TROUBLESHOOTING THE MADNESS OF EXILE
February 22, 2019
Boruch Merkur in #1155, Editorial, Ki Sisa, Moshiach & Geula

Einstein famously defines insanity as “doing something over and over again and expecting a different result.” Are we insane to think that what we’ve done until now suffices?! Are we mad to think that if we’ve tried it for almost 30 years, it still may be the best approach?!

By Boruch Merkur

There is a fascinating list of Jews in the Talmud. In a sense, they are the greatest four men who ever lived. These spiritual giants were so righteous they were deemed worthy of immortality, never having sinned. They only died “b’etyo shel nachash – because of the counsel of the serpent [i.e., the primordial snake’s enticing Chava to eat of the Tree of Knowledge, resulting in human mortality]”:

Our Sages taught: There were four people who died only because of the counsel of the serpent, and they are: Binyamin son of Yaakov; Amram, father of Moshe; Yishai, father of Dovid; and Kilav, son of Dovid. (Bava Basra 17a)

You can often tell more about something by what is absent in it than what is present. This rather short list of righteous Jews is conspicuously missing some very big Biblical names. Rabbi YY Jacobson1 draws our attention to these shocking omissions, as well as to another peculiarity:

Think of all the great people of our nation who are excluded from this list: Abraham, Isaac and Jacob; Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah; the other eleven sons of Jacob including Benjamin’s older and beloved brother Joseph, known as Yosef HaTzaddik, Joseph the righteous one. Moses, the greatest prophet, teacher and leader of Israel about whom the Torah states that “there never arose a prophet like Moses whom G-d knew face to face.” Aaron, the High Priest, Joshua, Samuel, and many more, are not on the list. Our greatest giants did not make it into the Who’s Who list of sinless people. Instead, the list consists of four relatively anonymous persons: Benjamin, Amram, Yishai and Kileab. Why?

Also, the Talmudic identification of each of these four individuals is strange. Each of them is mentioned with his father’s name or his son’s name. Why doesn’t the Talmud simply list their names as it does with most biblical characters? Why identify each historical figure by his relationship to another: Benjamin, the son of Jacob; Amram, the father of Moses; Yishai, the father of David; Kilav, the son of David?

The Talmud is intimating an extraordinary idea: Our greatest heroes are not the ones who never sinned, but rather the ones who actually committed mistakes (relative to their spiritual level). Because when you are a leader it is not a question of “if” but of “when.”

Benjamin, Amram, Yishai and Kilav all died sinless, because they lived a life of isolation. They did not deal much with people; they did not take responsibility for the generation; they did not get enmeshed in affairs of the community. In short, they did not get their hands dirty, hence they remained untarnished. …

Don’t be afraid of making mistakes. Just make sure … they are new mistakes.

And Rabbi Jacobson concludes that a leader who is not enmeshed with his people or who is not prepared to go out on a limb to follow his vision, a leader unwilling to risk making mistakes “generally makes nothing.”

 

The typical righteous man, even if he does not achieve his goals, takes pride in his effort. There is much satisfaction in the many steps taken towards one’s objectives. Yet the Rebbe, a true leader and visionary, in considering that he has not yet accomplished his life’s mission of bringing Moshiach in the literal sense, feels that he amounted to nothing. “What more can I do?” the Rebbe says, “I don’t know. For all I have done until now is ‘l’hevel v’la’rik!’ It amounted to nothing! We remain in exile.”

A mashpia told me that he has a friend who desperately tried to live with Moshiach every day, literally expecting Moshiach to ascend his throne before the day ended. He did this for six months straight and told his friend how devastated it made him, facing the end of each day with letdown and failure. Imagine, the mashpia replied, how the Rebbe felt doing that every day for over 40 years!

Who would dare describe the Rebbe’s lifework of illuminating the world to bring Moshiach as “hevel v’la’rik,” words so distasteful that we spit them out in Aleinu. Yet the Rebbe’s brutal self-assessment illustrates how important, how urgent and pressing is this single goal.

 

There is a video of a Polisher Chassid describing to the Rebbe a tish2 he attended: “It was… It was…” The man just waves his hands in inarticulate gesticulation. “Nu,” the Rebbe asks, “why do you gesture with your hands?” What was so special about the tish? What was said? Was there some message you took out of it, a new perspective, a directive to help us navigate the darkness of the world – or did it actually amount to nothing?

How many times have you been to even incredibly inspiring events, yet you reflect and ask yourself: What new was said here? Was it truly relevant? Did the speaker address the most pertinent issues of our times? Did the speaker acknowledge the gaping vacuum in leadership? (Sometimes you even notice, by dint of an empty seat at the dais, that key figures ducked out early or didn’t even show up.) Why is there the conspicuous omission of (not the word “Moshiach” – though often that too – but the fire, the urgency of) Moshiach? Are people literally embarrassed about Moshiach and the imminence of the geula, which the Rebbe said to publicize as a prophecy?

The biggest idol of our times is apathy towards Moshiach. Our smug satisfaction should come with the warning label: “Don’t hurt yourself – patting yourself on the back.” How different is the Rebbe’s definition of and reaction to hearing of others’ accomplishments, which typically was expressed by asking, “What next do you have planned?”

Recently a prominent individual, someone very learned, publicly screamed out against the approach of saying that nothing happened on Gimmel Tammuz 5754. He taunted that if the Rebbe is alive, why don’t we publish new maamarim and sichos? He went on and on, standing on his chair and shouting sarcastically, “What has changed since Gimmel Tammuz?!”

“Just after Gimmel Tammuz,” I responded grimly, also standing on my seat, “there was polarization between two groups of Chassidim, and we fought. Now no one fights, because nobody cares.”

The growing polarization in American politics, the growing polarization between the genders and races, the growing coming-out-of-the-closet anti-Semitism, rachmana litzlan, all point toward the urgent need for us to wake up from our galus-slumber and be vigilant about our welfare as Jews and about bringing about the only solution: geula.

When Jews get together for a Shabbaton or the like, serious attention should be devoted to shaking up the status quo of exile. A gathering of Yidden, Chassidim of the Rebbe, devotes time towards brainstorming what we could possibly do different, what new approach we can come up with to finally bring Moshiach.

Why do we suffice with continuing the exact same approach, giving the exact same emphasis and focus, without trying something new? Doesn’t anyone realize that what we’ve done until now has NOT WORKED! Einstein famously defines insanity as “doing something over and over again and expecting a different result.” Are we insane to think that what we’ve done until now suffices?! Are we mad to think that if we’ve tried it for almost 30 years, it still may be the best approach?!

We need new ideas (obviously based on the Rebbe’s teachings) to troubleshoot the madness of this 2000-year exile. I personally will not stop encouraging rosh yeshivas, mashpiim, bachurim, and baalei battim until new leaders3 assert themselves, true leaders who live every moment of their lives with the urgency of redemption.

NOTES:

1. In his article on TheYeshiva.net (“Leadership is Synonymous with Sin,” https://www.theyeshiva.net/jewish/5477), Rabbi Jacobson cites Chiddushei Agados Maharal as a source for the conspicuous omissions from this list, “but Maharal provides a different answer.”

2. A ceremonious gathering of chassidim and a rebbe at an elaborate table (tish).

3. In my opinion, many of the current and former leaders must strive for new focus and vision, or simply new ways to articulate their vision, or by employing more sophisticated, far-reaching platforms to get out their message.

 

Boruch welcomes opportunities to speak further about Moshiach and a variety of topics. Please email editor@beismoshiach.org for details.

 

Article originally appeared on Beis Moshiach Magazine (http://www.beismoshiachmagazine.org/).
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