Yireh Must Rise Above and Overpower the Tayves

Yireh Must Rise Above and Overpower the Tayves

We’re now at a point where we must begin to work on strengthening our Yiras Shamayim to overpower our tayves. R’ Yisroel delves into this subject in Eitz Pri – the only sefer written by the Alter of Slabodka, which is key for understanding the Or Yisroel in general. I think everything we worked on so far is included in what he says. You’ll see how despite deeply engaging with the text – learning it, reviewing it, and even composing a pirush upon it – after actually working on this subject, it becomes evident that he is addressing a whole realm of avodeh.

R’ Yisroel says: “והנה היראה בכלל איננה נטועה בטבע האדם”

Yiras Shomayim is not innate – it is not part of one’s tevah (nature). הכל בידי שמים – All the other koyches ha’nefesh are inherently present and can be readily evoked and applied; חוץ מיראת שמים – Yiras Shamayim stands apart in that aspect.

“אך כל אדם יש בכוחו להבין ולהשכיל לתקן את עצמו ולהגביר יראתו על תאוותו במדרגה גבוהה”

Even so, every single person has the possibility to make his Yiras Shomayim stronger with his understanding, lehovin u’lehaskil. Yireh is a middeh which emerges from your havoneh, and not from your t’chusha, your emotions. It emerges from your understanding, and you are able to cause the Yireh to surpass the tayveh. Some may question if this is despite the seychel or precisely because of it. I contend, based upon other writings of R’ Yisroel, that it is indeed ‘because’ it is rooted in the seychel.

Nevertheless, the Yireh we speak of is a deeply felt hergesh, an impactful sensation – not to be mistaken for the transient emotions of the American culture, but rather a profound feeling, touching the essence of the person. This Yireh that stems from your seychel can exert greater influence and overpower even the most compelling tayveh.

“וכמו שאמרו חז”ל: ‘חייב אדם לומר מתי אגיע למעשי אבותי אברהם יצחק ויעקב’ “

The demand is not to attain the dargeh, the precise level of the Avos – but rather to emulate how their Yireh was stronger by bringing it to a higher place than the tayveh is. It is this aspect of their character – this hisgabrus, this dominance of Yireh over tayveh – that we are striving for.

 “כי כל איש יש בכוחו להעלות את יראתו גבוה למעלה מן התאווה כמו בענין העקידה”

Here, we see what we previously discussed: how today the term ‘tayveh’ is misused; the way it is used by the kadmonim encompasses more than modern connotations of lust or craving for food or other things. Ahavas av le’bno, the love of a father for his son, is classified here as a tayveh – as surprising as it may be – for it is a force within the nefesh that compels without pause for contemplation and reflection; that is the definition of tayveh. 

Thus we have seen so far that it is within every person’s power to elevate their Yireh above all such tayves.

“אמנם אין היראה מתוקנת תמיד במדרגה עליונה אשר יהיה בכחה להגביר חיילים נגד התאוה היותר גדולה”

Here’s the thing: We’ve got a big riddle, a profound conundrum inherent within the concept of Yireh. If it’s rooted in your seychel, that means you’ve got a solid grip on things. You ‘get’ that you must elevate your Yiras Shamayim above your tayves; you have a clear and firm understanding of the lofty toichen. 

At the end of the day though, Yireh is a sensation, an emotional experience. By their very nature, emotions and feelings fluctuate up and down. And this is where it gets tricky: we all like to think that our Avodas Hashem can be built on these feelings. That’s what we want, deep down. Being uplifted during davening, a spark in learning, a buzz from doing a mitzvah, and you feel like, “This is it, I’ve reached the ultimate goal! Now I can build my Yiras Shomayim on this profound feeling!” These genuine feelings tempt us into believing we’ve achieved our spiritual goal, upon which we can solidly build. 

In truth though, it’s akin to building on quicksand. We’ve got to remind ourselves, time and again, that feelings, by design, are fleeting and unreliable, contrary to what some may think. It’s a common mistake – and a terrible one at that. This misconception can be catastrophic, leading some to give up on their Avoidas Hashem when their efforts inevitably falter – sinking into disillusionment and despair. It’s disastrous; the emotional part of Avoidas Hashem, the regesh, has its place – but it can’t be the cornerstone of it all. 

Herein lies the enigma: Although Yiras Shomayim is built and anchored in your seychel, which by its nature is steady and is not subject to change (if your intellect changes, there’s been some error, and that’s not what we’re talking about), Yirah is a hergesh interwoven with your feelings, and feelings have their ups and downs. And that’s just the way it is…

This point seems to be particularly challenging for many, especially in the American tzibbur. They want to have a certain feeling in whatever they do – excitement, connection. They’ve got all sorts of labels for these feelings, which to be honest, sound pretty foreign to me. What does “feeling connected” mean, anyway? Feels a bit like trying to grab hold of some vague notion. And building ruchniyus upon that quicksand?! That’s just bound to end in disappointment and yi’ush.

Feeling inspired is like a bonus; it’s beautiful and rewarding – but feelings alone are not what you want to base your whole Avoidas Hashem on because, let’s face it, they’re not reliable. This is the enigma with Yiras Shomayim; though stemming from the unwavering intellect – the part of you that doesn’t change – it fluctuates. It is not enough that it’s rooted in the seychel; that alone cannot continuously sustain this high madreigah of always resisting even the most intense tayveh.

What must one do then?

“רק כאשר ירגיש ויראה האדם מראש אשר ממשמש ובא לפניו ניסיון כבד, אשר על ידו אולי יכשל בעבירה או יבוא לידי ביטול מצוה -“

First you must face reality; there will be significant difficulty. There will be a tayveh. There will be temptation to go off track. That will surely come, and one should anticipate such stumbling blocks.

“אז מוכרח הוא לבקש תחבולה ועצה מראש להגביר היראה כ”כ, עד שיהיה לבו בטוח כי תנצח יראתו את תאוותו”

Acknowledging this, we come to understand that our approach to Yiras Shomayim must delve deeper than mere contemplation; it involves a much more profound endeavor. One cannot simply claim an unwavering d’veikus (devotion) to Hashem and declare themselves impervious to ta’aveh. R’ Yisroel says that is not the way to work. 

True avodah is to address our challenges head-on. We don’t turn a blind eye to the obstacles that lie ahead. Instead, we must think about these challenges, and devise practical strategies to enhance our Yireh. This way, we strengthen ourselves to face and overcome the powerful allure of tayveh when it surfaces. This is the essence of להגביר יראתו על תאוותו – to amplify one’s Yireh over their desires.

This approach encompasses nearly everything discussed so far, albeit not every detail. It incorporates seychel and contemplation, and how Yireh stems from that. Yireh is inherently a t’chusha – perhaps a deep sense of resonance connected to the seychel – but a feeling after all, and therefore it fluctuates, just as all feelings do. One thing he doesn’t mention is breaking down the simple act of eating into smaller ‘bricks’ that allow Yiras Shomayim to shine through, but that was our approach to dealing with this challenge of practical Yiras Shomayim.

Now we want to experience that we can be stronger than the tayveh, that our Yireh is stronger than the tayveh. We have to face something where we know that there will be a tayveh, and I think the best place is by Tayves A’chilleh, because it’s so common, it confronts us repeatedly throughout the day; an experience so routine, so predictable. It embodies the criteria set forth by R’ Yisroel.

It is crucial to understand that when working Yiras Shomayim, and our avoidas Hashem in general, our goal is not to be a tzadik. That is something that may naturally occur through earnest self-improvement, but it is not the direct aim of our va’ad. I think that is clear from the choice of addressing the seemingly mundane issue of Tayves A’chilleh. This particular challenge is not regarded as exceedingly great or as a formidable nisoyen, for typically, it is an area where people think that grave errors are not frequently made.

Nonetheless, it is here, in the available and predictable daily routine, that I look for an experience of personal mastery over tayveh. Achieving control in this simple space – which involves the Tayves A’chilleh – provides a foundation on which to grow. Eventually, we might discuss predictable challenges of greater magnitude and difficulty. In those areas too, we must discover our inner strength. But let us begin with this experience where it is simpler.

It’s not like I particularly enjoy discussing Tayves A’chilleh – it feels like grappling with matters of lowly nature. Yet, even within this ‘dirt’, there is potential to unearth meaningful insights, akin to sifting for gold. Why should we shy away from delving into a subject diligently explored by our predecessors? My intention isn’t focused on confronting the Tayves A’chilleh; rather, my primary goal is cultivating a deeper and firmer sense of Yireh. Acknowledging that previous generations confronted these very same challenges, might render the topic less awkward for us.

In Kelm, for example, food was anything but sophisticated and indulgent. R’ Dessler attested to the Mashgiach that the austere diet of plain wheat meal and milk, without sugar or other flavorings, was remarkably effective; subsequently, all food tasted better by comparison. 

Even so, when R’ Nochum Ze’ev, son of the Alter of Kelm and father-in-law of R’ Dessler, once exhibited as a bochur a slight sign of excitement while eating, The Alter confronted him with extreme intensity; warning a repeat ‘offense’ would warrant a rebuke so powerful, it would leave him without appetite for days. 

These tzaddikim applied a rigorous approach – in today’s times, employing such severity, especially with one’s children, will very well lead them toward all other kinds of tayves as well in their quest for escape. They were built of steel and could handle such an approach, but today we can not adopt this harsh methodology.

Therefore, we are contemplating specifically how Yiras Shomayim ties in, rather than directly confronting Tayves A’chilleh. Do not feel uncomfortable that we have chosen to discuss Tayves A’chilleh. It is grounded in the precedent of the previous generations. Although we will not directly address it, through the cultivation of Yiras Shomayim that we shall fortify ourselves to be stronger than the tayveh.

Now, our mehalech so far has essentially been to reflect on the fact that the Borei Olam wants to bestow kindness upon us – allowing us to perceive His chesed, to feel our reliance upon Him, and to savor the tuv Hashem. It is not only an abstract hashpoeh; it is a tangible experience that even has a flavor – we taste the generosity of Hashem that imbues food with a delightful richness, a real Geshmak. We strived to incorporate this contemplation into our routine of eating.

In a sense, it can be likened to ‘softening the front’ or ‘weakening the positions.’ Now, I’m aware that reading military strategy is not typically done, yet the metaphor stands. When confronting an enemy, one initial tactic is to soften their defenses, to ensure they are not so deeply entrenched and firm. This is precisely what we have accomplished thus far.

Our goal so far has not been to make the Yiras Shomayim overpower the tayveh; rather, it has been to recognize that within this very taste, there lies an aspect of tuv Hashem. Why see it only as an expression of personal rotzen? Why focus solely on yourself? Instead, we should think about Hashem in this food.

Our next step involves becoming so resolute that under no circumstances should tayveh gain entry. But the groundwork laid makes this easier, since our ‘territory’ is no longer as fortified and rigid. Facing an intense tayveh can be daunting; it confronts you unapologetically and seems insurmountable. However, now we find it more pliable, like a field softened and ready for work.

So, what are we to do with this Tayves A’chilleh? It is crucial to steadfastly maintain both our Yiras Shomayim and our alignment with the will of Hashem, even against all odds. To simply decide this internally isn’t enough. There must be a tangible action that embodies this decision.

I’ve found a particular practice to be effective. It involves adding a minor, but deliberate, gesture to the act of eating. When you eat, after taking a bite, pause and place the fork or the food down. With each subsequent bite, you briefly put it down again.

This seems terribly difficult because Tayves A’chilleh is a hovering presence, a constant state of being ever-prepared for the next bite – muchen ve’omed, as it were. That incessant readiness is a signature תנועה of Tayves A’chilleh.

Yet, here we make a stand. If we cease for even just a second, the landscape changes dramatically. This requires fortitude; it is not another mehalech or about seeing something deeper in the food. Instead, we enact what may seem like a small, seemingly insignificant deed of restraint, challenging the Tayves A’chilleh. It is a confrontation, yes, but not as fierce as we might have imagined, because our prior efforts have already lessened this terrible force.

Through this simple, purposeful action, you will come to realize, “I am greater than this fleeting desire.” It is within your power to rise above. This sense of romeimus, of transcending tayves, is what we are aiming for. It’s not arbitrary when it is said that one should be “lamalo mitavosoh” – above their desires. It requires intentional action, a conscious elevation above our natural inclinations. We must be firmly rooted in the hergesh of deciding not to be nimshach by the tayveh, to feel and know that we are, indeed, above it. Always, we must remember, “I am above.”

Certainly, the simple act of placing down your fork between bites may seem inconsequential, especially when not coupled with a strict diet. This is not about instilling etiquette or advocating for a particular manner of consumption merely for propriety’s sake. The benefit of this action might appear minuscule as the tayveh may not seem momentous.

It could, however, represent a terrible tayveh. Consider the words of the Vilna Gaon: each indulgence adds chibut hakever, a most disturbing image indeed. He paints a vivid picture where each bite taken in excess here corresponds to another bite in the grave. This portrayal might seem disheartening and severe – certainly not an appetizing thought. 

We are not adopting this grim approach. Dwelling on such imagery can be detrimental to one’s well-being, both physically and mentally. I mention it merely to demonstrate the gravity with which former generations regarded Tayves A’chilleh due to their immense Yiras Shomayim. While we do not tackle it in the same fashion, it is vital that we are at least cognizant of its significance. 

This exercise, though simple, can be profound in affirming our ability to transcend our desires. We are not so feeble that we allow our cravings to pull us about willy-nilly. By asserting a position above our base desires, and reinforcing it through this exercise with Tayves A’chilleh, we experience our own capacity for self-control. This work, admittedly, might involve delving into ‘less-than-elevated’ areas. It’s true, it might feel undignified; desires are not typically noble or refined. When Yiras Shomayim must become greater than tayveh, it must rise above something inherently ugly. Therefore, we must face it head-on if we wish to bolster our Yireh of Hashem.

This was actually a question posed to me by a man as old as my father: Why enter into this unseemly struggle? Should we not focus on loftier things, for “you are where your thoughts are”? 

But is that saying truly reflective of our reality? Consider the way we think today – how long can you dwell on a single topic? At most a minute, perhaps less. If one is indeed where their thoughts are, then it would be a constant state of disarray, shifting erratically with each fleeting idea, akin to being thrown about by the kaf ha’kelah. Surely this doesn’t serve as a stable foundation for personal growth; that’s why I value being present within my physical body, steadfast and fixed.

But why are we fooling ourselves?! If one could sustain a directed train of thought for hours on end without interruption, then indeed, one might truly be where they think. But with minds as fickle as they tend to be, such a notion holds little weight to me. So let us not deceive ourselves; just echoing what tzadikim said as a slogan will not actually help you with combating the tayves. 

It may be tempting to sidestep dealing with tayveh, likening it to digging in the dirt. Yet, we must engage in this work because the ‘dirt’ – the underlying factors that ensnare us – are indeed far more pervasive and detrimental than we might initially perceive. Our focus has been Tayves A’chilleh, but there are numerous other powerful drives to consider, such as the widespread fascination with sports, for example.

This fascination is not merely about athletic competition; it’s a craving for belonging, victory, and the excitement that comes from choosing sides. It’s a type of tayveh that thrives on conflict, the allure of ‘us versus them.’ I once inquired of a sports enthusiast, “Why do you not root for both teams?” It became apparent that it is not the love of the game that captivates, rather the conflict inherent in choosing one side over the other.

Such tayveh can envelop people entirely, a real shiflus. I’ve witnessed it myself in America, where the draw of a game rivaled the attention given to the supper present on the table. This is why our Yiras Shomayim must be sufficiently robust to rise above such tayves – for to be ensnared thus is a profound shame, a busheh ve’cherpa.

Starting our work with something as potent as the tayveh for sports might set us up for failure due to its overwhelming and pervasive nature. Tayves A’chilleh is strong as well, but as we are a little bit cultured in this area, therefore we have a fighting chance to assert our control, even if just momentarily.

The objective is to internalize that we possess a strength beyond these urges. Indeed, we might wish to indulge, but we are more powerful than our fleeting desires. I chose to work on Tayves A’chilleh precisely because it is manageable; we know what to expect and how to confront it. Step by step, we resist the force that tempts us towards indulgence.

It is important to limit oneself to a single act of resistance per day; I believe that is sufficient for now. The point is to paint a fuller picture, showing us that merely aligning our consumption with the Divine Will in our food is not the whole story – the tayveh persists. We must actively confront and withstand it, armed with the awareness of our own greatness and elevation above such base desires.

This is just the first stage in truly working on what is classically defined as Yiras Shomayim – the state that reigns supreme over temptations. We shall delve deeper, fortifying our Yiras Shomayim to withstand even the strongest of tayves.