One of the ideological challenges that many observant Jews struggle with is the balance between emunah (faith) and hishtadlut (effort). It is clear that a Jew is expected to both believe that Gd determines everything that happens, and also that we are expected to make reasonable effort to care for ourselves and secure our needs. This means that, for example, when the sidewalks are icy, we need to walk very carefully and try not to slip, but whether or not we slip is entirely Gd’s decision.
This balance is not always easy to maintain. Sometimes we wonder whether we are exerting too much effort, or perhaps exerting insufficient effort; if our efforts reflect a deficiency of faith, or if, conversely, we inappropriately use faith to justify irresponsibility and recklessness.
One approach we might take to gain a proper perspective on the relationship between emunah and hishtadlut emerges from the laws of Sukkot, which we recently celebrated.
“Supporting” Emunah
The first Mishnah in Masechet Sukkah establishes that a sukkah higher than 20 amot (around 30-40 feet) is disqualified. One of the reasons given in the Gemara is that in a very tall sukkah, the shade is produced mainly by the walls. The mitzvah of sukkah requires a person to reside in the shade of the sechach, which is the primary component of the sukkah, whereas the walls serve the secondary purpose of supporting the sechach. If a sukkah is very high, the bulk of the shade comes from the walls, and so this sukkah is unfit for the mitzvah.
The Aruch La’ner (Rav Yaakov Ettlinger, Germany, 1798-1871) uncovers for us the deeper meaning of this halachah. The sechach, situated above our heads, represents Gd’s providence that hovers over us and protects us at every moment. It must be made from vegetation that grew on its own, without having been processed through human creativity, because it symbolizes Gd’s exclusive control over our lives, how He alone cares for us. The sturdy walls that we build, by contrast, represent human industriousness, the hard work and effort that we invest to responsibly care for ourselves and our families.
The relationship between the walls and the sechach, the Aruch La’ner explains, shows us the relationship that ought to exist between emunah and hishtadlut. Just as a sukkah requires walls, Jewish life requires effort and initiative. However, our efforts play only a “supporting role.” For reasons we cannot understand, Gd invited us to work as His partners in caring for ourselves and developing the world. But the real care and protection come from the sechach, not the walls; what determines the final outcome is not our efforts, but Gd’s will.
A person sitting in a sukkah must be under the shade of the shechach, and not the shade of the walls. Likewise, when we go through life, we must see ourselves as under the care and protection of Gd, not of ourselves. We are required to “build walls” – but we must live with realization that it is the “sechach” – divine providence – that is watching over us and providing us with everything we have.
How do we know if we’re doing this right? How can we determine whether we’re sitting in the “shade” of the “sechach,” fully trusting in Gd, or sitting in the “shade” of the “walls,” relying on our own efforts?
To answer the question, we turn to the story of Avraham Avinu, which we read this month.
Avraham’s Faith
Gd appeared to Avraham and commanded to him to relocate, to move to a new land. The Torah tells that Avraham promptly complied, and it then finds it necessary to add that Avraham was 75 years old when he left his home to live in the Land of Israel (Beresheet 12:4).
We must ask, why is this information important? How is Avraham’s age significant to understanding this story?
Some rabbis answered that this number in fact contains what is likely the most crucial lesson of Avraham’s obeying Gd’s command to leave his homeland.
This number is the gematria of the Hebrew word bitahon, which is used in reference to our trust in Gd. The Torah is not simply telling us Avraham’s age when he left his homeland – it is telling us Avraham’s attitude and mindset when he left his homeland.
Gd told Avraham to go “to the land that I will show you” (“el ha’aretz asher ar’eka” – 12:1). Avraham was not even told where he was going. Not only did he have no idea what the future would bring in his new home, he did not even know where that home would be. He knew absolutely nothing except that Gd told him to go – and this was enough for him. He left with complete bitahon – trust that Gd would care for him and fulfill His promises.
But the connection between the number 75 and bitahon runs even deeper.
There are two questions that people ask when they lack faith in Gd – questions which we’ve all heard people ask many times, and which, unfortunately, we ourselves have probably asked. The first is “Why?” When people’s plans fail to produce the desired results, when things do not work out the way they wanted, when they face hardship and adversity, their instinctive response is “Why did this happen? Why can’t things just work out? Why can’t I have an easier time? Why does this need to be so difficult?”
A person asks “Why?” only if he trusts himself, rather than Gd. If we live with true faith, if our emunah is intact, then we have no need to ask “Why?” The fact that Hashem willed it is enough for us. It might be difficult, it might be painful, but we trust that Gd decided this should happen, and He knows far better than we do what’s best.
The second question that should not be asked, but people so often ask, is “What’s going to be?” People worry about the future only because they feel the outcome depends on them, and they thus feel anxious about things they cannot control. When we live with emunah, we understand that Gd is taking care of the future for us, so we do not need to wonder or fret about what tomorrow might or might not bring.
Remarkably, the Hebrew word “lamah” – “why” – in gematria equals 75. As does the phrase “Mah yiheyeh” – “What is going to be?”
The response to both these questions is “bitahon.” This word equals 75 because it counteracts the instinctive thoughts of “Lamah” and “Mah yiheyeh.”
Avraham was 75 – meaning, he never asked these questions. When he set out on his journey to the unknown, he did not ask, “Mah yiheyeh?” When famine struck the land soon after his arrival, forcing him to move to Egypt to survive, where his wife was abducted, he did not ask, “Lamah?” When he and Sarah had no children for many years after Gd promised that he would father a great nation, he asked neither “Why?” or “What’s going to be?” He did what he needed to do, and calmly left everything in Gd’s capable hands.
How do we know if we are managing the emunah/hishtadlut balance correctly? By whether or not we ask these two questions. If we find ourselves frustrated by things that happen which we wish did not happen, asking “Why?” or if we find ourselves anxious and uneasy about the future, wondering, “What’s going to be?” then we likely need to recalibrate our perspective. We need to remind ourselves that although we must act responsibly, the outcome depends only on Gd, who is orchestrating events precisely the way they ought to be orchestrated.
When Gd is “Against” Us
In one of the most famous verses in Tehillim (16:8), King David proclaims, “Shiviti Hashem lenegdi tamid – I have placed Gd opposite me, always.” This verse famously establishes the requirement to always sees oneself in Gd’s presence, to realize that Gd watches His behavior at all times, and holds him accountable for his actions.
However, I once heard a powerful insight into this verse from one of our generation’s greatest Torah luminaries, Rav Gamliel Rabinowitz of Jerusalem. The word “negdi” can mean “opposite me” – that is to say, “in front of me” – but can also mean “against me.” This verse affirms our unwavering faith in Gd even when He appears to work against us, when He foils our plans, when He obstructs the path we embarked upon, when He does not allow our efforts to yield their intended results.
Emunah is relatively easy when we see Gd helping things work out the way we wanted; when the person is fired and then finds a better job, when a promising shidduch does not work out but then a much better one comes along and does. The challenge of emunah is trusting in Gd when we don’t see things working out, when we cannot understand, when our minds cannot interpret events in any way other than “negdi,” as Gd working against us.
This is when we need to harness the power of emunah of our ancestor, Avraham Avinu. As we read this week in Parashat Lech-Lecha, “Ve’he’emin be’Hashem” – Avraham believed in Gd (Beresheet 15:6). This has been explained to mean not only that Avraham believed, but that he bequeathed this belief to us, his descendants. Avraham implanted within our people’s spiritual DNA the ability to trust Gd even under the direst circumstances, even when we encounter the most difficult hardships, even when we cannot possibly see how Gd is helping us.
Just imagine how our lives would look if we never asked, “Why did this happen?” or “What’s going to be?” Imagine how much calmer and happier we would be if we remain calm and composed when things don’t work out the way we want, when people don’t treat us or speak to us the way we want, when life does not proceed according to our plans – because we know that it’s proceeding according to Gd’s plan, which is always the best plan.