Poor Alice! It was as much as she could do, lying down on one side, to look through into the garden with one eye; but to get through was more hopeless than ever: she sat down and began to cry again.
“You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” said Alice, “a great girl like you,” (she might well say this), “to go on crying in this way! Stop this moment, I tell you!”
But she went on all the same, shedding gallons of tears, until there was a large pool all round her, about four inches deep and reaching half down the hall.”
– Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
Alice faces a problem that we all face: we are not always in control of our feelings and actions. Alice is the main character in her story, as we are in our own lives. Yet she cannot choose whether to cry. Perhaps “she ought to be ashamed” of herself, but the crying was outside of the limits of her will and self-control. So it is with us.
The question of self-control is a central one, raised year after year as we study the Aseret Hadibrot, the Decalogue. How is it possible for G-d to command us lo tachmod, that we must not enviously covet? Do we not covet in the way that Alice cries, so that it is quite beyond us? How could Hashem raise such an unreasonable expectation and foist it upon us?
Each year, indeed, many answers are marshaled to deal with this problem. In general, the solutions advocate creating strategies, habits and practices that make jealous desire less likely. For instance, Ibn Ezra teaches that we can train ourselves to see things that do not belong to us as being totally beyond the realm of possibility. Just as a peasant does not covet the princess who is so far beyond his orbit, so too, we ought to think of our neighbor’s car and home as being beyond the realm of the possible, not even worth thinking about or getting worked up about.
Rabbi Mecklenberg, in his Ktav veHakabala, suggests that we fill our hearts with the love of G-d, a satisfaction that will drive away desire for anything else. The Beit Halevi suggests that we ought to imagine just how horrible the consequences of violating certain rules will be, and then we will stop reaching for them. For instance, we may consider the terrible ramifications of getting caught stealing from a bank, and this should cool our desire for someone else’s money.
All of these are good solutions, each one practical and not exclusive to the other. We can indeed train ourselves to see what we have as belonging to us, and see those things that belong to others as simply being impossible. We would be better off for it and avoid unnecessary suffering caused by thinking about how we would acquire something that belongs to someone else if only we could somehow acquire it. Likewise, we can positively fill ourselves with a love of G-d, an appreciation for Him, for our lives, and all that He has given us. This, too, is a path that avoids pain. Indeed, it is a joyous path, far better than the alternative. And, should these approaches fail, we can always remember what happens to the exposed thief, the failed man who sought that which did not belong to him. As the Sages teach us, “Anyone who places his eyes on that which is not his is not given what he desires, and that which he had is taken from him.” (Sotah 9a). We would be wise, Rabbi Soloveitchik teaches us in the Beit HaLevi, to take the advice of the Sages and follow the commandments of G-d.
All of that being said, there is a question we feel must be asked when we have this conversation: Do we want control? Do we resent our inability to curb ourselves, as Alice resents the fact that she cries against her will? Does it bother us when we are, once again, sad, upset, angry, because of something we did for reasons beyond us? Are we yet sick of making the same mistakes, having the same fights and regretting the same seemingly inevitable lapses?
If we have had our fill of such troubles, of somehow always picking the worst path when there are several ahead of us, then we must look again at the prohibition of Lo Tachmod with its commentaries. If we want to gain control of our own destinies, we should reframe the entire discussion that centers around this prohibition. Instead of asking, “How can G-d ask me not to feel jealousy,” we can be asking, “How can I achieve mastery in my own life?”
“How can I have that which G-d promises, the ability to choose my own way, to make the next moment my own, to command the contours of my course?”
It is our contention that the desire to master ourselves is natural, good, and to a great degree, possible. None of this is to hide from how much of our lives we cannot control. We cannot choose when, where and to whom we are born. We cannot choose to not be assaulted by evil people and their supporters. We cannot choose our natural personality, proclivities, or painful traumas. So much of life – the vast majority of things, in fact – are not in our control. And yet we remain at the helm of our own choices; we choose how to act; we may pursue wise plans that push us forward and ahead toward our goals and away from failures. As the Sages say, “All is in the hands of heaven except for the fear of heaven.”
The Rambam summarizes this matter succinctly:
Examine the statement, “Against your will you were created, and that which is connected to it – that he mentioned natural matters about which a man has no choice, about which the rabbis, may their memory be blessed, said (Berakhot 33b), ‘Everything is in the hands of Heaven except for the fear of Heaven.’ And he did not say, ‘Against your will you sin,’ or ‘pass’ or ‘go’ or ‘stand’ or what is similar to this (Commentary to Avot, 4:22)”
We say again, then, that notwithstanding our very real limitations, we want whatever control we can have. We don’t want to feel jealous, sad or angry, or do things that hurt us or the people we love and care for. We want to experience personal success in our relationships, communal standing, and in our standing before G-d and His creatures. This is a central facet of being human. We are not forced to act with instinct and we can choose life, excellence, meaning and accomplishment. We must be filled with appreciation and love for G-d, Who pushes us toward greatness with His commandments.
