Parshas Shoftim
Royal Humility
This week, the Torah teaches us about royalty and its symbiotic
relationship with humility. The concept of the Jewish king is
discussed in this week's portion, He is given a tremendous amount
of power, but there are caveats as well. He is told not to amass a
large cavalry, nor shall he have too many wives lest they sway his
heart. Third, he is warned against amassing an excess fortune of
gold and silver. But in an interesting addendum, Hashem puts a
roadblock to haughtiness in front of the king in a surprisingly
different manner. "It shall be that when he sits on the throne of
his kingdom, he shall write for himself two copies of this Torah in
a book, from before the Kohanim, the Levites. It shall be with him,
and he shall read from it all the days of his life, so that he will
learn to fear Hashem, his G-d, to observe all the words of this
Torah and these decrees, to perform them so that his heart does not
become haughty over his brethren and not turn from the commandment
right or left, so that he will prolong years over his kingdom, he
and his sons amid Israel." (Deuteronomy 15:15-17).
It seems that this Book of chastisement and its message of
restraint need be with the king everyday of his life.
Need that be the case? Why not have a court castigator, a prophet
or clergy who would sermonize monthly or even weekly. Does the King
truly need to constantly carry and read a Book of ethics to forever
keep him in check? Rav Yosef Poesner, was the son-in-law of the
Nodeh B'Yehuda, the esteemed Rav of Prague. He was a brilliant
scholar and an amazingly righteous individual.
During his entire life, he seemed to be plagued by a nagging wife
who would belittle him at every opportunity. After a brilliant
lecture, she would come into the room, and belittle him. During
meetings at which his opinion was prominently sought, she would
serve the company food, but at the same time she made sure to
deride him. During all these outbursts, he never said a word. He
never defended himself. In fact, he hung his head low, as if to
agree with her words of derision.
Then, suddenly, he passed away. Hundreds came to the funeral. All
of the gathered contrasted his greatness to the difficult life he
had led, by being married to a shrew of a wife who was about to
bury him.
After the eulogies, his wife suddenly appeared before the coffin,
crying uncontrollably.
She begged his permission to speak and then burst into tears.
"All these years," she cried, "I fulfilled the adage that a loyal
wife fulfills the wishes of her husband. And due to my loyalty and
respect to you and your greatness, I did whatever you had asked me
to. But now that you are in the world of the truth, I can finally
say the truth." She began to declare her respect for his greatness
and humility, his piety and patience, his kindness and
compassion.
The people near the coffin were shocked to see this woman
transformed into a loving, grieving widow. And then the true shock
came. She continued her soliloquy.
"Despite, how difficult it was for me, I kept the promise and
commitment you had asked me to make. Any time you were treated
honorably, or were asked to fulfill a prestigious role, you told me
to come in and belittle you as strongly as possible. You were
afraid that the honor they afforded you would make you haughty. I
only complied because that was your will!"
"But now I can finally say the truth!" But that was only in front
of people!
"You know how much I appreciated and cherished you!" She continued
to cry over the great tzadik and lifelong companion she lost. The
stunned grievers were shocked at the tremendous devotion of the
Rebbitzin, who deemed herself a harrying nag all for the sake of
her husband's wishes.
Humility is not easy to attain. And for a man thrust in the
limelight of power, flashbulbs popping, the media pressing, and
servants waiting, it is an even more arduous task. The only
antidote is constant mussar, day in day out. The Torah "shall be
with him, and he shall read from it all the days of his life."
Every day. All mussar all the time. No weekly speeches nor sporadic
sermons. If the Torah must be cherished like a wife, it also must
be asked to nag us into reality. And then, it will serve its men
not only delicious desserts, but also humble pie.
Good Shabbos!
Copyright © 2001 by Rabbi M. Kamenetzky and Project Genesis,
Inc.
