Touching Perfection

The Tree of Knowledge and the Messianic Vision

Eve’s Additional Prohibition

When the serpent tried to entice Eve to partake of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, Eve described the prohibition as follows: “You shall not eat of it, and you shall not touch it, lest you die.”

At that point, the serpent pushed her against the tree so that she touched it. When nothing happened to her, the serpent said, in effect: “Just as there is no danger in touching the tree, there is no danger in eating its fruit.”

Rashi, citing the comment of the Talmud, states that because Eve added a prohibition against touching the tree—a prohibition that G-d had not commanded—this ultimately led her to violate the actual prohibition against eating from it.

A question immediately arises. Rashi emphasizes that she added the prohibition against touching the tree. Why, then, would she be persuaded by the serpent’s argument that because touching it was harmless, eating from it must also be harmless?

There is another version of the story according to which only Adam heard G-d’s original command. When he conveyed the command to Eve, he added the prohibition against touching the tree.

But Rashi’s version is different. According to Rashi, Eve herself added the words, “Do not touch it.”

Why, then, did she make this addition?

The Unique Nature of the Tree

The work Toldot Yitzchak, authored by a relative of Rabbi Yosef Karo, the author of the Shulchan Aruch, offers an illuminating answer.

According to this interpretation, Eve understood that the primary prohibition concerned touching the tree, because the tree itself was holy and therefore off-limits. The prohibition against eating its fruit was, in her mind, secondary. She understood the command as applying especially to fruit that might have become detached from the tree, while the tree itself represented an even higher level of sanctity.

This premise can be better understood in light of a fascinating opinion in the Midrash that identifies the Tree of Knowledge with the etrog.

Our Sages point out a unique characteristic of the etrog: unlike other trees, the taste of the wood of the etrog tree resembles the taste of its fruit.

This unusual characteristic contains a profound spiritual message.

When the Means and the End Become One

Rashi tells us that when G-d originally created the trees, He intended that the trees themselves should possess the taste of their fruit. The trees, however, did not fulfill that command.

Obviously, this cannot mean that trees literally rebelled against G-d’s will. Rather, the Midrash is conveying a deeper idea: G-d’s original ideal was that the means and the end should be identical, but the physical world was not yet ready to realize that ideal.

That ideal will ultimately come to fruition in the Messianic Age.

The fact that the means should resemble the end represents a state of perfection. It means that the process of reaching a goal should itself be infused with the spiritual quality of the goal.

In our present material existence, however, there is a sharp distinction between the means and the end.

The Difference Between Means and Ends

A person may sleep for approximately one-third of his life. He must eat, drink, and perform countless other activities necessary for survival. He may work forty or more hours a week. He waits in line, travels, takes care of mundane responsibilities, and performs innumerable tasks that are necessary simply to sustain his existence.

Yet whatever a person considers to be the truly cherished moments of life—the moments for which he does all of the above—occupy only a small minority of his lifetime.

The overwhelming majority of our lives consists of activities that are means to an end.

Only in a state of perfection can a person relish every moment of life, including those moments that presently appear to be merely instrumental.

This is part of the vision of the Messianic Age: the transformation of existence so that the distinction between the means and the end is ultimately transcended.

We already find a miniature example of this principle in the realm of mitzvot.

The Mitzvah of the Means

Consider the mitzvah of dwelling in a sukkah.

The Torah commands us to dwell in a sukkah. Yet the only way to fulfill that mitzvah is to have a sukkah in which to dwell. Building the sukkah is itself a mitzvah.

Thus, the means to the mitzvah becomes a mitzvah in its own right.

Even if there were another route by which one could ultimately reach the desired objective, the process itself can possess independent spiritual significance.

This is an important distinction between the spiritual reality reflected in the Torah and the ordinary experience of the material world. In the mundane world, we generally distinguish sharply between the means and the end. In the ideal spiritual reality, however, the means can already contain something of the end.

When the tree—the means of producing the fruit—and the fruit—the end—possess the same taste, we have a glimpse of the future.

It is a sample of the Messianic condition in which the journey itself will be infused with the character of the destination.

The Etrog as a Model of the Messianic Future

The fact that the etrog tree possessed this Messianic characteristic suggests that G-d wanted there to be at least one model within the existing world of what ultimate perfection would look like.

The etrog tree was therefore a kind of preview of the future.

It demonstrated that it is possible for the means and the end to share the same spiritual character.

This model allows us to recognize the objective toward which the world is progressing.

With this understanding, we can appreciate Eve’s perspective.

Eve’s Understanding of Holiness

In Eve’s mind, the fact that the tree itself possessed the same quality as the fruit meant that the tree was not fundamentally different from the fruit.

The tree itself was therefore part of the sacred reality represented by the fruit.

She understood that the world at large was not yet ready for such G-dly perfection. Humanity had been created to strive toward perfection, rather than to claim and consume it prematurely.

The etrog tree, however, embodied a glimpse of that perfection.

In Eve’s mind, therefore, the primary prohibition was directed against the tree itself.

The tree was unique. It was holy. And holiness, by definition, means being set apart and off-limits for ordinary use.

Thus, when G-d commanded them not to eat from the tree, Eve understood the command in the following way: “Do not even eat its fruit.” If even the fruit was prohibited, then how much more so should the tree itself—the physical embodiment of this extraordinary holiness—be untouchable.

Her addition of the prohibition against touching was therefore not arbitrary. It followed from her understanding of what the prohibition was really about.

The Danger of Claiming Perfection Prematurely

Adam and Eve were created to strive for perfection, not to claim it prematurely and without effort.

This, according to this interpretation, was the deeper meaning of the prohibition against eating from the Tree of Knowledge.

The prohibition was not merely about consuming a particular fruit. It represented a much larger spiritual principle: one must not attempt to internalize an ultimate level of perfection before one has earned it through the necessary process of growth.

And this understanding provides the key to another question raised by the commentators.

Why Did Eve Think Nothing Would Happen?

How could Eve conclude that if nothing happened when she touched the tree, nothing would happen if she ate its fruit?

After all, G-d had told them that on the day they ate from the tree they would die. She still had an entire day in which the consequences of her action could potentially manifest themselves.

The answer can be understood on the basis of the Zohar’s usage of the concept of death as a metaphor for spiritual decline. Death does not necessarily mean physical death. It can refer to a diminution or loss of spiritual vitality.

Eve therefore understood that if the tree was genuinely holy and merely touching it was dangerous, she should have experienced some spiritual decline when she touched it.

But nothing happened. She therefore concluded that the tree itself was not inherently dangerous.

If touching it had caused no spiritual deterioration, perhaps eating its fruit would likewise cause no harm.

That was where the serpent’s argument gained its force.

Where Did Eve Go Wrong?

But where exactly was the mistake?

Why was there no prohibition against touching the tree?

The answer takes us to the heart of the philosophy of spiritual growth.

Discovering the treasure of perfection must come through effort.

One cannot simply consume perfection without striving toward it.

If one acquires something without effort, it resembles what the Sages call “nahama d’chisufa”—“the bread of shame.”

A person who receives food as a beggar, without having earned it, may be physically nourished, but there is a fundamental deficiency in the experience. He did not earn what he received.

The same principle applies spiritually.

True perfection requires effort because otherwise it is not fully one’s own.

Why One Cannot Simply “Consume” Perfection

This applies particularly to eating, which is a metaphor for internalization.

When we eat something, it becomes part of us. We do not merely encounter it externally; we absorb it and transform it into our own substance.

One cannot genuinely internalize something without effort for at least two reasons.

First, something acquired effortlessly will not necessarily be fully appreciated. The very process of striving creates appreciation.

Second, by definition, internalizing something means that it becomes yours.

If you simply consume an ultimate spiritual treasure without having worked for it, it was not truly acquired by you. It was merely given to you.

That cannot constitute the ultimate state of perfection.

But Touching Is Different from Eating

Here, however, we discover the crucial distinction between touching and eating.

There is nothing inherently wrong with having a superficial encounter with perfection.

On the contrary, a person must sometimes be allowed to touch perfection precisely so that he can develop an appetite for it.

A glimpse of the destination can inspire a person to undertake the difficult journey toward it.

Touching perfection can therefore be constructive. Consuming perfection prematurely is not.

Touching gives us inspiration. Eating represents internalization.

The first can motivate the second; the second cannot be achieved properly without the necessary preparation.

The Chassidic Application

This distinction provides an important insight into the philosophy of the Rebbes of Chabad Chassidut.

There was an internal debate among the disciples of Rabbi Dov Ber, the Maggid of Mezritch and successor to the Baal Shem Tov, concerning the extent to which the mystical teachings of Chassidut should be disseminated.

Many of the great Chassidic masters were hesitant about teaching these esoteric teachings to the masses.

Their position was that the spiritual inspiration and growth provided by Chassidut could be attained through the attachment of Chassidim to their Rebbes. A person could develop a deeper love and reverence for G-d by cleaving to a Rebbe who embodied these teachings, without necessarily delving deeply into the teachings themselves. Attachment to a Rebbe could itself bring a person to higher spiritual levels, even without requiring him to personally struggle with the profound intellectual and mystical teachings.

Touching the Teachings of Moshiach

This debate can be understood through the metaphor of touching and eating.

In earlier generations, when humanity was still distant from the Messianic goal, the esoteric teachings of Chassidut—which contain a sample of the spiritual revelations destined to be revealed in the Messianic Age—were primarily the province of a select group of spiritual elites.

The masses could touch these teachings through their attachment to their Rebbes.

They could experience the inspiration and spiritual elevation that came from being connected to a Rebbe who embodied these teachings.

But they did not necessarily consume them.

They did not necessarily study, analyze, and internalize the mystical concepts themselves.

Some of the great Chassidic masters therefore felt that widespread dissemination of these teachings would be premature.

The world was not yet ready to consume the spiritual revelation itself.

The Chabad Approach: From Touching to Internalizing

The leaders of Chabad, however, adopted a different approach.

Attachment to a Rebbe is enormously important, but it is comparable to touching the goal.

Touching the goal gives us a taste of what is possible. It awakens our spiritual appetite and inspires us to advance to the next stage.

But ultimately, there must be a process of consuming and internalizing the teachings through one’s own intellectual and spiritual effort.

This is one of the distinctive features of the Chabad approach.

The word Chabad itself refers to Chochmah, Binah, and Da’at—wisdom, understanding, and knowledge.

The goal is not merely to experience inspiration from a spiritual personality. It is to engage the teachings intellectually, to understand them, contemplate them, and ultimately allow them to transform one’s inner life.

The Chabad leaders believed that we had reached a point in history when humanity was standing on the cusp of the Messianic Age.

Therefore, it was no longer sufficient merely to touch these teachings. We could—and should—begin to consume them.

We could study them, contemplate them, internalize them, and allow their ideas to become part of our own consciousness.

The Changing Spiritual Landscape

Although the early Chassidic masters were understandably hesitant about allowing the widespread consumption of these mystical teachings, the circumstances of the world have changed.

The teachings of Chassidut have become increasingly widespread and accessible.

What was once the province of a select few is now available to the masses.

This development is not merely an expansion of religious education. It reflects a profound transformation in the spiritual condition of the world.

We are moving from an era in which humanity could only touch the revelation of the future to an era in which we are increasingly capable of internalizing it.

The ultimate goal is the realization of the original Divine intention: a world in which the means and the end, the tree and the fruit, are no longer fundamentally separate.

The etrog tree gave us a glimpse of that reality at the very beginning of history.

Chassidut gives us another glimpse of it today.

And the dissemination and internalization of the teachings of Chassidut prepare us for the time when the entire world will experience the Divine perfection that these teachings reveal.