Shiur provided courtesy of Naaleh.com

Adapted by Channie Koplowitz Stein

The era of Bnei Yisroel in the desert was a challenging time in ways that we may not understand. Throughout the forty years, the people complained several times, as recorded in the Torah. [While it seems they were always complaining, over a span of forty years, although the complaints were serious with terrible consequences, there were in actuality, only about a handful.] In the incident recorded in Parshat Chukas, instead of showing gratitude to Hashem for sustaining them so miraculously, the people are tired of eating a diet of manna for thirty eight years. They want "real food." Hashem punishes them by sending toxic serpents to bite them, and many people die. The people come to Moshe, admit their sin, and ask Moshe to pray to Hashem to remove the serpents.

Moshe prayed to Hashem. Hashem instructed Moshe to make a snake out of copper, place it high on a staff, and when Bnei Yisroel will look up at the copper snake, they will not die of the snake bite. While the Torah does not explicitly state that Bnei Yisroel will pray or will do teshuvah, Rabbi Lugassi suggests that by looking up toward heaven, their hearts will turn toward teshuvah, just as looking up at Moshe Rabbenu's raised hands during the war with Amalek inspired teshuvah. Neither Moshe's hands nor the copper snake was a magic amulet. Nevertheless, why is the serpent an appropriate symbol for teshuvah? And why is the snake a representative of the challenging "snakes" within each of us?

Rabbi Druk zt”l notes that the two places Bnei Yisroel are told to "look up" and dedicate their hearts to Heaven serve as bookmarks for the era of the Generation of the Desert. The first is in the war with Amalek, and the second here, toward the end of the journey. Both have the same ultimate purpose, to firmly plant within us the knowledge that ain od milvado/nothing exists except Hashem. Here, it is precisely the agent of destruction, the snake, that Hashem chose to prove this point to Bnei Yisroel, that life and death, whether through a snake or other agent, are in the hands of Hashem, notes the Ramban.

Rabbi Wolfson zt”l recounts for us the incident of Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa who, to save the people of a particular area, put his foot over the hole of a snake burrow. When the snake bit him, instead of Rabbi Dosa dying, the snake died. Rav Dosa then explained that it was not the snake that killed, but the sins that killed through the agent of the snake. Since Rabbi Dosa was without sin, the snake's energy and life were destroyed. Similarly, when the people looked at the copper snake and did teshuvah, the living snake could be no more harmful that the inanimate, copper snake.

While this complaint may seem to us as very minor, we must remember that that generation was on such an exalted spiritual level that they are held to a higher level of accountability, and even a hint of an infraction is unacceptable. In that vein, writes Rabbi Reiss citing the Imrei Emes, it was important to get to the root of their sin. Looking at the copper serpent as a reflection of their sin of loshon horo, helped them focus on the cause of their affliction and helped them do teshuvah.

What exactly was the issue here? The Netivot Shalom explains. Hashem had provided them with everything they needed, yet they were dissatisfied and complained. They were not mesameach bechelko/ they were dissatisfied and unhappy with their lot. In contrast Avraham Avinu was tested ten times, and he withstood them all. Among them were situations he had no control over, such as the famine shortly after settling in the land Hashem had promised him, or the abduction of Sarai. If he had no choice, what was the challenge for him? The challenge lay in his attitude toward the test, in his faith and acceptance that whatever Hashem sent him was for his own good, even if it was beyond his understanding. Bnei Yisroel had everything, and yet they were unhappy.

This is why Hashem sent the snakes to bite them, continues the Netivot Shalom. At the end of days, Hashem will ask the snake why he bit people. After all, his food was everywhere. He was not attacking people to eat. The snake does not appreciate what he has, and Bnei Yisroel did not appreciate what Hashem had given them.

"Who is rich? השמח בחלקו /He who is happy with his lot,"says Ben Zoma in Pirkei Avos. In Be'er Hachaim Rabbi Biederman explains that one should be happy in every situation, whether comfortable or not. He sees here an acronym for חלקו: for חם, לח, קר, ויבש /in heat, wet, cold, and dry -- we must have faith and be satisfied, whatever the situation, for that is what is best for your neshamah.

In Hebrew, we have two complementary although not identical words for faith, emunah and bitachon. While emunah means theoretical, intellectual faith in Hakodosh Boruch Hu, bitachon goes further, explains Rabbi Lugassi in B'Yam Derech. Bitachon takes that esoteric faith and translates it into the world of reality, it implements that faith. Citing the Saba of Kelm zt”l. he suggests that the purpose of prayer is to strengthen us in our emunah and bitachon, to counter our perception that the world functions through cause and effect. Hashem is the One Who controls the world, from our health, to our wealth. As Rebbetzin Smiles says, it was not COVID that shut down the economy, but Hakodosh Boruch Hu.

A person can live a long life, and yet never connect to Hashem. Tefillah is the medium of connection as we realize we are totally dependent on Him. It is an expression of emunah. Bitachon is fully accepting whatever Hashem does for us as best for us, even if it is completely different from what we envision for ourselves.

When you totally believe ain od milvado, that nothing exists outside Hashem, Hashem rewards you by withdrawing the power of that which may harm you, for you yourself have attested that there is no other power or controlling force except Hashem. [In contrast, Moshe's and Aharon's inanimate sticks transformed into living snakes in Pharaoh's court. CKS] Bitachon has this power even without tefillah and teshuvah. In the desert, by looking at the copper snake, Bnei Yisroel realized that just as the inanimate snake could not harm them, neither could the living snake, since both are controlled by Hashem. When you live with this belief, Hashem lifts off any other difficulty, whether it is through humans or through nature, as evidenced by the bookends of Amalek, the human danger, and the serpents, at the end of the journey.

Sometimes bitachon itself, without tefillah, is necessary. When Bnei Yisroel arrived at the shores of Yam Suf, they started screaming out to Hashem. Hashem's response? "Why do you cry out out to me? Move forward." The bitachon, the action of jumping in to the Sea, based on emunah, was the catalyst for the splitting of the Sea.

The segulah, the remedy for the snake bite, is looking at the copper snake and internalizing the message that just as the copper snake can't harm you, neither can the living snake harm you. Without Hashem's instructions, it is powerless. And as a corollary to this, I must believe that when something happened to me, whether it is stubbing my toe or something more consequential, my attitude must remain that this is what I need, what I deserve.

When we completely internalize the idea that Hashem is in control of every aspect of our lives, we can turn to Him in prayer constantly, not just for actual troubles and concerns, but for even small inconveniences, writes Rabbi Berkowitz, citing Ramban. Speak to Hashem, have a conversation with Him. Feel His presence -- if we are talking to Him, we certainly believe He exists. Ask Him to direct you to the best store fir the new shoes you need, for example, advised the Chazon Ish. It is through this constant dialogue with Hashem that we develop our emunah and transform it into bitachon. Ask Hashem for what you want, and then remember to thank Him for it.

Read godliness into everything. When the people come to Moshe, they are being bitten by nechashim serafim, fiery serpents. But when Hashem instructs Moshe to make a snake and put it on a pole, Hashem calls it only a saraph/a fiery, leading the Sefat Emet to suggest that Hashem was here alluding to seraphim, fiery angels. Make a fiery angel within yourself, raise it up high so that it leads you to realize that both the toxin of the serpent and the cure come from Hashem.

Hashem is reaching out to us through our challenges. He wants us to reach out to Him in a relationship, not just to get rid of the trouble, writes Rabbi Elias.

Just as the snake is toxic, so can we be around people and situations that are toxic, writes Rabbi Jacobson. It would seem that the best strategy is to flee, to avoid them all. But one must look at the snake, identify it, and then look up to extricate oneself. Rabbi Jacobson provides the analogy of a trapped fly that keeps flying into walls and down at the floor, but never looks upward for the opening. Don't let your personal challenges pull you down; raise your eyes. Look up, and find the possibilities for growth from these challenges. It is not about suppressing the pain, but about using the very pain to generate a cure. Face the pain and challenges in life, explore the lessons we can learn, and use them as an impetus for growth.

When Yakov Avinu wrestled with the angel who was ostensibly trying to destroy him, Jacob demanded that the angel bless him before he releases him. That is how a Jew should confront every challenge, continues Rabbi Jacobson. Let this challenge be an impetus to look upward, to grow, and to be a source of elevation.

Knowing that nothing exists except Hashem, we have the power to face our challenges, to look toward Hashem and pray to Him constantly, and use our challenges as platforms for growth.