Boulder Aish Kodesh

Rebbe Nachman writes concerning ‘all difficulties and suffering, everything bad that happens to every person, G-d forbid, when one looks toward the ultimate goal, they are certainly not bad at all!  Rather they are of great benefit!  For certainly all suffering that comes upon a person is intended by G-d for his benefit…’

This is particularly interesting in terms of what is written in Gemarra Shabbat 55a in the name of Rebbe Ami: There is no suffering without iniquity…

Rebbe Nachman’s comment can then be interpreted to read: all suffering, even the suffering that comes from your own iniquities, is intended by G-d for your own good.

This can confuse us deeply – Hashem wanted me to do something wrong?  We might even ask: Hashem made me do something wrong?  After all, it is written in Gemarra Avodah Zarah 4a/b that the Jews were not fitting to do that act [the making and worshipping of the golden calf] except to teach the possibility of the entire public returning to G-d.

And you might even say: After all, ‘everything is in the hands of heaven except fear of heaven (Brachot 32b)’.

When that undesirable aspect of us comes to light – in a moment when we let down our guard – it comes to teach us about ourselves and how we need to proceed in order to not damage ourselves and the world.

This is true, but can lead a person down an unnecessarily dangerous path: it sounds like permission to release whatever urges are inside of us, because it will inevitably be for the good!  But this attitude is forbidden: as the Mishnah in Yoma, page 85b says, ‘one who says I will sin, and then repent, and then sin, and then repent, that person is not afforded the opportunity to repent.’

We are faced with a deep difficulty: we have within us urges whose conscious expression is forbidden – like stealing or eating unkosher food – but if they do come out, then it is for our benefit.  What are we to do?

Another manifestation of this paradox is as follows:  Almost inevitably, tragedies lead to deep healing and reconciliation. Families are often brought together at funerals, muttering to each other, ‘life is so short.  Why do we fight?’  It is rumored that, during the Gulf War, religious and non-religious Israelis were able to overcome their differences.

Similarly, absence makes the heart grow fonder, you don’t know what you got ‘til it’s gone, etc. etc.

Why is this true?  Why do we not learn about ourselves until we blunder?  Why do families need funerals to reunite?  Is it only absence that makes the heart grow fonder?

The Parsha offers us another way.  G-d says, ‘I have brought heaven and earth to testify before you today, I have placed before you life and death, blessing and curse…  you shall choose life, in order that you and your progeny shall live (Devarim 30:19)…’

As we have written, death is quite useful!  After all, ‘and behold it was very good’: what does it mean very good?  This is the angel of death¹!  Death is a guarantor of change and growth, but it is not the only path toward change and growth.  Life is also a viable option.

We do not have to wait for funerals to bring our families together.  We do not have to sin in order to learn hard lessons.  For the pain of death and sin and brokenness does not subside when the lesson is learned.  The lesson is learned amid scars of broken relationships, loss, and tears.

Choose life – the lessons we need to learn need to be learned one way or another.  But G-d tells us that we have a choice before us –we can learn it through death and pain and distance, and we can learn it through life and love and approach.