If Everything Is for the Good, Why Can’t We Always See It?

Nir asks: “Judaism teaches us that everything is for the good. But can we arrive at this belief through reason as well?”

Hello, Nir, and thank you for your question.

The Jewish belief that everything Hashem does is ultimately for the good begins with a fundamental idea: Hashem, as the Creator of all reality, possesses wisdom and compassion infinitely greater than our own.

Consider where our own wisdom, sense of justice, and capacity for compassion come from.

Human beings are capable of extraordinary thought and feeling, yet everything we understand is still only a tiny fraction of reality. We are like leaves growing from a vast tree, drawing life from roots far deeper than anything visible on the surface.

So what is the ultimate root of our wisdom and compassion?

Where Do Wisdom and Compassion Come From?

The Cause of all causes and the source of existence is Hashem, who is infinite and eternal.

Our wisdom ultimately comes from Him. As Mishlei states, “There is no wisdom, understanding, or counsel against Hashem” (Proverbs 21:30).

The same is true of compassion. The Torah says, “And He will give you compassion and have compassion upon you” (Deuteronomy 13:18).

Hashem created within us the ability to think, understand, love, and feel compassion. If our own limited capacity for wisdom and mercy comes from the Creator, then the Source of those qualities cannot be lacking in them.

From this perspective, a human being cannot possess greater wisdom or compassion than Hashem.

We may not understand everything He does. In fact, from our limited vantage point, there will inevitably be parts of reality that we cannot understand at all.

But our inability to see the reason for something does not mean that there is no reason.

Bitachon, trust in Hashem, therefore does not have to begin with understanding every event. It can begin with recognizing who Hashem is and recognizing the limits of our own perspective.

Look at What We Have Been Given

There is also a simpler way to approach the question.

Look at the world around us.

We have two eyes that allow us to perceive depth, color, light, and countless shades. We have two ears that enable us to locate sounds and enjoy music. We can experience the taste of food, the beauty of a melody, the satisfaction of discovering something new, and the joy of creating art, poetry, and ideas.

We have a sense of humor that allows us to laugh together and bridge differences.

We can look at trees and flowers, mountains and oceans and experience something deeper than simple recognition. Beauty can move us.

And then there are the relationships built into human life: the love parents feel for their children, our desire for justice, our ability to care about another person's suffering, and our capacity to love other people.

None of these things should be taken for granted.

The world could theoretically have been functional without many of the pleasures and experiences that make human life so rich. Yet reality contains an extraordinary abundance of color, sound, flavor, beauty, creativity, connection, and emotion.

The Rambam’s Observation About the World

The Rambam makes another fascinating observation in Moreh Nevuchim (Part III, Chapter 12).

The things most necessary for human survival are generally the most readily available.

Air, which we need constantly, surrounds us everywhere. Water, which we can survive without for only a limited period, is abundant throughout the world. Food, though requiring greater effort to obtain, is still widely available.

Materials needed for shelter and everyday life are also relatively plentiful.

By contrast, precious stones and other luxuries that are not necessary for survival are much rarer.

The order itself, the Rambam explains, points toward wisdom in the structure of creation.

The Child Who Didn't Get His Candy

Life is filled with gifts that we barely notice because we have grown accustomed to receiving them.

In a certain sense, we are like a small child whose parents provide him every day with a home, food, clothing, protection, affection, and countless other things.

Then one afternoon, his parents refuse to give him a piece of candy.

The child cries.

From his perspective, something terrible has happened. He cannot understand why the parents who supposedly love him would withhold the very thing he wants.

But the parents see something the child cannot.

They know what he ate earlier. They know what is good for his body. They know what is coming later. Their decision exists within a much larger picture than the child is capable of seeing.

Of course, the suffering people encounter in life can be infinitely more serious than a child being denied candy. The comparison is not meant to minimize pain or suggest that suffering is easy to understand.

Rather, it illustrates the limits of perspective.

If we look at the broader reality around us, we encounter countless expressions of wisdom, order, beauty, compassion, and generosity. Judaism teaches us to recognize these as signs of Hashem's goodness.

And if the Creator is infinitely wiser than we are, then it follows that there will be times when His wisdom extends beyond what we are currently able to understand.

We do not always know why something happens.

But according to this approach, our inability to see the good is not evidence that the good is absent.

Sometimes it simply means that we cannot yet see the entire picture.