“Get a Life” Parashat Acharei Mot – Kedoshim 5786 |
Hassan Nasrallah, Secretary‑General of Hezbollah from 1992 until his death in 2024, once famously said, “We have discovered how to hit the Jews where they are the most vulnerable. The Jews love life, so that is what we shall take away from them. We are going to win, because they love life and we love death,” Nasrallah was eventually proven wrong – emphatically so.
The value of human life is deeply ingrained in the Torah. We are directed [Vayikra 18:5] “Keep My laws and My rules, by the pursuit of which humans shall live: I am G-d” and [Devarim 30:9] “Choose life, so that you and your descendants might live”. Let’s take a closer look at the first verse. How do humans “live” as a result performing G-d’s commandments? Do we reduce cholesterol and trans-fats by refraining from cheeseburgers? Rashi[1] quotes our Sages in the Midrash [Sifra Acharei Mot 8:10] who assert that the “living” that is promised is in the World to Come. Rashi concludes with a fairly cheeky comment: “If you say it means that he shall live in this world, is it not a fact that in the end he must eventually die?” Not everyone agrees with Rashi. The Talmud in Tractate Yoma [85b] teaches that words “You shall live” mean “You shall live by the commandments in the Torah, not die by them”. The Torah was given to preserve human life, such that saving a life (pikuach nefesh) overrides almost all commandments. One must violate Shabbat, dietary laws, or fasting if doing so saves a life, and this is considered fulfilling G-d’s will. There are only three exceptions – idolatry, forbidden sexual relations, and murder – where martyrdom is required. Overall, the Torah is fundamentally a Torah of Life.
In this essay, we seek to demonstrate that Rashi and the Talmud, are not necessarily at loggerheads. The Rambam [Hilchot Teshuva 9:1-2] addresses a central difficulty in Jewish philosophy: G-d repeatedly promises material rewards – rain, peace, prosperity – for a person who keeps the Torah and threatens material punishments – famine, defeat, exile – for one who does not. Nevertheless, Jewish tradition teaches that the true reward is in the future World to Come while the true punishment is the soul’s loss of that future. Why, then, does the Torah focus nearly exclusively on outcomes in this world? The Rambam argues that if these earthly pleasures were the ultimate rewards, they would be disappointingly shallow and would contradict the Torah’s emphasis on intellectual and spiritual perfection as humanity’s highest goal. The Rambam’s solution is that the Torah is not describing reward and punishment per se, but, rather, the conditions that enable or obstruct spiritual success. When a person follows the Torah, G-d grants stability, security, and material sufficiency so he is free from survival pressures and can devote himself to Torah, wisdom, and moral refinement, thereby earning a greater share in the World to Come. But when he sins, suffering and instability follow, not as ultimate punishment, but because they prevent sustained spiritual growth. The Torah speaks in concrete, worldly terms because this language educates a nation and preserves free will. The real reward lies beyond this world; this world merely provides the environment in which it is earned.
Let’s leverage the Rambam’s innovation to merge the divergent explanations of Rashi and the Talmud. At the end of the day, we receive our reward in the World to Come. But we cannot achieve that reward without earning it in this corporeal world. Live now – by performing G-d’s commandments – so that you might really live in style later. The Mishnah in Tractate Avot [4:6] compares this world to a vestibule (prozdor) before the World to Come and urges us to “Prepare yourself in the vestibule so that you might enter the banquet hall”. The Mishnah teaches that this world has instrumental value, not inherent value. Its purpose is preparation – through the performance of Torah, wisdom, and moral refinement – for the World to Come, which is the true destination. Case closed. But nevertheless, stripping this world of its intrinsic value seems to be missing something. And so we plod on.
Rabbi Isaac Samuel Reggio[2] proposes a stunning synthesis of the explanations of Rashi and the Talmud. Rabbi Reggio explains “living” as a statement about balance between body and soul. The human soul naturally pulls upward toward the spiritual, while the body pulls downward toward the physical. If a person were to live only like an angel, cutting himself off entirely from bodily needs, he would not survive in this world. But if he were to live only like an animal, driven by instinct and appetite without understanding or discipline, he would sever his soul from the upper light of spiritual life. The Torah provides the framework that allows a person to chart his path wisely between these extremes. Through them, he learns how to integrate body and soul rather than letting one destroy the other. As a result, he truly “lives by them”: He lives fully in this world, maintaining physical life and human dignity, and at the same time he preserves his soul’s connection to the World to Come.
Once, I was discussing the “Days of the Messiah” with a certain Rabbi. He asked what I thought it would be like. I quoted the Talmud in Tractate Berachot [34b] in which the Sage, Samuel, asserts that there is no difference between this world and the days of the Messiah except subjugation to foreign rule[3]. Samuel defines the Messianic Era as historical and political redemption, not apocalyptic change. My interlocutor had a more, well, apocalyptic take on the situation – real lions lying down with real sheep, manna falling from heaven, Brent crude oil at five dollars a barrel – that sort of thing. He asked me, “So the Messiah equals an Israel that has successfully deterred its enemies and no longer requires American military or political aid? Is that all you have been praying for? Aren’t you setting the bar low?”
Rabbi Reggio reframes the entire discussion. Redemption is not an escape from the physical world. Redemption is the ability to live in it correctly. If the soul pulls up and the body pulls down, then the real battlefield is not in the heavens. It is in the daily grind: earning, building, raising families, struggling, failing, trying again, and still choosing to serve G-d with wisdom and restraint. The Torah does not ask us to become angels. It asks us to become holy humans. With that, Samuel’s definition of the Messianic Era stops sounding small. “Only freedom from subjugation of the nations” is not a consolation prize. It is the removal of the single greatest obstacle to Torah life at scale. When a nation lives under external coercion, it becomes reactive. It spends its days putting out fires. It makes compromises it should never have to make. It does not have bandwidth for moral ambition. Samuel is saying that the world does not need to be rewritten. Nature does not need to be suspended. What needs to change is the strategic environment, so that we can finally do the real work: to be a People that lives Torah without constantly living in survival mode. That is also the Rambam’s point about the Torah’s rewards and punishments. The Torah does not bribe us with rain and peace. It describes the conditions that let us grow. Stability is not the payoff – it is the enabling condition. Remove hunger, fear, and chaos, and a person can learn, refine, build, and earn a share in the World to Come. Leave him trapped in crisis, and even a good person becomes small. This is true for individuals and it is true for nations.
So no, my bar is not low. A world where Israel is no longer “subjugated by the nations” is not a world of magic. It is a world of responsibility. It is the chance to stop being dragged downward by pressure and to start choosing upward by design. That is what we pray for. Not fantasy. Not escapism. The ability to live like Jews with full agency, to build a society where holiness is normal, where Torah is not a luxury, and where loving life is not a weakness but the entire point.
Shabbat Shalom and Chag Ha’Atzma’ut Sameach!
Ari Sacher, Moreshet, 5786
Please daven for a Refu’a Shelema for Rachel bat Malka, Iris bat Chana, Sheindel Devora bat Rina, Esther Sharon bat Chana Raizel, Meir ben Drora, Golan ben Marcelle and Hodayah Emunah bat Shoshana Rachel.
[1] Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki, known by his acronym “Rashi,” was the most eminent of the medieval commentators. He lived in northern France in the 11th century.
[2] Rabbi Reggio lived in Italy in the 19th century.
[3] This is codified in the Rambam Hilchot Melachim [12:1]: “One should not think the messianic era involves a change in nature or the structure of the world. Rather, the world continues as it is, and the only difference between this world and the days of the Messiah is freedom from foreign subjugation