Man Plans, G-d Laughs

The Folly Of Living In A Dream

By Rabbi Yoseph Kahanov Jax, Fl.

Return one day before your death! (Pirkei Avos 2:10)

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Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev once encountered a man scurrying about. “What has you so harried,” asked the Rabbi. “Can’t you tell? I am pursuing my livelihood,” said the man.

“What makes you so sure that you are chasing your livelihood?” continued the Rabbi. “Perhaps it is behind you and all you are doing is running away from it?”

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A Jewish peasant, who eked-out a meager livelihood farming a small parcel of land, had but one dream; a bigger plot to till. He prayed to G-d incessantly for this wish to come true.

One Kol Nidrei night, after everyone had left the little Synagogue in his small Polish town, the peasant tarried. Reciting Psalms, he poured out his soul unto G-d. Then he approached the Holy Ark and cried out: “Please dear Lord, if only I could have a few more acres to plow, how sweet my life would be!”
The local duke, who owned practically all the land in the area, happened to pass the Synagogue that very evening. Noticing the burning lights, he curiously peeked in to see what the Jews were up to at that late hour. He opened the door just as the man was offering his moving plea.

The duke approached the praying Jew: “Chaim, I overheard your rending petition and am deeply moved. Now, I am willing to make you a generous offer: The day after your fast, present yourself before dawn at the gate of my palace. You will walk through my fields and orchards. All the land that you are able to cover during the day shall be yours. But you must return by sunset, otherwise you shall get nothing.”

Hearing these words the peasant kissed the nobleman’s hands in gratitude and rushed off to share the good news with his family.
The morning after Yom Kippur, well before dawn, Chaim was on his way to the designated meeting place, followed by his wife and children. At the duke’s signal he began to walk. Seeing all the fertile land, he quickly increased his pace.

“Chaim, please take it easy! – your heart,” implored his wife, who could hardly keep up with him.

“Can’t you see that every moment means more land for us? Tomorrow I shall have plenty of time to slowdown. But now I must plunge ahead. Take the kids and go home.”

As he continued running, an old neighbor beckoned to him: “Chaim, you are a warmhearted person. Please help me with a small loan for a short time; you will save a man from ruin.”

Chaim, who had a big heart, would’ve loved to help the guy out, but he couldn’t be bothered now. Time was just too precious. So he rushed on, yelling: “I’m really sorry.” “Tomorrow when I’m rich,” he told himself, “I will not just give the man a loan, I’ll make him secure for the rest of his life.”
Circling towards the west, the sun was beginning to set as Chaim approached the little Synagogue where only the other night his prayer was answered. “It is time for Mincha,” beckoned someone at door. “Come in, we need a Minyan. You can help a Yahrtzeit say Kaddish. It will take only a few minutes.”

Out of breath by now, Chaim motioned with his hands that he could not stop. “It’s okay,” he told himself, “Soon I’ll be rich; I’ll do more than help with the Minyan; I’ll rebuild the entire Shul.” But now I must keep going, there are yet a few more acres to cover.”

Picture the scene. The sun is sinking rapidly and Chaim is heading for the starting point. His legs are heavy as lead, his mouth dry as dust and his heart pounding like a drum. He knows that for his own good he should stop, but determined to “succeed” – to acquire as much land as possible – he continues running even faster.

As the last rays of the setting sun touches the treetops, Chaim plunges toward the starting point and falls to the ground. Alas he is dead!
Before long the duke appears. With a wry smile he calls to his son: “Ivan, take a hoe and go to the Jewish cemetery, dig a grave six feet long and three feet wide and see to it that Chaim is put to rest. Now, that’s all the land he will ever need!”

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If this guy Chaim seems familiar, it’s no surprise. The world is actually replete with his ilk. Truth be told, most of us possess a touch of Chaim ourselves.

How often do we respond to our wives pleas for some more time together in frustration: “For whom do you think I do all this, if not for you and the kids? As things become more established life will calm down. We’ll then be able to spend lots of time together as a family. . .” The promise is seldom realized.
When our children implore: “Daddy, help me with my homework,” or “read me a story,” how often do we turn them down? “Daddy is too busy right now. Soon Daddy will be able to take it easy and give you all the time in the world. . .” Too often the “soon” never arrives.

When a friend asks for assistance, how often do we apologize? “This is a really bad time; soon, when I make my fortune, I will be available to help. Just wait a little longer. . .” But the “Wait” has yet to end.

Judaism underscores the critical need for setting aside time to nourish our soul through the study of Torah, yet we tell ourselves “It’s just a matter of finding the right moment; the proper peace of mind. . .” Yet the “Right moment” is incredibly elusive.

Most of us find ourselves so caught-up in the rat race of life; we’re just unable to get out from under. Our lives pass quickly, we move from our forties to our fifties and sixties. Suddenly the sun is beginning to set. The time for Mincha is sneaking up on us.

We know that we ought to stop focusing on making a living and start living. We realize that it is time to get occupied with our higher purpose and mission in life – to spend more time with family and friends, to enter the Synagogue, for “If not now then when?” But it’s hard to break the cycle. So, we procrastinate and postpone until tomorrow. But “tomorrow” is such an elusive occurrence. It seldom arrives.

Our Parsha, Mikietz, opens with the words: “And it came to pass at the end of two years of days and Pharaoh was dreaming. . .” In addition to the literal interpretation of the verse – which refers to the end of the two extra years that Yosef spent in prison, after placing his trust in the Chamberlains of Cupbearers and Bakers – there is an additional homiletic interpretation.

The Agaddic dimension of Torah suggests that within these words lie a brilliant allusion to the lives of the unwise and inattentive; the notion that at the “End” – as life runs by – the “Years” are seen as mere “Days.” And because time has passed so quickly, Pharaoh is found “Dreaming.” It comes to light that the wily king of deception within – who has us preoccupied all our life pursuing glorious material accomplishments – is all but a sham.
In other words, at the end of our years and days in this world we come to recognize that all the grandiose aspirations of corporeal “Accomplishments” and “Success,” were nothing but vain delusions.

It is well known that on their deathbed no one laments not having spent more time in the office. What people regret most in their final moments of life, is not having accomplished anything truly meaningful – not having done more in leaving the world a better place.

But to realize this at the end of life is woefully too late. How blessed is he who apprehends the emptiness of vain material pursuits before it is too late.
Let us pray for the gift of “Seichel” – good sense, to be cognizant of our true spiritual mission and purpose in life, earlier than later, and to achieve it in the fullest measure.

In doing so, we will actualize our own true purpose as well as that of the entire cosmos and hasten thereby the coming of the righteous Moshiach BBA.