Imagine being offered a bracha: “May your entire life go smoothly. No struggles. No obstacles. No difficult nisyonos.” Wouldn't that sound like the greatest bracha possible? Perhaps it is exactly the opposite.
When Hashem cursed the Nachash, He told him, “V’afar tochal kol yemei chayecha” — “You will eat dust all the days of your life” (Bereishis 3:14). The meforshim ask, What kind of curse is this? Dust is everywhere! The Nachash would never have to worry about finding food. While every other creature must search and struggle for its parnassah, the Nachash would always have its food right in front of him. It sounds more like a tremendous bracha than a curse.
Rav Moshe Sternbuch shlita, in Biurim V'Hanhagos, explains this with a story from his rebbi, Rav Moshe Schneider zt"l. A talmid came to Rav Schneider shortly before his wedding and asked for a bracha. Rav Schneider asked him, "What bracha would you like?" The young man answered that he wanted his entire life to go glatt. Everything should run smoothly, without nisyonos, obstacles or difficulties.
Rav Schneider told him, "That is not a bracha." A person was placed into this world specifically to face challenges and overcome them. Therefore, Rav Schneider gave him a different bracha: He should indeed encounter the challenges that are part of his tafkid in life, but Hashem should give him the siyata diShmaya and strength to overcome them.
With this says Rav Shternbuch, Yes, the Nachash would have an easy life. His food would always be available. But that itself was the curse. A life without struggle is not necessarily a blessed life. It is through overcoming obstacles and nisyonos that a person grows and reaches greatness. Before its curse, the Nachash possessed intelligence. Had it retained that elevated existence, it could have faced challenges and grown through overcoming them. Instead, it was condemned to an existence without that opportunity.
This yesod gives us a new understanding of a Gemara in Shabbos (88:). The Gemara relates that when Moshe Rabbeinu ascended to Shamayim to receive the Torah, the malachim protested. How could Hashem take His precious Torah, which had been hidden for generations before Creation, and give it to human beings?
Hashem told Moshe to answer them. Moshe asked the malachim: What does the Torah say? “Lo sirtzach" - do not murder. “Lo Sachmod." Do you have jealousy? Do you have a Yetzer Hara? The malachim were forced to agree that the Torah belonged below.
But the question remains. How did Moshe's argument completely answer them? Even if there are certain mitzvos that malachim cannot perform, perhaps they could still receive the parts of Torah that do apply to them. After all, even among Klal Yisrael not everyone can perform every mitzvah. Some mitzvos apply only to Kohanim, some only to men, and others only under specific circumstances. Yet the entire Torah was given to all of Klal Yisrael.
The answer is that Moshe was telling the Malachim, the purpose of Torah is not merely to perform mitzvos. The greatness of Torah is to serve Hashem while facing a struggle.
A person feels jealous and controls himself. He has a Yetzer Hara pulling him in one direction yet chooses what Hashem wants. He is tired but learns anyway. Something is difficult, yet he continues. That struggle itself creates kavod Shamayim.
Moshe Rabbeinu was telling the malachim: You may be holy, but you do not have our nisyonos. You do not have jealousy, hatred, competition or a Yetzer Hara. Klal Yisrael does. And when a Yid faces those forces and nevertheless chooses Hashem, that is precisely the Torah Hashem desires.
There was once a remarkable bachur in Eretz Yisrael who possessed an almost photographic memory. He could look at a page of Gemara and seemingly photograph it in his mind, later repeating it word for word. Then one day, this extraordinary gift disappeared. His memory became ordinary.
Brokenhearted, the bachur went to the Steipler Gaon zt”l and asked for a bracha that his incredible memory should return. The Steipler responded in Yiddish, “That is not a bracha. That is a curse. I don't curse bachurim!"
The Steipler explained: Does Hashem need a camera inside someone's head? If you review your learning, struggle to understand it, work to remember it and put effort into your Torah, that is a bracha.
The bachur continued pleading. He mentioned various Gedolim who were known to possess extraordinary memories. But the Steipler refused. Certainly, for those Gedolim their remarkable memories were a bracha and helped them reach tremendous heights in Torah and Yiras Shamayim. But the Steipler understood that for this particular bachur, effortless memory would deprive him of something even more precious: yegias haTorah.
We naturally daven that life should be easy. Certainly, no one should ask for nisyonos or difficulties. But when Hashem does send a challenge, we should remember that the challenge does not mean that our opportunity for growth has disappeared. Very often, the challenge is the opportunity.
The Nachash received a life with no struggle for its food. That was its curse. A Yid is given something far greater: the opportunity to struggle, overcome, grow and become closer to Hashem.
A life without challenges may look easier. A life in which we overcome them is infinitely greater.