A Blind Man and a Horse

Our author loves parables and analogies - remember, Luzzatto was a playwright (see here, here and here) - and he uses them regularly in Mesillas Yesharim to great effect. In his first chapter on Zehirus the Ramchal utilizes two very different analogies to depict the unexamined life. The first is his own invention: a blind man walking along a riverbank. The second comes from the Navi: a horse plunging into battle (Yermiyah 8:6).

A blind man on a walk and a madly galloping horse. It would be hard to come up with two more diametrically opposed images, but somehow they both describe the same problem. How can this be?

A more basic question. Is a blind man really the ideal depiction of a person who lacks Zehirus?! No one walks more carefully than a blind man. The blind man's slow and deliberate steps would seem to be the ultimate illustration of Zehirus, not the lack thereof! Moreover, why wasn't the Navi's analogy of the horse sufficient? Why does the Ramchal need to add the blind man?

It should be obvious by now that Luzzatto is making two very different points here. First, he wants to let us know that our assumptions about Zehirus are false. It is insufficient to merely "be careful." As the very title of chapter one makes clear, man must know "his responsibilities in his world." You can walk through life as carefully as a blind man - every single step by the book - but if you are unaware or unmindful of the demands of your environment, your family and your social circle, then you lack Zehirus and are in peril of falling into oblivion. 

Back in the introduction, our author was outspoken in his criticism of those who focus solely on Talmud and Halacha and see no need to study Mussar. Here he derides them more subtly. Although every move of those Halachists is taken with the extreme care and trepidation of the blind, if they have never asked themselves uncomfortable questions about their personal obligations in their world, then they are far from true Zehirus. Their way of life is comparable to a blind man walking on the edge of a river. 

The Navi is describing an altogether different type of problem. A horse plunging into battle is very aware of his surroundings. He hears the screams, he sees the arrows and the spears, he knows he is charging straight into life-threatening danger and he is seized with terror, but yet he is powerless to change course for a rider drives him on with reigns and a whip. Some people are driven solely by their negative desires and character flaws and, despite their own better judgment, are as powerless to change course as a horse on the battlefield. 

Two different kinds of people, two different kinds of problems, but both lack Zehirus. Thankfully, there is a known cure. Keep reading!

(For an alternative approach to these two metaphors see this post.)

Honor Corrupts: A Classroom Discussion

In chapter 16, the Ramchal tells us that the Tahor is in danger of being seduced by honor. As he strives to perfect his Mitzvos, people will take notice and he will receive recognition. The Tahor may find himself enjoying the attention and the purity of his future Mitzvah performance will be jeopardized.

It all sounds simple enough, but Tehila S. raised an important point. Any interest in personal prestige should have been eradicated long ago in Nekius! Back in chapter eleven the Ramchal wrote: “It appropriate for the Naki to cleanse and totally purify himself of [interest in honor] – then he will succeed” (chap. 11). So why are we concerned that the Tahor will be motivated by honor? If he is, then not only isn’t he a Tahor, he’s not even a Naki! 

This is a truly excellent question. Nonetheless, two students came up with impressive answers. 

Miriam W. reminded us that the Tahor started off doing the Mitzvah לשמה, free of any self-interest. 

… But what requires deeper contemplation and greater effort is [preventing] the inclusion of forbidden [intent]. Sometimes a person sets out to perform a Mitzvah truly לשמה, because it is the decree of our Father in heaven, but yet he does not prevent other interests from entering into the equation; either that people should praise him or that he will receive reward for his act. Other times, even if he doesn't really intend for [people] to praise him, his enjoyment of the praise [he receives] will cause him to be more meticulous [in future performances of this Mitzvah]. This is akin to the story about the daughter of R. Chaninah ben Tradion. She had a graceful bearing when she walked, and when she heard [people] commenting, “How fine is the bearing of that girl!” she immediately became more meticulous. This addition was clearly born of the praise that she received. Even though the forbidden element is vanishingly small, an act with components like this in the mix is not perfectly pure. 

Chapter 16

R. Chaninah ben Tradion’s daughter didn't do anything wrong and the Talmud is not criticizing her. It is perfectly natural for people to become more conscientious when they are complimented. Nonetheless, the Tahor must battle this human weakness if he is to preserve the purity of his intent (cf. Ofek Institute, “The Complete Mesillat Yesharim,” pg. 182, note 14) 

Miriam used this point to answer Tehila’s question. Although the Naki has cleansed himself of the drive for כבוד and is above setting out in pursuit of it, nonetheless he is still human and will enjoy receiving praise for his Mitzvos. As the Ramchal wrote, this enjoyment endangers subsequent Mitzvah acts which may now lack the requisite perfection of intent. Thus, despite the fact that the Tahor is נקי and is not initially motivated by כבוד, he must still strive to maintain the purity of his Mitzvot. (For an deeper understanding of the Naki's weakness, see this post.) 

Talia S. came up with a different answer to Tehila's question; a compelling explanation based on the struggle between two different types of honor. In the words of the Ramchal, “It is impossible for him to be a faithful servant of his Master as long as he cares about his own honor, for his foolishness will require him to minimize Heaven’s honor” (chap. 11). Here we see two very different types of honor: the honor of man and the honor of Heaven. Although the honor of man presents a grave danger to spiritual health, the honor of heaven should obviously be encouraged and embraced. 

The authentic honor is true knowledge of the Torah, as [the sages] of blessed memory taught, “There is no honor other than Torah, as the verse states, ‘כבוד will be inherited by the wise’ (Mishlei 3:35)” (Avos 6:3). All else is nothing but imaginary and false honor, unhelpful hot air. It is appropriate for the נקי to cleanse and totally purify himself of it – then he will succeed”

Chapter 11

Now we understand, said Talia, why the טהור is struggling with כבוד issues. Back in נקיות he eradicated all interest in the false כבוד of the self, but now he is the recipient of a different kind of כבוד. He is being honored for his תורה and מצוות! This kind of כבוד is valid and the טהור is therefore in danger of confusing his own personal כבוד with the כבוד of Hashem. That is a new challenge he never dealt with before. (For a real-life example of this confusion, see this post.)

Truth be told, neither Miriam's nor Talia's explanations fully answer Tehila's question. The Ramchal clearly writes that we are also dealing here with a person in pursuit of personal honor. "Sometimes a person sets out to perform a Mitzvah truly לשמה, because it is the decree of our Father in heaven, but yet he does not prevent other interests from entering into the equation; either that people should praise him or that he will receive reward for his act" (ibid.). Here we find the Naki interested in honor even before he receives it! As Tehila asked, such a thing should not be possible.

With all due respect to Tehila, I believe her entire question is a mistake, founded on a prevalent, basic misconception about the book. People are complex, multidimensional beings, and the spiritual levels described by the Mesilas Yesharim are not all or nothing. A person can be Zahir in one area of life, Naki in another and a Chosid in a third. In fact, that is usually the case. Luzzatto knew that there would be many readers interested in working on the Tahara of their Mitzvos even though they were not yet Naki when it comes to כבוד. That is as it should be, and our understanding author addressed the issue and gave us much needed empathy and guidance.

Thank you Luzzatto!

Luzzatto Comes to Beis Yaakov

I was blessed with the high privilege of teaching Mesilas Yesharim in Beis Yaakov of Los Angeles last year. It was an extraordinary experience. Actually, it was a revolution. 

The girls of 11c embraced the Sefer. Every 45 minute class was a brainstorming session, with sharp questions, creative insights and new ways of understanding what it means to take Yiddishkeit seriously. We all grew in the process and BE"H we will continue to grow with the invaluable assistance of this great Sefer.

My only regret is that I failed to record the constant flow of חידושים. Readers will find several of my Beis Yaakov students quoted in recent posts. This will give you a taste of what occurred in our classroom conversations last year. But do keep in mind that it is only a small taste.    

Yasher Koach to all the students of the 2013 11c class of BYLA. Thank you for an unforgettable year.

Adam Reborn! (but still weak...)

In chapter 16 Luzzatto describes the exalted level of Tahara, Purity. The Tahor transcends all interest in pleasure, recognition and monetary gain and is motivated solely by the drive to serve God. He does Mitzvos לשמה, for their own sake, because כך גזר אבינו שבשמים, it is the decree of our Father in heaven. This results in actions of perfect purity, hence the label “Tahor.” 

My student Bracha S. wondered about the feasibility of Tahara. Earlier in the year, we learned a fundamental teaching of Reb Chaim Volozhiner. He writes in Nefesh HaChaim (1:6, second note) that before the original sin of Adam, evil did not exist within man. Left to his own devices, Adam would naturally and consistently do the right thing (cf. Ramban to Devarim 31:6). In this lofty spiritual state, the only way man could be persuaded to sin was through a seduction coming from outside of himself, i.e., the snake. 

Everything changed when Adam ate of the fruit of the עץ הדעת טוב ורע. The forbidden fruit brought evil into man, where it commingled with good. Ever since, writes Reb Chaim Volozhiner, it is virtually impossible for man to perform an act of perfect goodness or of perfect evil. No matter what we do, there are always elements of both good and evil blended into the act. 

Bracha pointed out that according to the Nefesh HaChaim, Tahara is an impossibility. If there is always some evil motivation in our behavior, then nothing we do is ever truly Tahor. 

It would appear that we have a fundamental debate here between R. Moshe Chaim Luzzatto and R. Chaim Volozhiner, but that can’t be right. R. Chaim Volozhiner’s Rebbe, the Vilna Gaon, was an avid student of Luzzatto’s Kabbalistic writings. It is also known that the Gaon particularly treasured the Mesilas Yesharim. R. Chaim Volozhiner would surely never disagree with Luzzatto. 

I would like to suggest a radical solution to this problem. In chapter ten Luzzatto writes that a Naki is “completely cleansed of any negative trait and any sin… the fire of physical desire has been extinguished from his heart…” In other words, the Naki has no interest in sin and will naturally always do the right thing. This is the level of Adam before the sin! Tahara may indeed be unachievable for man after the sin, but the Naki is no ordinary man. He is cleansed and transformed. For a Naki, Tahara is not only feasible; it is a natural outgrowth of his Nekius. 

Good evidence for this approach can be found in Perishus, the level right after Nekius. Luzzatto tells us that the reason it is so difficult to abstain from the physical pleasures is because we are seduced by the attractive appearance of things. “This seduction is what caused the original sin to occur, as the verse testifies, ‘The woman saw that the fruit was good to eat and it appeared desirous to the eyes…’ (Bereishis 3:6)” (Mesilas Yesharim, chap. 15). 

To our ears, this just sounds silly. Do we really need to cite biblical verses to explain why we enjoy indulging in the pleasures of life?! But Luzzatto is not speaking to us; he is speaking to the Naki. Cleansed of all interest in sin and lacking the inner drive of the pleasure seeker, it is hard to understand why Perishus would be a challenge for a Naki. That is why Luzzatto reminds us of what happened in the Garden. חוה was Naki, but nonetheless, she fell for the forbidden fruit. For no matter how Naki a person is on the inside, the eyes are constantly receiving stimuli from the outside. And human eyes are always in danger of being seduced by the beckoning pleasures of the garden. 

This approach also helps us appreciate an unusual piece of evidence found in chapter 16. Describing the challenge of Tahara, Luzzatto tells the story of R. Chaninah ben Tradion’s daughter. 

She had a graceful bearing when she walked, and when she heard [people] commenting, “How fine is the bearing of that girl!” she immediately became more meticulous. This addition was clearly born of the praise that she received. Even though the forbidden element is vanishingly small, an act with components like this in the mix is not perfectly pure. 

The daughter of the great Tanna was undoubtedly Naki in the sensitive areas of modesty and humility. Nonetheless, even the most righteous of women is not impervious to the impact of compliments. Just as external seductions cause the Naki to fail in Perishus, so too compliments can play with the mind and influence behavior, ruining the purity of our every act. 

Let the Naki beware!

Occupational Hazards of the Rabbinate

… But what requires deeper contemplation and greater effort is [preventing] the inclusion of forbidden [intent]. Sometimes a person sets out to perform a Mitzvah truly לשמה, because it is the decree of our Father in heaven, but yet he does not prevent other interests from entering into the equation; either that people should praise him or that he will receive reward for his act. Other times, even if he doesn’t really intend for [people] to praise him, his enjoyment of the praise [he receives] will cause him to be more meticulous [in future performances of this Mitzvah]… 

Mesilas Yesharim, Chapter 16

The human interest in honor and praise can derail the best of men, even when they set out to perform a מצוה לשמה! 

Although it is not a crime to lack Tahara (see beginning of chapter 13), it is a crime to pursue honor (see end of chapter 11). It turns out that the struggle to achieve higher spiritual levels opens wormholes that drag us back down to the lower levels. It’s kind of like Candy Land. No one said this was going to be easy. 

Perusing the Seforim stores in Yerushalayim after Pesach, I picked up a newly published volume of Rabbi Shlomo Wolbe’s letters. Here’s a gem I discovered this week which gives another example of the insidious nature of honor. The translation is mine.

ז' ניסן, תשמ"ו

To my dear illustrious friend, Rabbi … 

Shalom and many blessings! 

A heartfelt Mazal Tov on your appointment! May Hashem grant you success in returning many from their sins and drawing many close to real Torah and Mitzvos! I am delighted that you have found a place that gives you satisfaction – and in an area with Talmidei Chachomim. Certainly there is a lot of aggravation in being a rabbi, but nonetheless, a rabbi can accomplish a great deal. 

When I received your letter and the invitation to your installation, I was reminded of what I heard in the Mir: The Mashgiach זי"ע [Reb Yeruchum Levovitz] had set up a certain Talmid as a rabbi and he came to the Mashgiach to thank him. Our Teacher said to him: “The thanks will be that you won’t be a ‘Rabbi’!” His point was that the rabbinate is a dangerous office. Just as there are many “occupational hazards,” so too the rabbinate has its “occupational hazards”: protecting the so-called “honor of Torah” can bring a rabbi to seek honor and haughtiness – as if he is God’s right-hand man… Our Teacher told this student that he must be very wary of the negative side-effects which tend to develop in a rabbi…

Letters and Writings of the Mashgiach, Vol. II, letter 388, pgs. 138-139    

Misunderstood & Unpopular

The great classics of Jewish literature are owned by many and read by few. Often it’s because the original is in Arabic and the medieval Hebrew translations are equally unreadable. Sometimes the philosophical terminology is the killer. In the Mesilas Yesharim’s case, the reason is different. The book just turns people off.

The introduction is great; a fresh and ever-relevant indictment of our educational priorities. But then, halfway through chapter one, our author speaks of lofty ideals and loses his readers. Trying to suppress the thought that Luzzatto is hopelessly naïve, we close the book and give it new home on the bookcase – the top shelf. Thousands upon thousands of Mesilas Yesharims are thus doomed to spend the decades untouched and unread, trapped between a crumbling Kuzari and an inscrutable Morah Nevuchim.

It’s an unfair treatment of the Jewish “Common Sense” and it doesn’t have to be this way. I believe chapter one is simply being misread. Read correctly, it’s not depressing; it’s inspiring. But for chapter one to have the intended effect we have to learn to read it right.

Chapter one describes the world in unapologetic, absolute terms: The only good thing in life is closeness to God and everything else is utter nonsense; to pursue our natural desires is to abandon God; every situation in life is a divine test; the purpose of life is solely for earning a portion in the next world; our souls hate living in this physical realm, etc., etc. With statements such as these, it is easy to understand why so many copies are collecting dust. Readers naturally assume that this is a book for the pious Tzaddikim of yesteryear and has little to offer ordinary folk – but they could not be more wrong. If, instead of closing the book, they had read on to chapter two they would have quickly recognized their error, for the truth is quite the opposite: Luzzatto expects his readership to be at the very bottom of the spiritual ladder. To speak plainly, he actually expects many of them to be low-lives. 

So why all the ultra-frum statements of chapter one?

The answer is that Luzzatto is not talking here about lifestyle; he is talking about faith. The Torah is founded on certain principles which define the ultimate purpose of life and before we can embark on our journey of spiritual growth we must understand these principles and get clarity on where we are headed. This is what Luzzatto is doing in chapter one: defining the destination.

R. Pinchas ben Yoir taught us that everything begins with Torah – "Torah leads to Zehirus" – but strangely enough, Luzzatto doesn’t seem to spend much time explaining what that means or how it happens. Maybe it is self-evident. Or maybe Luzzatto actually does address it – in chapter one. Torah leads to Zehirus because fixing and elevating our Jewish selves begins with understanding the Torah’s basic teachings about the purpose and meaning of our lives.  (Heard from my student Talia S.; cf. the beginning of chapter four and this post.)

As we stand at the beginning of the book and the beginning of our journey, there is obviously no expectation that our behavior is already in accord with the Torah’s demanding value system. This is not a book for Tzaddikim; it's a guide for how to become a Tzaddik. (That is, chapters 1-13. See the beginning of chapter fourteen and this post.) But before we can embark on becoming a Tzaddik, we first must have clarity on what we believe.

In the first part of Mesilas Yesharim, Luzzatto addresses not the Tzaddik but the everyman, and he starts at the very beginning, educating us about the ultimate purpose of our lives. This is not מוסר; this is אמונה. There is no cause for discouragement nor is there cause to abandon the book before it begins.

(A Jew should be a man of faith, but not a theologian. Despite our belief in the sublime reward for Mitzvos, the Mishnah instructs us to not to think about it. "Do not serve the Master for the purpose of receiving reward" (Avos 1:3). The powerful and fundamental principles of faith - from belief in an Infinite Being to the World to Come to Mashiach - serve as foundations for our lives in the here and now. Foundations are critical, but it is unnecessary and unhealthy to obsess over them. This is what our author is telling us in the opening line of chapter one: "The foundation of Chassidus and the root of divine service is to know..." Faith is a foundation and a root. It keeps us standing tall, so build it deep and solid. And then keep it underground.)
 

Viewed this way, chapter one is transformed from a disheartening screed into an inspirational declaration of faith. It informs us about the extraordinary potential of our lives, it gives direction to our spiritual striving, and it instructs us to settle for nothing less than the presence of God Himself. And one more thing – it also motivates us to keep on reading!