Humility, Pt. 2

When the Mitteler Rebbe was young, he would spend time in the shul where the chassidim would daven. Being that he was well-versed in chassidic banter, when he saw a middle-aged man davening in haste and without proper concentration, he berated him for not davening with proper kavana. It seems that this was meant to be a constructive remark, however, it affected the worshipper deeply. 

“What do you know of the difficulties of my divine service?” the chassid asked the young prodigy. “Do you know what I have to do everyday to make a living? First, I must arise well before dawn to gather all the bundles of wheat from my stockpile, and load them up on my wagon. Then, I must journey several miles on rough country road to reach my first customer. All of my customers are local farmers, and you know how much they love to drink in this country. No farmer will speak to a word of business unless we have both downed a cup of vodka. Only after that can we strike a deal. I have to do this five or six times, and travel the rocky roads between each one. Only many hours later, after I have sold all my stock, am I able to turn to the beis midrash and devote some time to tefila. And that is besides for the fact that I do not know how to read and translate ivra well. I never had the opportunity to study the Torah in-depth because my father was poor and could not afford to pay the melamed to teach me.”
The imploring chassid did not stop there. “And you young rebbe, for you, it is all so easy. You are surrounded by holiness, you were taught the ways of chassidus from when you were first born. You do not need to work hard in order to make a living, for you subsist off the funds of the kollel.

“This is the reason why my prayers are not on the highest level,” the chassid concluded. The young Dov Ber was stunned into silence, and walked away contemplating what he had just heard.

Some time passed. The abovementioned chassid came into the Alter Rebbe for chassidus at his allotted time, for everyone had an allotted time to have yechidus with the Rebbe. When the chassid entered, the Alter Rebbe stood up and greeted this chassid very warmly. “Reb Yid, I must thank you personally. You have done what I could not do. You have made my Berele into a chassid.”

This story helps illustrate the fundamental aspect for us of our understanding of our place in life. It is common for one to feel ‘above’ or ‘superior’ based on their personal accomplishments. This feeling is the ego, inflated. It is the binding of identity with the outside, a not-ism, something that is not truly part of the person’s self. It is external to one’s core. Yes, it does celebrate a certain revelation of potential into action, but it does not warrant the ability to look down upon others who did not do the same. And perhaps more importantly, it does not give us the right to look down at ourselves if we feel that we do not live up to the ideal that we have set for ourselves. This can cause one to fall down a slippery slope, something which will be explained elsewhere.

By incorporating this understanding into our perception, we can learn an invaluable lesson. Moshe Rabbeinu himself had integrated this awareness so deeply that it became his nature. The gemara explains the Moshe was humble before even the strange idol-worshipper. Moshe was able to feel the same humility before every person. He attributed his tremendous spiritual powess to the fact that he had received an inheritance in his DNA from his ancestors. Thanks to their spiritual service, Avraham, Itzchak, and Yaakov were able to pass down through nature and education, a supreme awareness of Hashem to their children. Moshe understood this and realized that he had a step up on everyone else. That is why his accomplishments did not make him haughty or superior in his own eyes. And that is how we too, can be sure to remain humble and lowly — in a healthy manner! — in our own eyes as well.

Humility, Pt. 1

A story is told of the Arizal, where his students asked him how he merited to Ruach HaKodesh and the ability to see Eliyahu HaNavi. The holy Mystic responded, “by way of joy in performing my mitzvos”. According to his response, we can deduce that by way of experiencing true joy in the performance of mitzvos, we too can achieve a high level of holiness. However, this does not seem like a complete answer. Because other tzaddikim have also experienced simcha shel mitzva, yet they did not reach such high levels as the Arizal. It seems like there was something more that the Arizal did not say. 

The Mitteler Rebbe explains that the Arizal did not give the full answer to his students. The true answer is also the reason why he did not express it. How is that? What the Arizal HaKadosh did not mention is, is that the Arizal himself possessed within a spark of Moshe Rabbeinu. Moshe Rabbeinu was known as the ultimate anav — “And the man Moshe was extremely humble, more than any man on the face of the earth”. His humility was so great, that even before a gentile who served idolatry, Moshe considered himself lowly. That spark existed within the Arizal, and that spark is what endowed the Arizal with Ruach HaKodesh.

But what is this humility about which we speak? What did Moshe Rabbeinu and the Arizal possess that made them so great? And perhaps most importantly, how does the characteristic of ‘humility’, that is, being low before all others, lead to humility? 

To answer these questions, we must take a deeper look at the nature of humility. True humility. True humility does not mean that one looks upon themselves and sees only fault. It does not mean that one picks out all the ba in one’s self and brings it to the forefront for viewing pleasure and wallow in miserable self-loathing. No, that is not humility. That is something else. That is lowliness. That is negativity. Whatever the exact term is, it’s not humility. Humility is something else. Humility is something holy. Through true humility, one can reach the greatest heights. 

True humility — anava — is a lack of self-consciousness. Instead of identifying with achievements, traits, possessions, or anything else that is outside the self, the anav identifies with truth. In one’s own soul, no one is lowly. No being or entity is bad; fault does not exist. Or if it does, it exists in such a fundamental way as to not matter. No reference here is being made to one’s mistakes or the reasons why one might be considered bad. Rather, the focus lies on the true aspects of one’s life. The pure goodness, the will to do good, the desire for connection. So now, if an anav has people’s attention, the anav does not consider ‘I am cool. I get people’s attention. People love me. I am worthy. I am amazing!’. The anav is aware only of the purpose why people are attentive. If it be words of wisdom, the anav respects the wisdom flowing from his mouth. Be it music, the anav appreciated the groove of the moment. Is it something else? The anav appreciates those qualities, but does not identify their self-worth with that. Their self-worth comes from something far deeper. It comes exactly where it should be coming from: the worth of the self comes from the self itself. Nothing else. 

This concept can be further expounded in many different areas to provide a more comprehensive understanding. But for now, just this nugget suffices; it explains the core of the concept. From here, we can extrapolate and deduce, learn and derive. The ikkar is to take it to heart and employ it in our action.

Good Shabbos.