"I guess that's fine. If you like to suffer, that is."
This is what someone actually said to me when I broke the
news that we -- a family of one-going-on-two children -- were
going to make aliya. This was forty years ago, when they DID
have transatlantic flights, but Eretz Yisroel was still
considered a Third World primitive country, materially
speaking. Why, they didn't even know what tuna fish was, and
canned corn was available only in the two supermarkets that
existed in Jerusalem. Canned pineapple was an unheard of
delicacy served at gourmet weddings. It was a country,
they said, that you had to come to prepared with U.S.
bathroom paper, if you didn't want to use newspaper -- with
Hebrew letters. How were we going to survive? On figs and
carobs?
But back to suffering. You had to admit there was something
holy about suffering, but I certainly did not equate making
aliya to suffering. I considered it a dream-come-true of all
my ancestral genes, a reclaiming of a birthright, a
tremendous privilege of these pre-Messianic times. And much
more: a dedication to a lifestyle that rejected American
materialism and sought spirituality and purity and sanctity.
Suffering, no. Hardship, probably yes. We were not only
resigned, but actually prepared and ready for that.
That comment has niggled me, very on-and-off, ever since. I
have wanted to define it for myself, not as a Freudian
masochistic tendency, G-d forbid, but as something to deal
with and incorporate as a weltanschauung. Suffering as it
comes to you, doled out by Heaven, and perhaps, as some
conscious choice, now and then. To be or not to be -- to
suffer...
Actually, I do believe in it. Sure, it's out of sync with the
American dream, but each time I've agonized over some
suffering-hurdle in my life and looked back, there is a
certain sense of -- call it accomplishment and pride. There
is the relief and thanksgiving that I made it through. Not
that pride is commendable, but it is the pride, confidence
and prayer that tells you that you can vault the next hurdle
if you've managed this one. And a deep sense of not having
been alone. Hashem was there all the while, peeking through
the cracks, through the chinks of my armor of self
complacency to see if there really was a heart of flesh
beating, hoping, praying, aware of Him. That is suffering: a
sweet, hot tear, before, during and after. And a new person
that emerges, refined, like beaten flax.
And that is why I took exception to a line in the recent
article entitled "Sensitivity" which appeared in Yated
(Vayechi), reading, "It is not a mitzva to
suffer?"
First of all, maybe it is? Or desirable? Or commendable. How
about the Tana R' Nochum Ish Gamzu whose students placed the
legs of his bed in pails of water so that insects would not
crawl up and infest his open sores. He brought that suffering
upon himself as a penance (for not having been energetic
enough to help a starving man who asked for food). And how
about R' Elazar ben R' Shimon who was also wracked with pain;
when his disciples discovered that he was inviting
those yisurim, they let him be.
Okay, that's out of style today. So is rolling in the snow
and other acts of asceticism. Even fasting. Even experiencing
the pangs of natural childbirth. And even suffering through a
common cold or a headache.
Aha! This is what she is getting at. Yes, indeedy. Fasting
and childbirth, and even the common cold as prime examples of
a spoiled, pampered, modern epicurean approach to life versus
the spartan, stoic, accepting and self-refining one that is
provided by a bit of `suffering.' A very Jewishly healthy
attitude, in my medieval opinion.
The Cream Puff Generation
When my husband entered the Kiruv field in our beginning
years after aliya and was confronted with American youth, he
coined the phrase, "Cream puff generation." Cream puff
included before- and after- shave lotion, deodorants,
toiletries, dozens of different kinds of pills -- all
necessary -- for this kind of cold and that kind of stuffed
nose and all sorts of things that these young people couldn't
do without, and made room for in their backpacks. By way of
allegory. They were traveling light through the world, but
needed the going easy, nonetheless. Horatio Alger did not
exist; they didn't even know what he stood for (and neither
do most of the readers? He was a fictional shoeshine boy who
made it good by virtue of very hard work and abstemiousness,
the prototype of the American who made it up the ladder
through work ethics and honest effort).
What sacrifices do people make today? G-d forbid that I
should belittle our kollel generation or be a
kateigor. Please read me right [and this is only one
person's opinion, not YATED editorial policy]. But if living
in a brand new apartment with excellent plumbing, a full
range of electrical appliances that include dryers, toaster
ovens, microwaves, freezers and other things I probably don't
even know exist; having ready heating, designer clothing
second hand at your local gemach; kindergarten care
from age eighteen months and up; free medical care with
pickup service; beit hachlama after all your births,
neighbors you can trust and even leave your children with in
a blessedly insular society; ready prepared foods and loans
when the money runs out -- well, big deal! What's left to
suffer about? Where's the sacrifice? And where's the
hardship? Certainly, no one is extending themselves to seek
it.
Maybe we should turn the clock back to the pre-washing
machine era? Ridiculous, but where are we supposed to find
the character-building hardship in this electronic world?
Fasting and childbirth, just by way of example. These are two
areas where I have seen women copping out rather than coping
in. And the simple headache.
And all the pity for those cream puffs who never got a hardy
upbringing where suffering was par for the course. Because a
great deal of it is in the mind.
Let us begin with the simple headache. (I exclude toothaches,
because that is one thing you should not ignore. It may go
away, but it will not heal itself and may develop into root
canal work, which is a foolish pity.)
Let us even go one step back. An itch on your nose or in your
ear! Try this simple experiment: You are davening and
all of a sudden, the yetzer hora Beelzebub) drones in
your ear and you feel a sudden itch. You should know that
this is a distraction -- and tackle it head-on. Studiously
ignore whatever it is. Don't scratch. Keep on praying.
Fight the natural urge and see if you can overcome it,
because if you don't, chances are you will be itching even
worse or distracted otherwise a few moments later. Don't just
take my word for it...
The next step is a headache. Do you run for your aspirin at
the first twinge? Why not `savor' the discomfort as a test?
Take some tea, by all means, but don't reject this as a
heaven-sent affliction. Say: Thank you, Hashem. I am
aware, now, of what good health is and I will try to
appreciate it better in the future. I will try to serve You
better even with this headache and try to refine my thoughts
because of it. I will incorporate it into my being and learn
to be more sensitive to my children's aches and pains, to my
handicapped neighbor, to the old lady who has trouble getting
on and off a bus. I will take this pain and do something with
it, build with it, overcome this hurdle. Because like the
fly and the itch, if you fight it by rejecting it as a tap
from Heaven, chances are the next discomfort will become
bigger and worse, whereas if you incorporate it, use the pain
as a tool, you will not NEED a bigger reminder, a full blown
cold or a migraine. In fact, it's like a labor pain; if you
tense up to fight, the contraction is far less effective than
if you ride with the wave and accept it, incorporate it.
You know that homeopathic doctors are against taking anti-
pyretics, that is, medicines to lower a fever. They maintain
that the body needs this fever; it is fighting a disease, and
one of the ways is by raising the body temperature. Of
course, this attitude is to be taken with a grain of aspirin
when you see that your psychosomatic attitude is not
effective. There is a point where one should consult a
doctor, where one should take antibiotics -- but where is
that point?
Why are we so immune to a wide range of medicines if not for
the reason that we took them for a minor ill which we could
have combatted through mind over matter. We ignore the built-
in healing marvels of that mind and of that body! We consider
it a mitzva to remove the impediment rather than
absorbing its lesson. Chazal say that Yaakov was the first
person to become ill. Before him, people did not need this
reminder... (Not that he did, but we do...)
The Exodus -- Pain Condensed
In these parshiyos we are told that Hashem condensed
our ancestors' travail and tribulation in the Egyptian exile
so that He could take them out earlier, one hundred and
ninety years sooner. No, He didn't ask them, but where one
has a choice of accepting suffering or fighting it, why not
begin at a very minor level?
I am reminded of a Midrash that tells of a man who yearned
with all his might to understand the language of the birds.
He was finally granted his wish, and heard the birds talking
about a certain trouble that was about to befall him. He took
precautions and was able to head it off. Soon, he heard them
discuss another, worse misfortune about to happen, which he
was also able to prevent. Finally, he heard them say that his
wife was going to die. There was nothing he could do and he
was beside himself with woe. Later, he was told that had he
accepted the first affliction, he would have been able to
avoid the second and third.
We are not put on this world for an easy, comfortable life.
Odom le'omol yulad. We must work for our olom
habo. Pain and suffering are tools for self improvement,
for refining the soul that must return to its source in
better shape than it came down. I would venture to say that a
degree of omol one person experiences through the pain
of any given trying situation, like a handicap, or a special
child in the family, or some personal tragedy, can be equated
on the heavenly scales to the omol, the exertion and
discomfort, another person experiences by electively
dedicating himself to some ulterior purpose. This can be
running a gemach in one's house, doing other kind of
klall work and negating one's personal comfort for the
sake of a higher goal. And I would even safely say that when
things are running smoothly for a person, s/he should seek
out one spiritual, altruistic area that will make him `sweat'
for his bread-portion in olom habo. Who knows? This
effort might head off some other type of omol hardship
he was scheduled to experience.
We have not even touched upon the idea of fasting, and the
prevalent search for an easy, halachic way out. Or the
physical joy, the revelling and revelation in the pain of
childbirth, especially childbirth, which is a limited period
of pain with such an exhilirating happy ending.
All pain has a happy ending, if not in the personal, very
tangible sense of closeness to Hashem that it provides -- and
if you haven't felt this, don't bother arguing about it --
and if not in this world, then in the next, where we will
understand WHY we had to suffer, and HOW BENEFICIAL it was
for us.
Dear Readers -- there is a lot more, a lot more to be said on
the subject. Certainly a whole article to be devoted on the
affinity shared by people who have or are suffering. I would
like readership reaction to develop this topic, which I feel
is a very necessary recipe for the really good-life, an
antidote for an instant-gratification generation, a
generation of addicts to pain-killers which are killing our
very souls.
I know that my meaning will be misconstrued by many, and it
is, again, not an editorial statement, just something I,
personally wanted to air to those who agree with me, and
clarify for myself with those who disagree!
Awaiting your reply, I remain, sincerely,
Sheindel Weinbach
