At the very beginning of our Shabbat morning services, our prayers turn in an unexpected direction: “Ma tovu—How goodly are your tents, O Jacob, your dwelling places, O Israel.”
Why do we start there, talking about people? Why aren’t we talking about G-d? The prayer does indeed continue in a divine direction: “through Your abundant kindness I will enter Your house, I will bow before Your holy sanctuary in awe of You.”
So why doesn’t the prayer start that way? Why does the prayer go out of its way to begin with people, before turning to Hashem?
The great kabbalistic work Reshit Chochmah explains, “When a person leaves this world, he is asked ‘Did you accept the sovereignty of G-d every morning and evening [through saying the Sh’ma]? Did you conduct yourself in a noble and pleasant manner toward your fellow man?’”
Isn’t this combination of questions absolutely remarkable? We shouldn’t be surprised by the first question; and the second question is at the very least understandable. But putting them both together? Implying that they are somehow on the same level?! That is amazing.
In Talmudic terms, the two principles together form a “tzrichuta”—a combination where both principles are necessary to avoid confusion. If you only had the first, concerning the sovereignty of G-d, you might think that you could focus on G-d and ignore the concerns of human beings. Therefore, you need the second, humanity centered, question. And if you only had the second question, concerning respect for human beings, you might think that such respect for humanity was all that was necessary, and therefore you didn’t need focus your attention on G-d. Hence the importance of the first clause, drawing our attention back to G-d.
Such complex interactions are intrinsic to what it means to be a Jew. After all, we are Israel__”Those who wrestle with G-d and man.”