With Heart in Mind

Rabbi Yochanan said: “One who studies the Torah but does not teach it is like a myrtle in the wilderness whose fragrance is wasted.”

STUDY HELPS us grow and transform, because there were wise people in previous generations from whom we can learn. But why shouldn’t we do our learning for its own sake (and our sake) rather than in order to teach others?

One answer is that there is a verse in the Torah that simply commands, “You shall teach [these words] to your children.”¹ In the same vein, Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzatto writes in Path of the Just, “One who possesses much wisdom is responsible to teach it to those who need it.”²

But being told that this is what we must do isn’t the whole of the story. There is a principle involved, as well. The Jewish approach to spiritual growth warns us not to fall prey to thinking that we could possibly pursue a spiritual life for ourselves without taking care of others along the way. By setting our intention to teach others, even as we pursue our own learning and growth, we are already thinking beyond ourselves and our own self-development. In the Jewish view, that’s essential. Taking care of yourself and your own needs exclusive of others actually stunts your spiritual growth.

An analogy that captures this situation is the contrast between the Sea of Galilee and the Dead Sea. Both bodies of water are fed by the Jordan River, but while the Sea of Galilee is home to twenty types of fish and is surrounded by lush vegetation, the Dead Sea is every bit as lifeless as its name suggests. What’s the difference? Water flows into the Sea of Galilee and then out again, whereas the Dead Sea has no outlet. Like that, one who learns but does not pass it on will be barren. In the words of the sages, who invoke a different metaphor, a scholar is compared to a flask of scented oil. When the container is covered, its scent does not spread. But uncovered, it lends its fragrant aroma all around. “This is the difference between a scholar who studies and one who also teaches,” they said.³

But isn’t teaching others a sacrifice that takes time and energy away from one’s own personal study and practice? Many sources tell us that there is no contradiction between pursuing your own spiritual growth and teaching others. In fact, they want us to understand that teaching others is directly in the interest of our own spiritual development, because when we do that, we learn and grow in the process. We read in Pirkei Avot 4:6, “Rabbi Yishmael the son of Rabbi Yossi would say: ‘One who learns Torah in order to teach is given the opportunity to learn and teach.’” This means that if you set yourself to teaching others, you will be granted all it takes to learn and also to teach. No sacrifice is required.

Midrash Shmuel goes even further on this topic, saying that one who learns in order to teach “will be taught from the heavens and the gates of Torah will open before him.” The Alter of Novarodok, the great Mussar teacher Rabbi Yosef Yozel Hurwitz (1847–1919), explains how this process works in practice.⁴ Not only is it not a sacrifice to spend time and effort teaching others, our efforts to teach others engage us in an unparalleled process of growth ourselves. He brings the example of Rav Preida, who had a student who ordinarily needed to be taught a lesson a daunting four hundred times before he grasped it.⁵ One day, the student was distracted and at the end of the four hundredth repetition still had not understood. Rav Preida then taught him the lesson an additional four hundred times. The Alter asks rhetorically, “How could Rav Preida have sacrificed so much time on such a pupil? How is it he gave no thought to his own progress?” The very opposite is the case, he says: “Only through his forbearance and complete commitment did he reach such a high level of Divine service and improvement of his soul-traits.” Were it not for his efforts to teach, which brought him face to face with challenges he had to struggle to overcome, Rav Preida would not have developed into the person who has been admired as the paragon of patience since his story was recorded in the Talmud almost two thousand years ago.

The lesson is that we grow through our efforts to teach others. Our own learning gains a profound new dimension and becomes more activated for ourselves. As well, anyone who has taught knows that when we teach others, we better retain our own learning. Preparing and then delivering a lesson forces us to clarify what we have learned, and the material also gets more firmly etched in memory. This may be the understanding that underlies the Talmudic saying “I learned much from my teachers, more from my colleagues, but most of all from my students.”⁶ Rabbi Chanina, who uttered these words, knew from experience that when we undertake to give to others, we receive a gift ourselves. This is certainly my own experience and the experience of many teachers.

When the first opportunity to teach Mussar came to me, I asked my Mussar teacher, Rabbi Perr, what he thought about me taking up that invitation. I wouldn’t have done it without his permission and validation that I was ready to offer something of what I had learned to others, if he thought I was. Without hesitation he answered, “Go ahead. You’ll learn so much.” When you teach what you have learned, you not only avoid the pitfall of selfish spiritual practice, you gain greater clarity and deeper understanding of everything that you have learned.

Not everyone is comfortable with the idea of teaching. Who am I to teach? I have so much still to learn myself. I’ve got so many issues to work out before I’ll be ready to teach others. There is likely to be some truth to every one of these (and other) doubts that are likely to arise when we confront the possibility of teaching others, but there is nothing new in these concerns. Rabbi Bahya ibn Paquda published Duties of the Heart in 1070, and in the introduction to that book he confesses to very much the same doubts. “As soon as I began acting on my decision to write the book, it occurred to me that someone like me was not equipped to write it. I believed I was too dull-witted and incapable of expressing myself well enough. I was afraid of burdening myself with something that would only demonstrate my limitations and that I was overstepping my bounds.”⁷

But he overcame those thoughts and feelings, saying, “I knew many good ideas were rejected because of fear, that dread causes a lot of damage, and I recalled the expression, ‘Be careful not to be too careful.’ I realized that if everyone who ever resolved to do something good or to instruct others in the path of righteousness kept still until he himself could accomplish everything he set out to, that nothing would have been said since the days of the prophets.”

This voice coming from almost a thousand years ago is a model for us. No matter what your level of learning or development, there is surely someone out there who needs to hear exactly what it is you have to teach. It does not display a lack of humility to share with others the gifts you have received yourself.

PRACTICE

Ask yourself, What have I learned recently? Who could benefit from me sharing this lesson with them? How can I teach it to them?

Then look for a way to teach something you’ve learned to someone else.

Afterward, observe what effect teaching the other person had on you? Were you forced to clarify a concept? Did you have to learn something additional? Did you get a stronger impression of the subject because of the experience of sharing it with another person?