The Midrash, in the beginning of Parashat Miketz, cites the pasuk in Tehillim, אשרי הגבר אשר שם ה' מבטחו ולא פנה אל רהבים – “Fortunate is the man who places his trust in Hashem, and does not turn to the arrogant ones.” This pasuk, the Midrash comments, speaks of Yosef Ha’tzaddik, who trusted solely in Hashem and did not place his trust in people.
Many commentators raised the question of how the Midrash could make such a comment about Yosef. After all, Yosef did, in fact, place his trust in another person, when he appealed to the butler for help, asking him to mention him to Pharaoh so he would be released from prison. Why does the Midrash praise Yosef’s bitahon if he turned to a human being for help?
The work Ki Atah Imadi explains that to the contrary, the fact that Yosef turned to the butler for help demonstrates how much he trusted Hashem. Bitahon means trusting that Hashem will never do anything to harm us, just as a person trusts his close friend and knows that he will never hurt him. Bitahon means recognizing that Hashem is the source of all goodness and always does what is best for us. When a person goes through a difficult period, he can easily lose this trust in Hashem, because he does not understand how his situation could possibly be good for him. He stops looking to Hashem for help, because he mistakenly assumes that Hashem does not want to help him. Yosef, however, did not react this way. He experienced many years of hardship. He was sold into slavery, falsely accused of a serious crime, and then sent to prison where he had been sitting for ten years. Throughout these ordeals, he never doubted that Hashem was treating him kindly even as it seemed otherwise. And therefore, when the butler had his dream and Yosef knew he was going to be released, he immediately recognized this as Hashem’s way of bringing him his freedom. He realized that until then Hashem’s kindness was concealed, but now it was evident. Appealing to the butler for help was not necessarily a sensible measure to take; Yosef was a despised Hebrew slave who was thrown into prison on suspicions of committing a very serious crime. Nevertheless, he did not give up hope and he firmly believed that Hashem could save him in ways he could never even imagine. This is bitahon – refusing to despair even after it has it appeared that Hashem has not been helping. Bitahon means believing that Hashem is always helping, and maintaining hope under all circumstances.
Rabbi Bentzion Shafier relates a story of Rabbi Yosef Frankel of Brooklyn, who was once visiting Manchester on Simhat Torah and noticed an elderly man reciting kaddish with tears streaming down his face. The Rabbi approached him and asked him why he was crying, and the man told him his story. As a youngster growing up in Hungary, he was not strictly observant, but there were two mitzvot to which he was very devoted – tefillin, and trusting that Hashem can bring salvation כהרף עין (in the blink of an eye). In 1944, the Nazis took this man and his friends to a labor camp, and along the way, his friends turned to him and asked, “Do you still believe that ישועת ה' כהרף עין?”
“Yes,” the man replied, “100 percent.”
The conditions in the camp were horrible, and the group was forced to perform strenuous labor. At one point, his friends again turned to him and asked, “Do you still believe that ישועת ה' כהרף עין?”
“Yes, 100 percent,” the man again replied.
Later, the group was taken by cattle car to Auschwitz. Once again, the question was asked: “Do you still believe that ישועת ה' כהרף עין?”
“Yes, 100 percent.”
The situation became so grave that he had to give up his tefillin, but he retained his faith in Hashem.
“This they were unable to take from me,” the man recalled.
One day in the camp, a selection was made, with some inmates told to go to the right, and others to the left. Those who went to the right lived, and those who went to the left were taken to the gas chambers. This man and his friends were told to go to the left.
“Do you still believe now that ישועת ה' כהרף עין?”
“Yes, 100 percent. Even now.”
They were shoved into a gas chamber, the door was locked, and the gas was released into the chamber. One last time, the man’s friend turned to him and asked, “Do you still believe that ישועת ה' כהרף עין?”
With conviction, the man said that he still believed.
At that moment, the door burst open, and a Nazi guard came in.
“We need somebody urgently to carry some boxes,” he said, and grabbed this man from the chamber. As he was being taken out, his friend turned to him and said, “Motty, you were right. Please say kaddish for me.”
And so every year, on Simhat Torah, this man says kaddish for his friend, and he is brought to tears.
No matter how difficult the situation is, ישועת ה' כהרף עין – Hashem can help in the blink of an eye.