Rabbi Freedman’s Shabbat Message

Let me be a little kinder
Let me be a little blinder
to the faults of those about me
Let me praise a little more.

Let me be a little meeker
with the brother that is weaker
Let me think more of my neighbour
and a little less of me.

When Glen Campbell penned this song in 1965, I wonder if he realised that he was not just composing a song, but writing a prayer.  I am sure that he also wouldn’t have known that the sentiments contained within the song, fits in beautifully with all of Jewish teaching.  Aptly named ‘Less of me’ it encapsulates the finest qualities of humility found in the Judeo-Christian tradition.

It has been played quite a lot recently following the death of radio-legend John Laws.  He would play this song at the end of each morning programme – the irony was that John Laws was not perceived to be the most humble of men.  His public persona was often associated with wealth and fame, which he flaunted, and on air he sometimes came across as quite arrogant, even bullying the occasional listener. 

I recall once hearing him speak about homosexuals in the most offensive manner.  I remember thinking to myself, what would I feel like if he had been using such abusive language concerning Jews?  A friend of mine, Gary Burns who happened to work for our local kosher caterer, also heard this tirade and filed a complaint against Laws alleging that the comments incited hatred against the gay community.  

The case went to the Administrative Decisions Tribunal, which initially ordered the radio station to broadcast an apology.  The tribunal found that the comments had constituted vilification.  Whether in the end John Laws was forced to make an on-air apology is neither here nor there – his behaviour was not that of a gracious or humble person.

From a Jewish perspective, such matters are important and define a person.

Humility— עֲנָוָהin Hebrew—stands at the moral and spiritual centre of Jewish life.  It is not merely one virtue among many but, in Jewish thought, the foundation upon which all others rest.  From Moses’ description as “very humble, more than any person on the face of the earth” (Numbers 12:3) to the Talmudic dictum that “where there is humility, there is greatness” (TB Megillah 31a), humility defines the ideal human posture before God and others. Jewish tradition, spanning ancient and modern writings presents humility not as self-negation, but as self-knowledge—an awareness of one’s place within the divine order and one’s dependence on the Infinite.

To encounter humility, is to appreciate the authenticity of Campbell’s lyrics as he emphasised the need to elevate others and offer them generous praise even as one minimises one’s own importance or significance.

It was in that spirit that I heard a talk recently by a dear friend of mine – one of Australia’s Roman Catholic bishops.  Speaking about the improved relationship between the Church and the Jewish people – changes brought into effect by Pope John XXIII and Pope Paul VI in the 1960’s – he spoke about his own personal experiences and used the opportunity to praise the rabbis, with whom he has had close relationships, telling the assembled gathering that they had inspired and educated him.   

It was a remarkable speech, unpretentious and unassuming.  His gentle and sincere words inspired the audience, but more than that, made the rabbis, about whom he was speaking, feel that their friendship was not only cherished, but that each one had made a real contribution to inter-faith relations.  In this way, his self-effacement made them feel all the more worthy.

Humility is a characteristic of many of our great biblical heroes and I believe it is an attribute that we are entitled to look for in our religious leaders.  Moses, as has been mentioned, was said to have been the most humble of men, and in this week’s Torah reading, Jacob says of himself: קָטֹנְתִּי מִכֹּל הַחֲסָדִים וּמִכָּל-הָאֱמֶת אֲשֶׁר עָשִׂיתָ אֶת-עַבְדֶּךָ – I am unworthy of all the kindness and faithfulness you have shown your servant. (Genesis 32:11).

This statement when seen in context is plain enough.  Jacob is about to encounter his brother Esau after many years of estrangement so he prays to God for protection and in so doing, expresses most humbly that he is undeserving of God’s blessings.  The wordקָטֹנְתִּי katonti – “I have become small” is the centrepiece of his prayer and continues to generate deep theological reflection.  Rashi, basing his commentary on the Talmud, suggests that Jacob was anxious that he had already used up the majority of God’s blessings granted him in return for his limited meritorious behaviour and as a consequence he felt diminished.  Fearing this to be the case Jacob considered that he may not have had enough merit left in reserve to justify God’s guardianship.

Thus, קָטֹנְתִּי is not self-deprecation but reverent awareness of moral fragility—a sense that one’s righteousness must never be presumed. 

Ramban (Nachmanides) expands upon Rashi’s commentary and suggests that Jacob is an example of truly righteous people who consider their good deeds relatively unimportant in their own eyes.  In this way, Ramban emphasizes Jacob’s self-perception.  The more Jacob experiences divine benevolence, the more unworthy he feels.  This is the essence of humility: the greater one’s closeness to God, the deeper one’s sense of smallness.  Ramban’s language anticipates later Hasidic and Kabbalistic understandings of humility as the natural fruit of spiritual awareness.

Sforno, along similar lines, says that humility is rooted in perspective, rather than fear.  Jacob said קָטֹנְתִּי because he had become insignificant in his own eyes as a result of all the kindness shown to him, as if God had given him more than he deserved.  For Sforno, humility arises not from fear that one’s merits have been depleted, but from the perspective that blessing itself reveals one’s smallness.  Experiencing grace exposes the infinite gap between human effort and divine generosity.  

Radak (Rabbi David Kimhi) focuses on the linguistic dimension of the word when he says, “I have become less than I was before, humbled by the many kindnesses that You O Lord have bestowed upon me.”  Radak’s reading points to an inner transformation, as Jacob encountered the Divine, so his sense of self-importance diminished.  This is the meaning of the verb קטן —small or modest.  Here, קָטֹנְתִּי expresses a spiritual contraction, a “making oneself small” before God.

All of these ideas in one form or other led to the Hasidic idea of bitul ha-yesh—the “nullification of the ego in the face of divine infinity”.  That is why pride and anger, arrogance and impatience, as well as not caring about others, are tantamount to idolatry.  For in all these cases man appears to be more concerned about himself, than the Divine Presence.  Such a person is said to be worshipping himself, rather than the Almighty. 

On this very subject, the esteemed scholar, Rabbi Jacob Immanuel Schochet suggested that God and the self-centred person cannot dwell together.  He writes that such a person is so full of himself that in him there remains no place for God.  He quotes the Baal Shem Tov, who taught that self-aggrandizement is worse than any other sin and to support his proposition he quotes the Psalmist:  גְּבַהּ-עֵינַיִם וּרְחַב לֵבָב אֹתוֹ לֹא אוּכָל “I cannot abide conceit and pride.” (Psalms 101:5)  It is for this reason, said Schochet, that the Baal Shem Tov interprets Jacob’s “smallness” as the necessary precondition for divine revelation:

“Only a vessel emptied of pride can receive blessing.  Humility creates space for God’s presence.”  This statement is in itself an echo of a former teaching found in the Zohar that ‘where there is self-exaltation, the Divine cannot dwell; where there is humility, there is holiness.’ 

Others in the Hasidic world expanded upon these ideas.  For example the Alter Rebbe (Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi) the founding mystic of Chabad Hasidism and the author of both the Shulhan Aruch Harav (1800 CE, a compendium of Jewish Law, not to be confused with Joseph Karo’s Shulkhan Arukh, 1555 CE) and the Tanya (1796 CE, a philosophical treatise on Hasidic Judaism) explained that Jacob’s קָטֹנְתִּי was a form of tzimtzum—self-contraction.  Through humility, Jacob channelled divine energy more effectively.  His sense of smallness did not reduce him; it empowered him to serve as a transparent conduit for God’s will. 

It is no surprise that others in the Hasidic world amplified the thoughts of the Alter Rebbe, most notable the late and revered Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson who added a psychological insight, namely that Jacob’s קָטֹנְתִּי demonstrated that true humility can coexist with confidence and conviction.  Jacob was simultaneously humble before God but also prepared to act courageously before Esau. The Rebbe explained that Jacob’s humility was not about doubting his mission but recognizing that success ultimately depends on divine grace.

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, who had a great affinity with Hasidic teaching particularly that of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, interpreted קָטֹנְתִּי as the prototype of Jewish gratitude.  In Covenant & Conversation he wrote: “Jacob’s words, I am unworthy of all the kindness You have shown me express the essence of humility in the life of faith: the recognition that what we have is not ours by right, but by grace.”  For Rabbi Sacks, קָטֹנְתִּי encapsulates the moral psychology of humility—a stance of thanksgiving that guards against arrogance.  Jacob’s humility does not paralyse him; it motivates him to act ethically and courageously.  Rabbi Sacks calls this “the humility of gratitude,” the awareness that life’s blessings call us to greater responsibility, not self-congratulation. 

Perhaps most inspiring was the notion put forward by Rav Kook that sees קָטֹנְתִּי as the paradox of the spiritual life: the greater one’s soul, the smaller one feels.  Rav Kook wrote that “When the light of holiness fills a person, he senses the infinite greatness of God—and from this, his own smallness.  Yet this very humility broadens the soul, for he becomes one with all existence.”

In a world that equates humility with weakness, קָטֹנְתִּי offers a radical alternative: humility as strength, as spiritual realism.  As Rav Kook taught, “The humble person is great precisely because he knows the greatness of all.”

No doubt this is what Rabbi Sacks was intending to teach when he wrote the following about the Lubavitcher Rebbe, to whom he looked up to with reverence and gratitude: 

One of the most humble people I ever met was the late Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson.  There was nothing self-abasing about him.  He carried himself with a quiet dignity.  He was self-confident and had an almost regal bearing.  But when you were alone with him, he made you feel that you were the most important person in the room.  It was an extraordinary gift.  It was “royalty without a crown.”  It was, in the words of Spencer W. Kimball, “greatness in plain clothes.”  It taught me that humility is not thinking you are small.  It is thinking that other people have greatness within them. 

Glen Campbell wrote a song entitled Less of Me, whether Rabbi Sacks ever listened to this song we will never know, but the advice Rabbi Sacks offered us, suggests he did:

“Humility is not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less.  It is the silence of the self in the presence of something greater.”

Would that we could all aspire to such ‘greatness’. 

Shabbat Shalom

Rabbi David Freedman