I hope my readers will forgive me. On Lag Ba’omer, I boruch Hashem participated in four weddings, then two more before Shabbos. No complaints, chas veshalom. Simchos are great. But I am a bit obsessed with chasunos right now, so let’s explore the famous Shavuos–chasunah analogy.

The Gemara (Eruvin 54a) famously states that “this world that we must someday leave is like a wedding. Grab and eat, grab and drink.” As we all know, Chazal meant that this world passes quickly and we must seize every possible mitzvah and moment of learning.

The Chofetz Chaim elaborated: “This world is like a chasunah hall. Every day there is a different wedding. One day this group is dancing, the next day another. The dancers from the night before are gone. Others have taken their place. While you are there, snatch what you can.”

The Chofetz Chaim doesn’t need my emendations. However, after last week, I would humbly add as follows. Sometimes we see some of the same people. They may have danced more energetically at the last wedding; they may have spent longer in the middle circle. Perhaps here they were closer relatives or friends; perhaps at the other they were just peripheral. For myself, once I was from the chosson’s side, once from the kallah. We must know our place and recognize our role wherever we go. The common denominator is that we should try to bring joy wherever we go and contribute to the event.

The Steipler Gaon added an important factor to the metaphor. He noted that at the table, there is no need to struggle for food. The waiters attend to the guests, making sure that they receive their desired portion. But at one end of the hall, there is a bar. Leaving aside all other considerations, here it is self-service (at least some places). If you don’t take something for yourself, you end up thirsty and unhappy. This world, too, he concluded, is self-service. We must get up and take what we require. Chatof ve’echol, chatof ve’ishti.

We can now add that when we were young, our parents fed us and made sure we absorbed what we needed. Later, to change metaphors, our teachers fill us with knowledge, wisdom and good thoughts. Later, when we reach maturity, we are expected to forage for ourselves. While we may watch many people at these wonderful affairs, when we get home, we must attend to ourselves. Often, after a vacation or Pesach in a hotel, the children look around on the first morning home, asking, “Where’s the waiter? Isn’t there a tea room?” The answer is, “No. Go get it yourself.” That is the message of the Gemara and the reminder of Shavuos. We must chap every opportunity to learn Torah and do mitzvos, for the clock is ticking loudly and rapidly.

Rav Reuven Karelenstein adds a pithy point to the wedding scenario. The wedding preparations take months. There are many things to accomplish. A date must be set, housing obtained, a menu formulated, the band, flowers and music must be chosen, photographers must be hired, kibbudim shared and decided upon. But on the great day, if there is no ring, there is no marriage. Even if the chosson carefully said, “Harei at mekudeshes,” but forgot the crucial “li,” they are not married. It was all for naught. That is the moshol, but the nimshol is poignant and distressing. If we come into the world and forget our purpose; if we strive, spend, run, jump and avoid why we were placed here, it was a tragic waste of energy, potential and incredible resources lost forever.

The Medrash (Tanchuma, beginning of Chukas) tells the story of someone who was traveling from Eretz Yisrael to Bavel. He witnessed the strange sight of two birds fighting with each other, to the point that one actually killed the other. However, the winner quickly flew and returned with a certain herb. He placed it upon the dead bird, bringing it back to life. Our traveler thereupon seized the magic blade of grass and began bringing the dead back to life. He spotted a dead lion, used his new device and brought it back with a roar. Unfortunately, the lion promptly ate him. The Medrash concludes that the man was a fool. If you are given the power to resurrect the dead, don’t use it to commit suicide yourself.

Chazal (Tomid 32a) ask, “What should a person do to live? He should kill himself.” Of course, this doesn’t mean literally. It does mean that we should use all our energies, resources, wherewithal, talents and gifts to serve Hashem and accept the Torah unconditionally. One of the reasons Hashem picked up the mountain, holding it above us, was to instill yiras Shomayim in us. In fact, meforshim (see Oheiv Yisroel, Parshas Shekalim) teach that fear of Hashem is only completely instilled in a person when he is moser nefesh for Torah or a mitzvah. Rav Elimelech Biderman (Be’er Hachaim, Shavuos, page 442) cites stories and peirushim proving that this includes a small act or even thought of yiras Shomayim.

One example is from the Sheim M’Shmuel (Naso 5674). He states that if someone undertakes to become a nozir, he is immediately forbidden to become tomei, even for the seven closest relatives to whom a Kohein may and indeed must make himself tomei. This shows us that even the tiny moment when a person makes a vow or other commitment, he is filled with a higher kedusha even than a Kohein. This shows us that if we accomplish something difficult, even for a moment, we have justified our stay here on earth.

Rav Meilech goes on to demonstrate that being moser nefesh for Hashem’s Torah and mitzvos brings one the miracles he may need. The Mishnah (Avos 5:5) relates that one of the miracles in the Bais Hamikdosh was that the Bais Hamikdosh was totally full and cramped with people who had come to fulfill the mitzvah of visiting there on Yom Tov. The neis was that although they could barely fit when they were standing near each other, when they prostrated themselves, there was still room for all. Rav Meilech explains that the neis only happened because people were willing to stand in cramped quarters, being moser nefesh for the mitzvah.

It is well known that Rav Elazar Menachem Man Shach was of the opinion that Shavuos is the Yom Hadin for Torah. He derived this from his uncle Rav Isser Zalman Meltzer’s reading of a Ran, but he treated the statement literally. To the rosh yeshiva, on Shavuos it is decided if we would succeed in our Torah studies that year and to what extent. It is interesting to recall that Rabbi Shlomo Lorencz, longtime member of the Knesset and confident of many gedolei Yisroel, floated an idea to the Chazon Ish about the yeshiva world. He wanted to differentiate between two types of yeshivos. One would be for the brightest, most excellent of students and the other for those with limited capabilities. He felt that this would allow for the future leaders of Torah to grow in an atmosphere conducive to their talents and the others, too, would gain without facing challenges too difficult for them.

The Chazon Ish was adamantly opposed to such an arrangement. He explained that we never know who will emerge as those future leaders. It could be that through mesirus nefesh and diligence, an apparently limited talmid would rapidly grow into the gadol we would later revere and seek for guidance. As we now know, the Netziv of Volozhin was one such initially weak talmid, as was Rav Pesach Pruskin, the rebbi of none other than the posek hador, Rav Moshe Feinstein. Not only do we never know, but Mattan Torah was for everyone, because we are all invited to the wedding. Yes, sometimes we have to get up and feed ourselves — Torah and middos — but if we make the effort, we will own the Kabbolas HaTorah and can grow beyond what anyone, including ourselves, thought was possible. May we all have a successful and productive Shavuos, growing by leaps and bounds at the most beautiful wedding of all.