WHAT IS G-D'S GIFT TO YOU?

An old Jewish lady sold pretzels on a street corner for 25 cents each. Every day, a young, well-dressed man would leave his office building at lunchtime, and as he passed the pretzel stand, he would leave her a quarter, but he never took a pretzel.

This went on for more than seven years. The two of them never spoke. One day, as the young man passed the old lady's stand and left his quarter as usual, the pretzel lady spoke to him.

"Sir, I appreciate your business. You are an excellent customer, but I must tell you that the pretzel price has increased to 50 cents."

We are all confronted by the ongoing question: Why the resistance? Why is life not easy? Why do I always have another hurdle, inside or outside, to overcome? When does real vacation begin? Why is there always another layer of the onion to peel?

We ask the question as individuals and as part of a people. When will our nation be able to relax? Kanye West, aka Ye, had declared that “the Jews run everything,” and refused to back down even if it cost him billions. Sometimes, hatred of Jews is worth more than money.

The Midrash on this week's Torah portion Lech Lecha relates a fascinating episode: When Abraham traveled through various cities of Mesopotamia, he observed the people engaging in excessive eating, drinking, and frivolousness. He said, "I do not want to have a part in this land."

When Abraham arrived at the mountains surrounding the Land of Israel, he saw the inhabitants engaged in pruning during the season of pruning and plowing during the season of plowing. Abraham said, "I wish I could have a lot in this land."

G-d told Abraham: "To your offspring, I will give this land."

This is strange. Granted, Abraham did not approve of a lifestyle of vanity and indulgence. He wanted to live among people who have a work ethic. But why does this need to become the eternal homeland of the Jewish nation? How does working hard capture the essence of the Jewish experience?

The Rebbe explained why the Creator designed a world we must work to attain anything significant. If I want money, I usually need to work; if I want health, I need to work on my discipline, diet, and exercise; if I want happiness, I need to work on my anxiety and attitude; if I want a good marriage and good relationships with my family, I need to work on myself daily. To attain deep spiritual and emotional growth, I need to challenge my resistance and become vulnerable. But why should a good G-d not provide me with a free lunch, breakfast, and dinner, physically, emotionally, and spiritually?

Some think it is a punishment. “With the sweat of your brow shall you eat bread,” G-d told Adam after he ate from the Forbidden Fruit. But the truth is that even before that G-d placed Adam in the Garden of Eden “to work it and to preserve it.” Work was always part of the plan. What changed after the eating of the tree was not the need for work, only the nature of the work.

This is not just true of Adam, and every person as an individual, but also of the nation as a collective. When G-d sent Moses to liberate the Hebrew slaves from Egypt, He immediately said: “As you liberate the nation from Egypt you will serve G-d at the mountain.” Part of becoming free is getting to work!

But why not just emancipate them without any strings attached? Why is service essential to the liberation? Couldn't G‐d have designed our lives, as individuals and as part of a collective, so we wouldn't need to encounter disappointments, and challenges and toil every step of the way?

The classic answer presented by Jewish thinkers is that we appreciate what we work for. When I generate income through my efforts, I cherish it and enjoy it far more than when I am just given money as a gift. When I work for something in my life and I achieve it through my sweat, blood, and tears—the joy of achievement is unparalleled.

When the graduating student studies for his exam for six months, putting in the effort day and night, and then succeeds in his finals, knowing full well that his efforts earned him his mark, there is a sense of relief, serenity, and profound joy in the fruits of his labor. And when the artist or writer completes his piece of art, after weeks of mental exertion, nothing can replace the sense of satisfaction.

Proverbs compares G-d to our friend. Having my measure is more precious than even nine measures as a gift of G-d.

Sure, G-d could have created and given us all on a golden platter without us lifting a finger. But then it would feel like, in the words of the Jerusalem Talmud, “bread of shame.” By nature, humans feel uncomfortable taking and taking without giving. G-d wanted us not only to receive all in abundance but to feel that we own it, we deserve it, and it belongs to us because we earned it. Only then can we cherish, appreciate, and enjoy it.

Had G‐d instead gratuitously bestowed His blessings, then there would indeed have been vast goodness granted us, it would have been distasteful, it would have been unearned "bread of shame" and its bestowal would not have characterized the ultimate and perfect beneficence of the Creator.

It’s hard to forget the scene in Saving Private Rayon, when the commander sent to Normandy to rescue the one brother who survived an entire family is dying from his wounds, among others who died while searching for this soldier, he turns to the rescued soldier and says: “Earn it.” For the remainder of his life, he experiences the anguish of not knowing if he earned the gift of life. Did he deserve to live when so many others died? There is shame in feeling that I did not earn it.

A wealthy nobleman came upon a peasant pitching hay. The nobleman was fascinated by the sight: flowing motions of the peasant's arms and shoulders and the graceful sweep of the pitchfork through the air. He so greatly enjoyed the spectacle that he struck a deal with the peasant: he would give him a gold coin every day if the peasant agreed to come to the mansion and display his hay-pitching technique in the nobleman's drawing room.

The next day, the peasant arrived at the mansion, hardly concealing his glee at his new line of "work." After swinging his empty pitchfork for an hour, he collected his gold coin—many times his usual reward for a week of backbreaking labor. But by the following day, his enthusiasm had somewhat waned. Before the week was out, he announced that he was quitting his commission.

"I don't understand," puzzled the nobleman. "Why would you rather swing heavy loads outdoors in the winter cold and the summer heat, when you can perform an effortless task in the comfort of your home and earn many times your usual wages?"

"But master," said the man, "I'm not doing anything..."
An "easy" life would also be a meaningless and shameful life.

We sometimes want our life to become a fairy tale of magical success. But most people who win the lottery lose all their money within three years because they don’t know what to do with it. Judaism teaches that you must work hard to succeed. It sounds so simple, but in our minds, we are all hoping for a major, unearned break. Something “free” is always tempting but ultimately the “bread of shame”: compromises your sense of dignity and adequacy.

The Talmud states: If someone says, “I have worked hard, and I have not been successful,” don’t believe him. If someone says, “I have not worked hard and I have been successful,” don’t believe him. If someone says, “I have worked hard, and I have been successful,” believe him!

But now we come to the real question.

The fact that we feel discontent when receiving everything for free is also a nature that G-d had created. Why did He create man to toil and endow him with a nature that thrives only on struggle and challenge? Why create me with a nature that will make me miserable if I do not earn something, which now forces me to engage in work and effort?

For this, the Rebbe presented a marvelous and profound answer.

The greatest good G-d can bestow on a person is giving him or her the source of all goodness, the source of all pleasure, the source of all reality, and the sum of all reality—G-d Himself.

And what is the way a person can come closest to G-d? Not just to receive from G-d, but to become G-d-like, to become one with G-d, to the point that you become an embodiment of the Divine, a conduit for the Divine; you are G-d like.

Had G-d created us to derive absolute satisfaction and pleasure from His gifts, a person would be nothing more than a passive beneficiary of G-d’s gifts. I’d be a recipient of G-d but never G-d-like. G-d would remain the giver, and I would be the taker. My role in creation would be limited to that of a passive recipient.

G-d wanted to give us everything, meaning all of Himself we become inseparable from Him. That means that just as G-d is a creator, so are we also co-creators. He designed us that we are ashamed of just remaining a passive recipient. We become architects of our life and our world, partners with the Divine in shaping the world and destiny.

“A person was born to toil,” Job states. This is not a punishment; this is not even a deterrent, to keep him busy and off the streets. It rather represents the core and purpose of creation: G-d sharing His infinity with us, G-d bonding.

The deepest joy of a parent, a mentor, or a leader is not just to bestow goodness on a child. For then there is still a gulf. You are the giver; he is the taker. But when they assume their independence, becoming leaders in their own right—something shifts in your heart. The circle is complete. Now they are not recipients from you; now they have become you.

You may have built a big company and have the resources to secure a job for your child who can now benefit from your creativity and toil. But even if your child is grateful and and lazy. Only when you see your child taking the reigns and becoming a leader and creator like you do you feel your mission is complete? You did not only create a child, a recipient; you created a creator. He’s not only a recipient of you; He becomes you.

The greatest gift that G-d gave humankind was the ability to earn and to become the cause and creators of our own wisdom, learning, and happiness. The universe is structured and designed to stimulate us and empower us to become Divine-like.

If someone tells you something is free, beware. They are robbing you of your God-given right to become the cause of your transformation and the earner of your wisdom and happiness.

When the first Jew, Abraham, observed a land where people were not passive recipients of life’s pleasures, but active partners in repairing the world, He knew this was a fertile place where Judaism could flourish. This can serve as a foundation for the revolutionary vision of Judaism: Each person is a Divine ambassador of love, light, hope, and redemption. We are not only creations of G-d; we are partners with G-d in the work of healing and repairing the world. We are not victims of someone else’s plan; we are not even bystanders and observers. We are the complete one with the source—we are the conduits for G-d in this world. When you face a situation in life that is difficult, don’t see yourself as the victim of the problem, but as the Creator who can bring some light, healing, clarity, courage, and hope into this situation.

We return to our original question. Why do I always have another hurdle, inside or outside, to overcome? The Jewish answer is: Never see these as a reason for resignation or despair; rather, as an invitation to create our future, to become the authors of our lives, not merely observers of our lives. The resistance is the invitation for you to create your future, mold your destiny, create as G-d creates.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Yoseph Geisinsky