Life is Like a Play
The Gemara in Masechet Rosh Hashanah (11a) tells, כל מעשי בראשית...בדעתן נבראו – all of G-d’s creations were brought into existence with their consent. Rashi explains that G-d asked each and every creature whether it agreed to be created in its particular way, and they all consented.
On this basis, Rav Moshe Greenwald (Hungary, 1853-1910), in his work Arugat Ha’bosem (Parashat Hayeh-Sarah), suggests a reason for why the ground is called ארץ. Already the Midrash comments that this word refers to the fact that רצתה לעשות רצון קונה – the ground “desired to fulfill its Creator’s will.” Rav Greenwald explains that when the ground was told it would exist down below, far from the Almighty, and would not enjoy the privileges given to the celestial beings to exist in the heavens near G-d, it readily agreed, without protest. It eagerly and happily accepted the role which G-d assigned to it, and voiced no objection. This is what the Midrash means when it said about the ground, רצתה לעשות רצון קונה. It desired to fulfill its G-d-given role even though this role was far less prestigious than other roles.
Rav Greenwald writes that this is the meaning of the pasuk in Tehillim (101:6), עיני בנאמני ארץ – “My eyes are upon the faithful ones of the earth.” The נאמני ארץ, he explains, are those people who follow the example set by the ארץ, the ground, who happily accept the roles that Hashem gives them in this world, who recognize that Hashem has given them the precise tools and circumstances they need to fulfill their particular roles. Hashem has special love and affection for people who are happy with whatever their roles are, even if they are given “earthly” roles and not “heavenly” ones.
The Torah says that after six days of creation, when the first Shabbat set in, the Almighty stepped back, as it were, looked upon the world, and saw that it was perfect. On each of the six days, one individual aspect of the universe was brought into existence. When the process was complete, it became clear how all the different pieces fit perfectly together, and every detail of creation had its particular place and specific function. Shabbat, then, is the time to recognize and acknowledge that we all have our assigned roles. Even if it appears that our assigned role is less honorable or significant than other people’s roles, this should not bother us at all. We are all here for the same ultimate purpose – to fulfill the specific role assigned to us by G-d. Shabbat is the time for us to recommit ourselves to, and lovingly embrace, our especially assigned role, without feeling envious of anybody else’s role.
Rav David Ashear, in his Living Emunah, cites Rav Ephraim Wachsman as comparing life to a dramatic presentation. He writes:
Imagine a show where the two main characters are a very wealthy man and a very poor man. The wealthy man is played by a new actor who is still breaking in to the profession, and who is earning just a few thousand dollars for the job. The poor man, however, is being played by a world-renowned actor who is receiving millions of dollars for the role. People in the audience might look at the wealthy character and think to themselves, “Wow, this fellow has everything he can ever want,” while feeling sorry for the pauper who lives such a difficult life and suffers abject poverty. Of course, nothing is further from the truth; the truth is that the person playing the poor man is a millionaire, and he earns his millions by playing the role assigned to him.
Like actors on a stage, we all have specific roles to play here in this world. If we play the role correctly, whether it be living a noble life with modest means, or living a noble life in affluence, we earn great reward. But if the actor assigned the role of a pauper suddenly decides on stage to switch roles, he’d be fired. Likewise, if we reject our role, and try playing somebody else’s role, we end up forfeiting our reward.
A fable is told of two oxen who stood together watching enviously at the majestic sight of eagles gracefully flying overhead. They both admired the beauty and grandeur of the eagles’ flight, and very much wanted to emulate them.
The foolish ox stood at the edge of a mountain, and when it felt a gust of wind, it jumped into the air and attempted to fly. Of course, it quickly came crashing down to the ground.
The wise ox, however, said to itself, “I obviously cannot fly like an eagle. I was not built with this ability. I am not equipped to fly. But I have other talents. I can do things that eagles can’t. I will try to plow the earth as gracefully as the eagle flies.”
When we see somebody excel in a way we never can, we should not feel disheartened or envious. Instead, we should resolve to work harder and improve in the things we are good at, to do our job as well as that person does his or hers.
This is an especially vital message in the area of child-rearing and education. Rav Ades noted the importance of parents empowering their children with self-esteem, and he said the way we do this is by emphasizing this point – that each and every person in this world has his or her own unique role to fulfill. When a child knows that he was created with special capabilities that nobody else has so that he can fulfill the role assigned only to him and to nobody else on earth, he feels confident even if his peers score higher grades than him or are better ball players than him.
Rav Shlomo Wolbe (Aleh Shur, vol. 1, p. 36) writes that no two people have the exact same qualities or the exact same missions in life. Each person has his or her particular role, and is born with specific qualities which are his or her tools to fill that role. And it is critically important for children to hone their G-d-given talents and develop their unique qualities so they can fulfill their particular roles as adults. Too often, children squander their unique talents because they look at other people’s qualities and capabilities, and, like the foolish ox, they try to “fly like the eagle.”
We recite each morning a berachah thanking Hashem שעשה לי כל צרכי – “who has given me all my needs.” Rav Wolbe explains that this refers not only to our physical needs, but also to our talents and characteristics which enable us to perform our divinely-ordained role in this world. Part of emunah is acknowledging that Hashem has given us precisely what we need to do the job which we were placed in this world to perform, that He has sent us here with all the tools necessary to fill our roles.
Rav Avraham Schorr noted that if a country’s President and defense establishment sent its military into enemy territory to carry out a military mission, but it did not equip the soldiers with proper provisions and ammunition, then this would be deemed a grave failure of leadership. Accordingly, we cannot possibly imagine that G-d put us here in this world to perform a role for which we are not properly equipped. To believe this would be to question G-d’s morality, Heaven forbid. He sent us each here to this world to do a particular job, and He has given each of us precisely what we need to do that job.
Rav Ades explained that it is because of our arrogance that we sometimes refuse to accept our mission, and feel we should be doing somebody else’s job, which we consider more dignified and noble. If we were truly honest, we would acknowledge that since G-d gave us a particular role, it must, by definition, be the best role for us to fulfill.
Building emunah is a lifetime of work. We must constantly strengthen and reinforce our belief. And Shabbat is the best time for this effort. On Shabbat we have the time to refocus our attention on emunah, and, additionally, as mentioned earlier, it is the time to step back and appreciate how every person and every detail in the world fits into place. Let us use Shabbat as an opportunity to remind ourselves and our children that life is like a play, and we are each here to fill our unique role, rather than try to fill the roles assigned to others.