The relative importance of various Torah commandments is determined by factors such as the type of mitzvah, the specified punishment or reward, its emphasis in the verses, etc. From many standpoints, the mitzvah to "love G-d" is the most important mitzvah in the entire Torah. For one thing, there is no other mitzvah that is rooted in so many aspects of our personality: "You shall love Hashem your G-d with all your heart, all your soul, and all your essence" (D'varim 6,5).

Furthermore, the Torah continues there: "These words… shall be on your heart," meaning that our faith in G-d (Shma Yisrael, verse 4), as well as our love for G-d of verse 5, must be on our hearts at all times. We must engrave this on our hearts, to the point that the Torah states "you must speak in them" (verse 7) – from which the Sages derive: "in them, and not in other things." Thus, every word we say must be an outgrowth and offshoot of our love for G-d. 

And if this is not enough, the Torah mandates that these feelings must occupy us from morning to night, in all situations: "When you sit at home" – this is relatively easy – and even "when you walk on your way." That is, even when you face the tribulations lack of concentration of your journey, and when you have to deal with its bothersome details – even then (and especially in times of yore when people traveled in carriages and felt every bump in the road and the extreme weather conditions and the like) – "you must speak in them" and contemplate the subject of your love, namely, G-d. And even "when you go to sleep" – when you are tired after a full day and have no strength to think of anything, even then, "You shall love Hashem your G-d."

Even the "rational" Rambam becomes a fiery Hassid when he speaks of loving G-d [Laws of Repentance, 10,3], comparing it to one who has totally fallen in love with a woman: 

"What is the proper degree of love of God? One should love Him with a very great and strong love, to the point that his soul is bound up in this love and is always involved in it, as if he is lovesick, [one] whose thoughts are never diverted from the love of that woman; he thinks about her all the time - when he sits down, when he gets up, when he eats and drinks. An even greater love than this should be [our] love for God …"

This description sounds like the love that King David had for Hashem. Our Sages said that he slept for very short periods at a time – because something was very much on his mind, as he wrote in his Psalms: "My soul yearns, it pines for the courts of the Lord… to the living God," and "My soul thirsts for You; my flesh longs for You." The intensity of his longing for Hashem would wake him up in the middle of the night, like a man who is so in love that it keeps him up at night and he cannot stop thinking about the object of his love.

But, the question is obvious: How is it possible to attain such a love for Hashem? How can the Torah possibly "command" our hearts to have this feeling, or any feeling? Our heart is an organ that does not take well to being told what to do; even if the Torah commands it to feel love, or to feel hatred, it sees no obligation to obey. This is why it sometimes appears that this mitzvah is only for righteous tzaddikim. 

But in fact, this is not true. Our Torah teaches that not only King David must love Hashem with all his soul; every Jew must live this way. But how? 

We can suggest two approaches, two ideas that can help us come a bit closer to this mitzvah. The first is a teaching of the Baal Shem Tov that sums up most wondrously everything that was said about this topic. He said that the primary aspect of the mitzvah to love G-d is to emplace in our minds thoughts that arouse such feelings of love. That is, working with emotions is, first and foremost, work with the intellect. Just like in marriage, there are things that arouse love, and others that arouse apathy, or even worse; the question is what we choose to concentrate on. Our love begins to erode when we stop thinking about those things that arouse love; we must therefore make time and attention to turn our thoughts to those topics. The same is true for the love of G-d. 

Of course, everyone is different, and what arouses love for one person is not the same for another, and therefore no one can give unambiguous advice on how to "love" one's spouse, or how to love G-d. Rather, each must person must find those things that cause the feelings of love to awaken, and focus on those.

This approach has a Chabad flavor, in that it assumes that the mind can control the emotions. For those who find this approach difficult, here is the second idea. My father summed it up in a few words: "D'veikut [clinging to G-d] is like a contagious disease; go to where large amounts of this virus is found, and breathe in as much as you can." 

He himself did exactly this, going every Sabbath night to Reb Ahareleh's Hassidic gathering in Meah She'arim, even though he did not subscribe to their approach in matters other than d'veikut. He would stand in a corner, sing some of their nigunim, and soak up the atmosphere, just so he could imbibe some of their excitement and love of G-d. 

This second approach utilizes the concept an "atmosphere of holiness." A study was conducted in the United States a number of years ago, to find the most effective way to be mekarev [bring close] Jews to an observant Torah lifestyle. The winner was found to be not Torah study, not Shabbat candles, not being helped to don tefillin in the street – but rather a simple Shabbat meal (!). 

Shabbat meals, more than any other mitzvah, are the pinnacle of the Jewish atmosphere. They have hominess, warmth, closeness, togetherness, food and wine. Today, with the increase of aloneness in the world, where people go to bars simply because they seek company and closeness, what can be more welcome than a nice warm Sabbath meal with others?  

The Shabbat atmosphere is where all sit together, without rushing, with words of Torah, friendliness, a place for everyone, a portion for everyone. The Shabbat meal doesn't take place in a restaurant or in a hall for 500 people, but at home, in an ambience of intimacy and connection, with Shabbat songs and conversation. Can anything be more special?

The idea of "atmosphere" has much to tell us regarding how to teach children the mitzvah of loving G-d. For we all have a question gnawing at us, one that we would never ask aloud: "Does G-d love me? Does He really-really love me?" This is a critical question, because deep down, this is what we really all want: to be loved. 

Famous musicians who perform before thousands of adoring fans seem to able to fulfill this need relatively easily. But in truth, I know from experience that when these performers return home at night from a successful show, they once again feel all alone. The void in their psyche is not filled so easily – because what they, and we, actually long for is not superficial love, but rather the true love, that of G-d. 

By providing a pleasant ambience in which everyone is accepted as he is, and is given the sense that they are loved unconditionally, we give a bit of the type of love that G-d showers upon every Jew. And we must also - primarily! - provide a similar atmosphere for our very own children.

The Rebbe of Slonim, author of Netivot Shalom, used to give a pep talk to the children's teachers in his Hassidut, and would tell them: "When you enter the classroom each day, the first thing you have to do is to look around at the children and see that you love each one of them. This is a basic condition; if not, don't even start teaching. You can't have an influence if you don't love." 

The first method above – thinking thoughts that arouse love – is very important and effective, but no less important is the idea of creating an atmosphere that arouses love. This is a much greater gift than we think, and we should use it abundantly and with all our hearts.

Translated by Hillel Fendel