Your Mission: Where Real Self-Worth Comes From
Opening There is a question a young married man asks at night. The house is quiet. The day’s routine is over. It is not a question of Jewish law. It is not a question about making a living. It is a different question, deeper and shyer: Why am I really here? He prays the morning, afternoon and evening prayers. He studies. He works. He does everything he is supposed to do. And still, there is an emptiness. There is a dim feeling that something is not touching him. Life moves like a machine, not like a soul. The world offers a ready-made answer: “Love yourself. You have worth simply because you exist.” It sounds nice and warm. But it is completely on the outside. Deep inside, you know it doesn’t work. You don’t feel worth because someone told you that you have it. You feel worth when you are doing what you came here to do. The Foundation: A Soul That Came Down to Do Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn of Lubavitch, a great Hasidic master, wrote in his book of daily teachings, Hayom Yom: Every Jew is an emissary. This is not a figure of speech. It is a definition. The Tanya, the classic book of Hasidic thought, opens by teaching that the soul is “truly a piece of Hashem above.” It is not a faraway spark. It is not a reflection. It is a piece, truly. A soul like that does not come down into the world for no reason. It comes down with a mission. This is a unique, personal task that no one else in the world can fill in its place. This idea is stated clearly in Likkutei Sichos, a collection of Hasidic talks. Every soul has a “personal task.” For that task it came down into this very body, this very generation, this very place. This is “a descent for the sake of a higher ascent.” The soul does not come down as a punishment. It comes down like an emissary sent out on the King’s mission. It came down in order to do. Once it has done its task, it will rise. This order is not an accident. Two Kinds of Worth There is a basic difference between two ways of feeling worth. The first way puts the focus on “me.” I exist, so I have worth. It sounds humble. But deep down, it holds a seed of arrogance that comes from the forces of darkness. It is a worth that comes from the “me” itself, and not from anything higher than it. The Tanya teaches that there is no empty “me” standing on its own. The soul is “a piece of Hashem.” So its worth lies in being connected to its Source, not cut off from it. The second way is worth that comes from being an emissary. A soldier does not feel great because he loves himself. He feels great when he carries out his commander’s orders. And not just any order. It is his own order, the post he was assigned to. That is where his worth is. That is where his identity is. The soul is the same. Its worth is not in some abstract “me.” Its worth is in the mission that the “me” carries. Mission as the Source of Vitality When a person is connected to his mission, he is connected to Hashem’s will above. And Hashem’s will is itself the source of life. That is why, exactly why, he feels alive. But sometimes he lives a life that is not his mission. He is “doing what everyone wants from him.” He is living a life that is not his own. Then he feels empty. He does not feel empty because something is missing for him. He feels empty because he is cut off from vitality. The Tanya speaks of “the death of the soul” as a state of being cut off from holiness, from the source of life. Emptiness is not a psychological accident. It is a sign that the soul is not doing its job.
Putting It into Practice
So the work is not to look inside and search for self-love. The work is to search for your own personal mission. And where do you find it? Not in meditation, and not in empty reflection. You find it right there: in deep Torah study, in keeping the commandments with intention, and in your daily serving Hashem. That is where Hashem’s personal will for you is revealed. That is where your mission comes to light. When you live your mission, the question of worth will fade away by itself. It will not be because someone convinces you that you are worth something. It will be because you will know it from your own deeds. You will know. Your mission is calling you now. Not tomorrow. Not after you feel better. Now.
Questions and answers
Q: Why might someone who prays, studies and works still feel empty and ask why he is really here?
Rabbi Landau answers: There is a question a young married man asks at night. The house is quiet. The day’s routine is over. It is not a question of Jewish law. It is not a question about making a living. It is a different question, deeper and shyer: Why am I really here? He prays the morning, afternoon and evening prayers. He studies. He works. He does everything he is supposed to do. And still, there is an emptiness. There is a dim feeling that something is not touching him. Life moves like a machine, not like a soul. The world offers a ready-made answer: “Love yourself. You have worth simply because you exist.” It sounds nice and warm. But it is completely on the outside.
Q: What does it mean that every Jew is an emissary whose soul came down to do something?
Rabbi Landau answers: Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn of Lubavitch, a great Hasidic master, wrote in his book of daily teachings, Hayom Yom: Every Jew is an emissary. This is not a figure of speech. It is a definition. The Tanya, the classic book of Hasidic thought, opens by teaching that the soul is “truly a piece of Hashem above.” It is not a faraway spark. It is not a reflection. It is a piece, truly. A soul like that does not come down into the world for no reason. It comes down with a mission. This is a unique, personal task that no one else in the world can fill in its place. This idea is stated clearly in Likkutei Sichos, a collection of Hasidic talks.
Q: What are the two kinds of self-worth, and which one comes from the ego?
Rabbi Landau answers: There is a basic difference between two ways of feeling worth. The first way puts the focus on “me.” I exist, so I have worth. It sounds humble. But deep down, it holds a seed of arrogance that comes from the forces of darkness. It is a worth that comes from the “me” itself, and not from anything higher than it. The Tanya teaches that there is no empty “me” standing on its own. The soul is “a piece of Hashem.” So its worth lies in being connected to its Source, not cut off from it. The second way is worth that comes from being an emissary. A soldier does not feel great because he loves himself. He feels great when he carries out his commander’s orders.
Q: Why does living one's mission bring vitality and living someone else's life bring emptiness?
Rabbi Landau answers: When a person is connected to his mission, he is connected to Hashem’s will above. And Hashem’s will is itself the source of life. That is why, exactly why, he feels alive. But sometimes he lives a life that is not his mission. He is “doing what everyone wants from him.” He is living a life that is not his own. Then he feels empty. He does not feel empty because something is missing for him. He feels empty because he is cut off from vitality. The Tanya speaks of “the death of the soul” as a state of being cut off from holiness, from the source of life. Emptiness is not a psychological accident. It is a sign that the soul is not doing its job.
Q: Where can I find my personal mission, and how does it answer the question of self-worth?
Rabbi Landau answers: So the work is not to look inside and search for self-love. The work is to search for your own personal mission. And where do you find it? Not in meditation, and not in empty reflection. You find it right there: in deep Torah study, in keeping the commandments with intention, and in your daily serving Hashem. That is where Hashem’s personal will for you is revealed. That is where your mission comes to light. When you live your mission, the question of worth will fade away by itself. It will not be because someone convinces you that you are worth something. It will be because you will know it from your own deeds. You will know. Your mission is calling you now.