Adapted from: Pirkei Avos: Generation to Generation by Rabbi Nosson Muller

רַבִּי חֲנִינָא בֶּן חֲכִינַאי אוֹמֵר: הַנֵּעוֹר בַּלַּֽיְלָה וְהַמְהַלֵּךְ בַּדֶּֽרֶךְ יְחִידִי, וּמְפַנֶּה לִבּוֹ לְבַטָּלָה — הֲרֵי זֶה מִתְחַיֵּב בְּנַפְשׁוֹ 

One who stays awake at night or who travels alone on the road, but turns his heart to idleness — indeed, he bears guilt for his soul. (Avos 3:5)

R’ Avraham Azoulai explains that the Tanna is discussing three different scenarios. First, one who wastes his entire night with idle matters instead of using it to rest so that his next day can be productive; secondly, one who walks alone in dangerous areas; and thirdly, one who refuses to fill his mind and heart with thoughts of meaning and significance. The common thread of all three circumstances is a person who gives no sense of importance to his life. Accordingly, the Tanna labels such a person as one who is killing his soul.

Bereishis Rabbah (Noach 3) relates that when R’ Akiva’s students would begin to doze off while he was teaching, he would ask them the following riddle in order to awaken them. “In what merit did Queen Esther reign over 127 countries? In the merit of the 127 years that her matriarch Sarah lived.” Why did R’ Akiva choose specifically this riddle and what is the meaning behind the answer?

Chiddushei HaRim explains that clearly, it was the merit of the perfect and all-encompassing 127 years of Sarah Imeinu’s life of avodas Hashem that enabled her granddaughter Esther, generations later, to reap the benefits of her good deeds. Yet the lesson here is much deeper than a simple mathematical calculation.

Imagine if one fine day, Sarah would have turned to her husband Avraham and said, “You know, it has been quite a century of hachnassas orchim! Perhaps in honor of our hundredth year, we should take a sabbatical for a year. No guests, no teaching, and no kiruv. Just a quiet and relaxing year; don’t we deserve a break? Of course, immediately thereafter, we will go right back to our vigorous and sacred work.” Would anyone be able to say Sarah was being selfish or self-centered? Of course not! But one thing would be certain; Sarah would only be credited for truly living for 126 years! Subsequently, her granddaughter Esther would have only reigned over 126 countries.

Every day of our lives is another block in the city we are building for ourselves to enjoy in the Next World. Every week that we live productively is another skyscraper in our very own town, and every hour in which we accomplish great things creates another park, flower, and shady tree in our personal paradise. It is for this reason that R’ Akiva chose this specific riddle to awaken his students from their slumber, as it illustrates so clearly the preciousness of each moment of life. He was subtly telling them, ‘Wake up, my dear children. There is no time to waste. We have empires to build.’

R’ Elyashiv gives two beautiful alternative explanations to the words of this mishnah.

“Hanei’or — One who merits being awake,” i.e. he is doing well and is secure in his life, “balaylah — yet others around him are going through times of darkness,” or a person who merits being “mehalech yechidi — one who is succeeding in the path he has taken,” yet his friends that have taken the same path have not yet seen success, “u’mefaneh libo l’vatalah — he empties his heart in disregard to the suffering of those around him,” such a person is “mischayeiv b’nafsho’” as his self-centeredness makes him a person who doesn’t deserve to live the life with which he has been blessed with!

The second explanation is based on the Gemara (Berachos 61).

The Gemara recounts that Papus ben Yehudah approached R’ Akiva and asked him why he wasn’t afraid to teach Torah in public after the Roman emperor threatened to kill anyone who would do so. R’ Akiva responded to him with a parable. “There was once a fox who was walking along the riverside and observed how the fishermen were attempting to catch the many fish swimming about.

“Seeing the desperate plight of the fish and imagining a delicious meal for himself, the fox slyly bent over and asked the fish why they were thrashing about in the water in such a panic. The fish responded, ‘Because of the nets that have been spread to catch us!’ The fox responded, ‘I have a brilliant idea that can help you! Why don’t you come on up to the dry land, far away from the fishermen’s nets, and we will live together happily ever after!’

“The fish replied to the fox, ‘Are you the animal that is considered clever? Clearly, you are a fool! If in the water — where we can survive — we are afraid, then most certainly would we need to fear for our lives if we were to go up onto dry land, where we cannot survive at all!’ So too,” said R’ Akiva to Papus, “if when learning Torah, we are in such danger, can you imagine what would become of us if we were to stop learning?”

This is what our Tanna is teaching us. “If we are a nation in the dark and alone, and we don’t fill our hearts with Torah, we cannot possibly prevail and are bound to falter!” Only when, despite our hardships, we cling to the Torah and fill our hearts and minds with its meaning, will we merit surviving the darkness and solitude of our bitter exile.