Thought

It would appear that one of the differences in approach between western culture and judaism is that western culture takes an approach that has “thought thinking itself,” otherwise known as – philosophy, and from the opposite direction, “man thinking himself,” otherwise known as – literature.

Judaism takes an approach that has “man thinking the thought.”

Philosophy attempts to grant thought its own independent status, as a independent entity, according to a mathematical ideal, whose guiding line is the aspiration toward objectivity. As though thought could exist without a thinking human being and without any need for a reality that forms the foundation of the thought As though thought had no right to exist as a simple human need to express one's inner being, as well as to understand reality. This arbitrary and artificial approach ignores the existential-human dimension, which explains the human need to react against it by moving to the opposite extreme: “Man thinking himself.” This is an expression of disappointment with the attempt to deepen one's understanding of oneself by means of philosophy, which over the course of time has increasingly distanced itself from the human dimension, and closed itself inside the academic ivory tower, to inspect, examine, bore and dig into problems that have no connection with man or existence, and relate only to the rules of their own game – mathematics.

Literature draws its sensations and experiences directly from human existence, in the hope of understanding the events that unfold for existential man. There is no doubt that in the competition formed between philosophy and literature, it is literature that has emerged victorious and that continues to bloom and flourish and create new demensions in the realm of human existential experience, despite all the doom and disaster prophesized for it by the experts of literary criticism, whereas philosophy has been pushed to the sidelines of epistemology, philology and semantics.

Judaism views the Torah as the first premise, as the law of life that brings the sensations of human existence into encounter with the Godly presence as a given. Assumed as a given, it possesses a spiritual, ideational, and existential presence of its own, while at the same time it also constitutes a solid ground of certainty that obligates human beings to relate to it, endowing this human act of relating with the raw materials of value, content and the information necessary for its own understanding of itself, as the sole outlet to an understanding of multi-faceted human existence.

It is no coincidence that abstract forms of expression are not to be found in the Jewish classical sources, neither in the Bible nor in the Talmud. A style of continuous metaphor characterizes the narrative. It is laden with anecdotes, bits of life's wisdom, and lyrical poetic expressions that attain such levels of the sublime that it is difficult to find their equal in the literature of the ancient world. The Yiddish language, a Jewish linguistic creation par excellence, lacks a fixed grammatical or syntactical structure and has no abstract expression whatsoever. Yiddish is a collection of metaphors and picturesque deployments of language, steeped in humor and loaded with witticisms. It is a quasi-literary and metaphoric approach that clothes the idea in human flesh, sinew, and skin, enabling the analysis of a conceptual principle from many perspectives as seen in the tales that unfold within a tangible reality. Yet behind the veil of the narrative lies a message that holds a conceptual principle.

The Intellectual and Spiritual Challenge

(The two [the spirit and the intellect] are shown in Jewish thought to be a pair of Siamese twins – utterly inseparable.) Peering through the cracks, one discerns a methodology par excellence, laid out neatly and clearly, and accessible to those scholars who delve deeper, into what is called “the inner space of the Torah.” This is not a reference to the mystical perspective, which is like a wedding canopy crowning a sanctified reality. We must conclude that one may not sever from the narrative in order to attain an insight, whether it be a localized or an all-encompassing insight. The narrative, and indeed the Jewish classical sources as a whole offer a broader and more profound message than the reams of philosophical, academic and professional literature. In the language of the legal profession, for example a legalist must resort to an entire page in order to describe relations of rights between two people. “One benefits, while the other loses nothing,” is the Talmudic formulation – much more encompassing and to the point.

This commentary is a modest attempt to follow the development of a reflective perspective as it crystallizes through the narrative. This reflection should not be confused with philosophy; it does not deal with definitions of itself. Rather, it follows the narrative of the Bible and demonstrates a continuous, consistent and systematic development, from one Biblical portion to the next, to coalesce into a key concept of moral values and principles that comprise the Godly idea. Almost incidentally, our reflection addresses basic components of certain slippery principles and concepts, in a logical manner that navigates among the pitfalls and contradictions that fill the Scriptural narrative. This is no coincidence and completely intentional, designed to prevent the reader from running through the narrative. The reader is forced to a halt and must peer into the words in order to extract their inner meaning.

Thus for example in the tales depicting our national ancestors, the narrative builds toward an orderly methodology for serving God in a manner suitable for the gifted, for those possessing exemplary spiritual power. In contrast, in the narrative of the Exodus from Egypt, a normative methodology is described, one that is within hand's reach, that is suitable for serving God as a community.

Fundamental concepts such as Divine Providence versus free choice, “lower awakening” (man initiating the connection with God) versus “Higher awakening” (God initiating the connection with man) reward and punishment versus the attachment to God that is free of considerations of utilitarian benefit – all of these find their complementary places in a textual structure that is built to perfection. Here we attempt to define every concept that appears contradictory, whether in itself or in relation to a concept that stands opposite to it in the text. The many who have fallen into the trap of “to each his own philosophy” have tried to find differences of opinion among the Biblical commentaries, who often appear to be disputing among themselves. This is not the case.

As it turns out, after all has been said, the western perspective lacks the element of the human relationship to reality. This explains western man's sense of alienation and detachment, as well as his compulsive attachment to mechanical defense mechanisms and arbitrary game rules. What is lacking in the west is a focus upon developing the “wisdom of life,” at which Judaism excels. Admiring wisdom and placing the wise person on a pedestal are tendencies found only in the Jewish culture, and – in the Chinese culture. These are the two ways to wise living found in the world. Whereas Judaism deals with a reality that encompasses heaven and earth, including the dimensions of height and depth, Chinese wisdom is limited to what is to be found at eye level only. The west does not deal with wisdom at all, being uninterested in the qestions of “why” or “to what purpose,” and limiting its interst to the mere technological “how.” Chinese wisdom, say the sages of the Talmud, was bestowed upon remote China through Abraham, who bestowed “gifts” upon the children of his concubines. It was a wisdom about life; the wisdom of the Chinese was the precious gift bestowed by the father of our nation upon his descendants from concubines.

This explains the richly packed treasure trove of life's wisdom and fundamental principles that are to be found in all those Jewish anecdotes, incisive comments, witticisms and jokes that are hopelessly impossible to convey in abstract form through lifeless words, and to attempt to do so would be useless.

In one of his books, Holocaust survivor and writer Eli Weisel relates the story of his visit to the Rebbe, the Hassidic master of Vishnitz, to whom Weisel's family had been attached prior to the annihilation of European Jewry. As was his custom, the Rebbe took an interest in his occupation and inquired as to his source of livelihood. “A writer,” answered Eli Weisel. “Do you write also tefillin (ritual phylacteries) or only mezuzahs,” the Rebbe continued, concerned for this child of his disciples. “No,” replied the author. “I write stories.” “Stories that happened?” the Rebbe wondered. “No, I invent them in my imagination.” “Why then,” the Rebbe cried out in dismay, “you are a liar!” What you learn from this is that Judaism does not accept the western literary approach of man learning himself, which lies outside the context of existential reality and outside the context of Godly wisdom.

God, man and universe are the main topics with which the Torah deals, through examining and considering and pinpointing each one's specific, primary character, in order to uncover the rule-governed system that controls it, and simultaneously in order to learn the law of Godly unity that governs their merging into one harmonious, tightly integrated whole.

From this we may comprehend the many intellectual attempts to resolve imaginary contradictions that appear in existential reality.

The Role Played by Cochot HaNefesh

The Faculties of the Physical/Emotional Life Force

(Alternatively, Traits of Character and Personality)

I have no intention of dealing, in this book of mine, with the ultimate first premise. Nor do I even attempt to address the guiding lines raised by our sages, based upon the fundamental premises of the Torah, derived from the verses “Do what is honest and good,” “Be holy,” “Be in awe of your God,” and others. Nachmanides has dealt with these issues in his commentary on the Bible, Maimonides in his “Fundamental Tenets of Faith,” and others. I have no intention of butting my head against these lofty mountains. A small niche and a modest garden of my own to dig – this God has granted me in his abundant lovingkindness. A drop from the ocean. I am rather like the little child amusing himself with seashells, playing upon the shore of the great sea, imagining he is busy with the mysteries of creation.

All my life I have been intending and attempting to understand the true nature of the forces of personality, the faculties of the life force, which play the role of instruments acting upon and activating man in his service of his God. What is the structure according to which the forces of personality function, in their effervescent, volcanic passage through the conflict formed between the forces of the spiritual and the forces of the physical? Is it as the sages of the Talmud say of the human condition? “Woe is me, because of my creature urges, and woe is me, because my Creator urges.” What is the nature of the relationship between the “good urge” and the “evil urge?” Between the mind, the emotions and the senses? Between the sacred and the secular? What is the route along which the forces flow that create the golden mean? What is “the self-rousing force” that Maimonides views as the key to solvng the mystery? (In his work “Eight Chapters” that introduces the mishnaic tractate Ethics of Our Ancestors.)

Is it really true that a state of war existes between spirit and matter? Is that what is implied in “one nation will grow strong at the expense of the other, and the greater shall serve the younger?” Is it possible to find a graduated continuity of dynamic flow, that is, a bi-directional flow from dormant potential to actualization and from actualization back to new potential, i.e. from the tangible to the meaningful and from the meaingful back to the tangible? This would require a meaning that sends forth directions for action, a meaningful content charged with the potential for tangible actualization, through the raw materials of the physical world that await a value-driven expression.

From extensive investigation of the behaviors of those who serve God, it appears that aside from the preoccupation with principles, the great thinkers of Ethics dealt with another perspective as well. According to the great early commentaries such as Maimonides and Nachmanides, as well as the Hassidic and exegetical thinkers, Ethics and other sources deal with the emotional perspective. An in-depth and ongoing discussion takes place in the Jewish classical sources, which addresses the place and the role of personality forces and traits of character, which form a structure and a dynamic process that moves from dormant potential to actualization. These forces are sometimes referred to by the term midot, and sometimes by their direct name, cochot hanefesh.

In our investigation of this phenomenon, we have made use of an actively functional structure that is characterized by a graduated development passing through three levels. This structure is reflected in a scriptural verse whose words, according to ancient custom, are switched about: “For Your saving I have hoped, O God.” Alternatively: “I have hoped, O God, for Your saving,” and “O God, for Your saving I have hoped.” We have made use of this triple structure in order to support a description of three different three different states to which every man is given. From an existential, survival-oriented state dealing with the mechanical conditions into which one is thrown. This is a condition that deals with the body and the emotions, in order to protect oneself and in order to pursuewhat will sustain one's body and emotions. It is inappropriate to view this condition as a posture hostile to the needs of the spirit. Rather, it leads toward them. We can understand from this how critically important it is to recognize these processes so as to control them and so as to guide them toward their coveted purpose. “Hearts are drawn after actions.” This saying alludes to a process. “Do not wander after your hearts and your eyes.” Again, a process.

The idea of a structure of personality alludes to parts within a whole. Character traits are seen as components within the personality. There is a dynamic process through which all of these components flow, and make contact with one another in a way that affects them all mutually, so that they all join together in the general flow of action. Thus all the components cooperate to produce behavior that is purposeful, and that has a value-driven dimension as its determining element. This is indeed how personality development is viewed by the Talmudic sages and by the great early commentators such as Maimonides and Nachmanides, of blessed memory.

The needs of existence or the needs of the body do not exist separately in themselves. They are never freed from the influences of the emotional needs. Nor can the emotional needs operate independently of the spiritual needs. “For not on bread alone shall man live,” and “a righteous man shall live on his faith.” That is to say that the components of personality exert reciprocal influences upon one another. It is worthwhile to attempt to trace the route along which the various forces of personality meet and connect with one another. An in-depth examination of this topic points consistently toward rules, methodologies and paths of action. Being consciously aware of them enables one to control them. The deeper one's understanding of these processes, the more effectively one controls them. Attempting to control the emotional and physical forces without consciously understanding their processes leads to a distortion of the entire system – a distortion that leads to: “No man sins unless a spirit of stupidity has entered him.” From here we may derive an understanding of the operational methods of the “evil urge” and of the “good urge,” of the ascent and fall of one who serves God.

At the first stage, the bodily needs are awakened. Man is in a state of existential distress. He is in need of funds, for example. “He turn[s] hither and thither, but sees there [is] no one” from the circles of his close friends who is willing to perform an act of kindness for him, and so he turns to the circle of his more distant acquaintances, yet no deliverance comes from them either. In despair, he turns to one of the members of his synagogue who is not of his acquaintances. Suddenly, unexpectedly, there is a response. He is helped willingly and generously, in a gentle, sensitive manner, beyond anything he has anticipated. The next day, he will feel a need and find it a pleasure to inquire after the health of his new acquaintance, and to converse with him. The erstwhile stranger is suddenly discovered to be a fascinating individual. Conversing with him is enjoyable; his comments are pearls of wisdom. At this stage, a personal connection forms between them. It is not for the sake of personal gain. As the process advances, “the love that is not contingent on anything” develops between them, to the point that they profoundly identify with one another – to the point that each sees the other as the materialization of his own self. Each delights in the other's happiness and is oppressed by the other's trouble. Each would gladly renounce his own needs for the sake of his friend's needs; they have attained the level of mutal identifying intended by the verse: “ 'Love your friend as yourself:' This is the great rule of the Torah,” tangibly actualized. “Love your friend as yourself” means that you reach yourself by way of your friend. This process of gradual evolution from “as yourself” to “your friend” and from “your friend” to “as yourself” constitutes Jacob's ladder: “Its base firmly planted on the ground and its top reaching heaven,” planted firmly as the bedrock structure that leads upward, to the connection between man and his Creator. This structure exists in every dynamic of bonding, whether between two people or between man and God.

“For Your saving:” At first, man senses the problem of his own existence. Survival needs as his basic physical reality stand at the forefront of his awareness. In his state of distres, man appeals to vanity and futility. He attempts brute force efforts; he makes use of the processes of physical matter. Only after all his attempts have proven useless does man despair of the brute force mechanism and turn toward the Creator of the universe, to pour his heart out in whispered anguish. Suddenly, wonder of wonders, his prayer is accepted. His request is fulfilled. From here it is but a short road to gratitude. From gratitude, a personal bond forms, no longer requiring the agency of existential distress. There is no need even for guidance from on high, from the dimension of height – one does not even require values. It is a purely personal connection to the Source of lovingkindness and compassion. “I have hoped, God for Your saving.” This is the stage of longing, of man's yearning for his Creator; it is an outcome of gratitude. Yet this connection is still comprised of two sides. The man feeling gratitude, feeling the debt he owes his Creator – stands on one side, and on the other side, stands the most blessed Creator, Who has become a reality for that person. Man is one reality; the Creator is another reality. Each reality exists on its own, and gratitude connects them. This is the state of awe, of admiration, of the surprising, moving discovery of the King of the universe. This dynamic state has a continuation: A need to know the Creator spurs him, drawing him to attach to Him, to unite with Him by utterly identifying, out of love – as in “God, for Your saving I have hoped. A single Godly reality embraces man and universe. One senses existence as a Godly presence. Within this presence, man's reality is not separate. At this level of attachment, man senses the Creator's needs rather than his own needs separately. Henceforth, he does everything “for the sake of Heaven.” The verse: “At eye-level, I place God before me constantly,” attains a state of existentially tangible actualization. This is faith at the sensory level. The laws of nature have cleared out, leaving space for the law of Godly will. The miracle becomes the natural. The natural is a miracle.

Such unity is attained through full cooperation between head, hand and heart, between inner and outer, between the spiritual needs that have attained their tangible actualization, and the bodily needs that have attained meaning with neither ever needing to push the other aside. It is physical matter sanctified. No hostility exists between components that would appear to be mutually contradictory.

Many have claimed that Maimonides was not extreme to the point of depicting such an ideal harmony as the one described above. After all, his famous “golden mean,” the middle, moderate path is one of his most well-known tenets. Some have gone so far as to claim that Maimonides' “golden mean” reflects the Greek influence, and especially the influence of Aristotle. This is not the case. If the Torah's purpose is to lead man on the route of the righteous, toward perfection, this path does not propound contenting oneself with less-than-perfect. Compromise, which is Aristotle's way, testifies to a belief that man stands no chance of attaining perfection. The moderate path was designed for moderate people, for the weak of mind and of character. It is not for the wise, to use Maimonides' terminology, and it is certainly unfit for the devout and righteous, who strive incessantly for perfection of character. Since the obligation to attain perfection derives from the imperative to “attach to the traits of the Creator,” and since the Creator is coveted perfection incarnate, what does Maimonides' mean by the “moderate” and the “middle” path? Are these what comprise “the good way,” in his terminology?

An examination of the fourth passage of the first chapter of his Laws of Perspective, followed by a comparison with his views expressed in the second chapter raises the concern that a contradiction may exist in his statements. In the fourth passage of the first chapter Maimonides writes:

The straight path is the moderate trait in every opinion and view among all human opinions and views. This means the opinion that is equally distant from both extremes, being nearer to neither. For this reason, the early sages have commanded that a man must constantly be putting his views in order, and assessing them and directing them along the middle road, in order that he might be perfect. How? Let him not be prone to anger, easily enraged, yet let him also not be like a dead man who feels nothing at all, but rather moderate. Let him only feel anger over a major matter that is worth getting angry over, so that the offender shall not repeat his offense. Similarly someone who distances himself from haughtiness to the furthest extreme, and becomes extremely humble of spirit, is considered pious. This is the trait of piety. Yet if he goes only to the distance of the middle, then he will be humble, and will be considered wise. And we are commanded to walk along these moderate paths, for these are the good, straight paths.

Yet further, in the third passage of the second chapter, he writes: “Yet there are perspectives that man is foribdden to adopt in a moderate way, but must in fact distance himself from them to the furthest extreme, and one such is arrogance. For it is not the good path for him to be merely hunble. Rather he must be low of spirit; let his spirit be very, very low.”

“Thus too with anger; it is a perspective that is very, very evil. It behooves man to distance himself to the furthest extreme, and teach himself never to become angry, even over a matter worthy of anger. They therefore commanded that he distance himself from anger to the point that he trains himself to never become angry, even over matters worthy of anger. And this is the good path” (Maimonides).

Is Maimonides really retracting, in the second chapter, the opinion he has just expressed in the first chapter? There he recommends “the moderate measure in every single perspective” and here he demands that we adopt the extremes for the traits of humility and anger, the very ones he brought as examples of the need for moderate traits in chapter one.

Nachmanides, in his “Letter,” views the worship of God as a process along a track, with arrogance at one extreme is arrongance and humility at the other. The one closer to arrogance is wicked, the one closer to humility is righteous, and the one who attains the furthest extreme of humility on the track – is devoted to God.

There is also the well-known midrashic source, a breita by the saintly Rabbi Pinchas Ben Yair, which depicts the paved path of Divine worship along predictably defined stages, from “caution” to “enthusiasm” to “renunciation,” with “sanctity” as the banner waving at the highest extreme. The Path of the Just, considered the basic text and guidebook for every servant of God, builds on this midrashic source, guiding the seeker on the road leading to the house of God, while ignoring the path of the earlier commentators such as Maimonides and Nachmanides. In Path of the Just, humility is located in the upper third of the track, but it is not the highest pinnacle. That is to say, there are levels that are higher than humility. As opposed to Nachmanides, on the face of things, and as opposed to Maimonides, who views the middle perspective as the peak of perfection.

It is worth pointing out that Maimonides' use of the term de'ah, perspective, is distinct from the term mida, measure, which the other commentators use for the description of character traits, whereas for Maimonides it is no more than a criterion of measurement, a mere indicator of a particular situation.

It is because of this difference in terminology between Maimonides and the other commentators that this seemingly blatant contradiction can be understood as testifying not to a dispute between methodologies but rather to a distinction between two approaches. One approach deals with the description of perfection as a value in itself, whereas the other describes the process of perfection as it is expressed in human behavior.

Rabbi Pinchas ben Yair's breita is the approach that deals with the description of the levels of perfection in themselves, as they are, as components that comprise the track, or the rungs of Jacob's ladder, firmly planted on earth, with its highest rung reaching heaven. This ranking, and the definition of each stage, is not subject to dispute, because later commentators may not dispute the view of a breita. In contrast to the given, undebatable nature of the breita, the human condition is fully accessible to debate. One may indeed delve into the flowing dynamic of the human character traits, and one is even obligated to examine them with close and careful rigor: What is the role played by these traits, at each and every stage, on each and every rung of the ladder? By such rigorous investigation, a state of perfected character traits may be established, for one who has attained the stage of renunciation, as well as for one who has attained humility, or purity. From a perspective of perfected character traits, it is possible to attain a state of perfection even while yet only at the stage of renunciation. Someone at this stage is capable of reaching a fuller perfection of character than someone who has already attained the stage of purity, or humility, but who lacks perfection in his character traits. Maimonides views the middle road as the truly human condition of behavior, toward which one must strive. Similarly with traits such as humility or anger. It is possible for an individual to be dealing with his trait of anger, having a personality that is exceedingly prone to anger. Maimonides advises such a person to undertake an effort that will enable him to attain perfection even while simultaneously relating to his effort to control anger. He must relate to anger as a value (as a perspective, a de'ah, to use Maimonides' terminology) in which the mid point is the complementary encounter between the two extremes. The goal here is perfection rather than giving in, which compromise entails. For an individual possessing an anger-prone character, Maimonides advises him to attempt to move to the very opposite extreme – not in order to take hold of the opposite extreme, but out of a profound understanding of the life force faculties. Maimonides knew full well that an individual's intention to reach the opposite extreme would enable him to move himself from the extreme in which he was immersed because of his inborn nature, to the middle. If he would aspire to reach only to the middle, he would not succeed in reaching the halfway point of this route. He would reach only the quarter mark. That indicates that the Godly level described in Rabbi Pinchas ben Yair's ladder reflects an objective value – the object, the heftsa. The subjective individual, the gavra, is the condition of a human being relating to this objective value, whether he relates to it from a state of perfection or from a state of imperfection, all according to the quality of his effort to perfect his traits of character. Thus, the ultimate middle point of a character trait – lies in the heftsa, in the object, whereas the striving for perfection of character, the effort to reach to the extreme of perfection – this lies in the gavra, in the individual, subjective human being.

Humility: The Measure of Quality

Neither does Nachmanides deal with the track of levels of worship, but rather with the quality of the character traits, with the dynamic of human behavior, revealing to us the kea to human character traits, the key to quality of personality and character. The key: The mystery of humility. Humility means distancing from the ego, from from the compulsive preoccupation with survival needs, and exchanging that instead for the expression of the self, which is the locus of qualities and the source of Godly values – the abode of the soul. A humble man is not preoccupied with his existential condition, with materialistic reality. He is rather incessantly preoccupied with cultivating his own situation, transforming it into an expression of Godly presence. It is according to this that he measures his own value and quality at every stage on the ladder. After all, one never finds oneself occupying only one single, exclusive stage on the ladder. Rabbi Pinchas ben Yair's innovation was to define the stages on the ladder. These stages exist; they are fixed and immutable – they do not change according to one's personality. Rather, they change according to one's level. That is to say that one who serves God must relate according to the stage in which he finds himself at every moment. He must cope, at every moment that he serves his Creator, with the state of his own character traits, with the tendencies of his own personality. For these are the variable factors, which change according to the condition of his personality, according to the traits of his character. It is thus possible for one who has attained a high level to fail in the area of character, and thus find himself occupying an extreme, in Maimonides' terminology, having moved far away from the state of perfection, for perfection is the middle point on any of the value-based stages of the breita. Of such a person, it has been said: “Whoever is greater than his fellow, his evil urge is also greater.”

It is thus possible according to Nachmanides that that person may be arrogant, and therefore deficient, despite his occupying a high level, having reached one of the higher rungs of the ladder described in the breita. We learn from this that the labor of character refinement progresses on two separate planes at the same moment. A man climbs the rungs of the ladder according to The Path of the Just. However, truly glorious success in this endeavor eludes him, or if attained – is not lasting, if he does not focus at the same time on his own personality, if he does not occupy himself with processing and refining his own traits – consciously making the effort to improve the quality of his personality and character.

His [high-level] tendency to pull the two extremes together in order to unite them will be his undoing, just as his arrogance will be a stumbling block on his path. Whereas the values of the Torah were established by the Torah itself, as rules and as value-driven goals that everyone is commanded to cling to, and to internalize, and these are not given to needless change or interpretation, nevertheless in the realm of the life force faculties, in the sphere of the character traits – it is a mitzva – man is commanded to delve as deeply as possible, to be constantly investigating his own situation at every moment and under all circumstances, by incessant delving into his own character traits, into the faculties of physical and emotional life force that comprise his behavior. These are called midot, the traits, the “measures” of character, and their influence upon his service of God is critical. These faculties have the power to affect the quality of his spiritual level, on the ladder described in the breita. The life force faculties are perpetually immersed in a process of incessant change, being constantly affected by influences from the environment, and by the responses that arise from his innermost self under the influence of the external stimuli, in keeping with the quality of his personality,, which is coping with the external stimuli versus the values that obligate him from the dimension of [spiritual] height.

We are dealing, therefore, with the problem of behavior. Any wise person who closely studies the human spirit is herewith given the privilege and the obligation to delve, to explore, to clarify and to inerpret – to the extent that God endows him with the ability to do so, for he is “as one who raises himself in order to raise others.” See more on this in Emunah u'Bitachon, by the Chazon Ish, who states in no uncertain terms that we are obligated to deal with these matters, for they are critically important to success in the service of the sacred. “May God grant that our portion be with those who dwell in the halls of Torah study.”