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B A LT I M O R E J E W I S H H O M E . C O M
THE BALTIMORE JEWISH HOME
NOVEMBER 30, 2017
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OCTOBER 29, 2015 | The Jewish Home
Another L
k
Practically Speaking By Rabbi YY Rubinstein
A
few weeks ago I was speaking at a Shabbaton. My host was the rabbi of a large shul of committed Torah Jews and in his introduction he told a story that had just happened. A woman had come to see him with a problematic shayla. Her daughter was scheduled to go out with a boy. It was a perfect match. She already knew the “other side” a little and liked and respected the parents. She and her husband were very excited and hopeful that it would all work out. There was only one cloud on her horizon and that is what she had come to discuss with the rabbi. This woman’s family possessed a secret. She described what the problem was explaining that she was scared that if it becomes known, the shidduch would be “dead in the water”. Did her daughter have to share it with her potential husband? The rabbi listened and then replied, “Tell me, Mrs. Cohen, how long have you known me and my wife?” The answer came back that they had been acquainted since the daughter had been born, some nineteen years before. “I think my wife and I know you really very well,” the rabbi went on, “And in all that time we have always been impressed with your emunah and bitachon.” The lady smiled. “I recall when we running out of funds to finish building the mikvah, it
was you who were mechazek the committee and reminded us that Hashem has an infinite amount of funds and we shouldn’t ever consider throwing in the towel.” The lady looked a little embarrassed at such praise, as the Rabbi recalled other occasions she had reminded people not to give up and that b’ezras Hashem or im yertzei Hashem, a solution would be found. At this stage the lady was smiling broadly now, and then the rabbi asked her, “Tell me Mrs. Cohen, can I just ask...do you actually believe in G-d?” Her smile instantly disappeared. “What do you mean?” she demanded. The rabbi went on to point out that if this shidduch is the one Hashem has in mind, then even if the issue that concerned her was revealed, then nothing will stop it from going ahead. If this was not her daughter’s bashert, then no matter how much she and her husband wanted the boy and his family, it would not succeed. The lady shook her head in disbelief at what she was hearing. “But you don’t understand!” she replied, “If this thing gets out, no one will marry my daughter or any of our other children either!” The rabbi simply repeated what he had said before pointing out that the same went for all her other children too and gently posed the same question, “So tell me, even though you
always say, ‘b’ezras Hashem’ or ‘im yertzei Hashem’...do you really believe in G-d?” This proved too much for the lady who became quite indignant, looked at the rabbi with frustration and anger, and told him, “Of course I believe in G-d, Rabbi...but you have to be practical!” This answer elicited smiles and laughter from the people in the shul listening to the rabbi’s story, including me. I thought that the reason we all found the story so amusing was because it was so familiar. Not that we had heard others saying it before; we had heard ourselves saying it before... often many times. One of the most challenging words that Rabbi Dessler, zt”l, writes appear in page 126 of the fifth volume of Michtav MiEliyohu: “It is profoundly difficult to realize the truth about ourselves. Much of who and what we truly are lies hidden in the depth of our beings. It is possible for a person to live his entire life without discovering their real nature unless they experience some truly dramatic event that brings it to the surface.” Confronted with her fear over her children’s futures and with her maternal instincts in overdrive, an uncomfortable revelation in self-discovery emerged. For this woman, and for so many of us, “b’ezras Hashem” or “im yertzei Hashem” are secondary
to that other phrase, “But you have to be practical!” Being practical in this sense, of course, means relying on your own plans, effort and strategies, which the Torah and Chazal repeatedly condemn as being an expression of another phrase, “Kochi v’otzem yadi, My strength and the might of my hand.” Giving up your confidence in your ability to arrange things and produce the outcome you desire is hard work. Sometimes it is the hard work of an entire lifetime. It might even be that we spend our time on this world completely unaware that our belief and trust in Hashem is, in fact, very weak or even absent altogether. I recall many year ago going to see Reb Matisyahu Salomon, shlita, in Lakewood. Something had gone very wrong with my plans and I was upset and very worried. More than the problem itself, though, was a creeping awareness of my reaction to it. That was what I had come to discuss with the Mashgiach. “I think I am a baal bitachon,” I told him. “But if that is so, why am I so upset and so worried?” I looked at Reb Matisyahu and confessed, “I feel like a complete phony.” A small smile appeared on his lips as he replied, “Perhaps you are a phony!” In Michtav MiEliyohu, Volume 1, page 180, Rabbi Dessler discusses various levels of those who believe