Just to be clear before I begin:

I’m not criticizing anyone personally, and certainly not the sincerity behind what was shared. I’m responding in general to the way certain ideas are often used in these conversations, sometimes with the best of intentions, but in ways that can unintentionally minimize pain. I’m sharing my own experience and reflections, not trying to argue.

I want to say something a little vulnerable. Honestly, I am very intellectually oriented, and my first instinct was always to give the “right” answer, the one that checks all the boxes. It’s taken me years, and I’m still learning, to understand that the deepest response to pain is not always explanation, but empathy. You’ll probably even see that matter of fact tone in some of my earlier posts.

Pain is real, and so is feeling for others. That, to me, is the depth of the Mishnah: “Al tenachem adam b’sha’ah shemeiso mutal lefanav.” There’s a time to listen, not explain.

Yes, and I understand that view. But sometimes, part of Hashem’s plan includes our outrage at injustice, and our compassion for those who were hurt. That is how His middos are expressed in this world.

Just to be clear, I’m not critiquing you personally or your belief, I’m responding more broadly to how these ideas are often used in ways that unintentionally silence pain. I really do appreciate that you’re engaging thoughtfully.

The Gemara tells us Hashem feels our pain with us. The Nefesh HaChaim adds: even more than we do. Hashem is the source of all reality. If he feels our pain it must be that pain, empathy and emotions are also emes. Objective reality is not the only thing that exists, subjective pain has its place on the landscape of truth.

We were put here to fix what’s broken, within ourselves and, when possible, in the world around us. That’s not a contradiction to bitachon, it’s part of our avodah.

It is not our job to sit silently on the sidelines while people are destroyed or hurt.

It is our privilege to bring clarity, truth, and light into the world, wherever and whenever we can.

I hear you. But to clarify, I wasn’t reacting from misunderstanding. Like R’ Yitzchok pointed out earlier, the message simply wasn’t relevant to my post. I wasn’t criticizing “the system,” I was pointing out when people misuse it.

If we refuse to acknowledge abuse or misuse and instead sugarcoat it under the banner of “the system,” then we unintentionally validate that behavior as part of Torah. And that’s dangerous.

There are many Torah concepts that people cling to in the form they first heard them, often as children, and never revisit. The Alter from Kelm, in his Piskei Baal HaBatim, already lamented this, people holding on to a cheder-level understanding of Ma’aseh Bereishis.

Sometimes what we heard wasn’t deep enough, or wasn’t even accurate. We repeat these phrases as if they’re sacred, but they’ve lost context and content.

True kavod haTorah means revisiting our ideas and letting them grow with us. That takes honesty. It takes asking:

    •    What does this actually mean to me?

    •    Where do I see it in my life?

    •    And, scariest of all, is there a part of me that struggles with it? And why?

That’s not weakness. That’s maturity. I hope to explore this particular concept more in a future post