FOOTSTEPS OF OUR FATHERS | Avos 2 Mishna 4

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FOOTSTEPS OF OUR FATHERS

Perek Avos 2 Mishna 4

Harav Y. Reuven Rubin Shlita

We have all been there, the little dramas that colour each life. Let me share just one such snippet with you.

Last week I was driving along the roadway, listening to a lively Chasidic nigun, my finger tapping to its cadence. All of a sudden, I felt a change. I looked at the dashboard of my car and was shocked to see all the warning lights ablaze. Uh oh, even I realised something was amiss. I noticed that all the dials were stationary, and it wasn’t too long before the motor had died out and I was coasting at a rapidly lessening pace on what is a busy thoroughfare. With some trepidation and a lot of prayer I somehow got my car to the side of the road. Out came the mobile phone, as I scrambled through my wallet seeking the phone number of the emergency service. My hands were wet from anxiety, and I was pretty upset that my car had the sheer chutzpa to die on me on what was a perfect day. I had meetings to get to and places to go; after all, I am a Rabbi, and people need me (so I like to think).

Anyway, to make a long story a bit shorter, I finally reached the automotive saviours and was promised that within an hour help would be at hand.

“An hour? Hey, I’m important,” I desperately pleaded.  “Sorry sir, an hour it is.”

An hour and a quarter later my help arrived in the form of a huge yellow van with brightly flashing lights. The mechanic came out of his vehicle, smiled broadly and asked what the problem was. I told him that the car seemed to have suffered a major stroke and no longer responded to my ministrations. “Pop open the boot,” he ordered. “Eh, I am from America. What’s a boot, and how does one pop it?” Another smile; this time the smile one sees when bright folk are in conversation with dolts. So my new-found guide popped the boot (read: hood) and peered under it. “Oh dear,” he sighed, “Oh dear, oh dear….” With each “Oh” my heart sank a bit deeper. “It’s your alternator.”

My alternator? I didn’t even know I had one. Suffice it to say that the said bit of paraphernalia is necessary for the working of the internal combustion machine, and without it I was not going anywhere.

“What can you do to help me?” “We tow you to the garage.” Tow – as in schlep through the streets. My friends, this day was definitely taking on a grey pallor.

The man with the yellow van was soon hooking my car to his van with a long, metal hose-like thing. As he did this, he explained to the me how I was meant to steer my car from behind him. It all sounded a bit daunting, and to be honest, I was quite disturbed with visions of me swerving alongside him at great speed with absolutely no power. Baruch Hashem all survived the eight-mile trip to the garage, but not without some trepidation on my part.

As I was being schlepped along the byways of my city, I began to wonder what Hashem wanted me to learn from this little adventure. Being attached to the van through what can only be described as a lifeline made me think of how our lives are meant to be lived. We are all attached to the eternal lifeline that is The Eibishter’s Will. Stuff happens along the way and we sometimes lose our courage and fear we will swerve off the path. However, if we trust and remain focused on the truth of the Torah, we will always find our way.    I have experienced life cynics who will often ask, “Rabbi, most of the world is driving along life’s highway without a thought of Hashem.  They seem to be going their merry way with great comfort, so what are you talking about?” In answer, let me challenge you to look into those people’s hearts. Are they truly happy? Do they live a life that offers them true tranquility no matter what happens? How well do they handle life’s tribulations?  Are they really pain -free?  We live in a society that has tried to disconnect themselves from that eternal lifeline. Do they ever feel safe within themselves, or will there always be those areas where they find themselves betwixt and between?

As Torah Jews, we may feel we can pat ourselves confidently on the back and say that at least we know Who is guiding our path through life, I certainly hope such is the case. However, sadly there are some who have allowed themselves to travel on autopilot, living a lifestyle of pick and choose when they give over their lives entirely to Hashem.

This mishna tells us, “Do His will as if it were your will, so that He may do your will as if it were His will. Negate your will before His will, so that He may negate the will of others before your will.” If we are focused on doing things truly because it is the will of Hashem, we will become so imbued with Hashem’s spirit that our own feelings will become synonymous with His guidance. Hashem has given us choices, and we can slide off His Divine path, but then we can expect only the anxiety and chaos that follows. If we are His, if we strive to do His will because it is His will, then our own thinking will be in tune with the Divine source.

It is no easy thing to tackle one’s ego and turn away from it. We all want to feel that we are in control, and that what we want should be obtainable. When we come up against the conflict between Hashem’s will and our own, we have to be ready to admit that such is the case, and the choice is the challenge. It may seem so simple a choice, but if we are to be honest with ourselves, we must delve into the murky waters of our own egoism.

This is one of life’s greatest challenges. Do we actually make a choice? Or are we comfortable where we are and hence never really think of where the path of life is going? The first challenge for each of us is to honestly ascertain what motivates our lifestyle preferences. When we develop such an intuitive sense of where Hashem wants us to be, then we will be in sync with the wholeness that is our being.

When working with those who are seeking a Torah life after living in the secular world one can see this so very clearly; the change is miraculous and the satisfaction is immense. It is also interesting to note that those who seem implacable and totally against any change, even for the better, will change their view when touched by those who truly live a Torah life. The greatest kiruv tool we have is the totality of our own convictions.

Yes, you may be schlepped behind a tow truck, but if that van in front is headed in the direction of safety, then you should be pleased indeed.

In his masterful sefer on Pirkei Avos, Rav Yosef Stern finishes his explanation of this mishna with the following: “The final words of the Bendiner Rav [son-in-law of the Sfas Emes] are a perfect example of the mesiras nefesh called for in our mishna. After completing his Friday night meal and sensing that his end was near, he exclaimed, ‘Merciful Father, if this is Your wish [that I die], it is also my wish.’ With this powerful paraphrase of our mishna, this great tzaddik was niftar.