Our Gemara on Amud Aleph discusses the famous lomdishe concept of psik reishe. Psik reishe is a Talmudic idiom that literally means “cut off its head,” which is part of a larger phrase, “Is it possible to cut off its head without it dying?” This idiom refers to an act performed which leads to an inevitable consequence. In many circumstances, such as with the laws of Shabbos, an inadvertent act is not forbidden if the intent was to perform something else, such as to drag a chair across the ground. While dragging it, it might make a small ditch, which violates a shabbos restriction, but that was not the intention. In such a case, it could be permitted. However, there is an exception. If, by dragging the chair, it is inevitable that it will make a ditch, and not merely a possibility, then intent to drag the chair can be equated with intent to make the ditch. Because, essentially, it is like saying, let me cut the head off without killing it. Cutting the head off is synonymous with killing it. So too, dragging the chair in a circumstance where it will always make a ditch is synonymous with having in mind to make a ditch. (See Shulchan Aruch O.C. 337:1.)

The idea that one act becomes synonymous with another, and therefore intent for one act is also synonymous with the other, can be used in ethical and moral discussions as well. An interesting application of this can be found in Rav Yonasan Eibeshitz’s Tiferes Yonasan (Devarim 8:3) in regard to the theological problem of performing the mitzvos purely, without expectation of reward or compensation. Rav Eibeshitz asks: though it says in Pirkei Avos (1:3) that one should serve God without expecting reward or compensation, how is this really possible? It is untenable that there should not be reward for performance of the mitzvos; therefore any sensible person who performs a mitzvah logically is going to expect some kind of benefit or compensation for it. In fact, he says this too is a psik reishe: the intention to perform the mitzvah is automatically going to bring the reward; therefore intention for one act that inevitably brings another is one and the same. I believe that Rav Eibeshitz is not just appropriating a lomdishe idea and oddly applying it to a theological point. I think there is a deeper meaning to this. I believe he really is saying that the reward comes from the value of the mitzvah, just as one might say the price of the merchandise comes from the intrinsic worth within it. Therefore, it is ludicrous to believe that the performance of the mitzvos will not yield some benefit; this is actually an indicator of value.

Rav Eibeshitz’s answer is based on another teaching, from Gemara Berachos (7a):

“Rabbi Meir said… As it is said: ‘And I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious’ (Exodus 33:19); in His mercy, God bestows His grace upon every person, even though he is not worthy. Similarly, God says: ‘And I will have mercy upon whom I will have mercy,’ even though he is not worthy.”

We might have read it as God giving reward or forgiveness to somebody who apparently does not deserve it. But Rav Eibeshitz understands this as not merely in relation to sin, and not just whether or not it is apparently deserved, but actually a general point: that God can give reward and benefit even to somebody who does not deserve it. Given that, Rav Eibeshitz wonders, why is this information particularly helpful? Why should Moshe be told this, or have this publicized? This kind of information could lead people to become lackadaisical, taking advantage of God’s good will, so to speak. However, Rav Eibeshitz says this was set up to counter the potential for service for the sake of reward or compensation. Because now, if one can get benefit even without deserving it, the service is no longer an inevitable psik reishe connecting it to reward, because the reward can come even without doing the mitzvah.

On a deeper level, we can explain it as follows. Because God is unfathomable and almighty, really He owes us nothing and can do as He pleases. While we are told that reward will come, the argument can be made that He owes us nothing, and He could give reward or not as He sees fit. Indeed, then, no matter how valuable the mitzvah is, there is no one-to-one inevitable connection between the mitzvah and the reward, allowing there still to be a pure motive.

I still wonder why Rav Eibeshitz understood the Gemara as God being gracious even when it is not deserved, as opposed to even when it is apparently not deserved. And I am thinking the simple answer is because, quite simply, the Gemara did not add the clarification “apparently.” One might argue that of course it’s only apparently without deserving it, because it there must be a real reason, even if it is one that God only knows. I am sure that Rav Eibeshitz would agree with that. However, even if it is “a reason” that only God knows, it may also be a reason that does not necessarily conform to any of our senses of rationality or fairness. And that might be the point. Because there are two ways to look at God and the world. Some might say that what seems to be fair, rational, logical, and compassionate has to be in some way comprehensible by human beings. Why would God put us in a world without at least the theoretical possibility of understanding it? Therefore, injustice is apparent, but not actual. With enough effort it could be understood. That is the classic rationalist approach. We can expect to understand things if we work out it hard enough, even the reasons for why and how God runs the world because He gave us an intellect and He expects us to use it. However, Rav Eibeshitz might not have bought that idea at all. He might believe God does not have to make sense according to any system other than His own. For Him, 1 + 1 could equal three, for all that matters, because for God, maybe 1 + 1 really IS 3. This is why he saw the Gemara as it was: that God can be gracious or do things, obviously for good reasons because God is ultimately good, but maybe for reasons that never could be understood and do not align with our idea of fairness in any sense even if we had all the tools in the world to understand it. Because God‘s intellect is not ours, and his ways are not ours.