VaEtchanan: Serving God with Love

"You shall love the Eternal your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your might" (Deut. 6:5).

The Two Well-Dressed Friends

Jack and Charles were both men of style—at least, at first glance. But as any tailor will tell you, it’s not just the fabric that makes the suit; it’s the man inside it.

Jack, a man of quiet suffering, worked in a high-profile firm where appearances mattered more than substance. His closet was lined with suits—sharp, expensive, the kind that made people take you seriously. And yet, he took no joy in them. If it were up to him, he’d live in faded jeans and a well-worn shirt, free from the tyranny of silk ties and polished shoes. But he knew the rules. Dress down, and you might as well hand in your resignation.

Charles, on the other, loves the feel and look of elegant clothing. His closet is filled with dozens of fancy suits, expensive ties, fine shirts and dress shoes. Charles loves shopping for new clothes and wearing the latest style.

Now, imagine the two of them meeting a world-famous fashion designer. Jack, already resentful at having to be there, would eye the man like a sworn enemy. If it weren’t for people like you, I’d be in sneakers right now. Charles, by contrast, would beam like a schoolboy meeting his hero. He’d shake the designer’s hand, admire the stitching on his lapels, and thank him for giving the world such artistry.

Serving God with Love

The difference between Jack and Charles is the difference between serving God out of fear and serving Him out of love.

For those who serve out of yirah, a sense of obligation, Torah and mitzvot can feel like a burden. Like Jack in his business suits, they do what is required, but their heart is elsewhere. They want to do the right thing, but deep down, they wonder—wouldn’t life be easier with fewer rules, fewer expectations?

Then there are those who serve out of love. To them, mitzvot are not a weight but a privilege. Like Charles delighting in fine clothing, they cherish every opportunity to draw closer to God. They see the Torah not as a list of demands but as a gift, a way to express the deepest longings of the soul.

Rav Huna taught that a scholar who fails to recite a blessing before studying Torah will not merit children who are Torah scholars. Why? Because without hakarat hatov, without gratitude for the privilege of learning Torah, its teachings remain dry, lifeless words. Only one who loves Torah, who sees it as the greatest inheritance, can pass that love on to the next generation.

Fear may keep us on the path, but love is what makes the journey joyous.

(Adapted from Meshalim Ve-gam Sipurim Le-no'ar ule-kol Beit Yisra'el, p. 57)