Rabbi Bunim of Pshis’cha said that everyone should have two pockets; one to contain, “I am but dust and ashes,” and the other to contain, “The world was created for my sake.” At certain times, we must reach into one pocket; at other times, into the other. The secret of correct living comes from knowing when to reach into which.

Humility is the finest of all virtues and is the source of all admirable character traits. Yet, if a person considers himself to be utterly insignificant, he may not care about his actions. He may think, “What is so important about what I do? It makes no difference, so long as I do not harm anyone.” Such feelings of insignificance can cause immoral behavior.

When a person does not feel that his actions are significant, he either allows impulses to dominate his behavior or slouches into inactivity. At such a time, he must reach into the pocket of personal grandeur and read: “I am specially created by God. He has a mission for me, that only I can achieve. Since this is a Divine mission, the entire universe was created solely to enable me to accomplish this particular assignment.”

When presidents and premiers delegate missions to their officials, those officials feel a profound sense of responsibility to carry out the mission in the best possible manner. How much more so when we are commissioned by God!

Today I shall…

keep in mind both the humbleness and the grandeur of the human being.

-Rabbi Abraham J. Twerski
“Growing Each Day, Kislev 1″
Aish.com

I cited this exact quote from Rabbi Twerski just a week ago but it seems appropriate to do so again. As you read this “meditation” it is Sunday morning, but given the Thanksgiving holiday and having my parents in town, I’m writing this several days in advance. As it is right now, I feel as if I will attend church again on Sunday and attend the same Sunday school class, having come (however tentatively) to terms with my failing grade in community.

If only I could continually recall the rather useful piece of information provided by Rabbi Bunim of Pshis’cha about having two pockets and reaching into one or the other as need be. I suspect that we all would be better people if we heeded such sage advice. But in attempting to balance out my character traits, I seem to have stumbled upon a greater and more “multi-dimensional” human problem.

When G‑d created the world, He created both good and evil. After these two elements came into being, they came before G‑d and asked for their respective missions. “Spread the light of goodness and kindness in the world,” G‑d instructed the Good Side. “This is achieved by making people aware of their Creator.”

G‑d then instructed the Evil Side to combat the good, thereby giving people the choice and opportunity to overcome adversity. The Evil Side asked, “But will I be able to do my job? Will people really listen to me?” When the Creator responded in the affirmative, the Evil Side asked to be told its name. “You will be called the Serpent,” said the Creator.

Upon hearing this, the Serpent became worried. He was afraid that his name alone would frighten people away and doom his mission. “Have no fear,” reassured G‑d, “you will succeed.”

Indeed, the Serpent was successful in misleading Eve to sin, convincing her to eat from the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden and to share her sin with Adam. After Adam had eaten from the same fruit, G‑d banished the pair from Eden, and thus began all of life’s challenges.

However, when Adam and Eve realized their sin, they repented completely and managed to atone for their folly. Seeing the holiness that now permeated their lives, the Serpent came before the Creator again. “Destroy me,” he implored. “I will never be able to succeed now!”

-Rabbi Yossy Gordon
“Sly Arrogance”
Chabad.org

Christians aren’t used to imagining “evil” as a sympathetic character and we certainly don’t imagine evil as a creation of God (and a useful one at that). I suppose that’s one of the reasons we Christians have a difficult time truly grasping how Jews think and conceive of God, the Bible, and everything.

As Rabbi Gordon proceeds to tell a tale attributed to Rabbi DovBer of Lubavitch (the “Mitteler Rebbe,” 1773–1827), we see the “identity” of the evil inclination continue to be metamorphosed by God as circumstances required.

From the failed serpent, evil was transformed into the Angel of Death, which was greatly feared until the advent of Abraham, who spread knowledge of God to the people around him. After that, God had pity on the evil inclination and allowed the Angel of Death to become Satan. You’d think that would be his final identity, but no. In the guise of Satan, the evil inclination was able to do its work until Moses came and began teaching Torah. Satan was so forlorn that he begged the Creator to put him out of his misery.

God had other plans and renamed the adversary “Arrogance.”

Arrogance now began his career. This time, his disguise was so good that he even penetrated houses of Torah learning. The more a true scholar studies, the more he realizes how little he really knows. However, under the influence of Arrogance, people would study and not be humbled by their knowledge. Instead, they assumed airs of superiority and looked down with disdain at the unlearned. Of course, they sugarcoated these feelings by claiming to defend the dignity of their knowledge, not their own person.

Although this wasn’t to be the last guise of the evil inclination, it’s one that manages to adhere to and sway many, many religious people in the world. For some people I encounter, they “defend the dignity of their knowledge,” denying that they are actually arrogant, but some say they are defending the “truth of God” (though they are actually defending their own interpretation of “truth”) and thus apparently make themselves invulnerable to criticism (because to criticize such a person is to actually criticize God).

That’s not my problem, though. I’m not even sure the following is my problem, but in offering advice to a chassid who feared becoming arrogant due to his great Torah knowledge and devotion to prayer, Rabbi DovBer had this to say as the climax of his parable.

This continued until Rabbi Israel Baal Shem Tov arrived in this world. He revealed the true unity of G‑d, before whom all are equal—no matter their level of scholarship.

Again the Evil Side came before the Creator, disguised as Arrogance, asking for a merciful end. Again his name was changed. This time, instead of plain Arrogance, it would be known as “Fear of Arrogance.” Being less bold than plain old Arrogance, Fear of Arrogance could do its work in peace.

“Now, listen here,” concluded the Mitteler Rebbe. “You should know that Fear of Arrogance is Arrogance, who is Satan, who is the Angel of Death, who is the Serpent himself! Quickly, throw him out of your house, because your life is at risk!”

You can either be too arrogant or too humble, but excessive humility can be a disguise for “fear of arrogance.” That’s where I am or where I imagine myself to be, not just in relation to church but in relation to faith and trust in God, sitting on the edge of a razor blade, fearing to jump in one direction or the other. Even though I’m physically going to church, I’m not really being the church (is four weeks sufficient to be the church?).

Early Sunday morning, my parents should be leaving to return home, my daughter should be at work, I’m not sure of my wife’s schedule, but at 9:30 this morning, I should be sitting in church, trying to decide which of two pockets to reach into in order to pull out what I need at the moment.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

Addendum: Keep in mind that any number of experiences will have occurred between when I wrote these words and how I think and feel by the time you read this. My next “meditation” could have a very different tone.