Woe to Those Who Call Evil Good

The prophet Isaiah said: “Woe to those who call evil good and good evil…” Opening “Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who make darkness into light and light into darkness.” Stop for a moment. Isaiah did not say here that the world does evil. He said that the world calls evil “good” and calls good “evil.” That is a question all by itself. Moral confusion we can understand. But turning the labels completely upside down? A man with a backbone gets called “controlling.” A man who keeps a steady daily routine gets called “rigid.” A person who holds on to his boundaries gets called “arrogant.” How does it come to this? First Step: When Our Awareness Is in Exile Here is the basic explanation. This is not a mistake of the mind. It is an exile of awareness. The Tanya, the classic book of Hasidic thought, explains that awareness is the power of the soul that connects and tells things apart. It connects a person to what he knows. It tells truth from falsehood, and the inner from the outer. When awareness is in exile, judgment does not disappear completely. It simply starts to lean on outside impressions alone. And what is that outside impression? Excitement. Flow. Whoever looks “alive,” “relaxed,” “open” is the one people admire. And the person fighting an inner battle, the one with boundaries and safeguards, the one whose inner work you can see only if you look from the inside, is the one people suspect. The Talmud already described seven kinds of people who make a show of holiness, most of them hypocrites. It comes to teach us that our Sages knew very well how easy it is to confuse how things look with how things are. The pious person who does a great deed, but in public, will look “passionate.” The one whose effort is quiet and steady will look “cold.” Second Step: The One Who Serves and the One Who Does Not Here we touch the sharpest point of all. In chapter 15 of the Tanya, its author, Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, explains the difference between “one who serves Hashem and one who has not served Him.” It is the difference between a person who is always wrestling with the powers inside him and a person whose goodness comes to him naturally, without a fight. And what does a confused world see? It sees the one who serves: the man with the routine, with the boundaries, with the quiet daily commitment to accept Hashem’s will. And it reads his inner battle as “rigidity.” It reads his boundaries as “control.” It reads his standing on principle as “arrogance.” And whom does it crown? The one whose emotional “honesty” flows freely, even if it is shallow, even if there is no inner work behind it at all. He is “authentic.” He is “healthy.” He is “direct.” The fervor lasts a moment. The voice gets heard. The image wins. This is what an exile of awareness looks like in real life. A Word to Your Heart, Young Married Man You set times for Torah study at night, when the house is already asleep. You said “no” to something everyone else said “yes” to. You keep to your daily routine even when the people around you give a crooked smile and say, “Relax, it’s fine.” And you have probably already heard the criticism: “Rigid. Not flexible. Hard to live with.” Then, instead of the “really alive” one on the other side being asked questions, you find yourself explaining yourself. Know this: sometimes that very criticism is the sign that you have touched a point of truth. When truth challenges people, it threatens them. And when it threatens them, they call it names. Have you not seen what happened with Pinchas, grandson of Aaron the priest? What looked from the outside like a harsh act was, on the inside, the highest zeal for truth. The criticism from outside did not change what the act truly was. Closing: The Way Out The way out of this exile of awareness is not to argue with the world. It is to build an inner compass inside you, one that does not lean on applause. And the tool for building it is the inner dimension of the Torah. Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi writes in his letters that studying Hasidic teaching builds a sense of discernment: “to understand, and to show his own soul the way he should walk in.” And one more thing. Look at your friend, at the people in your home, at the one who seems so “flowing” and “alive.” Do not judge by the outside. Maybe he is struggling and you do not see it. Maybe he is working hard inside and you do not hear it. Hillel, the great sage, said: “Do not judge your fellow until you have reached his place.” And in the true redemption, everything that was always hidden inside will be revealed and made clear for all to see. The quiet inner work, the daily commitment to accept Hashem’s will, the boundaries no one ever saw: these were the true good, from beginning to end.