I would like to present anew, from the ground up, this most important issue in our relationship to Hashem

MY recent article (“I Need Fear No Evil,” Guestlines, Issue 1003) on the imperative to forge a loving relationship with Hashem, and the principle that Divine discipline is fully congruent with this love, has sparked deep public engagement. Responding to those who reached out to me personally, I was able to draw upon Chazal, seforim hakedoshim, and, most importantly, my shimush talmidei chachamim with authorities, especially with mori v’rabi Rav Nachum Lansky.

Along with the many meaningful responses to the article, there was a minority who expressed cynicism or totally mischaracterized what I wrote. But listening to these voices can be a rewarding learning experience. A good mechanech tries to understand what lies behind a student’s frustration. Even the class clown who is disruptive gives us a window into what is confusing him.

Many people, including major rabbanim, have encouraged me to continue the conversation. As a mashgiach in an influential yeshivah told me, “Rav Yonah, most intelligent readers appreciate a thought-provoking treatment of the foundations of Yiddishkeit that forces them to grapple with their own position. Trust them that they will hear you through the noise.”

With this in mind, I would like to present anew, from the ground up, this most important issue in our relationship to Hashem.

The entire hashkafah I have been espousing actually comes from an explicit pasuk. “For as a man chastises his child, Hashem, your G-d, chastises you” (Devarim 8:5). Parents can relate to this pasuk on a deep level. We never approach our children from anything but a foundation of love. Our discipline is meant to flow from that foundation.

In fact, discipline is an expression of the most selfless love. No one enjoys punishing their children. It’s so much more enjoyable — and easier — to bond with them and enjoy their company. But we do what is uncomfortable because our children need it for their own growth.

The same is true, on an even deeper level, with Hashem. His discipline is by definition tailored to our needs and only meted out to the extent that it fosters our growth. Spitefulness is anathema to Hashem. He does not relish the pain we endure at all. In fact, He shares in our pain. He is a parent acting from love, guiding us in the direction we need to go, and delighting in every degree of maturation we glean from the experience.

This perspective in no way contradicts the principle of Divine reward and punishment expressed throughout Torah. But it is a game changer for how we relate to our pain and, more importantly, to our loving Father.

Ramchal and other sources provide a system for understanding how all human suffering in this world and the next serves to bring us to our ultimate spiritual destination. Although in this lifetime we can’t access the tools to understand why we need specific painful experiences, what we can access — and must develop — is the emunah that somehow everything is all for our benefit. This faith elevates suffering from being merely bearable to sublimely meaningful.

What about Gehinnom?

This perspective on reward and punishment applies in the afterlife as well. Many people quake at the mere mention of Gehinnom, and all English translations of the word confound us with the baggage of other cultures’ horrific misunderstandings. In truth, Gehinnom is beautiful and inspiring, even though it’s painful. Rav Yaakov Weinberg ztz”l compares Gehinnom to chemotherapy: It hurts, and no one welcomes it, but to a patient with a tumor, it is lifesaving. The same is true regarding Hashem’s therapeutic mechanism, designed to cure us of spiritual illness.

Another analogy: Think of an intense therapy session with a mental health professional that elicits tears. Bringing forward painful memories from the past allows for cathartic release and plants the seeds of recovery.

I received such questions as, “Are you portraying Hashem as a celestial teddy bear?” Or, “Does your concept of a loving Hashem provide people with license to sin, chas v’shalom?”

These types of questions, sincere though they may be, grossly and tragically miss the mark. Would anyone in his right mind pursue a tumor and all the associated pain? To the neshamah, disobeying Hashem’s will is no less catastrophic than physical illness.

Rather, we must understand that Hashem — in His endless patience — is forever paving our path toward self-restoration. As the Rema MiPanu explains, even the bleakest parts of Gehinnom are a stage within a larger cycle of redemption. The Ramchal reminds us that it is almost inconceivable that a Jew will not make it to the ultimate spiritual bliss in the end. The only question for us is how complicated we will make the process — how circuitous a road to spiritual bliss will we chose?

Our loving Father, Who believes in “no Jew left behind,” is committed to seeing us through, while begging us, “Kinderlach, please don’t make this harder than it needs to be!”

What about All the Divine Wrath?

This question, which arises from a superficial reading of Chumash, has been used as a cruel canard against Jews and the Torah. Again, think of an ideal parent. The Rambam, who famously advocates the golden mean for most middos, makes an exception for anger, which he believes is totally inimical to a spiritual personality.

How then, he asks, should a parent discipline his child? The Rambam explains that he should show anger, but not feel it at all — a crucial distinction. The parent’s disapproval should be forceful and unequivocal. But internally, the parent should maintain total composure. The last thing we want is to “lose it” with our cherished children. On the contrary, when a child misbehaves, we want to carefully consider the best response to further the child’s moral development. The same is true of Hashem with us.

A pasuk in Megillas Eichah (3:33) sheds light on this: “For He does not afflict us from His heart.” In His “heart of hearts,” He does not feel rage or the urge to punish at all. He shows “rage” because this is what impacts us on a human level. This interpretation of the pasuk can be found in a discussion in the Gemara pertaining to Purim.

But on a pshat level, this pasuk refers to even the worst calamities of Jewish history, such as the Holocaust and October 7. Even those unfathomable tragedies, or the very real personal traumas that we all experience in life, by no means befall us as an “expression of Hashem’s heart.” His heart at all times overflows with love for us, even though He must appear to be angry.

Perhaps we are skeptical of this explanation or suspect that it is wishful thinking. Why does the Chumash fixate so exclusively on wrath when conveying Hashem’s fundamental position as a loving parent? Again, draw upon the image of a human disciplinarian. When we discipline our children, our expressions show unmitigated disapproval. Nuance is counterproductive. To make the point, there needs to be an unequivocal response.

But in our inner hearts, we aspire to remain composed and nurturing. This dichotomy is exactly what the Chumash seeks to convey. On a level of pshat, corresponding to the revealed truth, it portrays a Divine forehead furrowed in anger. But on the deeper level of Torah shebe’al peh, as seen in the sources cited above, Hashem’s fundamental love shines through.

When we access all of Torah’s dimensions, the facets of the diamond sparkle in symmetry.

Where Does This Leave Us?

From the personal exchanges and the confidences that readers have shared with me, I can attest to just how powerful this hashkafah is. And just how vital it is that we discuss our spiritual distress with mature talmidei chachamim who have arrived at a holistic understanding of Torah sources and combine it with a human sensitivity that allows real-life experience to find resonance in Torah’s fundamental structure.

To those embroiled in unresolved turmoil over Hashem’s loving nature, know that you are not alone. Use your angst as a pivot point to a more encompassing spiritual discovery. Listen to the guidance of Pirkei Avos: “Make for yourself a rebbi, and acquire for yourself a friend.” Foster relationships with people you find empathetic to your personal struggles and who have answers that resonate with your neshamah.

Pursue your own learning and personal development in the direction of unlocking your own rich inner connection to Hashem’s great love for His people — and for you.

Rabbi Yonah Sklare is a rosh kollel in Baltimore whose shiurim and creativity have attracted a worldwide following. He lectures at numerous local institutions, including Congregation Shomrei Emunah and Women’s Institute of Torah Seminary, and online for Torah Anytime, OU Torah, and Jewish Podcasts. His book on Yetzias Mitzrayim, The Breathtaking Panorama, was released this past March. Rabbi Sklare received semichah and his PhD in Talmudic law from Ner Yisroel Rabbinical College.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1021)