Dear Yeshiva Family:
As we prepare to celebrate the Yom Tov of Shavuos, the time of Matan Torah, there is a Mishnah in Pirkei Avos (6:2) that at first glance seems almost impossible to understand. The Mishnah declares: “Ein lecha ben chorin ela mi she’osek baTorah” — there is no truly free person except one who works in Torah. The statement is very interesting. If there is one society in the world obsessed with the concept of freedom, it is the modern world, and especially America. Freedom means being able to choose for oneself, to live without restriction, to answer to no one. If we would ask the average person to describe a “free man,” they would probably picture somebody with no obligations and no one telling him what to do.
Yet Torah life appears to be the exact opposite. A Torah Jew lives with constant structure and responsibility. The Torah guides not only the major moments of life, but even the smallest details, down to the way one ties his shoes. We even refer to Torah observance as accepting the “Ol Torah,” the yoke of Torah. A yoke is not usually associated with freedom; it represents burden, obligation, and submission. And interestingly, the colloquial term for someone who throws off Torah observance is often “chiloni,” or in Yiddish, “frei” — free. Seemingly, the person who casts aside the yoke should be the one called free, while the person bound by hundreds of halachos should be the opposite. So, what does the Mishnah mean when it says that the only true ben chorin is one who is involved in Torah? How can accepting the yoke of Torah be the greatest freedom a person can possibly have?
There is a classic explanation given for this apparent contradiction. Indeed, someone who throws off the yoke of Hashem may appear to be free, because he no longer feels bound by the obligation to listen to Hashem and follow His commandments. At first glance, he seems able to do whatever he wants, whenever he wants. In that sense, he may very well describe himself as “frei” — free.
Perhaps this can be compared to a leaf that becomes detached from its tree. Imagine watching a leaf blowing through the wind, soaring higher and higher through the air. Compared to the leaves still attached to the tree, one might say, “Look how free that leaf is! It is no longer tied down.” And in a certain sense, that is true. It has indeed broken free from the tether of the tree. But at the very same moment, it has also become detached from its source of life. The freedom is only temporary, because a leaf disconnected from its tree ultimately withers away. So too, a person who disconnects himself from Hashem may feel liberated from obligation, but at the same time he has severed himself from the very source of spiritual life and meaning.
That may explain why someone who abandons Torah observance calls himself “free.” But the Mishnah is teaching something far deeper. The real question is not why a person outside of Torah feels free. The real question we still must answer is: how can someone living under the “yoke” of Torah possibly be called the only true free person?
The classic explanation of this Mishnah is that a person who truly serves Hashem becomes free not from responsibility, but from slavery to his own taivos (urges) and impulses. Such a person gains the ability to choose clearly and rationally, without being dragged around by every desire or emotion. To illustrate this, imagine asking the average person whether they would like to pull over a squirrel, tear off one of its limbs while it is still alive, and eat it. Besides being disgusting, this would violate the prohibition of eiver min hachai. Most people have absolutely no desire to do such a thing. Therefore, when presented with that choice, a person can calmly and logically say, “Of course not.” Nothing inside him is pulling him toward the sin. There is no inner pressure clouding his judgment. In that area, he is completely free to choose.
But there are many other aveiros (sins) where a person does not feel that same freedom. In areas such as lust, anger, jealousy, or money, a person’s judgment can become deeply clouded by powerful emotions and desires. Many times, a person knows intellectually that what he is doing is wrong, harmful, or destructive, yet he still feels unable to stop himself.
An addict often understands very well that his behavior is hurting him, but he no longer feels fully in control. In that sense, he is not truly free. Although a person may enjoy giving in to a taavah, the reality is that he is often being driven by forces inside himself that he no longer controls. The stronger the addiction or desire becomes, the weaker his freedom of choice becomes.
A truly free person is someone who is able to step back from those inner pressures and make decisions with clarity. Imagine if every challenge in life — whether to become angry, to speak improperly, to cheat, or to act selfishly — felt emotionally as neutral as the question, “Would you like to eat that squirrel?” Then a person would truly be free to choose. He could calmly decide whether to act or not act, without being overpowered by impulse. He still could sin if he wanted to – the choice is his! The Mishnah teaches that this level of inner freedom is achieved specifically through immersion in Torah. Not every Jew has this control, it has to come through immersion in Torah. Torah does not merely give a person rules to follow; it refines a person’s inner world, weakens the hold of unhealthy taivos, and gives him the ability to live with true independence and genuine bechirah.
Perhaps this is also the meaning of the words we say in Hallel: “Ana Hashem כי אני עבדך, אני עבדך בן אמתך, פתחת למוסרי” — “I am Your servant… You have undone my chains.” At first glance, the statement seems contradictory. If I am Your servant, then how can I simultaneously say that You have freed me from my chains? Is a servant not, by definition, bound?
The answer is that there are two very different types of servitude. A person can either be a servant to Hashem, or a servant to his impulses, habits, desires, and addictions. When Klal Yisrael left Mitzrayim, we did not simply move from one master to another. Rather, through becoming servants of Hashem, we were freed from being slaves to everything else. Yes, accepting the Torah means accepting responsibility and obligation. But that very “servitude” is what allows a person to become truly free — free to think clearly, free to choose correctly, and free from being controlled by every passing taavah or emotional impulse. In serving Hashem, a person finally gains mastery over himself, and that is the deepest freedom possible.
In truth, if a person must be a servant to something, then serving Hashem is infinitely better than being enslaved to one’s taivos. Chazal teach that “a person does not leave this world with even half of his desires fulfilled.” The nature of physical desire is that once a person gives in to it, the desire itself grows stronger. The satisfaction never truly lasts. Instead, the hunger increases, the expectations increase, and the person becomes more deeply trapped chasing something that can never fully satisfy him. A person may imagine that indulging every desire is freedom, but in reality he becomes a slave to an ever-growing emptiness that can never be filled.
Serving Hashem is fundamentally different. The more a person grows in Torah and avodas Hashem, the more inner peace, clarity, and fulfillment he experiences. Instead of constantly chasing something just beyond his reach, he develops a sense of purpose and stability. Taivos demand more and more while giving less and less back. Torah, however, asks much of a person, but it also elevates him, refines him, and gives him genuine satisfaction. In that sense, accepting the yoke of Torah is not the loss of freedom, but the escape from the cruelest form of slavery imaginable.
As we approach the Yom Tov of Shavuos and prepare once again to accept the Torah, may we be zocheh to experience the true freedom that comes through Torah learning and avodas Hashem. In a world where so many people are pulled in every direction by pressure, distraction, and desire, may Hashem help us achieve the clarity and inner peace that come from living a life connected to Him. May we merit to become truly free people — free to choose correctly, free from the hold of unhealthy taivos, and free to live lives of meaning, growth, and purpose.
Have an amazing Yom Tov!
Rabbi Moshe Revah Mrevah2@touro.edu
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