As Medinat Yisrael and the Zionist endeavor grapple with many external and internal challenges, my worries about its future lead me to find comfort and direction in the wisdom of my spiritual mentors from past generations. The paragraph below is an excerpt from the 47th Article of HaRav Yitzchak Hutner’s Pachad Yitzhak on the subject of Pesach. The theme in this paragraph is a recurring motif in the writings of Rav Hutner. In the Article, he distinguishes between two notions of Chesed: Chesed Vitur (Chesed of benevolence) and Chesed Mishpat (Chesed of reward). Chesed Vitur is graciously showered upon us, not as a reward for some deed, but as a result of G-d's abounding goodness. Chesed Mishpat, on the other hand, arrives directly from the actions of man.
Chesed Vitur is not intended to act solely on one qualified or fitting to receive its effects. In the receiving of Chesed Vitur, the value of the receiver isn’t taken into account. The entire idea of this type of Chesed is that it does not consider the status of the receiver. Chesed Mishpat, by contrast, aims to arrive **exclusively to those that are worthy. It endeavors to inspire its receiver to earn these bestowals of Chesed in a fair and upright manner.**
Rav Hutner goes on to shed light on a second motif: the difference between the language of Amira, ‘proclomation,’ found at the creation of the world (“Va’yomer Elokim Yehi Or…”), to the language of Dibur, ‘instruction,’ found at Matan-Torah (“Va’yidaber Hashem el Moshe Le’emor…”):
And herein is the depth of difference between the label of ‘statement’ placed on the creation of the world, to the label of ‘speech’ placed on Matan-Torah. Is it not the simple interpretation that ‘speech’ is harsh and ‘statement’ is gentle? It is obvious that the supposed harshness of ‘speech’ and gentleness of ‘statement’ do not depend on the raising of voices or sharpness of pronouncements, rather on the intention of the communication. If the intention is to lead the receiver, this aim is stamped with the attribute of harshness, and the expression goes out into the world through ‘speech.’ However, in a case where there is no intention of leadership, this lack of purpose stamps him with the attribute of softness, and the expression goes out into the world through ‘statement’. Just look at the word daber in aramaic, which is interpreted to mean leader. And so it is in Tehillim “Yadber Amim Tachteinu” (“He will subject nations under us” [47]).
Next, Rav Hutner connects these two motifs, tying the ‘statement’ of Creation to Chesed Vitur and the ‘speech’ of Matan-Torah to Chesed Mishpat.
And therefore, since the acting effect of Chesed, from Creation until Matan-Torah, comes through the channel of Vitur, in that it doesn’t aim to lead the receiver, the act of Creation will be labeled as ‘statement.’ Conversely, the proclamations of Matan-Torah are called “Dibrot.” Indeed, from Matan-Torah and on, the acting effect of Chesed comes through the channel of Mishpat, in that its essence is to lead the receiver to be worthy of receiving Chesed as a deserved reward.
According to Rav Hutner, the creation of the world is Chesed without restrictions, and, on an individual level: “G-d gave to you life on the face of the Earth as a gift.” G-d, in His infinite goodness, renews Creation every day. Accordingly, each morning we recite the Modeh Ani prayer, in which we praise and thank G-d for returning our souls to our bodies. However, the continuity of life is not contingent on G-d alone, but on us as well: “By the sweat of your brow shall you get bread to eat” (Genesis 3; JPS Translation). “[Only] they who sow in tears shall reap with songs of joy” (Psalms 126; JPS Translation). Through this lens, Chesed’s place in the world is reduced, and its acceptance becomes conditional upon personal effort. While this manner of Chesed does facilitate human empowerment, it also comes with a heavy price: one who abstains from labor of the land may not have food to eat. In the ethical realm, the continuity of life doesn’t depend on labor alone, but also on the proliferation of goodness in the world through proper behavior.
One’s personal task isn’t just the work of their hands, but also the sharing of Torah, and, in conjunction, the seven Noahide Laws, especially the prohibition of murder (see Pachad Yitzchak Shavuot, Article 8). As often seen with Rav Hutner, the ontological, metaphysical wording blurs with and obscures a deeper existential statement, to the point that it is difficult to separate between them.
If we were to judge reality based solely on the results of events and actions, we would arrive at the conclusion that the world is immensely complex, or even downright lacking in goodness. Sometimes the wicked rejoice while the majority don sackcloth and ashes. The promise that the wicked will “be destroyed forever” somewhere down the line does not absolve all sorrow, not to those held in captivity, nor to bereaved families, nor to the friends and teachers of those who have fallen in battle (Psalms 92). Not all who sow in tears will reap in gladness, nor will every decent act be rewarded with abundance. Nonetheless, Rav Hutner's words still contain more than a kernel of truth.
In a Drasha on Yossef and his brothers, Rav Soloveitchik refers to The Mizrachi Movement as “The Joseph of 1902”. He called the movement “Joseph” since he realized ahead of his time that a storm was brewing over The Jewish People, especially in Eastern Europe; he envisioned a future in the Land of Israel, and began to pave the way for a place for Torah in our national home.
In our days, it seems that The Creator has decisively agreed with this classification - that there is no promising future for Eastern European Jewry, and that the Jewish future lies in another land in other conditions. I would like to propose a simple question: What would the Yeshivot and Torah Students who were saved from the Holocaust say if the Zionist Movement had not succeeded in paving the way to the Land of Israel, and failed to continue the Tree of Life from Lithuania and other countries? (חמש דרשות 24)
I am troubled by the above argument for two reasons:
Firstly, the Drasha as a whole emphasizes the success of Mizrachi in saving the world of Torah. I do not dispute the immense role of Religious Zionism in saving the Torah world and its flourishing in Israel. But is its success measured only by its impact on the Torah world? We must not forget that the Zionist movement is responsible for other important changes in Klal Yisrael, such as the return to Israel and the revival of the Hebrew Language. And even so, all the impressive accomplishments pale in comparison to the sad task to which it was assigned: the saving of lives. The very act of participating in an enterprise that saves the lives of tens of thousands is far more meaningful and important than any cultural or spiritual achievement, such as its contribution to Torah, however significant it may be.
Secondly, does the success of Mizrachi in saving Torah guarantee its justifiability? If, G-d forbid, the Zionist movement had failed, would its effort to save lives lack any value? If a Doctor is trying to save a life, even if G-d forbid the patient does not make it, the silent cries, tears, and sweat of the Doctor are kept in the heavenly well.
The Zionist movement is a movement of saving lives; this mission was always intrinsically entangled with it. Sometimes, Israel would leave from the fight for its life battered and bleeding, with even moral scars, as our fallen brothers and others cry out from their place of rest. In order to merit Chesed Mishpat, to follow the righteous path, and to save the World in its entirety, an effort is oftentimes required that is not only physical, but necessitates great mental strength. We do not have the opportunity to carry out this task with totally clean hands, nor the privilege to outlaw work throughout the first days of mourning. This mission calls on our whole bodies and obligates our complete hearts. May it be G-d’s Will that as we raise the sickle of mind and soul we will reap a blessing, and chase away sorrow and grief
