Are Only the Wisest Worth Creating the World For?

Sigal asks: "If Hashem created the world for the greatest scholars and righteous individuals, what value do the ordinary, good Jews hold, those who haven't achieved great wisdom or deep Torah understanding? Was the world created just for the most learned?"

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Hello Sigal, and thank you for your question.

Every Jew possesses a very lofty soul, capable of achieving a unique correction in creation that no other person can fulfill. Our sages have said: "Each individual must say, 'The world was created for me.'" (Sanhedrin 4:5). They said "each individual," not just those who are great in wisdom and piety.

Judaism teaches us that the scholar isn't always the most favored person in Hashem's eyes. Hence, in dangerous situations, the law dictates that a Torah scholar should sacrifice himself rather than save his life at the expense of another's. This isn't just an opinion but a practical law, with great consequences, especially during the Holocaust, when many great scholars chose not to save themselves at the cost of simpler Jews willing to exchange places with them.

The Talmud states explicitly: "Why do you think your blood is redder than your fellow? Perhaps his blood is redder." (Pesachim 25b) Rashi explains: "Who says your soul is more favored by the Creator than this one? Perhaps this other's is more beloved."

Stories tell of great sages who, when asking about their partners in Paradise, received dreams revealing lowly professions such as a tanner or a butcher, and upon investigation, uncovered that these "simple" Jews excelled in a particular mitzvah, such as honoring their parents with exceptional dedication or rescuing Jewish girls, and so forth.

Respected by none less than Rabbi Elazar ben Durdaya, despite a lifetime of sin, he is referred to as "Rabbi" after securing his world in a single moment with sincere repentance: "He placed his head between his knees, cried until his soul departed." (Avodah Zarah 17a). Throughout generations, many "simple" people sacrificed their lives out of devotion to sanctify Hashem's name.

Why was Moses chosen to lead the Jewish People? Was it because he was the greatest philosopher? Our sages narrate:

"When Moses, peace be upon him, was shepherding Jethro’s sheep, a lamb ran away. Moses chased it until the lamb reached a spring and began to drink. When Moses arrived, he said: 'I did not know you ran away because you were thirsty. Now you are tired.' He carried the lamb on his shoulders and walked back. Hashem said: 'If you have mercy to lead the sheep of flesh and blood, you shall lead My sheep, Israel.'" (Shemot Rabbah, chapter 2). In Torah, Hashem testifies to Moses' great quality: "And the man, Moses, was very humble, more than any person on the face of the earth." (Numbers 12:3).

And why was King David chosen? It's taught (there): "'Hashem tests the righteous' - how does Hashem test the righteous? With the shepherding of sheep. He tested David with sheep and found him exemplary, as it says, 'He took him from the sheepfolds.' He would guide each sheep according to its strength, elder sheep grazing first, then intermediates, and finally the robust, as he wanted them and broke them

light grass. Hashem said: 'He who knows to lead sheep according to their strength shall lead my people.'"

Thus, we learn that wisdom is given by Hashem to the most righteous as a gift and talent to lead His people justly and mercifully.

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The righteous scholar is meant to lead others and certainly does not feel superior to them. It's stated for the king of Israel, not to become haughty over his people: "so that he will not turn away from the commandments, neither to the right nor to the left" (Deuteronomy 17:20). The Torah teaches that the public isn't intended to serve the king; rather, the people crown a king to serve them: "When you come to the land the Lord your God is giving you, and you possess it and live in it, and you say: 'I will set a king over me like all the nations around me,’ you shall surely set a king over you, whom Hashem your God chooses from among your brothers." (Deuteronomy 17:14).

The righteous scholar realizes the significant role and heavy responsibility given to him to guide Hashem’s people like a shepherd. What's the purpose of a mouth, if not to speak with? And why was wisdom given to a scholar, if not to teach the many from his wisdom? Why did Moses receive the Torah from Sinai if not to teach the Children of Israel and sanctify them?

The scholar and the public share a common purpose in creation. We will expand on this answer, God willing, in the next section.

A Body Without a Head and a Head Without a Body

That a sage isn’t meant to live alone signifies the ultimate purpose and importance of the entire community. Indeed, many righteous people have suffered and sacrificed for the masses because they accepted the role of saving and aiding all of Israel.

Moses Rabbeinu was a singular figure across generations, and there’s no doubt his life would have been easier had he lived only in study. But instead, he was required to teach Torah to Israel, lead them in a wilderness journey, guide them in military strategies, and handle public matters; likewise Joshua ben Nun, the prophet Samuel, and Jonah the prophet, all prophets of Israel were tasked with guiding and supporting the people throughout their lives. The great significance of this role led to criticism of Noah: "Noah saved only himself, but Moses saved both himself and his generation. Thus, you have surpassed them all." (Midrash Devarim, chapter 11, 3).

One might picture the scholar and the masses as a single organism—the scholar is the head, with eyes to guide all members with insight. However, the limbs are an inseparable part of his body; without them, the head accomplishes nothing in the world. The sage is born to lead, and the nation to walk in his light. Together, they are one. No servants or subordinates exist in this scenario, just distinct parts creating a complete whole: "And you shall be unto Me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation" (Exodus 19:6). Israel presents as a single entity before Hashem, and this shows that "it refers just to 'a man of his own guilt' but from this we learn that all Israel are responsible for one another." (Sanhedrin 27b).

Reality is not black and white; rather, it's a state encompassing many colors, forming one picture that would be incomplete if any hue were missing.

Even if one claims the brain is more vital than the heart due to its bodily role, no one suggests the brain doesn’t need the heart or claims the heart is inferior, since everyone knows the heart sustains the body and performs what the brain alone cannot. Similarly, when saying the righteous scholar is of paramount importance due to his role in this world, it's not to declare he doesn’t need other creations, nor that other creations are insignificant. Both need each other, achieving together what neither could alone.

Thus, you're taught that while the sage acquired a great role, other roles in creation are not void before his.

The expression "Who is created for whom?" would be erroneous, for we are all distinct parts forming a whole, devotedly serving Hashem together as one.

This is evident from the angels, undoubtedly more elevated in spiritual rank than humans, yet Hashem made them messengers to His prophets. Despite the angels' high spiritual status, mankind possesses a trait they lack: free will to choose between good and evil. People address and correct in creation what angels cannot: "The Torah wasn’t given to the ministering angels." (Kiddushin 54a).

For this reason, a righteous person can reach a higher status than an angel, and a Torah scholar can attain a higher level than the High Priest: "I call upon heaven and earth as my witnesses, whether it's a Jew or a non-Jew, man or woman, servant or maidservant—the Holy Spirit rests upon each according to his deeds." (Tanna Devei Eliyahu, chapter 9).

Therefore, we cannot declare whose blood is deemed redder, as a heart or kidney diligently fulfilling its role is surely more beloved than a brain neglecting its purpose. We don't know who fulfills their divine role more faithfully before the Creator, for only: "Hashem of hosts examines the righteous, tests the inward parts and the heart" (Jeremiah 20:12), "I Hashem search the heart, examine the mind, to reward each according to his ways, according to the fruit of his deeds." (Jeremiah 17:10).

The righteous sage recognizes his mission, which is a mission for the people, and never looks down on them, for among them may be individuals with commendations in trials and corrections beyond his reach and role. Yet, together with them, he achieves his spiritual completion, and they with him.

Just like a brain detached from the body is useless, so a sage aloof from helping others renders himself ineffectual—his wisdom as useful as a dead brain attached to a living body. A true sage sees himself as a servant to the masses, needing them just as much as they need him. Together, they form a single, complete entity—mirroring the unity of man and woman as one individual. This underlies the loftiest level of Jewish love. A sage understands his talents and role are meant for the common goal of serving Hashem together with one heart, the small alongside the great, and from this mindset he becomes a humble and holy leader for the people of Hashem.