There is no escaping the frantic pace of modern living. Fast food, same-day deliveries, instant bank transfers—you name it—everything operates at hyper speed. Quite frankly, we wouldn't want it any other way. Incessant rush defines the 21st-century way of being; our lives are dictated by it. Let's be honest: how many of us could return to the tedious days of physical catalogues, A-Z guides, and handwritten letters?
And look, our addiction to instantaneity makes sense. People are wired to crave novelty, which means waiting around gets dull. Buffering videos or slow deliveries disrupt the sense of seamless gratification we've been conditioned to expect. Economic factors are at play here, as well. In our consumer hellscape, capital has grokked that time is a commodity. No surprises, then, with corporations' keenness on rapid delivery, one-click purchases, and instant updates. Even comic book hero, the Flash, would probably succumb to the siren song of on-demand Uber transportation and Starbucks coffees.
Humans are flawed, impatient creatures. It is understandable when we want things in a hurry. But what about God?
We'd expect speed to be irrelevant to an All-Powerful Being. Just His eternal nature ought to automatically negate time considerations. You'd think a perk of being transcendent is that you never have to worry about standing in line. Isn't it strange, then, that our Sages consider the pace at which we perform God's commandments a critical feature of their observance?
The Talmud introduces a principle of zerizim makdimim l’mitzvos. Essentially, this means that “Enthusiastic believers speedily perform mitzvos at the earliest possible opportunity.” Clearly, the need for speed when fulfilling commandments has nothing to do with God and everything to do with us. One of the formative traits of Rabbi Pinchas Ben Yair's famous ladder to spiritual excellence is alacrity. It follows that in some way or other, mitzvos have more impact on their performers when carried out promptly.
We can grasp this at a certain level. Punctuality is a virtue, after all. And I get it—there's no pride in being a slacker. Still, it seems a bit excessive to give speed such a say in how our mitzvos are graded?
Two answers to this question powerfully resonate with me. The Maharal famously explains that although mitzvos occur in physical reality, they are rooted in a more profound spiritual source: God's will. In essence, then, we are dealing with actions not strictly of this world but from a place transcending the material realm—entities that paradoxically manifest immeasurable infinity within the actionable finite. To perform mitzvos hastily is to identify with their essence. How so? Because acting in such a way means we recognise that these actions don't actually belong in time; a basic building block of our bounded existence. We are striving to raise the mitzvah beyond life's ever-whirring clock. The imagery invoked here is profoundly moving. When performing mitzvos, man, confined to his limited domain, reaches longingly towards his limitless Creator.
A second approach builds on a Zohar, which cryptically labels mitzvos as 'evarim de'malkah' or the King's limbs. Obviously, this personification is a metaphor. But a metaphor for what? In his classic work Tanya, Rabbi Shneur Zalman Liadi sees God expressing himself on earth through mitzvos, analogous to how we actualise ourselves through our bodies. God desires that we reveal Him within our temporal horizons, that mankind, so to speak, takes the role of his Creator's limbs on this physical plane. Human bodies act swiftly when carrying out their own desires -reflexes respond instantly to our needs. We must emulate such urgent responsiveness if we wish to embody God's will entirely. To delay action is to diminish presence. When divine commands seamlessly align with human deeds, we fulfil our role as 'evarim de'malkah', limbs of the King.
We asked why such priority is given to performing commandments quickly. For me, both of the latter answers are wonderfully complementary. The first presents man stretching out towards his Creator. The second sees the Creator manifesting in man. Rav Wolber used to say that there is both a metzaveh (commander) and a metzuveh (commanded) who come together in the concept of a mitzvah. The mitzvah, then, is not just a command to be carried out but a sacred opportunity to embody the divine and raise the world to him. We bridge the gap between Creator and created with each urgent, reflexive response to God's call. Expressing the Almighty in everything we do.
Keep Pondering, and Have A Wonderful Week!
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Your writing is exquisite!
Beautiful piece Yaacov. I love the vivid way you make your ideas come to life. Both answers you present here are powerful on the spiritual plane, but I find the most powerful answer the practical one: the longer you wait to do something, the less you feel like doing it (i.e. exercise, work etc.) The longer you put something off, the more of an annoyance and imposition it becomes in your mind. When you do something right away you don't give yourself the time to think of all the reasons you could be doing anything else. Waiting turns a mitzva from an opportunity into a chore.