More or Less
The Torah tells us not to add to or subtract from the Torah. We are to take the Torah as G-d gave it, not less and not more. If G-d told us to hang four fringes on a four-cornered garment, we hang four, not five, and not three. If someone asks whether you are observant, the proper answer is yes. The improper answer is “more or less.” Don’t be more or less observant. Be observant.
On Yom Kippur following 9/11, I spoke about this idea. Ten is a complete number. Add to it or subtract from it, and it is no longer complete. The Torah, too, is perfect. When we add to it or subtract from it, we no longer have the Torah that G-d gave us. We end up with something else. When people substitute their own vision for G-d’s will, religion can become a tool for evil. We saw a horrific example of that on 9/11.
It is easy to understand why removing parts of G-d’s law is dangerous. But why is it wrong to add to it?
The answer is that the moment you add to G-d’s law, it is no longer G-d’s; it becomes yours. You are not connecting to G-d; only to yourself. Also, once you begin walking your own path, even with the best intentions, you eventually end up where you want to go rather than where G-d wants you to go. The initial deviation may be imperceptible, but over time it can become enormous. The path to perfection is unwavering devotion to G-d’s Torah. Don’t subtract, and don’t add. Because, in this case, more is less.
Touching the Tree
Here is a good example: G-d told Adam and Eve not to eat from the forbidden tree. When the serpent enticed Eve, she intensified the prohibition. “G-d said I shouldn’t even touch it, and you suggest I eat it?”
The moment she said that, the serpent knew he had won. He pushed her against the tree and said, “You touched it and survived. If G-d wasn’t truthful about touching it, why should you believe Him about eating it?” And eat, she did.
By adding to the commandment, she ended up violating the commandment. So long as we preserve G-d’s law, we are safe. The moment we reshape it—even to strengthen it—we place ourselves at risk.
The Rabbi’s Parting Advice
Rabbi Levi Yitzchak Schneerson, father of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, was arrested by the Soviets for strengthening Judaism in Ukraine. Before his exile, community leaders asked how they would know what to do without him.
He replied with a beautiful insight. The Torah begins with the letter bet and ends with lamed. Together they spell bal, “do not.”
Do not what?
The letters preceding bet and lamed are alef and chaf, spelling ach—”however.” The letters following them are gimel and mem, spelling gam—”also.”
“However” subtracts. “Do this, however, don’t do that.” “Also” adds.
Rabbi Schneerson told them: “Bal—never choose ach, doing less than the Torah asks. And bal—never choose gam, doing more than the Torah asks. Stay on the straight path, and you will be okay.”
The Silver Spoon
Rabbi Yaakov Kranz, the Dubner Maggid, illustrated this with a parable.
A man borrowed a silver spoon from his neighbor. The next morning, he returned with two spoons. “The spoon gave birth overnight,” he explained. The neighbor thought he was crazy, but happily accepted the extra spoon.
A few days later, the man borrowed the neighbor’s beautiful silver Chanukiah. Expecting another windfall, the neighbor gladly agreed. The following day, the borrower returned empty-handed. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “The Chanukiah died.”
The owner exploded. “Everyone knows silver doesn’t die!” The borrower smiled. “If a spoon can give birth, then surely a Chanukiah can die.”
(The modern equivalent is believing impossibly high investment returns, only to discover it was a scam.)
The lesson is obvious. If we are willing to bend the rules to gain more, eventually the rules will be bent to give us less. The Torah’s boundaries cannot be adjusted in either direction.
New Prohibitions in the Modern Age
This raises another question. Our sages established many safeguards and restrictions over the centuries. How is that permissible if we may not add to the Torah?
The answer is that the Torah does not prohibit the creation of safeguards. It prohibits presenting them as G-d’s commandments. As long as we distinguish between biblical law, rabbinic enactments, and custom, additional safeguards are entirely legitimate. The problem begins only when we blur those distinctions.
In recent decades, many new stringencies have emerged. For example, some communities filter their tap water because microscopic contaminants have been discovered. Similar practices continue to arise. Why?
Part of the answer is simple: we know more than previous generations. A century ago, many Jews consumed ordinary products without kosher certification because they assumed they were kosher. As certification agencies learned more about modern manufacturing, they discovered that even simple foods often contain non-kosher ingredients. More knowledge naturally leads to more caution.
But there is another answer. It is, in a sense, a first-world problem.
My grandmother, who practiced Judaism clandestinely in the Soviet Union until her escape, explained it to me like this. She said, “Lazer, when keeping Shabbat could cost you your livelihood, or sending your children to Jewish schools could land you in prison, you had little time to worry about things like microscopic bugs in the water.” Prosperity gives us the freedom to devote attention to details our ancestors simply could not afford to consider.
So, when someone proposes another stringency, don’t think first about the restriction. Think gratefully about the blessing. G-d has given us such prosperity that we are privileged to confront these challenges.
I recently came across a beautiful thought from Rabbi Tzadok Hakohen. In earlier generations, Jews possessed greater spiritual stature and needed fewer customs and stringencies. As our spiritual level declined, G-d, in His kindness, provided us with more opportunities to accumulate merit.
For example, our ancestors prayed with profound sincerity and earned abundant merit each day. Today, we often rush through our prayers and earn less. To compensate, G-d gave us many additional opportunities to serve Him through customs and stringencies, allowing us to replenish what we otherwise might have lacked.
May we merit the coming of Mashiach, speedily in our days. Amen.