There are any number of ways to explain Bitochon, but at its core it simply means that Hashem has a Master Plan, and that every facet of that Master Plan is subjectively good, as applied to you and every other you walking the Earth at any given time.
Objectively, however, as seen in the here and now of where one’s two feet are currently planted, it may be a different story, at least for Litvaks.
Whereas the Baal Shem Tov and those that follow in his derech in our time (i.e. the Lubavitcher Rebbe, z”l, the Biala Rebbe et al.) hold that our bitochon, as viewed in real time, should be that everything will turn out for the best (vet zein gut), the Chazon Ish, z”l on the other hand, doesn’t promise us a rose garden. In his view, which has become mainstream hashkafa in the Litvishe yeshivas, we should certainly have bitochon that the situation at hand could turn our way (ken zein gut) but we shouldn’t be focused on a fairytale ending.
We recognize that things that we perceive of as bad happen sometimes, and in extreme circumstances (such as terminal illnesses and the like) they happen more often than not. Stage four cancer patients on respirators who are severely jaundiced because their kidneys are shutting down are not expected to check themselves out of the hospital to attend a chasana fifteen hundred miles away. The only checking out for them is to the next world because the truth is that they die close to one hundred per cent of the time.
The problem is that while most of us understand, as an intellectual proposition, that Hashem has a Master Plan and that everything that transpires in this world is subsumed within it, the route this understanding takes from the brain to the kishkes follows the proverbial slow boat to China.
When we inevitability hit one of life’s more serious speed bumps, the amelioration of which cannot be expected to be found within Teva, we dutifully remember that Hashem has a Master Plan and that sometimes our tefillahs are answered with a resounding NO, and, Boruch Hashem, we accept it. And in cases of death, we say Boruch Dayan HaEmes with kavanah, acknowledging that Hashem wasn’t away for the weekend. He was on the job, and that nothing that happened passed undetected under His radar. We grin (maybe) and bear it to be sure, but we are often at a loss as to how to emotionally relate and dialogue with it at street level.
For this we need Rabbi Mordechai Schwab, z”l.
Rabbi Paysach Krohn relates that he visited Rabbi Schwab when he was very ill. He could no longer put on tefillin nor could he even daven. Rabbi Schwab could see from Paysach Krohn’s face that he was empathizing with his inability to do the basic avodas Hashem that we all take for granted.
So he set him straight.
“If Hashem wanted me to put on tefillin now then He would provide me with the ability to do so. And if he wished to hear my tefillahs he would endow me with that capability also.” And then Rabbi Schwab gave over something that represents the paradigm of how we should speak to our issurim. He said, “The way we have to look at life is that whatever happens to us say to Hashem:
‘If that’s what you want, Hashem, it’s okay with me.’”
