After a whole slew of harsh punishments delineated in the “tochacha,” the pasuk finally says that we admitted our wrongdoings—“And they will confess their iniquity…” (26:40). It would seem that once we got the message that should end it, but yet right after the tochacha continues. Why should suffering continue after confession?
R’ Nosson Wachtfogel seems to explain (according to my understanding of his idea) that, sometimes, one sole and limited experience of suffering doesn’t accomplish its intended purpose. All that may do is awaken a person to realize that there is a greater purpose of living that he should reach for. Although as a result one may confess and amend his ways, however, this realization and henceforth returnal is lacking since this spiritual achievement was primarily sparked by the suffering, and not from his own personal desire to connect to Hashem. However, the next or continued suffering becomes a whole different experience. At this point he already came to realize that the purpose in life is to connect to Hashem; that’s his new aspirations in life. Hence, now his initiative to improve due to the current suffering he’s experiencing is primarily borne from his own understanding and will, as opposed to from the suffering itself per se, and the suffering is just in order to help him actualize his newfound understanding of life. (See “Noam Hamussar,” p. 174, 175).
If we could perhaps expound on this idea and maybe explain it somewhat…
Suffering may come in order to be awakened to the understanding that the purpose of life is Torah and mitzvot, connection with Hashem. However, there may be two approaches in such circumstances.
One is where one uses connection to Hashem as a means to alleviate his suffering. For him, connecting back to Hashem and Torah is a means to take away the problems, and instead of returning to Hashem on his own volition, he does so because he has to. Hence, he might not necessarily want Torah and Hashem for its own sake but only when he has to come on to it.
However, the other approach is where someone already knows that the goal in life is Torah and constantly developing a relationship with Hashem, and for him this is an end unto itself. Suffering can be a means, a tool, to help him connect with Hashem. In this approach, a person takes “ownership” over his aspirations in life. Thus, he doesn’t become a victim of his circumstances, but instead rises above his troubles, viewing them simply as a way to get him to improve in his main agenda in life, which is reaching greater levels of spirituality. Such a person reaches an independent understanding of the meaning of life, and his motivation and desire for Torah and connection to Hashem are self generated.
Yet, sometimes it may take more than just one spurt of suffering to reach this level, and thus even though confession was made, suffering may still be experienced in order to help one get to this second approach.
We see from here that a central function of suffering can be for one to reach a self-generated interest and initiative to grow in Torah and in his relationship with Hashem.
Making spiritual growth a self-generated ambition is perhaps a fundamental underpinning of Torah. In fact, in Tehillim (34:9) it says, “Taste and see that Hashem is good,” and R’ Aryeh Leib Mahlin explains that this means that mitzvot should be pleasurable. Yet, he asks, why is this so? One is to serve Hashem even when it doesn’t taste so good, and if anything, doing it in pain may be more worthwhile as it is 100 times greater! R’ Mahlin explains that the Torah wants us to make Torah and mitzvot personal—that it should be ours. Thus through “tasting” the pleasure in mitzvot, it becomes personal. (See “M’toraso shel Hagaon Rebbi Aryeh Leib” on Bava Metzia, Sichos Mussar section, maamer gimmel.) If we can perhaps put it in other words, Hashem wants our relationship to Torah and mitzvot to be self generated. He wants us to want to serve Him. And this can be accomplished through “tasting” Torah and recognizing the pleasure within.
Rashi (chp. 26, v. 3 & 14) indicates that the brachot in the beginning of our parsha of Bechukotai are perpetuated through “toiling” in Torah, and the tochacha can be perpetuated because of a lack of toiling in Torah. Why is “toiling” in Torah so vital that it can spell both extremes? Based on the above idea, perhaps we can suggest that if one’s relationship to Torah is begrudgingly and only as a means to continue living the way he wants, then naturally he may not toil in Torah, for toiling perhaps represents a level of dedication and interest. Hence, lacking these ingredients—and mainly a desire for Torah and a relationship with Hashem—may be a recipe for a downward spiral. However, one who truly wants Torah and views Torah as the purpose of life itself, toils in it, for he has an endless self-generated interest to know more and grow more. Hence, for him, it’s an upward spiral that can lead to more bracha.
Binyamin can be reached at [email protected].
