Why does Aharon, who the Torah itself describes as a righteous prophet, require extra encouragement in regards to a sacrifice he brings but does not benefit from? Why do we find this type of approach in regards to other areas as well? Why does the soldier going out to battle, who our sages say is specifically someone without sin, have a process for marrying the beautiful woman on the battle field? What is the correct approach to dealing with our human frailties?
Find out in this week's parsha podcast.
Running time: 23:44
Showing posts with label mussar. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mussar. Show all posts
Friday, March 23, 2018
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Mussar today
Guest post by R' Alan Morinis
Rabbi Shlomo Wolbe published his great work of Mussar, “Alei Shur,” in the 1990s. This great scion of the Mussar yeshivas of Lithuania passed away in 2005. These two facts serve to underline how recently we had a Mussar master living among us. And because he lived so recently, he was aware of the modern world and of us who inhabit it.
Another factor that contributed to Rabbi Wolbe’s sensitivity to contemporary life is revealed in the fact that the name his parents gave him at his birth was August Wilhelm Wolbe. He was raised in a non-observant Jewish home in Berlin, and he had a secular education at the University of Berlin (1930-1933). As his religious and spiritual life developed, he eventually found his way to the Mir yeshiva in Poland, where he became a student of the Mussar mashgiach [supervisor] there, Rabbi Yerucham Levovitz.
When I study “Alei Shur” and I read Rabbi Wolbe’s teachings, I hear a voice that understands people today, people like you and me. I want to share one teaching that I think makes this point very clearly, and that highlights how modern Mussar differs from the millennium of the tradition that came before.
Rabbi Wolbe wrote one chapter in “Alei Shur” titled, “Difference between the Generations” and he identifies right in the first sentence that he is concerned with differences as they affect the learning and practice of Mussar. “Until the Holocaust, European Jewry were people more exacting in knowledge and more self-assessing in regard to problems of living.” He acknowledges that the material conditions of life were much worse in those times, but they were an incomparably spiritual generation, he says. We enjoy an improved economic and social situation, but we are much lower in our level of spiritual elevation and greatness in Torah.
Rabbi Wolbe accounts for the difference: we have no personal experience of what true greatness looks or feels like. “When today we speak of the elevated status [romemut] of a human being, it is very hard for students to understand the meaning of the words; the role-models of true elevation are few, and most of those who study Torah have not met close-up the remaining few great ones among us.”
So we live in a materially wealthy but spiritually impoverished age in which role models of spiritual greatness are not readily available to us. Rav Wolbe also says: we are not as tough as previous generations. We can’t take criticism. When a person of this generation becomes aware of personal imperfections and failings, Rav Wolbe says, that softness translates into a tendency to get depressed and even to despair. Later in the book he elaborates to say that this is a pitfall of Mussar practice in general—as you learn Mussar and come to see how far from the ideal you may be in certain ways, your mind sees only the deficiency. What it can’t see is the effect your study and practice is having on the sub-conscious. So the picture the mind sees is unbalanced in favor of the deficiency, which can lead to unwarranted despair.
The previous generation was tougher and could bear the bad news that they were not perfect, without being crushed by this discovery. We live in a world in which a flimsy pretence of getting it right is preferred to the deep and obvious truth that life is a journey of growing and we all have some growing to do.
Here Rabbi Wolbe makes a programmatic point, which I find very helpful, even essential. Before anyone starts talking about where he or she has room to grow in his or her inner life, or to use even more direct language, where he or she detects shortcomings, that person needs to spend a good, long period internalizing the notion of romemut—the inherently spiritually elevated status of every human being, including himself or herself. “The beginning of the way of anyone who learns Mussar today needs to be: learn the elevatedness of a human. He must climb the ladder that leads to awareness of greatness.”
This teaching is specifically aimed at us who are living in this generation. Rabbi Wolbe wants us to understand that we have no solid basis for learning Mussar and working on ourselves if we have not internalized the profound truth of the incomparable greatness of the human being, and that that picture applies to each of us. Only once that knowledge and awareness has become a permanently installed backdrop to all we do, think, and feel are we then prepared to do our inner work. That background knowledge assures that when we become aware that we could be more generous, or that we are not as kind as we fancied ourselves to be, or that we have a tendency to be lazy, we are not going to be devastated. Recognition of our imperfections figures against a general awareness that we are equipped with so many resources, we are so infused with virtues, and we have so many capabilities. That gives us the conviction that we have the foundation from which to deal with our spiritual curriculum, as it becomes revealed to us.
Rav Wolbe is steering us away from any tendency to slip toward distress or despair when we discover our imperfections. The chapter following the one in which he gives the teaching on romemut is called “Without sadness!” Starting Mussar learning by developing a firm appreciation for the lofty nature of a human being, including ourselves, deflects from any possibility of sadness or despair, he writes. In fact, it leads us in the opposite direction: it leads to joy.
It may seem incomprehensible, maybe even perverse, to imagine someone feeling joy when he or she comes face to face with the reality of his or her own arrogance, or stinginess, or worry. But I have known that feeling. The revelation of my own shortcomings is not a symptom of failure, but rather of victory. Those deficiencies were there in me all along, regardless of whether or not I was aware of them. Now I have become aware, and that is a far preferable situation to being unaware. I feel joy because that element of my reality is no longer unconscious. Only once I am aware of the real nature of who I am can I bring into play all the remarkable and elevated qualities that we human beings possess (me among them), to put them to work as aids to guiding my growth. That is a real cause for joy, because knowing where I have fallen short gives me the knowledge I need to take a journey of growth. And now I can.
Rabbi Shlomo Wolbe published his great work of Mussar, “Alei Shur,” in the 1990s. This great scion of the Mussar yeshivas of Lithuania passed away in 2005. These two facts serve to underline how recently we had a Mussar master living among us. And because he lived so recently, he was aware of the modern world and of us who inhabit it.
Another factor that contributed to Rabbi Wolbe’s sensitivity to contemporary life is revealed in the fact that the name his parents gave him at his birth was August Wilhelm Wolbe. He was raised in a non-observant Jewish home in Berlin, and he had a secular education at the University of Berlin (1930-1933). As his religious and spiritual life developed, he eventually found his way to the Mir yeshiva in Poland, where he became a student of the Mussar mashgiach [supervisor] there, Rabbi Yerucham Levovitz.
When I study “Alei Shur” and I read Rabbi Wolbe’s teachings, I hear a voice that understands people today, people like you and me. I want to share one teaching that I think makes this point very clearly, and that highlights how modern Mussar differs from the millennium of the tradition that came before.
Rabbi Wolbe wrote one chapter in “Alei Shur” titled, “Difference between the Generations” and he identifies right in the first sentence that he is concerned with differences as they affect the learning and practice of Mussar. “Until the Holocaust, European Jewry were people more exacting in knowledge and more self-assessing in regard to problems of living.” He acknowledges that the material conditions of life were much worse in those times, but they were an incomparably spiritual generation, he says. We enjoy an improved economic and social situation, but we are much lower in our level of spiritual elevation and greatness in Torah.
Rabbi Wolbe accounts for the difference: we have no personal experience of what true greatness looks or feels like. “When today we speak of the elevated status [romemut] of a human being, it is very hard for students to understand the meaning of the words; the role-models of true elevation are few, and most of those who study Torah have not met close-up the remaining few great ones among us.”
So we live in a materially wealthy but spiritually impoverished age in which role models of spiritual greatness are not readily available to us. Rav Wolbe also says: we are not as tough as previous generations. We can’t take criticism. When a person of this generation becomes aware of personal imperfections and failings, Rav Wolbe says, that softness translates into a tendency to get depressed and even to despair. Later in the book he elaborates to say that this is a pitfall of Mussar practice in general—as you learn Mussar and come to see how far from the ideal you may be in certain ways, your mind sees only the deficiency. What it can’t see is the effect your study and practice is having on the sub-conscious. So the picture the mind sees is unbalanced in favor of the deficiency, which can lead to unwarranted despair.
The previous generation was tougher and could bear the bad news that they were not perfect, without being crushed by this discovery. We live in a world in which a flimsy pretence of getting it right is preferred to the deep and obvious truth that life is a journey of growing and we all have some growing to do.
Here Rabbi Wolbe makes a programmatic point, which I find very helpful, even essential. Before anyone starts talking about where he or she has room to grow in his or her inner life, or to use even more direct language, where he or she detects shortcomings, that person needs to spend a good, long period internalizing the notion of romemut—the inherently spiritually elevated status of every human being, including himself or herself. “The beginning of the way of anyone who learns Mussar today needs to be: learn the elevatedness of a human. He must climb the ladder that leads to awareness of greatness.”
This teaching is specifically aimed at us who are living in this generation. Rabbi Wolbe wants us to understand that we have no solid basis for learning Mussar and working on ourselves if we have not internalized the profound truth of the incomparable greatness of the human being, and that that picture applies to each of us. Only once that knowledge and awareness has become a permanently installed backdrop to all we do, think, and feel are we then prepared to do our inner work. That background knowledge assures that when we become aware that we could be more generous, or that we are not as kind as we fancied ourselves to be, or that we have a tendency to be lazy, we are not going to be devastated. Recognition of our imperfections figures against a general awareness that we are equipped with so many resources, we are so infused with virtues, and we have so many capabilities. That gives us the conviction that we have the foundation from which to deal with our spiritual curriculum, as it becomes revealed to us.
Rav Wolbe is steering us away from any tendency to slip toward distress or despair when we discover our imperfections. The chapter following the one in which he gives the teaching on romemut is called “Without sadness!” Starting Mussar learning by developing a firm appreciation for the lofty nature of a human being, including ourselves, deflects from any possibility of sadness or despair, he writes. In fact, it leads us in the opposite direction: it leads to joy.
It may seem incomprehensible, maybe even perverse, to imagine someone feeling joy when he or she comes face to face with the reality of his or her own arrogance, or stinginess, or worry. But I have known that feeling. The revelation of my own shortcomings is not a symptom of failure, but rather of victory. Those deficiencies were there in me all along, regardless of whether or not I was aware of them. Now I have become aware, and that is a far preferable situation to being unaware. I feel joy because that element of my reality is no longer unconscious. Only once I am aware of the real nature of who I am can I bring into play all the remarkable and elevated qualities that we human beings possess (me among them), to put them to work as aids to guiding my growth. That is a real cause for joy, because knowing where I have fallen short gives me the knowledge I need to take a journey of growth. And now I can.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Economics touching home
This past Shabbos, my rav shared a thought which I would like to share with you as well.
He was speaking about the fact that many people are currently facing financial difficulty due to the current economic crisis. What should the approach be for those who aren't as affected toward those who are more affected?
We have an example from Yakov avinu. There was a great famine in Eretz Yisrael, but the meforshim explain that Yakov and his family were not affected by it. Nevertheless, Yakov sent his sons down to Egypt to procure provisions, saying, "למה תתראו" - "Why should we draw the attention of those around us?"
When others are in financial distress and do not have the means to live by a higher standard, it is at that time that those who may still have the means need to exercise their sensitivity. This is something that each person needs to judge for themselves, but if, for example, one is accustomed to always having something noticably new for the Yom Tov season, one must be aware of attracting the attention of those who used to be able to do the same, but no longer can. This is not so much to prevent jealousy, more to increase sensitivity and being נושא בעול עם חבירו - lightening others' load by taking on some of it as well.
May Hashem help us and provide us with all our needs.
He was speaking about the fact that many people are currently facing financial difficulty due to the current economic crisis. What should the approach be for those who aren't as affected toward those who are more affected?
We have an example from Yakov avinu. There was a great famine in Eretz Yisrael, but the meforshim explain that Yakov and his family were not affected by it. Nevertheless, Yakov sent his sons down to Egypt to procure provisions, saying, "למה תתראו" - "Why should we draw the attention of those around us?"
When others are in financial distress and do not have the means to live by a higher standard, it is at that time that those who may still have the means need to exercise their sensitivity. This is something that each person needs to judge for themselves, but if, for example, one is accustomed to always having something noticably new for the Yom Tov season, one must be aware of attracting the attention of those who used to be able to do the same, but no longer can. This is not so much to prevent jealousy, more to increase sensitivity and being נושא בעול עם חבירו - lightening others' load by taking on some of it as well.
May Hashem help us and provide us with all our needs.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Swallowing pride
Guest post by Daniel
My ga'ava (pride) got the best of me today.
I called my family to wish them mazal tov on their recent simcha. And the first thing that came out of my mouth was, "Why didn't anyone call and tell me! I had to hear the news from a person who heard from someone else over the internet!" So much for wishing "mazal tov."
In parshas Bo, Hashem says to Pharaoh, "Until when will you refuse to be humbled before Me?" (Shemos 10:3)
The Mizrachi and Sifesi Chachamim comment that "humbled" here could have been interpreted as "afflicted before Me" or "subjugate yourself before Me." However, Hashem did not want to afflict nor subjugate Pharaoh. The plagues were intended to humble Pharoah, which is why Rashi uses the word "humbled."
Pharaoh is the epitome of arrogance. Pharoah the arrogant said, "the Nile is mine and I have formed it for myself." (Yechezkel 29:3).
The plagues are sent to humble this creature who represents complete arrogance and pride. Yet what did it take to bring him down, to bring down the arrogance and pride? It took great wonders and miracles - all of the plagues and the splitting of the sea!
With this in mind, it becomes easier (at least for me) to forgive myself, instead of beat myself, for slipping in the daily struggle with my yetzer hara over this matter. Only when I'm at peace with myself do I stand a chance of overcoming my yetzer. And after all, Hashem is forgiving me, so shouldn't I?
Rav Kook zt"l said:
“The man who constantly frets over his own sins and those of the world should constantly forgive himself and the world.
By doing so he will draw forth forgiveness and the light of kindness…and bring joy to G-d and man…And he will earn the blessing reserved for Abraham: “there is no generation without one like Abraham.”
(Erpalei Tohar, 53-4)
In my experience, even just remaining silent in the face of my pride requires great mesiras nefesh (self-sacrifice). And it is mesiras nefesh that has always been the source of our People's redemption. May the Redemption come speedily in our days.
My ga'ava (pride) got the best of me today.
I called my family to wish them mazal tov on their recent simcha. And the first thing that came out of my mouth was, "Why didn't anyone call and tell me! I had to hear the news from a person who heard from someone else over the internet!" So much for wishing "mazal tov."
In parshas Bo, Hashem says to Pharaoh, "Until when will you refuse to be humbled before Me?" (Shemos 10:3)
The Mizrachi and Sifesi Chachamim comment that "humbled" here could have been interpreted as "afflicted before Me" or "subjugate yourself before Me." However, Hashem did not want to afflict nor subjugate Pharaoh. The plagues were intended to humble Pharoah, which is why Rashi uses the word "humbled."
Pharaoh is the epitome of arrogance. Pharoah the arrogant said, "the Nile is mine and I have formed it for myself." (Yechezkel 29:3).
The plagues are sent to humble this creature who represents complete arrogance and pride. Yet what did it take to bring him down, to bring down the arrogance and pride? It took great wonders and miracles - all of the plagues and the splitting of the sea!
With this in mind, it becomes easier (at least for me) to forgive myself, instead of beat myself, for slipping in the daily struggle with my yetzer hara over this matter. Only when I'm at peace with myself do I stand a chance of overcoming my yetzer. And after all, Hashem is forgiving me, so shouldn't I?
Rav Kook zt"l said:
“The man who constantly frets over his own sins and those of the world should constantly forgive himself and the world.
By doing so he will draw forth forgiveness and the light of kindness…and bring joy to G-d and man…And he will earn the blessing reserved for Abraham: “there is no generation without one like Abraham.”
(Erpalei Tohar, 53-4)
In my experience, even just remaining silent in the face of my pride requires great mesiras nefesh (self-sacrifice). And it is mesiras nefesh that has always been the source of our People's redemption. May the Redemption come speedily in our days.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Fill in the blanks
Guest post by Daniel
A teacher I had in yeshiva once said to me that "nothing the Jews do right according to Torah can be used against them by the enemies of Israel."
i.e. That which klal Yisroel fails to do properly can be used against them by the enemies of Israel.
This is reflected in the Kinnos liturgy from Tisha b'Av:
What can we learn, as a klal, from Hamas' war tactics?
Fill in the blanks.
Fill in the blanks.
I mean, we need to really fill in the blanks.
A teacher I had in yeshiva once said to me that "nothing the Jews do right according to Torah can be used against them by the enemies of Israel."
i.e. That which klal Yisroel fails to do properly can be used against them by the enemies of Israel.
This is reflected in the Kinnos liturgy from Tisha b'Av:
"We have been made into slaves
Because we did not follow the commandment to release slaves on time.
We pay with our very lives for our bread
Because we skipped over the hands of the poor amongst us.
The women of Zion do they torture
Because the wife of our fellow we have defiled and adultered."
What can we learn, as a klal, from Hamas' war tactics?
Fill in the blanks.
In Gaza,
Our soldiers are being drawn into booby-trapped homes,
Because we...
Our soldiers are being lured into booby-trapped schools,
Because we...
Our soldiers are being chased by suicide bombers,
Because we...
Our civilians are being bombarded with rockets ("words" are likened to "arrows"),
Because we...
Our soldiers are threatened with kidnapping,
Because we...
They use underground tunnels carved out of Eretz HaKodesh (the Holy Land),
Because we...
Fill in the blanks.
I mean, we need to really fill in the blanks.
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