WHY SO HAPPY?

In the early years of the Chassidic-Misnagdic controversy, one of the bones of contention was the Chassidic emphasis on joy. The wags within the ranks of the Chassidic movement have suggested that this was not so much a theological issue as a regional personality issue, since Lithuanians and those of the bordering areas in Poland and Russia tended more to saturnine than to sunshine in their personalities.

The favorite joke of my old roommate in Lakewood was, “Why do we read certain portions of Megillas Esther with the Eicha tune? Answer: So that the Litvacks will also be happy. If so, why don't we say the whole thing with the Eicha tune? Answer: That would be holelus/profligacy.” Although I may not have shared the same degree of hilarity over that tired jest, I was always sympathetic to the Chassidic position on the issue of serving G-d with joy.

Even after studying the early source material denouncing the renegade reformers as rowdy revelers raucously rollicking and carousing contrary to common convention, annotated with voluminous citations of the Sages warning against inappropriate gaiety and licentiousness, I wasn't buying. I may have been a Misnaged. I may even have been a miserable Misnaged. But there was no way that I was going to be a champion of misery. My misery most assuredly did not love company. If I was going to hang out with friends and/or acquaintances, I preferred to be around more upbeat people. And when I found myself in the company of the perpetually morose, I considered it my sacred charge to crack them up. (Of course, the “serious” guys looked disapprovingly upon what they considered my comedic excesses).

Despite the fact that my predisposed bias was towards the Chassidic view on this matter, I nonetheless was confounded by a number of questions, which in turn led to conclusions that led me back to the less than flattering stereotypes promulgated by the movement's detractors. The questions being, “What are they so happy about? Do these people really think that sitting around singing a niggun while eating herring (the smellier, the better) with your hands, and tossing back glasses of slivovitz or vodka (as per regional preferences), makes one a happy person?

Over the years, as I read more general Chassidic literature and even kabbalistic literature and the approach of those schools of Jewish thought towards joy, I found the theological theses theoretically sound but hardly attainable on a consistent basis for those not on a particularly high spiritual level. It just seemed like a paradox. In order to attain any truly lofty spiritual level one must serve G-d with great joy, but in order to get that excited over doing a mitzva and the privilege of serving G-d, it would seem that one would first have to be on a fairly high spiritual plane. As to the actual masses that made up the body of the many streams of the Chassidic movement, I found that those who tended to be more intellectual were hardly paradigmatic of the classic effervescent Chassid of folklore. All this, of course, fed into the stereotype of the jolly Chassid being a bit dim in the wit department.

HAPPY AS A STATE OF MIND

Stories of great Tzaddikim known as brilliant Torah scholars and their great joy in the service of G-d, were of no particular help. For example, there is the story of Reb Levi Yitzchok of Berditchev who came late one day to shul for morning services. When the Chassidim inquired as to the cause of his tardiness, he told them that he had woken up that morning and begun thinking about the need to serve G-d that day with joy. However, when he thought about himself and his spiritual state, he concluded that he was such a lowly being that he had nothing in the world to be joyous about. As time passed, he realized that he had to begin his daily supplications regardless. He began saying the morning blessings and when he reached the blessing “that He did not make me a gentile,” he realized that no matter how decadent a creature he was, he was still a Jew and not a gentile, and that itself was sufficient cause to rejoice. And so, he began to sing and dance and that caused him to be delayed.

I had heard that story even as a child and found it inspiring, but not very useful. You see, on my own level, I also had similar inspired moments of great joy over the years (another entry in the weird personal revelations file). Similarly, even at the lowest points of my life, I never had any difficulty with rejoicing at the Torah appointed times, such as Simchas Torah and Purim. (I don't think I ever met the type of Misnaged described in the sichos, who would pinch their cheeks on such occasions to create the appearance of happiness). The problem was that after each joyful high I would crash, sometimes to the point of feeling quite the opposite towards my Jewishness and the burdensome obligations attached thereto. What I needed was to figure out how to hold onto that joy on a regular basis and channel it into a deeper and more enthused dedication to the seemingly routine grind of everyday prayer, Torah study and mitzva performance.

When I began to learn Chabad Chassidus in a serious way, I discovered the idea that each Jewish holiday serves as the source of a particular spiritual energy for the entire year, until that holiday comes around again the following year. As such, Purim, in addition to transforming the entire month of Adar into a month of joy and happiness, is the source of joy for the entire year. This is expressed in the rabbinic obligation to become besotted to the point of “not knowing,” that is - to tap into the joy of the soul that originates from the very essence of the soul which transcends intellect. When one succeeds in tapping into that source, he draws down the capacity for joy within the bounds of intellect and everyday life for an entire year.

I remember thinking, wow, this stuff sounds great, but how does that translate into reality. Later, as I got to know more real people of all levels who identify as Lubavitch Chassidim, I realized that I was not alone in my struggles, but that was little consolation. Especially, since in our generation, the Rebbe repeatedly demands joy more than ever before, to the point that some people walk around depressed because oy vey, how can they live up to the Rebbe's demands and standards as regards the imperative of serving G-d with joy. Additionally, the Rebbe emphatically linked the avoda of joy with the mission of our generation to expedite the True and Complete Redemption, thus providing an infinitely more powerful motive for any Evil Inclination inspired guilt trip.

WHAT, ME HAPPY?

One of the challenges facing those whose minds have been sharpened and expanded through the analytic study of Talmudic exegesis, as well as the more esoteric Inner Dimension of the Torah, is the tendency to complicate rather than simplify. Shlomo HaMelech writes in Mishlei (Proverbs) 20:5 “mayim amukim eitzah b'leiv ish, v'ish tevuna yidlena,”(counsel is like deep waters in the heart of man, and the man of understanding will draw them forth). In the verse, he is acknowledging the great difficulty in deriving practical advice or counsel, for to do so one must dig really deep into his own heart. To successfully extract those deep waters requires a man of “tevuna.” What exactly is tevuna? It is clearly related to the Hebrew word Binah, and is also translated as understanding, but it clearly seems to be different.

Chassidus explains the relationship between the two (Shaar HaYichud ch. 2 and elsewhere) as follows. Binah is the intellectual faculty through which one analyzes and develops a given idea or concept, and therefore its focus is on the purely intellectual rather than the practical implications of that idea or concept, which are implicit therein but remain as “deep waters in the heart.” Tevuna is a component of Binah, but its function is to strip away all the intellectual complexities and intricacies and extrapolate the “bottom line,” or in Chassidic terminology, to determine the “b'chein” (the “therefore”).

The “bottom line” and the “therefore” of every single Chassidic teaching, and of every single Chassidic story, related to the topic of joy, is actually quite simple. Every human being (except those with extreme forms of mental illness) has the power to direct his or her thoughts to whatever topic or perspective that person chooses. When one directs his thoughts towards “me, myself and I,” and sees the world from that perspective, happiness will remain forever elusive even as he continues to pursue it. However, when one “goes out of himself” by directing his thoughts towards that which is beyond himself, and he looks at himself and the world from the perspective of G-d as revealed to us in the Torah, then he will discover infinite number of sources of joy, including that “He did not make me a gentile.”

“I” and “me” will never be able to find and hold on to long term happiness. It is only from the vantage point of “not I” and “not me” that even “I” and “me” can experience and channel true happiness. When I think about what “I” have made of “myself,” if I was to be truly honest I would realize that I have little or no reason to rejoice (as Reb Levi Yitzchok concluded), but when I shift the focus to what “He [did or] did not make me,” only then can I truly experience the joyfulness of my very Jewishness. From there, I can channel that into joy in doing a mitzva, and as the Arizal explains, this needs to be the greatest joy in life.

HAPPY TO BE FREE

“With joy, they will go out.” In order to “go out” of one's self it has to be with joy, and in order to be truly happy it is necessary to “go out” of yourself. This is not a paradox or a “catch-22.” It is the way that G-d set up the world so that even when engaged in the world's idea of the “pursuit of happiness,” we should realize that there is no true happiness outside of Him. Purim, when the Jewish people were at the highest point of mesirus nefesh, ready to sacrifice their lives for G-d and His Torah, that is when they experienced what it was like to go beyond the limits of their finite self-centered beings and connect to the infinite soul powers. And that is when they experienced true joy and happiness. And in that state of happiness, they voluntarily reaffirmed their acceptance of the Torah.

Never throughout the history of the Jewish people has there been a leader who incessantly repeated the need for joy, and that “joy breaks boundaries,” as in our time. That is because we are the strangest generation. By any system of reckoning we have to conclude that we are the closest generation to redemption, and yet the Evil Inclination has us walking around feeling that we are further than ever before. He does this by making sure that we keep our focus on what we naturally tend towards, which is “me, myself and I.”

The Rebbe, who keeps reminding us how close we are, and then informs us when we are not just close, but we are already in the “days of Moshiach,” must keep on reiterating the need for joy to break us out of the final “boundaries” of our internal exile. This is especially so in the month of Adar and around the holiday of Purim, when we have the capacity to experience “not knowing” and “infinite joy,” which is the preparation for “and all will know Me,” with infinite joy, immediately, NOW!


Positive comments and constructive criticism welcome: rabbizvi@aol.com