Have a Heart

Excerpted from The Inside Story

Moses returned to G-d and said: “My L-rd! Why have You Dealt ill with this nation? Why did You send me? For since I came to Pharaoh to speak in Your name, he has done evil to this nation; neither have You saved Your people.”

And G-d said to Moses: “Now you shall see what I shall do to Pharaoh. For by [the force of My] strong hand he shall drive them from his land.”

And G-d spoke to Moses and said to him: “I am G-d. I revealed Myself to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob . . .

Say to the Children of Israel: ‘I am G-d. I will take you out from the sufferings of Egypt and I will deliver you from their bondage . . . I will acquire you as My people and I will be to you a
G-d . . .’”

Exodus 5:22-23

Moses’ cry reverberates throughout the next hundred generations of our blood and tear-soaked history: Why, G-d, why? Why have You dealt ill with Your people? It resounds as a universal cry for all suffering in G-d’s world: Why, G-d, must the human story contain so much cruelty and anguish? Surely You, the very essence of good, could have created a world free of evil, strife and pain?

G-d says many things in response to Moses’ question, but none of them seems to address the burning issue which lies at its heart. He repeats His promise that things will get better. He explains that Israel’s sufferings in Egypt are the birth pangs of their glorious future as G-d’s people. But surely Moses did not doubt G-d’s promises. The crux of his question was, why? Why must it be this way? Why can’t we achieve all these great things without the terrible preliminaries?

The Talmud explains that G-d’s response to Moses’ challenge lies in the words “I have revealed Myself to Abraham, to Isaac and to Jacob. . . .” Why is G-d evoking the memory of the Patriarchs? Says the Talmud:

G-d said to Moses: I regret the loss of those who have passed away and are no longer found. Many times I revealed Myself to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. They did not question My ways. . . . I said to Abraham, “Arise, walk the land in its length and breadth, for I shall give it to you,”1 [but] he searched for a plot to bury Sarah and did not find one until he purchased it for 400 silver shekels.2 Nevertheless, he did not question My ways. I said to Isaac, “Dwell in this land, and I will be with you and bless you [for to you, and to your descendants, I shall give all these lands],”3 [but] his servants searched for some water to drink and did not get it without a fight4. . . Nevertheless, he did not question My ways. I said to Jacob, “The land upon which you lie, I shall give to you and to your descendants,”5 [but] he searched for a place to pitch his tent and did not find one until he purchased it for one hundred k’sita.6 Nevertheless, he did not question My ways . . .7

Why, indeed, this difference between the Patriarchs and Moses? Did they have greater faith in G-d? Did they know something he did not? Did they care less?

Teacher and Father

It was through Moses that G-d communicated the Torah, the divine wisdom that is the essence of all knowledge. He was the one human being empowered to fathom the mind of G-d and teach it to humanity.

On the other hand, the focal point of the Patriarchs’ lives was of a more “emotional” nature. “Abraham, why loves Me,”8 is how G-d refers to the first Jew. Isaac exemplified the fear and awe of G-d, while Jacob represents the emotional integrity that is achieved through the integration of the love of Abraham and the fear of Isaac.9 The Patriarchs studied and disseminated the wisdom of Torah,10 and Moses certainly loved and feared G-d; but insofar as their primary roles in the development of the Jewish people are concerned, Moses is the mind of Israel, while Abraham, Isaac and Jacob are the “heart” of our relationship with the Almighty.11

The mind has explanations for everything. Then it questions these explanations. The mind can come to appreciate the “reasons” for G-d’s creation of evil and grief. It can come to understand that suffering refines the human being, teaching him compassion and sensitivity; that there is no greater satisfaction that the overcoming of adversity and no greater pleasure than the conquest of pain; that a person’s finest and most potent abilities are unleashed only under conditions of challenge and trial; that without a free choice between good and evil, nothing we could possibly be of any significance.

The mind can understand all this, question it, and find answers for its questions. But then comes the ultimate question: Why must it be this way? These are all rational explanations, based on our understanding of human and universal nature. But You, the creator of nature and logic, are Certainly not bound by its laws. You can make significant what logic dictates is of no significance. You could have ordered reality so that there is gain without pain, so that the best in us could be realized without the threat and challenge of evil, so that the highest peaks of life could be scaled without the momentum of its lowest descents. Thus, the mind of the believer will never accept the “necessity” for evil and pain.

The heart, of course, also perceives the pain—indeed, it senses it more deeply than the aloofly objective mind. But writhing in its dual columns of yes and no, the heart tolerates contradiction. Can you “prove” to a mother that her child is undeserving of her love? It’s not that she is blind to his deficiencies and sins—it’s that they are simply irrelevant to her love. Outrage and devotion, judgement and acceptance, pain and pleasure—a heart that loves has room for them all, simultaneously, in its warm embrace.

Moses, said G-d, you are the mind of My people. The mind that is the instrument for grasping My truth, and, with it, illuminating the world. As such, you question My creation of evil and suffering, and can find no logically satisfying answer. But you, too, are a child of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. You, too, have inherited from them the Jewish heart—the intrinsic bond with your G-d that cannot be shaken by the most terrible of contradictions.

The Paradox

Does this mean that it was a lack of faith on the part of Moses to confront G-d over His treatment of His people? Is that was G-d wants from us—a blind acceptance of whatever He sends our way?

Here, we find G-d rebuking Moses to employ the unquestioning faith of the Patriarchs. And yet, on other occasions, we find G-d doing the very opposite—encouraging Moses to challenge His decrees.

When Israel sinned with the Golden Calf, G-d told Moses: “Now, let Me alone; My wrath shall flare against them and I will destroy them.”12 Asks the Midrash: Moses had yet to utter a word in defense of Israel, so why does G-d say to him, “How, let Me alone?” the Midrash explains: G-d was telling Moses: If you let Me alone, I shall proceed with My intended plans. But if you interfere and protest, I shall heed your cries and retract My decree.13

In recording both these “confrontations” with Moses in His Torah, G-d is telling us to employ both the challenging mind and the accepting heart in our relationship with Him. He is telling us that the mind’s most searching questions must never affect the unequivocal bond of love that is the essence of our relationship. But He is also telling us that the heart’s acceptance must never silence our prayers and protests, “Why, G-d, have You dealt ill with Your people?!”; and that these challenges can, and do, make a difference.

The heart aches, the mind explains; the mind questions, the heart accepts. Both live in the paradox of faith and challenge: one the one hand, King David’s affirmation that “G-d is just in all His ways and benevolent in all His deeds,”14 and on the other, Isaiah’s vow: “On15 your walls, O Jerusalem, I have set watchmen, who shall never hold their peace, day or night you that evoke the mention of G-d, take no rest, and give Him no rest, till He stablishes till He makes Jerusalem a praise in the earth . . .”16

Republished with permission of The Meaningful Life Center. Meaningfullife.com

 

Endnotes:

  1. Genesis 13:17.
  2. Ibid., ch. 23.
  3. Ibid., 26:3.
  4. Ibid., 26:20.
  5. Ibid., 28:13.
  6. Ibid., 33:19.
  7. Talmud, Sanhedrin 111a.
  8. Isaiah 41:8.
  9. In Jacob’s own words, “the G-d of Abraham and the awe of Isaac were to me” (Genesis 31:42). See Redigging the Wells of Love 42–47.
  10. Talmud, Yoma 28b; Midrash Rabbah, Bereishit 61:1; Mishneh Torah, Laws Concerning Idol Worship, 1:3.
  11. Thus, to this day we refer to Moses as Moshe Rabbeinu (“Moses our Teacher”) and to the Patriarchs as Avraham Avinu (“Abraham our Father”), (“Abraham our Father”), Yitzchak Avinu, etc.

In the terminology of Kabbalah, the soul of Moses stems from the Divine attribute of chochmah (“wisdom”), and those of the three Patriarchs from chessed (“benevolence”), gevurah (“severity”) and tiferet (“harmony”) respectively.

  1. Exodus 32:10.
  2. Midrash Rabbah on verse.
  3. Psalms 145:17.
  4. Isaiah 62:6–7.
  5. Based on the Rebbe’s talks, Shabbat Va’eira 5722 (January 6, 1962) and on numerous other occasions. Likkutei Sichot, vol. III p. 854–862, et al.