Moshe Rabbenu did not understand.
He was working as a shepherd in Midyan, quite a distance from Egypt, until one day G-d suddenly appeared to him and commanded him to return to Egypt, confront Pharaoh, and lead Beneh Yisrael out of slavery. Moshe was reluctant to assume this role, but he eventually agreed. He came to the people to announce to them that their redemption was imminent, and they reacted with great excitement. Then, he came before Pharaoh to demand that he let Beneh Yisrael free – and Pharaoh responded by intensifying their workload, by making their suffering worse. He announced that they would have to fetch their own straw to produce bricks, but they would have to produce the same number of bricks as they had until then.
Moshe then turned to G-d and asked, למה הרעותה לעם הזה למה זה שלחתני – “Why have You done evil to this nation? Why did You send me??”
Parashat Vaera begins with Hashem’s response to Moshe’s cry of exasperation. Hashem assures Moshe that He would be redeeming the people and bringing them to Eretz Yisrael, but He begins with a vague introduction that is difficult to understand:
וידבר אלוקים אל משה ויאמר אליו אני ה'. וארא אל אברהם אל יצחק ואל יעקב בקל שד-י ושמי ה' לא נודעתי להם.
“G-d spoke to Moshe and said to him: I am Hashem, and I appeared to Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov as ‘Kel Sha-ddai,’ and I was not known to them by My Name ‘Hashem’.”
Why does Hashem tell Moshe אני ה' (“I am Hashem”), something which Moshe quite obviously already knew very well? And what does Hashem mean when He says that He appeared to the patriarchs as קל שד-י but not with the Name ה' (“Havayah,” spelled י-ה-ו-ה)?
Two Kinds of Believers
Among those who believe in Hashem and believe that He controls the world and our lives, we find two general groups of people. The first consists of those who go to shul in the morning and pray, and then expect to have a good day. They properly observe Shabbat, and then expect to have a good week. They recite Tehillim, and then expect to receive that which they prayed for. They give charity and help people, and then expect things to work out well for them.
When these people’s expectations are not met, they feel frustrated and even resentful. They wonder why they aren’t seeing the results they wanted, why Hashem isn’t giving them what they deserve.
The other type of believer is the one who doesn’t expect any results. Such people do what they know is the right thing and trust that Hashem is in charge and knows precisely what He’s doing. They are committed to trying their hardest, and know that Hashem will provide the results that He considers the best.
I have two close friends who belong in these two different groups. Both, unfortunately, have experienced severe financial struggles, but their reactions could not be any more different. Consider these two different text messages that I received from them.
One of them once wrote:
“Joey, I just don’t get it. I prayed, I did what I’m supposed to do, and I still got fired. I’m done with all of this.”
The other once wrote:
“Joey, imagine you’re all dressed up in your brand new suit about to go to your daughter’s wedding. Just then you get a knock on the door, and there stands a beggar with a deli sandwich in his hand and he asks you for mustard. You give him mustard, and he takes the bottle and sprays it all over your $500 suit. What would your reaction be? And what about if he then asked for more mustard? Would you give it to him?”
After I wrote back asking what on earth he was talking about, he explained:
I’m talking about Hashem right now. All of mankind is like this beggar. We ask this man in the suit, Hashem, for everything – life, health, happiness, parnasah – everything. He showers us with these blessings, and we sin. Effectively, we take the mustard He gives us and spray it on His suit. And yet we keep asking for more, and He keeps on giving.
This text message was written by a man who had lost his job after working incredibly hard, and cannot afford to pay any of his bills.
What’s the difference between these two kinds of people? They both believe in Hashem, but only the second trusts Hashem. The first believes that Hashem controls everything, but he gets upset when he does not get what he wants and what he thinks he deserves; the second believes that Hashem controls everything, and he trusts in Hashem’s decisions as to what he should have. The first performs solely in order to see the results he wants; the second performs and trusts in Hashem to provide the best results, even if they aren’t the results we had hoped for.
The Faith – and Trust – of the Patriarchs
Our nation was founded by three great men who not only believed in Hashem, but trusted Hashem, even though they never saw the results they wanted.
Hashem told Avraham to pick up and move to Eretz Yisrael, promising him a glorious future. He was told he would produce a huge nation that would be comparable to the stars of the sky and the grains of sand on the beach, and which would take possession of the entire Land of Israel. Avraham did as he was told and continued living in unbridled devotion to Hashem. Yet, when he departed this world at the age of 175, what did he have? He was still a foreigner in Eretz Yisrael, and he had just one son who followed his path. That son had just two thirteen-year-old boys, one of whom became a wicked man.
Avraham received many promises, but nothing else. Sure, he was wealthy, but he did not live to see the glorious future that Hashem promised him in reward for his piety and his efforts. And yet, all throughout, he never questioned Hashem. He did not just believe; he trusted. He received a promise, and he fully trusted that Hashem would fulfill it at the time and in the manner that He saw fit.
Hashem reiterated these promises to Avraham’s son, Yitzchak, who also never saw them fulfilled. He had one son who was a violent criminal and plotted to kill the other. And when Yitzchak left this world, his one righteous son, Yaakov, was in a state of inconsolable mourning and incurable depression over the loss of his beloved son, Yosef. Yitzchak never lived to see Hashem’s promises fulfilled, but he believed and he trusted.
Yaakov, who inherited these blessings, suffered a very difficult life, and lived his final years in exile, in Egypt, where his descendants would be enslaved soon after his death. Like his father and grandfather, he received blessings from Hashem that he never saw fulfilled, and yet he continued believing and remained unwaveringly devoted.
We read in the Book of Mishleh (8:21), להנחיל אוהבי יש – Hashem grants those who love Him the blessing of יש. The word יש could be read as representing two of His Names: the Name of י-ה-ו-ה, and
the name of שד-י. The first refers to Hashem’s attribute of kindness, His manifestation in the world and in our lives through all the many wonderful blessings that we enjoy. The name שד-י, by contrast, stems from the word די (“enough”), and refers to those times when Hashem limits our ability to see and experience His kindness. Hashem blesses us with יש; He enables us to have both belief and trust. He empowers us to believe that the blessings in our lives come from Him, and to also take the more difficult step of trusting in Him at times of די, when we cannot see His kindness. This is the example set for us by our patriarchs – the ability to not only believe, but also to trust.
Inspiring Exemplars of Belief and Trust
This example has been followed by countless righteous Jews over the years – including by some right here in our community.
In January, 2016, tragedy struck our community with the death of a two-year-old boy, a grandson of very dear personal friends of mine. The boy had been very ill, and thousands upon thousands of Jews in our community and beyond had been praying for his recovery.
When I visited the grandparents two days after the boy passed away, the grandmother said to me, “Rabbi, you had to see what happened in the hospital room last Wednesday. It was incredible. The oxygen machine read just 50 percent – which meant he was getting only 50 percent of the oxygen he needed – and the number was dropping. The doctor told us that this was the end. He was no longer retaining oxygen, and so it would soon be over.
“We were sitting in the room watching the machine as we prayed. And we saw the numbers start rising. 51, 52, 53… We started cheering, and continued praying. 60, 61, 62, 63… The number reached 80. The doctor said it didn’t make any sense. All of us in that room saw Hashem keep our son alive. It was incredible.
As she was speaking, I thought to myself, “Her son died two days later – yet she was able to feel grateful to Hashem for that miracle!”
Even though she did not get the results she wanted, this woman never lost her trust in Hashem. She saw Him when He was visible, and trusted Him when He wasn’t.
We often hear uplifting stories with happy endings, where a person was clearly helped by Hashem and everything worked out. Such stories might help inspire belief, but they could potentially cause one to lose trust. When we hear these stories, we might think that Jewish faith is only about the happy ending, about things working out perfectly, about getting the results we want. And then, when we don’t, we become frustrated and resentful. This remarkable woman taught me about having belief and trust; about recognizing both Names of Hashem – י-ה-ו-ה and שד-י. She saw Hashem when His presence was palpable, and trusted in Him when it wasn’t. Even when the results were so painful, when Hashem’s kindness could not be seen, she gained strength from the time when it was.
This is what true emunah (faith) means. It means both recognizing Hashem’s kindness when it is visible and trusting in Hashem’s kindness when it isn’t visible.
And this was Hashem’s message to Moshe in Egypt. He had appeared to the patriarchs as שד-י, giving promises that they never saw fulfilled. They never saw י-ה-ו-ה, Hashem’s outwardly discernible kindness, yet they did not complain or object. They had complete trust in G-d and did not question Him. And so even though Moshe could not understand why Hashem sent him to Pharaoh which only had the effect of making things worse, he needed to place his trust in Hashem just as the patriarchs did.
This is also the meaning of the first pasuk in this parashah: וידבר אלוקים אל משה ויאמר אליו אני ה'. G-d spoke to Moshe as אלוקים – the Name that signifies harsh judgment – and He said אני י-ה-ו-ה – that there is no difference between what appears as harsh judgment and what appears as kindness. We need to believe that the same Hashem who is י-ה-ו-ה, whose kindness we often experience in a real, direct way, is also אלוקים – the Hashem who does things which appear harsh. We need to trust in Hashem even when we don’t understand, when we cannot understand, when we have questions with no answers.
Hashem was telling Moshe that He wants the people to trust Him even in periods of שד-י, when they don’t understand, when they don’t see the results they want, just as Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov unquestioningly trusted Hashem despite never seeing the promises fulfilled.
The Best Stories for Bolstering Emunah
We all love stories of Hashgahah, of people who were helped by Hashem in a clear display of providence. I myself regularly share such stories in my classes. However, as mentioned, while these stories certainly inspire and reinforce our belief in Hashem, they also pose the danger of making faith contingent upon a “happy ending.” As we all know, real life is not about “happy endings.” Rarely do things work out exactly the way we want it to. And we need to have as much emunah when they don’t as we have when they do.
In my view, the best stories for bolstering emunah is one’s own stories, one’s own life experiences. Every one of us has both stories of י-ה-ו-ה, when we clearly saw Hashem’s hand guiding us, and also stories of שד-י, periods of hardship and distress, when we did not see Hashem’s kindness. Reflecting on both can have a powerful effect and help us to always trust Hashem and always know that we are in “good hands,” even when the results are not what we want.
Leah was going through a lonely, dull period of life. She had a job which she did not particularly like, did not pay particularly well, and offered no opportunity for career advancement. Her two daughters were already married, and her only son was in yeshiva. Her husband worked night shifts and came home in the wee hours. This meant that she returned from her unfulfilling job every evening to a dark, empty, lonely house. What’s more, Leah and her siblings got into a fierce argument over the inheritance, which resulted in her receiving a very small portion and her not speaking to any of her siblings. She felt all alone. Her life was a in dismal rut.
On her 48th birthday, Leah happened to mention to a coworker, one whom she actually liked, that it was her birthday, and the coworker decided they should celebrate. She offered to take Leah out for lunch and treat her in honor of the occasion.
During lunch, Leah opened up about her feelings of emptiness and dissatisfaction.
“Why don’t you do something to recharge yourself?” the friend said. “Maybe attend some classes or read some books to light a spark and get yourself going.”
The friend then proceeded to pull a book out of her bag and urged Leah to take it, as it discussed matters involving faith and belief in Hashem. Leah initially refused, but the friend convinced her.
Later that day, Leah returned home from work and opened up the book. She decided to skim through it, and opened to a random page in the middle of the book. On that page a story was told of a woman named Shaindy who needed to take her elderly mother to a doctor’s appointment in Manhattan. As her husband took their only car, and she couldn’t afford a taxi, Shaindy decided to make the trip to the city from Flatbush by train. It was a very difficult trip for the elderly mother, especially given the frigid weather and the fact that they needed to take two different trains.
At the doctor’s office, the doctor was shocked that Shaindy made her mother travel by train from Brooklyn. “How could you bring your 80-year-old mother here through ice and snow? Next time, please take a cab.”
Shaindy now had a problem. She needed to take a cab back to Brooklyn, but she only had $20 with her. They were both very hungry, so they went into a restaurant to buy some food. They bought an $8 lunch and sat down to eat. She called her husband to see if he could pick her up, but he said he was in Queens and the car was at the mechanic. He advised her to pray to Hashem for help.
Shaindy pulled out a Tehillim and started praying. As she prayed, tears started rolling down her face.
Just then, a woman walked into the restaurant and recognized Shaindy. It turned out they had attended elementary school together.
“What’s wrong?” the woman asked. “Why are you crying?”
“It’s actually quite embarrassing,” Shaindy said. “I’m just having one of those days. I’m here with my mother without a car, and I need to somehow get back to Brooklyn to be with my kids.”
“No problem at all,” her old friend replied. “I’ll be very happy to drive you home.”
“But you live in Boro Park,” Shaindy said.
“That doesn’t matter,” the friend answered. “I’m not in any particular rush. I’ll take you to Flatbush.”
This experience changed Shaindy’s life, as she saw firsthand Hashem’s direct involvement in her life and the way He answered her prayers.
Leah read this story, and then said to herself, “This is strange. I think I’ve heard this story before.”
She then realized that she had never heard this story before – but she WAS the story. She was that woman who met Shaindy in the restaurant and gave her a ride to Brooklyn. It was ten years earlier. She happened to be in Manhattan – she wasn’t even sure why – and that ride changed Shaindy’s life forever.
Leah thought to herself, “Hashem sent me this book on my birthday and showed me this story – and I am the star of the story! What is He telling me?”
After reflecting for several minutes, she knew the answer. She was to receive the same inspiration from this story that Shaindy did. This story should change her life, too, and remind her that Hashem is with her at every step of the way.
She reached out to her siblings and reconnected with them. She quit her job and started spending more time with her children. Her son got engaged, and the entire extended family came together to celebrate. Her husband changed his working hours so he would be home with her in the evening. It was her own story that changed her life.
The most inspirational stories are our own. We can draw strength from our own life experiences, by recognizing Hashem when He can be seen in our lives, and trusting that He is with us even when He cannot be easily seen.
The Mezuzah on the Door
Every time we leave our homes, we pass by the mezuzah which sits quietly on the door frame. On the mezuzah is written the second paragraph of Shema, the paragraph of והיה אם שמוע, which promises great rewards for observing the Torah’s commands. This text, however, is not visible. The parchment is rolled up such that the text is concealed, and the Name שד-י is written on the exterior of the parchment. And thus when we pass by the mezuzah, the message of reward for our mitzvot is concealed, whereas the Name שד-י is exposed.
The message being taught is that so often in life, the reward is hidden. We are not always going to see how our mitzvot benefit us. What we do see is שד-י, the limits of our understanding. Each time we leave our homes and go about our business, this is what we are told: even when the reward, the benefits of observance are hidden, we need to place our trust in Hashem and follow Him faithfully, despite the fact that the results are not the ones we want.
I noticed something remarkable when I visited that family after the loss of their beautiful two-year-old grandson. There was complete calm. The family accepted the tragedy with unbridled emunah. They did not fall apart. They were in great pain, the kind of which I hope none of us ever have to experience, but they were still strong.
This is the power of trust. When we trust in Hashem, we stay strong even when things work out very differently than the way we want them to. This is the amazing power bequeathed to us by our avot, by Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov, and it allows us to overcome any difficult situation, no matter how painful it is, and emerge from it stronger and closer to Hashem.