By Rabbi Yair Hoffman

A tragic accident last week ended the life of a 32-year-old man from our community, a husband, and father of two. His name was Naftali Rhodes, and he was a tzaddik, a hidden gem.

At the age of seven, he took it upon himself to no longer hear lashon ha’ra, and somehow, he managed to avoid it for a quarter-century. He would quietly leave whenever the conversation veered toward lashon ha’ra.

His schedule was one deeply devoted to Torah study. His love of Torah was palpable; his excitement and warm smile whenever discussing Torah revealed how he felt about it. His conversation was always focused on Torah.

Aside from being a talmid chacham, he had a particularly honed sense of determining who was feeling downtrodden and dejected, and he had an uncanny ability to befriend them and make them feel better. Whether it was a child who was socially isolated or an adult who was feeling the vicissitudes of life bearing down upon him, he always managed to find that person and develop a relationship with him.

He once observed someone who was unemployed and feeling down. He offered to learn with him, and they had been learning regularly ever since.

When meshulachim came, he would treat them kindly, going to great lengths to help them in any way that he could. One time he noticed that a meshulach was missing a belt. He took off his own and gave it to him.

He never raised his voice, and he was mechanech his young children with such a calm and loving demeanor that one could not tell that the child was being disciplined.

His observance of hilchos Shabbos was meticulous and predicated upon a thorough grasp of its intricate halachos. Although he kept numerous chumros, he did not impose these upon others.

His family members are ma’aminim bnei ma’aminim. To so many of us, however, the tragedy of this tzaddik, a young family man, being killed in a car accident while walking so close to home, requires explanation.

Chazal tell us (Moed Kattan 28a) that the tragic deaths of Aharon HaKohen’s sons are juxtaposed to the parah adumah to teach us that the deaths of tzaddikim are mechaper, they atone for us.

There are numerous ways this happens. One way is through the notion of general kapparah discussed in the Gemara. Another way is that when we are nosei b’ol im chaveiro, when we feel the pain of others, this removes decrees against us. When we are concerned for families who lost children, decrees are reversed. Chazal (Vayikrah Rabbah 34:14) tell us of a time when there was no rain. A man had compassion toward his downtrodden ex-wife and gave her significant funds. This caused the decree to change, and rain came down right away.

There is also a third way. The Zohar tells us that if not for the tefillos of those who have passed on, we would be unable to stand.

The Maharal tells us that people who are given stress or challenges can generally be divided into three groups.

The first type consists of those whom Hashem finds incredibly special. Hashem brings about the tza’ar precisely because He wants and desires the added closeness. This group is why the Imahos, Sarah, Rivka, and Rachel, and others such as Chana, did not, at first, have children. Hashem wanted their closeness to Him through their tefillah. The Gemara in Yevamos states (64a), “HaKadosh Boruch Hu misaveh l’tefillasan shel tzaddikim,” Hashem yearns for the prayers of the righteous.

A second group are those to whom Hashem wants to give more schar, more merit, by bringing them closer to Him. This group is also included in those described in Mishlei (3:12), “For those to whom He loves, He afflicts.” In Yeshayahu (57:15) the pasuk says, “Ani eshkon es dakah,” I shall dwell in those who are broken-hearted.

These people may be average or beinoni, but for some reason Hashem singled out these individuals to get ever closer to Him. It is hard to say, but this is what Chazal tell us.

A third group are those people Hashem wishes to give an atonement on some action they may have done. One such case is Avimelech. Another case, l’havdil, is Miriam, who, on a very subtle level, spoke negatively about Moshe Rabbeinu.

Hashem Comforts Us

Whichever group one is in, the Maharal (Nesivos Olam, Nesiv HaYissurin, chapter 1) explains that when Hashem brings these afflictions, just as a father comforts a child so does Hashem comfort us.

The Maharal explains that the yissurim somehow prepare the person for greater dveikus b’Hashem, connection and cleaving to Him. It removes the “chomrius,” physical nature of the person, in the words of the Maharal, and fully spiritualizes the person. As proof, he cites that an eved, a slave, is called chomrius, and when he loses a tooth, the master must set him free. Certainly, writes the Maharal, when someone’s entirety is afflicted with yissurim, that person’s entire essence becomes spiritual. The Maharal further explains (chapter 3) that the person becomes kadosh, holy.

Attitudes

The Gemara in Berachos (54a) writes that we are obligated to make a berachah on “bad news” just like we make a berachah on “good news.” Chazal tell us (Berachos 5b) that we should accept all yissurim, affliction or pain, b’ahavah, with love. Accepting yissurim b’ahavah is an important level to achieve. The Maharal (chapter 3) brings a proof from Iyov that if one reaches this level, the schar that a person gets is multiplied manifold.

This may be a high spiritual level to reach, and we should not be down on ourselves, if, occasionally, we don’t reach it. Whenever we do reach it, we get that higher level of merit.

Rav Tzvi Myer, grandson of Rav Gedaliah Schorr, says that there is an expression which states, “Don’t look at the cup as if it is half-empty, look at it as if it is half-full.” Both perspectives have it wrong. The truth is that the cup is always completely full. Hashem is so filled with love and compassion toward us that He is always showering us with good and what is in our best interest.

The problem is that, at times, we may view things negatively, as if the cup is only partially filled with good and the rest is air. This perspective is incorrect. The cup is always full. We just fail at seeing it.

We must teach ourselves that seemingly negative things do not happen to us; they happen for us. This idea must be entrenched within us and is the reason that the sages ordained that immediately before we recite the Shema we declare the realization of G-d’s intense love for us: “Ahavah rabbah ahavtanu,” or “Ahavas olam.”

This is the meaning of the expression of the sages (Berachos 54a), “K’shem she’mevarchin al ha’tov kach mevarchin al ha’ra,” just as one recites a blessing on good news, so does one recite a blessing on “bad news.” It has to be k’shem, equally, because the cup is always full. This is also the reason we recite in Hallel, “Ki gavar aleinu chasdo,” we are showered and perhaps even overwhelmed with His goodness.

The Gemara in Berachos (60b) says that a person should always say, “Kol ma d’avid Rachmana l’tav avid,” whatever Hashem (the Merciful One) does, He does for the good.”

Elsewhere (Nesiv Ahavas Hashem p. 43), the Maharal explains that this attitude even has the effect of changing what might be perceived as negative things around to fully perceivable positive things. Understandably, this is a very worthwhile attitude to adopt.

May Hashem comfort the Rhodes and Grumet families and the entire community who knew and loved Naftali, among the other mourners of Tzion.

Klal Yisrael is reeling from the sudden death of R’ Naftali Rhodes. There are no words to comfort his grieving young almanah and their two young children. As they set out to cope with the enormous loss, the community has established a fund to help the young family continue on without their beloved husband and father. Please visit rayze.it/raisefornaftali/ to donate with an open heart as we all come together to help the Rhodes family at this urgent time of need.

The author can be reached at Yairhoffman2@gmail.com. Read more of Rabbi Hoffman’s articles at 5TJT.com.

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