World of Our Sages: The Giver, Not the Gift
October 2, 2008
Having discussed the appropriate phrases for the zimun, the invitation to recite Grace After Meals as a quorum (M. Brachot 7:3), the Talmud turns to the exact wording of these phrases (B. Brachot 50a). The final words of the invitational zimun acknowledge the Almighty's goodness in granting sustenance.
About these words, one sage comments: "From one's recitation of blessings, it is discernable whether the person is a Torah scholar or not." The passage continues: "If the one reciting the zimun says, 'Blessed is the One, of whose we have eaten and through His goodness [u'vetuvo] we live' - this is an indication of wisdom. If an ever so slightly different wording concludes the statement - 'and from His goodness [u'mituvo] we live' - this is a sign of an ignoramus."
What is the difference between the two phrases: "through His goodness we live" as opposed to "from His goodness we live"? In Hebrew it is a difference of only one letter: What does this one-letter variation tell us about the reciter?
One commentator explained that saying "through His goodness we live" indicates the Almighty's unbounded goodwill, whereas saying "from His goodness we live" suggests that from God's unlimited ability to bestow goodness, He chooses to grant only a portion, perhaps even a minimal amount, to enable us to live. This one letter variation reflects whether we praise the Almighty for unlimited munificence or for giving us just enough to live (Rashi, 11th century, France).
The Talmud questions this assertion by citing a verse from a prayer of King David: And from Your blessing, may the house of Your servant be blessed forever (II Samuel 7:29). King David, it seems, used a similar phrase to the ignoramus's zimun recitation: The ignoramus says "from His goodness we live" and King David turned to the Almighty requesting "from Your blessing." The difference between King David and the ignoramus is explained: When thanking the Almighty for His goodness, as in the case of the zimun, we should not limit our praise; when asking for God's benevolence, as in the case of King David, we should be unassuming and present a modest request.
Citing a further biblical verse, the Talmud offers an exception to this rule: Open your mouth widely - says the Almighty in reference to our requests - and I will fill it (Psalms 81:11). This verse, the Talmud explains, refers to grasping the depths of Torah, and in this area we are encouraged not to limit our appeals.
Thus the sum of the talmudic passage is that when acknowledging the Almighty's beneficence we should not limit our praise; when petitioning God we should be more reserved, unless we are asking for assistance in comprehending Torah. God's unlimited philanthropy should not be called upon (except for Torah study); it should only be acknowledged later.
The beloved hassidic master, Rabbi Levi Yitzhak of Berdichev (1740-1810) was a leader known to flaunt propriety in his conversations with God. He suggested an entirely different paradigm: Our requests should indeed call on the Almighty's unbounded benevolence. Rabbi Levi Yitzhak explained: On the High Holy Days, as we stand in prayer beseeching the Almighty, what should we ask for? The primary appeal of each person should be that the creator will grant goodness to all. The basis of the request should not be because we are deserving of such a judgment, rather because God bestows goodness out of His unlimited kindness and desire to do good. We should stand as paupers before the Almighty king asking for beneficence, though we may be undeserving; we ask for all God's goodness, not just a minimal measure.
Why is this the recommended course? Rabbi Levi Yitzhak continued: If we stand before the Almighty on our own merits, we may be found lacking. Certainly our merits are measurable and finite. It is the unfortunate possibility that our merits will not suffice for our requests. When we ask for the benevolence of the Almighty, we ask for the unlimited.
Rabbi Levi Yitzhak offered a proof text: I will mention the acts of God's kindness, and the praises of God, according to all that God has bestowed upon us, and the great goodness toward the house of Israel which He has bestowed on them according to His mercies and according to the abundance of His kindness (Isaiah 63:7). When is there great goodness toward the house of Israel? Rabbi Levi Yitzhak answered: When it comes from the abundance of His kindness.
Another hassidic source may be expressing a similar sentiment with regard to daily prayers. In his early 18th-century kabbalistic prayer book, Rabbi Shabbetai of Raszkow writes that at the end of the silent Amida a person should "not expect any favor, Heaven forbid," perhaps indicating that the basis of the Amida entreaties are not the merits of the supplicant.
Returning to Rabbi Levi Yitzhak, he continued with a parable to illustrate a further aspect: A king gave the same gift to two of his subjects. The first recipient was excited because the gift was truly valuable; the second was thrilled for a different reason: "How lucky I am to receive a present from the king," he thought. For the second recipient, the present indicated a special relationship with the king. While the first recipient's enthusiasm was limited to the value of the gift, the second beneficiary's excitement was unbounded for he valued the giver rather than the gift.
As we stand before the Almighty in prayer, we can choose our path of prayer: We can follow the talmudic outline, modestly requesting the minimum and lavishly heaping blessings for the Almighty's past benevolence. Alternatively, we can follow the suggestion of Rabbi Levi Yitzhak, coming before God not on the basis of our own limited merits, but turning to the limitless kindness of God and asking for all of His goodness. Regardless of which path of prayer we choose, as we aspire to be written in the Book of Life, we should look to the giver not to the gift.