Parshas HaMan: Parnassah, Hishtadlus, and Lechem Min HaShamayim

Topics

• Parshas HaMan and the Secret of Parnassah
• Hashgachah Pratis in Every Person's Portion
• A Segulah Is Supposed to Change the Person
• When Should Parshas HaMan Be Said?
• Parshas HaMan as a Request
• The Promise Is Not Riches
• The Segulah Has to Enter the Way I Live
• Yaakov Avinu, Galus, and Parnassah
• The Worm in Parnassah: Gaivah
• The Pride of “I Made It”
• Tola'ah and Rimah
• On Shabbos, Not Even the Smallest Worm
• Hishtadlus Without Owning the Result
• Omdim Tzefufim, Mishtachavim Revachim
• Hashem Blesses the Hishtadlus, Not the Ego
• “HaGezeirah Emes V'HaCharitzus Sheker”
• Yosef HaTzaddik: The Model of Parnassah
• “Biladai” — Yosef Refuses to Take Credit
• This Shiur Is About the Source, Not the Exact Amount of Hishtadlus
• Do Not Confuse Hashkafah With a Personal Psak
• The First Lesson: Anavah
• When the Parnassah Comes to You
• Man Means Matanah
• “Lechem Min HaShamayim”
• One Source for Everything
• Why Is Parnassah the One Thing We Think We Control?
• Living According to the Level You Are Actually On
• “Min” Means It Comes From Somewhere
• Every Parnassah Is a Maaseh Nisim
• Do Not Let the Channel Hide the Source
• “K'Zera Gad” — Mazal and Giving
• What Is Yours Is Already Yours
• “Dvar Yom B'Yomo” — Every Day Has Its Portion
• Ke'ilu Melachtecha Asuyah
• Do Not Merely Read Parshas HaMan—Learn It
• The Curse Is Not Work—It Is Living in Constant Anxiety
• If It Is a Gift, I Appreciate Every Penny
• “Hashem Gave Me This Watch”
• You Are a Passenger

Transcript

## Parshas HaMan and the Secret of Parnassah

Today I want to speak about parnassah, and Parshas Beshalach gives us the perfect place to begin: the parashah of the *man*.

Many people focus on the custom of saying Parshas HaMan as a segulah for parnassah. But before speaking about segulos, I want to understand what Chazal and the poskim actually want us to learn from it.

The Shulchan Aruch brings that it is good to say Parshas HaAkeidah, Parshas HaMan, the Aseres HaDibros, and the sections of the korbanos (Orach Chaim 1:5).

Why Parshas HaMan?

If the entire purpose were simply to recite words, I would still need to know what those words are supposed to do to me.

The *man* was not only food that Klal Yisrael ate in the Midbar. It was a lesson in how a Jew is supposed to think about parnassah.

That is the subject I want to develop: not merely how to say Parshas HaMan, but how to **learn** Parshas HaMan.

## Hashgachah Pratis in Every Person's Portion

The Mishnah Berurah explains the purpose very clearly.

We say Parshas HaMan **“kedei sheyaamin shekol mezonosav ba'im b'hashgachah pratis”**—so that a person will believe that all of his sustenance comes through precise Divine providence.

The *man* taught this in the most visible way.

The Torah says:

**“V'lo he'edif hamarbeh, v'hamamit lo hechsir; ish l'fi achlo lakatu.”**
“The one who gathered much had no extra, and the one who gathered little had no lack; each gathered according to what he needed” (Shemos 16:18).

You could collect more. You could collect less. In the end, each person received his portion.

That is the lesson.

I can exert effort, and halachah certainly requires a person to act responsibly. But the **result** is not produced by the amount of effort. The result comes from Hashem.

The Mishnah Berurah also cites a Yerushalmi that one who says Parshas HaMan is assured that his sustenance will not be diminished.

Notice what it does **not** say.

It does not promise that he will become rich.

The promise is about receiving what he needs.

That distinction is going to follow us through the entire shiur.

## A Segulah Is Supposed to Change the Person

There was a great deal of excitement that week about saying Parshas HaMan. But I want us to be careful.

A segulah is not supposed to become a substitute for understanding.

The Mishnah Berurah tells us directly what Parshas HaMan is meant to produce: **emunah and bitachon**.

I say it so that I remember that my mezonos come from Hashem, with hashgachah pratis.

Some poskim discuss saying it every day. The underlying reason is obvious: this is not a truth that a person hears once and automatically lives with forever. We need to remind ourselves again and again.

Poverty and wealth are not produced by a few words recited mechanically.

The words are supposed to open my eyes.

If I say Parshas HaMan and then spend the rest of the day believing that everything depends entirely on my own cleverness, I missed the point.

The recitation is valuable to the extent that it teaches me to live with what the *man* taught Klal Yisrael every morning:

**My parnassah comes from Hashem.**

## When Should Parshas HaMan Be Said?

There is also a halachic question about the practice itself.

The Shulchan Aruch mentions Parshas HaMan, and the Mishnah Berurah develops its purpose. But different minhagim developed regarding whether and when to say it regularly.

Among Sephardic poskim, the practice is discussed differently, and the Arizal is cited as not saying Parshas HaMan in the ordinary pre-tefillah order.

Why?

That question itself is instructive.

If Parshas HaMan were merely a neutral reading exercise, there would be little reason to object to its placement.

But if saying it is spiritually equivalent to turning toward Hashem for parnassah, then its timing matters.

And this will lead us to a deeper point: the very recitation can function like a request.

That means the segulah is not a detached formula.

It is part of avodas Hashem.

## Parshas HaMan as a Request

Rav Chaim Vital, in the name of the Arizal, is cited as not saying Parshas HaMan before davening.

The reason brought is very revealing.

Before tefillah, a person should not begin by asking for his private needs. The Zohar teaches that requests for parnassah belong after the primary avodah of tefillah.

Why would Parshas HaMan fall into that category?

Because saying it is not merely reading a historical story.

If the Yerushalmi says that one who says it is assured that his mezonos will not diminish, then saying it has the character of turning to Hashem about one's sustenance.

That is already a form of *sho'el tzrachav*.

So even the halachic discussion teaches us the same yesod: Parshas HaMan is not a magical text floating outside the normal order of avodas Hashem. It is part of the relationship between a person and the Ribbono Shel Olam.

And therefore its purpose, its timing, and its meaning all matter.

## The Promise Is Not Riches

There is another point I want to make very clear.

The Yerushalmi's language is **“muftach lo shelo yisma'atu mezonosav”**—his sustenance will not be diminished.

It does not say he will become wealthy.

It does not say he will suddenly have more than he needs.

That difference is important because people sometimes approach segulos with an entirely different expectation. They imagine that a certain recitation should produce wealth.

That is not what the source says.

The language is about **mezonos**—sustenance.

A person should have what he needs.

That is already a tremendous gift.

And it fits the lesson of the manna itself: **“ish l'fi achlo.”** Each person received according to his portion and his need.

The Torah is trying to teach sufficiency, dependence on Hashem, and freedom from the illusion that more effort automatically creates more result.

If I turn Parshas HaMan into a scheme for getting rich, I have almost reversed its message.

## The Segulah Has to Enter the Way I Live

Like every segulah, Parshas HaMan has to change the person.

The Mishnah Berurah already told us what it is supposed to produce: **emunah and bitachon**.

Imagine someone says Parshas HaMan faithfully and then goes into business believing that everything depends on manipulating, outsmarting, or cutting corners.

What did the recitation accomplish?

Nothing.

The segulah is not that I pronounce certain pesukim while continuing to think exactly as I thought before.

The segulah is that I allow the pesukim to open my eyes.

I begin to understand that parnassah has a Source.

I begin to understand that I do not create my own portion.

I begin to understand that dishonest hishtadlus cannot manufacture what Hashem did not designate for me.

The words are supposed to create a new way of looking at money.

That is why we now have to go deeper into Parshas HaMan itself.

## Yaakov Avinu, Galus, and Parnassah

I saw an interesting idea brought in *Shvilei Pinchas* in the name of Rav Yissachar Dov of Belz.

Sukkos has a special connection to parnassah. We speak about rain, geshem, and the coming year's sustenance.

Why?

The Tur associates Sukkos with Yaakov Avinu.

And Yaakov is the first person in the Torah who explicitly davens for parnassah:

**“V'nasan li lechem le'echol u'veged lilbosh”**—that Hashem should give me bread to eat and clothing to wear (Bereishis 28:20).

Why does Yaakov emphasize parnassah?

Because Yaakov is entering **galus**.

And one of the great nisyonos of galus is the nisayon of parnassah.

Galus creates darkness. You do not see clearly where the next opening will come from.

That is why Yaakov establishes Ma'ariv—the tefillah of night.

When one gate appears closed, Hashem can open another.

That is the avodah of parnassah in galus: tefillah, emunah, and bitachon precisely when I do not see the path in front of me.

## The Worm in Parnassah: Gaivah

The Chida, in *Nachal Kedumim*, brings an idea in the name of earlier Ashkenazic authorities and Rabbeinu Ephraim.

When Klal Yisrael left over manna against Hashem's command, the Torah says:

**“Vayarum tola'im vayivash”**—it bred worms and spoiled (Shemos 16:20).

Why worms?

The teaching connects the language of *tola'im* with **gaivah**.

The image is sharp.

What is the worm that gets inside a person's thinking about parnassah?

Gaivah.

The feeling that **I** am in control.

I made this happen.

My strength, my planning, my cleverness, my effort—those are what produce the result.

That is the internal corruption Parshas HaMan is trying to expose.

The manna came every day to teach the opposite:

You act.

You collect.

But you do not create the portion.

Your portion comes from Hashem.

## The Pride of “I Made It”

There is a natural danger that comes with success.

A person becomes full—financially secure, accomplished, successful—and he begins to feel that he has mastered the system.

That is the gaivah of parnassah.

Hishtadlus is necessary. I am not saying that a person should not work.

But hishtadlus and **believing that the work produced the result** are two different things.

That distinction is extremely difficult to live with.

I make calls. I make deals. I think. I plan. I work.

And because the effort and the result appear next to each other, I begin to assume that one created the other.

Parshas HaMan comes to break that assumption.

The people who left manna overnight were afraid about tomorrow. They wanted to secure the future by their own action.

The Torah shows us what happened.

The security they created for themselves turned into decay.

The message is not that effort is forbidden.

The message is that the moment I begin to believe **my effort is the source**, a worm has entered the heart.

## Tola'ah and Rimah

A teaching brought from a talmid of the Gra notices a change in the Torah's language.

When people improperly left the manna overnight, the Torah says it produced **tola'im**.

But regarding the manna saved properly for Shabbos, the Torah says:

**“V'rimah lo haysah bo”**—there was no *rimah* in it (Shemos 16:24).

Why change the word?

The Gra is cited as distinguishing the terms: *tola'ah* refers to the larger worm, while *rimah* can refer to something smaller.

A pasuk in Yeshayah is brought as support, using different terms for what lies beneath and what covers a person after death.

At first glance, this seems like a technical linguistic point.

But once we connect the worms in the manna to gaivah, the distinction becomes much more suggestive.

During the week, there is hishtadlus.

There is a danger that the necessary act becomes a large sense of self.

Shabbos is different.

Shabbos asks me to put even the smallest sense of control down.

## On Shabbos, Not Even the Smallest Worm

The distinction is now striking.

When the manna was left over improperly, there was **tola'ah**—the larger worm.

When the manna was preserved for Shabbos by Hashem's command, **“rimah lo haysah bo”**—not even the smaller form was present.

I want to suggest that this fits perfectly with the yesod we are developing.

During the week, a person must make hishtadlus. That itself requires a certain measure of confidence: I have to act. I have to move. I have to take responsibility.

Chazal recognize that a person may need a **shemini sheb'sheminis**—the tiniest measure of self-assertion.

But Shabbos says something different.

No melachah.

No business.

No attempt to secure the next day's portion.

On Shabbos, even the smallest *rimah* is absent.

I step out of the illusion that I sustain myself.

The food is there.

The portion is there.

And I do nothing to create it.

Shabbos is the purest weekly demonstration of what the manna taught every day:

**The Ribbono Shel Olam provides.**

## Hishtadlus Without Owning the Result

This is the synthesis I want to suggest.

The Chida connects the worm of the manna to gaivah.

The Gra distinguishes between the larger *tola'ah* and the smaller *rimah*.

Put them together.

When a person tries to secure tomorrow because he cannot tolerate dependence on Hashem, the problem is not only anxiety. At its root there is a form of gaivah:

**I have to make sure this happens.**

That is the larger worm.

But during the week, Torah does require hishtadlus. A person must act responsibly. He needs enough self-confidence to get up, go to work, and do what he is supposed to do.

That is the tiny *rimah*—a minimal sense of agency.

Shabbos removes even that.

**“V'rimah lo haysah bo.”**

Not even the little worm.

On Shabbos I stop manipulating tomorrow.

I stop producing.

I stop proving that I can take care of myself.

Shabbos says:

For one day, live completely inside the truth that Hashem is the Provider.

## Omdim Tzefufim, Mishtachavim Revachim

There is a beautiful idea brought in the name of Rav Chaim Volozhiner on the Mishnah describing the Beis HaMikdash:

**“Omdim tzefufim u'mishtachavim revachim.”**

They stood crowded together, yet when they bowed there was room (Avos 5:5).

The image itself is astonishing.

But Rav Chaim is cited as seeing a mussar lesson in it.

When a person is **omed**—standing tall in his own gaivah—life becomes *tzafuf*. Everything feels narrow.

There is never enough.

Not enough money.

Not enough room.

Not enough security.

But **mishtachavim**—when a person bows, when he accepts that he is not the master of everything—suddenly there is *revach*.

There is space.

I believe this is especially true in parnassah.

The more I insist that everything depends on me, the tighter life becomes.

The more I can say, “I will do what Hashem asks of me, and the result belongs to Him,” the more inner space I create.

Humility does not eliminate responsibility.

It eliminates the illusion of control.

## Hashem Blesses the Hishtadlus, Not the Ego

The Torah speaks about Hashem placing blessing in what a person **does**.

That distinction matters.

There is a healthy form of hishtadlus:

I have a responsibility.

I act.

I plan as necessary.

I use the abilities Hashem gave me.

But there is another attitude:

I had a brilliant idea.

I outsmarted everyone.

My plan is what made me successful.

That is already a different world.

The blessing is not in my ego.

The blessing is in the act that Hashem asked me to do.

A person can be very intelligent and fail in business.

Another can stumble into an opportunity he never could have designed.

We see this constantly.

Planning is part of action, but the plan does not become the Creator of the outcome.

That is the line I want to preserve:

**Do the hishtadlus seriously. Never worship the hishtadlus.**

## “HaGezeirah Emes V'HaCharitzus Sheker”

The Ramban gives us one of the strongest formulations in this entire sugya.

Yosef goes to seek his brothers, even though the situation is dangerous and their hatred is known.

Why did he go?

There are explanations connected to kibbud av.

But the Ramban teaches a broader yesod:

**“Melamed shehagezeirah emes v'hacharitzus sheker.”**

The Divine decree is real; human cleverness is false as an ultimate power.

That does not mean a person should act foolishly.

It means something much more fundamental:

When Hashem has determined an outcome, all of my calculations do not become an independent force capable of defeating His will.

I can be clever from today until tomorrow.

I can design the perfect plan.

But if Hashem's plan is different, my plan does not become a second god.

This is not an argument against intelligence.

It is an argument against confusing intelligence with control.

Remember those words:

**HaGezeirah emes. HaCharitzus sheker.**

## Yosef HaTzaddik: The Model of Parnassah

Yosef HaTzaddik is one of the clearest models in Torah for this yesod.

He goes to his brothers despite the danger. Human calculation would say: do not go.

Yet Hashem's plan is unfolding.

That is exactly the Ramban's point:

**HaGezeirah emes v'haCharitzus sheker.**

The outcome Hashem has ordained is real. My cleverness does not create a separate reality.

And who becomes the great provider of the world?

Yosef.

The man who was sold.

The prisoner.

The person who had no conventional path to power suddenly becomes the source of sustenance for an entire civilization.

That is why Yosef belongs in the sugya of parnassah.

His life is one long demonstration that the Ribbono Shel Olam can bring a person to his portion through paths no human being could have planned.

## “Biladai” — Yosef Refuses to Take Credit

There is a tefillah said in some Ashkenazic communities around Birchas Kohanim on Yom Tov asking Hashem for parnassah and chen, invoking Yosef HaTzaddik.

Why Yosef?

Because Yosef embodies parnassah that is unmistakably from Hashem.

He did not engineer his rise to power.

He did not design the sequence that brought him from the pit to Potiphar, from prison to Pharaoh, and from Pharaoh to control of Egypt.

And when Pharaoh finally turns to him for the interpretation of the dream, Yosef answers:

**“Biladai; Elokim ya'aneh es shlom Paroh.”**
“It is not from me; Hashem will answer Pharaoh” (Bereishis 41:16).

That word—**Biladai**—is the whole sugya.

I have abilities.

I must use them.

But the ability is not the Source.

The success is not mine to claim.

Yosef understood that even when the entire world was about to recognize his wisdom.

That is why he is the model for parnassah.

## This Shiur Is About the Source, Not the Exact Amount of Hishtadlus

The manna made the point visible.

During the week Klal Yisrael collected.

Before Shabbos they received double.

On Shabbos they did no collecting at all.

The lesson is not that a person never has to work.

The lesson is that **work is not the generator of the portion**.

At this point a person naturally asks a practical question:

What if I am drowning in bills?

What if my income does not cover my expenses?

Should I take another job?

Should I work more hours?

Those are serious questions.

But they belong to another sugya: **how much hishtadlus is appropriate for this person in this situation?**

That is not the question I am answering here.

Before we can discuss how much hishtadlus to do, we have to establish the hashkafah with which hishtadlus is done.

The medicine begins by knowing:

My effort is an obligation.

My parnassah is from Hashem.

## Do Not Confuse Hashkafah With a Personal Psak

A person can hear all of this and say:

But what about someone whose parnassah is genuinely difficult?

What about yissurim?

What about a person who has a particular tikkun?

Where exactly does he draw the line between bitachon and additional hishtadlus?

These are real questions.

But they are not answered by one slogan.

There is a broad sugya of hishtadlus, personal responsibility, financial reality, and individual circumstances.

I am not giving a personal psak here.

I am establishing the foundation that applies before all those calculations.

The Mishnah Berurah tells us what Parshas HaMan is meant to teach:

**Shekol mezonosav ba'im b'hashgachah pratis.**

My sustenance is under precise Divine providence.

Whatever practical hishtadlus I ultimately decide is proper, I have to carry it out inside that truth.

Otherwise, the hishtadlus becomes my religion.

And Parshas HaMan came to prevent exactly that.

## The First Lesson: Anavah

If you ask me for the first lesson to take from Parshas HaMan, I would say: **anavah**.

The worm in the manna becomes the image for the worm in the heart.

And what is that worm?

Gaivah.

In business, gaivah often takes a very specific form:

I think I am making the money.

I think I am successful because I am smarter.

I think my ideas are what create my parnassah.

Hashem certainly gives people different tools. One person has intelligence. Another has energy. Another has charm, timing, or opportunity.

Use the tools.

But never confuse the tool with the Source.

If I say, “Because I am clever, therefore I have parnassah,” I have already misunderstood what Hashem gave me.

The right statement is:

Hashem gave me this ability, and Hashem chose to send my parnassah through it.

That is a completely different way of living.

## When the Parnassah Comes to You

Chazal describe different people having different experiences collecting the manna.

For some, it came very close.

For others, more effort was required.

The image itself teaches something.

PARNASSAH can feel like something I must chase endlessly.

But the *man* showed Klal Yisrael another possibility:

Hashem can bring the portion to the person.

This does not mean that every tzaddik will literally find money at his front door.

It means that the relationship between effort and result is not mechanical.

More chasing does not automatically equal more receiving.

The purpose of the manna was to train Klal Yisrael to stop thinking of parnassah as something they independently manufacture.

You do what Hashem asks.

The portion comes from Him.

## Man Means Matanah

Rabbeinu Bachya is cited as explaining the word **man** in the language of **matanah**—a gift.

That is a beautiful definition of parnassah.

A gift is something I receive.

That does not mean I am passive.

It means that even after my effort, I understand the essential nature of what arrived:

**matanah.**

Hashem gave it.

The moment parnassah becomes something I believe I generated entirely on my own, I lose the ability to receive it as a gift.

And when I stop receiving it as a gift, I also stop appreciating it.

The *man* therefore taught two things at once:

bitachon and gratitude.

I do not own tomorrow.

I receive today.

And what I receive, I receive from Hashem.

## “Lechem Min HaShamayim”

The Midrash on Parshas HaMan dwells on the words:

**“Hineni mamtir lachem lechem min haShamayim”**—“I will rain down for you bread from heaven” (Shemos 16:4).

The Midrash brings other places where the Torah emphasizes **min haShamayim**.

Punishment can come from Shamayim.

Salvation can come from Shamayim.

Bread can come from Shamayim.

What is the point?

Hashem is not limited to one channel.

A human being needs different rooms, different systems, different stores for different products.

The Ribbono Shel Olam does not.

Everything comes from Him.

That phrase—**min haShamayim**—is not only describing where the manna physically appeared from.

It is teaching where parnassah comes from.

There is a Source above all the visible channels.

And the channel must never be confused with the Source.

## One Source for Everything

The Midrash makes a striking comparison.

Hashem brought fire upon Sedom **min haShamayim**.

Hashem brought stones upon the Emorim **min haShamayim**.

And Hashem brought the manna **min haShamayim**.

Why put all these different events into one pattern?

Because the Midrash is teaching us:

**“Kol asher chafetz Hashem asah.”**

Whatever Hashem wants, He can do.

We tend to divide the world into categories.

A storm feels like an “act of God.”

A miracle feels like an “act of God.”

But parnassah feels ordinary.

Salary.

Business.

Customers.

Markets.

The Midrash destroys that division.

The same Shamayim from which punishment can descend is the Shamayim from which bread comes.

The same Hashem Who controls extraordinary events controls what looks completely ordinary.

## Why Is Parnassah the One Thing We Think We Control?

Rav Shalom Schwadron used to tell a story about Rav Eliyahu Lopian.

A yeshiva bochur came to Rav Elya and said that he needed to leave yeshiva in order to begin preparing for the next stage of life.

Rav Elya asked him:

Who says you will live?

The bochur was shocked.

“Rebbe, why are you cursing me?”

Rav Elya answered: I am not cursing you. I am asking a question.

How do you know you will live?

Because Hashem gives life.

How do you know you will get married?

Hashem.

How will you have children?

Hashem.

And then somehow we arrive at parnassah and say:

**This one I have to do myself.**

That is the inconsistency.

If I already acknowledge that the most basic parts of existence are in Hashem's hands, why do I imagine that money alone operates independently?

This does not remove hishtadlus.

It removes the fiction that parnassah is the one area in which the Ribbono Shel Olam steps aside.

## Living According to the Level You Are Actually On

A person may still need savings.

A person may still need insurance.

A person may still need a responsible financial plan.

There are gedolim who have advised people accordingly.

Why?

Because bitachon is not pretending to be on a madreigah that I do not possess.

If my mind is filled with fear and I simply refuse normal responsibility while calling it bitachon, I may only be fooling myself.

But the need for practical responsibility should not hide the deeper question.

Why does money feel different?

I already live every day relying on Hashem for life, health, marriage, children, and a thousand things I cannot control.

Yet when it comes to parnassah, I suddenly feel that everything depends on me.

Parshas HaMan asks me to expose that inconsistency.

At my actual level, I should do the hishtadlus that is appropriate.

But while doing it, I should be moving toward the truth:

**Hashem is no less present in my parnassah than in the rest of my life.**

## “Min” Means It Comes From Somewhere

There is something beautiful in the word **min**.

What does *min* mean?

From.

From somewhere else.

The phrase itself teaches dependence.

**“Lechem min haShamayim.”**

Bread **from** Shamayim.

I do not generate it inside myself.

It arrives from a Source.

The Netziv is cited as noticing the unusual word order in the pasuk:

**“Hineni mamtir lachem lechem min haShamayim.”**

Grammatically, one might have expected the phrase to be arranged differently.

The Netziv explains that *lechem min haShamayim* describes the very type of bread.

This is not ordinary bread that happens to fall from heaven.

Its identity is **heavenly bread**.

That is the entire education of the manna.

Hashem wanted Klal Yisrael to eat a food whose very name reminded them:

Your sustenance comes **from somewhere**.

It comes from Me.

## Every Parnassah Is a Maaseh Nisim

The Chida discusses the manna as a **maaseh nisim**.

It was not ordinary bread.

It did not grow from a field.

It did not come through the normal chain of plowing, planting, harvesting, grinding, kneading, and baking.

It came from Shamayim.

But I believe the lesson is not that manna was miraculous while ordinary bread is not.

The manna came to reveal that **every bread is ultimately a miracle**.

The ordinary process hides Hashem behind layers of nature.

The manna removed the layers.

Klal Yisrael could finally see what is always true:

Food exists because Hashem provides it.

Parnassah exists because Hashem provides it.

The miracle of the manna was not creating a new reality.

It was exposing the reality that is usually hidden.

## Do Not Let the Channel Hide the Source

Modern parnassah can look extremely complicated.

A person travels.

He negotiates.

He imports.

He sells.

He builds networks.

The chain becomes so long that the Ribbono Shel Olam disappears behind the machinery.

That is exactly why the manna matters.

**“Hineni mamtir lachem lechem min haShamayim.”**

Hashem says: I am going to teach you where bread really comes from.

Not only this bread.

Bread.

PARNASSAH.

Life.

The entire visible process may be different generations later, but the source has not changed.

When the channel becomes sophisticated, I need even more emunah—not less.

Otherwise I begin worshipping the channel.

## “K'Zera Gad” — Mazal and Giving

The Torah describes the manna as **“k'zera gad.”**

What is *gad*?

The Degel Machaneh Ephraim is cited with a beautiful association.

Gad can relate to **mazal**. We find the language of *gad* connected with good fortune.

Chazal say that **banim, chayei, u'mezonei** are bound up with mazal.

In other words, not everything in life follows a simple visible equation.

There are deeper heavenly calculations.

But there is another way to hear the letters *gimel-daled*:

**gomel dalim**—one who gives to the poor.

That immediately brings tzedakah into the sugya of parnassah.

A person thinks: if money is scarce, the last thing I can afford is to give it away.

Torah introduces another logic.

The money itself came from Hashem.

And one of the greatest ways to show that I know where it came from is to become a giver.

PARNASSAH is not only about receiving.

It is also about what I become with what I receive.

## What Is Yours Is Already Yours

The Targum Yonasan ben Uziel is cited as saying that this bread was **shamur misheshes yemei Bereishis**—prepared from the six days of Creation.

Why emphasize that?

I want to suggest a profound lesson.

A person says:

I lost the deal.

Someone took my opportunity.

Someone else got what should have been mine.

Parshas HaMan says:

What is truly yours is already **shamur lecha**.

It is designated for you.

The Torah says:

**“Hineni mamtir lachem.”**

For you.

The Mechilta is cited as emphasizing that the portion was specifically designated for those receiving it.

What belongs to you cannot become someone else's because he pushed harder.

And what belongs to someone else cannot truly become yours through jealousy or manipulation.

That realization changes business entirely.

I still compete.

I still act.

But I no longer have to live with the terror that another human being can steal the portion Hashem designated for me.

## “Dvar Yom B'Yomo” — Every Day Has Its Portion

The Torah says the manna came **“dvar yom b'yomo”**—the matter of each day in its day (Shemos 16:4).

Why not simply say *kol yom*—every day?

The Pri Tzadik is cited as seeing a deeper idea in the phrase.

Every day has its own **shefa**.

Every day has its own portion.

Every day has what belongs to that day.

That means I cannot live as though today's anxiety has the power to create tomorrow's allotment.

Tomorrow has its own *dvar yom*.

Of course I prepare responsibly.

But if I believe that by overworking today I can manufacture a portion Hashem did not designate for tomorrow, I have returned to the same mistake.

The manna taught Klal Yisrael to live one day at a time before Hashem.

Not recklessly.

Not irresponsibly.

But without turning the future into an idol.

## Ke'ilu Melachtecha Asuyah

Shabbos gives us the clearest weekly exercise in this entire hashkafah.

Chazal teach that when Shabbos comes, a person should view his work as though it is complete:

**ke'ilu melachtecha asuyah.**

Why?

Because Shabbos is not merely a day when I happen not to work.

It trains my mind to say:

The world will continue without me.

My business will continue without me.

The Ribbono Shel Olam is not waiting for me to keep creation alive.

For six days I do my hishtadlus.

Then Shabbos comes and says:

Put it down.

As far as you are concerned, the work is done.

I want to carry a little of that consciousness back into the week.

I go to work seriously.

But inwardly I know:

I am not going to **create** my portion.

I am going to do the act Hashem assigned me through which I will receive the portion He sends.

## Do Not Merely Read Parshas HaMan—Learn It

This is what I want you to do when you come to Parshas HaMan.

Do not merely read it.

**Learn it.**

The goal is not to finish the words and then ask, “Where is my money?”

The goal is to absorb the lessons.

Emunah.

Bitachon.

Anavah.

Hashgachah pratis.

The knowledge that Hashem gives a person what he needs.

There are other practices Chazal connect with parnassah as well. The Sefer HaChinuch is cited regarding the importance and blessing associated with Birkat HaMazon—benching properly and recognizing the One Who fed you.

Again, the theme is recognition.

The Yerushalmi does not promise that saying Parshas HaMan will buy me luxuries.

It speaks about mezonos not being diminished.

What I **need**, not everything I **want**.

If I learn that distinction, I have already become wealthier in a much deeper sense.

## The Curse Is Not Work—It Is Living in Constant Anxiety

If I never learn this, I will suffer even when I have money.

Because there will always be more to secure.

More to earn.

More to buy.

More to protect.

That itself becomes a klalah.

Life begins to feel like one endless burden.

But difficulty is not the same thing as misery.

Imagine a baseball player who says, “I want life to be easy. Put me in a children's league where every pitch is simple.”

Would that make him happy?

No.

He wants to play in the majors.

The difficulty is part of the significance.

The same is true of work and family.

A person can put tremendous effort into cooking a meal that will be eaten in minutes and still enjoy the preparation because she experiences it as her role, her giving, her love.

The work becomes different when the meaning becomes different.

Parnassah also changes when I stop seeing it as the desperate production of my own survival and begin seeing it as the tafkid through which Hashem wants me to act.

## If It Is a Gift, I Appreciate Every Penny

I once told you the story of the Alter of Slabodka standing at his door on Friday night before entering the house.

His family wondered what lofty thought occupied him.

He explained that he was thinking through all the effort his wife had invested in preparing the Shabbos meal.

He could eat the meal in minutes.

But it had taken hours of work to create.

If he did not stop and think, he might consume the gift without appreciating the giver.

That is the entire point of Parshas HaMan.

If I believe my money is simply the automatic product of my labor, I stop receiving it as a gift.

But if I know **lechem min haShamayim**, every dollar becomes something I can appreciate.

This also helps explain Yaakov Avinu's concern for **pachim ketanim**, the small possessions he returned to retrieve.

Why care so much about something small?

Because when an object is a gift from Hashem, “small” is no longer meaningless.

A person who sees matanah learns to value what he has.

## “Hashem Gave Me This Watch”

My father once told me a story about my grandfather.

Someone saw that he had a beautiful new watch and asked:

“Where did you get it?”

My grandfather answered:

“I received it as a present.”

The person naturally asked:

“Who gave it to you?”

My grandfather answered:

**“Hashem gave it to me.”**

That is Parshas HaMan in one sentence.

Of course there may have been a human being who handed him the watch.

But my grandfather saw beyond the messenger.

He saw the Giver.

That way of thinking changes the entire experience of life.

If life is matanah, then even the challenges are part of a received life.

I may not understand everything.

I may struggle.

But I am no longer living inside the fantasy that I must construct existence alone.

I am receiving.

And a person who knows he is receiving can become grateful instead of perpetually terrified.

## You Are a Passenger

Let me end with a simple mashal.

A person boards an airplane.

Does he sit in his seat calculating whether there is enough fuel?

Does he monitor the engines?

Does he direct the route?

Normally, no.

Why?

Because he understands his role.

He is a passenger.

That does not mean he is careless. He chose the flight. He arrived at the airport. He followed instructions.

But once he is on the plane, he does not pretend to be the pilot.

That is what **lechem min haShamayim** is trying to teach me.

I have a role.

I have hishtadlus.

I have responsibility.

But I am not running the world.

I am a passenger in the Ribbono Shel Olam's world.

So do what you are supposed to do.

And stop carrying the burden of believing that everything depends on you.

**Baruch Hashem l'olam, amen v'amen.**