“Jews Always Ask Questions”

By Nadia Gold
From a speech to Beth Rivkah Ninth Grade

Throughout my childhood, my parents drilled something into my head, that I am Jewish. I am Jewish, I have always been Jewish, and I will always be Jewish.
So one time, I asked them what that meant, what makes us different from everyone else. What do Jews do, I asked them?
“Jews ask questions. And they are rewarded for it. It is encouraged,” they said.

We can see this quite clearly if we look into history. Over centuries, our ancestors made questioning into an art form, and if you stacked up all the books filled with all of their questions, the pile would reach to the moon and back.

So, I took questioning in as a part of my identity, really. I took it to heart. I went off to public school, and in every class, I asked questions. And the teachers loved it. So I kept on doing it, and I was content.

At a certain point, though, the same questions as ever, the whats and whens and hows don’t ring true with you anymore. Because you know them already.
When I looked at the world around me and started asking why, I hit a wall with my questions.

When the things you want to know become unanswerable, they also become unaskable. Because if you ask the secular world questions on hard, concrete facts, scientific processes, historical events, it will answer you very gladly. It knows these things!

But the second you face society and ask them, “Why are we here?” it will turn away, and tell you to stop wasting your time.

Now, this, in my mind, is a terrible thing. When a question makes you realize that you don’t know something, you should go looking, not pretend like there’s something wrong with the one who asked!

Yet there was nothing I could do about this. But I was, am, and will always be a Jew. And I had questions!
I knew that we’re encouraged to ask for a reason. And now, it made sense. You ask a question for one reason only. Not to check a box, but because you want an answer. And I hadn’t found any answers yet.

So, I picked up my questions and went to ask elsewhere.

I asked a person who plants both feet firmly out of the secular world, yet, at the instruction of the Rebbe, still stretches out a hand to welcome in the curious. I went to my local Chabad Rabbi.

And there, one Shabbos day, which I was not observing yet, in the shul at the JCC, I asked about good and evil, life after death, why we’re all here in this world.
And what did the rabbi do? He turned around…went to the bookshelf, and took down a Tanya – the basic book of Chabad Chasidus.

And for every single one of my questions – on-topic and off – which ranged from Tanya questions all the way to questions of simple curiosity, he gave me an answer. However long it took.
And, sitting there, getting to know G-d just a little bit better through Chasidus, I thought to myself: I am a Jew. I have asked questions. And this is my reward.
In high school, I became involved in CTEEN through my local Chabad House and decided to attend Bais Chana UnCamp. That was a life changing experience. It led me to the decision to lead an observant life and to attend seminary.

I have been attending Machon L’Yahadus Women’s Yeshiva in Crown Heights, Brooklyn, for nearly a year. And every day I spend now in Chasidus class, I thank G-d for providing me the answers to questions I have asked and the questions that hadn’t even crossed my mind yet.

Because I know now that as Jews, we are full of questions about the world and its making, but that G-d provides us with answers.

It could be about the deepest components of this world’s creation, and G-d will give us the deepest sort of answers, based on His deepest revealed secrets.
And the best part? The questions could seem completely ridiculous! And G-d will still give us a deep and thought-out answer. The other day in class, we studied a Maamer that had a half-page long, Kabbalistic explanation of why grass can’t talk.
G-d wants us to know Him, and so He gave us Chasidic teachings. But in order to merit receiving an answer, we have to ask first.
In the time shortly before Chasidic teachings were first revealed, the days were dark. The simple Jews, who had long been neglected and overlooked, asked the greatest scholars of their generation: “What are we doing here, and why has it become so dark?”

And they were turned away.

So who did they ask now? G-d.

And He answered them, saying, “You are here because I love you – just as you are. Because you are simple, not in spite of it. But you have said that it is dark, so I will give you some light. Now go, and learn more about Me.” And He said this through the Baal Shem Tov.

So, we picked ourselves up, and became closer to G-d than ever before. Our story – whether as a people throughout history, or as individuals, involves asking questions.
Because we are Jews, and we have questions, G-d means for us to get answers.

Maybe, sometimes, the answers to our questions won’t come easily, and like in the famous story of Hillel and Shammai, the Shammais of this world will turn us away, tell us to stop asking, and to be content with what we have. But we have to keep asking. Because we know that G-d’s answer to us, when it finally comes, will be all the more beautiful.
May we receive all of our answers soon in the Third and final Beis HaMikdosh!

Partner with Machon L’Yahadus. Help ensure that young Jewish women like Nadia can continue to ask questions, and find answers! Purchase tickets for fabulous prizes at their upcoming Hakhel Boutique Auction Motzei Shabbos, 28 Teves, January 21 at Lubavitcher Yeshiva at machonauction.com