Tag Archives: humility

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43 Days: A Failing Grade in Community

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Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’

–Matthew 25:37-40 (ESV)

I just came back from a very interesting Sunday school class discussing Pastor’s sermon on Acts 7:44:53 and in fact, I really think I embarrassed myself.

I didn’t mean to, of course.

We were talking about how Christians might limit God and put Him, and our faith, “in a box,” so to speak. It was an extension of what we had learned about the Tabernacle and the Temples from today’s sermon (Pastor does believe that Ezekiel’s Temple will literally be built, which was a relief to hear). One woman in the class was discussing how our true duty as Christians is to believe, quoting from parts of John 6 and Christ’s “bread of life sermon.” I jumped in (and it wasn’t the first time I shot off my big mouth in class today) and said something about feeding the hungry, giving the thirsty something to drink, and visiting the sick, as evidence of our faith.

Then Charlie, the class teacher said something that stopped me cold.

He basically told me that he thought the “final judgment”section of Matthew 25 (specifically Matthew 25:31-46) has been misunderstood. He reminded me of something I had mentioned just a few minutes before; that Jesus was a Jew talking to other Jewish people. He said he understood from the passage that we Christians have a special duty to love the Jewish people and that how we Christians treat the Jews is how we shall be judged.

Wow.

He didn’t put it exactly in those words but like I said, it stopped me cold. I was being very gently rebuked for applying to humanity something that should only be applied to the Jewish people.

Like I said, wow! Really?

I still don’t think that we’re supposed to ignore the needs of a desperate world around us, but I suddenly saw those verses in a new light. I’ve never heard that interpretation before and I don’t know if anyone shares it, but it makes a sort of sense, particularly in light of some of what the “strict: form of Messianic Judaism teaches about the church’s duty to Israel and the Jewish people.

I feel like I really missed something and frankly, I feel pretty humbled (and not a little humiliated) by the whole experience. I have to admit that after some of the conversations I’ve had lately about how certain corners of Messianic Judaism tend to treat Christians like red-headed, left-handed, ne’er-do-well, mentally deficient, step-children, that I also fell into the trap of thinking I had a “leg up” on a few things, given my background. I failed not only at community but especially at humility.

But it’s so confusing because there seems to be such a mix of ideas, opinions, and interpretations going on, and a lot of it seems very traditionally Christian. Then I hit a major speed bump in my assumptions about the church environment I’m in and came to a complete halt. I guess this is something about me God wanted me to learn…and He chose a pretty public spot in which to teach it to me.

Fortunately, it happened near the end of class and I could beat a hasty retreat back to my car and home.

I had intended to write about how the Pastor interpreted the role of the Temple in Judaism, and especially his rather unique understanding of what Stephen was accusing the Sanhedrin of, relative to “putting God in a box.” But then my own failure in putting Christianity “in a box” took precedence, not just in failing to consider the consequences of the Matthew 25 teaching, but in daring to think I actually had something to contribute that might be new and interesting to the class. I was arrogant and I was wrong.

Oops.

When I was anticipating going to church this morning, I got a feeling of boredom, like I’d have to put up with a bunch of “Christianese” for the sake of reconciliation and community. Now I wonder if I should even go back, having stubbed my toe that badly. Maybe I have nothing to contribute at all. Maybe my personal, internal template just can’t be adjusted sufficiently to integrate with these people.

It’s 43 days until my self-imposed time limit, which seems like a goodly amount of time, but it also translates into a maximum of six more Sundays until the end of the year. Let’s figure that I won’t be going to services on December 23rd for obvious reasons, and that takes me down to five Sundays, each a maximum of three hours of exposure to this community. Fifteen more hours total. So far, not including my interview with Pastor Randy, I only have nine hours under my belt.

I took a risk today. I spoke my mind again in class. I really tried to keep quiet and self-contained in services, even sitting in the very back for fear of taking up someone else’s seat, but in class it’s harder because it’s interactive. Things seemed to be going well or at least “neutral” until that last string of words that came out of my mouth.

Like I said…oops.

Anyway, I have a week before I have to face my embarrassment again. We’ll see how it goes. After nine hours, I don’t feel any closer to this community than I did when I first walked in the door, apart from recognizing a few faces. Fifteen more hours to go until I have to make a decision. I might not go back at all except I set a time limit and I am determined to see it through. Maybe it would have been better if I knew nothing at all. Maybe it would have been better if I had a personality that was so shy that I could never speak in a group.

But if I keep my commitment to those last fifteen hours, will it really do any good? I just don’t seem to “do” community very well. There’s a saying attributed to Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens):

“It is better to have people think you a fool, than to open your mouth and remove all doubt.”

Today, I removed all doubt.

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47 Days: Learning Humility

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Dear Rabbi:

I have a problem. It’s my ego.

I have been duly chiding myself and ever reminding myself that my accomplishments are only possible by G‑d’s good grace, so I should not feel any more accomplished than the guy next door.

But then I start wondering: am I never allowed to feel good about myself? How can you accomplish anything in this world if you never take credit for anything you do?

Answer:

You are not alone in this struggle. This balance between letting go of ego and maintaining a healthy sense of self-confidence is an issue for all of us, simply because we are human.

We have G‑d given talents for a reason: So we can refine them, develop them and use them in our daily lives to serve our Maker. G‑d gives us the tools, but utilizing them to their full potential is up to us.

So we should be thankful and happy that G‑d has given us our unique talents, for it means that He thinks we can develop them and do good things with them. He believes in us. And as we develop an understanding about G‑d and who He is, we can deepen our appreciation for His belief in us.

G‑d’s belief in us is even more apparent when we look at our weaknesses, for that’s where the real challenge lies. G‑d gave us these major challenges because He knows we have the ability to overcome them and succeed. Contemplating this fact will certainly result in a happy and self-confident attitude about oneself.

-Rabbi Avi Davis
“Without Ego, How Can I Feel Good About Myself?”
from “Questions and Answers”
Aish.com

So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

–2 Corinthians 12:7-10 (ESV)

All this sounds a lot like what I wrote about yesterday in relation to God’s sovereignty vs. our own over the world. Humanity went from being taken care of in creation to be the caretakers of creation because we desired it. We desired it more than we desired obeying God. Now, on the other side of the equation, we (well, those of us who are aware of God and His nature) realize that we really do need God and that the world is often too big for us to manage alone.

Well, anyway that’s how I feel. The world is too big for me to manage alone. Heck, even my life sometimes is to big and too messy for me to manage on my own. When don’t I plead to God to lend a hand (or two or five) in sustaining me and my family?

And yet amazingly, there are those, even in the community of faith, who don’t seem (at least in public) to have any concerns about their personal abilities whatsoever.

Even if the entire world considers you a tzaddik (pious and righteous), you should nevertheless think of yourself as if you were sinful.

-Niddah 30b

In 1965, I visited the Steipler Gaon, a sage whom people often consulted for medical advice. Since he had heard that I was a psychiatrist, he wanted to find out new developments in medications for mental illnesses. I related to the Gaon whatever I knew about the most recent advances.

“Is anything available that can cure someone from delusions?” he asked. I told the Gaon that delusions were very resistant to treatment, and that while antipsychotic medications could subdue overt psychotic behavior, the delusional thinking itself was difficult to eradicate.

“But what if someone has the delusion that he is the greatest tzaddik in the generation?” the Gaon asked. I could not restrain myself and laughingly replied, “No medication can cure that.”

The Gaon shook his head sadly. “Too bad,” he said. “That malady is so widespread.”

Delusions of any kind are a sign of mental illness. How sick a person must be to consider oneself a tzaddik, and how wise the Talmud was to caution us against developing such delusions!

Today I shall…

try to be honest with myself, and even if my behavior is such that people may think I am a tzaddik, I must not allow myself to be deluded.

-Rabbi Abraham J. Twerski
“Growing Each Day, Cheshvan 28”
Aish.com

This is certainly one delusion I don’t harbor within myself. I have great admiration for the tzaddikim who I encounter in both the Jewish and Christian communities (although I suppose truly righteous Christians would be referred to as “saints”). And yet there are some people, who are fortunately few in number in my corner of the blogosphere (at least since I’ve decided to respond to them differently) who seem to behave as if they were the most righteous people in our generation, apart from anything resembling humility.

There’s an irony here. I have found that those who have achieved great things and who are truly righteous before God are often quite humble. We see in Rabbi Twerski’s story that a man who may well have been one of the most righteous in his generation, did not desire to experience that awareness (I suspect he was speaking of himself and not others) and wanted to be “cured” of his “delusion.” Even Moses, the greatest of the Prophets, who lead millions of people through the wilderness for forty years and spoke “face-to-face” with God, was called the most humble man on the earth (Numbers 12:3).

Most of the time, truly accomplished individuals don’t have to go around telling everyone they are truly accomplished individuals, at least if they are secure in who they are (and secure in God). As we saw from the “Ask the Rabbi” question I quoted at the beginning of this missive, most of us (I include myself in this group) struggle to achieve a balance between humility and a sense of self-worth and accomplishment. And whenever one is in danger of becoming a little too arrogant as a tzaddik, as we see in Paul’s example, God provides a “thorn” or other reminder that he is (and we are) constantly dependent on the Providence of Hashem.

When we are aware of God and we become aware that we have a definite part in His plans for the world around us, sometimes there’s a temptation to take pride in that. It’s difficult for most of us to separate what God is doing through us and what we are doing ourselves. How are we to take pride and boast of God while not boasting of our own achievements?

For a true tzaddik, this doesn’t present much of a problem because they have reached such a spiritual level that their eyes are constantly on God and they can see it is His power and His will that is working in the world. The tzaddik is the instrument of that will, and it is the tzaddik’s job to take the talents God has provided him and refine them in the world for the sake of Heaven.

For the rest of us, we continually strive to realize what the tzaddik has learned. We must bend our will, submit to God, and refine our gifts without succumbing to self-pity, or out of a sense of victimhood, depression, because we feel we aren’t good enough as just who we are. On some occasions, it is exactly those individuals who have succumbed to their identity of “victimization” who appear, on the surface, to be the most arrogant and confident in who they are. In reality, they struggle a great deal (but in a futile way) to achieve a type of signficance from external situations which can only truly be achieved internally, between the person and God. Like Paul, we can only achieve significance in humility.

I have found a new sense of humility in my recent return to church and the challenges it has presented. I am in no sense the conductor of my own destiny within the church’s walls or within its community of souls. I am the recipient of acts of kindness and friendliness among hundreds of strangers who are also my brothers and sisters in Christ.

And yet, I haven’t “talked Christian” as such in many years, so each encounter is like visiting a foreign country for three hours a week and wondering how I can accomplish the “immigration” process to become a “citizen,” not of the Kingdom of Heaven, but of this particular body of believers.

In writing these words, I realize that one of the reasons God has put me where I am right now is to learn this very lesson. Whenever you encounter feelings of inadequacy, loneliness, isolation, and even embarrassment, stop for a minute or two and look at where you are and why you are there. Maybe it isn’t just a tough social situation or being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Maybe you are in the right place in God’s time. For me, I believe, at least for now, church is where God put me to listen, not just to Him, but to everyone else.

We learn humility and even some modicum of righteousness like we learn anything else…by the doing.

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My Strength

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Do you want to enhance your life? Keep repeating throughout the day, “I love you, Hashem, my strength.” As you repeat this a number of times each day, you will feel yourself being strengthened spiritually and emotionally. You will be able to remember that Hashem is your Rock, your Fortress, and your Rescuer (Psalms 18:2,3). Hashem is the source of your strength. Recognizing this, gives you an inner strength that will sustain you on a high level each and every day.

-Rabbi Zelig Pliskin
“Sustaining Inner Strength, Daily Lift #581”
Aish.com

As I write this, it is the morning of the last day of Rosh Hashanah as it is traditionally celebrated. Yom Kippur is yet to come but it is fast approaching. Many Jews around the world are rapt in solemn awe of God and praying, repenting and seeking forgiveness and redemption for themselves, their loved ones, the state of world Jewry, and the state of the world.

I said not too long ago that it’s important to take care of yourself. Letting yourself get beaten up too much, even for the sake of Heaven, could inhibit you from performing those tasks that God set before you for the sake of Heaven. While it is important and sometimes even vital to “fight the good fight,” it is also said that you should “choose your battles.” Remember, especially in the blogosphere, there are many, many people who argue for the sake of arguing, though they will always tell you that they have a more noble point to make. I suppose it should be easy to pick out the toxic people who blog or worse, who are part of your face-to-face life, and then avoid them, but engaging such people and trying to “debate” them is like staring at the aftermath of a terrible auto accident. It’s horrible to watch, but you can’t turn away.

But that’s not the point of life nor is it the reason God caused each of us to come into existence.

As young boys, Abaye and Rava were sitting in front of Rabbah, when Rabbah asked them, “To whom do we speak when we are saying a brachah?”

-Berachos 48a

Abaye and Rava both said that it is to ‫ – רחמנא‬the Merciful One— that we daven. When Rabbah asked them where ‫ רחמנא‬is found, Rava pointed toward the beams of the roof, and Abaye walked outside and pointed to the sky. Rabbah declared, “You are both destined to be great Rabbis! This is what is meant when people say that large squash plants can be detected from when they are already just blossoming.”

We often find Hashem referred to as “‫ – רחמנא‬The Merciful One”. This is rooted in our belief that everything Hashem does is only for our benefit. Hashem is infinitely compassionate, and He is merciful and kind in all His ways. When we recite blessings before we eat, it is an expression of our belief in Hashem’s precise supervision and specific care of all aspects of the world. Our proclaiming a brachah inspires an influence of holiness upon the world, and all spiritual entities associated with this food and the process involved in its preparation are activated.

Daf Yomi Digest
Gemara Gem
“Making of a Gadol”
Berachos 48

That’s closer to the point. “This is rooted in our belief that everything Hashem does is only for our benefit. Hashem is infinitely compassionate, and He is merciful and kind in all His ways.”

For some people, the solemn, august ceremony of Yom Kippur may not particularly emphasize God’s compassion and mercy. Particularly for non-Jews or Jews who were not raised in a religious home, encountering Yom Kippur “abruptly” in the middle of your life may seem not just humbling, but humiliating. You have sinned. You have failed everyone who depends on you, and you have failed God. How is it possible to approach the Throne and beg for another chance, another year, another life? After all, you’ve failed so often and so severely. People don’t change. People can’t change (or can we?).

Last year at this time, I wrote a blog post called Dancing with God on Yom Kippur. Seems like a rather odd image, but actually, it’s more appropriate than you might imagine. God is all about second chances. God, of course, knows how frail and error-prone we human beings are, and how easily we are lead astray, most often by our own delusions and desires. We think God wants us to talk incessantly when He really wants us to be quiet. We think God wants us to be a warrior, battling everyone who has a different theological bent than we do, but He really just wants us to be lovers of peace.

All things being equal, human beings would mess up a free lunch. We are the only elements in all of God’s Creation who don’t understand how to fit in and live our lives purposefully.

It takes great strength to face the worst aspects of who you are. It takes enormous courage to say, “I’m wrong” and “Will you forgive me?” not just to God, but to other people you or I or anyone has hurt. Most people don’t have that kind of strength and courage without humbling themselves before God. Most people defend themselves by becoming defensive and never imagine that they have made mistakes. Well, perhaps in their heart of hearts they do, but they fear the sense of self-humiliation that they think will accompany apologizing and making amends. They think it will trap them in a downward spiral of depression but in fact, it is ultimately liberating.

Remember what Rabbi Pliskin advised: “Keep repeating throughout the day, ‘I love you, Hashem, my strength.’ As you repeat this a number of times each day, you will feel yourself being strengthened spiritually and emotionally.”

The Lord is my light and my salvation;
whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life;
of whom shall I be afraid?

–Psalm 27:1 (ESV)

It may seem like a strange paradox, but in order to gain the strength we need to serve God in the coming year, we must become the least of all people, humbling ourselves even though we are terrified of feeling humiliation. We must become the least of all creatures, smaller and more helpless than even an infant. In humility, as children of God, we have the right to ask for His mercy. It is in our weakness that we are strong.

And calling to him a child, he put him in the midst of them and said, “Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. –Matthew 18:2-4 (ESV)

For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong. –2 Corinthians 12:10 (ESV)

I love you, Hashem, my strength.

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Answering God

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Many of us believe we will have an opportunity after our stint upon this earth to stand before a great mahogany desk in the sky and demand of G‑d, “If You are so kind and omniscient, why were You silent?” And then G‑d will show us the view as He sees things, and all will be answered.

Perhaps. Perhaps not. Perhaps at the end of all things, at the core of all wisdom, at the very essence of all being lies not an answer, but a question. Perhaps many questions. And who knows, perhaps this question is one of them.

Perhaps G‑d will simply counter our question with yet another and ask, “So what did you do to answer this question?”

And if we will say, “I did nothing, because I saw you did nothing,” then He will say, “So this that you asked, was it a question? Or was it just another answer?”

For that is the only bad question: the one that is not a question at all, but merely an inexpensive excuse to shrug our shoulders and scurry back to our holes, to do nothing.

-Rabbi Tzvi Freeman
“Is There Such a Thing as a Bad Question?” (And when do you get to ask it?)
from “The Freeman Files”
Chabad.org

I probably write a pretty strange blog, especially in the “religious space.” Most religious blogs are all about giving answers to tough (or not so tough) questions on theology, doctrine, history, Bible translations, and so on.

I don’t do any of that. The idea of being the “Bible answer man” just repels me if, for no other reason, than because we aren’t so sure of our answers. Watching just the Christian religion and all the opinions, denominations, sects, and cults out there should be enough to convince even the most casual observer that we’re all madly dancing on the head of a pin anyway. What the heck to we know?

OK, it’s probably not that bad, but even I, a self-avowed Christian (albeit an unusual one), get disgusted with all the confusion and chaos within my own faith at times. What disgusts me even more than the chaos, is the amazing audacity of some folks out there who seem absolutely sure they have all of the answers all of the time. On top of that, they plan to build churches, schools, Jerusalem councils, and whatnot on the foundation of their opinions, and then they turn around and trash anyone who doesn’t agree with their set of arbitrary absolutes.

I sound like a very strange Christian right now, don’t I?

But as Rabbi Freeman points out, if we expect God to lay it all out for us before we can do anything about anything, all we’ll end up doing is “scurrying back to our holes” and hiding in the dark.

I must admit there are times when that sounds terrifically appealing.

But no, I can’t.

No, really. One of my favorite bloggers, Asher closed up his Lev Echad blog and walked away from it all. His motives are his own and I’m sure they aren’t the same as mine, (when I’m tempted to throw in the towel) but he seems to have ended his stint on the blogosphere as an act of faith.

Look through the history of the Jewish people (especially Israel) and there is a simple conclusion that can be drawn: God is orchestrating events. Even when it’s difficult to understand certain events, we can still control our reaction to them. In fact, Jewish tradition has it that the Final Redemption will occur when we realize that we can only rely on God. If we but take our incredible history to heart, it shouldn’t be all that difficult to come to that conclusion.

I admired Asher’s writing because he had no ax to grind, no agenda (hidden or otherwise), no theological complaint to harangue the rest of us with. He just wanted (and probably still wants) to promote unity between one Jew and another.

As for me, I’m still working on that whole “be at peace” thing.

Feel intense empowerment as you have the strength to remain silent when silence is the wisest course of action. Your silence will not be passive, but an active silence that comes from self-mastery. As you remain silent, hear an inner cheer. Your silence requires as much skill as any Olympic athlete. It is a victory that deserves a standing ovation. Hear an inner voice saying, “I’m proud of your self-mastery to remain silent.” Your silence is the mark of a champion!

-Rabbi Zelig Pliskin
“Have the Strength to Remain Silent, Daily Lift #563”
Aish.com

I’ve been reviewing this past week’s “meditations” and even in my most benign missives, I find that I couldn’t help making a few comments on those people and movements (though, not by name) who I feel also “struggle” with walking out the path that Jesus meant for us to follow. Frankly, it’s tough not to want to push back when so much of what people are saying “out there” is designed to sting you.

But if I were to truly look at Asher as an example and to take Rabbi Pliskin’s advice, I’d delete this blog, my Facebook and twitter accounts, and shut down my online presence completely. I don’t doubt that a few people would be glad that I did.

Is there a point to these “morning meditations” or are they just the random ramblings of a mind that needs to be busy with other things? Am I saying anything unique or just parroting the quotes of people wiser than I am?

Yesterday, you were inspired. Today, that is all gone. And so, you are depressed.

But this is the way the system works: Everything begins with inspiration. Then the inspirations steps aside—to make room for you to do something with it. For fire to become deeds.

-Rabbi Tzvi Freeman
“Runaway Inspiration”
Based on letters and talks of the Rebbe
Rabbi M. M. Schneerson
Chabad.org

As I continue to wrestle with these questions and find no absolute conclusions, the only answer I can come up with is temporary. We were each given an individual voice with which to speak. How we view the world we live in and our place in it is different for each of us. No two of us walks quite the same path and all individuals have their own special vision. Those of us who blog, express that vision in words and the occasional picture. Others paint, or pray, or teach, or give to charity, or build houses for the homeless, or serve food to the hungry, or realize it’s more important to be kind than clever, or…

You get the idea.

Many paths, many people, One God.

But remember, One God means He is Lord of all. We aren’t. With over 181 million blogs in existence around the world, how can any one blogger claim to be so important? Many voices and each one is unique, but none of us is special.

Humility eliminates many of life’s problems. A humble person will not be bothered by life’s circumstances and will not envy what anyone else has. He will not become angry nor quarrel with others.

It is very pleasant to be in the presence of a humble person, therefore people will invariably like him. All of his interactions with other people will be serene and tranquil. Fortunate is the person who has acquired this attribute.

Today, imagine that a miracle has occurred and you suddenly have total humility. In what way does this enable you to free yourself from any anxiety you frequently experience?

-Rabbi Zelig Pliskin
“Humility Eliminates Many Problems, Daily Lift #564”
Aish.com

Many voices, One God. Many questions, no answers. But it’s not the answers that drive me but the questions. It’s not certainty of purpose that compels me to write the next blog and then the next one, it’s the puzzle of humanity and the mystery of God.

It’s Friday. Shabbat will arrive at the end of a tiny march of hours. If total humility is a miracle, then so is total peace. But for a small span of time, I will still my voice and cease my questions. Then I will listen. May it be His will to speak.

But if He asks me a question, how will I answer God? How would you?

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God Finds You

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One who raises his voice when he davens is among those of diminished faith.

– Berachos 24b

Raising one’s voice in prayer is considered a demonstration of diminished faith in God. According to Rashi, the reason for this is that the person seems to be showing that he thinks that God will not listen to his prayers if they are spoken softly.

We should not interpret this statement literally. After all, only a fool would think that God only hears prayers at a certain audible level. This is not what the Gemara is discussing. Rather, the Gemara is referring to a person who davens regularly, but he feels that his prayers are not answered. There are two ways of reacting when this happens. One conclusion is to understanding that God, in fact, does respond to prayers, and that He cares about every person and every word directed towards Him. It is just that God has determined to not grant the request at this time, due to His system of perfect justice and due to His mercy.

The other conclusion a person might consider is that God is not listening to him. A person whose prayers are “denied” might feel abandoned, and therefore daven more intensively. A person might then hope that this, in and of itself, was the problem. The raising of one’s voice due to the feeling that God has been ignoring the prayers which were spoken softly is a function of a deficient understanding of God’s willingness to hear prayer.

The lesson of this Gemara is that we must strengthen our trust in God and in the knowledge that He cares about each of our prayers. God is continually monitoring every aspect of our willingness to call to Him, and although the answers to our prayers are not always discernible immediately, nevertheless, God responds in a manner that is always in our best interests. Any misunderstanding of this concept may lead to unnecessary hopelessness.

Daf Yomi Digest
Gemara Gem
“Davening in an audible tone”
Berachos 24

Faith and trust in God. I’ve said many times before, that it’s not easy. As we see in the example above, Judaism recognizes that the heart can grow faint and the will becomes weak when God seems to be silent. So too we Christians can feel that something is amiss with our prayers when God won’t turn to us and help us in our need and anguish. How many times have we felt abandoned and cried out, “Where is God?”

Is this all just a test, then? Is God being deliberately silent just to see how we’ll hold up under pressure. That seems kind of cruel, don’t you think? Is that all life is…a test?

This is why many people refuse to come to faith. It’s not because religion is “irrational” or “absolute” or “superstitious.” It’s because faith means you don’t have control of God.

That seems to also mean you don’t have control over your own life. When we say “God is in control,” we’re admitting that we aren’t. Depending on who you are and how to perceive the implications of that statement, it can be either comforting or horrifying. If you trust God implicitly, knowing that He loves you and desires only good for you, it is ultimately comforting to know that God is in control of the universe, rather than a bunch of capricious, double-minded, self-centered human beings. On the other hand, if self-determination and self-direction are the values you prize above all else, imagining yourself turning over everything to a distant, supernatural (and probably fictional) entity would feel like discovering that the pilot of the airplane you’re travelling in, 36,000 feet above the earth, is a chimpanzee.

You’d have absolutely no control over your fate and your doom would be completely assured, unless you could wrest the controls away from the simian and back into your own “competent” hands.

It is in the dark and empty watches of the night, when the voices are all stilled, and your only companion is your doubt, that who you really are in God is revealed. It is not actually a test anymore than any other challenge or frustrating experience is a test. It’s simply how life works. Some days are better than others and you feel the closeness of God as He seems to walk with you during every waking moment. Some nights are worse than others and it seems as if God is long gone from this mortal sphere, and you have been cruelly abandoned.

And even then, unless your faith and trust is totally exhausted and you walk away from God as you believe He has walked away from you, you still search the night for Him. You look for God in your dreams. You seek Him out in your fears. You hope He’ll appear with the dawn. You call out His name in a whisper.

If we were truly humble, we would not be forever searching higher paths on the mountaintops. We would look in the simple places, in the practical things that need to be done.

True, these are places in a world of falsehood. If the world only had a little more light, none of this would be necessary.

But the soul that knows its place knows that the great and lofty G‑d is not found at the summit of mountains, but in the simple act of lending a hand or a comforting word in a world of falsehood and delusions.

-Rabbi Tzvi Freeman
“The Path of the Humble”
Based on letters and talks of the Rebbe
Rabbi M. M. Schneerson
Chabad.org

And then you find Him when you are completely distracted by the needs of others. You find God in the simple acts of kindness you do every day. You discover your Maker in your gifts to the poor, or the smile on a grateful face. God finds you when you aren’t even looking for Him.

 

Torah Portion

Shoftim: Walk with Simplicity

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Be wholesome (‘tamim’) with G-d

–Deuteronomy 18:13

To be ‘tamim’ with G-d means: Walk with Him with simplicity and without guile. Do not seek to manipulate the future; rather, accept whatever He brings upon you wholeheartedly. Then, He will be with you and you will reap the rewards of His apportionment.

-Rashi’s commentary
as quoted from Chabad.org

Instead of complaining about someone’s behavior toward you, it is more constructive to work on your own behavior toward him.

Ignore another person’s grouchiness and anger, and speak cheerfully and with compassion. If you find this difficult, pretend that you are an actor on stage. Adopting this attitude can keep people from much needless quarreling and suffering. Do it consistently and you will see major improvements in their behavior toward you.

Be flexible. People differ greatly on what they evaluate as “positive,” and it is necessary to understand the unique needs of each person you’re dealing with. If one approach is unsuccessful, try other approaches. But keep trying.

-Rabbi Zelig Pliskin
Daily Lift #555
“Put On Your Best Act”
Aish.com

You may be wondering what all of the above has to do with this week’s Torah Portion Shoftim (Deuteronomy 16:18 – 21:9). We can see that Rashi has focused on a very small part of the reading and derived a very specific principle.

It’s also a principle that is very hard to live up to. As people of faith, we are tempted to “manipulate the future” all the time by asking, praying, and pleading to God for everything that we want and all that is important to us. That’s not a bad thing, but human beings can be very self-indulgent. We tend to want what we want when we want it and are rather disappointed with God when He doesn’t deliver the “goods” on time and in the way that we ordered them.

The same is true of our relationships with other people. As Rabbi Pliskin points out, when there is an “issue” between us and someone else, we almost invariably blame the other person for the problem. Most of the time, it never occurs to us to look in the mirror and see if the person staring back at us has anything to do with it…or everything to do with it.

If only we could stop ourselves and the events flowing around us and take a really good look at who we are and what’s going on. But then, isn’t that what the month of Elul is all about? OK, I understand that the practice of deep self-examination and taking a “spiritual inventory” during Elul is commonly associated with observant Jews as they approach Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, but I’ve also said that it wouldn’t hurt for a few Christians to take up the practice as well. Perhaps we would all discover that the source of whatever pains and sorrows and hurts we experience isn’t located outside of us at all.

When we are in pain, are frustrated, or angry, we blame God or we blame other people, or we blame the cruelty of the “generic” universe. Everything’s so complicated. There are too many rules. There’s no clear-cut guideline to tell us how to live our lives and be satisfied with what we’ve got.

Or is there?

He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God. –Micah 6:8 (ESV)

A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. –John 13:34 (ESV)

Ben Zoma would say…Who is rich? One who is satisfied with his lot. -from Pirkei Avot 4:1

HumbleGod is very clear in His intent. Jesus makes his meaning plain. At the core of what God wants and what He knows will satisfy us is not controversies and criticisms, not possessions or acquisitions, but rather to walk simply and humbly with our God and to do good to our fellow human beings. If your life is complicated and messy, it’s most likely not because of anyone else. Even if you’ve had a difficult life, if your family was abusive, if your school teachers were critical, if your church leaders were harsh, at some point as you become an adult, you must begin to cast off your chains or learn to be their victim forever.

Ironically, in order to remove the weight of our restraints and apply the principle of making our lives less of a burden, we have to do something we don’t always want to do. We have to work and work hard to take greater personal responsibility for who we are in our lives and in our faith:

If one wishes to add on more restrictions than the law requires, one may do so for oneself, but not [make such demands] of others. -Shulchan Aruch

Some people employ a double standard. One set of rules applies to themselves, and another to everyone else. The Shulchan Aruch, the standard authoritative compilation of Jewish law, accepts this policy – but on one condition: the more restrictive set of rules must apply to oneself, and the more lenient apply to other people.

Guidelines exist for many things, such as the percentage of income that one should give for tzedakah. Many tzaddikim, righteous people, retained only the barest minimum of their income for themselves, just enough to provide for their families, and gave everything else to the poor. However, they would never expect anyone else to follow their example, and some even forbade it.

Our minds are ingenious in concocting self-serving rationalizations. Sometimes we may have excellent reasons not to give more liberally to tzedakah, even if it is within the required amount. We may project into the future, worry about our economic security, and conclude that we should put more money away for a rainy day. Yet we often criticize people who we feel do not give enough to tzedakah.

We should be aware of such rationalizations and remember that the more demanding rules should apply to ourselves. If we are going to rationalize, let us rationalize in a way that gives the benefit of doubt to others.

Today I shall…

remember to be more demanding of myself than I am of others.

-Rabbi Abraham J. Twerski
“Growing Each Day, Elul 5”
Aish.com

There is no greater challenge than to seek God. But instead of looking to Heaven, or to your house of worship, or to the holy men, look within. See if you can discover the footsteps of your Master as you peer into your heart. If you can’t, perhaps it’s time to start a new journey and follow where Jesus is leading you.

Good Shabbos.