https://outorah.org/p/159052
3 MASHALIM (ANALOGIES), TESTS FOR TZADIKIM (RIGHTEOUS) VS. EVERYONE
MIDRASHIM WITH THE THREE MASHALIM (ANALOGIES)
Bereshit Rabba (32:3) tells us:
“Hashem tests the tzadik, but He hates the soul of the rasha (evil one) and the lover of violence.”
The craftsman does not test defective vessels because they cannot withstand even a single blow without breaking. And which ones does He check? The strong vessels — even if he would bang on them many times, they wouldn’t break. Similarly, G-d does not test the wicked but only the righteous…
When a flax worker knows that his flax is good, [he knows that] the more he beats it the more it improves and changes. And when he knows that the flax is bad, [he knows that] it will not be able to withstand even a single blow without breaking. Similarly, G-d does not test the wicked but only the righteous…
When a person has two bulls, one of which is strong and the other weak, upon which one does he place the yoke? Isn’t it on the strong one? Similarly G-d tests only the tzadikim.
Also Bereshit Rabba (Parshat Noach — 32:3), Bereshit Rabba (Parshat Noach — 34:2), Bereshit Rabba (Parshat Vayera — 55:2), Shir HaShirim (2:35), Medrash Tehillim (Socher Tov #11), Yalkut Shimoni — Tehillim (247/654)
The Meforshim (commentaries) discuss these medrashim —
The concept of these three mashalim (analogies) is to teach us that a nisayon has three different aspects. A nisayon could be for the sake of the tester — the one being tested — or for the onlookers. And since these medrashim tell us that Hashem tests only the tzadik, they bring mashalim which are fitting specifically for a tzadik to be tested.
The mashal of the vessels, where the good one is hit, is not to improve it, but rather to see how strong it is. This is for the sake of the buyers who see that the merchandise is good [i.e., for publicity]. The righteousness of the tzadik needs to be completely expressed in terms of midat hadin (the quality of justice), and not remain merely in potential. The tzadikim are evaluated and tested so that people will know their accomplishments, and why Hashem gave them benefit. This is also [so to speak] for the sake of Hashem, the Tester — to publicize His love, without any suspicion that He was [unfairly] favoring the tzadik, G-d forbid. This is the matter of Avraham and requires the nisayon to be on a mitzvat asei (positive commandment), so that others will see what a wondrous thing he actually did, like the Akeidah, to fulfill the mitzvat asei.
The mashal of the flax, where it is struck, is not to see how strong it is, but rather to improve it and fix it. Through the banging, it becomes white and pure. With this nisayon, which Hashem uses to test the tzadik, He will bring yissurim shel ahavah (difficulties from love) upon him to cleanse and purify his soul. This nisayon is for the sake of the person himself. His actions should improve through the nisyonot which he stood up to, to purify and prepare him in terms of his avodat Hashem (service of G-d).
This will remove impurities of the yetzer hara (negative inclination) from him, to purify him, like one purifies silver. This could [even] involve bringing him to [a situation where he may be tempted to] transgress, and then beginning a war between his yetzer hatov (positive inclination) and his yetzer hara (negative inclination). In his righteousness he will be able to conquer the yetzer hara.
This is a nisayon through [the temptation of] a transgression. [And, for example,] this is the matter of Yosef, and similar cases.
And, finally, the mashal of the bull is neither to see how strong it is, nor to improve it. Rather, it is referring to a situation where its owner has many burdens and is testing his bull – perhaps it can carry more [for the sake of the world], which will [also] be good for it. The more the bull can carry, the more food [i.e., s’char (spiritual benefit)] the owner will give it afterwards.
Yissurim and nisyonot sometimes come upon a tzadik, [instead of] Hashem bringing negative decrees upon the world. The tzadik is able to bear the decrees for the sake of the entire world, to atone for them, and to protect them. This is compared to the two bulls, where the yoke is placed on the stronger one. Similarly, when Hashem wants to bring the yoke of His decrees for the transgressions of the world, He brings it on the strong ones, who are able to stand up to His decrees and His yoke.
Hashem tests the tzadik, by bringing yissurim upon him, to test whether he will accept them with love, for the sake of the generation, without rebelling. This is learned from Noach, since the yoke of yissurim were placed upon Noach in the ark.
Any one of these three aspects could explain why a tzadik is given a nisayon.
Sometimes he is tested like a vessel, to know how strong he is in his righteousness.
Other times he is like the flax, which is able to be improved by the nisayon.
And he can also be compared to the bull. When Hashem needs to give a large onesh (negative consequences for bad behavior) to the generation, He may place a large amount on the tzadik (righteous person) and afterwards give him much s’char (benefit).
(Netziv, HaEmek Davar — Bereshit 22:1 — Akeidah, Malbym — Bereshit 22 — Akeidah, — Derech Chaim — Pirkei Avot 5:3, HaMarzu — quoted by Maharal in Derech Chaim — Pirkei Avot 5:3, and Alshich — Bereshit 22:1 — Akeidah)
Know further that G-d trieth the righteous, for knowing that the righteous will do His will, He desires to make him even more upright, and so He commands him to undertake a test, but He does not try the wicked, who would not obey. Thus all trials in the Torah are for the good of the one who is being tried.
We must not make the mistake of thinking that G’d tested Avraham in order to find out for Himself how Avraham would respond to this trial. It was a “test” only when viewed from the vantage point of his contemporaries who could not have known in advance how Avraham would respond to a trial which conflicted so absolutely with everything he thought he knew about what G’d wanted from man. G’d used this “test” in order to demonstrate to the people of his own time as well as to his descendants the greatness of this man’s devotion to G’d. He did not flinch for a moment nor even argue with G’d as he had done when advised of the impending judgment of the people of Sodom. We read of a general principle that G’d tests the righteous in Psalms 11,5 ה' צדיק יבחן, “G’d will examine (test) the righteous.”
The reason why this paragraph follows the report about what happened to Avraham and Sarah when they were in Gerar with Avimelech has been explained in the Midrash. The word נסה is an expression similar to זעף, “to be angry, displeased.” Onkelos translates it thus in 40,6 where he explains the word זועפים as נסיסים. G’d had been displeased with the oath Avraham swore to Avimelech guaranteeing future immunity of Avimelech’s offspring from incursions by Avraham’s descendants. He should not have given the seven sheep to Avimelech. Eventually, (during the time of the High Priest Eli) the Holy Ark was captured and remained in the hands of the Philistines for seven months before the latter returned it having found that it was a source of curse for them. (compare Bereshit Rabbah 54,4). The incident of the binding of Yitzchak was designed to demonstrate the extent of Avraham’s reverence for G’d as well as his love for G’d. Love is something which can exist on three levels:
1) Someone loves his king and because he loves him he tells others about the king’s virtues and his accomplishments. Such a tribute to his king does not involve the one who extols the king’s virtues in any sacrifice. It does not cost him a penny to tell others complimentary things about his king.
2) Love on a higher level is someone who spends a great deal of his own money to make his king popular; however, even he draws the line at laying down his life on behalf of that king.
3) This subject not only tells the world about the greatness of his king and spends all his money advertising this fact, but he is also prepared to lay down his own life on behalf of his king. Avraham’s love for G’d, the king of Kings, included all the levels we have just described. We know from 21,33 that he publicly proclaimed the greatness of G’d. He did so because the other people of his generation attributed the order in the universe to horoscopes, etc. (Maimonides Hilchot Avodah Zara 1,2). Avraham guided people along the path of true religion and monotheism. We are told in Job 5,8 saying exactly this, i.e. ואל אלוקים אשים דברתי, “I aim my words as proving that G’d is the cause of events.” The speaker, Eliphaz, makes the point that fate is not blind but that an all-seeing G’d guides it. He does not assign your fate to the stars, leaving it all to them.
Avraham had also demonstrated the second level of love for G’d by the manner in which he entertained guests lavishly at great cost to himself, all in order to proclaim G’d’s greatness. Our sages (Midrash Tehillim 110) illustrate this when they said that Avraham’s tent had an entrance in all four directions. Any guest who entered by one door would leave by another so as to avoid feeling embarrassed by other travelers who would see him. We find support for this in 21,33: “he planted an orchard at Be’er Sheva;” we had already explained that this referred to Avraham providing food, shelter and escort for his visitors. Not only would he welcome guests but he would actually run after them to make sure they did not pass him by; He did this even while still suffering from the after-effects of the circumcision (18,2).
He had demonstrated the third and highest level of love for G’d when he laid down his life and preferred to be burned in Nimrod’s furnace rather than desist from preaching the greatness of his Creator. This is why G’d called him (Isaiah 41,5) אברהם אוהבי, “Avraham who loves Me.”
In the matter of his binding Yitzchak in preparation for slaughtering him as an offering to G’d, Avraham demonstrated his love for G’d in a manner which is quite beyond comparison to any of the three levels we have mentioned. This was a level which goes way beyond martyrdom. Had Avraham even possessed 100 bodies, it would have been appropriate that he sacrifice all of them for the sake of his son Yitzchak. What he did here bears no resemblance to anything he had ever done before. This “test” was totally different from any previous tests which Avraham had passed with flying colors. Our imagination is quite inadequate to properly grasp the enormity of what was demanded of him and how he complied.
Avraham had longed to have a son such as Yitzchak for many decades. When Yitzchak was finally born, his love for him grew from year to year, and the certainty that such a miracle would not be repeated and that he would not have another if anything were to happen to Yitzchak must have crossed his mind many times. When he was suddenly commanded to kill Yitzchak with his own hands, we can hardly imagine how he must have felt on a journey of three days towards the unnamed site of the sacrifice, and how his reason must have assailed his feelings of reverence for G’d which alone could prompt him to go through with such an act. Avraham realised that in spite of all his love for Yitzchak, his love for G’d must take precedence in a situation where the two loves could not be reconciled. Had G’d told Avraham to slaughter Yitzchak immediately, without giving him three days during which he had to reflect on what he had been asked to do, the command would have been far easier to comply with. On the other hand, seeing that G’d gave Avraham three days to think about the enormity of what he had been asked to do made the decision to go through with it one that could not be attributed to a momentary spiritual high, to a spontaneous act, but it was an act which had been carefully considered and which reflected Avraham’s deep-seated feelings of overriding reverence for G’d. This is what the sages in Bereshit Rabbah 55,5 must have had in mind when they said: “why was Avraham to offer Yitzchak only on the third day and not on the first day of his journey? Answer: in order not to give the gentile nations an opportunity to claim that he had been emotionally disturbed, that G’d’s command had overwhelmed him so much that he went and slaughtered his son. This is why he performed this task with his own hands as a demonstration of both his love and reverence for G’d.” The element of reverence referred to has nothing to do with the fear of being punished for non-compliance, and the love demonstrated had nothing to do with any compensation he hoped to receive from G’d in return for displaying this degree of love for His Creator. Any act dictated by love which looks forward to some kind of reward be it only at the back of the person’s mind performing the deed, is not truly an act of love. There are people who drink a bitter-tasting medicine because they hope that in the end the beneficial results will compensate them for the galling experience. When G’d said to Avraham (22,12) at the end of the paragraph עתה ידעתי כי ירא אלוקים אתה, “now I know that you are indeed a G’d-fearing individual,” (and we know that G’d knew beforehand that Avraham would not flinch), this simply meant that as of that moment Avraham’s potential had been converted into an actuality. Not only had G’d had proof of Avraham’s deed, but He had observed with what alacrity and single-mindedness of purpose Avraham had applied himself to the task.
He could have taken with him a number of members of his household. He had taken only the two “lads” the Torah spoke of i.e. Eliezer and Ishmael (according to Targum Yonathan as well as Rashi). Even these two “lads” did not accompany him to the top of Mount Moriah (22,5) as Avraham had told them: שבו לכם פה עם החמור, “remain here with the donkey, etc.” He did not want them to come with him on “the last mile,” in order that neither of them should attempt to stay his hand at the last moment.
5e3d2ff54/Chief_Lech_Lecha.mp3
Tests are part of the essential fabric of life. They make us who we are. Through adversity and struggle we stretch ourselves to the limits of our abilities, and discover our true potential. In fact, the Torah and the prophetic writings are replete with great leaders who endured difficult tests and travails.
This week's parsha begins with a test for Abraham, when God asks him to leave his home and his birthplace and his family to journey to an unknown destination - which was ultimately to be the Promised Land for the Jewish people. This was the second in a series of 10 extremely difficult trials that would test Abraham's mettle and mould him into the father of the Jewish People. Among them were being commanded to circumcise himself at the age of 99; his wife Sarah's abduction at the hands of Pharaoh; and, most powerfully of all, God's command that he sacrifice his only son, Isaac.
These were tests of his courage and conviction, of his commitment and stamina, of his faith in God's justice and ultimate goodness.
Many other great leaders of the Torah faced similar ordeals. Joseph famously withstood many tests of his moral principles and integrity. Potiphar's wife attempted - time and again - to seduce Joseph, and though he was an anonymous 17-year-old slave boy, far away from home, he did the right thing and warded off her advances, even though it eventually cost him his liberty. Languishing in the dungeons after Potiphar falsely accused him, and then later, as viceroy of Egypt - both challenging situations for different reasons - he maintained his faith and integrity, to the extent that our sages describe him as Yosef HaTazaddik - Joseph the Righteous.
King David was another leader who passed many tests of his faith in Hashem's justice and compassion. He was pursued by his father-in-law, King Saul; and his own son led a military coup against him, which forced him to flee his palace. Yet, throughout, he remained faithful and devout.
Like Abraham, Joseph and King David, our lives are filled with episodes that challenge our faith in God, and their unwavering belief under extreme duress serves as inspiration to us all.
These tests do not have to be dramatic; they occur every single day of our lives. Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzatto, known as the Ramchal, explains in his classic work, Mesilat Yesharim, that everything in life is a test; that wealth and health and success can be tests because they can lead to arrogance and a sense of smug satisfaction with oneself. On other hand, poverty, illness and suffering can also be tests, because they can challenge us and cause us to be bitter and resentful. So every encounter in life can be a test in one way or another.
What is the purpose of a test, and what does it mean in the context of our relationship with God? Firstly, it is important to accept that we can never fully understand the rationale behind God's workings in this world. The Talmud (Berachot 7a) describes how Moshe asked Hashem why some righteous people suffer and some wicked people prosper. God answered: "No man shall see Me and live," (Shemot 33:20) which, on a simple level, means that human beings, constrained by the limitations of our minds, can never fully comprehend the depth of the Divine. Yet, despite these limitations, our sages help us understand the idea of tests and challenges in general terms.
Conventionally, the purpose of a test is to assess the abilities of the one being tested. When God is the examiner, however, this makes no sense: He knows everything. He knows us better than we know ourselves. He knows what our capabilities are. What, then, is the purpose of being tested by God? Rabbi Moshe ben Nachman, known as the Ramban, explains in his commentary on Bereishit that the tests we undergo during our lives aren't for God's benefit, they are for our benefit. They give us the opportunity to transform our inherent potential into actual spiritual achievements; by putting the emotional, spiritual and physical resources we were blessed with into action, we become self-actualised beings, and ensure we can be rewarded not only for our good intentions, but also for our good deeds. Rabbi Chaim Shmuelevitz proves from Talmudic sources that God only gives us tests and challenges we are capable of overcoming. If we are successful, if we are able to rise to the challenges, we emerge stronger, more elevated and more meritorious.
In his commentary on Bereishit, Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch says the Hebrew word for test, nisayon, is related to the word nassa, meaning to raise or to elevate, as well as the word nisiya, which means to travel or move forward. Every test, every challenge, is an opportunity to move forward, to grow, to become stronger and more elevated, through exercising the latent powers within our soul. Not only do challenges uncover hidden reserves, they can also be the impetus for creating new strengths, new reserves. Indeed, the human soul has miraculous capabilities beyond what we can rationally comprehend. We contain multitudes, untold depths. The Torah (Bereishit 1:27) tells us that human beings were created "in the image of God"; alone among the creations, we are imbued with a heavenly soul, a spark of the Divine.
The Midrash (Bereishit Rabbah 55:6) also relates the word nisayon to the Hebrew word nes, which means a banner or a flag. The miraculous, seemingly superhuman strength exhibited by people who withstand severe tests with faith and resolve is a flag, a signal to the world, hoisted high to inspire us all. When facing life's challenges, the superhuman strength and courage of an Abraham or a Joseph or a King David can inspire us. We need to have faith in God to give us strength and guidance to withstand our tests and actualise our potential, but also have faith in ourselves - in the power of our God-given souls.
This idea - of converting our potential into reality - is actually the fundamental purpose of our lives. The Torah calls the first human being Adam, which comes from the Hebrew word adama, meaning "earth" or "ground". What is the connection between the two? The Maharal explains that humans are similar to the ground in one essential respect: they are both pure potential. Whether or not a piece of land will produce fruit depends on what is done with it. Even the most fertile piece of land will not produce fruit if it is left to lie fallow; it needs to be ploughed, fertilised and cultivated. So too, the human being is pure potential, and to live a fruitful, productive life requires great and continuous efforts. We come into this world as pure potential and, through the process of life, we actualise that potential. And it's up to us; we have been given free choice to turn that potential into personal growth and mitzvot and spiritual greatness - or we can choose to squander it and simply let it lie dormant.
Ultimately, it's through the process of struggle and difficulty, even failure, that a person can transform their potential into greatness.
I'll close with a remarkable letter written by Rabbi Yitzchak Hutner (Igrot Pachad Yitzchak 128) in response to a student who had written to him complaining of the tests and challenges he faced in his personal development:
"... A failing that many of us experience is that when we focus on the lofty level of accomplishments of great people, we only focus on how they are complete in this or in that area. At the same time, we omit mention of the inner struggles that had previously raged within them. A listener would get the impression that these individuals came out of the land of their Creator in ideal form.
Everyone is awed at the purity of speech of the Chofetz Chaim, considering it a miraculous phenomenon. But who knows of the battles, struggles, and obstacles, the slumps and regressions that the Chofetz Chaim encountered in his war with the yetzer hara [evil inclination]? There are many such examples to which a discerning individual such as yourself can certainly apply the rule. The result of this misconception is that when an ambitious young man of spirit and enthusiasm meets obstacles, falls, and slumps, he imagines himself unworthy...
Know, however, my dear friend, that your soul is rooted not in the tranquillity of the yetzer tov [good inclination], but rather in the battle of the yetzer tov. The English expression, "Lose a battle and win the war" applies to this phenomenon... [King Solomon,] the wisest of all men, has said, "A righteous man falls seven times and rises again." (Proverbs 24:16) Fools believe that the intent of this verse is to teach us something remarkable: the righteous man has fallen seven times and yet he resiliently rises. But the knowledgeable know that the source of the righteous person's ability to rise again is precisely through his seven falls...
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by Chief Rabbi Warren Goldstein
Lech Lecha (Genesis 12-17 )
Tests are part of the essential fabric of life. They make us who we are. Through adversity and struggle we stretch ourselves to the limits of our abilities, and discover our true potential. In fact, the Torah and the prophetic writings are replete with great leaders who endured difficult tests and travails.
This week's parsha begins with a test for Abraham, when God asks him to leave his home and his birthplace and his family to journey to an unknown destination - which was ultimately to be the Promised Land for the Jewish people. This was the second in a series of 10 extremely difficult trials that would test Abraham's mettle and mould him into the father of the Jewish People. Among them were being commanded to circumcise himself at the age of 99; his wife Sarah's abduction at the hands of Pharaoh; and, most powerfully of all, God's command that he sacrifice his only son, Isaac.
These were tests of his courage and conviction, of his commitment and stamina, of his faith in God's justice and ultimate goodness.
Many other great leaders of the Torah faced similar ordeals. Joseph famously withstood many tests of his moral principles and integrity. Potiphar's wife attempted - time and again - to seduce Joseph, and though he was an anonymous 17-year-old slave boy, far away from home, he did the right thing and warded off her advances, even though it eventually cost him his liberty. Languishing in the dungeons after Potiphar falsely accused him, and then later, as viceroy of Egypt - both challenging situations for different reasons - he maintained his faith and integrity, to the extent that our sages describe him as Yosef HaTazaddik - Joseph the Righteous.
King David was another leader who passed many tests of his faith in Hashem's justice and compassion. He was pursued by his father-in-law, King Saul; and his own son led a military coup against him, which forced him to flee his palace. Yet, throughout, he remained faithful and devout.
Like Abraham, Joseph and King David, our lives are filled with episodes that challenge our faith in God, and their unwavering belief under extreme duress serves as inspiration to us all.
These tests do not have to be dramatic; they occur every single day of our lives. Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzatto, known as the Ramchal, explains in his classic work, Mesilat Yesharim, that everything in life is a test; that wealth and health and success can be tests because they can lead to arrogance and a sense of smug satisfaction with oneself. On other hand, poverty, illness and suffering can also be tests, because they can challenge us and cause us to be bitter and resentful. So every encounter in life can be a test in one way or another.
What is the purpose of a test, and what does it mean in the context of our relationship with God? Firstly, it is important to accept that we can never fully understand the rationale behind God's workings in this world. The Talmud (Berachot 7a) describes how Moshe asked Hashem why some righteous people suffer and some wicked people prosper. God answered: "No man shall see Me and live," (Shemot 33:20) which, on a simple level, means that human beings, constrained by the limitations of our minds, can never fully comprehend the depth of the Divine. Yet, despite these limitations, our sages help us understand the idea of tests and challenges in general terms.
Conventionally, the purpose of a test is to assess the abilities of the one being tested. When God is the examiner, however, this makes no sense: He knows everything. He knows us better than we know ourselves. He knows what our capabilities are. What, then, is the purpose of being tested by God? Rabbi Moshe ben Nachman, known as the Ramban, explains in his commentary on Bereishit that the tests we undergo during our lives aren't for God's benefit, they are for our benefit. They give us the opportunity to transform our inherent potential into actual spiritual achievements; by putting the emotional, spiritual and physical resources we were blessed with into action, we become self-actualised beings, and ensure we can be rewarded not only for our good intentions, but also for our good deeds. Rabbi Chaim Shmuelevitz proves from Talmudic sources that God only gives us tests and challenges we are capable of overcoming. If we are successful, if we are able to rise to the challenges, we emerge stronger, more elevated and more meritorious.
In his commentary on Bereishit, Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch says the Hebrew word for test, nisayon, is related to the word nassa, meaning to raise or to elevate, as well as the word nisiya, which means to travel or move forward. Every test, every challenge, is an opportunity to move forward, to grow, to become stronger and more elevated, through exercising the latent powers within our soul. Not only do challenges uncover hidden reserves, they can also be the impetus for creating new strengths, new reserves. Indeed, the human soul has miraculous capabilities beyond what we can rationally comprehend. We contain multitudes, untold depths. The Torah (Bereishit 1:27) tells us that human beings were created "in the image of God"; alone among the creations, we are imbued with a heavenly soul, a spark of the Divine.
The Midrash (Bereishit Rabbah 55:6) also relates the word nisayon to the Hebrew word nes, which means a banner or a flag. The miraculous, seemingly superhuman strength exhibited by people who withstand severe tests with faith and resolve is a flag, a signal to the world, hoisted high to inspire us all. When facing life's challenges, the superhuman strength and courage of an Abraham or a Joseph or a King David can inspire us. We need to have faith in God to give us strength and guidance to withstand our tests and actualise our potential, but also have faith in ourselves - in the power of our God-given souls.
This idea - of converting our potential into reality - is actually the fundamental purpose of our lives. The Torah calls the first human being Adam, which comes from the Hebrew word adama, meaning "earth" or "ground". What is the connection between the two? The Maharal explains that humans are similar to the ground in one essential respect: they are both pure potential. Whether or not a piece of land will produce fruit depends on what is done with it. Even the most fertile piece of land will not produce fruit if it is left to lie fallow; it needs to be ploughed, fertilised and cultivated. So too, the human being is pure potential, and to live a fruitful, productive life requires great and continuous efforts. We come into this world as pure potential and, through the process of life, we actualise that potential. And it's up to us; we have been given free choice to turn that potential into personal growth and mitzvot and spiritual greatness - or we can choose to squander it and simply let it lie dormant.
Ultimately, it's through the process of struggle and difficulty, even failure, that a person can transform their potential into greatness.
I'll close with a remarkable letter written by Rabbi Yitzchak Hutner (Igrot Pachad Yitzchak 128) in response to a student who had written to him complaining of the tests and challenges he faced in his personal development:
"... A failing that many of us experience is that when we focus on the lofty level of accomplishments of great people, we only focus on how they are complete in this or in that area. At the same time, we omit mention of the inner struggles that had previously raged within them. A listener would get the impression that these individuals came out of the land of their Creator in ideal form.
Everyone is awed at the purity of speech of the Chofetz Chaim, considering it a miraculous phenomenon. But who knows of the battles, struggles, and obstacles, the slumps and regressions that the Chofetz Chaim encountered in his war with the yetzer hara [evil inclination]? There are many such examples to which a discerning individual such as yourself can certainly apply the rule. The result of this misconception is that when an ambitious young man of spirit and enthusiasm meets obstacles, falls, and slumps, he imagines himself unworthy...
Know, however, my dear friend, that your soul is rooted not in the tranquillity of the yetzer tov [good inclination], but rather in the battle of the yetzer tov. The English expression, "Lose a battle and win the war" applies to this phenomenon... [King Solomon,] the wisest of all men, has said, "A righteous man falls seven times and rises again." (Proverbs 24:16) Fools believe that the intent of this verse is to teach us something remarkable: the righteous man has fallen seven times and yet he resiliently rises. But the knowledgeable know that the source of the righteous person's ability to rise again is precisely through his seven falls...
Nisyonot The view of Rambam
https://prod.sefaria.org/sheets/126634?lang=bi