Overcoming Improper Humility: The Power of Our Generation Introduction: The Mandate of Yirmiyahu In the opening prophecy of Yirmiyahu (Jeremiah), God speaks to him and reveals his lifelong mission: "Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you; before you were born, I sanctified you." Yirmiyahu responds out of a sense of inadequacy: "Hashem, I do not know how to speak, for I am just a lad (ki naar anochi)." But Hashem immediately corrects him: "Do not say, 'I am a lad.' For wherever I send you, you shall go, and whatever I command you, you shall speak. Do not be afraid of them..." While the core of Yirmiyahu's book is the message he delivers to the Jewish people, this introductory dialogue is vital for us to read and internalize. Rabbi Adler explains that the first step to greatness is knowing who you are. By showing Yirmiyahu that he was appointed over nations to uproot, destroy, build, and plant, Hashem was uprooting his improper humility . He wanted him to realize his immense power to impact the entire world. Rabbi Yochanan of Lubavitch noted: How many great people fell simply because they never heard or accepted the message of "Don't say I am a lad"? You Are the Center of Your World In Mesillat Yesharim (Chapter 19), regarding the concept of mourning for Yerushalayim (Jerusalem), the Ramchal addresses a common internal barrier. A person might say to themselves: "Who am I? Am I important enough to pray for Yerushalayim? Will my prayers really cause the exiles to gather and salvation to sprout?" The answer is found in the Mishnah ( Sanhedrin 38a): Man was created alone so that every individual must say, "The world was created for me." In your specific world, you are the only one who can offer that unique prayer. Regardless of whether the prayer is immediately answered, the sheer pleasure it gives the Almighty to see His children asking after His home is invaluable. When a request cannot be granted for reasons beyond our understanding, Hashem is still deeply comforted by our effort. Conversely, the prophet Yeshayahu (59:16) laments a lack of this self-awareness: "God sees there is nobody out there... God is stunned that there is no one pushing (ein mafgia)." There is no one stepping up to help. As Pirkei Avot (2:16) reminds us: "It is not incumbent upon you to finish the task, but you are not a free man to desist from it entirely." The Source of Joy in Avodat Hashem The Baal Shem Tov Al HaTorah (Parashat Noach) explains that improper humility distances a person from serving Hashem. When an individual views themselves as low and insignificant, they cease to believe that their prayers or their Torah learning can impact the higher worlds, or that the angels themselves are sustained by their service. If a person truly believed in their spiritual impact, they would serve Hashem with immense joy and awe ( b'simcha u've'yira ). The root cause of failing to serve Hashem with happiness ( tachat asher lo avadta... b'simcha ) is the toxic belief that your actions don't accomplish anything. As all roads lead to the same destination, the Nefesh HaChaim (Sha'ar 1) reinterprets the famous Mishnah in Pirkei Avot , "Da mah l'ma'lah mimcha" (Know what is above you), to mean: Know that what is happening Up Above is directly dependent on you . The Mashal of the Control Tower: Imagine a man sitting in front of a high-tech nuclear control panel, looking at the buttons and whispering, "Who am I? I am nobody." The response to him is: You might be ordinary, but look at where you are sitting. You are at the control tower, and your smallest movement impacts the entire world. The Mashal of the Thief and the Screw: A thief tried breaking into a house but couldn't get through the doors or windows. He climbed onto the roof, but still found no entry. Unwilling to leave empty-handed, he noticed the tip of a large screw protruding from the roof. He decided to unscrew it. Suddenly, there was a massive crash inside. He didn't realize that single screw was holding up the grand chandelier. The Nimshal: In this world, we see what look like small, insignificant "screws"—a minor mitzvah, a short prayer. We think, what's the big deal if I turn it or leave it? We fail to realize what is connected to the other end in the upper worlds. This echoes the advice given by the Kaminetz Rosh Yeshiva, Rav Yitzchak Scheiner, to a Bar Mitzvah boy: "Before you are thirteen, you throw rocks at the ceiling like a child. After your Bar Mitzvah, your words and actions are blocks—some are blocks that build, and some are blocks that break. You must realize your power." The Premium Value of a Lowly Generation In She'elot U'teshuvot Yabia Omer (Vol. 4, Orach Chaim 13), Hacham Ovadia Yosef discusses whether it is proper to omit Tachanun (supplicatory prayers) for a siyum (completion of a Torah tractate) celebrated by working men or casual learners. One might argue that because they aren't elite scholars, and they may not retain everything in depth, the celebration shouldn't warrant skipping these prayers. Hacham Ovadia strongly rules that it absolutely does warrant it. We must lift the banner of Torah and accord tremendous respect to these individuals. Why? Because of the unique value of Torah study in our specific generation. He quotes Rav Chaim Vital, in the name of the AriZal, who revealed a profound spiritual principle: The greatness of a soul's impact does not depend entirely on the magnitude of the deed itself; it depends heavily on the generation in which it is performed. A small deed in a dark, spiritually challenging generation weighs as much as multiple major mitzvot in previous, spiritually pure generations. If that was true in Safed 400 years ago, imagine the value of our actions today. Supply, Demand, and Heavenly Assistance The Lev Eliyahu (quoting Rav Yisrael Salanter) notes that in a generation where negative forces are rampant, anyone who makes the effort to do teshuva (repentance) receives an extraordinary, disproportionate amount of siyata d'shmaya (Heavenly assistance), holiness, and purity. God always keeps the spiritual scales balanced. The Chofetz Chaim's Baker Mashal: Before World War I, a baker complained to the Chofetz Chaim that business was brutal because customers were picky, demanding, and full of complaints. After the war broke out, the baker reported that business was booming. Why? Because there was a shortage of bread. People happily grabbed whatever they could get. The Chofetz Chaim explained that the same applies to our service of Hashem. In the golden days of old, Heaven checked our service with a fine-tooth comb—how soft was it, how good did it smell? Today, during a spiritual famine, Heaven lovingly accepts anything we can offer. Standing Tall in the Darkness of the Three Weeks Rabbi Moshe Vachfogel ( Daas Torah , Parashat Shelach) writes a staggering thought: In our dark generation, as lowly as we may feel, we are considered tzaddikim gemurim (completely righteous). He questions: Is it a small thing for a young man to travel across oceans, leaving modern comforts, to sit and toil in a yeshiva? A student today who works tirelessly to comprehend the Torah of previous generations—even if he struggles to fully grasp it—may very well be greater in the eyes of Heaven than the historical author whose book he is holding. One groan, one sigh of spiritual yearning in our generation shatters the heavens. One reason for this superiority is motivation. In previous eras, a Torah scholar was met with immense societal respect and prestige. Today, a Ben Torah often faces misunderstanding, apathy, or outright insults from the outside world, yet he pushes forward anyway. Application to the Three Weeks This is the ultimate perspective we need during the Three Weeks of mourning for the Temple: We look at historical accounts of how previous generations wept for the Churban (destruction), and we feel like absolute zeros. We can barely squeeze out a tear. But consider the context: They lived through poverty, crusades, and pogroms. Their physical lives were miserable, making it easier to cry for a missing redemption. We, however, are sitting in the absolute lap of luxury in the middle of the summer. The fact that we willingly pull ourselves away from our comforts, even for a moment, to think about the Churban and feel a sense of loss— that is an unbelievably great achievement. Do not let the Yetzer Hara (evil inclination) use the words of the Sages— "When will my deeds reach the deeds of my forefathers?" —as a tactic to make you give up. In our generation, Emunah (faith) is our true greatness. As the verse says, "Lehagid baboker chasdecha, v'emunatecha baleilot" (To tell of Your kindness in the morning, and Your faithfulness in the nights). Previous generations lived in the "morning"—the light was on, and clarity was accessible. Our job is to survive and shine in the "night." By strengthening our Emunah in the darkness, we achieve ultimate greatness.