D’Var Torah
Rosh HaShanah Day 2 5787

As you can probably see, this Rosh haShanah I find myself dealing with an unexpected and unpleasant challenge: my limited mobility as a result of tearing my achilles tendon a few weeks ago. While I feel grateful that my injury is not more serious or life-threatening, it is quite frustrating, and this experience has prompted me to think anew about the challenges and trials that life throws at us. 

Rosh haShanah is a time when we emphasize and reiterate our whole-hearted desire for life in the year to come. Yet, life can throw us some serious curveballs, from routine injuries to deadly diseases and beyond. 

What can we learn from the wisdom of Jewish tradition to help us face the trials of life? How can we find encouragement in the Torah to help us to meet these trials with courage and resilience?

The Torah reading today for the 2nd day of Rosh haShanah tells the tale of one of the most terrifying and perplexing trials of the Torah: Akeidat Yitzhak. We’re familiar with the sketch of the story: God instructs Avraham to sacrifice his son Yitzhak on the altar and – only at the last moment – when it is clear that Avraham is willing to go through with the awful act – does G-d send an angel to stay Avraham’s hand. 

One detail of the story which we sometimes overlook is that the Torah tells us explicitly this is a test – a trial – a Nisayon. The verse says   וְהָ֣אֱלֹהִ֔ים נִסָּ֖ה אֶת־אַבְרָהָ֑ם

Rendered by JPS: God put Abraham to the test.

This explicit introduction to the binding of Isaac has made this story a classic context for interpreters of the Torah and of the human experience to ask:

• What does it mean to describe a difficult experience as a “test” or “trial” from G-d?

And

• Why does this life contain so many difficult “tests and trials” that we need to learn to deal with?

To explore these questions, the great 20th Century Israeli Torah scholar Dr. Nechama Leibowitz, of blessed memory, quotes from Rabbi Yaakov Zvi Mecklenburg, of blessed memory, a great 19th century German Torah scholar. Mecklenburg addresses one of the foundational tensions in calling something “a test from G-d.”

If G-d is all-knowing – and therefore knows the future – then what is accomplished by testing humans? Surely, G-d already knows how we will do on the test?!

Compare this to a test given in school. When a teacher gives a test to students in her class, she genuinely does not know how the students will perform on the test. That is the whole point of the test! To determine how much of the class material the students have internalized – that is to say how much they have actually learned. 

Yet, it does not make sense to think of a Divine test in the same way. Since G-d is all-knowing, G-d already knows what we’ve truly learned at any given moment. So, R’ Yaakov Tzvi Mecklenburg says, the purpose of a Divine test must not be to clarify the doubt of the Divine Test-Giver, but rather to give the tested person an opportunity to clarify for themself what they are capable of. This is to say, a test is meant to demonstrate to us that we are capable of withstanding great challenges in life. 

In his words:

לתת שלימות הבירור למנוסה שיתברר לו יכולתו, אם יוכל לעמוד בנסיונו 

A test gives the person being tested greater clarity about what they are capable of—and about how they can meet the challenge that lies before them.

According to this understanding of the Torah and human experience, the challenging trials that we experience in life are meant to teach us that we are capable of persevering through great difficulty. 

Nahmanides, the great Spanish Philosopher, scientist, mystic, and Torah commentator, sees things similarly but puts it differently:

המנסה יתברך יצוה בו להוציא הדבר מן הכוח אל הפועל להיות לו שכר מעשה טוב, לא שכר לב טוב בלבד

The Divine Teacher assigns tests in order to bring what exists within us from potential into action—to make our capacities real through what we actually do, rather than leaving them only as good intentions. 

To put this in other words, of course our intentions matter in life – it matters whether in our heart of hearts we intend to do good, or not. However, what matters more is how we actually act when we are put to the test – whether we can follow through with our good will and intentions even when the going gets tough. 

Therefore, trials in life should be seen as opportunities to bring to life new strengths and capacities within ourselves.

From within this framework, even painful situations can sometimes become occasions for growth—not because the suffering itself is good, and not because we know that God caused it for that purpose, but because we may discover in responding to hardship capacities we did not know we possessed.

___

Now, I want to be honest that I don’t know that this is really what is at work in the universe when we experience life’s trials. I do not know that my achilles tendon snapped when it did because G-d wanted to gift me an opportunity to practice patience, resilience, and a willingness to ask others for help.

Whenever we seek to give a neat explanation for suffering it is dangerous; we can never be certain about why something happens and pretending that we are certain can make suffering worse, like rubbing salt into a wound. 

However, I do believe that this framework for understanding the trials in the Torah and in our lives was bequeathed to us by our predecessors because it can help us to meet the challenges of life with a healthier, more growth-oriented mindset. 

Think with me about your own life. Call to mind a difficult situation. It can be something large or small – perhaps a situation you’ve had to deal with this past year. 

What feelings arise as you bring the challenge to mind? Anger? Frustration? Sadness?

Now, ask yourself: how has that situation forced you to grow? What strength have you had to discover? What new dimensions of patience, perseverance, acceptance, love, or gratitude have you had to develop?

How do you think it would affect your outlook if you thought of the challenges in life as a G-d given opportunity for growth and learning? Surely, it would not render a challenging trial easy, but it may open up a window that can help us look at the situation through different eyes. 

Perhaps this is where the image of a test can mislead us. When we hear ‘test,’ we may imagine an examiner looking for failure. But perhaps the Torah’s nisayon is better understood through another image: not an examiner waiting to grade us, but a coach who wants to discover what we can do—and who believes that, with practice and support, we can grow stronger.

I think of a soccer coach I had in high school who made us run and run and run. Before the season started, we spent several weeks just running. Once we started practicing with a ball, we began every practice running laps and ended every practice running sprints. If one player didn’t finish his sprints in time, we all had to run more. 

At the time, I hated it – or at least, I found it incredibly frustrating and difficult. Yet, as the season went on, I began to see how all that running actually enabled us to play better. Getting up and down the field quickly wasn’t a challenge – even in the 88th minute of the match. Looking back years later, I recognize in that conditioning trial a lesson that was deeper than preparing us for a season of high school soccer. Through all that running, I learned that even when I thought there was absolutely no way I could keep running, I actually could. With the support of the team, we could all push ahead even when we were absolutely exhausted. 

It taught me that I could persevere beyond what I thought was possible. 

Many of us have had experiences in life when someone has challenged us for the sake of our growth, and with time, we often look back on those moments with appreciation.

I wonder what it would do for us if – in the midst of a difficult moment in life – we could call to mind the coach or teacher, parent or grandparent, who pushed us in a way that demonstrated to us that we could persevere beyond what we had thought was possible. 

How might it help us to maintain faith and courage in the face of the real trials that surely lie ahead in life for all of us?

Like millions of people around the world, lately, I’ve been having a great time watching the show Ted Lasso. If you’re not familiar with Ted Lasso, it’s about an American Football coach who is given a job coaching an English Premier League soccer team. Besides the many clever comedic moments poking fun at the differences between American and English culture, the show celebrates the transformative potential a coach can have on the lives of a group of people who come together as a team. 

When we know there is someone who believes in us – who believes in our ability to grow, to overcome obstacles, and to perform well in the high stakes moments, then we feel better prepared to face those moments. Then, even when we don’t perform as well as we would like, we clarify for ourselves what we are capable of now – in this moment. 

So, one way that we can understand the tests that the Torah describes – and that we face in our lives – is as the challenge of a coach (or teacher) who believes in us. G-d believes that we are capable of rising to the occasion – and if we falter this time – then G-d will be there to cheer us on the next time we find ourselves on the field. 

The Torah does not tell us that Abraham’s life became free of trials after the Akeidah. Nor does Rosh haShanah promise us a year without difficulty. We pray for life—but we know that a full human life will contain uncertainty, disappointment, loss, frustration, and challenges we cannot anticipate.

Perhaps the hope offered by this tradition is not that God will remove every obstacle from our path. Perhaps it is that we are not finished becoming who we can become. There are strengths within us that have not yet been called forth. There are forms of patience, courage, resilience, and love that we have not yet had to practice.

And when we find ourselves exhausted, wondering whether we can keep going, perhaps we can hear—not only the demanding voice that says, “Try harder,” but the voice of someone who believes in us saying “you can do it.”

May we be blessed in this new year with lives of peace and joy. And when trials inevitably come, may we discover strengths we did not know we possessed. May we help one another find the courage to continue. And may we trust that the One who knows us more deeply than we know ourselves continues to call forth the best that we can become.