We all know that Talmud Torah k’neged kulam – that learning Torah is so essential to a yid that it is considered equal to all the other mitzvos combined. Indeed, we should not view learning Torah as a “to do” in our list of daily activities. No, it should be THE main goal of our day; all other activities and chores are insignificant compared to the essentialness of learning Torah.
In this week’s Parsha, we read the second paragraph of Kriyas Shema, beginning with the words “V’haya im shamo’a tishme’u” (Devarim 11:13). Just a few pesukim later (11:16), the Torah warns us: “Hishamru lachem pen yifteh levavchem v’sartem va’avadtem elohim acheirim”-“Be careful, lest your heart be led astray, and you turn away and serve other gods...”
Rashi explains that the phrase “v’sartem” - “you will turn away” - means that you will stop learning Torah, and then the pasuk continues with “va’avadtem elohim acheirim” - that you’ll end up serving other gods. That sounds extreme. If someone stops learning, does that really mean they’ll fall so far as to serve idols?
Why doesn’t the Torah say that the person might stop keeping Shabbos or putting on tefillin? Why jump straight from not learning to total collapse?
Rav Hutner zt”l addresses this in Igeres 75 of Pachad Yitzchak, a maamar he delivered to bnei Torah. He gives the following analogy:
Imagine someone saying, “If you don’t eat gourmet food, you’ll die of starvation.” That sounds absurd—there are plenty of simple foods one can eat and live perfectly well. You don’t have to eat the very best foods in order to survive. But when it comes to the mind and soul, the rules are different. For a person’s spirituality to survive, he needs to be filled with the very best thoughts. If a person doesn’t fill their head and heart with the very best, the world around them will quickly fill the space with its values, its distractions, and its confusions.
It’s not that a person goes from being frum to chas v’shalom worshiping idols overnight. But when Torah is missing from a person’s heart, something else takes over. There’s no neutral zone.
That’s why the Torah says “v’sartem... va’avadtem.” Because once Torah leaves a person’s inner world, they are left empty and the downward spiral begins. Learning Torah is not just a mitzvah; it’s the essence of our life as yidden.
A story told about the Chazon Ish brings this lesson to life. A father once came to the Chazon Ish, deeply concerned. “Rebbe,” he said, “my son is a good boy. He keeps mitzvos. He davens. He’s respectful. But lately, he seems cold. His fire is gone.” The Chazon Ish looked at him and asked, “Does he have a fixed time to learn every day?” The father hesitated. “No, not really. He’s very busy... he learns occasionally, but no real seder.” The Chazon Ish replied: “A table can have strong legs and be beautifully built, but if the center is hollow, it will collapse. Torah is the center. Mitzvos are the legs. But without the center, nothing will hold.” (See Pe’er Hador, vol. 2, p. 80)
This is the powerful message of the pasuk. Torah isn’t just “another mitzvah.” It’s what holds everything else up. Torah is life itself.
Every time we say Shema, we’re reminded: If you turn away from Torah, you are opening yourself to the pull of everything outside. There is no spiritual neutrality. Either Torah fills us or something else will.
Let us take this message to heart. Whether for ourselves or our children, let us hold on to Torah as our core not just because it’s a mitzvah, but because it’s our spiritual foundation.
