Ki Tavo: Membership Rewards

Devarim 28: 1-5

 

Once in the town of Berkeley Heights there lived a girl who had everything.

Well, almost everything. She had a lot of clothes of all kinds in every color of the rainbow. She had a wicked bicycle and a nasty rip-stick. She had many sneakers and more shoes than a family of cobblers. She had a cell phone with unlimited texting. She had every hair clip and band that any girl could want, and then a few more. And don't get me started on all the jewelery...

But there was one material object she didn't have--one more thing she truly desired.

An iPod Touch.

True, she had her elder brother's old iPod Nano, the one he gave her when he got his iPod Touch (which he paid for with baby sitting earnings, bless his soul), but that wasn't enough. Three of her best friends had the newest iPod, and although the tenth commandment may have suggested not coveting other's possessions, she was finding that whole mitzvah quite a challenge.

She truly wanted it, and she wanted it bad.

While her brother was a prodigious wage earner, and a very popular baby sitter around the neighborhood, she was not as successful at the child-watching arts. She preferred to text friends, listen to music, or play computer games, and diaper changing was out of the question. So the iPod seemed far from her grasp (or should I say, touch?).

But she had a plan.

Ariella--for that was the lovely girl's name--decided to become a true "mitzvah girl." She would fulfill as many commandments as she could and observe them with all the fervor and dedication of which she was capable. Surely if worldly means (in other words, her parents) would not provide her with her true desire, then heavenly means (in other words, G-d) would.

Normally Ariella was a very good girl, but now she became quite exceptional. She was the first one at davening in the morning and prayed with such fervor. Help an old lady cross the street? No problem. And she was even more careful than usual to say her brachot, her blessings, on her food, and to never speak unkindly of others. It was truly inspiring.

Her parents were enjoying the new improved Ariella (her father started calling her "Ariella 2.0"), but after a few weeks, it became obvious that she was getting a bit discouraged. When was G-d going to give her the iPod? Her mother considered buying her the iPod as a reward for her efforts, but  agreed that this would send a strange message. Still, something had to give.

With no answers at hand, Ariella's father went to consult Rabbi Volkenheimer, the spiritual leader of their local shul, the Young Israel of Berkeley Heights. He was very wise, and surely he could help them.

Rabbi Volkenheimer asked to meet with Ariella to discuss her situation. Ariella came in reluctantly, because she really hadn't spoken with the rabbi since her Bat Mitzvah, and the venerable old gentleman had probably never set foot in an Apple store in his entire life. 

The Rabbi sat Ariella down and stared at her intently.

"Nu, Ariella, so what gives?"

"I think you know perfectly well what's going on, Rabbi V. I want an iPod Touch, and Hashem is just not coming through."

"Not coming through, eh? The almighty creator of the universe did not produce the goods?" The rabbi paused for a brief moment to chuckle into his long white beard. Then he resumed his look of world weary wisdom.

"And what made you think that your plan was going to work? What made you think the Lord was going to get you your electronics?"

"Well, Rabbi V., in school this year we learned parshat Ki Tavo, and in the parsha it says that if we follow in G-d's ways, we get all kinds of rewards. Your crops are blessed, your sheep are blessed, even your goats get a blessing. So I figured that if an Israelite can get a nice juicy animal for his religious efforts, why can't I get an MP3 player with a touch screen?"

"Hmmmmmm," Rabbi Volkenheimer stroked his beard. "Interesting. You have great faith, Ariella. Your religious dedication is strong. A pure neshoma, you've got."

Ariella smiled politely. She had forgotten from her Bat Mitzvah meeting that Rabbi V. sounded a lot like Yoda.

The Rabbi reached over to his bookcase and pulled out a chumash. He read the psukim in question to himself and then he spoke.

"I think I understand these psukim a little differently than you do, Ariella. I think that what G-d is saying here is that the true reward of doing the mitzvot is the ability to do more mitzvot."

"Huh?"

"I guess another way to say it is that virtue is its own reward. Do you follow?"

"Not so much."

"Hashem rewards the Jewish people with material success so they have the strength and ability to go back and do more good. Let me ask you a question: These last few weeks,when you did all these extra mitzvot, and you dedicated yourself more intensely to the ones that you normally do, how did it make you feel?"

"Hmmmmm," Ariella said. Now it was her turn to stroke her chin. "I suppose it made me feel good. I enjoyed helping others, and my davening had more meaning to me."

"Maybe that was the real reward the Torah's talking about in Ki Tavo. And the iPod just isn't in the cards right now."

"Good one, Rabbi V. You truly are like Yoda."

"Come again?"

"Nothing. Just that you are very wise."

Rabbi Volkenheimer reached into his top desk drawer and handed Ariella a purple lollipop.

"Just so that you don't go empty handed."

Ariella smiled and took the lollipop.

"And Ariella, about the iPod; were you going for the eight, the thirty-two, or the sixty-four gigabyte version?"

"I guess the eight."

"Aim high, Ariella, aim high." Rabbi Volkenheimer extended his right arm toward the ceiling. "The sky's the limit."

 

Comments

[stp]

Can you please try writing (or typing) more often?

I enjoy your stories immensely!

Have a great yomtov!