Making Room for Wholeheartedness

The Torah commands us to "Be wholehearted (tamim) with God your Lord," yet we often misunderstand what this means. The first letter of the word tamim – the letter tav – in the verse “Be wholehearted (tamim) with God your Lord” (Deut. 18:13) is traditionally written in Torah scrolls larger than the other letters of the word.  Rabbi Naftali of Ropshitz taught that the large tav in tamim creates space for everyone to enter into wholeheartedness, no matter how great they consider themselves.

 A tamim is not a simple fool or naïve person, as modern Hebrew suggests. Jacob, the first person called an ish tam, was certainly no simpleton—he outwitted Laban through cunning and declared himself "a brother in deception." Rather, temimut means wholeness and complete commitment to remaining within God's domain, refusing to seek forbidden knowledge through divination or other paths that lead outside the Torah's framework.

The essence of temimut lies in one's initial reaction to new encounters—the willingness to accept and listen before immediately blocking or analyzing. When the Jewish people declared "We will do and then hear" upon receiving the Torah, they demonstrated this quality, while other nations first demanded to know what was written before committing. This does not mean blind acceptance without later investigation, but rather the ability to receive something in its wholeness before dissecting it into parts. A tamim says yes first, then examines, rather than approaching everything with suspicion and the assumption that deception lurks behind every smile.

Yet maintaining temimut becomes increasingly difficult as we accumulate knowledge and experience disappointment. Like tasting from the Tree of Knowledge, once we learn the world's complexity, it becomes nearly impossible to return to simple acceptance. The great Rabbi Shimshon of Kinon, despite his vast learning, prayed "with the mentality of a young child." This is our challenge—to study and analyze while retaining the ability to stand before God like a weaned child with its mother, stilling and quieting our souls despite all our accumulated wisdom. 

Questions to Contemplate

How has my accumulated knowledge and life experience either enhanced or hindered my ability to approach God and spiritual practice with the simple wholeness of a child?

In what areas of my life do I find myself "outside God's domain," seeking answers or control through methods that take me away from trust and wholeheartedness?