I
n a world of obscurity and falsehood, where do we find Hashem?

Iyov (19:26) offers a suggestion: “mibsari echezeh Eloka — from my flesh I shall see G-d.” The usual understanding of this verse is that the wonders of the human body attest to the existence of a Creator.

But there’s another meaning in Iyov’s assertion. Since man was created in the image of Hashem, his physical structure reveals information about the attributes of His Creator. This is true despite the fact that Hashem has no physical form.

Torah sources tell us that the symmetry of the human body, its right and left sides, indicate that there are two opposite, yet complementary middos with which Hashem governs the world: chesed, kindness, and gevurah, strength. In Kabbalistic writings, chesed, the primary and dominant middah, is associated with the right hand, while gevurah, the secondary attribute, is associated with the left hand.

The Shulchan Aruch’s directive that we put on our right shoe before the left shoe isn’t trivial. When we lead with our right foot, we activate the emanation of chesed from Above, as opposed to gevurah, which is associated with din, judgment.

Chesed and gevurah are the first two of the Seven Sefiros that we focus on between Pesach and Shavuos. During these seven weeks we identify the attributes that Hashem represents, and try to emulate them in our relationships with Hashem and with humans.

In Shemoneh Esreh, we refer to Hashem as Hagadol V’hagibor. Gadol, the attribute of greatness, denotes the expansiveness of chesed, while gibor, strength, indicates the opposite force. Hashem rules over all aspects of creation, and He creates boundaries and restrictions for each creature.

Gevurah also denotes inner strength, or restraint. Hashem’s attribute of gevurah may mean that He chooses to overcome His anger and be forgiving. On the other hand, He may choose to “restrain Himself” from His usual mode of giving and view the situation from the strict perspective of din. This, too, is for the ultimate good of the individual, for punishment is Hashem’s way of facilitating teshuvah and atonement.

Clearly, both attributes are vital for Hashem’s supervision of His world. If He operated only with chesed, the earth would be overrun by sinners without boundaries. Yet if He only employed gevurah, we wouldn’t be able to stand up to His judgment.

Strength in Man

A human being also needs to exercise both chesed and gevurah. A “gevurah personality” fears sin and is careful not to overstep boundaries. He’s focused and disciplined, exercises self-control, and doesn’t place undue emphasis on materialism and physical pleasures.

The middah of gevurah has many faces and many names. In various contexts, it’s referred to as avodah, service; pachad, fear; yirah, awe; and din, judgment. What do these denotations have in common?

Last week, we looked to Avraham as the model of a chesed personality; now, in the second week of Sefirah, a closer look at the life of Yitzchak, who personified gevurah, will demonstrate to us the facets of his middah.

The defining event in Yitzchak’s life was the Akeidah. Although this seminal event was a trial for Avraham, and we usually view it through his lens, it is universally referred to as Akeidas Yitzchak, “the Binding of Yitzchak.” This title is based on a poignant Midrash that tells us of Yitzchak’s heroic request as he lay on the mizbeiach and prepared to be sacrificed: “Father, I am young, and I may flinch from fear of the knife; perhaps this will invalidate the offering. So bind me very well.”

Binding — tying and restraining — is a fitting expression for gevurah. Pirkei Avos (5:1) famously defines a gibor not as someone who exerts his physical muscles, but as a person who displays moral strength and conquers his evil inclination. In its ultimate form, gevurah refers to giving up one’s life, but more commonly, it’s expressed by binding, or restricting, one’s natural inclinations, and subjugating oneself to Hashem’s Will.

Avodah, service, is a term that refers to gevurah as well as to korbanos and tefillah. In all these usages, the individual views himself as an eved Hashem, a servant whose raison d’?tre is to serve his master. He has no ego and no personal agenda. Introspection, discipline, and relinquishment of self are the hallmarks of the gevurah personality.

Rav Pincus sees gevurah reflected in Yitzchak’s decision to bestow brachah to the person before him even as he is puzzled as to which of his sons is standing there — “Hakol kol Yaakov v’hayadayim yedei Eisav — the voice is the voice of Yaakov and the hands are the hands of Eisav.” In the light of his wonderment, it can be hard to understand why he gives his coveted brachah, the decisive blessing upon which the entire future of Klal Yisrael — of the world — rests, to an unidentified recipient.

Yitzchak’s reasoning is an expression of his self-nullification: I don’t have to know who this person is. I’m not here to make decisions, and what I think ultimately makes no difference. I’m only a conduit for Hashem’s blessings. I’ll give the brachah to whomever Hashem placed here, and leave the rest up to Him.

Just as Avraham revealed Hashem to the world through modeling His chesed, similarly Yitzchak brought the awareness of Hashem to the world through the prism of gevurah.

Strictness Sweetens Judgment

It’s fascinating that the same world manifests both the chesed and the gevurah of its Creator. Rav Pincus illustrates this by using a lachmaniyah, a bread roll, as an example. The person looking for chesed marvels at our Benefactor’s gift package of freshness, tastiness, and nutrition; the gevurah-seeker is awed by the myriad atoms of matter that the Ruler has created and synchronized for the purpose.

Because gevurah is related to awe, fear, and caution, we might consider it a negative attitude. Yet Tomer Devorah teaches that when we’re strict with ourselves, we “sweeten” the judgment in the upper worlds, and Hashem cancels His strict decisions.

Furthermore, Torah sources indicate that the very purpose of the neshamah’s descent to This World is to combat the yetzer hara. Gevurah, fear of sin and strength of character, is vital in this battle. In a similar vein, the Slonimer Rebbe says that on a day a person doesn’t perform at least one act against his will, he didn’t advance in his life’s mission.

Rav Dessler points out that some people are natural at chesed and maintaining an outward focus; others are inclined to gevurah and inner work. Both middos are important. If we exercised only chesed, we might give too much, spoiling a child, supporting a criminal, or enabling an addict. On the other hand, an overemphasis on gevurah can lead to extreme self-centeredness or undue harshness toward others. Rav Dessler suggests that each person first identify and fortify his dominant trait and then prevent its distortion by developing the opposite, recessive trait, as a counterbalance.

Nevertheless, the two personalities remain distinct. To illustrate, when called upon to help a needy individual, both personalities may react with the same generosity, yet their inner response will differ. While the chesed person’s response is a reflection of his natural inclination, the gevurah personality’s response is a calculated action — he has determined that this is the proper mode of conduct in the current situation. This is an example of Chesed she’b’Gevurah, one of the combinations of Gevurah that we practice during the second week of Sefirah.

The sweetness of gevurah lies in the paradox that the relinquishment of self results in a self that is expanded, not diminished. Shlomo Hamelech expresses this at the close of Koheles, a megillah that examines the purpose of life: Sof davar… es haElokim yera… ki zeh kol ha’adam, to sum up, fear Hashem, for this is the essence of the man.

The Maharal notes that it doesn’t say, “the essence of man,” but “the essence of the man.” We can compare this to the special status we grant to the talmid muvhak, stellar disciple, of an adam gadol. Do we look up to him despite the fact that he’s entirely submissive to the gadol? More likely, it’s because he’s entirely submissive to the gadol. He’s become part of something bigger than himself.

The Maharal tells us that “the essence of the man” means the purpose for which he was created. Thus the yerei Elokim has not only attached himself to his Creator, he’s become part of the master plan of Creation.

Complete Nullification

The Gemara (Shabbos 89b) describes a conversation that will take place in the future. Hashem will tell Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov, “Your children have sinned against Me.” Both Avraham and Yaakov will agree that the nation deserves to be destroyed because they’ve profaned His Name. But Yitzchak will have a different attitude.

“My children?” he’ll reply. “Aren’t they Your children? Didn’t You call them your ‘firstborn’ when they said ‘naaseh v’nishma’? And how much have they sinned anyway? Let’s add up the years.

“If the average years of a person are 70, we can subtract the first 20 years when he’s not yet a responsible adult. That’s 50 years. We can subtract 25, which are the nights when he’s asleep, so we’re left with 25 years. Half of this 25 is spent davening, eating, and taking care of bodily needs. So we’re left with 12 and one half years. Hashem, if You’re willing to tolerate all those years, good, if not I’ll split them with You. And if You want me to say, ‘kulam alai,’ that all the years shall be ‘on me,’ behold I have already sacrificed myself for You.”

Astonishingly, Yitzchak Avinu, the model of gevurah, turns into our defense attorney! And it’s his acceptance of “kulam alai” that carries the day. Rav Chaim Friedlander shows that a closer look at his precise words reveals that they’re entirely consonant with his character.

The basic premise of his argument is that his children have nullified themselves before Hashem in the manner of a servant who’s relinquished his identity and belongs entirely to his master. Since they’re attached to the Master, they cannot be destroyed.

Didn’t You call them your ‘firstborn’ when they said ‘naaseh v’nishma’? They committed themselves to You, just as a son is permanently connected to his father. What greater words of subservience are there than naaseh v’nishma, which promise unequivocal loyalty to Your mitzvos?

Let’s add up the years… Yitzchak continues the theme of self-nullification and subjugation as he reduces the active years of a human’s life to 12 and a half. It’s as if he’s saying, “What can a human being accomplish anyway? How long does he live that we can assign him blame?”

Only Yitzchak Avinu, who perfected and modeled the strict middah of gevurah can “bargain” with Hashem, saying, “All the years that your children sinned, kulam alai, should be on me.”

As we seek to implement this attribute during this second week of Sefirah, let us remember that it is gevurah that ultimately sweetens the deal.

Sources include writings of Rav Chaim Friedlander, the Slonimer Rebbe, Rav Yisroel Belsky, and Rav Dovid Cohen.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 640)