To Fear or Not To Fear: That is The Answer
Fear is what holds us together and, at the same time, pulls us apart. While fear is intrinsically adaptive in terms of staying away from dangers in our environment, fear is generally not protective or productive. Instead, it can be quite crippling, and freeing ourselves from it can be the most wonderful experience.
Take a woman, for instance, who is surrounded by unbound lions and crane-like giraffes and chooses to embrace her experience. In overcoming this fear, she can now enjoy her open Safari adventure. Now, compare her to a woman who chooses not to go to the zoo, since she is afraid of tigers in cages and consequently loses out on a fun Sunday outing with her kids.
These two examples, incongruous in their intensity of perceived danger, explain how fear is oftentimes a mindset and is not a reflection of one’s circumstances. The first woman had a mentality of I can and the second of I can’t and they both stuck with that, in how they approached their day’s potential fun.
To hit this point home: Flyers have a much lower mortality rate statistically than drivers or passengers. Yet the fear of flying is generally much stronger than the fear of getting into a car and turning on the ignition. In an ironic way, car accidents are much more common than plane hijackings or mechanical failures. So here, the fear does not correlate directly to the facts; it’s actually just the opposite. This shows how many of our fears are products of our mind and psyche rather than products of heavy research, experience and statistics.
Therefore, in overcoming fear, a person must have the strength of mind, spirit and sheer willpower. Fear is not merely an emotion we can label; it’s a mentality we can dissociate from. It’s saying I can’t, I won’t, I shouldn’t; when instead, we should be jumping off that ten-foot diving board, having a blast and saying, “I can.” Otherwise, fear is cyclical, in that we are afraid to do things because we are afraid of other things…and before we know it, we may as well have jumped off the Fun Ferry a long time ago.
The great healer of all healers (in lowercase h), the Sarno Method, is centered on the mind’s approach to physical pain and how to combat it by allowing our mind to take control. Similarly, we need to fight our innate fears and conquer them, like survivor Pearl Benisch in her poignant memoir To Vanquish The Dragon, whether our fear is directed at things or at people.
In our discussion of conquering fear: Much of Novardok thinking is all about the greatness of man and how much we can achieve. I believe that the students of this school of Mussar are more likely to actualize their potential because although they attribute great importance to people, they don’t give a hoot to what others think—one idea that seems to contradict the other. That is, one would naturally think that if Novardokers minimize their neighbors and friends in their mindset, how can they, at the same time, believe in their greatness?
Indeed, students of Novardok become great leaders of their generation specifically because of their unique attitude towards fear. Yes, fear is intrinsic to the human experience, but like anything in our religion, we need to overcome the temptation (so to speak) to fear, to avoid, and to reject. After all, although very painful, it is much easier to fear than not to fear.
With this, we can now blow away the mystique from this seeming contradiction: Having a high regard for man—while having fear of Gd, not man—is not a contradiction. Instead, Novardok’s philosophy is actually a synthesized whole, for we can only become great, as we cherish the idea of greatness, if we eliminate our fears of things, people, their impressions of us, and social consequence. We can only become great if we are not scared of trying, of doing, and of succeeding–to not be afraid of what people will think or do.
Indeed, fear is paralyzing. It inhibits us from choosing Chaim, life, over Maves. Maves, or death, is epitomized by insufficiencies and a lack of life, as the Gemara compares a metzorah, an ani, an iver, and an akarah to someone who is dead. To elaborate, a person without children (akarah) has no legacy to leave and feels left out of community life which is so family-oriented. A blind man (iver) is lacking one of the most vital sensations one needs to navigate life and interact with mankind and other forms of existence. A beggar (ani) has little money for food, health, and shelter, all of the things that contribute to a person’s vibrancy and help him integrate into this world. And lastly (or actually firstly): the metzorah, a leper. A leper is probably the most symbolic of one without life, because he or she is ousted from society and everybody knows why.
There is no question that shame or shaming is one of the biggest punishments a person can go through in this world. Embarrassing someone in front of others is literally snuffing the life out of him. Whether or not this leper deserves it for his lashon hora—I think Gd believes he does—he goes through hell, wearing a sign throughout the town that reads “חטאתי” in stark letters, as he heads out to the wilderness, which serves as his new habitat of isolation.
These four prototypes of ‘deadened man’ prove how community plays such a major role in our lives and without it, we are נחשב כמת. The topic of metzorah teaches us that while society can be a positive motivation in terms of conformity and growth, society can also be a negative motivation, in terms of pressure and punishment. Whether we like it or not, our communities have a lot of power, for better or for worse.
Out of all four נחשב כמת profiles, the metzorah also symbolizes the power of community in the most emphatic way. The whole Biblical discussion of tzaraas underscores how one person or community can have the ability to spread a message—hopefully a message for good cause—and how that entity can use the same power to punish. Having leprosy all over his house and clothing, a metzorah is the most shame-filled sight to see! (“Hey Reuven, is that Shimon’s Honda Odyssey all covered in tzaraas?”) What sheer mortification!
As a side note, and an important one: Our community offenders, hopefully far and few in between, are metzoraim too. Just like they spread a destructive message without recourse, so too, we, like our Biblical fathers—if someone were to transgress—need to admonish their behavior and oust them from our communities.
A handful of peculiar (and seemingly intelligent!) individuals posit that shaming a victim is the correct course of action. (Who knows? Maybe they are of the same breed. That’s my only plausible explanation for such absurdity.) Admonishing a victim is not just an awful thing, it’s absurd! That is, accusing a victim of tarnishing the reputation of or even killing a public offender is so backwards; it’s hard for anyone with even a quarter of brain capacity to agree!
It’s like blaming the chickens for not being fat enough if KFC were to have gone bankrupt! Hypothetically speaking, it wouldn’t be the chickens’ fault for the upending of this company; it’d be the fault of the CEO, who conducted his business affairs inappropriately or that of his chefs, who overcooked the food or didn’t season it properly.
In this interrogative light, why do ANY OF US still legitimize an offender’s complaints over his or her victim? Or think it’s alright to move him to a different community, far enough so he’s out of sight but close enough so that he doesn’t need to learn a new language or set of minhagim? We can be so caring in such a wrong way for the wrong people.
We live in the twenty-first century (for those who think we are currently hanging out in the year 1824, a time when we didn’t even have the luxury of zippers)! Our communities are mostly with the times! Our positive use of technology is just the same as our blame-free openness: They are both prevalent and essential in modern-day living. Whether one feels more comfortable using printed MapQuest directions or a navigation app, we are all embracing elements of today to succeed.
We all need to hearken to the message of the leper and use our social capabilities for the good. Keep up with the times and support each other in the most positive ways, and not chalilah, the opposite! The word chalilah actually comes from the lashon of chalal (or “empty space”), the opposite or absence of kedushah! Don’t join forces with those who admonish for the bad. Chalilah!
With this understanding under our belts: Community can be used so positively and so negatively within the same breath. Understanding this dichotomy, Novardok harnesses societal power, submitting to its potential for greatness yet not succumbing to its pressures. Interestingly, a practice of the Yeshiva students back in the landscape of nineteenth-century European shtetlach involved a bachur or yungerman, who would purposely walk into the hardware store and ask for oranges. He did this peculiar act in order to expose himself to the fear and shame of someone else’s opinion. A precursor to CBT and ERP, the Mussar movement used an experiential tool to break certain traits and inclinations. Mustering up his confidence, the young man would then exit the store, brush his shoulders off from the dust of embarrassment, and then continue onto the grocer next door to ask for screws.
Now circling back to our main discussion: Fear is largely associated with social factors. I’ve been to one, but I’m no psychologist. Yet my understanding is that much of mental illness and its surrounding emotions are related to others (“What will she think of me?” or “If I actually do this, I’ll look like such an idiot!”). Fear drives the unhealthy parts of the human condition, whether it’s depression and not having enough drive or self esteem to “get up and go” or different kinds of anxieties, and even paranoia. (I don’t think the healthy, instinctive fears of predators, fire or the like need any mention here.)
Fear is what makes us human and fear is also what makes us great humans if we don’t give into it. Someone who has good middos, who is in the most trying of circumstances, being pitted against the worst social pressures in town but stands up for what’s right, is a hero–even more than an Admor (אדמ״ור), “Adoneinu Moreinu v’Rabbeinu,” an abbreviation for a leader who is “our master, our teacher, and our rebbe.” Sometimes, the bearer of this title gets competitive with Avinu Malkeinu!
Besides for being called a tzaddik and a gaon and a talmid chacham, we each need to be called—and strive towards becoming—a Baal Middos. Shouldn’t we stress this more in our communities, in our classrooms, and at our shuls and Shabbos tables? Doesn’t it make sense to emphasize the value of overcoming fear in doing the right thing the same way and with the same fire and brimstone that we emphasize our teachings of running away from the desire of sin?
Most of what we don’t do in life—whether it’s embarking on a bigger project or parasailing (which is so much fun if you can actually get over the heights)—is due to fear. In understanding this one sentence out of all my fancy words, and in embracing its truth, we are on our way to becoming not only Novardokers, if you wish, but truly great people. You got to grow some long legs, or something along those lines, and run for it! (Parenthetically, I used to think I’d be a professor with my love for thoughts and fancy ideas. I still am now, to some degree. My second-grade boys are like college-aged kids: smart, loud-mouthed in a fantastically bold way, and aspiring to something big but still wanting to have fun at the same time. I guess I’m still living out my dream in a way I could never have foreseen.)
Quite amazingly, I’ve gotten a lot of advice from a tremendous person here in Lakewood, HaBaal HaMiddos, HaChacham, HaTzaddik Rabbi Yehudah Mandel, who revolutionized the way we understand the concept of Bitachon, our trust in HaShem, in our struggles and day-to-day living. Rabbi Mandel stresses the importance of caring only for what Gd thinks when we do what He wants and stopping to care for what others think, in order to be free and finally enjoy the good world He has to offer. A gaon and Baal Bitachon in his own right, this holy man discusses how to stop worrying about what people think of us and other stupidities, or how my husband puts it in his beautifully dismissive and fearless Israeli tone: שטויות!
A major theme of Novardok thought, vanquishing fear and trusting only in Him is an acquired middah and takes a while to build up in your system, just like if you were deficient in iron and started taking ferrous sulfate supplements to revamp your hemoglobin supply. (I never actually took an interest in science.) A Novardoker himself, Rabbi Mandel disseminates the traditions and ideas of his Mussar style, the other major style being Slabodka. He has big shoulders to stand on, having more wisdom and experience than most people I’ve come across, and that is why he is my number one rabbinic consultant.
And now to wrap things up: At the end of the day, the question of what to do with our struggles simply boils down to the realization of what life can be like living with the fear (just look at ourselves) or what life can be like without it. If we want to get anywhere in life, it’s upon us to examine our options, almost like seeing two simultaneous universes, lined up side by side, and getting to choose which one we truly want. In this way, to fear or not to fear is not really a question. It’s actually the answer.