Noach

When the flood has concluded,  Hashem, in his command to  Noach to go out & rebuild the world, promises that He will never send another flood to destroy the Earth. ‎Noach plants a vineyard, gets drunk & ends up in a uncompromising situation in his tent. After Cham tells his two brothers what's going on in their father’s tent, the posuk tells us: ויקח שם ויפת את השמלה וישימו על שכם שניהם, and Shem & Yafes took a garment, laid it on both their shoulders and covered their father. 

Rashi draws our attention to the fact that the Torah uses the singular form ויקח, he took, instead of ויקחו, they took. He explains  that the Torah is telling us that Shem exerted more effort in the fulfillment of the commandment to honor his father than Yefes. Therefore, Shem merited that his children were privileged & given the commandment of tzitzis, while Yefes, who also participated but to a lesser degree, merited that, at the end of days in the final war of Gog & Magog, his children will be buried in the land of Israel. 

Reb Zalman Sorotzkin explains the reasoning behind these two rewards. The mitzva of tzitzis that was given to the children of Shem, includes in it a guarantee that they will always have clothing, for, in order to be obligated to wear tzitzis, one has to have clothes. Mida K'neged Mida, he covered his father with clothes so his children merit to be clothed. As for Yefes, the promise that his children will merit burial is also Mida K'neged Mida, for just as he covered his father, his children will also be covered. 

This demonstrates that two people who do the same act, one doing it with the right intent & with his whole being while the other one does it only because his friend is doing it & feels he has to but doesn't really care. The first one’s reward is that, while he is alive, he will always have clothing, for he did the mitzva full of life. The other one also gets reward but ‎just as he did the mitzva without enthusiasm, “half dead”, he gets rewarded with burial. 

The Tzemach Tzedek relates a story about a simple farmer who lived in Israel. This man was unlearned & didn't even know what he was supposed to daven each day. Regardless, he was very careful not to miss any tefila despite the fact that he had no idea what he was saying. When he would come into Yerushalayim once a week to sell his produce, he would go to the rabbi who would show him what he had to say for the coming week. 

The rabbi tried to explain to him the basics & the general rule of what to say, but that was too much for him to comprehend. Therefore, the rabbi would meet him each week to explain what to say in the coming week.  One day the farmer comes to the rabbi & says that he won't be able to come to Yerushalayim for a few weeks, so he needs a prayer plan for the next few weeks which the rabbi gives him. 

About two weeks later, the farmer had to come to Yerushalayim unexpectedly. When he arrives, he finds all the stores closed & starts to panic. “Maybe it's Shabbos today & I miscalculated the days?” Quickly he finds someone who tells him that it's a public fast day & everyone is in shul davening. Now he's upset. “Why didn't the rabbi tell me about a public fast day. I didn't say any of the right prayers today.” He runs to the shul finds the rabbi; on the verge of tears, he asks why he didn't tell him about the special prayers for today‎?

The rabbi explained that this wasn't one of the regular public fast days; rather there had been no rain so they declared their own fast day to pray to Hashem to send them rain. This really confused the farmer. “Why do you have to call a fast day because there is no rain?” The rabbi asks him what they should do instead. The farmer answers, “do what I do when there is no rain; I go outside to the field & talk to Hashem. I say, “Father I need rain!” Then, it starts to rain. The rabbi says to him, “if that's what you do, then do it for us as well. They go outside, the farmer looks up and says, “Father, your children need rain; send them rain to sustain themselves. Immediately, it began to rain. 

Sometimes it's the sheer simplicity, the “pashtus”.   A whole town of people could be in shul davening for something  with no answer. Then, one simple person does the same act, says a prayer with his whole being & total belief because that’s his essence. He is answered. The message to us is that it's not about what we do; rather it's what we put into it.  It’s what it means to us that counts. Do we do it because the other guy did, or do we do it because we want to get closer to Hashem?  Ask yourself, “What is my motivation. What makes me tick?!”