Does God Really Care if I Keep Mitzvot?
Understanding the commandments, Divine love, and what it means to live a meaningful Jewish life
If God is perfect, infinite, and lacks nothing, why would He care whether we follow the commandments? Why would the Creator of the Universe be concerned with the details of our lives? And what’s the deeper purpose behind the mitzvot (commandments) in the first place?
To begin unpacking these questions, we need to start not with theology, but with love.
A Love Story at the Heart of the Torah
One of the most famous love stories in the Bible isn’t about human romance. Shir HaShirim (Song of Songs) is a poetic and emotionally charged dialogue between two lovers who seek one another endlessly. Though they struggle to meet, their longing only intensifies their bond. As the verse declares, “Many waters cannot extinguish love, and rivers cannot sweep it away” (Shir HaShirim 8:7).
But this isn’t just poetry. According to Jewish tradition, Shir HaShirim is an allegory for the enduring relationship between the Jewish people and God. We are the beloved bride; He is the devoted groom. Throughout history, through times of closeness and times of distance, the bond has remained unbreakable.
This metaphor isn’t new. Moshe tells the people, “It was not because you were more numerous than all the peoples that God set His heart on you and chose you… but because of His love for you” (Devarim 7:7–8). The prophet Malachi says, “I loved you, says God” (Malachi 1:2), and Yirmiyahu proclaims, “I have loved you with an everlasting love” (Yirmiyahu 31:2). Again and again, the prophets compare this relationship to the love of a parent for a child: “My child, My firstborn, is Israel” (Shemot 4:22), and “Is Ephraim not My precious son?” (Yirmiyahu 31:19).
The message is clear: God loves us. He treasures us. And that love is the foundation of everything.
The Purpose of Life and the Role of Mitzvot
So what’s the point of our lives, from the perspective of this Divine love?
If life has a Creator, then it must also have a purpose. And if there’s a purpose, we wouldn’t be left to figure it out on our own. God gave us the guidance we need by gifting us the Torah at Mount Sinai. The Torah isn’t just a book of laws; it’s the blueprint for a life of meaning. According to Jewish tradition, God created the world with a single goal: to bestow goodness upon us.
The goodness in question is more than fleeting joy or physical comfort. It’s spiritual bliss. It’s something deep, eternal, and untainted by suffering. But God didn’t want to give it to us as a handout. To truly enjoy it, we have to earn it. That’s why our souls were placed into physical bodies and sent into this complex world, which is a place of struggle, growth, and choice.
Every time we choose good over evil, connection over apathy, and light over darkness, we elevate ourselves and the world around us. The Torah is our map. And the mitzvot are the tools God gave us to move closer to Him and become the people we’re meant to be.
Why Does It Have to Be This Way?
Why not just give us bliss from the start?
Because unearned goodness isn’t real. Only by striving, by living with intention and purpose, can we transform our souls and become worthy of that eternal reward. According to Jewish mystical tradition, all souls are fragments of the original human soul that belonged to Adam, and our task is to repair the world and ourselves through conscious choice and spiritual work.
When we live in alignment with God’s will through mitzvot, we create that closeness. And in doing so, we not only prepare for the World to Come, but we also begin to feel a deep joy and spiritual satisfaction now. A life rooted in mitzvot brings clarity, purpose, and inner peace. That’s not just theology; it’s a psychological and emotional truth that many Jews have experienced firsthand.
Jewish souls, the tradition teaches, are spiritually attuned to something higher. While vacations, entertainment, and comfort can bring temporary pleasure, only a life of spiritual elevation satisfies the deeper longing of the Jewish soul. That’s why the Torah and the path it lays out feel different. The Torah speaks to our essence.
Mitzvot Are for Us, Not for God
It’s crucial to understand that God doesn’t need our mitzvot. He is Complete, Infinite, and lacks nothing. But God does desire something—for our sake. His desire isn’t like human desire, which stems from lack or need. His desire is an expression of love.
We encounter this throughout the Torah: “God commanded us to observe all these laws… for our good, all the days of our lives” (Devarim 6:24); “Keep the commandments… for your own good” (Devarim 10:12–13); “So that it may go well with you and your children after you forever” (Devarim 12:28).
Our Sages taught: “God wished to grant merit to Israel; therefore, He gave them many mitzvot” (Makkot 23b). The mitzvot weren’t given to burden us. They were given to uplift us.
Even our daily prayers emphasize this love. Before we say the Shema, which declares our acceptance of God’s kingship, we remind ourselves of His love: “With eternal love You have loved us” (morning prayer), and “With an eternal love for the House of Israel Your people…” (evening prayer). Before we submit to God’s will, we affirm that everything comes from love.
Real Connection, Not Just Good Intentions
But real connection requires more than just warm feelings. If we want to build a relationship with God, it has to be on His terms, not ours. That’s why personal spirituality, detached from the Torah’s framework, can never replace mitzvah observance. The Torah is our bridge to God. The Torah is our language of connection.
God doesn’t need our rituals. But He waits for our prayers. He waits for us to reach out. For us to draw close. When we put forth effort and demonstrate our intention to do His will, something profound happens: the eternal meets the finite. The Divine meets the human.
And this is made possible through mitzvot.
So…Does God Care What We Do?
Absolutely.
Because what’s love without care? And what’s care without action?
God cares about the mitzvot, not because He needs them, but because He cares about us. And when we embrace the life He envisioned for us, we’re not just checking off boxes. We’re answering His love with love. We’re stepping into our purpose. We’re allowing the two lovers of Shir HaShirim, the soul and its Creator, to finally encounter one another.
The Torah teaches that every Jew is a world unto himself. As the Mishnah states (Sanhedrin 4:5):
Therefore, man was created as a single individual to teach that anyone who destroys a single Jewish life is considered as if they destroyed an entire world, and anyone who sustains a single Jewish life is considered as if they sustained an entire world… Therefore, each person must say: ‘The world was created for me.’
Just as all of humanity originated from one person, Adam, the Torah views each individual as a complete and irreplaceable universe. Every Jew matters infinitely. No one else can fulfill your unique role in God’s world. Just as a parent sees each child as their whole world, so too God sees each of us as singular, essential, and beloved.
This idea was beautifully expressed by Rabbi Simcha Bunim of Peshischa, who taught that every person should carry two slips of paper, one in each pocket. One paper should contain the words of Avraham, “I am dust and ashes” (Bereishit 18:27), to remind us of our smallness in the face of God’s greatness. The other paper should have the words “The world was created for me” (Sanhedrin 37a), to remind us of our unique value in God’s eyes.
The challenge, he said, is knowing which note to read each time.
Studies show that taking even a short break from regular physical exercise (for example, just two weeks) can have a measurable negative impact on the body. Muscle mass decreases, blood sugar spikes more easily, body fat and weight increase, aerobic endurance drops, blood pressure worsens, oxygen consumption capacity declines (VO₂ max), and insulin resistance rises.
As physiologist Tzur Castel puts it:
Unfortunately, you can’t ‘save up’ physical fitness like money in the bank. Even when your fitness level is high, your body’s capabilities can’t be maintained without consistent stimulation of its systems. Even elite athletes will experience a steady decline in performance without regular training. That’s why you need to stay active throughout your life, without long (voluntary or involuntary) breaks if you want to maintain your fitness.
And just like the body, so too the soul.
The mitzvot are designed to engage us every single day, with no “off-seasons” or extended breaks. Their purpose is to maintain and strengthen our spiritual health. In essence, the mitzvot are a gym for the soul.
Observing a mitzvah once a week, or once every couple of weeks, isn’t enough to preserve or enhance one’s inner well-being. According to the Torah, the recommended “prescription” for spiritual vitality is a consistent daily routine. Just like your body, your soul needs regular workouts to stay strong, focused, and healthy.
According to Jewish tradition, each night our soul is temporarily taken from us, and each morning, God returns it. That’s why, as part of the morning blessings, we recite these powerful words:
My God, the soul You placed within me is pure. You created it, You formed it, You breathed it into me. You safeguard it within me, and one day You will take it from me and return it to me in the time to come. As long as my soul is within me, I give thanks before You, God, my God and the God of my ancestors, Master of all creation, Sovereign of all souls…
In this short but profound prayer, we affirm a core belief: that our soul is our truest self and that it is pure. Every morning, when God returns our souls to us, it’s a sign that He still believes in us. He wants us to live another day, because He trusts that we can choose goodness, grow, and make the most of the life He gave us. Above all, it’s a daily reminder of His love.
A powerful teaching from Pirkei Avot offers deep insight into how we relate to God’s will: “Make His will like your will, so that He will make your will like His. Nullify your will before His, so that He will nullify the will of others before yours.”
What does this mean?
At the surface, the message is straightforward: Align your will with God’s, make His desires your own, and in turn, He will align His will with yours and grant you blessing, abundance, and success. Similarly, when you give up something you want because it contradicts the Torah, God may “nullify” opposing forces or harsh decrees that were headed your way.
But like much of the Torah, there’s a deeper layer here. A spiritual truth beneath the surface.
At Mount Sinai, the Jewish people famously said, “Na’aseh v’nishma” (“We will do and we will understand”). They committed to fulfilling the mitzvot even before fully grasping their meaning. Why would someone agree to act before they understand what’s involved?
Because they recognized that the Torah comes from God, and His will is the ultimate truth. That’s the essence of faith: choosing to live in alignment with something greater than ourselves, even when we don’t fully comprehend it. That’s the first part of the mishnah cited above: “Make His will like your will.” Choose to act on His truth, not only when it’s convenient or intuitive, but even when it challenges your perspective.
But the story doesn’t end there.
The second part of the Mishnah reflects the second part of the Sinai declaration, nishma, “we will understand.” After we commit to doing, we are meant to engage with the meaning behind the mitzvot, to explore, question, and learn. As we deepen our understanding, the mitzvot stop feeling like external obligations and begin to feel like expressions of our own inner truth. Over time, our will and God’s will begin to merge.
That’s the goal. Not blind obedience, but integration. Not just “doing the right thing,” but becoming the kind of person who wants to do the right thing. When the Torah becomes part of our essence, we no longer feel at odds with it. Instead, we feel uplifted, aligned, and deeply connected.
A powerful expression of God’s love for the Jewish people appears every day in our prayers. Twice a day, morning and evening, we recite the Shema: “Hear, O Israel: the Lord is our God, the Lord is One.”
This verse is known as kabbalat ol malchut shamayim (“accepting the yoke of Heaven”). It’s a declaration that we are completely dependent on God, that He is the only true reality, and that our role is to follow His will.
But before we say the Shema, we are first reminded why we would want to. Each morning, we say: “With eternal love You have loved us… Blessed are You, God, who chooses His people Israel with love.” And each evening we note: “With eternal love for the House of Israel, Your people, You have loved us… Blessed are You, God, who loves His people Israel.”
These introductory blessings frame the mitzvot as part of a loving relationship. They remind us that the commandments were given out of deep Divine love, and that our bond with God is built not only on duty but also on a mutual loving relationship.
The Torah teaches that every Jew is a world unto himself. As the Mishnah states (Sanhedrin 4:5):
Therefore, man was created as a single individual to teach that anyone who destroys a single Jewish life is considered as if they destroyed an entire world, and anyone who sustains a single Jewish life is considered as if they sustained an entire world… Therefore, each person must say: ‘The world was created for me.’
Just as all of humanity originated from one person, Adam, the Torah views each individual as a complete and irreplaceable universe. Every Jew matters infinitely. No one else can fulfill your unique role in God’s world. Just as a parent sees each child as their whole world, so too God sees each of us as singular, essential, and beloved.
This idea was beautifully expressed by Rabbi Simcha Bunim of Peshischa, who taught that every person should carry two slips of paper, one in each pocket. One paper should contain the words of Avraham, “I am dust and ashes” (Bereishit 18:27), to remind us of our smallness in the face of God’s greatness. The other paper should have the words “The world was created for me” (Sanhedrin 37a), to remind us of our unique value in God’s eyes.
The challenge, he said, is knowing which note to read each time.
According to Jewish tradition, each night our soul is temporarily taken from us, and each morning, God returns it. That’s why, as part of the morning blessings, we recite these powerful words:
My God, the soul You placed within me is pure. You created it, You formed it, You breathed it into me. You safeguard it within me, and one day You will take it from me and return it to me in the time to come. As long as my soul is within me, I give thanks before You, God, my God and the God of my ancestors, Master of all creation, Sovereign of all souls…
In this short but profound prayer, we affirm a core belief: that our soul is our truest self and that it is pure. Every morning, when God returns our souls to us, it’s a sign that He still believes in us. He wants us to live another day, because He trusts that we can choose goodness, grow, and make the most of the life He gave us. Above all, it’s a daily reminder of His love.
A powerful expression of God’s love for the Jewish people appears every day in our prayers. Twice a day, morning and evening, we recite the Shema: “Hear, O Israel: the Lord is our God, the Lord is One.”
This verse is known as kabbalat ol malchut shamayim (“accepting the yoke of Heaven”). It’s a declaration that we are completely dependent on God, that He is the only true reality, and that our role is to follow His will.
But before we say the Shema, we are first reminded why we would want to. Each morning, we say: “With eternal love You have loved us… Blessed are You, God, who chooses His people Israel with love.” And each evening we note: “With eternal love for the House of Israel, Your people, You have loved us… Blessed are You, God, who loves His people Israel.”
These introductory blessings frame the mitzvot as part of a loving relationship. They remind us that the commandments were given out of deep Divine love, and that our bond with God is built not only on duty but also on a mutual loving relationship.
Studies show that taking even a short break from regular physical exercise (for example, just two weeks) can have a measurable negative impact on the body. Muscle mass decreases, blood sugar spikes more easily, body fat and weight increase, aerobic endurance drops, blood pressure worsens, oxygen consumption capacity declines (VO₂ max), and insulin resistance rises.
As physiologist Tzur Castel puts it:
Unfortunately, you can’t ‘save up’ physical fitness like money in the bank. Even when your fitness level is high, your body’s capabilities can’t be maintained without consistent stimulation of its systems. Even elite athletes will experience a steady decline in performance without regular training. That’s why you need to stay active throughout your life, without long (voluntary or involuntary) breaks if you want to maintain your fitness.
And just like the body, so too the soul.
The mitzvot are designed to engage us every single day, with no “off-seasons” or extended breaks. Their purpose is to maintain and strengthen our spiritual health. In essence, the mitzvot are a gym for the soul.
Observing a mitzvah once a week, or once every couple of weeks, isn’t enough to preserve or enhance one’s inner well-being. According to the Torah, the recommended “prescription” for spiritual vitality is a consistent daily routine. Just like your body, your soul needs regular workouts to stay strong, focused, and healthy.
A powerful teaching from Pirkei Avot offers deep insight into how we relate to God’s will: “Make His will like your will, so that He will make your will like His. Nullify your will before His, so that He will nullify the will of others before yours.”
What does this mean?
At the surface, the message is straightforward: Align your will with God’s, make His desires your own, and in turn, He will align His will with yours and grant you blessing, abundance, and success. Similarly, when you give up something you want because it contradicts the Torah, God may “nullify” opposing forces or harsh decrees that were headed your way.
But like much of the Torah, there’s a deeper layer here. A spiritual truth beneath the surface.
At Mount Sinai, the Jewish people famously said, “Na’aseh v’nishma” (“We will do and we will understand”). They committed to fulfilling the mitzvot even before fully grasping their meaning. Why would someone agree to act before they understand what’s involved?
Because they recognized that the Torah comes from God, and His will is the ultimate truth. That’s the essence of faith: choosing to live in alignment with something greater than ourselves, even when we don’t fully comprehend it. That’s the first part of the mishnah cited above: “Make His will like your will.” Choose to act on His truth, not only when it’s convenient or intuitive, but even when it challenges your perspective.
But the story doesn’t end there.
The second part of the Mishnah reflects the second part of the Sinai declaration, nishma, “we will understand.” After we commit to doing, we are meant to engage with the meaning behind the mitzvot, to explore, question, and learn. As we deepen our understanding, the mitzvot stop feeling like external obligations and begin to feel like expressions of our own inner truth. Over time, our will and God’s will begin to merge.
That’s the goal. Not blind obedience, but integration. Not just “doing the right thing,” but becoming the kind of person who wants to do the right thing. When the Torah becomes part of our essence, we no longer feel at odds with it. Instead, we feel uplifted, aligned, and deeply connected.
Would you celebrate after a conversation like this with your boss?
My daughter did. She celebrated the day her “Boss” called her into His office and told her: “The party’s over.”
Let me explain.
We Jews are a strange people. We celebrate the most unexpected things. Everyone’s heard of graduation parties, retirement parties, and farewell parties. But who throws a party to mark the beginning of responsibility?
Let’s say you have a dream job, one that your friends envy. You’re treated like royalty: great pay, full benefits, vacation packages, wellness perks, and even spa days. One day, your boss invites you into the office:
Boss: “Come in, have a seat.” You: “Thanks.” Boss: “You’ve been with us what, twelve years now?” You: “Almost. And honestly, you guys have been amazing.” Boss: “We’ve been paying you well. Full health benefits. Gourmet lunches. Generous vacation time…” You: “And I’m grateful for every bit of it.” Boss: “Out of curiosity, what exactly are your responsibilities here?” You: “Nothing, really. I don’t actually have a specific job. I just… show up sometimes, walk around, and observe. I’ve learned a lot. And the trips, the parties—I never miss one!” Boss: “Well… the party’s over.” You: “Wait! What do you mean?” Boss: “It’s time. Here’s a manual with your new responsibilities.” You: “This is huge. It must be a thousand pages!” Boss: “That’s just the summary. The rest is in the downstairs library.” You: “Oh yeah. I’ve seen the library. It’s got tens of thousands of volumes.” Boss: “Right. We’re doing important work here, and starting tonight at sunset, we expect you to contribute. First, by following the instructions. Later, by understanding the why behind them. You’ll have mentors. There are people who’ve been here for decades and are still learning. Good luck! I’ll be tracking your progress… for the next 108 years.” You: “108 years?!” Boss: “At least. Hopefully more. And don’t forget to pick up your new ID badge on your way out.”
So let me ask you again: would you celebrate after a conversation like that?
My daughter did.
When she turned twelve, she celebrated her Bat Mitzvah, not just a birthday and not just a party, but the moment she became a bat mitzvah, a person who is spiritually responsible and accountable. According to Torah law, she was now obligated to fulfill mitzvot. In other words, she was officially on the team.
Until then, she was an observer. She was learning the ropes, soaking it all in. But now? She was given a role. A mission. She wasn’t just part of the Jewish people; she was a partner in the Jewish story.
And she was thrilled.
We threw a big party with music, dancing, family, and friends. But we weren’t celebrating freedom. We were celebrating purpose.
There’s something tempting about a life with no responsibilities. But let’s be honest, it gets old fast. A life with no purpose starts to feel empty. So we invent ways to feel important, chasing meaning in things that never quite satisfy us.
That’s why we Jews don’t celebrate retirement. We celebrate the day someone receives a thick book of instructions, a long list of responsibilities, and an ID badge that says: Fully Accountable Member.
Because deep down, we know that there’s nothing more joyful, more meaningful, or more fulfilling than a life of purpose.
