As a rabbi whose work focuses on writing and education, I often find myself in the position of a salesperson.
Here’s why Torah is valuable, I explain.
Here’s what learning Jewish text can add to your life.
Here are all the reasons you ought to get excited about this piece of Talmud.
(And, behind that far too often: here’s why you should hire me.)
But I want to invite us all to challenge the question. What could our Jewish communities be like if we treated the WHY of Torah as Torah itself, starting from a foundational assumption that Torah is fundamental to our communities and our Jewishness?
What I am proposing here – and I am proposing it primarily because I am craving it – is a shift in liberal and progressive Jewish communities to “Torah Lishmah,” Torah study for its own sake.
In the midst of a discussion about Torah study in tractate Nedarim 62a, Rabbi Eliezer the son of Rabbi Tzadok cautions:
עֲשֵׂה דְּבָרִים לְשֵׁם פָּעֳלָם, וְדַבֵּר בָּהֶם לִשְׁמָם. אַל תַּעֲשֵׂם עֲטָרָה לְהִתְגַּדֵּל בָּהֶם, וְאַל תַּעֲשֵׂם קוּרְדּוֹם לִהְיוֹת עוֹדֵר בּוֹ.
Do things for the sake of their performance, not for any ulterior motive, and speak words of Torah for their own sake. Do not make them a crown with which to become glorified, nor make them a dolabra [kordom] with which to hoe.
In other words, we ought to study Torah not because it has a status-boosting function, or because it has some practical utility. (“Professional” Torah teachers have spent centuries litigating if it is even okay to be paid for our time!) And the question “why study Torah” is much more easily answered by responses that fall into this genre!
What could it look like for Jewish communities that have not already done so to embrace Torah purposelessly? What if our Torah learning had no point, no goal, no utility? What if Torah doesn’t have to offer us helpful frames for understanding the modern world, or guidance on tough ethical problems in order to be worthwhile?
Put differently, how can we take Torah out of the capitalist framework we live in that pushes us to use all our time “productively?”
We can take inspiration for this approach from the holiday of Shavuot, all year round.
Shavuot is a holiday of love, of passion. The custom of the Tikkun Leil Shavuot, the late-night or all-night Torah study series, did not spread because it is the best way to learn the most Torah. If anything, the Torah we are equipped to learn at midnight or at three AM is some of the “worst” Torah if we are seeking either quality or quantity.
Most of us will not have our sharpest insights or retain the most information possible learning Torah through the night. And yet, we gather to learn.
My friend and teacher Alyx Bernstein, writing for SVARA, teaches:
“Torah is a part of our learning community. She shares her knowledge with us, pushes us to grow, lets us grow close to her words, her text, her sweetness. Torah becomes someone we can get to know, grow intimate with, be wrapped in, be inspired by, grow in relation with. In this spirit, I want to propose that we all try to talk about Torah and our learning not as something we own, but as someone we love. Not as a commodity, but as a friend.”
We can spend time with Torah because it benefits us, but because we love the Torah. In the month of Sivan, we spend a late night giggling with our friend, the Torah.
Let’s bring this giddy enthusiasm – and its lack of goals – into our communities and our learning all year. Torah need not have a why beyond itself; we can learn Torah and love Torah and befriend Torah from a place of relationality, rather than productivity.
