Torah and mitzvos aren’t burdens – and they don’t have to feel like it either

Crushing or empowering?

A punishment or a privilege?

Facing the full brunt of our spiritual accountability, or achrayus, can be frightening. Overwhelming. Just… too much.

But. Living with accountability can also become our ticket to joy, excitement, and pride in our Judaism – and in our entire lives.

So – why do we see our spiritual responsibilities as such burdens? And how can we start drawing empowerment from them instead?

To answer our first question – it all comes down to our feelings about the amount of choice we’ve been given.

Too many of us feel like Torah and mitzvos are obligations that were simply dumped on us. We’re like minimum-wage employees, stuck taking orders whether we like it or not. So as much as we know intellectually that we need to do a good job, our hearts aren’t in the work. We often just take the attitude of “Well, whatever, I’ll try my best.”

But what if we weren’t just lowly workers? What if we were business owners? How would we feel then?

When you own a business, you’ve got at least as many responsibilities as a salaried worker – usually far more. But you don’t look at your work as a list of chores you’re stuck doing. You’ve chosen to build this business. Working on it, growing it, tending to it – they’re all labors of love. They’re exciting. You’re the creator here, and you’re building something lasting and powerful with your two hands.

When you own something, when you’re the boss – accountability is a given. You yourself want your work to go well, to produce results. It isn’t about answering to a taskmaster. It’s about measuring up to the goals you set for yourself. It’s about fulfilling your own dreams.

When you choose to get married, you don’t grumble about the diamond you have to buy your bride. You don’t drag yourself to the department store and pick the first ring in the display case. No! You’re thrilled with the opportunity to make this special purchase, and you do your absolute best to pick the perfect ring.

When you become a parent, you don’t kvetch about having to put food on the table for your kids. You feel good about your ability to provide for them. You feel fulfilled when you nourish them with healthy, filling food.

When accountability comes from a place of ownership, it isn’t a burden. It’s a source of pride, of joy, of satisfaction.

So how do we turn our Torah responsibilities from burdens to privileges?

By realizing how much ownership we can take in our spirituality; how much room we have to choose and build and create our own spiritual lives.

True, we’re obligated to daven. But there’s so much room within that obligation to be creative, to make it our own. Is neitz (pre-dawn tefillah) something we connect to? Is a later davening better? Do we enjoy singing and chazanus, or do we prefer simpler, straightforward minyanim? Do we focus on gratitude? On praise of Hashem? On emunah?

True, we need to keep Shabbos. But beyond the 39 melachos, there are endless ways to make Shabbos our own. Will we focus on beautifying the Shabbos? On keeping it holy by watching what we talk about? On increasing our Torah learning? On achieving serenity, “letting go and letting G-d”?

We need to stop looking at ourselves as paper-pushers. Instead, we’re business owners, entrepreneurs, building our own spiritual enterprises. We own our tefillah. We own our Shabbos. And we’re constantly seeking to grow them, to enhance them, because that’s what entrepreneurs do.

Earlier in this series, we talked about getting out of the “stands” of Judaism and joining the game on the court. Sure, spectators in the stands don’t have much responsibility for the game’s outcome. But they’re also “nobodies.”

Who are the somebodies? Who are the stars of the show? The athletes on the field. They’re carrying mountains of responsibility on their shoulders. But they don’t resent that. They love it. They wouldn’t have it any other way.

Are we ready to start feeling that way about our Judaism?