Highlighting: “Guiding With Wisdom: A Road Map for Life Drawing Upon the Wisdom of the Steipler Gaon” by Rabbi Yaakov Mordechai Greenwald. Mesorah Publications Ltd. 2022. Hardcover. 250 pages. ISBN-13: 978-1422632659.

(Courtesy of Artscroll) Rabbi Yaakov Mordechai Greenwald was a widely respected therapist, with strong personal relationships with many gedolei Yisrael. He was particularly close to the Steipler Gaon, Maran HaRav Yaakov Yisrael Kanievsky, zt”l, whose guidance strongly influenced his therapeutic approach to healing.

A new book by Rabbi Greenwald, “Guiding With Wisdom,” includes many priceless letters from the Steipler, offering us a powerful Torah-based perspective on healing and emotional and mental health. In this book, we will learn—through authentic Torah sources—how to use our gifts to the fullest, build up our powers of concentration and focus, understand our challenges and respond to them effectively, and deal with anxiety, depression and other emotional disorders.

The following is an excerpt from this fascinating new volume.

A Sense of Growth

No matter what a person’s goal may be, it is very hard to keep striving if he feels that success is beyond him. This is as true in Torah and avodah as in any other area. The difference is that in spiritual matters, success is very difficult to measure. In fact, one may very well be using the wrong yardstick. Nevertheless, once he has come to the (mistaken) conclusion that he is a failure, his natural reaction is to lose all hope.

This may come about in a number of ways: A person may have enjoyed a long period of growth, which was then followed by what appeared to be a decline. Or he may have struggled with a sense of failure all along. He may believe he has abundant ability, which has simply never found proper expression. Or he may feel that he has no talent at all. Regardless of the exact scenario, the result is the same: Today he sits numbly, staring out the window wondering whether there is any point in going on.

What we need to examine, then, is how to evaluate our efforts and our progress correctly to ensure that unjustified despair does not steal from us our future.

The Challenge:

What should a yeshivah bachur or any other person do when he feels he has entered a period of stagnation? What if he feels he has never made any progress at all, but has remained on the same low level at which he began? What if he feels he is a total failure all around? How can he regain his enthusiasm when every day seems just as fruitless as the one before?

The Response:

The first thing this person must realize is that in all likelihood, the source of his problem does not lie in his learning, his davening or any other aspect of his avodah. Oftentimes, it is simply a matter of wounded pride. It may be, for example, that he feels that his classmates, rebbeim or fellow community members do not think highly enough of him. Or he may be jealous of the “stars” of the yeshivah or community.

It is this deeper issue that causes him to view his own achievements in a negative light.

Every Achievement Is a Success

The Steipler writes in Chayei Olam (Ch. 12) that all this is simply a stratagem of the Yetzer Hara to persuade him to give up learning and striving. The truth, he says, is that every achievement is a success, no matter how small. Every daf a talmid completes and every Tosafos he masters is a precious acquisition and a sign of growth and progress.

The mere fact that he is able to understand more today than yesterday is a cause for celebration.

What is more, says the Steipler, if he will just keep going, he will gradually acquire more and more Torah until at last he becomes a living illustration of the verse (Mishlei 13:11): Wealth through vanity diminishes, but he who gathers through toil increases.

There have been many talmidei chachamim, testifies the Steipler, who were not considered gifted in their youth, yet through toil and diligence became recognized scholars. Hence while standing out among one’s peers is not a valid measure of success, making small but steady acquisitions is.

This principle is just as applicable to other types of avodah as it is to Torah study. If a person gradually improves his mitzvah observance, perfects his character or increases his concentration in davening, that, too, is real success.

Do Not Compare!

Often, part of the trouble is that the talmid is in the habit of comparing his own progress with that of his companions. Let us suppose for the moment that his assessment of his relative standing is accurate. Even so, it is only a reflection of the present moment and tells us nothing about what tomorrow will bring. Thus the Steipler writes: The fact that he sometimes sees his fellow surpassing him in ability, comprehension and the like, is no proof regarding the future. I have

seen many talmidim who were considered unsuccessful in their youth, yet in the course of time grew to acquire solid knowledge in most of the Talmud….

There are two points to bear in mind here: The first is that through steady perseverance, he may indeed outshine his more gifted colleagues one day. But a more important point is that growth is not a competitive sport to begin with. We did not come into this world to be “better” than anyone else, but to make the most of the gifts we were granted. Hence there is no point in comparing oneself with anyone else at all.

The only benefit there can be in taking note of another person’s progress is to gain inspiration. But inspiration is not gained from the gifted individual. Rather, it is gained from the mevakesh (literally the “seeker”), that is, from the one who thirsts for growth. That is the one to watch and learn from!

Each in His Own Time

Sometimes the comparison is not with a person’s contemporaries, but with the great lights of the past. After reflecting upon their awesome stature and attainments, he wonders, “Of what value are my meager efforts?” But this is just another trick of the Yetzer Hara.

Sefer Chassidim writes that in Hashem’s eyes, the “dull wits” of later generations (meaning his own!) are just as precious as the quick wits of earlier ones.

In a similar vein, Rav Chaim Vital once lamented to the Arizal that the kedushah and deeds of Chazal and the Rishonim are completely beyond our reach. To this the Arizal responded that since the forces of impurity are so much stronger today, even lesser accomplishments are reckoned as valuable in Hashem’s eyes as theirs were for them.

The Meaning of Chiddush

Another factor that can dampen a talmid’s enthusiasm is the feeling that he is incapable of producing chiddushim, which in his mind means coming up with a completely novel kasha and then erecting an elaborate edifice of lamdus to resolve it. Hence if all he can do is work out the basic pshat he again sees himself as a failure.

The Steipler’s response to this is two-fold: First of all, producing novel insights is only a side facet of learning. The main road to becoming a talmid chacham is by understanding the flow of the sugya correctly—in other words, precisely by mastering the basic pshat.

But secondly, this understanding of chiddush is wrong in the first place. According to an oral tradition passed down from Rav Chaim Volozhiner, the term chiddushei Torah properly refers to nothing other than understanding the sugya better. The more one reviews it, the clearer it becomes and the more the underlying logic is revealed. That, says the Steipler, is the real meaning of chiddush!

The Steipler also quotes a passage from an essay by Rav Elchanan Wasserman, who relates that Rav Chaim Brisker did not believe that we are even qualified to produce the other sort of chiddushim today (i.e., completely novel interpretations). Only the Rishonim were capable of that. Our task is merely to try to understand their words.

False Impressions

Now let us discuss the feeling a person sometimes has that compared with the growth of his earlier years he is now in a period of stagnation. This claim is usually based entirely upon his own subjective impression. The trouble is that such impressions can be very misleading. It is entirely natural that a person’s awareness of his growth diminishes with time. But that does not mean the growth is really not there.

Consider the development of a young child: When he first begins learning the alef-beis, his progress can be seen from day to day. Initially, he does not even know the letter alef. Yet very soon he knows not only alef, but beis and gimmel as well. Then after a few months he is able to make out entire words and his capabilities expand exponentially.

The next few stages are also very impressive: first being able to decipher whole sentences, then to follow the prayers he knows by heart and finally, to read and understand new passages. But from that point on the stages become less and less dramatic, even though the child is obviously still growing.

Now contrast this with the situation of the older student or adult. In most cases, there is nothing special about him being able to read and understand a piece of Gemara of average difficulty. Moreover, even when he succeeds in mastering a more complex sugya with the major commentaries, it is still not obvious that he has changed in any way. In actuality, however, the volume and substance of the material he is absorbing every day is much greater than that of the young child. Hence, on the ladder of Torah knowledge he is actually ascending much faster.

The Steipler writes in one of his letters: Young talmidim err greatly when they imagine they are not succeeding and growing. For success in true growth is not recognizable to the talmid’s own eyes. Every page of Gemara he learns and understands is a success. Every Tosafos he understands is a success.

Slowly, slowly, “one who gathers through toil increases” (Mishlei 13:11). And in the course of time, he will become a great scholar among Klal Yisrael, without examining every day whether he is succeeding.

The point of all this is that when a person feels he is stagnating, in most cases it is nothing more than an illusion.

More False Impressions

One of the reasons we tend to denigrate our accomplishments is that just as we do not appreciate who we are as human beings, so do we not appreciate who we are as individuals. The truth is that we are really incapable of evaluating anyone’s spiritual stature. This is because we simply lack the tools. For example, a person who appears to us to be very simple may actually possess a very great soul. It is just that his greatness is imperceptible to our flesh-and-blood eyes.

This is well illustrated by a passage in Koheles Rabbah (1:1). The Midrash relates that R’ Chanina ben Dosa once sought workers to transport a large stone to the Beis HaMikdash in fulfillment of a vow. The trouble was that he was not a rich man and could not afford to pay very much. Nevertheless, he eventually found a team that agreed to help him for a modest sum, under the condition that he also lend a hand.

To R’ Chanina’s great surprise, no sooner had he placed a finger under the rock than he found himself standing in Yerushalayim, while his “workers” seemed to have vanished into thin air! Now the question was—what to do with their wages? R’ Chanina turned to the Sanhedrin for guidance. But the rabbis, upon hearing his story, realized that these were no ordinary workers and that he had in fact been the beneficiary of a miracle.

What appeared to R’ Chanina’s flesh-and-blood eyes as human porters were in actuality heavenly angels! So if the great R’ Chanina could mistake angels for men, might we not also be mistaken in our assessments of our colleagues and even ourselves?

Hidden Treasure

Rav Yechezkel Levenstein, Mashgiach of the Mir and Ponevezh yeshivos, explains that a human being’s spiritual development is a secret of creation that is intentionally concealed from us. Consequently, even after long hours of toiling over Torah and mitzvos, a person may feel he has accomplished nothing. But the truth is that the results of his efforts are merely hidden from him.

This idea is hinted at in a passage in Yoma (39a): If a person sanctifies himself… down here below, [Heaven] sanctifies him from above. This means that whenever a person strives to perfect himself here on earth, his holy neshamah is elevated and enabled to shine more brightly in the worlds above. This is the “secret of creation” alluded to by Rav Levenstein. The person himself is unaware of it because the greater part of his neshamah never enters his body.