I believe that the assertion of any kind of false or true statements about
facts, or the harboring of correct or incorrect beliefs concerning how things
actually are, plays no substantial role in determining the humility of an individual. Instead, humility is a function of the attitude a person has toward
certain facts and of the significance he attaches to them. It has to do with
the focus of an individual's attention, the relative importance he attaches to
various merits, talents and achievements, and the kind of thoughts that occupy his mind.
As a first step toward the clarification of this idea let me formulate what may be suggested to be the first axiom in the study of humility:
A person exemplifies modesty when he does not regard any of his moral or
intellectual endowments or acts as more important-just because it is his than comparable ones of other people.
This axiom on its own provides some indication of the elusiveness of
our topic. Among other things, it implies that overt behavior has only a tenuous connection with humility, the core of which lies unexposed in the
recesses of the mind.
It is corollary of our axiom that if X and Y have to their credit identical
achievements, X will not ascribe greater value to his than to Y's. This corollary implies grave obstacles against detecting the vainglory that X may harbor in his heart. Different individuals have different backgrounds, aims and
ambitions. They are differently equipped physically, mentally and emotionally; their needs are different, and so on. All these tend to prevent an accurate comparison of their achievement. Of course, the more varied the circumstances under which we observe someone, the closer we may approximate to a correct evaluation.
What basic character trait would ensure the kind of attitude described
by our axiom? It may very well be exemplified by someone who is fully aware of all his accomplishments, but his attention does not constantly
focus on these. Consider an immensely talented individual who made unparalleled contributions to our understanding of nature, someone like Einstein, regarded as one of the three greatest physicists in history. When his
achievement is viewed in an overall perspective against a comprehensive
background of the sum total of the various scientific, as well as all literary,
musical and other artistic creations, the magnitude of his contribution to the
enrichment of our lives, appears differently. It, after all, constitutes only a
small percentage of the entire harvest of human genius. From an objective
standpoint, even an individual's most remarkable handiwork amounts only
to a small fraction of all the splendorous creations deserving to command
our interests. Modesty thus amounts to the tendency to adopt the objective
perspective. A truly humble person will come close to distributing his attention even-handedly, and consequently wil focus his thoughts only briefly
and infrequently on what is notable specifically about himself.
The 18th century Rabbi Akiva Eiger is often referred to as a paradigm of
humility. let me illustrate why, by relating what may possibly be the shortest of the many stories that are typically told about him. R. Akiva Eiger and
R. Yaakov Lorberbaum of Lissa spent a Shabbat in the same lodging-house
in Warsaw. In the afternoon when R. Akiva sat alone in the lounge, someone entered and announced "I have come to see Rabbenu (our Master)."
R. Akiva invited the visitor to have a seat, informing him "Rabbenu stepped
out for a moment; I expect him back soon:'3 Now, of course R. Yaakov was
a major luminary in the Torah world, yet it is generally agreed that R. Akiva
was one of his kind both in his unique powers of compressed analysis and
saintly conduct. He was too intellgent to be quite unaware of this.
Assuming the story's veracity, why the unhesitating belief that the visitor was
not referring to him?
I believe that an answer is possible without imputing to R. Akiva any
affectation, or polite but false expression of modesty. He knew the facts
about himself, but he did not attend to them most of the time. On this particular Shabbat what may have fully occupied his thoughts was the profound joy at having the chance to spend many hours in the company of his
admired friend R. Yaakov. Thus his immediate reaction to the visitor's
remark was prompted by what at that moment occupied his thoughts.
Rabbi I.Z. Meltzer was arguably the most prominent Torah scholar in
the middle of this century and was well known for his remarkable modesty.
Once a scholar published an article in the Torah journal Sinai, arguing that
R. Meltzer's widely known work Even Haazel contains many errors and fallacious reasoning. The incident caused a fairly strong uproar among the students of the yeshiva. After a while, a senior student of Rabbi Meltzer came
to see him and to tell him that after a certain amount of work he was able
to refute all the allegations of the scholar and show that R. Meltzer committed not a single error, and that he is about to send a copy of his findings to
the editor of that journal. To this, the rabbi's swift reaction was "You are to
do nothing of the sort! You probably are not aware that the author of the
polemical essay has regrettably undergone a series of misfortunes as a result of which he has become deeply depressed. Surely I cannot allow you
to deprive a man in such a deplorable state of mind whatever joy and satisfaction he may have derived from being able to refute some of my theses."
This incident reveals R. Meltzer as the exceptionally generous person
he was known to be. However, those familiar with him and with members
of the Yeshiva world were inclined to conjecture that many a person, no
less generous, would have acted differently. Surely, they would have readily
given of their money and time to help the unfortunate man overcome his
sorrow, but may have felt that it was imperative that the truth be made public and the false ideas people have gained from the critical article be corrected. From an objective standpoint the validity of any complex argument
can never be certain, while the desirabilty of comforting the afflicted is
beyond question. Yet, some learned men, even of considerable good will,
may have allowed their judgement to be influenced by the question of
whether the results of their own intellectual labor or that of someone else
needs to be sacrificed. We admire R. Meltzer for his ability to adopt the
objective view.
A detailed and most instructive description of our topic may be found in
Rabbi Moshe Hayyim Luzzato's Mesilat Yesharim: In the section on humility, he explains that the man of understanding will, upon reflection, realize that there is not justification for pride or vainglory, even if he was privileged to become very
learned.
"A man of understanding, who has acquired more knowledge than
the average person, has accomplished nothing more than what his nature
impelled him to do....
Whatever good a man possesses is due to the Divine grace accorded to
him...
He should be grateful to God who has thus been gracious to him, and for this
reason be humble."
On reflection it should become evident that the quoted passage is
very much in harmony with the axiom formulated earlier. Suppose that my neighbor and I each grow an orchard which, in the view of disinterested
observers, are almost indiscernible from one another in beauty and the
quality of the trees and fruit. It should nevertheless not seem unnatural if I,
having invested so much of my thoughts, skills, time and energy in caring
for my orchard, am unable to maintain an objective attitude and become
convinced that every tree of mine is superior to any of my neighbor's. Consider, on the other hand, a situation where my neighbor and I each have
just happened to be given as a free gift virtually identical orchards. In this
case it is far more likely that I shall judge the orchards objectively. The orchard which came into my possession gratuitously does not contain any
part of my "self'; there is no reason why my emotions should cloud my
judgement and prevent me to see things as they are.
If were to heed the counsel of Ramhal, then I would treat the mental
and physical resources which I invested in the orchard I grew as an unearned gift. My judgement would not become entangled with my ego and I
would reach an objective assessment in comparing the orchards to each
other.
The last Mishna in Sota contains a passage that has constituted a source of
puzzlement. The Mishna declares that since R. Yehudah the Prince has
passed away, true humility is no longer to be found. R. Yosef is recorded to
have protested-uttering a seemingly paradoxical sentence-"Do not say
that true humility is no longer to be found; after all I exist!" Can a genuinely
modest person speak like this? Is R. Yosef's protest not self-refuting?
Presumably, however, R. Yosef was a notably humble individual in the true
sense of the word. He was bound to be aware of it, assuming he was highly
intelligent and not prone to self-deception. Naturally, it was not his wont to
shout this from the rooftops, but we may also surmise that he did not spend
time on self-congratulations and that none of his achievements in general
was much at the center of his thoughts. Owing to his righteousness, his
thoughts were bound to focus away from himself, toward his friends, disciples, the needy, ideas, scholarship and good deeds. Several commentators,
though explain that on this occasion he felt impelled to draw attention to
his own humility for the moral welfare of others. People, should not draw
the wrong inference from the Mishna lamenting the loss of the kind of
humility exemplified by R. Yehudah and conclude that in contemporary,
spiritually impoverished society, it is no longer worth trying.
The well known Hebrew writer, I. Klatzkin, stated categorically, "One
who is well aware that he is humble is no longer humble."4 On the surface,
he seems right. On a closer inspection, however, we should reject the idea
that any genuine virtue, pursued by all rational souls, should demand ignorance or unawareness of that virtue. We should agree with Klatzkin that to
the degree an individual dwells how humble he is, to that degree he lacks
humility.
The major difficulty described in the first section was that humility is
held to be the supreme virtue, when the absence of it, unlike the absence
of other virtues, does not appear to constitute a serious threat to the welfare of others. By now we realize that the crucial importance for modesty
consists in its position as the solid basis for all other virtues.
An individual who tends to view objectively the relative merit of a
vast variety of aptitudes and achievements, as well as the order of importance among many wants and longings, is one whose thoughts are not constantly focusing on his ego. His attention is likely to be distributed over a
wide spectrum of needs, causes, and concerns. He will, therefore, appreciate the significance of the wants, hopes and strivings of others, and share
their joys and frustrations. Thus the virtue of other-directedness, the core of
humility, is the ultimate source for all other characteristics which involve an
impartial concern for worthy ideals and causes, and which require sympathy for the well-being of others. Righteous moral behavior is grounded in an
outlook that is close enough to the objective perspective, and, therefore,
ranks sentiments, accomplishments, needs and aspirations in accordance
with their actual, inherent order of importance.
NOTES
1. Cf. Abrahams, Israel, Ethical Wils, V.1., p.95.
2. Humility and modesty differ in magnitude only. I shall use the two terms interchangeably.
3. I.M. Lipson, Midor Dor (Tel Aviv, 1968), p.267.
4. In Praise of Wisdom (1943), p.303.
