Wednesday, May 28, 2008


(Numbers 1:1-4:20)
The story is told of the great 19th century yeshiva in Europe called Novardok, where the students were known for their great humility. To reach such levels, they would sit for 30 minutes each morning in the study hall, rocking back and forth, chanting the mantra, "I am nothing, I am nothing."
One morning, a new student arrives at the yeshiva, and upon entering the study hall, is surprised to find hundreds of students muttering, "I am nothing." He checks the sign outside the door to make sure he has the right place, and then figures he might as well go in and join them. He finds an empty seat, sits down, and begins rocking back and forth, chanting, "I am nothing, I am nothing." Suddenly the student seated next to him turns and says: "The nerve of you! I was here an entire year before I was nothing!"
* * *
The Midrash says that when God was preparing to give the Torah, all the mountains stepped forward and declared why they thought the Torah should be given on them. "I am the highest mountain," said one. "No," said another, "I am the steepest mountain and therefore the Torah should be given on me."
One by one, they all stated their claims. But in the end, God chose Mount Sinai - not because it was the tallest or the grandest (because it's not, as anyone who's toured the Sinai Desert will attest), but because, says the Midrash, it was the most humble.
What is this notion of "humility" and what does it have to do with Torah?
First, let's clarify what humility is NOT. Humility does not mean a meek reluctance to speak up or be assertive. Humility is not slouching your shoulders and having low self-esteem. The Torah (Numbers 12:3) refers to Moses as "the most humble person who ever lived" -- and yet he aggressively confronts Pharaoh, fights a war against Amalek, and stands up to castigate the Jewish people.
* * *
Humility is to know one's place. In this week's Parsha, the Torah describes the arrangement of the 12 Tribes in the Israelite camp. After a long description of who will travel first, and who will travel last, the Torah says: "And the Jewish people did exactly as they were instructed" (Numbers 1:54).
What's the big deal that everyone camped where they were supposed to? The Midrash explains that when God suggested the arrangement, Moses began to complain, saying, "Now there will be disputes between the tribes." Moses reasoned that once he starts specifying who travels in the East and who travels in the West, who is in front and who is in back, people will start arguing. If the tribe of Yehudah is told to travel in the East, they will say they want to travel in the South, and so forth with each of the tribes.
God tells Moses: Years earlier, at Jacob's funeral, his 12 sons carried the coffin. The way the sons were arranged around the coffin is the same way the tribes will be arranged in the camp today. In this way, everyone is already clear as to his proper place. So don't worry, God tells Moses, because when someone knows their place, there is inevitably peace and calm.
This applies to our relationship with God as well. The higher a person becomes spiritually, the more humble he becomes. As we get closer to God, we become more realistic about our own limitations, vulnerability and mortality. We internalize the reality that every human's position is tenable and only God is eternal.
Moses was called "the most humble" because when he stood before God he knew his place. Anything else precludes room for God to fit in. That's why the Talmud likens arrogance to idol worship; both push away the presence of God.
* * *
In the secular world, the biggest personalities are usually the most arrogant. Picture the scene: A movie star walks into a party -- strutting, cocky, head raised. His mannerisms shout: "I am great and I don't need you or anybody else." The room is silent with awe. Charisma!
Judaism says this is counterfeit charisma.
True humility means living with the reality that nothing matters except doing the right thing. The humble person is not dependent on the opinion of others. Because sometimes doing the right thing is popular (and consistent with one's ego needs), and sometimes it's not. But the humble person can set his ego aside, if need be, in order to consistently do the right thing.
An arrogant person, on the other hand, is not con-cerned about right and wrong -- only about himself and how well things will turn out for him. He can appear to be smooth on the surface, but he's really just manipulating everything around him to suit his self-centered needs.
"Arrogance" = I'm all that counts.
"Humility" = What's greater than me is what counts.
In actuality, it is humility which guarantees charisma! The humble person has the ability to rise above his self-contained narcissistic envelope and embrace those around him. Since he confidently knows his place, he can leave space for others without having an ego crisis. He honors others and helps them find their place, too.
Isn't that true charisma?!
* * *
Humility is the ability to be objective about one's own position vis-a-vis everyone else. If I am in the position to lead, then I should lead. And if not, I should defer. I must know where I stand, and not take undo liberties. If I am in the presence of someone more knowledgeable, I should think twice before speaking. There is nothing more annoying than an accountant standing in a roomful of doctors and pontificating on medical science.
Rabbi Simcha Bunim of Pshischa (19th century Europe) always carried two slips of paper -- one in the right pocket and one in the left. On one paper was written the Talmudic statement, "The entire world was created just for me" (Sanhedrin 38a). On the other paper was written the words of Abraham, "I am but dust and ashes" (Genesis 18:27). In this way, he was reminded that there are times to step forward, and times to step back.
* * *
Take for example Rabbi Moshe Feinstein zt"l, the leader of American Jewry for much of the 20th century. In the introduction to Iggress Moshe, his monumental compendium of responsa, Rabbi Feinstein writes: "I would not have volunteered for the job of leading the Jewish people. But since this is the role that God has selected for me, I must accept it willingly."
One day in the study hall, a visitor picked up the pay phone, and the voice on the other end asked to speak with Moshe Feinstein. The visitor then walked into the study hall and began shouting: "Moishy! Phone call for Moishy!" Incredibly, he was using an informal nickname for the great sage! Rabbi Feinstein calmly raised his hand and graciously accepted the phone.
Rabbi Feinstein's sister was once asked, "What makes your brother so special?" She answered: "What makes my brother special is that he never looks at himself as being so special."
* * *
So how do we achieve humility? The first thing a Jew does upon awakening in the morning is to say the Modeh Ani prayer: "I acknowledge you, God, for graciously returning my soul for yet another day. Thank you!"
Step One to humility is to put our relationship with God into perspective. We feel the "We," rather than the self-indulgent, negative energy. We emerge more relaxed, calm and flexible. And this in turn trickles down to all our interpersonal relationships: business partnership, marriage, community and nation-building.
Step Two to humility is found in the opening verse of this week's parsha. "And God spoke to Moses in the Sinai Desert" (Numbers 1:1). The Sages ask a fundamental question: Why was the Torah given in a desert? Because a desert is empty. What this means is that to acquire Torah -- to receive God's wisdom -- we must first be willing to open up space inside.
The Maharal (16th century Prague) explains that the only way to teach anything is to first get the student to ask a question. Because a question creates a lack and a need -- a space that the answer can then come and fill. But without first a question, there is no room for the answer.
In this time of the Shavuot holiday and reliving the Sinai experience, the message for us is to know our place, make some space, and let the truth of God and His Torah enter deep inside.
Shabbat Shalom,Rabbi Shraga Simmons


My Plagues To Your Heart

"... at this time I will send all My plagues to your heart... so that you [will] know that there is none like Me in all the earth. For at any time I [could] have put forth My hand and... struck you and your people with [a] plague and you [would] have been wiped from the earth. And yet, for this [purpose] I have caused you to stand, so as to show you My power, and for the sake of declaring My Name in all the earth...." Sh'mot 9:14-16
Adonai makes Himself known by allowing us to be part of His plans. He makes Himself known by setting His people apart, giving us a platform from which to shine. But He also makes Himself known by raising up and setting apart the wicked—not so they may triumph, but so that He may make an example of them. Adonai causes His enemies to stand "so as to show... [His] power, and for the sake of declaring [His] Name in all the earth."
For all time, the Mitz'riy (Egyptians) stand as an example for those who would presume to oppose the will of G-d. Let us, therefore, receive the warning in earnest and consider how we might fare should our hearts be hardened to the G-d of Yis'rael. For the sons of men, all Adonai has ever wanted was for us to know Him. May we know Him, then, not by His wrath, but by the patience and mercy He constantly displays... even as we constantly seem to forget that He alone is G-d.

That You may be known, Adonai, display Your glory and greatness! I praise You, Lord, for there truly is none like You in all the earth. Thank You, Hashem, for holding back Your hand, even though I am constantly taking You for granted. Show me Your ways, Adonai, that I may know You more, and never forget that You are G-d. I bless You, mighty one of Yis'rael, who sets apart the wicked and the righteous for the glory of Your great Name...
Ref. Messianic Devotional