If you really want to know someone well—what captures their interest, imagination, and passion—study the passages highlighted in the books on their nightstand.

In this spirit, it is deeply telling that amid the vast body of Jewish literature and wisdom, the Rebbe repeatedly underscored the following three teachings:

1. “Whoever saves a single life is considered as though he saved an entire world.”1

2. “Therefore [since all humanity descended from one person], each and every person is obligated to say: ‘The world was created for me.’”2

3. “One should see the world and himself as being perched upon a scale with an equal balance of good and evil. When he does one good deed, the scale is tipped to the good, and he brings salvation to himself and the entire world.”3

Together, these three maxims help form the bedrock of the Rebbe’s purpose-driven philosophy, which cast each and every individual as invaluable and indispensable contributors to creation as a whole.

This was the dignifying truth provided by the Rebbe to an individual who was dealing with a demoralizing personal crisis. He confided that his communal work had suffered so many disappointments that he felt unimportant to the point of despair. The Rebbe replied:

I must make special reference to your remark about your personal feeling that there is “no further use for me,” etc. Needless to say, there is no room or justification for such a feeling, G‑d forbid, for this would be counter to one of the basics of Yiddishkeit [Judaism] in general, and of Chabad in particular, which declares that every Jew is like a complete world…4

The Rebbe’s life-affirming perspective emerges from the Kabbalistic notion that, from the very first moment, G‑d has prepared the way and arranged the right circumstances to bring life to you as part of a story that spans the entirety of creation. Literally and figuratively, G‑d crafted the cosmos to make your existence possible. Why? Because you are loved that much, always and in all ways, and because you are essential to the world in a way that is irreducible, irreplaceable, and inimitable.

Although it seems hard to fathom, G‑d’s plan doesn’t work without you. This sublime understanding represents the deeper meaning of the Mishnaic teaching quoted earlier: “The world was created for me.”

Far from a new age platitude or a narcissistic mantra, “the world was created for me” conveys the radical truth that you are essential to the goal of creation, and the world’s ultimate purpose would remain unfulfilled without you.

As the Rebbe wrote inspiringly in a calendar compendium of wisdom for youth:

“Let no one say, ‘What can I do to help in this lofty task?’ For this world is a great royal palace, the palace of G‑d, King of the Universe, erected out of numerous component parts, big and small. Even the smallest particle of the great edifice would leave a gap if it were missing. Each one of us must, therefore, do his share.”5

First Man of Action

The Rebbe expounded on this theme in a letter written in 1964 during the days leading up to Rosh Hashanah. The essential event celebrated by the Jewish new year is the creation of Adam, the first human, who initiated the purpose of creation by acknowledging the power of its Creator, thereby establishing G‑d’s rule over the cosmos and setting in motion the cosmic drama in which we all play a pivotal role.

The Rebbe elaborates:

“One of the main distinguishing features in the creation of Man is that Man was created single, unlike other species, which were created in large populations. This indicates emphatically that one single individual has the capacity to bring the whole of Creation to fulfillment, as was the case with the first Man, Adam…”6

The Rebbe concludes the letter by saying that the same is true for each of us:

“Every Jew, regardless of time and place and personal status, has the fullest capacity (hence also duty) to rise and attain the highest degree of fulfillment, and accomplish the same for the Creation as a whole.”

Contrary to pessimistic views that say we are powerless in our attempts to change the world, the Rebbe taught repeatedly that each of us is uniquely imbued with the indwelling spirit of the infinite, including the Divine purpose it imparts and the sacred power to illuminate and uplift creation as a whole. This awareness leaves little room for the modern, prevailing worldview that we are forlorn, insignificant, and disempowered, living in a broken world too large for us to influence at all.

“Rosh Hashanah disproves the contentions of those who do not fulfill their duty with the excuse that it is impossible to change the world…that the world is so huge and one is so puny—how can one hope to accomplish anything?

“…There were times when the said idea—namely, the ability of a single individual to ‘transform’ the world—met with skepticism, and demanded proof, etc.

“However…[in our time], we have seen how one individual brought the world to the brink of destruction, but for the mercies of the King of the Universe, Who ordained that ‘the earth shall stand firm; shall not fall.’”

This is a truly extraordinary example of the Rebbe’s ability to find something positive and redemptive, even in the seemingly irredeemable realm of evil. Taking a positive example from the architect of the indescribable horrors of the Holocaust, the Rebbe transmutes one man’s terrible abuse of power into a life-altering message for each of us:

If this one person had the power to shift the course of history, so does each of u s! This awareness infuses every action we take with tremendous import. If I matter, my actions matter, in no small terms.

The Rebbe concludes with an axiomatic truth upon which he called often:

“If such is the case in the realm of evil, surely one’s potential is much greater in the realm of good. For, in truth, Creation is essentially good and therefore more inclined toward the good than the opposite.”

Great Expectations

This radical teaching lay at the heart of the Rebbe’s response to R. Yitzchok Meir Gurary, when he asked the Rebbe for guidance in 1970.

Although he was well equipped with stories and lessons from the great sages and Chasidim of old, Gurary explained that he believed his students were in need of a powerful, all-encapsulating truth that would inspire them to remain deeply committed to a life of piety and faith while living in the modern world. The Rebbe replied:

“Your message should continuously reaffirm the teaching of Maimonides that every person should consider themselves, and the world, on an even scale. Impress upon them that every action they take, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant, holds great potential, and it could be that these seemingly small actions are the ones that will bring about the true and complete redemption.”7

This was the Rebbe’s spiritual antidote to what he viewed as the primary challenge of our time. As mentioned in Chapter 1, the Rebbe diagnosed modern youth as suffering from a deep sense of personal insignificance, represented by the question: Mi ani, u’mah ani? Who am I, and what am I? This can be further distilled to the self-deprecating existential equation:

If I don’t matter, what I do doesn’t matte r!

The Rebbe taught the opposite: Not only do you matter, but your every action, large or small, has the power to shape creation and history as a whole.

No Small Deed

Time and again, the Rebbe insisted that we weren’t just given the power to elevate creation, but we were entrusted with the sacred duty and responsibility to do so.

In the Rebbe’s words:

“Herein lies the profound, yet clear, directive, namely, that one man—each and every man—is potentially capable of ‘conquering the world.’ …If a person does not fulfill his task and does not utilize his inestimable Divine powers—it is not merely a personal loss and failure, but it is something that affects the destiny of the whole world.”8 9 10

This powerful truth is illustrated in the story of a man who was called to the beach to paint a boat. While he painted, the man discovered that the boat had sprung a leak, so he decided to mend it before finishing his appointed task, collecting payment, and heading home. The following day, the owner of the boat came to the painter and presented him with an additional, large sum.

Surprised, the painter reminded the boat’s owner that he had already been paid.

“This is not for the paint job; it is for mending the leak in the boat,” the man replied.

“That was such a small thing that I didn’t even want to charge you for it. Surely you are not paying me this huge amount for so small a thing?”

“My dear friend, you do not understand,” the man said. “Let me tell you what happened…”

“When I asked you to paint the boat, I had forgotten to mention the leak to you. When the boat was nice and dry, my children took the boat out and went fishing. When I found that they had gone out in the boat, I was frantic because I remembered that the boat had a leak! Imagine my relief and happiness when I saw them coming back safe and sound. I examined the boat and saw that you had repaired the leak. Do you now see why I am so grateful? You saved the lives of my children! I don’t have enough money to repay you for your ‘small’ good deed...”11

Every action shapes events in ways we can never imagine or foresee, even if it seems small or insubstantial at the time. Even the smallest kindness or act of charity has the potential to result in tremendous good as it reverberates throughout the world. And the same is true of the converse. As our Sages teach, “mitzvah goreret mitzvah, aveirah goreret aveirah—one good deed brings another good deed, one transgression brings another transgression.”12 Each act, each choice, amplifies and propagates, creating more of its kind. In this way, every one of our actions becomes an axis from which a world of possibilities can unfurl.

The Rebbe illustrated this crucial truth on the afternoon of a summer Shabbat in 1969, coinciding with the historic launch of the Apollo 11 spacecraft. During the farbrengen, he proceeded to use the lunar mission as a real-time parable to illustrate the holy significance of a single person’s actions, and the power of just one person to shape the course of history, saying:

“The Baal Shem Tov taught us that ‘from everything a person sees or hears, he must derive a lesson in the service of his Creator.’ Indeed, this event, and its every aspect and detail, is full of instructive insights into our mission in life.”13

The Rebbe then referenced the delicately balanced constellation of factors at play every moment throughout the historic journey. The Apollo 11 mission was the product of decades of work by an estimated four hundred thousand people working across dozens of scientific, engineering, and technological disciplines. He told how every person was given a role with meticulously orchestrated, elaborate parameters and procedures. Every movement within the cockpit, every switch flipped, every nap, every gesture, and every act was governed by an exquisitely arranged plan upon which the success of a billion-dollar project14 and the achievement of humanity’s highest aspirations all depended. Within this delicate arrangement, each act had the potential to save or sabotage the mission.15

The Rebbe concluded that if this is the case with a billion-dollar scientific project, how much more so when applied to the cosmic drama and Divine dance of creation itself?

Joseph’s About Face

To the Rebbe, there was nothing figurative or poetic about this idea. Indeed, he believed that each deed matters to all of creation in the most literal sense, emphatically extolling the transformational power of a single action to shape history.

The Rebbe vividly illustrated this understanding during a talk given on 19 Kislev 5721 (1960), in which he drew on the example of the great Biblical Joseph and his struggle to deny the temptation presented by his master’s wife.

As told in the Torah, Joseph steadfastly denied her advances until one day when he broke down and entered her home, intent on fulfilling his desire. The Talmud tells us that moments before succumbing to her embrace, Joseph was seized by a vision of his father, which impelled him to break from temptation and flee.16

Upon deeper inspection,17 this story becomes emblematic of the world-shaping power of each individual and their choices.

As recounted in Genesis, Joseph’s life as a young man had been violently disrupted. Ambushed and sold into slavery by his own envious brothers, Joseph was taken by slave traders to Egypt, where he was purchased by Potiphar, one of Pharaoh’s senior ministers. Over time, Potiphar became so impressed by the young man’s intelligence that he appointed Joseph to manage his entire estate. Described in the Torah as uniquely handsome, Joseph had also captured the attention of Potiphar’s wife, who tormented Joseph by insistently and relentlessly inviting him to her bed.

As the Talmud describes:

“Each day, Potiphar’s wife would attempt to seduce him. Clothes she wore for him in the morning she would not wear for him in the evening…

“She said, ‘Surrender yourself to me.’

“‘No,’ he said.

“She threatened him, ‘I shall confine you in prison…I shall subdue your proud stature…I will blind your eyes.’

“Joseph refused, nonetheless, saying, ‘...How then can I do this great wickedness and sin against G‑d?’

“Despite her threats, Joseph reminded her: ‘I am afraid of the Holy One, Blessed Be He.’

“To which she replied, ‘But He is not here.’”

Imagine the weight, the temptation to despair, represented by those ominous words. Undoubtedly, there must have been days in Joseph’s grueling, lonely existence when he felt truly forsaken. He was little more than an adolescent, with no friends or relatives nearby, no meaningful connections from which to draw hope, support, or comfort. His mother had passed when he was just eight years old, and his beloved father Jacob believed him dead. His jealous, hateful brothers had sold him into bondage, utterly extinguishing his youth. A slave in an alien land and culture, Joseph had been stripped of his very selfhood, forced to withstand a never-ending series of degradations. And though he may have secured favor and status in the eyes of his master, all his true sources of meaning—what made him matter—were gone. His mother, father, family, home, community, sovereignty, and safety had all been taken from him. And just as he had begun to receive dignified status from his master as overseer of his estate, Joseph’s refusal of his master’s wife threatened to rob him of everything else.

Why, then, would a desolate, lonely slave risk what was left of his life in response to the vision of his father’s visage? How, in a world that was cruelly indifferent to his suffering, could the mere image of his father encourage Joseph to deny himself a moment of pleasure, comfort, and safety from the constant threats of his master’s wife?

The answer emerges from a Talmudic passage, which says, “The beauty of Jacob reflected the beauty of Adam.”18

According to the Rebbe’s rendering, when Joseph saw the visage of Jacob, he saw the face of Adam as well, which reminded him of Adam’s cataclysmic act of eating from the forbidden tree. Joseph recalled how one person, in one moment, with a single, seemingly inconsequential decision to eat from the Tree of Knowledge, forever changed the history of all humankind because, as the Rebbe observed, “…Every single human being is part of the knot in which heaven and earth are interlaced.”

Standing in this holy recognition—shocked into the rhythm of his true, universal importance—Joseph was reinvigorated by a sudden, unassailable nobility and strength. He was lifted from the mire of his own powerlessness the moment he reclaimed the conviction that, like Adam, he played a crucial role in the redemption of humanity and the evolving history of the world at large.

This seemingly insignificant choice set off a series of events by which Joseph would become viceroy of Egypt, save the ancient world from famine, and leverage his new status to relocate and reunite his family in a bountiful settlement in Egypt. This series of events, in turn, served as the backdrop for the birth of the people of Israel and their great Exodus from Egypt to the Promised Land.

Like Joseph, we each experience periods of life when we feel alone, betrayed, belittled, powerless, and separated from our support systems. We may have experienced great loss, been rendered hopeless, and perhaps tempted to think, “But He is not here!” In those moments when we feel like we don’t matter, and hence our actions don’t matter—precisely in those moments—we must remember that every action, whether we realize it or not, has the power to shape the great wholeness of which we are always a part.