Peaceful Tranquility
By
Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz
At times, people feel that they are stuck in a rut. They are lacking money or something else they feel they need and deserve. They are unable to overcome the gaping feeling that life has wronged them and therefore become anxious and depressed. They are overwhelmed by feelings of emptiness and suffering.
At times, people feel that they are stuck in a rut. They are lacking money or something else they feel they need and deserve. They are unable to overcome the gaping feeling that life has wronged them and therefore become anxious and depressed. They are overwhelmed by feelings of emptiness and suffering.
Rav
Elimelech Biderman recently told the story of Reb
Nisson Shtitzberg. One of his daughters married a fine young man. In the middle
of sheva brachos, tragedy struck and
the chosson suddenly died. Imagine
the sadness that gripped the kallah
and both families. The great simcha
was turned into tremendous sadness.
Not only that, but they found out that
the new wife would be an agunah for
the next eight years, as the chosson’s
only brother was but a five-year-old lad. He wouldn’t be able to partake in chalitzah, which would enable the poor kallah to remarry, for another eight
years, when he would become a bar mitzvah.
Reb Nisson was a chossid of the Yesod
Ha’avodah. In utter dejection, he turned to the rebbe to find out what they had done to deserve such a tragic
situation.
The rebbe
said to him, “Look at what is
happening and you will realize that it was decreed in Heaven that your daughter
wouldn’t have children until eight years from now. Now, if this would not have
happened, she would not have gotten engaged until now. You would have spent
your days and nights trying to find a shidduch
for her, and rightfully so. As time went on, without success, you would have
undertaken various segulos, davened like you never had before, and
begged any rusty shadchan to come up
with someone normal for your daughter.
“And what would people say? They’d no
doubt say that your daughter hasn’t found a shidduch
yet because there must be something wrong with her. You would have been going
through torture until finally finding her zivug
after eight aggravating years.
“Hashem had mercy on you and saved you
from all that. In eight years, the brother will come of age and she will perform
chalitzah. She will then immediately
marry and give birth to a beautiful family, all in the preordained time.”
One who trusts in Hashem knows that
whatever happens to him is for the good and is brought on by Hashem. We don’t
always understand what has befallen us or why. Sometimes it can take years
until the reason becomes evident. Sometimes it becomes clear sooner and other
times we never figure it out.
We
read in this week’s parsha (18:10)
how Hashem appeared to Avrohom and told him that he and his wife would be
giving birth to a son who would be their heir and carry their mission forward.
Why did Avrohom Avinu not rush to tell his wife that Hashem promised that they
would have a son? The elderly couple had unsuccessfully sought a child for many
years. How could Avrohom not share the great news with his wife?
Avrohom
and Sorah had worked to bring Hashem’s message of G-dliness to the world. They
set out on their path alone, and were successful in drawing many followers,
until they had a wave of maaminim
following them.
They
were blessed with much wealth and fame, and had everything a couple could
desire, except for a child. When Avrohom Avinu found out that he and Sorah
would soon have a son, he kept the promise from his wife. Wouldn’t you imagine
that this was the happiest moment in his life? How could he not tell her that their
prayers have been answered and she would soon be a mother?
The Ramban (Bereishis 18:15) writes that Avrohom waited for Hashem to let Sorah
know the good news. Sorah actually found out the wonderful news from the malachim.
He
suggests, as well, that Avrohom was preoccupied with performing the mitzvah of milah on himself and his household as he had been commanded and
didn’t have the time to tell Sorah. When he finished fulfilling Hashem’s
commandment regarding milah, he was
weak and sat at the entrance of his tent to recuperate. Before he had a chance
to get back to himself and tell Sorah, the malochim
came and told her themselves.
Even
after studying the words of the Ramban,
the question still bothered me. How can it be that Avrohom didn’t run to tell
his wife that the one thing they were lacking in their lives would be granted
to them? Wouldn’t doing so bring much happiness to his wife? How could he
postpone bringing her that joy?
Perhaps
the question is based on a mistaken premise. A believer knows that everything
that happens to him in life is for the good. A person who lives with bitachon understands that Hashem’s
purpose in creation is to bring about goodness and kindness.
We
don’t always understand what is going on, but we know that there is a greater
purpose for what is happening. Nothing that happens is haphazard and nothing
happens by itself.
People
want children because they have been conditioned to expect to give birth to a
child. Children bring joy, enrichment, and meaning into your life.
But,
in fact, we are all here because Hashem willed it so. Everything we have - or
don’t have - is because Hashem willed it to be that way. We all have a mission
in life. We are given what we need to be able to fulfill our mission.
Some
people need a large home in order to accomplish their shlichus, while some don’t. Some need a nice car, while for others
a small jalopy suffices. Some people need a lot of money in order to carry out
their mission, while some can be most successful in their shlichus without a dime in their pockets.
A maamin and baal bitachon doesn’t look at what other people have and complain
about why he is lacking in those blessings. He knows that Hashem chose this
situation for him. He is not jealous of others and does not view himself as
lacking in anything. He is happy with what he has, because he knows that his
loving Father provides for him what he needs.
He is
never jealous of other people, asking, “How come they have what I don’t have?” A
familiar refrain is that life is unfair. Why don’t I have all that I want, just
like the person across the street? Why is he so smart, yet as hard as I try, I
can’t remember a thing I learn? Why does he always find the bargains, while I
pay full price for everything? Why do their kids dress in designer clothes,
while mine make do with end-of-season sale items?
So many
of our complaints are brought on by jealousy.
Rav Yecheskel Sarna, the Chevron rosh yeshiva told the Chazon Ish that during the Second World War
some rabbis had a debate. A certain tyrant who persecuted Jews died. The
question was, should they be happy now that he was gone, or should they worry
that perhaps his replacement would be even worse.
The Chazon Ish told him that “they
could have simultaneously celebrated his departure and worried about the
future. It is possible to be happy and apprehensive at the same time.”
He proved his point. “Yirmiyohu Hanovi
wrote Megillas Eicha, a mournful
dirge of tragedy. We know that he wrote it with ruach hakodesh, and we also know that in order to merit ruach hakodesh, you have to be besimcha.
“You see that it is possible to mourn
and weep over the destroyed beis
hamikdosh and to be besimcha at
the same time.”
The depth of his message is that while
a person is suffering from a calamity or loss, the knowledge that it did not
happen by itself, but rather was orchestrated by the Creator for a higher
purpose, is comforting and allows the person to be content.
People
who trust in Hashem know that He oversees all. As the Gemara states (Chulin 7b),
“a person doesn’t even get a small wound on a finger without it being decided so
by Heaven.” If a person receives a setback of any kind, he should know that it
didn’t happen by itself, but was decreed by Hashem.
The
Ribnitzer Rebbe was walking with Rav Eliyohu Tabak, when the elderly rebbe tripped and fell. Rav Eliyohu
rushed to lift the rebbe off the
ground. The Ribnitzer told him to wait. “Eliyohu, before I get up, I have to
make a cheshbon hanefesh. If I don’t
know why I fell, I will fall again.” The rebbe
remained on the floor for a minute before allowing Rabbi Tabak to raise him.
People
who live with emunah are that way.
When something doesn’t go their way, they try to figure out why. They search
their souls to find what is lacking and they seek to rectify it. Otherwise,
they understand that Hashem brought it upon them for reasons they do not know. They
accept it and move on.
Avrohom
and Sorah were maaminim. They
understood that Hashem did what was best for them. Before they had a child,
they were not overcome with grief. They didn’t view their lives as lacking.
They viewed their lives as full and blessed. They perceived their mission to be
bringing the knowledge of Hashem to the world. If they didn’t have a child,
then apparently Hashem felt they didn’t need one. Their good acts would live on
some other way. They would attain joy, happiness and fulfillment without giving
birth to children together.
Since
they didn’t view the lack of a child as a tragedy, when Avrohom heard from
Hashem that he and his wife would be giving birth to a son who would be their
heir and carry on their mission, he didn’t feel the need to rush and tell his
wife.
In
last week’s parsha (15:4-5), Hashem
told Avrohom, “Ki im asher yeitzei mimei’echa hu yiroshecha -
The one you give birth to will be your
heir.” The posuk says that Hashem
took Avrohom outside and told him, “Look up to the sky and count the stars. If
you are able to count them, so will you be able to count your children,” for
they will be so plentiful that it will be impossible to count them.
The posuk then states (ibid. 6), “Vehe’emin baHashem
vayachsheveha lo tzedakah,” Avrohom trusted Hashem and Hashem looked upon
Avrohom’s faith favorably.
What
was the big deal about the fact that Avrohom trusted the promise of Hashem? And
why did Hashem consider it a major act? If Hashem appeared to anyone, wouldn’t that
person trust Him to keep His word?
If we
continue with our line of reasoning, we can answer that the big deal was that
Avrohom was the paradigm believer in Hashem. He believed in Hashem when he
didn’t have a son as much as he believed after he was promised the son and
multitudes of offspring.
As
such, when Hashem promised that he and Sorah would give birth to a child who
would continue their mission, Avrohom was not so overjoyed as to interrupt the mitzvah he was doing in order to tell Sorah.
This
is what the Ramban means when he says
that Avrohom was occupied with carrying out Hashem’s commandment regarding milah. Avrohom was fulfilling his
mission of following Hashem’s word. That is what his life was all about. He was
the consummate servant of Hashem, whether he had a child or not, so his first
obligation was to finish doing what Hashem asked him to do. Sorah wouldn’t
expect anything different.
We
tend to plug our emotions, perspectives and reactions into stories of the avos. Thus, we have questions. We
understand the burning desire for a child, the ache of loneliness, and the
frustration of unanswered tefillos.
But
there is a level beyond ours, the level of tzaddikim.
Yes, a child is a hemshech, a
continuation of all man’s accomplishments, and a means of ensuring that the
chain goes on. A child affords us the
mitzvah of chinuch, the joy and
fulfillment of seeing a new generation growing in Torah and avodah, and the nachas of transmitting eternal values. But there is a backdrop to
all this: The only reality that counts and exists is that which Hashem desires.
To us,
a husband and wife longing and yearning for something for so many years and
then receiving it is a happy story. To tzaddikim,
before they are answered, it is viewed as the ratzon Hashem, and after they are answered, it remains the
same ratzon Hashem.
To
Avrohom Avinu and Sorah Imeinu, the desire for a child was in the context of
that reality. Since Hashem hadn’t
blessed them with a child, they were content. They existed serenely within that
reality. The news that they would have a child meant, in their terms, that the ratzon Hashem now was different than it
had been before.
Their lives
had been in concert with Hashem’s will all along, and so would it continue.
Similarly,
the nisayon of the Akeidah was a test of Avrohom’s bitachon. Now that he had been blessed
with a son, were he to learn that it was the will of Hashem for him to return
that gift, would he happily comply with Hashem’s wish or would he question the
command?
The posuk (Bereishis 22:3) relates that Avrohom passed the test. “Vayashkeim Avrohom baboker.” Without
delay, he hurried to fulfill Hashem’s wish. He had wanted a son in order to
perform his shlichus in this world.
If Hashem wanted him to have a son, he was thrilled, and if Hashem did not wish
for him to have a son any longer, then he would rush to fulfill the will of
Hashem, fully accepting the decision.
The Chazon Ish wrote poetically, “Ein kol etzev ba’olam lemi shemakir ohr ha’oros shel ha’emes. There is no despair
in the world for one who perceives the light of lights of the truth.” Rav
Yitzchok Hutner pointed out that the Chazon
Ish, who was childless and experienced the same struggle as the avos, was expressing that there exists
an “ohr,” a light, of ratzon Hashem that is more obvious.
There is also an “ohr ha’oros,” a
less obvious but deeper light, that of amitas
retzono Yisborach. For those who perceive the deep light of Hashem, there
is no depression, for they recognize the truth that all that transpires is for
the greater good.
On Shabbos, we do not wish a sick person refuah
sheleimah. Instead, Chazal tells
us, we say, “Shabbos hi milizok.” On Shabbos, we don’t cry out in pain.
Perhaps
we can understand that pain and pity are appropriate when one is somewhat
removed from the ohr ha’oros. On Shabbos Kodesh, our proximity to the Borei Olam makes such reactions
inappropriate. Shabbos is the day
when the ohr of sheishes yemei bereishes shines through and we appreciate that if
things are a certain way, it is because that is what Hashem wants. During the yemei hama’aseh, things are less clear,
and we cry, but on Shabbos, when the
light is evident, we refrain from sadness.
On Shabbos, as well, we do not engage in
obvious acts of mourning. On the six days of the week, we cry over the passing
of loved ones. When Shabbos arrives,
there is no sadness. On Shabbos, we
proclaim that the world was created by the Creator. We receive a neshomah yeseirah, which allows us to
comprehend concepts that we can’t understand during the week. On this day, we
do not mourn or engage in sadness, for we recognize that Hashem created the
world to do good and all that transpires is for the good.
It’s
all ratzon Hashem.
Such
is the way of the avos, tzaddikim and maaminim, and that is the way we should try to live our lives.
We see
treachery and evil rising. We see morality under attack, as laws that promote deviancy
are enacted. We see dishonest people prosper and corruption entrench itself.
Our
personal lives are tumultuous. Life is not going as planned. Everyone has a
share of heartache and problems. We wonder why we have to work so hard and why we
can’t attain our goals with less aggravation. It takes so much money to make
ends meet. We can’t take the constant pressure to stay above water. There are
so many things we wish were different. Should we be overcome with sadness?
Should we give up? Should we feel alone and forlorn?
We
have to do our best to live besimcha.
We have to recognize that what happens is His will and ratzon hatov leheitiv. We should have no doubt that what happens is
good and is the right thing for us, whether or not we easily understand it. We
must know that those who see the ohr
ha’oros recognize the good nature of everything that transpires. We have to
do our best to rise to that level.
The
connection to the Ribbono Shel Olam
means that we know that He who created us and gives us life also knows what we
need. At times, we wish for things to be different, for a lack to be filled, or
for a situation to be changed.
So we daven and hope, but always with the
confidence that He knows how things ought to be. Avrohom Avinu prayed for the
people of Sedom, pleading for Heavenly mercy on their behalf. He was turned
down. How did he respond? The posuk
says that Avrohom returned the next morning “el hamakom asher omad shom es
pnei Hashem” (Bereishis 19:27).
He went back to the same “place,” with the very same submission, humility and
faith with which he had offered his tefillos
and been turned down the day before.
“Yes”
and “no” are but two expressions of the same ratzon. They are thus not different. As Hashem’s children, we have the
ability and unique attitude to recognize that everything is from Hashem. So ein kol etzev. We don’t become dejected.
We continue to hope, certain that one day, may it be very soon, we will rejoice
when it all becomes clear just how good it has been all along.
What
seems to us as reality is only a façade. One who seems blessed may in fact be
cursed. One who seems poor may actually be blessed.
Let us
learn from Avrohom and Sorah to look at the world properly, envisioning things
as maaminim and baalei bitachon.
Let us live with faith and confidence,
recognizing that we have a calling and mission in life. Let us do what can to
accomplish our goals without jealousy or sadness. Let us concentrate on our own
lives, on our own improvement, on what we must do to achieve happiness and
wholesomeness. Let us take the steps which will enable us to attain the
peaceful tranquility we all yearn for.
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