In Martin Buber’s Tales of the Hasidim we read that Rabbi Simcha Bunim of Przysucha taught: “Everyone must have two pockets. In the right pocket are to be the words: For my sake was the world created.” (Mishnah Sanhedrin 4:5) “And in the left: I am but dust and ashes.” (Genesis 18:27)
I love this insight because I think it is so perceptive of human nature. There are times we let our insecurities get the best of us. There are times we feel that we had the tools to do better, but we didn’t, and we judge ourselves harshly. For those times, Reb Simcha Bunim says, one needs to get away from the vicious cycle of self-loathing. We must say and feel at those moments: The world was created for my sake. And there are times that we feel a little too full of ourselves. We only see what we have done right, what we excel at, being a little too sure of ourselves. For those moments of hubris Reb Simcha Bunim says, remember that you are made from clay, and you are going back to it. You are not better than anyone.
Reb Simcha Bunim believes in balancing our lows and our highs. If we lean too much in the direction of self-loathing, or in the direction of self-aggrandizing, we will not move forward. There were many times this past year I criticized myself for not saying one thing, not trying another, for wasting time that could be used productively. And there were a few times when I would only focus on the stuff that I finished, on the moments I was productive, on what I had accomplished. I would then go back to criticizing myself for not doing nearly enough. I was stuck.
There is a saying attributed to the Buddha: “Whatever you frequently think and ponder about, that will become the habit of your mind.”
Reb Simcha Bunim teaches us that to break free from the cycle of jumping between two extremes we have to find a balance between our castigating and our praising thoughts. Achieving a balance in our thought process helps us move forward, growing out of habitual thoughts, developing a truer picture of ourselves, our capabilities, and the capabilities of the people around us. We develop more compassion for our mistakes, and for the missteps of others.
After all, we all make mistakes. At the end of the first Torah portion of the year, we read (Genesis 6:6): “And the Eternal regretted having made the human on earth and was grieved to the heart.” The Torah makes a bold statement. The Eternal regrets God’s actions, as God reflects upon what God has done. It is liberating to think that even God needs the two pieces of paper to move forward. It is heartening to know that both the Divine and we must not be correct all the time. The Torah is teaching us that the goal of life is not perfection—the goal is balance. The ideal way to live is to balance our personal victories with the openness to change behaviors and patterns that are unhelpful. In our tradition, we are neither totally perfect nor we are totally wrong, neither completely in control nor completely out of control.
We are living through an extremely difficult time. There are so many times when we feel at a loss, anxious, trying to combat the destructive forces around us without the certainty that our efforts are not in vain. Our nation is finally confronting and engaging in a dialogue about racism, sexism, socio-economic disparity, and environmental stewardship. This conversation has brought to the fore the deep divisions and prejudices that exist in our nation, dividing families and friendships. The COVID-19 pandemic is exacerbating these issues, making clear the limits of our power and of our agency. I hardly think I am the only one to experience the frustration of the corrosion of our morals and our ethics, of the spread of misinformation and the reality of mortality. We are feeling limited, not only in our movements, but in our ability to effect change, to see an end to intolerance, to live in a redeemed world.
This is the time to focus back on Reb Simcha Bunim’s teaching. My feelings of being out of control and out of agency are proportionate to the hubris of imagining that I can solve every situation. Yes, I must stop and face my limitations. I am not the ultimate authority. The buck does not stop here. Therefore, I am not the one who has to fix every single thing. This is a job too big for any single individual. However, when we acknowledge our limitations, we are not giving up. Reb Simcha Bunim tells us to pick from our collective pocket the note that says, I am but dust and ashes, internalize the idea that we are not the ultimate authority, and get to work. Because on the other pocket we have the phrase that will continue to push us forward in the direction of action, For my sake was the world created. The balance of these two pieces of paper says to us—we are limited, and we have the potential to help God make this world a better place.
As Rabbi Tarfon teaches us in the Pirkei Avot (Chapter 2:16): “You do not have to complete the task, and you are not free to abandon it.”
There is comfort in knowing that a balanced view of humanity includes what we can do, what we must do, and the certainty that as humans, we are not meant to be perfect. There are limits to the power of human beings, and we count on God to connect us with our inner strength and with others to work on ways to better our world. Any time we waddle in the illusion of control, it is time to take the note from our left pocket that says I am but dust and ashes. And when we realize we have an obligation to work alongside with the Eternal to bring in a time of peace, of health, of love to this world, we take the note from our right pocket that says the world was created for my sake. Although surely limited, we can play a powerful role when we help God make this world a better place.