Chapter3, Mishna 8 (a)
Think Globally, Act Locally
By Rabbi Dovid Rosenfeld
"Rabbi Elazar of Bartosa said, give Him from His own, for you and your
possessions are His. And so regarding King David does the verse state, 'For
everything is from You, and from Your hands have we given to You' (I
Chronicles 29:14)."
This mishna seems poetic but its meaning is fairly self-evident. We are
instructed to give G-d that which is truly His: our selves and our
possessions. Everything we are and we have are in truth gifts from G-d. We
must use them in the manner He intended.
The commentator Rabbeinu Yonah adds that if we view the matter from its
true
perspective, we should be grateful that G-d allows us to enjoy the gifts He
entrusts us with. If all we have truly belongs to G-d, then theoretically,
we have no right to withhold any part of it for our own pleasure. Even so,
G-d allows us to use at least a part of our gifts -- our wealth and
talents -- for our own comfort and well-being. And so, rather than feeling
burdened by the Torah's commandments and obligation that we be charitable,
we should be appreciative that G-d allows us to keep even a portion of it
all for ourselves.
One issue we might find bothersome with our mishna is its vagueness. Giving
G-d that which is His could mean anything -- and so it really means
nothing.
And I feel this does not really fit into the paradigm of Pirkei Avos. As
we've seen many times throughout this study, the Sages in Pirkei Avos offer
very practical, almost pedestrian advice. We are not told to save the world
but to greet others favorably (1:15
www.torah.org/learning/pirkei-avos/chapter1-15c.html), not to end war and
famine but to respect others' property (2:17
www.torah.org/learning/pirkei-avos/chapter2-17a.html). The catchphrase
would
perhaps be -- as the rallying cry of the modern-day environmentalist --
"think globally, act locally."
And those are actually very wise and appropriate words. (I wonder if the
Sages said them somewhere?) On the one hand, we must recognize the global
picture -- just how much is at stake depending upon our behavior, and the
degree to which the world hangs in the balance. No deed is too small to be
noticed by G-d, or is too insignificant to make a difference to mankind.
The
Talmud (Kiddushin 40b) writes that a person should see himself as exactly
50% righteous and 50% sinful. A single action could make the difference
between salvation and eternal damnation. And likewise, one must see the
entire world as equally hanging in the balance. One good or wicked deed may
just decide it for all of mankind. Whether the world rises or falls is
literally in our own hands.
But what are we to do about it? Perhaps little more than humble, small and
private acts to improve ourselves and our surroundings. We can all better
the world around us, and we certainly can and must improve ourselves. But,
practically speaking, we may be limited to that alone, and more
importantly,
that is probably all G-d asks of us. Will it save the world? Quite likely.
But don't let "save the world" obscure the fact that our obligation for the
most part is small and unnoticed acts, private deeds of devotion and hard
work. Never assume high-profile acts and prime-time coverage are our
tickets
to saving the world. Will tying ourselves to a tree do more good for the
environment -- or taking public transportation? We must see the
significance
of our actions -- our goal is quite literally to save the world, but we
must
never forget that the road to true salvation is the quiet, little-taken and
little-noticed path of good behavior.
Given all the above (at one point at least, I started off typing with some
goal in mind...), our mishna's language is perhaps frustrating. "Give G-d
that which is His." What are we to glean practically from such a message?
Let us first "quantify" this generosity we must exhibit towards G-d. We
will
then, I believe, begin to appreciate just how practical and relevant the
words of the Sages are.
As always, as poetic as the Sages often wax, they quantify their words with
concrete detail. When it comes to charity, Jewish law provides us with very
precise guidelines: how much we must give: what is too little and too much,
what types of income must be tithed, to whom we must give, what are the
priorities, etc. In the agrarian society of old, Jews were required to
bring
their first fruits to the Temple, to separate approximately 2% for the
Priests, another 10% for the Levites, another 10% for the poor (or to be
eaten in Jerusalem depending on the year), to leave the "corners" of their
fields and fallen stalks for the poor, and to further give a percentage of
their dough to the Priests. (This was all in addition to having their
fields
lie fallow every seventh year, the tithing of the animals, the giving of
the
first born animals, the tithing of the wool, etc.)
It seems we were not only instructed to be generous with our earnings, but
we were reminded that -- as our mishna states -- our earnings are not truly
ours to begin with. We will receive the lion's share after it is all done,
but the intended recipients are far more than us alone. (The white-collar
equivalent of all the above is the relatively trifling 10% of our income.)
When it comes to giving ourselves to G-d, the Sages too provide practical
guidelines -- although this admittedly is among the broadest and most
unspecific of our obligations. In its most extreme sense, giving ourselves
to G-d implies sacrificing our lives for our beliefs (Mishna Berachos 9:5).
More practically, however, we are instructed to "resemble" G-d, that just
as
He clothes the naked (Genesis 3:21), so should we; just as He visits the
sick (ibid., 18:1), so should we; just as He comforts the bereaved (ibid.,
25:11), so should we; and just as He buries the dead (Deut., 34:6), so
should we (Talmud Sotah 14a). Our life-goal must be to emulate G-d, to find
our own little way of bringing out the Divine from within ourselves.
There are some fascinating, practical lessons which stem from our mishna's
advice. As we will see next week, G-d willing, by giving ourselves over to
G-d so wholeheartedly, we become His. And then He, in turn, will take care
of us -- simply because G-d takes care of His own.
Text Copyright © 2004 by Rabbi Dovid Rosenfeld and Torah.org.