When Goodness Disappoints: A Chassidic Response to Disillusionment
You set out to do something meaningful—to bring more goodness into the world beyond your daily routine. But when you entered the world of volunteering, expecting selflessness and unity, you found ego, politics, and power struggles. It’s disheartening. How can a place built on kindness feel so familiar to the flaws of the corporate world? • Aharon Schmidt replies, from the Living Jewish’s Farbrengen column • Read More
By Aharon Schmidt, Living Jewish
Question: I’ve worked from 8:30am to 4:00pm in the same corporate job for 20 years. Recently, I began feeling that something was missing—like I needed more meaning in my life, to bring more goodness into the world. A friend suggested volunteering a few hours a week. I loved the idea and chose an organization whose mission deeply resonated with me.
However, once I got involved, I was disheartened. I witnessed infighting, politics, ego struggles, and people vying for honor and control—just like in the competitive corporate world.
It’s really upsetting. What does this say about human nature, when even people who dedicate their lives to helping others fall prey to the same flaws? And what should I do—should I stay or walk away?
Answer: Your question is not only valid—it’s timeless. It reflects a challenge that many spiritually sensitive people face. It can be jarring to step into a world of goodness and still find ego, conflict, and self-interest. Yet, Chassidus provides profound insight into this exact phenomenon and teaches how to navigate it with clarity and compassion.
Two Souls, Two Drivers
The Tanya, foundational text of Chassidic thought, explains that every Jew possesses two souls:
- The G-dly soul, whose desire is to serve Hashem through truth, selflessness, and holiness.
- The animal soul, whose drive is self-preservation, comfort, and ego—even when it cloaks itself in noble garments like charity or altruism.
The animal soul is not inherently evil; it simply acts according to its nature. An animal doesn’t choose—it reacts, it is instinctive. Similarly, when a person does kindness purely because it feels good or aligns with their personality, that act, while valuable, is still being driven by the animal soul. True inner refinement begins when a person acts not because it feels right, but because it is right—according to the objective, divine will of Torah.
A person with a naturally kind temperament may feel generous one day and resentful the next. Without Torah as a guiding force, their actions are inconsistent—and sometimes even dangerous.
So yes, someone can dedicate their life to noble causes, and still be operating from a place of ego or insecurity. Without Torah as a compass, even noble intentions can drift off course.
A Parable
A king wanted to test his son’s integrity and strength. He placed gold, pleasures, and distractions in his path to test his resolve. In one test, he filled a room with actors playing courtiers, each flattering the prince, trying to confuse him, and challenge his loyalty to the king. The prince became overwhelmed and was ready to give in—until he remembered: This is all a test. My job is not to be impressed or discouraged. My job is to remember my father, the king, and what he expects of me.
You are that prince. You entered the organization with noble intent, and now you’ve discovered the “actors” — people driven by ego and personal interest. But this is part of the test. Don’t let it break you. Let it remind you of why you came—to do good.
See the Process, Not the Product
What you are seeing in these individuals is not failure, but process. Think of it like walking into a kitchen mid-cooking: pots are boiling over, counters are messy—but the meal is not yet ready. These people, like all of us, are works in progress. Their behavior reflects not their destination, but their current step.
Your disappointment is a sign of your inner refinement, your yearning for truth. Don’t silence that—but temper it with compassion. Recognize that others are simply in a process of growth. This shift—from judgment to empathy—transforms you into a true lamplighter, someone who brings light without being discouraged by the surrounding darkness.
Should You Stay or Leave?
Ask yourself: Why did I come here? If it was to make a difference, then that mission hasn’t changed. Your presence, your integrity, and your quiet strength can have a ripple effect. Others will notice.
In Pirkei Avot, it says:
“In a place where there are no men, strive to be a man.” (Avot 2:5)
In other words, if you find yourself in an environment where values are lacking, that may be exactly why youwere sent there.
Along these same lines, it is explained in the text, HaYom Yom (3rd of Elul): Divine Providence leads a person to a particular place because his soul must refine and perfect something there. For hundreds of years, or even from the very beginning of creation, the object that must be refined or rectified waits for that soul to come and do that task.
A Final Thought
Remember, when we harbor resentment or disappointment, we carry a heavy emotional load—often heavier than the people who upset us. Releasing judgment doesn’t mean accepting dysfunction, but rather rising above it with understanding and compassion.
As Chassidus teaches: “A little bit of light dispels a lot of darkness.”
Stay focused on your light. Hashem sees it. The world needs it.
Aharon Schmidt is the editor of Living Jewish, a weekly Chabad publication; Shliach in Ramat Beit Shemesh Alef; and therapist specializing in marriage and individual counseling. To receive Living Jewish, email: [email protected]
For more information about therapy services, visit: www.aharonschmidt.com
To receive periodic ideas on navigating marriage and personal growth, reach out to: [email protected]
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