Does one recite Hagomel after a flight? Some authorities rule not to say the bracha, because flights have become routine. Others say that if one flies over an ocean or desert then one should recite it. Rav Moshe Feinstein held that one says Hagomel after every flight because it is an act of overcoming nature. Other poskim disagree. When there's a questionable situation, one should receive an aliyah and have in mind while answering to Barchu, to thank Hashem. Hagomel should be recited in the presence of a minyan, ideally in front of a sefer Torah, while receiving an aliyah. The Chasam Sofer explains that the bimah represents the altar and itis as if one offers a korban todah.

Several authorities say women are also required to say Hagomel. Some rule that one man and eight other women are enough to count as a quorum for this. Others maintain that ten men are necessary. Some authorities worry about modesty issues and rule that the men should be relatives. Others say she should recite the blessing from the women's section. Some rule that because Hagomel generally requires a minyan of men, the mitzva requirement was never imposed on women. Different communities have different customs. However everyone agrees that a woman can say Mizmor L'todah.

There's a dispute among the Rishonim as to whether one only recites Hagomel when one is saved from the four scenarios Some authorities rule that for a different hazardous situation, the blessing should be recited without shem u'malchut. Ashkenazim follow the view that any dangerous predicament requires Hagomel. Sefardim don't say the blessing as frequently, following the view of the Shulchan Aruch. However in a situation where one is unsure if Hagomel is required, one can have special concentration in the daily recital of Mizmor l'todah.

In the future, all the various songs of praise for Hashem will be nullified except Mizmor l'todah. We say it every day because in reality we should be thanking Hashem all the time for the natural order of the world. It is recited standing up and with great joy as if one is offering a thanksgiving offering.

In Masechet Brachot, Reish Lakish says, "When a person busies himself with Torah, yissurim separates from him. In the evening the bird can go up." This refers to Torah which lifts up one's eyes. "And there is no evening like suffering," as it says, "In the darkness of night." Yissurim comes as a result of lack. It is meant to purify and galvanize change. Torah can elevate a person to the point where yissurim have no dominion over him. Torah is wholeness.

Rav Huna says in the name of Rav, "If a person sees yissurim coming upon him he should examine his deeds." If he doesn't find any personal flaws, he should assume it is because of bitul Torah. If it is not bitul Torah, then it is out of love, (not lack) as it says, "Hashem rebukes those whom he loves." He wants to draw us closer, so He afflicts us. A person could suffer and not gain anything. He could choose to learn nothing and blame it all on external causes. Alternatively one can grow and view it as a catalyst for change.

Rav Yaakov Bar Idi and Rav Chana bar Chanina differed on their view of suffering. One said that any suffering that prevents a person from learning Torah cannot be yissurim shel ahavah (suffering out of love) for how can you turn someone on and then take away his ability to act upon it? The other says that if a person can still pray to Hashem and achieve deveikut (connection), it's still yissurim shel ahavaha. Rav Chiya and other opinions maintain that even suffering where one cannot pray is an expression of Hashem's love.

Suffering can be extrinsic in that it is a means towards actualizing potential. It also works intrinsically by purifying the body so that the soul becomes the person's primary identity. This is learned from the law of shen v'ayin. A non-Jewish slave who loses a tooth or eye must be freed. If a slave can redefine himself as a free person through minor suffering, how much more so can a person whose entire body is afflicted with suffering become a different person.

The Torah commands us to add salt to a sacrificial offering. This is called brit melach. Similarly, yissurim are also called a covenant. Just as salt enhances food, yissurim sweeten sin by cleansing and purifying the person. Suffering humbles the body and atones for sins. It drives a person to begin thinking beyond physicality.

When a person cannot find any sin, it is bitul Torah, meaning he has unfulfilled potential that must be brought out. Yissurim puts a person on the fast track drawing out his untapped strengths.

Hashem doesn't beat dead horses. There's a vast difference between what a refined person and what a vulgar person can learn from suffering. For a tzaddik, it's a sign of love. Yissurim expel the material side of a person and propel him higher.

Nobody longs for what they have. We long for what we don't have. In order to generate this yearning, Hashem created barriers to prevent us from being who we are. When things are easy for us materially, we don't think about spirituality because we are so involved in our physical self-fulfillment. Therefore, Hashem creates obstacles in the form of suffering to propel us to higher levels of spiritual yearning.

After the destruction of the first temple, the sages instituted four fasts to commemorate the tragedy. These fasts were obligatory and one had to fast both in the evening and by day and keep all five inuyim (afflictions). However after the second temple destruction, only Tisha B'av remained obligatory. The other three fasts became minor. What caused this change?

When the Jews first entered Eretz Yisrael, it acquired a special holiness which transferred over to its produce bringing into effect the mitzvot hateluyot b'aretz. The Rambam writes that after the first destruction, the land lost this sanctity. However after the second destruction, it retained its holiness. This was because when the Jews first came into the land, it was with kivush-conquest. When they were driven out, the kivush was revoked and in consequence the land lost its holiness. During the second temple, our connection to the land wasn't based on force of arms but rather on chazakah-peaceful settlement. This could never be revoked.

The first destruction created a very deep level of mourning because it severed our attachment to the land thus necessitating four complete fasts. However the second destruction wasn't as disastrous because the sanctity of the land remained. We were still connected spiritually. Therefore the three fasts became minor.

The first exile was a gezeira-an absolute decree from heaven that was immutable. The four obligatory fasts signified this terrible reality. However the second exile has no set time period. Its end depends solely on our actions. Hashem is ready to bring Mashiach as soon as we repent. In this sense, the first destruction was worse than the second, in that there was nothing that could we do to change it. That is why the three fasts were obligatory then and are now minor.

The first temple was established with din-strict justice. More than 400 years passed before the Jews merited to build it. The second temple was given to us straightaway. Although the Jews were at a spiritual low, Hashem utilized His middat hachesed (kindness) and gave us the temple out of love, with the intention that even if we didn't deserve it at the time, His love would help us become worthy of it.

The destruction of the first temple signified the end of the era of Torah sh'beketav, the prophetic law as recorded by the prophets. The second temple represented the era of Torah sh'bal peh as expounded by the sages. The written Torah is din, strict law. It can never be changed. The oral law is chesed, it's constantly evolving. Hashem gave us the opportunity to contribute to the discovery of Torah. Although we were driven out of the land, the essential Jewish soul was unaffected by the destruction of the second temple. Torah scholarship continues to flourish. Therefore the three fast are now minor.

Question:

What is the proper balance of trusting Hashem and being responsible?  According to the book, "The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People," most things are preventable and can be controlled, as long as you are smart, think ahead, and prepare for different situations. I trust Hashem, but I have so much to work on when it comes to my own actions, that I can't write off everything that happens as His decision, because I could have really done better.  Is this correct?

Answer:

You can do everything right. You can plan ahead, define what your goals are, take steps to work towards it, and consult, but you will not necessarily get the results you anticipated. You can follow the "seven habits," but unlike what the book espouses, it doesn't guarantee a positive outcome.

On the flipside, if you do everything wrong, your results will most likely be influenced by your misguided decisions. Hashem created the world in a way where he gives us what we need if our hands are outstretched to receive. The balance of hishtadlut (effort) and bitachon (trust) is doing what you can and trusting Hashem. It's opening your hands to receive, but realizing that ultimately Hashem will give you what's good for you. However, no outside force can change anything except Hashem Himself.