August 5th, 2015
The following is a freely-translated excerpt from a letter by the Rebbe to a young woman who wrote to him with several questions regarding faith and religion, and prefaced her letter with the statement, “I do not believe in G-d, having found no convincing proof of His existence.” In his reply, the Rebbe discusses, at some length, the logical and moral necessity for belief in G-d, and addresses her questions, which included the protestation, “Where was G-d during the Holocaust?” He then adds:
I have written all of the above in reply to your letter. In truth, however, not only do I not believe you when you say that you do not believe in G-d (G-d forbid), but it is also clear to me that you do not believe so either.
My proof of this is that on every occasion that you witness injustice in your surroundings, or when you think of the Holocaust perpetrated by Hitler (may his name be blotted out), as you mention in your letter, you are outraged. But if it were the case that the world has no Ruler and Planner, why should it surprise you that there transpire unjust things, and that whoever is bigger and more powerful than his fellow swallows him alive?
This applies not only to events on the scale of the Holocaust, but to the routine flow of our daily lives, in which every time we perceive something that is wrong and unjust, this disturbs our tranquillity, since we are convinced that things should not be this way. But why shouldn’t they? The physical substance of the universe is not moral, and neither are the plants and animals… Obviously, our outrage over the injustice we see derives from something higher than the physical reality – higher, even, than man. This “something” exists within every human heart and is the source of the conviction, shared by every human being, that there is right and wrong, and that the world ought to conform to what is right. Thus, when we witness a wrong, we immediately seek an explanation: Why is it so? What has caused something to be other than what it ought to be?
From a letter by the Rebbe dated Iyar 14, 5723 (May 8, 1963)[8]
Adapted from the teachings of the Rebbe by Yanki Tauber
[8]. Likkutei Sichot, vol. XXXIII, p. 254.
Tags: Rebbe, faith, holocaust, Rebbe's letters, religion, Yanki Tauber
Posted in Torah Personalities, Modern, Torah, Rebbe | No Comments »
August 5th, 2015
The following is a freely-translated excerpt from a letter by the Rebbe addressed to “the meeting committee for religious doctors of New York” dated “2nd Rosh Chodesh Tammuz, 5715” (June 21, 1955):[9]
It was with pleasure that I received the news about your meeting, whose purpose is to organize an association of religious doctors. If the assembly of G-d-fearing individuals is a positive thing at any time, how much more so is this the case in our generation, a generation deeply confused as a result of the convulsive events [it has experienced] which have brought about in many an utter disappointment in the false doctrines and ideologies they held and which have aroused them to embark on an earnest search for the truth.
An association of religious doctors can encourage this tendency by publicizing its views on several matters regarding which there is much error and confusion:
[As scientists:] to declare that true science, whose sole purpose is to learn the truth, cannot be in contradiction with our Torah, which is the “Torah of truth.” On the contrary: the deeper science delves, the more it corroborates the principles, as well as the particulars, of our faith, the faith of Israel.
Specifically as doctors: to utterly refute the “materialist” school of thought, in light of the extent to which the health of the body is dependent upon the health of the soul. If in earlier times the medical adage stressed “a healthy soul in a healthy body,” in our day it has been recognized how much a slight flaw in the soul is the cause of a great flaw in the body; that the healthier the soul, the greater its control of the body and the greater its ability to repair the body’s deficiencies; that many physical remedies are far more effective and successful in healing the body if they are accompanied by a strong will and spiritual fortitude on the part of the one being healed.
This principle of the supremacy of spirit (quality) over matter (quantity) is also emphasized by the fact that even in regard to purely physical processes, the emerging consensus is that quantity is of limited significance. The things most vital to the functions of the body—the glands, the hormones they produce, the vitamins, etc.—are all of minute quantity.
Also note that [the verse declares], “From my own flesh, I perceive G-d”[10]: from a recognition of the sovereignty of the soul over the body (the micro-universe[11]) is but a small step to recognizing the sovereignty of G-d over the world (the macro-body). In the words of our sages: “In the same way that the soul fills the body … bears it … sees but is not seen … so does G-d fill the world … bear it … sees but is not seen.”[12]
Adapted from the teachings of the Rebbe by Yanki Tauber
[9]. Igrot Kodesh, vol. XI, pp. 202-203.
[11]. “Man is a miniature universe”—Midrash Tanchuma, Pekudei 3.
[12]. Talmud, Berachot 10a; Midrash Tehillim, 103:5.
Tags: medicine, Rebbe, science, Rebbe's letters, Torah, Yanki Tauber
Posted in Torah Personalities, Modern, Torah, Rebbe | No Comments »
August 5th, 2015
Editor’s note: To the Rebbe, all criticism was self-criticism. As he saw it, finding fault with others was simply an avoidance of one’s own responsibility to rectify whatever was amiss. Here we bring you freely translated excerpts of two letters, both from the spring of 5719 (1959), which exemplify this point:
…Regarding what you write about the nature of Chabad’s activities in the Holy Land, it is known that, in such cases, one must first make the utmost effort to do whatever is dependent upon oneself. And if you see that some other person is not fulfilling his task, this should prompt you to a greater and more intense effort on your part.
This, for two reasons:
On the most basic level, if you see a deficiency—even if it is in your fellow’s domain—you must do everything in your power to fill the lack.
Furthermore, Chassidic teaching—as taught by the Baal Shem Tov—tells us that the very fact that you were made aware of a deficiency in a particular area is a clear indication that it is your responsibility to rectify it. For certainly you were not shown this for no reason![11]
In another letter, the Rebbe writes:
…Regarding your despondency, which you explain as brought on by the weakening of certain activities of the Lubavitch Youth Organization, particularly….
It is obvious and self-understood that your reaction should be the very opposite of what it is. To employ the analogy of the human body: if a person recognizes a certain weakness in one of his organs, would it occur to him to deal with this by inducing a weakness in his other organs? On the contrary: one of the ways of healing the weakened organ is to strengthen the other parts of the body.
And are not all Jews as one body?[12]
Adapted from the teachings of the Lubavitcher Rebbe by Yanki Tauber
[11]. Igrot Kodesh, vol. XVIII, pp. 306-307.
Tags: Yanki Tauber, Rebbe, soul, Chassidus, responsibility, Rebbe's letters
Posted in Torah Personalities, Modern, Torah, Rebbe | No Comments »
August 5th, 2015
Why are we here?
This, the mother of all questions, is addressed in turn by the various streams of Torah thought, each after its own style.
The Talmud states, simply and succinctly, “I was created to serve my Creator.”[1] The moralistic-oriented works of Mussar describe the purpose of life as the refinement of one’s character traits. The Zohar says that G-d created us “in order that His creations should know Him.”[2] Master Kabbalist Rabbi Isaac Luria[3] offered the following reason for creation: G-d is the essence of good, and the nature of good is to bestow goodness. But goodness cannot be bestowed when there is no one to receive it. To this end, G-d created our world—that there should be recipients of His goodness.[4]
Chassidic teaching explains that these reasons, as well as the reasons given by other Kabbalistic and philosophical works, are but the various faces of a singular divine desire for creation, as expressed in the various “worlds” or realms of G-d’s creation. Chassidism also offers its own formulation of this divine desire: that we “make a home for G-d in the material world.”[5]
A Home For G-d
What does it mean to make our world a home for G-d?
A basic tenet of our faith is that “the entire world is filled with His presence”[6] and “there is no place void of Him.”[7] So it’s not that we have to bring G-d into the material world—He is already there. But G-d can be in the world without being at home in it.
Being “at home” means being in a place that is receptive to your presence, a place devoted to serving your needs and desires. It means being in a place where you are your true, private self, as opposed to the public self you assume in other environments.
The material world, in its natural state, is not an environment hospitable to G-d. If there is one common feature to all things material, it is their intrinsic egocentrism, their placement of the self as the foundation and purpose of existence. With every iota of its mass, the stone proclaims: “I am.” In the tree and in the animal, the preservation and propagation of the self is the focus of every instinct and the aim of every achievement. And who more than the human being has elevated ambition to an art and self-advancement to an all-consuming ideal?
The only thing wrong with all this selfishness is that it blurs the truth of what lies behind it: the truth that creation is not an end in itself, but a product of and vehicle for its Creator. And this selfishness is not an incidental or secondary characteristic of our world, but its most basic feature. So to make our world a “home” for G-d, we must transform its very nature. We must recast the very foundations of its identity from a self-oriented entity into something that exists for a purpose that is greater than itself.
Every time we take a material object or resource and enlist it in the service of G-d, we are effecting such a transformation. When we take a piece of leather and make a pair of tefillin out of it, when we take a dollar bill and give it to charity, when we employ our minds to study a chapter of Torah—we are effecting such a transformation. In its initial state, the piece of leather proclaimed, “I exist”; now it says, “I exist to serve my Creator.” A dollar in the pocket says, “Greed is good”; in the charity box it says, “The purpose of life is to not to receive, but to give.” The human brain says, “Enrich thyself”; the brain studying Torah says, “Know thy G-d.”
The Frontier of Self
There are two basic steps in the endeavor of making our world a home for G-d. The first step involves priming the material resource as a “vessel for G-dliness”: shaping the leather into tefillin, donating the money to charity, scheduling time for Torah study. The second step is the actual employment of these “vessels” to serve the divine will: binding the tefillin on the arm and head, using the donated money to feed the hungry, studying Torah, etc.
At first glance, it would seem that the second step is the more significant one, while the first step is merely an enabler of the second, a means to its end. But the Torah’s account of the first home for G-d built in our world places the greater emphasis on the construction of the “home,” rather than its actual employment as a divine dwelling.
A sizable portion of the book of Exodus is devoted to the construction of the Sanctuary built by the children of Israel in the desert. The Torah, which is usually so sparing with words that many of its laws are contained within a single word or letter, is uncharacteristically elaborate. The fifteen materials used in the Sanctuary’s construction are listed no less than three times;[8]the components and furnishings of the Sanctuary are listed eight times;[9]and every minute detail of the Sanctuary’s construction, down to the dimensions of every wall-panel and pillar and the colors in every tapestry, is spelled out not once, but twice—in the account of G-d’s instructions to Moses, and again in the account of the Sanctuary’s construction.
All in all, thirteen chapters are devoted to describing how certain physical materials were fashioned into an edifice dedicated to the service of G-d and the training of the Kohanim (priests) who were to officiate there. (In contrast, the Torah devotes one chapter to its account of the creation of the universe, three chapters to its description of the revelation at Mount Sinai, and eleven chapters to the story of the Exodus).
The Sanctuary is the model and prototype for all subsequent homes for G-d constructed on physical earth. So the overwhelming emphasis on its “construction” stage (as opposed to the “implementation” stage) implies that in our lives, too, there is something very special about forging our personal resources into things that have the potential to serve G-d. Making ourselves “vessels” for G-dliness is, in a certain sense, a greater feat than actually bringing G-dliness into our lives.
For this is where the true point of transformation lies—the transformation from a self-oriented object to a thing committed to something greater than itself. If G-d had merely desired a hospitable environment, He need not have bothered with a material world; a spiritual world could just as easily have been enlisted to serve Him. What G-d desired was the transformation itself: the challenge and achievement of selfhood transcended and materiality redefined. This transformation and redefinition occurs in the first stage, when something material is forged into an instrument of the Divine. The second stage is only a matter of actualizing an already established potential, of putting a thing to its now natural use.
Good Morning
You meet a person who has yet to invite G-d into his or her life. A person whose endeavors and accomplishments—no matter how successful and laudable—have yet to transcend the self and self-oriented goals.
You wish to expand her horizons—to show him a life beyond the strictures of self. You wish to put on tefillin with him, to share with her the divine wisdom of Torah.
But he’s not ready yet. You know that the concept of serving G-d is still alien to a life trained and conditioned to view everything through the lens of self. You know that before you can introduce her to the world of Torah and mitzvot, you must first make her receptive to G-dliness, receptive to a life of intimacy with the divine.
So when you meet him on the street, you simply smile and say, “Good morning!” You invite her to your home for a cup of coffee or a Shabbat dinner. You make small talk. You don’t, at this point, suggest any changes in his lifestyle. You just want her to become open to you and what you represent.
Ostensibly, you haven’t “done” anything. But in essence, a most profound and radical transformation has taken place. The person has become a vessel for G-dliness.
Of course, the purpose of a vessel is that it be filled with content; the purpose of a home is that it be inhabited. The Sanctuary was built to house the presence of G-d. But it is the making of vessels for G-dliness that is life’s greatest challenge and its most revolutionary achievement.
Based on an address by the Rebbe, Chanukah 5747 (1987)[10]
Adapted from the teachings of the Lubavitcher Rebbe by Yanki Tauber
[1]. Talmud, Kiddushin 82b.
[2]. Zohar, part II, 42b.
[3]. The “Holy Ari,” 1534-1572.
[4]. Etz Chaim, Shaar HaKelalim, ch. 1.
[5]. Tanya, ch. 36 (after Midrash Tanchuma, Nasso 16); Yom Tov Shel Rosh Hashanah 5666, p. 7; ibid., p. 446; see Likkutei Sichot, vol. VI, p. 21, notes 69 and 70.
[8]. “Gold, silver and copper; blue-, purple-, and red-dyed wool; linen and goat hair; red-dyed rams’ skins, tachash skins, and acacia wood; oil for lighting, and spices for the anointing oil and the incense; shoham stones and gemstones for setting in the ephod and in the breastplate.” The above verses are from Exodus 25:3-7, in G-d’s initial instructions to Moses; the list again appears in full in Moses’ repetition of these instructions to the people of Israel (ibid., 35:5-9), and a third time in the Torah’s account of the people’s donation of these materials and G-d’s appointment of Betzalel to head the construction of the Sanctuary (ibid., vs. 22-35).
[9]. In G-d’s instructions to Moses (ibid., chs. 25-27); in G-d’s instructions to anoint the Sanctuary’s parts and “vessels” (30:26-28); in G-d’s appointment of Betzalel (31:7-11); in Moses’ instruction to the people (35:11-19); in the Torah’s account of the making of the parts and vessels of the Sanctuary (36:8-39:32); in the Torah’s account of how the finished parts and vessels were brought to Moses (39:33-41); in G-d’s instructions to Moses to erect and anoint the Sanctuary (40:3-11); and in the account of the Sanctuary’s erection (40:18-33).
[10]. Likkutei Sichot, vol. XXV, pp. 424-435.
Tags: spiritual and material, Divine dwelling, self-develoment, purpose of life, transformation
Posted in Weekly Parsha, Shmot, Torah, Pikudei | No Comments »
August 5th, 2015
When the kohen (priest) entered the chamber where the menorah stood in the Holy Temple to kindle its lamps each afternoon, he found them fully prepared for lighting: earlier in the day, the lamps had been cleaned and filled with oil, and fresh wicks had been inserted. All he had to do was bring near the flame he carried, so that by its mere proximity to the waiting lamp it would ignite the latent energy and luminary potential which the lamp already held.
Therein lies an important lesson to the spiritual “lamplighter”: do not think that you are achieving anything that your fellow could not, in truth, achieve on his own; do not think that you are giving him something he does not already possess. The soul of your fellow is a ready lamp, filled with the purest oil and equipped with all that is required to convert its fuel into a blazing flame. It only lacks the proximity of another lamp to ignite it. If your own soul is alight, its contact with another’s soul will awaken its luminous potential, so that it may illuminate its surroundings and ignite other souls, in turn.
Adapted from the teachings of the Rebbe by Yanki Tauber
Tags: soul, Yanki Tauber, Temple
Posted in Weekly Parsha, Behalotcha, Bamidbar, Torah | No Comments »
August 5th, 2015
“My tongue,” sings the Psalmist, “is a scribe’s quill.”[13]
“Just as the scribe’s quill,” rejoined a chassid, “must be dipped in ink before it can express itself in writing, the tongue, too, must be dipped—in l’chayim—so that it could convey what lies in its heart.”[14]
Adapted from the teachings of the Lubavitcher Rebbe by Yanki Tauber.
[14]. Told by Rabbi Moshe Rubin (The Albany Haggadah, p. 24).
Tags: purim, Yanki Tauber
Posted in Purim, Months & Holidays, Adar, Torah | No Comments »
August 5th, 2015
Said Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak of Lubavitch:
When I was a child attending cheder, our teacher, Rabbi Nissan Skoblo, would conclude each day of study with a story.
In our little village, where matches were a luxury, the custom was to bury a smoldering coal from the day’s fire in ashes before retiring to bed in the evening. In the morning, one would blow on this coal and bring forth a spark with which to start the new day’s fire.
Such was the effect of our teacher’s story at the end of the school day. Every evening, he would bury a silent ember in our hearts, from which he would draw a renewed desire for study on the following morning.
Tags: inspiration, story
Posted in Torah Personalities, Modern, Torah, Rebbe Rayatz | No Comments »
August 5th, 2015
As the soul fills the body, so G-d fills the world.
Talmud, Berachot 30a
The turning point in the story of Purim comes with the opening verse of Chapter Six in the Book of Esther: “That night, the king’s sleep was disturbed….” Achashveirosh’s sleepless night set in motion a series of events that led to Mordechai’s rise, Haman’s downfall, and the salvation of the people of Israel. Thus it is customary that in the public reading of the Book of Esther on Purim the reader raises his voice when he comes to this verse—to indicate that this point marks the beginning of the miracle of Purim.
The Torah is more than a chronicler of events and a legislator of laws—within the external meaning of its verses lie layer upon layer of significance, describing the essence of the human soul, of creation and reality, and of G-d’s relationship with our existence. In the words of Nachmanides, “The Torah discusses the ephemeral reality and alludes to the supernal reality.”[13] The same is true of the events recounted in the Book of Esther: in the supernal version, “King Achashveirosh” is the “King Who the End and Beginning are His,”[14] and “Esther” is His bride, the people of Israel.
The state of galut (exile), in which G-d’s chosen people are subject to alien powers and exposed to danger and persecution—in which “the righteous suffer and the wicked prevail”—is a state of “sleep” of the supernal King. Physical sleep brings about a distortion of the bond between body and soul and a topsy-turvy state of affairs within the human being: the sleeper’s higher faculties, such as his intellect and sensory tools, are fuzzy and incoherent, while his lower faculties are unaffected; some of them (e.g., the digestive system) even function better during sleep. Sleep is thus the metaphor for a state of affairs in which the connection between the Soul of the World and the body of creation is likewise distorted. G-d grants existence and life to His creations in a manner that is much like the soul/body relationship during sleep: the good inherent in man is unfocused and obscured, while the baser elements of man and humanity flourish.
But “That night, the King’s sleep was disturbed.” That night the Almighty woke from His “slumber” restored His true priorities vis-a-vis the various components of creation.
From a discourse delivered by the Rebbe on Purim 5743 (1983)
Adapted from the teachings of the Lubavitcher Rebbe by Yanki Tauber
[13]. Introduction to the Book of Genesis.
[14]. Achashveirosh is an acronym of the Hebrew words acharit vereishit shelo—“the end and the beginning are His.”
Tags: exile, Achashverosh, body and soul, Physicality, reality, Intellect, human being, galut, miracle, sleeping, internal, creation, Torah, Esther, relationships, Mordechai, soul, Haman
Posted in Purim, Soul & Mystical, Months & Holidays, Miracles, Daily Life, Spiritual, Life Cycles, Adar, Torah | No Comments »
August 5th, 2015
Purim Greetings
from Simon Jacobson
May you be turned inside out
upside down
and outside in
May your masks be masked
and your inside unmasked
May your countenance (panim) shine from within (panim)
as you meet yourself face to face
May your masquerade no longer be needed
as the shrouds fade away
May your child smile and dance
as the facade is lifted
May you just be
Tags: inner self, self, poetry, self awareness, purim, self expression, emotions, face, happiness, dance, soul, psyche
Posted in Purim, Months & Holidays, Personal Life, Adar, Torah, Emotions & Psychology | No Comments »
August 5th, 2015
Why was annihilation decreed on the Jews of that generation? Because they enjoyed the feast of the wicked [King Achashverosh]
Talmud, Megillah 12a
Was participating in the feast of Achashverosh so grave a sin that it deserved a decree of annihilation, G-d forbid? Indeed, the Book of Esther implies that it was no sin at all, even desirable and necessary. We are told that Achashverosh had instructed that no man be pressured to partake of any food or drink that did not agree with his constitution or his religious beliefs. He had even arranged for kosher food for his Jewish subjects, in full conformity with the exacting standards of none other than Mordechai himself![1]
And the Jewish people had many compelling reasons to attend the week-long banquet thrown by the king to celebrate the consolidation of his rule over the 127 provinces of the Persian Empire. All residents of the capital were invited, and to turn down the royal invitation would have been a grievous insult—something that a small minority, scattered throughout the empire and threatened by many enemies, could ill afford to do. It is true that the Jews are not like the other nations of the world, whose fortune rises and falls with the political tide. In the words of the Talmud, “the people of Israel are not subject to ‘fate,’”[2] for they are under the singular province of G-d. Indeed, our millennia of survival as a “lone sheep surrounded by seventy wolves”[3] belies every law of history. But it is also true that we are commanded to construct a natural “vessel” through which the divine protection and blessing might flow.[4] Surely the Jews of Persia recalled the words spoken by the prophet Jeremiah seventy years earlier, when they were first exiled from their homeland: “Seek the peace of the city to which I have exiled you, and pray for it… for in its peace shall you have peace.” [5]
In any case, even if there were something amiss in the Jewish attendance at the feast of Achashverosh, was this a transgression so terrible that it warranted Haman being given the prerogative to “annihilate, slaughter and destroy every Jew, young and old, women and children, in a single day”[6]?
Jews in Politics
But the problem was not that they participated in the feast; it was that “they enjoyed the feast” of the Emperor of Persia.
Certainly, the Jew in exile is commanded to employ the tools that, by natural criteria, aid his survival under foreign rule. But he must always remember that this is no more than a “vessel” for G-d’s protection. Politics, business, natural law—these are no more than a front, an elaborate façade which G-d desires that we construct to encase and disguise His supra-natural providence of our lives; they are not something to be revered, much less to get excited about.
But the Jews experienced joy at having been invited to Achashverosh’s feast. As they took their places among the Persians, Medians, Babylonians, Chaldeans and the other nationalities of the realm, they felt content and secure. After seventy years of exile, they had “made it”; they were now a member of equal standing in the family of nations at Achashverosh’s table, with glatt kosher dinners issuing from the royal kitchens.
With their joy, the Jews disavowed their uniqueness as a nation under the special protection of G-d. Their feelings demonstrated that they now perceived the niche they had carved for themselves in the good graces of an earthly emperor as the basis for their survival. But the world they so gleefully entered is a capricious one. One day a Jew, Mordechai, is a high-ranking minister in Achashverosh’s court and another Jew, Esther, is his favorite queen; a day later, Haman becomes prime minister and prevails upon Achashverosh to sign a decree of annihilation against the Jewish people.
The Reversal
When Mordechai informed Esther of Haman’s plans and enjoined her to use her influence with the king to annul the decree, Esther told him to
“gather all the Jews who are in Shushan, and fast for my sake—do not eat or drink for three days, night and day; I and my maidens will likewise fast. Thus I shall go to the king, against the law…”[7]
It was forbidden, on pain of death, for anyone to go to the king unsummoned. Esther’s only chance was to charm the king into not killing her and to turn him against his favorite minister in favor of her people. The last thing for her to do under such circumstances was to approach the king looking like a woman who had not eaten for three days!
So dictate the norms of human nature and palace politics. But Esther recognized that the key to saving her people was to reestablish the relationship between G-d and Israel on its original, supra-natural terms. The Jews must repent their regression to a political people; they must draw on their only true resource—G-d’s love for them and His commitment to their survival. They must storm the gates of heaven with their fasting and prayer, and rouse His compassion for His people.
Of course, she must go to Achashverosh and do everything in her power to make him change his mind. But this is merely a formality. She must go through the motions of doing things the “normal” way because that is what G-d wants her to do—because this is the garment in which He chooses to cloak His salvation. But she will not appeal less fervently to G-d because she fears it will make her less attractive to Achashverosh—that would be like a soldier discarding his rifle because it creases his uniform.
Thus Esther rectified the error of those who enjoyed Achashverosh’s feast. They had exalted the façade, abandoning the essence of Jewish survival for the sake of the superficial vessel. Esther’s approach to dealing with the threat of Haman’s decree reiterated the true priority of the Jew, and evoked G-d’s reassertion of His singular providence over the fate of Israel.
Based on the Rebbe’s talks on Purim 5722 (1962) and 5727 (1967)[8]
By Yanki Tauber.
______________________
[1]. Esther 1:8; Targum ibid; Talmud, Megillah 12a.
[2]. Talmud, Shabbat 156a; et al.
[3]. Midrash Rabbah, Esther 10:11; et al.
[4]. Cf. Deuteronomy 15:18: “G-d will bless you in all that you will do”; see discourses on this verse by Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi (Sefer HaMaamarim 5565, vol. II, p. 648; 5568, vol. I, p. 165), Rabbi DovBer of Lubavitch (introduction to Derech HaChaim), Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Lubavitch (Derech Mitzvotecha, Mitzvat Tiglachat Metzora, ch. 2), and Rabbi Sholom DovBer of Lubavitch (Kuntres U’Maayan, Maamar 17).
[8]. Likkutei Sichot, vol. XXXI, pp. 170-176.
Tags: prayer, compassion, Persia, politics, jewish survival, fasting, spiritual, repentance, Jewish nation, prophecy, destruction, Esther, connection with G-d, Mordechai, feast, Haman, divine providence, Achashverosh, exile, assimilation
Posted in Purim, Months & Holidays, Religion, Beliefs & Concepts, Exile, Spiritual, Adar, Torah | No Comments »
