[ 29 ]
Ahuv
Three things make a person beloved by others: an open hand, a set table and a happy frame of mind.
—AVOT D’RABBI NATAN 31
THE NEED to be loved is deeply embedded in the human psyche, and being loved is a fulfilling experience in itself. Not only that, when people love you, they want to help you. They’ll give you good advice and protect you from harm. A beloved person ranks high on invitation lists and has advantages in business. All areas of life benefit.
That fact leads to an important question: What makes a person lovable? More to the point, what makes you lovable? But before we can answer that question, we have to ask another: What is love?
There are so many definitions of love, from psychology to song, and none of them seems to satisfy because we can’t quite put our finger on what love is. The Mussar view is helpful because it takes a very different approach, not even trying to define love but rather focusing on awakening in us what generates the feelings, commitments, and bonds we call love.
The starting point for the Mussar teachers is the recognition that our primary inner nature is that of a soul. There are levels, or dimensions, to the soul, but only one concerns us in regard to love, and that is the nefesh-soul, which is the aspect of the inner life that is made up of all the emotions, character traits, and values that are specific to an individual. What we call love blossoms when two human beings draw so close to one another that their nefesh-souls merge.
This phenomenon is explained well in the sixteenth-century kabbalistic Mussar text called Reishit Chochmah, written by Rabbi Eliyahu de Vidas (1518–92). He writes that what we call “love” is in actuality the coming together of two separate souls to create a larger unit:
Even though your body’s material substance separates you from your friend, the nefesh-soul of both of you is a spiritual entity and the tendency of the spirit is to make you cleave to your friend with unbroken unity. When your nefesh-soul becomes aroused to love a friend, your friend’s nefesh-soul will be equally aroused to love you in return until both of your souls are bound to form one single entity.1
As proof, he points to the biblical verses that describe the love between David and Jonathan:
And it came to pass that the nefesh-soul of Jonathan was knit with the nefesh-soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own nefesh-soul. Then Jonathan made a covenant with David, because he loved him as his own nefesh-soul.2
It is not that these two friends loved each other because their souls knit together, nor did their souls cleave to one another because of their love; rather, love is a term we use to name the spiritual reality of two souls connecting and cleaving into one unit, knitting together. Love is the emotional experience of achdut ha’oheiv ve-ha’ahuv—the unity of the lover and the beloved. In over two hundred places in the Torah, the word ahavah appears to describe the unity of man and woman, of master and servant, of family, of the neighbor and the stranger, and, of course, of seeker and God.
The experience of “falling in love” in Jewish thought is rooted in destiny. When two souls that are meant for one another meet, the deep recognition is instantaneous and the bond immediate. Rav Yehuda is quoted in the Talmud as saying in the name of (a different) Rav: “Forty days before the creation of a child, a heavenly voice issues forth and proclaims, ‘The daughter of this one is for that one.’”3 The divinely ordained spouse is a true soul mate, called basherte (female) or basherter (male) in Yiddish.
Destined love can give rise to an instantaneous recognition, the proverbial eyes meeting across the room. Or it can emerge through long exposure and the hard work that can go into building a relationship. In cultures where marriages are arranged, there is an expectation that love will grow in time, nurtured by commitment and shared experience.
Now that we know that it is the merger of souls that generates love, what can we do to become beloved? King Solomon provides an answer by saying, “As water reflects a face, so does a person’s heart.”4 This means that whatever you project from your heart is what you can expect to receive in return. If you take no interest in others, they will take no interest in you. If, on the other hand, you are warm and caring, you can also expect to attract warmth to yourself.
I have seen this principle at work. I give students who are working to develop the quality of honor (kavod) the assignment of imitating the behavior of the Talmudic sage Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai. It is reported that Rav Yochanan was quick to greet every person he met before the other person could greet him.5 When students start doing this greeting practice, they find that their friendly greetings are almost always returned in kind, their smiles are repaid in smiles. Suddenly, the usually cold and unfriendly world melts into a place of warmth and friendliness. All because they projected something different from their hearts.
What we see here reflects Rabbi Eliyahu Dessler’s insightful teaching on love.6 He notices the connection between love and generosity, and he asks which comes first. Do we give to the person we love, or do we love the person we give to? He concludes that love follows giving. When you give to someone, be it a smile, a hand, some time, money, goods (according to their need), that sets the stage for love to grow. The key to being beloved is therefore to be generous, to have an open hand. The text quoted at the head of this chapter mentions “a set table,” which is also a form of generosity.
Too often, we seek love from a place of need and want. We may not have realized that we become beloved by giving to others and feeding them (literally and metaphorically).
But how does being beloved help us to work the transformation that is called acquiring Torah? The Maharal suggests an interesting answer to this question: Only one who makes himself or herself part of the community merits the Torah’s wisdom, because Torah was given and continues to be given to the whole community, not to an individual. In a very famous comment, Rashi notes that when the people encamped at Mount Sinai in order to receive the Torah, the community was so cohesive it was “like one person with one heart.”7 Only in the context of love like that—where hearts are united—can one acquire Torah, with all that means.
PRACTICE
The present focus tells us that everything flows out of being loved. We have learned that the best way to become beloved is to give your love to other people.
Your assignment is to identify one or two people to whom you can proactively seek to connect. Have a conversation or set up a visit and when you are with that other person, really be there for their sake, not your own gratification. Try to understand and appreciate them without harsh judgment, to give to them what they need and want, both physically and spiritually.
That’s how you give love. That’s how you become beloved. Rabbi Hanina ben Dosa (first century C.E.) used to say, “One who is pleasing to his fellow human, is pleasing to God. But one who is not pleasing to his fellow human, is not pleasing to God.”8
Pay close attention to the response your efforts bring and see what you learn.