Tzitzum (literally: contraction) is a fundamental idea in the Ari’s Qabbalah. It describes the Act of Creation as Hashem making “room” for us and everything created “constricting” Himself from conceptual space*.)

(*We do not mean the physical space, which is but one thing thereby created. As Bereishis Rabba put it, and often repeated by Qabbalists, “וקוראין אותו מקום שהוא מקומו של עולם ואין עולמו מקומו — and we call [Hashem] ‘Maqom‘ (Place) for He is the “Place of the universe, and the universe is not His Place.” Hashem isn’t within space. He is prior to it. Since Hashem cannot change, this isn’t literal – either as the Tanya says the tzimtzum is an illusion, or as the Gra says what He constricted wasn’t his Self, but His Will. Thereby giving us “room” to make choices rather than Divine Will mandating everything. I think of Tzimtzum like movie film – Hashem is the pure white “Light” of everything. Everything real, and everything possible. Movie film blocks out the parts of the light that don’t belong in the picture.)

Rav Yosef Ber Soloveitchik ^zt”l describes two mitzvos as emulating Tzimtzum: one is a Chovas haEivarim – a duty of the limbs, i.e. an action, and one a Chovas haLevavos – a duty of the heart and mind.

The physical emulation of Tzimtzum is the mitzvah of Hachnasas Orechim, welcoming guests. We withdraw from our home, to make space for others.

The Middah of Anavah is an internal emulation of Tzimtzum. Rav Soloveitchik notes this in relation to Moshe Rabbeinu at the Burning Bush. Moshe really has two visions there (Shemos 3). First:

2: And Hashem’s angel appeared to him in a flame of fire from the midst of a bush; and he looked, and, here! the bush burned with fire bo’eir ba’eish, and the bush was not consumed.3: And Moshe said, “I will turn aside now, and see this great sight, madu’ah lo yiv’ar haseneh — why the bush does not burn.”

In this prophecy, the bush is within the fire. The fire is bigger than it. And who does Moshe experience? A mal’akh. Then he turns to look and gets a what is basically a second nevu’ah:

4: And when Hashem saw that he turned to look, Hashem called him out of the midst of the bush, and said: “Moshe, Moshe!” And he said: “Here I am.”

In this prophecy, he perceives the concept of Tzimzum. The Divine Presence isn’t larger than the bush after all, the bush is within it! And this prophecy, Rav YB Soloveitchik says, is when Moshe acquires the level and kind of nevu’ah that was unique to him. As Hashem describes it, “‘Face’ to face I will speak to him.” (Bamidbar 12:8) This is also the moment in which Moshe, in emulation of that Tzimtzum, “the man Moshe was more of an Anav than any [other] person on the face of the earth. (Ibid. v. 3)

Moshe saw how Hashem “constricted Himself” to make room for the other, and with that, learned a level of anavah that made room for the other, and for being able to experience the ultimate Other.

Anavah is being a team player. The Baal Gaavah wants to hog the ball and get all the glory and attention of the next basket for himself. And convinces himself he is uniquely able to get it. The Anav knows how to “anah“, to respond or answer the other.

Or to put it another way, when an Anav engages in conversation, they exchange ideas. When a Baal Gaavah does, instead of fully listening they are “listening” for things they could say, the other becomes a soap box.

The same thing happens when we receive guests without fully emulating Tzimtzum. How often have singles, Baalei Teshuvah. Geirim, or just someone going through a lonely time, been invited to a Shabbos meal only to be asked questions, often rather personal ones, just to extract an interesting story that might entertain the hosts? How many times have they left thinking they were merely the Cheftzah shel Mitzvah, the object of the Mitzvah, like an esrog, and not a person in their own right?

We need to emulate Tzimtzum. Not just to constrict ourselves, but to make room within ourselves for the other. We need to constrict our attention to the “atzmi“, the “self” in the limited sense inhabiting this body, to grow an “I” (as Rav Shimon Shkop puts it), that is a network of relationship to other people, to Hashem, and to the world around us. To make a place where we can connect. Rav Wolbe (Alei Shur, vol II, pg 152) explains a teaching from the Alter of Slabodka:

“Ve’ahavta lereiakha komakha — and you shall love your peers like yourself.” That you should love your peer the way you love yourself. You do not love yourself because it is a mitzvah, rather, a plain love. And that is how you should love your peer.