Informed Debate

June 18th, 2015

Rabbi Naftali of Ropshitz once overheard two people engaged in a bitter argument, which soon disintegrated into an exchange of shouted insults.

“May I suggest,” said the Chassidic rebbe to the combatants, “that the two of you exchange roles. Instead of broadcasting the other’s defects and shortcomings, each of you should announce his own.”

“The net result would be the same –  now, too, both of you are being revile – but with two significant gains. First of all, the insults will be more accurate, since a person has far better knowledge of his own faults than of those of his fellow. Secondly, it is a grave sin to insult a fellow man, and a significantly less serious offense to embarrass oneself.”

Adapted from the teachings of the Rebbe by Yanki Tauber

Tags: inspiration, story, faults, emotions, anger, Chassidus
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Voices

June 18th, 2015

Our sages tell us that “Every day, an echo resounds from Mount Sinai” beckoning to man to come close to G-d.[19]

Said Rabbi Israel Baal Shem Tov: Have you ever met someone who told you that he hears this echo? To what purpose is this proclamation if no one hears it?

But often a person is seized by a feeling that has no identifiable source or cause. He may be struck with a sudden joy, or fear, or regret. He may suddenly resolve to turn a new leaf in his life, to embark on a new initiative in his spiritual development. From where do these unprovoked awakenings come?

Every day, an echo resounds from Mount Sinai.

Adapted from the teachings of the Rebbe by Yanki Tauber

Tags: Baal Shem Tov, Mt. Sinai, inspiration, G-d
Posted in Bamidbar, Weekly Parsha, Months & Holidays, Pirkei Avos, Bamidbar, Ethics of Our Fathers, Nisan, Torah, Emotions & Psychology | No Comments »

Inflation

June 18th, 2015

What are the differences between the First Passover and the Second Passover? On the First Passover, [leaven] is forbidden to be seen or to be found [in one’s possession]; on the Second Passover, leaven and matzah coexist in one’s home…

Talmud, Pesachim 95a

A mitzvah is a commandment—G-d instructing man what He desires for man to do or not do. Understandably, then, virtually all of the Torah’s 613 mitzvot are unilateral declarations of divine will: one does not see many “proposals” for mitzvot being presented to G-d, or “negotiations” between the supreme legislator and His earthly constituents.

One of the rare exceptions[1] to this norm is the mitzvah of Pesach Sheini, the “Second Passover.” The First Passover, as we all know, commences on the evening following the 14th of Nissan, the night that the Jewish people were liberated from Egypt. The Second Passover comes one month later, on the 14th of Iyar, and was instituted as a result of a petition by several individuals who were unable to participate in the First Passover.

At the heart of Passover is the korban pesach (the “paschal lamb”), which was offered in the Holy Temple on the afternoon of the 14th of Nissan—indeed, all other observances of the festival (the eating of matzah and maror, the prohibition against leaven), as well as the festival’s very name, are related to the Passover offering. The laws of korban pesach mandate that only those who are in a state of taharah (ritual purity) may offer and partake of it. One year after the Exodus, as the Jewish people were preparing to celebrate their first Passover outside Egypt, a group of Jews approached Moses. They explained that they were ritually impure because they had come in contact with a corpse; the law would therefore preclude their bringing a korban pesach. But they refused to reconcile themselves to this. “Why should we be deprived?!” they cried; why should we be excluded from observing the festival of redemption, as will the entire community of Israel? G-d responded by instituting a second Passover especially for those who, for whatever reason, were prevented from offering the korban pesach in its appointed time.[2]

An Exception and Its Exception

Those who offer the korban pesach on the 14th of Iyar follow the same basic procedure as those who brought it one month earlier, on the First Passover. There are, however, several legal and procedural distinctions between the two Passovers, the most important of which concerns the prohibition against leaven. On the First Passover, leaven is strictly forbidden from noon of the 14th of Nissan (the earliest time at which thekorban pesach can be brought) until the conclusion of the festival; throughout this period, no leaven may be eaten, used in any way, or even be present in one’s domain. On the Second Passover, however, this prohibition does not apply. While the korban pesach is to be eaten with matzah, the unleavened bread, there is no mandated exclusion of leaven; in the words of the Talmud, “leaven and matzah coexist in one’s home.”

Leaven is dough that has “risen”—flour and water that have come in contact and have been allowed to ferment, with the effect that the mixture has bloated and exaggerated its mass. Leaven is thus the symbol of egotism and pride—a “leavened” soul is one in whom the ferment of self-importance has caused him to lose sight of his true place in G-d’s world, with the result that he recognizes only his bloated self and its inflated wants.

This explains why the prohibition against leaven on Passover is so severe and uncompromising: in no other instance does the Torah not only forbid the consumption of, or derivation of benefit from, even the smallest quantity of a substance, but also its very existence in our possession. But egotism and pride is not just another undesirable trait—it is the source of all evil in the heart of man. Every sin and vice originates in an assertion of ego—with the sense that the self is supreme and that its needs and desires take precedence to all else. Thus, in his Laws of Human Character,[3] Maimonides advises that in all traits a person should pursue the “Golden Mean,”[4] with a single exception: pride. Pride must be vanquished utterly.

This is not to say that there is nothing positive in the stimulation of ego. Indeed, no phenomenon in G-d’s world is intrinsically negative, for all derives from Him, and He is the essence of good.[5] But while we have been empowered to exploit many ostensibly “negative” traits toward a productive and G-dly end, there also exist forces that are so potent, and whose potential for corruption is so devastating, that we must renounce them as beyond our capacity to deal with. One such element is pride: we must reject it unequivocally, as any attempt to make positive use of it is bound to fail and be counterproductive.

There are times, however, when the positive core of a most negative phenomenon rises to the surface, when its G-dly essence asserts itself over all iniquitous expressions and corrupting possibilities. Such was the case with the group of individuals who approached Moses in the desert: their “me” instinct asserted itself not in the form of a desire for dominance or corporeal gratification, but in a soul-searing desire to serve their Creator. The cry “Why should we be deprived?!” expressed not a need to have and be, but a yen to give and serve, to recognize and submit to the divine grantor of their freedom. In their petition, the ferment and “leavening” of their selves was not the antithesis of humble and self-effacing matzah, but rather its complement. Leaven and matzah coexisted in their souls, ego giving rise to commitment, self-realization giving rise to an affirmation of man’s indebtedness to
G-d.

On the “Second Passover,” the festival that came into being out of their “selfish” cry, there is no need to banish leaven from our homes. For when the self thus asserts itself, it is a welcome participant in our celebration of the freedom we achieved at the Exodus—the freedom to be G-d’s people.

Based on the Rebbe’s talks on various occasions [6]

Adapted from the teachings of the Lubavitcher Rebbe by Yanki Tauber.

Tags: sacrifices and offerings, ego, self, self awareness, passover, bread, parsha, Talmud, Jewish law
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Equestrian Illusions

June 18th, 2015

While passing through a marketplace, Rabbi Kehot of Veritch, a disciple of Rabbi Israel Baal Shem Tov, overheard a conversation between two horse dealers.

“I was thinking,” said one to the other. “What does the psalmist mean when he says, ‘Do not be as a horse, or a mule, without understanding, their mouths stopped with bit and bridle’[1]? Well, when you put a bit in a horse’s mouth, he thinks that you are giving him something to practice his chewing on. Don’t be like a horse, King David is saying. When your Heavenly Master sends something your way, understand that it is more than something to chew on…”

Rabbi Kehot related this exchange to his teacher. The Baal Shem Tov was greatly excited by the horse dealer’s insight, and was inspired to a state of d’veikut (meditative attachment to G-d). In his ecstasy, the Baal Shem Tov began to sing a melody. This is the melody to which the rebbes of Chabad would pray on the first night of Rosh Hashanah.

Adapted from the teachings of the Rebbe by Yanki Tauber

Tags: Baal Shem Tov, Chassidic stories, song, chassidic melody
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Making it Count

June 18th, 2015

You shall count for yourselves, from the morrow of the Shabbat, from the day on which you bring the raised omer—seven complete weeks shall there be. Until the morrow of the seventh week, you shall count fifty days.

Leviticus 23:15-16

One of the Chassidic masters explained the significance of Sefirat HaOmer—the daily counting of the days and weeks from Passover to Shavuot commanded by the Torah—with the following parable:

A person finds a chest full of gold coins, takes it home, and then proceeds to count them. His counting has no effect on the actual number of coins in his possession: he now has no more and no less than he had before he counted them. But counting them makes them real to him; he can now digest the significance of his find and deliberate how to make use of it.

On the first day of Passover, we were granted the entire “treasure chest.” The moment of the Exodus—the moment of our birth as a people—encapsulated within it our entire history. Then, on the following day, began the count: the process of examining our gifts, quantifying and itemizing them, translating them into the resources of our daily lives.

Tags: omer, self-improvement, self-discovery, Chassidic stories, Exodus from Egypt, Counting the Omer, passover
Posted in Weekly Parsha, Counting the Omer, Vayikra, Nisan, Torah, Behar, Bechukotai | 1 Comment »

Communication

June 18th, 2015

Our sages have said:

“Words that come from the heart, enter the heart.”

Said the Lubavitcher Rebbe:

“It therefore follows that if you seek to correct a failing of your fellow and are unsuccessful, the fault lies not with him, but with yourself. Had you truly been sincere, your words would certainly have had an effect.”

Adapted from the teachings of the Rebbe by Yanki Tauber

Tags: self-improvement, Rebbe, self-discovery, communication, friendship
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Ulterior Motives

June 18th, 2015

A love that is dependent on something – when the thing ceases, the love also ceases.  But a love that is not dependent on anything never ceases.  Which is a love that is dependent on something? The love of Amnon for Tamar. And one that is not dependent on anything? The love of David and Jonathan.

Ethics of the Fathers 5:16

On the surface, the difference between these two types of love seems obvious. The first is an attraction and connection between two people that is based on some ulterior motive: the lover wishes to benefit in some way from his relationship with the beloved. But beauty may fade, physical passion wane, “common interests” grow less interesting; people whose ideas and whose company we once found stimulating can become repetitious and unexciting. Bereft of its cause and basis, such love dissipates. But a truly altruistic love, a love in which two souls bond and fuse with no external motives or reasons, is eternal and invincible.

But a closer examination of the two examples cited by the Ethics yields some interesting results. The story of Amnon and Tamar is related in Samuel II chapter 13: Amnon was stricken by an incestuous desire for his sister Tamar and forced himself on her. His lust sated, “Amnon hated her… with a hatred that was greater than the love with which he had loved her” (ibid, 13:16).

As brother and sister, Amnon and Tamar were connected by an intrinsic bond that is not based on any external causes. The bond between siblings, as the bond between parent and child, stems from the fact that they are “one flesh”; it is a quintessential bond, one that is not caused by the beloved’s goodness, intelligence, physical beauty or any other such factors. Nevertheless, though this bond always exists, it is not always expressed in a person’s consciousness and behavior. It may lie dormant in the depths of one’s heart for years. Or, it may manifest itself only in the form of a lesser, externally motivated love, one that is limited to an appreciation of the beloved’s qualities. In the case of Amnon, his love for his sister was expressed only in the corrupt form of incestuous desire.

In other words, the example of Amnon’s love for and subsequent hate of Tamar illustrates that even a relationship which is in essence altruistic can be expressed in a way that makes it dependent on secondary factors. When this happens, these secondary elements become vital to the relationship – without them, the love cannot survive, at least not on any conscious level.

On the other hand, the love between David and Jonathan began as an ordinary friendship between two people with no intrinsic connection to each other – a friendship that is based on one’s appreciation and enjoyment of the other’s positive qualities. Yet their friendship developed into a truly altruistic love:

“Jonathan’s soul became bound to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul.” (Samuel I 18:1)

Jonathan risked his life for David even though David’s very existence was to his detriment: Jonathan, the eldest son of King Saul, was initially destined to succeed his father as king of Israel. When Saul learned that David had been anointed by the prophet Samuel to be the next king, he wished to kill him; it was Jonathan who repeatedly saved David from Saul’s plans, telling David “You shall be king over Israel, and I shall be second to you” (ibid, 23:17).

It is therefore significant that the Ethics speaks of “a love that is dependent on something” and “a love that is not dependent on anything,” using the term “dependent on” (t’luyah) as opposed to “based on” or “caused by.” As the examples of Amnon and Jonathan demonstrate, the original cause and basis for a relationship does not, in itself, determine the nature of its expression. A quintessential love may be experienced only as something which is dependent on external factors, in which case the nature of the relationship is that of “a love that is dependent on something.” And a relationship that is initially based on “ulterior” motives can develop into “a love that is not dependent on anything.”

From Within

In his Mishneh Torah, Maimonides dwells on the significance of the concept of “love of G-d.”  In chapter 10 of The Laws of Repentance he writes:

“One who serves G-d out of love occupies himself with the Torah and the mitzvot and follows the pathways of wisdom not for any reason in the world – not out of fear of evil or out of a desire to inherit the good; rather, he does the truth because it is true…  This is the level which G-d enjoins us to attain, as it is written ‘You shall love the L-rd your G-d.’ When a person loves G-d with a proper love, he observes the mitzvot out of love…
“One who occupies himself with the Torah in order to receive reward or to escape punishment is doing it not for its own sake (shelo lishmah). And one who occupies himself with it… out of a love for the Master of the Universe who has commanded it to us is doing it for its own sake (lishmah). Said our sages: ‘A person should always occupy himself with the Torah, even if he is doing it not for its own sake; since from doing it not for its own sake he will come to do it for its own sake.’ ”

Chassidic teaching takes this a step further. Not only is doing the right thing for the wrong reasons desirable because it will ultimately lead to a more perfect state in which one “does the truth because it is true,” but even now, before attaining this higher state, one is doing it for the right reasons. While his conscious self may focus on the physical and spiritual benefits of leading a righteous life, deep down, in his heart of hearts, there is a part of him that is intrinsically connected to the truth and desires it in a purely altruistic manner. This idea is also expressed in the saying which Maimonides quotes. The Hebrew word mitoch means “from within”; so a literal translation of the saying would read:

“A person should always occupy himself with the Torah, even if he is doing it not for its own sake, since from within his doing it not for its own sake he will come to do it for its own sake.”

In other words, within a person’s ulterior motives lies a deeper truth – the desire, rooted in the very essence of his soul, to do what is right for its own sake.

However, this quintessential self is not, at the present phase of his spiritual development, expressed in his conscious feelings and day-to-day behavior. So although his desire to fulfill the Divine will “contains” a purely selfless love for G-d, his relationship with the Almighty is dependent upon other, external factors: his appreciation of how he would benefit, materially and spiritually, by leading a Torah-true life.

Superficial But Crucial

Therein lies a two-fold lesson of the Ethics’ discussion of “dependent” and “independent” love.

If you find that the good that you do is “tainted” with ulterior motives, do not discount the value of what you are doing. Ultimately, as the love of David and Jonathan demonstrates, a feeling originally born out of external causes can grow into “a love that is not dependent on anything” and ever-enduring. For at the core of your deeds and feelings lies a pure, altruistic commitment to your Creator and to the purpose of your creation. By being true to this commitment in your daily life, you will ultimately cause it to be realized also as an expressed and tangible feeling in your heart.

But one may take this to the other extreme, and say to himself: “If I indeed subconsciously possess a selfless love for the Almighty, why not rid myself of my imperfect feelings? Had I not best banish every self-oriented motive from my heart, so that my true nature may come to light?

So the Ethics cites the case of Amnon as its example for “a love that is dependent on something.” Although a quintessential bond underlay his relationship to Tamar, it did not “come to light” when his selfish love was undone. For though this bond did exist, it did not find expression in his feelings toward his sister. So when his “dependent love” lost its basis, it was replaced not by an altruistic love but by hatred and revulsion.

In Amnon’s case, his selfish “love” for his sister was corrupt and ruinous. But the lesson to be derived from it concerns the positive application of “dependent love.” It teaches us that our sense of how G-d’s Torah is beneficial to our lives must be fostered and cultivated. One must remember that “a love that is dependent on something – when the thing ceases, the love also ceases”; that as long as a person has not yet translated his quintessential love for G-d into a manifest feeling in his heart these external factors are vital to his relationship with the Almighty, as expressed in his conscious thoughts and feelings and in his day-to-day behavior.

From an address by the Rebbe, Shabbat Bechukosai 5733 (May 26, 1973)

Adapted from the teachings of the Rebbe by Yanki Tauber

Tags: True love, truth, love, relationships, Chassidus, friendship, Maimonides
Posted in Weekly Parsha, Vayikra, Torah, Bechukotai | 1 Comment »

Playing G-d

June 18th, 2015

Upon the passing of Rabbi Israel Baal Shem Tov in 1760, the center of Chassidic teaching shifted to the town of Mezheritch, home of the Baal Shem Tov’s successor, the famed “Maggid,” Rabbi DovBer.

Late one night, a group of the Maggid’s disciples were discussing the state of the universe.

“If G-d would entrust me with the running of His world,” said one, “I would gather all the gold in the world and give it to the Jewish people, so that they should be able to serve the Almighty free of all material cares.”

“If I were running the world,” said another, “I would heal all the sick and banish all pain and suffering from the face of the earth.”

“And I would eradicate the inclination for evil from the heart of man,” said a third. “Then we would have a world that befits the goodness and perfection of its Creator.”

The youngest of the Maggid’s disciples, Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, then spoke. “If I were in G-d’s place,” said he, “I would run the world exactly as He does.”

Adapted from the teachings of the Rebbe by Yanki Tauber

Tags: G-d, betachon, clarity, Rabbi Schneur Zalmon of Liadi, story, Chassidus, worlds, Baal Shem Tov, Maggid of Mezerich, choice
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Few and Deficient

June 17th, 2015

And Pharaoh asked Jacob: “How many are the years of your life?” And Jacob replied to Pharaoh: “The years of my sojourning are one hundred and thirty. Few and deficient have been the years of my life, and they have not attained the days of the lives of my fathers…”

Genesis 47:8-9

Most of us are satisfied with reasonable aspirations: develop your mind, make ends meet, live in peace with your neighbors. But every so often we encounter one of those rare individuals (not a perfectionist, just holy) who cannot relish his meal as long as someone, somewhere, remains hungry; who, if there is ignorance in the world, feels his own wisdom deficient; who, if there is discord anywhere in the universe, cannot be at peace with himself.

Such a man was Jacob. Of the three founding fathers of the Jewish nation, only Jacob’s names (“Jacob” and “Israel”) are synonymous with “The Jewish People.” For Jacob lived not an individual’s life, nor were his an individual’s struggles and aspirations. His earthly life and deeds were but the beginnings of the thirty-five century saga of Israel.

A Request and its Denial

Our sages describe how, after twenty-two years of exile and strife, “Jacob wished to settle in tranquility. But then there descended upon him the trouble of Joseph.”[24] Why, indeed, was his wish denied him? Surely the 99-year-old Jacob, who emerged from all his trials with his righteousness and integrity intact,[25] deserved his yearned-for respite? Does not the Psalmist promise that “[G-d] does the will of those who fear Him”?[26]

But for Jacob, a personal peace was inseparable from a general state of harmony in G-d’s world. What Jacob sought was not some peace and quiet in his individual life, but the ultimate peace: the  union of spirit and substance, the infusion of meaning into matter. To Jacob, “settling down” was nothing less than the ultimate redemption through Moshiach.

What Jacob sought was not some peace and quiet in his individual life, but the ultimate peace: the  union of spirit and substance, the infusion of meaning into matter.

An initial, immediate granting of Jacob’s request for a struggle-free existence would have resulted in a lesser tranquility, in a harmony more limited in depth and scope than what could be attained only through the painful events of Joseph’s sale and the subsequent exile of the nation of Israel. A peaceful settling down in the Holy Land would be confined to a harmony within Jacob’s most immediate environment; elements outside of this sacred domain would remain excluded, hostile and undeveloped.

Thus, the “trouble of Joseph” that befell Jacob was actually the next step in the realization of the peace he desired. Joseph’s descent into Egypt—the lowliest and most debased of cultures[27]—and his rise from slavery to become ruler and master of the land, enabled Jacob and his family to extend their influence even to this most vile of environments. In a more universal sense, Joseph’s descent into Egypt commenced the Egyptian galut, the prototype and forerunner of all subsequent exiles of Israel. And it is in the arena of galut where Israel’s global-historical calling is realized.

So Jacob, standing before Pharaoh more than five centuries after G-d had set the human lifespan at “one hundred and twenty years,”[28] describes his 130 achievement-filled years as “few and deficient.” Though formidable in number, they are wanting in content, for their efforts still await realization. “They have not attained the days of the lives of my fathers,” said Jacob. My grandfather Abraham “grew old, he came into his days”[29]—at the close of his life his days were full, ripe with the fruit of his labors. Isaac, too, lived a fulfilled life, the life of a “perfect offering.”[30] But unlike my fathers, who closed their cycle of achievement in their physical lifetimes, mine is but an opening chapter in a process that spans history.

Based on an address by the Rebbe, Chanukah 5752.

Adapted from the teachings of the Lubavitcher Rebbe by Yanki Tauber.

_________________________________________________

Tags: old age, exile, purpose of life, life, galut, Jacob, Tzaddik
Posted in Weekly Parsha, Bereishit, Biblical, Beliefs & Concepts, Torah Personalities, Exile, Torah, Jacob, Joseph, Vayigash | No Comments »

Smorgasbord

June 17th, 2015

A man once came to Rabbi Israel Baal Shem Tov (The “Besht,” 1698-1760, founder of the Chassidic movement) and poured out his heart:

“Rebbe!” he cried, “I don’t understand what is happening to me. A while ago, I decided to dedicate myself to the service of the Almighty, and I immediately found myself invigorated with spiritual life: when I prayed, my soul soared in ecstasy; when I studied Torah, the gates of wisdom opened before me; when I did a mitzvah, I was suffused with a wonderful joy. But soon after, I lost it all. My prayers are dry. When I try to study, I stare for hours at the page without comprehending a word. My deeds have become mechanical and devoid of meaning. Rebbe, what happened?”

“Let me tell you a story,” said the Besht. “A man once entered a shop in which all types of delicacies were displayed. He noticed that people were partaking of the food free of charge, with the consent and encouragement of the shopkeeper. So he decided that he, too, should take advantage of the shopkeeper’s generosity. After sampling each dish on the counter, he served himself a generous helping of a particularly appealing food.

“Wait a minute, my friend,” objected the shopkeeper, “that would be 50 kopeks.”

“But I don’t understand,” said the surprised ‘customer.’ “Why are you suddenly demanding payment? Up until now, you allowed me to eat for free!”

“Only because it is in my interest that people sample my wares,” replied the shopkeeper, “so that they may learn how desirable they are. But after you have already tasted them and have appreciated their worth, it’s time to start paying for your pleasure.”

“Nothing worthwhile in life is free of charge,” concluded the Besht, “particularly in matters of the spirit. The sublime pleasures of divine service can be acquired only with the currency of perseverance and toil. Nevertheless, the Almighty offers a free ‘taste’ of His intimacy to all who seek Him with a true heart. But once one has sampled these heavenly wares, it’s time to get to work….”

Adapted from the teachings of the Lubavitcher Rebbe by Yanki Tauber

Tags: Divine service, Torah, purpose, G-d
Posted in Baal Shem Tov, Weekly Parsha, Bereishit, Faith, Religion, Beliefs & Concepts, Torah Personalities, Modern, Spiritual, Torah, Vayigash | No Comments »