by Rabbi Yisrael Rutman

Keeping priorities straight isn’t easy. That’s why there are so many expressions for getting them wrong. Like putting the cart before the horse. Penny wise, pound foolish. Not seeing the forest for the trees. Throwing the baby out with the bathwater.

Indeed, the problem seems to start very early in life. As in walking before you can crawl. So it should come as no surprise that in Judaism we also tend to get confused as to the relative importance of things.

It also starts early and continues to the grave. For example, at a brit milah, many think that pronouncing the blessings after the milah, or giving a speech, is a greater honor than sandak (the one who holds the baby during circumcision) or the amidah l’brochos (holding him during the blessings). The obvious reason for this is that there is a tendency to accord the highest honors to the most visible role. That which is performed quietly or privately is thought to be of lesser importance.

Thus, the assumption that leading the congregation in prayer or reading the Torah portion in synagogue is the central feature of Jewish life. And something worth fighting over, too. Of course, as Rabbitzen Tzippora Heller has pointed out, this is a strange point of view in a religion which teaches that the whole world exists in the merit of 36 hidden tsadikkim.

The Talmud takes note of the problem, and how it can afflict even the wisest among us. One of the sages was admonished for his lengthy prayer at the expense of time he could have been devoting to Torah study: “You exchange eternal life for temporal life.” Even though both activities are spiritual in nature, prayer concerns itself mostly with asking God for our needs, thus it is rooted in the temporal life of this world. Torah, on the other hand, has no direct relationship with our material needs; one who studies Torah is engaged in a purely spiritual pursuit, which is above time.

Likewise, the Talmud excoriates those who foolishly stand up in respect for a Torah scroll being carried by, but don’t stand up in respect for a Torah scholar, who has internalized and personifies what is taught in the Torah, and has become a living Torah.

In the Ashrei prayer, it is customary to hold one’s hand up entreatingly when saying the verse, “Open Your hand and satisfy every living thing with favor.” Said with kavannah, with proper intention, it helps for a livelihood. So people think it’s the most important part of Ashrei and save up their kavannah for it. But it’s not. It’s actually more important to have kavannah each time one says the name of God. The custom is meant to encourage kavannah for livelihood too (Rabbi Yitzchak Zilberstein, Aleinu L’Shabeiach).

The problem with priorities indeed follows us to the grave. The attitude to Kaddish is a locus of wrong priorities. People who are otherwise non-observant will often go to great lengths to say Kaddish for a loved one. Yizkor, the mourning service on Yom Kippur and other holy days, has always drawn a bigger crowd than other parts of the prayer services. There are those who would otherwise never step foot in a synagogue, but they will come for Yizkor, or even on a daily basis for a whole year to say Kaddish.* Yet, how many even think of setting aside a few minutes each day to study Torah in the merit of the deceased? Even though the truth is that a child who studies Torah provides greater merit for a deceased parent than saying Kaddish. Torah study is the greatest of all mitzvos, while Kaddish is merely a custom. The dead can perform no mitzvot, but they can accrue reward in Heaven through an offspring’s Torah and mitzvot because they made it possible by bringing them into the world.

Of course, one should do both. But it’s hard to keep priorities in order.

* Actually, the custom is 11 months from the day of burial, because the wicked require a full year of kaddish, and we do not wish to imply that the deceased was wicked.

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