Rabbi Yossi Kahanov Shliach to Jacksonville, FL
Rabbi Shimon of Yaroslav lived to a ripe old age. When asked what the secret of his longevity was, he would respond in jest: “When a person is in the habit of complaining about the injustices of life and G-d’s mismanagement of the universe, he is called back to heaven where he is shown the overall scheme of things – how G-d is indeed just and kind. Since I always accept Divine judgment there was never a need to call me back to heaven. Thus my long life.”
The story is told about a student of the renowned Magid of Mezritch who complained that he cannot, for the life of him, comprehend the Talmudic statement that one is obligated to bless G-d for the bad in his life, as he is inclined to do over the good.

The Weekly Sedra – Chayei Sara – It’s All Good

Rabbi Yossi Kahanov Shliach to Jacksonville, FL

Rabbi Shimon of Yaroslav lived to a ripe old age. When asked what the secret of his longevity was, he would respond in jest: “When a person is in the habit of complaining about the injustices of life and G-d’s mismanagement of the universe, he is called back to heaven where he is shown the overall scheme of things – how G-d is indeed just and kind. Since I always accept Divine judgment there was never a need to call me back to heaven. Thus my long life.”

The story is told about a student of the renowned Magid of Mezritch who complained that he cannot, for the life of him, comprehend the Talmudic statement that one is obligated to bless G-d for the bad in his life, as he is inclined to do over the good.

The student, who was new to the teachings of the Magid, argued that it was simply contrary to human nature to be thankful for adversity and misfortune. “Had we been asked to accept our fate – good or bad – this I could grasp, albeit with some difficulty. But to be grateful? And more even, to be as thankful for our tzores as we are for our blessings and good fortune? This is entirely inconceivable.”

“My son,” said the Magid – Reb DovBer, “if you really wish to know the answer to this quandary, you must seek out a certain disciple of mine, by the name of Reb Zusha of Anipoli.”

Not wasting any time, the young Chassid set out for Anipoli. Even before he entered Reb Zusha’s residence he was able to detect the poverty and destitution. The house was little more than a wooden shack located at the very outskirts of an impoverished looking village.

Once he entered the residence, any lingering doubt was gone. From the leaky roof, to the ragged clothing, to the meager and rickety furnishings, the prevailing scarcity was just about obvious. There was not even an attempt to mask it. Reb Zusha’s haggard complexion only bore further witness to his difficult life.

In just a short while the guest was able to piece it all together. Yes there was hunger, and there was poverty, and illness, and . . . but the man was uncharacteristically pleasant and good-humored, always thanking the Almighty for all His kindness and protection.

“No wonder the master sent me here,” thought the visitor to himself. “This man is the embodiment of what it means to bless the Almighty for the bad in the same manner as for the good. He can certainly teach me the answer to this perplexing phenomenon.”

When the opportunity arose, he said to his host: “I must ask you a question. In fact, this is the entire purpose for my visit.” “Please, do not hesitate,” said the host, with a friendly and encouraging smile.
“I was wondering how it is possible to bless the Lord for the bad. . . I can see why the Magid sent me to you for the answer. . . Please tell me the secret.”

“Your question is a good one,” said Reb Zusha, “but did you say the Rebbe sent you here for an answer? I can’t imagine why that would be. I really know very little about this subject. Truth be told, I have never suffered a day in my life! So how would I know?”

While the idea that “Life is all good” may sound like a page out of our nations carefree era of the 60’s, when the pot smoking, anti-establishment, hippy movement was the way of the land, that’s not the case at all. Its origin is actually a page out of the holy Bible – a page out of this week’s Torah portion, among others.

Our Parsha opens with the passing of the matriarch Sarah. The very first verse states: “Sarah’s lifetime was one hundred years, twenty years, and seven years; [these were] the years of Sarah’s life.”

Rashi – troubled by the repetition of the word years – explains that Sarah’s life was divided into three unique periods that were “all equal in goodness.” This is to say that each of the three periods shared a worthy characteristic of its neighbor: At the old age of one hundred she was still sinless as a twenty-year-old, and at the sinless age of twenty, she maintained the innocent beauty of a seven-year-old.

The commentaries, in their renowned homiletical style, perceive here an additional tribute to Sarah. Based on Rashi’s phraseology – “all [her years] were equal for good,” they extrapolate that all her years; both the happy and the sad, were recognized by her as equally good.

Now, let’s not kid ourselves, Sarah’s life was not a box of chocolate. She clearly had her share of tzores. Upon G-d’s command, she and Abraham left their entire past behind – including all their family, to start life all over; they suffered through famine and exile; she lived the majority of her years dogged by childlessness; and she was a veteran of two hostage takings – once by Pharaoh the other by Abemalach; hardly a honeymoon by any account.

Nevertheless, she accepted everything in her life as being from G-d and thus good – even that which was outwardly negative and adverse – “They were all equal for good.”

Judaism maintains that our trials and tribulations serve to optimize our soul’s inherent potential, bequeathing us with an enormous windfall – the profit exacted from a challenger turned ally. Like a dammed river that bursts through its fortified barrier, a mighty force lurks within each challenge, waiting to be unleashed.

To use a more contemporary analogy, when man desired to fly, there were two options; to construct a vehicle that is lighter than air, or to use the air’s resistance to his advantage. In the end the latter proved more successful. As it turns out when you wish to soar, resistance can be your greatest ally.

Thanks to our mother Sarah, this trait is ingrained in the psyche of every Jew throughout all of history.

2 Comments

  • concerned

    I love that last line. We need to know that all our matriarchs and patriarch (emahos and avos) are really part of us. This gives us confidence to continue day by day to do our best and grow more as Yidden to be the best we can be.
    AM YISRAEL CHAI
    MOSHIACH NOW

  • Loomis Notary

    “Judaism maintains that our trials and tribulations serve to optimize our soul’s inherent potential, bequeathing us with an enormous windfall – the profit exacted from a challenger turned ally.” I think this is beautiful. I mean the fact that the “ally” of our transgressions is that “windfall”
    thankyou Rabbi Yossi