Conquering Apathy

by Yirmiyahu Harrison
Essays 2015

MyLife Essay Contest

The elder Chassidim were known for their love of G-d, a fiery passion that burned in them keeping them warm amidst the coldest environments. Nothing could challenge their commitment to G-d or diminish  the strength of their connection to Torah and mitzvot. They fought against harsh regimes and were prepared to give their lives in the battle for Yiddishkeit. Many of us, in this generation, listen to the  stories of these Chassidim as if they were legendary figures. We live in a world that seems to demand so little from us in this regard. While there are pockets of anti-Semitism around the world, for the most part it is no longer coming from the government but merely the fringe elements of the population. In almost every country where Jews reside, we are free to believe and practice as we choose. The challenge we face today is the lack of adversity. While its not something we would ever wish for, the fact remains that adversity builds resilience. Even on a physical level, more of us suffer today from the ravages of inactivity — heart attack, stroke, high blood pressure — than from any war. The violent winds that the previous generations faced may have made their lives a constant struggle but it also served to fan the flames of their commitment.

What can we do in the face of our own apathy? We are taught that everything can be used in the service of G-d. But how can one serve G-d with a lack of warmth and feeling, with a sense of spiritual emptiness? How can we escape that feeling that we are just going through the motions, moving through our lives robotically? How can our commitment survive through periods where we just don’t feel anything?

The Rebbe addresses this question in a discourse based on the story of Elisha and the vessels of oil. In the story Elisha is approached by a woman whose husband has passed away and her two children are about to be taken as slaves. The Rebbe explains that the woman represents the soul that cries out because the flames of love it once felt for G-d have died. Her children represent the emotions of love and fear that once served G-d but now may be taken into the service of other desires. Elisha asks her what she has left in her house and she answers just a small container of oil – nothing but the essential innermost point of the soul. Elisha advises her to bring into her house all of the empty vessels she can gather and pour from her small container until they are all filled. These empty vessels, the Rebbe explains, are mitzvot, containers for G-d’s light. And although they are empty, there is no limit to which the soul can pour into them from its essential point of connection to G-d, a point that is beyond any revealed feelings. Elisha assures her that not only will she have enough to repay her debt; she and her children will be able to live off the remainder, that this essential connection will feed the soul’s love and fear of G-d.

In the history of Jewish thought there have been countless works written on the subject of love and fear of G-d. They are the two mitzvot that form the foundation for our entire service of G-d. What can we learn about love and fear that can make a difference when these feelings seem impossibly far away?

Before Chassidus, the only way we could see this lack of feeling was as a personal failure, a confirmation of our lack of connection to G-d.

The Rebbe saw it quite differently.

Extracting from this parable advice that is at the same time practical and deeply mystical, the Rebbe teaches that us that this lack of feeling should not result in a reduction in our observance of mitzvot, we should gather together all the mitzvot we can. The fact that they are an empty experience does not mean that they are lacking rather it is a sign that they are reaching to a level that is beyond the revealed feelings of love and fear. Chassidus teaches that the light that comes from the love and fear we feel for G-d is a great light but greater still is the light that comes from darkness. The commitment to persevere when there is no intrinsic motivation and no compelling sense of reward or enjoyment, just the pure expression of our will, comes from the innermost point of the soul – the small container of oil.

However, there is an even deeper level that we can reach when all that we feel is emptiness. If, rather than fleeing from the experience, we allow ourselves to dwell within it, to remain within the uncomfortable awareness that this is all we have, these empty vessels, it is possible to reach a level that goes beyond even the light generated through the mitzvot we performed through will alone. Through  the performance of mitzvot we draw Divine light down into the world, but there is a level of G-d that remains untouched by this. This level can only be reached through the experience of ‘bitul’ – breaking down the perception we have of ourselves as being separate from G-d. Through the mitzvot we perform we become one with G-d’s will but through ‘teshuvah’ – our desire to return to G-d that arises from the awareness of our emptiness, we become one with G-d Himself.

The question remains, however, how can such an experience, something so completely beyond this world, provide any kind of sustenance for the soul’s children – our experience of love and fear. The  Rebbe finds the answer to this question in a discourse of the Rebbe Reshab, based on the verse, “For   this commandment that I command you today is not hidden from you and it is not distant” Chassidus teaches that the commandment referred to here is teshuvah, and although it touches the most essential expression of G-d, it is not distant precisely because it is, as the verse says, ‘from you.’ It lies in our willingness to dwell on our situation in order to arouse the desire to reconnect.

As soon as we feel this desire to reconnect, even before we have taken the first step to put our desire into action, we reveal the most essential expression of our soul, that it is one with G-d ever since He  gave Himself over to us when we received the Torah from Him. Although we may from time to time lose our faith in G-d, He has never lost His faith in us. Like a parent He embraces us, all of us, all of our emptiness and coldness. And with all of our soul, and even our emptiness, we return to Him.