Price of Tranquility
Dear friends,
Every so often you may find yourself thinking, “What’s the problem already?” I do the best I can most of the time, and when I don’t, the results aren’t usually catastrophic. I just want some time without drama.
If that’s what you were thinking these last few months you may have been sorely disappointed. If nothing else, you may end up feeling an entirely new level of empathy with Yaakov. Last week’s parshah began with the words, “VaYeisheiv”, meaning “and he dwelled”.
In context, after decades of “adventures” – first escaping from Eisov by heading to Charan, where Lavan demanded 2190 workdays in exchange for marrying Rachel – then, when he exchanged Leah for Rachel on Yaakov’s wedding night, Lavan had no problem finding a solution. Just work another 2190 days...
He was deceived time after time by his uncle, and even after leaving had no lack of further “adventures” with Dina, Eisov, etc. Why shouldn’t he ask for a time of tranquility? Rashi’s answer is hardly reassuring. He says that the tzadikim ask for tranquility in this world, but they should suffice with the tranquility that awaits them in the future life. The next chapter was the agonizing story of Yosef.
He had little respite from the kind of drama we don’t choose on our own.
I have good news and bad news.
The bad news is that every step along the way took Yaakov to the “address” that he would have chosen. That’s bad new? Yes, if you don’t ignore that the price was high.
The good news is the same as the bad news. Twins. Clones. Mirror images. The only difference is that when you are paying the price, it’s almost impossible to see what it is buying you at the time.
It was reasonable for Yaakov to ask to “dwell in tranquility” meaning that as he encounters the challenges that are inherent to this world, that he doesn’t lose himself in the pain of the moment. Yaakov was always Yaakov. He never would have reached that level by having high doses of clear skies.
I read a story about the late Skulener Rebbe, Rav Zusha Eliezer Portugal. Although I never met him, I knew his daughters through our daily trips on the Nostrand Avenue bus to Bais Yaakov of Williamsburg. They were unusually sweet, very very modest in their soft way of speaking and of course in their dress, and they always were happy – not the kind of happy that manifests itself with jokes or sharp remarks, but the kind of happiness that matched their clothes, tone of voice, and sweetness.
All I knew about the Rebbe was that had survived a historical reality that was the case for the vast majority of the parents of my schoolmates. I later found out that in his native Romania he managed to find children who had no one, and make them his own.
At one time he was responsible for 200 children. He moved his family to Bucharest and opened a school/dormitory/home for the children whom he loved as though he was genuinely their father. When the communists took over the country, the Jewish branch “The Democratic Jewish Directorate”, heavily committed Stalinists, transferred “his” children to a government school.
On the first day, the principal wanted to meet the children and had them brought to the school’s main hall. He prepared his welcoming speech, but by the time he arrived, one by one the kids had escaped.
The story didn’t end there. The Rebbe was arrested, and tortured (pulling out his peyos and beard were just the “Shalom Aleichem”). In the end, he prevailed, but the first arrest led to a second one, together with his son, Yisrael Avraham, and from the onset it was clear that things would never be as they were.
The chief rabbi of Romania, Rabbi Moshe Rozen, later wrote out the story of his self-sacrifice and courage. The part of his book that is significant is when he wrote what the Rebbe told him about his thoughts as he underwent the unspeakable pain to which he was subjected. “I would bring myself back to a pasuk in Tehillim (109: 30-31). “
I shall thank Hashem very much with my mouth, and I will praise him before many people, because He shall stand by the right side of (me) the impoverished man, to save my soul from judgment”. I had a niggun. I let the niggun fill me completely. It became my entire being.
All of my bones were full of its sound and words. The more the interrogator shouted at me, the only fear I had was that I would lose the niggun. I held on to it with my entire soul. Eventually, he gave up. He was amazed at me. He didn’t know that it wasn’t me. It was the One who stood at my right side.
The Skulener Rebbe shed his light over many people.
So can we all.
Here are a few thoughts that I saw in a booklet put out by Rav Abergil.
1 – Rambam says, “The joy that a person has when he does mitzvos with love of Hashem who commanded him to do this, is serving with what he calls “avoda Gedola”, great service. When you do a mitzvah with simchah, it shows that your heart is with Hashem.
2 – Opening a siddur to pray, could make you aware of the privilege that you have as a Jew to have a direct relationship with Hashem. There is nothing that He can’t do, and nothing that He doesn’t hear. Knowing this can give you the feeling of love that is the heart of simchah.
3 – If you recognize that Torah is both a map of how to get through life, and a key to your own heart, and a way to have genuine closeness and attachment to Hashem, you will be willing to pay any sum to make it your own. For women, the goal is to find the part of Torah that speaks to you and tells you that there is more, bigger, better, and more meaningful than anything you can get by any other means.
4 – When you fail yourself and don’t live up to what you know you could be, or you make life‑mistakes that can’t be corrected, realize that Hashem can repair you, and the world is His to restore on His terms. The most genuine sign of teshuvah is love, gratitude and simchah.
You may not have ease, but you can have simchah.
Tranquility comes, but not with passivity or apathy. Chanukah is here! Enjoy the light!
Love,
Tziporah
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