Diaspora Yeshiva Toras Yisrael | Mount Zion, Jerusalem
January 19th, 2025 / 19th of Teives, 5785
At the end of Parshas Shemos [the Torah portion called Exodus], Moshe complains to Hashem [G-d]:
“You sent me to take the Jews out of Egypt, but all I’ve done is make matters worse for them. Their slavery is now harder than before. Before, they had to produce a hefty quota of bricks every day, but now, they have to produce the same amount plus find the straw with which to do it!
Why have You made things worse for this people?” demands Moshe. “Why did You send me? And since I’ve come to Pharaoh to speak in Your Name, You’ve only harmed this people. You did not rescue Your people!”
In Parshas Va’era, Hashem responds that He is the Master of Mercy [see chapter, “Master of Mercy“] and surely intends for the good. Hashem then adds: “I appeared to Avraham [Abraham], Yitzchak [Isaac], and Yaakov [Jacob] as Keil Shakai [Eil Shaddai, which we do not pronounce], but with My Name, Hashem [Yud-Kay-Vav-Kay, the Shem Havaya, which we do not pronounce], I did not make Myself known to them.”
Rashi explains: Keil Shakai—I promised, and each time, I said that I am Keil Shakai. Not that I did not make My Name known to them, but rather, I was not known to them by My trait of truthfulness—the Shem Havaya, Who fulfills His word, because to the Avos [Patriarchs], I promised but did not fulfill.
Why did Hashem need to make promises to the Avos? Hashem wanted to redeem the Children of Israel and give them the Land of Israel—He can fulfill His will whether He promises beforehand or not. If so, what purpose did His promise serve? Could it be that the promise was just to show that Hashem does not go back on His word? If the main part of the promise is its fulfillment, why make it? Better just to do the act and not promise in the first place.
Rav Yerucham Levovitz (Daas Torah I, Be’urim, Va’era) answers that herein lies one of the secrets of Creation: Hashem’s promise is an attribute in and of itself, with a unique Holy Name—Keil Shakai. This Holy Name exists eternally, with no connection whatsoever to the results that stem from promises made through it. The proof of this is that the Exodus, which was the result of the promise of Keil Shakai, was brought about through a different Name of Hashem, the Shem Havaya.
In short, there are two forms of Hashem’s direction of the world: Keil Shakai and Shem Havaya. The first is G-d’s promise to the Avos that they would receive Eretz Yisrael [The Land of Israel], and the second is the actualization of the promise—the redemption from slavery and the Jews’ entry into Eretz Yisrael.
Rav Yerucham (ibid. pg. 54) explains that the midda [attribute] of Keil Shakai is not simply the means to the fulfillment. It has intrinsic value. The promise that the Avos received was not like a promise we make to a friend. For us, a promise means, “When the time comes, I’ll do such-and-such,” but as the promise is being made, all these words convey is a future intent.
The promise of Hashem has a different purpose. His promise is reality, as Rashi states (Lech Lecha 17:1): “What is the attribute of Keil Shakai? I am the One whose G-dliness is enough for every creature.” Meaning, Hashem’s promise is enough, and more than enough, for any creature to rely on. And why? Because the promise is the first step to its fulfillment. The promise is like a wall, giving the most concrete protection to the fulfillment that will come. The first stage of fulfillment is the promise itself—this is fulfillment in its potential state, and fulfillment is the second phase, the actual state, when we see the promise realized.
Not only is the promise of Keil Shakai certain in the most concrete way, and the Shem Havaya is the fulfillment, but the phase of fulfillment actually needs the phase of promise. If the promise doesn’t come first, the fulfillment won’t come either, because the actual state derives from the potential state.
Why is this?
Every morning at the beginning of p’sukei d’zimra we say, “Blessed is He who speaks and does.” What do we mean by saying that Hashem “speaks?” Speaking is a form of communication between people, but what does this have to do with Hashem? And why put the two ideas together, that Hashem speaks and does?
Explains Rav Yerucham (Daas Torah I, Be’urim, Va’era, page 56): the Sages [Zohar, cited by Avnei Eliyahu on the words Baruch Sheamar] called speaking “chachma” [wisdom] and doing “bina” [understanding].
“Speaking” here does not refer to mere verbal communication—it is one of the Ten Sefiros through which the world was founded. It follows that chachma is part of the potential state, and bina part of the actual state.
Bina stems from chachma and could not be possible without chachma, and here too it is correct to say that the future is inherent within the present, only it is in a potential and not actual state. This world is like the tree that gives fruit, meaning its reality is one of growth and development, but the real fruit, the phase of the fruit itself, comes only in the next world, as it states in Yishaya [Isaiah] (3:10): “Tell [each] righteous man that it is good, for they shall eat the fruit of their deeds.”
This phase is the culmination of perfection. It is the secret of the creation, to be revealed at the end of days. Until that time, everything exists in the manner of “speaking,” the potential phase from which the actual phase of the future stems. This is what Rav Yerucham said.
On a deeper level, Hashem meant that He did not show the Avos the revelation of His glory, because the phase of fulfillment is the phase of revelation of Hashem, when we see that there is nothing besides Him. This will take place in full at the end of days, but there are many levels to this revelation, and some we have seen already. For example, the miracle of Chanuka, in which all saw how “many were delivered into the hands of the few.” Then, it was undeniable that Hashem was overseeing all the affairs of the world.
Torah study is another form of revelation of Hashem in the world, and so was the Exodus from Egypt. All fulfillments of promises are phases in the revelation of Hashem’s glory, but in the future will come the complete revelation. On that day, Hashem will be one and His Name will be one. All will recognize Hashem in every element of the creation. Only then will Hashem truly be the One who does, as opposed to the One who speaks.
Let’s get into this more deeply. The Gemara [Talmud] comments (Nidda 45b) on the verse that Hashem built [ויבן] the rib of Adam Harishon [the first man], that this means “Hashem put bina into the woman more than the man.” This teaches that bina is the actualization of chachma. Now, based on what the Sages taught us above, that bina stems from chachma, if the woman is more bina than man, it means that she is more at the level of actualization than the man.
On the other hand, in Mishlei [Proverbs] (14:1) it states: חכמת נשים בנתה ביתה—The woman is the possessor of chachma, and from this chachma she builds her home. Meaning, in building a home, we use the chachma part of the woman. This is the potential state, of growth and construction, and not that practical part of her.
Of course, each part completes the other, and according to what we have learned, the reason the woman has the attribute of bina yesera [extra understanding] is because she has the special chachma needed for building a home. This chachma is what produces her bina yesera.
Here is a real-life example of how chachma can build a home and develop a personality: A couple merit to have a child, and the child is healthy. The parents tell the boy frequently, “You’re going to be a talmid chacham [Torah scholar],” “You’re going to be a gadol b’Yisrael [great leader in Israel], etc.” What are these statements? What is their tachlis [result]? Lechora [it seems], they are simply expressions of what the parents want for their son.
The truth is that these statements have a sense of “amira,” of “promise.” These statements themselves plant in the child’s heart the seed and give him the power to grow and develop. Only in this way can the fulfillment of the amira be realized.
In this same manner, words are the promises of Hashem. They are the initial phase, and fulfillment is the end phase, and each phase needs the other.
I remember when I was a bachur [young man] in yeshiva, another bachur told me: “If you want to get self-confidence, make sure always to have a few hundred dollars in your pocket. You’ll feel good this way; you’ll feel strong, powerful, and it will cause you to be successful, like a businessman.”
The truth is, this idea already appears in a story about how to become a millionaire. A man turns to his friend and says: “Give me $100,000, and I’ll teach you how to become a millionaire.” That friend is interested and gives him the $100,000. In exchange, the first man gives him a moon-shaped object and tells him: “This moon is made of pure gold. Whenever you are in times of trouble, it can save you. But the only time you can use it is if you have absolutely no other way out. Only in such a situation are you allowed to use this moon. After you succeed in becoming rich, you have to pass the moon on to someone else.”
Sure enough, armed with a golden moon in his pocket, this man set out to make a fortune in business, and succeed he did. He succeeded so much that he realized that the time had come for him to pass the moon on to someone else. Then he realized, to his surprise, that the moon was not made of gold at all. It was only covered with a gold-colored paint.
What really happened? Very simple. All the time, in the back of his mind, this man was convinced that he possessed something that could give him wealth. It was right here in his pocket—in potential form. Only through this did he apply himself and become wealthy.
Ultimately, what is the difference between a rich man and a poor man? Their outlook. The poor man thinks to himself that he is lacking, and this causes him to grab whatever he can. The rich man, however, is relaxed. He thinks to himself: “Baruch Hashem [Blessed be G-d], I have enough, I have nothing to worry about. The money is already in the bank, so I’ll eat the first course slowly, I’m not in any rush, and then the next course, and the next…” If the poor man would think like the rich man, this itself would improve his situation.
A rich man views things differently, and this changes his approach to more than just business. He is more relaxed; he pays attention to small details that a poor man isn’t even aware of. Once, I was sitting in a beis medrash [study hall], and suddenly I heard a familiar voice. It was Rav Chaim Pinchas Sheinberg calling me! He told me: “Mordechai, look at that person over there and see how a rich man conducts himself. Look at his sefarim [holy books], how careful he is with them. See how he put a cover on each of them.”
Rav Sheinberg then added a mashal [parable]: “Let’s say it’s getting close to winter, and a man wants to buy coal to heat up his house. If he’s poor, he has to buy small amounts; whatever he needs for that week alone. Why? Because he doesn’t have money on hand to make one large purchase. The poor man ends up paying more for coal than the rich man, because his shortage of cash forces him to buy bit by bit. The rich man, on the other hand — just as we switch to Tal Umatar [the prayer for rain] — he buys an entire winter’s worth of coal. Since he’s paying upfront, he can bargain and lower the price. Moreover, as a rich man, he’s familiar with commerce and knows how to negotiate a good deal—that’s the rich man’s mentality.”
Rav Sheinberg then pinched me on the cheek and said: “Mordechai, think like a rich man. Hashem helps in countless ways, but that thought alone already gives you bitachon [trust in G-d].” When you think like a rich man, you’re more relaxed and sure of yourself, you feel strong and capable, and that itself enables you to build yourself more than the poor man.
This is the trait of Keil Shakai, and this is the meaning of Hashem’s “promise.” When a man has a dream, he turns it into something concrete and real, and it gives him strength and value. When the Avos heard that Hashem promised them Eretz Yisrael, for them this was a real, living thing, only its time had not yet come.
When Yaakov Avinu [our father Jacob] left Lavan [Laban] and was on his way back to Eretz Yisrael, he learned that Esav [Esau] was coming toward him with 400 men. It states that “Yaakov feared very much” (Bereishis / Genesis 32:8).
The Midrash [Exegesis of the Sages] (Bereishis Rabba 76:1) adds that two men were promised by Hashem and [yet] they feared: the select one of the Avos and the select one of the Nevi’im [Prophets]. The select one of the Avos, as it states that “Hashem chose Yaakov.” Hashem told Yaakov, “Behold, I am with you,” and yet Yaakov felt fear.
Why did Yaakov feel fear? Hashem had promised him Eretz Yisrael, and Hashem had promised that He would be with him.
Indeed, Yaakov knew that in war against Esav, he would be victorious, as Hashem had promised. Yaakov’s concern was not the future, but rather the present—how would he get through this particular phase? Therefore, in practical terms, Yaakov had to think about what he would do and what was right to do. He was therefore justified in splitting his people into two camps, etc.
We can compare Yaakov at that time to a patient told by his doctor: “According to what I see, you will survive this illness. You’ll have to struggle a bit, and it won’t be easy, but you’ll make it. It will take a long time, but eventually, this illness will be behind you.” These words instill hope and strength in the patient. He feels at ease now. He can count on recovering.
So, too, Yaakov knew that he would win, but before him now was the struggle that preceded the fulfillment of the promise. How would he handle that? This is what Yaakov feared—not that he ever doubted that he would survive his encounter with Esav.
If so, the trait of Keil Shakai, of Hashem’s promise, is itself an awesome thing, even though fulfillment has not yet come, because its benefits are already felt. The dream is at hand from the moment of the promise, and that promise accompanies you like a living reality, and it gives you the strength to grow with it and proceed in that direction. As we learned, the intent of the promise is that you advance, grow, and foster the seed it plants within you, in order that the fruit come forth in the end. Only if you do so, growing and believing all the time in the promise, will you merit its realization.
After learning that the only way to fulfill the promise is by putting our trust in Hashem and His running of the world, we can now learn further that this emuna [faith] is what Hashem demands of us—believe in Me that I will fulfill My promise, believe that you are My treasured nation.
We find this by Avraham Avinu [our father Abraham]. Hashem showed him His trait of Keil Shakai, of promising, and He demanded perfect trust from him. This is alluded to in Shir Hashirim [Song of Songs] (8:9): “If she is [like] a wall, build upon her a palace of silver, and if she is [like] a door, place upon her a board of cedar.”
The Midrash (Tanchuma Lech Lecha 2) explains that this verse speaks about Avraham, that when Nimrod was about to throw Avraham into the fiery furnace, Hashem said: “If Avraham is like a wall,” meaning if he makes his soul like the wall that can endure many battles and remain standing, and if he’ll give his life al kiddush Hashem [to sanctify G-d’s Name], “we’ll build upon him a ‘palace of silver,’ these are the Jewish people, who are called ‘the silver-covered dove’ (Tehillim / Psalms 68). But if he is like a door” — unable to give his life al kiddush Hashem — “we’ll place upon him a board of cedar”—just as the form of a cedar board is easily altered, so too I will not watch over Avraham.”
However, Avraham declared: “I am a wall, ready to give my soul al kiddush Hashem.”
Avraham declared: My faith is strong like a wall, and therefore You can build upon me a palace of silver. You can build Klal Yisrael [the Jewish people] upon me, and the proof of my emuna is that I am not afraid to enter Nimrod’s fiery furnace. I am like the frogs that jumped into the ovens in Egypt, without fear of what would happen to them. Hashem, I rely on You entirely. When I go to sleep at night, I have no fear, because I rely on You. I give myself over to Hashem entirely. I am a wall without the slightest breach! Whatever You tell me to do, I’ll do it to the last detail, with perfection, with mesirus nefesh [self-sacrifice].
Belief is not just a state that a person either has or doesn’t have. Rather, it is a mida [trait] of a person—that he believes, that he relies on Hashem, that he has perfect faith. A person has to work hard to achieve this trait of faith. He has to acquire it so that when the time of test comes, faith will be a part of his personality. A man must trust that Hashem is orchestrating the affairs of the world, that He is good, and that He cares for you in every situation, whatever will be.
One of the talmidim asked: What is our obligation of trust in Hashem? Is it forbidden for a person to feel any fear at all? Must he rely totally on Hashem and believe that whatever happens, he will have whatever he needs? If so, maybe there is no reason to do any hishtadlus [effort]? Or, is it possible for hishtadlus and bitachon to co-exist and not contradict each other?
The answer is: You certainly need bitachon that Hashem runs the world, and that He is good and cares for you no matter what, but there is a condition—you have to do hishtadlus. You have to use your intelligence to advance and obtain what you need. However, the obligation of hishtadlus does not include being afraid of the future, since you have to trust that Hashem will take care of you. Only, at the same time, He demands that you do hishtadlus, without fear.
When a man is born, he has his material and spiritual natures, and the job of a Jew is to elevate his material nature and change it to spiritual. That’s how it is in bitachon—on the one hand, you have to do all the hishtadlus according to the laws of nature, and at the same time, you have to know how to connect this to the spiritual world of bitachon in Hashem, and to believe that all comes from Him.
If a man wants to build a house, he can’t just sit idly and say: “Hashem, help me build a house.” He has to make a blueprint, go to an architect, and start building. When problems arise as he is building, he has to deal with them. Here is where the need to believe in Hashem comes in—to think that after all of his hishtadlus, it doesn’t matter what happens, it’s all for the good. But before a man undertakes something, now is not the time to remain inactive and say, “This too is for the good.”
The question that’s always asked is: How much hishtadlus to make? This is a halachic [Jewish legal] question. But whatever the answer will be, bitachon surely does not mean that you don’t do anything, and whatever happens, you say: “This too is for the good,” or not to do anything and trust that Hashem will help me. You have to do hishtadlus, and know how to connect these two aspects of the soul, as we said above.
Since all that is expected of a man is hishtadlus, while trusting that Hashem will help him, it is therefore forbidden for a person to slip into a situation of fear and pressure out of his obligation to make hishtadlus, because with this, he is going against his spiritual part, that of bitachon.
If so, Yaakov was correct in worrying about his family, in the sense of thinking about which forms of hishtadlus were before him in order to protect them, and how to solve the problem, but not in the sense of feeling fear over the situation. It is forbidden for a person to become sick from fear or to succumb to pressure. Yaakov’s dividing his family into two camps was what was demanded of him according to the situation, since his obligation of hishtadlus was to defend himself from Esav by using his intelligence. However, Yaakov surely believed that Hashem would grant him success.
Excerpted with permission from Imrei Mordechai, Vol. 2, A Collection of Inspirational Insights from the “Mussar Shmoozes” of HaGaon Rabbi Mordechai Goldstein Ztzvk”l, The Imrei Mordechai Institute, Diaspora Yeshiva Toras Yisrael, Mount Zion, Jerusalem, Kislev 5779.
Share This!
From beginner to advanced, if you’re a Jewish man, 18 to 35 years of age, and you’re ready to give your heart to HaShem, and to get serious about learning Torah, Diaspora Yeshiva has a place for you with us on Mount Zion, Jerusalem.