Rav Nachman of Breslov tells the story of a ruler who desired to have the portrait of a powerful king. One day he asked his viceroy to travel to the guarded island where the king lived and attempt to draw his picture. The viceroy accepted the task and soon discovered that the king was exceedingly difficult to see. So he devised a plan. He let people know he was interested in investments. Then he let himself be duped and took the people to court. The case rose up in ranks until it reached the king. When the viceroy finally entered the royal chambers, he found that the king spoke from behind a curtain. The viceroy had stopped thinking rationally at that point, and began to shout, “What kind of a king are you?! Where are you anyway?!” The more he shouted the lower the curtain dropped, until it was drawn aside completely and he found himself facing an invisible king.
We yearn to have Hashem’s portrait. We want the quick picture but fail to understand that developing a relationship takes years and much effort. Our ego says, “I understand everything, even Hashem.” But in reality we encounter seeming injustice all the time. Hashem made it this way so that we would move past immediacy and pettiness. The moment of enlightenment comes when the curtain is pulled aside and we see that the King is beyond words and anything we can discern. At that moment we feel humble and small before our Creator.
Hashem wants us to be people of truth, greatness, and heroism. He holds back his own honor so that we may see His humility. The Tomer Devora says one of the names of Hashem is Melech Ne’elam, the hidden King. The more a person learns Torah and discovers Hashem’s greatness and His unfathomable nature, the more puny he is in his own eyes. Torah shows us how Hashem contracted His will and understanding in a way in which He can be partially discovered. When we see Hashem’s wisdom, our humility grows progressively greater.
Recognizing the power and incredible intelligence that Hashem invested in the world should engender fear of transgressing any of His laws. When a person sins he’s really saying, “I don’t appreciate this commandment. I don’t trust that the ramifications of violating it can have enormous impact.” This shows a lack of respect for the system and its Author. Yirah (fear) is a direct result of anavah (humility) as the pasuk states, “Eikav anavah yirat Hashem.” The more a person knows Hashem, the more awe he will feel.
Just as anavah and yirah are the roots of many positive traits, desire and anger are the root of all negative traits. The voice of fury and arrogance says, “This isn’t how it should be, it should be how I want it to be.” In contrast humility says, “Hashem wants me to be in this place. I am supposed to contend with this and it will ultimately take me to somewhere good.” While fear of Hashem brings one to awe before the limitations imposed by the Torah, taavah (physical craving) is about following one’s will. Yirah breaks through desire and yearning for this world. The more one see Hashem’s providence in the picture, the more one sees His caring and love for every Jew.
The Torah is compared to a woman. The same way a woman bears children, perpetuating the species, the Torah leads to mitzvot. Chazal say, a woman is only for children. The Torah exists for the mitzvot. You can’t perform them properly without Torah. The world changes when good deeds are done.