Weekly Inspire

Rabbi Joey Haber

Weekly ethical messages and lessons curated from the Parasha orated by Rabbi Joey Haber

  1. 16h ago

    Tough as Iron

    A man once approached me for advice regarding the following sticky situation that he found himself in. He was exceptionally wealthy, and he had three brothers who were not. For a long time, he was giving his three brothers collectively $1 million every year to help them out. He was able to afford it, except that as his kids were getting older, he wanted to buy them homes and start businesses for them, and did not have enough. He asked me what he should do, as he did not want to create problems with his brothers. This question touches upon a very important issue – the limits of the quality of ותרנות , more commonly called "being mevater " – giving in, foregoing, sacrificing to accommodate others in the interest of avoiding conflict and of being generous. There are many sources in the Gemara that talk about the great importance and great power of this quality. For example, the Gemara in Masechet Rosh Hashanah (17a) tells that Rav Huna Bereh De'Rabbi Yehoshua took very ill and was about to die, but he was allowed to continue living in the merit of this quality, of not being uncompromisingly insistent. Elsewhere (Ta'anit 20b), we learn that Rav Ada bar Ahava earned long life because, in his words, מימי לא הקפדתי בתוך ביתי – he never got angry at his family members, and always let things go. Countless stories are told of people who sought advice from great Torah sages regarding problems and challenges they faced, and the recommendation was to work on this particular character trait, to "be mevater ," to give in, to let go of hard feelings, to keep quiet, to not respond, to sacrifice for the sake of maintaining a peaceful relationship. But are there limits to this quality? Or is a person expected to turn himself into a doormat and let people take advantage of him, for the sake of peace? The Gemara answers this question very clearly toward the beginning of Masechet Ta'anit (4a). The Gemara cites a pasuk in Parashat Ekev (8:9) where Moshe Rabbenu describes the Land of Israel as ארץ אשר אבניה ברזל – "a land whose stones are iron." Clearly, stones are not iron. The Gemara therefore rereads this pasuk to mean, ארץ אשר בוניה ברזל – "a land whose builders are iron." The term "builders," the Gemara explains, refers to Torah scholars, who form the spiritual foundation of the Jewish People. The Gemara says that this pasuk is teaching that a Torah scholar must be קשה כברזל – "hard as iron." In order to accomplish, in order to lead, in order to firmly adhere to one's values and principles, one needs to be tough as nails. Of course, when it is appropriate to "be mevater ," one should certainly do so. If a friend or family member makes a comment we don't like, we should remain silent. If there's some disagreement over a relatively trivial matter, we should give in. If some issue arises that potentially puts the entire relationship at stake, then very often, the right thing to do is give in. But this does mean that a person should let himself be abused and taken advantage of. There are times when a person needs the strength and courage to stand up for himself, to not let things continue the way they are if they cause him harm or pain. If a friend continually speaks insultingly, then the right thing to do is end the friendship. If generously giving money to one's siblings prevents him from helping his children, he needs to have the strength to change the arrangement. If a devoted teacher spends so much time talking to and helping his students that he doesn't have time for his own children, then he needs to set limits. Immediately after teaching that a Torah scholar must be קשה כברזל , the Gemara then adds: אפילו הכי מיבעי ליה לאיניש למילף נפשיה בניחותא – "Nevertheless, a person needs to accustom himself to [speak] softly." At times a person needs to be tough and set limits – but this should be done gently, respectfully, without anger and resentment. There is no contradiction between קשה כברזל and ניחותא , between the strength and courage to change the situation, and remaining calm and avoiding hostility in the process of making that change. This was my advice to the man who was giving his brothers money every year. I recommended that he gently explain to them that he is happy to help them, and they should never hesitate to ask if something comes up and they need some extra money, but that he simply cannot continue the current arrangement. We must live with the feeling that every day is important, rife with possibilities, and full of opportunities to achieve. Therefore, we need to live each day with decisiveness, with leadership, with courage, with strength. We need to fight – not against people, but against situations that stifle us, that hold us back from maximizing our potential and living our best lives. And this fight often takes strength, and requires us to be קשה כברזל – not nasty, not rude, not angry, not bitter, but tough as iron. We are to be both tough and soft – tough enough to overcome the obstacles that stand in our way and to make the difficult changes that need to be made, but soft enough to do it gently and respectfully, without inviting animosity.

  2. Jul 23

    Humility & Marriage

    In one of the more famous pesukim in the Torah, Moshe Rabbenu tells the people in Parashat Va'et'hanan (4:4), ואתם הדבקים בה' אלוקיכם חיים כולכם היום – "And you, who are attached to Hashem your G-d, are all alive today." One of the commentaries offers us insight into the pasuk by noting that the gematria (numerical value) of the word חיים ("alive") is 68, which is twice the gematria of the word דל , which means "impoverished" or "lowly." Only a person who is exceptionally דל – humble, with "double" humility – can achieve the level of דבקים בה' אלוקיכם , of being "attached" to Hashem. When a person lives with extreme humility, recognizing his frailty, his weaknesses, his faults, his unworthiness, and his dependence on Hashem for everything, then he is constantly connected to Hashem. He is at all times acknowledging all that Hashem has done for him, thanking Hashem for everything he has, and praying to Hashem for everything that he needs. And when a person reaches this level, then he is truly חיים – "alive." Many people intuitively think that they are more "alive" and successful when they are self-assured and aggressive in pursuing what they want. The Torah is teaching us that to the contrary, a key to a happy, fulfilling life is "double" humility, submitting to Hashem's will and placing Hashem at the center of everything. If a person lives for himself, only for his own gratification and enjoyment, rather than for the higher purpose of serving Hashem, then his life is empty and lacks meaning. There is another pasuk in the Torah where we find the root דבק – "attached," and that is in the Torah's description of marriage: על כן יעזוב איש את אביו ואת אמו ו דבק באשתו – "Therefore, a man leaves his father and mother and attaches to his wife" (Bereshit 2:24). In marriage – like in one's relationship with Hashem – "attachment" requires humility and selfless devotion. ודבק באשתו means creation a deep, genuine emotional bond, and this cannot happen without selflessness. It requires listening, accepting, acknowledging, validating, understanding, and being flexible. All of these qualities demand humility, putting one's own ego and one's own interests to the side in order to make room for somebody else's needs. This week marks Tu B'Av, the day which the Mishnah (Ta'anit 26b) says was one of the two most joyous days of the year. It was a day when the unmarried girls would go out into the vineyards, and the young men would come and shidduchim were made. The Mishnah tells that the girls would all wear borrowed dresses, so that those from poor families would not feel embarrassed. One of the commentaries pointed out that this arrangement ensured that the girls would not feel overly proud. When people borrow clothing, they feel somewhat less comfortable and proud of themselves. When people are preparing for marriage, one of the most important qualities is humility. If a person is too consumed with himself, if a person is too self-absorbed, then he cannot take someone else's feelings, needs, wishes and preferences into account, and the marriage is not likely to be a happy one. Marriage is about דביקות , attachment, and this requires selflessness. When a husband and wife succeed in building that attachment, then they can be said to be truly חיים – "alive," with joy and vitality, connected in a way that brings unparalleled fulfillment and happiness.

  3. Jul 16

    Curing the Loneliness

    Many people, understandably, are confused about what the period of Ben Ha'metzarim – the Three Weeks from Shivah Asar Ba'Tammuz through Tisha B'Av – is all about. We observe certain mourning practices, and abstain from a number of activities, culminating with Tisha B'Av, when we fast, sit on the floor, and mourn. What is the purpose of this mourning if we then just resume our normal routines? What's the value of "losing" three weeks of fun during the summer? Why is this necessary? The answer is likely found in the opening verses of Megilat Echah , the collection of lamentations written by the prophet Yirmiyahu after the destruction of the Bet Ha'mikdash , which we read on Tisha B'Av. This Megillah begins: איכה ישבה בדד, העיר רבתי עם היתה כאלמנה.. בכו תבכה בלילה ודמעתה על לחיה אין לה מנחם מכל אוהביה... דרכי ציון אבלות מבלי באי מועד כל שעריה שוממין... How does she [Jerusalem] dwell alone, the city with so many people? She has become like a widow… She cries intensely at night, and her tear is on her cheek; she has no one from all her loved ones to console her… The roads of Zions are in mourning, without anyone coming for the holidays; all its gates are desolate… These opening pesukim clearly emphasize one theme: loneliness. The city that was once teeming with people is now alone, desolate, empty. It is like a widow, who lies alone, without anyone to wipe her tears, to bring her comfort. When people are hurting, the pain is made so much more intense by the feeling of loneliness, by having no one who understands, who commiserates, who provides emotional support. Our job when a friend or family friend is hurting is to make sure that person doesn't feel alone. If there is practical assistance that we can provide, then of course we should try to provide it. But if not, this doesn't mean we can't help. We can – and must – help by showing up, by being there, by calling, by reminding the person that he or she is not alone. This does not mean we are to be sad around the clock when somebody close with us is hurting. We can still enjoy and live a happy life. But we have to make sure that this person does not feel alone. Our Sages teach us that as long as the Bet Ha'mikdash remains unbuilt, Hashem Himself is in exile. He does not have His home, so-to-speak. It is as though Hashem is in pain. And this is what the Three Weeks, the Nine Days, and Tisha B'Av are all about – making sure Hashem is not "alone." During these weeks, we need to show Him that we care, that we have not forgotten about Him, that we understand that things aren't the way they're supposed to be, that He's "suffering." Different occasions on the Jewish calendar require us to connect to Hashem in different ways. The period we are in now requires us to connect to Hashem by feeling His pain, by sharing in His sadness, by showing that we are not indifferent to the "exile" of the Shechinah . One of the commentaries suggested an analogy to a businessman who did everything he could to help his sons and secure their financial future. He bought them homes and gave them money so they could jumpstart their own businesses, borrowing money against his own enterprise. The business couldn't keep up, and he ended up going bankrupt and struggling to repay his debts. One day, his friend saw him sitting and crying. The friend sat down next to him to offer some comfort. "It's not just that I lost all my money," the man said through the tears. "It's that my sons no longer talk to me. I did all this for them, I sacrificed all this for them, and they're not even in touch. That pain is just too much to bear." The pasuk describes Yerushalayim's weeping with the words בכו תבכה , as though there are two different types of crying. Hashem "cries" because He is in exile, but also because His children don't care. Hashem has done so much for us, and we benefit from His blessings each and every day, just like the sons of the man in the story. The period of the Three Weeks is the time to show Him that we care, that we feel His pain, and that we are ready to do what we can to heal it. May we all rise to the occasion and be worthy of the rebuilding of the Bet Ha'mikdash and the return of the Shechinah , אמן .

  4. Jul 9

    When Your Head Exaggerates

    A couple once came to me for advice, explaining that they have several children who are older and still not married. "We're embarrassed to go anywhere," they said. "We know that everyone's looking at us, everyone's feeling sorry for us and talking about what's wrong with us and our children." My response to them was clear and simple. I said: "Get it out of your head. No one's looking at you or talking about you. You're making yourselves upset and anxious for no reason. Go out and enjoy. Stop worrying about what other people are thinking or saying. They have their own problems to worry about. They're not talking about you." I explained that any normal adult who's been through life knows that some folks have a harder time than others – in shidduchim and in everything else. Any normal believing Jew knows that Hashem decides who should get married when, and we do not know and are not supposed to know how He decides these things. So many of the things we worry about, that hold us back and that weigh us down, are simply nonsense. Ideas that our imagination came up with but have no basis in reality. Parashat Maseh begins by listing the 42 places where Beneh Yisrael encamped over the course of their journey from Egypt until their final encampment before crossing into the Land of Israel, a list compiled and recorded by Moshe Rabbenu himself. For the most part, these verses just tell us that Beneh Yisrael journeyed from location X and encamped in location Y. The Torah does not tell us the events they experienced at these locations – not Matan Torah , not the war with Amalek, not the spies. There are, however, a few very unusual exceptions. We are told that in a place called Elim, the people found wellsprings and palm trees. We are told that in Refidim, the people didn't have water. We are told that Aharon Ha'kohen died in Hor Ha'har, at which point the Canaanites were able to attack, because the protective "clouds of glory" which shielded them in Aharon's merit were lost. Why did Moshe choose to mention this small handful of events, while omitting the more major events, such as Matan Torah , the sin of the golden calf, and the sin of the spies? Moshe was showing the people that there were times throughout their travels when they were scared, when they felt vulnerable and insecure, but everything turned out ok. They went into a desert, wondering where they would find water and food – and then they saw that Hashem prepared for them springs and date trees. They later came to a place with no water -and Hashem showed Moshe a rock which he struck, and which then miraculously produced water for the next forty years. When they lost their protective clouds, the Canaanite army attacked, but Hashem helped them and they defeated their enemies. Indeed, Rashi cites the Midrash as comparing Moshe to a father whose son was very ill, and needed treatment far away. On their way back home, the father recalled what happened at every stop along the way – the place where the boy had a fever, where he suffered from extreme pain, and so on. Moshe was showing Beneh Yisrael – and us – that they faced many different challenges over the course of these forty years, but it turned out ok. The situation was not always pleasant, but it always worked out in the end. This is an exercise that we all could – and should – do from time to time: to think about the times when we were very scared, when we were very anxious, when we were very upset, when we were very down, when we were very dejected, and then realize how the situation was somehow resolved. Even if it wasn't resolved exactly the way we would have ideally wanted, we managed. We were ok. When we feel anxious, more often than not, it's because our head exaggerates, turning the problem into something far bigger than it really is, and it imagines things that don't exist. We need to remember that Hashem has always helped us in the past, and He will help us now with whatever it is we're struggling with. Even if things don't turn out the way we want them to, they will turn out ok – because Hashem is in charge.

  5. Jul 2

    Strength, Courage, and Pride

    Parashat Pinhas continues the story that we began reading at the end of the previous parashah , Parashat Balak. After Bilam was unsuccessful in his attempt to place a curse upon Beneh Yisrael , he suggested to the king of Moav a different tactic for destroying them – to send the women of Moav and Midyan to lure Beneh Yisrael to immorality and idol-worship. Tragically, the plan worked. Hashem delivered a plague that killed 24,000 men among Beneh Yisrael who sinned with the women of Moav and Midyan. The plague stopped only when Pinhas – the grandson of Aharon Ha'kohen – stood up and killed two public violators, a man from Beneh Yisrael and a woman from Midyan. At the beginning of our parashah , the Torah names these two people whom Pinhas killed – Zimri, a leader of the tribe of the Shimon; and Kozbi, the daughter of a leader of Midyan. When naming the man who was killed, the Torah says: ושם איש ישראל המוכה אשר הוכה את המדינית – "And the name of the slain man from Yisrael , who was slain together with the Midyanite..." (25:14). The Keli Yakar points out that the Torah here twice mentions that Zimri was killed: איש ישראל המוכה אשר הוכה . This seems unnecessarily repetitive, as though Zimri was killed twice. The explanation might be that Zimri was already "dead" even before Pinhas killed him – because, despite his position of leadership, he went along with the crowd, he followed the tide. Rather than muster the strength to oppose the scandalous behavior – like Pinhas did – Zimri decided to go along with it, to participate, to be "one of the guys." When a person lacks the courage to stand up for his values and principles, if he is just swept away by the current, he surrenders his individuality. He loses his "life" – his uniqueness, his purpose and his mission. How did Pinhas muster this strength and courage? Where did he find the inner resolve and conviction to go against the tide? The answer is found in the way the Torah introduces Pinhas: פינחס בן אלעזר בן אהרון הכהן – "Pinhas, the son of Elazar, the son of Aharon Ha'kohen." Rashi, at the beginning of our parsha , writes that the Torah here is emphasizing Pinhas' distinguished lineage. The people were questioning Pinhas' right to do such an act, since his maternal grandfather was an idol-worshipper. Hashem therefore emphasized that Pinhas was also the grandson of Aharon, the great tzadik . Pinhas felt pride in his family background, in his belonging to a family of righteous people. The rest of the nation was acting one way – but he was too proud in who he was, in what his family stood for, to participate. This pride is what gave him the strength and the courage to resist the tide. Parents need to ensure that their children take pride in their family's "brand," in what their family represents. In order to resist the social pressures that they will, undoubtedly, face, they need this sense of pride to anchor them in place, to help them set firm, inviolable boundaries, to know that there are things they don't do, places they don't go, and activities they don't get involved in. And parents engender this pride by making it clear what their "brand" is, what their family is about, what they stand for, and what values they hold dear.

  6. Jun 25

    The Water is Already There

    A community businessman once told me his fascinating story. His business was very successful, at one point supplying more goods to Target than any other company. At that time, 70 percent of his business came from Target. Then, one day, out of the blue, another company that supplied to Target decided that they would continue selling to Target only if Target purchased other goods from them, too. Target had no choice but to purchase for them. And thus one morning, this fellow received a phone call that 70 percent of his business was gone. That day, his father, who would come to his office from time to time, was there. His father noticed that he was upset. The son explained to him that the business could not possibly survive this. "Let me ask you just one question," the father said. "Is this problem bigger than Hashem?" The man told me that this simple question changed his entire attitude. He realized that his father was right. This problem, like every other problem, was not too difficult for Hashem to solve. Within a few short years, this fellow said, the business was doing far better than it did when Target was buying from them. Indeed, no problem is bigger than Hashem. With this story in mind, let us turn our attention to the story of Moshe hitting the rock. After Moshe's sister, Miriam, passed away, the miraculous well which accompanied Beneh Yisrael and provided water in her merit, stopped flowing. The people complained to Moshe, and Hashem commanded him to assemble the people and bring water from the well by speaking to it. As everyone knows, Moshe struck the stone instead of speaking to it, for which he was punished. Among the many difficulties with this story is the fact that when Hashem commanded Moshe to assemble the people, He told Moshe to take his staff. Even though Moshe was to speak to the rock, and not hit the rock, he was told to bring his stick. Why? The Hatam Sofer explained that Hashem was presenting to Moshe two options. The first option was to recognize that the water was already in the rock – just as it had been for forty years until Miriam's passing, to realize that Hashem was ready and prepared to provide everything the people needed, and Moshe had to just say the word. The other option was to feel the need to scrape and claw, to work hard to extract water. The contemporary parallel between these two options are the different perspectives people have towards parnasah (livelihood). Some people, like the businessman described earlier, recognize that the water is already there, that Hashem has the berachah ready for us, He is taking care of us, He has an infinite number of ways to provide us with our needs. Others, however, live in a constant state of anxiety about the "water," wondering where it's going to come from. They feel the need to "strike the rock," to fret and to work extra hard to obtain more and more money. Moshe's mistake, according to the Hatam Sofer , was assuming that the people were not ready for the first option. He decided – incorrectly – that the people needed to see the rock being struck, because they did not have sufficient faith in Hashem. So many young men in our community – and throughout the Orthodox Jewish world – are very nervous about how they are going to support a family. I speak to so many boys preparing to get married, and they express their concerns about affording Orthodox Jewish life. I tell them that in order to get married they need to ensure to have enough income for the present, and the potential to grow. They don't need to have enough money for tuition and a house right away. They need enough for the immediate future, and the potential for growth – and then they can trust in Hashem for the rest. We can spare ourselves a lot of unnecessary anxiety by remember that the water is always there, Hashem is ready to provide us with what we need. Yes, we are going to encounter difficult times, like Beneh Yisrael did, when the "well dries," when we lose the big account or big customer, when the future is uncertain. And when this happens, we need to remember that no problem is bigger than Hashem, that He can and will take care of us in the future just as He did until now. With this mindset, we can live joyfully and contentedly, without the worry and aggravation that weighs so many people down. Hashem provided us with the "water" needed until now – and He will continue doing so in the future, as well.

  7. Jun 18

    Withdrawing & Rising

    The Gemara (Sanhedrin 93a) tells the story of two false Jewish prophets who lived during the time of the Babylonian King Nevuchadnetzar. The king accused them of prophesying falsely, and decreed that they should be thrown into a furnace. He said that if they were real prophets, then they would miraculously survive, just as three righteous Jews – Hananya, Mishael and Azarya – had previously emerged unscathed from the furnace. The two prophets argued that the merit of three righteous men exceeds that of just two, and so this trial was unfair. Nevuchadnetzar allowed them to choose a third person with whom to be cast into the furnace, and they selected the tzadik Yehoshua Kohen Gadol, hoping that his merit would protect them. The three was thrown into the furnace – and Yehoshua miraculously survived, while the two prophets perished. However, Yehoshua's garment was burned by the fire. Yehoshua was asked why his clothes were burned, whereas Avraham Avinu, when he was thrown into a furnace many centuries earlier, emerged completely unscathed, without even his garments being ruined. Yehoshua answered that since he was in the furnace together with two wicked people, the fire was given permission to consume, and so his garments were burned. Avraham, by contrast, was thrown into the furnace alone, and so the fire was not granted the power to consume anything. This story is teaching us a sobering but important truth: when we are in bad company, we get "burned" to some extent. Even if we succeed in "surviving," in maintaining our beliefs and values, we are likely to be affected. Let us take the example of a person who works with people who routinely use foul, vulgar language. He will, hopefully, "survive," and manage to refrain from speaking the way they do – but he will probably end up using words that he should not use; his standards are likely to be compromised in some way. After Korah and his followers challenged Moshe Rabbenu, launching an audacious uprising against Moshe's authority, Hashem told Moshe and Aharon, הבדלו מתוך העדה הזאת – that they must "separate," or withdraw, from this evil group of people, and Hashem would destroy them (16:21). Later, after Korah and his men were killed, the people continued protesting and arguing, and so Hashem commanded Moshe and Aharon, הרמו מתוך העדה הזאת – to "lift" themselves out of this nation, and He would destroy them. Aharon eventually saved the nation by bringing an incense offering. What's important for our purposes is the distinction between these two terms – הבדלו and הרמו . When possible, we are advised to "separate," to withdraw. Sometimes, there is a small group of people that we don't need to be with, or a small event that we don't need to attend. We need to have the conviction to withdraw, to refuse to go where we shouldn't go, to refuse to be in the company of people who pull us down, who cause us to be "burned" in one way or another. But sometimes withdrawing isn't an option. We all have people and settings that we cannot avoid, that are always going to be part of our lives – such as family members or coworkers. Regarding these, the Torah commands us: הרמו . We need to lift ourselves, to have the courage and confidence to keep ourselves high even when others are trying to pull us down. We do not need to be the product of our surroundings, or even be influenced by our surroundings. We have the capacity to lift ourselves above what is going on around us. The Midrash famously comments that the ארבע מינים – the four species we hold on Sukkot – represent the four different kinds of Jews. The etrog , with its delicious taste and pleasant fragrance, symbolizes the righteous person who both studies Torah and performs good deeds. The aravah , which features neither taste nor scent, symbolizes the Jew with neither Torah nor good deeds to his credit. The hadas branch has a fragrant scent but bears no fruit, while the lulav (palm branch) produces luscious dates but has no aroma – symbolizing those Jews who learn but do not perform mitzvot , or who perform mitzvot but do not learn. We bring the four species together to symbolize unity, the harmonious blending of the many different types of Jews. Significantly, however, while the lulav , aravot and hadasim are bound together, the etrog stands apart. It is held closely with the other three species – but is not tied with them. This shows that to be an " etrog " – to achieve greatness – we sometimes need to stand alone, to withdraw, to rise above. The etrog is held together with the other three species because the righteous person must, on the one hand, stand together with the rest of the people, without snobbery or elitism. However, on the other hand, the etrog remains separate – because one cannot be an " etrog " without occasionally pulling away from those who might keep him down. May Hashem give us the strength we need to withdraw when we need to, and to elevate ourselves when we need to, so we can continue to grow and achieve without anyone or anything ever stopping us.

  8. Jun 11

    A Vulnerable Moment is a Powerful Moment

    The spies were sent to Eretz Yisrael to find out about the land and then report their findings to the people. And this is exactly what they did. They told the people about the extraordinary quality of the land's produce, how it is a land "flowing with milk and honey." And they also told the people about the nations who lived in the land – about their very large, well-trained militaries, and about the enormous, fortified walls protecting their cities. So why were the spies punished? If they saw that the nations in Eretz Yisrael were too powerful, that they could not be defeated, then why were they wrong for sharing this information? Wasn't this exactly their job? A number of commentators explain that the very purpose of this scouting mission was for the meragelim (spies) to see that it was humanly impossible to conquer Eretz Yisrael , that the inhabitants were too powerful, that Beneh Yisrael could not prevail without Hashem's help. The goal was to enhance the people's bitahon , their trust in Hashem, to reinforce their awareness of their reliance of G-d's assistance. The meragelim were to come back with greater bitahon , not less. They were to come back with greater enthusiasm, with greater positivity, not with negativity and discouragement. The point of this mission was to make the people feel vulnerable – because moments of vulnerability are powerful moments, moments when a person can reinforce his faith and trust in Hashem, and feel closer to Him than ever before. Tragically, the meraglim did just the opposite. This is why Hashem punished the people for their sin – listening to the spies and deciding that they could not enter the land – by spending forty years in the desert. For forty years, they lived in an area where naturally a person is incapable of living. For forty years, they lived under Hashem's miraculous care and protection – to build their bitahon . When we confront a difficult reality, when we feel hopeless, when we feel lost, when our lives or the world seems completely out of control and upside-down – this is a powerful moment of vulnerability. This is a time for us to let go, to reaffirm our belief that Hashem controls the world, that nothing is random, that everything is under His control. We read in Sefer Bereshit (21:14) that after Abraham Abinu sent away Hagar, ותלך ותתע במדבר באר שבע – she got lost in the desert. Rashi explains this pasuk to mean that Hagar worshipped idols. The pasuk does not seem to say anything about idol-worship, but somehow, Rashi understood that this is what it means. The explanation is that when a person feels "lost," this shows a deficiency in his emunah , in his faith in Hashem. If we truly believed that Hashem controls everything, then we will never feel "lost" under any circumstances. No matter how chaotic the world seems, no matter what life throws at us, no matter how uncertain the future appears – we will feel calm and reassured, recognizing that everything is under control. We must try to live with this sense of calmness and serenity. We should not be wasting our time or emotional energy trying to figure out what is going to happen, what the future will bring, how events will unfold. The future is G-d's problem, not our problem. Our responsibility is to do our best in the present, and to leave the rest to Him.

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Weekly ethical messages and lessons curated from the Parasha orated by Rabbi Joey Haber