Letting Go - Loving Torah

N.B. I am currently studying at Pathways Plus (program on Judaism) in Jerusalem, Israel. I arrived here on May 26 and will be here until June 16.

Although I never ended up writing about Passover back in April, a lot of what I’ve been learning in Israel—at least the first week I’ve been here—relates directly to the theme of ‘letting go’—a concept that the holiday of Passover specifically emphasizes. I was also informed that if you’re intent on ‘starting afresh’ in your life—be it getting over an addiction, or wanting to make a significant change—Passover is the time to do it. 

Although Passover ended in April, I am currently still in the process of applying its central lesson.

Moreover, since tomorrow is Shavu’ot—the celebration of when the Jewish people were given the Torah—I feel as though now, more than ever, I should be taking the ‘letting go’ lesson more seriously.

The first class I attended when I arrived here last week was a class on anger and how to deal with it.

I’ve been dealing with a lot of anger issues over the last few years. I’m angry at those who let me down,  angry at the world for being the way it is, angry at society for letting it get this way, but also extremely angry at myself. This is something I’ve been trying to work on for a long time. People have always told me to “let it go”, but I just couldn’t bring myself to actually do it.

There are five different types of people who deal with their anger. There are those who become angry when something doesn’t go their way. There are those who are difficult to anger, but are dangerous when angry. 

There are those who are also difficult to anger, but only slightly affected by it. There are also those who are difficult to anger, but also easily appeased once angered. Finally, at the highest level, there are those persons who are so devoid of ego that they never experience anger.

One of the central sources of anger is pride.

During the class, I experienced a sudden moment of clarity into the last few years of my life. I always used to judge and weigh everything by how much another person hurt me, how someone’s actions offended me, or how someone embarrassed me. I was continuously focused on my own pride and certainly my own ego.

According to Rabbi Shlomo Wolbe, the antidote to anger is patience, or more specifically, tolerance. In fact, the word “porter” comes from the root of the Hebrew word. As we all know, porters are required to carry heavy loads. Moreover, the word “carry” can also be found in the Hebrew word for marriage.

In all relationships, we must be patient and tolerant. Like the song “Lean on Me”, we must help our loved ones carry the load or burden they bear, and in turn, they too will help us with ours. Although our friends or significant others may cause us pain, we—like God, with his infinite patience and tolerance for the sinner until he/she repents—must tolerate the person who hurts us until the person mends their ways.

That being said, Judaism stresses that once you have done all that you can for those that you love, and they continue to exhaust every last ounce of your resources, you must do what’s best for you and let them go. 

Although Judaism encourages us to emulate God, we must always remember that we are not God. Our patience and tolerance is certainly not infinite. But we certainly possess the tools to love with all our hearts.

My struggle with strengthening my tolerance and lessoning my pride began at the beginning of this school year. I have had a number of ups and downs, particularly with friends, and I’ve struggled to the point of physical pain in my attempt to ‘let things go’.

Judaism teaches us that we are meant to feel pain and suffering in order to be spiritually productive.

Only in the last few months have I been able to channel my anger, and my suffering, into something far more productive—the fairly continuous and growing study of Torah.

The holiday of Shavu’ot is a time to celebrate when the Jewish people received the Torah. We celebrate this holiday by staying up the entire night reading and studying Torah. During this holiday, it is custom to read the Book of Ruth which tells the story of a Moabite princess who abandoned a life of wealth and privilege in order to join the Jewish people as a penniless convert. Ruth’s decision to return to the land of her people led to her eventual marriage to Boaz. Their union, roughly four generations later, produced King David—the founder of the Jewish dynasty.

Ruth left a world of luxury and comfort behind her. She turned her back on everything she knew, converted to Judaism, because she felt it was the right thing to do.

Before they were married, Boaz spoke with Ruth regarding his perception of her character. He informed her that her conversion, in many ways, made her more remarkable than Avraham—the patriarch of the Jewish people—since he only abandoned his ancestral home after Hashem spoke to him, while Ruth chose to do so of her own violation.

During one of our ‘reflective’ classes, the head of our Pathways Plus program quoted Hillel the Elder (110BCE). He once asked: “If I am not for myself, who is for me? And when I am for myself, what am ‘I’? And if not now, then when?”

Having just finished reading the Book of Ruth—never having read it before—I find it particularly fitting, given what I was taught when I first arrived here in Israel. Ruth let go of everything she had and gained everything because of it in return. It took great courage, but she remained humble and grateful for the opportunity to be part of the Jewish nation.

I too am grateful for the opportunity to study here in Israel, the land of not only the Jewish people, but also of my ancestors. Having visited and left a note at the kotel, I can now appreciate who I am and where I come from. Most importantly, I can now better understand my purpose here on earth.

Be deliberate in judgment; educate many disciples; and set protective bounds for the Torah.
(Ethics of the Fathers, 1:1)