September 24, 2023|ט' תשרי ה' אלפים תשפ"ד Beyond Self-Actualization: Self-Transcendence for the Ultimate Teshuva
Print ArticleAbraham Maslow was born on April 1, 1908 and he died on June 8, 1970. He was an American psychologist and philosopher. He joined the faculty of Brooklyn College in 1937 and in 1951 he became head of the psychology department at Brandeis, where he remained until 1969. Maslow is most famous for his philosophy of a hierarchy of needs. In his major works, Motivation and Personality (1954) and Toward a Psychology of Being (1962), he argued that each person has a hierarchy of needs that must be satisfied, ranging from basic physiological requirements to love, esteem, and, finally self-actualization. What is self-actualization? He writes, “What a man can be, he must be.” Once we have self-esteem, feelings of self-worth, self-regard and self-integrity and once we think highly of ourselves, then we try to live to our highest potential. This seems to be a great model for teshuva. How do we achieve our highest potential? We first must truly believe that we are great, that we have abilities and have tremendous potential and therefore we want to strive to achieve that potential.
And there are many statements in the Torah that highlight the value of self-esteem. We believe that there is a “piece” of God, as it were, inside every human being, as man was created b’tzelem Elokim. The gemara in Sanhedrin states that every individual has the value of an entire world. The Mishna in Pirkei Avot states that an even greater feeling of well-being is achieved in that man can be aware of how special he or she really is. It is one thing to be special, but it is quite another to realize and be conscious of that unique situation and use that specialness to maximize one’s potential. We should view ourselves at the center of the world such that we should say, “The World was created for me.” The Mishna in Shabbat says that every Jew should view himself as a prince. Clearly, the Torah places a high value on self-esteem because presumably it leads to self-actualization, our desire to reach our potential. And that is a wonderful message for teshuva – realize you’re great, realize your potential and then try to achieve it. Maslow’s hierarchy seems to be a great model for teshuva.
But it’s not so simple. First of all, even if we argue that self-esteem leads to self-actualization, a feeling of I am great, I have so much potential so let me actualize my potential, how do I know that I am going on the right path? Maybe I am not an objective analyst of current path? Maybe I think that I am going in the right direction, but I am not? I really want to change and act better and be better and make better choices, but do I always know what’s best for me. I love reading on social media how someone reports that he or she started a new position and that post receives a lot of “likes,” because so many people are happy for that person. And I wonder, do the people who are “liking” the post truly believe that this new position is better for that person, or are they simply happy that the one who posted his or her new status is now happy with this new position? Maslow’s hierarchy might not work because there’s no objective standard to let me know that this is my potential and I have actualized it.
Secondly, despite the benefits of self-esteem, it is important to acknowledge that self-esteem is not always healthy and can yield positive results. Anthony Storr, leading British psychiatrist and psychoanalyst, stated Maslow himself began to harbor doubts about the hierarchy and the value of self-esteem. [source] He found that those with highest self-esteem were more apt to come late to appointments, were less respectful and were more condescending. Others found that self-esteem led to indulgence. Self-esteem, focusing on our own self-worth, was found to often lead to an obsession with the self, narcissism, aggression, materialism, a lack of caring for others and shallow values. Some studies found that students with high self-esteem tend to overestimate their abilities. They also like to boast to others about what they can do. They tend to be smug and superior when interacting with others. And some studies have shown that people with high self-esteem seem blind to their faults and are even less likely to learn from experience, change or improve themselves. How do we deal with the dangers of self-esteem?
So, yes, there is a lack of standards to measure success in Maslow’s hierarchy and there is a danger associated with a self-esteem/self-actualization model. But is there a better model to guide us in our lives to achieve greatness, to unlocking our potential? And the answer is yes.
The truth is that at the end of his life, Maslow began having some doubts about his hierarchy. In his personal journal, published only after his death in 1970, Maslow wrote about some developing crisis. [source] What was this developing crisis about? It seems that Maslow had an epiphany towards the end of his life. He realized that his hierarchy was incomplete. There is another level beyond self-esteem and self-actualization and that’s self-transcendence, the need to look beyond oneself. See the passage from an essay published after his death. What does it mean to live a life of transcendence? See this passage from Mark Koltko-Rivera, a psychologist who wrote a paper on Maslow’s change in thinking. The key difference between self-actualization and self-transcendence is that at the level of self-actualization, I work on myself and being the best that I can be, whereas at the level of transcendence, I live a life in service to others – it’s not about me, but it’s about others.
What does the Torah have to say about all this? Are we in favor of self-actualization as an ideal or are we in favor of self-transcendence as an ideal? Well, let’s think about happiness for a moment. What would ideal happiness look like for a self-actualizer? Happiness for a self-actualizer is a recognition that I have achieved my goals, that I have reached my potential and I feel good about that. The Torah, however, defines happiness in a different manner. The first example of happiness in the Torah is happiness for the other, when God tells Moshe that Aaron is waiting to meet him and he will see all the greatness that Moshe achieved and he will be happy for Moshe. When the Torah teaches us about the mitzva of bikkurim, the mitzvah of bringing our first fruits and expressing gratitude to God for taking us out of Egypt and bringing us to Eretz Yisrael, the Torah states that only after we bring the fruit and express our gratitude do we feel this state of simcha, of happiness. Sharing our first fruits rather than keeping them is a perfect example of the pursuit of happiness according to the Torah. The Rambam, in fact, codifies this in hilchot Yom Tov when he rules that if you observe simchat Yom Tov by providing food for your family but locking the door to needy people then you have only achieved simchat creiso, a lower-level happiness, as opposed to the mitzva of simcha. Additionally, he describes the highest level of simcha that we can attain, which is to bring joy to those who are downtrodden.
However, when we talk about bringing simcha to the other yielding the greatest simcha, it is not only the human “other,” but it is also the Divine “Other,” namely God. Rav Soloveitchik famously connects the mitzva of simcha to lifnei Hashem – that true happiness is when we sense that we are standing in the presence of God, as it were. According to the Torah, the highest level of simcha is when we are cognizant of the other, when we are happy for the other, when we are fully committed to the happiness of the other and when we sense the presence of God.
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks once retold a story he heard about the Lubavitcher Rebbe when he visited him in 1968. Someone had written to the Rebbe that “I am depressed. I am lonely. I keep mitzvot but find no peace of mind. I need the Rebbe’s help.” The Rebbe’s total response to the letter was to just circle the first word of every sentence, “I.” Simcha, happiness in Torah Judaism, involves the other. Happiness is a collective joy. The highest level of happiness is achieved not through self-actualization, but through self-transcendence. For the self-actualizers, the end game is about feeling good about yourself. For the self-transcenders, the end game is about leading a life of service for others. The Torah believes that happiness is not just about the pursuit of self-serving ends. It is about being beacons of goodness for the world around us.
We have two different paths – one path leading to self-actualization and one path leading to self-transcendence. How do we arrive at these two different paths? As mentioned before, the path of self-esteem leads to self-actualization. I am great. I have great potential so I must actualize my potential. Again, this sounds good, but we have to contend with the two challenges of a lack of clarity and standards as to when I achieve this goal and the danger of becoming too self-absorbed. Let’s say that I want to achieve self-transcendence, living a life focusing on my relationships with and servicing others, whether it’s with people or with God, what’s the path? How do I get there?
The answer is humility. Self-esteem leads you to self-actualization and humility leads you to self-transcendence. Now I know that we have heard of two seemingly contradictory values in Judaism: anavah, or humility and kedushat ha-adam, the sanctity of every individual. Humility is important, but recognizing the sanctity of every individual is also important. In other words, this debate between self-esteem leading to self-actualization and humility leading to self-transcendence is actually a debate between these two Torah values of avanah and kedushat ha’adam. The truth is, though, that the Torah clearly prioritizes one of these two values and the Torah redefines the other.
It is clear that humility is one of the most critical values in Torah Judaism. Even though the Rambam believes in the Golden Mean whereby we should balance all of our values and not be extreme in any one value, he makes an exception with respect to two midot, two character traits. One of them is humility. We should always be humble in the extreme. Moshe Rabbenu, the leader of our people, our role model par excellence, is defined by this characteristic. The Torah, as per Rav Lichtenstein, is issuing a call to us for humility. That should be our defining characteristic.
Of course, that begs the question – what does it mean to be humble? This reminds me of a story that takes place during a dinner to celebrate the work of a communal leader, when the guest speaker paid tribute to the leader’s many qualities: his dedication, hard work and foresight. As he sat down the leader leaned over and said, “You forgot to mention one thing.” “What was that?” asked the speaker. The leader replied, “My humility.” But what does that mean? Does it mean that we are supposed to feel like a nothing, like a nobody? Is this how we model Moshe Rabbenu? Is this how we model the midda that will lead us to a life of self-transcendence?
In his book, “Mere Christianity,” C.S. Lewis, famous British writer, gave a seemingly surprising definition of humility. It is not someone who walks around feeling so lowly. It is someone who will not be thinking about himself at all. He will be thinking about others. His motto will be, “How can I help you?” For the humble person, it’s never about him or her. A humble person does not need to undervalue or disparage himself or herself. He or she is far too busy engaging in the world beyond his or her own self-drama. Moshe is called anav m-od mi-kol ha-adam. Moshe Rabbenu is humbler than everyone else. How did this humility manifest itself? Moshe’s humility is an expression of his conviction that everything he has accomplished is because God has been assisting him. He sees himself as an “eved hashem” and just as a loyal servant doesn’t focus on his own desires but strives to please his master, so too Moshe the “anav” is Moshe the “eved.”
His humility is exactly why God refers to him as “avdi Moshe.” To be humble is to live a life of transcendence dedicated completely to someone else, in this case God. To be humble is to be committed to living a life of service to others and that is the path to self-transcendence.
Now it is true that there are passages in Chazal about the value of self-esteem. For example, the Gemara in Masechet Sanhedrin states that everyone should say that the world was created for me, but as Rashi points out, I should feel that way so that I don’t waste my potential by committing a sin. Rav Tzadok Ha-Kohen writes that a person should believe in himself and the Alter of Slabodka would often stress that man is great – kedushat ha-adam. But these statements were only a prelude to a responsibility to develop ourselves and serve God to the best of our ability. In other words, self-esteem is valuable. Feeling good about ourselves is valuable. But this attitude is only a means to an end and not an end to itself. Self-esteem, feeling good about myself, may be necessary at times to inspire me not to give up on myself and to constantly strive to be better, but it’s not an end to itself. Humility, in contrast, is an end to itself. Humility is a way of life, a life that we live to be connected to others. And if we are blessed with some wonderful value, we don’t think that this means we are great. It just means that we were created with these qualities and we now have a responsibility to utilize them in service of others. Real humility is a recognition that we are nothing by ourselves. We need others. We need God. We need other people. This is humility leading to transcendence.
But how do we achieve greatness through transcendence, through looking beyond ourselves? We achieve greatness in two directions – by giving and receiving. First, looking beyond ourselves means living a life of service, of giving to others. The great psychiatrist and Holocaust survivor Viktor Frankl forcefully critiqued the goal of self-actualization, arguing that the most effective way to achieve our best selves is through self-transcendence, through giving to another. Living a life of service is where we find our greatest meaning. Forgetting ourselves and giving of ourselves to others is where we find our greatest meaning. This is why Rabbi Sacks writes so beautifully that morality turns us outward – it is not about focusing on bettering ourselves but it is about bettering the world around us, not about self-help, but about strengthening our relationships with others and responding to their needs.
But looking beyond ourselves is more than giving to others. It is about a willingness to receive from others. It is an acknowledgement that self-help is not enough, because maybe I don’t know the best way to help myself. Maybe I need an outside objective source to guide me as to the right path.
Charles Liebman was a political science professor at Bar Ilan University and a prolific author on Jewish life and Israel. He passed away in 2003. In 1997, he wrote an article entitled, “Post-War American Jewry: From Ethnic to Privatized Judaism.” He argued that much of American Jewry thinks in terms of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs as an ideal, which is self-fulfillment and personal autonomy, as opposed to identifying with families, localities, ethnic groups or even nations. He then distinguished between two terms: ruchniyut and kedusha – spirituality and holiness. Both seem to be positive on the surface and they often seem to be interchangeable. I want to live a life of spirituality, a life of holiness, and yet, he argued that spirituality is not the answer to the Jewish problem. In fact, spirituality, or ruchniyut, is the problem, and the solution is kedusha, or holiness. The Torah does not command us to be spiritual. The Torah commands us to be kadosh, or holy. Mussar literature is concerned with holiness and not spirituality. Professor Liebman wrote that “holiness is achieved in a minyan as part of public observance. Spirituality points to individuality… while holiness points to virtuous life. Kedusha evokes an outside source to which we submit; spirituality entails a process of self-realization.” Spirituality is very enticing because it is personal. It is more connected to what I find appealing and so we are naturally more connected to an act of spirituality than an act of holiness, which is imposed from something external. But at the end of the day, our tradition issues a command of kedusha, of agreeing to submit to an outside source to guide us to greatness – Kedoshim tihyu ki kadosh ani Hashem Elokeichem – we are commanded to be holy because God is holy and God is guiding us how to achieve holiness. And not only does God guide us to holiness. He is there helping us. When we make God part of our lives, then God plays a personal role in purifying us. Rabbi Akiva compares our presence in a mikvah to our presence in front of God. Just as the mere presence in the mikvah purifies us, our presence in front of God, as it were, purifies us. It’s all about looking beyond ourselves.
Kedusha is about looking beyond ourselves to guide us in greatness, and it highlights the power of the voice from the outside that is so desperately needed for us to achieve greatness. Viktor Frankl was that voice to so many concentration camp survivors when he gave people a reason to live. He gave the inmates a mission and that mission had to be a call from outside the self. Decisions, willpower, stamina and resilience are all up to us, but it the voice from the outside, from other people, who make the difference in our lives guiding us, inspiring us and giving us hope. See what Rabbi Sacks wrote about great leaders. A great leader needs someone who sometimes will whisper in the leader’s ear, “Not a good idea.” A leader’s strength is his or her own, but it takes someone else to protect him or her from his or her weakness. If you think of great leaders, they will tell you about the person who inspired them, who guided them and who directed them to achieve what they achieved.
We all want to better ourselves, but let us do it the best way possible. Let’s move from a path of self-esteem and self-actualization to humility and self-transcendence, from thinking about how I can be the best I can be to how can I live a life of service to others and a willingness to be guided by others towards perfection.
How do we accomplish this type of teshuva in practice, a teshuva of humility leading to self-transcendence? What does this look like in actuality? First, it means that we act without any expectation of gratitude. I know that’s very hard because we have a natural desire to be recognized for our accomplishments and we should continue expressing gratitude to others. But for ourselves, let’s try harder to do things not ‘al menat l’kabel pras.’ not in order to receive reward, whether that refers to a spiritual reward or a material reward or even recognition for what we’ve done. Look, I know it's not easy. I can tell you that, for myself, as a rabbi there have been times when a congregant has thanked me profusely for something so small that I may have done and I felt that that the gratitude was so undeserved. There also have been times when I may have done a lot for a congregant and I may have received very little gratitude in return. And when that happens it hurts. Do you know why it hurts? Because I’m human and I’m sure we have all had our moments like this. But this type of teshuva requires transcendence. It requires us to transcend our humanity. It requires us to realize that at the end of the day, it’s not about whether something thanks me, even though it might be nice to receive a thank you. The goal is humility. It’s not about me. Ultimately, we should do things simply because we are here on this earth to live a life of service to others and to God. We are avadim. We are servants of humanity and we are servants of God and we are proud to play that role in society. The fact that we are called the “Chosen People” should not play into my self-esteem and make me feel superior to my non-Jewish neighbors. To be a “Chosen People” simply means that we were chosen to live a life of service, l’taken olam b’malchut sha-kai, to help fix a broken world.
This attitude requires a slight shift in perspective from saying, “How can I be the best that I can be” to saying, “How can I help you? How can I be the best “eved Hashem” that I can be?” This slight shift in perspective can make all the difference in the world. And you can see it in some of your friends. There are some people who excel at this midda. We know these people. They are always proactively running to help others. They are among the most honored people in our community, but they all run away from honor. Their whole being, their whole essence is being there for other people. I was sitting at a wedding a few weeks ago and someone was telling me about a particular person who was living in a particular community, first as a renter. When it came time for him to buy a house, he specifically purchased a home near the local hospital. Why? So that he can have easy access to the hospital and visit people in the hospital and take care of their needs and have relatives of patients over for Shabbat meals. That is simply amazing! Not I’m not suggesting that we start another community around Mount Sinai South Nassau Hospital, but this is an example of what we should strive for. It’s not about me. It’s just about how can I help you?
Secondly, in practice this type of teshuva means that we must be humble and find someone who will be honest with us and tell us our shortcomings. Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach lamented over the fact that people ask him so many halachic questions about the chag and they care about all the details to ensure that they are doing the right thing, but nobody asks any questions about teshuva, about how to repent, about how to be a better person. Do we have someone in our lives who can serve as our critic and honestly tell us when we are not living up to our potential? I am familiar with the famous statement in the gemara in Masechet Erchin where our Sages wondered if people know how to accept rebuke or give rebuke nowadays. I get that. But if you truly want to grow, find yourself someone, a spouse, a friend, a Rav, a mentor. It could be from this community or from another community, someone from whom you are committed to listen to and to grow, someone who can be that voice. Recognize that if we live a life of transcendence emanating from humility then that means that I don’t know everything, I am lacking in objectivity when it comes to my religious growth and therefore, I will seek out someone who will be that voice who will help lead me on the right path. And maybe find a voice that will push you and will hold you accountable when you decide to grow. This past week I made three kabbalot, three resolutions, one in the realm of mitzvot bein adam la’makom, one in the realm of mitzvot bein adam la’chavero and one in the realm of mitzvah bein adam l’atzmo – three small concrete resolutions that I want to improve upon and I told each one to a different child and I am counting on three of my children to hold me accountable and to push me in my religious growth. I am not going to tell what the resolutions were or who the children are at this time, but I am personally looking for an outside voice to push me, to help me grow.
And living a life of transcendence emanating from humility also means that I am more open to the fact that maybe God knows best, that maybe even though it seems that the burden that God places upon me, whether it’s my life circumstance or a certain halacha, seems to be too much, I accept the burden with humility and with love. This is what it means when we recite the shema. When we recite the shema, we are mekabel ol malchut shamayim – we accept the burden that God places upon us, but then we say, “v’ahavta et Hashem elokecha.” We accept this burden with love. That, my friends, is transcendence.
May God help us shift our perspective and our attitude for the year 5784, from a focus on me, on self-esteem and self-actualization, to a focus on transcendence, on living a life dedicated to others and a life open to learning from others. Be that person whose bumper sticker is, “How can I help you” without any expectation of something in return and find someone whom you embrace as your conscience and guide in your quest to meaningful, authentic, religious growth. May this shift in perspective and attitude open the gates to a life of greater happiness, greater fulfillment and greater meaning for each one of us and for our entire community.