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OCTOBER 22, 2020 | The Jewish Home OCTOBER 29, 2015 | The Jewish Home
Think, Feel, Grow
Living with the Original Ideals of Creation By Shmuel Reichman
S
ammy lived in a strange world. From the moment one entered adulthood, the government placed a special belt on them, one that was impossible to remove. This belt served to keep everyone in order. If someone defied a law, or misbehaved, the belt immediately administered an electric shock. The worse the offense, the stronger the shock. Everyone’s private lives were monitored closely, so there was no escaping punishment. Sammy, though, was bright and creative. And most of all, he was tired of living in such fear and submissiveness. He finally decided that he was going to do something about it. But he had one problem: there was no way to dismantle the belt without triggering an alarm that would notify the police. So for months, Sammy tried to think of different ways to circumvent the belt’s alarm. But one day, the miraculous occurred. Sammy’s belt malfunctioned. He couldn’t believe it! Maybe the battery ran out too soon, or maybe the government had lost control of him, but Sammy didn’t care; he was finally free! At first, Sammy felt inclined to break the law. “Anarchy and chaos, here I come!” he happily thought to himself. Every time he broke the law, he relished the freedom he now had. But after a week of this, he began feeling bad about himself and started giving it some thought. He realized that deep down he really did want to be a good person, he wanted to do the right thing. The government had decided that the belts were necessary because society had gotten so out of hand there was no other way to keep peace and order. Only by limiting people’s free will could they ensure everyone’s safety. But Sammy
realized that even without the belt, he still wanted to do the right thing, through his own choice. Weeks went by, and Sammy’s life went on as usual. One day, as he was walking home, a police car stopped right next to him and an officer opened the door. “Hi Sammy, can you please come with me?” Startled and confused, Sammy nervously went with the officer, who took him straight to the police headquarters. “Oh no,” Sammy thought. “They must know that my belt is broken! What if they decide to make an example of me; what if they lock me up? My life is over!” The officer walked Sammy to a strange room filled with thousands of monitors. In the center stood the chief of police. “Hi Sammy, it’s great to finally meet you,” he said. “I know you’re probably scared and confused. Please don’t be; you have nothing to worry about. I want to show you something.” On the monitor, Sammy saw a video of…himself. It was the day his belt malfunctioned. “For the past few weeks, your belt has been out of service. But this wasn’t a mistake. In fact, it was the opposite. You see, the belts are not
ideal, they are only a means to an end. Years ago, they were a necessity. Free will had to be taken away for the greater good. But I believe that we are getting closer to the point where the people themselves can be trusted to make their own decisions, where their lives and choices are once more determined by their own free will. So we decided to use you as our prototype, to see what would happen if we deactivated your belt. And you know the rest of the story. Sammy, thank you for giving me hope in humanity.”
Adam’s Creation Story There is a strange recurring phenomenon throughout Parshas Bereishis: the Torah first describes one model of Creation and then proceeds to depict a completely different, even contradictory, picture of the same Creation. For example: • The first perek of Bereishis (Bereishis 1:27) describes Adam as a being that was created b’tzelem Elokim (in the image of G-d), an inspiring and divine portrayal of Man and his role in the world. • However, the very next chapter (Bereishis 2:7) describes Man as
a physical being, formed from nothing more than the dirt of the earth, a description almost identical to the creation of animals. What happened to the g-dly, inspiring image of man? The key to answering these questions lies in one of the most fundamental concepts in Judaism. The Arizal, Ramchal, Vilna Gaon, and many other Jewish thinkers explain that every process contains three stages: • The first stage is the high, the inspiration, an experience of perfection and clarity. • Next comes the second stage: a complete fall, a loss of everything that was experienced during the first stage. • Then there is the third stage, a return to the perfection of the first stage. However, this third stage is fundamentally different from the first. It is the same perfection, the same clarity, but this time it’s a perfection and clarity that you have earned. The first time it was given to you, now you have worked to build it for yourself. The first stage is a gift, a spiritual high. It’s there to help you experience the goal, the destination. It’s a taste of what you can and hopefully will ultimately accomplish, but it’s not real. It’s given as a gift and is therefore an illusion. It serves only as a guiding force, but cannot compare to the genuine accomplishment of building something yourself. It is therefore taken away to allow for the second and most important stage: building it yourself, undergoing the work required to attain this growth in actuality, to work for the perfection that you were shown.
