Rashi interprets the word tzivisani, You commanded me, to Mah she’gazarta aleinu; “What You decreed on us.” Noticeably, a difference exists between a tzivui, command, and a gezeirah, decree. A gezeriah is more forceful, definitive—no ifs, ands, or buts. The Kotzker Rebbe, z”l, makes note of this change in translation. He explains that no more demanding decree exists than to command a Jew to declare, “I did everything that You asked me to do. I carried out Your command to perfection. I had all the correct and proper intentions and did everything purely for Your sake.” This is an overly tall order for a Jew. Who can say that he merited to perform even one mitzvah to perfection? Thus, the Rebbe explains, Rashi added a caveat: “’I did everything as You decreed’- I am stating, ‘I did everything that You commanded me,’ because You decreed that I say so.” Who can say he did it all?
Hashem’s standard and our abilities do not really align. Hashem is the essence of perfection. We are human beings. Can we ever satisfy Hashem? Yes! Hashem asks for our hearts—not perfection, but sincerity. He wants us to try, to strive, to stumble and then get up, brush ourselves off and continue the journey. Hashem neither wants robots, nor does He want our manner of servitude to be robotic. He wants us to keep getting up, to strive, to grow, to elevate. He wants us to cleave to Him, to establish a relationship which includes only Hashem and us. It is all about the journey—not the destination. If one has no destination, however, if he has no purpose and goals, then the journey is not a journey, but chaotic, aimless wandering. Indeed, it is far better to struggle on the road to greatness than to settle for mediocrity.
To be a Jew means to strive for growth and perfection, knowing that it is a difficult, ‘almost impossible’ goal. Yet, we continue on the journey. When we fall short, we try again. When we feel distant, we reach out for Hashem’s help. We never stop trying, because trying is an important ingredient in a relationship.
