The shomer Shabbos is able to look at the life they have been blessed with and say, “It’s a beautiful world!”

Joy Can Be Found in It

In Search of Happiness / Rebbetzin Aviva Feiner

IT'S

a beautiful world!

Summertime opens our eyes to the majesty in Hashem’s creations. The blue skies and lush greenery shout, “Mah rabu maasecha, Hashem — How wonderful are Your creations, Hashem.”

Yet a sparkling dome sitting on our holiest site mocks us and challenges our happiness as a people. Our people’s tenacity, the fact that we have the DNA of an am keshei oref, was again glaringly obvious as another Chodesh Av passed, and we once again mourned the destruction of Yerushalayim. We still stubbornly cling to hope and happiness despite everything.

The pesukim in Bereishis (2:1-2) that tell us about the world’s first Shabbos say, “Vayechulu haShamayim v’haaretz v’chol tzeva’am. Vayechal Elokim bayom hashevii melachto asher asah, vayishbos bayom hashevii mikol melachto asher asah — Now the Heavens and the Earth and all their hosts were completed. And on the Seventh Day Hashem completed all the work He had done, and He rested on the Seventh Day from all that He had done.” (Bereishis 2:1-2)

In Pachad Yitzchok Shabbos, Rav Yitzchok Hutner points out that many have asked, “What does it mean that Hashem rested on the Seventh Day? Does Hashem get tired?”

Chas v’shalom. Lo yanum v’lo yishan, Shomer Yisrael. The Eibeshter never slumbers or sleeps. (Tehillim 121:4)

Hashem’s “resting” follows the statement that tells us that the world was completed. Rav Hutner posits that the word “vayechulu — completed” is of the same etymology as an Aramaic term used in the Talmud for a house-warming party, a chanukas habayis — “klilah d’beisi.”

A chanukas habayis is a time when a homeowner happily anticipates that he’ll have many sweet years living there. The Ribbono Shel Olam saw His world and said, kiveyachol, “I like it — it’s a good world.” At that point, He Who Is Above Time knew about every catastrophe that would occur from the beginning to the end of all of history. He knew about the destruction of our Batei Hamikdash, the Holocaust, and October 7. And yet He still said, “It’s a good world.” He knew joy can be found in it.

The shomer Shabbos is able to look at the life they have been blessed with and say, “It’s a beautiful world! I’m going to find joy in it!

We’re in the midst of the “Shiva D’nechemta,” the weeks when we read the haftaros of the seven nevuos that are meant to comfort us. There’s comfort in knowing that there is a purpose to our bitter galus and that one day, there will be the most beautiful end to all tzaros very soon. There’s comfort in knowing that while we wait for the galus to end, Hashem has given us so much to uplift us and serve Him with a smile.

Have a safe and rejuvenating summer!

Bitachon in a Bundt Pan

In Real Time / Esther Kurtz

Lately, I’ve found myself baking at least once a week. Nothing major, nothing I need to take a mixer out for (Heaven forbid). But for reasons I have no idea, other than it just happened that way, I made the mocha Bundt cake from the Bais Yaakov cookbook twice.

The cake is delicious and easy; the Bundt pan aspect — iffy. At least I know I’m not alone. There are many forum threads and blog posts devoted to the perfect Bundt pan release. And yet, there’s always the unknown when I slip my cake in the oven, and the moment of truth when I try to release it (after, of course, letting it cool, separating the cake from the pan with a spatula, and many prayers). I never know what will happen, even when I follow the recipe exactly.

The whole bitachon/hishtadlus question is a perennial favorite. The Chovos Halevavos gives us many ways to navigate the seemingly contradictory concept. In perek gimmel he talks about a farmer doing everything to prepare the land — cleaning up, plowing, planting, watering — the works. The farmer invests everything that is in his power and trusts that Hashem will come through in the one part the farmer has no control over — rain. But if the farmer doesn’t prepare, and the rain comes, he has no produce. The farmer does his part; Hashem does His.

Agricultural processes don’t speak to me, but I can see this come alive for me in a Bundt cake. I do everything I’m supposed to do. I mix the wet ingredients with the wet, dry with dry, combine them, flour the pan and whatnot, but ultimately the one thing I have no control over is if that cake comes out whole.

But I still have to follow the recipe if I want any cake at all. Leaving out the eggs is cutting off my nose to spite my face, bitachon/hishtadlus wise.

And it’s working.

My two Bundt cakes came out whole.

Huzzah!

Our Broken Spiritual Barometer

Personal Development / Rebbetzin Dina Schoonmaker, facilitated by Mindel Kassorla

Sometimes you have an experience that leaves you feeling especially elevated. It could be Shacharis at a scenic location, a chesed under unique circumstances, or a rare mitzvah that you were excited to perform.

In our eyes, these opportunities have a special aura around them, and so we tend to imagine that Hashem, too, prefers these mitzvos, and gives more reward for them.

But in truth, our “spiritual barometer” isn’t necessarily accurate or reflective of Hashem’s priorities. A soul-stirring kumzitz is wonderful, and still not necessarily valued by Hashem more than a mundane mitzvah like cooking dinner for your family or davening a weekday Minchah.

There is a general rule in Chazal of “Tadir v’she ’ eino tadir, tadir kodem,” that a mitzvah that is performed more frequently is done before one which is performed less frequently. Now, if you were to ask the average person, he might tell you that a mitzvah that you only have the chance to do once a month or once a year should be prioritized. But this halachic principle teaches us that what feels more spiritual or holy is not necessarily so — that our internal spiritual barometer is not always reliable.

When it comes to the work of Elul, Yamim Noraim, and Aseres Yemei Teshuvah, we may gravitate toward the things that seem to us to be the most holy and unique for this time of year: spending hours in shul, davening an extra-long Shemoneh Esreh, spending extra time reviewing our daily actions.... But at various stages of life, this won’t be possible. Instead, our priorities can and must still be the day-in and day-out regular stuff.

But they don’t feel holy; they don’t feel special.

So what? Chazal tell us that they are.

Understanding that our internal barometer might need some fixing can help us feel more satisfied that we’re doing what Hashem truly wants, even when it doesn’t immediately resonate with us.

Chazal in Maseches Berachos teach that the tefillos said in our makom kavua (such as the set spot in your living room) bring tremendous zechus to a person — and he is called an anav and a chassid, specifically because of this.

So enjoy the mountaintop kumzitz, and if you have the opportunity to spend the whole Yom Kippur in shul — go for it! But know that according to Hashem’s barometer the tefillah in your house and the other seemingly mundane mitzvos rate very high.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 909)