Fear

INSIGHTS:
The Month of the Bride
In love, as in every other engagement, the one who takes the initiative determines the nature of the encounter

A TELLING STORY: The Military Method
The Rebbe who came to instruct the soldiers and learned something about how battles are won

In the 20th chapter of Deuteronomy, the Torah instructs how a Jewish army is to prepare for battle:

When you come near to the battle, the priest shall approach and speak to the people. And he should say to them: “Hear, O Israel! You draw near today to wage war upon your enemies; let not your hearts soften, fear not, and do not panic nor break ranks before them. For it is G-d your G-d who goes with you, to fight for you against your enemies, to deliver you.”

And the officers shall address the people, saying: “Is there a man [among you] who has built a new house and has not inaugurated it? Let him go and return to his home, lest he die in battle and another man inaugurate it.

“Is there a man who has planted a vineyard and has not redeemed[1] its first crop? Let him go and return to his home, lest he die in battle and another man redeem it.

“Is there a man who has betrothed a woman and has not married her? Let him go and return to his home, lest he die in battle and another man marry her.”

And the officers shall further address the people, and say: “Is there a man who is afraid and faint of heart? Let him go and return to his home, so that he not melt the hearts of his brothers as his own.”[2]

The Talmud cites a disagreement between two sages as to the definition of “a man who is afraid and faint of heart.” According to Rabbi Akiva, “the meaning is as the simple reading of the verse implies: one who cannot stand firm in the joint ranks in battle and see a drawn sword.” Rabbi Yossi of Galilee maintains that the verse is referring to “one who fears because of his sins.” “Thus,” adds Rabbi Yossi, “the Torah added him on to those who return on account of a [new] home, vineyard or wife—to cover up for he who returns because of his sins.”[3]

Rabbi Yossi’s concluding words also explain the reasoning behind his interpretation. Rabbi Yossi is bothered by the fact that the announcement calling for the fainthearted to go home comes after those regarding a new home, vineyard or wife. Earlier, we read how the priest addressed the troops, enjoining them, “let not your hearts soften, fear not, and do not panic nor break ranks before them”; this would seem the natural place to announce that those who fear battle should go home. Why precede its mention with three completely unrelated subjects? Furthermore, a coward in the ranks presents a far greater problem than the possibility that a solider might fail to return to inaugurate his home, redeem his vineyard or marry his betrothed: the former places many lives, and perhaps the very outcome of the battle, in jeopardy, while the latter only concerns the dimensions of an individual tragedy. For both these reasons, one would expect that the first announcement would concern those who are “afraid and faint of heart,” followed then by the other announcements.

This leads Rabbi Yossi to conclude that the meaning of the verse is other than what a simple reading would imply, namely, that the priest’s assurance that “G-d goes with you, to fight for you with your enemies, to deliver you” surely suffices to allay the fears of any anxious soldier—except for the soldier who fears that he is undeserving of divine protection because of his sins. This is why the announcement regarding the fearful is appended to those regarding a new home, etc.—to cover-up for those who depart because of their sins.

Rabbi Akiva, however, does not accept Rabbi Yossi’s interpretation. Despite the said difficulties, he maintains that the verse should be understood in its most literal sense—as regarding one who fears the roar of battle and the sight of a drawn sword—and rejects the notion that it might be addressed to “one who fears because of his sins.”

Rabbi Akiva’s reasoning can be understood in light of a remarkable law cited in the Talmudic tractate of Kiddushin, which deals with the laws of marriage. “One who marries a woman on the condition that he is a perfectly righteous man,” rules the Talmud, “the marriage may be valid even if he is utterly wicked, since it is possible that he had a thought of teshuvah in his mind.”[4]

Such is the power of teshuvah (repentance; lit., “return”). Teshuvah is the ultimate transformation that a human being can undergo—the transformation from a state of rebellion against G-d and disconnection from one’s source of life and the very purpose of one’s existence, to a state of unblemished perfection and union with G-d. Teshuvah consists of three basic elements: a) the cessation of sin; b) the acknowledgment that one has done wrong; and c) the resolve never to repeat it. All three stages, however, are present in a single dynamic: regret. Thus teshuvah can be achieved instantaneously—in a single moment of profound regret.[5]

Rabbi Akiva, who was known for his tendency to focus on what is positive and meritorious in the soul of man,[6] insists that there is no such thing as “one who fears because of his sins,” thus lacking the protection that G-d confers on an army that does battle with the enemies of His people. For if he fears because of his sins, this means that he recognizes that he has done wrong and regrets his deed. Hence, he is no longer a sinner, but a perfectly righteous individual!

Based on the Rebbe’s talks, Shabbat Parshat Shoftim[7] 5727 (1967) and 5729 (1969)[8]

In every relationship, there are times when the “male” or giving partner takes the initiative, and times when the “female” or receiving partner is the one to first express her feelings and thereby stimulate the feelings of her partner.

The question of who takes the initiative has a profound effect on the nature of the relationship. For though the end result is that both of them express their love for each other, the one who takes the initiative determines the nature of the other’s response. When initiated by the giving partner, the response stimulated in the recipient will likewise be a “masculine” response; when initiated by the recipient, the giver’s response will also be of a “feminine” nature, for it will be influenced and shaped by the source of its arousal.

In Song of Songs, which explores the relationship between G-d and Israel through the metaphor of the love between a bride and her groom, we find expressions of both male-initiated and female-initiated love. In one verse, the narratress proclaims, “My beloved is to me, and I am to him.”[9] In another, she says, “I am to my beloved, and my beloved is to me.”[10]

There are times when the Almighty showers us with love and kindness, arousing in us a response in kind (“My beloved is to me, and I am to him”). But there are also times in which we take the initiative, expressing our love and devotion to Him despite His apparent distance from us, thereby arousing in Him His love for us (“I am to my beloved, and my beloved is to me”).

It may be argued that the divinely-initiated love produces a higher and loftier love than that which is initiated by ourselves. When the initial arousal comes from G-d, it is a show of love that is as infinite and sublime as its source, arousing in us feelings that we could never have produced ourselves. Nevertheless, such a love cannot be said to be truly our own. We have been overwhelmed by something that is infinitely greater than ourselves, and our own response is likewise “larger than life,” bearing little relation to who and what we are in our natural state.

On the other hand, the love we generate from ourselves may be less magnificent and glorious, but it is a deeper and truer love. It is an integral love—a love that comes from within and expresses our deepest yearnings. And when we awaken such a love in ourselves, G-d responds in kind, showing us an integral, intimate love—a love that embraces us as we are, rather than transporting us to sublime yet alien peaks of spirituality and transcendence.

The month of Elul is a month in which the love between the divine Groom and His bride Israel is at its height. This is alluded to by the fact that, in Hebrew, the first letters of the verse “I am to my beloved and my beloved is to me” (ani ledodi v’dodi li) spell the word Elul.

It is significant that the acronym for Elul comes from the verse that describes a love that is initiated by the bride, rather than the verse (“My beloved is to me, and I am to him”) in which the initial show of love comes from the groom. For despite its designation as a time for special closeness between G-d and man, Elul is a most “ordinary” month, conspicuously devoid of festivals and holy days (as opposed to the festival-rich month of Tishrei that follows it). Elul is not a time in which we are “lifted up” from our daily routine to the more spiritual atmosphere of a festival day; rather, it is a time in which we remain in our natural state as material beings inhabiting a material life.[11]

For the month of Elul, whose astral sign is the sign of betulah (“virgin”), is the month of the bride. Elul is a time when the initiative comes from our side of the relationship, and the divine response to our love is one that relates to us as finite, material beings and embraces our natural self and personality.

Based on the Rebbe’s talks on Av 27, 5750 (August 18, 1990)[12] and on numerous other occasions

When Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Lubavitch[13] was in Petersburg to attend the Rabbinical Convention of 1843, he received a special permit from the Russian Minister of War to address the Jewish soldiers serving at the military installation in nearby Kronstadt.[14]

When the Rebbe arrived, he was greeted by the waiting soldiers, who said to him: “Rebbe! We’ve been toiling all morning to prepare for your coming, polishing our buttons in your honor. Now it’s your turn to toil: polish our souls, which have been dulled and coarsened by our many years of disconnection from Yiddishkeit.”

Following his address, in which he encouraged their heroic efforts to cling to their faith, the Rebbe said: “You polished your buttons with sand and water. The soul, too, is polished with sand and water: with the holy letters of Tehillim (Psalms) recited with a generous infusion of tears.”

One of the soldiers spoke up: “But Rebbe, battles are won with joy, not tears.”

“So speaks a soldier!” said the Rebbe, with obvious satisfaction. “Yes, you’re right. A soldier enters the fray of battle to the tune of a joyous march, not with tears. It is by the power of his joy that he is victorious even in the most dangerous and challenging endeavors.”

[5]. See stories related in the Talmud, Avodah Zarah 10b, 17a and 18a.

[6]. See Rashi on Talmud, Sanhedrin 110b (section beginning “Shavkei”)

[7]. It is noteworthy that the Torah section of Shoftim (Deuteronomy 16-21, which includes the above cited verses) is always read on the first Shabbat in Elul, the month of teshuvah.

[11]. See The King in the Field, WIR, vol. VIII, no. 54.

[13]. 1789-1866. Rabbi Menachem Mendel, also known as the “Tzemach Tzedek” after his books by that name, was the third leader of Chabad Chassidism.

[14]. This was in the days of Czar Nikolai I, who had decreed that six- and seven-year-old Jewish children be conscripted into the Russian Army for a period of twenty-five years and be indoctrinated into Christianity, G-d forbid. The fact that the Rebbe was granted permission to address the Jewish soldiers at Kronstadt was nothing less than a miracle, since the primary purpose of their conscription was to tear them away from the faith of their fathers.