March 25th, 2015
See, I am giving you today the blessing and the curse
Deuteronomy 11:26
The blessing and the curse: all phenomena, and all human activity, seem subject to categorization by these two most basic definers of reality. A development is either positive or negative, an occurrence either fortunate or tragic, an act either virtuous or iniquitous.
Indeed, the principle of “free choice”—that man has been granted the absolute autonomy to choose between good and evil—lies at the heart of the Torah’s most basic premise: that human life is purposeful. That our deeds are not predetermined by our nature or any universal law but are the product of our independent volition, making us true “partners with G-d in creation”[1] whose choices and actions effect the continuing development of the world as envisioned by its Creator.[2]
Does evil come from G-d?
Philosophers and theologians of all ages have asked: From where does this dichotomy stem? Does evil come from G-d? If G-d is the exclusive source of all and is the essence of good, can there be evil in His work? If He is the ultimate unity and singularity, can there exist such duality within His potential?
In the words of the prophet Jeremiah, “From the Supernal One’s word/ there cannot emerge/ both evil and good.”[3] Yet the Torah unequivocally states: “See, I am giving you today the blessing and the curse”—I, and no other, am the exclusive source and grantor of both.
Transmutation
One approach to understanding the Torah’s conception of “the blessing and the curse” is to see how this verse is rendered by the great translators of Torah.
Concealed good: It is in the interpretation.
Aramaic, which was widely spoken by the Jewish people for fifteen centuries, is the “second language” of the Torah. It is the language of the Talmud, and even of several biblical chapters. There are also a number of important Aramaic translations of the Torah, including one compiled at the end of the first century ce by Onkelos, a Roman convert to Judaism who was a nephew of the Emperor Titus; and a translation compiled a half-century earlier by the great Talmudic sage Rabbi Yonatan ben Uziel.
In Onkelus’ translation, the Hebrew word kelalah in the above-quoted verse is translated literally as “curse” (lotin in the Aramaic). But in Rabbi Yonatan’s translation, the verse appears thus: “See, I am giving you today the blessing and its transmutation.” The author is not merely avoiding the unsavory term “curse”—he himself uses that term but three verses later in Deuteronomy 11:29, and in a number of other places in the Torah where the word kelalah appears.[4] Also, if Rabbi Yonatan just wanted to avoid using a negative expression, he would have written “the blessing and its opposite” or some similar euphemism. The Aramaic word he uses, chilufa, means “exchange” and “transmutation,” implying that “the curse” is something which devolves from the blessing and is thus an alternate form of the same essence.
In the words of our sages, “No evil descends from heaven”—only two types of good.[5] The first is a “blatant” and obvious good—a good which can only be experienced as such in our lives. The other is also good, for nothing but good can “emerge from the Supernal One”; but it is a “concealed good,” a good that is subject to how we choose to receive and experience it. Because of the free choice granted us, it is in our power to distort these heavenly blessings into curses, to subvert these positive energies into negative forces.
Onkelos’ is the more “literal” of the two translations. Its purpose is to provide the student with the most rudimentary meaning of the verse. The verse, in the Hebrew, says “the blessing and the curse,” and Onkelos renders it as such in the Aramaic. Anyone searching for the deeper significance of the negative in our world must refer to those Torah texts which address such issues.
On the other hand, the translation of Rabbi Yonatan ben Uziel provides a more esoteric interpretation of the Torah, incorporating many Midrashic and Talmudic insights. So instead of simply calling “the curse” a curse, it alludes to the true significance of what we experience as evil in our lives. In essence, Rabbi Yonatan is telling us, what G-d gives is good; but G-d has granted us the ability to experience both “the blessing and its transmutation”—to divert His goodness to destructive ends, G-d forbid.
This also explains why Rabbi Yonatan translates kelalah as “transmutation” in the above-cited verse (verse 26) and in a later verse (verse 28), yet in verse 29 he renders it literally as “curse,” in the manner of Onkelos. In light of the above, the reason for the differentiation is clear: the first two verses speak of G-d’s giving us both a blessing and a “curse”; but G-d does not give curses—only the option and capability to “transmute” His blessings. On the other hand, the third verse (“And it shall come to pass, when the L-rd your G-d has brought you into the land … you shall declare the blessing on Mount Gerizim and the curse on Mount Eval”) speaks of our articulation of the two pathways of life, where the “concealed good” can be received and perceived as an actual “curse.”[6]
Galut
On a deeper level, the different perspectives on the nature of evil expressed by these two Aramaic translations of the Torah reflect the spiritual-historical circumstances under which they were compiled.
Galut, the state of physical and spiritual displacement in which we have found ourselves since the destruction of the Holy Temple and our exile from our land nearly 2000 years ago, is a primary cause for the distortion of G-d’s blessing into “its transmutation.” When the people of Israel inhabited the Holy Land and experienced the manifest presence of the Almighty in the Holy Temple in Jerusalem, they experienced the divine truth was a tactual reality. The intrinsic goodness and perfection of all that comes from G-d was openly perceivable and accessible.
Galut, on the other hand, is a state of being which veils and distorts our soul’s inner vision, making it far more difficult to relate to the divine essence in every event and experience of our lives. Galut is an environment in which the “concealed good” that is granted us is all too readily transmuted into negativity and evil.
The translation by Rabbi Yonatan ben Uziel, also called the “Jerusalem Translation,”[7] was compiled in the Holy Land in the generation before the Temple’s destruction. The very fact that its authorship was necessary—the fact that for many Jews the language of the Torah was no longer their mother tongue and the word of G-d was accessible only through the medium of a vernacular—bespeaks the encroaching galut. The “concealed good” was already being experienced as something other than an expression of G-d’s loving relationship with us.
Still, in Rabbi Yonatan’s day the Holy Temple stood in Jerusalem. The descending veil of galut was translucent still, allowing the recognition, if not the experience, of the true nature of reality. One was aware that what one perceived as negative in one’s life was a distortion of the divine goodness.
The Onkelus Translation was compiled a generation later by the nephew of the Roman Emperor who destroyed the Holy Temple and drove the people of Israel into exile. In Onkelus’ day, the galut had intensified to the point that the prevalent reality was that of a world dichotomized by good and evil, a world in which the “concealed good” is regarded as simply “the curse.”
But it is precisely such a world that offers the ultimate in freedom of choice, which, in turn, lends true import and significance to the deeds of man. It is precisely such a world that poses the greater—and more rewarding—challenge to reveal the underlying goodness, unity and perfection of G-d’s creation.
Based on an address by the Rebbe, Shabbat Re’eh 5726 (August 13, 1966)[8]. Adapted from the teachings of the Rebbe by Yanki Tauber.
__________________________________________________
[1] Talmud, Shabbat 10a, et al.
[2] In the words of Maimonides: “Freedom of choice has been granted to every man. If he desires to turn to the path of good and be a righteous person, the option is in his hands; if he desires to turn to the path of evil and be a wicked person, the option is in his hands…. There is no one who compels him, decrees on him or draws him to any one of these two paths-only he, by his own self and mind, turns to whichever path he desires.…
“This concept is a fundamental principle and a pillar of the Torah and its commandments…. For were G-d to decree that a person be righteous or wicked, or if there were to exist something in the person’s inborn nature which would compel him toward a specific path, a specific conviction, a specific character trait or a specific deed… how could G-d command us through the prophets, ‘Do this’ and ‘Do not do this,’ ‘Improve your ways’ and ‘Do not follow your wickedness’…? What place would the entire Torah have? And by what measure of justice would G-d punish the wicked and reward the righteous…?” (Mishneh Torah, Laws of Repentance 5:14)..
[4] . E.g., Deuteronomy 23:6 and 27:13.
[5] . Midrash Rabbah, Bereishit 51:3; Tanya, Iggeret HaKodesh section 11.
[6] . By the same token, the other instances in which Rabbi Yonatan translates kelalah as “curse” (see note 3 above) likewise speak of human articulation and experience of evil; and the other instances in which kelalah is rendered “the transmutation” of blessing (e.g., Deuteronomy 30, verses 1 and 19), the verse likewise speaks of G-d’s granting us a twofold path for life.
[7] . Certain editions of the Chumash include both a “Translation of Yonatan ben Uziel” as well as a “Jerusalem Translation.” According to most commentaries, these are two versions of the same work.
[8] . Likkutei Sichot, vol. XIX, pp. 133ff.
Tags: transformation, free choice, good and evil, blessings and curses
Posted in Weekly Parsha, Good & Evil, Beliefs & Concepts, Re'eh, Free Choice, Devarim, Torah | No Comments »
March 25th, 2015
The most solemn and sacred part of our daily prayers is the amidah (“standing” prayer), where the soul achieves the height of intimacy in its communion with its Creator. So sacrosanct is this prayer that the Talmud instructs: “Even if a king greets him, he should not respond; even if a snake is coiled around his heel, he should not interrupt.”
However, the Talmud goes on to qualify this law by explaining that the “snake” in question is one whose venom is not life-threatening. Thus, if a scorpion, whose sting can be fatal, threatens a person while he is praying, he should interrupt his prayers.
Like the human being it comes to instruct, the Torah consists of a “body”—a code of law that governs the physical life of man—as well as a “soul”—an inner dimension that addresses our spiritual selves. And every part of the Torah’s body has its counterpart in the Torah’s soul. Every law in the Talmud and Shulchan Aruch encapsulates within it a deeper significance, instructing the inner life of man in addition to his external behavior.
The same is true of the legal distinction between a “snake” and a “scorpion” as regards the interruption of prayer. Our sages tell us that a snake injects a person with a “burning” poison, while a scorpion’s poison is “cold.” Translated into the terms of “the service of the heart” that is the inner essence of prayer, there are two types of spiritual maladies that threaten the soul in its quest to come close to G-d. The first is a “burning poison”—the heat and passion of earthly desires. A second spiritual threat is the poison of “coldness”—the apathy which leaves a person indifferent to everything and anything, material and spiritual alike.
In Maimonides’ description of Abraham’s quest for truth and his recognition of the One G-d, we read that, initially, Abraham was “immersed amongst the foolish idol-worshippers of Ur Kasdim; his father, mother and the entire population—he amongst them—all worshipped idols.” Asks Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi: why is it important that we know that the first Jew once worshipped idols? But it is precisely because Abraham worshipped idols, answers Rabbi Schneur Zalman, that he came to recognize the divine truth. Because he cared, because he passionately and devotedly served what he had been misleadingly taught to regard as worthy of worship, his sincere desire matured into a desire for G-d. Had he been indifferent to the idols of his native land, he would never have searched for and discovered the true G-d.
Thus the Talmud says: “Even if a snake is coiled around his heel, he should not interrupt.” Even if you feel threatened by a poisonous heat, keep on praying. Place yourself in G-d’s hands and beseech Him to guide you to the truth. If your intentions are pure, your profane heat will be transformed into a holy fire.
On the other hand, if a person is threatened by the frigid poison of a scorpion, he must interrupt his prayers. When a person is faced with the icy sting of indifference—even if it is only his “heel” (i.e., a lowly and marginal part of the self) that is threatened—he must conduct a full re-assessment and re-orientation of his spiritual life. Nothing positive and holy can ever spring forth from spiritual coldness.
Based on an address by the Rebbe, Shabbat Eikev 5716 (July 28, 1956)
Tags: prayer, psycho-spiritual journey, idol worship, emotions
Posted in Weekly Parsha, Biblical, Soul & Mystical, Alter Rebbe, Abraham, Eikev, Torah Personalities, Modern, Devarim, Spiritual, Torah | 1 Comment »
March 25th, 2015
Can spiritual concepts be expressed in everyday language? Or must they be discussed only in somber tones and sacred whispers, if they are even discussed at all? For many of us, spiritual literature seems hopelessly out of touch with our everyday experience. We associate “sacred texts” with yellowed, crumbling prayer books written in archaic language, or faded scrolls with barely decipherable hieroglyphics. But does sacred literature necessarily need to be so remote and estranged from reality? Is there anything incongruous about discussing G-dliness and spirituality using down-to-earth language and examples drawn from real life?
When we discuss G-d in personally relevant terms, we invite Him into the core of our lives, rather than relegating Him to the periphery of our existence. Yet it can be argued that toning down the reverence too much can easily lead to flippancy and lack of respect for truly sublime matters. A certain distance must be maintained in order to preserve the sanctity of the subject matter. We cannot lose sight of our own puniness and ignorance in relation to truly lofty and Divine matters, and start creating G-d in our own image.
The fine line between making G-d accessible to human understanding, as opposed to humanizing Him altogether, has been discussed since Talmudic times. It once happened that five scholars were commissioned by King Ptolemy to translate the Torah into Greek. That day, says the Talmud, was “as ominous for Israel as the day on which the Golden Calf was made, since the Torah could not be accurately translated.” Yet we find in the Torah that before crossing the Jordan River to enter the land of Israel, Moshe explained the Torah in seventy languages. Furthermore, he charged the Jewish people that upon crossing the Jordan, they were to inscribe the entire Torah on stones, in seventy languages. If the Torah had already been rendered in seventy languages, why was the Greek translation considered to be so devastating?
What is the relationship between the Ptolemeic translation of the Torah and the sin of the Golden Calf? Note that the Talmud does not make the comparison to “the day the Golden Calf was served,” but rather “the day the Golden Calf was made.” Initially, the Jewish people were not seeking an object for idol-worship. They were only looking for a leader to take the place of Moshe, who they wrongly presumed had died on Mount Sinai. Just as G-d appointed Moses as his agent to redeem the Jews from Egypt, they hoped that the Golden Calf would also serve as some sort of intercessor between the Jewish People and G-d. They felt the need for a tangible representative to help them bridge the distance between their earthly existence and G-d.
In Judaism, every person is able and is expected to build a relationship with G-d without any go-betweens. Why, then, is there the need for any leadership whatsoever? G-d desires us to relate to Him on real life terms, to understand Him with our minds and love Him with all the love our human, fleshly hearts can generate. G-d therefore chooses a leader, a tzaddik, who, through his personal conduct and example, becomes a living manifestation of G-dliness to whom we can all relate and emulate.
The Jews wanted to carry this one step further. They argued that G-d’s revelation need not be limited to the human level, and can be expressed through the animal kingdom as well. On Mount Sinai, the Jews perceived G-d descending to the mountain on a chariot borne by angels with four faces, one of which was that of an ox. They attempted to capture this spiritual vision in a tangible form.
Their mistake lay in their inept “translation” of a G-dly vision into physical matter. Such a representation cannot be made without an explicit divine instruction. Physical matter becomes invested with G-dly energy only through a direct command of G-d. The consummate example of this is the construction of the Tabernacle, where divine energy flowed through the ark topped with the cherubim. Since its construction was divinely ordained, it became a conduit for G-dliness and was utterly nullified before G-d. But any attempt on our part to convert spirituality into physical form, guided only by our own perception, is doomed to failure. Since it represents not G-d’s will, but only our own limited conception of G-dliness, it actually results in a separation between us and G-d.
When the Torah is translated into a foreign language, there is a similar risk that our human interpretation will cloud over the divine meaning of the words. Hence the statement of the Sages that the Ptolomeic Greek translation of the Torah was “as ominous as the day the Golden Calf was made.” Indeed when the translation is divinely commissioned, as was the case on the bank of the Jordan River, there was no possibility of distortion.
What is the lesson to be derived from these two events? Should the story of the Golden Calf serve as a deterrent, to keep us from ever attempting to relate to G-d on our own terms? It is obvious that G-d does desire that we draw Him into our world, as evidenced by the fact that Moses himself translated the Torah into seventy languages. The Golden Calf serves only as a vivid example of what can go awry when we base our interpretations on our own understanding, without deferring to Torah authority.
In our generation, we have an unprecedented capacity to make Torah accessible in all languages, to individuals and populations that have never been reached before. We can choose to balk at this opportunity, citing our own unworthiness and the crassness of the world at large. Or we can use the impetus to communicate the values and ideals of the Torah in all languages, each on its own terms. G-d will be truly revealed in this world when all people, from every perspective, are able to acknowledge His presence and study His teachings.
Our efforts in this direction can serve to nullify the negative effects of the Golden Calf. Their original intention of drawing closer to G-d (although through improper means) can be redirected to its proper source by our intense efforts at making G-d manifest in this world under terms sanctioned by the Torah. One of the descriptions of the Messianic era is when G-d will “make the peoples pure of speech so that they will all call upon the name of G-d and serve Him with one purpose”. Then the days of mourning, beginning from the 17th of Tamuz and culminating in the 9th of Av, will be transformed into days of rejoicing and holidays, G-d willing, with the coming of our Righteous Moshiach.
Based on a talk from the Rebbe. By Chaya Shuchat.
Tags: absolute truth, idol worship, tragedy, redemption, Jewish law, Mt. Sinai
Posted in Weekly Parsha, Devarim, Religion, Devarim, Spiritual, Torah | No Comments »
March 25th, 2015
Lift up … the offering-pans of these mortal sinners, and beat them into sheets with which to plate the altar; for they have been offered to G-d, and have become sanctified.
Numbers 17:2-3
The sixteenth chapter of Numbers relates the story of Korach’s challenge to the authority of Moses and the priesthood of Aaron. Korach, joined by 250 of the spiritual elite of Israel, rebelled against the granting of the kehunah—the privilege of serving G-d in the Holy Temple—to Aaron and his descendants. They, too, desired the opportunity for such communion with G-d, and demanded of Moses that he admit them into the kehunah.
Their spiritual mutiny ended in tragedy. To prove their worthiness for the priesthood, these men made an offering of ketoret (incense) to G-d—the holiest and most potent of divine services, whose performance is strictly limited to kohanim at specially appointed times in the sacred intimacy of the Sanctuary. “A fire issued forth from G-d and consumed the two hundred and fifty offerers of the ketoret.”[1]
Yet G-d instructed that the copper pans in which they made their forbidden offering should be hammered into a covering for the altar. These pans have been sanctified, said G-d to Moses; their very metal has been hallowed by an act which, though sinful and severely punished, was motivated by a holy desire—a desire to come close to Me.
The copper plating of the altar holds an eternal lesson: if such is the divine regard for a piece of inanimate metal, certainly no human being is irredeemable. For no matter how deleterious his deeds, they hide a desire and striving, intrinsic to every creature of G-d, for the goodness and perfection of the divine.
Based on the Rebbe’s words to a group of high school students, circa 1955[2]. By Yanki Tauber.
______________________________________________________________
[2]. Recounted by Rabbi Zvi Meir Steinmetz, the teacher who brought these students to their meeting with the Rebbe.
Tags: good and evil, sacrifices and offerings, Desire, rebellion, Korach
Posted in Weekly Parsha, Bamidbar, Korach, Torah | No Comments »
March 25th, 2015
In the history of a people, as in that of an individual life, things don’t always go as planned.
The original plan was to go like this: On the 15th of Nissan in the year 2448 from creation (1313 BCE), the people of Israel are taken out of Egypt under the leadership of Moses. After seven weeks of preparation and self-refinement, they receive the Torah, their mandate from G-d as His “nation of priests and Holy people,”[1] at Mount Sinai. From Sinai it’s an eleven-day journey to the Land of Canaan[2] – the land promised to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob as Israel’s eternal homeland-where Moses builds the Holy Temple to serve as the seat of the divine presence in the physical world, and the people of Israel implement the blueprint for life contained in the Torah, establishing the model society which serves as the keystone of a harmonious world community embodying the goodness and perfection of their Creator.
In actuality, the journey from Sinai to the Holy Land took not eleven days but forty years. The generation of the Exodus became “the generation of the desert” – only two of the 600,000 adult males who left Egypt lived to enter the Land of Canaan. The grand plan over which Moses was to preside was delayed, and still awaits completion. Moses’ disciple, Joshua, began the conquest of the Holy Land, but the task was only completed five centuries later by King David. David’s son, Solomon, built the Holy Temple in Jerusalem, but this was not the eternal edifice which Moses would have constructed; it was destroyed by the Babylonians in 3338 (423 BCE), rebuilt by Ezra in 3408 (353 BCE), and destroyed once more, by the Romans, in 3829 (69 CE). The people of Israel failed to fully live up to their role as a “light unto the nations”[3] and were exiled from their land. The perfect and harmonious world which we were to have achieved by entering the Land of Canaan under Moses’ leadership still awaits attainment by Moshiach.
What went wrong? The children of Israel were encamped at Kadesh, on the border of Canaan, in preparation to enter the land, when they approached Moses with the request:
“Let us send men before us, so that they shall search out the land for us and bring us back word as to which road we should take and into which cities we shall come.”[4]
Moses conveyed the people’s request to G-d, and G-d replied: “Act according to your own understanding.”[5] I’ve been telling you what to do long enough, G-d was saying. Now that you’re about to enter and settle the land, it’s time you did things your way, in accordance with your own understanding of how to best carry out My plan. If the people believe that sending spies is the way to go about conquering the land, then go ahead and send them.[6]
Moses sent the twelve spies – one representative from each of the twelve tribes of Israel – to scout the land and report on its terrain and its inhabitants. Forty days later, on the eighth day of Av of the year 2449, the spies returned, bearing samples of the land’s huge and luscious fruit and the following assessment:
“We came to the land that you have sent us, and indeed, it flows with milk and honey; this is its fruit. However, the people who dwell in the land are strong, and the cities are fortified and very great; we also saw giants there. The Amalekites dwell in the Negev, the Hittites, the Jebusites and the Emorites in the hills, and the Canaanites at the sea and on the banks of the Jordan…. We cannot go up against these people, for they are mightier than we….[7]
Their report caused the nation to lose faith in their ability to conquer the Holy Land, despite G-d’s promises. Indeed, the commentaries note that the Hebrew word mimenu, “than we,” also translates as “than he”; the spies were, in effect, saying that “they are mightier than He” – that the conquest of the Holy Land is beyond the capacity of the Almighty Himself![8] All night the nation wept and bemoaned their fate, crying to Moses: “Why is G-d bringing us to this land to fall by the sword, and for our wives and children to fall into captivity?”[9]
Thus it came to pass that on the Ninth of Av – a day which was to bode many tragedies for the people of Israel[10] – G-d informed Moses that the generation that received the Torah at Sinai was not fit to enter the Land of Canaan. He decreed that they shall live out their lives as wanderers in the desert until a new generation can take up the challenge of conquering the land of Canaan and developing it as a “Holy Land” – as the focus of G-d’s presence in the material world.
What Happened?
The spies dispatched by Moses were no ordinary individuals: “They were all men of distinction, leaders of the children of Israel.”[11] Furthermore, in all of history, it would be difficult to find a generation whose lives were more saturated with miracles than theirs. Egypt, the most powerful nation on earth at the time, was forced to free them from slavery when “the mighty hand” of G-d inflicted ten supernatural plagues. When Pharaoh’s armies pursued them, the sea split to let them pass and then drowned their pursuers. In the desert, miracles were the stuff of their daily lives: manna from heaven was their daily bread, “Miriam’s well” (a miraculous stone which traveled along with the Israelite camp) provided them with water, and “clouds of glory” sheltered them from the desert heat and cold, kept them clothed and shod, destroyed the snakes and scorpions in their path, and flattened the terrain before them to ease their way.
For these people to doubt G-d’s ability to conquer the “mighty inhabitants” of Canaan seems nothing less than ludicrous. Yet these were the people whose leaders said, “We cannot go up against these people, for they are mightier than we” and even He. What happened? Where did they go wrong?
Desert Idyll
The daily miracles experienced by the generation of the Exodus did more than provide them with sustenance and protection – they shielded them from any and all involvement with the material world. For the first generation of our existence as a people, we lived a wholly spiritual life, free of all material concerns; the very food which nourished us was “bread from heaven.”[12] Indeed, our sages have said that, “The Torah could have been given only to the eaters of the manna.”[13] To properly receive and assimilate the divine wisdom, one must be utterly free of the responsibilities and frustrations of physical life-something that is possible only in the kind of environment which our ancestors enjoyed during their sojourn in the Sinai Desert.
This is why the spies and their generation were loath to enter the land. Becoming a people with a land would entail plowing, sowing and harvesting; it would mean engaging in commerce and levying taxes; it would require a bureaucracy to run the land and an army to defend it. Their underlying problem with the land was, as the spies expressed it, that “it is a land that consumes its inhabitants”[14] – it consumes one’s time and energy with its corporeal demands and infringes on one’s capacity to study the divine wisdom of Torah and meditate upon its truths. They were unwilling to relinquish their spiritual utopia for the entanglements of an earth-bound life.
This also explains the spies’ argument that “We cannot go up against these people, for they are mightier than we,” notwithstanding the tremendous miracles which G-d had performed and was performing for them. We cannot have it both ways, argued the spies. Either we are to be a spiritual people engaged exclusively in spiritual pursuits and sustained by supernatural means; or else we are to enter the natural world of the farmer, merchant and soldier and become subject to its laws. And under these laws-which decree that the numerous, mighty and well – fortified will defeat the few and the weak – there is no way we can defeat the inhabitants of Canaan.
They even went so far as to extend this line of reasoning to the Almighty Himself. If G-d wishes for us to live a spiritual life, then, certainly, He can sustain us with miracles. But if His desire is that we abandon our supra-natural existence to enter the land and assume a natural life, then He Himself has decreed that natural law will govern our fate. In that case, He cannot empower us to miraculously conquer the land, since were He to do so, this would defeat the entire purpose of entering the “land.” So “they are mightier than He” – even G-d cannot help us, if He Himself has chosen to transform us into a material people.
The Generation Gap
What the spies and their generation failed to understand is that the entire point of entering the Holy Land is to sanctify the material aspects of life. This is the essence of the divine objective of creation and the mission entrusted to us at Sinai: to build “a dwelling for G-d in the lowly realms”[15]-to imbue our plowing, sowing and commerce with a holy and G-dly purpose. In charging us with this mission, the Creator empowered us to indeed “have it both ways”: to create a land that is holy, a nature that is miraculous, a reality that is not bound by its own defining parameters for it serves a purpose greater than itself.
Achieving this aim required a two-phased program: an initial state of unmitigated holiness and spirituality, followed by “entrance into the land” and assumption of its material labors. For to sanctify the land, one requires the vision and guidance of the divine truth of truths – which can be attained only by a nation of “manna eaters.” So first there had to be that period of utter isolation from the material world. However, this phase of our national existence was not an end in itself, but the way in which to acquire the tools and resources to miraculize the natural and elevate the everyday.
If the “generation of the desert” would have themselves been capable of making the transition into a people of the land, the transformation of the material world into a home for G-d would have been fully and perfectly achieved in that very generation. If they would have believed in their divinely granted capacity to “have it both ways,” their sanctification of the land would have combined their ultimate apprehension of the divine truth with a full involvement with the natural reality.
But one of the most basic rules of creation is that if the achievements of man are to be meaningful and significant, they must be his own – the product of an uncompelled choice to exercise his divinely granted potentials. And free choice means license to fail as well as to succeed; it means the capacity for blunder as well as for achievement. When G-d told Moses to proceed with the conquest of the land “according to your own understanding,” He opened the possibility for greater and more meaningful achievement, but also for error on the part of His “partners in creation,”[16] and delays and regressions in the fulfillment of His master plan.
The generation of the desert failed to actualize the unique opportunity which presented itself at that particular juncture of our history: for there to be a single generation which straddled both worlds, a single generation which first inhabited a world of utter spirituality and then proceeded to apply it to a life on the land. Instead, they fell prey to the tendency of man to “compartmentalize” his life, to label his experiences and attainments as “material,” “spiritual,” “sacred,” “mundane,” “natural” and “supernatural,” thereby delegating and confining them to their respective domains. So it was left to their children to embark on the longer, more difficult journey, a journey only now reaching its culmination: to bridge the formidable “generation gap” which separates us from our manna-eating ancestors and apply the pristine truth they received in the desert to our own earth-bound lives.[17]
On a Personal Note
In our own lives, we each have a “generation of the desert” and a “generation which enters the land.” Our childhood and youth are a spiritual and miraculous time: our needs are provided to us “from above” without effort or worry on our part; the business of running the world is blessedly none of our concern. Such a hermitic existence, while contrary to the ultimate purpose of our lives, is the optimal environment for the acquisition of the beliefs, values and knowledge which will guide and inspire our development of the world when we subsequently “enter the land” in our adult years.
The same is true of each particular day of life: we begin our day with a sacrosanct hour of prayer and Torah-study before crossing over into the workday and embarking on the development and sanctification of the material world. The secular environments we navigate during these hours are incredibly diverse. One individual might spend the afternoon structuring overseas manufacturing contracts, another could oversee the backend server architecture for an online crypto casino, and a third might manage a bustling pediatric clinic. Regardless of the specific industry, the underlying spiritual objective remains identical: to conduct our affairs with absolute integrity and transform those mundane spaces into a dwelling place for the divine.
Here, too, exists the danger of succumbing to a “generation gap” between one’s “Sinai Desert” and “Land of Israel,” of adopting the “either/or” mentality of the spies. Therein lies the eternal lesson of the Torah’s account of the incident of the spies: do not allow the wisdom, sensitivity and inspiration of your youth to remain an isolated period in your life. Do not allow your moments of attachment to G-d each morning to remain a “miracle” with no bearing on the natural course of your day. Cross into the land, but do not leave your spiritual “childhood” behind. Remember that the purpose of it all is to make “holy” a quality of “land.”
Based on an address by the Rebbe, Shabbat Shelach 5722 (June 30 1962)[18].
Adapted from the teachings of the Rebbe by Yanki Tauber
[2] Deuteronomy 1:2; in actuality, the Israelites made this journey in just three days and were on the brink of entering the land when the episode of the spies intervened (Rashi on verse).
[5] Numbers 13:2, as per Rashi on verse.
[6] See Free Agent , Week In Review vol. IX, no. 38.
[8] Midrash Rabbah, cited by Rashi on verse.
[10] Including the destruction of both the First and Second Temples (see Talmud, Taanit 29a).
[13] Midrash Mechilta, Beshalach 17.
[15] Midrash Tanchuma, Nasso 16.
[16] Talmud, Shabbat 10a; et al.
[17] Ultimately, however, it is G-d’s desire that His master plan should go awry, creating the opportunity for the painful yet immensely profitable path of teshuvah, whose rewards cannot be anticipated, or even allowed for, by any pre-ordained plan-see G-d’s Business, WIR, vol. X, no. 4.
[18] Likkutei Sichot, vol. IV, pp. 1041-1047.
Tags: youth, generation gap, Divine dwelling, tragedy, The 12 Spies, faith, Israel
Posted in Weekly Parsha, Biblical, Personal Life, Torah Personalities, Bamidbar, Shelach, Torah, Moses | No Comments »
March 25th, 2015
And G-d spoke to Moses, saying: … When you raise up the lamps, the seven lamps should give light toward the face of the menorah… And this is the work of the menorah: it was of beaten gold, from its base to its flower it was beaten work…
Numbers 8:1-4
On three different occasions, G-d instructed Moses on the making and the kindling of the menorah (candelabrum) in the Holy Temple. In the 25th chapter of Exodus, a detailed description of the menorah is given as part of G-d’s instructions on the construction of the Sanctuary. In Leviticus 24, G-d commands Moses regarding its daily lighting.[1] Finally, we have the above-quoted verses from Numbers 8, which open the Torah section of Beha’alotecha.
The Beha’alotecha verses specify two laws of the menorah:
a) That all of its lamps should be turned toward its center stem (“the face of the menorah”),
b) That the Holy Temple menorah should not be made piecemeal and its parts welded together; rather, the entire candelabrum—its base, its center stem, its six arms and its decorative forms (22 goblets, eleven globes and nine flowers), standing seventeen tefachim high (about 60 inches) and weighing a full kikar (approximately 150 pounds)—should be hammered out of a single block of gold.
Both these laws were already stated in the earlier passages detailing the menorah. Their repetition here emphasizes their centrality to the function and significance of menorah.
Origin and Objective
“The soul of man is a lamp of G-d.”[2] Like the lamp, the function of the soul is to illuminate its surroundings. The soul, “literally a part of G-d Above,”[3] is placed within a material body and world so that it should radiate its light to the darkest reaches of the created reality.
The candelabrum in the Holy Temple had seven lamps, corresponding to the seven primary traits of the human character. Some souls excel in the trait of chessed (love, benevolence), others in the attribute of gevurah (self-discipline, fear of G-d); still others exemplify tiferet (harmony, compassion), netzach (ambition), hod (humility, devotion), yesod (communicativity, connectedness) or malchut (regality, receptiveness). Together we form a seven-branched menorah, radiating seven qualities of light which fill the Temple of G-d and spill out to the world beyond its walls.[4]
This is the deeper significance of the two laws reiterated in the Beha’alotecha verses. The second law emphasizes the singular origin of the diverse community of man. The entire menorah must be hammered out of a single piece of gold, for all seven types of soul derive from a single source. All are equally “literally a part of G-d Above,” in origin and in essence one.
The first law expresses the common objective of the menorah’s lights. All lamps are turned toward “the face of the menorah.” Even after they have branched off into seven distinct lamps, even after they are burning with seven different lights, all are directed toward the same place. All are striving toward the same goal, notwithstanding the differences in the nature and orientation of their quest.
Two Visions of Man
Two great biblical commentators, Rashi (Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki, 1040-1105) and Nachmanides (Rabbi Moshe ben Nachman, 1194-1270), differ in their characterization of the Beha’alotecha verses.
Rashi refers to these verses as Parashat HaMenorah, i.e., “The Menorah Section.” Nachmanides, on the other hand, sees their primary purpose as instructions on how to light the lamps. In other words, according to Rashi, the raison d’etre of these verses is to reiterate the second law—that the menorah be “hammered work”—a law pertaining to the construction and form of the menorah itself. According to Nachmanides, their main purpose is to relate the first law, which relates to the manner in which the menorah’s lamps should be lit.
The menorah describes the community of souls as originating as a singular entity, which then branches off into seven lamps that are different and distinct yet are all pointed toward a common goal. This general picture can be viewed from two perspectives. One can place the emphasis on the common origin, and see the common focus of the seven lamps as an expression of their intrinsic singularity. Or, one can emphasize the fact that this single menorah has produced seven lamps which, even as they strive toward their common goal, do so each in its own way, each with its own unique and distinct personality.
This is the underlying significance of the difference between Rashi and Nachmanides. Rashi sees life as an exercise in oneness. The diversity of human nature is but a superficial illusion; you need but scratch its surface to find that we’re all basically doing the same thing. This is the message of the menorah: I have a base and I have flowers; I have seven branches; but I am of a single piece.
Nachmanides, on the other hand, sees intrinsic worth and significance in the diversity of human nature. Our differences are not just means to the common end, but central to life’s purpose. Yes, we all derive from one place; yes, we are all striving toward the same goal; but the different ways in which we travel this course are what make the menorah of life, and are themselves of enduring luminary value.
Tags: Jewish law, sacrifices and offerings, Beis Hamikdash, Mishkan, menorah
Posted in The Ramban, Weekly Parsha, Soul & Mystical, Behalotcha, Middle Ages, Religion, Torah Personalities, Bamidbar, Spiritual, Torah | No Comments »
March 25th, 2015
The following is a transcript of the Rebbe’s remarks given in a private meeting on Av 5, 5727 (August 12, 1967), shortly after the Six-Day War, as recalled by Rabbi Chaim Gutnick of Melbourne, Australia, and published (in Hebrew) in Kfar Chabad Magazine, issue no. 806:
…Three times in our generation, G-d has granted us an opportunity for the beginning of the Redemption. But these opportunities were missed, and it is the Jewish leadership which is to blame.
The first opportunity was in 1948. You know that I have a particular enthusiasm for Rashi’s commentary on the Torah. Well, Rashi says regarding the waters of the Flood that, at first, G-d brought down “rains of blessing”[6] upon them and waited to see if they would repent; only after they failed to do so did this turn into the very opposite of “rains of blessing,” G-d forbid.[7]
In 1948, G-d sent “rains of blessing.” This was a time when even the Russians supported the Jewish people against the British, who had attempted to annihilate the nation of Israel. This was a time of opportunity. But the Jewish leaders stood by and debated whether or not to make mention of G-d’s name in the “Declaration of Establishment.”[8] Thus the Redemption was put off by fifty years.
The second opportunity was the Sinai Champaign [of 1956]. If the Jewish people would have believed that their salvation would come from G-d rather than from French MIGs and British warplanes, all would have been different.
But never has there been an opportunity such as this one. This was a war won by Torah and mitzvot. There can be no doubt of this. A Jew in Moscow recited Psalms, and a Jew in Buffalo, New York, put on tefillin, and this helped the Jews defeat their enemies in the Land of Israel.
If the Jewish leaders would have utilized the opportunity to rouse the people to the observance of Torah and mitzvot, our situation today would be entirely different. Think about it: a young man in Israel was summoned, handed an Uzi, and told: “Leave your wife and children at home and go to El-Arish to fight.” In every war there are draft-dodgers; here, no Jew, not even one for whom the word “Jew” is nothing more than an appellation, refused to fight. It was a time when the entire people of Israel were in a state of “We shall do and we shall hear.”[9] When this young man fought at El-Arish, his Torah and mitzvot fought for him. The Shechinah (Divine Presence) came down into the trenches to assist the soldier fighting on the borders of the Land of Israel.
If the Jewish leaders would have told that soldier to utilize the reserves of faith and courage that were revealed in him during the war toward a commitment to Torah and mitzvot, with the same “We shall do and we shall hear,” he, and the entire Jewish nation, would have responded, and everything would have been different. But again the leaders were silent, and the great opportunity was lost. They were too timid to tell the Jew the truth: that this is the time for a return to Torah.
The very first chapter of the first section of the Shulchan Aruch (Code of Jewish Law) begins not with Maimonides’ “Thirteen Principles of Faith,” but with the Rama’s ruling that “One should not be intimidated by mockers.” Why? Because when one does not fulfill this rule, one is prevented from fulfilling the entire Shulchan Aruch. Perhaps I speak too sharply, but the Jewish leadership is bankrupt. They avoid me because they know that I will demand of them to speak the truth. Their timidness to speak the truth, contrary to the rule, “One should not be intimidated by mockers,” is holding back the Redemption.
Jews must be told to keep Torah and mitzvot. I initiated the tefillin campaign—this is only the beginning. My hope is that through the mitzvah of tefillin, the Jewish people will be brought closer to other mitzvot—to keep kosher and Shabbat, and ultimately the entire Torah. My aim is that millions of additional hands should become tefillin-wearing hands.
The Jewish people will respond when spoken to about Torah and mitzvot. Not only teenagers—also forty-year-olds, people advanced and established in their lives, are ready to hear the truth, if only their leaders will speak it to them.
We still have not lost the opportunity. It’s still not too late. Now it is August.[10] If we will do our job, if the sheluchim[11] will do their job and tell the world the truth, we can bring the Redemption..
______________________________________
[7]. Rashi on Genesis 7:12.
[8]. The Israeli “declaration of independence,” adopted on May 14, 1948. Most of the 37 signatories opposed any mention of G-d in the document. In the end, they compromised by including an oblique reference to “the rock of Israel” in its last paragraph.
[10]. I.e., only two months after the war.
[11]. “Emissaries”—the men and women dispatched by the Rebbe to Jewish communities in every part of the globe to encourage the observance of Torah.
Tags: Israel, leadership, mitzvot, war, Jewish history, redemption, Jewish law
Posted in Weekly Parsha, Israel, Naso, Beliefs & Concepts, Bamidbar, Social, Moshiach & Redemption, Torah, Current Events | No Comments »
March 25th, 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.”
Tags: Maggid of Mezerich, Alter Rebbe, Chassidic stories
Posted in Weekly Parsha, Baal Shem Tov, Bamidbar, Alter Rebbe, Torah Personalities, Bamidbar, Modern, Torah | No Comments »
March 25th, 2015
By the Grace of G-d
5736
Mrs. [name redacted],
University Heights, Ohio
Blessing and Greeting:
I duly received your letter and as requested, will remember you in prayer for the fulfillment of your heart’s desires for the good.
On the basis of your writing, it is surely unnecessary to emphasize to you at length the importance of Yiddishkeit as a continuous daily experience, not as some misconceived persons may think it is sufficient to observe it on exceptional occasions or special days. For, as it is written, the Torah and mitzvos are “our life and length of our days.” Obviously, life must be continuous and cannot be reserved for exceptional occasions or special days. So it is with the life-giving Torah and the mitzvos which the Torah instructs us to observe every day. No doubt you have had occasion to discuss this topic with our mutual friend in your community and will also do so in the future. Hence, there is no need for any more on this, although he subject matter certainly warrants a great deal more to be said.
I would like to dwell, however, on a point mentioned at the conclusion of your letter, namely in reference to kashrut. It has always been known and it has been particularly emphasized lately, that the diet is very important for the general state of health, as well as for the emotional life, etc., and many books and articles have been and are being written on the subject. It is now universally believed and accepted that in the area of eating and drinking a human being cannot just follow his desires and temptations, but must learn to regulate his habits. And this is what the experts and dieticians try to do, namely to prescribe the right diet of foods and beverages for persons in accordance with their type of activity, environment, etc.
As usual, wherever there is human research, there is always something new from time to time and very often the latest findings invalidate previous ones, though it is assumed that in due course the latest may similarly be invalidated. However, laymen can only follow the advice of the experts, as long as they are trustworthy. And he accepts the restrictions they impose, and accepts them willingly and readily, and even pays for their advice, and so on. Needless to say, this is as it should be, since not everyone has the time and capacity to do the research to find out what is good for him physically and spiritually.
In light of the above, how grateful a Jew must be to G-d, the Creator of the world and the Essence of Perfection, Who is certainly trustworthy, for His directives in this field, by giving us our Dietary Laws, the laws of kashrut, which ensure our good health physically, mentally and spiritually. Moreover, these are laws and regulations which we can carry out with relative ease. It follows therefore, that knowing this, a Jew should not rest but try his very utmost to make other Jews in his environment aware of this importance and vital aspect of the daily life and encourage them to order their life accordingly. One of the most effective ways of influence is to show a living example. But inasmuch as other people do not always emulate the example one hundred percent, thinking that for them it would suffice to follow it up to half way or so, the example must be on a much higher level in order to make allowances for human nature.
May G-d grant that just a you wrote your letter, so you should have good news to report in regard to its contents.
With blessing,
Tags: diet, kosher, food, health
Posted in Personal Life, Torah Personalities, Modern, Torah, Rebbe, Food & Eating | No Comments »
March 25th, 2015
By the Grace of G-d
5739
Prof. [name redacted],
Brooklyn, N.Y.
This is to acknowledge receipt of your letter in which you write about the problem of smoking and ask why no issur has been issued against it, etc.
I note from your letter that you are aware of halachic problems in issuing an issur. Rabbinic authorities have traditionally been reluctant to proclaim issurim, eve in non-controversial situations, when it involved a Gzeirah Sh’ain Rov Hatzibur Yecholim Laamod Bah in which case an issur would force many into a position of being maizidim instead of shogagim.
Certainly there would be no case for issuing an issur in a matter on which authorities differ.
As you know, there are those, albeit in the minority, who claim that the health hazard of cigarette smoking has not been proven conclusively. This is perhaps one of the reasons why the manufacture and sale of cigarettes has not been outlawed by the Health Authorities.
In recent years there has been a further consideration, namely, that the prohibition of cigarette smoking and placing it on par with smoking “pot” would increase the incidence of drug abuse and drug addiction, since it is believed that cigarette smoking, especially among young people, provides a certain “escape” and to some degree a substitute for drug abuse so pervasive among their peers.
Needless to say, these and other considerations do not justify the use of something that has already been prohibited by the imperative of Venishmartem M’od Lenafshosaichem. But I have mentioned the above by way of answering your letter as to some of the reasons why no issur has been proclaimed against cigarette smoking. In addition to being counterproductive, there is also the possibility of a harmless cigarette being introduced before long.
Since everything is by Hashgocho Protis and you have written to me on the subject, perhaps there is a more practical reason for our exchange of correspondence which I ought to bring to your attention – after some prefatory remarks.
Every Jew is obligated by the Great Principle of our Torah, v’ohavto lre’acho komocho, to help his brethren not only materially and health wise, but also, indeed even more so, spiritually.
A person who is in a prominent position, in whatever field, usually has a special influence also in the areas not related to his field. In keeping with the imperative, “Know Him in all your ways,” such a person has the additional obligation and privilege to use his influence to strengthen and disseminate Yiddishkeit, Torah and mitzvos.
In light of the above, and seeing your concern for the physical health of fellow Jews, I wish to express my confident hope that you are using your influence in the fullest measure to promote the spiritual health of your Jewish students and of the Jewish community at large. And in this case, expert opinion is certainly undivided that theTorah and mitzvos are “our life and the length of our days.”
Also in regard to non-Jewish students there is the obligation of promoting the so-called Seven Noachide Laws with all their ramifications – the Divinely ordained basic laws of morality, justice, etc. for all mankind (“Noach’s descendents”), without which no decent human society could long endure.
And there is the assurance that “words coming from the heart enter the heart and are eventually effective,” especially when coupled with a living example.
As we are now in the month of Elul, it gives me pleasure to extend to you and yours prayerful wishes for a Kesivo Vachisimo Tovo Umesukah.
With blessing,
[M. Schneerson]
Tags: prohibitions, health, smoking, cigarettes
Posted in Torah Personalities, Modern, Social, Torah, Rebbe, Medicine | No Comments »
