It’s a question that’s plagued humanity for centuries, and Jewish tradition grapples with it head-on. We find one compelling, if somewhat challenging, answer in the Sifrei Devarim, a collection of early Jewish legal interpretations connected to the Book of Deuteronomy.
The passage centers around two kings: Menasheh, a king of Judah known for his wickedness, and his grandfather (by way of his father Hezekiah), Chizkiyahu, a righteous ruler. The text presents a fascinating paradox. 2 Chronicles 33:1 tells us "Menasheh was twelve years old when he began to reign, and he reigned fifty-five years in Jerusalem." But Proverbs 25:1 states: "These, too, are the proverbs of Solomon, which were copied down by the servants of Chezkiah king of Judah."
Rabbi Akiva, a towering figure of Jewish law and thought from the first century, poses a powerful rhetorical question: Would Chizkiyahu, a king so devoted to Torah that his servants transcribed the proverbs of Solomon, neglect to teach his own son, Menasheh?
The obvious answer is no. Chizkiyahu, undoubtedly, invested immense effort in raising Menasheh to be a righteous leader. But, according to the Sifrei Devarim, all that effort seemingly came to naught. Why?
The text then directs us to 2 Chronicles 33:10-13: "And the L-rd spoke to Menasheh and his people, but they did not listen. And the L-rd brought against them the officers of the king of Ashur's army. And they caught Menasheh with hunting hooks, and bound him in chains and led him to Bavel. And in his suffering he besought the L-rd his G-d, and he humbled himself greatly before the G-d of his fathers. And he prayed to Him, and He was entreated of Him, and He heard his supplication, and He returned him to Jerusalem to his kingdom."
It was only through immense suffering, through being dragged away in chains to Bavel (Babylon), that Menasheh finally turned back to God. Only then, in his darkest hour, did he truly repent and find redemption.
The conclusion drawn from this seemingly strange narrative? Afflictions, or yissurim, are beloved. Now, that's a tough one to swallow, isn’t it? It’s not saying that suffering is good in and of itself. Rather, it suggests that sometimes, it’s the jolt we need to wake us up, to redirect us back to the path we're meant to be on.
It's a powerful and potentially unsettling idea. It challenges us to see even the most difficult moments in our lives as potential opportunities for growth, for teshuvah – repentance, return, and a turning towards what truly matters. It suggests that even when we stray far from the path, a loving hand, even if it feels like a harsh one, might be guiding us back home.