“RABBI’S MUSINGS (& AMUSINGS)”
Erev Shabbos Kodesh parshas Yisro
19 Shevat 5780/February 14, 2020
G-D’S LAUGHTER
I can’t
say I’m very fluent in Yiddish, though I wish I was. Like many Orthodox Jews, I
know “ah bissel”. From my years in Yeshiva and hearing derashos, I have
gleaned more of the “shprach”. I know enough to quote things to my
students in Yiddish to make them think I know Yiddish. But there’s always at
least one student who - when I say something in Yiddish - gives me a funny
knowing look that says “rabbi, both of us know that that didn’t make any sense
grammatically.”
For many
of us, Yiddish is the language our parents or grandparents spoke when they
didn’t want their children to understand what they were saying. A friend told
me his mother’s most common refrain was her saying to his father, “nisht
fahr dee kinder - not in front of the kids!”
My Bubby
a’h would often quote Yiddish aphorisms. When I would ask her what they meant,
she would always say the same thing - “it doesn’t translate well into English”.
When she did translate them, to my young mind, they indeed sounded nonsensical.
It always seemed to be something about how you can’t make food under some
strange condition, like you can’t make pancakes when it’s snowing. And it
always had some deep explanation that I never understood how it connected to
the saying.
There is
undoubtedly a tremendous wealth of profound wisdom in those ancient Yiddish
sayings. Rabbi Dovid Cohen (of Brooklyn) authored a sefer called “Yiddish- the
holy language”, in which he discusses the biblical and Talmudic sources for
many Yiddish sayings.
One of
the most famous and oft-quoted Yiddishisms is “der mentsch tracht oon Gut
lacht - man plans and G-d laughs.” Its clear message is that we have no
guarantees or assurances that we will be able to follow through on anything.
Even our best-laid and best-intentioned plans are subject to change because of
circumstances beyond our control. Rabbi Cohen suggests that one possible source
for this aphorism is the pasuk recited each morning: “many are the thoughts in
the heart of man, but the plan of Hashem - it is what endures” (Mishlei 19:21).
The
poignant wording “and G-d laughs” is meant to emphasize our vulnerability and
limited perspective. However, it can also be easily misunderstood. I recently
read an article in which the author noted that so many things he had hoped for
and worked hard to achieve, did not work out. He then added that he had enough
of G-d laughing at him.
It was a
painful statement and it got me thinking. Granted, it’s not an ancient
statement from Chazal. Still, if it has entered the lexicon of the Jewish
people - as Rabbi Dovid Cohen explained - it means that it has some depth.
Clearly, G-d doesn’t laugh mockingly or derisively. So what does it mean that
G-d “laughs” at our plans?
The
Chofetz Chaim relates a parable about a guest visiting a city for Shabbos.
After davening on Shabbos morning, the guest approached the Gabbai and
questioned why he had given aliyos to people from all sides of the shul. Wouldn’t
it have made more sense to just call up seven people from the same row? The
Gabbai replied that being that he was only a guest, he could hardly understand
the reason for each Aliyah. The first Aliyah went to the Kohain who sat in the
front, the Levi was in the back, the fellow who got Shlishi has yahrtzeit,
revi’i went to a man who is celebrating his birthday etc. How could a person
come for one Shabbos and expect to understand everything happening in that
town?
To give
a more contemporary example: If a person enters a movie theater a half hour
after the movie started, he won’t understand what is happening in the movie. To
the annoyance and consternation of the other viewers, he will likely spend the
next few minutes questioning what is happening and why the characters are
acting as they are. If he then leaves a half hour before the movie ends and the
resolution is achieved, he will be even more confused.
My
rebbe, Rabbi Berel Wein, notes that we enter this world long after the story
has begun, and we leave this world long before the story reaches its
resolution. How can we expect to understand why things occur as they do?
A young
boy learns about the September 11th attacks and the subsequent war on terror.
His father is a police officer who was injured in the September 11th attacks.
He comes homes and asks his father if the American army is so powerful, why
don’t they just kill all the terrorists and the whole problem will be solved?
His father laughs.
Is the
father laughing at his son? Is he mocking his son? Not at all; he is laughing
at his son’s naïveté and his inability to grasp the complexity and difficulty
of the matter, to think it can be solved so simply.
Not only
does Hashem not laugh at our pain, but the Gemara relates that He feels our pain,
and suffers along with us (Sanhedrin 46a).
Perhaps
the expression about “G-d laughing”, is to highlight our inability to understand
how the world works and why things need to happen as they do. We can hardly see
the bigger picture and so we have to rely on our faith that it’s truly all for
the best. Perhaps it is meant to intimate that in the celestial worlds where
things are clear they laugh at our annoyance when we don’t understand why
things happen. But they surely never laugh at our pain, frustration, and
anguish. On the contrary!
Shabbat Shalom & Good Shabbos,
R’ Dani and Chani Staum