Rav Kluger asks, is it really that simple? Can one just shift their Mazal from the cold west to the warmer east or add a letter to their name, and suddenly have children? Is it as simple as moving from Siberia to Florida?
The Gemara (Ta’anit 25a) recounts a story of Rabbi Eliezer ben Pedat, a poor man who was the Rosh Yeshiva to many students. One day, feeling ill, he went to the doctor, who advised a blood transfusion to reset the elements within his body. He did so, and the doctor recommended he return home and eat something sweet, like chocolate or rogelach – something with all four warning labels plastered on its label. However, upon arriving home, he found his cupboards completely empty. Remembering that his wife had recently bought a string of garlic, he decided to peel a few cloves and eat them, the best he could do under the circumstances. Afterward, he fainted and collapsed.
When Rabbi Eliezer ben Pedat didn’t show up for the morning shiur, his students went to check on him, only to find him unconscious on the floor. Suddenly, he began to cry for several minutes, then smiled widely, and eventually a ray of light was shining from his forehead before he opened his eyes. Surprised to see his students, he asked why they were there. They explained it was late, and he hadn’t arrived for shiur. The rebbe then remembered the events of the morning, including the doctor visit and the garlic. When asked why he had cried, he shared that Hakadosh Baruch Hu had visited him in a vision, where he asked, “Ribbono Shel Olam, until when will I remain so poor that I have nothing at home to eat? Please grant me a little money.” Hakadosh Baruch Hu responded, “What would you like? Do you wish to be wealthy?” He replied, “I don’t want to be wealthy; I just want a little sustenance.” Hakadosh Baruch Hu then said, “I could turn the world back to Tohu V’Vohu (chaos and void) and, perhaps, when re-created you will be born into a different Mazal, one of wealth.” Rabbi Eliezer, astounded, responded, “You would recreate the entire world, just for a possibility of a better Mazal for me? If you told me a new creation would guarantee wealth like Bill Gates, I might consider it. But if it’s just a chance, I’d rather first know if I’ve lived most of my life or if I still have much of it left. If I’m nearing the end, I’d keep things as they are and not bother.”
Hakadosh Baruch Hu informed him that he was close to the end of his life, so Rabbi Eliezer ben Pedat declined the offer, opting to leave things unchanged. As a reward for his acceptance, Hakadosh Baruch Hu granted him a glimpse of the delights awaiting him in Olam Haba, a vision of the ultimate sweetness.
The Rebbe then told his students, “When Hakadosh Baruch Hu told me that my life was nearing its end, I began to cry. But when I saw what awaited me in the World to Come, I smiled.” His students then asked, “And what about the light that seemed to burst as you came out of your sleep?” He replied, “As the angelic entourage of Hakadosh Baruch Hu left the house, one of the angels gave me a friendly slap on the forehead – a gesture of approval and contentment.”
Rav Kluger asks: if Avraham Avinu’s Mazal could be shifted from west to east, why couldn’t Rabbi Eliezer ben Pedat simply be made wealthy in the same way? Why would it require re-creation of the world, and why was even that not a guaranteed solution?
His answer is profound. There exists the option to turn over the entire world and create a new one, but such a process follows the original steps of Creation. This would require Asara Ma’amarot (Ten Utterances) from Hakadosh Baruch Hu, just as in the Creation we know. However, Hakadosh Baruch Hu offered Avraham the chance to undergo this transformation and recreation personally, so that it was man who would be turned over and recreated, rather than the entire world.
How does such a transformation occur within a person? Through enduring ten Nisyonot (tests), a person is recreated. Thus, the first Ma’amar directed to Avraham in his first test was לְךֹאמֶר ה' אֶל אַבְרָם לֶך. The Ba’al HaTurim asked why the term ֹאמֶר is used here, and then immediately followed by the term אֵלָיו ה' דִבֵּר. The answer is that this process was a substitute for the acts of Creation and therefore mirrored the same Ma’amarot (וַיֹאמֶר אֱלֹהִים יְהִי אוֹר). The ten Nisyonot parallel and fulfill the purpose of the ten Ma’amarot, achieving a new Creation within Avraham himself.
This is Rav Shlomo Kluger’s introduction, and now we can delve into the core of his idea, a truly wondrous concept. A person with children to continue their path is called עוֹמֵד (standing), whereas one without children is referred to as הוֹלֵךְ (going or leaving). Typically, we associate Omed with angels and Holech with humans, but here Rav Kluger reverses the meaning.
When someone is called to the Torah for an Aliyah, they’re called by name and their father’s name: יַעֲמֹד מֹשֶׁה בֶּן דָּוִד. This calling praises the father, even if he passed away long ago – he stands here as his name lives on through the deeds of his children. But for someone who leaves no children, that name no longer stands in this world after their passing unless they leave behind institutions or legacies, like the Chazon Ish or R’ Meir Shapira of Lublin. Just consider how many people visit their graves daily or on their yahrzeit; their legacy lives on powerfully. Millions study Daf Yomi in the merit of R’ Shapira. Though they departed without children, they left institutions of eternal impact. Such a person, whose name and influence remain in the world forever, is also called עוֹמֵד – standing.
With that, let’s go back and relearn the Mishna together:
עֲשָׂרָה נִסְיוֹנוֹת נִתְנַסָּה אַבְרָהָם אָבִינוּ עָלָיו הַשָּׁלוֹם וְעָמַד בְּכֻלָּם, לְהוֹדִיעַ כַּמָּה חִבָּתוֹ שֶׁל אַבְרָהָם אָבִינוּ עָלָיו הַשָּׁלוֹם:
Why ten tests, rather than five or seven like those given to his son and grandson? It is because Avraham’s ten tests correspond to the ten Ma’amarot with which the world was created, but in his case, they re-created him. Through this transformation, his Mazal shifted from west to east, allowing him to have children. With children following his path, Avraham was no longer referred to as Holech but rather as Omed. Thus, upon completing these tests, it says וְעָמַד בְּכֻלָּם.
While many expressions could describe his success, only Omed reflects the generational transformation and new creation that resulted from these tests. לְהוֹדִיעַ כַּמָּה חִבָּתוֹ – to demonstrate the depth of affection for him, he was given the opportunity to transform through tests, rather than requiring the world to be re-created and risking an uncertain outcome.
We can now grasp something incredible. The Midrash tells us:
נִסָּיוֹן אַחֲרוֹן כְּנִסָּיוֹן הָרִאשׁוֹן, נִסָּיוֹן הָרִאשׁוֹן בְּלֵךְ לְךָ מֵאַרְצְךָ וּמִמּוֹלַדְתֶּךָ, וְנִסָּיוֹן אַחֲרוֹן בְּלֶךְ לְךָ אֶל אֶרֶץ הַמֹּרִיָה.
The last trial was similar to the first. At the first trial, Hashem said to Avram: “Go out from your country and you’re your family”, and at the last trial He said: Go to the land of Moriah. The first test, Lech Lecha, relates to Avraham as a Holech, one who had no children. After enduring the tests, he would become an Omed, one able to have children. But there was one final obstacle: the test of Akeidat Yitzchak, where Avraham was commanded to sacrifice his long-awaited son, which would have left him once again a Holech. Therefore, in this ultimate test, he again received the command with the words וְלֶךְ-לְךָ אֶל־אֶרֶץ הַמֹּרִיָה.
This is a wonderful yesod in our Avodat Hashem, drawn from the Torah of Rav Shlomo Kluger. Let’s take it forward one final step before preparing ourselves to land at next week’s shiur.
There are several opinions regarding the exact tests included in the ten referred to in the Mishna. The simplest summary, found in Midrash Tanchuma, states that the first test began with Lech Lecha, and the final test also began with Lech Lecha. But this raises a straightforward question: why compare the first and last tests? The Midrash then expresses uncertainty about which of the two was greater or more challenging, yet how can they even be compared? The last test, the Akeidah, appears to be vastly more difficult than the first. The first Lech Lecha promised that Hakadosh Baruch Hu would make Avraham into a great nation, bless him, and make his name great. And all it involved was leaving behind a place where he had narrowly escaped death by fire. How are the two even comparable?
Yet, we should not underestimate this journey; it was a lengthy and difficult path spanning one hundred years, with many periods void of the reward and blessings he had been promised. The journey was a continuous test of faith: faith while being destitute; faith while being without food, home, or possessions; faith while still childless despite the promise of a son; faith when descending to Egypt only to have his wife accosted and kidnapped; faith upon returning home as an unknown, still in debt, without the promised riches. Avraham Avinu persevered through it all, never once questioning if or when the promises would materialize.
How did Avraham stand up to this test? Rav Kluger explains that Avraham withstood this test by understanding that the more one is tested, the more Hakadosh Baruch Hu loves them. But even so, how did he endure the challenges?
I saw an answer in Sukas Dovid, which will serve as the opening to our shiur next week. Rabbi Dovid Kviat comments on the opening Pasuk in Parshat Chayei Sarah, specifically on the final three words: שְׁנֵי חַיֵי שָׂרָה. After detailing “one hundred years, twenty years, and seven years,” why add a summary that “These are the years of Sarah’s life”? Rashi explains: כֻּלָּן שָׁוִין לְטוֹבָה – all her years were equally good.
Sukas Dovid questions if this was truly so. How could her 75 years of childlessness be as good as the years with a child? Could her time locked away in Egypt, or being taken by Avimelech, or enduring Hagar and Yishmael in her home, really have been as pleasant as the time spent with her newborn?
He answers that the years were not all equal in goodness by circumstance, but one can make their entire life filled with goodness by adopting the mindset: הַכֹּל לְטוֹבָה – everything is for the good. By affirming that it will be good, we shape our reality, trusting that Hakadosh Baruch Hu acts in our best interest, even when we cannot see it. Though we may not be consulted, we hold faith that כׇּל דְּעָבֵיד רַחֲמָנָא לְטָב עָבֵיד – Everything that G-d does, He does for the best. This was the perspective of Avraham and Sarah. Their lives were equally good because they viewed every moment as directed by Hakadosh Baruch Hu and inherently good.
Avraham expressed וְאָנֹכִי עָפָר וָאֵפֶר – I am but dust and ashes, indicating that by leaving behind all memory of his family and home in his first test, he was reduced to nothing, to dust. The final test also symbolized עָפָר וָאֵפֶר with the ashes of the Korban, as he faced the possibility of having no family left. In response, Hakadosh Baruch Hu granted him two mitzvot involving dust and ashes: the dust of the Sotah water, and the ashes of the Para Adumah.
The Klausenburger Rebbe exemplified the idea of rebuilding his life anew – and the lives of many around him in addition to giant institutions of Torah – after losing his entire family in the Shoah, when he, too, was reduced to a state of dust and ashes. He recounts his entry into Auschwitz with his father, who, despite hearing that their home village had been burned, continued to smile – a trait of optimism the Rebbe says he inherited. The Rebbe writes that the Gemara teaches one must bless the bad just as they bless the good, for everything Hakadosh Baruch Hu does is for the good. He brings a Midrash that says tzaddikim only eat from Gezel and always say Kedarlaomer. What does this mean exactly? The word ל"גז stands for ג"ז לְטוֹבָה וּ – this too is for the good, and ר"כדרלעומ stands for כׇּל דְּעָבֵיד רַחֲמָנָא לְטָב עָבֵיד. For the righteous, all they partake in is a blessing, for they recognize and trust that everything Hakadosh Baruch Hu does is indeed for the good.
We asked how Avraham Avinu stood through and passed the ten tests. It wasn’t because he relied on the promises made to him eventually coming true; it was because he followed כַּאֲשֶׁר דִּבֶּר אֵלָיו ה' – he did as Hakadosh Baruch Hu commanded him, knowing that everything was ultimately for the good. May Hakadosh Baruch Hu reveal this goodness in our own lives, speedily in our time!
