| Breakdown to Breakthrough: Finding Purpose in the Pain Over the past few years, psychologists have been exploring how people respond to crisis — whether it’s a personal loss, a war, or a global challenge. One study from 2023, published in the International Journal of Applied Positive Psychology — interestingly from Israel, just months before the war — found something remarkable: people who face deep hardship and pause to re-evaluate what truly matters to them don’t just bounce back… they grow. This idea is called post-traumatic growth. The turning point isn’t just surviving the pain — it’s using it to reconnect to your deeper sense of purpose. We find a powerful parallel to this idea in this week’s Torah portion, where nearly half of the second portion is taken up by the tochacha — a long, difficult section describing the painful consequences of a life disconnected from G-d. It’s intense. But then, right afterward, the Torah makes a surprising shift. It transitions into a section called erchin. Now, erchin might not be familiar to everyone but in the times of the Beit HaMikdash (ancient Temple in Jerusalem), there was a powerful option for people who wanted to express their Jewish dedication in a personal way. If someone experienced a moment of clarity — maybe they were going through something, or had been saved from something, or simply wanted to reconnect — they could pledge a monetary offering to the Temple. This offering wasn’t random; it was based on symbolic values the Torah assigned to people of different ages and stages of life. It’s not about your financial worth, it’s a personal message between you and G-d equivalent to saying, Hashem, I want to give something of myself. I want to show that my life has meaning, and I want to use that meaning for something higher. In short, right after the Torah describes the suffering the Jewish people will endure if they forgot about their Jewish identity or consciously move away from it, we are reminded of something we unfortunately forget—you still matter. You still have purpose. Your value isn’t erased by suffering — it may even be revealed through it. The great Chassidic Rebbe, the Chozeh of Lublin, explains that after hearing about suffering, exile, and persecution, Jews might internalize the lies the nations of the world have told them — that they’re worthless, that they don’t matter. The Torah’s answer is immediate and emphatic: you do matter both as a people and as individuals; every soul has value. But there’s something even deeper here. When people experience upheaval — a war, a loss, a major life shift like retirement, moving to a new place, or even becoming more religious — they often start asking deeper questions: What am I really living for? What do I believe in? What kind of life do I want to build? After describing the trauma of disconnection, it turns and asks: What are your values? What do you stand for? What are you willing to give — not just in money, but in time, in energy, in heart? We’re now nearly 600 days into the war in Israel and less than 48 hours since the tragic murder of Yaron Lischinsky and Sarah Lynn Milgrim, the young couple who worked at the Israeli Embassy and were about to be engaged. The war and its aftermath continue to shake the Jewish world. We feel the pain of our brothers and sisters in Israel — the soldiers, the families, the hostages, and in the diaspora, we’re facing antisemitism in ways many of us never imagined. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed. But something else is happening too. A spark is being lit. Young Jews are wearing Jewish stars again—not just as jewelry, but as statements of identity. People are showing up, donating, volunteering, learning. Soldiers on the front lines are putting on tzitzis. Men who never wore tefillin are reaching for them. Women who never lit Shabbat candles are lighting for the first time in their lives. This is the Torah’s message. After a crisis, we don’t just cope — we recalibrate. We grow. We realign. Wherever you are on your journey — observant, traditional, just beginning — take a moment this week to ask: What are my values? What do I want to stand for? Where do I want to invest my time, my passion, my energy? How can I live more deeply, more connected — to my people, to G-d, to myself? May we all rediscover the infinite worth inside ourselves and one another. And may that rediscovery lead us — personally and nationally — to healing, clarity, and redemption. Good Shabbos |
