Good Question

The beginning of this week’s Parsha is dedicated to the Halachos of Shemitta and Yovel. The Torah tell us that once every seven years the land rests, a “Shabbos LaHashem”, and every seven cycles of Shemitta there is a Yovel year, which has similar Halachos. Following the Pessukim that discuss these general Halachos, there is a series of Pessukim that are rather unique, and certainly beg discussion and thought.

“V’Chi Somaru Mah Nochal BaShanah HaShviis, Hen Lo Nizrah V’Lo Nosef Es Tevuasenu.” The Torah begin by relating a question that may be asked: “If we cannot gather any produce during the seventh year, because it is Shemitta, what will we eat?” To answer this question the Torah tells us: “ViTzivisi Es Birchasi Lachem BaShana HaShisis V’Asa Es HaTevuah LiShalosh HaShanim,” Hashem ensures that he will grant an extra Bracha in the sixth year, so that the produce harvested then will suffice for three years.

Even a cursory glance at these Pessukim reveals a number of questions.

First, the Torah is not usually written in a rhetorical fashion, posing questions and then answering them. Why in this case is this “question” stated just so it can be answered? If the Torah wanted to let us know that there would be extra Bracha in the sixth year, so that there may be enough to eat for all three years, it could have just told us that—why was it necessary to introduce the idea with this question?

In addition, the nature of the quandary is itself troubling. The question of “Mah Nochal” seems to stem from a lack of Bitachon: if one truly accepts that his Parnasah and sustenance come from Hakadosh Baruch Hu, he would not be disturbed by a year in which he was not able to work. Secure in the knowledge that he is sustained only through the Hashgachas Hashem, he would have no worries about his ability to survive the Shemitta cycle.

It would therefore appear that only a healthy sense of “Kochi V’Otzem Yadi” would cause someone to ask this question. That being the case, why does the Torah deem it necessary to address this question explicitly? Even if there was a need to mention the idea of “ViTzivisi Es Birchasi” for those who may not be on the highest level of Bitachon, why does the Torah have to repeat the question itself, which really seems to be rooted in a less-than-exemplary thought process?

Even the way the Passuk introduces the question is interesting. The words “V’Chi Somru” are plural, and would therefore seem to be referring to all or most of Klal Yisroel, and not to Yichidim. If, as we explained, this concern is rooted in a relative lack of Bitachon, why does the Torah attribute it to all or most of us? Certainly there may be individuals who think this way, but Yisroel Kedoshim Heim—why does it seem that the Passuk assumes we would all have the question of “Mah Nochal?” There are other places where the Torah anticipates negative thoughts—in the case of Hashmatas HaKsafim for example—but phrases those feelings in the singular, addressed at individuals, not the whole Tzibbur, why in this case is the term “Somru” used?

The use of the word “Ki” is also noteworthy. The Malbim notes that words “Ki” and “Im” may seem interchangeable, but there is a basic difference: “Im” is used when there is a doubt as to whether something will happen, while “Ki” is more definite. Thus, when the Torah says “V’Chi Somru”, it seems to be a foregone conclusion that this question will be asked, that some doubts about “Mah Nochal” will surface. Once again, assuming that one would only ask this question if he was lacking in his Bitachon, and thought that his Parnassah was really dependent on his efforts, and that Hashem could not, or would not, provide for him even in a Shemitah year, why does the Torah seem to be sure that this would occur?

Various Meforshim address some of these questions, and seek to reframe the words “Mah Nochal” in order to better understand why the Torah poses this question as it does. The Chasam Sofer, for example, explains that human nature is such that we appreciate that which we have earned. This is why there are Mitzvos: so that we can earn Olam Habbah rather than receive it without work—a concept known as Nahama D’Chisufa.

Because of this, though of course we have the proper Bitachon and know that Hashem can provide for us even in a Shemitah year, we may feel that since this would be B’Derech Nes it may be a less than enjoyable existence. This is the question of “Mah Nochal”, not “What will we eat?” but “What value will it have?”—not having worked for the food we eat during the seventh year, we may not be able to fully appreciate the sustenance we are given. Therefore the Torah tells us “ViTzivisi Es Birchasi Lachem BaShana HaShisis”: it will be the produce of the sixth year that sustains us throught the following two years. Though of course this largesse will be the result of a Nes, the Nes will be brought through the efforts of our hands, making it all the more enjoyable.

This approach certainly helps us understand why the Torah wrote these Pessukim: the question is not the result of a deficiency in Bitachon, but rooted in human nature, and the answer shows that Hashem anticipates this aspect of our humanity and provides for us in the way that we will appreciate the most. These Pessukim do not only address the concerns of one who is less than perfect—they speak to us all and ensure us that Hashem provides our Parnassah in a way that allows us to enjoy it.

There is however a Medrash which indicates that the promise of “ViTzivisi Es Birchasi” is more than just an answer to the concerns of our human nature.

The Mechilta in Parshas Yisro says that Hashem provides us with Schar before we do Mitzvos. One of the examples the Medrash brings is our Passuk: “ViTzivisi Es Birchasi”. The implication of the Medrash is that the abundance of produce that will grow in the sixth year, and sustain us until we can once again plant and reap, is a reward for keeping Shemittah. The Medrash therefore points to this Passuk as a proof that Schar comes before the Mitzvah, because the Bracha of the sixth year clearly comes before we actually keep Shemittah.

Taking into account the words of the Mechilta, it seems that these Pessukim have a totally different understanding that we have had until now. The words “ViTzivisi Es Birchasi” are not in response to a question based in Bitachon or human nature—they describe the reward that we get for keeping Shemittah. The Torah is telling us that if we keep Shemittah we will be rewarded with a bounty in the sixth year that will sustain us until the end of the eighth year.

We must now understand why the Torah poses the question of “V’Chi Somaru Mah Nochal”. If we are being told about our Schar for Shemiras HaShemitah, as the Mechilta suggests, why does the Torah introduce the Bracha with this question?

There is a thought from the Ostrovtzer Rebbe, brought in the Sefer Likutei Yehudah, which can perhaps help us understand these Pessukim in light of the Mechilta.

The Ostrovtzer cannot accept that Yisroel Kedoshim could be suspected of asking a question such as “Mah Nochal”—they would certainly have the Bitachon to know that that if Hashem told us to keep Shemitta he would sustain us during that time. Rather, he explains, the question “Mah Nochal” refers to the way the Bracha would be delivered. The Roshie Teivos of “Mah Nochal” are “Man”, explains the Ostrovtzer, and the Passuk can therefore be understood as follows: perhaps Klal Yisroel would assume that during the years that they couldn’t work the field, they would be sustained by a Nes, and given Man as they were in the Midbar. The Torah therefore tells us that rather than Lechem Min HaShamayim, we would be sustained by the produce of the sixth year, through an unusual measure of Bracha.

Maybe we can take this thought of the Ostrovtzer and apply it in a different way.

When Shemittah approaches, it would understandable that some may be nervous. Chazal tell us that Hashem treats us in a way that reflects our relationship with Him: “Hashem Tzilcha”, he is our shadow, so to speak. Therefore, a person might be afraid that his Bitachon is not on the level to be Zoche to be sustained through a Nes, that he is not on the Madreigah of the Ochlei HaMan, and therefore he may not be able to count on this manner of nourishment. The question of “Mah Nochal” is not asked because we don’t believe that Hashem can sustain us during Shemittah, but because we are not sure that we are worthy of such sustenance.

The Torah therefore tells us that the Bracha comes in the sixth year, as the Mechilta notes, before Shemittah. Hahsem is confident that our Shemirah of Shemitah will improve us and build our Bitachon to a point that we will be ready to accept a supernatural sustenance, though it is brought through our own hand.

That is the message of our Pessukim and the reason that they are written in such a unique manner. The Torah wishes to show us that our concerns about our own abilities and worthiness are unfounded: the Bracha comes before Shemitta because the Shemitta itself will change us, and we will be worthy of an existence that is less than natural.

As we learn the Parsha of Shemitta, it is easy to think that, as we are not farmers, these Pessukim are less relevant to us. But if we reflect on this Mitzvah, and the lessons of Bitachon it teaches us, we will find messages that resonate every day. At times we all fall into a sense of “Mah Nochal” wondering how we can possibly expect to be Zoche to Nissim. We must remember that our Bitachon itself is what ultimately makes us worthy of Bracha: the fact that we ask “Mah Nochal” is what brings the “V’Tzivisi Es Bichasi.”