A story is told about a yeshivah in a small village in Russia in which one particular student was becoming a serious discipline problem. He repeatedly was finding new and unruly ways to disturb the learning of the others. The extent of the problem reached its peak one morning when the boy arrived early with a baby goat which he clandestinely deposited in the Aron Kodesh of the yeshivah’s beit midrash. Later, while everyone was davening, wild bleating was heard emanating from the Aron Kodesh. When someone stepped forward to open the doors, the goat jumped out, sending the yeshivah boys into an uproar and, needless to say, totally disrupting the aura of the prayers.
The matter was brought to the attention of the rabbi of the region, who was aware of the child’s history. After some reflection, the rav decided that in view of his outrageous and ill-mannered behavior on numerous occasions, the boy must be dismissed from the yeshivah. The lad was brought before him and was informed of the regretful decision. He looked at the rav and responded, “Rebbe, if I am being banished, then at the same time, my children and grandchildren are being banished from Klal Yisrael forever!” The rav was shocked at hearing such a remarkable comment from a young boy. He realized that this response reflected a certain degree of maturity and sensitivity, and he decided that the child could not be expelled from the yeshivah due to the possible long-range consequences. The youngster indeed remained, and it is told that he did eventually mature into a responsible, upright adult.
The assertiveness and perseverance of the little boy, despite his wrongdoing, as well as the challenge to him from a sage so much higher in stature, seems to have a precedent in the Torah. In Parshat Ki Tisa, after the incident of the Golden Calf, Hashem told Moshe Rabbeinu that He was prepared to eradicate the entire Jewish nation and create a new one with Moshe as its starting point. “Leave Me alone . . . let My anger burn against them . . . I will make you into a great nation” (Shemot 32:10). Rashi comments here that, despite Hashem’s declared intentions, Moshe Rabbeinu was not expected to remain passive. Even in view of the enormity of the nation’s transgression, Moshe was expected to infer that by interceding with prayer, there was the possibility that the nation would be saved. The implication from God was that all was not lost.
We understand from this incident that even when the Torah seems to convey the message, “Go away,” positive efforts to the contrary may be indicated. There is a concept of teshuvah which dictates that one tainted by sin always has the alternative of working to correct his ways in order to be reunited with his Maker. But perhaps we can extrapolate an additional lesson here. If, despite outward indications to the contrary, Moshe Rabbeinu was expected to plead for Klal Yisrael’s survival, it would seem that yeiush, hopelessness, has no place in proper living. Even if a situation appears bleak, there is still a possibility of turning things around and succeeding.
How do we define success which is worth the effort? It cannot always be categorically defined. It often depends upon standards peculiar to the subject at hand. (In baseball, a .300 batting average is considered excellent even though it means the player reached base less than one-third of the time.) Sometimes the value of an act lies in the qualitative effort expended rather than its actual and total completion. Rabbi Yitzchak Hutner, zt”l, in a personal letter to someone involved with communal work (published in Pachad Yitzchak, Igrot U’ktavim, letter 152), mentioned that while we constantly invoke the merit of Akeidat Yitzchak [the binding of Isaac] in our tefillot, it is interesting to note that despite the awesome mesirat nefesh [self-sacrifice] on the part of Abraham and Isaac as manifested in their pure intentions, the act of sacrifice in the physical sense was never actually carried out. Nevertheless, this chapter has remained an integral part of the consciousness of, as well as of inestimable merit for Klal Yisrael throughout the generations.
Success essentially also must be measured according to a person’s individual strengths; what is expected of one person is unreasonable to expect of another. There are degrees of success; and although a person may not achieve 100% success, he may attain a degree of it which also can be termed “success” for that individual. There are many bright and capable students within our Torah education systems who, due to various factors such as differing personality types and learning styles, demand a more customized learning situation than many typical yeshivot are able to offer. (And with appropriate programming, succeed they do!) There are physically (and otherwise) handicapped people who often must exert heroic effort to master skills which the rest of us perform with a modicum of effort.
While there are general, universally-accepted criteria for success, even greatness, which is proper and beneficial, it should also be stressed that fulfilling one’s God-given, custom-designed personal agenda is a tremendous success for any given individual. A particular deed or deeds may not carry much prestige in the eyes of the masses, but the measuring rod of what is considered a great achievement is not necessarily synonymous with public acclaim. On the Heavenly scoreboard, it may rank extremely high. One person’s mission may be to serve as a renowned rosh yeshivah, guiding a large institution and inspiring the masses with brilliant shiurim. Another’s calling may be to perform clandestine acts of chesed while cheering up those around him or her. The story is told of a elderly man who was determined to get some Gemara learning under his belt, despite having no Talmudic background whatsoever. He was directed to Rav Moshe Feinstein’s yeshivah where a student agreed to teach him. It took four years of persistence for the man to satisfactorily complete one daf [two sides of a page] of Talmud. Upon being apprised of the gentleman’s accomplishment, Rav Feinstein said that this was tantamount to a scholar finishing an entire tractate and that it would therefore be appropriate for the students of the yeshivah to organize a festive seudat mitzvah to mark the occasion, which he himself would attend.
There is yet another reason not to become discouraged if success initially seems elusive. The Talmud states (Eruvin 13b) that one who “pushes time” — i.e., attempts to hasten the time of his success — will be “pushed away by time,” i.e., success will elude him. But, on the other hand, the Gemara maintains, one who “gives in to time,” waiting with patience — “time will give” in to him, and he will ultimately succeed. There is an invaluable message here: Don’t be rebuffed by initial failure. Sometimes we don’t make it on the first attempt. I was told by a prolific author who has written numerous popular books both on Torah and secular themes that his first work was rejected by close to 20 publishers before it was accepted for publication. It is astonishing to note how many successful men and women in a variety of fields experienced adversity when beginning (and even during) their careers.
What about those of us who are discouraged to the point of little or no hope? We should try anyway, for two reasons. Firstly, our perseverance may pay off and we may ultimately succeed. Secondly, our concrete efforts create a positive mindset and motivate us to look ahead, rather than remain with a negative attitude which only causes us to look backwards.
In the classic musar work, Michtav M’Eliyahu,* Rabbi Eliyahu Dessler derives this lesson from the extraordinary occurrences of Chanukah. An imperative in avodat Hashem [service to God], upon which one’s success depends, is the concept of “ein b’reirah,” loosely translated, “there is no other alternative (but to forge ahead).” This dictates that if there are obstacles in the path to our objective, precisely through striving against these can we merit a measure of siyata d’Shamaya [help of Heaven] through which we can succeed in a manner above and beyond the bounds of nature. Such an approach was fundamentally responsible for the miracles of Chanukah in which the few and the weak were militarily victorious over the many and the strong (as we recite in “Al Hanissim”), and the oil of the menorah of the Beit Hamikdash burned far longer than was expected. Employing the spiritual stratagem of “ein b’reirah,” the Hasmoneans exerted themselves without regard for what could be reasonably and logically expected. By doing this, their undertaking warranted an “overabundance” of Hashem’s assistance – a miracle! They set an example which taught us that when the path to accomplishment seems inaccessible one shouldn’t give in to despair, but rather should push ahead anyway. Despite the difficulties, if we invest the initial external effort, we can expect that Hashem will supplement our efforts, if this success is what He deems to be in our best interest.
The Zohar mentions that, with proper desire, this concept can bring one to higher spiritual levels. The Hasmoneans did their part within the parameters of human possibility despite its seeming inadequacy. Hashem did the rest in a miraculous way, bringing illumination to the world during the days of Chanukah. But the illuminating nature of these days, emanating annually, parallels another kind of light — namely, that which is generated by our manual, limited efforts, the fruits of which come to us b’derech nes, in a supernatural manner. The difficult challenges facing us when contending with adversity — which could lead to despair – should rather spur us on to a certain sacred obstinacy. Such obstinacy constitutes an invaluable tool in serving Hashem and is therefore a vital component in every aspect of our lives where we so desire, and are destined for, success.
*volume 2, pages 119-120
Yosef M. Gesser is a freelance writer currently residing in Mexico City. His article, “A Renaissance of Torah South of the Border,” appeared in the Summer ’97 issue of Jewish Action.