borrowed vessels

There's an idea, sort of a visual, that I've held for some time and it basically illustrates the point of our avodah. It explains why and how our actions in this world directly reflect our reward in the world to come.

Picture this, the sum total of your being is an empty vessel. It's a very crude empty vessel. What's it supposed to hold? Compressed light. Light, infinite light, under unimaginable pressure such that it will be contained within this now-empty vessel. The problem is this: You, the crude vessel, are riddled with imperfections. There's no way you could possibly survive the pressure of being filled. Before we can get to the purpose of the vessel, being filled, containing something, we need to perfect and complete this crude vessel.

That's this life, this world, perfecting the vessel. The world to come is what happens when the vessel is filled, or fulfilled. In our daily lives, with each mitzwah we seek out, we are hunting down those imperfections in the vessel and polishing them with the intense heat of Ahavat HaShem and Yirat Shamayim. Every now and then, the more the vessel is perfected, it is tested with the most minute amounts of light. Filled ever so slightly, so that the stresses on the vessel will reveal even more subtle imperfections. This is life, the revelations of Godliness, and the challenges of our daily toil, all to become a master craftsman, in hebrew that's an אומן, and complete the vessel. (I believe it was the Pri Ha'aretz that points out that Emunah shares the same root as Oman, a craftsman, because Emunah is something we perfect through constant effort.) 

Today I came across the Noam Elimelech (Parashath Ekev) who fleshed out and sourced the idea nicely. He said that our Ahavah and Yirah coupled with our mitzwoth are what make the vessel a proper vessel. Then, just as when someone comes to you and asks you to borrow some oil or wine, they bring with them a vessel to carry the oil or wine back, in the very same way, we bring HaShem this vessel, and He fills it with His light and returns the vessel to us. This is the meaning of the verse מה ה' אלוקך שואל מעימך?  - What does HaShem your lord [borrow] from you? HaShem 'borrows' the vessel from you, fills it with His light, and returns it.

fear the vessel

In Pirkei Avoth we learn that Yirah (fear/awe) must preceed one's Torah learning.

In the Midrash, we learn that HaShem created the world initially out of Din, (judgement/might) and then joined it with Rahamim. (Mercy)

The Ramhal (Rav Mosheh Hayyim Luzzato) along with other mekubalim, (like R' Immanuel Hai Reiki in Mishnath Hasidim) explains that this Gevurah (Din) is the initial Tzimtzum that created the empty space into which the world was created. As they explain, the Tzimtzum is the root of the creation of the kli, the vessel.

It seems to me that the reason our Yirah must precede our learning, our Hochmah/wisdom, is because we need to create the vessel first that will contain our learning.

The Notzer Hesed explains that learning the secrets of the Torah, in the Zohar and the recorded writings of the Arizal, gives us proper Yirah. He says that even young children should be educated in these secrets so that they will have proper Yirah.

From this we can perhaps even understand that the learning that we do that is not l'shmah (for its own sake) still leads to learning l'shmah, because it creates the vessel for our future learning. How does it create the vessel? Through our learning, we see how much we don't know, we learn that there is so much still to learn, we get the smallest glimpse of just how great HaShem and His Torah are. This brings us to awe, which creates the vessel for our future learning.

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.

inheriting emunah

The Pri Ha'aretz hit me pretty hard, the one we quoted recently from Hayyei Sarah. How could it be that everything we're accomplishing ends up feeding the other side? That's depressing, no matter how many victories we have we're still going to screw up tomorrow. At least until we're perfect tzaddikim, which is hard to imagine (for me at least) that this is a milestone within reach.

How can we take away from this a useful lesson that we can apply daily in our lives?

First of all, whenever we say the first berachah of the Amidah, it has a whole new meaning. Magen Avraham--HaShem protects Avraham--from falling to the yetzer hara, through Avraham's emunah and yirah, fear of heaven.

This understanding also gives us hope, because Avraham had no zchut avot to rely on. It was just him versus his yetzer. We, on the other hand, have Avraham's emunah and yirah as a yerushah, an inheritance from our father Avraham. When we are faced with a test of emunah, we can simply say, well, of course I can overcome this test, I have Avraham Avinu's emunah to guide me.

writing is scary

I did a Q&A over at A Simple Jew.

You will have to head over there for the answer, the question is mirrored here:

A Simple Jew asks:

Each year as we review the Chumash, we continue to be baffled by just how quickly the Jews started complaining after they witnessed miracles as they left Egypt and crossed through the Yam Suf.

One could argue that we too are often blind to recognize the continuous miracles that Hashem performs in each of our lives, yet the miracles in the Chumash seem to us to be on a much grander scale than those in our lives.

We may ridicule the Jews in the desert for their lack of emuna, but then when we turn around and judge ourselves by a similar standard, do we measure up to our standard, or are we also just a bunch of wandering complainers?

It was a harrowing experience. It's scary enough writing on my own blog with a very limited readership--much more intense writing for ASJ who has a much larger audience.

Scary because what if I confuse some people, what if I make their lives more complicated instead of helping? Ironically the answer addresses just such a question. go see

living in fear

In the Tur, on the halachot of Tefillin (32:20?), he mentions that if a Sofer writes tefillin without proper kavanah, then someone will use those tefillin, blessing upon them every day for their whole lives, each time taking HaShem's name in vain (chas v'shalom) without knowing it, and never be properly keeping the mitzwah of Tefillin. What follows is that all of this multitude of sins (chas v'shalom) will be on the Sofer's head. Therefore, he concludes, a Sofer needs to have tremendous Yirat Shamayim, fear of heaven.

From this I learn that we need to be aware of our actions that take on a life of their own. Not everything we do vanishes after it is done. Some things carry on, persist, infect and affect others.

Still, we have no choice but to continue to act and do and live. These necesitates two things, great Yirat Shamayim, and also great Emunah. We have to have faith in HaShem always that He is guiding us to good things, and protecting us from what we can't and don't know. (Similar to what the Nodah b'Yehudah said in the story about him found on A Simple Jew)

coasting on awe during the dips

Avraham Avinu doesn't know us, and Yaakov Avinu won't recognise us. But Yitzhak Avinu puts himself between us and God when we're misbehaving. (Something you will see if you look at the discussion in the Talmud which can be found at Shabbat 89b) He actually works some interesting mojo until between his own act and God's mercies, we are 100% absolved of any culpability. How can this be? Yitzhak Avinu represents the midah of din, the attribute of judgement, whereas Avraham is the midah of Hesed (kindness) and Yaakov the midah Rahamim. (mercy)

The Maor Eynayim (on parashath VaEra) will field this one. He says that one who connects to God only out of love never really learns to know the Creator. And one who doesn't ever serve God through his fear can never be familliar with Him, can't recognise Him, because he's never seen him. This is why it says that Avraham doesn't know us, and Yaakov won't recognise us. Recognition and Knowledge are two relationships with HaShem that are both predicated on serving Him out of fear and awe, a relationship that is exclusively the realm of Yitzhak Avinu.

Once we relate to God out of fear (gevurah/din) then we can go on to relate to him out of love (Hesed) and from there we can graduate to a more complete and mature relationship, the level of Yaakov Avinu, the face to face (פנים אל פנים) level of recognition.

It is our service out of fear and awe that is our lifeline when we are being tested, it keeps us going even when our spiritual reservoirs are parched, it is through this emunah in God's all-powerfulness over us that we are able to coast with whatever energy we have left through the test of the moment, and through it, find renewed energy on the other side.

(Kind of like those old nintendo racing games where your momentum had to get you over the finish line when the time ran out, what a rush.)

study guide: what's better than cliffsnotes, brainstorming, or mnemonics?

The Maor Eynayim (Parashath Shemoth) relates about the Baal Shem Tov that when he wanted to know anything at all, be it something esoteric, or something mundane, Godly matters, or worldy, he would open up a sefer and learn. Through his learning and intense cleaving to God through the Torah, he would pierce through to the heart of the Torah, the supernal light that was hidden away at the time of creation for the Tzaddikim, which allows one to see from one end of the universe to the other. In this way he was able to know anything that is, was, or will be.

This is a tremendous level, one associated with the Bnei Aliyah, (the ones who ascend) as we mentioned before. But it is also such a novel and profound perspective on the world. He had so much emunah and such a kesher (connection) with God, that he trusted and knew that whatever information he would need would be present in the Torah he was learning. Learning has the potential to be just such a level of communication and union with HaShem that we might see the truth that He provides for all our needs fleshed out before our eyes.

The key is fear of God, as we said before. The knowledge, the Torah, always comes as a gift. It is regarding this that the Talmud says, "הכל בידי שמים חוץ מיראת שמים" (Everything is in the hands of Heaven, outside of fear of Heaven.) [There are (obviously) deeper levels in this simple phrase than I have the ability to pierce.]

Update: the Maor Eynayim adds that this level is attainable by any person, because each person has a piece of the Moshiah in them, and by connecting to that piece that is called לעתיד לבא 'for the future to come.' I wanted to say something about how this level was attainable to all, in my very humble estimation, but because I didn't have a source for it, I left it out. Now that I found that the Maor Eynayim does in fact say it. Try it out. If you can't understand something, or are puzzled by something, instead of thinking about it, learn Torah with the honest intention of connecting to HaShem and seeing the truth of the matter there, in the unity of the hidden light of Torah.

princes and paupers

The Maor Eynayim from Chernobyl, in his commentary on parashath Shemoth, brings R'Shimon in masechet Shabbat 111a:

כל ישראל בני מלכים הם - all of Bnei Yisrael are sons of kings

He explains, R'Shimon truly entered the gate of yirah, awe of God, and was on such a level that, like the son of a king, he was freely welcomed into all of the King's (ie. God's) chambers. He was on such a level that when he looked at others it appeared that they too were on this level.

The Rabbis didn't hold by R'Shimon's oppinion, when it came to determining the halachah (the way) because this is not the way of the world, the Maor Eynayim concludes.

Even though we aren't on R'Shimon's level, I need to add that it is so important in the here and now to treat those around us with the utmost respect, because, although we aren't on the level to perceive it, they really are the sons and daughters of the King of kings.

In the Talmud the nations actually acknowledge this basic truth: in the discussion I translated and quoted part of the other day, while the other nations are arguing with God about whether or not the Jews kept the Torah, HaShem says that he will testify on their behalf, and the nations shoot this down, "you are their father, and a father is forebidden from testifying on behalf of his children, as it says in the Bible, ישראל בני בכורי" (Israel is my first born son)

We are all the children of the King, and as such, we also have the right to an audience with him, and to request from him all that we need, just as a child would ask/beg/demand of their father.