Parshas Ki Setzei: No Small Feat

This week’s Parsha is replete with a variety of Mitzvos ranging from all six Sedarim of Shas. Some of these Mitzvos are discussed at length, and indeed are the source of many Halachos, and some are mentioned very briefly.

At one point in the Sedra the Torah mentions five seemingly unrelated Mitzvos in succession. This section begins with the Mitzvah of Shiluach HaKan, followed by the Mitzvos of Ma’akeh, Kilayim of the field and animals, Shatnez and Tzitzis. Each of these Mitzvos is unique in its own right, but they do not seem to share any commonality, leading one to wonder why they are in fact mentioned in this sequence.

Rashi seems to be sensitive to this question and, says that if one is Mikayem the Mitzvah of Shliuach HaKan he will ultimately build a new house, which will require him to do the Mitzvah of Ma’akeh, and he will subsequently acquire new clothing, fields and animals. This progression is hinted to by the Smichos of these Mitzvos to one another. These words are based on the Medrash, which says that we see the Klal of “Mitzvah Goreres Mitzvah” from these Mitzvos: being Mikayem the Mitzvah of Shiluach HaKan leads to the Mitzvah of Ma’akeh, which leads to the Mitzvah of Kilayim and so on.

Why is it that the Torah chooses to teach us this fundamental truth—that the Kiyum of one Mitzvah causes a person to be Mikayem other Mitzvos—with these Mitzvos specifically? Though there are a myriad of Halachos pertaining to each of these Mitzvos, their actual Kiyum is not difficult For example, if one has a four cornered item of clothing he needs only attach Tzitzis in order to fulfill that Mitzvah. In addition, some of these Mitzvos—such as Kilayim and Shatnez—are Mitzvos Lo Saseh: our Kiyum of these Mitzvos is in not acting. When one plants his field with only one type of crop or wears a Begged that does not contain wool and linen, he is avoiding these Issurim, but is not actually being Mekayem a Mitzvas Assei. Though we would not presume to consider any Mitzvah “minor,” these Mitzvos are not ones which requite great Mesiras Nefesh or even K’vishas HaYetzer in order tof ulfil them. In that sense it is curious that the Torah chose these Mitzvos to bring out this important Yesod.

If we look at the Meforshim on these Pessukim, however, it seems that—as usual—there is more than meets the eye, for in many cases there are very deep messages contained in these Pesukim.

With regard to the Mitzvah of Makeh, the Torah explains that one must enclose his roof with a fence “Ki Yipol HaNofel Mimenu.” The term HaNofel, which literally means “a faller” does not seem grammatically correct—before he falls he is not a “faller”—a more generic term such as “Adam” or “Ish” would seem appropriate. The Gemara in Shabbos (32a) explains this choice of language: “Rauy Zeh Lipol MiShises Yimei Beraishis…” This individual was destined to fall, thus he is indeed a Nofel, and in fact his fate determined during the very creation of the world. The Torah is only warning us here that we need not be the cause of his death.

Based on these words of Chazal, Rabbeinu Bachya speaks about our predetermined fate. He writes that our individual ups and downs, our successes and failures are all fixed and determined. Whether our Parnasah will come of our own doing or at the hands of others, whether we will live tranquil lives, where and how our end will ultimately come, are all part of the Breah and have been set since Shises Yimei Beraishis.

Thus, engrained in this otherwise unassuming Mitzvah is a lesson in Emunah and Bitachon. The very foundation of our faith and the way in which we lead our lives can be found in the Mitzvah of Makeh—a rather unlikely location for such an important message.

A different, yet equally fundamental, idea can be found in the Mitzvah of Kelai Behema. The Torah tells us that one cannot use an ox and donkey to plow together. This would generally be regarded as a Chok as there is no readily apparent reason for such a prohibition. The Da’as Zekenim, however, offers a stunningly insightful idea: oxen chew their cud, while donkeys do not. Therefore, if we were to yolk these two species together the donkey would hear the ox chewing, and assume that its was eating as he went hungry.

The Ba’al HaTurim points out that the word “Tacharosh” appears twice in Tanach: once here and once in Mishlei: “Al Tacharosh Al Reacha Rah.” The connection between these two Pessukim speaks for itself: the Torah forbids us from using an ox and a dokey in the same plow because it might lead to displeasure on the part of the donkey. If we are to be this careful when it comes to the feelings of an animal, all the more so we must tread so cautiously when it comes to our fellow man. We must stay so far from any behavior which may lead to disappointment or frustration on the part of another person: Al Tacharosh Al Reacha Rah.

We see yet another message—one that can dictate our every personal interaction—hidden within this Mitzvah that would seem otherwise unremarkable, so to speak.

Why did the Torah choose these Mitzvos, Makeh and Kelai Behema, to teach us these fundamental lessons? Surely these messages could have been taught either directly or through other Mitzvos—why is this the place where two such vital lessons are taught?

If we better understand the concept of Mizvah Goreres Mitzvah, perhaps we can gain some clarity into these Pessukim as well.

The Mishna in Avos tells us that Ben Azzai said: “Havei Ratz L’Mitzvah Kalah K’Chamurah…SheMitzvah Goreres Mitzvah.” This Mishna is of course the source for this widely known concept. The glaring question is why Ben Azzai mentions Mitzvah Kallah at all? The way we understand Mizvah Goreres Mitzvah, doing one Mitzvah leads to an opportunity to do another Mitzvah regardless of the type of Mitzvah one performs. Why then does Ben Azzai stress that one should run after “small” Mitzvos specifically?

Rabbeinu Yona, in his Pirush on Avos, explains that Ben Azzai is offering advice on a path to growth in Mitzvos. When a person does a small Mitzvah, he is elevated and brought closer to Hashem. Thereafter it is easier for him to accomplish greater acts, which may have previously been too difficult for him to achieve, as a result of his elevated level.

It is interesting to note that Rabbeinu Yona refers to this as Teva: this is not a gift of Ruchnias or some sort of Mofes, it is natural—the fulfillment of “small”, easier, Mitzvos naturally leads a person to an ability to do do those Mitzvos which take more effort.

With this in mind it is understandable why the idea of Mitzvah Goreres Mitzvah is learned out of these Pessukim: these Mitzvos as the prototypical Mitzvos Kallos.

The Rashash asks why Ben Zoma seems to imply that the only reason to run after Mitvos Kallos is because of Mitzvah Goreres Mitzvah—should we not run after a Mitzvah in order to fulfil it for the sake of fulfilling the Mitzvos? He answers that the Mitzvos Kallos to which Ben Assai refers are those that we have no Chiyuv to go looking for, Mitzvos that are only fulfilled in the case that one is in a circumstance of Chiyuv. Even those Mitzvos, explains Ben Azzai, are worth running after for the benefit that they bring a person in terms of Mitzvah Goreres Mitzvah. The examples of these types of Mitzvos that the Rashash brings are Shiluach HaKen and Tzitzis: these are both Mitzvos that one only fulfils if and when he happens upon them—one is not required to go looking for a nest in order to be Mikayem the Mitzvah of Shiluach HaKen and one is not requires to don a garment of four corners in order to become Mechuyav in Tzitzis.

The Torah teaches us the concept of Mitzvah Goreres Mitzvah specifically with these Pessukim because it wishes to teach us the power of even a “small” Mitzvah, even a Mitzvah Keyumis which one is not absolutely required to fulfill: each act of a Mitzvah elevates us to a new level and makes it easier for us to be Mekayem other Mitzvos. These seemingly “minor” Mitzvos are in no way small, they enable us to grow and be Mekayem other Mitzvos which may otherwise seem inaccessible to us.

It is therefore befitting that the Torah chose these Pessukim to also teach us weighty lessons in Emunah, Bitachon and Ben Adam L’Chaveiro. We may be tempted to gloss over these Pessukim, which contain Mitzvos that are not applicable to many of us, but the Torah wants us to realize that there is depth and import to every Mitzvah. That is why these messages are contained within these otherwise “minor” Mitzvos.

A similar message can be seen from the choice of the word “Gedilim” to refer to Tzitizis in this Parsha, rather than the word Tzitzis itself. The Ba’al HaTurim mentions that this word appears only one other time in Tanach: in Sefer Melachim where the Navi discusses the Binyan Bais Hamikdash.

The Navi there tells us that Shlomo HaMelech brought Chiram, an accomplished craftsman, from the land of Tzur to build the Bais HaMikdash. The first item that Chiram made, which the Passuk describes, are the pillars which stood in front of the Bais Hamikdash and the Navi describes in great detail the finishing work on those pillars. The word “Gedilim” appears there to describe a fine detail that was found on the very top of these pillars—far from the view of the naked eye. It is understandable that great attention was paid to these details as Shlomo certainly wished the Bais Hashem to be the most beautiful and finely crafted structure possible. The detailed description that the Passuk provides is no doubt a testament to this focus.

Perhaps the Torah is sending us a message with the use of the word Gedilim in this context. We may look at a Mitzvah such as Tzitizis as minor, especially it is not a Mitzvah Chiyuvis, but the Torah reminds us that there is no such thing as a minor detail. Just as when one builds a home he pays attention to even the most inconsequential finishing detail, and indeed finely crafted details are the sign of a well-built home, so to no Mitzvah is insignificant. Rather, the attention to detail that we exhibit in fulfilling these minor Mitzvos affects the way that we are able to carry out other Mitzvos of seemingly greater import.

This is an especially important lesson as we approach the Yomim Noraim. We all know that it is important to make Kabalos at this time of year, to make resolutions regarding our Shmiras HaMitzvos so that we may improve in the coming year. This is an essential part of this season. Many of us, however, struggle with these Kabalos: not wanting to

low-ball or underestimate our abilities, we make Kabalos that are grand in scale but which turn out to be largely unsustainable. Within a few weeks of Succos, if we’re lucky, the Kabalos prove too difficult and our inability to maintain them becomes clear.

Many Morei Derech therefore suggest that we make only “minor” Kabalos, aimed at improving ourselves on a small scale. I recently heard that the Kabala made by Rav Shach one year was to Bentsch from a Bentscher on Shabbos—this is an example of a minor Kabbalah. Rather than attempting to change and entire behavior or attitude it is aimed at incremental, yet sustainable, change. The challenge that we face is the notion that minor Kabalos are not worthy of us, and that we require more sweeping change.

With the lesson of this week’s Parsha in mind, however, this misconception is brushed aside. The power of a minor Kabalah lies not only in its sustainability: our ability to accomplish the larger, more consqeuntial change, is fueled by smaller and more incremental acts. When we do something small, or stay away from a “minor” Aveira, that act enables us to grow further. The lessons of these Pessukim can help us make successful Kabalos which will enable us to grow to heights previously thought impossible through the power of Mitzvah Goreres Mitzvah.