Nedivut - Generosity: Mussar Thoughts on the Eve of #GivingTuesday

Thanksgiving was a welcome diversion from the world! It was great to retreat to a special place with our family. It was delicious to step back from the news (for the most part), the challenges our world faces, and to face one another for a few days. What a treat to gather with three generations for food, fun and lots of laughter. Now that Thanksgiving weekend is receding, our secular holiday calendar has taken over. “Black Friday” was hard to miss, though I found that by staying in our retreat spot I was able to ignore it to a great extent. Now that I have returned home, and now that I have returned to my inbox, it’s nigh impossible to ignore the tidal wave of messages – either trying to lure me on this “cyber-Monday” or calling out to me as tomorrow, the much heralded “Giving Tuesday” arrives. Of course, with the end of the secular year in sight, many are focused on those gifts we typically make at years’ end so as to maximize the tax benefits of giving. Last year’s Tax Bill changed the impact of our charitable gifts on our tax filings. How that really plays remains to

be seen.

But now seems a good time to reflect on a middah (soul trait) from the Mussar tradition on which I am currently working with one of my Mussar groups. Several of the groups with whom I am working are “advanced groups,” in that they have been meeting for several years.  Part of what I really enjoy about my work with these groups is their thirst for in broadening our Mussar horizons as we venture into the exploration of and practice with middot which are not typically in the basic curriculum of beginning groups. For me, the challenge to expand my repertoire, study middot and develop materials for these groups is nourishing. It is expanding my own soul-curriculum, and I love it!

One of my groups chose Nedivut/Generosity for this year’s journey. While I had studied the classic Mussar text, Orchot Tzaddikim (Ways of the Righteous – an anonymous text generally thought to originate in the 15^th or 16^th century) and its chapter on this middah about two years ago with my personal hevruta partner of many years, studying and teaching are two different processes. I have always loved that in the world of Hebrew grammar the Hebrew word for teaching, l’lameyd is a more intensive verb form of the word “to learn” – lilmod. Ever since I first began teaching, during my high school years, when I served as the Music teacher in my home congregation’s all-volunteer Religious School, I have never forgotten that relationship between learning and teaching. It continues to inspire and guide me.

As I think about Nedivut, I am reminded of a teaching from Rav Moshe Leib of Sassov (1745–1807, a disciple of the early Hasidic Master, Rabbi Dov Ber of Mezeritch.) The story is told that Rav Moshe once  asked a miserly person: “What is the difference between looking through a window and looking at a mirror?” Rav Moshe then explained, “When you look through a window you see other people, but when you look at a mirror you see only yourself. And why? Are they not both sheets of glass? The difference is that a lining made of silver blocks the view through the mirror.” That silver, the Rav teaches, is like the silver of our material wealth. He challenges us to consider in what ways our own materials goods and monetary wealth prevent us from seeing the world around us, and other people in our world.  As we step into a season when many of us do a substantive portion of our charitable giving, it’s a good question to ask ourselves. The world around us is filled with sorrow and brokenness. While giving tzedakah is not the only way in which we should engage with repairing our world and helping others, it is a part of our responsibility.

The 20th-century Mussar master, Rav Eliyahu Dessler taught, “That which we give to another person is never lost.” Through our acts of generosity, we are not simply giving up what we have. We are redistributing the stuff of our world so as to have a positive impact beyond ourselves and our family. If we are making a positive difference in the world and the lives of others (which is hopefully our intention when we give) we should not view what we have given through Nedivut as lost. Perhaps we can see it as having found a place or a life in which what we have given can have even greater impact.

In the chapter on Nedivut in Orchot Tzaddikim, which I mentioned above we read: “Our Sages of blessed memory have stated that the trait of nedivut/generosity resides in habit. One is not called generous until one becomes accustomed to giving, in every time and season, and according to one's ability. For one who gives to a deserving person 1,000 gold pieces at once is not as generous as one who gives 1,000 gold pieces one by one, each gold piece to an appropriate recipient. One who gives 1,000 gold pieces all at once is seized with a fit of generosity that afterwards departs.”  I do not read the teaching of Orchot Tzaddikim as discouraging larger gifts. The teaching is encouraging us to develop the trait of nedivut ha-lev – “a generous heart.” We should work on ourselves so that we are accustomed to giving, not just on one day a year, or in one season of the year. Indeed, the goal is for us to make nedivut and tzedakah a regular part of our lives, week in and week out, in all seasons. That is certainly a reflection for each of us as #GivingTuesday arrives.  

Finding Balance

Thanksgiving is peeking around the corner. The hours of daylight are dwindling. We know well that this is part of a cycle. Yet, I also feel as if the darkness which surrounds us is growing in more than just the natural world around me. With last week’s elections mostly in the rearview mirror, I had hoped the tenor of our national discourse might die down a bit. Alas, we live in a world in which events – both those resulting from human actions, as well as what our insurance policies label as “acts of God” come in a seemingly never-ending stream.

I keep reminding myself that this Shabbat will mark just three weeks since the horrific shooting at the Tree of Life congregation in Pittsburgh. That nightmare thrust not only the Pittsburgh community into darkness. A shroud descended on Jewish communities throughout our country. Judging from the kindness and comfort of neighbors, friends and the communities which surround us, the darkness was felt far beyond the boundaries of our Jewish communities. And dark events have continued: shootings in numerous settings and communities, the ongoing fires in California, more revelation of anti-Semitic incidents, the ever-present political noise, and so much more.

In the weeks since Pittsburgh, I have found the conversation and mood in the various Mussar groups with which I work around Boston deepening. The groups involve some 85 or so participants. There is seems to me, a shared sense that our study and practice of Mussar – the Jewish spiritual practice of character development and moral improvement -- has taken on a new urgency and a deeper purpose. I know that for me, my personal journey into Mussar study and practice has been a source of grounding in a world which it can be so hard to maintain a sense of balance. To paraphrase my teacher Alan Morinis, the founder of The Mussar Institute, the purpose of Mussar practice is to help individuals deepen their understanding of the ways of the soul, and to guide them in overcoming obstacles which keep them from attaining a sense of inner wholeness (shleymut) and holiness (kedushah). 

A core teaching of Mussar is that our deepest essence is inherently pure and holy. However, our inner is obscured by extremes of emotion, desire, and bad habits which veil the inner light within us. Our task in life is to break through the “veils” and uncover the brilliant light within our soul. The Mussar masters developed a host of teachings and practices—some of which are contemplative, some of which focus on how we engage with other people in daily life, some seek to impact our sense of relationship with God. All are designed to help us heal and refine ourselves. Mussar is both a body of knowledge and a perspective on life. It is also a discipline because Mussar knowledge is not meant to be a merely intellectual pursuit. The teachings of Mussar are meant to be activated in our daily lives.

Mussar is built on the concept of middot (singular – middah), “soul traits” which are elements of our character. These include humility, honor, patience, gratitude, generosity, anger, forgiveness – and the list goes on. We each carry all the traits. However, we each carry them in different ways and different strengths. The path of Mussar invites the student/ practitioner to consider a single trait for a period of time so she can learn about her strengths and opportunities for growth.

Each middah is imagined along a spectrum ranging from extremely strong to absent. The general goal, I believe, is to try to walk within what I like to call “the broad middle.” Akin to Aristotle’s Golden Mean, Maimonides’ Shvil HaZahav (the path of moderation), Buddhism’s Middle Way, and other similar portrayals of the ideal path in life, the “broad middle” beckons us to strive for a balance. We can track a similar range for each of the middot. For example, we should exhibit not too much humility (or a lack of self-worth), but neither should we allow our sense of self to grow unbounded so that there a total absence thereof. In the case of generosity, we should strive not to be miserly. Yet nor should we be so generous as to give it all away. As Alan Morinis teaches, there are times when the middle is not the ideal path: For example, “in the face of injustice patience is not a virtue.” Just like a gymnast who navigates a balance beam, we must make constant adjustments. As dynamic beings, each of our middot/soul traits is in flux. So too, is the world around us. Through Mussar study and practice we hold up a mirror in order that we might examine ourselves with an eye towards personal improvement and growth. 

Part of what I love about the study and practice of Mussar is that while we each have what Alan calls our own personal “soul curriculum” soul traits which need more or less work, we practice in the context of a va’ad, a group with whom we share the journey. At present, I work with five such groups. I also study as part of two personal study pairs (hevrutot) with dear rabbinic friends and colleagues. Sharing the journey helps me as I learn from those around me with whom I share my struggles, my insights, my successes, and the learning. In the darkness which I so often feel pervades our world, I have trusted companions with whom I can share the journey. This adds meaning to my life. The study, practice and my companions help provide a sense of balance.

In one of my groups, we have been working for the past month with the middah of menuchat ha-nefesh which is often translated as “equanimity” or “tranquility.” So much has happened since we began our focus on this soul trait which has thrown us off in terms of a sense of equanimity. The rash of pipe-bomb packages; the shootings in Pittsburgh, Thousand Oaks and elsewhere; and the terrible loss of life and property in the fires consuming vast parts of California; all disrupt the sense of wholeness in our world. Add to this the hateful rhetoric which flies in too many directions and too many places in our country. Just yesterday morning I awoke to a news story about a 10-year old Framingham girl, a Muslim student who received two notes in her school box. One accused her of being terrorist, and the other threatened her life. Why do our times make such forms of expression possible? A 10-year old child? That expression was learned somewhere. How do we dial that back? I also read yet again about the intensifying wave of anti-Semitic and other hate expression uncovered in the Reading Schools to the north of where I live. This morning it was at UMASS-Amherst. How do we impress upon our elected officials that hate, division, demagoguery, bullying, and personal attacks are unacceptable? We are better than this.

To enhance my sense of menuchat ha-nefesh, to strengthen my sense of balance, I have decided to tune out of social media, and indeed, most media for the week ahead. I want to focus my Thanksgiving week on middot, such as kavod/honor and hakarat ha-tov/gratitude for the people in my life, and for the blessings I enjoy. It’s not that I think the world will suddenly straighten itself out next week. I don’t. But I can find balance, strength, and blessing by stepping back and refocusing. May the coming holiday week bring us a sense of awareness of our blessings, and a sense of balance so that, renewed and strengthened, we can return to the work of making our world one in which the blessing of shleymut/wholeness can be shared more broadly.

Strive For Truth - An Election Eve Mussar Lesson

It’s the eve of our US midterm elections. The hype, rhetoric, and anxiety that have been part and parcel this election cycle is supposed to reach its climax in the ballots that will be tallied tomorrow. There is little reason to believe that the hype and rhetoric will abate, as the passing of this Election Day gives way to two years hence and the election for President of the US. I suspect that there is little reason to expect that the anxiety which seems so widespread will lessen either. The toxicity of our political arena has been building over years and even decades. The anxiety about our civic arena grows not only from the divisive discourse but from the accompanying horrific events which seem to be increasing in frequency and violence.

It was refreshing, therefore, to take a short break this morning from the news and the tension by diving into some study about one of the great Mussar masters, Rav Eliyahu Dessler (1892-1953). I should have known better than to think that my study would remove me from our existential reality. I was sitting in my favorite coffee house near our home, reading an article about Rav Dessler which I had found several months ago. Its title “Rabbi Eliyahu Eliezer Dessler: Not Quite the Musar Traditionalist” piqued my curiosity. I really thought it would take my mind off of this week’s elections. I was however, surprised when the author, Esther Solomon, proceeded at one point to reference a teaching from Rav Dessler’s magnum opus, Michtav Mey-Eliyahu (rendered in English as Strive For Truth!) The intersection of Rav Dessler and our reality came with the author’s reference to the Rav’s interest in bringing philosophical discourse into the world of Mussar. By and large, this was unheard of the formative years of the Mussar Movement, which began with Rav Yisrael Salanter in mid-19^th century Lithuania. Philosophical themes were very much the province of the Haskalah (Enlightenment) of 18^th century Europe. The Mussar Movement emerged, in part, as a reaction to the Haskalah. Ms. Solomon notes that Rav Dessler, a product of traditional Mussar learning, broke new ground by bringing the worlds of Mussar (as a Jewish spiritual character-building practice) and philosophical discourse on issues such as good and evil, truth and falsehood, the meaning of life, and other such themes into a common arena.

Reading her article, I was struck by these lines: “In deliberating the philosophical constructs of truth and falsehood, Rabbi Dessler posits that telling the facts does not, in itself, constitute the truth. True statements depend on their human context, particularly on the teller. Thus, if a person spends his life pursuing falsehood, any true facts he tells will nevertheless constitute falsehood because that is his life’s orientation.” Lest you think I am overreading Esther Solomon’s article, it was published before the 2016 election. While that timing might suggest that it was written in response to the then-current presidential campaign, at no point in the article does the author make any reference to current events, of that year, or any other, save for those from the lifetime of Rav Dessler (e.g. the Holocaust), who died in 1953. Sitting with my cup of coffee in the quiet of the cafe, I sat straight up as if she had aimed a megadose of caffeine at my consciousness. I was wide awake. I finished reading the article and raced home to grab my Rav Dessler volumes, both Hebrew and English, only to learn that in fact, he had written an entire discourse entitled, “What is Truth, and What is Falsehood?” I will be reading that selection as this week unfolds. But in a quick scan of his discourse, I quickly realized that his proof text comes from this week’s Torah portion – Parashat Toldot (Genesis 25:19-28:9)! Our portion reflects much of Isaac and Rebecca’s adult life, including the birth of their twins, Jacob and Esau, their challenging childhood, and their oppositional characters. In his discussion of truth and falsehood, Rav Dessler uses Jacob’s deceptive behavior towards their father in stealing his slightly older twin brother Esau’s rightful blessing as the firstborn.

Rav Dessler writes: “When we went to school, we were taught that truth is to tell the facts as they occurred, and falsehood is to deviate from this.” The line that really struck me was his statement, “No one can succeed in bringing his behavior into line with the veritable truth as long as materialistic, selfish, and evil will dominate his mind. His eyes will be blinded, and he will inevitably pervert everything to accord with his desires.”

I suspect I need not explicitly connect the dots from his teaching to the tension of our existential reality as Americans. The campaign which ends in tomorrow’s vote has been riddled with falsehood. Now I know that some will say that all or most politicians lie or stretch the truth. Indeed, I have grievances with leaders from all sides of the aisle. Yet, never in my life have I seen a leader so doggedly promote falsehood, and outright lies with the regularity of Mr. Trump. For all his attacks on the media as purveyors of “Fake News” it’s not lost on me that (a) journalists are human, and as such, they make mistakes. Most responsible journalists will own and correct their mistakes when they are made known, and (b) the “media” is a broad spectrum of outlets. These include some that have a proclivity for falsehood, including some of Mr. Trump’s favorite outlets. Is there “Fake News” out there? You bet there is. But it emanates more regularly from some of the sources that are absolved while Mr. Trump’s attacks CNN, the New York Times, and his other favorite bogeymen.

Tomorrow we get to render a verdict on the truth of where we wish to see our nation go in the years ahead. This may be the most consequential election day of my life thus far. While this is but our midterm election cycle, the outcome will impact the latitude with which this current Administration operates. You may not like your options – as many reportedly did not in the 2016 Presidential election. But not voting is voting. It is silent assent to the status quo. It may yet turn out that, as Americans, we will support the status quo after all the ballots have been counted.

In my eyes, this election is as much, if not more, about our value of truth over falsehood, as it is about candidates and ballot initiatives. Ms. Solomon’s summation of a key point in Rav Dessler’s teaching about truth and falsehood echoes aloud for me. I ask you, read it aloud to yourself a few times before you cast your ballot tomorrow. Let her echo of Rav Dessler’s teaching guide you, however, you choose to cast your vote: “If a person spends his life pursuing falsehood, any true facts he tells will nevertheless constitute falsehood because that is his life’s orientation.”

May we be guided to differentiate between truth and falsehood so that we, our neighbors, our fellow citizens, and all who share our world will be guided towards the truth that leads to Shalom!