January 27, 2025|כ"ז טבת ה' אלפים תשפ"ה Breaking Free: Overcoming Barriers to Spiritual Growth
Print ArticleA highly successful hedge fund manager felt something was missing in his life. He had spiritual aspirations—a desire for more meaning and connection. So, he decided to leave behind his worldly pursuits and join a secluded monastery, where the monks had taken a vow of silence. They were only permitted to speak two words every ten years. After the first ten years, the man was summoned by the head monk and given his chance to speak. He said, “Bed hard.” The head monk nodded and sent him back. Another ten years passed, and the man returned to say, “Food bad.” The head monk nodded again. After thirty years, the man came back, clearly frustrated. He said, “I quit!” The head monk sighed and replied, “I’m not surprised. All you’ve done is complain since you got here!”
This story invites us to reflect on our own spiritual aspirations. What holds us back from reaching for something greater? Or, perhaps more importantly, do we even think about our spiritual aspirations?
Baruch Hashem, I recently returned from a family vacation. One of the most inspiring aspects of our broader Orthodox Jewish community is how deeply we care about halacha, even when we go away. The number one concern for many families on vacation is, "Will there be kosher food?" I receive many halachic questions around this time—about various hashgachot, kashering kitchen appliances in an Airbnb, and whether an eruv is valid for Shabbat. It’s wonderful to see our commitment to halacha, ensuring we do everything right. But is that enough? Do we want more? Is our goal simply to be halachically observant, or do we have spiritual aspirations beyond that?
There’s a fundamental difference between being halachically observant and having spiritual aspirations. Observance is about checking the boxes, ensuring everything we do aligns with halacha. That’s important and beautiful. But spiritual aspirations go deeper. They involve striving to connect with something greater than ourselves, seeking meaning, purpose, and growth. It’s about following halacha as part of a broader way of life—becoming a ben aliya or bat aliya, someone constantly striving for higher spiritual levels, aligning their life with a Divine vision. Yes, many of us come to shul. We do davening. We do Shabbat. We do kosher. We do orthodoxy. But many of us don’t do spiritual aspirations.
If I were to ask this audience if you’ve ever felt spiritual aspirations, and if so, when most profoundly, many would point to their gap year in yeshiva or seminary in Israel. During that time, many felt deeply connected and inspired, driven by a strong desire to grow. Yet, for some, those feelings fade, leaving a sense that their best spiritual years are behind them. That’s heartbreaking, because spiritual growth should not be confined to a particular time or place. We should have hope for the future of our spiritual lives.
Why do so many of us feel stuck in our spiritual growth? Our parsha provides insight. Moshe shares a beautiful vision with the Bnei Yisrael: “והוצאתי והצלתי וגאלתי ולקחתי” – “I will bring you out, I will save you, I will redeem you, and I will take you as My nation.” This grand vision, culminating in the giving of the Torah, followed by והבאתי , bringing Bnei Yisrael into the Promised Land, represents a profound spiritual aspiration. Yet the Bnei Yisrael reject it. “ולא שמעו אל משה מקוצר רוח ומעבודה קשה”—They could not listen to Moshe due to their shortness of spirit and hard labor. Despite believing in Moshe’s vision initially in last week’s parsha, they couldn’t sustain their faith. Their circumstances—their “קוצר רוח” and “עבודה קשה”—held them back.
What are “קוצר רוח” and “עבודה קשה”? Many mefarshim, like the Ramban and the Netziv, explain that these represent psychological and physical barriers. “קוצר רוח” reflects a bitterness or constriction of spirit, a mental state where one cannot see beyond immediate struggles. “עבודה קשה” represents the overwhelming physical demands of life that leave no energy for spiritual growth.
How do these obstacles manifest in our lives? For many of us, “קוצר רוח” appears as bitterness—a gap between what is and what should be. Many of us are bitter because the other person earns more money than me or because our friends seem to have a better family or a more successful life than we do, however that is defined. We see inequity in our life – it’s not fair – and we ignore the blessings that we have.
The Torah offers guidance here. We do not believe in ignoring the bad in our lives. When we face loss, we say “ברוך דיין האמת” to acknowledge God’s judgment. We need an outlet to express something bad. However, when we receive a blessing, we say “ברוך הטוב והמטיב” to celebrate the good. By finding balance—searching for and celebrating the good while accepting what we cannot change—we avoid being consumed by bitterness.
For others, the barrier is “עבודה קשה.” Life is simply overwhelming. The demands of raising a family, managing finances, and navigating day-to-day responsibilities leave little time or energy for spiritual growth. Being part of an Orthodox Jewish community is both beautiful and demanding. Sometimes, young parents tell me that when their parents offer to babysit their kids for the night, they use a rare night off from parenting not to go out but simply to catch up on sleep. We are exhausted. We’re doing so much just to check the boxes—Shabbat, kashrut, and everything else—but do we leave room for the Divine vision, for “והוצאתי והצלתי וגאלתי ולקחתי”?
If “קוצר רוח” and “עבודה קשה” hold us back, what’s the solution? The Torah shows us: nine plagues. Each plague was a moment when Bnei Yisrael saw the “יד ה’” and felt connected to God. The plagues weren’t just about punishing the Egyptians; they were about building Bnei Yisrael’s faith, step by step until they were willing to slaughter the Egyptian god in front of the Egyptians prior to the tenth plague.
For us, the solution is similar. We need small wins—moments of connection that build our faith and reignite our spiritual aspirations. It might be a meaningful davening, an inspiring Torah study session, a Shabbat meal filled with song and discussion, or simply a quiet moment of gratitude. These experiences, like the plagues, help us reconnect with God and with our higher purpose.
But here’s the key: these moments don’t just happen. We need to create them. Just as Hashem carefully orchestrated the plagues to help Bnei Yisrael experience His presence step by step, we need to be intentional about cultivating our spiritual lives. Small wins are powerful because they build momentum. Each one strengthens our connection to Hashem, reminding us that spiritual growth is attainable and creating positive associations that inspire us to seek more. Over time, these small moments form habits that anchor us spiritually, helping us move past the exhaustion of “עבודה קשה” and the bitterness of “קוצר רוח.”
This might mean setting aside time to learn Torah every day, even if just for a few minutes, or taking a few moments during Shabbat to reflect on the blessings in our lives. It might mean attending a shiur, focusing on kavana during davening, or working to infuse our homes with kedusha. By embracing these small but intentional acts, we shift from simply “checking the boxes” to living with a deeper sense of purpose and connection.
Through this process, we embrace the higher spiritual aspiration of “והוצאתי והצלתי וגאלתי ולקחתי.” Ultimately, that journey leads us to “והבאתי”—entering the ultimate connection with Hashem.
It’s not enough to remain stuck in spiritual survival mode. We are called to aspire to greater heights, to dream of a life where we don’t just fulfill halacha but live inspired by it. We are meant to build a relationship with Hashem that transcends obligation, one that transforms our lives into a testimony of His greatness.
Let us reflect on what we want for ourselves, our families, and our community. Let us not settle for the bare minimum but reach for more. May we merit to rise above the obstacles of bitterness and exhaustion, find our own small moments of connection, and grow ever closer to the Divine. And may we live lives filled with meaning, inspiration, and a profound connection to Hashem.