Our *purpose* in life is to serve G-d.

In truth, however, Rabbi is telling us a profound insight, one which must fundamentally alter our own outlook in life. In a sense, we *do* have two masters when we observe our religion. Our success in fulfilling our purpose must not be gauged by how well we are performing the mitzvos (commandments) alone, but in how we are impacting on the world around us. And it's exceedingly easy (and sometimes tempting) to fulfill our obligations to G-d to the detriment of our mission to man. If someone is very holy and pious but somehow manages to get on everyone else's nerves (and we probably all know such people ;-), somehow he's not doing it right. Our purpose is not to dwell in our own little worlds or ivory towers consecrating ourselves to G-d alone -- and we must certainly not make our piety a weapon to distance ourselves from the world at large. Our mission is to transform the world around us into a reflection of G-dliness. We carry with us a message to the rest of the world. We must demonstrate through our deeds and behavior that G-d exists and His Presence can be felt within this world. We must build families and communities, interact with the world around us, and transform the world at large into a sanctuary worthy of the Divine Presence. And then slowly, the world will grow to become a reflection of the G-d who created it.

The Talmud (Yoma 86a) derives from the verse "You shall love the L-rd your G-d..." (Deuteronomy 6:5) that each of us is obligated to make G-d beloved through his or her actions. One should study Torah and deal kindly with others, so that they say, "Fortunate is his father who taught him Torah! Fortunate is his rabbi who taught him Torah!

It is so very easy and tempting to fulfill G-d's commandments to the letter but by doing so estrange ourselves from others - to exhibit a condescending, holier-than-thou attitude towards all we come in contact with -- especially those we know best. It is simply our "evil inclination's" way of attempting to frustrate our efforts after we have mastered the basics and have begun to serve G-d properly. We are tempted to use all of our good deeds and throw them in others' faces rather than using them to bring others closer to G-d. But Judaism asks of us something far greater.

The dilemma involved, however, is far deeper. The world for the most part is hardly up to the messages of truth and spirituality we have to share with it. How are we to go about fulfilling our mission to mankind while maintaining our own standards to G-d - standards which appear archaic, old-fashioned, and anachronistic to the rest of the world? Can we really impress both G-d and man, or does it seems at times we must decide between one or the other?

It is clear that when push comes to shove, we must serve our G-d first. Our bond to our beliefs must be far stronger than any flesh and blood bond. (The Talmud teaches that if your parents asks you to transgress a Torah law, you must not listen, for both you *and* your parents are obligated to listen to G-d (Bava Metziah 32a).) If the world really couldn't care less about truth, we will just have to stand firm against an uncaring, apathetic world (as did our forefather Abraham), preserve what we may, and hope for better times.

Nevertheless, it is my sincere belief that it is possible to do both. It is inconceivable to me that G-d would "force" us to hurt others.

Our practices might not always be socially acceptable or in the political mainstream, and we must at times stand aloof and apart, but our deeds, our conduct and our demeanor must always radiate love and pleasantness to all.