Pirkei Avot Chapter 6: Mishna 4 - "Pat BaMelach"

<A
/"><FONT size=5>The Israel Koschitzky Virtual Beit
Midrash</FONT></A></P>
<P align=center><STRONG>Pirkei Avot - The Wisdom of the Fathers </STRONG></P>
<HR>

<DIR><FONT></DIR></FONT>
<DIR></DIR>
<P align=center><STRONG>Shiur #12: <I>Pat Ba-melach</P></I></STRONG>
<P align=center><STRONG>By Rav Moshe Taragin</STRONG></P>
<P align=justify></P>
<P align=justify>The fourth mishna of the sixth <I>perek</I> issues a strident
demand as a prerequisite for Torah excellence: "This is the manner of Torah: Eat
bread with salt, drink measured amounts of water, sleep on the earth, and live a
meager and 'agonizing' life while you labor in Torah. If you pursue this policy,
you will be blessed and fortunate &#150; fortunate in this world, and blessed in the
next world." </P>
<P align=justify>Clearly, this sets a very demanding standard for Torah
ambition. To a degree, Rashi already qualifies this stipulation when he claims
that the mishna is outlining the extent of struggle to which a person must
subject himself &#150; IF NECESSARY. A person cannot justify a Torah-study exemption
because of poverty, but must tolerate potential financial distress as a price
for Torah commitment. Rashi stresses his qualification by citing a gemara in
Horiyut (10b) which exclaims, "Were the righteous ever discriminated against if
they happened to enjoy material wealth?" This gemara confirms Rashi's sense that
financial difficulty should not be pursued, but rather accepted if conditions
warrant. </P>
<P align=justify>However, despite Rashi's qualification, it is clear that the
mishna is encouraging at least a willingness to bear a financially taxing
lifestyle to better facilitate Torah pursuit. Admittedly, the diminished
material existence is crucial for two reasons: </P>
<P align=justify>1) As Rabbenu Yona comments, overindulgence in the material
world can distract true interest and investment of resources in the area of
spiritual pursuit. Adhering to a minimalist lifestyle immunizes the Torah
student from the dizzying effects of acquisitiveness and consumption. </P>
<P align=justify>2) Quite independent from the stultifying effects of
overindulgence, sweeping Torah knowledge can be acquired only through a
relentlessness that expresses itself is some degree of personal abandon. Torah,
as the approximation of Hashem, is both infinite and &#150; at a certain level &#150;
inscrutable. Cracking this Divine code demands the effort which may introduce a
level of personal and material struggle which the mishna describes. As a famous
statement of Reish Lakish affirmed (see Berakhot 63), "Torah can be acquired
only by a person willing to annihilate himself through its pursuit." </P>
<P align=justify>Interestingly enough, the mishna does not evoke a completely
ascetic portrait. After all, it promises that this behavior will yield fortune
in THIS world and blessing in the world to come. The mishna does not fully
inform as to how blessing in this world will emerge from an acceptance of
financial hardship. Perhaps it alludes to supernatural assistance in acquiring
material needs as reward for financial abandon on behalf of Torah study. Perhaps
it sounds a psychological note, encouraging a healthy set of priorities headed
by the supremacy of Torah and the willingness to sacrifice financially to
respect that supremacy. Once that attitude is achieved, satisfaction and
material bliss will ensue even from 'limited' financial opportunities. Clearly,
financial bliss is strongly affected by social and psychological factors. A
wealthy individual may sense greater monetary urgency that a less-endowed person
based on non-rational or at least non-fiscal motives. Through proper
prioritization, and the willingness to, and actual experience of, sacrifice for
Torah, a person stems the uncontrollable ambition which often creates addictive
behavior. In this vein, perhaps, the mishna refers to someone who enjoys
material opportunities and voluntarily opts for limited indulgence on behalf of
Torah excellence. In this instance, the 'material blessing' is available but may
only be relished (psychologically or providentially, through Hashem's
<I>hashgacha</I>) through a Torah- centric experience. </P>
<P align=justify>Some have offered a different solution to this seeming enigma.
By employing the term '<I>darka</I>' &#150; the 'road' to Torah, the mishna might be
outlining the lifestyle and sacrifice necessary to acquire Torah. The term
<I>derekh</I> refers to a road, and a road leads toward a destination.
Typically, once the destination has been reached, the 'laws' of the road no
longer apply. Normatively, then, once Torah has been achieved, the stiff
sacrifice mentioned in the mishna is no longer obligated, and a healthy degree
of material blessing may be realized. Though this position was asserted by no
less a personage than the Chafetz Chayim (who, on a personal level, led an
extremely meager existence), it invites certain questions. Primary is the issue
of determining when 'Torah' has been achieved. Acknowledging its infinity, we
would be challenged to determine an 'endpoint' to its achievement. Classically
we do not coronate Torah achievers with sufficient Torah title as to excuse
their continued effort. In fact <I>Chazal</I> expressed deep moral outrage and
almost blasphemous status to one who abandons Torah opportunity based upon a
sense of accomplishment. Perhaps the Chafetz Chayim's solution does not allow a
complete abandonment of Torah relentlessness, but does permit (though perhaps
without advising) a softening of the uncompromising sacrifice which must be
exercised during the initial years of Torah acquisition. </P>
<P align=justify>Of course, the general theme of the mishna raises important
ideals, but ones which could pose certain dangers if they are not properly
implemented. Obviously, insufficient attention to personal health may cause
physical infirmities which would severely obstruct or limit Torah activity.
Beyond the immediate fear of illness, several <I>gemarot</I> speak of the
importance of overall physical health and basic mental fitness to assure Torah
excellence. The gemara in Masekhet Megilla records that Rava once relocated to a
sheltered environment before issuing a <I>halakhic</I> position, since Torah
logic requires clarity. Similarly, Rava felt that his logic was clouded by not
having imbibed his daily quotient of wine, and Rav Nachman likewise refused to
participate in <I>pesak</I> since he had not eaten meat that day. Undoubtedly,
peace of mind and personal tranquility are vital ingredients toward Torah
excellence. An interesting comment by the Rambam in Hilkhot Talmud Torah (1:12)
highlights the area of Talmudic creativity (commonly known as <I>lomdus</I>) as
the primary field of Torah endeavor. After mastering Tanakh and <I>Shas</I>, the
Rambam expects most of our energies to be invested in creative development of
the Talmudic system. Aware that each person has varying levels of aptitude in
this area, the Rambam qualifies that <I>lomdus </I>should be attempted
'according to the breadth in his heart (<I>rochav she-yeish be-libo</I>) and
personal serenity (<I>yishuv da'ato</I>).' Evidently, personal equanimity and
tranquility are crucial toward creative Torah ventures. Indeed, 'peace of mind'
is a product of many factors, including interpersonal relations, general
worldview, ability to tolerate adversity and misfortune, etc. However, the
recipe suggested by our mishna would certainly intensify the challenge of
achieving personal tranquility. Ultimately, this mishna constitutes a harsh and
forbidding commentary on the severe commitment vital to Torah achievement. It
certainly resonates with Reish Lakish's famous maxim which we cited earlier,
"Torah can be acquired only by a person willing to annihilate himself through
its pursuit" (Berakhot 63b). Though we must demonstrate care in not applying
this principle in a self-annihilating fashion, we certainly must acknowledge the
type of tenacity and sacrifice which Torah study demands. Indeed, the fear of
"burn-out" is valid, but perhaps the greater danger is never beginning to 'burn'
in the first place.</P>
<P align=justify>AFTERWORD</P>
<P align=justify>For the past few hundred years &#150; and especially the past two
centuries &#150; this image became the hallmark of the yeshiva experience and the
19-20<SUP>th</SUP> century yeshiva movement. As the Jewish community was faced
with unrelenting penury, <I>yeshivot</I> certainly did not merit significant
investments of financial resources. The legions of yeshiva <I>bochurim</I> who
labored and studied under almost intolerable conditions looked to this mishna
for emotional reinforcement. Recently, as our communal wealth has, <I>barukh
Hashem</I>, been restored, <I>yeshivot</I> in particular have benefited from
greater communal charity. Perhaps the most notable and, arguably, the first,
modern yeshiva built with significantly more comfortable conditions was the
yeshiva of Chakhmei Lublin, built in the 1920s in Lublin by Rabbi Meir Shapiro.
Intent on affording Torah the same majesty as other cultural projects, Rabbi
Meir Shapiro insistently fundraised on the platform of changing our perspective
of <I>yeshivot</I> and yeshiva life. This was a clear break with the yeshiva
experience of the previous 400 years, but has, in large measure, been
responsible for the restoration of Torah pride, and, to a degree, of Torah
activity, in recent developments. </P>
<P align=justify>As an aside, when the Beit Midrash of our yeshiva was built
approximately 30 years ago, someone asked Moshe Moskovic, chairman of the
yeshiva's board, why the plans called for vaulted ceilings and other ornate
features. After all, this project was about building a yeshiva, not a theater or
a stadium! Moshe responded that if a theater deserved such glory and beauty,
than certainly Torah deserved no less.</P></BODY></HTML>