Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC
Koheles (7:20)
makes a cryptic statement: adam ain tzadik ba’aretz asher ya-aseh tov
v’lo yech-eta, there is no one who is a tzadik who does well and
never sins.
Rav Yudin, in Koheles
Rabbah, asks how can it be that Koheles describes someone as a tzadik and at
the same time describes him as someone who commits sins. His answer is that we are mistranslating the
word yech-eta. It doesn’t always
mean sinning. He brings a text from
Shoftim to show that the word can also mean to ‘miss the mark, to fail.’ Rav Yudin says that Koheles is teaching us
that a tzadik who does well is not perfect; he fails sometimes, and he is still
a tzadik.
Greatness is not measured
by how seldom you fall. It’s measured by
how often you rise. You don’t become a
tzadik by achieving perfection. You
become a tzadik by overcoming imperfection, again and again.
Unfortunately, we and
our children sometimes get the impression that gedolim and tzadikim were born
that way and never faltered. Stories and
books that portray gedolim without any description of how they became the
paradigms of Torah and middos we wish to emulate, can lead us to despair. We, who know we how often we fall, despair of
ever rising to their heights.
Rav Hutner, z’l,
heard this despair in the words of one of his talmidim. He responded in a letter. Here, paraphrased, are some excerpts.
We tell the
stories of their perfection but skip over the struggles that raged within their
souls. We depict them as though they had
been created with their stature and character [as we know them]. We are all in awe at the purity of
speech of the Chofetz Chaim, z.t.l., but who knows of the battles, struggles
and obstacles, the falls and the set-backs that the Chofetz Chaim encountered
in his war with his yetzer hara.
The result of this is that when a young man of
spirit, of desire, of enthusiasm, finds himself stumbling, falling, declining,
he believes himself unworthy of dwelling in Hashem’s home¦ But know, my beloved one, that the root of
your soul lies not in the tranquility of the yetzer hatov; it lies only in the
battles of the yetzer hatov¦ In English there is an expression, ‘lose a battle,
win the war.’ Truly you have stumbled,
and you will stumble, (and this is not a concern of opening one’s mouth to
Satan), and in many battles you will fall defeated¦
The wisest of men said, ‘Seven shall a tzadik fall,
and rise.’ The fools think that this
means that a tzadik can fall seven times and will rise. The wise understand
well that this means that the making of a tzadik is the result of the seven
times he has fallen. (Quoted in Tuvcha Yabe-u, Chukkas, page 104)
The Tiferes Yisrael
[Kiddushin 4:77] tells the story of an Arabian king who had heard wondrous
things about his contemporary, Moshe Rabeinu.
The king sent his finest artist to Moshe Rabeinu to paint his
portrait. The artist returned with the painting,
and the king summoned his wisest men to interpret from the visage what this
great man is truly like. They all agreed
that the face in the portrait depicted a person of low character, arrogant,
money-hungry, and callous.
The king was
furious. He assumed that either his
wisest men were actually fools, unable to read a person’s character, or that
his finest artist had failed to accurately depict Moshe Rabeinu in the painting
thus misleading the wise men. He wanted
to know who had failed him.
The king traveled to
the camp of the Jews, to see Moshe Rabeinu for himself. As he rode near, he saw Moshe Rabeinu from a
distance, yet close enough to see that the likeness rendered by his royal
artist was strikingly accurate. He
respectfully approached Moshe Rabeinu, explained what had happened and why he
had come, and that he now realized that his physiognomists
were either complete frauds or had chosen to deceive him about Moshe Rabeinu.
Moshe Rabeinu told him his suspicions
were unfounded; the portrait is an accurate depiction, and the physiognomists’
interpretation is correct. ‘I am not
ashamed to tell you that all of the failings that your wise men discerned in me
are bound up in me by nature¦ I, with great strength have harnessed them and
turned them into their opposites, a second nature. And that is why I have respect and honor in
the heavens above and on the earth below.’
Perhaps Rav Hutner
would have been pleased to read:
‘The world renowned
Rosh HaYeshiva, Rav Moshe Feinstein, was known for his pleasant demeanor; even
in the most provocative of situations he would avoid an angry response.
When a yeshiva
student questioned him about his serenity however, he made it clear that the
quality was not easy to attain, or even natural, to him. ‘It is years that I have worked on perfecting
this trait,’ he said.’ (Ramban: A Letter for the Ages, Artscroll 1989, page 31)
You, as a parent, are not, and will never be perfect. Your struggles may be difficult, but they are signs of growth, not defeat. The same is true for your children. During the times of struggle, how do you sustain your optimism, or at least stave off despair?
On a good day, be in the goodness; and on a bad day, see. (Koheles 7:14)
See what? See, on a difficult day, what you were able
to accomplish on the successful days.
Let that be a source of reassurance that you will do better again. (Likutei Oros page 25 note 16)
We tend to
notice failure and gloss over success, in ourselves, and in our children.
Slow down and
pay attention to the words of guidance you have spoken gently, reassurance you
have given, a smile you have shared. You
do well, and you deserve to notice it.
You will continue to notice when you do poorly, but it will be a
reminder that you have to keep getting up, not a frightening confirmation that you
never stand tall. Noticing how often you
do well makes it possible to succeed at failing.