Honoring the Torah from Within
To Begin Here is a simple question, and a sharp one. The leader of a country mentions the Sabbath in a speech. He is a flesh-and-blood human being, in office for a limited term, a mortal like the rest of us. Yet something in the heart is stirred. People get excited. They talk about it. They share it. “Look! He said ‘Sabbath’!” And a person stops and asks himself: Hashem’s command is “Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.” That command was spoken last week. It was spoken the week before. It has been spoken always, by Hashem Himself, with no term of office and no break. So what has changed? Why did the heart wake up only now, when a human government said it? The Power of Habit: The “Old Decree” This is not, heaven forbid, a question of faith. A Jew knows that Hashem’s command is what truly matters. He would say so without a moment’s doubt. But here is the fine point: what the heart actually feels is not always what the mind knows it should feel. The Torah says: “These words that I command you today shall be upon your heart.” Rashi, the great Bible commentator, explains: “They should not be in your eyes like an old royal decree that no one pays attention to. They should be like a new one that everyone runs to read.” The old decree is a command we have grown used to, and it no longer moves us. The outside decree, the new one, the surprising one, is the one that makes us tremble. This is exactly the problem the prophet Isaiah warns about. Hashem says through him: “Their awe of Me has become a command of people, learned by habit.” This is not denial of faith. It is not rebellion. It is habit. Routine. Serving Hashem on autopilot, until His command becomes so obvious to us that it loses its inner tremble. Then, when something “new” comes from outside, it feels alive. The King’s Law and the Law of the Land There is a well-known rule: “The law of the land is the law.” The laws of the country deserve respect, and they carry real weight. There is no argument about that. But there is a vast difference between the respect a government deserves and our recognition that the Torah truly binds us. The problem begins when we are more excited by the law of the land, a law made by mortals, than by the will of the true King of the world. The problem begins when, deep inside, honor for the government pushes aside honor for the King. In the Tanya, the classic book of Hasidic thought, Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi explains that a true love for Hashem demands that the heart’s feeling match what the mind knows. A person should live the truth, not only know it. When outside approval moves us more than Hashem’s command, a gap shows up between what we know and what we feel. And that gap is not a small one. The Inner Exile: The Heart of This Essay This is the main new idea here, and so we pause on it. The outer exile hurts. In that exile the other nations do not honor our Torah. But there is an exile deeper than that one. It is when we, the King’s own children, need approval from outside in order to feel how precious our ancestors’ heritage is. Picture a prince who grew up in the palace. He studied the King’s books. He keeps the King’s laws. Then one of the palace servants mentions the King’s name, and the prince is suddenly thrilled: “Look, even he knows!” That very thrill is the diagnosis. It reveals that the prince has forgotten, deep inside, who he is. It shows that the reality of Hashem needed outside approval before it could feel real to him. This is the most painful exile of all. The pain is not that the nations fail to honor the Torah. It is that sometimes, deep in the heart’s feeling, we ourselves do not feel its honor enough. Daniel, a captive in Babylon, did not wait for anyone’s approval. The Bible tells us that he knelt on his knees three times a day, in full view of the whole world, against the king’s decree. He did not do it because a flesh-and-blood king told him to. He did it because the King of the world asked it of him. For Daniel, Hashem’s command never became an “old decree.” He lived the right order of things in his feelings, not only in his mind.
Putting It into Practice
Listen, young married man. Look inside yourself. Do not do it to feel bad. Do it to know where you stand. The next time you hear “Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy,” stop for a moment. Hear it as if it were said right now, today, to you. Because that is truly how it is. The Hasidic discourses explain that the first word Hashem spoke when He gave the Torah, “I am,” is not a piece of history. It is spoken anew at every moment. Ask yourself: Does the voice of the One who commands move me? Or am I waiting for approval from outside? Your answer to that question is a map of your inner self.
Questions and answers
Q: Why do people get excited when a political leader mentions the Sabbath, more than by Hashem's own command?
Rabbi Landau answers: Here is a simple question, and a sharp one. The leader of a country mentions the Sabbath in a speech. He is a flesh-and-blood human being, in office for a limited term, a mortal like the rest of us. Yet something in the heart is stirred. People get excited. They talk about it. They share it. “Look! He said ‘Sabbath’!” And a person stops and asks himself: Hashem’s command is “Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.” That command was spoken last week. It was spoken the week before. It has been spoken always, by Hashem Himself, with no term of office and no break. So what has changed? Why did the heart wake up only now, when a human government said it?
Q: Why doesn't the heart always feel what the mind knows about Hashem's command?
Rabbi Landau answers: This is not, heaven forbid, a question of faith. A Jew knows that Hashem’s command is what truly matters. He would say so without a moment’s doubt. But here is the fine point: what the heart actually feels is not always what the mind knows it should feel. The Torah says: “These words that I command you today shall be upon your heart.” Rashi, the great Bible commentator, explains: “They should not be in your eyes like an old royal decree that no one pays attention to. They should be like a new one that everyone runs to read.” The old decree is a command we have grown used to, and it no longer moves us.
Q: How does respect for "the law of the land" compare to recognizing the authority of the Torah?
Rabbi Landau answers: There is a well-known rule: “The law of the land is the law.” The laws of the country deserve respect, and they carry real weight. There is no argument about that. But there is a vast difference between the respect a government deserves and our recognition that the Torah truly binds us. The problem begins when we are more excited by the law of the land, a law made by mortals, than by the will of the true King of the world. The problem begins when, deep inside, honor for the government pushes aside honor for the King.
Q: What is the deeper exile of needing outside approval to value the Torah?
Rabbi Landau answers: This is the main new idea here, and so we pause on it. The outer exile hurts. In that exile the other nations do not honor our Torah. But there is an exile deeper than that one. It is when we, the King’s own children, need approval from outside in order to feel how precious our ancestors’ heritage is. Picture a prince who grew up in the palace. He studied the King’s books. He keeps the King’s laws. Then one of the palace servants mentions the King’s name, and the prince is suddenly thrilled: “Look, even he knows!” That very thrill is the diagnosis. It reveals that the prince has forgotten, deep inside, who he is.
Q: How should I hear "Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy" according to Rabbi Landau?
Rabbi Landau answers: Listen, young married man. Look inside yourself. Do not do it to feel bad. Do it to know where you stand. The next time you hear “Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy,” stop for a moment. Hear it as if it were said right now, today, to you. Because that is truly how it is. The Hasidic discourses explain that the first word Hashem spoke when He gave the Torah, “I am,” is not a piece of history. It is spoken anew at every moment. Ask yourself: Does the voice of the One who commands move me? Or am I waiting for approval from outside? Your answer to that question is a map of your inner self.