How many times have you met someone who openly declares “I know this is wrong, but I’m gonna do it anyway.” The conscience doesn’t allow for that. Rather, a feeling of unease, commonly referred to as cognitive dissonance, creates the groundwork for the rationalization process. And with that, the games begin.

Even in regards to man’s very first sin, when Hashem asked Adam “…who told you that you were naked? Did you eat from the tree?” rather than simply apologizing, Adam blamed the “woman whom you gave me.” When Hashem asks Chava about her actions, she too passes the buck, immediately blaming the serpent “who deceived me.”

The rationalization process is no less functional when it comes to our attitude towards mitzvot.

Take the case of an old friend I spent a weekend with almost thirty years ago, whose wife didn’t cover her hair. Many of my friend’s wives still don’t cover their hair and whether someone does or doesn’t is not my business.

However, it did not sit well with this guy, as he was simply uncomfortable with accepting the fact that his wife might actually be doing something wrong. Rather than leave it alone, he set out on a mission to justify why it was not necessarily an obligatory biblical commandment for a woman to cover her hair. While he was at it, he also justified a woman wearing pants. Again, whether or not a person wears pants or covers their hair is no one‘s business, but saying that it is 100% permissible isn’t rooted in our mesorah.

Suddenly, this mildly educated man began searching for any opinions — no matter how minor and lenient —- to justify his non-observance of many laws.

On the other hand, when it came to other mitzvot like davening, which were very dear to him, he would pray for twice as long as the average person, constantly criticizing the chazan for moving “too quickly.” Yet when asked why he didn’t wear tzitzit, he explained that it was a mitzvah to wear them, but not a sin if you didn’t.

It was almost as if his observance of Torah Judaism was modeled after the old Mr. Potato Head game, where you pick and choose the nose, hat and glasses, and build your own potato head.

Back in the day, I too focused on certain laws like Tefillin—which I always connected to—while I ignored other commandments, like Mincha. Why? Because I loved putting on Tefillin, but didn’t always feel like davening in the afternoon.

How many people foolishly delude themselves into thinking that living in Israel gives them a pass when it comes to keeping Shabbos? How many people think that if they cover their hair and cover their knees and elbows, then they can behave rudely or unethically?

In my youth, I was selfish, focusing on the things that were important to me, while ignoring other commandments that I deemed not as important. I didn’t perceive their infinite value, viewing them as inconvenient. How foolish of me!

After all, how can we with our limited capacity, not to mention, our own subconscious ulterior motives, possibly understand the many layers of meaning behind Hashem’s commandments? It’s very nice that many of us see the value of keeping Shabbos or keeping kosher but even if we didn’t, these commandments are no less obligatory. Aside from the benefits we perceive, there are other additional reasons for us fulfilling mitzvot, reasons beyond our understanding. Hidden spiritual reasons. Yet for every single Jew, the single most important reason to observe the Torah is because God charged the Jew with a clear mission: to accept the Torah because of עול מלכות שמים(“yoke of the Kingdom of Heaven”).

A machloket (dispute) in Masechet Berachot furthers the idea of following the laws simply because Hashem commanded them when discussing the mitzvah of shiluach haken, shooing away the mother bird. One opinion is offered that this mitzvah was given to teach us compassion, while the other opinion says it is an edict from Hashem, plain and simple.

The games we play are no different than the young boy who got a bow and arrow for his birthday and immediately went outside to practice in his yard. A few minutes later, his father stepped outside and was amazed to see a dozen arrows dead in the center of a dozen different bullseyes.

“That’s amazing, son! How do you manage to hit a bullseye every time?”

“It’s no big deal, Dad. I shoot the arrow first, and then, wherever it lands, I paint circles around it!”

How many of us work mitzvahs around our lifestyle, and instead of aiming for the targets of life set forth by the Torah, we draw circles around our own lifestyle, calling it the bullseye?

When we meet Hashem in the Next World, He will ask us, as he asked Adam, “Where are you?” Are we going to make excuses, blaming the “woman whom you gave me,” or “the serpent who deceived me?”

Rather than experience that shame, let us proudly declare to Hashem what Korach and his followers were heard declaring, according to the Gemara Bava Basra: “Moshe emes v’Toraso emes.”

Moshe is true and his Torah is true.

Avi Ciment lives in Florida and is a longtime columnist for The Jewish Press. He lectures throughout the world and has just finished his second book, “Real Questions Real Answers.” He can be reached at www.AviTalks.com.