As we close out the book of Vayikra - ToratKohanim - we read about the blessings and curses that are the inevitable consequences of keeping the mitzvot or not.
The chilling and graphic description of what can befall us if we lose HaShem's protection encompasses the horrors of the Roman conquest, the Inquisition and the Shoah. And yet, amazingly, the Zohar teaches that "the Tochacha is a reminder of HaShem's love for the Jewish People."
The Zohar teaches that "the Tochacha is a reminder of HaShem's love for the Jewish People."
The Zohar teaches that "the Tochacha is a reminder of HaShem's love for the Jewish People."
Huh? This is love?
The Ramban, Rashi and others explain the Zohar's remarkable assertion, saying that numerous "hidden blessings" are slipped into the rebuke. For example, the pasuk (32) says: "And I will make the Land desolate; and your enemies who dwell upon it will also be desolate."
Though the Jewish People dwelt in Israel for centuries and made it one of the greatest, most prosperous countries on Earth, the moment we were exiled from the Land, it became a vast wasteland where nothing grew. No important cities dotted the landscape, no lush gardens or fertile orchards flourished. Visitors to the Holy Land in centuries past, like Mark Twain, reported that - Arab lies notwithstanding - Israel was like one giant ghost town for 2,000 years.
What a bracha! Imagine how much more difficult it would have been for Jews to return to Eretz Yisrael if it would have been a productive, bustling entity, rather than a resistant piece of real estate that could hardly be tamed.
And though we are virtually the only Middle East country with no oil, that, too, is a bracha. For if Moshe had turned right, instead of left, and had brought Bnei Yisrael to Saudi Arabia instead of the Holy Land, then the whole world would have lusted after Eretz Yisrael when oil was discovered 100 years ago. And yet, despite our being oil-less (so far!) we have become more prosperous, enlightened and developed than the petro-rich countries which surround us.
And do we appreciate what a gift it is that our enemies are so open and graphic in their hatred for us, how they spell out for all to hear their desperate wish to destroy us? If they were more circumspect, we'd be in so much more danger.
Every k'lala, they say, can be a bracha. Our years of exile and persecution, bitter as they were, taught us to be a persevering, enterprising, resilient people, who could exist under virtually any condition, never losing our hope in the future.
The challenge of Jewish life is to recognize and appreciate our blessings, and acknowledge that. even when we go amiss and require G-d's chastisement, He still finds a way to see that His beloved children eke out a bracha.