The night before last, on the yahrtzeit of Rebbe Elimelech of Lizhensk, in a dream I was made to understand the precious nature of mitzwoth.
I remember the pure happiness and joy I felt for mitzwoth, but I couldn't begin to put it into words. When I was speaking to my father on the phone last night, telling him about this joy, I found a way to express it: The pleasure and joy that we can experience with each mitzwah is the same pleasure and joy we experience through our children.
I could never have understood this before I became a father, and still there are many levels which I have yet to experience and so, I am yet to understand. But, the pure richness of joy a parent experiences, the nachas that a parent feels at seeing their child cheerful/successful/etc, the awe that a parent feels whenever their child does something new, that is the pleasure and joy and relationship that we can (potentially) have with our mitzwoth.
[This expression lead me to consider and understand the following only today:]
It is, perhaps, for this reason that Chazal explain that the mitzwoth of Tzaddikim are called their toldoth, their generations. (אלא תולדות נח, אלא תולדות יצחק בן אברהם)
Whenever we do a mitzwah, it can be a chore, it can be a responsibility, it can be a priviledge, it can be a treat, or it can be giving birth to another child which we nurture and care for, which fills our hearts with love and joy until we feel unequal to the task. Our mitzwoth don't really leave us and vanish as soon as they are performed, they stay with us and add more light to our life. כי נר מצוה ותורה אור - the mitzwah is like another candle that makes our world [a lot] brighter--forever. When we learn Torah it increases the light that shines from our mitzwoth, not only the one's we have yet to perform but even those that are behind us.
This is a form of Teshuvah we don't normally consider, making our (past) good deeds better. When we keep our mitzwoth with us, and nurture them with more Torah, when we know they are eternal and are forever with us, even after our bodies have long vanished, we can improve them even after the act is long done.
It is only when we let go of our mitzwoth, fire and forget style, that we separate ourselves from them. Just as a parent could, heaven forebid, turn their back on their child. Yet, all is not lost, all is never lost, just as a child always longs for their parents, so too the mitzwah always longs for us to revisit it, to be nurtured and fed, to grow.
28.2.08
27.2.08
the sweetness of elimelech
Today is the Yahrtzeit of the Noam Elimelech. I practically live by the following quote:
Rebbe Elimelech himself is quoted as saying “It is a wonder that the Rabbis saw through divine inspiration that the final generations would suffer so terribly and didn’t they know that Elimelech would come and nullify and sweeten the harsh decrees?” (Nesiv Mitzvosecha Emunah 4:8 also in Eser TzachTzachos #35)No matter what people tell me about the awful things that seem about to befall (has v'shalom) the world and/or the children of Israel, I have never once felt that such was the truth. Every single indication I've ever received from HaShem in prayer or dream has always been about His love and compassion for us. Perhaps it is this quote from Reb Elimelech that explains it all.
[from http://www.613.org/noam/introduction.htm]
26.2.08
don't mind the mess
The closer you come to HaShem in holiness, the further HaShem moves away from you. In this manner HaShem always pushes you to grow in devotion and make apparent your desire of His closeness. This is the secret of the Parah Adumah, the Red Heiffer, according to the Noam Elimelech (parashath Hukkath) that it makes those who are pure, impure. Meaning that it makes those who have achieved a certain level of purity, recognize just how impure they still are.
He marks this transition in the words פרה and אפר, the Parah, the Red Heiffer inspires us to Teshuvah, (symbolized by the ה) at which point we draw closer to HaShem's holiness, (symbolized by the א) and must acknowledge our own insignificance in the face of this, that we are like ashes, אפר. Just as we take the Red Heiffer and burn it into ash.
We see here two sort of contradictory images, one, we must learn to push with more and more effort, always seeking to grow and rise higher. At the same time, we must recognize our smallness and become like nothing.
This reminds me of a teaching of Rebbe Nachman that sometimes it seems as though our sins have returned to challenge us anew, even after we were sure we had overcome them. He explains that in fact these are new challenges clothed in the old clothes of previous challenges. So even as we climb sometimes it seems as if we have fallen.
Similarly he teaches (in yet another torah) that as we raise to newer levels we are pushed to the external aspect of newer and higher worlds which result in an apparent fall even though in truth we are always rising.
Likewise we find in the Pri Ha'aretz that the secret of ratz (running) and shav (returning) is that even the shav is actually an act of ratz.
What do we take away from all this? the only thing we really can: Pursue HaShem with everything you have and then pursue Him some more. The one catch that we learn here is, we have to keep putting in effort no matter whether we see any results (ever) because sometimes what looks like a backslide is just an invitation from HaShem for us to take another step closer.
If we want a good analog, perhaps we can look to relationships, we dread being in a conflict in our personal relationships, but when it happens and we successfully prove our love and devotion despite the temporary obstacles, the relationship is richer and closer than it was before.
Sometimes, when I'm particulary low, I rest my burden on Rebbe Nachman or the Baal Shem Tov, relying on them that everything that happened was meant to, and I only need to worry about moving forward, not cleaning up the messes I've made until now. Then, later, if and when I have renewed strength, I return to the massive task of cleaning up my act.
From here I can learn something even stronger, instead of just ignoring the mess, I now have a tool to use the mess to strengthen my resolve. This Torah basically teaches us that when things look bad, we can turn it on its head and see it as a sign that HaShem wants us all the more. Which can be a real comfort if we've learned to suspend that part of ourselves that always likes to raise doubts. (by the way that part of ourselves is the Amalek we are commanded to erase. ספק (doubt) = gematria 240 = עמלק)
He marks this transition in the words פרה and אפר, the Parah, the Red Heiffer inspires us to Teshuvah, (symbolized by the ה) at which point we draw closer to HaShem's holiness, (symbolized by the א) and must acknowledge our own insignificance in the face of this, that we are like ashes, אפר. Just as we take the Red Heiffer and burn it into ash.
We see here two sort of contradictory images, one, we must learn to push with more and more effort, always seeking to grow and rise higher. At the same time, we must recognize our smallness and become like nothing.
This reminds me of a teaching of Rebbe Nachman that sometimes it seems as though our sins have returned to challenge us anew, even after we were sure we had overcome them. He explains that in fact these are new challenges clothed in the old clothes of previous challenges. So even as we climb sometimes it seems as if we have fallen.
Similarly he teaches (in yet another torah) that as we raise to newer levels we are pushed to the external aspect of newer and higher worlds which result in an apparent fall even though in truth we are always rising.
Likewise we find in the Pri Ha'aretz that the secret of ratz (running) and shav (returning) is that even the shav is actually an act of ratz.
What do we take away from all this? the only thing we really can: Pursue HaShem with everything you have and then pursue Him some more. The one catch that we learn here is, we have to keep putting in effort no matter whether we see any results (ever) because sometimes what looks like a backslide is just an invitation from HaShem for us to take another step closer.
If we want a good analog, perhaps we can look to relationships, we dread being in a conflict in our personal relationships, but when it happens and we successfully prove our love and devotion despite the temporary obstacles, the relationship is richer and closer than it was before.
Sometimes, when I'm particulary low, I rest my burden on Rebbe Nachman or the Baal Shem Tov, relying on them that everything that happened was meant to, and I only need to worry about moving forward, not cleaning up the messes I've made until now. Then, later, if and when I have renewed strength, I return to the massive task of cleaning up my act.
From here I can learn something even stronger, instead of just ignoring the mess, I now have a tool to use the mess to strengthen my resolve. This Torah basically teaches us that when things look bad, we can turn it on its head and see it as a sign that HaShem wants us all the more. Which can be a real comfort if we've learned to suspend that part of ourselves that always likes to raise doubts. (by the way that part of ourselves is the Amalek we are commanded to erase. ספק (doubt) = gematria 240 = עמלק)
world of the heart
The Ketem Ofir 2:14 (Rebbe Yitzhak Isaac of Komarna) explains that the heart is a microcosm of the person: The heart itself is like the body, like the 22 hebrew letters through which HaShem created the world, and the blood that flows through it is like the neshama, like the crowns on the letters.
25.2.08
the wealth of a pauper
Likkutei Halachoth (Hilchoth Tefillin 5:43) discusses the three kinds of prayer: 1) Tefillat Mosheh 2) Tefillat David 3) Tefillat Ha'ani, the prayer of the pauper. Of the three, the most appreciated is the prayer of the poor person. Why? Because he turns to HaShem with full recognition that there's no where else to go, he depends totally and completely on HaShem and he will not cease his prayers until he is answered.
He brings down the Zohar which describes how the prayer of the poor person gathers up everyone else's prayers, envelopes them and ascends to heaven. There, HaShem tells the heavenly court, leave me for I want to be alone with this special precious prayer. Once the court has left, HaShem derives (figuratively) special pleasure from this prayer, and all the other prayers (that had been hidden within it) are revealed (and answered) as well in this special moment.
From here we can see the most valuable prayer comes from the mouth of he who depends totally and utterly on HaShem for every one of his needs. As long as we think we're ok for now, but we need to pray that HaShem should also provide for us tomorrow or next week or next year, we aren't in touch with the fact that this very moment in which we are "ok" is being given to us right now from HaShem, out of His infinite kindness.
He brings down the Zohar which describes how the prayer of the poor person gathers up everyone else's prayers, envelopes them and ascends to heaven. There, HaShem tells the heavenly court, leave me for I want to be alone with this special precious prayer. Once the court has left, HaShem derives (figuratively) special pleasure from this prayer, and all the other prayers (that had been hidden within it) are revealed (and answered) as well in this special moment.
From here we can see the most valuable prayer comes from the mouth of he who depends totally and utterly on HaShem for every one of his needs. As long as we think we're ok for now, but we need to pray that HaShem should also provide for us tomorrow or next week or next year, we aren't in touch with the fact that this very moment in which we are "ok" is being given to us right now from HaShem, out of His infinite kindness.
24.2.08
teaching our souls to enjoy life
The point of having a physical body that enjoys the world is to teach our souls to enjoy HaShem in the same way. This is the teaching of the Holy Pri Ha'aretz on Parashath Ki Tisa.
If we don't teach our neshama how to enjoy in HaShem, then when the body expires, the soul is left with no source of sustenance, and it expires as well (heaven forbid) this is what being cut off (כרת) is.
If we don't teach our neshama how to enjoy in HaShem, then when the body expires, the soul is left with no source of sustenance, and it expires as well (heaven forbid) this is what being cut off (כרת) is.
a foot in the door
This past Shabbath I reviewed Likkutei Moharan I:152, to me it is one of the more cryptic Torahs in Likkutei Moharan. I can't be sure I understood it correctly, but from my limited understanding Rebbe Nachman explains that at certain truly difficult times, a great Tzaddik may defend the generation through unbelievable mesirut nefesh. What is this mesirut nefesh, this unbelievable self-sacrifice?
Rebbe Nachman explains that when a soul comes into this world there is only one gate through which that soul can still ascend and unite with HaShem, the gate of emunah. Sometimes, that gate is temporarily closed (on a personal level because of some damage one has done, and a national level because of the culture of sinning that has been reinforced and strengthened) but that is only for a short while. In really extreme circumstances permission is given from on high to shut the gate permanently. In such times someone with true fear of heaven (to my understanding a Tzaddik) puts themselves in the mouth of the gate, and because of their purity, the gate cannot be closed. In this manner, the Tzaddik allows the gate of emunah to remain open, even when Bnei Yisrael doesn't deserve it. The catch, and here is the true mesirut nefesh, is that the Tzaddik can't leave the mouth of the gate or else it would be closed and so, his soul cannot ascend to unite with HaShem.
To me this echoed the words of Mosheh Rabbeinu in the end of sefer devarim, "I can no longer come in and go out." (לא אוכל עוד לבא ולצאת) (Devarim 31:2)
ps. please correct me if I've understood Rebbe Nachman's intent here. (this basically goes for any other Torah as well that I may have misunderstood)
Rebbe Nachman explains that when a soul comes into this world there is only one gate through which that soul can still ascend and unite with HaShem, the gate of emunah. Sometimes, that gate is temporarily closed (on a personal level because of some damage one has done, and a national level because of the culture of sinning that has been reinforced and strengthened) but that is only for a short while. In really extreme circumstances permission is given from on high to shut the gate permanently. In such times someone with true fear of heaven (to my understanding a Tzaddik) puts themselves in the mouth of the gate, and because of their purity, the gate cannot be closed. In this manner, the Tzaddik allows the gate of emunah to remain open, even when Bnei Yisrael doesn't deserve it. The catch, and here is the true mesirut nefesh, is that the Tzaddik can't leave the mouth of the gate or else it would be closed and so, his soul cannot ascend to unite with HaShem.
To me this echoed the words of Mosheh Rabbeinu in the end of sefer devarim, "I can no longer come in and go out." (לא אוכל עוד לבא ולצאת) (Devarim 31:2)
ps. please correct me if I've understood Rebbe Nachman's intent here. (this basically goes for any other Torah as well that I may have misunderstood)
flames of union
It is said about the passuk of Shema Yisrael that it represents the upper union. This union is described as the union between the first two letters of HaShem's name I realized today that שמע ישראל ה אלקינו ה אחד has the gematria 1118 which seems to me it can be broken down like so:
Two candles (נר x 2), man(איש), woman(אישה), and their union(1)
Through the union of a man and woman, the י and ה come together, leaving two fires (אש), to light the two candles (נר) of Shabbath, the perfect completion of the world.
This is the upper union.
Two candles (נר x 2), man(איש), woman(אישה), and their union(1)
Through the union of a man and woman, the י and ה come together, leaving two fires (אש), to light the two candles (נר) of Shabbath, the perfect completion of the world.
This is the upper union.
21.2.08
missing the obvious
A Simple Jew has dealt with Rebbe Nachman's (Likkutei Moharan I:282) Azamra Torah a lot lately. Recently comparing relating the relevancy of the pomegranite, the rimon as an image in which Chazal clothed that Torah.
I wanted to extend the metaphor a little further. If even the lowliest Jew is filled with Mitzwoth like the rimon, then we could look at a rimon to illustrate how we perform Azamra.
First we look past the skin and the first inner layer of fiber. Beneath which we see some beautiful seeds peeking through. The deeper we go, the more seeds we find, but we need to keep digging past the white fiber which still hides most of the contents of the rimon.
When you really want to get at the seeds of the rimon, you don't delicately peel away layer by layer.. you crack that baby in half. All at once the full abundance is visible, and all that was needed was a little more additional brute force in the beginning.
When you try to find the good in another Jew, don't gently peek beneath the surface. Go at it with gusto, jump into the depths and immediately be awed by their spiritual beauty.
When you look at a Jew's actions and try and find something good about them, all you are looking at is the clothing of their soul, not their soul itself. When you look at a Jew's middoth, you are looking at lowest aspects of their soul. When you simply recognize that they are a Jew, you can look directly at their deepest neshamah, the yid/yud, the untaintable essence of their soul.
When we stop to look at a particular aspect of a Jew, we reduce them to a tree, when they are really the forest.
I think this is the secret of (Shir HaShirim 6:3) אֲנִי לְדוֹדִי וְדוֹדִי לִי, הָרֹעֶה בַּשּׁוֹשַׁנִּים - I am to my love and he is to me, he who looks in the shoshanim. (the Notzer Hesed explains that the shoshanah is the uncorruptible essence/point of the Jewish soul) That kind of love only comes by being overwhelmed by the whole, and not by being infatuated with particular specifics.
Ever since I learned the Notzer Hesed's comment/statement/testimony that anything negative you ever hear about another Jew is an outright lie, if I'm judging another Jew harshly, I know it's me who will suffer.
I wanted to extend the metaphor a little further. If even the lowliest Jew is filled with Mitzwoth like the rimon, then we could look at a rimon to illustrate how we perform Azamra.
First we look past the skin and the first inner layer of fiber. Beneath which we see some beautiful seeds peeking through. The deeper we go, the more seeds we find, but we need to keep digging past the white fiber which still hides most of the contents of the rimon.
When you really want to get at the seeds of the rimon, you don't delicately peel away layer by layer.. you crack that baby in half. All at once the full abundance is visible, and all that was needed was a little more additional brute force in the beginning.
When you try to find the good in another Jew, don't gently peek beneath the surface. Go at it with gusto, jump into the depths and immediately be awed by their spiritual beauty.
When you look at a Jew's actions and try and find something good about them, all you are looking at is the clothing of their soul, not their soul itself. When you look at a Jew's middoth, you are looking at lowest aspects of their soul. When you simply recognize that they are a Jew, you can look directly at their deepest neshamah, the yid/yud, the untaintable essence of their soul.
When we stop to look at a particular aspect of a Jew, we reduce them to a tree, when they are really the forest.
I think this is the secret of (Shir HaShirim 6:3) אֲנִי לְדוֹדִי וְדוֹדִי לִי, הָרֹעֶה בַּשּׁוֹשַׁנִּים - I am to my love and he is to me, he who looks in the shoshanim. (the Notzer Hesed explains that the shoshanah is the uncorruptible essence/point of the Jewish soul) That kind of love only comes by being overwhelmed by the whole, and not by being infatuated with particular specifics.
Ever since I learned the Notzer Hesed's comment/statement/testimony that anything negative you ever hear about another Jew is an outright lie, if I'm judging another Jew harshly, I know it's me who will suffer.
the fire within the letters
Those in the know will tell you that the physical world is simply the clothing through which HaShem hides Himself from us. This is hinted at by the word for world, עולם which comes from the root meaning to disappear or to hide. It is through the world that appears before our eyes that HaShem hides from view.
This isn't merely a game of hide and seek, but a means to refine our spiritual essence so that we can withstand the actual experience of HaShem without veils in the world to come.
Just as HaShem clothes Himself in the world, we clothe ourselves in the mitzwoth and in the Torah.
The Noam Elimelech teaches (parashath Hukath) that through focused Torah learning with great mesirut nefesh, self-sacrifice, the Tzaddikim can clothe their desires in the words of the Torah and in this way convince (figuratively) HaShem to fulfill their will.
There is nothing in this world that is not or cannot be clothed in Torah, he goes on to explain, and it is only through clothing something in the Torah through great self-sacrifice that HaShem will grant the will of the Tzaddikim.
Rav Morgenstern in Dei Hochmah l'Nafshech on Bshalach explains how mesirut nefesh (raising up mayin nukvin) is a necesary part of bringing down the divine influx of blessing to us. He goes into how tzaddikim can awaken people to mesirut nefesh.
It occurred to me this morning that when we don't do our part and awaken ourselves to HaShem through self-sacrifice, when we go to the Tzaddikim, we place an additional burden on them, that they must perform the self-sacrifice rather than us.. Which made me realize how much I need to sacrifice myself to the service of HaShem, bear my own weight.
Even if we aren't Tzaddikim, it appears to me that if we clothe our desires in Torah, Tefillah, Tzeddakah and Teshuvah we too can attain HaShem's will, at least when our wants coincide with His. So we should certainly be using Torah as the clothing for all of our Holy desires in all of our prayers.
This isn't merely a game of hide and seek, but a means to refine our spiritual essence so that we can withstand the actual experience of HaShem without veils in the world to come.
Just as HaShem clothes Himself in the world, we clothe ourselves in the mitzwoth and in the Torah.
The Noam Elimelech teaches (parashath Hukath) that through focused Torah learning with great mesirut nefesh, self-sacrifice, the Tzaddikim can clothe their desires in the words of the Torah and in this way convince (figuratively) HaShem to fulfill their will.
There is nothing in this world that is not or cannot be clothed in Torah, he goes on to explain, and it is only through clothing something in the Torah through great self-sacrifice that HaShem will grant the will of the Tzaddikim.
Rav Morgenstern in Dei Hochmah l'Nafshech on Bshalach explains how mesirut nefesh (raising up mayin nukvin) is a necesary part of bringing down the divine influx of blessing to us. He goes into how tzaddikim can awaken people to mesirut nefesh.
It occurred to me this morning that when we don't do our part and awaken ourselves to HaShem through self-sacrifice, when we go to the Tzaddikim, we place an additional burden on them, that they must perform the self-sacrifice rather than us.. Which made me realize how much I need to sacrifice myself to the service of HaShem, bear my own weight.
Even if we aren't Tzaddikim, it appears to me that if we clothe our desires in Torah, Tefillah, Tzeddakah and Teshuvah we too can attain HaShem's will, at least when our wants coincide with His. So we should certainly be using Torah as the clothing for all of our Holy desires in all of our prayers.
20.2.08
kiss kiss
כל הנשמה תהלל י-ה - the whole Neshamah praises God. We repeat this passuk twice in pesukei d'zimra every morning after Ashrei.
Last night I read in Ketem Ofir, (2:9) the Komarna Rebbe's commentary on Megillat Esther, that this passuk has twice the gematria of the word נשיקה, meaning kiss. This passuk, the Komarna Rebbe explains, hints at the very high level of attachment and love the Jewish people feel towards HaShem, and vice versa. So, not only do we hint at these two kisses by saying this passuk every day, we repeat the passuk a second time, to hint at even more kisses.
Kissing is a very high spiritual union, which happens to be the union out of which the Angels were created. To me, it makes sense that this union is referenced here in the morning prayers, in the section that refers to the world of Yetzirah, which is the world of the Angels.
What's interesting though is that on the very next verse, (Megillat Esther 2:10) in which it describes how Esther didn't reveal her nationality or her pedigree, the Rebbe explains why even talking about these things (the secrets of Torah which are the meat of his commentary on the megillah) isn't a problem: The Shechinah, represented by Esther here, wasn't to reveal her secrets until the the end of days, and only on the heels of Moshiah was permission given to reveal the secret and highest level of Torah in the world. Since permission was granted to the Arizal, it is now permitted to learn and teach the inner secrets of the Torah in public, whereas before even great Torah scholars were not always permitted to be involved with them.
Last night I read in Ketem Ofir, (2:9) the Komarna Rebbe's commentary on Megillat Esther, that this passuk has twice the gematria of the word נשיקה, meaning kiss. This passuk, the Komarna Rebbe explains, hints at the very high level of attachment and love the Jewish people feel towards HaShem, and vice versa. So, not only do we hint at these two kisses by saying this passuk every day, we repeat the passuk a second time, to hint at even more kisses.
Kissing is a very high spiritual union, which happens to be the union out of which the Angels were created. To me, it makes sense that this union is referenced here in the morning prayers, in the section that refers to the world of Yetzirah, which is the world of the Angels.
What's interesting though is that on the very next verse, (Megillat Esther 2:10) in which it describes how Esther didn't reveal her nationality or her pedigree, the Rebbe explains why even talking about these things (the secrets of Torah which are the meat of his commentary on the megillah) isn't a problem: The Shechinah, represented by Esther here, wasn't to reveal her secrets until the the end of days, and only on the heels of Moshiah was permission given to reveal the secret and highest level of Torah in the world. Since permission was granted to the Arizal, it is now permitted to learn and teach the inner secrets of the Torah in public, whereas before even great Torah scholars were not always permitted to be involved with them.
19.2.08
the fixings of yesteryear
Today's Tanya makes a great if seemingly discouraging point: Our sins exist outside of time, which means that while in the past we may have made peace with them, they still exist in the present as if we had performed them this very second.
Ouch.
First off, this whole explanation is brought in the Tanya as a way of breaking yourself, intentionally, when you feel like you are distant and cold, when you can't seem to make a connection with HaShem.
So, let's try to envision this in a productive way that might be able to turn this teaching in a way that can inspire us and keep us from getting depressed about the idea of never being able to escape our sins.
In Iggeret haTeshuvah the Baal HaTanya explains that one can think of the six hundred and thirteen mitzwoth as strands of a greater rope that is our attachment to HaShem. Whenever we sin, we damage the related strand, and if our sin is repeated or done with particular disdain, that strand can be broken. No worries though, we still have 612 more strands holding us firmly to HaShem.
Still, because that strand is damaged, our relationship with HaShem is lacking something major. Let's just say it might only be one out of six hundred and twelve, but when each single strand gives us a connection and awareness of the infinite Creator, that's a pretty significant loss.
Also, because this rope links us and HaShem, it transcends time.
Taken this way we can look back on the Baal HaTanya's original comment and understand how it is that our sins are above time and each day, they may cause a lack in our relationship with HaShem anew. Until we retie that strand and re-strengthen it so that it cannot tear again, we run the risk of having to do Teshuvah over and over again. [Presumably this situation described above takes into account Teshuvah from yirah and not from ahavah, which is higher and reseals the breach as if it had never been.]
There remains one more question with our understanding of the Tanya, if it is that David HaMelech discusses this phenomenon as if he has to do teshuvah every day, we cannot assume he never did Teshuvah from Ahavah, but rather I will have to bring the Noam Elimelech to explain how David HaMelech, a Tzaddik, could say that about himself, despite his level.
The Noam Elimelech explains that normal people are bogged down with sin, all the while thinking they are tzaddikim, whereas the Tzaddikim find even their (own) most perfect deeds full of sin and lowliness so that every day the Tzaddik pursues HaShem with renewed intensity and increased vigor. This is a kindness because it inspires the rest of us to recognize our flaws and work to heal them. Here too, David HaMelech, by saying his sin is always before him, inspires the rest of us to seek out our sins and rectify them through ever greater efforts.
The upshot of the Tanya is, on a day where we feel a strong bond with HaShem, we don't need to depress ourselves with these thoughts, and we can safely ignore the Noam Elimelech being beinonim and not Tzadikim ourselves. Still, we can learn from the Tzaddikim that when we feel a strong bond with HaShem and great joy, that we should reinvest that energy into mitzwoth, tefilloth, and Torah study to let HaShem know we appreciate where we are, but we still want more!
Ouch.
First off, this whole explanation is brought in the Tanya as a way of breaking yourself, intentionally, when you feel like you are distant and cold, when you can't seem to make a connection with HaShem.
So, let's try to envision this in a productive way that might be able to turn this teaching in a way that can inspire us and keep us from getting depressed about the idea of never being able to escape our sins.
In Iggeret haTeshuvah the Baal HaTanya explains that one can think of the six hundred and thirteen mitzwoth as strands of a greater rope that is our attachment to HaShem. Whenever we sin, we damage the related strand, and if our sin is repeated or done with particular disdain, that strand can be broken. No worries though, we still have 612 more strands holding us firmly to HaShem.
Still, because that strand is damaged, our relationship with HaShem is lacking something major. Let's just say it might only be one out of six hundred and twelve, but when each single strand gives us a connection and awareness of the infinite Creator, that's a pretty significant loss.
Also, because this rope links us and HaShem, it transcends time.
Taken this way we can look back on the Baal HaTanya's original comment and understand how it is that our sins are above time and each day, they may cause a lack in our relationship with HaShem anew. Until we retie that strand and re-strengthen it so that it cannot tear again, we run the risk of having to do Teshuvah over and over again. [Presumably this situation described above takes into account Teshuvah from yirah and not from ahavah, which is higher and reseals the breach as if it had never been.]
There remains one more question with our understanding of the Tanya, if it is that David HaMelech discusses this phenomenon as if he has to do teshuvah every day, we cannot assume he never did Teshuvah from Ahavah, but rather I will have to bring the Noam Elimelech to explain how David HaMelech, a Tzaddik, could say that about himself, despite his level.
The Noam Elimelech explains that normal people are bogged down with sin, all the while thinking they are tzaddikim, whereas the Tzaddikim find even their (own) most perfect deeds full of sin and lowliness so that every day the Tzaddik pursues HaShem with renewed intensity and increased vigor. This is a kindness because it inspires the rest of us to recognize our flaws and work to heal them. Here too, David HaMelech, by saying his sin is always before him, inspires the rest of us to seek out our sins and rectify them through ever greater efforts.
The upshot of the Tanya is, on a day where we feel a strong bond with HaShem, we don't need to depress ourselves with these thoughts, and we can safely ignore the Noam Elimelech being beinonim and not Tzadikim ourselves. Still, we can learn from the Tzaddikim that when we feel a strong bond with HaShem and great joy, that we should reinvest that energy into mitzwoth, tefilloth, and Torah study to let HaShem know we appreciate where we are, but we still want more!
a worthy quarry
I never thought of repaying a loan as a happy experience, but then when you think about it, it really is, you're happy to finally be freed of the debt and the responsibility that until now was hanging over your head. Anyways, that's the metaphor the Noam Elimelech uses to describe how each Jew is meant to return the Torah to its source, as evidenced by the saying of Chazal in the Talmud: אשרי מי שבא לכאן ותלמודו בידו - praiseworthy is he who arrives here with his learning in hand.
He explains that the Torah is the means by which a Jew can return to His origins, can connect to HaShem. (playing off what we said yesterday) However this is only possible if his learning is performed l'shma, (through great self sacrifice and mesirat nefesh) for the sake of connecting to HaShem and not, heaven forebid, for other motivations.
How is this possible that (1) a Jew can return Torah to its source, (2) that the Torah helps us to return to our source? The Noam Elimelech explains, both we and the Torah were carved out from beneath the HaShem's holy throne, the kiseh haKavod.
This is the meaning of זאת חוקת התורה - this is the place from which the Torah was carved. [carved is from the root חקק, which is an interpretation of the word חוקת]
He explains that the Torah is the means by which a Jew can return to His origins, can connect to HaShem. (playing off what we said yesterday) However this is only possible if his learning is performed l'shma, (through great self sacrifice and mesirat nefesh) for the sake of connecting to HaShem and not, heaven forebid, for other motivations.
How is this possible that (1) a Jew can return Torah to its source, (2) that the Torah helps us to return to our source? The Noam Elimelech explains, both we and the Torah were carved out from beneath the HaShem's holy throne, the kiseh haKavod.
This is the meaning of זאת חוקת התורה - this is the place from which the Torah was carved. [carved is from the root חקק, which is an interpretation of the word חוקת]
18.2.08
hunting for clues
The Noam Elimelech explains further in Parashath Hukath, why it was that the mitzwoth were given, at least in part, without ta'amim, reasons.
He says that HaShem wants us to say the reasons. This, he explains, comes with implicit protection from those who will try to prevent us from performing the mitzwoth be they internal (yetzer hara) or external. (idolators) How is this a means of protection? If the reasons were written down, a crafty adversary would come up with a seemingly reasonable proof for why we shouldn't do mitzwoth, and since we couldn't disprove it, we wouldn't have any defense. Instead, since we say the reasons, if an opponent shoots down a reason, we can always offer up another.
It seems to me that part of the undercurrent of the Noam Elimelech's words revolves around the obvious reality that we are supposed to perform the mitzwoth, reasons as they are might get in the way of observance of the mitzwoth. By not stating the reasons, they are changed from a weakness to a strength: We are encouraged to come up with any reasons that allow us to continue performing the mitzwoth, because that is who we are, that is what we were created to do. (Of course, this is just another 'reason,' feel free to shoot it down and we will come up with something else :) )
HaShem wants us to come up with the reasons. The mitzwoth are our pursuit of HaShem. Through them we cleave to Him and aspire to make ourselves similar to Him. In seeking out the reasons we will come to perform these mitzwoth more intimately, in the hope to strike some connection. L'havdil, we see in television shows how detectives and others seeking out a person will visit their haunts, sit in their chairs, put themselves into the persona of their prey. Similarly, but on a much more basic (and at the same time higher) level, seeking out the reasons, we will go through the motions of the mitzwoth, in order to connect with the rationale behind these (perhaps seemingly random) actions.
He says that HaShem wants us to say the reasons. This, he explains, comes with implicit protection from those who will try to prevent us from performing the mitzwoth be they internal (yetzer hara) or external. (idolators) How is this a means of protection? If the reasons were written down, a crafty adversary would come up with a seemingly reasonable proof for why we shouldn't do mitzwoth, and since we couldn't disprove it, we wouldn't have any defense. Instead, since we say the reasons, if an opponent shoots down a reason, we can always offer up another.
It seems to me that part of the undercurrent of the Noam Elimelech's words revolves around the obvious reality that we are supposed to perform the mitzwoth, reasons as they are might get in the way of observance of the mitzwoth. By not stating the reasons, they are changed from a weakness to a strength: We are encouraged to come up with any reasons that allow us to continue performing the mitzwoth, because that is who we are, that is what we were created to do. (Of course, this is just another 'reason,' feel free to shoot it down and we will come up with something else :) )
HaShem wants us to come up with the reasons. The mitzwoth are our pursuit of HaShem. Through them we cleave to Him and aspire to make ourselves similar to Him. In seeking out the reasons we will come to perform these mitzwoth more intimately, in the hope to strike some connection. L'havdil, we see in television shows how detectives and others seeking out a person will visit their haunts, sit in their chairs, put themselves into the persona of their prey. Similarly, but on a much more basic (and at the same time higher) level, seeking out the reasons, we will go through the motions of the mitzwoth, in order to connect with the rationale behind these (perhaps seemingly random) actions.
the also miraculous
When we encounter something miraculous we recognize it because it is a deviation from the way we expect the world to work. There are two aspects to this: The obvious one is the newness of the event which we had never before witnessed. The second aspect is actually more interesting in that it is usually overlooked: that it is a miracle it hasn't happened until now.
If miracles were commonplace, they wouldn't be comforting or exciting at all, they would be incredibly frustrating. We wouldn't know what to expect, anything can and would happen at any moment. Chaos would most certainly ensue. We wouldn't even know the basics, like where we could safely go, or what not to do. Nature allows us to learn from cause and effect, midah k'neged midah. Nature is a great hesed that HaShem bestows upon us. Each day we experience things that allow us to build expectations, so that we plan and do and grow more. Without the certainty of these "laws" of nature, our life we be a harrowing day-to-day existence.
Beyond this surface-level understanding of nature, anywhere we delve we see that the world is actually full of constant miracles. The hesed is that these miracles are small and localized, so we can observe them and be filled with wonder, while still being able to appreciate the nature of the world. In this way we can come to find the balance between HaShem's intense interest in our personal wellbeing, and His need to let us grow and learn to do things for ourselves.
The blessings we say every day reflect these dual realities:
When things turn out exactly as we expected, we need to thank HaShem, these are the blessings we say each morning. (Birchoth HaShachar) And, when things surprise and awe us, we need to thank HaShem that He took a special interest in us, these are the blessings we say when we see or experience something unusual.
The surprising thing is that we would think that the blessings we say upon something from which we derive pleasure (food for example) (Birchoth HaNehenin) would fall into the first category, the everyday blessings. In truth they are meant to fall into the second category, the blessings on the extraordinary. This is because the particular pleasure we find in these things comes from HaShem directly, and this is totally miraculous. These blessings are meant to acknowledge HaShem's direct concern with our wellbeing. Just as the miracles performed in the desert and in Egypt revealed HaShem's nurturing relationship with Bnei Yisrael, so too the life we derive from the food is an equally miraculous miracle that derives from HaShem's desire to nurture each of us.
If miracles were commonplace, they wouldn't be comforting or exciting at all, they would be incredibly frustrating. We wouldn't know what to expect, anything can and would happen at any moment. Chaos would most certainly ensue. We wouldn't even know the basics, like where we could safely go, or what not to do. Nature allows us to learn from cause and effect, midah k'neged midah. Nature is a great hesed that HaShem bestows upon us. Each day we experience things that allow us to build expectations, so that we plan and do and grow more. Without the certainty of these "laws" of nature, our life we be a harrowing day-to-day existence.
Beyond this surface-level understanding of nature, anywhere we delve we see that the world is actually full of constant miracles. The hesed is that these miracles are small and localized, so we can observe them and be filled with wonder, while still being able to appreciate the nature of the world. In this way we can come to find the balance between HaShem's intense interest in our personal wellbeing, and His need to let us grow and learn to do things for ourselves.
The blessings we say every day reflect these dual realities:
When things turn out exactly as we expected, we need to thank HaShem, these are the blessings we say each morning. (Birchoth HaShachar) And, when things surprise and awe us, we need to thank HaShem that He took a special interest in us, these are the blessings we say when we see or experience something unusual.
The surprising thing is that we would think that the blessings we say upon something from which we derive pleasure (food for example) (Birchoth HaNehenin) would fall into the first category, the everyday blessings. In truth they are meant to fall into the second category, the blessings on the extraordinary. This is because the particular pleasure we find in these things comes from HaShem directly, and this is totally miraculous. These blessings are meant to acknowledge HaShem's direct concern with our wellbeing. Just as the miracles performed in the desert and in Egypt revealed HaShem's nurturing relationship with Bnei Yisrael, so too the life we derive from the food is an equally miraculous miracle that derives from HaShem's desire to nurture each of us.
Shabbath as a value-index
I lost my phone on thursday. I found it sunday morning, but it made for a dettached weekend. On Shabbath my mind wandered to the topic and I reminded myself that I didn't care about the phone, and moved on with Shabbath. This started me thinking though, how much I live for Shabbath, how everything that transpires during the week is a mad rush to stay afloat until the next Shabbath when I can really live again. I thought perhaps I should only value something in terms of how useful it is to me on Shabbath. I still think that's probably true.
Think about it for a minute, what if you really managed your life this way, what if we assigned everything a relative Shabbath-value? It would change our lives drastically. In truth, as Jews, we are meant to value everything in terms of its spiritual potential, but that is still a relatively distant and abstract value-system. In place of that, Shabbath is very concrete. Either you can use it on Shabbath or you can't.
[At this point in the midst of my brilliant flash of insight, I said, wait, what about my Tefillin? I can't really be expected to hold myself to a value system where my tefillin have no value. Well, you will be happy to hear that Tefillin, while it is not a mitzwah to wear your Tefillin on Shabbath, can be worn on Shabbath in specific circumstances. Still, since there's no mitzwah to do so, our new way of looking at value seems to seriously devalue my precious Tefillin.]
We can actually do this same re-evaluation with each and every mitzwah. (In some cases halachah has done this: discussing the value of non-kosher food, etc.) If we were to take this all the way through to its end, we could, through evaluating everything in our lives through the eyes of each of the mitzwoth, arrive at which things have intrinsic value to us, and which are empty mitzwah-calorically.
I can't imagine I would sit around watching TV if I was really aware of how many mitzwoth (613) derive no benefit from my watching it.
Think about it for a minute, what if you really managed your life this way, what if we assigned everything a relative Shabbath-value? It would change our lives drastically. In truth, as Jews, we are meant to value everything in terms of its spiritual potential, but that is still a relatively distant and abstract value-system. In place of that, Shabbath is very concrete. Either you can use it on Shabbath or you can't.
[At this point in the midst of my brilliant flash of insight, I said, wait, what about my Tefillin? I can't really be expected to hold myself to a value system where my tefillin have no value. Well, you will be happy to hear that Tefillin, while it is not a mitzwah to wear your Tefillin on Shabbath, can be worn on Shabbath in specific circumstances. Still, since there's no mitzwah to do so, our new way of looking at value seems to seriously devalue my precious Tefillin.]
We can actually do this same re-evaluation with each and every mitzwah. (In some cases halachah has done this: discussing the value of non-kosher food, etc.) If we were to take this all the way through to its end, we could, through evaluating everything in our lives through the eyes of each of the mitzwoth, arrive at which things have intrinsic value to us, and which are empty mitzwah-calorically.
I can't imagine I would sit around watching TV if I was really aware of how many mitzwoth (613) derive no benefit from my watching it.
17.2.08
nothing to see here
I was learning the translated edition of R' Morgenstern's comments on Parashath BeShalach:
Anyways, I thought R' Morgenstern was going to offer a new insight into the passuk ותמונה אינכם רואים - You have seen no image. The phrasing of this passuk is a little strange and so it can be read/translated with a slight alteration: You saw an image of your nothingness.
In other words, at Har Sinai, it wasn't that we didn't see anything, we actually saw as much as we could see: We saw that we didn't exist at all, we saw that nothing exists--other than HaShem--Even though we still were unable to see HaShem because He is beyond our ability to see. It is like the Rambam (Mishnah Torah:Hilchoth Yesodei HaTorah) explains, we cannot limit HaShem, not in positive (by saying he is all X) or in negative, (by saying he isn't X) all we can do is recognize our inability to quantify Him. By Har Sinai we experienced this limitation, rather than just learning and understanding it.
We saw that we were nothing, we experienced bitul.
At the splitting of the sea the verse says, " ותמונת ה' יביט "—“You haveAnd, I thought he was going to say something that he didn't say, perhaps he implied it. It happens to me a lot, that the greatest (i'm using this term relative to my own level, obviously) chidushim I have are usually things I thought someone else was about to say, but then never did.
seen the image of Hashem (as it were).”8 Matan Torah was a much higher level,
about which the verse says: " ותמונה אינכם רואים "—“You have seen no image.”9
The splitting of the sea was a manifestation of Binah; exalted as it is, the level of
Binah is considered “diminished” or “immature” when compared with the level
of Chochmah, which was the aspect of Matan Torah.
Anyways, I thought R' Morgenstern was going to offer a new insight into the passuk ותמונה אינכם רואים - You have seen no image. The phrasing of this passuk is a little strange and so it can be read/translated with a slight alteration: You saw an image of your nothingness.
In other words, at Har Sinai, it wasn't that we didn't see anything, we actually saw as much as we could see: We saw that we didn't exist at all, we saw that nothing exists--other than HaShem--Even though we still were unable to see HaShem because He is beyond our ability to see. It is like the Rambam (Mishnah Torah:Hilchoth Yesodei HaTorah) explains, we cannot limit HaShem, not in positive (by saying he is all X) or in negative, (by saying he isn't X) all we can do is recognize our inability to quantify Him. By Har Sinai we experienced this limitation, rather than just learning and understanding it.
We saw that we were nothing, we experienced bitul.
the very last day
We have a mesorah, brought down in many different contexts, including the Talmud, the Kabbalah, Hassiduth, and I imagine also Mussar (though I don't have enough mussar experience to know for sure) but I personally saw it first, I think, in the Pahad David (Moadim:Shabbath HaGadol) of Rav David Pinto of Lyonne: One of the most potent weapons we have against the Yetzer Hara, the evil inclination, is to remind ourselves of the day we will die.
Often times we take this idea to mean that all of the pleasures of the physical world will be left behind. This is meant to recallibrate our relative valuation of particular actions and remind us that what we are about to do, although it will probably be enjoyable for the next few minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, or years, is ultimately something finite, and the price is much steeper than we are willing to admit.
That is basically the pshat, the simple understanding of the metaphor: scare yourself out of the craziness you are about to involve yourself in.
I have what I think is a new and slightly different understanding of the metaphor: Even when you know you want something good, to serve HaShem through life and eventually death, what is your death ultimately going to look like?
For me the answer is that I want my death to be as meaningful as possible, please God may it be at the end of 120 years. The only way my death can be that meaningful is if i've already made my life meaningful going into it.
Right now the way I see it is, if I gave my life today, how big would the kiddush HaShem be? Only HaShem can really know that, but would it be bigger if I did just one more mitzwah? Certainly.
So, when I look at the day of my death, it isn't a sad abrupt wake-up call to remind me of how fleeting all these worldly pleasures are, it's an alarm clock reminding me I have a date with destiny and I want to have time to properly present myself.
In the end, when and how I go is up to the sole discretion of He who created me, as R' Haninah ben Teradyon said, "It is better that he who gave me life should take it from me." Yet, whether I face that end a recalcitrant child who doesn't want to go home, or a refined Tzaddik with no wish but to serve HaShem however He wills, that is (at least partly) up to me.
Often times we take this idea to mean that all of the pleasures of the physical world will be left behind. This is meant to recallibrate our relative valuation of particular actions and remind us that what we are about to do, although it will probably be enjoyable for the next few minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, or years, is ultimately something finite, and the price is much steeper than we are willing to admit.
That is basically the pshat, the simple understanding of the metaphor: scare yourself out of the craziness you are about to involve yourself in.
I have what I think is a new and slightly different understanding of the metaphor: Even when you know you want something good, to serve HaShem through life and eventually death, what is your death ultimately going to look like?
For me the answer is that I want my death to be as meaningful as possible, please God may it be at the end of 120 years. The only way my death can be that meaningful is if i've already made my life meaningful going into it.
Right now the way I see it is, if I gave my life today, how big would the kiddush HaShem be? Only HaShem can really know that, but would it be bigger if I did just one more mitzwah? Certainly.
So, when I look at the day of my death, it isn't a sad abrupt wake-up call to remind me of how fleeting all these worldly pleasures are, it's an alarm clock reminding me I have a date with destiny and I want to have time to properly present myself.
In the end, when and how I go is up to the sole discretion of He who created me, as R' Haninah ben Teradyon said, "It is better that he who gave me life should take it from me." Yet, whether I face that end a recalcitrant child who doesn't want to go home, or a refined Tzaddik with no wish but to serve HaShem however He wills, that is (at least partly) up to me.
shabbath garments
Last Shabbath I was thinking about the three garments of our Neshamah, thought, speech, and action and how these garments relate to our observance of Shabbath.
Basically, to my simple understanding it breaks down like this:
In this way, to the best of my understanding, we see that our Shabbath depends on our week.s
Basically, to my simple understanding it breaks down like this:
- שמור את יום השבת - Guard the day of Shabbath. This represents thought, as it says about Yaakov avinu, ואביו שמר את הדבר - [Yosef]'s father guarded the incident.
- זכור את יום השבת - Remember the day of Shabbath. This represents speech, as it says בכל מקום אשר אזכיר את שמי - everywhere that I invoke My Name.
- ששת ימים תעשה כל מלכתך - Six days you will perform all your labor. This represents action.
In this way, to the best of my understanding, we see that our Shabbath depends on our week.s
14.2.08
healing our fathers
Someone asked me recently, though I can't seem to remember the context, (perhaps I dreamed it?) if we could explain a practical reason we don't eat Gid HaNasheh, the sciatic nerve, beyond the explanation given in the Torah that it was where the angel injured Yaakov Avinu.
I think perhaps there is a basis to say that through not eating the Gid HaNasheh, we are actually strengthing and healing Yaakov Avinu's leg. This particular mitzwah is associated with this part of the body, and through performing this mitzwah we are returning our collective soul to this part of the collective body from whence it was driven out.
This is mentioned by-the-way in the beginning of Parashath Hukath by the Noam Elimelech. There he goes on to explain (according to Rashi according to Rabeinu Mosheh haDarshan) that the reason the parah adumah is considered a hok, generally a law with no known reason, is because it is the only mitzwah that does not correspond to a particular part of the the body, neither the 248 limbs nor the 365 sinews. Why doesn't it correspond to a part of the body? Because its sole purpose was to educate the masses about the reality of Teshuvah. In this explanation even the sin of the golden calf only came about in order to create a situation that the mitzwah of the Red Heifer would be revealed such that we all could reveal the great mitzwah of Teshuvah.
I think perhaps there is a basis to say that through not eating the Gid HaNasheh, we are actually strengthing and healing Yaakov Avinu's leg. This particular mitzwah is associated with this part of the body, and through performing this mitzwah we are returning our collective soul to this part of the collective body from whence it was driven out.
This is mentioned by-the-way in the beginning of Parashath Hukath by the Noam Elimelech. There he goes on to explain (according to Rashi according to Rabeinu Mosheh haDarshan) that the reason the parah adumah is considered a hok, generally a law with no known reason, is because it is the only mitzwah that does not correspond to a particular part of the the body, neither the 248 limbs nor the 365 sinews. Why doesn't it correspond to a part of the body? Because its sole purpose was to educate the masses about the reality of Teshuvah. In this explanation even the sin of the golden calf only came about in order to create a situation that the mitzwah of the Red Heifer would be revealed such that we all could reveal the great mitzwah of Teshuvah.
shrinking the vast
This morning, during Shacharit, i pictured the vast universe in all its glory and complexity, i started to think about our place in it and wonder how i could seriously believe all the things i believe when the universe is the way it is?
Doesn't my whole conception and understanding just seem a little too tribal for someone living post-2000 and aware of the wide world beyond the atmosphere?
The simple answer is, well, no. Feel free to get in touch with me for the full-on in-depth process of understanding i went through to return to where i started,* but here i wanted to share a simple idea that was the first and most correct response.
Rav Steinsaltz once dealt with a basic question people often have: We look back on our youth and see a more intense more real devotion than we can muster today. Usually the question is, what happened to me and where did that passion go? His answer is mind-blowing: When things were small, all of our desires and feelings, everything about us fit into this little world which basically began and ended with the walls of our home, of our school. As we mature, our world gets bigger, our awareness gets bigger, what used to suffice for energy and passion in that small space is spread thin in the new and bigger world. (I've discussed this in the past here)
If we don't redouble our efforts and invest this larger world with our desires and intentions, then we seem empty. If we don't bring HaShem into this larger space with us, He will seem distant, beyond our reach.
So, when I was confronted with the vastness of space, the collossal universe, Rav Steinsaltz' words came back to me and I brought** HaShem into that space until the universe wasn't cold and empty but vibrant and buzzing, infused and overfull with the infinity that fails to describe HaShem.
notes:
* there is not a single scientific discovery or understanding that conflicts with the words of Chazal. There is always a realistic and enlightening, (viable would be an understatement) perspective from which the two may be reconciled. More than reconcilliation, this new perspective can offer insights both into science and Chazal.
** we don't bring HaShem anywhere, we recognize that He's already there; but to our perspective, since He wasn't there and now He is, it seems like we brought Him.
Doesn't my whole conception and understanding just seem a little too tribal for someone living post-2000 and aware of the wide world beyond the atmosphere?
The simple answer is, well, no. Feel free to get in touch with me for the full-on in-depth process of understanding i went through to return to where i started,* but here i wanted to share a simple idea that was the first and most correct response.
Rav Steinsaltz once dealt with a basic question people often have: We look back on our youth and see a more intense more real devotion than we can muster today. Usually the question is, what happened to me and where did that passion go? His answer is mind-blowing: When things were small, all of our desires and feelings, everything about us fit into this little world which basically began and ended with the walls of our home, of our school. As we mature, our world gets bigger, our awareness gets bigger, what used to suffice for energy and passion in that small space is spread thin in the new and bigger world. (I've discussed this in the past here)
If we don't redouble our efforts and invest this larger world with our desires and intentions, then we seem empty. If we don't bring HaShem into this larger space with us, He will seem distant, beyond our reach.
So, when I was confronted with the vastness of space, the collossal universe, Rav Steinsaltz' words came back to me and I brought** HaShem into that space until the universe wasn't cold and empty but vibrant and buzzing, infused and overfull with the infinity that fails to describe HaShem.
notes:
* there is not a single scientific discovery or understanding that conflicts with the words of Chazal. There is always a realistic and enlightening, (viable would be an understatement) perspective from which the two may be reconciled. More than reconcilliation, this new perspective can offer insights both into science and Chazal.
** we don't bring HaShem anywhere, we recognize that He's already there; but to our perspective, since He wasn't there and now He is, it seems like we brought Him.
13.2.08
reality check
It never occurred to me before that if i want to know how i'm doing, i stop and look in the mirror. What I should be doing is stopping and asking myself whether i'm really aware of HaShem.
What could be more silly than looking at the surface to try and figure out what my current situation is, rather than looking directly at the essence?
What could be more silly than looking at the surface to try and figure out what my current situation is, rather than looking directly at the essence?
a universal how-to
I wanted to build on and discuss the previous post conflicting tasks. The intellect, as it stands has certain attributes, particular strengths and weaknesses which we know differ from person to person but are more or less common to all people. Almost everyone learns how to read and speak, to perform arithmetic, to think rationally in one form or another, to understand hints, to throw and catch, to make jokes. Yet, being that the mind is limited and must handle many complex tasks, it specializes in a few and becomes passably proficient in a larger group. As far as modern science is concerned, we go through various stages of mental growth and though we can always learn new tasks and ideas, the overhead and effort necesary to learn in later years is far greater than in youth.
The Judaic and Torah view of this is vastly different. With regard to Torah specifically we acknowledge that it always arrives as a gift from heaven. One's age or mental acuity is irrelevant, Torah is open to all to master. There is no point short of death that prevents one from being able to master the Torah. The only prerequisite to enter into the gates of Torah is the will to connect to HaShem, the unrelenting will to keep diving deeper into the sea of Torah. This is so extreme that the Gemara makes a blanket statement that anyone who claims he tried and failed to master Torah should no be believed. If s/he really tried, they would have succeeded.
Rebbe Natan explains in Likkutei Halachoth (Hilchoth Tefillin 6:37-42) that while our body is impure, our intellect is incomplete, and until our body is worked like the leather of the tefillin, until there is no further repugnant smell, then our intellect cannot be trusted. Instead we must bind our will and emunah to the Tzaddik, whose body and intellect are refined so that he may guide us. For the spiritual intellect is something else entirely than the natural intellect which we relate to.
Since it would seem that real comprehension in Torah is dependent not on our natural intellect, but on our spiritual intellect, the only thing that limits our accomplishments in Torah is our devotion to the task.
In this way, we can understand how multi-tasking is virtually impossible with our natural intellect. Still, through deep study of the Torah we may begin to access our spiritual intellect which is not constricted and bound by the same worldly limitations that make multi-tasking a challenge. When we see things in this light, it starts to become clear why things that may seem impossible become entirely elementary when we connect ourselves to Chazal and rely on their testimony to the real possibility.
Shabbath is a perfect example. Someone who grew up in a Shomer Shabbath environment barely needs to think in order to avoid performing all 39 melachoth and their many many derivatives. Yet if you were to explain what keeping Shabbath entailed to an outsider, they might easily think that such a rigorous level of observance is impossible.
What I'm trying to get to is that performing even the most complex of the mitzwoth in the Torah has more to do with (1) accepting the yolk of heaven, (2) relying on and trusting in the Rabbis throughout the ages, and (3) faith in HaShem that He will bring about your success than it does any particular mental or physical aptitude.
The Judaic and Torah view of this is vastly different. With regard to Torah specifically we acknowledge that it always arrives as a gift from heaven. One's age or mental acuity is irrelevant, Torah is open to all to master. There is no point short of death that prevents one from being able to master the Torah. The only prerequisite to enter into the gates of Torah is the will to connect to HaShem, the unrelenting will to keep diving deeper into the sea of Torah. This is so extreme that the Gemara makes a blanket statement that anyone who claims he tried and failed to master Torah should no be believed. If s/he really tried, they would have succeeded.
Rebbe Natan explains in Likkutei Halachoth (Hilchoth Tefillin 6:37-42) that while our body is impure, our intellect is incomplete, and until our body is worked like the leather of the tefillin, until there is no further repugnant smell, then our intellect cannot be trusted. Instead we must bind our will and emunah to the Tzaddik, whose body and intellect are refined so that he may guide us. For the spiritual intellect is something else entirely than the natural intellect which we relate to.
Since it would seem that real comprehension in Torah is dependent not on our natural intellect, but on our spiritual intellect, the only thing that limits our accomplishments in Torah is our devotion to the task.
In this way, we can understand how multi-tasking is virtually impossible with our natural intellect. Still, through deep study of the Torah we may begin to access our spiritual intellect which is not constricted and bound by the same worldly limitations that make multi-tasking a challenge. When we see things in this light, it starts to become clear why things that may seem impossible become entirely elementary when we connect ourselves to Chazal and rely on their testimony to the real possibility.
Shabbath is a perfect example. Someone who grew up in a Shomer Shabbath environment barely needs to think in order to avoid performing all 39 melachoth and their many many derivatives. Yet if you were to explain what keeping Shabbath entailed to an outsider, they might easily think that such a rigorous level of observance is impossible.
What I'm trying to get to is that performing even the most complex of the mitzwoth in the Torah has more to do with (1) accepting the yolk of heaven, (2) relying on and trusting in the Rabbis throughout the ages, and (3) faith in HaShem that He will bring about your success than it does any particular mental or physical aptitude.
land ho!
In honor of Mosheh Rabbeinu's Yahrtzeit, (7 Adar) i'll mention something i came across yesterday. The Hesed L'Avraham explains that when HaShem originally promised the land of Israel to Avraham's children, He promised him ten lands. When the Jewish People were brought out of Egypt, HaShem gave them only the lands of the seven canaanite nations. Rav Azulai explains that the remaining three lands represent the mind/sechel, while the seven lands represent the seven middoth and the body. It is for this reason that Mosheh Rabbeinu was buried outside of then-current Israel, in part of the three lands, because Mosheh represents the aspect of Da'ath, knowledge, part of the mind rather than the body.
After the final Geulah, R' Azulai adds, the three remaining lands will become part of the land of Israel as well, [and HaShem's promise to Avraham will be complete.]
After the final Geulah, R' Azulai adds, the three remaining lands will become part of the land of Israel as well, [and HaShem's promise to Avraham will be complete.]
let's eat in
Rebbe Nachman (Likkutei Moharan I:129) gives over an amazing Torah about Emunah, believing in Tzaddikim, and dwelling in the land of Israel:
He explains that when we eat something, it is transformed into a part of us. In this way we raise up the plants and the animals to the level of m'daber, by transforming its very matter into part of us, part of a speaking person.
This is what it means when the Torah says that the Land of Israel devours those that dwell in it, we are consumed by the land and are elevated to become of the same nature as the Land itself.
The nature of the Land of Israel is Emunah, and so when we are consumed by the land, we become pure Emunah, for this reason, someone who walks four amoth in the land of Israel is said to be without sin.
Similarly, the Tzaddik is intimately connected with the Land of Israel, until he himself is called the Land, [similar to how a Tzaddik is called Shabbath, it would seem] and so being close to the Tzaddik means that he too consumes you and you become elevated to the status and nature of the Tzaddik.
This is all only possible if we have a true desire to connect to HaShem, just as food that cannot be digested will be rejected by the body, so too, has v'shalom, someone who has no desire to connect to HaShem will be rejected by the Land.
If we do have a true desire to connect to HaShem, then we must feed our body to our soul, so that our soul consumes our body, as we explained above, and our body is elevated to the level of our soul.
Even further, we must feed ourselves to our Emunah, so that we may become Emunah incarnate and connect to the Tzaddikim, and dwell in the Land of Israel.
These are very novel concepts but I don't think it is so distant from us to accomplish, or so difficult to digest, pun intended. When we speak about feeding ourselves to our soul, or our Emunah, we are talking about whether we are exhausting our Emunah and our Soul to meet the needs of our body, or we are exhausting our body to meet the needs of our Soul and our Emunah.
As is taught many places, (I saw it first in the Tanya, I believe) our body is the wick, upon which our soul burns. If our body is bent to the service of our soul, then the body becomes the clothing, and the chariot for the desires of our soul. If, has v'shalom, the opposite is true, then since the soul is what animates the body, the soul is forced to serve as the lowly servant of the body, helping it to obtain its desires. The deeper lesson of Rebbe Nachman is that through this service, the lowly body can be digested and transfigured into the holy stuff of the soul itself.
He explains that when we eat something, it is transformed into a part of us. In this way we raise up the plants and the animals to the level of m'daber, by transforming its very matter into part of us, part of a speaking person.
This is what it means when the Torah says that the Land of Israel devours those that dwell in it, we are consumed by the land and are elevated to become of the same nature as the Land itself.
The nature of the Land of Israel is Emunah, and so when we are consumed by the land, we become pure Emunah, for this reason, someone who walks four amoth in the land of Israel is said to be without sin.
Similarly, the Tzaddik is intimately connected with the Land of Israel, until he himself is called the Land, [similar to how a Tzaddik is called Shabbath, it would seem] and so being close to the Tzaddik means that he too consumes you and you become elevated to the status and nature of the Tzaddik.
This is all only possible if we have a true desire to connect to HaShem, just as food that cannot be digested will be rejected by the body, so too, has v'shalom, someone who has no desire to connect to HaShem will be rejected by the Land.
If we do have a true desire to connect to HaShem, then we must feed our body to our soul, so that our soul consumes our body, as we explained above, and our body is elevated to the level of our soul.
Even further, we must feed ourselves to our Emunah, so that we may become Emunah incarnate and connect to the Tzaddikim, and dwell in the Land of Israel.
These are very novel concepts but I don't think it is so distant from us to accomplish, or so difficult to digest, pun intended. When we speak about feeding ourselves to our soul, or our Emunah, we are talking about whether we are exhausting our Emunah and our Soul to meet the needs of our body, or we are exhausting our body to meet the needs of our Soul and our Emunah.
As is taught many places, (I saw it first in the Tanya, I believe) our body is the wick, upon which our soul burns. If our body is bent to the service of our soul, then the body becomes the clothing, and the chariot for the desires of our soul. If, has v'shalom, the opposite is true, then since the soul is what animates the body, the soul is forced to serve as the lowly servant of the body, helping it to obtain its desires. The deeper lesson of Rebbe Nachman is that through this service, the lowly body can be digested and transfigured into the holy stuff of the soul itself.
12.2.08
adar aleph 6: shacharit: comfort and joy
One key to serving HaShem is to take great joy in the knowledge that you are a vessel for His Will whenever you are involved in a mitzwah.
conflicting tasks
One of my friends mentioned an article to me about how humans are bad at multi-tasking and how we really should avoid it at all costs. I rejected the idea immediately pointing out that the challenge of multi-tasking isn't really performing multiple tasks at once, it's breaking the tasks into meaningful chunks and strategising about how best to overcome those chunks, as efficiently as possible. Still the thought has been lurking around in the back of my mind, and lately I've started to apply it to my understanding of Judaism.
HaShem demands multi-tasking from us, and this is actually one form of mesirat nefesh that is easy to overlook. There is a lot of cognitive dissonance in Judaism. There are numerous mitzwoth that we are commanded to perform all the time. Yet, we have a principle that when we are involved in one mitzwah, we are patur or free from the responsibility to perform another. Still, at the same time, there is a principle that we shouldn't pass over one mitzwah in favor of another. So how would we ever get from one all-of-the-time mitzwah, to the next? Not to mention when will we ever find time to do the mitzwoth that pertain only to a particular event or moment in time?
In truth, in the halachic framework, which is a truly perfect framework, I don't believe you will find any actual paradoxes. The structure doesn't violate itself. Yet to reach the level of understanding this perfection, and being able to perfectly navigate the sea of Torah at each and every moment is the intense work of a lifetime. If we don't work at it every day, we can be sure we won't get there.
In the cases mentioned above, mitzwoth of limited duration and pertaining to a particular moment in time take precedence over mitzwoth that are applicable all the time, to the best of my knowledge. Also, while we are patur from one mitzwah while involved in another, it doesn't mean we are forebidden to be involved in two mitzwoth simultaneously as is obviously possible when we say Shema Yisrael while wearing tefillin and tzitzith.
The point is not all of the fine detail in determining priorities in all of our mitzwoth throughout the day, that is literally the job of the halachah, instead I'm pointing out that it is a given that HaShem expects a Jew to multi-task. We can't pick one mitzwah and perform that to the exclusion of all the rest, we have to do them all, all 613.
This is not to say that we can't focus on particular mitzwoth, or that it is not important to focus on a mitzwah when we are involved in it, all I'm saying is that when Mosheh Rabbeinu told us לא בשמים היא - it is not in the heavens, one of the things he was telling us is that multi-tasking is possible.
Perhaps one important difference is that it might be that the human intellect is incapable of multi-tasking. However, when we bend our will to the performance of the mitzwoth and the service of HaShem, the nature of the world alters and makes room for what might otherwise be impossible.
A good example of this is what the Hesed L'Avraham (3:2) explains about the time of the Mishkan. When we left Egypt, the Shechinah wanted to dwell amongst us, but because of the great sins throughout many generations of mankind, the klippoth petitioned the high court of heaven claiming that the Shechinah should only be allowed to come down to dwell on Israel through the natural order, by first being clothed in the klippoth. This of course would mean that most of the blessing and divine outpouring would be siphoned off to the other side. Instead in this instance, because of the merit of the fathers of Israel, and their leaders, and because of the infinite mercies of HaShem, the Shechinah punctured a hole through the klippoth, defying the natural order, and dwelled with Israel until they arrived at the Holy Land, where the klippoth have no permission to enter.
HaShem demands multi-tasking from us, and this is actually one form of mesirat nefesh that is easy to overlook. There is a lot of cognitive dissonance in Judaism. There are numerous mitzwoth that we are commanded to perform all the time. Yet, we have a principle that when we are involved in one mitzwah, we are patur or free from the responsibility to perform another. Still, at the same time, there is a principle that we shouldn't pass over one mitzwah in favor of another. So how would we ever get from one all-of-the-time mitzwah, to the next? Not to mention when will we ever find time to do the mitzwoth that pertain only to a particular event or moment in time?
In truth, in the halachic framework, which is a truly perfect framework, I don't believe you will find any actual paradoxes. The structure doesn't violate itself. Yet to reach the level of understanding this perfection, and being able to perfectly navigate the sea of Torah at each and every moment is the intense work of a lifetime. If we don't work at it every day, we can be sure we won't get there.
In the cases mentioned above, mitzwoth of limited duration and pertaining to a particular moment in time take precedence over mitzwoth that are applicable all the time, to the best of my knowledge. Also, while we are patur from one mitzwah while involved in another, it doesn't mean we are forebidden to be involved in two mitzwoth simultaneously as is obviously possible when we say Shema Yisrael while wearing tefillin and tzitzith.
The point is not all of the fine detail in determining priorities in all of our mitzwoth throughout the day, that is literally the job of the halachah, instead I'm pointing out that it is a given that HaShem expects a Jew to multi-task. We can't pick one mitzwah and perform that to the exclusion of all the rest, we have to do them all, all 613.
This is not to say that we can't focus on particular mitzwoth, or that it is not important to focus on a mitzwah when we are involved in it, all I'm saying is that when Mosheh Rabbeinu told us לא בשמים היא - it is not in the heavens, one of the things he was telling us is that multi-tasking is possible.
Perhaps one important difference is that it might be that the human intellect is incapable of multi-tasking. However, when we bend our will to the performance of the mitzwoth and the service of HaShem, the nature of the world alters and makes room for what might otherwise be impossible.
A good example of this is what the Hesed L'Avraham (3:2) explains about the time of the Mishkan. When we left Egypt, the Shechinah wanted to dwell amongst us, but because of the great sins throughout many generations of mankind, the klippoth petitioned the high court of heaven claiming that the Shechinah should only be allowed to come down to dwell on Israel through the natural order, by first being clothed in the klippoth. This of course would mean that most of the blessing and divine outpouring would be siphoned off to the other side. Instead in this instance, because of the merit of the fathers of Israel, and their leaders, and because of the infinite mercies of HaShem, the Shechinah punctured a hole through the klippoth, defying the natural order, and dwelled with Israel until they arrived at the Holy Land, where the klippoth have no permission to enter.
waiting our way to salvation
Being a Jew, and being in this world, olam haZeh, is all about mitzwoth, right? That's what I thought, and in truth, that's correct. But... The Baal HaTanya (yesterday and today in the daily Tanya) and the Noam Elimelech (end of Parashath Korah) both go to lengths to discuss how much there is to do beyond the mitzwoth.
The Noam Elimelech explains that the way a Tzaddik needs to sanctify himself through food, drink, and money is even greater than his sanctification through Torah. Why you might ask? Because the Torah is already holy and the dark side doesn't have much sway in the realm of Torah. Physicality on the other hand is rife with challenges of the dark side, and so, through proper holiness in food, drink, and money, one can greatly sanctify himself. [update: for the record, The Noam Elimelech says specifically that this is true of the Tzaddik, but for the rest of us, the avodah we do in our tefillah and Torah is more important.]
The Baal HaTanya actually gives us a hint as to how to draw close, as simple beinonim, to the level of the Tzaddik: By delaying (for even a short while) our desires for things which are permitted to us, we can make ourselves a little bit holy, and in exchange we are aided with much holiness from above, so much so that eventually we will even be able to push off the yolk of the dark side entirely. For those keeping score, that would mean we would be able to reach the level of Tzaddik.
update: we mentioned in the past something from Rav Steinsaltz that is relevant here as well, about berachot being the perfect oppurtunity to delay just a little our desires.
The Noam Elimelech explains that the way a Tzaddik needs to sanctify himself through food, drink, and money is even greater than his sanctification through Torah. Why you might ask? Because the Torah is already holy and the dark side doesn't have much sway in the realm of Torah. Physicality on the other hand is rife with challenges of the dark side, and so, through proper holiness in food, drink, and money, one can greatly sanctify himself. [update: for the record, The Noam Elimelech says specifically that this is true of the Tzaddik, but for the rest of us, the avodah we do in our tefillah and Torah is more important.]
The Baal HaTanya actually gives us a hint as to how to draw close, as simple beinonim, to the level of the Tzaddik: By delaying (for even a short while) our desires for things which are permitted to us, we can make ourselves a little bit holy, and in exchange we are aided with much holiness from above, so much so that eventually we will even be able to push off the yolk of the dark side entirely. For those keeping score, that would mean we would be able to reach the level of Tzaddik.
update: we mentioned in the past something from Rav Steinsaltz that is relevant here as well, about berachot being the perfect oppurtunity to delay just a little our desires.
11.2.08
lot of the pious
From the Talmud (Masechet Berachot) we learn that the early Hasidim (more than a thousand years before the Baal Shem Tov, so don't get confused) would prepare an hour before they prayed, and an hour after they prayed. These saintly people, according to the Noam Elimelech (Parashath Korah) would ready themselves by binding themselves to HaShem so that He would bind Himself (figuratively) to them. Then they would pray, and finally in the hour of afterwards, from this place of utter oneness they would ready themselves to receive great pleasure from the pleasure this unity brings (again figuratively) to the Holy One blessed be He.
HaShem's pleasure is the actual blessing that the Tzaddikim bring down into the world. Like the Kohanim, the Tzaddikim have no direct lot amongst Bnei Yisrael, they don't pray for themselves, rather they pray for Bnei Yisrael and their lot is in the pleasure they derive from the pleasure they bring (yes, figuratively) HaShem. This is similar to the Kohanim who receive the lion's share of the blessing that HaShem showers down upon His chosen people, but don't have a particular inheritance in the land of Israel.
HaShem's pleasure is the actual blessing that the Tzaddikim bring down into the world. Like the Kohanim, the Tzaddikim have no direct lot amongst Bnei Yisrael, they don't pray for themselves, rather they pray for Bnei Yisrael and their lot is in the pleasure they derive from the pleasure they bring (yes, figuratively) HaShem. This is similar to the Kohanim who receive the lion's share of the blessing that HaShem showers down upon His chosen people, but don't have a particular inheritance in the land of Israel.
adar aleph 5: minha: dust in the wind
Dust is so small and light it is practically nothing. While we are much greater and more significant than a grain of dust, we are stuck literally in the dust, on the ground. Dust, by virtue of its smallness is not bound in this same way, the wind comes and often stirs up the dust and away it flies.
When we return ourselves to dust, when we recognize our insignifigance in the face of HaShem, then the spirit of HaShem can come along and waft us away to the highest worlds carry us off to the most distant places.
We can't force our way to closeness with HaShem, but when we recognize that HaShem is in control, He fills us with His spirit, raises us up, and brings us close. This is ruah haKodesh.
When we return ourselves to dust, when we recognize our insignifigance in the face of HaShem, then the spirit of HaShem can come along and waft us away to the highest worlds carry us off to the most distant places.
We can't force our way to closeness with HaShem, but when we recognize that HaShem is in control, He fills us with His spirit, raises us up, and brings us close. This is ruah haKodesh.
adar aleph 5: shacharit: coming and going
The Tefillah is broken into 7 stages, three steps up, the Amidah, and then three steps down. First, from the world of Asiyah to the world of Yetzirah, then to Beriyah, then to Atziluth for the Amidah. After the Amidah we start going back down again, first to Beriyah, then to Yetzirah, then to Asiyah, where we are located.
It is important to put in kavanah in the end of the tefillah as well as the beginning. In the beginning we rise up to the highest world and there we beseech HaShem to shine down His blessings upon the world. Then we return through the worlds, bearing His blessing with us. If we awaken the divine Will to bless us, but we don't bring the blessings down here, the affects of our prayer won't be as visible or as strong. For this reason we must maintain our kavanah even after the Amidah, the Shemonah Esrei, and not just rush quickly through to the end so that we can get on with our day.
We can see this in the final part of the Tefillah, Aleinu, in which we thank HaShem that we bow before Him, King and Master of the universe, and not before powerless invented gods. If we arrive at Aleinu full of the kavanah of our prayer (meaning we brought the blessings back down through all the worlds) then we aren't saying empty words when we acknowledge HaShem's great might, rather we are testifying to the reality before our eyes.
To maintain kavanah for even in a short time during prayer can be very difficult, so I suggest a small kavanah which I believe the Rabbis alluded to: The three steps we take forward before the Amidah, and the three steps we take after the Amidah can be used to focus these ideas. Even if you didn't manage to focus until you reached the Amidah in your prayers, when you take the three steps forward, have in mind to alight through the three upper worlds, Yetzirah first, then Beriyah, then Atziluth. When you take the three steps back at the end of the Amidah, have in mind to bring the fruits of your prayers back down with you first to Beriyah, then Yetzirah, and finally Asiyah.
It is important to put in kavanah in the end of the tefillah as well as the beginning. In the beginning we rise up to the highest world and there we beseech HaShem to shine down His blessings upon the world. Then we return through the worlds, bearing His blessing with us. If we awaken the divine Will to bless us, but we don't bring the blessings down here, the affects of our prayer won't be as visible or as strong. For this reason we must maintain our kavanah even after the Amidah, the Shemonah Esrei, and not just rush quickly through to the end so that we can get on with our day.
We can see this in the final part of the Tefillah, Aleinu, in which we thank HaShem that we bow before Him, King and Master of the universe, and not before powerless invented gods. If we arrive at Aleinu full of the kavanah of our prayer (meaning we brought the blessings back down through all the worlds) then we aren't saying empty words when we acknowledge HaShem's great might, rather we are testifying to the reality before our eyes.
To maintain kavanah for even in a short time during prayer can be very difficult, so I suggest a small kavanah which I believe the Rabbis alluded to: The three steps we take forward before the Amidah, and the three steps we take after the Amidah can be used to focus these ideas. Even if you didn't manage to focus until you reached the Amidah in your prayers, when you take the three steps forward, have in mind to alight through the three upper worlds, Yetzirah first, then Beriyah, then Atziluth. When you take the three steps back at the end of the Amidah, have in mind to bring the fruits of your prayers back down with you first to Beriyah, then Yetzirah, and finally Asiyah.
10.2.08
dollar signs in front of our eyes
When I was younger I remember thinking a lot about the following question: If the Torah is the brightest truth in the world, how could any lie conceal it? wouldn't it shine through?
Rebbe Nachman provides (Likkutei Moharan I:133) a really great illustration: Just like the sun is massive and brilliant, but still each day the earth hides it away, and just like a coin held close to your eye can blot out a giant mountain many thousands of times its own size; so too, this physical world is a tiny barrier right in front of us that occludes the tremendous sea of Torah which greatly dwarfs the entire world.
He goes on to say, just as we can simply move the coin away from our eye and behold the tremendous mountain, if we look away from this little world and all of its enticements, we will merit to see the enormous light of the Torah and the Tzaddikim which is many hundreds of thousands of times greater.
Rebbe Nachman provides (Likkutei Moharan I:133) a really great illustration: Just like the sun is massive and brilliant, but still each day the earth hides it away, and just like a coin held close to your eye can blot out a giant mountain many thousands of times its own size; so too, this physical world is a tiny barrier right in front of us that occludes the tremendous sea of Torah which greatly dwarfs the entire world.
He goes on to say, just as we can simply move the coin away from our eye and behold the tremendous mountain, if we look away from this little world and all of its enticements, we will merit to see the enormous light of the Torah and the Tzaddikim which is many hundreds of thousands of times greater.
cinching the knot
The Noam Elimelech brings down (parashath Korah) that Tefillin represent the bond between HaShem and His People. This bond, he explains, is such that however much we bind ourselves to HaShem, He cleaves to us (k'vyachol) in a similar fashion.
This is how he explains יפה שעה אחת בתשובה ומעשים טובים בעולם הזה - literally: One hour of teshuvah and good deeds in this world is better [than the enjoyment of the world to come.] He says it means that any moment when we bring unity between HaShem and His People (through Teshuvah and mitzwoth) is beautiful to HaShem.
This is a unity that is uniquely applicable to this world. As the Ba'al HaTanya explains that this world allows our souls to experience HaShem thoroughly, on a higher level [ie. more directly] than all the experiences of the upper worlds.
This is how he explains יפה שעה אחת בתשובה ומעשים טובים בעולם הזה - literally: One hour of teshuvah and good deeds in this world is better [than the enjoyment of the world to come.] He says it means that any moment when we bring unity between HaShem and His People (through Teshuvah and mitzwoth) is beautiful to HaShem.
This is a unity that is uniquely applicable to this world. As the Ba'al HaTanya explains that this world allows our souls to experience HaShem thoroughly, on a higher level [ie. more directly] than all the experiences of the upper worlds.
Tzaddikim in the depths
Rebbe Nachman explains (Likkutei Moharan I:132) how it is that the reputation of a Tzaddik can change from place to place:
The Tzaddik is like a spring who sometimes flows underground and emerges in another place. So it can be that a Tzaddik is well-known and appreciated in one place, unknown in another place further away and yet greatly respected and adored in a still further place.
He also points out that although the spring doesn't emerge in certain places, it still nourishes the deep roots of that place. In other words, even in a place where a Tzaddik is unknown, the place itself greatly benefits from the Tzaddik's existence.
The Tzaddik is like a spring who sometimes flows underground and emerges in another place. So it can be that a Tzaddik is well-known and appreciated in one place, unknown in another place further away and yet greatly respected and adored in a still further place.
He also points out that although the spring doesn't emerge in certain places, it still nourishes the deep roots of that place. In other words, even in a place where a Tzaddik is unknown, the place itself greatly benefits from the Tzaddik's existence.
7.2.08
alpha Torah cloud
here's a very alpha peek at my Torah Cloud.
It's sort of a tag cloud that contains every word in the Humash, sized relative to how often it appears. Looks a little better in IE, but in Firefox, hovering over a word will give you the number of times it appears in Humash.
very alpha, numbers might not be perfect, it's a work in progress.
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