The first paragraph of the Shema, “You shall love the Lord your G-d with all your heart…” is among the best known prayers in Judaism. It is also a perfect example of the way prayer, like poetry, is incredibly succinct. In just a few words, prayer can express the most expansive of concepts.
Without getting into the difficult question of what it means to love—cherish? obey? show loyalty?—we can see in this short paragraph an essay on how extensive, indeed, extreme, this love, whatever it is, is supposed to be.
“You shall love…with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your might.” This is love on the most personal level, covering (in the original biblical meaning of the words) your thoughts and emotions (heart), your body and soul (nefesh), and your physical strength (might).
“You shall teach them to your children” This is a love that is consciously and intrinsically multigenerational.
“You shall speak of them when you sit at home and when you walk about, when you lie down and when you stand up.” This is a love that dominates your time and space—all time and all space. [Think “Anytime, anywhere, I’ll be there”—for Torah, not wrestling].
And finally, “You shall bind them as a sign upon your hands….and upon your gates.” This is a love that is not just conceptual or abstract. It’s not just an idea in your mind, a proposition you accept. It must be manifest in concrete ways both as reminders to you and as a sign for others. It is personal and societal.
In sum: a love that permeates every aspect of your being, that permeates time (present and future) and space, that is both abstract and concrete, personal and collective.
All outlined in 42 words.
Would that rabbis could write sermons that way.