Leap of faith

Have you ever worked really hard on something—a project at work, a garden in your backyard, or even preparing for a big test—only to feel like the results were out of your hands? You poured your heart and soul into it, yet the final outcome depended on factors you couldn’t control, like the weather, someone else’s decision, or just plain luck.

This tension between what we can do and what lies beyond our reach is something we all experience. The Torah addresses this balance through two types of commandments: “chukim” (laws that defy human logic) and “mishpatim” (laws that are rational and moral). These categories teach us that while some things in life make immediate sense, others require us to embrace trust and humility, knowing that not everything is meant to be fully understood.

We can see this in the blessings G-d promises in the Torah. For instance, if we toil in the observance of G-d’s laws, then rain will fall and we will have sustenance. G-d’s blessings don't appear out of nowhere; they flow in response to our efforts.

This interplay of effort and blessing is clear in the practical realities of life. If we work hard, we often see results, yet there are times when no amount of effort seems to make a difference. It’s in those moments that we need to acknowledge G-d’s role. We can till the soil, but we cannot command the rain. We can prepare for an exam, but we cannot control every outcome.

Faith steps in when our human limits are reached. This is the essence of “chukim”—the commandments that transcend logic. They teach us humility and remind us that life doesn’t always fit neatly into our understanding.

This raises an important question: If living morally and rationally through “mishpatim” seems sufficient, why do we also need to follow “chukim,” which defy logic? What’s the value in committing to something we don’t fully understand?

The crux of the explanation is that true devotion to G-d requires us to go beyond what is logical or comfortable. When we follow the “chukim,” we affirm that our relationship with G-d isn’t transactional or based solely on what we can understand. It’s rooted in love, trust, and a commitment that transcends reason.

This applies to life itself too. Sometimes, our efforts don’t lead to immediate results. We might feel like we’re spinning our wheels, putting in endless work without seeing the fruit. Yet these moments of uncertainty are where true growth happens. They allow us to deepen our faith, reminding us that success isn’t always measured in outcomes we can see.

There’s a saying in Ethics of Our Fathers: “The reward for a mitzvah is the mitzvah itself.” The act of doing something good or holy is inherently rewarding because it aligns us with our purpose. Living with integrity, striving to do what’s right—even when no one is watching or when the results are unclear—is itself a victory. The effort itself transforms us. It’s about becoming a person who lives with intention and who brings light into the world.

Life is a mix of “chukim” and “mishpatim.” We encounter challenges that make no sense and others that seem straightforward. The Torah encourages us to engage fully with both. To work hard, to make the effort, to use our logic and intelligence to navigate life—but also to surrender when it’s time to let go. To recognize that not everything is in our hands and that there is beauty in trusting G-d’s plan, even when it’s unclear.

So let’s remember to do our part: to strive, to contribute, and to create. And then, let’s step back and have faith that G-d will bless our efforts in ways we may not always understand, but which ultimately lead us to a richer and more connected life.