Thursday, July 29, 2010

Eikev: Honoring Torah Scholars

The Blind Traveler

A few hundred years ago, in a small Polish town, there lived a blind man named Moishe. Moishe was well known—partly for his sharp wit, partly for his astonishing ability to navigate crowded streets with only the occasional collision.

One winter, struggling to make ends meet, Moishe decided to travel to the next country over, hoping to collect enough funds to keep his household running. The local authorities, after some grumbling, granted him official travel documents.

So off he went, led by his faithful assistant, Yankel—because, of course, no blind man in those days traveled alone.

But when they reached the border, trouble loomed. The stern-faced guard inspected Moishe’s papers and frowned. "You have permission to cross," he said, "but this man—" he pointed at Yankel—"isn’t mentioned anywhere. He stays behind."

Moishe, who had handled worse bureaucrats in his time, didn’t miss a beat. "Read the document carefully," he said.

The guard cleared his throat and began: "Please note that Moishe Cohen, a blind man from our town, has been granted a permit to travel…"

"There!" Moishe interrupted. "It says a blind man, doesn’t it? Now, tell me, have you ever seen a blind man travel alone?"

The guard opened his mouth, then closed it again. He glanced at Moishe, then at Yankel, then at the empty road behind them. Finally, with a sigh, he waved them both through.


"To Include Torah Scholars"

The Talmud (Kiddushin 57a) records a striking moment: Shimon HaAmasoni dedicated his life to interpreting every occurrence of the word et—a small grammatical particle in the Torah text. But when he reached the verse, "You shall revere the Eternal your God" (Deut. 10:12), he stopped. Here, he hesitated. Could anything be compared to the awe one should have for God?

For a time, the question remained unanswered. Then came Rabbi Akiva. He taught that et here includes reverence for Torah scholars.

But why? Surely, the obligation to respect Torah scholars would be more appropriately derived from the mitzvah to honor one’s parents. Why equate it with the awe of Heaven?

Because, Rabbi Akiva understood, without teachers, we are like the blind when it comes to serving God. We may wish to walk the right path, but how can we, unless someone guides our steps? Just as a blind traveler’s permit assumes the presence of a companion, so too, the verse assumes the role of Torah scholars. They show us the way, teaching us how to revere God and fulfil His will.


(Adapted from Mishlei Ya'akov, pp. 419-420)