by Rabbi Yoseph Kahanov - Jax, FL

Kabbalah of Guilt: The Cure Within the Malady

A mother once gave her son two sweaters as a Chanukah gift. The next time he visited his mother he made sure to wear one of the new sweaters. As he entered the house, instead of the usual smile and warm embrace, his mother looks at him sullenly and says: “What’s the matter? You didn’t like the other one?”

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In the long run, Americans tend to regret resisting guilty pleasures, a new study finds. Guilt, it seems, is just a passing fancy. (Lisa Anderson, Chicago Tribune July 30, 2006)

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Near Lubavitch there lived a Chassid who had married off his daughter to an extremely talented Torah scholar. The proud father-in-law promised to provide for the newlyweds so that the young man could devote himself entirely to his studies.

But after a while, the promising prodigy fell into bad company, neglected his studies and began to veer off to decidedly unsavory pursuits. After much effort, the distraught father-in-law managed to persuade the young man to come with him to his Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Lubavitch.

“Tell me,” said the Rebbe to the young genius, whose new-found interests included horse racing, “What’s so great about a swift horse? Let’s say that it can gallop twenty verst in the time it takes the average horse to go four, but should it take a wrong turn, it will carry its rider further and further from his destination — at five times the speed!”

“You have a point,” agreed the young man. “In such a case the swiftness of the horse has become a disadvantage.”

The Rebbe’s next words penetrated the young man’s heart: “But remember, as soon as the horse realizes that it has gone astray, it can regain the right path that much faster than his weaker brother…” – Once Upon A Chassid.

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A friend of mine is fond of saying, “My tribe (he is Jewish) invented guilt.” Still, be that as it may, along with shame and humility, the feeling of guilt is among the character traits that have become taboo and outmoded in our age and culture of self-centeredness and gratification.

Our culture and the general psychology profession typically views guilt as all bad. We have been told that we should not feel guilty about much of anything and that we should just let go of guilt… all guilt! The message seems to be that guilt is toxic and that you should get rid of it at all costs. Guilt, we are advised, is baggage not worth carrying around, it’s like dead weight that can hold us back and cause unwarranted stress in our lives; something that we all have too much of already.

“Regrets, I’ve had a few,” Frank Sinatra crooned in his signature, taking-stock-of-life ballad “My Way.” He didn’t give details, but new research indicates that over time one is more likely to have regrets about choosing virtue, than guilt over indulging in vice. Yes, you read that correctly.

In the short term, vice is regretted more than virtue. But in the long run, people tend less to regret selfish pleasures taken than those virtuously forsaken, according to a study of Americans by Ran Kivetz, an associate professor of business and doctoral candidate Anat Keinan, both at Columbia University’s Graduate School of Business.

Another study, published in the Journal of Consumer Research, explored the regret felt by college students over their conduct on recent winter breaks and by alumni remembering winter breaks of 40 years ago. Regret about not having spent or traveled more during breaks increased with time, whereas regret about not having worked, studied, or saved money during breaks decreased with time. A similar pattern is depicted in a study of how businesspeople perceived past choices between work and pleasure. Over time, those who had indulged felt less and less guilty about their choices, whereas those who had been dutiful, experienced a growing sense of having missed out on the pleasures of life.

But how does Judaism view guilt? Is it a vice or a virtue? You guessed it of course. Judaism obviously perceives it as a virtue, at least from the perspective of Chassidus.

While there may be forms of guilt that are unwholesome or excessive – such as blaming oneself for things for which one is not responsible or in control and the like – generally speaking, guilt, according to Chassidic thought, despised as it may be, is the vice that contains the virtue within. It is the painful and nagging emotion that serves as a powerful impetus to seek to correct the matters that are the cause of our guilt and remorse, as well as the driving force for over-all self betterment and improvement.

A Rabbi once related how in his early years of rabbinic practice, he was in the habit of offering misguided advice to people struggling with guilt. “When they would say: ‘Rabbi, my mother died and I didn’t visit, care, or tend to her enough in her final weeks, now she is gone… the guilt is unbearable.’ I would provide soothing counsel, i.e. ‘Don’t feel guilty, you surely did your best… besides, of what good is guilt, it only tends to weigh you down in life.’

As time went on” says the Rabbi, “I realized that this advice was not helpful and fundamentally flawed. I had in essence answered a rational emotion with an irrational response. It was essentially trying to will them out of their legitimate and intrinsic concerns of culpability and remorse.”

Instead, the Rabbi started to give related procedural assignments in response to these types of quandaries. Rather than urging people to just dismiss their guilt, he would prescribe a corresponding activity. For example, in one case he advised a congregant to visit patients who were terminal, as his mother had been; with the aim of offering them some of the care that he had failed to provide for his own mother. Sure enough, upon fulfilling the assignment the subject reported back that his guilt had begun to subside.

What all this suggests, ironic as it may seem, is that couched within the so called “Vice” of guilt, lies the “Virtue” of repentance, improvement and most of all redemption. This in fact is a cardinal principle of Kabbalah, depicted by Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, founder of the Chabad Chassidic movement, in his magnum opus, Tanya.

In Tanya Rabbi Schneur Zalman describes how the two ventricles of the human heart serve as the seat of the two diametrical human systems of expression. The right side being the station of the holy Divine soul and its gamut of righteous emotive expressions. The left side by contrast, is where the animal soul and its gamut of unholy animalistic manifestations are situated. The Rebbe goes on to establish that the function of man is not just to engage the virtuous attributes of the right side, i.e. positivity and joy, while suppressing the negative traits of the left ventricle, but rather to harness the power which is endowed in the left unholy side as well.

One example of this process is the utilization of “Merirus” – remorse or guilt, which originates in the left side – for the sake of deeper motivation towards holiness. While Torah and Mitzvos are meant to be performed with joy and gladness of heart, we are also enjoined to spend time in self-reflection; to contemplate the nature of our distant spiritual state and lot and to regret how far we are from where we could be. While in doing so it’s possible to (temporarily) feel the opposite of joy, not only is that okay, it is in fact a necessary component in our achievement of higher levels in Divine aspiration and unification.

For while great levels can be reached though the attribute of joy and contentment, some heights and drives can only be acquired through the attribute of “Bitterness;” a disquieting from of remorse and inadequacy. Remorse, aka feeling of guilt over our lowliness and distance from our Father in heaven compared to where we could be, drives us to strive harder; to push farther and reach where we otherwise couldn’t. This catapulting prowess however, is only realized by borrowing an attribute from the unholy left side; the emotion of bitterness/guilt.

What this means, counter intuitive as it might be, is that the highest potential of man’s Divine service requires the utilization and medium of the vices belonging to the left side or the unholy dimension. This is accomplished by means of harnessing and elevating its particular energy for the use of Divine purpose. But why? Why should man’s greatest spiritual heights be achieved specifically and exclusively by means of the depraved and profane properties of human character?

The answer lies in the essential nature of irreverent or evil character traits. It so happens that in reality there is no such thing as true evil or profane characteristics. What is referred to as the evil side, is Divinity in disguise. In fact the lower and more cloaked a quality is in materialistic worldly garments, the higher is its Divine source. Accordingly, Divinity and its opposite – what appears as mundane and evil; vice and virtue – are actually two sides of the same coin. The above helps explain some of the elusive concepts of this week’s Parsha, Chukas.

Among the various topics discussed in Chukas, are two major themes. One is the strange ritual of the “Red cow” with which the Parsha commences, Numbers 19:1-20. Much has been written about the red cow, the ashes of which are meant to remove ritual impurity from those who have come in contact with a corpse, human bone, or grave.

The other major theme of our Parsha, is the peculiar episode that occurred in the fortieth year of the Israelites desert sojourn, when the people complained about the “Rotten bread” – referring to the manna; the staple of their diet. G-d regarded this as an unwarranted insult; a demonstration of their lack of appreciation. As a result G-d dispatched a plague of venomous serpents to attack the Israelite encampment.

After many people died from the snake bites, the Israelites turned to Moshe and begged him to pray to G-d that the plague be removed. Upon Moshe’s prayer to G-d on behalf of the Jewish people, G-d instructed him to make a serpent and place it on a pole, “Whoever will look up at the serpent would be healed.”

Moshe made a copper snake and put it on a pole. Whenever a snake bit a man, he would gaze upon the copper snake and live, Numbers 21:1-15. Like with the red heifer, much has been written about the copper serpent, which when looked upon was meant to remove the effects of the poison of the serpents sent to punish the people. Regarding both these biblical ritual phenomena, we encounter a similarly odd characteristic; an intrinsic conflicting quality. In both cases the cure lies enmeshed within the malady.

The obvious puzzle regarding the red cow is the elusive law that while the applicant of the formula becomes purified from his spiritual defilement, the applicator of the potion becomes impure by virtue of the very same formula; a mystery for which this particular commandment has earned its distinction as the Chok of all Chukim – statute of all statutes. This of course is in addition to all the other mysteries regarding this Mitzvah, such as how a lowly cow’s ashes comes to bring about spiritual purification in the first place.

There is a very similar puzzle regarding the narrative of the biting snakes: How is it that the very same object; the snake, can be a source of death and poison, as well as of life and healing? Equally perplexing is why Moshe needed to make a snake in the first place. Wouldn’t it be simpler if G-d just made the snakes disappear as before the onset of the plague?

It also needs to be understood why Moshe made a COPPER snake. G-d only instructed him to make a snake and put it on a pole. Where did the idea of copper come from? Finally, if a snake has positive healing powers, why is it that it was a snake that enticed Adam and Eve to turn away from G-d’s commandment?

This question is addressed in Likutei Torah on our Parsha. The answer provided is that the Almighty doesn’t create anything that is inherently evil. Even the most negative objects, traits and emotions have a positive source and dimension. Atheism can be used as an example of this axiom, for even in that gravely sinful condition, a positive element can be extracted.

What positive side is there to Atheism you ask? The answer is that when a fellow human-being solicits one’s assistance or charity, he should not resort to holy, high-minded faith in response, such as assuring the deprived individual of G-d’s goodness and benevolence. It is rather a time to act as a skeptic (atheist), not to rely on the Almighty, but rather to take matters into one’s own hands, i.e. reach into one’s pocket and help the unfortunate fellow with his physical needs or badly needed funds.

The idea that there is a good and spiritual source in all things is illustrated in the two aforementioned injunctions in our Parsha, the red heifer and the copper snake… Similar to the ashes of the red cow which contained both extremes; the ability to purify and defile at the same time, Moshe was teaching the people of Israel, with the upraised copper snake, to look inwards and upwards at its positive spiritual source.

With this in mind, we can understand why the snake was chosen. A venomous snake is a source of harm and destruction. Spiritually too, the snake brought incredible harm to this world when it enticed Eve to eat from the Tree of Knowledge. Yet it represents and underscores the important idea and cosmic truism of the virtue within the vice; of the harmer that actually heals! The very same idea behind the purifying potion of the red cow.

This concept is further bolstered by the interconnection between the word snake – נחשׁ and the word for cooper – נְחשֶׁת. The word Nachash – נחשׁ – snake is also used to refer to the evil inclination, Bava Basra 16a and many other places. In sync with our line of thought, Copper/Nechoshes-נְחשֶׁת was used as the antidote for the evil inclination because of its ability to tame and overcome the evil inclination. Hence the similarity in name.

Where do we see the positive power of Nechoshes-נְחשֶׁת? The answer goes back to the mirrors of the women who had set up the legions in Egypt: The Israelite women, we are taught, owned mirrors, which they would look into when they adorned themselves for their husbands.

When their husbands were weary from back-breaking labor, these women would each take the mirrors and see themselves with their husband and would seduce him with words, saying, “I am more beautiful than you.” In this way they aroused their husbands’ desire. They would then copulate, conceive and give birth.

The women did not hesitate to bring these mirrors as a contribution toward the Mishkan. While Moshe rejected them, due to their use for lustful temptation, the Almighty instructed him to accept them, saying: “These are more precious to Me than anything, because through them the women setup many legions in Egypt.” I.e., they gave birth to many children.

Following the example of the copper used by the women to channel the evil inclination for positive, Moshe too used copper to channel the evil inclination represented by snakes into goodness and healing.

Furthermore, from these mirrors the washstand was made that served to bring peace between a man and his wife. For the water from the washstand was used in the test of the woman whose husband had warned her not to seclude herself with a certain man. The potion made with this water would either destroy her, or prove her innocence and bring peace into the marriage. Num. 5:11-31. Here again the connection between נחשׁ and נְחשֶׁת comes into play. The נחשׁ (evil inclination) can be used to create something very good נְחשֶׁת when channeled in the correct way.

If we look carefully, we discover that this same method of healing is used elsewhere. Moshe used a bitter stick to sweeten bitter waters (Exodus 15:25 and Targum Yonatan there). And it was salt that Elisha used to purify the harmful water, Kings II Cha 2.

Incidentally, Moshe’s copper snake was eventually defiled by certain Jews, as they mistakenly believed that it possessed divine healing powers. This led the righteous King Hezekiah of Judah (6th century BCE) to destroy this snake, Kings II 18:4. This once again emphasizes its dual characteristic; its potential for good and for evil.

May we take the lessons of this Parsha to heart and learn to identify and utilize the good in everything, even in what seems like evil, including the character traits of shame and guilt. By our doing so we will help elevate the highest levels of spirituality, which are incased in the lowest levels of mundanity and vice, and hasten thereby the coming of the righteous Moshiach BBA.

One Comment

  • Yossi

    May I suggest I would like to point out, that marirus and guilt are two different things, marirus comes from the realization of the bad/consequence that one did or did not do, guilt/rasha is saying to your self your bad for this and that or how can I do such a thing etc, which is truly distructive, which is stated on the first page of Tanya, ( based on rabbi klaideman perush on Tanya. A chossid of the mitteler rebbe)