Making the Thinkable Unthinkable
The Ramban (Bereishis 2:9) states that when the world was created, Adam Harishon’s existence was similar to that of all other elements of creation. Just as all animal and plant-life, soil and space existed to do Hashem’s will, so too Adam Harishon’s sole desire was to do Hashem’s will. Even his reproductive organs functioned in this manner, with no element of taava present at all. Only after the sin did Adam now have an additional desire to sin.
According to the Ramban, we can ask: How could Adam Harishon have sinned in the first place? He had no yetzer hara! Moreover, we know that the purpose of creation was to give man the power of choice, and thus enable him to ascend toward Hashem or distance himself from Him, chalila (Ramchal, Maamar Ha’Ikarim). That being the case, why was Adam Harishon originally created in a way that prevented him from realizing this purpose?
Rav Dessler, based on Nefesh Hachaim (1:6), answers that when Adam Harishon was created, there in fact was a yetzer hara present in the world, only it was not inside of him. Adam Harishon’s own nature was only to do Hashem’s will, but he was vulnerable to outside influences. The yetzer hara could approach him from outside, as it did in the form of a snake. Therefore, Adam Harishon did have the ability to choose good over evil.
When Adam gave in to sin, the yetzer hara was now inside of him. Within him were now forces pulling him toward behavior that defied Hashem’s will. Bodily desires that the Torah forbids were now part of his nature. This was a sea change in identity. If before the sin, Adam’s body was only a cloak for his soul, now his very being was fragmented. He was split between opposing desires, both of them real parts of his personality.
From Adam’s time onward, all humanity faces this same dilemma. The yetzer hara is inside of us, meaning we are in a perpetual state of war. We are faced constantly with conflicting desires, pulling us simultaneously toward holiness or toward sin.
The Ramchal (Daas Tevunos 126, as elucidated by Harav Chaim Friedlander) states that in the wake of Adam Harishon, our task is to repair his sin and strive to bring our own nature as much as we can back to that of Adam’s original state; namely, to want to do only Hashem’s will.
How is this possible? After all, we already have a yetzer hara inside of us?
Rav Dessler explains that each of us lives at a level of choice in which certain sins are either not or no longer a challenge for us. Let’s take an observant Jew who learns Torah as much as he can, prays with deep intent, and performs many acts of kindness. For him, desecrating the Shabbos is not something he has to “choose” not to do. Vis-à-vis keeping the Shabbos, we can say that this man is like Adam Harishon before the sin. He has no yetzer hara goading him to desecrate the Shabbos. However, when it comes to indulging in idle chit-chat in the middle of a learning seder, here this man faces a challenge, and he doesn’t always succeed. This, says Rav Dessler, is what the Ramchal meant: Such a man should strive to make the very notion of idle chatter in the middle of a learning seder as unthinkable for him as the notion of desecrating the Shabbos. This is called “bringing ourselves back to the state of Adam Harishon before the sin.”
Rav Eliyahu Lopian adds an important idea (based on Avos D’Rebbe Nassan 27:23 as explained in the Chida’s Kisei Harachamim): If a Jew puts all of his energy into Torah study, this itself protects him from sin, as the Sages state (Kiddushin 30b), “I created the yetzer hara, and I created the Torah to be a spice for it.” Just as a spice brings out the good taste of a food, so too Torah study brings forth a man’s good qualities, and in the process, his natural inclination toward sin is weakened. If a certain sin tempts him, exerting himself in Torah study can cause this sin to lose its appeal. Slowly but surely, Torah study can weaken sins to the extent that they become “unthinkable” for us, and in this we are succeeding in returning our nature to that of Adam Harishon before the first sin.
Rav Avraham Brim would give additional advice: get as close as you can to tzaddikim, and the Torah that they possess can elevate us. He based this on the Sages’ statement (Yoma 31b) that “Hashem saw that there would be very few tzaddikim, therefore He made sure to plant some tzaddikim in every generation.” In each era, there are tzaddikim who through their deeds serve as an example and help us to break away from the urge to sin.
Rav Brim would recount: “When I was in the presence of the Chazon Ish, I saw a human being before me who behaved like an angel. It was clear that taavos had no sway over him at all. And in the Chazon Ish’s presence, I too did not feel any desire to sin.”
Sometimes just looking at the face of a tzaddik makes a profound effect upon a person, even one mired in sin. Once, Rav Yechezkel Levinstein had to travel to Tel Aviv, and his wallet was stolen. He searched and searched, even contacted the police, but to no avail.
Sometime later, a man came to him and said: “Rabbi, I want to return to you your wallet. You should know, I planned initially to steal it, but when I saw the picture on your identity card, I just couldn’t bring myself to do such a thing.”
May we be zoche to repair Adam Harishon’s sin!
According to the Ramban, we can ask: How could Adam Harishon have sinned in the first place? He had no yetzer hara! Moreover, we know that the purpose of creation was to give man the power of choice, and thus enable him to ascend toward Hashem or distance himself from Him, chalila (Ramchal, Maamar Ha’Ikarim). That being the case, why was Adam Harishon originally created in a way that prevented him from realizing this purpose?
Rav Dessler, based on Nefesh Hachaim (1:6), answers that when Adam Harishon was created, there in fact was a yetzer hara present in the world, only it was not inside of him. Adam Harishon’s own nature was only to do Hashem’s will, but he was vulnerable to outside influences. The yetzer hara could approach him from outside, as it did in the form of a snake. Therefore, Adam Harishon did have the ability to choose good over evil.
When Adam gave in to sin, the yetzer hara was now inside of him. Within him were now forces pulling him toward behavior that defied Hashem’s will. Bodily desires that the Torah forbids were now part of his nature. This was a sea change in identity. If before the sin, Adam’s body was only a cloak for his soul, now his very being was fragmented. He was split between opposing desires, both of them real parts of his personality.
From Adam’s time onward, all humanity faces this same dilemma. The yetzer hara is inside of us, meaning we are in a perpetual state of war. We are faced constantly with conflicting desires, pulling us simultaneously toward holiness or toward sin.
The Ramchal (Daas Tevunos 126, as elucidated by Harav Chaim Friedlander) states that in the wake of Adam Harishon, our task is to repair his sin and strive to bring our own nature as much as we can back to that of Adam’s original state; namely, to want to do only Hashem’s will.
How is this possible? After all, we already have a yetzer hara inside of us?
Rav Dessler explains that each of us lives at a level of choice in which certain sins are either not or no longer a challenge for us. Let’s take an observant Jew who learns Torah as much as he can, prays with deep intent, and performs many acts of kindness. For him, desecrating the Shabbos is not something he has to “choose” not to do. Vis-à-vis keeping the Shabbos, we can say that this man is like Adam Harishon before the sin. He has no yetzer hara goading him to desecrate the Shabbos. However, when it comes to indulging in idle chit-chat in the middle of a learning seder, here this man faces a challenge, and he doesn’t always succeed. This, says Rav Dessler, is what the Ramchal meant: Such a man should strive to make the very notion of idle chatter in the middle of a learning seder as unthinkable for him as the notion of desecrating the Shabbos. This is called “bringing ourselves back to the state of Adam Harishon before the sin.”
Rav Eliyahu Lopian adds an important idea (based on Avos D’Rebbe Nassan 27:23 as explained in the Chida’s Kisei Harachamim): If a Jew puts all of his energy into Torah study, this itself protects him from sin, as the Sages state (Kiddushin 30b), “I created the yetzer hara, and I created the Torah to be a spice for it.” Just as a spice brings out the good taste of a food, so too Torah study brings forth a man’s good qualities, and in the process, his natural inclination toward sin is weakened. If a certain sin tempts him, exerting himself in Torah study can cause this sin to lose its appeal. Slowly but surely, Torah study can weaken sins to the extent that they become “unthinkable” for us, and in this we are succeeding in returning our nature to that of Adam Harishon before the first sin.
Rav Avraham Brim would give additional advice: get as close as you can to tzaddikim, and the Torah that they possess can elevate us. He based this on the Sages’ statement (Yoma 31b) that “Hashem saw that there would be very few tzaddikim, therefore He made sure to plant some tzaddikim in every generation.” In each era, there are tzaddikim who through their deeds serve as an example and help us to break away from the urge to sin.
Rav Brim would recount: “When I was in the presence of the Chazon Ish, I saw a human being before me who behaved like an angel. It was clear that taavos had no sway over him at all. And in the Chazon Ish’s presence, I too did not feel any desire to sin.”
Sometimes just looking at the face of a tzaddik makes a profound effect upon a person, even one mired in sin. Once, Rav Yechezkel Levinstein had to travel to Tel Aviv, and his wallet was stolen. He searched and searched, even contacted the police, but to no avail.
Sometime later, a man came to him and said: “Rabbi, I want to return to you your wallet. You should know, I planned initially to steal it, but when I saw the picture on your identity card, I just couldn’t bring myself to do such a thing.”
May we be zoche to repair Adam Harishon’s sin!