Seven Times He Falls, and Rises

“A righteous person falls seven times and rises, but the wicked stumble into evil.” Opening One person says, “I want to change.” Another person says, “I want to feel better about who I am.” From the outside, they sound the same. On the inside, they are worlds apart. If we are honest, most people want the improved version of themselves. But they want it without going through the pain that creates it. They want the scar without the wound. They want polish. Polish is comfortable. Polish feels like progress. But polish is not change. It only makes the same old thing shine. Young married man, this point hits close to home. How many times have we sat down to take an honest account of ourselves? We studied a chapter of Hasidic teaching about returning to Hashem. We felt inspired. And a week later we were in exactly the same place. We told ourselves, “I understand my problem.” But understanding the problem did not change anything. Why not? What Does “Falls” Mean? The Question Inside the Verse King Solomon says: “A righteous person falls seven times and rises.” This is how we usually read the verse: the righteous person falls, seven times, and gets back up. It is as if there is a “righteous person” who stands there before the fall and after the fall, and only in between, he fell. But look carefully. You can read the verse in a completely different way. The fall is not something that happens to the righteous person. The fall is what makes him righteous. This verse is not about a righteous person who falls. It is about a person who becomes righteous through falling and getting up again. Not before the fall. Out of it. This is the new idea. And if it is true, it turns the whole picture upside down. Polish Versus Real Change Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, author of the Tanya, the classic book of Hasidic thought, writes in chapter 27 about the “in-between” person. This is someone who is not perfectly righteous and must keep struggling with the evil inclination, the inner voice that pulls us toward wrong. He explains that this struggle is not a sign of failure. It is the very heart of this person’s work. We expect that after enough spiritual work, the struggle will stop. But Rabbi Schneur Zalman shows us that the struggle itself is the place. “For this is all of man.” Here is the paradox that is hard to hear. Suppose your growth only ever feels good. Suppose every honest account of yourself ends with a feeling of fulfillment and clarity. Then you are probably polishing. Polish is pleasant. Polish feels like work. But real change comes with confusion, with a feeling of going backward for a while, with not being sure. It is a descent for the sake of a higher ascent. This is what the Baal Shem Tov, founder of the Hasidic movement, taught. The descent itself feels like failure. But it is the very thing that lifts you to a level you could never have reached by a straight road. Awareness, Redefined One more thing, about “awareness.” People learn the right words to describe the place where they are stuck. Then they count that as doing the work. “I know I let my desires control me.” “I know I have a problem with arrogance.” There is some knowledge in this. But knowledge alone is not awareness. Awareness, in the true sense, is not the moment your situation becomes interesting to you. It is the moment your situation becomes unbearable. A person may learn to describe exactly where he is stuck and then add, “Interesting, isn’t it?” That person is still polishing. When a person says, “I cannot go on like this,” that is the beginning. The Fall as a Beginning So, and this is what this whole opening has been leading to, do not be afraid of that moment. There will be a moment when your inner work stops feeling “good” and starts to feel heavy and confusing. That is not a sign that you are going backward. It is a sign that you have truly started to walk. The fall is not a breakdown along the way. The fall is the way. People do not become righteous before they fall. They become righteous through falling. “A righteous person falls seven times and rises.” He does not rise in spite of falling. He rises because he fell. The fall opened up a place inside him that was not there before. That place is where the real rise grows from. Then comes this “brutal” moment. You feel you are going backward. The confusion grows stronger. The ground you stood on no longer holds you. This moment is the only true beginning. Everything else, all the comfortable “improvements,” was polish. And here is the promise. This descent is watched over by Hashem, who guides every detail. It is not an accident. It is the preparation for the rising that comes after it. And he rises.