Suffering In Sapphire
Parshas Mishpatim: Sensing purpose in pain
It would be nice to believe that our difficulties count for something. Viktor Frankl's classic book, Man's Search for Meaning, builds on Nietzsche's notion that 'he who has a reason for living can bear almost any suffering'. He proposes that our ability to tolerate hardship increases when we see adversity as one aspect of a larger agenda. By establishing a purpose beyond ourselves, we can transcend our self-imposed limitations and achieve extraordinary feats.
Modern neuroscience supports Nietzsche's thesis. We now know that pain and suffering are neurologically different experiences emitted from distinct parts of the brain. Theoretically, it is possible to live with intense pain without being overwhelmed by suffering. Further studies show that the psychological context of physical distress is just as influential as the degree of pain itself. Someone who perceives a slap as malicious will endure far more pain. Conversely, an individual who believes an illness is curable will find it substantially more bearable.
Sadly, we live in a world devoid of the spiritual substance required to endow our experiences with meaning. Frankl himself observed that the current generation routinely forgoes religious insight and "instead confronts the Doctor with questions such as "what is the meaning of life?" Using prescription pills, we try in vain to satisfy the human quest for self-discovery, naively believing that a superficial fix can fill the gaping void.
In this weeks, Parsha we can discern a two-pronged approach to locating meaning in misery. The verse states:
And they saw the God of Israel — beneath his feet was sapphire flooring, pure as the heavens.
{Shemos 24:10}
A physical description of an incorporeal God is certainly not intended to be taken at face value and has a mystical significance beyond our current scope. However, the Midrashic literature surrounding this portrayal provides insight into the question we have at hand:
A child was born to Rachel, the granddaughter of Mesushelach, while she was laying mortar and got caught in the brick mould. Her piercing cry ascended to the Throne of Glory. The angel Michael descended and took the brick and lifted it, placing it beneath God's feet. As the verse states, "they saw the God of Israel — by his feet was sapphire flooring, pure as the heavens." Meaning the brick that was made from the child.
{Midrash cited by the Chizkuni to Shemos 24:10}
The Bais Yaakov, inspired by the Midrash's vivid imagery, evocatively suggests that at Mount Sinai, the Jewish people finally understood that their tremendous suffering had shaped them into a nation worthy of God, transmuted and transformed like a brick of clay into a dazzling sapphire stone. This was the symbolic implication of the vision.
From here, we can discern the first facet of our two-pronged approach. In due course, we will see how our specific travails enabled us to reach our ultimate goal. The description of the world to come as a place of 'menucha' rest is oft-misunderstood. An incorrect conception of Oilam Haboh equates it with a long break after a tiring workday. Here there is no connection between one's pleasure and the struggle that preceded it. Instead, we should view the world to come as the culmination of a long journey; everything one has done until now has led to this moment of rest. Our pain itself will thus become a source of immense pleasure following the revelation of its critical role in our final development.
Viewing tribulation as a vital facet of our spiritual journey is one productive way of facing up to our challenges. Yet inevitably, we will sometimes experience such an approach as unnatural or artificial. Because whilst we may trust in eventual revelation, such a belief is not always coherent with the extreme emotions encountered in the present moment.
So what, then, is the second strategy for addressing the state of suffering? Rashi's comment on our verse provides some direction. He informs us that these sapphire stones had been before God throughout the Egyptian servitude, so to speak, reminding him of our suffering.
Being born into the modern western world, we are all intellectual children of Aristotle. The spiritual ramification of this fact is that we struggle to relate to God as an actual entity present in our lives. It is easy to fall into the trap of regarding God as a mere mental abstraction, seeing Him as Aristotle's unmoved mover but not simultaneously sensing his unwavering presence. As a result, our daily struggles appear distant and disconnected from his reality.
But as Rashi poignantly reminds us, this is far from the truth. God, so to speak, constantly places our struggles under his gaze. He stands alongside us in our suffering. We need to reclaim the art of 'Emunah peshuta' or simple belief. Rav Shimshon Pincus explains that simple belief does not mean conviction without intellectual vigour - as it is sometimes portrayed. Instead:
Emunah peshuta demands that we experience God as a straightforward reality rather than the hypothetical output of an intricate philosophical theory. God's presence should feel like the most natural thing in the world.
While suffering is undoubtedly a miserable state of being, perhaps we can attempt to utilise its occurrence as a means of clawing back the personal feeling for God. In line with what we have been discussing, the Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard observed that many men had amassed volumes of technical knowledge. However, they possessed almost no insight into that which was most close to them - the self. He suggests that only "suffering directs a man to look within", but I would venture a step further than that. Suffering can be more than just a window into the self. It can actually open us up to a relationship with a God who we know is perpetually aware of our pain.
Trapped by suffocating darkness, it is possible to transform the present moment of suffering into something infinitely meaningful. The only way we can do so is by striving to discern our heavenly Father's intimate affection.
Good Shabbos, and Keep Pondering!
Yaacov, beautiful as always. I get a real kick out of the way you quote all these philosophers so off-handedly. Especially Nietzche. The parshsa with Nietzche. Who woulda thunk it?