Shemot 5775 - English

By Rabbi Rami Pavolotzky
Congregation B´nei Israel
San Jose, Costa Rica

Yirat Shamayim, the reverential fear of G-d

When finishing his rabbinical studies, a student wishing to become a rabbi must present a final exam in front of a Beit-Din, a rabbinical tribunal or jury.  For this exam, he must be very well prepared and ready to answer all kinds of questions.  There is a story about a young rabbinical candidate who came before a Beit-Din; in his Beit-Din, there was an old and wise rabbi.  He asked the student what was the maximum goal a rabbi should set for himself after many years in a community.  The student attempted several answers, such as making the community achieve many precepts, having the young people identify completely with Judaism, have all its members attend services, etc.  Even though these were all noble and valuable wishes, none of these answers was considered correct by the old rabbi.  In the end, he explained to the young man that the highest objective a community rabbi should set for himself in the long-term is for the members of his community to truly develop a sense of Yirat Shamayim, literally meaning “fear of Heaven”, metaphorically the reverential fear of G-d.

Today this concept is usually used to designate a pious person, someone who carefully obeys every precept of Jewish law, no matter how complicated, uncomfortable, or even dangerous it might be.  A person who makes sacrifices to fulfill the mitzvoth is considered yereh shamayim, fearful of G-d.  However, in the Tanakh, the Hebrew Bible, the concept is somewhat different.

This week we begin reading the book of Shemot, the story of our people’s slavery in Egypt and their eventual liberation.  The pharaoh wanted to get rid of the Hebrew people, thus he instructed Hebrew midwives to kill all baby boys as soon as they were born.  However, the Torah tells us that the midwives “fearing Elohim” (Shemot 1:17) let the babies live.  The midwives disobeyed the Pharaoh’s order, something for which they knew they could be heavily punished.  The reason: fear of G-d.

Yet, what does it mean that the midwives feared G-d?  Clearly, this fear had nothing to do with a complex theological system, for they were not expert rabbis, university professors or distinguished intellectuals, they were simple people.  It wasn’t based on the observance of a legal code or a law, for these were unknown before the exodus from Egypt.  At first glance, this “fear of G-d” appears to stem from an intuition that G-d demanded an ethical behavior from mankind.  It is hard to believe that the midwives meditated on laws and norms, and it seems to me that they were simply horrified at the order.  They probably felt that if there was a G-d in the universe, He would certainly condemn an act as despicable as murdering a newly born child.  The midwives discovered instinctively a fear of G-d.

Modern man has lost some of this reverential fear for a superior being.  Many times, he thinks he can act in the world without anyone to point out what is right and what is wrong.  Man’s power in this day and age is so strong, that it is hard for him to feel horror for something other than his own death.  

We must regain this primitive fear we instinctively feel when we are about to do something unfair, immoral, or dishonest.  It is a good thing that we can feel this.  From the religious point of view, we might say that this fear of G-d is perhaps more important than the belief in G-d (please forgive me for not elaborating on this statement, but this is a short commentary).  It is not the fear of being punished, but the feeling that we must always make an effort to become better people, more sensitive, more respectful.  

Being Jewish means at least trying to feel a little of that religious fear, feeling that we must act correctly even when no one is watching… especially when no one is watching for there is a G-d supervising us constantly.  It means not believing we own this world and can do whatever we want without considering people around us, if they are suffering, or if we are causing damage, etc.   We must abandon the excessive banality of modern life, to once again feel our heart vibrate and move when something is unjust and immoral.

As I write these thoughts, it reminds me of the dialogue between that old rabbi and the young student about the essence of religious life… and in my ears, the words yirat shamayim, the fear of Heaven, resound.  Will we feel it again?

¡Shabbat Shalom!

Rabbi Rami Pavolotzky

Congregation B´nei Israel

San Jose, Costa Rica