Moving With Astonishing Speed

Insects churn their legs with astonishing speed. Their unique respiratory system delivers oxygen to their limbs efficiently, allowing them to move quickly. They are also very well coordinated, allowing them to alternate between swinging their legs and standing still. Yet, they barely make headway. Aunts must take hundreds of steps to traverse the distance a human can cover in a single step.[1]

The Exodus and The Insect

Judaism’s dietary laws generally forbid insects. Beetles, spiders, and centipedes are unlikely to appear on the menu at a Kosher event. The same is true of many forms of meat and fish, yet the rabbinic tradition spotlights the prohibition of insects.

The Torah states, “Do not make yourself loathsome by [eating] insects that crawl on the ground . . . for I am G-d your G-d who lifted you from Egypt” (Leviticus 11:43:45). Our sages wondered why the Exodus is mentioned specifically in response to avoiding insects. After all, there are many other prohibitions in the Torah; why does this Mitzvah merit such special mention?

The Talmud explains that this is G-d’s way of saying that had He taken us from Egypt so we would avoid insects, it would have been enough for Him. (Baba Metzia 61b)

G-d did not say this about any other Mitzvah. It would not have been enough if G-d had taken us out of Egypt so we would keep Shabbat, give to charity, wear tzitzit, or be honest in business. It would only have been enough if we used our freedom to avoid eating insects. Why is eating insects so terrible that if we only keep this one Mitzvah, it is enough to justify G-d lifting us out of Egypt?

Life in The Fast Lane

We mentioned at the outset that insects move their legs with astonishing speed but move at an agonizingly slow pace. Their legs are so tiny that no matter how fast they churn them, they can’t keep up with us. G-d likely enabled them to move their legs quickly and proficiently to compensate for those tiny legs. Imagine how slow they would be if they walked at our pace.

Every Mitzvah has two dimensions: the physical dimension—the action we take or avoid taking—and the spiritual dimension—the efforts we invest in character improvement. Each Mitzvah represents a unique area of character improvement.

The tiny size of an insect symbolizes a person of low spiritual stature: an egotistical fellow driven by greed, anger, avarice, or lust, a hedonistic person constantly chasing his next pleasurable experience, a lackadaisical, blasé, and indifferent person who can’t muster the strength to pray, study, or do a Mitzvah.

The Torah tells us that ingesting an insect is forbidden. Indulging in behaviors of low spiritual stature is not fitting for a Jew. A Jew must be energetic, driven, uplifted, motivated, humble, and committed. A Jew may not ingest an insect, let alone many insects.

Yet, we are often subject to mood swings that are out of our control. Sometimes, we wake up unmotivated and introverted, angry and depressed, or tempted by greed or lust. What should we do when these moods strike? Should we wait patiently until they pass?

The answer is a resounding no. As G-d provided insects with the ability to move their tiny legs quickly, so did He endow us with the capacity to churn hard and escape our spiritual funks. When our spiritual stature shrinks to insect-like proportions, we must churn with every fiber of our being to break away from these moods. Initially, we won’t make much headway like an insect that rushes with all its strength but moves slowly. However, if we keep it up, we will gradually make more and more progress until we transition back to our usual state. Then, we are no longer an insect.

In other words, when you encounter an insect-like mood, don’t embrace it and wait patiently for it to pass. Such moods are on the blacklist; avoid them like the plague. Run for your life. You might not outrun these moods initially, but you are guaranteed to break away if you persevere. You will escape the insect.

When We Don’t See Progress

There is another aspect: Sometimes, we feel like we are chasing our tails; no matter how hard we work or how much effort we invest, we don’t seem to get ahead. We work from sunup to sundown without letup. We are energetic and give it our all, yet we seem to come up short every day.

We can’t give up. Like an insect, we must keep churning. If our measure of success is unreasonable for our current state, we will feel like we failed when we don’t reach our benchmark. If we learn to calibrate our expectations to our realistic abilities, we will develop shorter benchmarks and will reach them.

With time, we will grow stronger and faster and be able to expand our benchmarks and reach those, too. As our proverbial legs—our emotional capacity—grow, our speed and rate of progress will increase.

The Journey’s Beginning

Sometimes, when it does, we feel like we have stalled again: Rabbi Yisrael of Koznitz once dreamed that he asked the holy Baal Shem Tov a worrisome question. “When I first began my spiritual journey, I felt myself improving daily in altruistic Torah study, mindful prayer, and Mitzvah observance. Now, I don’t feel the progress; each day seems the same as yesterday.”

The Baal Shem Tov explained that in the beginning, he was like a child learning to read. Every day, the child absorbs more letters and seems to make huge strides daily. Yesterday, the child read one page; today, two pages. Yesterday, one chapter; today, two chapters. However, full-fledged adults seem to be at the same pace every day; they don’t seem to progress. Yet, the adult learns much more in a day than a child can learn in a week.

The same is true for all of us. When we fall into a spiritual funk and churn hard to break free, we can feel the transition. When we break away successfully and return to our daily routine, each day seems like yesterday. But in truth, we make huge strides. Because we churned hard in our funk, we progressed to the point of making huge strides daily without even noticing it.

Just For This

This explains why G-d says that it would have been enough if He had taken us from Egypt to avoid insects. This Mitzvah is a stopgap against sliding down the slippery slope that drags us further astray. It is like a net that catches us at the beginning of our fall and lifts us back up.

(It also explains why the Torah uses the phrase “lifted” you from Egypt rather than “took” you from Egypt. It implies that this Mitzvah will lift us out of our morose and unproductive states and make us progressively stronger and better.)

Being in the clutches of these negative moods and traits can be compared to imprisonment. Breaking free of these moods can be compared to an Exodus. Thus, G-d says, if I had lifted you from the clutches of Egypt so that you could do this one Mitzvah—lift yourself from negative spirals—it is enough. You are already on a path guaranteed to lead you to a better and more productive place.[2]

[1] It is fascinating that these two aspects are implied by their name. Sheretz, Hebrew for insect, can be read as sheratz—it runs. Rachash, the Aramaic translation, means soft, slow (creeping crawling) steps.

[2] This essay is based on a teaching by Rabbi Yisrael of Koznitz, Avoda