A friend whose wife is in the ICU for cancer treatment. A divorced friend who just got engaged this week. A friend who made a fortune and then lost it. A friend who I haven’t spoken to in over two decades. A friend who just built a $20 million Chabad center. A friend who I still speak to every week.
These were the people I spent last Shabbos with. It was a special reunion of friends from my yeshiva days.
It was a soul experience. We shared hardships and suffering. We enjoyed each other’s successes and simchas.
But, most of all we connected because we put aside our exterior shells, and focused inward. No one was host, no one was guest. No one was teacher, no one was student. We were all just friends – there for each other.
If you leave the externalities at the doorstep, you don’t lose a part of yourself. Rather, your true inner being is able to emerge, leading to immeasurable growth that is simply impossible to achieve otherwise.
In Chassidus, we call this bittul. Bittul, often translated as self-nullification, requires tremendous introspection and years of working on one’s character. The book of Tanya devotes a robust amount of real estate to help us develop healthy bittul.
I feel like I was able to seamlessly slip into a mode of bittul for almost 48 hours. Some people speak of safe spaces where you can speak your heart. But, the notion of safe spaces presumes that – while you might be protected – there are dangers lurking. In this instance, bittul felt natural and comfortable. There was no worry; no looking over the shoulder.
Farbrengens are designed to help us achieve bittul. So, we might choose to characterize it as one long farbrengen.
Why are farbrengens useful tools to help us achieve bittul, leading to quantum leaps of progress?
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In this week’s parsha Emor we read about the three Pilgrimage Festivals of Pesach, Shavuot, and Sukkot.
These festivals are also set at specific seasons of the year. They are known by alternate names, reflecting the agricultural cycles. Pesach is at the beginning of the season, when the produce begins to ripen. Shavuot is at harvest time. Sukkot is the phase of gathering the produce from the fields.
Most of us are not farmers. Yet, the Torah’s message is just as relevant today as it was 3000 years ago.
According to Chassidic teachings, the holidays teach us a message of bittul. G-d compares the Jewish people to the produce of the field. Just as the seed must be planted into the earth and disintegrate in order for the produce to grow, so too our growth can only blossom after we undergo a process of bittul. Our own outer shell – our ego – must be negated in order for true spiritual development to occur.
As I pondered this teaching, I gained a deeper insight into the concept of bittul. Take the seed as an example. If the seed is sitting in storage, no growth occurs. But, when you place it in the earth, the soil helps it destroy its outer husk, in order for its true purpose to emerge and shine. In other words, on its own the seed will struggle to achieve real abnegation and subsequent growth. But, when it’s surrounded by the soil – which destroys its previous identity – its greatest objective rises to the surface.
Trying to instill bittul on my own is difficult. But, when I’m surrounded by friends who care deeply about each other, it becomes instinctive to shed the façade and allow my authentic purpose to shine.
We weren’t trying to integrate into each other’s lives. We were simply disintegrating.
And then, we were one.