We ask not what will be? But what can we do about it? – The Rebbe

This week we read about how the Jewish people leave Egypt on their long awaited journey to Israel. Over 3,330 years later and the Promised Land still eludes us.

Since October 7th (and unfortunately, many times prior to that day) People around the world are asking: G-d in heaven: what will be?

Rabbi Yisrael Lau, former chief Rabbi of Israel, relates a story that happened with him the first time he came to the USA in 1974. He was then a rabbi in a small synagogue outside of Tel Aviv, and came to Brooklyn to visit the Rebbe. In middle of their conversation, the Rebbe asked him what Jews are saying these days in Israel (it was right after the 1973 Yom Kippur war). Rabbi Lau replied that Jews are asking each other: “Vos vet zein?” “What will be?”

The Rebbe grasped Rabbi Lau’s arm, and vehemently said: “Yiden fregen nit vos vet zein; zei fregen: vos geit men ton!” Jews don’t ask what will be; they ask: What are we going to do!

“What will be” is the question of a victim. “What are we going to do” is a proactive question. When you are at war, the last thing you want to hear is your commander-in-chief questioning, “What are we going to do?” You want to hear that we have a plan, a direction, a strategy – and we are forging ahead!

Israel has always been in the news. From the beginning of time people, nations and religions have been fighting for control of the Holy Land. Disproportionate to its size the Promised Land carries unparalleled influence throughout history. What is the mysterious power of this small piece of the map that has everyone consumed with it?

Like everything in life, the mystique of Israel can only be understood by getting to its soul-root.

When you want to understand the true nature of a phenomenon you must always travel beneath the surface into the underlying causes. To understand existence we must study its complete structure in full context. Doctors and scientists explore the physiological causes for any given experience. Not just the symptoms, but also the biological, anatomical, chemical and other variables that shape life. Physics digs further into the molecular and cellular structures, until we reach the sub-atomic level. As of today, we have yet to discover deeper dimensions.

Mysticism – which is a better name than metaphysics – goes further by exploring the spiritual structure that lies within it all: The soul inside the “body” of the phenomenon.

When we see how Israel so illogically dominates the news, and not just today but for millennia on end, there is no way to understand this mystery without getting into the deepest roots of existence itself – the soul of life. The same can be said about the Bible, the “best selling” book in history, and one that continues to top all charts. What lies behind its power?

The answer, my friend, is blowing in the… annals of Jewish mysticism.

The world in which we live is actually made up of two parts: One part matter, one part spirit. Everything in life consists of a body and a soul. The Kabbalists call it container and light, but you can also define it as form and function, style and substance, outside and inside, package and product.

The outer layer of the material universe is like a shell, a peel – a thick skin that conceals the enormous spiritual energy within. Just as it is on an individual level: Your physical body is a container that carries within itself your personality, your soul and all its faculties. The naked eye that only views the body does not see what lies inside; it may have no inkling of what lurks within your psyche. Indeed, it may even have a distorted view of who you truly are. The macrocosm is just like the microcosm: The “body” of the universe conceals the potent forces that lie within.

But one big question remains: Even though spirit and matter are in actuality two sides of one coin, they are perceived by us as two separate entities. Indeed, one could even deny the existence of the spirit within (as many claim they do). In Kabbalistic terminology this denial or dichotomy is possible, nay, necessary as a result of the great primordial Tzimtzum, in which G-d concealed the conscious Divine energy, so that existence as we know it could emerge and experience itself as a distinct entity, not overwhelmed by the Divine unity.

So here’s the big question: Is this concealment airtight? Is it ever possible to reach a place where these two worlds meet? Or are we doomed to live either in the world of matter or spirit?

This, mind you, is not merely an academic question. It determines the very essence of life’s possibilities for us. It touches on the wall that divides us in the material world from our loved ones who have passed on to the world of spirit. It defines the greatest search of all mankind – for the ultimate unified field theory that unites all of existence. And above all, it tells us whether our search for the ultimate utopia is possible.

Can we reach beyond the doors of perception and truly live a life of integration – a life of peace between body and soul, between matter and spirit? Is there an intersection that connects the two worlds?

The answer is Israel.

The Holy Land is the portal between heaven and earth. The split between the two worlds is deep indeed. Yet, G-d left one door open between them, and the opening to that door is in the Promised Land. This is what makes this land holy. Holiness means something that simply has less egocentric layers that block out the inner Divine energy. G-d left this door open so that the holiness of Israel will ultimately transform the rest of the world.

Israel – Eretz Yisroel as its accurately called in the Torah – is the spiritual ‘center’ of the universe. The sages tell us that Israel has ten levels of holiness, one greater than the next, with the highest point being Jerusalem, and within it the Temple Mount. Jacob called it “the gate to heaven” (Genesis 28:17).

Israel is the place that bridges heaven and earth. The word “Israel” is the name given by Esau’s angel to Jacob after their all-night wrestle. “Hereafter you will be named Yisroel, for you have battled with the Divine and with man and you have prevailed” (Genesis 32:29). There is a battle between the Divine and man, between spirit and matter, and Jacob prevailed, allowing for the fusion of the two.

One of the most eloquent ideas in Kabbala is the interwoven unity of time, space and the human being: Everything that exists in one entity also exists in the other two. Everything in time and space is also contained in microcosm within each of us. And vice versa: Everything within the human system manifests somewhere in time and space.

Jacob’s victory as reflected in his name Israel manifests itself in space in the land called Israel. The Holy Land of Israel is the physical manifestation of the fusion between the spiritual and the material – between the human and the Divine.

The centrality of Israel in Torah is actually a psycho/spiritual centrality. The Holy Land represents a state of sanctity within each of our souls, and its ability to integrate with our physical lives. It’s role as Promised Land – the land promised to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the land that consumes the journey of the Jewish people throughout the wilderness – is the destination to which we all aspire.

And that’s why everyone gravitates to this land. Unconsciously, ever nation, religion and individual senses that the Holy land is the spiritual vortex of existence, the place where the doors open up to reach the Divine.

The collective unconscious of the universe is obsessed with Israel. Not with China, land of 1+ billion, not with India, not with the USA, a country 10 times younger than many walls in Jerusalem. The only place on Earth which continues to dominate headlines, today just as it did 3500 years ago, is this small country (1/19^th the size of the state of California) called Israel!

But the question begs: If Israel is the bridge between heaven and earth why is there no peace in the Holy Land? Why don’t we experience this unity? True, one can sense a mystical presence in Jerusalem, Tzfat and other cities, but why has it not permeated the people that live there, and for that matter, why hasn’t it spread to the rest of the world?

The entire point of Israel’s centrality is to serve as a spiritual hub which will bring peace to the entire world. It is a place that is meant to serve as a model of what the world would look like when heaven meets earth. So where are the results?

Ahh, this brings us to the crux of it all. The thing called “galut.” Galut means exile. A better translation is displacement – a spiritual dissonance, in which we become misaligned from our source and our purpose.

Health is a sound soul inside a sound body – body and soul aligned in one seamless whole, and the body serves as a container that allows the soul to freely flow through it. What happens when there is an impediment, G-d forbid, when the soul’s energy cannot freely flow through the body? This is the definition of illness.

So it is with spiritual and psychological health.

A healthy organism, a healthy person, nation or religion is one in which the “body” is one with the “soul.” However, when “what you do” is not one with “who you are,” when there is a dichotomy between your physical activity and your soul’s aspirations, you are in “galut” – spiritually and psychologically displaced.

This galut is perhaps most acutely felt in the Holy Land. In the spiritual vortex of the universe any dissonance is most keenly experienced. A speck of dust on your arm is hardly noticed. The same dust on your eyeball is quite irritating. Israel is called the Divine “eye.” Every disparity in the world is amplified in the eyeball, in the soul.

In our prayers we declare: “Because of our iniquities we were exiled from our land.” Everyone says this prayer, including the Jews living in Israel. But they are living in the land, how can they say, “we were exiled from the land”? Because exile is much more than physical displacement; it is spiritual displacement – and that is the state of affairs in the universe for the last 19 centuries, actually, from the beginning of time. Until the day when we actually integrate matter and spirit, we are living in an unhealthy state of displacement and disconnection. The fact that we may feel healthy only accentuates the disconnection.

But the good news is this: The cause for this displacement is our iniquities. Why? What is a sin? Sin actually means displacement. When we, say, hurt another person, we are actually hurting ourselves. Every sin is a form of wandering away from fulfilling our true purpose.

However, the word sin has become loaded today, as have many religious references. No one has a problem with being told that spilling water into your hard drive will destroy your computer. Or that eating poison will harm you. We don’t call this a “sin,” we call it “destructive behavior” and as a result of “cause and effect,” destructive behavior will result in damage to the system. [Just as we don’t call them “sports fanatics” and “religious fans,” even though the word “fan” is short for “fanatic”].

Once you get beyond the stereotypes and distorted myths surrounding sin (many of which have been fed to us by a, well, displaced religious establishment), you discover that the true meaning of sin is exactly that: displacement, a behavior that is inconsistent with what makes the “machine” of life work best. As a result, according to the rules of “cause and effect,” we were displaced (exiled) from our land. Not as an incidental punishment, but as an effect of our behavior. When you wander away from your calling, you in effect have wandered away from “Israel” – your soul and the collective soul and conscience of the universe.

Yes, as painful as it is, you can live in Israel, but Israel may not live in you. Just as you can eat kosher and not be kosher.

Two important qualifications, before you criticize what I just wrote. One, the Holy Land retains its inherent holiness despite our displaced exile. Two, it is a great mitzvah to live in Israel, and one of the great miracles of our time is the renaissance of Jewish life in Israel today. And perhaps the noblest role of all is the one played by Tzahal, Israeli soldiers sacrificing their lives to protect their brothers and sisters.

However, the challenge still remains for all of us, both those living inside and outside of Israel: Is Israel – the true spiritual nature of Eretz Yisroel – living inside of us?

As we are left reeling by more appalling news coming from Israel, as more innocent lives are broken, as we read how the Jewish people leave Egypt and begin their 40 year journey to the Promised Land – what better thought to ponder on than our own relationship with the spiritual center of the universe.

Our hearts cry out, our feelings and thoughts are with all the victims and their families, with the brave soldiers on the front lines, we do whatever we physically can to support Israel and all those in need. But there is something more, much more that we can do.

As much support as we offer, many of us are left absolutely paralyzed with the question: “What will be?” It seems like there is nothing we can do to change the situation.

In truth there is something very powerful that we can do. In addition to our immediate support on every possible level, we must never forget the root of all our problems in Israel: Our misalignment and displacement from our spiritual hub.

Our call today is to realign our lives with the spiritual Israel within and without. As the Tzemach Tzedek told one of his Chassidim:

“Make here (the place in which you live) Eretz Yisroel.” Wherever you are – inside or outside of Israel – you must battle the forces that separate man from the Divine, you must take your life and transform it into “Eretz Yisroel,” a spiritual force that prevails over all. And prevail we will.

The angrier you get about events in Israel, the more you should channel that intensity into positive action to create a spiritual revolution in your life, in your home, in your community and in your corner of the world. This is the true conquest of Israel.

And we are told, we are promised that a positive shift in your life wherever you may live, positively shifts the state of affairs in Israel. A shift in the spoke shifts the hub. By building our “spiritual Israel” within we build physical Israel.

Here’s a suggestion, if I may:

Our sages teach us that by studying the laws and details about a specific entity, we help rebuild it. So even when we cannot physically perform a certain mitzvah (e.g. bring an offering in the temple, build and serve in the physical Temple), we “perform” the mitzvah by studying and “recreating” the experience as best as we possible can with the resources we have available to us. You can call it cognitive actualization: Cognitive focus generates practical reality. Sometimes when we can’t perform a certain action, we can focus our mind on it, thereby setting in motion a force that gets actualized in the process. A form of positive projection, if you wish. By thinking about the action we project and actually create it.

Based on this concept, here is the suggestion: As a show of solidarity with Israel and a way to help “build” the true Israel both in body and soul, let us organize classes to study in depth and detail the nature of the Holy Land – both its physical and spiritual nature. By exploring the spiritual and psychological parallels of Israel in our lives today we bond with the land. Israel’s geography, its personality, its very terrain – mountains and valleys, fruits and deserts, all reflect our own spiritual personality. To appreciate and preserve the power of Israel we must recognize and access its soul.

This of course is in addition to all other ways in which we support Israel – financially, emotionally and so on. Obviously, a powerful way of showing support is by visiting the Holy Land or even deciding to live there. But even for those of us that cannot do that (for whatever reason), we are not released from the obligation of building Israel within our lives and having Israel live inside of us. Indeed, perhaps our obligation may be even stronger, and it behooves us to find deeper ways to bond with Israel as the soul of the universe and recognize its integral connection to our own soul.

Yes, we are on our way to the Promised Land. For 3,330 years up until today. How long it will take is up to us.

The Lowest Place on Earth

Friday, January 18

Go down to the Wall for Friday night services. Am surprised by the large number of people gathering. Last time I was here (11 months ago) there were maybe 2000 people at the Wall on Friday night. Tonight there are close to 10,000!

Under the heavens, without a synagogue structure, in the shadow of the ancient, broken Wall, Jews of all backgrounds stand and pray as one. Could this all-inclusive unity ever be replicated in our shuls and synagogues? “Why is it,” I wonder, “that in our synagogues – some of them so ornate and beautiful – we don’t easily find a place that welcomes all people, regardless of affiliation or other class distinction? Shouldn’t a house of G-d receive every person?”

I guess we need a remnant of a Wall to wake us up to our inherent connection. Prosperity and our elaborate structures tend to divide us.

Following services we march up the 200+ steps (I should’ve counted) leading up to the “rova” – the Jewish Quarter, where some 600 families live. I am told that this area is only 1/10^th of the entire Old City. The other 9/10ths are comprised of the Armenian, Christian and Arab Quarters. No comment.

Friday night meal at the famous Schlass table. What a meal? Only around 37 different types of salad, one tastier than the next. Much Torah talk, some laughter, many songs. And what do you know? My good buddy Rabbi Shlomo Schwartz of Los Angeles, lovingly known as “Schwartzie,” is sitting at the table. I seem to be bumping into him all over the place. Shlomo is personally responsible for introducing thousands of Jews to their heritage. How many people have I met whose first Jewish experience was on UCLA Campus with Shlomo Schwartz, or at his thousand-plus High Holiday services in LA?

We sit and farbreng into the night. Cannot help but feel the surrealism of the situation. Sitting and eating all this wonderful food, singing together, sharing ideas and stories – and yet… yet, we are just a hundred yards away from the Temple Mount – the holiest place on earth.

I remember what a Jerusalem friend once told me. “Want to feel the depth of galut – spiritual displacement? Here, I’ll warm you up a frozen pizza, eat it while you look out the window at the Temple Mount?”

In New York complacency doesn’t seem so vulgar. But here in Jerusalem, ahh, how it hurts. I’m sure if I stayed here long enough I could “get used to it” – but that’s not saying much… I finally understand why one great Rebbe never moved to Israel. He explained:

“The dissonance is just too much to bear. To live there complacently and not make a daily protest about the dichotomy between people’s ordinary lives and the intense sanctity of the land – is something I cannot do. And to make this protest is something I do not want to do.”

So our work is cut out for us. We must wage all out war against complacency – both in Israel and outside of it.

I cannot sleep. I wander out later at night onto the rooftop of the home in which we are staying. The full view of the Old City stares back at me. Crucifixes, the golden crowns of the Greek Orthodox Church, stone rooftops, backdropped by the Mount of Olives in the distance. And of course, the grey-lead and golden domes of the two Mosques on the Temple Mount. How heartwarming…

And then, at 5AM, as dawn breaks, the muezzin’s Adhan, the Muslim call to prayer, echoes over the hills and rooftops of Jerusalem.

Some may say, “How beautiful to see all this multi-religious diversity and co-existence.” Others see the historical insult to Judaism – the ultimate expression of the churban beit hamikdash (destruction of the Holy Temple) and galut (exile), in which everyone tried to bury the Holy Temple and replace it with their own religious sites. Why else would they choose Jerusalem? And if they love Jerusalem that much, why don’t they move their religious centers from Mecca and Rome to Jerusalem?…

And of course, the billion-dollar question: What does the future hold? Who will dominate over this holiest piece of real estate?

Roaming the rooftop of the Old City – a place, like no other, that bridges the past and the future – elicits some of the biggest questions of our times.

Rabbi Akiva and his colleagues stood at just such a spot when they diverged in their reaction to seeing a fox roaming the Temple Mount rendered into a wilderness after the destruction by the Romans. As his colleagues cried, Rabbi Akiva smiled. They saw the destruction. He saw the redemption. I guess, you can see many things looking out at the rolling hills of Jerusalem.

I notice another thing. The buildings in the Arab Quarter are covered with satellite dishes. Not so in the Jewish Quarter. Do the Arabs simply watch more TV stations? Later I find out that this is due to the propaganda that Israel may cut their lines of communication, including the TV wires that run underground. They therefore install the dishes as a backup should their TV lines be sabotaged. But if Israel wants to sabotage, it could also find ways to block the signals and prevent them from reaching the dishes? “A kasha oif a maaseh,” as they say in Yiddish (you don’t ask a question about a story – stories can be absurd is the implication).

Enough said. All I am doing is reporting. You can interpret for yourselves.

Monday, January 19. Today I visited the lowest place on earth, the lowest of the lowest. A place of death that does not allow for any form of animate life. Indeed, any living thing entering this place is killed instantly.

The air is thick with sodium, drying out any moisture.

And what do you find in this dead place? Water. A beautiful turquoise lake, backdropped by rising mountains.

The place is called the Dead Sea. No seaweed or plants of any kind are in or around the water. No fish live in the water. Any fish accidentally entering into the waters from one of the several freshwater streams that feed the Sea are killed instantly.

You would imagine that this place would look, well, dead. But no. Instead the view is stunning. If you did not know better, driving down the 90 south on Israel’s West Bank you could think you’re driving down Highway One on the American West Coast.

But dead it is. The only living creatures that can enter these waters are humans. We can swim in them – actually float. The very salt that kills all life is the thing that makes you float and never allows you to sink. Interesting.

Reminds me of the profound words of a local drunk (Zalman der shiker).

“You drink to drown your tzoros (troubles). Then you find out that tzoros float”… But when they float you can also recognize and deal with them, something that cannot be done when your problems are submerged in denial.

Salt kills all life in the Dead Sea. Yet, salt is the greatest preservative of all, a force that heals. Hence, all the healing minerals extracted from the Dead Sea. To be exact, the water of the Dead Sea contains 21 minerals including magnesium, calcium, bromine and potassium. 12 of these are found in no other sea or ocean. Interesting.

The air is arid and dry. Yet, this is precisely why this region offers unpolluted and pollen-free air with low humidity. Due to the constant evaporation, the air contains high concentrations of several minerals, mainly bromine, providing a genuinely relaxing effect. Because of the high barometric pressure it has approximately 8% more oxygen than anywhere else on earth and consequently makes breathing easier.

The Dead Sea has no outlet. Which explains why it is so salty, in fact 6-10 times as salty as average seawater. The heat in this wide-open, below sea level, desert region evaporates the water at a very high rate, leaving heavy deposits of salts and minerals.

And most amazing of all. The Dead Sea is almost exactly as it was in Biblical times – first mentioned in Genesis 14:3.

I stand and stare at this paradoxical sight.

Jerusalem is 2700 feet above sea level. The Dead Sea, a mere 12 miles east, is 1300 feet below sea level – a drop of 4000 feet from the holiest city on Earth to the lowest place on Earth!

As you breathe in the saline air, your nasals get so dry that you need constant water replenishment. And replenish I did. I didn’t stop drinking water.

From the Dead Sea we climb Ein-Gedi. Ein-Gedi is a beautiful oasis nestled in the Judean desert around halfway down the Dead Sea. It abounds in brooks, waterfalls, as well as rich and diverse tropical vegetation. Filled with caves, this is the place where David hid from King Saul.

I look around and peer into the caves. Perhaps I can find the one that was miraculously covered by a spider web so that King Saul’s soldiers wouldn’t pursue David hiding inside the cave. We are told that David was able to uncover the indispensable role of every creature on Earth, except for a… spider. G-d showed David the value of a spider when it saved his life.

Search as I do, I cannot find the cave nor the spider web.

Tuesday, January 20. Visit a newfound friend in the District Court of Jerusalem. No simple feat. You see, the courthouse is situated in East Jerusalem. As I drive through the Arab neighborhood, I notice the heavy presence of security all over the place. The American embassy is here, as are some other official buildings. I can’t find the building I need, I drive around and around, until an Arab gentleman directs me to a parking lot, run by Arabs, where you can park your car for 10 Shekel and then enter the courthouse.

The security to enter the District Court is intense. The building windows are all covered in mesh. The courthouse will be closed this weekend, when the Muslims celebrate one of their holidays and march down the streets in multitudes.

I am told that this District Court building was formerly a Jordanian courthouse, captured after the 6-Day War, and converted into an Israeli courthouse.

Make myself a mental note: Must come back to East Jerusalem and do some more surveying.

Go out for lunch at Yoga, an Asian restaurant in Jerusalem’s German Colony, on Rechov Emek Refaim. Named so because German Templers built this area in the 19th century. The original occupants of the neighborhood were Protestants from southern Germany who had rebelled against the established church and sought to return to their sources. Their goal was an educated, healthy community with no priests and no formal church. During World War II, the British expelled the entire community because its residents kept in close contact with the fatherland, and many of them became Nazi supporters.

The rest of the afternoon is spent preparing to return back to New York, after a full, rich week in the Holy Land.

Flight leaves 12:01 AM from Lod Airport. El Al is much more efficient in the NY and Newark airport than in Israel. Here, as they say, “the customer is always wrong.” Two flights are scheduled, one for Newark departing at midnight, the other for NY departing at 1 AM. Confusion ensues as to which passengers get priority. You would think that someone knows how to tell time. But others argue, first come first serve. One Israeli begins yelling, with the cultural flailing of the arms punctuated by Hebrew expletives, “If you have a flight next month, and you happened to come to the airport today, you also want to be served first!” Another retorts, “Hey, I’ve been waiting in this line for a full… 15 minutes. Now you tell me that it’s only for Newark passengers!” The woman at the counter is intimidated (she must be American) and serves him immediately– though his flight is two hours away and the Newark passengers have only 30 minutes to go.

Just a final taste of Israeli brashness.

Wednesday, January 22. Land at Newark 5AM. Haven’t slept in two days. Tonight is our big night at the SoHo Playhouse, with my brother, Yosef Yitzchak and Peter Himmelman discussing important issues of our time, the spiritual search, relationships today, suffering and some other relevant topics. I am so out of it that I might as well be in it.

We have a sell out crowd. Remarkable evening. Very entertaining. I enjoy my brother’s passion and cannot stop laughing at Peter’s wit. (I can’t comment on my own performance for obvious subjective reasons; besides, I am basically out of time). “This venue can truly break new ground,” I think to myself. Profound and entertaining.

Maybe we’ll take the show on the road and bring it to Israel – ahh, now that’s an idea. A way to bridge the two hemispheres. We do need each other after all.

One thing is for sure: Love and pain, tears and smiles, sighs and laughter – all of life’s true emotions – are not very different among citizens of America and Israel, and for that matter, the rest of the world. So what makes us different? Only superficials. But superficials that have taken over our lives.

Let’s hope that we feel their tentacles instead of celebrate them as freedom. Then we can begin to get beyond that which divides us and access that which unites us.

2004 Edition

Thursday, Jan. 15, 9:43PM Jerusalem time –

Sitting in an Internet Cafe in the Old City writing thoughts that flow faster than my fingers can move. This place stimulates every sense, so much to say, yet so important to be silent, so much to absorb, yet so important to share. One cannot really communicate when in the absorption mode, but I shall try nonetheless. Maybe the best communication is the one that comes without calculating…

The good news and the bad news from Israel is the same: nothing has changed. People going about their quotidian lives, as people everywhere are doing, yet here every step you take is cast in the long shadows of history. A lingering sense of inevitable destiny thickens the air. You can feel the combustion, but the only way to survive is to sit in cafés, Internet or other, run your daily life, take care of your family and your health, and entertain/distract yourself in every which way.

As one Israeli friend tells me (only after I push him to the wall): “Thank G-d for the burden of our jobs, our need to bring in an income, even for the common cold. It takes your mind off of the ‘real’ things.”

Everywhere you turn festers with tensions of Biblical proportions, not just proportions but actual Biblical tensions. There are no leaders. No one with vision, no direction, nothing to look forward to. We’re “buying time.”

Buying time?! G-d, is this what life is all about? Getting by with a comfortable status quo, avoiding the real challenges, until our time comes and we leave the mess to the next generation? And what does the next generation do? It follows the lead of its predecessor, and pushes off the challenge to their children, and grandchildren?

Yet, I am not pessimistic for some strange reason. Because in some mysterious way, these problems are all man-made. The land has survived thousands of years of every form of abuse – whether it be ravaging wars or raging apathy. The Wall still stands, the waters still flow, the rain still falls. All this, while the people, well, the people still argue.

*****

Let me work my way backwards to Wednesday, January 14, upon my arrival to Israel.

Pick up my rented Avis from Lod airport, and drive to Jerusalem. I cannot help but feel overwhelmed by this country. I open the radio to take in the sounds and languages of the people in this land, while studying the terrain as I climb the Judean Hills surrounding Jerusalem. The contrast immediately jumps out at you: the man-made noise blaring from the radio, in Hebrew, Arabic, Russian (and others I don’t recognize) drowns out the sounds of history resonating from these mountains and valleys.

Torrential blessings fall from heaven. My window wipers effectively mop away the rainy blessings. In the Bible and the Talmud these rains were considered the greatest of blessings – the source of all sustenance. This is true today too. Yet, in some way we now have built window wipers and umbrellas, dams and gutters, to protect us from these blessings.

The rain falls in Jerusalem as well, but in a very different way. The clouds cover the city delivering their watery package, and a moment later the winds blow away the clouds and the blue sky appears. What makes it unique is that this pattern repeats itself again and again in quick form – billowing clouds pour rain below, only to be immediately followed by the reappearing sun, as if a hand is forcing the doors of heaven open, only to be closed again, and then the hand returns to open the doors yet again. It was just a year ago when I was here in the snow. Same experience, but then it was snow. Today it’s rain.

Israel is clearly where Heaven meets Earth – and all its consequences are quite apparent. Both matter and spirit tug at you in the Holy Land. The heavens open up, only to be closed a moment later by clouds.

Wednesday, January 14, 2PM. Much to do, but I must visit the Western Wall.

The Wall also seems not to have changed. Yes, there is construction going on now at the Wall to add approximately 30 feet to the plaza where people pray. But the Wall seems oblivious to the construction. It must have seen much more than this over the years.

I share this with someone I meet at the Wall. He tells me, that it’s just a wall of stones. “Don’t be so romantic about it. Poetry is great, but don’t ever take it too seriously,” he shares with me with a smile radiating with self-confident wisdom. OK. Whatever you say. “But why are you here praying at this wall of inanimate stones?” I ask him. He looks confused.

Yet another paradox. So what else is new in the Promised Land?

Thursday, January 15

Drive up the 91 north to pick up my daughter from her seminary in mystical Tsfat. As we approach Jericho, I keep glancing over to my right, to see the actual place where legions of Jews crossed over the River Jordan 3277 years ago. The arid air around the Dead Sea dries out my skin. This is the lowest place on Earth (below sea level), just a few miles from the highest spiritual place in Jerusalem. Is there a message here?

Greatness always invites both the highest and the lowest. Powerful energy can go both ways: It can lift us to the peaks, but also can drop us into the pits. The Holy of Holies is where the Divine is revealed, it must therefore remain protected lest we get burned by its intensity.

We drive from the arid Judean desert to the plush Galilee, from the deepest valley up high peaks. Cannot help but be amazed that in a span of a few hours you literally travel from one extreme to the next.

Tsfat is covered in deep fog, which finally gives way to a beautiful red hue covering the horizon with the setting sun. The curvy roads leading up to Tsfat are somewhat of our human surrender to the contours of the terrain. Nature and human beings don’t quite get along yet.

As we finally reach the city I look down below. It was just 3316 years ago, when the Jews left Egypt, and 3277 years when they crossed the River Jordan into the West Bank of the Promised Land.

As we live with the Torah portion relating how the Jewish people descend from Israel into Egypt, I have ascended from New York to Israel. I guess that we have always been traveling – one way or another – from the pits to the Promised Land or back. We pass each other like ships in the night, but this is the story of our lives.

What can I say, Israel evokes in me the most powerful reactions.

I don’t live here so it’s hard to say what happens to you once you get accustomed to daily life in a place like this. I have the luxury of a visitor. And I know that some may criticize me and say, “Why don’t you move here instead of waxing eloquent as yet another tourist?” Perhaps they are right. Perhaps.

But perhaps my job – the job of all of us living outside the window between heaven and earth – is to expose this window in the cities in which we live. After all, Jerusalem needs us as much as we need it.

They say that New York is the city that never sleeps. I guess that means the nightclubs, and… Citibank. They must have never been to Jerusalem.

Warmest regards from Yerusholayim – the city of complete awe.

Do Our Shadows Have Substance?

There can be no shadow if there is no light – The Rebbe

Let us continue our discussion on the anatomy of darkness.

In last week’s article, we discussed that darkness is the inherent nature of existence.  Albeit, not as an end in itself, but in order to bring light, yet we must recognize this fundamental darkness for us to free ourselves from its invisible clutches.

Now the question is this: Does darkness have substance, or is it just the absence of light? There are two opinions on the matter. Some sages opt for the former and others for the latter. The mystics go a step further: Darkness has both dimensions.

In psychological terms: There is a form of darkness that is merely the absence of light. For instance, when someone makes a mistake in judgment due to ignorance or inexperience. The confusion and error is a state of darkness, yet it does not have its own substance, it is not necessarily malicious. Certain information and experience could have illuminated the situation and not allowed for the error.

Similarly, a child could be deprived of a nurturing parent, which would cause a level of insecurity, but it may not become a force of its own, and with a special measure of nurturing one can supplement and provide for the proper nourishment and validation of the child’s identity.

There is however, a level of abuse, which actually creates a darkness and fear with “a life of its own.” Not merely an absence of something, that can be supplemented, but an actual force that now has to be dealt with.

Ignorance may have been the initial cause that led them to that place, but at this point it has become a very real part of their personality.

There are people who maliciously cause destruction, not out of ignorance, but because they may be corrupt or greedy. Ignorance may have been the initial cause that led them to that place, but at this point it has become a very real part of their personality.

What about the primordial Tzimtzum – is it an absence of light or does it have substance of its own? The answer is both: The Arizal says that the Tzimtzum means the concealment of the Divine light (energy), in order to leave “space” for our independent existence to emerge. Should the light be revealed, there would no longer be “space” for anything else. Yet, the Tzimtzum is very real, and it originates from the Divine power to conceal, the power of din and gevurah. It’s not merely the absence of light, but a force of its own (“hein hein gevurosov”). As Rabbi Schneur Zalman explains in Tanya that the “Tzimtzum” is called “keilim,” it has substance like a container. The Tzimtzum is not an absolute void. It contains – like “dark matter” — the “letters” of the residue (“reshimu”) within the “black hole.”

So the Tzimtzum is both absence of light and also has substance (“dark energy,” the Divine energy of concealment and darkness, and “dark matter,” the “containers”).

Important to note that either way, both dimension of darkness are not an end in themselves, but in order to introduce an even deeper light.

Psychologically speaking, we need to achieve two things in dispelling the darkness in our own psyches and lives. First, we must introduce light – true knowledge that illuminates and brings clarity. We must also bring in love and compassion, which nurtures the soul, like water that revitalizes a wilted flower. Second, in the areas where the darkness has manifested itself to the point where is has a life of its own (substance), we need to find ways to channel that “life” (energy) into positive areas, and ultimately transform it into a force for light. Like containers or words – we use the actual dark matter of the material universe to express and channel the sublime.

Indeed, we can say that darkness as absence of light can never truly be elevated or transformed, because it has no substance of its own; it is nothing more than the absence of light, and thus is dispelled by shining a light. Darkness as substance can actually be redeemed and transformed.

***

This discussion on light and darkness are not mere academic exercises, but actually an attempt to dissect the essential stuff that makes up our very existence. The story of Genesis tells it to us the way it is: “It was night and it was day…”

The Earth was first covered in darkness, then there was light. At first darkness and light were mixed together in one light/dark snowball. Then G-d divided between them, and named the light “day” and the darkness “night.”

The cycle of night and day, evening and morning – repeated in Genesis on each day of the week – is the cycle of life.

We must learn about this cycle, assimilate it and align every aspect of our daily lives with this rhythm. This is called learning how to swim. To navigate the waves of our lives we must learn to recognize their cycles.

If you keep fighting, the waves can bring you down.

Have you ever tried to swim against the waves? When you do, your energy gets drained faster than your flailing arms. If you keep fighting, the waves can bring you down. But when you swim with the waves and allow them to carry you, their energy propels you forward, like the air that lifts the flapping wings of a bird.

Well, when it comes to our everyday life we always seem to be fighting the waves. That may be the reason so many of us are exhausted and overcome by fatigue.

Two primary reasons are the cause for this futile and weary battle. One, we are not aware or familiar with the cycles of life. They are like unexpected waves that catch us by surprise, and by the time we are struck by them it is often too late to begin swimming. Second, human nature gravitates toward the comfortable and the static. We are therefore averse to always swimming the waves. We just want to be left alone in peace.

For this reason we read and reread the Biblical story of the descent into Egypt followed by the ascent from there. The cycle of darkness and light manifests itself in real time as Jacob and his sons descend into the constraints of Egypt/Mitzrayim. First comes the darkness: Joseph’s being sold into slavery and ending up in prison in Egypt. Then comes the light: Joseph’s ascent to leadership, and finally his reconciliation with his family, their descent into Egypt, where they live in the finest part of the land. Indeed, Jacob’s last seventeen years in Egypt were his best years. After Jacob and his sons’ deaths, comes the serious darkness: The Egyptian bondage and genocide that would last for a bitter 210 years. Finally, comes the light of the redemption from Egypt, which gives birth to the great Jewish nation, who then proceed to receive the Divine mandate at Sinai.

The darkness of Mitzrayim decelerated from absence of light to a true and real state of substantial darkness [As reflected in the ninth plague — darkness with substance]. The redemption from Egypt was not just about eliminating the absence of justice, but also leaving the land enriched and more than before – “with great wealth,” as promised to Abraham.

The Biblical account of Jacob and his family’s the descent into Egypt (in these week’s chapters) is essentially the story of our own lives. Life is all about descents and ascents. Beginning from the descent of the soul into this material world, we will go though many more descents. Some are an absence of light, some a darkness of substance. Yet, every descent has a corresponding ascent. Indeed, the purpose of the descent is to reach a place higher than the one that preceded the descent.

As our sages tell us: “There is a wheel that turns in the world.”

Life is like a wheel. The wheel of life turns up and down throughout the experiences of life. Human nature is such that when we are on the top of the wheel, we are in good spirits. But in truth only a fool feels content, for the wheel of life is constantly turning. One who is on the bottom of the wheel and cries about his plight is also a fool, for he too is on the turning wheel.

The mystery of life is not about achieving nirvana; it is about navigating the vicissitudes.

Light and dark, day and night, joy and pain, ups and downs  – this is the nature of existence. Life is all about cycles that orbit a broad spectrum spanning from the brightest light to the darkest gloom, and back again.

Life is not static. As much as we would like to just stop moving, the fact remains that the time and space we occupy is always moving, no less than the spinning earth beneath our feet. The secret to success in this world is to make our peace with the cycles of light and dark in our lives and in the world around us. We must learn to swim and not fight the waves.

Two words describe the basic structure of existence: Light and dark. Master these two words, search for them in all your experiences – recognize the waves, and they will become your friends instead of unknown, unexpected forces that flood our lives.

It may appear like we are living in a tunnel, and we await the light at the end of tunnel. But in truth that is not the case. We are not living in a tunnel; we are living inside a wave, inside a wheel, if you wish. A spinning wheel that may appear motionless on the surface, but is actually turning all the time. The wheel is made up of darkness and light.

We have two choices: Resist the movement, or ride the waves.

Do not be deceived by the fact that you may not see the wheel turning upward. Because like a spiral staircase (“shvindel trep” in Yiddish), we turn our backs to the destination just before we reach its peak.

May we all be blessed with the smallest and shortest downturns and the longest and greatest upturns – revealed and obvious blessings of health, prosperity and peace.

Drums, Mysticism and Chanukah Light

Upon hearing about our drumming event last night, a friend asked me (in Yiddish): “Vos, bistu mishuge gevoren (did you go crazy)? What’s this thing about drumming? Why don’t you stick to traditional teaching and writing?

For those of you that may not be aware of what I am talking about, last night, December 24^th, the sixth night of Chanukah, our organization hosted a unique Chanukah event called The Sound of Light: Interactive Drumming, Music and Mysticism. It featured African drumming, mystical teachings, song and menorah lighting. It was a highly interactive experience, in which everyone attending drummed together and participated in a true celebration of spirit.

So, what indeed is this drumming thing?

The short answer is this: We are living in a time of religious crisis. For many people, the religious experience in general, and Judaism in particular, is divorced of personal relevance. It simply does not speak to many people’s hearts and souls, does not address their most intimate issues. When dealing with personal and psychological challenges, even devout people do not necessarily know how to find answers in religious texts. Thus, the large vacuum that inevitably results in the search for spirituality outside of one’s religious tradition.

The situation has only been exacerbated by the onset of the information age and the technological revolution. Serious competition exists today to capture our minds and hearts. We are under a constant barrage of information coming from the media, television, the Internet and every company’s marketing strategy, all demanding our attention and inundating us with promises of youth, wealth and pleasure. The entertainment industry, clubs, galleries, museums, theatres, including high-quality programs in music and the arts, have in some ways become the temples of our times. It’s nothing less than an onslaught, an attack on our psyches. Under these circumstances, even healthy religion would be hard pressed to get our attention. How much more so when faced with irrelevant – or even negative – religious experience: It simply cannot compete with all the “products” beckoning us.

What is necessary is not to create a new religion, but to find innovative ways to access and excavate the deeper resources of tradition – to uncover its profound, personalized spirituality. We need today nothing less than a revolution in the religious experience.

One way to do this is to find ways to bridge people’s current life experiences and spirituality. We need to build upon points of reference, and demonstrate to people how G-d can be found not just in the synagogue on Yom Kippur, but also in music, art, science, business, and… drumming.

Hence, last night’s drumming event, which concluded our five-part series, The Sound of Light, exploring the metaphysics of light, and its parallels in physics, psychology and mysticism, all applied in our personal relationships.

When I was first introduced to the idea of drumming, I initially rejected it in my mind. But then I thought to myself: Hey, why don’t you experiment and see what it’s about. To my surprise, the primal sounds elicited a profound resonance of rhythm that paralleled so many ideas in Jewish mysticism that I had studied. Chassidic teachings discuss the rhythm of existence – the dual pulsating energy called “rotzo and shuv.” Existence is essentially Divine breath, which is constantly recreating existence in a cosmic dance that is continuously inhaling and exhaling.

Our heartbeat too reflects the cosmic expansion and contraction that pumps energy into the arteries of life. Everything alive, everything that exists, is a dynamic flow traveling back and forth.

And then I remembered the poignant words of the Rebbe Yosef Yitzchak: “We must listen to the lichtelech” (the flames, lovingly called “lichtlelech,” flame’elech). What better way to listen to the sound of the light than to actually combine it with the sounds of drums and songs.

And so, on the sixth night of Chanukah I had the honor to see the light of sound emanating from the synergy of over a hundred and fifty people beating on drums.

We then lit the Chanukah menorah, and experienced the sound of light – we were able to listen to the lichtelech. The flames tell a story – first and foremost: the story of our own restless lives. The story of yearning and returning, of tension and resolution, of dreams and realism, of a transcendent soul in search of grounding.

So, though the world of the spirit transcends the senses, today more than ever we must learn to bridge the sensory world – our over-stimulated sensory world – with the supersensory. We must use our eyes and ears to see and listen to things that defy the eye and the ear. To help us along we reach into a place in the soul where the two intersect and you can actually hear the sights and see the sounds.

Whenever you experience true love, true unity, all the senses melt into one seamless whole, sight, sound, smell, taste and touch, all fuse into one all encompassing experience. Like a child in its mother’s womb, all the child hears for nine consecutive months is its mother’s heartbeat. But it’s not just a sound; it’s a womblike all-encompassing experience.

This experience was somewhat recreated when we sang maos tzur and haneiroit halolu, to the beat of the drums. The flickering flames, the yearn and return rhythm of Chassidic melodies, was echoed in the call and response of the speaking drums. As I think back to the magic of the evening, I realized that these parallels all fed into each other, and fed us all in one glorious Chanukah celebration.

As a finale, our assistant dean, and acclaimed songwriter-pianist, Phillip Namanworth, graced us with several original Chanukah compositions, including a brand new hip-hoppish song inspired by the rotzo and shuv-give and take, written specifically for this event, ‘Trying to Get The Balance Right.’

As we stand at the close of Chanukah 2003, it behooves each of us to listen to the flames. To listen to the sound emitted by light. Each soul also has its own hum. To help achieve this, sing a song, drum a beat – through the tune of music and the drumbeat you may be able to hear the sound of your soul and the deeper sound of the flames.

Learning how to speak to yourself in a new way can then help you speak with and listen to others in new ways, accessing the power of “rotzo and shuv” – the dual pulsating forces that contain the secret of a balanced life.

Each of our souls ticks to a perfect rhythm. A newborn child is aligned with the soul’s inner rhythm. Material life, with all its distractions, throws our rhythm out of sync.

All our lives, all our seeking, all our aspirations and ambitions, are searching to realign ourselves to our inner rhythm

Chanukah light has another primary theme: Its ability to illuminate darkness. The miracle consisted of finding pure oil and rededicating the Temple after the Greeks had defiled the Temple and its oil. We light the menorah after sundown, facing the street, in order to illuminate the night and the world outside.

As such, our weekly workshops (and the articles in this space) for the month of January/Tevet will explore The Sound of Darkness, how to uncover the deeper light within the shadows of our lives (see details below).

Drums, music, art, physics – spirituality and mysticism. The list goes on. They are all one world, driven by one driving Divine force.

Judaism offers us infinitely rich resources to understand ourselves and the role we play in the universe. We need not look for new and original “systems.”

After a lifetime of work a professor presented his grand theory to the academy of the wise, eagerly awaiting his peers approval. After a few weeks the academy gave him their mark: “Your paper,” they said, “is both good and original.” The professor was elated. But before he could celebrate they continued, “the problem is this: the part that’s good is not original; and the part that’s original is not good.”

Truth is never new. Musical notes always remain the same. The ways we discover truth may be new, we play the musical notes in infinitely new combinations, but truth itself is by definition timeless and eternal.

The call of our times is not to create new musical notes, but to learn how play the original ones in creative ways that allow us to relate to them and integrate them into our lives.

We here at the Meaningful Life Center are dedicated to this calling: Our goal is to help people integrate spirituality in innovative ways that excite both the senses and the soul.

Blessings for an illuminating Chanukah, one that illuminates your entire life.

January/Tevet at the Meaningful Life Center

THE SOUND OF DARKNESS

In the month of December/Kislev we explored the nature of light and its affect in our lives. Next month join us as we excavate the metaphysics of darkness and uncover the deeper light within.

From light to… darkness to… deeper light

We all have dark areas in our lives – moments of loneliness and fear, times when we just feel that there is no hope, lurking shadows in our psyche. What role do these forces play? What is their true nature? Above all, how can we overcome their threatening presence, and transform them into positive energy?

Did you know ..

that darkness is really another form of light?
Learn how to access that light revealed to us by ancient mystics. Explore new ways to view the shadows of your life, and transform darkness into opportunity.

Did you know..

that there are two types of darkness?
These two dimensions exist in the darker recesses of our unconscious. Discover the two levels of darkness, and how they are reflected in our daily experiences.

Did you know..

that darkness contains enormous energy?

Like a black hole, darkness is a powerful force that is trapped in its own confines.

Access the power of the night and Free this enormous energy.

At the end of the year 1798 a man was miraculously released from prison in Czarist Russia. The world has never been the same since then.

Now, 205 years later to the day, another major event has taken place that is changing the landscape of the world.

The 1798 event is not widely known, but I submit that we cannot fully understand the implications of current events until we appreciate the event that transpired 205 years ago.

On the 19^th of Kislev 1798 (in the Hebrew year 5559), Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi was released from prison after his wrongful arrest at the hands of the Russian government. This day of liberation became known as the Rosh Hashana of Chassidus, which heralded a new stage in history.

On this same day, 205 years later, Saddam Hussein was captured “like a rat in a hole.”

What connection, you may wonder, is there between these two events?

Some history first. During the Russo-Franco war of 1812, after Napoleon invaded Russia, Jewish leaders in Russia broke into two camps, one supporting the victory of French Emperor Napoleon, the other Russian Czar Alexander. The former felt that if Napoleon won the war material life would become much easier for Jews. The latter argued that though Napoleon’s victory offered physical emancipation of the oppressed, it would compromise Jewish spiritual life. Napoleon, after all, represented an atheistic, self-glorifying, G-dless enlightenment.

Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, known as the Alter Rebbe, was a major voice in the Jewish opposition to Napoleon. His position was the one that ultimately prevailed.  Rabbi Schneur Zalman was obviously not opposed to freedom from material oppression. What he wisely recognized was that this freedom has to be attained gradually, so as not to overwhelm the tenuous nature of spiritual life in a material world. And his fears were confirmed in the events that took place in Europe during the 19^th century: Modern assimilation was birthed as a result of a people unprepared for the challenges of accelerated emancipation.

As time passed, emancipation was finally achieved to the point that today we are virtually free of any institutionalized oppression. But today, having achieved a deeper state of maturity we also have the opportunity to integrate both freedoms: material and spiritual. Today we have the ability to use our prosperity and comforts to advance a spiritual revolution. Yet, the challenge still remains not to take our freedoms for granted. Our greatest enemy today is within: our enemy is complacency – the one borne out of prosperity. When we don’t have to fight for our ideals, they tend to stagnate.

In Biblical terms the battle between matter and spirit is the struggle between Esau and Jacob. After Esau and Jacob reconcile (in last week’s Torah portion), Esau invites Jacob to become his neighbor. Jacob replies,

“My lord you know that the children are weak and I have responsibility for the nursing sheep and cattle. If they are driven hard for even one day, they will die… Please go ahead of me… I will lead my group slowly, following the pace of the work ahead of me, and the pace of the children. I will eventually come to you, my lord, in Seir.”

Jacob is telling Esau and all of us that there is much work to be done in resolving the inherent tension between the material and the spiritual. And this work must be done with complete focus. Jacob rejects even Esau’s offer to help by putting “some of my people at your disposal,” even that poses too great of a risk. “Just let me remain on friendly terms with you,” Jacob tells Esau.

History is a process – the process of refining the material world and slowly acclimating it to its inner soul. As the river of time flowed forward, each generation carried the baton of its leg of the great marathon of history – each progressive generation building upon its predecessor, slowly refining the mundane world.

Today, after 3559 years of work from the time of Jacob and Esau, the accumulative energy of countless generations has so refined the world that it is ready for reconciliation. Jacob can finally fulfill his promise to Esau, “I will eventually come to you,” and the world can be united under one G-d, with a complete fusion of matter and spirit and each nation serving in its own unique manner.

Yud Tes Kislev, the 19^th day of the Hebrew month of Kislev, is a major milestone in this process.

Chassidus is contemporary Jewish mysticism. It renders and channels this ancient wisdom into an accessible blueprint for life that teaches us how to integrate our material lives with a higher, spiritual purpose.

The 19^th of Kislev is the birthday of this powerful system. Tradition tells us that the deeper reason for the Alter Rebbe’s arrest was a heavenly challenge to his efforts to reveal the depths of mysticism to the mainstream. Until that point in history, cosmic secrets were in the exclusive domain of sacred few Tzaddikim. The Alter Rebbe’s liberation on Yud Tes (19) Kislev was a Divine signal and declaration that a new phase in history had arrived – the time had come to empower the masses with the ability to transform their material lives and the physical world into a home for the sublime.

This was always the purpose of existence, but in earlier generations global transformation would have not have been possible without overt Divine intervention. In natural terms, it did not seem possible that human efforts could achieve worldwide change. Yud Tes Kislev opened up a new channel – which would lead in subsequent years to the Industrial revolution, the emergence of democracy, the atomic and nuclear age, the information revolution – enormous changes that continue to grow at an accelerated pace.

Now back to Saddam’s capture on Yud Tes Kislev 2003. 14 years ago during the first Gulf War the Rebbe, my Rebbe, reacted strongly to the attack on Saddam Hussein. In the winter of 1991, the Rebbe elaborated on the fact that in history there were nations that had a certain level of permanence, for good or for bad. One of these forces was Babylon. Going back to the times of the great Babylonian Empire, which dominated the region, and even before that, when Babylon was developed by Nimrod, and the building of the powerful Tower of Babel.

Now, the Rebbe said, Saddam and Babylon’s firm power was disrupted, and he was forced to flee from his capital and center of power, and run from location to location. The Rebbe equated Saddam with historical villains like Pharaoh and Haman, and with the power of Babylon of old.

I always wondered why the Rebbe saw this event as so significant, more than the downfall of many previous tyrants in history. Indeed, as it turned out in 1991, Hussein remained in power, and the Rebbe’s words seemed moot. True, the Rebbe said at the time “these words will be applicable at a future time,” but still, even if Saddam had fallen, why was this such a significant event? Seemingly many greater events had occurred over the years.

My question was finally answered last Saturday night. I was on a plane flying back to NY from Seattle, when I heard the news of Saddam Hussein’s capture. What struck me immediately was that the capture took place on the eve of Yud Tes Kislev, concluding a long manhunt that began on Purim last year with the onset of the Gulf War II, and actually began 14 years ago, during Persian Gulf War I which actually ended then on Shushan Purim!

“I mean, this is just too much ‘coincidence’ to ignore,” I thought to myself sitting in my Jet Blue seat flying through the skies of free America.

“Yud Tes Kislev,” I thought to myself, “that’s the key.” 205 years ago Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s liberation opened up the door to a far greater liberation: the freedom to finally unite heaven and earth.

But the battle then was with Esau – and his different faces, the various faces of the West: Russia, France, and Europe in general (should also mention Greece, as we approach Chanukah). Initially the battle was to secure spiritual integrity. This required a certain measure of insulation from the world of “Esau.” As the years passed and we matured, and the universe continued to become more and more refined in the process, we reached a stage when we can enter the emancipated world of the West and not only would we not be compromised; we would transform, refine and spiritualize material secularism, turning the world into a home for the Divine.

But even as our peace grew with Esau, to the point that America has become a haven of opportunity to integrate material prosperity with “in G-d we trust,” our final challenge apparently is with Babylon and Ishmael.

As Rabbi Schneur Zalman and his successors explain, that the final frontier – the final refinement – is confronting Esau and Ishmael. The Zohar and other mystical texts make it very clear that the last challenge would be with Ishmael (See Zohar II 32a. Rambam, Iggeret Teiman ch. 3. R’ Dovber, Shaarei Teshuvah II 17a).

The Romans – Esau – destroyed the second Temple. The Babylonians destroyed the first one. So as we move forward in history, we first repair our rift with Rome, the West and Esau. Then, we reach further back in history and repair our rift with Babylon, a rift that goes back over four thousand years ago, with the building of the Tower of Babel (which means confusion), and even further back – to the cradle of civilization in the Garden of Eden.

So on Yud Tes Kislev, the day of “Jacob’s” liberation from the clutches of “Esau” (at the time, the Alter Rebbe and Czarist Russia respectively), the contemporary Ishmael and modern-day Nevuchadnezzar, the “lion of Babylon” vanished.

[One interesting footnote stands out: Children of Esau seem to never surrender. Hitler nor Stalin allowed themselves to be captured. Like a true “warrior and man of the field” they preferred suicide over captivity. Children of Ishmael seem to be another story. Hussein did not put up the slightest fight. Interesting… Is Ishmael a greater coward than Esau?]

Babylon is like no other country, and its conquest like no other victory. (The Book of Daniel (chapter 5) documents in detail the fall of Babylon of old). Today everyone sees that the final frontier is the battle in the Middle East – the confrontation between Esau and Ishmael, with Jacob as usual in the middle. The first stand, the first victory, interestingly, was in Babylon.

By no means is this an endorsement of political interests and ulterior motives that the war may have; rather it is an observation on the deeper forces of destiny that we are witnessing. This isn’t even about the fall of great tyrant who perpetrated grave crimes against his own citizens. Though not insignificant, the fall of Saddam Hussein is not greater than the fall of other criminal leaders in history.

What makes Saddam’s capture stand out is the Babylon angle, and now, of course, the Yud Tes Kislev one.

History is a continuum. Peace in our lifetime will only be possible if we make peace with the rifts of our past. Today, we are confronted with forces that have been unleashed thousands of years ago.

Yud Tes Kislev in Babylon indeed. Who would have thought? We always knew that this day of liberation was related to our battle with Esau. Who would have imagined that it’s long arms would also open up doors in Babylon…

Events are sometimes separated by 205 years. But when you connect the dots, a bigger picture emerges that helps explain the world altering changes that we have experienced in the last two centuries.

And perhaps, it can help us understand what lies ahead.

At the end of the year 1798 a man was miraculously released from prison in Czarist Russia. The world has never been the same since.

Now, 205 years later to the day, another major event has taken place that is changing the landscape of the world.

The 1798 event is not widely known, but I submit that we cannot fully understand the implications of current events until we appreciate the event that transpired 205 years ago.

On the 19^th of Kislev 1798 (in the Hebrew year 5559), Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi was released from prison after his wrongful arrest at the hands of the Russian government. This day of liberation became known as the Rosh Hashana of Chassidus, which heralded a new stage in history.

On this same day, 205 years later, Saddam Hussein was captured “like a rat in a hole.”

What connection, you may wonder, is there between these two events?

Some history first. During the Russo-Franco war of 1812, after Napoleon invaded Russia, Jewish leaders in Russia broke into two camps, one supporting the victory of French Emperor Napoleon, the other Russian Czar Alexander. The former felt that if Napoleon won the war material life would become much easier for Jews. The latter argued that though Napoleon’s victory offered physical emancipation of the oppressed, it would compromise Jewish spiritual life. Napoleon, after all, represented an atheistic, self-glorifying, G-dless enlightenment.

Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, known as the Alter Rebbe, was a major voice in the Jewish opposition to Napoleon. His position was the one that ultimately prevailed. (for the detailed story click here). Rabbi Schneur Zalman was obviously not opposed to freedom from material oppression. What he wisely recognized was that this freedom has to be attained gradually, so as not to overwhelm the tenuous nature of spiritual life in a material world. And his fears were confirmed in the events that took place in Europe during the 19^th century: Modern assimilation was birthed as a result of a people unprepared for the challenges of accelerated emancipation.

As time passed, emancipation was finally achieved to the point that today we are virtually free of any institutionalized oppression. But today, having achieved a deeper state of maturity we also have the opportunity to integrate both freedoms: material and spiritual. Today we have the ability to use our prosperity and comforts to advance a spiritual revolution. Yet, the challenge still remains not to take our freedoms for granted. Our greatest enemy today is within: our enemy is complacency – the one borne out of prosperity. When we don’t have to fight for our ideals, they tend to stagnate.

In Biblical terms the battle between matter and spirit is the struggle between Esau and Jacob. After Esau and Jacob reconcile (in last week’s Torah portion), Esau invites Jacob to become his neighbor. Jacob replies, “My lord you know that the children are weak and I have responsibility for the nursing sheep and cattle. If they are driven hard for even one day, they will die… Please go ahead of me… I will lead my group slowly, following the pace of the work ahead of me, and the pace of the children. I will eventually come to you, my lord, in Seir.”

Jacob is telling Esau and all of us that there is much work to be done in resolving the inherent tension between the material and the spiritual. And this work must be done with complete focus. Jacob rejects even Esau’s offer to help by putting “some of my people at your disposal,” even that poses too great of a risk. “Just let me remain on friendly terms with you,” Jacob tells Esau.

History is a process – the process of refining the material world and slowly acclimating it to its inner soul.

As the river of time flowed forward, each generation carried the baton of its leg of the great marathon of history – each progressive generation building upon its predecessor, slowly refining the mundane world.

Today, after 3559 years of work from the time of Jacob and Esau, the accumulative energy of countless generations has so refined the world that it is ready for reconciliation. Jacob can finally fulfill his promise to Esau, “I will eventually come to you,” and the world can be united under one G-d, with a complete fusion of matter and spirit and each nation serving in its own unique manner. (for more on this see The Big Confrontation – Jacob & Esau Meet).

Yud Tes Kislev, the 19^th day of the Hebrew month of Kislev, is a major milestone in this process.

Chassidus is contemporary Jewish mysticism. It renders and channels this ancient wisdom into an accessible blueprint for life that teaches us how to integrate our material lives with a higher, spiritual purpose.

The 19^th of Kislev is the birthday of this powerful system. Tradition tells us that the deeper reason for the Alter Rebbe’s arrest was a heavenly challenge to his efforts to reveal the depths of mysticism to the mainstream. Until that point in history, cosmic secrets were in the exclusive domain of sacred few Tzaddikim. The Alter Rebbe’s liberation on Yud Tes (19) Kislev was a Divine signal and declaration that a new phase in history had arrived – the time had come to empower the masses with the ability to transform their material lives and the physical world into a home for the sublime.

This was always the purpose of existence, but in earlier generations global transformation would not have been possible without overt Divine intervention. In natural terms, it did not seem possible that human efforts could achieve worldwide change. Yud Tes Kislev opened up a new channel – which would lead in subsequent years to the Industrial revolution, the emergence of democracy, the atomic and nuclear age, the information revolution – enormous changes that continue to grow at an accelerated pace.

Now back to Saddam’s capture on Yud Tes Kislev 2003. 14 years ago during the first Gulf War the Rebbe, my Rebbe, reacted strongly to the attack on Saddam Hussein. In the winter of 1991, the Rebbe elaborated on the fact that in history there were nations that had a certain level of permanence, for good or for bad. One of these forces was Babylon. Going back to the times of the great Babylonian Empire, which dominated the region, and even before that, when Babylon was developed by Nimrod, and the building of the powerful Tower of Babel.

Now, the Rebbe said, Saddam and Babylon’s firm power was disrupted, and he was forced to flee from his capital and center of power, and run from location to location. The Rebbe equated Saddam with historical villains like Pharaoh and Haman, and with the power of Babylon of old. (click here to read my brother’s article on the topic).

I always wondered why the Rebbe saw this event as so significant, more than the downfall of many previous tyrants in history. Indeed, as it turned out in 1991, Hussein remained in power, and the Rebbe’s words seemed moot. True, the Rebbe said at the time “these words will be applicable at a future time,” but still, even if Saddam had fallen, why was this such a significant event? Seemingly many greater events had occurred over the years.

My question was finally answered last Saturday night. I was on a plane flying back to NY from Seattle, when I heard the news of Saddam Hussein’s capture. What struck me immediately was that the capture took place on the eve of Yud Tes Kislev, concluding a long manhunt that began on Purim last year with the onset of the Gulf War II, and actually began 14 years ago, during Persian Gulf War I which actually ended then on Shushan Purim! (see my article last year, Purim II: Shushan War).

“I mean, this is just too much ‘coincidence’ to ignore,” I thought to myself sitting in my Jet Blue seat flying through the skies of free America.

“Yud Tes Kislev,” I thought to myself, “that’s the key.” 205 years ago Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s liberation opened up the door to a far greater liberation: the freedom to finally unite heaven and earth.

But the battle then was with Esau – and his different faces, the various faces of the West: Russia, France, and Europe in general (should also mention Greece, as we approach Chanukah). Initially the battle was to secure spiritual integrity. This required a certain measure of insulation from the world of “Esau.” As the years passed and we matured, and the universe continued to become more and more refined in the process, we reached a stage when we can enter the emancipated world of the West and not only would we not be compromised; we would transform, refine and spiritualize material secularism, turning the world into a home for the Divine.

But even as our peace grew with Esau, to the point that America has become a haven of opportunity to integrate material prosperity with “in G-d we trust,” our final challenge apparently is with Babylon and Ishmael.

As Rabbi Schneur Zalman and his successors explain, that the final frontier – the final refinement – is confronting Esau and Ishmael (see Abraham’s Vision – Roots of Today’s Conflict). The Zohar and other mystical texts make it very clear that the last challenge would be with Ishmael (See Zohar II 32a. Rambam, Iggeret Teiman ch. 3. R’ Dovber, Shaarei Teshuvah II 17a).

The Romans – Esau – destroyed the second Temple. The Babylonians destroyed the first one. So as we move forward in history, we first repair our rift with Rome, the West and Esau. Then, we reach further back in history and repair our rift with Babylon, a rift that goes back over four thousand years ago, with the building of the Tower of Babel (which means confusion), and even further back – to the cradle of civilization in the Garden of Eden.

So on Yud Tes Kislev, the day of “Jacob’s” liberation from the clutches of “Esau” (at the time, the Alter Rebbe and Czarist Russia respectively), the contemporary Ishmael and modern-day Nevuchadnezzar, the “lion of Babylon” (as Hussein prided himself) has been vanquished.

[One interesting footnote stands out: Children of Esau seem to never surrender. Hitler nor Stalin allowed themselves to be captured. Like a true “warrior and man of the field” they preferred suicide over captivity. Children of Ishmael seem to be another story. Hussein did not put up the slightest fight. Interesting… Is Ishmael a greater coward than Esau?]

Babylon is like no other country, and its conquest like no other victory. (The Book of Daniel (chapter 5) documents in detail the fall of Babylon of old). Today everyone sees that the final frontier is the battle in the Middle East – the confrontation between Esau and Ishmael, with Jacob as usual in the middle. The first stand, the first victory, interestingly, was in Babylon.

By no means is this an endorsement of political interests and ulterior motives that the war may have; rather it is an observation on the deeper forces of destiny that we are witnessing. This isn’t even about the fall of great tyrant who perpetrated grave crimes against his own citizens. Though not insignificant, the fall of Saddam Hussein is not greater than the fall of other criminal leaders in history.

What makes Saddam’s capture stand out is the Babylon angle, and now, of course, the Yud Tes Kislev one.

History is a continuum. Peace in our lifetime will only be possible if we make peace with the rifts of our past. Today, we are confronted with forces that have been unleashed thousands of years ago.

Yud Tes Kislev in Babylon indeed. Who would have thought? We always knew that this day of liberation was related to our battle with Esau. Who would have imagined that it’s long arms would also open up doors in Babylon…

Events are sometimes separated by 205 years. But when you connect the dots, a bigger picture emerges that helps explain the world altering changes that we have experienced in the last two centuries.

And perhaps, it can help us understand what lies ahead.

If it can be broken, it can be fixed – Chassidic masters

Editors note: This week the MLC ran its second of a five- part interactive series, The Sound of Light: The Spiritual Physics of Chanukah – Secrets to a Balanced Life, led by Rabbi Simon Jacobson.

It was an electrifying evening. The dynamic interaction that ensued was surprising both in its intensity and its insights.

You are all invited to participate in the live programs, which will be taking place during the next four Wednesday nights in New York City, culminating in a powerful, multi-sensory interactive Chanukah experience, with music, drums and Chanukah lights (details follow below).

Here again we bring you some of Rabbi Jacobson’s notes about the evening’s discussion, for the benefit of our friends who were unable to attend these events. As always, we welcome and invite your feedback. (Tapes are also available of these workshops, details below).

Next week, in part three of this unique series, we look forward to hearing Prof. Branover address the audience. Prof. Branover is head of the Center of Magnetohydrodynamic Studies at Ben Gurion University, Israel. He will be discussing Quantum Chanukah: Waves, Particles & Beyond, followed by questions, answers and group interaction.

There is a natural rhythm to life. At some point in life this rhythm gets disrupted. And the rest, as they say, is history. The remainder of our lives we are in search of regaining our rhythm.

This in essence is the story of life. No matter who you are you are always going through cycles. Life is never a plateau. It’s more like hills and valleys. If we are blessed the cycle is symmetrical. If we are not, the crests and troughs tend to the extremes.

This is also the story of the Torah. Constant movement is the undercurrent of the entire Torah. Adam and Eve banished from Paradise. Cain wandering the earth. Noah riding the ark through the raging flood. Abraham’s Lech Lecho – perhaps the single most defining journey in history. Jacob’s leaving home, and his subsequent life of continuous displacement (discussed below). The uprooting of Joseph and his descent into Egypt. Only to be followed by Jacob and his family, as they begin their lives in a foreign land.

And that’s only in the book of Genesis. Enter Exodus and a new radical series of journeys begin. Starting with the Egyptian exile and bondage, the story continues that even after the Exodus (yet another journey), the journey is only about to begin. For heaven’s sake: The Jewish people suffered 210 years under Egyptian oppression, why not let them go home and live in peace?… But no, following the Exodus the people begin their final journey related in the Bible: Their forty years of wandering in the Sinai wilderness.

Indeed, the rest of the entire Torah takes place during the journeys in the desert. A chapter is even named “Journeys” (Massei), documenting their 42 journeys. The Torah concludes with the end of the journey, as the people arrive to the east bank of the River Jordan. No, it doesn’t tell us about their entry into the Promised Land (that happens only later in the book of Joshua). We never read about them reaching their destination – the one aspired to by Abraham and the people from the beginning of time.

And the story never ends. After the relatively brief respite during the Temple period, the people are exiled once again, and until this very day we are on the move, migrating from land to land, escaping, running, expelled – anything but quiet reprieve. The only sure stability is the fact that we are always moving.

So, what is this thing about constant movement? It’s the story of life’s rhythm. The Torah is telling us that the secret to mastering your life is by learning to navigate the waves and cycles.

The Ohr Hachaim, at the beginning of this week’s Torah portion, explains the universal application of the opening verse: “And Jacob left Beersheba and went toward Charan.” “Jacob left Beersheba” refers to the descent of each soul to Earth. First it leaves and descends from the “fountain of seven” (Beersheba), the seven emotional spheres in which the soul is rooted. From there it descends and enters the world of wrath (Charan).

In other words: Life itself – from its very beginning – is a journey. Its essential nature is one of movement and rhythm.

If life were perfect – which it is not, because what then would be its point? – one could argue that we would be able to remain standing statically still in one never changing place.

But we are not perfect. And besides, even true perfection is not static. Humans see perfection as a destination: we work toward achieving a goal, and when we reach that place, we can retire. True, Divine perfection is an ever evolving reality, constantly reinventing itself and seeking out new expressions in a never ending infinite journey into the… infinite.

Movement then, is in essence life’s greatest blessing. For two reasons: As long as we live in a broken world, where injustice and cruelty reign, the status quo is unhealthy. Movement is our only salvation. The soul’s restlessness is our healthiest response to a world that just doesn’t seem right.

But movement is not just about getting away from the unhealthy. The nature of healthy perfection is distinguishable by its mobility. To be alive is to be awake. Every live thing moves, our theologians teach us.

This is the story of rotzo and shuv – the inner rhythm that characterizes all life forces. Our breath and pulse express this flow on a microcosmic level. The same is true about all of existence, which, in the words of the mystics, is essentially cosmic breath, throbbing, pulsating energy.

This is the story of all the travels and travelers in the Torah. Jacob’s journey in particular, which embodies the soul’s journey to earth, captures the paradox. Jacob represents the ultimate harmony of tiferet, yet of all the Patriarchs he was the one that was displaced most of his life. Harmony is not a static, passive state. It is the ability to navigate the rough and unpredictable terrain. Though Jacob suffered in his life, he had this strength, and his journey infused his children with the ability to ride through every challenge they would face.

In our latest workshop one thing that struck me was that many of the participants identified the rhythm of tension and resolution with breakage and repair. I never quite thought of it this way. But in truth, the yearn and return of rotzo and shuv, the tension and resolution is a form of breaking and rebuilding.

When you are tense about something, your feelings should motivate you healthily to change your situation, to get away from the things that cause you anxiety. You “break” away from the past, and open yourself up to build a new future.

In search of identifying rotzo and shuv parallels, one of our friends presented an art form called pique assiette, in which shattered plates are used to create new images with the newly aligned broken pieces.

Kabbalistically speaking, the “shattering of the containers” (shevirat ha’keilim) in the primordial explosion in the world of Tohu (chaos), is a result of the disparity between the “containers” and “light.” One can say that this “shattering” is a form of “market correction.” Since existence is not in sync with its purpose, “shevirat ha’keilim” is the inevitable result of a misaligned world, with the objective of “tikkun,” to repair the fissure and reunite the “light” and the “containers,” spirit and matter.

The challenge is learning to dance – a dance to the true rhythms of life. Each of us has the rhythm within.

We are born with it. Observe the perfect rhythm of a breathing newborn. Seamlessness and innocence are the virtues of a child. But then our human experiences begin to disturb our rhythms. Like a stranger’s hand holding us down, our first disappointments, lies and deceptions throw our pendulum off course. As we are invalidated, abandoned and our dignity wounded, our outer selves become unsynchronized from our inner rhythm.

The rest of our lives we are in pursuit of discovering our seemingly lost balance and harmony. Every time we feel anxious we really are sensing that our outer clock is not in synch with our inner one. The next healthy step would be to synchronize the two.

The problem lies in the fact that we may not know the rhythm of our inner clocks. That’s why we need to observe and study the rhythms of rotzo and shuv in nature and science, in the arts and music, in business and finance, in every possible area of life. This allows us a backdrop – context with which to compare the misaligned rhythms in our psyches.

As we learn to train ourselves to see the rhythms all around us it gets increasingly easier to identify our own discrepancies.

Another good idea would be to monitor our own levels of tension and resolution. To facilitate this process, we created a “rotzo and shuv index” (don’t laugh, it actually works), which can help you determine your own levels, and then see what your cycles look like. If you would like to receive this index, please e-mail us, and we’ll be happy to send it to you, together with instructions on how to use it.

To be alive is to feel alive. What does “alive” feel like? It actually has no sensation. But one thing is for sure: Being alive is never static, never still, never inert. No one wants to see a flat line on a cardiogram G-d forbid. You want to see fluctuations, ebbs and flows – rotzo and shuv.

Fluidity, movement, mobility, flux – are all the vital signs of life. Don’t fight your restlessness; figure out how to dance the dance.