At least

In the first part of the month of Nissan it has become customary to recite the portions of the Torah which deal with the offerings of the Princes of the Twelve Tribes. The Prince for the 11th day of Nissan, the Rebbe's birthday, was from the tribe of Asher. The Medrash says that each tribe is named with the redemption and praise of Israel in mind. The Prince of Asher, Pagiel Ben Achran, brought his because of the Jew's choice of Hashem to be their L-rd, and Hashem's choice of the Jew's to be his special nation. The immediate question is that it's only possible to make a choice between two things which are either equal or at least comparable. Between Hashem and all other (false) gods, there can be no comparison, and the same goes for the Jew and the non-Jew, the reason for which you should consult Tanya, Chapter 49.

We can understand this by first prefacing with an explanation given by the Medrash of the verse, in Eicha 3,24, "Hashem is my portion' says my soul, 'therefore I have hope in Him". The Medrash says that this is like the parable of a king who comes to a country, surrounded by his many ministers, and the populace of the country come out to greet him. One person there says, "I choose this minister to represent and help me," while another picks one of the satraps to represent him, and a third man chooses one of the King's secretaries. There was one smart man present who said, "I choose the King, because all the others are temporary, but the King lasts forever." So too the nations of the world serve the sun, moon, stars, or constellations, but the Jewish people only serve Hashem. The question is, what's the genius involved in picking the King? Everyone knows a King is much greater than his servants. And what's the reason the wise man gives, that the King lasts forever? Even if the King is just as temporary as his ministers, he's still greater.

Back in the earliest generations people thought that it was necessary to serve false gods. Just like a person thanks and tips a waiter for bringing him food, even though the waiter obviously had no hand in the preparation of the food, one should thank the sun and the moon for giving him sustenance. The people thought that just like the waiter does have some choice whether to present the food or not, the moon and constellations have some say in the amount of G-dly sustenance they pass onto man. The mistake of these people, what they did not realize, was that the heavenly bodies are only like an axe in the hand of a woodchopper, a tool made by G-d and directed solely by Him. The early idolaters thought that they could influence the celestial bodies to give them more than they were supposed to get, like a waiter can be asked for more. An axe, on the other hand, is utterly powerless without a hand to wield it.

From this mistake came an even greater one, the belief that Hashem had left the world in the hands of his creations and therefore they were the be-all and end-all of divine service. People thought that this situation was comparable to a King who appoints a governor to rule over a province, leaving it entirely except in times of great need. So too people believed that Hashem had left the world in the hand of the constellations, intervening only when absolutely necessary.

Obviously this isn't true, and Hashem continues to sustain the world in exactly the same manner as when he first created it 5770 years ago. It takes the wisdom of the Jewish people to know this, and therefore they don't serve the false gods, who only appear to run things, but rather worship the one true G-d, the only being with any true power in the world.

This explanation, while good, is not the correct one. The parable presented by the Medrash features ministers who have free choice, and therefore choosing them does positively impact the benefit they give out. These ministers have the freedom to give those who ally themselves with the ministers more sustenance. We can therefore understand that service of the King itself, rather than the results it brings, is what the wise man seeks. From this we can understand in real life, that the reason the nations of the world worship the sun and stars is not because of their mistake, but because they would rather have physical benefits than serve G-d. Their choice does bring about actual benefit; there is in fact an advantage to worshiping the constellations. In general, there are two advantages to idol worship over G-d worship. The first is that the benefits provided by the idols are not dependent on self-nullification, which is a condition for receiving sustenance from Hashem. The second is that the benefit itself is greater than that received from choosing to benefit solely from the side of holiness.

In the desert the Israelites complained that they ate for free in Egypt; what they were saying is that their physical sustenance came without any corresponding spiritual struggle. The side of holiness only allows for benefit when the right thing is done, and even then it only gives according to a person's work. Kelipos get their life-force from a source above nature, where there are no barriers, and therefore they can provide virtually unlimited sustenance.

According to this explanation, the greatness of the Jew is that he declines to associate himself with the forces of darkness and instead chooses Hashem, even though this means he must work hard for less.

The wise man's reason for choosing the King and not the ministers is because the ministers are only temporary while the King lasts forever. What does this mean? The benefits which accrue to those who align themselves with the forces of darkness, even if these benefits are greater than those available to holiness seekers, are only temporary. After Moshiach comes, and evil ceases to exist, all the G-dly sparks which were contained within that evil will cease to exist. In addition, the benefits for those who choose the side of good will be much greater (after the coming of the Messiah) then ever went to evil-doers in the pre-Messianic age. This is expressed in the Talmudic saying, "If so much goes to those who go against His will, how much more will go to those who follow Him."

This explanation is not sufficient, however, because it implies that the only reason the wise man chooses the King is because he is smart and has figured out that with patience he'll have increased material or spiritual benefit. This is problematic, because the Medrash implies that the Jewish people choose their King because of their soul, because of the greatness of serving the King, not because of the material benefits associated with that service. Indeed, the Jew chooses Hashem because the great physical bounty which goes to the sinner is not given with Hashem's full will, as it were, but rather as a man throws a gift to his enemy behind his back, with disgust. Hashem gives the Jew because he wants to give the Jew, and the Jew takes this, because he wants to receive what Hashem desires to give. Also, the physical sustenance that goes to those who go against His will are not everlasting, and therefore they don't have a true existence even when they are present.

Where does the benefit which comes from the other side actually come from? It's siphoned of from Kedusha, from holiness, and this is the only way it exists. Since that Holiness with them is exiled, as it were, they (the Kelipos) are actually dead. The people who draw from them are also called dead, as it says in Talmud, that wicked men are called dead even while they're alive, because (as it says in Tanya) their life source is death. When a person chooses the King, he chooses life, not death, holiness, not impurity.

This explanation is still not sufficient, because at the end of the day the wise man is still making his choice based on his intellect, and the Medrash seems to be saying that his soul, which is above intellect, is making this choice. In short, the nature of man is to choose whichever path will bring him the most wealth, happiness, peace, or anything and everything good. This nature is what causes the nations of the world to worship their false gods, because they acknowledge only themselves, and therefore choose only that which benefits them. A Jew, on the other hand, because of his divine soul, is able to look beyond himself and choose to worship Hashem, even though he will get (at this point in time) less benefit, because G-dliness is truth, and his soul chooses to align itself with that truth.

What does it mean when we say that those who go against his will get their life force in a "backward" manner? We can understand this with a Mashal, a parable, of a King who makes a great feast for his ministers and honored servants. From the overflow of food from the King's table his lowly servants and maids, and even the dogs, are also able to eat. The King did not make the food for them, but they are able to survive from his bounty.

There are four levels in the mashal, and all of them are meaningful. The lowest, the dog, survives off the bones that are thrown off the table. He doesn't serve the King; rather his whole purpose in life is self-gratification. We can see this from the word for dog in Hebrew, Kalev, a contraction for Kulo Lev, or "All Heart". The human being represented by the dog is fundamentally flawed, because naturally, a person's heart is ruled by their mind. In this person though, not only does the heart rule the mind, but there is no mind. Sure, the dog gets everything it wants, and much more, but it's all left-overs, not given with the King's desire.

The next level of person is the lowly servant or maidservant, who serve the King because of their fear of punishment, not because they want to. Their sole desire in life is to escape work, to be free to waste their time. Because of this, their place is not at the King's table, because they do not wish to be there. The honored servants, on the other hand, serve the King because they understand how great such service is. Sure, they're doing it because they accept the King as their master, but at the same time they understand how great it is to serve such a man. The greatest level is that of the ministers, whose understanding of the King is so great that they manage many of his affairs. They don't serve the King out of fear, but rather out of love. Among them there are obviously many levels, with different responsibilities assigned to different men.

In the analog, the lowly servants represent the seventy guardian angels of the seventy nations, while the servants and ministers that the King serves at his table are holy angels who do G-d's will, the highest emanations of holiness, who are always with the King.

We can now understand the greatness of the Jewish people. That they don't want to receive anything like dogs or servants is easily understood, but their refusal to deal with anyone but the King, in place of his highest and most trust-worthy ministers, is admirable. This is comparable to a person who visits a King, and passes through chamber after chamber, each filled with more treasure than the previous one, until he gets to the last chamber, which is more incredible than anything any man has ever imagined. Many people will stop at this last chamber, because they're filled with awe; only the true wise man will pass by and go to meet the King, because only the true wise man is filled with the desire to see not the king's wealth but rather the King himself.

This is what the Alter Rebbe said, "I don't want your Garden of Eden, I don't want your World to Come, I want you alone." The Alter Rebbe certainly knew how great these levels were, and in fact he had a greater knowledge of them than most people. And the highest levels don't hide G-d, rather they transmit his rays. And yet he only wants Hashem. This is why the Alter Rebbe specifically said, "Your Garden of Eden, Your World to Come", because even though they are Hashem's, he still wants only Hashem.

These two explanations of "I choose the King", that a person doesn't want even the highest spiritual emanations, but only G-d himself, and the simple meaning, that a person only serves Hashem and not idols, have a connection. The Garden of Eden is great, because it's an incredible spiritual experience, where the souls bask in the rays of divine glory. When Hashem himself is chosen though, it leads to complete nullification. If a person makes a mistake and chooses to bask, choosing pleasure in front of truth, then it can lead to a person choosing to worship false gods. He might even come to that these false gods have free choice. Idol worshipers thought that there was something to be gained from serving the sun and stars; choosing anything but Hashem, even his greatest spiritual worlds, is the same thing.

Even is someone wants the Garden of Eden specifically because it's Hashem's, there is a problem, because he can come to think that Hashem gave it, or anything in the world, power to choose who to help, as was explained above. A Jew has to know that everything in the world comes only from Hashem.

The main mistake people make in serving idols is that they confuse something which is only a tool for the master. The sun and moon provide benefit for the world, but they have no choice in the matter. The benefit gotten is also mistaken. The physical world is not an ends, but rather only a means with which to serve Hashem. That's why some people choose to worship false gods, because they think that physicality is primary, and therefore they spend their lives trying to accumulate as much of it as possible. The same thing is worth the highest spiritual worlds; they too are only a means to an end, and choosing them is the first step on a slippery path to idol worship.

The source of gentiles is in the "outer will"; they only exist for another reason. They don't realize this, and think that they are the reason for existence, and from this comes the thought that whatever brings the most physical benefit also has the free choice to dispense that benefit. Jews, on the other hand, are the primary purpose of creation, and they therefore recognize that they should serve the primary, Hashem.

The Jewish people serve Hashem because of their souls and because of their intellect. The soul sees that it's source is in the inner will, that it is the purpose for which the world was created, and that affects the brain, that it too should be able to understand. From the intellect the choice in Hashem will permeate every thought, word, and action, causing a Jew to truly be a G-dly person.

King David asks Hashem in Psalm 70 to remember him. This can be explained with a parable. There was once a King who got angry at his flock of sheep and sent them away. At the same time he destroyed their enclosure and fired the shepherd. Later the King was reconciled toward his sheep, and brought them back. He also rebuilt their home. The shepherd wondered what was going on, and asked the King, "Why haven't you rehired me?" So too David asks Hashem, from the end of Psalm 69, "You have remembered Zion and and rebuilt Judah (end of the aforementioned Psalm 69), but I have not been brought back?" Therefore David asks Hashem at the beginning of Psalm 70 to be remembered. The question is, if the King remembered the sheep, why didn't he remember their shepherd? The answer is that a person can have everything but still lack the main thing, which is a revelation of G-d. The purpose of the King is to teach Torah, and since the Torah as we have it now is nothing compared to the Torah of Moshiach, David asks Hashem to let him shepherd the Jews in this infinitely higher way.

Now we can explain the Jew's choice of Hashem and Hashem's choice of the Jews. Hashem chooses the Jews because they are the purpose of creation, and this leads to the Jews choosing Hashem, because they recognize the truth. A Jew wants Hashem, to the exclusion of all else. Whatever Hashem wants, the Jew also wants. Since the whole purpose of creation is to make a dwelling place down here for Hashem, that is also the Jew's goal. Hashem gives physicality, and the Jew turns it into spirituality, and this will be fulfilled with the coming of Moshiach, speedily in our days, Amen.

11 Nissan approaches

In what is quickly becoming a yearly tradition here at TRS, I now present to you the complete B'yom Ashtei Assar 5731. It's been edited, and I took out many of the snarky comments, which should make for easier reading. Enjoy.

In the first part of the month of Nissan it has become customary to recite the portions of the Torah which deal with the offerings of the Princes of the Twelve Tribes. The Prince for the 11th day of Nissan, the Rebbe's birthday, was from the tribe of Asher. The Medrash says that each tribe is named with the redemption and praise of Israel in mind. The Prince of Asher, Pagiel Ben Achran, brought his because of the Jew's choice of Hashem to be their L-rd, and Hashem's choice of the Jew's to be his special nation. The immediate question is that it's only possible to make a choice between two things which are either equal or at least comparable. Between Hashem and all other (false) gods, there can be no comparison, and the same goes for the Jew and the non-Jew, the reason for which you should consult Tanya, Chapter 49.

We can understand this by first prefacing with an explanation given by the Medrash of the verse, in Eicha 3,24, "Hashem is my portion' says my soul, 'therefore I have hope in Him". The Medrash says that this is like the parable of a king who comes to a country, surrounded by his many ministers, and the populace of the country come out to greet him. One person there says, "I choose this minister to represent and help me," while another picks one of the satraps to represent him, and a third man chooses one of the King's secretaries. There was one smart man present who said, "I choose the King, because all the others are temporary, but the King lasts forever." So too the nations of the world serve the sun, moon, stars, or constellations, but the Jewish people only serve Hashem. The question is, what's the genius involved in picking the King? Everyone knows a King is much greater than his servants. And what's the reason the wise man gives, that the King lasts forever? Even if the King is just as temporary as his ministers, he's still greater.

Back in the earliest generations people thought that it was necessary to serve false gods. Just like a person thanks and tips a waiter for bringing him food, even though the waiter obviously had no hand in the preparation of the food, one should thank the sun and the moon for giving him sustenance. The people thought that just like the waiter does have some choice whether to present the food or not, the moon and constellations have some say in the amount of G-dly sustenance they pass onto man. The mistake of these people, what they did not realize, was that the heavenly bodies are only like an axe in the hand of a woodchopper, a tool made by G-d and directed solely by Him. The early idolaters thought that they could influence the celestial bodies to give them more than they were supposed to get, like a waiter can be asked for more. An axe, on the other hand, is utterly powerless without a hand to wield it.

From this mistake came an even greater one, the belief that Hashem had left the world in the hands of his creations and therefore they were the be-all and end-all of divine service. People thought that this situation was comparable to a King who appoints a governor to rule over a province, leaving it entirely except in times of great need. So too people believed that Hashem had left the world in the hand of the constellations, intervening only when absolutely necessary.

Obviously this isn't true, and Hashem continues to sustain the world in exactly the same manner as when he first created it 5770 years ago. It takes the wisdom of the Jewish people to know this, and therefore they don't serve the false gods, who only appear to run things, but rather worship the one true G-d, the only being with any true power in the world.

This explanation, while good, is not the correct one. The parable presented by the Medrash features ministers who have free choice, and therefore choosing them does positively impact the benefit they give out. These ministers have the freedom to give those who ally themselves with the ministers more sustenance. We can therefore understand that service of the King itself, rather than the results it brings, is what the wise man seeks. From this we can understand in real life, that the reason the nations of the world worship the sun and stars is not because of their mistake, but because they would rather have physical benefits than serve G-d. Their choice does bring about actual benefit; there is in fact an advantage to worshiping the constellations. In general, there are two advantages to idol worship over G-d worship. The first is that the benefits provided by the idols are not dependent on self-nullification, which is a condition for receiving sustenance from Hashem. The second is that the benefit itself is greater than that received from choosing to benefit solely from the side of holiness.

In the desert the Israelites complained that they ate for free in Egypt; what they were saying is that their physical sustenance came without any corresponding spiritual struggle. The side of holiness only allows for benefit when the right thing is done, and even then it only gives according to a person's work. Kelipos get their life-force from a source above nature, where there are no barriers, and therefore they can provide virtually unlimited sustenance.

According to this explanation, the greatness of the Jew is that he declines to associate himself with the forces of darkness and instead chooses Hashem, even though this means he must work hard for less.

The wise man's reason for choosing the King and not the ministers is because the ministers are only temporary while the King lasts forever. What does this mean? The benefits which accrue to those who align themselves with the forces of darkness, even if these benefits are greater than those available to holiness seekers, are only temporary. After Moshiach comes, and evil ceases to exist, all the G-dly sparks which were contained within that evil will cease to exist. In addition, the benefits for those who choose the side of good will be much greater (after the coming of the Messiah) then ever went to evil-doers in the pre-Messianic age. This is expressed in the Talmudic saying, "If so much goes to those who go against His will, how much more will go to those who follow Him."

This explanation is not sufficient, however, because it implies that the only reason the wise man chooses the King is because he is smart and has figured out that with patience he'll have increased material or spiritual benefit. This is problematic, because the Medrash implies that the Jewish people choose their King because of their soul, because of the greatness of serving the King, not because of the material benefits associated with that service. Indeed, the Jew chooses Hashem because the great physical bounty which goes to the sinner is not given with Hashem's full will, as it were, but rather as a man throws a gift to his enemy behind his back, with disgust. Hashem gives the Jew because he wants to give the Jew, and the Jew takes this, because he wants to receive what Hashem desires to give. Also, the physical sustenance that goes to those who go against His will are not everlasting, and therefore they don't have a true existence even when they are present.

Where does the benefit which comes from the other side actually come from? It's siphoned of from Kedusha, from holiness, and this is the only way it exists. Since that Holiness with them is exiled, as it were, they (the Kelipos) are actually dead. The people who draw from them are also called dead, as it says in Talmud, that wicked men are called dead even while they're alive, because (as it says in Tanya) their life source is death. When a person chooses the King, he chooses life, not death, holiness, not impurity.

This explanation is still not sufficient, because at the end of the day the wise man is still making his choice based on his intellect, and the Medrash seems to be saying that his soul, which is above intellect, is making this choice. In short, the nature of man is to choose whichever path will bring him the most wealth, happiness, peace, or anything and everything good. This nature is what causes the nations of the world to worship their false gods, because they acknowledge only themselves, and therefore choose only that which benefits them. A Jew, on the other hand, because of his divine soul, is able to look beyond himself and choose to worship Hashem, even though he will get (at this point in time) less benefit, because G-dliness is truth, and his soul chooses to align itself with that truth.

What does it mean when we say that those who go against his will get their life force in a "backward" manner? We can understand this with a Mashal, a parable, of a King who makes a great feast for his ministers and honored servants. From the overflow of food from the King's table his lowly servants and maids, and even the dogs, are also able to eat. The King did not make the food for them, but they are able to survive from his bounty.

There are four levels in the mashal, and all of them are meaningful. The lowest, the dog, survives off the bones that are thrown off the table. He doesn't serve the King; rather his whole purpose in life is self-gratification. We can see this from the word for dog in Hebrew, Kalev, a contraction for Kulo Lev, or "All Heart". The human being represented by the dog is fundamentally flawed, because naturally, a person's heart is ruled by their mind. In this person though, not only does the heart rule the mind, but there is no mind. Sure, the dog gets everything it wants, and much more, but it's all left-overs, not given with the King's desire.

The next level of person is the lowly servant or maidservant, who serve the King because of their fear of punishment, not because they want to. Their sole desire in life is to escape work, to be free to waste their time. Because of this, their place is not at the King's table, because they do not wish to be there. The honored servants, on the other hand, serve the King because they understand how great such service is. Sure, they're doing it because they accept the King as their master, but at the same time they understand how great it is to serve such a man. The greatest level is that of the ministers, whose understanding of the King is so great that they manage many of his affairs. They don't serve the King out of fear, but rather out of love. Among them there are obviously many levels, with different responsibilities assigned to different men.

In the analog, the lowly servants represent the seventy guardian angels of the seventy nations, while the servants and ministers that the King serves at his table are holy angels who do G-d's will, the highest emanations of holiness, who are always with the King.

We can now understand the greatness of the Jewish people. That they don't want to receive anything like dogs or servants is easily understood, but their refusal to deal with anyone but the King, in place of his highest and most trust-worthy ministers, is admirable. This is comparable to a person who visits a King, and passes through chamber after chamber, each filled with more treasure than the previous one, until he gets to the last chamber, which is more incredible than anything any man has ever imagined. Many people will stop at this last chamber, because they're filled with awe; only the true wise man will pass by and go to meet the King, because only the true wise man is filled with the desire to see not the king's wealth but rather the King himself.

This is what the Alter Rebbe said, "I don't want your Garden of Eden, I don't want your World to Come, I want you alone." The Alter Rebbe certainly knew how great these levels were, and in fact he had a greater knowledge of them than most people. And the highest levels don't hide G-d, rather they transmit his rays. And yet he only wants Hashem. This is why the Alter Rebbe specifically said, "Your Garden of Eden, Your World to Come", because even though they are Hashem's, he still wants only Hashem.

These two explanations of "I choose the King", that a person doesn't want even the highest spiritual emanations, but only G-d himself, and the simple meaning, that a person only serves Hashem and not idols, have a connection. The Garden of Eden is great, because it's an incredible spiritual experience, where the souls bask in the rays of divine glory. When Hashem himself is chosen though, it leads to complete nullification. If a person makes a mistake and chooses to bask, choosing pleasure in front of truth, then it can lead to a person choosing to worship false gods. He might even come to that these false gods have free choice. Idol worshipers thought that there was something to be gained from serving the sun and stars; choosing anything but Hashem, even his greatest spiritual worlds, is the same thing.

Even is someone wants the Garden of Eden specifically because it's Hashem's, there is a problem, because he can come to think that Hashem gave it, or anything in the world, power to choose who to help, as was explained above. A Jew has to know that everything in the world comes only from Hashem.

The main mistake people make in serving idols is that they confuse something which is only a tool for the master. The sun and moon provide benefit for the world, but they have no choice in the matter. The benefit gotten is also mistaken. The physical world is not an ends, but rather only a means with which to serve Hashem. That's why some people choose to worship false gods, because they think that physicality is primary, and therefore they spend their lives trying to accumulate as much of it as possible. The same thing is worth the highest spiritual worlds; they too are only a means to an end, and choosing them is the first step on a slippery path to idol worship.

The source of gentiles is in the "outer will"; they only exist for another reason. They don't realize this, and think that they are the reason for existence, and from this comes the thought that whatever brings the most physical benefit also has the free choice to dispense that benefit. Jews, on the other hand, are the primary purpose of creation, and they therefore recognize that they should serve the primary, Hashem.

The Jewish people serve Hashem because of their souls and because of their intellect. The soul sees that it's source is in the inner will, that it is the purpose for which the world was created, and that affects the brain, that it too should be able to understand. From the intellect the choice in Hashem will permeate every thought, word, and action, causing a Jew to truly be a G-dly person.

King David asks Hashem in Psalm 70 to remember him. This can be explained with a parable. There was once a King who got angry at his flock of sheep and sent them away. At the same time he destroyed their enclosure and fired the shepherd. Later the King was reconciled toward his sheep, and brought them back. He also rebuilt their home. The shepherd wondered what was going on, and asked the King, "Why haven't you rehired me?" So too David asks Hashem, from the end of Psalm 69, "You have remembered Zion and and rebuilt Judah (end of the aforementioned Psalm 69), but I have not been brought back?" Therefore David asks Hashem at the beginning of Psalm 70 to be remembered. The question is, if the King remembered the sheep, why didn't he remember their shepherd? The answer is that a person can have everything but still lack the main thing, which is a revelation of G-d. The purpose of the King is to teach Torah, and since the Torah as we have it now is nothing compared to the Torah of Moshiach, David asks Hashem to let him shepherd the Jews in this infinitely higher way.

Now we can explain the Jew's choice of Hashem and Hashem's choice of the Jews. Hashem chooses the Jews because they are the purpose of creation, and this leads to the Jews choosing Hashem, because they recognize the truth. A Jew wants Hashem, to the exclusion of all else. Whatever Hashem wants, the Jew also wants. Since the whole purpose of creation is to make a dwelling place down here for Hashem, that is also the Jew's goal. Hashem gives physicality, and the Jew turns it into spirituality, and this will be fulfilled with the coming of Moshiach, speedily in our days, Amen.

Almost like a jelly doughnut

Tomorrow night is Chanuka, and in honor of that I made a new label, "Chanuka", which contains much Festival-of-Lights-Goodness. Here's an excerpt from some of those posts, containing a newly freshened-up bit about my favorite Maamar of all time, Al Hanisim '29:

There are two main points of this maamar. The first is an explanation of the war between the assimilated Jew peoples and the faithful-to-their-father-in-heaven peoples. What was the root of their argument? The Greekifieds refused to accept the existence of G-d. Simple, no? You would think that things would've change in the last two thousand plus years, but I suppose that wise King Solomon was correct when he asserted that, "There is nothing new under the sun." The Greeks asserted the primacy of reason, as does our culture. If they didn't understand it, well, obviously it couldn't exist. And even the particularly enlightened ones, who acknowledged that reason is not the be all and end all of human existence, refused to accept a higher power. Even when they acknowledged that they didn't know everything, and even more so, that it is impossible to know everything, that intellect and logic can't explain all there is, they still refused to accept a higher power. Why? Presumably because they were having too much fun attending toga parties. But seriously, they had major issues with Kabbalos Ol. They couldn't accept anyone telling them what to do without a good reason. If they had known there was a good reason, just they couldn't understand it, that would have been ok, but for there to be no reason? This they couldn't accept.

So what is the way to fight this invidious form of human behavior? There's only one way: with Mesiras Nefesh. And that doesn't mean giving your life up either. It can also mean deciding to say Tehillim after Davening instead of running to breakfast and getting runny egg yolk from sunny side up eggs all over your freshly laundered shirt. Which happened anyway, as it turned out, but I suppose that's one of the reasons for sweaters.

Mesiras Nefesh means that you have to do something which is crazy, to tap into your internal soul-powers, to go beyond intellect. That's really the whole point, isn't it? To do something that makes no sense. Not to you, and not to your mother either.


The second part of the Maamar deals with a mystical explanation of the advantages of the horn, getting into a whole thing about Dovid and Shlomo vs. Shaul.

Also, a big Mazal Tov to Shmuelie Schapiro, brother of our great leader, who was not only in smicha last year in Motown but also came to the TRS+le7 wedding! At the lchaim I thanked him for getting engaged to a Crown Heightser so that I could repay the favor easily, and he said, "Repay the favor? It was worth every penny!" I thought that was very sweet.

Boy Lala!

Today I started learning about Chanuka. You ask why? That's a perfectly legitimate question. After all, the holiday doesn't begin for many moons. But you know what? My favorite Maamarim are those on Chanuka, because they deal with essential issues of Judaism. You're right, all Maamarim deal with essential issues of Judaism. So what's your point?

So today's Maamar, V'al Hanisim 1969, deals with the essential conflict between the Assyrian-Greek hordes and the tiny band of brothers who we know today as the Maccabees. Back then they knew 'em as the Hammers. Sort of like a basketball team, just without a very deep bench. (Was that analogy forced? You betcha). So what was the fight about? G-d, of course. The Assyrian-Greek hordes (from now on known as, well, whatever I call them) didn't particularly like G-d very much. They didn't mind if you kept the Torah; that's a beautiful thing. Even the Mitzvos which man can't understand they were fine with, because after all, intellect is infinite (or so they thought), so there must be a reason somewhere. But to follow the Torah because G-d said to? Heresy! And then they went around killing Jews. How typical, eh? If every anti-semite went around slaughtering Jews, where would we be?

As usual, I could go much deeper into this topic, but then your eyes would glaze over your brain would go to sleep, and I'd be stuck preaching to myself. So instead I'll just repeat that forever I am yours. Or something very much like that.

Meanwhile, in other news, now that you've obviously read this whole post, you should know that of course it's ancient (though edited), and that there's a new HH up. Enjoy.

Dr. Heckle and Mr. Jide

Bringing back the good old days when I had time to learn chassidus in the middle of the day... here's a post, originally entitled The veins which deals with some chassidic topics. It's been a long time since October 24, 2007. Yup.

Back to the original topic,(how difficult it is not to tangentalise [Google doesn't like this word])I was affected by a recent Maamar that I just completed. The Yetzer Hora, the evil inclination, the angel of death (as the Talmud says) is intent on causing the downfall of man, leading him from the trodden path of Torah and good deeds, and bringing him into the ditch of iniquity, sin, and eventually death, whether spiritual or physical (which is why they call him the angel of death). Now this inclination dude is variously described as being a doddering old king, and sometimes a brilliant young nuclear physicist at Lawrence Livermore National Library who somehow got mixed up with the young crowd, irradiated himself with (what else?) nuclear radiation, and is now The Yetzer Hora. Regardless, he has two ways of causing man to sin. The first, which is superior, is when the guy sins, and feels incredibly guilty, repents, and leads an irreproachable life for the rest of his days. How beautiful.

Alternatively, the Yetzer Hora convinces man that what he's doing is really fine, and then there's no knowing what will occur. "Hey," our local friendly sinner says, "not only am I your local friendly sinner, but I'm not sinning! I have an excuse for everything!" This guy is basically all of us.

The solution? Get a spiritual adviser, or start gaining girth. Nothing like chocolate-chip cookies to increase spiritually and physically, right? Of course, I'm only kidding. About one of these two options anyway. As Fox says, you decide.

Oh, and by the way, do to the insistence of the almighty editor, the source for all the above genius is a Sefer called Kuntreisim Aleph, Maamar Ki Karov, by the Previous Lubavitcher Rebbe. He says thank you.

Work will make you more free!

Tonight I'm in Crown Heights for Shmuelie Raitman's Lchaim (he was my shliach in YOEC) and I'm too tired to write anything new and exciting, so here's a nice rehash from November 1, 2007, edited for clarity and whatnot. Enjoy.

The maamar I chose, totally at random, was "And Israel said to Joseph", said in Weisbaden by the Rebbe Rashab in 1911. This Maamar was (is) so cool that I figured I had to share it with you, so I will.

What is the difference between Shabbos and the rest of the week? On Shabbos we rest, while during the week we work. Or at least some of us do. Anyway, the spiritual difference is in how the G-dly soul is enclothed in the animal soul. See, there are two ways. The first is when the G-dly soul totally dominates, and the animal in all of us is totally nullified. So that's pretty cool, and it's what happens on Shabbos, and for Tzaddikim, all the time. Have you ever noticed how everything looks better on Shabbos, the food tastes better, people are nicer, your favorite sports teams win (unless of course someone else's favorite teams win), even the grass is greener (on your side)? This is all because the G-dly soul is dominating.

And on the weekday? Sure, the G-dly soul is enclothed in the animal one, but now it's not dominating at all. In fact, it's in exile. But it still retains some power, and let's say it causes the animal soul to learn a little, or to do a Mitzva. Then the animal soul becomes nullified on its own, because it understands how great G-d is, and it wants to participate. Isn't that beautiful? Ah, but like everything in life there's a caveat: two people can hear the same exact thing, but one of them gets it, and feels the almighty L-rd, and the other doesn't, so he just feels his own gross temporal existence. And this means that even the guy who gets it doesn't really get it, because he still feels himself, because he isn't nullified.

So what's the point of all this? Why not just have Shabbos all the time? In fact, when Moshaich comes, every day will be like Shabbos, in the sense that the G-dly soul will transform the animal soul, making it a partner in the fight for good and justice. Or something like that. But again, why not now? Why the long wait? Firstly, I have no idea. And secondly, man's whole purpose in this vale of tears is to transform this valley in the shadow of death into a place where you'll be happy to bring your kids up. That is of course if you have kids.

And how do we transform this world into a great place? By working hard. Through our struggle we can change the world.

Now, wasn't all the above inspiring? But it taught me at least one thing; that unless you get it you'll get nowhere, and the only way to get it is to try and get it. Deep, eh?

Rainy Days

You know what rain does to the iPod Touch? Not good things. Here's a pre-made maamar instead, originally published on November 12, 2007, entitled Here's your religion. Enjoy.

All righty then, here's your daily religious dose. It's from a Maamar that was said by the Rebbe Rashab in 1898. Basically, the Yetzer Hora is not essentially bad. The reason we know this is because before the first sin (the one with the tree) man was created with two drives, one towards Chessed, kindness, and one towards Gevurah, strictness. Neither of these is necessarily bad. What happened with the sin was that Adam used too much Gevurah when he prohibited his wife Chavah from even touching the tree, therefore causing Gevurah to fall down much farther than Chessed. So the drive towards Gevurah became the drive towards sin. But even this is not a constant; after all, it is possible that a surfeit of love can cause bad. We can see this from the case of a child who cries for a knife. A person who gives it is doing it out of love, after all, the child is crying for it! Nevertheless, obviously it's a bad thing. So we can see that Gevurah is not necessarily bad, nor Chessed necessarily good. Just that normally from Gevurah comes bad. When Moshiach comes the truth will be revealed, that Gevurah is really good. Because remember, strictness is not bad.

Anyway, for a little humor, there was once a haberdasher who had a minister walk into his business. The clothes-seller was so honored that a minister should come to his store that he gave the guy a free suit. A week later the minister sent a bible as a thank you. A month later a priest came in, and the same thing, except that the priest sent a beautiful gold cross. A month later a Rabbi walks in, and the same thing happens. And the gift? A week after the Rabbi gets his suit, another Rabbi walks in.

OK, so it's cute. Deal with it.

There and back: A wet journey

Today's HaYom Yom, as graciously provided by Chabad.org, says the following:

Our teacher the Baal Shem Tov said: Every single thing one sees or hears is an instruction for his conduct in the service of G-d. This is the idea of avoda, service, to comprehend and discern in all things a way in which to serve G-d.

This idea was really brought home this morning when I came to my ride rendezvous location place twelve minutes early, and waited 27 minutes, and then found out my ride left three minutes before I arrived. Gee, thanks for telling me. Then I went to 770, and after praying the Shacharis services with joy and verve I took a nap on a bench for an hour while waiting for another ride. Note to self: Next time, don't sleep right next to where the congregational responses will be being responded-it's not conducive to sleeping.

So there I was, standing in the rain, and I find out that there's no room for me in the car. Gee, thanks for picking up your phone an hour and a half ago so I could have taken a train back to Morristown. At this point though, it wasn't even worth it, because by the time I'd have gotten to the Rabbinical College of America I would have missed shiur, which was the only reason to go. So instead I just trudged back to my dear sis's in the rain and went to sleep on a couch for three hours.

So what's the lesson I learned out of all of this in my service of the good G-d? I'm not sure if I have learned one yet. Sure, it was frustrating for about three minutes, but I got over it pretty quickly. There's more important things in life. Still though, I rather doubt that this is what I was supposed to learn today. Oh well, maybe I'll find out, maybe I won't.

Wake up

Have you ever felt an overwhelming sense of deja vu? Or maybe it's just because it's raining, and it's much easier to simply post what was once posted, without comment, then to write something anew, awet. Whatever the case may be, here's an encore performance entitled Typical Lubavitch shtuff, originally published Monday, January 28, 2008.

Whenever a topic doesn't immediately suggest itself I try to remember something interesting that I learned recently. Today is one of those days. How about some Gemara? That's usually exciting. My thanks to Mesorah Publications/Artscroll for (presumably) not reading this blog and suing me for copyright infringement. I do recall a Halacha (law) that allows a person to ignore warnings such as the one reproduced in the beginning of the volume if by doing so a person will be spreading the light of Torah throughout the world, and possibly to California as well. Anyway, you're supposed to have Mesiras Nefesh to teach Torah, right? It's like the verse says, "Even if Nosson Scherman doth commence litigation, I shall not tarry." Or something like that.

The Gemara in Berachos, 3a, quotes a teaching of Rav, and I'll quote it too. "Rav Yitzchak bar Shmuel said in the name of Rav: The night consists of three watches, and at each and every watch the Holy One, Blessed is He, sits and roars like a lion and says: Woe to the children because of whose sins I destroyed My Temple, and burned My Sanctuary, and exiled them among the nations of the world.

I learned a Maamar with my dear friend and fellow Shliach YYXPS (Yosef Yitzchak Shusterman) that deals with exile (B'laila Hahu 1968). Back in the day I learned in Rabbi Nachman Wilhelm's Yeshiva, and he used to like saying a certain thing that I'll now relay over to you, my devoted (and apparently patronized) followers. Don't worry, this all connects in the end. At the beginning of Psalm 126 we say, "Shir Hamaalos B'shuv Hashem Es Shivas Tzion Hayinu K'cholmim, which literally translates, "A song of ascents, when Hashem will return the captivity of Zion, we will be like dreamers" (Again, thanks to out friends at Artscroll).

There are many different explanations of this verse, and this is Rabbi Wilhelm's: when Moshiach comes we will look back on exile and see it as if it was a dream. As the Maamar says (see? I told you I'd tie it all in), many strange things can happen in a dream. An elephant can walk through the eye of a needle. An airplane can eat chicken. A chicken can eat an airplane. Heck, the eye of a needle could even walk through an elephant. A dream is not merely something which makes no sense; it is something which made sense at one point, during the dream, and now is incomprehensible. Our lives make sense, but only because we haven't yet woken up. Once we wake up, with the coming of the Messiah, we will realize how everything we experienced in exile really made no sense. Hey, most of it barely makes sense anyway.

It's a nice vort, no?

Getting back to the Gemara, we see that Hashem waits for us to come back to him. So why don't we start listening, and end this bad dream?

(If I was in a different mood, I'd savage this pretentious post with a quickness reminiscent of the late great Karl Retburg's famous impression of tortoises on steroids in January. In the snow. Yeah.)

More old, still good

Continuing in last night's vein of posting oldies but goodies that no one ever bothered commenting on... I present to you Fraughts of the evening, originally published on May 9, 2008.

Last night I decided to write The Great American Novel. One of the problems with this plan is that half the book will be explaining Jewish concepts and words. The other problem is that I have a hard time fleshing out ideas. To come up with something brilliant is easy; making it work is the hard part.

Obviously, the book will be half memoir, half novel, and a quarter over-written. The critics will love it, because it'll be ethnic, soul searching, and my first book. The second will of course be widely panned, discovered seven years later, and made into a badly-directed film starring people in the twilight of their immature careers. I'll become a literary critic, living on the fringes of high society, producing books which are decidedly not The Next Great American Novel but are good enough to put bread on my grand-children's table.

Sound like a plan? Anyone know any literary agents who can get me a nice advance? Tremendous.

Moving right along, I learned a Maamar (Emor 1984) this morning that brought back memories of the Rosh's speeches. After Pesach, Shabbbos afternoons are long, and the Rosh gives a Pirkos Shiur diatribe. His favorite topic is Elazar Ben Dodarya, but I won't quite get into that now. The basic point though is Teshuva, that elusive not exactly repentance/kind-of return type thing that Jews like to talk about so much, possibly because we're all so bad at it.
In Pirkei Avos this week we learn that Reb Yehuda Hanassi, compiler (and possibly writer [depending on who you ask]) of the Mishna. He says, "Which is the right path for man to choose? Whichever is for himself and for mankind." This saying seems to imply that while this path is good, there are others which are equally valid. And in fact that's the case. There are two paths for a Jew, that of the Tzaddik and that of the Baal-Teshuva. Hashem wants us all to be Tzaddikim, perfectly righteous people without a sin to blemish the pure white linen that is our souls. Unfortunately, people seem to enjoy spilling all sorts of shtuff on that pure white linen, which makes it very dirty and not so white anymore linen. The answer at that point? Bleach. And because heavenly bleach is of a slightly higher quality than that enjoyed by temporal types, the pure white linen that makes its way out of the laundering process is even whiter and more pure than it originally was. So when a person sins, he is in fact doing a good thing.

At this point I expect that everyone reading this will be doing one of two things. They will either be commenting or sinning furiously. I'd therefore like to add a small caveat to my previous statements. The only people who are entitled to view sinning as a good thing are those who have no connection to it, meaning that the temporal types I earlier referenced are out of the equation. Basically, the only being who's entitled to view your sins as merits is G-d. Sorry.
When a human being sins, he's not doing it to become closer to G-d. He's doing it to satisfy the animal lusts which course through his veins and look suspiciously like cholesterol. So when that heavenly bleach is applied, it's going to hurt. This is not a punishment though, it's a cleansing process. And when the person cries bitter tears for the separation between himself and his G-d, he is also cleansed.

As Reb Yehuda Hanassi says though, there is a much easier path. Just do good, avoid wrong, and everyone will be happy.

And on the eleventh day...

In the first part of the month of Nissan it has become customary to recite the portions of the Torah which deal with the offerings of the Princes of the Twelve Tribes. The Prince for the 11th day of Nissan, the Rebbe's birthday, was from the tribe of Asher. The Medrash says that each tribe is named with the redemption and praise of Israel in mind. The Prince of Asher, Pagiel Ben Achran, brought his because of the Jew's choice of Hashem to be their L-rd, and Hashem's choice of the Jew's to be his special nation. The immediate question is that it's only possible to make a choice between two things which are either equal or at least comparable. Between Hashem and all other (false) gods, there can be no comparison, and the same goes for the Jew and the non-Jew, the reason for which you should consult Tanya, Chapter 49.

We can understand this by first prefacing with an explanation given by the Medrash on the verse, in Eicha 3, 24, "Hashem is my portion' says my soul, 'therefore I have hope in Him". The Medrash says that this is like the parable of a king who comes to a country, surrounded by his many ministers, and the populace of the country come out to greet him. One person there says, "I choose this minister to represent and help me," while another picks one of the satraps. A third man chooses one of the King's secretaries. There was one smart man present who said, "I choose the King, because all the others are temporary, but the King lasts forever." So too the nations of the world serve the sun, moon, stars, or constellations, but the Jewish people only serve Hashem. The question is, what's the genius involved in picking the King? Everyone knows a King is much greater than his employees. And what's the reason the wise man gives, that the King lasts forever? Even if the King is just as temporary as his ministers, he's still greater.

Back in the earliest generations, when man first began to serve false gods, the feeling was that it was necessary. Just like a person thanks and tips a waiter for bringing him food, even though the waiter obviously had no hand in the preparation of the food, one should thank the sun and the moon for giving him sustenance. The people thought that just like the waiter does have some choice whether to present the food or not (and after all, he could have spit in it), the moon and constellations have some say in the amount of G-dly sustenance they pass onto man. The mistake of these people was that they didn't realize that the heavenly bodies are only like an axe in the hand of a wood chopper, a tool made by G-d and directed solely by Him. The early idolaters thought that they could influence the celestial bodies to give them more than they were supposed to get.

From this mistake came an even greater one, the belief that Hashem had left the world in the hands of his creations and therefore they were the be-all and end-all of divine service. They thought that this situation was comparable to a King who appoints a governor to rule over a province, leaving it entirely except in times of great need.

Obviously this isn't true, and Hashem continues to sustain the world in exactly the same manner as when he first created it 5769 years ago. It takes the wisdom of the Jewish people to know this, and therefore they don't serve the false gods, who only appear to run things, but rather worship the one true G-d.

There is only one problem with this explanation. The parable presented by the Medrash features ministers who have free choice, and therefore choosing them does positively impact the benefit they give out. We can therefore understand that service of the King itself, rather than the results it brings, is what the wise man seeks. From this we can understand in real life, that the reason the nations of the world worship the sun and stars is not because of their mistake, but because they would rather have physical benefits than serve G-d. There are two advantages to idol worship over G-d worship. The first is that the benefits provided by the idols is not dependent on self-nullification, and the second is that the benefit itself is greater than that received from choosing to benefit solely from the side of holiness.

In the desert the Israelites complained that they ate for free in Egypt; what they were saying is that their physical sustenance came without any corresponding spiritual struggle. The side of holiness only allows for benefit when the right thing is done, and even then it only gives according to a person's work. Kelipos get their life-force from a source above nature, where there are no barriers, and therefore they can provide virtually unlimited sustenance.

According to this explanation, the greatness of the Jew is that he declines to associate himself with the forces of darkness and instead chooses Hashem, even though this means he must work hard for less.

The wise man's reason for choosing the King and not the ministers is because the ministers are only temporary while the King lasts forever. What does this mean? The benefits which accrue to those who align themselves with the forces of darkness, even if these benefits are greater than those available to holiness seekers, are only temporary. After Moshiach comes, and evil ceases to exist, all the G-dly sparks which were contained within that evil will cease to exist. In addition, the benefits for those who choose the side of good will be much greater (after the coming of the Messiah) then ever went to evil-doers in the pre-Messianic age. This is expressed in the Talmudic saying, "If so much goes to those who go against His will, how much more will go to those who follow Him."

This explanation is not sufficient, however, because it implies that the only reason the wise man chooses the King is because he is smart and has figured out that with patience he'll have increased shtuff. This is problematic, because the Medrash implies that the Jewish people choose their King because of their soul, because of the greatness of serving the King, not because of the material benefits associated with that service. Instead, the Jew chooses Hashem because the great physical bounty which goes to the sinner is not given with Hashem's full will, as it were, but rather as a man throws a gift to his enemy behind his back, with disgust. Hashem gives the Jew because he wants to give the Jew, and the Jew takes this, because he wants to receive what Hashem desires to give. The benefits to those who go against His will are not everlasting, and therefore they don't have a true existence even when they are present.

Where does this benefit come from? It's siphoned of from Kedusha, from holiness, and this is the only way it exists. Since that Holiness with them is exiled, as it were, they (the Kelipos) are actually dead. The people who draw from them are also called dead, as it says in Talmud, that wicked men are called dead even while they're alive, because (as it says in Tanya) their life source is death. When a person chooses the King, he chooses life, not death, holiness, not impurity.

This explanation is still not sufficient, because at the end of the day the wise man is still making his choice based on his intellect, and the Medrash seems to be saying that his soul, which is above intellect, is making this choice. In short, the nature of man is to choose whichever path will bring him the most wealth, happiness, peace, or anything and everything good. This nature is what causes the nations of the world to worship their false gods, because they acknowledge only themselves, and therefore choose only that which benefits them. A Jew, on the other hand, because of his divine soul, is able to look beyond himself and choose to worship Hashem, even though he will get (at this point in time) less benefit, because G-dliness is truth, and his soul chooses to align itself with that truth.

In sif zayin the Rebbe brings a mashal from the siddur im da"ch of a king who makes a big expensive feast for his important ministers and honored servants. The leftovers from this mammoth endeavor go to the lowly maid/servants and even to the dogs of the palace. Certainly the king did not make the feast for these people and for his animals, and yet it's very possible that they get even more food than the people who the feast was made for! After all, the king's very important guests only receive the best of the best, and anything that's not perfect is thrown to the masses.

The Rebbe explains every aspect of this mashal , starting with the people who eat of the feast's bounty. First you have the dogs, who run under the tables and get the bones thrown there. The word in Hebrew for dog is "kalev", and this is interpreted as "Kulo Lev", all heart, because a dog is rules solely by his heart, by desires. A person's intellect naturally controls his heart, and some peoples' heart controls their mind, but to negate the mind totally and listen only to one's desires? This person is like a dog.

And you know what? They're treated like one too. Sure, they get all those juicy bones, but they're missing the meat! I think the maamar is talking about a cultural Jew here, someone who loves Judaism not because he believes in it but because it has great kiddushes after davening and the the dancing on Simchas Torah is a lot of fun. The only mitzvos this person keeps is those he enjoys, which provide him with pleasure. Now certainly it's better to do a little than nothing, but to be ruled solely by your desires? What kind of life is that?

The second level of people is the lowly maid/servants. They serve the king only because they're scared of getting hit by him, not because they understand or care. What kinds of Jews are these? The ones who keep Judaism only because of kabbalos ol.

I never used to understand why this level was referred to as "lowly". After all, doesn't chassidus extol at length the greatness of a Jew who serves his creator with kabbalos ol, acceptance of the yoke of heaven? The Rebbe answers this in the maamar, "d'avda b'hefkeira neicha lei." These people would much rather not serve the king.

What kind of people are we talking about? Those who were never taught why we do things, only what to do. Sure, many of them do things for a while, but as soon as they lose their fear, they're gone! They don't have any other reason to connect themselves to Judaism, so they leave. And whose fault is it? Obviously every person is responsible for their own actions, but really, where were their parents and teachers, who should have imbued them with a love and understanding of yiddishkeit? They failed. These people don't get to sit by the king's table, because they don't want to. They don't appreciate their Jewish heritage.

So what is the purpose of kabbalos ol? After all, from here you might think that it's worthless. In reality, kabbalos ol is very important, but only in the right circumstances. When you're dealing with an eight year old, you don't explain everything you tell him to do. But when you're dealing with a fourteen year old, if he doesn't understand (at his level) why he has to do something, then he's not going to do it. Even when dealing with a kid who has kabbalos ol, you only have a limited amount of time to rely on this blind acceptance. Unless you explain in a way he can understand why you're telling him to do things, he will give them up. Some people can rely on their kabbalos ol for years and years, but at some point, without a reason for their faith, they'll give it up. Or their kids will.

When is kabbalos ol a good thing? When a person has a crisis of faith, or a difficult time doing things, or doesn't yet understand, then it's a very good thing. But to base your entire Judaism on it? That Judaism won't last. And even if it does, it's a lowly Judaism, based on fear or habit, not on feeling or appreciation.

The great servants, in contrast to their lowly counterparts, serve the king not only with kabbalos ol (after all, they still must sublimate their will to his), but also with appreciation for the king. They might not understand why they're doing things, for after all, who can understand the will of Hashem, but they want to do what he wants. And why do they want this? Because they understand the greatness of the king. This type of person has a seat at the feast, he's steadfast in his Judaism, but he's not the ultimate. It seems to me that this level is that of the beinoni, or that of the person who wants to be, is capable of being, a beinoni (all of us). He struggles with his yetzer hora all his life, but that's because he wants to struggle, he wants to connect to and serve the king.

The ministers of the king serve him because they understand his ways, which is why many of the affairs of the kingdom are conducted through and by them. Even more than that, these ministers decide policy, because they know what the king wants done. This level is, I believe, the level of a tzaddik, who walks in the ways of his G-d.

There are many levels within this classification, which in general can be divided into two, ministers and great ministers, which I think represents tzaddik she'aino gamur and tzaddik gamur. These three general levels of people who sit at the king's table are all secure in their Judaism, with an intellectual and emotional basis for their belief and a desire to serve their G-d. Sure, they still struggle, and sure, life is hard, but with the proper foundation a house will survive the strongest earthquake, with the proper roots a tree will withstand the most powerful winds.

With this mashal we can now understand the greatness of the pekeach, the smart man, who chooses the king... in brief, a person could strive to be like the great servants or ministers, to become a beinoni or tzaddik, or like the Rebbe says, reach for the highest levels of atzilus. But if he does this then he's missing the point. The point is anah nesiv malkah-I choose the king! It's tough all right, believe you me, but it's the only true way of serving Hashem.

In the analog, the lowly servants represent the seventy guardian angels of the seventy nations, while the servants and ministers that the King serves at his table are holy angels who do G-d's will, the highest emanations of holiness, who are always with the King.

We can now understand the greatness of the Jewish people. That they don't want to receive anything like dogs or servants is obvious, but their refusal to deal with anyone but the King, in place of his highest and most trust-worthy ministers, is admirable. This is comparable to a person who visits a King, and passes through chamber after chamber, each filled with more treasure than the previous one, until he gets to the last chamber, which is more incredible than anything any man has ever imagined. Many people will stop at this last chamber, because they're filled with awe; only the true smart man will pass by and go to meet the King, because only the true smart man is filled with the desire, not to see the King's wealth, but rather the King himself.

This is what the Alter Rebbe said, "I don't want your Garden of Eden, I don't want your World to Come, I want you alone." The Alter Rebbe certainly knew how great these levels were, and in fact he had a greater knowledge of them than most people. And the highest levels don't hide G-d, rather they transmit his rays. And yet he only wants Hashem. This is why the Alter Rebbe specifically said, "Your Garden of Eden, Your World to Come", because even though they are Hashem's, he still wants only Hashem.

These two explanations of "I choose the King", that a person doesn't want even the highest spiritual emanations, but only G-d himself, and the simple meaning, that a person only serves Hashem and not idols, have a connection. The Garden of Eden is great, because it's an incredible spiritual experience, basking in the rays of divine glory. When Hashem himself is chosen though, it leads to complete nullification. If a person makes a mistake and chooses to bask, choosing pleasure in front of truth, then it can lead to a person choosing to worship false gods. He might even come to that these false gods have free choice. Idol worshipers thought that there was something to be gained from serving the sun and stars; choosing anything but Hashem, even his greatest spiritual worlds, is the same thing.

Even is someone wants the Garden of Eden specifically because it's Hashem's there is a problem, because he can come to think that Hashem gave it, or anything in the world, power to choose who to help, as was explained above. A Jew has to know that everything in the world comes only from Hashem.

The main mistake people make in serving idols is that they confuse something which is only a tool for the master. The sun and moon provide benefit for the world, but they have no choice in the matter. The benefit gotten is also mistaken. The physical world is not an ends, but rather only a means with which to serve Hashem. That's why some people choose to worship false gods, because they think that physicality is primary, and therefore they spend their lives trying to accumulate as much of it as possible. The same thing is worth the highest spiritual worlds; they too are only a means to an end, and choosing them is the first step on a slippery path to idol worship.

The source of gentiles is in the "outer will"; they only exist for another reason. They don't realize this, and think that they are the reason for existence, and from this comes the thought that whatever brings the most physical benefit also has the free choice to dispense that benefit. Jews, on the other hand, are the primary purpose of creation, and they therefore recognize that they should serve the primary, Hashem.

The Jewish people serve Hashem because of their souls and because of their intellect. The soul sees that it's source is in the inner will, that it is the purpose for which the world was created, and that affects the brain, that it too should be able to understand. From the intellect the choice in Hashem will permeate every thought, word, and action, causing a Jew to truly be a G-dly person.

King David asks Hashem in Psalm 70 to remember him. This can be explained with a parable. There was once a King who got angry at his flock of sheep (don't ask) and sent them away. At the same time he destroyed their enclosure and fired the shepherd. Later the King was reconciled toward his sheep, and brought them back. He also rebuilt their home. The shepherd wondered what was going on, and asked the King, "Hey, why haven't you rehired me?" So too David asks Hashem, from the end of Psalm 69, "You have remembered Zion and and rebuilt Judah (end of the aforementioned Psalm 69), but I have not been brought back?" Therefore David asks Hashem at the beginning of Psalm 70 to be remembered. The question is, if the King remembered the sheep, why didn't he remember their shepherd? The answer is that a person can have everything but still lack the main thing, which is a revelation of G-d. The purpose of the King is to teach Torah, and since the Torah as we have it now is nothing compared to the Torah of Moshiach, David asks Hashem to let him shepherd the Jews in this infinitely higher way.

Now we can explain the Jew's choice of Hashem and Hashem's choice of the Jews, that Hashem chooses the Jews because they are the purpose of creation, and this leads to the Jews choosing Hashem, because they recognize the truth. A Jew wants Hashem, to the exclusion of all else. Whatever Hashem wants, the Jew also wants. Since the whole purpose of creation is to make a dwelling place down here for Hashem, that is also the Jew's goal. Hashem gives physicality, and the Jew turns it into spirituality, and this will be fulfilled with the coming of Moshiach, speedily in our days, Amen.

The closest Jews?

This afternoon I finished reading "Off the Derech" by Faranak Margolese and reported back to my chavrusa (him of the bovine persuasion). He asked me to sum up the book in one sentence, and I said, "If Lubavitch practiced what it preaches then virtually no Lubavitcher would ever go frie and many more people would be frum." It's funny, because a large part of the problem is people who think they're better than other people. So why am I saying what I'm saying? Because I think it's true. All the problems Mrs. Margolese describes in the book are theoretically not problems in Lubavitch. I say theoretically because of course we do the same stupid things everyone else does. Heck, I do the same stupid things everyone else does. So what's the solution? As Barack Obama says, "Change we can believe in." The fundamental difference between the change our president wants and the change the Jewish world needs is that A. We know what we want (or at least we should), and B. We know how to get there.

What is it that we want for ourselves and our children? A world where people want to be Jewish and work hard to be Jewish. Too often we're missing one or both of these factors. If this isn't what we, as committed (in some way, shape, or form) Jews, want for ourselves and our children, then that needs to be worked on.

How do we get there? We work hard at fixing our faults and following the words of our sages. This means, for starters, internalizing Perek Lamed Beis, applying it not only to the Jew we find on the street but also to the Jew in our shul, our classroom, and most importantly, our home. Unconditional love may not be the answer to all our problems, but it sure can solve a lot of them. Actually, that's not true. The temple was destroyed because of baseless hatred. It'll be rebuilt because of baseless love. I'm not saying anything new here; unfortunately, I'm also not saying anything that doesn't need to be said.

You know, it's really not so easy to love every Jew as yourself. In fact, it's downright difficult. A lot of times Jews do things to you that are really not nice. If it was just anybody behaving badly we'd be able to shrug it off with a "what can you expect from a shikere goy?" (not that I condone such language or thought processes). However, when a Jewish person, particularly a "frum" person, behaves despicably, we condemn not only him but the G-d he so badly represents. It's very difficult to love such a person. Yup. And yet? You got to do what you got to do.
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OK, enough serious shtuff for once. Seems like this whole week I've been posting serious shtuff. Crazy.

As everyone by now probably knows, there were a fair amount of negative comments about my 27 Adar post which ended up on crownheights.info. I didn't respond on the posting itself because I didn't want to waste my time, but I figure that I might as well now.

First of all, if I had known it was going to be posted on there I would have removed the Lipa Schmeltzer thing. It's cute, and everyone here gets it, but the uneducated rabble outside doesn't.

Also, I would have insisted that the title be in Hebrew, and would have changed it to the correct passuk, "Yesomim hayinu, v'ain av," Eicha 5,3, and hopefully people would have responded to it better. The first time I saw that passuk used in this context was the front cover of the Kfar Chabad immediately following Gimmel Tammuz 5754. I was shocked to see it, expressing many of the same feelings people expressed here and there, but I soon recognized that A. It's a passuk, and B. Makes a lot of sense. Obviously the Rebbe is found more down here than before Gimmel Tammuz. And just as obviously, the Rebbe is not here. A dichotomy? Perhaps. But I don't know if you can be a believing Lubavitcher without these two incontrovertible (for a Lubavitcher) facts.

And no, I'm not depressed, and I do believe in Moshiach. Thank you.

Now, onto the criticism of "the immortal Lipa Schmeltzer". I resent whoever it was who suggested that I was not utterly sincere in my quoting of him, and using that title. All right, obviously I'm being minorly facetious, but still. I'm a huge fan of the guy, and I think he's done more for Jewish music than anyone since the eighties versions of MBD and Avraham Fried. This is of course another huge discussion, and one which I categorically refuse to partake in right now. Sorry.

Kabbalos Ol just doesn't cut it

This morning I was learning B'yom Ashtei Assar '31 (Kuntres Yud Aleph Nissan '49) and R' Melech walked by and asked me what I was learning. I showed him what it was, and he said, "Not for the first time-" to which I answered affirmatively. After he walked away I continued learning, and started thinking about the maamar, and I understood it totally differently than I ever had before. The Rebbe Maharash (I believe) once said that you haven't learned a maamar once until you've learned it forty times. So even though I've learned this maamar many times (if not forty then certainly near there) since I first got to zal in LA many moons ago I'm really just beginning to plumb its depths. Thanks must also be given to that book I'm reading, "Off the Derech," which has provided the conceptual background for this understanding.

In sif zayin the Rebbe brings a mashal from the siddur im da"ch of a king who makes a big expensive feast for his important ministers and honored servants. The leftovers from this mammoth endeavor go to the lowly maid/servants and even to the dogs of the palace. Certainly the king did not make the feast for these people and for his animals, and yet it's very possible that they get even more food than the people who the feast was made for! After all, the king's very important guests only receive the best of the best, and anything that's not perfect is thrown to the masses.

The Rebbe explains every aspect of this mashal, starting with the people who eat of the feast's bounty. First you have the dogs, who run under the tables and get the bones thrown there. The word in Hebrew for dog is "Kalev", and this is interpreted as "Kulo Lev", all heart, because a dog is rules solely by his heart, by desires. A person's intellect naturally controls his heart, and some peoples' heart controls their mind, but to negate the mind totally and listen only to one's desires? This person is like a dog.

And you know what? They're treated like one too. Sure, they get all those juicy bones, but they're missing the meat! I think the maamar is talking about a cultural Jew here, someone who loves Judaism not because he believes in it but because it has great kiddushes after davening and the the dancing on Simchas Torah is a lot of fun. The only mitzvos this person keeps is those he enjoys, which provide him with pleasure. Now certainly it's better to do a little than nothing, but to be ruled solely by your desires? What kind of life is that?

The second level of people is the lowly maid/servants. They serve the king only because they're scared of getting hit by him, not because they understand or care. What kinds of Jews are these? The ones who keep Judaism only because of kabbalos ol.

I never used to understand why this level was referred to as "lowly". After all, doesn't chassidus extol at length the greatness of a Jew who serves his creator with kabbalos ol, acceptance of the yoke of heaven? The Rebbe answers this in the maamar, "d'avda b'hefkeira neicha lei." These people would much rather not serve the king.

What kind of people are we talking about? Those who were never taught why we do things, only what to do. Sure, many of them do things for a while, but as soon as they lose their fear, they're gone! They don't have any other reason to connect themselves to Judaism, so they leave. And whose fault is it? Obviously every person is responsible for their own actions, but really, where were their parents and teachers, who should have imbued them with a love and understanding of yiddishkeit? They failed. These people don't get to sit by the king's table, because they don't want to. They don't appreciate their Jewish heritage.

So what is the purpose of kabbalos ol? After all, from here you might think that it's worthless. In reality, kabbalos ol is very important, but only in the right circumstances. When you're dealing with an eight year old, you don't explain everything you tell him to do. But when you're dealing with a fourteen year old, if he doesn't understand (at his level) why he has to do something, then he's not going to do it. Even when dealing with a kid who has kabbalos ol, you only have a limited amount of time to rely on this blind acceptance. Unless you explain in a way he can understand why you're telling him to do things, he will give them up. Some people can rely on kabbalos ol for years and years, but at some point, without a reason for their faith, they'll give it up. Or their kids will.

When is kabbalos ol a good thing? When a person has a crisis of faith, or a difficult time doing things, or doesn't yet understand, then kabbalos ol is a very good thing. But to base your entire Judaism on it? That Judaism won't last. And even if it does, it's a lowly Judaism, based on fear or habit, not on feeling or appreciation.

The great servants, in contrast to their lowly counterparts, serve the king not only with kabbalos ol (after all, they still must sublimate their will to his), but also with appreciation for the king. They might not understand why they're doing things, for after all, who can understand the will of Hashem, but they want to do what he wants. And why do they want this? Because they understand the greatness of the king. This type of person has a seat at the feast, he's steadfast in his Judaism, but he's not the ultimate. It seems to me that this level is that of the beinoni, or that of the person who wants to be, is capable of being, a beinoni (all of us). He struggles with his yetzer hora all his life, but that's because he wants to struggle, he wants to connect to and serve the king.

The ministers of the king serve him because they understand his ways, which is why many of the affairs of the kingdom are conducted through and by them. Even more than that, these ministers decide policy, because they know what the king wants done. This level is, I believe, the level of a tzaddik, who walks in the ways of his G-d.

There are many levels within this classification, which in general can be divided into two, ministers (stam) and great ministers, which I think represents tzaddik she'aino gamur and tzaddik gamur. These three general levels of people who sit at the king's table are all secure in their Judaism, with an intellectual and emotional basis for their belief and a desire to serve their G-d. Sure, they still struggle, and sure, life is hard, but with the proper foundation a house will survive the strongest earthquake, with the proper roots a tree will withstand the most powerful winds.

With this mashal we can now understand the greatness of the pekeach, the smart man, who chooses the king...in brief, a person could strive to be like the great servants or ministers, to become a beinoni or tzaddik, or like the Rebbe says, reach for the highest levels of atzilus. But if he does this then he's missing the point. The point is anah nesiv malkah-I choose the king! It's tough all right, believe you me, but it's the only true way of serving Hashem.