When one makes a siyum to mark the completion of a tractate of Talmud, we recite the beautiful words of the hadran[1], that "we toil and they toil; we toil and receive a reward, and they toil and do not receive a reward". Whereas, in the secular world, it is the bottom line that counts—no one cares how hard you work if the results are great—in the spiritual world, it is effort, not result, that matters most. Results, ultimately, are up to G-d—not to mention that many of the talents needed to succeed are G-d-given, so we can only be measured morally based on our efforts.
This is a fundamental point of Jewish theology that in our bottom-line oriented society needs to be stressed over and over again. While great effort may or may not lead to great results, great results can only come about through great efforts, at least in the field of Torah. And in the field of Torah, effort is always rewarded. "If a person says to you, 'I worked hard but did not find', do not believe; 'I did not work, but I found', do not believe; 'I worked and found', believe. This is only for words of Torah, but in business, [one's success] is dependent on help from heaven" (Megillah 6b). Being born into the right family may help, as it does in every other endeavor, but it is not enough. One only attains greatness in intellectual pursuits through much sweat and hard work. The Talmud notes that children of great Torah scholars most often do not become great Torah scholars themselves, so people do not say, "Torah is an inheritance" (Nedarim 81a)[2]. Yet a lucky break or other factors beyond one's control may enable one to become exceedingly wealthy with minimal effort.
A very simple but practical application of the above distinction between effort and result means that report cards for general studies should primarily be marked based on results; and those for limudei kodesh, based on student effort. A similar paradigm should exist for the performance of mitzvoth. While our society honours those who give generously to various charities—as well they should—often, those worthy of greater praise go unnoticed. The person earning $150,000 a year who gives ten percent of his income to charity may be worthy of greater praise than the billionaire who gives away 50 million dollars a year. While the results from the latter may dwarf the former, the effort of the former is much more impressive.
Yet great effort in Torah study is not enough. Torah, too, must (at times) have a bottom-line approach. "And regarding words of Torah, we only say this: [that effort matters most] in sharpening [our understanding], but leukmah girsa, to establish one's version, it depends on assistance from heaven". The common understanding of leukmah girsa is to recall one's learning, thereby establishing it within one's self. Effort is great in helping one to learn Torah, and the greater the effort, the greater the reward. However, to be able to recall what one has learned--to have a good memory—is a gift from G-d. And the mitzvah of Talmud Torah encompasses knowing Torah, not only learning Torah. Who will became a great Torah scholar is ultimately in the hands of heaven.
At the same time, leukmah girsa may also mean to have the law established like someone is from heaven. Why exactly the Shulchan Aruch became the accepted code of Jewish law while the Levush of Rav Mordechai Jaffe—which, for a time, was a serious competitor to the Shulchan Aruch—is almost completely ignored is ultimately a decision made in heaven. Jewish history is replete with the greatest of scholars whose works were lost, ignored, or just not accepted.
Our most famous "debating team", Beit Hillel and Beit Shammai, debated for three years, each arguing that the law was according to them. This debate was finally and only resolved when a heavenly voice declared that "these and those are the word of G-d" (Eiruvin 13b). In other words, the law could easily have followed that of Beit Shammai if not for this heavenly voice. And this, despite the fact that the Talmud makes clear that we are generally not to follow heavenly voices (Bava Metizah 59b). Rabbi Soloveitchik noted that, at times, G-d paskens, rules, for us. For years, rabbis debated whether they should support Zionism. As the Rav noted, after World War II and the creation of the State of Israel, that question became irrelevant, with historical events making a clear ruling. On an individual level, it is our efforts that count most. And that is what we must focus on. But even in the world of Torah, we cannot discern the contours of Torah development. We must do our part and pray that we have "help from heaven".
[1] The word hadran itself is related to the word hadar, beauty. See Minhagei Yisrael #1 p. 130-134, by Rabbi Daniel Sperber, for a beautiful discussion of the three meanings of "hadran".
[2] It is the norm that children pick up much knowledge in whatever field their parents are expert in—the child of a major league baseball player has an 800 times greater chance of making it to the majors than regular folk—and thus, it is not uncommon for some children of Torah scholars to become scholars themselves. But the vast majority do not; and those who do so only by working hard to take full advantage of their situation.
