Where is that street, where is that house?

A spot on the map.

From Prince in Prison:

"It's only 3:30 a.m.," said the man to himself, "and they've already brought in so many people tonight. So many people! Our comrades are working overtime. Me, too: four hours overtime!"
    He turned to me and asked: "Where are you from?"
    "I come from a little town," I said. "I don't know if you've ever heard of it. I was born in Lubavitchi. On one side there's the Rudnia train station between Vitebsk and Smolensk, and on the other side the Krasnoya station between Orsha and Smolensk."
    "Lubavitchi?" said the young man. "I know it well, I know it well. I’ve been there as a child. It's not so small: it had a big market place, right? And two houses of prayer,” he said thoughtfully. “And do you know Gusin?"
    I knew Gusin, its railway station, the surrounding villages. Many of my acquaintances lived there — Jews, of course. I did not know the local squires or landowners or villagers, for I had no contact with them.
    It now became clear that my earlier guess that this man was a gentile who came from those southern regions was correct.
    He continued, overwhelmed by memories: "The family of a holy man, I remember now, lived near the market place of Lubavitch, in a big courtyard in which there was a well with good water. Every time I visited the market place with my father I always ran to have a drink of water there, and we used to take water for our horses, too."
    "Yes, yes!" I responded, and my heart beat faster at the awakening of old memories. This was certainly a remarkable encounter, but who could tell whether this conversation would prove to my advantage or not? I almost decided to go to the head office.
    As I stood up I said, "I have to go to the head office."
    "Sure," said the man. "I'll go with you and show you what to do and with whom to speak. Have you been here before? Do you know what has to be done? Can you write?"
    "This is my first time here," I answered. "I don't know what I have to do nor what I have to write."
    "There are secretaries over there," he explained. "They'll ask the questions and write down whatever you answer. When you've filled out the questionnaire they'll escort you to the examination room. There they will take from you whatever is superfluous for a prisoner - your money, watch, and so on. You will then be handed over to one of the warders who will take you to the officer in charge of a certain wing, and you will sit in one of his cells."
    I rejoiced that G-d's mercy had given me the strength not to be alarmed by his words. I had evidently accustomed myself to my current situation and hoped to G-d that I would be able to maintain myself properly; that I would not allow Judaism to be trodden upon; that fearing no wicked or violent man, I would be able to transform my former firm decision into reality. [...]

* * *

What a lofty thing is the simple inner faith that every Jew inherits from our Patriarchs, the fathers of the world! How great is the power of complete trust! They are not only the foundations of our faith but also the foundations of every Jew's ordinary material life.
    "Give thanks to G-d for He is good!" Through His lovingkindness the opportunity arose for me to make a wrong turning into this corridor, which proved to be a refuge, a shield against the net of intimidation which Nachmanson and Lulov prepared for me.
    Divine Providence led me like that well-known bit of straw or that leaf, which is blown hither and thither by the wind. I was like them, but even more so, since the realm of the medaber [“the speaker”] is loftier than the vegetative realm; moreover, those who possess a holy [Jewish] soul are of higher standing than other members of the mortal realm. In a word, I was in the hands of Divine Providence.

The hat

From here:

In the last years, when the health of the Rebbe [Rayatz] was far from perfect, a certain public functionary once arrived in the middle of the week, not at the regular time for yechidus, in order to speak with the Rebbe. When I entered the Rebbe [Rayatz]'s study in order to inform him of his arrival, the Rebbe stretched out his hand to put on his hat, an effort which cost him considerable exertion. I assured the Rebbe that it would not matter to that functionary if he would receive him with only a yarmulke on his head.

“But to me it does matter,” replied the Rebbe.

I think there are multiple ways of understanding this story and multiple lessons that can be drawn from it. One of which is: Hashem may be ok with you saying a brocho or davening to Him without a second head covering (He will still accept you prayers). But you shouldn’t be.

(This reminds me of a story about the Kotzker Rebbe, iirc. He always knew what his chassidim’s thoughts were, and if someone at his tish had bad thoughts, the Rebbe would scream at him. So, one time a chossid had a bad thought in the presence of the Kotzker Rebbe and immediately regretted it, anticipating being screamed at. But then he thought: “Hashem surely knows my thoughts too. And yet He seems not to mind. Why then does the Rebbe mind?” The Kotzker Rebbe answered: “Hashem can take it. I can’t.”)

This does not just apply to the hat, by the way (and also with the hat, it’s not about the “shtick”, but about what stands behind the hat). And not just to davening. Hashem is rachamim, merciful. He will tolerate all kinds of behavior. But each one of us should be disgusted with himself for taking advantage of that.

Frierdiker Rebbe on “Modern” Judaism

Founders of the German communities, see what fruit has grown from the tree you have planted. You killed all positive feelings; you caught them like fish in a net. You squeezed out any juice. You exchanged the honor of Torah—of Jewish wisdom—for the games and idols of the non-Jews. The soul of G–d has been ripped from them. Who has wrought this shame? Was it not done in the name of the Torah, stirred together with alien thoughts? Who asked you to do this? What spurred you to do this? It was only the thirst for secular sciences, the wisdom of Jepheth, which has now completely consumed the Torah of Shem.
— Frierdiker Rebbe

It’s very interesting to me that if one reads Mendelsohn’s writings (sometimes quoted in Hirsch Chumash), one doesn’t see anything too problematic. Most of the times he sounds a bit MO; oftentimes, of all the sources quoted (in that particular instance, Ramchal and a few contemporary Jewish philosophers), his thoughts are the most chassidish ones (e.g., he says that fulfillment of a mitzva is more important than understanding of it — yep, the same Mendelsohn).

An exerpt from the letter by the Previous Lubavitcher Rebbe about him and the long-reaching effects of his on German Judaism. As always, both the content and the form are amazing.

The point of the letter is relevant to today’s American Jewry as never before. Don’t tell me that the imagery that the above quote paints is not familiar to you. One doesn’t have to use labels to feel it.

V’atoh tetzaveh — the role of the Rebbe

[I am bringing this post up.]

Rabbi Paltiel’s lessons on the ma’amor V’atah Tetzaveh (also available from Kehos), the ma’amor we learn for Purim.

Frierdiker Rebbe’s Bosi LeGani was the most important ma’amor that he left for the chassidim after his histalkus. It was the ma’amor of the Rebbe’s generation — and the Rebbe revealed it in his Bosi LeGani’s.

V’atah Tetzaveh is the most important ma’amor for us, right now, post–gimmel tammuz. It’s the Rebbe’s message for us.

The famous explanation is that in this parshah, Moshe’s name is not mentioned and intstead he is called “atoh” (“you”), because when he said, “Take me out of your book” (if G-d decides to destroy His people, G-d forbid), he expressed his essence — his union with the Jewish people. Moshe Rabbeinu was a Rebbe. Rosh Bnei Yisroel.

The Rebbe takes this idea further and deeper. In what way was Moshe Rabbeinu the head of Jewish people?

The ma’amor talks about the role of a Rebbe, the Moshe Rabbeinu of the generation — to bring the oil of our souls, squeezed out by golus, to Hashem. To make Hashem real for us. It was Moshe Rabbeinu’s job to ask: “Are you Jews because of G-d, or are you Jews because you live in the miraculous circumstance, where Torah is obvious? Take a couple steps outside — will you still be Jews?”

That’s the advantage of Purim — then the question needed not to be asked. Jews were ready to do mesirus nefesh — for a whole year! — following the leadership of Mordechai and Ester, their example of mesirus nefesh. But then the question was: who is doing mesirus nefesh? Is it your G-dly soul, or is it you? In other words, it’s all very good to become machines and, when faced with a question “Will you bow down to idols or die?”, have revelation of ahavah mesuteres (hidden love) and answer, numbly, with the supra-conscious levels of your soul overriding all intellect and emotion, “Die”. But did this revelation of the essence of your soul penetrate the lowest levels of your soul? Surely not. They were merely suppressed.

So, this is the job of our generation. To allow the essence of our souls to be revealed, but, at the same time, penetrating even the lowest levels of our soul, not suppressing and destroying them. (And this, in turn, will lead us to bring about the state of affairs when G-d’s Essence is revealed in the lowest worlds, but does not destroy them.)

* * *

On the one hand, we have it comfortably. We are free from persecution. We are free to sit at homes, in our yeshivas, learn Torah all day. As some people say, things have never been better. Not just materially — spiritually.

And this view is the evidence that we are in the darkest golus. What are you happy about? The fact that you can sit all day and learn Torah? Have an amazing spiritual experience? Work on your avoida, your closeness to Eibeshter? Is this why the world was created? Where is the Beis Hamikdosh, where is revelation of Hashem in this world, where is ein od milvado and dira b’tachtoinim? (OK, I am done with the longest string of questions in my writing experience.)

This is the job of the leader of our current generation. To show this. To bring Hashem to us, make Him real, show Him in the Torah, in the mitzvos, in the world. And make golus real. Show what we are currently lacking — what we need to strive for with all our strength. The Essence.



May we reveal to ourselves and to the world this idea during the Shabbos and Purim. As one rabbi says, “It’s a very serious business — to be joyous.”

About shirayim

I heard a story over Yom Kippur. Why am I telling it now? a) Because I started sinning again. b) I remembered it after reading the beard post on Basement Blogging (if you’re going to spend time reading it, read also the comments).

A little background [if not interested, skip to the story below]: In most Chassidic groups, the Rebbe eats a little bit from his plate, and then his Chassidim come and take a peace for each. The source of this comes from the idea that everything that a tzaddik owns becomes holy too, since tzaddikim serve Eibeshter on the level of b’chol meoidecho (“with all your might”), which means that ther serve Hashem with everything they do, own or touch — and impart the essence of themselves on this. (Which is why, incidentally, Yakov Avinu had to return for the little vessels.)

So, whatever the Rebbe partakes of becomes holy. And then his Chassidim partake of it to attach themselves to the Rebbe.

Well, for number of reasons, this is not a custom of Chabad Chassidim. In short, you attach yourselves to the Rebbe b’pnimiyus, not b’chitzoinius. By studying his teachings (which the Rebbe makes accessible for the Chassidim), not by holding on to his gartel. Even though elements of attaching oneself to the Rebbe through chitzoinius also exist in Chabad (after all, chitzoinius is part of the equation), pnimiyus is the ikkar.

Anyway, the story goes that a Jew from a different Chassidic background became a Lubavitch chossid, but did not know yet that in Chabad they don’t do shirayim. So, when he was in the presence of the Frierdiker Rebbe, as soon as the Rebbe started eating, he came over and attempted to take some food from the Rebbe’s plate. The Rebbe smiled at him and gave him the shirayim and then said: “By others, getting shirayim is a privilege. By us, getting shirayim is also a responsibility.”

* * *

Which brings me back to the topic of shaving. When my boss started wearing a beard (which he doesn’t wear anymore), one of my colleagues jokingly remarked that everybody else should shave. A similar idea exists, lehavdil, in certain communities. Only the rabbi wears a beard, since it is considered to be the honor, and everyone else shaves (with electric razor) or trims.

In Lubavitch, this idea is not considered to be appropriate for a few reasons:

Specifically about the beard —
1) Shaving or trimming down the beard is halachically forbidden due to a teshuva of Tzemach Tzedek, since shaving makes one to be like women. More about it here.
2) Since beard is a symbol and a counterpart (in human body, which is created “in the image of G-d”[’s spiritual “body” or “interface” in the upper worlds]) of Thirteen divine Attributes of Mercy, it does not make sense to cut the hairs of the beard. More about it here.
3) Beard is a sign of fear of Heaven (especially Lubavitch beard, which is clearly not worn for stylistic reasons). In the same famous teshuva, Tzemach Tzedek paskens that if a shochet moves from Russia to Germany and start removing his beard, one may not buy his meat (since he apparently experience a lowering of yiras shomayim), even though one may buy meat of the German shochet who had always shaved. More about it (and in general about the beard) here.

About the idea of setting the leader apart —
4) We honor the Rebbe by following his example. The Rebbe is set apart by the fact that we consider his opinion on Yiddishkeit and life in general a law and his teachings a recipe for bringing this world to its goal and purpose — revelation of G-dliness in this world with coming of Geula. Not by some external shtick.

A gutt morgen

(An iPhone desktop background. Source)

Alter Rebbe says in the famous ma’amor that we find that G-d is evident to all people from the fact that everyone mentions him. In addition, Baal Shem Tov used to go around marketplace and ask Jews how they were doing just to hear “Baruch Hashem”.

The Rebbe explains in this year’s (last year’s?) Bosi LeGani that through tehillas Yisroel — simple Jews’ praises of Eibeshter — the middas ha’netzach (the desire of victory) is aroused. Middas ha’netzach is connected with a simple desire for victory — not for the purpose of riches, territory or political influence, but just the victory itself.

That simplicity is reflected in a simple Jew’s “baruch Hashem”. It is also reflected in the Мoideh Ani — the first praise of Hashem that the Jew makes. He is not awake yet, he doesn’t know in which world he is, and yet already he is saying “adaynk” to Eibeshter. What happens next? His yetzer ha’rah wakes up. (More on Мoideh Аni. More on tehillas yisroel.)

On Simple Jew’s (I just got that, by the way) post about Slonim Chassidus, one commentor says: “Frankly, I don’t know what our generation’s path is.” During the Yud-Shvat farbrengen (that I am still to put up), somebody said: it’s praising Hashem in the marketplace. Letting Hashem in everyday aspects of our life. Living every day with Shulchan Aruch. That’s our path.

If that’s true, it’s both an uplifting and terrifying thought.

[If you thought this post was lame, I only really wanted to post that picture. So, lechayim, lechayim.]

Dead pages of Gemara

It is amazing how Frierdiker Rebbe’s stories are no less important and poignant today than they were 100 years ago in his time, or 300 years ago in Baal Shem Tov’s time.

There are two types of people who learn Gemara on a subway. Those who elevate the subway and those that lower the Gemara. How do you know which one you belong to? Are you learning Hashem’s Will and Wisdom or are you learning a detective story about oxes and cows?

Alter Rebbe writes in one of his letters that one who lacks bittul, whenever he doesn’t understand something in a work of nigleh — he is right, and the seifer is wrong. When a chossid doesn’t understand something — he is wrong, and the seifer is right. This, the Rebbe says, is what Ramac (Reb Moiseh Cardovero) meant that someone who doesn’t learn pnimiyus of Torah (Kabbala — and, in our times, Chassidus) is a heretic. What he meant is that he has a very good chance of becoming a heretic.

Knowing Shas be’al’peh never prevented someone from becoming an apikoires. It is very difficult to see how someone can learn in depth and understand Chassidus Chabad and not see Hashem in Torah and in the world.

Now, on with The Making of Chassidim:

They had been singing for quite some time when Reb Mordechai reached a high level of excitement and began to deliver a fiery lecture on the subject of "a mitzvah done without its inner intent is like a body without a soul."

In concise terms, Reb Mordechai explained to them what avodah is all about; for without avodah, all the Torah that they studied and all the mitzvos that they did amounted to no more than lifeless corpses.

"A vast cemetery!" declared Reb Mordechai, looking at the young scholars, including Reb Sholom Ivansker's sons-in-law, and particularly at the foremost scholars among them. "A vast cemetery filled with the corpses of your dead pages of Gemara is what you've built up in the World of Truth. You lead the sages of the Talmud around bound up in the chains of your vanity and arrogance.

"The only thing any one of you is concerned with is that people acknowledge that you are right; each one desires to be known as the foremost scholar; none of you cares about the true essence of Torah - that the Torah is the Word of G-d. How much longer will this sinful situation continue? Young fellows," the maggid cried out in a tearful voice, "take pity on yourselves and on your own souls that have entered your bodies to perfect the world around you.

"[It is written]: 'Bathe yourselves and purify yourselves, ... study well, seek out justice.' [The meaning is] 'bathe yourselves' - wash away your haughty spirits; 'purify yourselves' - become cleansed of your arrogance; 'study well' - put your soul into your study; 'seek out justice' - apply whatever you study in judging your own conduct, and determining whether your behavior conforms to the character traits demanded by the Torah you are studying."

Reb Mordechai related how the Baal Shem Tov had sent a great scholar and tzaddik, the Rabbi of a large congregation, to a butcher, to learn the trait of fearing G-d; another great scholar and tzaddik, who had lived a solitary and chaste life for many years, was sent to the shammes of a beis hamedrash to learn the trait of humility.

"The Rebbe," said Reb Mordechai, "is very fond of the simple Jews, with their unpretentious davening and Tehillim. The Rebbe, the Baal Shem Tov, says that the most unsophisticated Jew is an eternal, untapped treasury of faith and trust in G-d, and possesses the finest character traits."

All the while Reb Mordechai was speaking, Reb Chayim sat and wept silently. Reb Mordechai's lecture comparing mitzvos without their inner intent to a body without a soul affected him greatly. Having sat for so many years in the grave diggers' beis hamedrash, and having attended so many funerals (may we be spared), an image of the faces of several corpses had remained engraved upon his mind. Now when Reb Mordechai compared study without vitality to a corpse without a soul, and he spoke about the cemetery of the dead pages of Gemara that they had studied, Reb Chayim was deeply moved.

In his imagination he pictured the cemetery for the pages of the Gemara, and a chevrah kadishah of angels performing the funeral rites for the dead pages. As Reb Mordechai continued speaking, Reb Chayim, lost in the crowd and crammed among the people, continued to weep. The more Reb Mordechai spoke words of arousal, the more bitterly Reb Chayim cried. When Reb Mordechai reached the part about "take pity on yourselves and on your own souls, that have entered your bodies to perfect the world around you ... bathe yourselves ... purify yourselves," Reb Chayim began weeping violently; this made a deep impact upon all who were present in the beis hamedrash.

Most of the people assembled in the beis hamedrash took special delight in Reb Mordechai's stories about how the Baal Shem Tov held simple Jews in such high esteem, and even sent great scholars to simple Jews so they could learn good character traits from them. The Baal Shem Tov's saying, that "Every Jew, even the most unsophisticated, is an eternal untapped treasury of innocent faith and trust in G-d," became etched in everyone's mind and heart.

Suddenly, Reb Mordechai remembered where he had been at that same time a year earlier, and he began singing a passionate niggun, one of those that were regularly sung at the Baal Shem Tov's table. This particular niggun was called the "Search and Find" niggun. It consists of three movements, and each movement contains three themes. The first theme of the first movement of the "Search and Find" niggun depicts a mood of solitude, creating an image of someone sitting isolated in a field deeply hidden among the mountains, next to a blue stream of running water. In the distance, at the other end of this valley, appears a rocky precipice upon which a few sparse trees grow; here, the singer sits alone and sings his song of solitude.

The second theme depicts a mood of introspective meditation; the solitary singer becomes more introverted, debating with himself and subjecting himself to rigorous self-examination. The longer he sings, the more deeply introverted his thoughts become; he is dissatisfied with himself, and begins to discover certain flaws in his own character. Now comes the third theme, in which the singer breaks into weeping - at first silently, but becoming progressively more intense.

The niggun's second movement also contains three themes; although they differ in sequence and key, they possess a common motif: a song of searching and of longing. This movement creates an image of a person searching for some elusive object for which he longs. Suddenly, he perceives a ray of hope, a promise that he will eventually find the thing for which he seeks and craves; but this ray of hope evaporates, for it turns out that the object is not what he was hoping for after all. Once more, he becomes submerged in melancholy, until finally he finds the thing he has been seeking.

Then comes the niggun's third movement, also containing three themes. The overall mood of this movement begins in a joyous mode, with a beat that make one lift his feet to dance. As the niggun progresses, the beat becomes faster and more fervent, reaching a fiery crescendo that leaves the singer panting for breath. The music now consists of only a few isolated notes issuing forth from the depths of the heart, creating the impression of musical notes chasing after and desperately trying to keep up with the rapidly moving, feverishly dancing feet, and evoking images of the impassioned but content faces of the dancers.

This was the niggun that Reb Mordechai wished to teach the young folk and bochurim. To everyone's amazement, they assimilated the whole niggun after the first three repetitions, and by the fourth time the young folk were singing the song correctly by themselves. Some of the bystanders were able to join in with a few bars of the melody. When they came to the third movement, Reb Mordechai took hold of Reb Chayim and began to dance with him in earnest, requesting that everyone present join them in the dancing.

[Several generations later,] Reb Berel Ivansker related that whenever Hirshel, the son of Reb Sholom Ivansker, told the story of what happened in the large beis hamedrash on that night after Yom Kippur, it was a pleasure to listen. In spite of Reb Hirshel ben Reb Sholom's advanced age, he would demonstrate the brisk steps with which Reb Mordechai and Reb Chayim had danced while singing the third movement of the "Search and Find" niggun.

Everyone was astounded that Reb Mordechai and Reb Chayim were able to dance for so long, and with such a quick step that their slippers barely touched the floor. They were especially amazed by Reb Chayim's performance, for he was no more than skin and bones. It was obvious that they were possessed by some supernatural power. Everyone else, including the youngest, had collapsed like bundles of straw, and they lay there drenched with perspiration, without a drop of strength remaining, but Reb Mordechai and Reb Chayim were still dancing. Their faces were flaming red, their eyes shut, and their hot breath - along with extremely rapid panting sounds - issued from their mouths. Finally, Reb Chayim began to waver and drop, and a few of the bystanders caught him and led him to a bench to rest.

Reb Mordechai managed to continue dancing a bit longer, but then he emerged from his deveikus and inquired what time it was. Upon learning that it was almost two o'clock in the morning, he sighed and went into to his private room, saying that it was time to recite Tikkun Chatzos.

Putting the puzzle together

There is a saying in Yiddish, “Az tzvei menchen zugen dir du bist a shiker, gei shlofen” (“If two people tell you that you’re drunk, go to sleep”). I can’t possibly give over every single vort I heard tonight at once — I’ll have to do it in installments (plus, I’ll post the recording of it after I delete the pauses, niggunim, things that shouldn’t be public, etc.). I will, however, give over the one I was quite impressed with (also, it was at the beginning, so I can find it easily on my recording).

When you put together a puzzle, what do you do? First, you put together the edges, which is not hard, because they are straight and clear. After you’re done with the edges, what do you do? You put the middle together, obviously. But how do you do this?

Answer: you look at the puzzle’s box cover which has the picture (and put the puzzle together according to the picture).

In our lives — the lives of Jews — the edges are very clear. Hashem wants us to keep Halacha, so we keep Halacha. Shulchan Aruch says X, we do X. Shulchan Aruch says “not Y”, so we don’t do Y. Hashem wants us to daven, so we daven. Nu?.. That’s the simple part. I mean, sure, it’s difficult, but at least it’s straightforward. If you’re an appikoires, that’s another story — but as a frum Yid, surely you know what to do, and it’s clear.

But that’s only the edges of the puzzle. The middle of the puzzle is empty and broken. How do we make sure that our puzzle has the essence, the filling, and that it is not broken in hundred pieces, but that it’s one piece — that our keeping of Halacha, our davening, our learning, our Yiddishkeit, our community (az och un vei) are not empty, meaningless, for the sake of themselves, without essence or purpose — and, most importantly, are one single nekuda, one single entity unified with Hashem? How do we fill the middle of the puzzle?

We look at the cover of the box — we look at what the Rebbe tells us and teaches us the filling, the “middle” should be.

But why should we care what the cover of the box looks like? What does it have to do with the actual puzzle? The answer is that obviously, whoever drew the cover of the box saw the puzzle in its complete form — and copied it onto the box.

The Rebbe saw the puzzle, with edges and with the middle, one single piece, with essence, complete and unified. He saw the world in its perfect, final state, with every piece of it, from the mundane physical aspects, to deep spiritual ideas, to meat and potatoes of Judaism (the commandments, the law, the rituals, the learning, the customs, the community) — all of this one with Hashem. He didn’t only see it in the future, He saw it in the present. He lived in it.

And he painted the picture of what it looks for us, so that we can put together the puzzle — of our lives and of this world.

Except, the Rebbe did more. Our Rebbe, the final, the seventh, the current, born in 1902, did more. As somebody said on a Living Torah video, Frierdiker Rebbe knew how the World to Come looks like. The Rebbe knew how to get there. And he showed us. He told us. He taught us — not in a way of metaphors, parables, hints, play of shadows and light. In a clear and obvious way.

Du dorf lernen Chassidus Chabad. You have to learn Chabad Chassidus to bring Mashiach. As my rabbi says, you have to learn the Rebbe’s sichos (and ma’amorim obviously). It is exciting time to be a chossid of the Rebbe. It is important and responsible time. Stop chaking chainik. Go and bring Mashiach.

Between the Yud Shvats

Frierdiker Rebbe was both an idealist and an extremely practical man. [...] And these characteristics made him a Rebbe — not a tzaddik, not a businessman, but a Rebbe.

An extremely amazing shiur (or a farbrengen) on the year between the two Yud Shvats — that of Frierdiker Rebbe and the first Yud Shvat of the Rebbe. It starts with the Frierdiker Rebbe’s illness, goes on to talk about the year before our Rebbe became the Rebbe and culminates with the first farbrengen of our generation and the first ma’amor that the Rebbe delivered. I think the first years and the general overview of the nessius are also included at the end.

This shiur is amazing because of the details of the ongoing events and the little side-stories, which are always characteristic of Rabbi Paltiel’s shiurim.