Rabbi Mendy Herson's Blog

Think before you act.
That’s a good principle for life. At the same time, it doesn’t always apply.
When a parent awakens at night to the sound of their baby crying in feverish pain, do they pause for calculations? Do they weigh their options, balancing the inconvenient awakening with the distinct possibility that they may need that kid when they are geriatric?
Nah. They just jump out of bed. Why? Just because.
A parent shares a special relationship with a child, a deep connection that defies description. When the baby calls, that extraordinary bond beckons, and the parent responds, without intellectual analysis.
Why?
Just because.
It’s not purely rational, but it's not irrational either. Let's call it super-rational.
I don’t have to think about it to know that my relationship with my children and grandchildren has tremendous depth. Yet, when I do think about it, my intellectual analysis confirms my innate sense of an intimate connection. When the innate and the rational align in a relationship, there is a genuine feeling of connection and safety that opens the door to the transcendent world of super-rationality and love. This applies to any deep, safe relationship where we can truly let our guard down: the relationship between parents and children, between spouses, even between very close friends.
It also applies to our relationship with G-d.
When I contemplate a Jewish practice, I want to understand its contribution to my life and my destiny; I want to appreciate how it elevates my consciousness and/or improves my day.
But that understanding and appreciation isn’t a prerequisite. I feel safe enough with G d, confident enough in the rock-solid stability of our relationship, to do a Mitzvah ‘just because.’
Being there and doing what it takes for a loved one ‘just because’ adds a special super-rational ingredient to the recipe of the relationship. It says ‘I trust you’. It says ‘I love you.’ Doing something for G-d ‘just because’ adds an extraordinary element to the bond we share. It says ‘I’m yours’ and ‘I surrender my personal needs for You.’
So, even when we can find personal benefit in our most intimate interactions, we should always look for a powerful ‘just because’ at their core. Rational and calculated commitment without the ‘just because’ is not a full commitment of the soul. For some relationships that’s enough, and for some relationships it isn’t.
Why not?
Just because.

I’ve heard it said that pain is actually a person’s friend, because it lets you know there’s a problem and that you’re not dead.
How would this apply to spiritual turmoil and pain?
Rabbi Menachem Mendel, the third Lubavitcher Rebbe, was approached by a disciple who was bothered by agnostic thoughts.
“Why does this trouble you?” the Rebbe asked him.
“Because I’m a Jew!” the man exclaimed.
“In that case, you’re doing fine,” the Rebbe replied.
The Rebbe’s response teaches two powerful lessons.
First, as long as you’re bothered by your disconnect with the Divine, you’re in (relatively) good shape; at least you know your soul is alive. Apathy is the real danger. Feeling no pain can mean that one has lost sensation in the spiritual “tendons” that connect a person to G-d.
Second, when faith perseveres in the face of doubt, it speaks to the power of that faith.
When the Jews left Egypt, they were at a dismal spiritual level and were steeped in idolatry.
Yet our Sages tell us that the Jews were tenaciously faithful. In fact, the Torah uses the terms “legion” and “battalion” to describe that generation of Jews, to indicate that, despite their theological weaknesses, they “soldiered on” as Jews.
So which was it? Were they on the precipice of disaffiliation or tenaciously connected?
Both.
The Jews were experiencing spiritual turbulence, but they never lost their anchor to the Divine. Their spiritual tenacity in the face of that turbulence kept them going until they got to Sinai, where they experienced Divine Revelation and spiritual clarity.
Spiritual tenacity is the backbone of inspired and full-bodied faith. It’s there to keep us going when we’re feeling empty; maintaining us until the spiritual upswing that may be just around the corner.
So, if you feel the pain of disconnect, celebrate the fact that you care enough to feel that pain.
And, by all means, soldier on.
Your ancestors did it. You have it in your DNA.