MARCH 2 • 2023 | 43 visions — image of God, faith in God, love of neighbor — and turns them into patterns of behavior. Halachah (Jewish law) involves a set of routines that — like those of the great creative minds — reconfigures the brain, giving discipline to our lives and changing the way we feel, think and act. A PATTERN OF BEHAVIOR Much of Judaism must seem to outsiders, and sometimes to insiders also, boring, prosaic, mundane, repetitive, routine, obsessed with details and bereft for the most part of drama or inspiration. Yet that is precisely what writing the novel, com- posing the symphony, directing the film, perfecting the killer app or building a billion-dollar business is, most of the time. It is a matter of hard work, focused attention and daily rit- uals. That is where all sustain- able greatness comes from. We have developed in the West a strange view of religious experience: that it’s what over- whelms you when something happens completely outside the run of normal experience. You climb a mountain and look down. You are miracu- lously saved from danger. You find yourself part of a vast and cheering crowd. It’s how the German Lutheran theolo- gian Rudolf Otto (1869-1937) defined “the holy”: as a mystery (mysterium) both terrifying (tremendum) and fascinating (fascinans). You are awed by the presence of something vast. We have all had such experi- ences. But that is all they are: experiences. They linger in the memory, but they are not part of everyday life. They are not woven into the texture of our character. They do not affect what we do or achieve or become. Judaism is about changing us so that we become creative artists whose great- est creation is our own life. And that needs daily rituals: Shacharit, Minchah, Maariv, the food we eat, the way we behave at work or in the home, the choreography of holiness that is the special contribution of the priestly dimension of Judaism, set out in this week’s parshah and throughout the Book of Vayikra (Leviticus). These rituals have an effect. We now know through PET and fMRI scans that repeated spiritual exercise reconfigures the brain. It gives us inner resilience. It makes us more grateful. It gives us a sense of basic trust in the Source of our being. It shapes our identity, the way we act and talk and think. Ritual is to spiritual greatness what practice is to a tennis player, daily writing disciplines are to a novelist and reading company accounts are to Warren Buffett. They are the precondition of high achieve- ment. Serving God is avodah, which means hard work. If you seek sudden inspira- tion, then work at it every day for a year or a lifetime. That is how it comes. As a famous golfer is said to have said when asked for the secret of his suc- cess: “I was just lucky. But the funny thing is that the harder I practice, the luckier I become. ” The more you seek spiritual heights, the more you need the ritual and routine of Halachah, the Jewish “way” to God. The late Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks served as the chief rabbi of the United Hebrew Congregations of the Commonwealth, 1991-2013. His teach- ings have been made available to all at rabbisacks.org. This essay was written in 2016. SPIRIT Religion as Action T he Maharal (Prague, 1525-1609), in his book Netivot Olam (Netiv Ahavat Reia, 1), records an iconic debate between the rabbis of early rabbinic Judaism over which is the greatest, most encom- passing verse of Torah. Ben Zoma begins, asserting it is the Shemah, “Hear, Oh Israel, Y-H-V-H — Our God — Y-H-V-H is One” (Deuteronomy 6:4). Ask 10 Jews in the pews what the central credo of Judaism is, and at least a few will prob- ably say the Shemah. So, Ben Zoma’s logic is sound. God is One. That’s pretty inclusive. And important. Ben Nannos is up next, and he claims that there is an even more important verse than the Shemah: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Leviticus 19:18). It’s not called the “Golden Rule” for nothing, right? And no matter what you think about God, loving your neighbor is an admirable foundation for a religious life. Again, the reasoning is solid. Finally, Shimon ben Pazzi joins the conversation and offers his verse — a verse even greater, even more inclusive than the first two, which comes from this week’s Torah portion: “Now this is what you shall offer upon the altar: two yearling lambs each day, consistently (tamid). You shall offer the one lamb in the morning, and you shall offer the other lamb at twilight. ” (Exodus 29:38-39). This makes sense because … Wait, what? The most important, most inclusive verse in all of Torah is about sacrificing lambs? Counterintuitively, perhaps, the correct ruling, according to the text’s narrator, is ben Pazzi’s. Religion is made out to be this mystical, spiritual, esoteric experience. The Mt. Sinais and parting seas of the world. And, of course, in some ways, and in some instances, it can be. We yearn for it to be. But mostly, Judaism cares about doing Jewish, regularly. Aligning ourselves with Divine will every day. The narrator sides with ben Pazzi because serving the Divine with consistency, commit- ment and regularity is the key. For it’s that consis- tency of practice that leads to loving one’s neighbor, and it’s loving one’s neighbor that leads to marveling in God’s Oneness. But we don’t start with the abstract. We start with the doing. Not so much sacrificing lambs anymore, but trying to live a life of goodness, righteousness and holiness. According to this teaching, being Jewish is a title that must be earned through our actions. A verb not a noun. As Jews, our task is to live in right relationships, in integri- ty, aligning what we do with what we believe, orienting our actions with our values, day in and day out. That, says ben Pazzi, is the greatest lesson in Torah. Rabbi Nate DeGroot is the Hazon Detroit associate director and spiritual and program director. TORAH PORTION Rabbi Nate DeGroot Parshat Tetzaveh: Exodus 27:20-30:10; Deuteronomy 25:17-19; I Samuel 15:2-34.