God Intends It For Good?

January 1st: Vayechi
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich

There is a passage in this week’s Torah portion that is both reassuring and disturbing. It is found near the conclusion of Genesis and the Joseph saga, just after Jacob’s funeral. Joseph’s brothers are concerned that, without their father to protect them, Joseph will exact revenge for when they sold him into slavery. Despite the fact that Joseph welcomed the whole family into Egypt and arranged for them to get excellent land, they have apparently been worried for many years. Now, their anxiety reaches a climax as they anticipate their just desserts being served.

“When Joseph’s brothers saw that their father was dead, they said, ‘What if Joseph bears a grudge against us and pays us back for all the wrong that we did to him!’ So they sent this message to Joseph, ‘Before his death, your father left this instruction, “So shall you say to Joseph, ‘Forgive, I urge you, the offense and guilt of your brothers who treated you so harshly.’” Therefore, please forgive the offense of the servants of the God of your father.’ And Joseph was in tears as they spoke to him.

His brothers went to him themselves, flung themselves before him, and said, ‘We are prepared to be your slaves.’ But Joseph said to them, ‘Have no fear! Am I a substitute for God? Besides, although you intended me harm, God intended it for good, so as to bring about the present result—the survival of many people. And so, fear not. I will sustain you and your children.’ Thus he reassured them, speaking kindly to them.” (Genesis 50.15-21)

Though this message is about a particular situation, many interpret this passage as a paradigm. Whatever happens to us—good or bad—is part of God’s plan. Therefore, when something tragic happens, we should console ourselves with faith that the eventual result will be good. Sometimes, this theology can be very comforting—seeing the sadness in this life as steps toward a greater good. It is especially poignant when one considers the sacrifices made in our behalf—by soldiers, police officers, firefighters, and health care professionals. There are those who consciously put themselves in danger’s way for our sakes.

On the other hand, this kind of reasoning can seem to negate the sadness and senseless tragedy that we so often behold and experience. Though Job is told that his understanding of God’s ways pale in comparison to God’s exponentially grand purview, “Who is this who darkens counsel, speaking without knowledge...Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundations?” (Job 38.2-4), the fact that we do not understand makes such faith almost impossible. Seldom are there roadmaps showing how tragedy today will lead to wonderful things tomorrow. And, this kind of reasoning can lead to very troubling questions: Why must the Divine Plan necessitate this particular sacrifice? Did six million need to die for God’s ultimate purpose? Not to be grotesque, but could not a smaller number of deaths have accomplished the same goal? Or more to the point, could not the Eternal God of the Universe come up with a method of persuasion or machination that did not involve so much human suffering? Do God’s “silver linings” require such dark and horrifying clouds?

Like I said, some people find great comfort is the notion of a Divine Plan in which tragedies are necessary steps toward a greater good. “Though you intended me harm, God intended it for good.” Other people find it abhorrent that the Compassionate One would allow us to be so cruelly abused. If God is truly omnipotent (all powerful) and omnibenevolent (all good), then terrible things would not afflict us and make our loved ones suffer.

In philosophy, this is known as the question of theodicy, and it has been debated for at least 3000 years. Among the many answers, one is inspired by a blessing in the traditional liturgy, Blessing #15 in the Weekday Shemonah Esreh/Amidah. 
Baruch Atah Adonai, Matzmi’ach keren yeshu’a.
Matzmi’ach means to plant, like a farmer plants a seed. Keren is a cornucopia, a reservoir full of what is needed. And, yeshu’a is the word for salvation—that which makes our lives meaningful.

There is no way to know whether God puts “silver linings in dark clouds”—using terrible things as vehicles for blessings. However, this benediction suggests that what God plants is not within the dark clouds but within us. God gives us resilience—that combination of will and creative adaptability with which we endure the tragedies that beset us and often recover from them. The solutions we develop do not “justify” the calamities and tragedies, but they do speak of the spirit God places within us to endure and struggle and pursue nobility even in the face of grave difficulty.

Baruch Atah Adonai, Matzmi’ach keren yeshu’a.
We praise You, O Lord, Who plants an abundance of resilience within us.

Baruch Atah Adonai, Shom’raynu, Go’alaynu, v’Tzur yish’aynu.
We praise You, O Lord, Who protects us, Who helps us when we are in difficulty, and Who is our eternal and everlasting hope.