Showing posts with label Holidays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Holidays. Show all posts

Sunday, December 2, 2012

Spiritual timelessness of Judaism. Special days of Kislev



A repost:

In one of his shiurim on Chanukah (listen also to this shiur on the whole month of Kislev), Rabbi Paltiel explains that time is also a creation. Besides the time that is bound to space (which Einstein’s theories of relativity talk about), there is a more general, “background” time. Every moment of this time has its unique spiritual energy — Sunday has one type of energy, Monday another, etc.

This explains why certain holidays in Jewish history came and went, and other holidays remained. The particular day on which a particular holiday happened had its unique spiritual energy. The holidays with “universal” spiritual energies are still celebrated by Jews. For instance, the 15th of Nissan (the day when Jews left Egypt) had an energy of liberation, redemption from slavery, overcoming of one’s limitations and so on. This is why Pesach is celebrated throughout generations — not (only) to commemorate the leaving of Egypt, but mainly because the day itself is liberating; the same spiritual energy that allowed Jews to leave Egypt many years ago on this day appears again every year.

This applies to any holy day on Jewish calendar. On Rosh HaShana (New Year), the source of energy that allows the world to exist is renewed. By celebrating Rosh HaShana, we are celebrating literal rebirth of the Universe.

Shabbos is not merely a day to commemorate the fact that G-d “rested” (i.e., did not create the world actively); on this day, the stretch of time itself (and as a result, the world that exists in this time) is holy. The same mode of creation that was during the first Shabbos — through “thought” as opposed to “speech” — happens every Shabbos. It is as if on Shabbos we did not exist “outside” of Hashem, but inside His “mind”.

Rabbi Paltiel gives another example. In Sha’alos veTeshuvos min haShomayim (“Questions and Answers from Heaven”), a book in which halachic questions are asked “beyond the Curtain” and answers are recorded, at the end of one such teshuva, it is written: “Today is 19th of Kislev, Tuesday, and it is a day for celebration”. For a thousand years it was not known why 19th of Kislev was a happy day — until 1799, when on a Tuesday, 19th of Kislev, the first Rebbe of Chabad Chassidus, R’ Shneur Zalman of Lyadi (“Alter Rebbe”) was released from prison. This day became known as “New Year of Chassidus”, and it is generally recognized amongst Chabad Chassidim as a day instrumental for dissemination for Chabad Chassidus, which is a recipe for bringing Mashiach.
Yud-Tes Kislev is a lot bigger than Chabad. It is not New Year of Chassidus Chabad; it is New Year of Chassidus. In Yud-Tes Kislev lies spiritual victory of Baal Shem Tov. Baal Shem Tov was a special soul that came from heavens to introduce new, special type of Judaism, and it was being judged. [...] And the miracle of Yud-Tes Kislev effected not just Chabad Chassidim, but all Jews. [Listen on for explanation.]
The same is true regarding Chanukah. The day of 25th of Kislev has the special spiritual energy of renewal and dedication of Beis HaMikdosh. When the Mishkan was built, it was ready to be dedicated on the 25th of Kislev. Moses was told by G-d to wait until Adar, but the energy of this day revealed itself when it came time (on the same day) to renew and rededicate Beis HaMikdosh after victory over Greeks.

So, it is true that we celebrate the historical occurence of each holiday, but this occurence is but a keili, a vessel for the spiritual energy behind the occurence. We are really celebrating the spiritual occurence of a particular day (that is happening on that day), but since we live in the physical world and cannot “grasp” the spiritual events in their purity (they are beyond this world) — nor should we do this, because the ultimate purpose of creation is making a dwelling place for G-d in this, physical world, — we “dress” the spiritual energy of a particular day in the “vessel” of a particular holiday, with its history, customs, special prayers, symbolism, etc.

That is why Purim, for instance, could be meaningful even for Jews in the middle of Holocaust. While the historical relevance of this holiday was seemingly distant and reversed by contemporary events, the spiritual relevance (Purim is higher that Yom Kipur, as the Lubavitcher Rebbe explains in one of his ma’amorim) was nevertheless there.

* * *

This brings me to the question often asked about the “reason” of mitzvos. I will give a relatively obscure example. At the end of having a meal, before saying the main after-blessing for the meal, it is customary to wash one’s fingertips and pass the fingers over one’s lips. Men do this (usually, using a special cup and plate that is passed around the table); women do not. The explanation given on a nigleh (“revealed” or legal) level is that this custom was instituted to protect someone who had just eaten from the salts present in the food that may be harmful for one’s skin.

The question why this customs does not apply to women has several answers. One of them is that traditionally, women were involved with preparing food and therefore washed their hands anyway. Another is that the act of publicly washing one’s hands at the table is an act of doing something normally private in public, with the table’s attention drawn to oneself. Because privacy is more important for women than for men, it is generally recognized to be improper for the former to participate in attention-drawing events (which includes other activities, in which women normally do not participate, such as holding a public office, being a Rav, getting an aliyah, etc.).

Today, if we see in this custom nothing but a medical warning, it may seem somewhat irrelevant, to say the least. It may be surprising why this custom survived, while other, seemingly more important customs of past did not. The same logic that applies to holidays, however, applies to customs and mitzvos. They have both physical (historical, ritual, pragmatic) and spiritual dimension. The former is but a vessel for holding the latter.

Indeed, regarding washing of one’s fingertips after the meal, we find in the commentaries of AriZal (Rabbi Itzchok Luria, the founder of the most comprehensive contemporary system of Kabbala we have today — on which Chabad Chassidus is based, by the way) that through washing of our fingertips after the meal, we dispell the forces of klipah (spiritual impurity) that may have been attracted to us (similar to how the same forces are attracted to our body during our sleep and linger in the fingertips after we wake up, making it neccessary for us to wash them). Indeed, this is the kavana (conscious intent) one needs to have while washing one’s hands after the meal — to get rid of these forces of impurity.

So, why don’t women wash their fingertips? Apparently, because the forces of impurity do not affect them in this case. How do we know this? Because women are not required halachically to wash their fingertips after a meal. The most important lesson that Chabad Chassidus teaches us is: we must realize that ein od milvado — there is nothing but G-d. There is absolute unity of G-d with His creation, both space and time. All events happen in time and in space when they are supposed to happen according to the grand design of creation. Spiritual at all times is connected to the physical, both in historical events and in Torah.

Therefore, if — for whatever historical reasons! — women were not obligated to wash their fingertips at the time that this custom was instituted, it must mean that whatever the spiritual dimension of this custom is, it did not apply to women but applied to men. Even if nowadays the particular physical causes of this difference (and the reason for the custom itself) no longer apply, their spiritual aspects still do, making it necessary for us to honor the custom.

Thursday, September 6, 2012

Chai Ellul



There is a Chassidic saying that 18th of Ellul, "Chay Ellul", the birthday of the founder of Chabad movement, Alter Rebbe, brings chayus, life, into the month of Ellul.

What does this mean? It means that teachings of Chabad allow one to have his Ellul with chayus, with life and energy. Ellul stands for "ani l'doidi v'doidi li" -- "I am to my beloved, and my beloved is to me", which corresponds to our relationship with G-d. This relationship, expressed in Judaism, must be done with chayus, with life and energy.

A person must realize that Torah and mitzvos are not a "lifestyle". They are a living, breathing relationship with the Creator of the world. Every time a person does a mitzva, every time he learns Torah, he must not do it as a habit, as a rote, as a part of his "lifestyle" or "identity", but as an aspect of an ongoing relationship with the Eibeshter.

And the same way, every aspect of his life, from his work and his hobbies to his family to, obviously, his davening and learning and mitzvos, one must strive to connect to G-d. When something happens to a person, or when a person does something during his day, no matter how mundane, he must ask: "How is this a part of my relationship with Hashem?" And if he doesn't know the answer, he must search for it.

There is a story told about Mitteler Rebbe, Alter Rebbe's son. One year, Alter Rebbe was away for the reading of the Torah portion where all the curses that would befall the Jews if they did not keep Torah were listed. When he heard the curses being read out loud, he fainted and fell so ill that it wasn't clear if he would be able to fast on Yom Kippur.

People eventually asked: "What happened? You hear your father read the same Torah portion every year." He answered: "When my father reads this, I only hear blessings."

What's the point of this story? One of the major ideas expressed through the teachings of Alter Rebbe is that G-d is benevolent towards us. There are many mystical and philosophical ways of understanding it, and one must learn them all, but the bottom line that one must keep in mind every day is that anything that happens to one is a direct gift from G-d, whether or not it is a revealed blessing or a blessing in disguise.

May we be worthy of reaching very soon the time when our relationship with Hashem is revealed in this world on all levels.

Friday, May 11, 2012

E pluribus unum

It is said that even if Hashem did not give us the land of Israel and the Holy Temple, just bringing us to Mt. Sinai would be enough. The famous question is asked: what do you mean, it would be enough? The whole point of bringing us to Har Sinai is to give us Torah, which we would keep in Eretz Yisroel. The answer is that it would be enough, because when Jews received Torah, they were unified as one person. (We learn that Jews were tired before receiving of Torah. Why were they tired? Because it took them an effort to become unified. We learn from this that Jews get their strength from argument, which is why the main pastime of a frum Jew is to learn Gemara and argue.)
        Being unified “would be enough”, because unity amongst Jews results in the unity between the holy Names of G-d, between Him and His Presence, and between Him and this world. (For a detailed kabbalistic explanation of this process, see Derech Mitzvosecha, mitzvas Ahavas Yisroel. Suffice it to say that each Jewish soul contains sparks from all the other Jewish souls, and unification “below” draws forth the unification “above”.)
        This is why it is said that loving your fellow as yourself is the basis of the whole Torah. The point is not so much that the purpose of Torah is to bring peace amongst people (how exactly does putting on tefillin result in peace?), but that all Torah mitzvos accomplish the same thing that the single mitzva of ahavas Yisroel accomplishes: unity between G-d and His Presence in this world. And this is the whole purpose of creation and giving of Torah.

Now, the concept of unity is a tricky one. How can two separate entities become unified? This problem of disunity existed throughout the history of creation and of Jewish people. It all started from shviras ha’keilim, the breaking of the vessels of the chaotic world of Tohu (don’t worry, I won’t talk about that in detail now). The sfiroes of Tohu did not get along, couldn’t cooperate, each thinking of itself as the most important one — and kabloom! Chernobyl b’ruchnius.
        And the story repeated itself many times and indeed still goes on today. The theme of disunity is the theme of Omer. As everyone knows, the students of Rabbi Akiva quaralled, had no respect to each other, and a plague sent by G-d and augmented by socialized healthcare system killed many of them, r"l, in this very period of time.
        But what does it mean that they quarreled? These were the greatest sages of their generation, and they couldn’t get along? What were their disagreements about? What were the disagreements of the Jews in the desert about that they had to put aside to receive Torah? Now that we are writing a string of questions, what was the deal with the sferoes of Tohu? We shall examine these answers after the commercial break.



The Rebbe writes in the sicho devoted to Lag B’Omer that you can’t really blame the Jews in the desert, the spheroes, the students of Rabbi Akiva. They were not arguing about petty matters. They were not practicing sinas chinum. They didn’t care about chitzoinius (“your shtreimel looks worse than my hat”). Each of them had a shitta. Each of them had a job to do, a role that they played. And they took that job seriously.
        Think about it: if Chessed is merciful, and it’s taking its own job as the source of mercy seriously, how can it tolerate Gevurah? What do you mean, gevurah? Chessed! And Gevurah had the same attitude. In order to “live and let live”, to “agree to disagree”, one has to take a slightly mild view of one’s own shitta. Look at it with a bit of sense of humor. And these guys couldn’t afford doing that. They were responsible agents of their missions. The sages really believed, each of them, that they were right. Of course, each one of them was, but it’s all nice and good for us, sitting here in our b’dieved armchairs, to say “eilu v’eilu”. For these people, their shittos were their whole world.

So, what is one to do? Well, says the Rebbe, this is a serious problem. This is not just a problem for the sages or spheroes or the Jews in the desert. This is a problem for any two people that are trying to create a relationship. Any kind. Two friends, two colleagues, a husband and a wife, a parent and a child, etc. How can two people become one? What do you mean, one? If I am X, I am X. I cannot be Y. I can tolerate Y. I can respect Y. I can agree to disagree, even, but to be absolutely completely unified with Y? But then what happens with my identity, my “job” (which I take seriously) of X?
        Elsewhere (Inyanei Toras HaChassidus), the Rebbe explains that giluim (revelations) of G-dliness are always in conflict with each other. Because, as explained above, in order for each gilui to be itself, it must be itself and nothing else. Gevurah is Gevurah. End of story. That is why we can’t eat meat with milk. Meat is Gevurah; milk is Chessed. They don’t mix well.
        But the Essence of G-d, says the Rebbe, does not have that problem. Because the Essence includes all the revelations in itself (in potential). So, when the Essence is brought into play, no threat to the identities of individual revelations happens — and they can co-exist. Which is why G-d Himself can disobey rules of logic and do things that are mutually exclusive. Which is why, when Moshiach comes and G-d’s Essence is revealed (may it happen now), there will be no contradiction between the fact that G-d is revealed (which, under normal circumstances, would destroy this world) and, at the same time, the world exists and is a world, with its physical matter. (And, incidentally, we shall be allowed to eat meat and milk together.)

So, what’s the solution to disunity? Bring G-d into the equation. When the spheroes gain the awareness that each of them is not just Chessed or Gevurah, but Chessed and Gevurah that are each doing a job for G-d, this awareness allows them to co-operate, since each of them is doing essentially the same thing (serving G-d), albeit in a different way. The deepest identity of Chessed is not its vessel, but its Light, and the whole point of the Light is the idea that it’s on a mission from G-d (“light reveals the luminary”). Furthermore, this co-operation allows them to do their jobs better. And voilá, the world of Atzilus (aka Tikkun) is here. Jews are given Torah. Sages stop dying.
        And two people become one. This is the only way. In order for a relationship to be that of true, absolute unity, not just tolerance, one needs to bring G-d into it. G-d in the relationship is what allows the two people to become completely one and at the same time each retain his-or-her unique identity.

Gutt Yom Tov, y’all. May we merit to see speedily the time when the greatest unity of all possible is achieved: that between G-d and His nation, with the coming of Moshiach.

Friday, November 26, 2010

Uniqueness, revisited

I've been thinking about it last night. What is the chiddush of Alter Rebbe? I mean, really? Not using long words and paragraphs.

Well. I remember, around Simchas Torah, I've been sitting in the sukkah of one local Jew, with my rabbi and a Yemenite Jew from Israel. We were talking about Chabad and Judaism in general. And I said: "In Chabad, we believe that ein od milvado — there is nothing but Him". And the Jew answered: "What, everywhere else they don't believe?"

So, my rabbi, diplomatically, changed the subject a little bit, and said: "The Rebbe once asked someone if he knows what a difference between emunah and bitachon is. And the person said he didn't know. So, the Rebbe explained: emunah is when you believe that when you come to an obstacle, the obstacle is for the best, and Hashem will give you the power to overcome it. Bitachon is an awareness that there is no obstacle."

(And, if you think about it, we believe in something, but trust somebody — not in somebody. Meaning, faith is a state of philosophical disposition towards some concept. [I know, I promised no long words.] But trust is personal. And how can you establish a personal relationship with G-d to the point that not only do you believe — abstractly — that He does only good, but trust Him directly? Why, you learn about G-d and meditate and daven.)

But after all of this, I thought last night. And I think it's actually quite simple. You can believe that ein od milvado. I mean, everyone believes that. It's in the book. But to make it an ikkar of your haskala and avoida, to put it on the cover, lehavdil, like "Do not panic" was written on the cover of H2G2?

And then again: you can make it the ikkar from which everything stems. But to make every single nekuda in avoida and haskala directly linked to it and revealing it directly? To see ein od milvado in two Jews splitting a talles — and applying it directly to your everyday life? Now, that's another thing entirely.

I mean, it's quite a feat. No?

And that's what Yud-Tes Kislev is for me. The way TRS puts it, no bochur who is not married knows what it's like to be married. Even if he knows everything, all the steps, in theory — he doesn't really know it, does he? Yud-Tes Kislev for me is about knowing it. "Yadativ v'hayisiv."

Uniqueness of Chabad Chassidus


(source)

[a re-post from a few years back]

On the last two days, I’ve been to four farbrengens (three last night and one tonight) and have a lot of thoughts and little time (what with starting new things in yiddishkeit and, lehavdil, science), so I will summarize the main point.

To quote myself:
Just like a spark reveals in gasoline its “internal” nature (the fact that it — like the spark — is fire, energy), our behavior in this generation will reveal the essence of the Era of Mashiach. Just like in the Era of Mashiach, it will be b’gilui that ein od milvado, when we behave in such a way as to show that there is literally nothing but Hashem, we draw closer that Era. What does it mean behaving in such a way? That’s what Chassidus teaches one — each school of Chassidus in its own way. Therefore, since it is obligation of every Jew to attempt to do everything to bring Mashiach as soon as possible (since the Era of Mashiach is the essential reason why the world was created), it is necessary for every Jew to learn Chassidus and allow its teachings shape his life and service of G-d.
The question is: what is the uniqueness of Chassidus Chabad?

* * *

When Torah was given, most of it was given orally, and the main points of it were written down in the Chumash. Then, when there came a point when rabbis did not “see” as clearly in Torah, the mesorah of precedents in interpretation got started. Then, there came times when accuracy of transmission of Oral Torah was in danger, major points of it were written down in a form of Mishna. Then, the precedents in interpretation of Mishna were written down in Talmud. For a while, people intuitively understood Talmud (passing orally explanations and teachings of its meaning), but eventually came the time, when even this level of understanding diminished. In the words of Rambam, justifying his writing of Mishneh Torah in its introduction:
In our times, severe troubles come one after another, and all are in distress; the wisdom of our Torah scholars has disappeared, and the understanding of our discerning men is hidden. Thus, the commentaries, the responses to questions, and the settled laws that the Geonim wrote, which had once seemed clear, have in our times become hard to understand, so that only a few properly understand them. And one hardly needs to mention the Talmud itself — the Babylonian Talmud, the Jerusalem Talmud, the Sifra, the Sifre, and the Toseftot — which all require a broad mind, a wise soul, and considerable study, before one can correctly know from them what is forbidden or permitted and the other rules of the Torah.
For this reason, I, Moshe son of the Rav Maimon the Sephardi, found that the current situation is unbearable; and so, relying on the help of the Rock blessed be He, I intently studied all these books, for I saw fit to write what can be determined from all of these works in regard to what is forbidden and permitted, and unclean and clean, and the other rules of the Torah: Everything in clear language and terse style, so that the whole Oral Law would become thoroughly known to all; without bringing problems and solutions or differences of view, but rather clear, convincing, and correct statements, in accordance with the legal rules drawn from all of these works and commentaries that have appeared from the time of Our Holy Teacher to the present.
This is so that all the rules should be accessible to the small and to the great in the rules of each and every commandment and the rules of the legislations of the Torah scholars and prophets [...].
In other words, knowledge necessary for serving G-d that was intuitive, obvious and successfully taught orally, is not so anymore, and therefore, it is necessary to write it down. This pattern repeats itself in the Jewish history throughout generations.

* * *

What does this have to do with Chassidus? Well, Judaism is a way of connecting to G-d. Not a way for making sure that we are fed, clothed, have happy families, nice communities, good relationships between each other, success in business and so on. Sure, all these things can come from Torah one way or another, but they are not the reason why Torah was given. It was given to connect this world and ourselves to G-d.

For all the generations, the connection of a Jew to G-d was obvious, natural, intuitive and did not need to be taught explicitly. If a Jew was a part of Jewish community, Jewish tradition, the system of Jewish thought and learning, he was connected to G-d. He saw G-d in everyday events in the world, he saw G-d in blatt Gemara, he saw G-d in davening (although already he would have to say psukei d’zimra before kriyas Shma).



In the times of Baal Shem Tov, this started disappearing. People saw the world, but not G-d. People saw oxes goring cows and workers being paid on time and intellectual pleasure from the pilpul, but not G-d in those laws. People were having difficulty realizing in an obvious way — in theory and, especially, in practice — that ein od milvado, there is nothing but Him, and this fact should give us life, energy and special understanding of why we live our lives, learn Torah and keep mitzvos. And a neshama entered this world to rectify this.

Baal Shem Tov explained how there is nothing but Him, how one must serve G-d with joy and passion, how one must unconditionally love every Jew. The Maggid explained it. Talmidei Maggid explained it. The explanation was passed down from a tzaddik to his chassidim in a form of oral tradition.

Then came the upstart called Rav Shneur Zalman Boruchovich from Lyozhna and said: “Not enough”. Oral tradition is not enough. Customs, songs, culture, connection of a chossid to his Rebbe at the Rebbe’s table are not enough. What is needed is a written-down, organized, structured, accessible to simplest people teaching that will explain how exactly it is that “there is nothing but Him” — both in the world and in Torah — and how to apply it in practice, from day to day, in our lives. How, using this knowledge, in theory and in practice, we can bring Mashiach.

To which the rest of the Jewish world said: “Gevalt!..” To reveal the essence of Torah? Not in a form of customs, abstract stories, sayings, teachings, personall examples of chassidim from their rebbeim, but in a form of a teaching?! To distill most precious treasure into a book, for everyone, from a shoemaker to a talmid chochom, to study? (By the way, today, on the 20th of Kislev, is the anniversary of the first printing of Tanya.)

And there was a judgement, deciding who is right; in which Alter Rebbe won on Yud Tes Kislev. And the rest is history…

* * *

Two final things. Niggun “Podoh V’Sholom” can be listened to here (lyrics, translation and history behind the niggun, including its connection to Yud-Tes Kislev, are there too). Also, it finally snowed here.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Something in the air

As is well known, Alter Rebbe had three cheiderim: from Aleph to Gimmel. Cheider Aleph was more complicated than Beis, and Beis than Gimmel. Talmidim from a lower cheider were naturally not allowed to sit on the classes of a higher cheider. But the opposite was  also true.

One chossid from the cheider Aleph really wanted to hear what Alter Rebbe was teaching in the cheider Gimmel. So, he bribed some of the talmidim there (with promises of Chassidus) to sneak him in. He hid under a table. Then it turned out that Alter Rebbe was being delayed. So, he said: “I am going to sleep here in the corner; when the Rebbe enters the building, wake me up.”

After a while, Alter Rebbe suddenly entered the building, and the talmidim hurriedly woke the chossid up. He didn’t have time to wash nigleh vasser, but since one is not necessarily obligated to do so after having slept during the day, he just went back to his hiding place under the table. Alter Rebbe came in and immediately said: “Oy, there is ruach tumah in here.” The chossid jumped out from under the table and ran out.

* * *

A similar story had happened to Alter Rebbe himself. One year in Mezeritch, he didn’t have a metal cup for the seider. So, he kashered a glass cup by filling it up with water and letting it sit for a day and then repeating it two more times. According to most opinions — but not all — that is ok.

Then, when the seider was about to start, the Maggid was hesitant. He was waiting and waiting, and finally got up and started walking around. He came to Alter Rebbe and asked him about the origins of the cup. Alter Rebbe told him. The Maggid said: “There is a malach standing next to me and not allowing me to start the seider. He says that according to some, there is chometz on my table. Please throw this cup away — I will share my cup with you.”

This part of the story is my favorite: “According to some, there is chometz on my table.”

Monday, March 29, 2010

Gutt Yom Tov!

I wish everyone kosher and freilichen Peisach and that this year not only are we able to overcome our limitations, but that we use the limitations themselves for the purpose of reaching the greater depths.

The only reason Jews went into the Mitzrayim was to receive Torah. The only reason every Jewish soul descended into this world is to make Dwelling for HaKadosh Boruchu. May this task be completed now, in a happy and pleasant way!

Sunday, March 28, 2010

With all your essence

We learn from the Haggadah that Hashem redeemed us from Egypt with his Essence (“not with an angel, not with a saraf, not with a messenger”). This was done, because in our “levushim”, our external characteristics, we have fallen — Hashem had to evoke the Essence of our soul in order to awake our true identity.

The same way we learn that Rabbi Akiva argued that each plague consisted of five sub-plagues. These five levels correspond to the four levels constituting the fabric of reality¹, plus the fifth, essential level. This, again, shows the true nature of the Exodus — the miracles performed penetrated the world to its core, softening it up for both our redemption and the giving of Torah (which would allow the union of the spiritual and the physical, heretofore not possible).

The practical lesson for us is that we have to use our essence when serving Hashem. We cannot treat being a Jew as a levush, as a role. “I am a student, I am a brother, I am a husband, I am a citizen, nu, I am also a Jew.” We cannot just use an aspect of our personality for Yiddishkeit — an angel, a saraf, a messenger. We have to use our full self, “down to its innermost depths”.

And in learning and doing mitzvos, we have to get to the deepest level — to the fifth level of Torah. Everybody knows there is parde"s: the four levels of interpretation of Torah (literal, allegorical, homiletic and mystical). Just like there are four levels of the soul (nefesh, ruach, neshama, chaya). Just like there are for worlds (Asiyah, Yetzira, Briah, Atzilus). But behind all this there is the Essence. At the core of the worlds there is G-d Himself. At the beginning of Hashem’s four-lettered Name, there is the tip of the Yud. At the core of the soul there is Yechida. And at the core of Torah there is Chassidus.

Using Chassidus we can see the Essence in everything, and we can allow ourselves to “leap over” our internal and external limitations. I am not talking about just limud ha’Chassidus, the learning of Chassidus Chabad. I am also talking about darkei ha’Chassidus — the paths of Chassidus Chabad. These paths are the roadmap to geulah, the time when the hidden fifth level will be revealed in the outer four.

Just like the ten makkos, each consisting of five levels, “softened up” the world, preparing it for the Exodus and for giving of the Torah (the union of the spiritual and the physical), the same way Chassidus Chabad, when studied and practiced by every Jew, brings closer the time of our redemption and the union of G-d with His world.

__________________
¹ These four levels are traditionally knows as air, fire, earth and water, which the Rebbe says correspond to the electromagnetic, gravitational, strong nuclear and weak nuclear forces. The fifth level corresponds to hyulie — the aspect of reality which contains the potential for existence, out of which all reality comes out.

On the other hand, in the computer game Quest for Glory IV: The Shadows of Mordavia (my personal favorite in the series), the fifth secret element was pizza.

Monday, February 15, 2010

Demanding a timeless answer, or Tradition, tradition! (part 4)



In the famous sicho about Purim, the Rebbe asks the famous question: why is the name of G-d not mentioned in the whole of Megillas Ester? He gives an answer (brought down in our tradition) immediately: because Mordechai did not want non-Jews who would translate Megillas Ester in their languages to replace the name of G-d with, lehavdil, names of their deities.

The Rebbe, however, is not satisfied with the answer. He says: this might have been a good reason back in the day, but nowadays it’s not. We, however, have the same Megillas Ester. And it is eternal — both in its message and in minute details. Therefore, there must be a reason applicable even to us today that G-d’s name is not mentioned.

If you want to know the reason, you can learn the sicho in Yiddish or Loshon Koidesh (from what I remember, the reason was that during Purim, G-d’s Essence — which cannot be described by any name — was the main actor) or listen to it here. But what’s interesting to me is that the Rebbe is not satisfied with an answer: “Well, there were circumstances back in the day, which led to this state of affairs, and today we inherited the results, even though the reason for their appearance may not be applicable anymore. We should keep the results out of respect for the tradition.”

He is not satisfied just like all the “modernizers” of Judaism are not satisfied, but his approach is not to shed or “update” these customs, whose superficial reason may lie in the past, but to find and explain the deeper reason for their existence throughout the ages and, especially, today.

See a post I wrote a while ago: “Spiritual timelessness of Judaism” (it’s about Kislev, not Adar, but the message is applicable to the topic of this post). My main point there is that historical circumstances of Jewish customs’ or laws’ appearance are merely vessels which drew down the essence of the customs and the laws: the spiritual energy that is associated with them that allows us to connect (ourselves and the world) to Hashem through them.

Also, see part 2 of the “Tradition, tradition!” series.

[source of the image]

Sunday, December 20, 2009

A thought from the road

http://www.rockmoto.com/files/rockmoto51/Diamond-Lane-1.jpg

Coming back from an emergency trip to NY (during which I had to respond to a family tragedy, but as a result lit all the candles of the menoira in a household, where not a single candle had been lit during the whole Chanukah), I had an interesting occurrence. Actually, it was rather commonplace, but it made me think of a conversation I recently had with my rabbi.

Friday, December 11, 2009

Happy Chanukah

No new thoughts this year. Just a selection of old ones.

"The Essence of Chanukah: Beyond Definitions"
"G-d or nature?"
"Spiritual timelessness of Judaism"

A post that doesn't have to do with Chanukah per se, but explains the idea of Essence vs. revelation, which was touched upon in the first post mentioned above.

Chanukah is a good time to learn the topic of Ani Hashem loi shanisi. Why? Because it's discussed in Mem Gimmel: Tannu Rabanan, which is connected to Chanukah (well, Tosfos vs. Rashi questions regarding Menoira is the ma'amor's passport). I will try to present to main idea of the ma'amor over the holiday.

By the way, my rabbi told me a story once. He gave over the sicho of the Rebbe, in which the Rebbe asnwers Brisker Rav's question regarding how could the oil be miraculous and be kosher at the same time. In order to to a mitzva, one needed regular oil and regular fire — normal according to the laws of the world. The Rebbe explains that what happened was not that the oil was burning more slowly or lasted longer, but that it was burning and not burning at the same time.

This was not a miracle, but a nimna ha’nimnaos — a contradiction of the laws of logic. Which is possible when only the Essence of G-d is revealed. Which is why Chanukah is on a such high a level, and why it will be celebrated when Moshiach comes. Fine.

When my rabbi finished his talk, somebody in the audience asked: “Why can't you say that the oil was really burning, and the Halacha was being kept and not kept at the same time?”

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Sichos for Shvues

... explained and taught by Rabbi Paltiel. Found here.

Each one is 15 minutes to half an hour. Very much worth it.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Of onions and lemons

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This was the most enjoyable pair of seiderim so far. I was the Simple Son. And it was truly great. But, as Rebbe Rashab said, “It takes twenty five years of hiskafiya and hiskafka to realize that putting on tefillin once [not during Chol HaMoed obviously] is greater than twenty five years of hiskafiya and hiskafka.”

So, learn Chabad Chassidus — otherwise, you’re just an am ha’aretz. And in order to understand Chabad Chassidus (and, generally speaking, know what to do and do what you have to do), learn already Gemara, Halacha, Tanach, and the rest of Yiddishkeit. But at the end of the day, be Hashem’s simple son. Who is there not because He wants a present from Hashem (even a spiritual present), but simply because He wants Hashem.

At one point, someone asked a question: “What does Dayeinu mean?” My answer: just be grateful to be part of G-d’s Universe, His grand plan. Just be happy you exist. Sure, if there is a chance, we should always strive for greater — but to say that G-d owes something to us?

* * *

What does it mean that we have bechira (free will) and yet G-d creates the world every single second? So, if I move a pen, who caused the pen to appear in a new place — G-d or, lehavdil, I? The answer is: both. I have a ratzon (desire) for the pen to move, and G-d creates the world with a pen in a new place.

So, if I do everything according to G-d’s Will — and this doesn’t mean only obeying all His wishes and never disobeying something He doesn’t want me to do, but also making sure that nothing is for no reason, “just ‘cause” — I am making sure that there is still one G-d in the Universe. His wishes are my wishes, my actions are His actions (which I will to be so), and the fact that He is the Master of the World is affirmed.

But when I do something (G-d forbid) against His Will, or if I don’t carry out His Will, or if I do something which has nothing to do with His Will and is pointless or is simply for my pleasure (like chatting with a friend about soccer), then I make it that it is as if there were two “gods” in the Universe (G-d forbid): G-d and, lehavdil, I. Of course, there is still one G-d only, but this truth is not upheld. And it is akin to doing avoida zara (idol worship) then.

So, which one is it gonna be?

* * *

And finally, you should always say “ha’adamah” on onions according to Alter Rebbe, because their taste is decreased (“ruined”) by cooking. I.e., a boiled onion doesn’t taste as good as a raw onion — so, you should say “shehakol” on it. On the other hand, because a fried onion does, perhaps you should say “ha’adama” — consult your Rav.

According to some Polish posek whose name I don’t remember, you should say “shehakol” because people normally eat onions fried or boiled, not raw (but they are edible before cooking — so they don’t gain the status of a vegetable only when cooked, like potatoes). But — in Russia they do eat raw onions. So, according to the second shitta, which brocha should a Jew from Russia make? (And before you say it doesn’t matter where a Jew is from, Russian Jews or descendants of thereof, or Jews belonging to a Russian Jewish community like Lubavitch are not allowed halachically to remove beard — even with scissors. But German Jews are.)

Now the question becomes: what about lemons? In US, people are barbaric and don’t normally eat lemons only using them to squeeze juice out of or to add to their fish, chicken or tea as a spice. In Russia, people are civilized and do eat lemons. Not necessarily in tea (although they do even sometimes eat lemons that they have squeezed into tea). Not necessarily as a form of medicine (if you ever have soar throat, sucking, chewing and eventually swallowing a lemon — with some sugar on top if you’re a wimp or from California and have to constantly smile). Just by themselves. So, should I now say “ha’eitz” or “shehakol”? I am still waiting for an answer from my rav.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Chag sameach

Kosher and liberating Peisach to everyone. Liberate yourselves from yourselves. Let the events repeat themselves not only spiritually, but physically, with coming of Mashiach and the purpose for which the world was created finally being fulfilled.

Don’t forget to learn Soiteh.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Regarding Birchas ha’Chama



My friend, a chossid, wrote in the Facebook:
Birkat Hachamah (Blessing on the Sun): The existence of nearly all life on Earth is fueled by light from the sun. Some may call this phenomenon nature. We will gather on April 8th, 2009, and declare otherwise.
My answer:
No we don’t. Sun comes up every morning and goes down every evening. This is Nature — constancy. To say that this does not exist is stupid, ignorant. Or, if you are more elevated and say that ein od milvado, and therefore, nature is nullified before Hashem, then you are right, but you’re not doing your job.

Hashem doesn’t want you to destroy the Nature. He wants there to be Nature — davka oilam ha’tachton. But — Hashem within the Nature.
More about this here.



So, tomorrow we declare that the sun does exist, and the nature does exist (for the sun is a sign of constancy — as opposed to moon, which changes all the time), but at the same time, they are one with Hashem. The ultimate proclamation of Hashem’s Oneness — that He is true and present even within the world, which by its definition, design and (forgive my pun) nature is a lower world — separate and distinct from Hashem, yet one with Him.

By the way, make sure to wear a new piece of clothes tomorrow for Shehichiyanu.

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Of chickens, tzaddikim and Chassidim


(pictures taken from Artemiy Lebedev’s travels blog)

A very simple thought, consisting of a combination of my thoughts, my rabbi’s thoughts and my friend’s vort. If you think you know what I am talking about, just keep reading. Perhaps you don’t. Also, apparently, coffee helps ADD. I personally prefer pictures of Stokholm subway.

Last night, my friend Boruch told the famous story of Baal Shem Tov about a prince who thought he was a chicken. [Those of you who know the story can skip until the next brackets, after the picture.] Sitting under the table, without pants, clucking away, etc. Then came a big chochom and told the king he would cure the prince. He sat under the table, also without pants, also clucking away and eating corn. This went on for several days, and the prince started getting used to another “chicken”.

Then suddenly, one day, the chochom showed up wearing pants. Prince asked: “I thought you were a chicken?! How can you be wearing pants?” The chochom answered: “Sure, I am a chicken. Do pants define me? I know I am a chicken, so what does it matter that I wear pants?” To the prince this seemed reasonable, and he also started wearing pants. Then, in a few days, the chochom started wearing a shirt, then wearing shoes, then eating at the table, etc., etc. The prince followed his example every time and gradually started behaving again as a human being (or, even better, as a prince), still thinking, nevertheless, that he was a chicken.



[Those who knew the story can resume here.] What’s the point of the story? We are all souls in this world that think we are like goyim. In reality, we are not. There is nothing wrong with being goyim, but we are not them — we are something else. We do, however, look, feel and behave like them. After all, why not? So, this is the purpose of the tzaddikim — to show us that we are not goyim but Jews. The tzaddikim come down to our level, sit under the table with us, eating corn, and slowly they elevate us to what the appropriate behavior for Jews, for princes, is.

Add to that what the Alter Rebbe says in Tanya about how tzaddikim are like a head of the body, and each cell receives its livelihood from the head and therefore needs to attach itself to it — and therefore, we need to attach ourselves to the tzaddikim — and you have Chassidus.

But you do not yet have Chassidus Chabad. Because being a Chossid of the Lubavitcher Rebbe is something additional. The Rebbe is not simply a tzaddik who tells us that we are not chickens and shows us how to behave ourselves. He is not simply the source of our livelihood, a channel through which Hashem’s blessing reaches our souls. He is the Lubavitcher Rebbe. Let me repeat myself: I am not talking simply about the Rabbi Menachem Mendel Shneerson. I am talking about the Lubavitcher Rebbe (whom, in our generation, the aforementioned Rabbi merited to become, fifty eight years ago).



What difference does this make? Very simple. The Lubavitcher Rebbe is a particular tzaddik whose Torah will not just connect a Jew to Hashem, and elevate him, and allow him to progress in his avoida and his middos, etc., etc.

The Lubavitcher Rebbe is a channel through which Chassidus Chabad enters this world — and as a result, he is the particular tzaddik whose Torah will teach a Jew how to bring geulah, how to bring Mashiach. He is a tzaddik whose Torah (combined with Torah of all the preceding Rebbeim Chabad) will teach a Jew how to connect the world with Hashem. How to realize on all levels, that literally ein of milvado, there is nothing but G-d (in this world, in the spiritual worlds, in all of reality, in all of behavior, in all of thoughts and in all of Torah), allow that realization completely transform his soul and behavior and bring closer the time when this will be revealed in and through this world.

Because this state of affairs (when Hashem will be revealed in and through this particular lowly world) is the reason and purpose with which Hashem created all existence, spiritual, physical and in between (i.e., not only our world, not only our world and the spiritual worlds “above” it, but also the infinite number of worlds that exist within the Simple Purity of His Light as it existed before the creation), and this state of affairs will be brought through our efforts, in this generation, specifically as a result of us following the teachings of the Rebbe that influence our generation — because of all this, Chassidus Chabad is the essential point of all Torah.

And the Rebbe, as a result, is Nosi HaDor, the leader of our generation. Let me repeat myself (because some people, including some very smart people who know much more Torah than me, seem to be confused about this): I am not talking about Rabbi Menachem Mendel Shneerson. I am talking about the Lubavitcher Rebbe, the source of Chassidus Chabad.

Now, being Nosi HaDor, the Rebbe is the source of instructions of how to bring Mashiach. He is also the channel through which we receive our livelihood, as Alter Rebbe writes in Tanya. This is true regarding all Jews — whether they know about this or not. Chabad Chassidim know about this (i.e., they do not think this way because they are Chabad Chassidim; they are Chabad Chassidim because they know this).



This is a special privilege. And a special responsibility. Not only do we have to know everything that all the Jews know and do everything that all the Jews do, but we need to know it and do it better. Because we are the shluchim of the Rebbe — through whatever medium this happens. And when we realize this and allow this to penetrate our consciousness, our perception and our actions, we receive a special blessing from the Rebbe in all we do.

Because we don’t do it for ourselves. We don’t do it for our physical pleasures, we don’t do it for the spiritual pleasures. We don’t do it for this world, for the world-to-come, for Lower Gan Eiden or for Higher Gan Eiden.

We do it for G-d alone. For the day when He and His Name will be One.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

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.]

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Rebbetzin Chaya Mushka

In the honor of the Rebbetzin’s yortzeit, a nice collection of stories about her.
A bochur once saw the Rebbetzin carrying bags and and took them for her. When he brought them in, the Rebbetzin gave him a bar of chocolate. To which he said: “I was raised in a chassidic home and was taught to do a mitzvah bishlaimus and not take a reward.” The rebbetzin replied: “Mir hot men oich gehodevet in a chassidishe shtub, un men hot mir gelernt az men git nemt men ubifrat shokolad [I was also raised in a chassidic home and I was taught that when given something one should take it, especially chocolate]”.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Face to face with Emes

I heard a story from a local shliach. I missed the beginning (or said lechaim and got distracted), but the nekuda was that before the Rebbe would leave his room to come down for davening, the door would be half-open, and rabbi Groner would manipulate the door in such a way that nobody could see the Rebbe before he was ready to come out.

The shliach (as a young bochur) and his father were standing outside the door and waiting for the Rebbe (again, I don’t remember the details). Suddenly, rabbi Groner accidentally let the door go or something, and it swung open. They saw the Rebbe standing without his hat, without kapotta, with his color up, putting on a tie. The shliach’s father’s face became completely white. The shliach himself, he says, felt completely terrified. The Rebbe looked at them for a couple seconds, and then a big smile came to his face.

At that point, Rabbi Groner swung the door back closed. In a few minutes, the Rebbe walked out with two siddurim — one for himself, and the other for the bochur (the shliach). He looked at the father and said: “What you saw was no big deal.” Then he turned to the bochur and said: “Un du — du dorf lernen Chassidus” (“And you — you have to learn Chassidus”).

The point is: the Rebbe was confident in the shliach’s father. When you’re an emesdike person, if you meet with Emes, you can handle it. And you — who doesn’t yet know how to deal with the truth — you need to learn Chassidus.