A Wing and a Prayer: Combining Effort and Faith
In the year 1910, the Czarist government convened a Rabbinical conference designed to interfere with Jewish religious affairs. In good despotic tradition, the participating Rabbis found themselves privy to a list of 102 Jewish communities where pogroms were likely to “Occur,” should the conference fail to yield the desired results.
Rabbi Sholom DovBer of Lubavitch (Rashab) perceived the proceedings to be a matter of spiritual life and death. Throughout the conference, he railed the government’s plan and even dared to expose the ministers who were generous enough to share the grim prophesy of the impending pogroms.
“Regardless of our status, physically,” asserted the Rebbe, “It is beyond the capacity of any power on earth to decree over matters of our faith.” His impassioned words concluded with his collapse into a state of faint. Barely was he revived before being placed under house arrest.
When visited by one of the leading Rabbis of the time, the Rebbe was found weeping. “Lubavitcher Rebbe!” exclaimed the Rabbi, “Why are you so distressed? Haven’t you done everything in your means and more?”
Unable to relate to the logic, the Rebbe asked in genuine bewilderment: “And therefore? The damning threat has not yet been averted, has it?”
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The Winner is always a part of the answer; The Loser is always a part of the problem.
The Winner always has a program; The Loser always has an excuse.
The Winner says, “Let me do it for you;” The Loser says, “That’s not my job.”
The Winner sees an answer for every problem; The Loser sees a problem in every answer.
The Winner says, “It may be difficult but it’s possible;” The Loser says, “It may be possible but it’s too difficult.”
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I couldn’t wait for success, so I went ahead without it. – Jonathon Winters
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“Can’t anything in the world ever go right?” These words of frustration, uttered by my six year old son, remain etched in my memory. They came after a valiant struggle with a model airplane, which, as you probably have guessed, ended in disappointment. I’ve since heard these words repeated by people of all ilk.
As we encounter the world with its stubborn realities, it does not take very long to discover that no matter how great the effort, or how pure the intentions, things don’t always work out the way they are supposed to, or at least the way we expect them to. Reality is such, that man often faces stiff resistance over fashioning the outcome of his very own endeavors. This is especially true when the objective involves other free thinking people. Somehow they just, don’t follow the script.
The successful fruition of a pursued endeavor is, as a result, a truly magnificent triumph. The more challenging the task, the deeper the joy, since commensurate with the complexity of a mission is the reward; the fruitful results are that much sweeter.
The ever perplexing question, then, is how much influence do humans have over the outcome of the efforts and ambitions to which they set themselves? Do mortals, after all is said and done, actually have the capability and thus responsibility to control the outcome of their objectives and pursuits, or are they only responsible for the effort, while the outcome is left to powers of a higher order?
The issue of where man’s responsibility ends and where fate begins is a rather confusing and ambiguous topic. Critical as it is, it seems to have simply fallen through the socio-ethical and religious cracks; left for each person to draw the line for themselves.
To a Jew, however the most important question is what Judaism has to say about this query. Does Judaism, in all its manifold and detailed instruction vis-à-vis Jewish living, hold man accountable for particular results, or is it satisfied with his good intentions and best attempts?
The answer is yes to both questions. There is of course plenty of respect in Jewish law and theology for good intentions and well executed effort. Judaism obviously understands the limitations of the human capacity and makes the proper provisions; hence does the Talmud maintain that: “Oness Rachmana Patrei,” – The Torah exempts one who is a victim of circumstances beyond his control.
Based on that principle, one is not held liable for situations beyond one’s power. A typical example of this rule would be the case of a person who is stuck in a traffic jam and arrives too late to pray with the Minyan, it is not held against him. Since he allotted plenty of time to reach the synagogue in time, he is not to blame for praying without a Minyan. But the above notwithstanding, does the latecomer receive credit for praying with a Minyan? Now that is not quite as simple.
At least according to one opinion in the Talmud, while the victim of circumstances is not liable for any transgression that results from his situation, nevertheless, neither is he given any reward. According to this Torah opinion, while good intentions and healthy exertion are of great virtue in life, they sometimes fall short and just don’t cut it.
There are times when it is of critical importance that the issue at hand actually be accomplished. Anything short of getting-the-job-done is tantamount to failure, sort of like the salesperson who may be able to talk up a great storm but cannot seem to close a deal.
But how can that be, you wonder; the person was after all a victim – he made an all out effort. How is he possibly to blame? The answer to this worthy question can obviously not be satisfied on one foot. Generally speaking, however, there is the immediate small picture and there is the overall big picture. True, on the immediate level he may have done everything right, but on another level, he may be lacking and unworthy of the success at hand.
Perhaps he lacks in faith, or prayer. Perhaps he may be trying “too” hard – putting too much stock in his own effort – thinking that it is the might of his own hand that is responsible for the successes and failures in his life. Perhaps failure is G-d’s way of telling him that all is not well with him, despite his doing everything right with regards to that specific matter.
The short of it is that success has realistically very little to do with the direct effort involved. Success is a miracle from heaven, for which we must be deserving. Success requires faith as much as it does effort. It requires prayer as much as it does skill.
This is the message of this week’s Parsha, Pekudei – the final portion in the Book of Shemos. Upon the outset of the commandment to build the Tabernacle, several Parshios back, the Torah states “And they’ll make for Me a sanctuary and I’ll dwell among them.”
Among the religions that have come and gone, some relegated G-d to the heavens of heavens, while others have reduced Him into wind and sand. None, however, has thought of Him as an elusive, transcendent and infinite G-d who can be as present in this lowly and finite world as he is in the heavens above. Yet that is precisely what the sanctuary is about.
Pekudei describes what happened once the Mishkan (Tabernacle) was erected; when all the vessels had been positioned in their proper places. The nation stood and, with great joy and fanfare, beheld the magnificent masterpiece: “Moshe made a final inspection of all the Mishkan’s components and lo! they had accomplished it as G-d had commanded and Moshe blessed them” (39:43). Only one other time in his life – just before his passing – did Moshe bless the nation of Israel.
Upon the completion of Moshe’s blessing, the Torah proceeds to describe how G-d’s presence filled the Mishkan. “And the cloud covered the Ohel Moed and the honor of G-d filled the Mishkan” (40:34).
For the first time since creation, the ultimate Divine intent had come to fruition – the fusion of heaven and earth; the holy with the lowly; the infinite with the finite, had played itself out right before their eyes, but not before Moshe’s short yet poignant prayer. Rashi describes the nature of his blessing: “May the Lord rest His presence in your handiwork.”
The building of the Mishkan was a mammoth feat; an act that consumed an entire nation. Men and women of all ages played a role in this grandiose endeavor: “Every man whose heart inspired him came; and everyone whose spirit motivated him brought the portion of G-d for the work of the Tent of Meeting – for all its labor and for the sacred vestments. The men came with the women; everyone whose heart motivated him… raised up an offering of gold to the Lord.” (Exodus 35:21-22). Sill, in the end, it all came down to Moshe’s prayer and his recognition of the Divine source for all blessings. How powerful is this lesson.
As is well known, the Tabernacle in the desert was a prototype for the temple that each one of us is commanded to build on a microcosmic level, within our very own entities. Much as with the Mishkan, our own personal endeavors must entail vigorous effort and assertion. We cannot expect our successes and achievements to fall like Manna from heaven. On the other hand our efforts alone, without Divine blessing, is like a body without a soul.
Much as with the Mishkan, only through the combination of physical exertion, which creates the vessel, and Divine intervention – through faith and prayer, which creates the energy/blessing, can there be true success in our actions and undertakings.
May the Lord rest His presence in all of our handiwork, especially in our efforts to hasten the coming of the righteous Moshiach BBA.
Chazak Chazak V’nischazeik!
