The Wholeness in What Is Missing
“Let me cross over, please, and see the good land…” Alone with the Weight There are hours when a person sits alone and feels the weight. How many times have I fallen? How many times have I made a fresh start, only to end up back in the same place? Take the young married man who by now “was supposed to” be at peace with himself. Once again, he is not. And in the end a heavy thought rises up: maybe I just can’t do it. And the question burns. Hashem created me this way: with an evil inclination, the inner voice that pulls us toward wrong, with the ability to fall, and with limits. So what is my task? What does “serving Hashem” mean for a soul that fails again and again? Not Angels, but Human Beings The Tanya, the classic book of Hasidic thought, teaches a well-known idea. Hashem “desires to have a home in this lower world.” What does “lower” mean? It means a place of absence, a place where Hashem is hidden, a place where something is missing. It is not a place of artificial perfection. It is exactly a place of limits and hard work. Hashem did not send angels into this world. He sent souls inside bodies. There is a deep explanation for this. An angel does not fight. It stays in the perfection of its nature, and it cannot step down from it. But a human being is different. With the “animal” inside him, with his falls and his risings, he is exactly the vessel Hashem wants. The struggle itself is Hashem’s highest will. Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, author of the Tanya, writes about the “in-between person.” This is someone who is neither completely righteous nor wicked. His work is not to reach the calm of an angel. His work is to be a fighter, always. As the Tanya puts it, even if he must spend all his days in this battle, perhaps this is what he was created for, and this is his work: to push back the forces of darkness, always. The goal is not total victory. The goal is the battle itself. It is not a stage on the way to the purpose. It is the purpose. Moses and the Wholeness of What Is Missing There is a wonderful proof of this from the greatest of all created beings. Moses was the most complete person of all the generations. He asked to enter the Land of Israel: “Let me cross over, please, and see the good land.” His prayer was not answered. So we must ask: was something wrong with Moses? Did he lack merit? Was some greatness missing in him? The answer is that Hashem did not tell him, “You are not worthy.” It was the opposite. Hashem was telling him: your task is complete. Your mission ended there, in the desert, without entering the land. The “no” that Moses received was itself part of the shape of his wholeness. The same is true of every single soul. What is missing in you is not proof that you failed. It is an exact description of the shape in which you were sent. What Is Missing Is the Altar So far we have seen that what is missing is not an obstacle. Now we can go deeper. What is missing is the vessel itself. King David wrote: “The offerings Hashem wants are a broken spirit. A broken and crushed heart, Hashem, You will not reject.” A broken heart is not something you have to get rid of before you start serving Hashem. It is the offering itself. It is the altar itself. A person may feel that he is not succeeding, that his hands are too short, that he is not “living up to expectations.” That is exactly when he truly turns to Hashem. That is exactly when he leans on the One who never breaks. And in this way he fulfills the deepest purpose of creation: the “lower” world reveals the light of the One above precisely through what it lacks. This is the meaning of “a descent for the sake of a higher ascent.” The descent is not just a passing stage. The descent itself is a vital part of the ascent, when you recognize it and keep striving inside it.
Putting It into Practice
The next time you sit alone and feel the weight, stop for a moment. Do it before you rush to fix things, and before you make yet another resolution that this time will be the last time. Ask yourself: Maybe this is the exact place I was sent to? Maybe this missing piece that hurts so much is the shape in which my vessel was created? This is not giving up. Just the opposite. Recognize what is missing, accept it, and from inside it, turn to Hashem. Because this is exactly what He asked of you. He did not ask for an angel. He asked for you.
Questions and answers
Q: What should a person think when he sits alone and feels he has fallen again and again?
Rabbi Landau answers: There are hours when a person sits alone and feels the weight. How many times have I fallen? How many times have I made a fresh start, only to end up back in the same place? Take the young married man who by now “was supposed to” be at peace with himself. Once again, he is not. And in the end a heavy thought rises up: maybe I just can’t do it. And the question burns. Hashem created me this way: with an evil inclination, the inner voice that pulls us toward wrong, with the ability to fall, and with limits. So what is my task? What does “serving Hashem” mean for a soul that fails again and again?
Q: Why does Hashem want a home in the lower world among human beings rather than angels?
Rabbi Landau answers: The Tanya, the classic book of Hasidic thought, teaches a well-known idea. Hashem “desires to have a home in this lower world.” What does “lower” mean? It means a place of absence, a place where Hashem is hidden, a place where something is missing. It is not a place of artificial perfection. It is exactly a place of limits and hard work. Hashem did not send angels into this world. He sent souls inside bodies. There is a deep explanation for this. An angel does not fight. It stays in the perfection of its nature, and it cannot step down from it. But a human being is different.
Q: Why was Moses' prayer to enter the Land of Israel not answered, and what does it teach about what is missing?
Rabbi Landau answers: There is a wonderful proof of this from the greatest of all created beings. Moses was the most complete person of all the generations. He asked to enter the Land of Israel: “Let me cross over, please, and see the good land.” His prayer was not answered. So we must ask: was something wrong with Moses? Did he lack merit? Was some greatness missing in him? The answer is that Hashem did not tell him, “You are not worthy.” It was the opposite. Hashem was telling him: your task is complete. Your mission ended there, in the desert, without entering the land. The “no” that Moses received was itself part of the shape of his wholeness. The same is true of every single soul.
Q: What does "A broken and crushed heart, Hashem, You will not reject" teach about what is missing in us?
Rabbi Landau answers: So far we have seen that what is missing is not an obstacle. Now we can go deeper. What is missing is the vessel itself. King David wrote: “The offerings Hashem wants are a broken spirit. A broken and crushed heart, Hashem, You will not reject.” A broken heart is not something you have to get rid of before you start serving Hashem. It is the offering itself. It is the altar itself. A person may feel that he is not succeeding, that his hands are too short, that he is not “living up to expectations.” That is exactly when he truly turns to Hashem. That is exactly when he leans on the One who never breaks.
Q: What should I ask myself when I feel the weight of my failures?
Rabbi Landau answers: The next time you sit alone and feel the weight, stop for a moment. Do it before you rush to fix things, and before you make yet another resolution that this time will be the last time. Ask yourself: Maybe this is the exact place I was sent to? Maybe this missing piece that hurts so much is the shape in which my vessel was created? This is not giving up. Just the opposite. Recognize what is missing, accept it, and from inside it, turn to Hashem. Because this is exactly what He asked of you. He did not ask for an angel. He asked for you.