The Danger of a Promise
A Puzzling Teaching Our Sages teach in the Mishnah: “Say little and do much.” The plain meaning is simple. The way of the righteous is to speak little and to do much. But someone who thinks it over carefully will ask: why does the Sage need to warn us about this at all? Who sets out to talk a lot and do a little? When a person promises to change, he means a real change! There is a harder question. We see with our own eyes that the people who are most deeply stirred, the ones who make good resolutions with tears in their eyes, are often the very ones who do not change. Why? What is happening inside a person that causes this? Here the Sage touches a place in us that is sad, and true. The Root of the Problem Picture this, dear friend. A young married man hears his wife say to him: “When you’re home, you’re not here.” A moment of silence. Suddenly he feels empty. Something is missing. And right away, almost without thinking, he opens his mouth: “Tomorrow I’ll be different. I promise.” And what happens? Right away, right then, he feels better about himself. It is as if he has already changed, as if he has already become “the new man.” Yet he has not done a thing. And that is exactly the problem. What was the force that could have moved him to change? The feeling that something was missing. That empty feeling, that sense of lack, is the only fuel that can produce real movement. Then the words come along, the “promise,” and fill that empty space quickly, comfortably, and for nothing. In doing so, they cut off the drive to act. When there is no more emptiness, there is no engine. When there is no engine, there is no movement. And so the change never comes. The promise is not a bridge to the deed. It is a substitute for it. A Vessel and What Fills It Hasidic teaching explains that the flow of blessing from Hashem needs a “vessel” in order to last. Blessing does not settle on an empty place alone. A true and lasting filling comes only when the vessel is actually ready. What is a person’s vessel? His actions. As the Tanya, the classic book of Hasidic thought, explains, action is the main thing of all. The deeds themselves are the vessels. Through them the soul is bound to holiness with a bond that lasts. When a person makes a promise, he does create a “filling,” but only in the world of words. He fills his heart with a feeling. The vessel itself, the world of action, stays as empty as it was. And the good feeling that comes from the words keeps him from stepping down and filling the real vessel. The Painkiller The Tanya, in its section on returning to Hashem, explains that there is a difference between merely thinking about returning and a full return, one that includes actually leaving the wrong behind. The thought alone, and even a good resolution spoken out loud, does not reach the goal of truly coming back. Only coming down into the world of action does that. From this we can understand. A promise is not bad in itself. It can be a fine first step toward change. It becomes dangerous the moment it takes the place of the deed. It is like a painkiller. The pill does not heal you. It only removes the pain that was supposed to send you to the doctor. Once the pain is gone, you stay home. You are as sick as before, but you feel healthy. “Say little,” because a lot of talk is nothing less than the very thing that holds us back. This is how Rashi, the classic Bible and Talmud commentator, understood it, and this is the inner understanding of Hasidic teaching.
Putting It into Practice
Don’t promise. Do. Not a big promise about “tomorrow,” but a small act, now. Not “From today on I’ll be more present.” Instead: “I’m putting my phone down on the table and listening to her now, for one minute, with my whole heart.” The feeling that something is missing, the one you feel right now, hold on to it. Don’t rush to fill it with words. Let it burn until a deed puts it out. Only a deed, one small and real deed, creates the vessel. And from the vessel comes the true filling. “Say little and do much.”
Questions and answers
Q: Why do our Sages need to warn us to "say little and do much"?
Rabbi Landau answers: Our Sages teach in the Mishnah: “Say little and do much.” The plain meaning is simple. The way of the righteous is to speak little and to do much. But someone who thinks it over carefully will ask: why does the Sage need to warn us about this at all? Who sets out to talk a lot and do a little? When a person promises to change, he means a real change! There is a harder question. We see with our own eyes that the people who are most deeply stirred, the ones who make good resolutions with tears in their eyes, are often the very ones who do not change. Why? What is happening inside a person that causes this? Here the Sage touches a place in us that is sad, and true.
Q: Why does promising "tomorrow I'll be different" make a person feel better right away?
Rabbi Landau answers: Picture this, dear friend. A young married man hears his wife say to him: “When you’re home, you’re not here.” A moment of silence. Suddenly he feels empty. Something is missing. And right away, almost without thinking, he opens his mouth: “Tomorrow I’ll be different. I promise.” And what happens? Right away, right then, he feels better about himself. It is as if he has already changed, as if he has already become “the new man.” Yet he has not done a thing. And that is exactly the problem. What was the force that could have moved him to change? The feeling that something was missing. That empty feeling, that sense of lack, is the only fuel that can produce real movement.
Q: What does Hasidic teaching say about the vessel that blessing needs in order to last?
Rabbi Landau answers: Hasidic teaching explains that the flow of blessing from Hashem needs a “vessel” in order to last. Blessing does not settle on an empty place alone. A true and lasting filling comes only when the vessel is actually ready. What is a person’s vessel? His actions. As the Tanya, the classic book of Hasidic thought, explains, action is the main thing of all. The deeds themselves are the vessels. Through them the soul is bound to holiness with a bond that lasts. When a person makes a promise, he does create a “filling,” but only in the world of words. He fills his heart with a feeling. The vessel itself, the world of action, stays as empty as it was.
Q: Why does Rabbi Landau call a promise to change a kind of painkiller?
Rabbi Landau answers: The Tanya, in its section on returning to Hashem, explains that there is a difference between merely thinking about returning and a full return, one that includes actually leaving the wrong behind. The thought alone, and even a good resolution spoken out loud, does not reach the goal of truly coming back. Only coming down into the world of action does that. From this we can understand. A promise is not bad in itself. It can be a fine first step toward change. It becomes dangerous the moment it takes the place of the deed. It is like a painkiller. The pill does not heal you. It only removes the pain that was supposed to send you to the doctor.
Q: What should I do instead of promising my wife that I'll change?
Rabbi Landau answers: Don’t promise. Do. Not a big promise about “tomorrow,” but a small act, now. Not “From today on I’ll be more present.” Instead: “I’m putting my phone down on the table and listening to her now, for one minute, with my whole heart.” The feeling that something is missing, the one you feel right now, hold on to it. Don’t rush to fill it with words. Let it burn until a deed puts it out. Only a deed, one small and real deed, creates the vessel. And from the vessel comes the true filling. “Say little and do much.”
Concepts: comfort and action