What's Chizuk?
Character strengthening doesn't work for me. Why did the Gaon of Vilna say it's the purpose of life?
For many years, I couldn’t understand a famous statement of the Gaon of Vilna (1720-1797), one of Judaism’s most prominent authorities of Torah law and thought:
A person is alive to break whatever character defect he has not yet broken. Therefore, he must always strengthen himself. If he won’t strengthen himself, why does he live? (Gr’a on Mishlei 4:13)
In common Jewish parlance, the Hebrew word for strengthening, chizuk, implies powerfully pushing past obstacles in the path of Torah observance and spiritual growth. The impetus for chizuk is often hearing an inspirational lecture or similarly stimulating event. People even call them “chizuk classes.”
Chizuk talks might go something like this:
“Work harder to concentrate during prayer and study; otherwise you’re not taking God and Judaism seriously!”
“Anger is akin to idol worship. So when people push your buttons, hold yourself back with all your might!”
“If you try hard enough, you’ll manage to get out of bed to be on time for morning prayers!”
"Pour all of your energy into studying, never waste a minute, and you'll become a great scholar!"
Willpower works for some people. But it never worked for me. And I hear that I’ve got some kindred spirits.
For us unfortunate souls, chizuk goes great for a short while, but we quickly revert to exactly where we started. Our chizuk goes in cycles: two steps forward, two steps backward, get inspired again, and repeat the process.
Does Chizuk Change Us?
Our Days of Awe commitments demonstrate the limitations of chizuk. The moving liturgy touches our hearts; we resolve to do better, that this time it will stick. But by Chanukah, we've long forgotten what it was that we promised to change.
Next year comes around. We make the same sort of decisions, and get the same disappointing results.
Two steps forward, two steps backward.
It’s not so surprising. There are good reasons we do the things we do, for better and for worse. Many of our habits have been cultivated over decades, some our entire lives. They are the fabric of our being, our very identity.
When the initial excitement of chizuk wears off, whatever drove our old ways will easily brush away half-forgotten resolutions. Why should a spur-of-the-moment, tear-filled resolution to try very, very hard make us into different people?
It All Begins in the Body
This is the heart of my problem with chizuk: it pretends I can strengthen myself by acting as if I'm as strong as I'd like to become. But I can’t, because that’s stronger than I currently am.
So what did the Gaon mean when he anointed chizuk as the central purpose of life?
Until I started to exercise regularly, the Gaon’s intention eluded me. But over many years of working consistency and effectively to strengthen my body, I’ve learned a thing or two about strengthening my spirit.
If we want to find genuine spiritual strengthening, we must explore physical strength, much in the same way that we must Move Well to understand the journey of life. Spiritual principles must be grounded in our physical bodies for they to have reality. As Job (19:26) put it, “From my flesh I see God.”
So when the Gain taught that life is about chizuk in the battle against character deficiencies, he can't mean to simply try harder, forcing myself to act stronger than I am today, because that's not the way to become physically strong.
For example, if I’ve never ran before, jumping straight into a marathon (or even the 5K) will just get me injured before I’m halfway through. Effective strengthening – whether of body or spirit - never requires pushing beyond my current limits.
Let’s take a close look at effective chizuk.
Beyond the Comfort Zone - But Not Too Far
Some movements take little effort, like chewing pizza and reaching for the AC remote. Even when we’re perfectly still, our diaphragms pump air in and out. Exercise physiologists measure the Basal Metabalic Rate, which is the amount of calories we burn just by staying alive.
This type of movement alone won’t keep us strong and healthy.
But neither will attempting to push past our limits. A couch potato who tries running a marathon, or even just 10K, will end up injured before he’s halfway through. Even a strenuous shopping spree might be too much. This isn’t strengthening but hurting.
Healthy effort - as with everything in healthy living - lies between the two extremes. It requires exertion, but remains clearly within our limits. For example, experts warn not to work out for long periods very close to our maximum heart rate. Vigorous exercise (like running), they suggest, shouldn't get past 85%.
Dwelling in effort strengthens the body, naturally raising our upper limit. Without planning or forcing anything, the body breaks down worn and weak muscle, renewing itself with fresh and stronger muscles.
Whatever the effort’s details – running in the park, lifting weights in the gym, hiking up a mountain, or carrying the kids home – the process remains the same: get out of your comfort zone and dwell in your effort zone. As your effort zone slowly expands, increase your activity correspondingly.
Effortful movement is a natural place to live. Over time, it comes to feel almost effortless. It doesn’t care about how strong we can become one day. It just watches our current limits and never passes them. Nothing dramatic, nothing extreme. Just dwelling in continuous, steady movement.
That’s how all growth and strengthening happen.
You can’t stretch a sapling into a tall tree, or convince a newborn calf to give milk like its mother. If you try, you’ll just destroy the poor thing.
But you can provide the necessary conditions for growth, which include frequent challenges that require effort to withstand: wind, rain, cold, heat, movement.
Similarly, our characters and spirits don’t get better and holier through force and willpower. We grow by dwelling inside our current effort zones, each person wherever that is. We give ourselves the conditions for growth to happen, but don’t pretend we’re already arrived “there.” We’re exactly where we need to be today, living in exertion.
Chizuk in Torah Study
For example, I might wish to know all the Mishnah, Talmud, and Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah. But I’m not used to intense, consistent study. I’m also often distracted.
Superficial chizuk would begin with a firm resolution to break my laziness, and destroying any device that might divert my attention. Then I’ll decide to finish the Mishnah, Talmud, and Maimonides in five years.
Sitting down with a calendar, I'll plan how many chapters I need to study and review daily. I’ll organize my schedule to fit it all in: only three hours a day, far less than what I’m used to wasting.
Off with a bang, the first few weeks go awesome. I feel very strong, wise, and special, already a remarkable Torah scholar.
Then the initial excitement and energy fizzle out, boredom and distraction come knocking, and the whole edifice collapses in a heap of frustration and guilt.
What happened?
Nothing happened, which is exactly the problem. I didn’t become stronger. I only deluded myself that I was as strong as I wanted to become.
Instead of dwelling in healthy exertion, I pushed past my limits until I crashed. If I forced myself to learn with concentration and intensity that I didn’t have, my relationship with God and the Torah might have been scarred.
In this situation, true chizuk would begin with an honest self-appraisal.
How much can I realistically study each day?
Should I try an amount of content, or will setting an amount of time fit better with my personality?
How can I incorporate off-days to relax and rejuvenate?
After asking myself questions like these, I might decide on an hour a day of undisturbed study, moving along at a brisk pace with minimum analysis. Or perhaps a half hour suits me better. Or maybe two hours.
The details don’t make much of a difference. All that matters is that I’m investing feasible and reasonable effort. My project isn’t about achieving grandiose results, but strengthening my mind, character, and spirit.
Having found found my current effort zone and dwelled inside it, I can stick around and watch myself, learn, grow, and strengthen.
There’s a good chance things will shift around over time. I can’t expect to know today what my limitations will be after months and years of steady growth and strengthening.
I might need to adapt to changing life situations. Sometimes I’ll study with the equivalent of running five miles, other times like a half-hour brisk walk.
In the long run, such differences are just numbers, and aren’t very important. What matters is that I’m dwelling in healthy exertion, each day becoming a little more diligent, focused, and learned.
When will I know the entire Mishnah, Talmud, and Maimonides? I don’t know.
But that was never the point. As the Gaon of Vilna taught, I’m in this world for chizuk.
One Suggestion: Identify an area of your life you’d like to strengthen. Find your current healthy effort zone, taking care not to push past your limits. Practice dwelling in there. Watch yourself grow stronger over time.