Is there anything that is truly beyond Hashem?
Several readers commented to me privately that although they enjoyed my column last week (At the cusp of the geulah, it’s our final redemption) they felt it was unlikely to take place in our lifetime. I suggested that we are on the verge of Moshiach’s arrival — if we’d do but two things:
1. Recognize and proclaim ein od milvado (there is none but Him, Hashem) and
2. Make ahavat achim, love of our fellow Jew, our preeminent concern.
They felt that while maybe we could get most Jews to proclaim Hashem is THE ONE, to get them to love their fellow Jews would be nothing short of miraculous.
How sad is that? Isn’t that what believing in Moshiach’s arrival a belief in the miraculous?
And as I’ve tried repeatedly in my columns to demonstrate, this is not based on “blind faith,” but realistically viewing the situations before us through a Tanach perspective.
For example, if we, chas v’shalom, were captive together in Auschwitz in early 1945, facing continued starvation and imminent death, and I turned to you and said, “Don’t worry, we will be sitting together in our own country, our homeland, Israel, with Jerusalem as its capital, in three years,” you would turn to me and say, “You’re clearly delusional.” But that is exactly what happened.
The same for the lightning victory of 1967, the incredible turnaround of the Yom Kippur War of 1973, and the emergence of a destitute country of immigrants beset by enemies at its doorstep and across the globe into an economic and military powerhouse.
• • •
Miracles are our reality — or as Ben Gurion (not a religious man) was reported to have said, “In Israel, anyone who doesn’t believe in miracles is not a realist.”
Some will relate that Chazal rightly claimed ein somchin al ha’nes (we don’t depend on miracles). But when we, with our actions and belief, make them happen, that is our reality.
If we look at this week’s parsha, Lech Lecha, and next week’s, Vayera, we see evidence of this. We are introduced to Avraham Avinu, Hashem’s third attempt at fixing a broken world. Avraham brings the belief in a single, ethical, living G-d to a disbelieving world. He not only succeeds against all odds and becomes wealthy, respected and powerful — defeating five kings and rescuing his nephew alive. Sounds pretty miraculous, no?
And yet, the one thing Avraham wants is a son he can share with his wife Sarah — not the son Yishmael he shares with Hagar, his concubine. When Hashem promises him. This, what is Avraham’s reaction? “He falls upon his face and laughs!”
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Most of us are familiar with Sarah laughing about this prospect in Vayera, and getting mildly punished for it. Chazal that Avraham’s laughter was one of jubilation while Sarah’s was one of derision and disbelief. I’m not sure I accept that distinction, because from the continuing narrative in our parsha, after his laughter, Avraham immediately says to himself, “I’m 100 years old and Sarah is 99 and we’re going to have a baby?!”
This is virtually identical to Sarah’s later complaint of disbelief. For this reason, Hashem’s later retort to Avraham about Sarah’s disbelief can be directed to him as well: “Hayipaleh mei Hashem davar (is anything beyond Hashem?).”
Does this mean they didn’t believe? No. They were just being “realistic.” And Hashem is saying — almost sarcastically — is there anything beyond My ability that I can’t do? Of course not!
That should be the answer to my critics. When they say it’s not “realistic” to expect Jews to come together and love one another, I would respond with Hashem’s response: “Is there anything beyond Hashem’s ability?”
T
he Ruzhiner Rebbe tells the story of a would-be convert who comes to the great Hillel after being rejected by Shammai (Masechet Shabbat 31a), asking to learn all of Torah al regel achat (while standing on one leg).
Most understand this to be a provocative “acrobatic” act intended by the non-Jew to get Hillel to become angry, given its apparent impossibility. Rather than get angry, Hillel tells him something remarkable: “What is hateful to you, don’t do to your fellow.” Treat your fellow amicably. That is all of Torah, and the rest is commentary.
We were not doing that for a year prior to that fateful Shmini Atzeret on Oct. 7, 2023. For that, davka, on Shmini Atzeret we faced a terrible rebuke from Hashem — a middah k’neged middah (measure-for-measure) response for our misdeeds.
And then, without a commandment or directive, we came together as one people. The message immediately was, and is, b’yachad nenatzeach (together we will win). That was and is the reality.
That message, unfortunately, has been fraying for some time. We must reclaim it. That is the solution. That is the key to our redemption.
He’ll do His part. We must do ours.
