HONOR OF ILLUSIONS Rav Mendel Kaplan ztz”l would famously tell his talmidim that there’s a uniquely Jewish way to read the newspaper. Using his approach of looking at current events through a Jewish lens can help one find insight inspiration and cause for self-reflection in the most unexpected places.

An example: The wildly over-the-top estimation of Barack Obama that many on the left have is well known. But sometimes however these pronouncements leave the realm of mere praise or even adulation and become something else entirely. Consider this gem from one Kevin Drum writing in Mother Jones:

So what should I think about [the war in Libya]? If it had been my call I wouldn’t have gone into Libya. But the reason I voted for Obama in 2008 is because I trust his judgment. And not in any merely abstract way either: I mean that if he and I were in a room and disagreed about some issue on which I had any doubt at all I’d literally trust his judgment over my own. I think he’s smarter than me better informed better able to understand the consequences of his actions and more farsighted. 

This writer isn’t merely expressing a high opinion of the president — he’s demonstrating what is termed in lashon hakodesh as hisbatlus the utter annulling of oneself one’s intelligence and opinions to another. And as applied to Barack Obama it’s frankly nuts.

Reading those words I had three reactions. One was an initial guffaw at the sheer outlandishness of this fellow. Next was the recognition yet again of the endless human capacity for self-delusion for which liberal punditry tends to be a particularly fertile source.

But after I’d finished having a laugh at the writer’ expense there came the realization that I owe him no small thanks because he provides a wonderful object lesson in how a Jew ought to relate to those who actually are worthy of the kind of hisbatlus he feels toward Mr. Obama. Read with ourselves in mind his words powerfully underscore that however bright and balanced we fancy ourselves there are others operating on a completely different level of depth of insight not to mention Divine assistance. We call those people gedolei Torah. 

I am so moved and heartened every time I reread Rav Eliyahu Dessler’s description of the anashim gedolim he knew:

want to tell you that I had the merit to know several of these great ones personally and I have observed them at meetings on matters concerning Klal Yisrael; such as the Chofetz Chaim … Rabbi Chaim Brisker … and Rabbi Chaim Ozer; and I can tell you with all sincerity that the amazing agility of their minds could be perceived even by puny intellects such as ours; the depth of their wisdom penetrated down into the very abyss; there was not the slightest chance that anyone like you or me could follow completely the crystal-like clarity of their understanding.

And more: whoever was present at their meetings could see with his own eyes the extent and depth of the sense of responsibility with which they approached these matters.… Anyone who did not see this has never seen feelings of responsibility in his life. Whoever had the merit to stand before them on such an occasion could have no doubt that he could see the Shechinah resting on the work of their hands and that the Holy Spirit was present in their assembly.…

Rav Dessler goes on to describe hisbatlus of the truly worthwhile kind:

Our rabbis have told us to listen to the words of the Sages “even if they tell us that right is left” and not to say G-d forbid that they must be wrong because little I “can see their mistake with my own eyes.” My seeing is null and void and utterly valueless compared with the clarity of their intellect and the Divine aid they receive…. 

“This” concludes Rav Dessler “is the Torah view concerning faith in the Sages.”

It’s important to note that liberals like Mr. Drum have no monopoly on providing this kind of lesson. Consider the following snippet of a monologue delivered recently by the Jewish host of a nationally broadcast talk-radio show explaining why he wrote his latest book a runaway bestseller:

This is the whole point … to get as many people as I can engaged in this pursuit the pursuit of knowledge the pursuit of reasoning the pursuit of our heritage our history. Where does this come from? Of course G-d but who did he speak through? Who was influenced? Now folks there are two roads there’s one we’re being dragged down it is a road over the cliff we all see it it’s right in front of our eyes. And there’s another road it’s a road that goes in the other direction back toward what we used to be and who we used to be a proud people proud of our heritage….

We look around us and scratch our heads don’t we? We say how can you be born into the most magnificent society to ever exist on the face of this planet how can you be born to it inherit it and reject it? … Become informed become proselytizers for our society be outspoken there are millions …who need to be roused if we speak to them if we get to them whether they’re family members or coworkers you name it I think we have a chance.

So who is the speaker of these rousing words which sound like the impassioned plea of a Torah Jew imploring his fellow observant Jews to reach out to their estranged brethren to help guide them back “toward what we used to be and who we used to be a proud people proud of our heritage”? Thrilling isn’t it that at last someone with a national following a radio personality and best-selling author no less is imploring disenfranchised Jews not to reject the “most magnificent society to ever exist on the face of this planet”?

But in fact those are the words of the political conservative Mark Levin championing fealty to the Founders and the Constitution they authored. And that’s all fine and good especially for us beneficiaries of the American malchus shel chesed. Yet bright and eloquent as he is of the heritage the history the peoplehood to which he is connected at an infinitely deeper level Levin has tragically almost no inkling. That’s why when I sometimes hear a frum Jew wax effusive about figures like Levin all I can think of is the pain I feel upon hearing him extol the virtues of the treif restaurants he dines in.  

In the brachos that follow the Haftarah we pray for the day when “al kis’o lo yeisheiv zar” a stranger shall no longer sit upon His throne.  Those flawed mortals ensconced on a seat not theirs come from all political quarters. But contemplating the adulation they attract can help teach us about the honor due to He who truly deserves it and to his earthly representatives.

NO GIVING UP Recently I discussed Rav Hirsch’s insight that Hashem summons man to focus less on how things look in Heaven — of which the Torah tells us very little — and focus more on how things look at his workplace and in his home. This is very much in line with the teaching of Rav Chaim Volozhiner that a Jew’s primary concern ought to be more with whether Hashem loves him as measured objectively by his deeds than with the level of his subjective love for Hashem. 

People tend not to think of Judaism as a man-centered system; that’s a description they’re far more likely to apply to l’havdil alfei havdalos something like secular humanism. But what both of the above teachings indicate is that in a real sense Judaism is indeed man-centered because what should preoccupy a Jew’s thoughts is how Hashem views him and what use he’s been making of his brief but priceless time in this world. By ironic contrast secular humanists tend to fill their days with the meaningless pursuit of ephemera. The last thing these celebrators of “Man” are usually eager to discuss is the human potential for ethical greatness and how best to utilize life to actualize that.

In a similar vein along with our belief in Hashem we need to know and feel that He believes in us. We might even say that we reaffirm this idea each morning. Rubbing sleep from our eyes as a new day dawns laden with untold potential we say Modeh Ani concluding with the words “rabbah emunasecha.” Conventionally this phrase is understood to mean that Hashem’s trustworthiness is great as evidenced by His restoration of our souls to our bodies after they’d ascended On High overnight.

But perhaps these words convey too that in breathing life back into our souls each morning Hashem is sending us a poignant message: “I believe in you.” One of today’s spiritual new-age gurus once observed that accompanying each new baby born on this earth is G-d’s implicit message that He hasn’t given up on humanity. A nice thought — but in truth it’s a message each one of us receives upon awakening to our beautiful world each morning.