mitzwoth as smoke signals

[I gave this dvar Torah on Zot Hannukah 5770.]

Hannukah is to a year what Tikkun Hatzot is to a day. In the depths of the darkness we remember the deepest light of the world, the light of the Holy Temple, the revelation of the Highest in the lowest. (God in this world)

Rebbe Natan explains that the first mitzwah given to the Nation of Israel is the mitzwah of [seeking and] proclaiming the new moon is (Likkutei Halachot, very begining) because that is the essential purpose of the Jew, to seek out the spark of light in the darkness.

When we proclaim the new moon, the new month, Rosh Hodesh, the Mishnah [Rosh HaShanah 2:4] describes what that used to be like: They would light fires on the hilltops to signal to those far away that the new moon had been seen and the new month had begin. Rosh Hodesh is a very holy celebration we have each and every month.There were huge feasts and celebrations in the Temple each Rosh Hodesh.

When the signal fire reached the tallest hilltop visible to all those Jewish communities outside of the land of Israel they would wave the fire back and forth up and down until they saw answering fires throughout the exile. (throughout the rest of the surrounding countries) The words used are beautiful: They would wave the fire back and forth until the whole exile was alight like one giant bonfire. Think about that imagery: one little light, waving until the whole world seems to be filled with a roaring answering flame.

That's Hannukah.

One little candle waving until the whole world is alight with the revelation of Godliness.

That's every mitzwah, as we are taught, נר מצוה ותורה אור, a mitzwah is a candle.

That's what it means to be a Jew. To seek out that little bit of light, in every occasion, in every place, in every person and wave that little spark of a candle until the whole world is going up, alight in the flames of Godliness.

veins of torah run deep

When scholars delve into the history and development of Judaism, especially the development of Torah alongside Judaism, one can't help but marvel at how much was lost along the way, at every stage.

The Komarna explains in the opening words of the Notzer Hesed that none of what Mosheh Rabbeinu received from the mouth of God on Har Sinai could be transmitted. (Every word would take more than seventy years to explain)

On the day Mosheh Rabbeinu died, Yehoshua forgot thousands of halachot.

The codifying of the Tanach left out a number of books from that time period. The hashing out of the mishna left a tremendous body of baraita in its wake. The Talmud is but the smallest drop of the knowledge of the Amoraim, whatever could be committed to text, and whatever we haven't lost of that over the years.

This says nothing of the thousands, maybe tens (hundreds?) of thousands of sefarim that have since vanished from the world. (We're not even going into the secrets of the Torah, we have maybe seven extent chapters (Sefer Yetzirah) from the book of Adam rumored to have at least five hundred.)

Beyond all that, even of the Torah we have maintained to this day, volumes seemingly without end, so much of it has transitioned from Torah with practical application (only in the most literal sense, chas v' shalom that someone should think it needn't be learned) to Torah for its own sake. So many practices and Halachot are no longer performed or held today, either from chumrot, kulot, or different minhagim.

But really, if you think about it, it isn't so shocking.

There are some who might look at all this and see evolution, survival of the fittest, or even a readjustment of norms to meet the expectations of modern society, but I believe that is foolishness at best.

The reality is that yes, it's entirely organic, but in a way our everyday short-sighted view couldn't begin to comprehend.

When we look at the entire Jewish people as comprising a single body, one organism that persists throughout time as well as space, we recognize the deeper meaning of the identification of these generations as the heels--the ends of the feet. It begins to dawn on us, from this perspective, that just as there are veins, arteries, sinews, nerves and more that connect the feet with the rest of the body, there are many more veins, arteries, sinews and nerves, that don't quite reach the feet, many, if not most, never even come close.

If Torah is an integral part of the Jewish body, the life force of this body, then the abundance of Torah centralized in the head (Mosheh Rabbeinu and his generations) and the chest (the Mishna/Talmud and their generations) makes the Torah in the feet almost negligible by comparison.

So, rather than being shocked and appalled by what has become of our Torah, we can begin to understand the role and part our Torah in our day plays in the greater timeless body of Israel and Torah.

the peace of the wise

וכל המקים את דברו רוח חכמים נוחה הימנו
anyone who keeps their word brings solace to the wisemen.

This is the final statement in Masechet Shevi'it, the mishna which discusses the laws of the Shemitah year. The Shemitah year is the seventh year in a repeating seven year cycle in which we are commanded to let the land lay fallow.

More relevant to this particular quote is that all debts between people are to be (automatically) forgiven/forgotten upon the arrival of the Shemitah year. The quote praises those who pay their debt in any case, because then lenders won't be affraid to lend out money to those in need during the sixth year in the cycle. The quote is actually a more general phrasing praising everyone who keeps their word because when people keep to their word, there is no need for disputes in court. Everyone is honorable.

Keeping our word, being upstanding and honorable Jews brings peace to the Hachamim. Since we are overcoming our nature, it seems natural that we are bringing peace to the world and this in turn brings peace to the Hachamim.

I think another reading of this same phrase may be: "all those who keep HaShem's Word, Which is to say all those who keep the Torah, the spirit of the Hachamim rests upon them."

We find this in a number of places, especially in the stories of the Talmidim of the Arizal (whose hillulah is tonight and tomorrow) who merited the ibur of (the impregnation of their soul with the soul of another) a tzaddik from the earlier generations (the Tannaim or Amoraim) because of their extraordinary performance of a particular mitzwah.

seeing the temple in our days

via HaMikdash:

The Holy Chafetz Chaim writes: "…Presently it is difficult to find Kohanim who know the laws and practices of the fully. How disheartening and embarrassing. It sadly indicates that our prayers for the and the Service are merely lip service, not real or heartfelt. For if we really desired it to come, we would prepare and make ready for it.

He makes a really good point, and I can tell you for myself (though I am not a Kohain) that there is really nothing that makes you feel more connected to the Beit HaMikdash than reading through the descriptions of (especially the daily) rituals that were performed there. The Rambam discusses everything there is to know about the Beit HaMikdash in great detail. (Sefer Avodah (in hebrew) (summary of its topics in english) , Sefer Korbanot (in hebrew) (summary of its topics in english))

Also, in Masechet Midot (daily english translation(its been discontinued but if you root around it looks like it's all still there)) in the mishnayot they discuss a lot about the daily function of the mishkan.

I can't give you all the sources in the talmud, simply because it's all over the place and I don't know where to find them.

B'hatzlacha!

the dust of their feet are the souls of your home

The Shechinah, God's divine presence in the world, is often depicted as a hen hovering over her chicks; caring for her children, protecting her nest. The Notzer Hesed (1:4) explains the mishna:
יהי ביתך בית ועד לחכמים - let your house be a house of gathering for wisemen. like so: You should make the Schechinah your house. The Schechinah is referred to also as a house of gathering because all take shelter beneath her and are nourished by her. So he explains the deeper lesson to be learned from this saying is that one should make their permanent dwelling with the Shechinah, and not get caught up in a physical house.

This is something difficult to comprehend, and (I imagine) once comprehended, even more difficult to put into words, so lets look a little at Parashath Yitro where the Maor Eynayim explains why it is that we fall, and how to recover from such falls. (See this recent post for a reference to the same Maor Eynayim) He says that in order for us to attain a new level, we must first experience a fall. There's no such thing as growing without first being challenged. (Rav Kook also says something very similar, in fact the previous sentence is actually a paraphrase of what Rav Kook said.) So, when HaShem wants to give us a new and more elevated level, we first experience a fall, and cling with our emunah to God from this new lower place. When we cling to God he actually lifts us up and returns us not to our former level, but to a new and higher level.

We can actually see this referenced in the Amidah. In the second beracha which is about redemption, we have the phrase מקיים אמונתו לישני עפר - he upholds his emunah to those who sleep in the dust. This, the Notzer Hesed (if I recall correctly) says, is talking about the fallen sparks of holiness, the fallen neshamoth, the fallen souls. As we've said before, when we fall to these low places, it is a mission God has sent us on to retrieve these fallen souls. How do we retrieve them? By serving God with what is available to us on these lowered levels. By reconnecting to God through our faith that God will redeem us, we are revived and re-elevated, as we said above. If we look more closely at the phrase from the Amidah, we can reread it like so: Who raises up his emunah, for the sake of those who sleep in the dust. (ie. the fallen souls) God raises us up again out of these lows in order to raise up those sparks that were lost in the dust.

Coincidentally? The next sentence of the mishnah in Avot 1:4 is: והוי מתאבק בעפר רגליהם - strive in the dust of their feet. Be involved in raising up the fallen souls.

Essentially, Make the Shechinah, the revellation of God, whatever that revellation currently is, your dwelling place, and struggle there to restore the fallen souls you find along the way.

stopping to smell the roses

"Space Cadet" raises a question (via A Simple Jew) re: the mishna that says someone who stops in the midst of his torah study and says 'what a beautiful tree' is mitchayev b'nafsho. He brings up Rav Tzvi Yehudah Kook who elaborates:

only when one interrupts his study does it pose a threat to his life, but if he connects the beauty of the tree back to its creator and recognises that this is simply an extension of his learning, then there is no problem. (paraphrased)

I just wanted to point out a parallel, namely that this isn't the only mishna that mentions someone being mitchayev b'nafsho and in another instance, Rebbe Nachman of Breslov turns the whole mishna on its head and says that mitchayev b'nafsho is actually a good thing, it means he is assuming responsibility for his own existence, a kind of maturation process. He is mitchayev his own existence. He is causing his continued existence.

Always important to learn the Hassidut in order to see the world on its head. Otherwise we forget how complicated it is, and how thorough our own preconceived notions.