By nature, I’m a delegator. To quote John C. Maxwell, “If you want to do a few small things right, do them yourself. If you want to do great things and make a big impact, learn to delegate.”

I view homemaking as a project where we’re doing great things and making a big impact. Hence, I share responsibility and pass out orders like a general.

“Yitzi, pass me the diaper wipes.”

“Shoshi, the baby’s crying.”

“Avi, please take out the garbage.”

My children have picked up on this successful system, and they too have passed on the delegation torch. Avi tells Yitzi to take out the garbage, and Yitzi tells Shloime to get his own diaper wipes! But the system works; somehow everything gets done, and I’m not the one doing it all.

From here, we learn a fundamental lesson about mitzvos. They’re not abstract concepts; in every single mitzvah there’s a level of physical action required.

Even mitzvos that by nature are matters of the heart, like emunah and loving and fearing Hashem, are still bound by tangible activities. 

We have two sets of mitzvos: mitzvos aseh — mitzvos that require us to act and mitzvos lo saaseh — mitzvos that require us to refrain from acting, but they both deal with aseh — action.

Now we can understand that the above gemara is defining the specific deeds that comprise the mitzvos of honoring and fearing one’s parents.

One of the hardest parts of moving to Eretz Yisrael was leaving my parents behind. It was five years before they came to visit for the first time. I was beyond excited, planning elaborate meals, preparing their accommodations, and looking forward to showering them with attention, care, and best of all, nachas from the children. I glowed when they arrived in my small kingdom and basked in their presence.

But as the days stretched into a couple of weeks, I noticed some stress that kept intruding into my enjoyment.

For my parents, I couldn’t or wouldn’t delegate. They were only visiting for a few weeks, and I was determined to honor them to the best of my ability.

But that meant I was the one jumping up constantly to get ice cubes, tissues, a sweater, or a drink. It was I who served an extra piece of chicken and who made up their beds with fresh linen for Shabbos. I didn’t want to pass on the job, but it wasn’t so easy being the sole provider of services.

Yet when the visit was over, I was left with the feeling of accomplishment knowing it was my hands, my feet, and my care that had added to their comfort.

This is similar to the gemara (Shabbos 31a) that discusses what Hillel answered the gentile who wanted to learn the whole Torah on one foot. Hillel replied, “ ’What you don’t like, don’t do to your friend.’ This is the whole Torah.”

Why didn’t Hillel answer him with the actual words of the Torah in Vayikra (19:18), “Love your friend as yourself,” which is the same idea?

If Hillel had said, “Love your friend as yourself,” it would’ve seemed that the Torah is based just on emotions and not on actions. By describing this mitzvah in terms of an action, he was explaining to the gentile that all mitzvos must be actualized. 

A friend of mine recently sat shivah for her mother only two brief years after losing her father. We met in the supermarket a week before I planned to travel to the States to visit my mother.

“If I only had the chance again to do for my parents,” she said with a wistful sigh. “I’d give anything to be in that position again.”

At home, I’m not the one throwing out the trash, nor do I go crawling under furniture to plug in a stray cord. But when it comes to my mother, there’s no delegating on my part. And that’s a great thing that makes a big impact.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 641)