Part of the spiritual challenge for me is transforming my desire to receive into a desire to share. It is perhaps the most difficult task I have ever attempted, and I fail as often as I succeed.

I am inspired and encouraged in this work by my longtime reading of the Kabbalah, the texts written by unknown Hebrew mystics and prophets, and philosophers thousands of years ago.

The Kabbalah is the first religious text I have ever read that never offends me, makes me uncomfortable, or feel bullied.

The Kabbalah teaches – as Christ did – that every good deed or positive action or gesture we perform, every empathic thought that passes through our minds, brings forth the Light and moves us closer to our Creator, whatever form that takes.

When I talk about the Army of Good, I often refer to small acts of great kindness as our defining goal.

That idea has served us well and kept us focused and successful. I got the idea from the Kabbalah.

These acts are small in one sense but huge in another.

A basic principle of the Kabbalah is this: what seems small in the physical realm often looms large in the spiritual world.

Jesus promised a reward in heaven; there is no heaven in the Kabbalah. The reward is the soul; the reward is the deed. No strings attached. I don’t look to heaven for any kind of reward; I want to be a better human being right now.

Every week, I choose one deed  and keep it a secret:
“When you do good deeds,” said Matthew,” don’t try to show off…When you give to the poor, don’t let anyone know about it. Then your gift will be given in secret.”

Positive deeds come in many ways, giving $5 to Mickey, who walks the streets all day, buying socks for a Mansion resident whose feet are cold, being polite to a customer support agent in Pakistan that you can’t understand, or an ATT&T customer service agent who expects to be shouted at all day, or an exhausted government employee trying to be helpful on the phone.

For me, empathy is the path to sanctity. Empathy, to put myself in the shoes of another,  is the highest pinnacle of humanity.

I live in a nether world of praise and hostility; every day, someone tells me I am a good person doing good, every day, somebody tells me I am a fraud,  nasty and dishonest.

Since there is no such thing as a perfect human being, I have to assume that both things are true at different times and in different ways. You can’t defend yourself from the truth.

I can’t really know what I am like to others; I can only treat others as I wish to be treated myself. I can only be  honest and true to myself; there is no one else inside of me.

I believe that what is hidden in the physical world may be prominent in the world above or beyond.

“Just as infinitely small atomic particles contain vast resources of energy,” says  one Kabbalah scholar,  “well-concealed, positive thoughts, deeds and feelings have great spiritual value.”

They are healing these small deeds and feelings. Anger is destructive, corrosive, the farthest thing from spiritual.

But I know I have work to do and am eager to do it.

Even well-camouflaged expressions of selfishness, anger, insensitive move us away from the Light and closer to chaos, cruelty, pain, and rage.

Our ego tells us that we are alone in the world, that we must do everything ourselves. The Light tells me otherwise.

I am not sure about God. But I am certain about faith. Faith whispers to me that I am not alone, that every good thing I do say or feel builds a relationship with my Creator.

The Kabbalah calls this “creating a vessel in which the Light can flow.” I like that idea.

The more I acknowledge my need for help, the more help I receive.