Umberto Eco once wrote, “The real hero is always a hero by mistake; he dreams of being an honest coward like everybody else.”
We’ve all heard stories of people that accidentally saved the day. Whether it’s Curious George getting up to mischief or someone trying to steal a car and seeing a baby in the heat – they were just in the right place at the right time. They did not intend to be heroes. Yet Divine Providence brought them to such acclaim.
Are such people deserving of credit? What if they put forth no effort whatsoever? What if they were trying to do something else and inadvertently did something heroic? What if they intended harm, but instead the act was one of unexpected valor?
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This week’s parsha, Ki Tetzei, talks about many mitzvot. One of them is called Shikchah, meaning forgotten. The Torah states: When you reap your harvest in your field and forget a sheaf in the field, you shall not go back to take it; it shall be left for the stranger, the orphan, and the widow, so that the Lord, your God, will bless you in all that you do.
The Midrash Sifre applies this to other scenarios: If someone dropped a coin, and a poor man found it and was sustained by it, then he who lost the coin will be blessed on its account.
It seems quite clear that I am rewarded not only for the charity that I give happily, and not only for that which I donate begrudgingly, but even for that which I contribute unknowingly!
Why? What credit do I deserve for something that I did not want to do? How can I be rewarded for something I’m not even aware of?
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Let’s say someone is – G-d Forbid – on the verge of suicide. He is convinced that this is what he really wants. His mother is able to talk him out of it and saves his life.
Which is his truer desire – to live or to die?
While he is convinced that he wants to die, that wish really stems from an unhealthy place. It’s a distortion of his genuine desire. It may be due to various factors, but it’s not his essence.
The core of every human being – without exception – is to embrace life. The fact that we intrinsically love life is not by accident. It is by absolute design of our Creator. It is a most fundamental characteristic of the human condition. Any deviation is simply a cover-up of our true essence.
When this fellow reclaims his desire to live, he is not creating something new. He’s simply embracing that which he already possesses. In fact he’s coming home to his true self.
And that true self never disappeared. It was always there, buried beneath the surface.
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When we do a good deed we go through the same process. We connect with our essence.
If our conscious selves are engaged in the activity, it is all the more rewarding. But even if not – in fact even if we are driven by ulterior motives –our nehsama (soul) is deeply moved when we perform a mitzvah. We are speaking its language, acting in concert with the profoundest desire we possess.
Even when a Jew unknowingly drops a coin, it is possible that his body was driven to do so by his quintessential yearning to give charity, an aspiration which transcends even his conscious mind.
The Torah’s perspective includes not only my actions and objectives. It views my activities based upon a more innate reality – my neshama.
If my soul is on fire when performing good deeds that I don’t know about, how much more so when I am aware – and in sync – with its objectives!