By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz
We live in interesting times, and sometimes we become so immersed in what is happening that we lose sight of who we are and what really matters. We get caught up in elections, analyzing the results, debating who the real winners and losers are, and speculating about what the outcomes portend for the future. People need things to talk about, subjects to fill the empty spaces in their lives, and they become absorbed in the latest news development, the latest hock, controversy, or scandal. Before long, they can become so consumed by the events and distractions of the moment that they forget who we are, where we come from, and what we stand for.
Elections consume enormous amounts of attention. There are campaigns, personalities, predictions, victories, disappointments, maneuvering, and endless analysis. In Eretz Yisroel, the political debate touches the very foundations of Jewish life, the future of the country, and the relationship between the Torah world and the broader society. In America, as well, elections can become all-consuming, with people passionately debating the direction of the country and what the results will mean for the future.
These matters are important. They affect our lives and the lives of our children, and we cannot afford to be indifferent to what happens around us. But they are not the entirety of our lives, nor should they become the measure by which we define ourselves. The question is not only what happens today, who wins or loses, or which political forces gain ground. It is also what we are building for tomorrow, what we stand for, and what we are passing on to the generations that follow us.
That lesson is reflected in the life of Avrohom Avinu. Following the passing of Sorah Imeinu, Avrohom does not remain absorbed in the past, dwelling only on the life they shared and all they had accomplished together. After arranging for Sorah’s burial in the Me’oras Hamachpeilah, he turned his attention to the future and sent Eliezer to find a wife for Yitzchok.
Avrohom understood that what he and Sorah had begun had to be carried forward, nurtured, and strengthened by those who would follow them. Their responsibility was not merely to live lives of greatness, but to establish a legacy that would endure.
That remains our responsibility as a people. Our mission extends beyond any particular administration, election, or political contest. Governments come and go, political fortunes rise and fall, and the issues dominating the headlines today will give way to the controversies of tomorrow, but the obligations of Klal Yisroel remain. We must be mindful of the values, traditions, faith, and commitments we are transmitting to our children, and of the kind of world we are preparing them to inherit.
The posuk states, “Vayihiyu chayei Sorah,” and Rashi cites the familiar words of Chazal, “Kulon shovin letovah — All her years were equally good.” Sorah lived through upheaval, uncertainty, displacement, and enormous personal challenges. She left her birthplace and family, wandered from place to place, endured years of waiting, and experienced trials that would have overwhelmed most people. Yet her life was not defined by the turmoil surrounding her. Her identity and sense of purpose came from her relationship with Hashem, her emunah, her kedusha, the good she did, and her many accomplishments.
Sorah did not allow the circumstances of the moment to obscure the larger purpose of her life. She remained steadfast in her mission, and the years of her life were woven into one continuous tapestry of faith and devotion to Hashem. The world around her changed, circumstances shifted, and challenges arose, but her inner compass remained fixed.
That is a message we need today. We can follow the news, care about elections, debate political developments, and worry about the future of America and Eretz Yisroel. We can recognize that the decisions made by those in positions of power have consequences for our families, our communities, and our people. But we cannot allow the stream of information, speculation, and controversy to displace the things that give our lives meaning.
We cannot become so preoccupied with what is happening around us that we forget what is happening within us, what we are responsible for, and what Hashem expects of us. The study of Torah and our dedication to mitzvos are the constants of life and should be the constants of our lives.
What endures is not the commotion of the moment, but the life we build, the values we embody, and the legacy we leave behind.
Every generation has its tests. Each period presents unique challenges, and every generation tends to believe that the difficulties it faces are more formidable than anything its predecessors had to endure. The nature of the tests changes, the circumstances are different, and the pressures take new forms. Many of the challenges confronting us today involve self-control and discipline in an age of unprecedented plenty, convenience, and virtually unlimited access. The struggle is often not how to obtain what we need, but how to restrain ourselves from indulging in everything that is available.
It was not that long ago there were only a handful of wealthy individuals, and few could have imagined today’s degree of communal wealth and material comfort. Life was simpler, material expectations were more modest, and the temptations that accompany prosperity were less pervasive. People had fewer choices, fewer luxuries, and fewer opportunities to indulge themselves.
In the generation before that, our communities were largely made up of immigrants who had come to this country fleeing hunger, persecution, and death. They faced an entirely different set of challenges. Institutions of Jewish education were underdeveloped, employment opportunities for shomrei Shabbos were inadequate, and the fear of not having enough to feed one’s family was a very real concern. They were forced to make do with little, and maintaining a Torah life required much sacrifice. Only those with tremendous strength of character and faith were able to withstand the pressures and transmit their mesorah to their children. Millions were lost to assimilation, while those who remained loyal to Torah did so through courage, determination, and extraordinary mesiras nefesh.
Yet they drew the strength to persevere by looking beyond themselves and the circumstances of their generation, studying the lives of those who came before them, beginning with the avos and imahos, whose experiences, struggles, and triumphs are recorded in the Torah so that we can draw inspiration and guidance from them. Their lives are the foundation of our identity and an enduring source of strength for every generation that follows.
The posuk (Bereishis 24:22) relates that after Eliezer determined that Rivkah was the girl destined to marry Yitzchok and become one of the imahos of Klal Yisroel, he presented her with a golden nose ring weighing a beka and two golden bracelets weighing ten zohov.
Rashi explains that these gifts carried profound significance. The beka alluded to the shekolim of Klal Yisroel, about which the posuk says “beka lagulgoles.” The two bracelets represented the two Luchos, while the words “asorah zohov mishkolom” alluded to the Aseres Hadibros.
To someone observing the encounter between Eliezer and Rivkah, it appeared to be an ordinary exchange of gifts. There was a man traveling with a caravan who had found a suitable young woman and was presenting her with valuable jewelry. Nobody watching could have understood the extraordinary significance concealed in those gifts. Only through the Torah and its meforshim, with the benefit of understanding what unfolded and what was to come, can we appreciate the depth of Eliezer’s shlichus and the way he went about finding Yitzchok’s basherte.
Rivkah’s brother, Lovon, the very embodiment of deceit and chicanery, was captivated by Eliezer, the gold he had given his sister, and the impressive caravan of camels accompanying him. While Eliezer understood that he was participating in an undertaking that would shape the future of Klal Yisroel, Lovon couldn’t see past the jewelry and the wealth. Eliezer saw the mission; Lovon saw the opportunity. One perceived the hand of Hashem guiding events, while the other was preoccupied with what he could gain from them.
That contrast is not limited to Lovon. People are often so taken by what is immediately visible that they never stop to consider what may lie beneath the surface. We judge situations by what we see, measure success by what we possess, and determine whether things are going well by the circumstances confronting us at a particular moment. We see the immediate development but fail to recognize that there may be a much larger picture unfolding, one that we are not yet capable of seeing.
But as maaminim and descendants of Avrohom Avinu, we know that nothing is random, that Hashem guides our lives in particular and the world in general, and that, quite often, His plan is beyond our comprehension.
Recognizing this requires a certain kind of self-mastery as well. The yeitzer hora wants us to see only what is directly in front of us, to become consumed by the moment, and to lose sight of the larger picture. The yeitzer hora encourages impatience, resentment, and despair. Emunah teaches us to look beyond the immediate circumstances, to recognize that Hashem is directing events, and to trust that there is a purpose even when we cannot discern it.
There is always what we see and experience on the superficial level, and then there is the deeper reality, which we cannot always perceive or appreciate. Eliezer understood that reality. Lovon did not. The difference between them is the difference between living with emunah and being governed by the appearances of this world.
We spend so much time discussing elections, analyzing political victories and defeats, debating personalities, and repeating the latest gossip, convinced that we are examining the important developments of the day. Some of these matters are indeed consequential, and we have a responsibility to pay attention to them. But how often do we become absorbed in the surface of things, arguing over what happened and who came out ahead, without considering the deeper questions of where events may lead and what they mean? We scrutinize the latest headlines, dissect the words and actions of public figures, and eagerly pass along the latest hock, while overlooking the larger picture unfolding before us.
Avrohom Avinu teaches us that a person must learn to look beyond the immediate scene. Where others see only what is visible at the moment, a person guided by emunah understands that what we see unfolding is Hashem’s plan. We have to develop the depth and discipline to see beyond the immediate, to look ahead, and to believe in the future.
The great builders of Torah weren’t dissuaded by the news of the day. They remained focused on their mission no matter who was in power, which way the stock market was moving, or which side appeared to be gaining the upper hand.
The parshiyos we learn during these weeks inspire us to recognize that we are bnei Avrohom, Yitzchok v’Yaakov. They remind us of the greatness of our heritage, the responsibilities that come with it, and what we must do to succeed in the roles Hashem has entrusted to us. Each of us has a mission. The road does not always unfold as we planned, and life often brings us circumstances we never anticipated. But what may seem to us like an interruption or a detour is all part of Hashem’s plan. With emunah and bitachon, we can maintain our dignity, our confidence, and our sense of purpose.
Our confidence in a better tomorrow must never be shaken. We cannot allow the yeitzer hora to depress us, diminish our ambitions, or persuade us that our efforts are futile. We cannot control everything that happens around us, the decisions of others, the political climate, or the twists and turns of our personal lives. We cannot always choose the circumstances in which we find ourselves, but we can choose the people we become as a result of them. We can decide whether to be governed by anger, jealousy, fear, and disappointment, or whether to remain anchored in Torah and emunah. That is the deeper meaning of being moshel b’chol asher lo, mastering ourselves rather than allowing the world around us to master us. We cannot determine what tomorrow will bring, but we can determine whether we will face it as people who know who they are and Whom they serve.
We must be as resolute as our grandparents were when they arrived in a strange country, surrounded by an unfamiliar language and customs. They did not know what tomorrow would bring, and life presented them with hardships, disappointments, and temptations aplenty. Every morning, they arose with an awareness of their great heritage and the obligations that accompanied it. They had a Chumash, a Gemara, a Tehillim, and a siddur to remind them who they were, what they were living for, and how to look beyond the difficulties and threats of the day. Their circumstances did not define them. Their identity came from the Torah and mesorah they carried with them.
They bequeathed that strength to us. They left us the ability to withstand adversity, maintain the proper perspective, and face life with confidence. Their outlook was not dependent on circumstances or the latest turn of events. It was rooted in the immutable truth that Hashem runs the world, and our responsibility is to remain faithful to Him and to the mission He has given us. When things happen to us or to the world around us, when we cannot understand what is unfolding or know what to do next, we should ask ourselves: What would Avrohom Avinu have done? What would Eliezer have done? What would our grandfathers and grandmothers have done? What would our rabbeim and their rabbeim have done? Their example can help us see beyond the immediate circumstances and respond with the wisdom, restraint, and emunah that have sustained our people throughout the generations.
But that perspective does not come by itself. We need to learn, to reflect, and to work on ourselves. Study the parsha with the meforshim. Study the seforim hakedoshim such as Chovos Halevavos, Mesilas Yeshorim, the works of the Chofetz Chaim, the Sefas Emes, and so many others. Find seforim that speak to you, that you can understand and learn consistently. Review them. Learn with a chavrusa or a rebbi. Pick up the phone and speak to a rebbi or a rov when you need guidance. There is no reason to just drift through life when we can easily find direction and purpose.
We should care about what happens in America, in Eretz Yisroel, and throughout the world. We should be informed and involved. But we must not allow the events of the day, the latest controversy, or the endless stream of gossip and speculation to consume us. The headlines will change, political fortunes will rise and fall, and today’s great controversy will soon be replaced by tomorrow’s. Our mission, however, remains the same and will never change. We must continue learning, growing, strengthening our middos, and reaching higher, so that we can fulfill the purpose for which Hashem placed us in this world.
The news from Eretz Yisroel is troubling, Torah is under attack, and we fear what the next couple of weeks may bring. But if we keep ourselves rooted in Torah and inspired by the examples of the avos and imahos and those who came before us, we will have the strength to persevere.
May Hashem enable us to grow in what is important and live each day in a way that brings us closer to the coming of Moshiach Tzidkeinu.
