The malachim themselves are exalted with the middah of zerizus—alacrity. As the Ramchal writes in Mesilas Yesharim (Chapter 6): “Behold, the malachim were praised for this praiseworthy middah, as it is said of them: גיבורי כח עושי דברו לשמוע בקול דברו — ‘Mighty in strength, who do His bidding, to hearken to the voice of His word.’”
This pasuk is famously the very foundation of na’aseh v’nishma, the declaration by which Klal Yisrael merited unparalleled distinction at Har Sinai. By citing it in his treatment of zerizus, the Ramchal reveals that the profound spiritual stature of na’aseh v’nishma is rooted fundamentally in this middah. He further explains (Chapter 7) that “after the hisla’havus—enthusiasm—aroused by external actions, an inner hisla’havus follows in its wake.” We must therefore consider the precise relationship between outward actions and the inner awakening they engender.
The Master Craftsman and the Amateur
Certain artisans achieve excellence through slow, deliberate precision. The watchmaker, for instance, handles a delicate miniature mechanism with the utmost care, every movement measured and restrained; the slightest deviation could ruin the entire piece. Likewise, a sofer stam executes his sacred task with profound concentration and unhurried focus, producing writing that is truly mehudar.
Yet how can such deliberate craftsmen embody zerizus? Their approach appears to be the very opposite of haste.
The answer lies in the distinction between the master craftsman and the amateur. When faced with a task, the amateur dives in immediately, performing one action after another—some erroneous, others corrective—until the work is somehow completed. The master, by contrast, begins with thorough preparation: evaluating the materials, taking precise measurements, and selecting the appropriate tools. Only then does he act, and with a single, exact motion he accomplishes his aim.
Which of the two is truly zariz? Clearly the master. He reaches the goal more swiftly and flawlessly, yet with far fewer actions overall. The amateur fixates solely on the end result and rushes toward it, generating a flurry of hasty, often flawed efforts. The master, however, accords genuine importance to the preparatory stages—the assessment, the measurement, the careful selection. These are not mere preliminaries; they are integral to the process. As a result, the outcome flows naturally from one brief, accurate act.
Zerizus, therefore, does not signify mere speed. It means assigning proper weight and significance to each element encountered along the path—recognizing that every act, even before any outcome is apparent, carries intrinsic importance.
The Outer Act Awakens the Inner Fire
This is precisely what the Ramchal intends when he speaks of external actions awakening inner enthusiasm. Those external actions are “the things along the way,” and only when we invest them with real significance do they penetrate to the inner realm, the true tachlis.
Every detail of avodas Hashem transcends our understanding. The same holds true in Torah learning: we must approach each particular—with its nuances and intricacies—with attentiveness and respect, even when the deeper meaning remains hidden. Only through such investment do we eventually attain insight that was initially beyond reach. In spiritual pursuits, as in the physical realm, neglecting the significance of individual details prevents the proper construction of the whole edifice.
The malachim are not privy to the ultimate plan or final purpose. For this very reason, they are praised specifically for their doing—for acting faithfully without grasping the full meaning of the outcome: גיבורי כח עושי דברו לשמוע בקול דברו. The act itself is primary; only afterward does understanding emerge—that is lishmoa b’kol devaro.
Herein lies the secret of Klal Yisrael’s na’aseh v’nishma. They commit to fulfilling every detail even before comprehending its ultimate purpose. Their zerizus lies in according importance to the act and to the tzivuy itself—even when they do not fully understand what the result will be. Their understanding is that the result reveals itself, and is built, only when one relates properly to the actions encountered along the way.
Bein Adam LaMakom, Bein Adam LaChaveiro—and the Gift of Being Surprised
This same zerizus formed the cornerstone of Klal Yisrael’s emergence as a nation during Yetzias Mitzrayim. They received the intricate commands of the Korban Pesach and the placing of blood on the doorposts—and fulfilled them meticulously, in full accordance with halachah. They had no foreknowledge of what these acts would yield: the “wings of eagles,” the pillar of fire, the splitting of the Yam Suf. Their strength lay in complete surrender to the mitzvah itself.
Even when they were promised a revelation of Hashem and direct communication from Heaven, they could not have known or imagined the form that revelation would take. Yet they performed the commanded actions—the very pathway to perfection and divine encounter.
This principle extends equally to mitzvos bein adam lachaveiro. One must perform chessed out of genuine responsiveness to another’s need, without ulterior agenda or calculation. When a friend is burdened, we lighten the load—not while speculating how the help will be received or utilized. Such reckoning breeds only disappointment or self-congratulation. The authentic Jewish approach is עושי דברו לשמוע בקול דברו—acting with fidelity to the moment.
When we grant proper weight to actions independent of anticipated results, we open ourselves to genuine surprise. The actions are not derived from the anticipated result, with everything known in advance; rather, the result flows from the actions themselves and therefore retains an element of the unexpected. In interpersonal relationships, this fosters a renewed, authentic encounter with the other person.
The capacity for surprise lies at the heart of Torah. Torah is the sha’ashu’im—the delight—of the Borei. True delight requires the possibility of the unforeseen. Even in play with children, it is the unanticipated response that evokes genuine pleasure.
Too often, we exert effort precisely to avoid being surprised—answering questions hastily, deflecting challenges to preserve our sense of security and avoid inner movement. True zerizus—the zerizus of the malachim, the zerizus of na’aseh v’nishma—demands the very opposite: a readiness to be moved, to encounter, and to be surprised.
This was the zerizus that formed the foundation and the point of departure from which Klal Yisrael left Mitzrayim.
Thus the Rambam concludes the Haggadah with בבהילו יצאו ממצרים —not merely “in haste,” but with focused, invested attention to every particular along the path.
From Pesach we proceed to Sefiras HaOmer, preparing for Mattan Torah. Each day demands its own focused avodah, just as Klal Yisrael progressed step by step, without foreknowing how the Ribbono shel Olam would address mortal beings and bestow His Torah. When that revelation arrived, it carried the profound quality of surprise and hischadshus—renewal.
May we merit, through genuine zerizus in both bein adam laMakom and bein adam lachaveiro, to experience that same renewal in our own avodah, drawing ever closer to the inner fire awakened by faithful action.
