Faith in Darkness: How Trust in God Sustains Us Through Hidden Suffering

It is told about the great Rabbi Chaim of Sanz, that when his son passed away, the grief was searing and heart-rending. When people asked him how he could bear such pain in silence, he replied with a parable:

“It is like a man who sat upon his chair, when suddenly someone came up behind him and struck him sharply across the back. Instinctively, he turns around in anger to see who dared strike him. If he discovers it was a stranger, certainly he would rise up furious and enraged. But if, upon turning, he sees that it was none other than his own father, who came to visit and gave him an affectionate slap, then immediately he restrains himself, accepts it, and even smiles warmly in return. Would a son sever the bond of love with his father for such a reason?

So too with me,” continued the Rabbi. “I have indeed received a stinging and painful blow in the loss of my son. But when I turned to see who delivered the blow, I realized it was none other than the Holy One, blessed be He, whom I love more than anyone, and who loves me more than anyone. Shall I therefore break my bond with Him, even in the slightest turn of face?”

Hiddenness, and Hiddenness Within Hiddenness

The Shomer Emunim explains the verse: ‘And I will surely hide My face’ (Deut. 31:18). Why does Scripture use a double concealment — “hide, I will hide”? This is because there are two levels of concealment.

The first concealment is the blow itself, the suffering and troubles that come as a result of God’s hiddenness, the opposite of “May the Lord shine His face upon you”. As long as a person still knows who stands behind the concealment, and recognizes that it is the Merciful One who inflicts pain for his own good, then he is experiencing only a single concealment of the blow itself.

However, when a person loses sight of Who is behind the blow, and imagines that it is random or natural, then he rises up in fury and bitterness, as if struck by senseless fate. This is the curse of the “double concealment” — not only suffering, but suffering that blinds a person to the hand of God behind it.

Even if we cannot prevent the first concealment of the hardships decreed in the generation of Mashiach, we can at least save ourselves from the second. By knowing and remembering Who stands behind our pain, the very nature of the suffering changes. Being pricked by an enemy’s needle is worlds apart from receiving a painful injection from a caring doctor.

Tests of Faith in Small Things

The Talmud (Sotah 48a) comments on the verse “For who has despised the day of small things” (Zech. 4:10): Who caused the righteous to lose their reward in the World to Come? Their “smallness of faith”. How can the righteous, of all people, be accused of weak faith?

It refers to the small, everyday tests of faith, the irritations and disappointments that provoke us to anger or complaint. These are constant, and not easy to endure. From time to time, even the righteous falter by forgetting God’s providence in small matters. Yet these “minor” lapses can cost dearly, for they reveal whether our trust is deeply rooted.

Today it is all too easy to stumble into heretical thoughts. We are surrounded by people far from faith, by media hostile to religion, by commentators who explain everything as mere chance or nature, and who deliberately avoid even mentioning the name of God. Our sages already foresaw this. The holy Or HaChaim taught that at the end of days we would face the test of the Fiftieth Gate of Impurity — the gate of denial and disbelief. The Rav of Kamarna, along with other great masters, explained that because we stand on the threshold of the Fiftieth Gate of Holiness, we must necessarily confront its opposite, the ultimate gate of heresy. Only by overcoming it will we merit entry into holiness and redemption.

Why Will Our Generation Merit the Coming of Mashiach?

Why should our generation be privileged to see the coming of Mashiach more than previous generations, who were greater than us in holiness and righteousness?

The answer is precisely because we are weak, our knowledge is shallow, our faith fragile, while at the same time we face temptations and spiritual trials fiercer than any before. Our very frailty combined with overwhelming trials makes every small act of faith precious beyond measure. A simple deed performed out of pure faith and self-sacrifice, not from deep understanding, carries enormous weight in heaven.

For this reason, although earlier generations were far holier, our endurance of today’s trials — even in the smallest measure, gives us unique merit to witness redemption.

“The Righteous Shall Live By His Faith”

This is what the prophet Habakkuk meant: “The righteous shall live by his faith” (Hab. 2:4). The Talmud (Makkot 24a) explains: Habakkuk distilled the entire Torah into a single principle: Faith is the foundation from which all mitzvot flow.

A person in our generation who clings to faith as he clings to air to breathe — who in every step remembers God’s providence and trusts that everything is for his good, he is called righteous. Even if his understanding is meager, his simple and steadfast trust in God is his lifeline, and it elevates all his deeds.

The Talmud explains that even the righteous may lose part of their reward in the World to Come due to small lapses of faith. Thus Habakkuk’s verse takes on new meaning: “The righteous shall live by his faith” — meaning that a person’s very share in eternal life depends on his faith.

True faith is described by the prophet Isaiah: “He who walks in darkness and has no light, let him trust in the name of the Lord and lean upon his God” (Isa. 50:10). Faith means that even when a person finds himself surrounded by darkness, seeing no glimmer of hope, he nonetheless trusts in God and leans upon Him.

This, taught Rabbi Yechezkel Levenstein, is the definition of faith, and it is this that will carry our generation to redemption.