Being that this curse is toward the conclusion of the curses, it is apparent that it is more frightening than its predecessors, such as: hunger, privation, and death. Veritably, this curse may refer to one who is in no danger. There is no enemy – yet his heart is racing, the anxiety is gripping him. There is no threat; yet, he is filled with panic. The curse is not the enemy outside, but the fear from within.
Such a person is not afraid of anything, other than fear itself. Once fear becomes the reigning force in one’s mind, he no longer requires an external enemy. Indeed, he is his own worst enemy. Every anxiety that grips him becomes justifiable –in his mind. What began as fear has progressed to anxiety and even paralysis.
Being afraid for no reason is far more destructive than fear of a genuine threat. When a danger is real, fear serves a purpose. He becomes cautious, his awareness of the clear and present danger is sharpened, so that if his fear is realized, he can act intelligently.
Baseless fear is disengaged, no boundary and no limit. One who fears something which he concocted in his mind begins to fear everything and everyone. When the mind is deprived of clarity, the vacuum is filled with imagined danger. This is all under the rubric of anxiety. Fear feeds on fear until the person is so paralyzed that he is unable to function.
This is why the Torah presents this state as a curse of the deepest order. External suffering afflicts the body; internal fear corrodes the soul. It robs a person of clarity, of judgment, and of trust – both in others and in himself. Most devastatingly, it erodes a person’s sense of Divine protection, leaving him feeling abandoned even when he is not. He loses his emunah, faith.
The antidote to this curse is not the elimination of danger, but the restoration of perspective. When a person lives with emunah, fear resumes its proper place – as a servant, not a master. He can once again assess reality honestly, measure accurately, and regain the stability of his heart. Without emunah, however, fear reigns unchecked, and the curse of Rebuke becomes a lived experience.
A young chasid, a talmid of the Baal Shem Tov, revered his saintly Rebbe with total devotion. His bein adam la’Makom and bein adam la’chaveiro were exemplary. He was meticulous in all areas of halachah. Yet, he was a mess. He struggled with fear – pure, baseless fear. He feared the night; he feared being alone. He feared walking from one street to another. He was sadly ready for the psychiatrist’s couch, but he went one better. Understanding that every physical deficiency has its source in a spiritual flaw, the talmid turned to his Rebbe and asked for help.
“Rebbe, I trust Hashem. I serve Hashem. Yet, I am paralyzed with fear. What am I to do?”
The holy Baal Shem replied, “You learn about Hashgachah Pratis, Divine Providence; yet, you do not know how to feel it. Come back tomorrow night at shkiah, twilight.”
Walking to his Rebbe’s house alone in the semi-darkness was a frightening experience for him. The terror that had robbed him of his self-esteem was gripping him as the sun sunk deeper in the sky. It was getting dark, and he was walking alone at night. His legs began to tremble, as he fought the overwhelming urge to turn back.
He then recalled his Rebbe’s words: “Learn how to feel Hashem’s Providence.” He began to whisper, “Hashem is with me – even here. Borei Olam, I know that You created the world and that You did not forsake it. You continue to guard it.”
These words became his mantra as he kept repeating it quietly, step by step until he reached Rebbe’s house. Standing before the Baal Shem Tov, exhausted yet relieved, the chassid felt a transformation: the fear was still present, but it no longer ruled him. He understood that fear itself was not the enemy; the true enemy was the absence of belief in Hashem’s constant nearness.
You can know intellectually that Hashem is always with you, but that knowledge must become reality if it is to protect you. Torah and emunah must permeate the soul – not just the mind.
