In our previous article, we began exploring the Torah concept of order and unity. To briefly review, Rav Eliyahu Dessler, a prominent 20th century Jewish thinker and author of Michtav MeiEliyahu, writes about three different levels of order (Michtav MeiEliyahu, vol. 1, p. 92):
The first is order for the sake of order, which is a practical form of order, where pieces simply come together in an orderly, organized structure.
The second is where the pieces within a structure are organized in such a way that it provides practical use and accessibility.
The third is where the pieces within the structure come together in such a way that the ensuing result transcends the sum of the parts.
This third level of order – a unity that transcends the sum of its parts – is a deep and fundamental topic. Let us delve more deeply into this topic in order to build a paradigm through which we can explain a wondrously profound Torah topic.
Beauty and Music
When you look at a beautiful sunset on the beach, where exactly is the location of beauty? Is it the sunset? The reflection on the water? The contrast of the beach against the sunset? It’s none of them and all of them. Beauty is when separate, seemingly contradictory components somehow melt into a oneness, whereby they each bring out something transcendent from within all the other components. This is the deep truth behind physical and spiritual beauty.
The same principle applies to music. Anyone who plays an instrument knows that music is nothing other than a bunch of individual notes being played, one at a time. Each note by itself is not music; it’s just a sound. Music is when the notes are played in the correct sequence, at the perfect tempo, at the right pace – when the musician is able to string the notes together into a melodious oneness so that the listener no longer hears the notes, only the music. That is music.
The same is true of a symphony. When you watch a symphony, there are so many different musical instruments, so many different musicians, each one playing his or her own unique notes. The beauty of a symphony is when the hundreds of different musicians come together in such a way that all you hear is the symphony; not the violin, not the cello, but the symphony as a whole, as one.
Each Part Is Fundamental
An identifying characteristic of this third form of order is that when a single piece from the structure is missing, the entire structure is affected. This is because each piece is intrinsic and fundamental. If a single screw in the radio is missing, the entire radio won’t work; if a single note in the song is missing, the entire melody is affected. However, if any number of books are missing from the library, the rest of the library will be unaffected. This idea is most potently clear in its application to human genes and DNA. If a single chromosome is missing from an embryo, the child will unfortunately grow up with extremely severe defects – all of this from one missing chromosome.
This is the deep explanation behind a cryptic halachah regarding sifrei Torah and mezuzos. If a single letter is missing from either, the sefer Torah or the mezuzah is rendered pasul (invalid). Many are confused by this: How can a single letter ruin an entire sefer Torah or mezuzah? However, based on our discussion about the third level of order, the answer becomes clear. As the Ramban explains in the introduction to his commentary on B’reishis, the entire Torah is one interconnected sefer, one elongated sheim Hashem (Name of God). In other words, it’s a single organic entity. People understand that a single missing chromosome can affect an entire human being; the same is true for a sefer Torah or a mezuzah. These are organic entities, shaped by the third level of order, so even a single missing letter renders the entire text pasul. The Rambam echoes this same idea when explaining that if one rejects a single letter of the Torah, it is as if he rejected the entire Torah (Rambam, Mishneh Torah, T’shuvah 3:8).
Individuality and Community
This brings us back to our original question, wherein we find a conflict between our own individual sense of uniqueness, and the fact that we are part of something bigger than ourselves. On the one hand, we each have a deep desire to be unique, to stand out. What is sometimes referred to as the Lone Ranger Syndrome, we all have the desire to be the hero, the superstar, to have the spotlight shine solely on us as we unaidedly save the day. We have a sense of unique purpose, we know that we were created for a specific reason, and we know that we have talents and gifts that no one else in the world possesses. We want to be seen, heard, and understood. We wish to be important, accepted, and cared about.
On the other hand, we simultaneously understand that this world is not only about “me.” We are part of something infinitely greater than ourselves. Looking at the night sky, we can’t help but feel ourselves shrink into nothingness, realizing just how small we truly are. We are part of a plan, a grand cosmic story, which expands far beyond the borders of our own individual life. And strangely enough, we actually enjoy experiences where we melt into the background of something infinitely bigger than ourselves. If you’ve ever been to a stirring kumsitz (group singing), with the lights off and the music playing, you know how spectacular it feels to be nothing, to neither be heard or seen as an individual, nor to see or hear anyone else. All you hear is the collective echoing of hundreds of voices pouring out their souls; all you see is shadows and oneness.
Which one of these desires is truly important? Which one do we most strongly crave?
Do we prefer to be unique, to focus on our individuality and uniqueness, to stand out from the crowd? Or…
Do we prefer to be part of the crowd, to find ourselves sewn within the fabric of the klal, to hide within that which is infinitely greater than ourselves?
The Ideal: Synthesis
The ideal is to synthesize both. Klal Yisrael is a nation shaped by the third level of order. Each of us is completely unique and intrinsic, but only when we are connected to the rest of klal Yisrael, living with a higher purpose. The ideal is to find your uniqueness within the klal, within that which is infinitely greater than yourself. To find your talent, your passion, your gift, and then wholeheartedly devote that to klal Yisrael, to the world. We need to ask ourselves: How can my uniqueness contribute to the Jewish People and the world as a whole? Then, we must turn the focus of our life toward actualizing our unique potential, toward becoming the person we were meant to become.
The purpose of Yaakov Avinu’s Brachos
We can now understand the meaning behind Yaakov Avinu’s brachos. If we analyze them closely, we begin to realize that Yaakov wasn’t simply blessing his children; he was showing each of them his unique purpose, his unique mission. Each of the brothers had his own unique talents, and his unique roles reflected these unique talents. In the case of Shimon and Levi, Yaakov was helping them see their character traits, their strengths, and their weaknesses. Only by fully understanding who they were and their unique midos would they be able to fulfill their unique role within klal Yisrael.
When all the brothers come together as one, each filling his role, they melt together into a oneness, into klal Yisrael. As we previously discussed, this is what the brothers expressed when they declared “Sh’ma Yisrael” on Yaakov’s deathbed; they were declaring their oneness as a collective whole. Not only were they great as individuals, but they united into a cohesive and harmonious collective. Just as “Hashem echad” (Hashem is one), so, too, we, klal Yisrael, are one.
Our Unique Role
As descendants of Yaakov and the Sh’vatim, Yaakov’s brachos must echo resoundingly in our ears; he was speaking to each and every one of us, as well. We must determinedly search for our own uniqueness but then strive to fully devote that uniqueness to the klal, to that which transcends our limited selves. Our true greatness lies in finding our greatness within that which is greater than ourselves. We mustn’t think of ourselves as meaningless starfish hidden amongst the masses, an unimportant soul lost in the crowd. Each of us is unique, each of us is important; but our true importance lies within the deep understanding of how we can fit into that which is greater than ourselves.
The Mishnah (Sanhedrin 37a) says that we must each consider as if the world was created for us. The deep explanation behind this is as follows: Each of us plays a unique role in this cosmic symphony we call life. Just as every screw in the radio is fundamental, and a single missing screw renders the entire radio obsolete, so, too, each of us is fundamental, and without us, the story of our world would not be complete. Each of us is a letter in the ultimate sefer Torah, a word in the story of life. We must write our own story, with the recognition that our story is part of a bigger story, His-tory, our story.
Rabbi Shmuel Reichman is the author of the bestselling book, The Journey to Your Ultimate Self, which serves as an inspiring gateway into deeper Jewish thought. He is an international speaker, educator, and the CEO of Self-Mastery Academy. After obtaining his BA from Yeshiva University, he received s’micha from RIETS, a master’s degree in education, a master’s degree in Jewish Thought, and then spent a year studying at Harvard. He is currently pursuing a PhD at UChicago. To invite Rabbi Reichman to speak in your community or to enjoy more of his deep and inspiring content, visit his website: ShmuelReichman.com.
