Rabbi David Ashear
One of the most difficult challenges of emunah comes when a person sacrifices to do something for Hashem, yet he doesn’t see reciprocation. It could be someone who invested hours or days with the hope of performing a certain mitzvah or good deed, but after all his efforts, he was unsuccessful. It could be someone who has been crying and begging Hashem with hundreds of tefillot for health, yet his situation only deteriorated. It could be a person who accepted upon himself extra stringencies and difficult mitzvot with the hope of receiving a salvation for his problem, but after all his efforts, there was still no change.
It is during those times that the person has the opportunity to show that he really loves Hashem. The pasuk says (Mishlei 10:12), love overshadows all iniquities. If a person wants to know whether his love for someone is real, he should ask himself whether, no matter what the other person does to him, his love will remain the same. If the answer is yes, his love is unconditional. When we don’t see the results we wanted, we can tell Hashem, “I’m still going to serve You the best I can, because my love for You is unconditional.” Our people have been able to rise during the most difficult times and serve Hashem with all their heart.
The sefer Ki Atah Imadi records an incident that took place in 1942 in the Kovno ghetto.
A few months before Pesach, a group of people began thinking of how they would be able to fulfill the mitzvah of eating matzah on the Seder night. They barely had enough food in the ghetto to survive; surely, they didn’t have extra flour to bake matzos. The accursed Nazis had guards positioned to ensure that no extra food was brought in from outside.
A man by the name of Moshe Goldkorn, who worked in a place where it was possible to get flour, volunteered to smuggle a little bit every day into the ghetto. As Pesach approached, his joy knew no bounds when he estimated that there was enough flour to bake matzos for 100 people to fulfill the mitzvah with a kezayit.
Two days before the holiday, as he entered the ghetto with the last batch of flour, he was stopped by the guards. They searched his clothing and found the small bag. They yelled at him and beat him for violating their rules. They bruised his entire body and knocked out his teeth.
That night, Moshe came to his Rabbi, Rabbi Ephraim Oshry, and with tears in his eyes, asked, “Please tell me how I can fulfill the mitzvah of eating matzah. I can’t chew, and I don’t want to soak the matzah in water, due to hametz concerns. What should I do?”
The Rabbi was so moved by the question that it was eventually included in his sefer She’eilos U’Teshuvos MiMaamakim (5:6). Here we have a situation where a man gave up so much to fulfill one of the mitzvos of Hashem, and, instead of seeing rewards, he was beaten. He could have easily said, “If this is what I get for sacrificing to do a mitzvah, then I’m not going to do it.” Or he could have said, “Is this the reward I get for all my efforts?” But instead, he said, “Rabbi, help me fulfill the mitzvah. I want to do it so badly!”
How beautiful were those words. How great was his emunah. He had real love for Hashem, and “love overshadows all iniquities.” To be able to cling to Hashem, even when our efforts are seemingly futile, is true greatness. If, despite not seeing reciprocation, a person can continue serving Hashem to the best of his ability, it will elevate him to the highest levels.