“But how do you actually do it?” That is what my aunt asked me this week.
Last week, I wrote about arrogance. I shared the Rebbe’s explanation that a roof symbolizes arrogance, while the railing around the roof represents the protection against it.
I also shared some criticism I had received from someone who found it difficult to listen to what I was saying because he felt that I was speaking down to him.
And this week I was by the Rebbe — meaning, in New York. I visited my dear aunt, my mother’s sister, whose home has always been a home for me — especially during the years I studied in New York, but also before and after, and in fact, to this very day.
My aunt, who is a learned woman and does not accept everything at face value, asked me: “I read your post. It sounds beautiful, but how do you actually do it? How can you really speak to every person without a sense of superiority?”
“There is one word for it in Chassidic thought,” I answered. “It is called bittul — self-nullification.”
My aunt opened her eyes wide and, in the kind of Hebrew spoken by people who have lived outside Israel for many years, said: “What are you talking about? Bittul? Just like that — bittul?”
I will not presume to define bittul, and perhaps it cannot really be defined. I will only say that I was not surprised by my aunt’s reaction, because among Chassidim, bittul is often perceived as something abstract and almost unattainable.
But our conversation stayed with me for several days, and somehow it suddenly occurred to me that the upcoming parshah, Ki Tavo, contains the secret to neutralizing arrogance — and perhaps even the secret to bittul.
In two words: recognizing the good.
When I say “recognizing the good,” the word recognizing has two meanings:
A. Acknowledging the person who has done good for you — simply saying thank you to someone who has helped you.
B. Actually recognizing the good that we have. Before we even begin to say thank you, we need to look around and notice the good — to truly see it.
When a person recognizes the good in his life and understands that it is a gift he has received, his gratitude comes from a genuine and deeply internal place. And when gratitude comes from such a place, there is no room for arrogance.
Because arrogance can exist only when I consider myself to be something in my own right. But when I say, “Modim anachnu lach” — “We give thanks to You,” when I recognize the good and know that I received it as a gift, I bow my head. And with it, I bow down whatever arrogance may be there.
So how do we actually do it?
Just before sitting down with someone, look inward with clean and honest eyes and recognize that everything we have was given to us. Then acknowledgment becomes gratitude, and arrogance begins to dissolve.
In this week’s Torah portion, across eleven long verses devoted to the mitzvah of Bikkurim, the first fruits, the Torah teaches us precisely how to do this:
A. Sit in your place — professionally or emotionally, spiritually or even geographically — in your good and comfortable place, while knowing that it is a gift from G-d.
B. Take something from your own produce — something you created, something you seemingly made with your own ten fingers.
C. Go backward through your history — not only your own history, but that of your ancestors, even hundreds of years back. Remember where you came from and what you have been through. Realize that, considering everything you and your family have experienced, nothing you have today can be taken for granted. Sometimes, it is not even entirely logical or understandable by ordinary human reasoning.
D. Return to this present moment, when you are settled and at peace, with the basket in your hands — and bow down as an expression of recognition, acknowledgment, and gratitude.
E. And there is another condition, no less important: “You shall rejoice in all the good” that has been given to you.
F. But not alone. Do not rejoice alone. You must share your joy with those around you who need support and help.
Like everything in life, if we want to become good at this, we need to work at it. We need to practice.
From experience, it works.
It is worth it.
And you become a better person.
May we succeed,
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Zalman Wishedski