I am working on a new project, the study of mussar. Mussar is a form of Jewish literature that looks at character attributes. Developed in the 19th century by Rabbi Salanter and others, it was about elevating the soul and putting the pieces back together to cause a sense of shlemut, wholeness. It combines spiritual practices of meditation, silence and diary writing. It reminds me of Benjamin Franklin and his journal about his own character where he would work on one attribute a week. He had thirteen of them. (See the connection with the 13 Attributes of the Divine?) http://www.school-for-champions.com/character/franklin_virtues.htm On the list, humility, the first one practitioners of mussar study. He felt he should imitate Jesus and Socrates.
So what about Judaism and humility? Moses was humble. Even as I write that, I am almost chuckling. I remember a Bible exam in rabbinical school. The exam turned on this very phrase about Moses. Was Moses humble, humbled or was humbled. It is an interesting grammatical differential and changes our understanding of Moses completely. The phrase in English is “And the man Moses was very anav (humble), mare than any other men who were upon the face of the earth.” Numbers 12:3.
The point of mussar is to become aware of the character trait, or soul-trait in you as you go about your day. My phrase for the week is “No more than my place. No less than my space.” You reflect on it in the morning and then journal about it at night. I did the assigned reading. Finished a couple of boxes to sort before packing and moving. I was struck by some things in the reading. While humility has the same root as humiliation, it does not mean we are to see ourselves as worthless nothings. We need to see ourselves as others do, without self-aggrandizement or self-loathing. That is hard for me. I go towards either extreme. However the reading continued that we need accurate self-assessment of both strengths and weaknesses. That’s where humility comes in.
Perhaps the most important part for me was about “humility is occupying just the right amount of space in life that it is appropriate for you while making room for others.” Routinely I get told I talk too much, or I talk too much about myself and that can be off-putting. I don’t mean to. And I am actively trying to control it. I think that is what the mystical concept of tzimtzum is. When G-d created the world, G-d had to take a breath, to inhale, so that there was enough room in which the world can exist. So it is with being a rabbi. It is not about me. It is about leaving enough space so that others can thrive in their own spirituality.
As a treat for finishing some of the packing on a gorgeous summer day we went to play mini-golf. Now I bet you are wondering, what is the connection between humility and mini-golf. At some point during the course I missed an easy shot–and I said outloud, “That’s to keep me humble.” I also was just having fun with my family and didn’t feel the need as I have in the past to make it super competitive. It was more fun to cheer each of us on, where we were in our abilities, not worry about first, second and third place finishes. However, I enjoyed getting a hole-in-one even as I realized that it was more luck on that particular hole than any particular skill I possess. Eventually, with enough focus and without some distractions, I wound up winning. I could have gloated. My daughter said I did smirk. So yes, I learned more about humility through mini-golf. I guess this process is working. We will see what else come up organically as I continue to think about humility.
I totally agree with you about the balance needed in terms of humility–neither grandiose or self-deprecating, having a realistic sense of one’s abilities and being comfortable using them. I have to work at listening more and talking less, being there in the moment for others. My work as a director/group facilitator depends on my continuing development of this skill. Self-disclosure can be good and helpful in many instances, but when push comes to shove, listening makes me better at what I do than talking. I do love your connecting thus all to mini-golf, and as always, you impress me with your perceptiveness and writing style.
Balance is always tough. I think that is why I always like the rock on South Bubble Mountain in Bar Harbor. It is called Balance Rock and hangs over the edge of the mountain precipitously. I usually have a picture of it in my office…now if I can only find enough balance in my life to find it!
Wow! I liked that one, it really made me think. I too tend to talk too much…so locking us together in a room would be dangerous. I think I’ll work on this attribute this week and take a breath! Well written Margaret!
Locking us together in a room would be a blast. We would find the balance. We always did! Come to Chicago! In the meantime, I will work on this talking too much thing too.
1. I don’t play competitive sports well, and recall coming to grief during mini-golf– something about whacking the ball thro’ the windmill, or the Boeing 747, didn’t feel right. 2. Chaim Grade’s big, blocky doorstop of a novel, “The Yeshiva,” traces the life of one Rabbi Atlas (the name is symbolic), who heads a Mussar Yeshiva similar to Slobodka, I believe. 3. The Mussar Movement of the late 19th Century was a reaction to both Zionism and the Haskalah (Enlightenment), and emphasized an extreme form of modesty and self-analysis bordering, I believe, on abasement: students would wear, for example, a tie made of straw; they would engage in conversations designed to humiliate themselves before “normal” people. This is far from what Dr. Morenis (sic) advocates today, altho’ we could stand some humility, especially those in power. Good luck with your studies!
Since I wrote my rabbinic thesis on the 13 Attributes of the Divine and as an American Studies major who knows more about “New England Religious Experience” than anything else, I have been intrigued by mussar and how it relates to Ben Franklin. Personally I think the discipline could be good, if I (being redundant), strike the right balance. If I just beat myself up in the process I am going backward. Too new to know.
Update: today I found myself on the phone listening to a potential new congregant and trying not to interject too much of my story into his. It was hard for me but a good skill to practice. I was also reminded of a quote from the material about mussar. About people who always sit in the same seat in shul. Usually I tease them. Is it warm and welcoming to think that they have their own special seat? Doesn’t it exclude others from sitting wherever they want? But I read that having a special seat means that others have their own space as well. It actually makes room for them. Not quoting it well right now. Those were the two things I was thinking about today.