Joy helps us carry the load

A Texas teacher recently made headlines with an unusual announcement to parents: no more homework. She explained that homework doesn’t significantly improve student performance and should be reserved only for classwork not completed in school. Instead, she wanted her students to use their time at home to be with family, enjoy recreation, and experience life in ways that a classroom can’t offer – bonding with parents; seeing real-life applications of learning; and developing responsibility naturally.

The Torah, too, recognises that life’s greatest lessons often take place outside the formal beit medrash. In this week’s parsha, Re’eh, we find such an example with the mitzvah of ma’aser sheni.

Ma’aser sheni is a tithe that the owner eats, unlike other tithes given to the poor or the Levite. The one condition? It must be eaten in Jerusalem. For a farmer with 10 000 bundles, that meant hauling 1 000 bundles to the holy city – no small task!

The Torah offers a solution:

“And if the road will be too long, because you will not be able to carry it, then you may exchange it for money. Take the money to Jerusalem, and spend it on whatever your heart desires – cattle, flocks, wine, or other food – and eat it there before Hashem, rejoicing with your family.” (Devarim 14:24–26)

By redeeming the produce for money, the owner avoided the logistical headache and could still support the merchants of Jerusalem.

But the wording is curious. Shouldn’t the verse say, “You can’t carry it because the road is too long”? Instead, it says, “The road will be too long because you will not be able to carry it.”

This reversal contains a profound insight.

Rav Moshe Feinstein once met an affluent Jew whose father had emigrated to America before Sabbath protections existed in the workplace. His father, unwavering in Shabbat observance, went from job to job after being told not to return if he wouldn’t work on Saturdays.

Yet the son was no longer observant. Rav Moshe asked why.

The man’s reply was telling, “My father never missed Shabbat. But before each mitzvah, he would sigh, ‘Oy, iz shver tzu zain a frummer Yid’ [It’s hard to be a religious Jew]. After hearing that all my life, I decided I didn’t want the burden.”

The Torah’s phrasing now makes sense: the road feels long because you’ve decided the load is too heavy. When mitzvot are seen as a joy, the journey shortens. When they’re seen as a burden, even a short road feels endless.

Rav Feinstein taught that if we approach mitzvot with a smile and enthusiasm, we don’t just carry them ourselves, we carry them forward for generations.

As we approach Elul, as we prepare for the Yamim Nora’im, let’s take the road with joy and pride, not groans and sighs. That attitude might just make the journey – and the generations – last forever.