For the last two weeks, we have been extrapolating many disciplines for life from the profound game of chess. Before we continue, I thought I’d share with you an interesting chess vignette of my own.
There was a shomer Torah u’mitzvos chess master by the name of Shmuel Reshevsky, known in the chess world as Samuel Reshevsky. At one time, he was ranked 8th in the world. When I was a nine-year-old boy, my parents took me to the Pine View Hotel in upstate New York to participate in a chess exhibition in which Mr. Reshevsky was going to compete against 50 people simultaneously. At that age, I wasn’t any kind of chess prodigy, but I had a good understanding of the game and, I guess because I barely reached the board, Mr. Reshevsky didn’t pay much attention to me. At the end, however, he was playing me one-on-one until he beat me right before the deadline.
Now, let’s fast forward. I am in my early 20s, a young scholar-in-residence at a Pesach program run by Mel, Schick, and Katz. A very aged Shmuel Reshevsky was also there and he attended my shiurim. On chol hamoed, he gave another simultaneous exhibition in the hotel and asked me whether I’d be playing. I told him I’d love to. He then said to me – with a twinkle in his eyes, “You’re going to lose first.” I was stunned that he remembered what had happened almost a decade and a half earlier with a little boy and I felt up to the challenge.
I played a closed defensive opening which I felt would at least gain me some time. I watched with amazement as he didn’t let any of the other players lose – until he had smothered me to death. As I tipped my king in defeat, I gave him an admiring smile.
For me, one of the great lessons of chess is how it can humble you. You think you see all the angles but, if someone is a few hundred rating points above you, they will just see more possibilities and more angles. It’s all so humbling to know that there is so much more in life that we don’t consider and that there are people who can assess a situation and a problem better and deeper than we can.
As you get better in chess, you just can’t rely on your opponent to make a mistake. Better players won’t make mistakes. Rather, you need to create opportunities for yourself to foster double attacks, pins, forks, discovered checks, and other tactics. So too in life, you just can’t wait around for things to happen. Rather, we have to look to make opportunities for ourselves.
Another important factor of skilled play is to seize the initiative. In the highest levels of chess play – those who are ranked 2,700 and above – the one who plays white wins 64 percent of the time, since he has the extra tempo of the first move. That’s how important it is to take the initiative.
In Yiddishkeit, this is also true about life. We are not supposed to just coast through life. Rather, we are always supposed to be climbing forward and upward. We are taught that a malach, an angel, is an omeid, stationary. He can’t grow. A human, on the other hand, is a holeich. He is supposed to be advancing himself constantly. This is one of the reasons why Yaakov saw a vision of a ladder with its base on the ground and its top in the Heavens. The journey of life is to be constantly climbing one rung at a time, elevating ourselves steadily in spirituality.
The word for the Jewish soul is neshama. It is made up of the same letters as meshane, to change. This is to teach us that spiritual growth is measured by how much we change. If we don’t grow on our own, then Hashem has to challenge us with nisyonos, tests, to force us to grow. It’s preferable for the person to constantly grow on their own, such as “I will daven with more concentration,” “I will make more time to study Torah,” “I will add more spice and freshness to my marriage,” “I will spend more time with my parents,” “I will be more active in communal needs,” and so forth. Taking the initiative, instead of sitting back and letting life pass you by, is a sure way to win in the game of life.
A special feature of chess occurs when the pawn reaches the 8th rank. If it successfully arrives in the last row, it can be promoted to a queen. So too, as we march through life, our focus should be on the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow: Olam Haba, the World to Come. If a person has the correct vision, that this world is only a corridor to the Next World, it changes our priorities and our decision making for our entire lifetime. We will willingly sacrifice certain fleeting pleasures for the eternal rewards of the World to Come.
Finally, in chess, everything is for the king. If the king falls, the game is over. So too we are taught, “She’kol ma’asecha yihiye l’sheim shamayim – All of our deeds should be for the sake of Hashem, our King in Heaven,” and the more things we do “La’asos l’nachas ruach l’Yotzreinu – To give pleasure to our creator,” the more fulfilling and rewarding is our existence.
I hope you will sit down with your young chess players and introduce some of these life lessons to them. May we incorporate them into our lives as well, and be blessed with long life, good health, and everything wonderful.
Transcribed and edited by Shelley Zeitlin.