The sefer Bais Yaakov relates an encounter that took place between the holy Baal Shem Tov and a certain philosopher who questioned the miraculous nature of Kriyas Yam Suf. The philosopher claimed to have calculated the precise moment when the sea was about to split and assumed that Moshe Rabbeinu had been similarly successful. If so, what was the miracle? It was simply a matter of getting there at the right time.
The philosopher traveled all the way to the Baal Shem Tov in order to present his theory, but when he arrived, the Baal Shem Tov preempted him and summoned the townspeople to hear a drashah during which he utterly demolished the philosopher’s ideas.
Indeed, Kriyas Yam Suf was destined to occur at that particular time from the Creation of the world, the Baal Shem Tov said. Nature was set up in such a way that on this precise date, at that precise hour, the waters would part and Bnei Yisrael would be able to cross. But Who set up nature that way, and why? The philosopher was looking at events backwards, he implied. Bnei Yisrael did not utilize the fortuitous splitting of the Yam Suf to cross the sea — rather, Hakadosh Baruch Hu established the time and place of Kriyas Yam Suf over two thousand years in advance, so that Bnei Yisrael would be able to walk through the waters when they needed to.
Whenever we are awed at so-called natural phenomena, we must remember that Hashem created them — so too, whenever we encounter the different natures of human beings, we must remind ourselves that Hashem made each person the way he or she is. When we come up against “nature” — a broken leg, a smashed glass, an illness — it’s often far easier to say gam zu le’tovah and accept Hashem’s authorship of the event, than it is to accept Hashem’s role in partnering us with someone whose “nature” may conflict with our own. But their nature is from Hashem, too, and it’s our job to learn how to deal with it, not protest against it.
Dealing with difficulties and “breaking” our middos is an integral part of avodas Hashem, but some people have the mistaken belief that this means, “I can do anything if I only put my mind to it,” which is sometimes presented as, “Ain davar omeid bifnei haratzon—Nothing can stand in the way of the will.” However, it’s clear from our sefarim that the bechirah—free will—of a person exists only within specific limits. Not everyone is capable of learning for eight hours at a stretch; not everyone is capable of preparing a seudah for a hundred people and remaining calm and good-natured.
There are always choices to be made within a person’s capacity and those are the decisions we are responsible for. Within a relationship, however, it’s incorrect to expect people to always find a way to agree with each other and alter their natures to accommodate one another. It’s unnatural — it’s against Hashem’s will. Instead, our task is to remember that Hashem made each person’s nature as it is (precisely in order to challenge us in the areas we need to work on), and to learn how to live with each other with the minimum friction and maximum love and acceptance.
