This brings to mind the Sages' famous teaching: "God wished to bestow merit upon Israel, so He gave them an abundance of Torah and mitzvot" (Makkot 23b).
One might wonder—wouldn't fewer commandments have been a greater kindness? Less to remember, less chance of missteps?
The Maggid of Dubno addressed this question in his usual way—through a story.
The Young Merchant's First Fair
Daniel was young, ambitious, and—like many young men—convinced he knew everything. His father-in-law, a seasoned merchant with deep pockets, handed him a purse of silver coins and sent him off to his first trade fair in Leipzig. “Invest wisely,” the older man counseled.
Daniel arrived safely, found a decent inn, and immediately ran into his uncle—a shrewd businessman who had been around long enough to see a disaster before it happened.
“My first trip to the fair,” Daniel announced proudly.
His uncle nodded, took note, and promptly set to work behind the scenes. He spoke to every merchant in his vast network. “My nephew just arrived,” he told them. “Fine young man. Honest. Eager. You’d do well to sell to him.”
And so, for the next week, Daniel had no time to think, let alone breathe. His room became a revolving door of merchants, peddlers, and traders. Deals were struck. Bargains were made. By the time he was ready to return home, his money purse was empty, but his bags were full of valuable merchandise.
On his way out of town, he stopped by his uncle’s home.
"How fared your first fair?" his uncle asked, eyes twinkling.
Daniel released a weary sigh. "Exhausting! Merchants at every hour—I scarcely had a moment's rest!"
His uncle grinned. "And who do you suppose directed this parade of opportunity?"
Daniel's expression shifted from confusion to dawning understanding.
“I knew you were new to all this,” his uncle explained. “I didn’t want you wasting your time—and your money—on card games and street shows. So, I made sure you were too busy with profitable deals to get distracted.”
Guidance in the Marketplace of Life
We are all, the Maggid observed, like that young merchant in life's grand fair. The world around us is dazzling—full of promise, full of pitfalls. And God, like the wise uncle, knew that without structure, without meaningful engagement, we’d get lost in all the noise.
That is why He gave us so many mitzvot—not as a burden, but as a guide. They anchor us. They remind us of who we are and what truly matters. They are not there to constrain us, but to keep us from drifting, to ensure that we build lives of substance rather than getting lost in the transient and the trivial.
Too many commandments? Quite the opposite. They’re exactly what we need.
