Moshe Rabbeinu requested that the ways in which Hashem conducts the world be revealed to him. Chazal (Berachos 7A) explain that he had a specific question which was pressing him, a question that has stumped every human: “Why is it that the righteous (will at times) suffer and the wicked (will at times) prosper?” Veritably, this is a question that only plagues mortals. Those whose neshamos have departed this world are privy to a supernal light which illuminates all that troubles us in this world. Thus, they have no questions. Hashem replied to Moshe, Lo Yiraani adam v’chai, “No human can see My face and live” (33:20). Hashem alluded to the idea that the questions that trouble us are mortal questions from individuals who see with human vision. Once a person is in the Olam HaEmes, World of Truth, his vision changes, and he is not encumbered with human limitations. One cannot see Hashem and live; one must no longer be alive to see and understand Hashem’s ways.
“Things” happen”; in many instances, these occurrences are inexplicable. They are, indeed, beyond our grasp. If we are patient, however, it will all fit in and make sense. In the sefer, Niflaos Livnei Adam, the author writes about a family in London who was scheduled to fly to America to attend a family wedding. Between the size of their family and the amount of luggage, they decided to take a taxi to the airport. They allowed sufficient time for the trip, but “things” happened. Shortly after they left, the taxi — which had tires that were in good shape – blew a tire. The driver stopped on the side of the road, removed the spare and changed the tire. They continued their journey to the airport, and another tire burst. A car carries only one spare, forcing the driver to pull into a gas station and purchase a tire. Seeing that his passengers were becoming increasingly anxious about missing their flight, he decided to speed. This earned him a well-deserved ticket. They arrived at the airport just as the plane’s doors had been sealed. The driver, all apologetic, was able to get them on another flight. End of story? No. On the way home, the driver, listening to the radio, heard that Pan Am Flight 103 exploded over Lockerbie, Scotland, killing all 259 people on board in one of the world’s most lethal acts of air terrorism. His delayed passengers were to have been on that flight – if not for the “things” that happened.
In his commentary to the Haggadah Shel Pesach, the Chiddushei HaRim asks concerning the sequence of Rabban Gamliel’s statement, Kol she’lo amar gimmel devarim b’Pesach, lo yatza yedei chovaso, “Whoever did not say (focus) (these) three subjects on Pesach, does not fulfill his obligation: Pesach (Korban Pesach); matzah, maror.” Should it not have mentioned maror first? After all, it represents the brutality and bitterness of shibud Mitzrayim, the Egyptian bondage. He explains that, when one delves into the meaning of hatzalah, salvation, what it means to be free from Egypt, he begins to understand and (yes) appreciate the depth of the maror, bitterness. When we look at bitterness, pain and even tragedy in its own context, it is inexplicable. When we are availed the larger picture, our perspective on its precursor is altered.
Megillas Esther relates three seemingly disconnected stories: Vashti sinning against Achashveirosh, which led to her execution, and a search for a suitable replacement: Esther; Bigsan and Seresh plotting against the king, which Mordechai overheard and related to Esther, who informed the king of the plot; the story of Haman ha’rasha, who rose to prominence due to his animus towards the Jews. From the first incident, in which Vashti sinned, until Haman’s downfall, a period of nine years passed. Would anyone even have thought these incidents were related to one another? Like everything in life, however, a Divine Plan had choreographed the arc of history. Hashem was laying the groundwork for Jewish salvation.
In the city of Medziboz lived a man who was righteous, as well as G-d-fearing and a huge talmid chacham. He lived in abject poverty, unable to make ends meet. His family dressed in tattered clothing and subsisted on whatever food they could possibly scrounge together. In the meantime, this man dedicated himself wholly to Torah study and avodas ha’kodesh. A time comes, however, when even a tzadik requires advice on how to continue. The suffering was becoming more and more debilitating. He decided to go to the Baal Shem Tov HaKadosh, who lived in Medziboz, and seek his sage advice – and encouragement. He presented his case to the sage who instructed him to travel to Izmir to search for a carpenter with a certain name. Sadly, the tzadik had no way of reaching Izmir, other than by walking. It took a few weeks before he arrived exhausted, hungry, but excited that his issue would be resolved.
The man immediately went to the local shul and asked about the carpenter. Apparently, the members of this shul were a younger crowd, thus, they had no recollection of the man. He went to another shul where he encountered an elderly Jew who said that, sixty years earlier, there had been a miserable person, a Jew by birth, who was a rasha gamur, represented consummate evil, having transgressed every aveirah, sin, in the Torah. He was a miserable person who would report members of the Jewish community to the authorities. He was reviled by everyone. He had neither been seen nor heard of in sixty years. Dejected, the tzadik turned around and began his return trip. Another few weeks passed, and, finally, he arrived at the home of the saintly Baal Shem. He related the entire story, everything that he had heard, adding that the man had not been heard from in sixty years. The Baal Shem looked the man straight in the eyes and said: “You are that man! When you arrived in the Olam Ha’Emes, you were given a punishment commensurate with your sins. You pleaded for an opportunity to repent your sins. You received it. You returned to this world to live a life of misery and abject poverty. Now you know the rest of the story. It was your choice. The Heavenly Tribunal was kind enough to allow you to return.”
