Fathers and Sons
Parshas Ekev
This essay explores the connection between the experiences of Bnei Yisroel in the Midbar and their commitment to Mitzvos, emphasizing that hardships can lead to spiritual growth.
At various times throughout Sefer Devarim, which is largely comprised of his last words to Bnei Yisroel, Moshe Rabbeinu reminds us that our hold on Eretz Yisroel is wholly dependent on our Shemiras HaMitzvos: if we keep the Mitzvos as they were given to us, we will enjoy a peaceful and almost miraculous existence.
One such occurance is toward the beginning of this week’s Sedra where the Torah tells us: “Kol HaMitzvah Asher Anochi Mitzavcha HaYom Tishmirun La’asos L’Man Tichyun U’Rivisem U’Vasem V’Rishtem Es HaEretz.” We are warned to adhere strictly to the Mitzvos so that we may not only live and be fruitful, but also so that we may be Zoche to Eretz Yisroel.
The following Pessukim seem to digress into an historical narrative, telling us that we must keep in mind the forty years that we spent in the Midbar, during which time Hashem tested us: “L’Man Anoscha L’Nasoscha Hashomer Mitzvosav Im Lo”. The Torah expands on this, telling us how we were tested: “VaYancha V’Yarivecha V’Yachilcha Es HaMan: I oppressed them and starved them, and fed them the Man”, which we are told was to teach us that man does not live by his own work, rather “Ki Al Motzei Pi Hashem Yichyeh HaAdam.” Then, the Torah adds another apparent form of Nisayon that occurred in the Midbar: “Simloscha Lo Balsa MeAlecha…V’Raglecha Lo Batzeka: your clothes did not wear our and your feet did not swell or crack.”
The Torah appears to conclude this interlude by telling us how these facts should affect our world view: “V’Yadata Im Levavecha Ki K’Asher Yiyaser Ish Es Beno, Ken Hashem Elokecha Miyasrecha.” We should know, says the Passuk, that just as a father disciplines his son, Hashem disciplines us.
Taking the progression of these Pessukim into account, further explanation is certainly necessary.
The very fact that this series of Pessukim begins with the word “V’Zacharta” seems to imply that the Torah will now tell us something that is closely connected to the preceding Passuk, “Kol HaMitzvah Ashe Anochi Mitzavcha HaYom Tishmirun La’asos”. In other words, it would seem that the Torah is telling us that if we want to ensure that we can maintain our Shemiras HaMitzvos in Eretz Yisroel we must keep in mind the events of the Midbar.
That said, we must understand how this works: how does the way that Hakadosh Baruch Hu related to Bnei Yisroel in the Midbar help later generations keep the Mitzvos. Certainly this is not a threat, as if to say: “Lest you stray from the Derech Hashem, remember that I oppressed Bnei Yisroel in the Midbar.” In fact Rashi, as explained by the Sifsei Chachamim, explains that the purpose of the Yissurin in the Midbar was not to force the Bnei Yisroel to do Mitzvos, but to test their commitment under duress. We see then that the Yissruin, or the threat thereof, are not used to force a person to do Mitzvos. If that is the case, how can we understand these Pessukim? Why does “V’Zachata” lead to “Tishmirun La’asos”?
In an effort to understand these Pessukim, we must also appreciate the nature of the Yissurin of the Midbar and how they relate to us—after all it seems that we are to learn from those Yissurin and use them to enhance our Shemiras HaMitzvos.
The two examples of Yissurin seem to be fact that we are Mon in the Midbar and the fact that our clothing did not wear our and our feet did not swell. For our perspective it is somewhat difficult to understand what how either of these was a Nissayon.
Mon was Lechem Min Hashamayim, food that one did not have to work for or even cook—they only had to go out and collect the Mon each day and their needs were taken care of. How was this Inuy? Chazal do explain that there was a certain aspect of Inuy in the Mon because it all looked the same, and food is not as tasty if one cannot see it or if it is not attractive in appearance. We would assume, however, that this slight detraction would be outweighed by all the benefits the Mon offered—how was this a Nisayon as the Passuk indicates?
In this respect, the Passuk of “Simloscha Lo Balsa MeAlecha…V’Raglecha Lo Batzeka” is even more difficult to understand. This seems to be a continuation of the statement “L’Man Anoscha L’Nasoscha”, but what is the Inuy in this aspect? How can we understand that the fact that they wore the same clothing throughout the time in the Midbar, and that their feet were not affected, was a Nisayon used to test our commitment to Shemiras HaMitzvos?
It is also a little difficult to understand the final Passuk we quoted above: “V’Yadata Im Levavecha Ki K’Asher Yiyaser Ish Es Beno, Ken Hashem Elokecha Miyasrecha.” Why does the Torah insert this almost philosophical notion at this point? Again, all of these Pessukim are meant to help us achieve a level of “HaMitzvah Ashe Anochi Mitzavcha HaYom Tishmirun La’asos”. In what way does the concept of “Ki K’Asher Yiyaser Ish Es Beno…” help us in this way.
Perhaps, however, we can better understand this entire group of Pessukim, and their message, based on a thought of the Meshech Chachma.
R’ Meir Simcha notes that in the realm of Mussar and discipline there are approaches that are good and sweet—referred to as Tov—but those are rarely effective, and there are paths that are effective—referred to as Mo’il, helpful—but are often harsh and unpleasant. This idea can be compared to a field, which must first be dug up and plowed in order to plant seeds that can grow—while it may seem that plowing is destructive, it is in fact the only way to plant effectively. If one is too careful he cannot plant effectively.
This rule is not true of Hakadosh Baruch Hu, however. The Chessed of Hashem is both Tov and Mo’il—it is true Chessed in that it helps and it is enjoyable. Similarly,the “Passuk in Tehillim, which we say each morning, says “Zamru L’Elokeinu Ki Na’im Nava Sehillah”, R’ Meir Simcha explains that even when Hashem acts in the guise of “Elokim” his actions are “Na’aim”, sweet. Not only is Din effective, it is also pleasant—even if we may not always sense that sweetness. In this way Hashem is unique, because He discipline and educate in a way that is pleasant and effective at the same time—all oh His actions are both Tov and Mo’il.
Based on this thought we can understand the why the Torah tells us “Ki K’Asher Yiyaser Ish Es Beno, Ken Hashem Elokecha Miyasrecha”.
There are two basic principals that a parent must employ in their own pedagogy if they hope to be effective: their actions must be tailored to each child in their own way and according to their own needs, and they must not seek to punish in a punitive manner, but in a way which will spur growth. This is the only way to balance the Tov and Mo’il. When the discipline is tailored to the child it is Mo’il and when it creates growth it is inherently Tov.
Here the Torah tells us that in every case the Yissurin of Hashem achieve this very balance—if we see that Hashem has brought Yissruin upon a person, we can be assured that this will be both Tov and Mo’il. This is because the Yissurin are tailored to he who receives them, and they are done in a way that they will create growth.
With this in mind we can perhaps understand the Yissurin of the Midbar. While relying on the Mon for our physical subsistence may seem enjoyable to us, we must put ourselves in the position of the Yotzei Mitzrayim. These were individuals who had lived as slaves for their entire lives, and now were free—their first instinct would be to try and “make something of themselves”. A slave with newfound freedom will be anxious to exercise this autonomy and strike out on his own. Being put in a situation where no amount of effort, cunning, or guile will allow him to achieve more than his allotted share would indeed feel repressive to such a person.
Similarly, the Torah tells us that the feet of the Dor Hamidbar were not cracked and swollen and their clothes did not get worn out, and Chazal explain that this was becaue of the protection offered by the Ananei HaKavod—because they were in essence carried by the Ananim, they did not bear the marks of one who had walked through a desert. Here too, what seems like a dream to us would be difficult for the newly emancipated people: they once again had no choice as to where they went, but were confined to the path dictated by Hashem.
After warning us that we must adhere to Torah and Mitzvos if we wish to stay in Eretz Yisroel, the Torah teaches us an important lesson. There will be times that we look at our own lives, and perhaps even compare our personal plights to those of others, and be dejected: we may think that we are being mistreated, that we have drawn an undue lot in life. Because such thoughts can easily lead one away from the Derech HaTorah, affecting our ability to maintain our Yerushas HaAretz, the Torah tells us to look at the Dor HaMidbar.
Hashem tells us the years of the Midbar were filled with Yissurin, but that they were Yissruin that were tailored to those who received them, as we explained, and as such they were certainly in the category of Mo’il. But, we are also told the purpose of these Yissurin: “L’Nasoscha” which means to test, but also to raise—when a person is tested by Yissurin but withstands the test, clinging to the Torah and Mitzvos despite hardship, he is raised up and brought to unimaginable Madreigos. This type of Yisssurin, the “L’Man Anoscha L’Nasoscha” is undoubtably the ultimate Tov.
We see that these Pessukim are the key to maintaining our Shemiras HaMitzvos in trying times: we must always remember that “Levavecha Ki K’Asher Yiyaser Ish Es Beno, Ken Hashem Elokecha Miyasrecha”, and that whatever we face in life is given to us in a way that is meant to be Tov and Mo’il. The clarity afforded us by this realization can allow us to focus on our central task: “Kol HaMitzvah Asher Anochi Mitzavcha HaYom Tishmirun La’asos”