A talented artist asked his gallery owner if anyone had shown interest in his paintings.
"I've got good news and bad news," she said. "The good news is that some guy inquired if your work will appreciate in value after you die. When I told him that it would, he bought all 15 of your original paintings. He spent 4.9 million dollars on your paintings."
“That’s awesome,” exclaims the artist. “I can now retire in wealth. And the bad news?"
"That guy was your doctor."
There is a fascinating Mishnah studied on this Shabbat—in chapter five of Ethics of the Fathers:
“Ten things were created at twilight of Shabbat eve,” We study in Ethics of the Fathers ch. 5. This Shabbat These are the mouth of the earth [that swallowed Korach]… the mouth of [Miriam's] well; the mouth of [Balaam's] donkey; the rainbow; the manna; [Moses'] staff… as well as the original tongs, for tongs are made with other tongs.”
This is quite an interesting Mishnah—and its message seems clear. Toward the end of the six days of creation, Friday evening during twilight, on the very border separating the day of tranquility from the six days of work—all the ten “miraculous” objects that would emerge throughout history reflecting the imprint of a Divine force in creation was conceived or created. From the manna feeding the Israelites in the desert to Balaam's talking donkey, to the fissure that opened to swallow up Korach and his the rebellious congregation, to the Tablets containing the Ten Commandments—all these and similar entities, existing on the border between heaven and earth, representing a High Power in our world were conceived or created on the first Friday of creation, in the twilight between Friday and the Shabbat.
But how to the “tongs” fall into this group?
What does this mean? Why are we talking about tongs?
Granted, the first pair of tongs could not be formed in fire by a blacksmith since there was no previous tong with which to fashion them. But why did G-d create this pair of tongs on Friday during twilight together with all of the other supernatural objects? Is it that important for G-d, moments before Shabbat, to make sure that tongs are created together with the manna, Moses’ staff and Balaam’s donkey?
The Rebbe presented his marvelous answer to these questions. In this cryptic Mishnah the sages were expressing a profound theological and psychological idea.
One of the frustrating elements of life is that so much of it is focused on preparing for something else. In the same vein, so much of our life is squandered on waiting. We are forever waiting. We wait for our “bashert” to show up, in the interim dating who-knows how many people; we wait for our resume to be accepted or rejected; we wait for the IRS to accept our offer; we wait for our husband to come home when he said he will be home an hour ago; we wait for the university to accept our applications or reject it. We wait for the architect to come up with the plans, then we wait for the bank to approve the loan, then we wait to win the lottery the ticket to pay the debt…
When we are teenagers in high school, we tell ourselves that when we'll graduate High School—that’s when life begins. Then we realize that, no, first we have to get our degree. After the degree, out of college, ah then is when we will finally settle down and be content. But then, hey, we find some crummy job, and we tell ourselves, that when we cultivate the right connections, put away enough cash to begin a start-up, ah, that’s when life will begin…
But wait, we tell ourselves, life did not begin yet… first, we need to get married, purchase our own home, and then we can really begin to settle down and start living…
But then our married friends smile and say, "This is nothing, this is just playing house, wait till your first child is born, then you'll understand what life is about." But even after the first child, we're still working to get our company or career off the ground, and when that's achieved we realize that the really serious plans will have to wait until the kids are grown up and on their own, and then it’s just a matter of getting through those years left till retirement so that we can get down to business.
And by the time you want to get down to business, your kids call you a grumpy old man.
When do you stop saying: This is no more a preparation for a living; this is life itself?!
This is the secret of the tongs. The first pair of tongs was nothing more than a preparation to be able to fashion other metals in the melting heat. Its entire identity and objective were to prepare for another objective. Yet G-d created it at the highlight of the week together with all of the supernatural objects that all manifest the Divine in the most revealing way, to teach us that He is to be found not only in the goals but also in the journeys. From the Torah perspective, there is no such thing as “real time” and in-between time. There is only one kind of time: Divine time. There are long journeys and short journeys, every moment is crucial. Every segment of our lives, no matter how fleeting or temporary, has a center, a purpose, an objective in and of itself: it is what G-d wants from me, now at this moment.
“An error doesn't become a mistake until you refuse to correct it,” a wise man once said. Ditto with all forces that seem destructive—each one of them, from the Divine perspective, contains a glimmer of meaning. Like the “tongs,” they too are here to propel, to create, to challenge us to enter into a deeper place. And when we utilize them in that fashion, we demonstrated the Divine imprint even in those forces.
A man found a cocoon of a butterfly. One day a small opening appeared. He sat and watched the butterfly for several hours as it struggled to force its body through that little hole. Then it seemed to stop making any progress. It appeared as if it had gotten as far as it could, and it could go no further.
So the man decided to help the butterfly. He took a pair of scissors and snipped off the remaining bit of the cocoon. The butterfly then emerged easily. But it had a swollen body and small, shriveled wings.
The man continued to watch the butterfly because he expected that, at any moment, the wings would enlarge and expand to be able to support the body, which would contract in time. Neither happened! In fact, the butterfly spent the rest of its life crawling around with a swollen body and shriveled wings. It never was able to fly.
What the man, in his kindness and haste, did not understand was that the restricting cocoon and the struggle required for the butterfly to get through the tiny opening were God's way of forcing fluid from the body of the butterfly into its wings so that it would be ready for flight once it achieved its freedom from the cocoon.
Sometimes struggles are exactly what we need in our lives. If G-d allowed us to go through our lives without any obstacles, it would cripple us. We would not be as strong as what we could have been. We could never fly!
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Yoseph Geisinsky
Tom Peacock wrote...