When will they take notice of me above?

Interpersonal relationships are of the most intricate of the many facets of life. Much takes place in this delicate area, yet behind everything stands mainly the question of “how am I related to.” More than anything that one can receive from his fellow man, one is most in need of the simple feeling that ‘I am needed’ and that ‘I am taken notice of’.

A person seeks only one thing – that others relate to him. Many are the ways that people find to attain this, whether explicitly or indirectly, through hints or outright verbally; whatever it takes to get a dose of this most essential vitamin – some attention.

The first of the believers

Ur-Kassdim – the cradle of foolish beliefs and idol worship. Terach, Nimrod and the masses of worshipers; some found a mighty deity in the form of a clump of clay, others identified the creator with a statute carved of wood. Nature’s forces, the stars and constellations, illusions and warped traditions; each man chose his faith as he pleased. Amidst this darkness wandered one small child who was simply not satisfied and asked again and again: “who created all this?”

The first of our forefathers, Avraham Avinu, recognized his creator at the age of three. He searched, contemplated and investigated until he was able to declare with clarity: “this is it!” Initially, the creation had shown no hint of an answer to his question, nothing seemed to indicate the existence of The Creator, of His will and His providence, yet the more he searched, the more The Creator revealed Himself to him. The veil of concealment gradually faded, the false beliefs began to crumble and emunah began to shine forth in the world.

Avraham had no tradition from his ancestors, no leader and no guide. He embarked on his path completely alone and prepared the way for the rest of the world. He taught da’as (holy intellect) and emunah to the masses and brought thousands under the shelter of the shechinah (divine presence). Torah had not yet descended into the world, neither had the mitzvos, yet nevertheless his entire life was one complete succession of d’veikus (cleaving to Hashem). Day after day, night after night, through winter and summer, ups and downs, challenges and opposition; how did Avraham endure all this, around what was his wondrous connection with the creator woven?

Yearning – this is the secret.

Avraham Avinu was the first one to bring knowledge of Hashem to the world. It is he who brought down the first strand that connects the created to The Creator and his whole life was just one long endless desire – to know Hashem.

At the beginning of any book one can find an introduction that outlines the purpose for which it was authored and in essence gives the reader “the bottom line”. The Torah too, has an introduction. Before the Torah describes 613 mitzvos, the positive and negative commandments, it precedes them with the purpose; the main point and intention that is meant to result from fulfilling all that follows.

Avraham Avinu is the introduction. If you desire to know what the focal point of the fulfillment of the Torah is, take a look at our first forefather; on what hinge did the life of the father of our nation revolve, around what where all his thoughts, words and actions centered?

Avraham Avinu directed his entire life to The Creator, even the minutest motion, thought or action was carefully weighed on the scale of: “I place Hashem before me always” (Tehillim). At every possible moment the desire to know Hashem burned inside him and no perception that he attained could quench his soul’s endless thirst. With ten tests did The Creator test his dedication and sincerity, and he stood up to them all with his clear and wondrous conviction of Hashem’s presence.

The first of the circumcised

How does one merit to such an awakened soul? – we all ask ourselves. The drowsiness that envelopes our senses almost constantly transforms our lives into something dark and heavy, how can we be freed from it? The soul is meant to be naturally aflame with passion for every holy thing, if one would know how much he is wanted above, how much they anticipate every truthful thought on his part and how much weight just one word of truth carries, his legs would take him of their own from the shul to the Beis Medrash, from there to the fields and back in a never ending cycle. Yet our blind eyes see nothing of all this.

Sins, transgressions and iniquities are what form this barrier; they do not allow a person to receive that most essential sustenance – to be related to from above.  The most desired feeling, the deep sense of “The Creator needs me”, is generally buried beneath a thick layer of wrongdoings and the like.

Avraham Avinu was the first of the creation to identify emunah from within the world of physicality; he achieved this through the bris mila (circumcision). The arlah (foreskin) is the barrier that overshadows the senses and does not allow them to perceive anything beyond dark fantasies of evil. When the arlah is removed the soul is aroused to life. The first of the believers was also the first of the circumcised; he was the first man who was sensible enough to remove the barriers of evil.

Lech Lecha – Go to yourself.

Through yearning and desire, searching and request, Klal Yisroel was born. The yearning that burned inside Avraham Avinu is to be found by way of inheritance inside each one of us. This together with the recognition of Hashem’s existence he passed on to us. Inside every one of us is an awakened soul that is full of desire and searching. We need just remove from upon it the layers of arlah, of forgetfulness and tiredness. The ability for this too we inherited. Every tiny drop of arlah that is removed, every piece of evil, of sadness, of illusion and bewilderment that we cast off, reveals in the heart another hint of spiritual alertness.

Everyone has a soul, everyone has desire and yearning, we need just go there – to ourselves. Nothing can prevent the searching soul from attaining its desire. We must cast aside all that seems imperative, unchangeable or “a part of me” and simply get going.

“Lech Lecha” – is said to each one of us: leave aside all the calculations and fears, the heaviness and depression that are rooted in “ארצך” (your land); the corporeality of the element of earth. Leave a little “מולדתך” (your birth place); the negative character traits and natural tendencies that seem to be an inheritance that threatens to accompany us throughout our lives. Abandon somewhat your “בית אביך” (father’s house); the negative influences and philosophies of your surroundings. Go forth towards your soul’s desire, to where you truly yearn to be.

To this place you will be accompanied by your nekudos toivos (good points), by emunah, bitachon and the ancient call of “lech lecha”.  For to your root only you can go, in the light of Hashem’s hashgacha (Divine providence).

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Keeping the Flame Alive

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The world is constantly progressing. Our small globe is filled with novelties; at every possible moment new innovations are being discovered. What was considered yesterday a novelty, is today regarded an antique. Everything around us is developing; the potential is being actualized at a dizzying pace, and in the center of it all is none other than man himself.

Behind every innovation could be found a number of scientists who toiled months on end to bring it to fruition. Refined materials, advanced medications and more efficient technology appear out of nowhere, being the result of the many stages of a living process of creation.  The human population is constantly in motion. Just taking a look out the window for a moment will portray a picture bustling with motion –  people moving about non-stop. This one is running, that one is walking, one person is conversing with his mouth and the other is signaling with his hands. The one thing they all have in common is that something is beating inside them.

Enthusiasm is the driving force behind everything

If something is in motion then there must be something causing it to move. A boat gliding upon the ocean waters bears testimony to a wind blowing through its sails, an illuminated light bulb attests to electricity flowing through its wire and if you find a person vigorously active and energetic then there is no doubt  something excites him. People do all sorts of things, they build and destroy, they dream and contemplate, they create and invent.  Behind all of these stands one thing – Hislahavus (enthusiasm/liveliness).

Both man and the world itself are rooted in the element of earth and were it not for the life force of enthusiasm that was placed inside man, he would seem like nothing more than a mound of earth protruding from the ground. This world is heavy, it is not easy to get things moving, and in order to give a life-like form to a clump of dirt, one needs much hislahavus.

If this hislahavus is fundamental to mankind so too, it must be regarding the world at large. The world was formed with the Ten Sayings of Creation (asarah maamaros) and it is also through them that it continues to exist. The holy Torah preceded the world and with it, Hashem created the world. The world revolves constantly around an axis, developing and progressing, and the wind that blows in its sails is – the Torah.

Man in his physical essence is nothing but the dust of the earth and at certain times he returns to this definition. When Hashem sent the soul into partnership with the body he prepared for it much work to be done.

The world is filled with challenges – good and evil are found in every corner and it is imperative to be awake and alert.  The Torah does not only provide us with clear definitions of good and evil, it also bestows upon us the strength and ability to stand up to the challenge of free will (bechirah).

The Giving of the Torah – the strength to choose good over evil.

Not long ago – so the calendar claims, was the Chag of the giving of the Torah and seemingly we received something. Yes, we received the Torah, a completely new Torah, the likes of which has never before appeared. During the coming yearly cycle that stands before us, we will find ourselves upon many battlefields in which both good and evil will be found, and we will need to always choose the good. The Torah that we now have in our hands contains all the strength required by the soul in order to pass through the coming cycle peacefully.

Within the words of the Torah is contained an incredible energy – all the strengths and abilities in existence draw their life-force from the letters of the Torah. Every Jew has a part in the Torah and this part is meant to be the driving force of his 248 limbs and 365 sinews, to instill in them the ability to properly navigate his way amidst the 248 positive and 365 negative commandments.

All of us, all the good Jews who have been living on the face of the earth in the last two weeks, were all at Har Sinai. We stood at the foot of the mountain as Moshe brought the Torah down from the heavens; we received it ready packed and all, set to take home. The days after Shavuos flew by and we are still wandering around somewhere on the pathways that leave Har Sinai, stepping from one day to the next, from Shacharis to Minchah to Maariv, and in our hands remains a sealed package.

The precious package that we received on the sixth of Sivan is held close to our hearts. We clasp it tightly with both hands, careful not to lose it, G-d forbid. The Torah accompanies us wherever we go and sometimes we even take a small peek at it through a narrow crack, nod our heads and continue along our way.

Let’s be honest, we’re not new at this. Every year we travel this path always arriving in the vicinity of Har Sinai somewhere around the beginning of Sivan, always receiving the Torah in some way. So what? This is nothing new.  Our family always spoke about this, our friends are well accustomed to this luxury, we have the Torah in our hands, we don’t need to arrange for quality-control testing. We would never suspect that Moshe would hand us an empty package – we trust him…

Hashem does something very unusual every year. He opens the most top-secret vault there is in existence, where the plans on which the entire creation was created and formed, are hidden.  Those G-dly codes which Hashem used as the blueprint for the world contain within them the driving force for all that took place in the past and all that will occur in the future. From that G-dly framework which is called – the Torah, emerge all the innovations that Hashem creates in His world spiritually and physically at every moment.

Every year on the sixth of Sivan Hashem withdraws the G-dly plans for all that will transpire in the coming year. It is this code that He sends down into the world and bestows upon each and every one of us his part in the plan.

When the thundering sounds were silenced and the lightening ceased, we took our three steps back, bowed with awe in the direction of the mountain and began our journey home. Shavuos moved into yesterday and we continued towards tomorrow. We move forward, yet a watchful eye follows us from behind. He, who gave us that which we have in our hands, knows that the moment we open the package we will begin to move with dance-like steps.

A person makes his way along the trails of life and upon his path are heaps of tests, difficulties and obstacles. He huffs and puffs with exertion thinking to himself: ‘how difficult could they possibly make it for a person. Isn’t there some mistake here – this is a trail for professional hikers, not for me…’. Not only is the terrain extremely strenuous, but the package from Har Sinai is adding to the unbearable burden.  Then perhaps the time has come to open the package, to simply begin to make use of what it holds inside.

The Torah is meant to ignite us; this is exactly why we received it. The heart experiences the world as it is. It is the heart which feels all that happens around us and it is there that the true ability to cope must be found. Above, at the top of the spinal cord, is the mind. It functions exactly like a power station; G-dly life-force enters the brain and sets the cogs of thought in motion. When holy thoughts fill the mind then it generates heat; chochmah (wisdom) is something warm and filled with vitality. This warmth descends to the heart and ignites it. A warm and enthusiastic heart skips easily over the pitfalls of life. When the mind is filled with sanctity the vision of life that the eye perceives is far less frightening.

The Rebbe speaks about this in Likutey Moharan lesson 21, explaining that the power of the Torah is hidden within its words – when one enunciates them vocally, they take effect. Since the kedusha is already found within the words, one doesn’t have to do much, as everything is hidden inside that which we already have in our hands. All we need to do is open it and begin to make use of what’s inside.

The Kedusha of the shivah neiros (seven candles)

Every Jew desires to run through the course of life without becoming stuck at confusing and unclear crossroads. When the engine is warm the wheels manage easily on every terrain, uphill just like downhill, a sharp turn just like a straight road. Anyone who has ever come into contact with the Torah knows this. When one sinks for a few hours into the reservoir of life within the letters, then when one emerges everything looks different. The problem is that something else needs to be taken into account.

There are seven orifices in the heads: Two for the sense of sight, another two for hearing, two more for scent and another one for speech.  These seven openings connect us with our surroundings; they absorb and also transmit information.  These seven orifices are like the seven branches of the Menorah and when they are complete they enable the flame to burn strongly. The world is filled with winds that threaten to extinguish the candles; sometimes such a wind blows in one’s ears or one’s eyes and the candle of holy intellect that burns inside flickers in a desperate attempt to stay alight.

When we guard our senses whereby candles are lit at the entrance to these seven openings, then the evil outside is burnt and destroyed in an instant.  But when the wind extinguishes these candles then things start becoming complicated.

We have a Torah, it is already in our hands, we need only to remove the cover and begin to read aloud. The words will light the wicks on fire and if we allow the holy words to rest on our lips, it will happen on its own.

Not every wind needs to visit our ears, our eyes, our nose and our mouth … all that remains for us to do is to pay some attention …

“Raise your Head and be counted” ”

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A person is searching for himself – this is perhaps how we can define the exploration that centers on the essence of our being which is many times left as the unidentifiable –“me”. A person seeks to weave an identity around his being, to see himself defined as someone. A person has many descriptive titles. Here one is a father and there a friend, in one place a worker and in another, a manager. A job, more than it serves to save from the pangs of hunger, is intended to bestow upon a person some title, that he should not G-d forbid, remain lacking a definition.

A person is searching for himself, requesting of all those who pass by: “perhaps you know who I am?”

One lifts his eyes to his fellow men hoping that someone will place him somewhere.

One will not find a business today, large or small, which does not have at least as many positions as it does employees. If ten laborers are found working around the production line, it is reasonable to assume that there are twelve different job titles amongst them. Not to mention the managerial positions where one could discover three of four titles on the business card of one single person.

Indeed, the managers, investors and owners know well how to squeeze out the best performance from each individual.

An old army saying tells that “a soldier without a uniform is not a soldier”. In truth it is hard to understand what’s so important about a unified outfit, a soldier seemingly is more in need of muscles, fitness and survival instincts. Clothing? What place do garments have with a fighter?

This policy does not end on the doorstep of prestigious professions. Today, even cleaners are defined within the pyramid of authority – Head of sanitation, second in charge, kitchen manager, department manager etc. Every task is accompanied by its label, each job has its name and each person carries his title, and sometimes more than one. This procedure does not only serve to ensure that the world functions in an orderly fashion but also brings order to a person himself, to define his place in it all. It is from this place that a person draws his strength and ability to function; if a person has a place, then he also possesses ability.
A person wonders about in Hashem’s world, his spirit bewildered and his mind even more so. His thoughts are filled with the things that necessity demands to be completed and taken care of. He trudges along with droopy shoulders and his hands lagging at his sides – his entire being is screaming: “where am I in this world?” The opportunities pass right by him yet he doesn’t bother to reach out for them, to catch a ride on one of them. He has neither the strength nor the sense; he doesn’t know where to start.

In fact, perhaps it is worthwhile to start from the very beginning…

As mentioned, the world in which we find ourselves is Hashem’s world and He created it lichvo’do (for his glory/honor). This means that the purpose of the world is that Hashem’s name be elevated, exalted and glorified through every part of mineral, vegetable, animal and human life forms. The entire universe throws itself at the feet of a Jew, beseeching and imploring that he bring it to its ultimate perfection. The Jew – is the only one out of infinite creations who is able to unify all that takes place here with the Creator, blessed be He. If his actions will cause the world to reveal Hashem’s glory, at that moment the entire creation becomes a Beis Hamikdash – a place for Hashem.

This goal is tremendously vast; it spans the expanses of time, from the sin of Adam HaRishon until the summation of the six thousand years. All the creations and formations are active partners in this assignment. However, only Am Yisroel are able to cause all of these creations to effect something meaningful for the sake of this purpose.

Every Jew has a mission, even many of them. Sometimes he stands up to the task, and sometimes not entirely. Success and failure are measured in proportion. For example, yesterday a certain portion of what I did was for the ultimate purpose, the other parts were spent sunken in my own selfness. Today I merited investing more of myself in the true goal, how wonderful!
If each Jew has his own personal mission, then Klal Yisroel as a whole are constantly fulfilling one long and complex mission. This mission we received at Mattan Torah (the giving of the Torah). At that awesome and monumental event, the mission descended in its entirety and was subdivided into fine details, each soul receiving its unique part.

The journeys of Am Yisroel in the desert were a synopsis of the thousands of journeys that they would endure in the future. Each Jew has his own journey and all of them are included in those forty two ancient journeys. This week we began the Chumash of Bamidbar, in it will unfold all that happened to us during those journeys, mainly the failures. In the next few weeks we will hear about Korach, the spies and the mey merivah (waters of strife); we will see time and again the mission slipping out from our fingers and the journey in the desert winding itself around in circles – as if the path we are traveling does not lead anywhere.
Sometimes our personal route also seems dizzying. A person walks along his life’s path asking ‘am I fulfilling any mission at all…’ This mission is something frighteningly evasive, one moment you felt it clearly in your hands, and the next, it’s gone. In general, the natural conclusion is – that’s it, I’m out, maybe I’ll wait for the next round…

Therefore, at the threshold to Chumash Bamidbar the Torah hands us something very important – a counting. Yes, before we enter the battle field we take a full census. That census, that took place in the desert, gathered all the souls into the realm of holiness. A number means that you are a part of a whole – you are not just a ‘lone wolf’, you are a piece in a gigantic puzzle. The whole brings completion to the part and the part brings completion to the whole. The counting bestows upon each person his unique place – you have something that no one else has and with this you are constantly a part of something enormous that is continuously functioning, something that is conquering and succeeding. If you dozed off for a moment or slept for an entire year, you still have not been discharged from the system. Klal Yisroel is constantly functioning, the mission is not conditional, it is a reality and you are a part of it.
This mission, with all its compartments and sections, carved in the desert sand a meaningful picture. Am Yisorel took on the form of the heavenly legions. The banners (degallim) and the camps that were arranged with such precision were an expression of a divine form. So it is taught in the Holy Books, that the order of the degallim and the camps mirrored the order of the camps of the angels. When Klal Yisroel camp or walk in the desert in a G-dly formation then the glory of Hashem is openly revealed upon them.

Generally, when we walk through the deserts of life, the sands cover over the beauty of the mission; it is not always that we have the opportunity to see clearly the heavenly Chariot of which we are a part. This is what happens to us on a regular afternoon when suddenly the desert closes in on us, isolates us and leaves us behind. It is then that it seems as if nothing ever was and that nothing will ever be. I was never anything special and I never will be.
Specifically because of this, the Sefer of Bamidbar opens with Parshas Naso. The opening words of the Pasha: “Naso es rosh” literally mean “lift the head” – this is exactly what we need. In order to gasp a fresh breath of air we must lift our heads, become uplifted and see the journey from a bird’s eye view. It is through being counted that we can take flight. The number makes us a part of the whole and nevertheless leaves us our uniqueness as a part. When the soul receives the title that is unique to it, its garment and its vessel for the light, then it is able to lift its head and see the vision of The Chariot. It can then understand that truthfully it is a part of Hashem’s legions. It is a vehicle for the revelation of Hashem in the world.

This is the power of the counting. It can infuse the power of the whole into the part. The uniforms, for example, bestow upon a single soldier the awesome strength of an entire army – with regular clothes he is just another person. The uniform transforms him into a piece of an army. For this reason everyone is so obsessed with titles. If someone asks you who you are, tell them with certainty what your task is. This is who I am, this is me.

We have come down from Har Sinai, from the sanctity of Shavu’os. Each person holds in his hands a Torah, signed and sealed. Small people look at the wrapped gift in their hands with confusion and bewilderment: ‘what is inside this gift. Is it possible that something meaningful will take place with me?’
The scorching summer that follows the sixth of Sivan is the place. It is here that our mission will take place. In this arena the wrapped gift will materialize into a reality, our own personal and unique mission is intertwined with the unique part of the Torah that we received at Har Sinai. This mission is our place in the heavenly Chariot. Through this part Hashem will be revealed this coming year.

From here forth there is no room for confusion or despair. The Torah is already in our hands; our part in the perpetual system will not be changed no matter what. Whether we want or not, we are here, on the inside. Each one of us has an exact place and number. The wheels of the Chariot of the Shechinah (Divine Presence) have begun to turn and we are already in the heat of the mission, at the very moment that we are reading these lines and right now we are wanted here. Onwards…

“The Power of Rashbi”

As long as he can remember, he has seen them standing alert and at attention, appearing to him like iron statues. He was a child and they were adults and one question filled his entire world – how do they do it? Where do they get the strength from, to stand for so many hours, to march back and forth, to run and to train. Do they never tire? It seemed as if the pangs of exhaustion had been forever banished from their eyes.

As he grew and developed into a young man, so too did his question sprout and evolve, taking on a new form and deepening its roots. Now he understood, that in truth these people have nothing else in their worlds – neither family nor friends. Their lives revolve around one thing only, it is called in their words “His Majesty”. He is a servant boy and not a minister nor a soldier. These people seem so way above his perception – how can he possibly understand them?

Then, one day it happened, he understood. No one knows how his legs found their way to the threshold of the splendid room. In any event, he was there, and even the door itself came to his aid. The small gap between the slightly open door and its frame revealed to him the entire secret. The vision lasted only a few moments, until the door was shut tightly, but for him it was enough to last the rest of his life. He will never forget the look in the eyes of those strong and usually stoic men. The king’s face he did not see, but their faces he surely did, and what he perceived in their glowing eyes had never before appeared in the thousands of pairs of eyes he had glanced at in the past.

The mystery no longer bothered him.  If such a thing exists, if his eyes too would ever perceive whatever otherworldly thing they saw, then sleep would surely never find its place in them either. Of this he has no doubt.  ■

How can it be that as we enter the heart of the scorching summer, amidst the days of the Sefirah, when we have just taken leave of the month of Nissan and set foot upon the highway that escalates all the way to the chag of Shavu’os, that suddenly we find in the torah portion – Yom Ha’Kippurim. It is quite startling to abruptly find the holiest day of the year six months after we left it behind together with the days of Rosh Hashanah and Sukkos.

If we have already begun with the topic of time periods and dates, we discover that we always, for some reason, read the parsha of Acharei Mos – Kedoshim somewhere in the vicinity of Lag B’Omer and the Hillulas Rashbi (The Yartzheit of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai). Presumably there is some deeper meaning in this…

All of us, we can safely assume, count the Sefiras Ha’Omer each night. The Sefirah is not merely a bracha and short sentence said in addition to Ma’ariv, it holds a very important, even essential role, so much so that these days have even warranted their very own name and have been crowned with the title “Yimei Ha’Sfirah” (The days of the counting), meaning – days which their very chiyus (life-force) is drawn from the mitzvos of the Sefiras Ha’Omer. What is it that we say in the prayer before the counting ‘Ribboino Shel Olam… (Master of the Universe…)’ that makes every bachur with a heart scream with all his strength, ‘…May we be purified and sanctified’, yes, we are simply requesting exactly this, purity and holiness.

When we were young we also screamed out: ‘today’, maybe at the beginning, around where we say ‘one day’ or ‘two days’, but when we continue to: ‘…… which are one week’, many voices fade out. Honestly, how much can we push ourselves; and just between us, why should we scream out so intensely, what are we missing in life, what’s the big commotion about? Did something happen on Pesach that we have some urgent need to be purified? Were we not okay until now? What was, still is, a wonderful Jewish life; there is no doubt that there are things that need to be rectified, but what’s the big rush? Why does it specifically need to be “be’kedushah shel ma’alah (with heavenly holiness)”, can we not be satisfied with simple, good and flowing Judaism … as it has been until today?

It’s true that we have heard of great people who live in a different atmosphere, we have even seen them at various opportunities. We followed them with staring eyes, and a subtle desire was sparked in the depths of our hearts. ‘Ahh…this is what I would have wanted, to serve Hashem with my entire being and with such passion. It is wondrous to live with an inseparable connection to something so very alive, to invest all one’s capabilities and effort for someone whom one would sacrifice everything for. To approach tefillah without thinking about what one will be doing after he concludes “Oseh Shalom…”, to sink into the words and to forget all of existence.

But then we caught ourselves: ‘Oops, don’t get swept away, take a step back, you’re not built for that’. Since then those holy people have remained in a golden frame on the wall. They even hold an honored place in our hearts. We respect them and their ways –  perhaps in our next gilgul (reincarnation) we’ll try too…

This feeling returns when the first sentence of Parshas Kedoshim appears from amidst the torah reading: “…be holy…”. With Rashi’s explanation (that we should stay clear of sin) we can manage, but when we see the Rambam’s explanation: ‘be holy in that which is permissible to you’, things get a little more complicated. How is it even possible? I’m not there; I have a home, a family, work and a life. How could I ever do it?

One moment, someone already dealt with this, he was called Rebbi Shimon Bar Yochai, yes, the one from the holy Zohar. He screamed out and exclaimed: “it (the torah) will not be forgotten from the mouths of his offspring” – the Sefer Ha’Zohar is the surety for this. By inference we understand what would happen without it, Rebbi Shimon told us something new, something that no one else could say, and the others were no simpletons, they were holy Tana’im. The Gemorah tells us about the sages who sat in a vineyard in Yavneh evaluating the situation, and they came to the conclusion that within a few generations, the Torah would become forgotten in a world without the Beis Hamikdash. Rebbi Shimon was very young at the time; he was only “a certain student”.  Yet a few years later, on a separate occasion, he declared that without that which he revealed, the Torah truly would be forgotten – but that after the Zohar had come into the world this would not happen – “for it will not be forgotten from his offspring” (in Hebrew the last letters of this verse spell ‘Yochai’, see the introduction to Likutey Moharan).

But why prophesize such a dark and gloomy future in the fist place? Why were the Tana’im in Yavneh so worried. Are we little children, can we not manage on our own? Look at what we have achieved; there was never a generation in which there were so many holy books in so many splendid editions. When in all of history were there so many learned people in Klal Yisroel. Today every child can deliver a most impressive Dvar Torah. There are even computer programs for accelerated Torah learning and one can get smichah by correspondence. What’s so bad? We’re managing just fine. We can relax.

Yes, it’s true, there is no need to worry – with regard to this no one has any problems, the holy Tana’im knew very well how smart and intelligent we would be in the future, they were not concerned that we would forget or loose information … we can even make a ‘backup’. They were alarmed about a much more dangerous situation, in which the Sefer Torah has long since disappeared and all that remains is the beautiful cover that can be embraced with the arms. They prophesized of a situation in which it is possible to preach and expound the laws of Shabbos and to completely forget that it IS Shabbos today.

They worried about a Judaism that can be intellectually explained but that is empty of fiery Emunah. They worried about a splendid Esrog that costs a fortune yet its owner has a heart that is cold and apathetic, together with a mind that is elsewhere. They knew that only a Beis Hamikdash is what can bring the soul of a Jew to dwell in his body. From there, where the Shechina (Divine Presence) dwelled in a structure made of stone, were sent forth veins of life to the heart of every Jew. It was these that fixed in their minds and hearts the living Zicharon (memory/awareness) and vitality of the Torah. Without the Beis Hamikdash where could this awareness possibly come from?

Rashbi, in his tremendous holiness and tremendously powerful soul, knew something else. He knew that there is a Tzaddik that is so great, that the very Beis Hamikdash itself draws its holiness from Him and that a Tzaddik of this caliber is able to guarantee that indeed, the Torah will not be forgotten. For he already prepared a solution to the problem, he built an ark that can save us from the flood – it is called the ‘Zohar’ and all who have even the slightest contact with it, immediately remember.

This is also what the torah reading does to us; it is not for nothing that they sent us, in the heat of the summer, a pure breeze of Yom Ha-Kippurim. When the soul is absorbed into the scent of Kedusha and Tahara (purity), when a person finds himself, even for a few moments, in the king’s chamber; when he sees, feels and tastes the sweetness of forgiveness and pardon, when he receives a smile that radiates nothing but love and closeness, then he begins to understand how it is possible to enter into a life of Kedusha. For he who sees the face of the king –  even once a year – and is therefore able to toil three hundred and sixty four days without fatigue and tiredness, to bear the ‘burden’ of the taryag (613) mitzvos and to cling constantly to the holy Emunah.

We count the days every evening and remember that I too left Mitzrayim. I am not just some unholy Jew – I am something else entirely. We also remember that the Mitzvos do have an effect on us, the Torah makes us holy, and it is not something dead but rather entirely alive.

Then, in the middle of the days of the Omer we ascend together to Meiron, to the place from where this awareness is spread across the entire globe. This celebration that casts aside even the most stringent customs of mourning, reminds us that Judaism takes form around the ‘living’ Tzaddikim. It reminds us that even in a world of forgetfulness and confusion, there is a Beis HaMikdash – a true Tzaddik who’s teachings are in our midst.

One need only open a Likutei Moharan, ‘go over’ a piece of Likutei Halachos and talk with good friends who are searching together for true guidance and advice. When one tastes even a tiny spoonful of this, one instantly understands how there can be those for whom the king is their entire lives, and that we too can be like them; even within our simple and quiet lives we can live with the king at literally every moment.

A Holy Melody

History doesn’t record the date of the first chase after success, because it started before anyone attempted to document it. Everyone pursues success, but what’s the secret of those who achieve it? What’s the ‘magic’ ingredient that they possess? Whatever it is, it’s not something tangible, though it’s presence or absence are most definitely tangibly felt.

What’s the difference between a dead person and a live one, between something growing and something decayed, between alacrity and laziness, between joy and depression? Everything comes from the earth and eventually returns to it. Between birth and death this pile of earth learns to stand upright, walk, talk, eat and drink, think and create, all by means of the life-force that flows through it. So it seems that life-force – spirit, is the most important of all things.

Some may call it ‘joy’, others ‘vitality’ or ‘fulfilment’ – either way everyone is seeking this life-force, this spirit. All over the world people seek it and invest so many resources into discovering it’s source and secret. All pursue one goal – to truly be alive.

How strange it is then that the more the world invests into the manufacture of joy and fulfilment, the deeper it sinks into the depths of depression. People nowadays are great experts on joy and happiness – they can explain every state of mind and diagnose every emotional condition. Whole institutions and thousands of people are dedicated to the study of psychology and the human emotional condition. The topics of ‘happiness’, ‘fulfilment’ and ‘inner peace’ fill chapters and books in modern day research writings and text books. Everyone knows that happiness is the most precious commodity, and most are willing to pursue it all costs. Whether that means taking bitter pills, illicit drugs, deafening one’s ears with mindless music, dancing, running – whatever it takes to get a bit more of this spirit of happiness and vitality. This is true of the world at large. In the Torah world the spirit and state of the soul are also most central and essential issues.

Yet if we enter into the study hall of a Yeshiva during ‘seder’, the set time for learning, we witness a most perplexing phenomenon. All the young men will be busy with the same Tractate, the same topic, and will mostly probably be on precisely the same page, working to understand the same few lines of the Talmud. So why is it that for one boy the book open before him is like a well-spring of fresh water, bent over it enthusiastically, his fingers following every word with his eyes transfixed on the page, while facing him, sits another boy whose eyes are dim, whose face is pale, and who has half his body slumped under the table with his head above supported only by a hand that prevents him from collapsing entirely from boredom?

What did the Gemoro do for the boy whose eyes it lit up with joy and enthusiasm, that it didn’t do for his colleague who can just about manage to turn the pages? Why are the words of prayer a direct pathway to one boy’s heart, whilst to another they’re a meaningless mantra that must be mumbled as swiftly as possible? What’s the secret that makes one person jump out of bed at the crack of dawn, whilst his friend only greets the sun when it’s almost overhead? The answer lies hidden in the Parsha of the Metzora – leprosy.

Tsoraas, (commonly known as Leprosy) is never a pleasant thing, and together with the negative spiritual repercussions that it entails, it brings a person to a very low place indeed. It’s not for nothing that the Sages compared a person with Tsoraas to a corpse. A Metzora (a person with Tsoraas) is excommunicated from life, locked up outside the camp and is forbidden to communicate with anyone. The holy Zohar says Tsoraas entails the ‘closing off of heavenly light,’ – heavenly influx is withheld from the person.

The Rebbe talks about the meaning of Tsoraas and the process of purification from it in Torah 3 (I). There he explains where good and bad draw their respective life-forces from, and explains how it is that life can so suddenly become heavy going, how a heart that yesterday found so much fulfilment in a chapter of Mishnayos can today not even bring itself to utter the words.

What lies behind this, the Rebbe says, is nothing other than song – music.

“Because when he hears music from a wicked musician” warns the Rebbe, “it harms his ability to serve Hashem.” And the contrary is also true, “When he hears from a kosher musician then it’s good for him.”

Music is the ‘mochin’ (literally brains or mind) of both good and bad. Jealousy, physical appetites and honour-seeking in themselves aren’t as dangerous as the spirit that fuels them. If not for this ‘spirit’, which the media and other illusion-creators exploit to the full, the vanities of this world wouldn’t be able to entice even the most foolish of men. Around every vanity dances a song – this is what carries the illusion, strengthens it, and establishes it as a credible and powerful force.

When the Rebbe talks about music he uses the word as an umbrella term that encompasses all the various forms of entertainment and distraction that people engage in to arouse their weary spirits. The force that gave birth to all these activities, the thirst for true life and vitality, is also what has given birth to the prevalent frivolity of today’s world. Loshon Horoh, speaking negatively about others, is just a natural outcome of frantic burrowing in feelings of emptiness. In those boring moments all that’s left to do is to seek out some faults in someone else, because perhaps there, gloating in the faults and defects of another, will the soul find some respite.

The Metzora is smitten with Tsoraas because he spoke Loshon Horoh. If a person would hear how the gates of Heavenly influx are bolted shut above him when he speaks a word of Loshon Hora he wouldn’t need any lectures about its severity. He would become an instant expert in the laws of Loshon Hora.

Every Jew has a song in his heart that’s just waiting to find the notes to express itself. The melody in the heart is the life spirit that’s contained in the heart of every Jew. When this melody meets notes of Torah and Tefillah, it strengthens, intensifies and becomes a beautiful symphony. Fear of heaven, rather than being a heavy yoke, then becomes light and pleasurable. It uplifts the soul and enables it to pass smoothly over all the challenges of life. This is how it can be so long as there’s wind (or spirit) in the sails. But when this spirit is quashed and departs, then even the smallest challenge becomes an unbearable burden. This is why it’s possible to see a strong healthy man mumbling his grace after meals feebly, like a worn out old man.

“There’s nothing greater than ‘ONeG’ (delight) and nothing worse than ‘NeGah’ (a plague or leprosy),” (Sefer Yetzira). Many times on the way to the Oneg a person finds himself thrown down into the depths of Negah. True Oneg provides genuine life-force, vitality and spirit, it enlivens the song of the heart which draws from the source of life, coming down like dew to water and quenches the soul’s thirst. But it’s only capable of satisfying our healthy thirst. When we thirst for other things and seek to be satisfied by other music (i.e. entertainments, distractions, etc.) the Oneg transforms into a purulent inflammation; a Negah, and delight transforms into a nightmare.

Though leprosy in its physical form may be very rare nowadays, its spiritual equivalent is a rampant epidemic. Most of mankind is ostracised from the camp of true life, each person suffering from his own form of leprosy – a lack of vitality and spirit. This is the root cause of all the modern day spiritual, emotional and social woes. These are the consequences of the contemporary Tsoraas.

So what can we do? True vitality is a rare commodity. There is only one option left – music. We’re already accustomed to turning to music for it’s healing and soothing power. It can help us forget our pain and raise us above our problems. It uplifts our weary spirits. The Halachic permission given to listen to and engage in music after the destruction of the Temple flowed from the fact that ‘Without this, what will happen to us…?’

But when the Rebbe speaks about the use of music and songs, he says that they only help when they flow forth from a kosher musician, one who sings and makes music solely for Hashem’s honour, with no other motives. Where do we find his tapes? Most of the music we hear is not of this calibre.

But don’t despair. After saying this the Rebbe also provides us with a practical piece of advice to help us out – to learn Torah at night. This, he said, protects us from the harm of non-kosher music. For our problem is, in reality, only an expression of a much greater problem. When a Jew lacks vitality in his Yiddishkeit and Kedushah this means that there’s something lacking in the general Malchus D’Kedushah, ‘Holy Kingdom’. When the whole world is dizzy with enthusiasm for foolishness and vanity, then the Malchus HaReshaah, the ‘Wicked Kingdom’ is rejoicing. To correct this situation we need to build up the Holy Kingdom.

In a nutshell – our problem is speech. Speech forms the spirit and the spirit infuses the words, and both of them together either destroy or build up fear of Heaven and faith, Emunah. When the mouth gets accustomed to spewing words of foolishness and vanity; when words are wasted on the oh-so important matters of this world, or are used to degrade others, then the spirit that blows in the sails of the soul is a foreign one, and  it’s very hard to do even the smallest holy act.

But if we want to be cured of the plague of Tsaraas there are two simple guidelines to follow. The first is – be quiet. This at the very least cuts off the channels of life-force from the Wicked Kingdom. Stop the negative talk. The second is – learn Torah at night. Such learning builds up the Holy Kingdom. In the night-time hours when the storm winds of this world settle down, a Jew can grasp for himself an hour of true pursuit and toil, an hour when his learning is just for Hashem. Such a genuine act that flows from the pure desire to serve Hashem is capable of rebuilding and restoring the Holy Kingdom. Such learning raises up the Holy Kingdom and revives it. When we do this, we are protected from even the worst music of this world, which then loses its power to bring us down or separate us from the Source of Life.

 

 

 

 

Really, what do they Expect of Us?

It seems that you take one step forward, and the next step there’s an obstacle.  At a certain point you ask yourself, what is going on here?

Heskel didn’t know what to think anymore.  The day before the shift at the plant where he works was called off suddenly.  This week the entire plant was moved to a new location without as much as an explanation.  The day before an electrical blackout stopped production dead on its tracks.  Yes, workers are extremely resourceful, but production is still way down.  When Heskel first got the job he thought it was a dream come true.  Now he thinks of quitting.  According to his math, the plant is about to close.

Surprisingly, the work manager didn’t seem perturbed at all by Heskel’s doomsday calculations.  He revealed to his astonished worker that the plant is no regular factory at all.  It is a plant designed to train special production methods for times of emergency.  High management is looking for adaptability and the aptitude to improvise under pressure.  They don’t really care about production and quotas.  They are look for the ability to cope with adversity, ingenuity and plain old durability under difficulty.

♦♦♦

Who can toil with no aim in sight? Who is mentally strong enough to work with no goal, future, or prospects in sight?  That is exactly the kind of work the Israelites in Egypt were facing.  The architects of Pitom and Ramses had no building aspirations whatsoever.  Their only goal was to enslave the people of Israel, drain their energy, and sap their faith.

At exodus Hashem said “they are my slaves”.  The story of working for nothing is over forever.  Kabolas HaTorah took us into a whole new ‘factory’ – work of the most sublime rhyme and reason of them all.  It is work in the palace of the king, where every single effort in thought, speech, and deed for the sake of the King has an eternal, inestimable value.  Together with shedding slavery, we also received a calendar.  Unfortunately, the Jewish calendar revolves around the moon.

For 210 years we waited for the redemption and we finally got it.  And when we finally got above the laws of nature, suddenly we are chained to the constant trials of ups and downs.  The moon forever increases and decreases every single month, while the sun is both shiny and stable.  Why were we chained to such an unstable cycle upon getting out of Egypt?

Measure of Success

Success depends so much on a right beginning.  Beginnings are usually flushed with great fanfare and enthusiasm.  A new year … a new season … a new job … they all give you a huge jolt of spirit and hope to start and do great work.  The first steps can focus the mental energy on surging ahead.  Spring is a time for renewal.  Creation wears new clothes.  Liberty permeates the air.  A new volition and ambition flows into creation.  We feel a strong pull towards our Father in Heaven and He, onto us in return.

That is the beginning.  What comes after is … well … different.  We all know that consistent time-keeping is a must.  A Jew must keep a stable, consistent schedule of kedusha.  But some parts of one’s life are simply not under your control.  The urge and yearning you feel for Hashem isn’t constant either.  Sometimes you heart is open like a hall and then, many thousands of times your heart is closed as a fist.  Tzaddikim tell it to us straight off.  This is the way it’s going to be – ups and downs all the way – just like the moon.

Is this a wise policy?  Isn’t there a danger that pre-knowledge of the fickle nature of our trek will diminish and cool down our enthusiasm?

Eyes on the Goal

When you start out, you need to know what the goal is.  If it’s a race, you had better come first.  But the service of Hashem isn’t a race and has a very different goal.  This is why the Tzaddikim tell us straight off-the-bat what we’re heading into.

Man is flesh and blood, infused with a spiritual soul.  The body pulls down while the neshoma yearns for the Heavens.  Since the two are destined to coexist, there is a constant struggle going on.  Rebbe Nachman calls the ‘up’ and ‘down’ forces the forces of ‘pulling and enforcing’.  The pulling force draws the Neshomah up while the enforcing power compels the body down.  The balance between the two forces is the engine behind both creation and creativity.  Rebbe Nosson gives a wonderful example of a watch.

Yesteryears watches were mechanical.  The power that drove the watch’s movement was a spring, a long thin piece of metal tightly wound daily.  The tension stored in the spring was gradually released by the watch’s mechanism over a 24 hour time period.  It is the interrelation between the spring’s forward driving force and the intricate mechanism holding it back that releases the power in a tightly controlled fashion.  That consistent release enables a sustained movement of the watch’s hands and the exact keeping of time.  Without the spring, nothing can happen – without the restraining mechanism that energy would have blown off uselessly.

The goal of the service of Hashem is ביטול – self annulment.  That self-annulment is created by what seems like being torn by the conflicts between our built-in up and down tendencies.  The beauty of the soul pulls the soul with yearning, and the body’s dense materialism holds it back.  The combined resulting struggle creates the immense joy of Heaven.  The success isn’t a race, but coping with the constant struggle against the “enforcer” that hold you back.  Some get a delicate “enforcer” that allows them hours for uninterrupted learning and praying.  Others are giving Heaven immeasurable joy from a pit of tar, struggling under burdens that would break a mule’s back.  Success is the ability to sustain the struggle between the two opposing forces.

This is what we are told when the Torah tells us “This is your first month”.  Now, that you have gone through the gates of emunah in the service of Hashem, you are now the slave of the King of all Kings. The initial enthusiasm isn’t the goal, it’s only a tool.  The goal is to forever reignite a new urge that will subdue another instance of necessary hold-backs.

When you enter the month of Nissan and Pesach with this understanding you grasp that Nissan, like Rosh Hashanah, is a time of renewal.  On Tishrei Hashem’s slaves are sitting in synagogues, wrapped with praying shawls – in Nissan they get down on their knees, scrubbing the physical chometz off – but the principle is the same.

Rosh Chodesh Nissan is the Rosh Hashanah of kings.  Rebbe Nahcman reveals that this is the time when new honor and authority is given to new power holders.  During this day, the soul of each and every one of us is renewed.  Our springs, as it were, are wound.  We fortify our souls with new longings and urge to reach the infinite, and overcome the “enforcing” deflation of Pesach cleaning.  This is when we realize that success isn’t in winning the race, but in being willing to carry the load.

 

 

 

The Key to Kedusha

We’ve just landed from the heights of “the ultimate knowledge is not knowing’ of the holy Megila with its astonishing miracle and the beaming kedusha of Mordechai and Esther.  Only yesterday we were flying beyond creation … and then the wine and whiskey faded.  We may have even forgotten that in the beginning of this week we were at such exalted place.

But something profound happened to us on Purim.  We touched a totally pristine truth.  For a few hours, we returned to a sweet innocence and touched the inner core of totally clean emunah.  If it wasn’t that time was passing and errands were beckoning, who in his right mind would want to leave such a holy world and return to the grayness of this everyday life?

We all wish to touch that longing and purity.  No one wants to return to the numbness that envelopes the heart.  No one in his right mind wants to plunge into the indifference and fatigue of the weekday all over again.  On Purim we tasted purity, spirit, and deliverance from the yokes of doubts.  We had a respite from a world of temptations and lusts.  We got a timeout from nagging fantasies.  We don’t want to leave that place.

But where can one find ropes that will keep our hearts and minds tied to the kedusha of Purim?  How can we remain connected to the peak of freedom while we wallow in the mud of incoherence and malice?

When the mind is clean, the holy thoughts can maintain the memory of the holy days and continue the connection even as the days propel us forward.  A spirit of defilement builds an iron curtain that creates fantasies that sever the cord of memory to the kedusha.  This is what brings us to numbness and oblivion.

A secret called “Parah”

During the time of Beis Hamikdash we had a way to extricate ourselves from defilement by using the mysterious ashes of a red heifer.  After being purified the soul shed the dense screen of blindness and apathy and was filled with a new, fresh spirit.  Today, more than at any time in history, we need that ash.  Being that the Torah is eternal, that miracle cure must be found in some fashion today as well.  Undoubtedly, Purim is the key.

In lesson 74 Rebbe Nachman explains that the spiritual road to Pesach emerges out of Purim. מפורים נעשה פרה  – “Purim becomes ‘Parah’ (heifer)”.  Heifer is the quintessential symbol of purification and it begins with Purim.

The Mitzvah of the red heifer is still a totally unfathomable mystery.  Shlomo Hamelech, the wisest of men, said: “I thought I have become wise (i.e. I will understand the secret of the red heifer) but it remains far from me.”   Spiritually, this is where the miraculous potency of the ashes of the red heifer lies.  It is to be found where the human intellect, with its multitude of questions and swirling doubts, cannot reach.

When the human mind encounters a question it cannot solve, it gets stuck and becomes clouded up.  This is the main reason for lethargic prayers.  You see, the world is filled with unanswerable questions and riddles.  It is not possible to comprehend the ways of the Divine.  So, sometimes we are filled with a subtle (or not so subtle) suspicion that ‘something isn’t right’ about the way Hashem runs the world.  When such thoughts enter the heart, we feel insulted, wondering: “Hey, why don’t things go my way?”   Everything seems to be going wrong just to spite me!  A heavy distrust creeps into the heart that things are somehow smoother and easier for people who are far from the service of Hashem.

The result is a clogged heart, which makes prayer so very hard.  In lesson 55 Rebbe Nachman talks about the heart being twisted, which blurs emunah and prayer.  A warm prayer can only come from a heart that is straight and simple.  The apex of emunah is the clear knowledge that Hashem is absolutely just.

The cure for the spirit of defilement is the ashes of the red heifer.  Purity can be found only in the lap of the unknowable. When you don’t insist on understanding, you do not fear questions.

Renewed With the World

The days of spring are fast approaching.  A person who seeks Hashem wishes to go to the field and renew himself among the plants and trees with fresh prayer and song.   A prayer invites the soul to renew itself to be set free from the jail of materialism and the madness of the flesh.  The heart calls for Hisbodedus … unfortunately, reality doesn’t always agree…

Renewing prayer suddenly becomes a battle.  Disturbing foreign thoughts squeeze the energy out of you to the point of exhaustion.  Humiliation and pain flood you from within and from the world around you.  Your prayer is crowded with a thousand thoughts of silliness and insanity that drive you clear out of your mind.   This is where you need the ashes of red heifer –  The secret of not asking anything and taking it all in your stride.

If our prayer didn’t go the way we wanted it to, trying to understand why it happened will only make it worse and actually drive us away from our goal.  Soon a suspicion permeates the heart after a failed Hisbodedus that things will not improve in the future either.  This results in a loss of many hours you could have spent praying.  The insistence on understanding can be the source of all defilement.  Demanding an explanation for every failure throws an opaque screen before the light.  The foundation of simplicity is that whatever transpired happened for a reason.  Hashem knows what He is doing – move on.  This is the secret of stability and permanence.

Kedusha is predicated on stability and consistency.  Consistent learning and Hisbodedus schedules are the building blocks of your eventual personal sanctity.  To achieve this consistency you need to dismantle the roadblocks that bar your way – and the greatest one of them all is the insistence on understanding the reason for failures and difficulties.  Stability and consistency in kedusha means adhering to the correct schedule and regimen even if it seems to go ‘all wrong’.  You add one grain of goodness to another and build an edifice of kedusha.

Clear-headed simplicity is the key.

 

 

What Does One do during a Recess?

Recess is not only a waste of time, but a source of distress.  When excitement dwindles, coldness seeps in …

A deep silence descended on the Yeshiva.  A guest Torah luminary has just finished delivering a deep discourse on a difficult sugya.  The young students sent the Rosh Yeshiva their questions ahead of time, fully expecting their every confusion dispelled.  Yet for an hour they have been sitting there, listening, yet were unable to understand the revered guest’s logic.

Following the lecture the students tried looking for the Torah great and asked him to make things more clear, but he was gone.  Disappointed, the students returned to their books.  If the teacher was gone, his words were imprinted in their memory still.  The students sat together in small study groups, pondering and analyzing the words they heard.  Ever so slowly, the words were coming together.  Suddenly the connections the distinguished guest made became clear and before they knew it, the entire issue was illuminated, shining clear as day.  Before the evening the guest scholar returned.  “At my lecture” he said, “I have given you the basic understanding that was enough to answer all your questions.  But you had no way to understand what I said unless you had time to settle the things in your hearts.  I disappeared to give you that space and give you the chance to understand them on your own”.

♦♦♦

We’ve just entered the month of Adar full with zest and enthusiasm. Last week we heard the parsha of Shekalim, the first of the four Parshiot leading to Purim and Pessach.  During Rosh Chodesh we could practically feel the excitement of the oncoming Holidays while reciting the Halel.  If the first days were so electric, surely the days after would be even better… but they weren’t.  Instead they were quiet and, well, nothing.

Inexplicably, sandwiched between Shekalim and Zachor there is a ‘meaningless’ Shabbos set smack in middle.  A Jew may wonder ‘What now?’  What am I to do with an ’empty’ Shabbos in the midst of the most special times of the year?  What’s more, how do you get ready to the high, exalted upcoming holydays?  How do you affect deliverances?

This interlude is rather deflating.  There’s “too much time to think”, as it were.  Into the vacuum doubts can creep, and enthusiasm can wither on the vine.  And that is exactly where Amalek is lying in wait.

“There is one nation”’ Amalek thunders, “Who are quick to get excited and just as quick to get bored and cool off”.  They just woke up from the rustle of the Shekalim and are back asleep once again.

So why, then, is this intermission here, during such a critical time?

To stop and reflect

The answer to “what do we do now?” is “We stop and reflect”.

The break is intended for reflection.  Adar is a month of new beginnings as well as continuity.  It is a month of war against Amalek and his chilling doubts.  This is why a Shabbos that is dedicated to reflection is so important.  We heard Shekalim last week.  Now it is time to stop and take inventory.

When you look closely you notice that Judaism is made of new beginnings.  Surprisingly, one connects to the kedusha with half-baked efforts and not just with perfect accomplishments.  So the only thing left to do is … do.  You grab whatever you can and run with it.

If Amalek wishes to inject us with doubt, then doubt is the last thing we need to deal with now.  When the time comes to doing anything, Amalek comes up with the age-old song of: “Oh, I don’t know what to do”.  Even when it is time to daven Shachris, Amalek still contends that “things aren’t clear” and why should one rush?  After all, there really isn’t anything to do there anyhow.  Amalek also has “questions”: How will you know how to learn?  Or how to Pray? Or how to get ready for Purim or Pesach? Or which Mitzvah takes precedence?  In other words, Amalek concludes, you don’t have a clue how to be a Jew and if there’s anything that needs to be done, it is best pushed off until tomorrow.

The verse warns us about the war against Amalek and his ubiquitous “tomorrow”.  “Go and hold a fight against Amalek tomorrow”.  Do not push off anything until tomorrow because doubts and lack of enthusiasm will enter your heart until then.  Shabbos Shekalim screams: “Don’t let thoughts and doubts hold you up anymore”.  Paralysis is the result of insisting on perfection when happiness is possible only if you are willing to contend with scraps.  Anyone knows to grab good moments – a couple of moments of prayer, a steady shiur, and quickness to utilize an available half an hour for something good.  Amalek wants to rob us of this affluence and our goal is to push off doubts that will paralyze us.

The call of VaYikra is calling out to every Jew to come into the holy of holies and serve Hashem with Torah and Mitzvoth as it is said: “Every day a divine call comes out of the mount Choreb”.

The other way around

The month of Adar is a time of “the other way around”.  This is the month that has turned from lamentations to great joy.  This is the time to conduct a revolution of kedusha.  Breaks are made for continuity and not doubts and coldness.

Breaks and doubts ambush us at every corner, causing hours upon hours of idleness.  “It seems that there is no use to start as there isn’t enough time to finish anything, and nothing is going to change anyhow…”  It is the time to look at things differently.  If there’s no time, then it is time to move ahead and grab whatever we can and fill the temporal with the eternal.  When the people of Israel were called to donate their possessions for the building of the Mishkan they were well before the decree of having to spend forty years in the desert.  As far as they were concerned, they were mere weeks before entering into the land of Israel.  Still, not a single person claimed they should wait for the permanent home of the Shechinah and refrain from building the temporary Mishkan.  This is because they were burning with the holy fire of enthusiasm for the service of Hashem and were quick to grab onto any Mitzvah they could.

The sanctity that appeared upon us in the beginning of the four Parshiod didn’t disappear. The break means to give us some space for reflection.  The time when the light is gone is the best time to reflect on what I got from the light while it was here.  “Dead time” is telling anyone who is willing to hear and search that there is always what to do: it is always possible to do the best for this very minute.

 

 

Two Sides of the Coin

The defeat was humiliating and the conduct of the army was giving off the scent of stinging shame.  The embarrassment of the head of the army and the king was overwhelming.  The shocked soldiers returned to their land in total disgrace.  The feelings of pride and self-worth of old were replaced with guilt and weakness.

But the upcoming battle demands a far greater power and determination.  Down trodden, the armies will be stepping into unavoidable defeat all over again.  The troops must be inspired with bravery and self-confidence.  People must regain the admiration for their monarch who epitomizes their self-identity and self-worth.  So, to return the élan to his people, the king himself must come down and dwell among his nation in a most unusual and startling manner.  During the following days the royal image of the king could be seen walking the camp, beaming benevolently.  Low foot soldiers got to meet their exalted monarch face to face and be personally acknowledged by him.

This extraordinary gesture returned the spirit to the armies.  Emboldened, they return to battle, united by feelings of shared destiny and unity.

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Smells of a new beginning start to permeate the air; Passover is on the horizon.  The first moment of the new year, a Rosh Hashanah all its own.  Pessach is a beginning, and like any beginning it has a segue leading to it: the four special Shabbossim that precede the ultimate holiday of freedom and liberty.

This week we will read the first parsha of the four, parshas Shekalim.  Next we’ll go through the parshios of Zachor, Para and Chodesh.  These four parshios aren’t mere additions to the weekly portion, they constitute gateways through which every Jew can enter the sanctity of Passover.  They open the way to freedom and success – if you know how to use them.

“These are the commandments of the Mishkan of testimony”.  Rashi explains: “[For it is a] testimony that Hashem forgave the sin of the golden calf.”  The Mishkan is the royal smile, a monarchial declaration of love.  Immediately after we committed the most atrocious sin imaginable, Hashem agrees to be mollified and declares before the entire world that His love for His people has not waned. The proof positive that Hashem has not left His people is that He orders them to build Him a home so He can reside among them.

The Mitzvah of half a shekel invites every Jew to take real part in the divine inspiration of the Jewish people.  Everyone is requested to become a partner in the holy service of Hashem.

Two Sides of the Coin

As we stand on the cusp of new beginning, a thought of the golden calf sneaks in.  Suddenly the heart is divided. On one hand, the intimacy of the Mishkan is inviting us to come forth and become a part of the Divine Presence.  The heart wishes to badly to see the smiling face of the King and receive his absolution.  On the other hand, another thought enters the heart.  Maybe it is time to stop and reckon with the unpardonable sin we just committed.  It’s not as if it didn’t happen.  Maybe it is time to figure out where we are and reconcile with what we have done.  Time to rectify the wrong.  This is how doubt captures the soul on the precipice of new beginnings:  Should it be “Azamra” – or judgment?  Should I rejoice in what I have or be judged on what is still missing?

There are two sides to the coin of the half-shekel.  One side evokes the petition for mercy for a transgression for the ages.  It invites us to forget the bad and see ourselves as part of the Shechina.  It is the King coming down, inviting us and acknowledging even the simplest Jew, encouraging us to become a part of eternity for the small deed of a half a shekel.

But the half shekel also denotes “mishkal” – weigh.  It is a call for the bringing up of the deeds and weighing them precisely.  It is the need to evaluate and judge that which needs to be fixed.  A Jew must judge his ways in relation to the Torah and correct all that needs correction.  Both are needed.

The question, of course, is where to begin.

Azamra – the gate to success

Hischazkus – strengething – and judgment are both crucial, but the first step to success can be accomplished only through the gate opened for us in parshas Shekalim.  Parshas Shekalim proclaims “Azamra”.  Just when the memory of the golden calf is chasing us from behind, we must immediately find a connection to the dwelling place of Hashem.  The Mitzvah of half a shekel calls every Jew to become a part of the Temple of Hashem.  This is not time for judgment and the establishment of self-righteous inquiry panels.  Now the light of the divine presence shines in the world.  It consoles tired souls and lays the groundwork for the new Kingdom.

“Azamra” is a search for the points of goodness in a landscape that seems to be devoid of anything positive.  When there is a need to rectify a failure as great as the sin of the golden calf, the way to begin is half a shekel.  Rejoicing in נקודות טובות  and finding happiness in what there is.

If you make the first steps in through the gateway of Azamra, you will find the doorway to partshas Zachor where the war against Amalek can be fought successfully.  Victory is possible if Azamra prepares the ground first.  The fight against the coldness of Amalek, to dispel the winds of heresy and shake laziness and lethargy off the heart, must start off with the song that is made up of the good points.

And when you enter in through the gates of Azamra and Zachor, you find the spirit of purity of Para and are ready to face Shabbat Hagadol.

You’re marching towards a world of freedom and success.

 

 

Can We Dream Of Miracles?

There are times when a popular rebellion that threatens to take down an entire kingdom starts by external forces.  A band of infiltrators settles down and, over time, undermines the stability of the country.  They inject silent venom of mutiny and bitterness that easily sways the people’s emotions.  Their toxic speech wreck a delicate structure of trust and admiration.  At those times, the dispute between the people and the leaders isn’t the real problem at the heart of the nation; rather, it is a foreign affliction, virulent and deadly as cancer, that needs to be removed.  The way to return the trust and rebuild the relationships is to separate the people from the foreign influence and unite them around a kernel of true trust and appreciation of the sublime honor of the kingdom.

♦♦♦

Last week the Torah told us just of such an event.  The people of Israel, the crown of creation, the beloved children of Hashem, pure souls for whom the entire universe and beyond was created – fall, in one instant, from utter perfection to the depth of unimaginable sacrilege.

But the horrendous transgression wasn’t the deed of the Jewish souls.  The devastating breakdown of trust and faith was the deed of Egyptian infiltrators, the “Erev Rav”.

As long as the Jewish nation was secluded, they basked in the closeness to G-d and the sublime privilege of His unparalleled love for them.  The nature of this intimate relationship cannot be described with words.  The people of Israel were immersed in a divine glow that is beyond description of being picked out of billions of identical people and made incomparably unique.  When one feels that way, the legs lift themselves up all on their own and run to serve Hashem.  When the heart is overflowing with love for Hashem, it pulls the entire body with unbreakable ropes of love.  But somebody really didn’t like that special connection.

The Infiltrators’ Rebellion

There are always those who take a very jaundice view of the special relationship Israel has with Hashem.  During the failing of the golden calf, it was the Erev Rav who introduced the bane of rebelliousness into the hearts of the people of Israel.  They killed the very living spirit that pulsates in the Jewish heart, replacing it with doubt and suspicion.  This is the way of Amalek, he who jumped into the fire to put out the flame of Jewish faith.  Like the Erev Rav, Amalek introduced the notion of עם קל, a rearrangement of the letters of its name עמלק, inferring that Israel is ‘just another nation’, nothing special.  A nation like any other.  From there to downfall, the way is short and easy.

The golden calf wrecked the Jewish heart, yes, yet in parshas VaYakhel the Torah tells us how this damage was rectified.

ויקהל משה – “And Moshe has gathered the congregation of Israel”.  The Holy Zohar explains “The congregation of Israel” – excluding the Erev Rav.  This gathering came to rectify the crime of the golden calf by separating the nation of Israel from the Egyptian lecherous plague.  This is the secret.

The sin of the golden calf is the direct result of intermingling; it’s as simple as that.  This is what Amalek and the Erev Rav are after: the dimming of the divine radiance of our Jewish identity.

Erev Rav, Get Out!

The way to disrobe the heavy, soiled garments of heresy is to hold an exclusive gathering that rejects everything that doesn’t belong in the inner Jewish point.  The Erev Rav ‘gave us’ many things; opinions … emotions … doubt … calling them by fancy names to camouflage the fact they are a rancid fruit of foreign spirit.  The results of that ‘enlightenment’ are the feelings of distance and fatigue that led to the sin of the golden calf, as well as the confusions of emunah people experience today.

If we want to renew our connection to Hashem we must first get rid of that which comes from the outside and gather around the points of goodness, good thoughts and the true wisdom of the Torah of Moshe Rabbeinu.

Moshe reveals that even though we’ve sinned, Hashem’s affection is still with us, a love of a Father to His children which we will never be able to imagine.  During this gathering Moshe connected himself to every single Jew, from the greatest to the lowliest.  Even the lowest Jew received the astonishing gift of connecting to Moshe.  This is possible because Tzaddikim see the G-dliness in everything, even when it’s deeply concealed in the very dwelling of defilement itself.  When Moshe looks at the smallest Jew he sees only the Jewish point in him.  This is what enables Moshe to connect himself with everyone.

To Gather So We Can Pray

Purim is right ahead of us.  The story of the Megila eerily reflects the present times we live in.  The people of Israel need mercy and pardon like never before.  We are all stuck deep to our necks in the mud of trouble and difficulties.

We watch over millenniums at the marvels of the Megila and wordlessly wonder if ניסים can happen today as well.  Can we dream of miracles?  The answer is that it is not only possible, but essential.  What we need to do now is gather.

Gathering creates unity and unity brings the essential faith to the heart of the nation.  A Jewish heart must be nourished with emunah.  To pray and achieve deliverance, we have to be glowing with the pride of belonging to the Kingdom of Hashem.  When the people of Israel can cast off the filth that became mixed in with the life of emunah and gather around our points of goodness, emunah, and hope, the gates of prayer will be flung wide open.

VaYakhel renews the living remembrance of the love of a merciful Father.  Getting together and expelling the external influences kindle the Jewish fire in our hearts again.  It is what allows us to know that no matter how low we might have sunk; His love is still with us.  At anytime and anyplace we can get together and evoke new compassion upon us all.

All we have to do, is do it.