It is a picture that every Yeshiva bachur is familiar with. You’ve prepared the Sugya now for two days. The Gemara, the Rishonim, the Achronim: every facet of the Gemara has been covered in depth. No matter what point the Rosh Yeshiva chooses to focus on, you’re ready. Every nuance mentioned in the back of the Frankle was examined, and the small printed guys under the Rosh were even covered in detail. Oh, but wait. What is that on the wall, just one hour before shiur is supposed to start? It is a list of the sources that everyone is supposed to prepare before shiur. For some reason, they have not been posted until now, but you’re sure there is a good reason for such delinquency.
As the new sources slowly permeate your train of thought, you remind yourself that it is not OK to curse in your head. You concentrate on the fact that this is not such a big deal; you can handle. So, you grab your study partner by the tzitzit and drag him over to your place. By the time shiur comes around you’ve finished a cursory read of almost half the sources, you’re disappointed, but confident that you’re, at least, remotely, prepared.
The Rosh Yeshiva starts, and an hour later he finishes. From the look on everyone else’s face, it is clear that you’re not the only one. You have no idea what he said. Even the sources that you did get to check out, did not help. You might as well have gone to a Russian geology class. All your preparation was for naught, and all your excitement is long gone. So you wonder: why must I be subjected to this?
The Rambam writes that every species has two goals: first, the perpetuation of the species, and second, to produce perfect specimen. In the case of humans, that would mean that the extraordinary people gain ‘Yedi’at Hashem.’ According to Rambam, only certain individuals will rise above the rest to achieve an understanding of Hashem which is not idolatrous. And of those few who shed their juvenile perspective and understanding of religion, only a select few will ever attain true knowledge of Hashem and worship Him for its own sake.
If people were left to their devices and inclinations, there would be madness. Nietzsche’s vision of a natural selection would storm forth with the physically weaker, or intellectually inferior, being either killed or enslaved. One would not be able to go outside without being overcome by fear that the local bully will knock off your head. One would not have access to food, for there would be no economy, nor currency, nor stores to shop in. In order to take care of all these problems, God created a system that would allow those with the right potential access to him. He ordained a judicial system, laws of interpersonal relationships, rules of dialogue, and according to some, He even told us how to put on our shoes; everything has been covered.
Even though Rambam thought the rabbis and Geonim of his generation, for the most part, were exceedingly lacking, in our generation, we could be sure that the Roshei Yeshiva of the world would understand that Rambam, of course, was referring to them when speaking about those who could approach the Divine. Who else does God care more about than his holy ones of each generation? If the world was only created for the four hundred Roshei Yeshiva of Jerusalem, or the six hundred Roshei Yeshiva of New York, would that not be good enough?
But in this picture, what is the job of the Roshei Yeshiva: is it to give esoteric Gemara shiurim, is it to show how the Maharal’s understanding of Aggadot lays the very foundation of our existence, is it to show us what the Midrash really-really means? I put forth the thesis that it is alright that these shiurim are not understood by almost anyone, that when you ask the Rosh Yeshiva for help or a letter of recommendation, you should realize that they are busy people, that it makes sense that their understanding about the nature of God’s existence and the world as a whole is correct, while every other rabbi, philosopher and theologian in the world are all just retarded. For if we take Rambam’s words seriously, and we should always take the Rambam’s words seriously, then we realize the world is for them. We are the pawns in their game of chess. They need us. They need someone to give shiur to, someone to be meshamash them, someone to get their groceries. We uphold, and lay the foundations for, the society that allows them to flourish. This is the world God made, this is my place, Baruch Hashem.
