The Coin in Front of the Eye

Sometimes, I awaken in the morning before my alarm has told me it’s time to get up. I glance out my bedroom window. If it’s dark outside, I usually turn over and try to go back to sleep. I’m not always successful, however. When not, I still don’t get up, though, for I feel there is yet some benefit in resting even if I’m not sleeping. On these mornings, I will witness the sky move through ever-lightening shades of gray till, at last, the sun rises above the horizon. 

During the day, when the sun is visible, it’s because my part of the earth is facing toward the sun, allowing sunlight to reach me. At nighttime, the earth’s rotation has placed my location on the side facing away from the sun, causing darkness; the earth sits between the sun and me. The earth blocks my view of the sun even though the diameter of the sun is more than one hundred times that of the earth. It’s a simple point. I have spent some time belaboring it, however, because of something I recently read of Rebbe Nachman’s. 

Rebbe Nachman of Breslov (1772 – 1810) was a Hasidic Tzaddik, the founder of Breslov Hassidism, Breslov’s first and only Rebbe. (“Tzaddik” is a Hebrew word that means “righteous one” or “just one.” In Hasidic Judaism, the term “Tzaddik” can also refer to the leader of a Hasidic community, as is the case with Rebbe Nachman, who is considered to be a spiritual mentor and intermediary between his followers and God.) In the passage I want to examine, the Rebbe discusses why some people are unable to see the light of a Tzaddik. What I want to share is found in Likutey Moharan I, 133. There, the Rebbe writes: 

The light of the Tzaddik shines constantly while the barrier is on the side of the receivers. The cause of the barrier is the intervening “earth” – this material world. People are so deeply sunk in the material world that they are unable to receive the light of the Tzaddik….How could something so tiny block something thousands of times greater? To understand this, consider how a small coin held in front of your eyes can prevent you from seeing a great mountain, even though the mountain is countless thousands of times larger than the tiny coin. However, because the coin is directly in front of your eyes, it blocks your entire field of vision. In the same way, when a person enters this physical world, he remains sunk in the vanities of the world and imagines that there is nothing better. This tiny insignificant world stands in his way, preventing him from seeing the amazing light of the Torah, which is thousands of times greater in comparison. This is exactly parallel to the way the great light of the sun is blocked by the intervening earth even though the sun is many times greater than the earth.

Greenbaum, Avraham. The Essential Rabbi Nachman (p. 158). Jewish Inspiration, Inc.. Kindle Edition. 

I like the Rebbe’s use of the coin to illustrate how something small can block something much larger, much more valuable. He was concerned with spiritual blindness. I would like to apply his analogy to human relationships.

Sometimes, we experience disappointment or offense; a friend proves disloyal, for example, or a lover says something unkind to us, or a child is indifferent to us, their parent. Often, we become blinded by what they have done or failed to do, said or failed to say. Their actions or words create a barrier that obscures our view of them. We lose sight of the person behind the actions, as our attention is consumed by what they’ve done. The coin of their action blocks the mountain of who they are.

In Psalm 55, David laments the betrayal of a close friend, expressing his anguish and despair over the betrayal and longing for peace. He writes:

Tanakh: The Holy Scriptures–The New JPS Translation According to the Traditional Hebrew Text. Jewish Publication Society. Kindle Edition. 

David’s thoughts are, understandably, consumed by his friend’s betrayal. His immediate focus on the act of betrayal could overshadow all else in his mind. Nevertheless, he remembers the sweetness of their fellowship. 

I have been using “blinded” metaphorically. But I am aware of cases in which loss of sight can be real. A couple was experiencing severe problems in their relationship. During a routine eye examination, the doctor informed one of the partners that they had developed cataracts in both eyes. The doctor assured them that the cataracts were in a very early stage of development and that it would be several months, if not years before intervention was required. But within just a few short weeks, the stricken partner had progressed to the point where surgery was needed on both eyes. Their body reflected their soul’s torment.

So, what’s my point? It’s a simple one, really. In my own life, I want to make sure that a person’s coin doesn’t block their mountain and that through it all, I still see their goodness. It’s not an easy thing. But then, good things rarely are. To see the face of your friend, or your lover, or your child, to always see them for who they are or, as it sometimes happens, for who they were, I believe, is a blessing, one I long for.

All the best,
Gershon