What is the most important step a person can take?
The answer, of course, is – always – “the next step.”
Not everyone agrees. Most people don’t want to have to think that hard. Being passive and complacent is very attractive, and it is often coupled with some kind of fatalism. “Don’t worry,” says the fatalist. “G-d has this.” Or, “If I do nothing, I will be rewarded in the World to Come for my suffering.” Or even, “I did whatever I was told by an authority figure.” In all cases, we shirk personal responsibility, claiming that obedience and submission are what G-d (or “the universe”) wants from us. This path is much easier, because it does not demand that we change what we already instinctively want to do, which is to reduce our personal responsibility.
People who try to prioritize “the next step” are, on the other hand, inherently dissatisfied with passivity. We believe that we cannot sit on our laurels, or define our future merely by our past, or our genetics, or the way other people have treated us. No: if the next step is the most important one, then we are always supposed to be dissatisfied with the way things are right now, especially about ourselves. We must always try to find ways to step up and effect positive change, even when it comes with the risk of making different choices than other people.
The challenge of always trying to do better is intrinsically connected with consciously thinking and challenging oneself. Active evaluation and consideration (usually preceded by education and training) are essential preparatory steps before taking any positive action.
This can be seen in, for example, the application of justice. We have laws and processes precisely because having knee-jerk reactions to someone else’s behavior inevitably leads to mindless mob rule, like the Reign of Terror in the French Revolution. In a lawful society, we rely on a legal system despite its obvious limitations and flaws, because even a slow and error-prone legal system remains far, far better than anarchy.
This is true for any interpersonal interaction. For example, posit that you want to bring someone a present, perhaps some flowers.
If you take the easy, thoughtless path, you might grab whatever is handy, and have someone deliver it.
If, on the other hand, you want the flowers to be received in the best possible way, you consider what would be best for that person and that occasion. And you would make sure that the flowers looked good– can you imagine bringing a bouquet of roses wherein one rose is obviously brown and dead? So the choosing of gifts requires thought and consideration and putting oneself in someone else’s shoes – all of which are hard to do well.
I think the same underlying principle applies to justice and to presents: the next step is the most important, and to do it right, you have to be conscious and thoughtful.
This is a subtext throughout the Torah. The Torah makes clear distinctions between things we do with conscious awareness, and the things we do mindlessly or accidentally. Indeed, the Torah (D. 17) specifically commands, “Justice, justice shall you pursue,” followed shortly after with “You shall not set up a sacred post—any kind of tree beside the altar of G-d,” with “You shall not sacrifice to [G-d] an ox or a sheep that has any bad defect.”
I think these are all related to the idea of the “next step.” Justice: We do not follow our urges and impulses when it comes to right and wrong; we instead have a legal system and processes. Tree worship: Nature is not the model for how society should be structured, and so we do not put nature on a pedestal. Offerings: We only bring presents that we have carefully considered and examined to ensure that they are not defective. We do not default to whatever is convenient or handy. All are combined in the same section of the text, because they all share the same underlying requirement: think carefully about the next step before acting.
The Torah is telling us that we do not get to be complacent: we must not accept whatever we happen to feel in the moment, or a skin-deep level of understanding of the world, or even reckon that our offerings do not require careful consideration and preparation.
Judaism is always meant to be thoughtful, not to be practiced with mere reflexes or convenience. This applies to every aspect of our waking lives. Taking the next step demands no less.