Sun dreams

A friend of mine recently told me that I should blog about solar energy, because the Rebbe was very for it. I told him that I really didn't know anything about solar energy, and anyway, there's so much the Rebbe wanted us to work on, why spend time on this one issue? He responded that ignorance is no excuse, and my second reason was little better, so I decided to ponder the subject and let the spirits guide my fingers.
There's this big ball up in the sky that has some massive fusion going on. It's called "The Sun". According to the Rambam, it, along with everything else in the universe, circles planet Earth. How to explain this to your average non-fundamentalist? The first option is Einstein's special theory of relativity, which says that when two things are flying around each other it's impossible to ever know which one is going around. So according to dear old (currently dead) Albert, the sun could very well be flying merrily around the earth. The models to make all the other planets happy, not to mention gravity, are a bit sketchy, but still possible.
Taking this theory further would be the notion that everything is the way science currently envisions it, but that a look on the outside would confirm that indeed earth was the center, pegged, as it were, in the middle of a vast box (or ball, if you're so inclined), so that while the earth would appear to be traveling around the sun in actuality the opposite would be occurring. Since neither of these positions are, by definition, provable, they are also not unprovable, and therefore you may as well believe in them as in any other crackpot ideas.
Moving onto how the sun can help us. As I've blogged about several times before, I'm a huge fan of the sun and the light it provides billions of humans, almost every day, free of charge. One of the problems is harnessing that light to work for you and me. Since I know close to nothing about this particular horse race, I won't offer any particular solutions, but I will say (write) that I'm all for anything that breaks our dependency on foreign oil (President George W. Bush paid me to say {write} that).
Truth is, I'm a big believer in A. Laissez Faire economics, and B. Hashgacha Pratis, Divine Providence. the first resulted in the Great Depression, while the second resulted in basically everything else. Yeah, let the market decide, and if it can't make up its mind then why should I get involved?
For our last little ramble about the sun (that was a rather pedestrian double entendre), I'd like to point out that nuclear energy, however it's pronounced, is also quite fun. Same goes for disturbing moose habitat in ANWR and building lots of dirty coal power plants in developing nations like Biafra, Rhodesia, and the Republic of Texas.
And that friends, is all the news that isn't (much like Biafra).

Horns of the Altar

As you are probably well aware, the reason I haven't posted anything in the last few days is because it was Pesach. And yeah, it was pretty good. On Friday night I managed to stay up until 5:15, which was good enough to fulfill Hayom Yom's request. In previous years I never made it past two or three, but thank G-d I was dumb enough this time around to make it happen. The seventh of Pesach is one of three nights when we skip the sleep, but it's pretty inferior to the other two. Actually, depending on how you look at it, it's superior. On the night of Shavous we stay up and read the Tikkun, which usually takes three or four hours. Once you've finished that it's off to the Mikve, with a quick taste of cheesecake if you're lucky. Or, if you're in Yeshiva in LA and your friend has keys to the kitchen, it's more like a whole meal at 4:00 AM, not that I have any idea what that means (wink wink). On Hoshana Raba we also stay up, this time reading Devarim before midnight and the book of Tehillim afterwards. No cheesecake on this night, but at least you get apples and honey (is this a purely Minnesota custom? I have absolutely no idea). Pesach, on the other body appendage, has no set learning schedule. Sure, you're supposed to learn, but seriously folks, does anyone actually think people are gonna learn? Now watch me get a bunch of self-righteous comments from people who claim to have spent their time wisely. As I wrote earlier, this lawlessness does have its advantages. No one need feel guilty for not completing a quota, and one is free to participate in a highly intellectual discussion, or just to crack nuts. Oh yeah, that was another problem this year. Since it was Shabbos, and nutcrackers are forbidden, we had no pecans, almonds, Brazil nuts, or any other types of nuts. Tragic when you think about it. Nevertheless, I made it, and I'm sure you're all very proud.
Moving right along to Sunday, I'm happy to report that I fulfilled R' Dovid Raskin's instructions to a "T" and did Tahalucha in rain, snow, and hail. For those of you who don't know what Tahalucha is, let me explain. Basically, the Rebbe encouraged his Chassidim (mainly Bochurim) to walk (on Yom Tov) and spread both the light of Chassidus and Chassidic joy to Shuls both near and far. As it happens, there's only one destination for us Chassidim ( mainly Bochurim {that could be a rock group [on second thought, most short phrases could, and probably have been, names of rock groups]}) (nice, I scored a trifecta), and that is Beis Yisroel in S. Louis Park. It's nearly ten miles away, and as I mentioned, we had some foul weather to contend with. Nevertheless, we persevered, and got to spend the Moshiach Seudah with our Lithuanian friends, which is always fun. Why you ask? Well, for starters, we get buzzed on Rashi wine, and Matza's last heroic gasp is always a moving experience. Rabbi Moshe Tuvia Lieff, a future Gadol Hador (I'm not joking), was as always quite welcoming.
So you're wondering why I'm not roasting these Snags on a pomegranate branch over an open pit deep in the heart of Texas? First of all, I'm not deep in the heart of anything, least of all Texas. Second of all (what's with the "of all"?), I don't have it in my heart to curse out people I know personally.
And I have it in my heart to curse out people I don't know personally? Of course. Anyway, as I've explained before, I'm not cursing out people, their personalitys, or their actions, just their excesses. I'd do the same for Chabad, but we have none.
Once again, I'm only kidding. Like Hershel Tzig before me though, I find so much Chabad-bashing in the world, and even in (especially in?) Chabad itself, that my voice added to the fray would be of little use to anyone. There are problems, sure, but why harp on them?
Continuing yesterday's biography, last night was clean up. It's one of the few times on Pesach that I wish we went to a hotel. But as I say, it's only a few times, and anyways, it's all over now, so let's get on with this real-life thing. Yeah!
(Nothing like melodrama to end a night off, right?)

200!

Not that I enjoy tooting my own horn or anything, but I would like to point out that I got a 7.2 rating on Blogged.com. It's not Chaim Rubin's 8.1, but I'll take it. Perhaps he edits his posts. I almost never do, which is something y'all may have noticed. Why not? I'm too lazy. Anyway, I get sick of reading my stuff. Perhaps if I wrote better the first time? Interesting (the faithful ellipsis)... Of course, it's nice to reach 200 posts, but it's unfortunate that I really don't have too much to write on this momentous occasion.

Onto bigger and better things. Actually, they're rather trivial and petty things, but if you write it they will read it, so why not? I've been thinking about updating my user-profile again. All right, this subject goes beyond the trivial and moves over into the "who cares?" part. But still, it's important. Amazing. I just wrote that it's inane and then immediately followed by saying that it's important. What's up with that?
Oh yeah, the user-profile. Who do I put in the "Favorite Music" category? Sure, I just updated it, but there's at least another four or five guys on the edge. MBD, Ohad, Shloime Gertner, Dudu Fisher, 8th Day, and even Yossi Green all have music that I like a lot. But does that mean that they should merit to go on my coveted list? How about Benny Friedman?
Oh, the joy of realizing that what I put up on here makes not the slightest bit of difference to anyone. One of the benefits of putting up names is that it links you to all other bloggers with those names. As is to be expected, most of the Avraham Fried fans are in Brooklyn, while Yosef Karduner seems to have a more eclectic crowd of aging Breslovers. Does the word "aging" not sound very nice? Well, it's true for all of us (I assume), and anyway, it was the only quality I could extrapolate from the group. Some of the people are pretty weird. But then again, everyone looks weird when viewed through the blogger prism. We all have embarrassing secrets that have shaped who we are, and yet are too private to reveal. It's like reading the last chapter of a book first, knowing what happened but not knowing how it all ended up like that. Other people reveal way too much about themselves. Sometimes it's interesting, but usually it's extraneous.
OK, I'll add all those guys to my list of favorite musicians. It can't hurt, right? Besides, for some reason, it makes a blog look more interesting when it has plenty of things on the user-page.
Speaking of music, don't think for a second that I'm not bummed about this whole Sefirah thing. Sure, it happens every year, but it's painful to think that for a month I won't be able to listen to music. I'm not even so sure about the benefits of Lag Baomer, because it's just a teaser. Would it be better to not have any hiatus in six weeks? Possibly. Of course I'm not complaining about the religion or anything. Heaven Forfend. It just seems a little rough, that's all. As for Sefirah music...Don't even get me started. In one of the few good jokes Mendy Pellin made in the last year, he said that they're torturing terrorists in Guantanamo Bay with Sefirah Music. Of course, it's not true, because the US Constitution doesn't allow us to punish people in cruel and unusual ways.

OK Sentiments

Continuing the traditional Chol Hamoed family outing extravaganza, today we went to the Science Museum of Minnesota. Unfortunately, we only had about an hour and a half, but that was the amount of time it took to cover the one exhibit we had come to see anyway, so that was all right. The exhibit was "Deadly Medicine", and it deals with the the Nazi involvement with eugenics. Basically, they needed excuses to kill Jews, seeing as the religion they didn't believe obviously wouldn't work, so they got science to take over. 11 million people later...
The Rebbe always stressed that culture, art, science, the refinement in general of mankind, was no defense against the basest of human urges.
There were a lot of high-school students, mainly Asian and Somalian kids, at the exhibit. Some of them slowly went through it, piece by piece, taking care to read every placard and watch every video, while others went through it quickly, not bothering to pay too much attention. As one of the only obvious Jews present I felt a curious responsibility to see the whole thing. I also felt that it was important for all these students, many of whom have no European connection, to see someone who is somehow connected.
Seeing as it's really late, and I'm once again really tired, and I really don't have too much else to write, well, I guess that'll be all for now.

Here's you go

In the most recent issue of the Nshei Chabad Newsletter there is an interesting editorial from Rishe Deitsch. By the way, the newsletter is the best English-language Lubavitch publication out there, with Beis Moshiach in second. You're right, there aren't too many English-language Lubavitch publication out there anyway, but you get the point. Mrs. Deitsch wrote about the evils of verbosity, and brought many examples to back herself up. While I fully support her crusade to rid the world of wordy essays and garrulous articles, it does seem, at least to me, to be a strange forum for this crusade. What exactly does good writing have to do with the women of Chabad? Additionally, while I do agree with her point, she does neglect to mention that on occasion writers have verbal diarrhea on purpose. Perhaps they enjoy it, or maybe they're mocking another. Hey, I do it all the time. Is it partially because I'm not the greatest writer in the world? Yeah, probably. But at the same time, sometimes (OK, too many times) I do write too much, for the simple joy of the turn of English.

Pesach was really nice. I saw a short exchange in "Hamelech Bemsibo" between the Rebbe and his brother-in-law, the Rashag. The Rashag wanted to know why the students of the five sages had to come and tell them that it was time for the morning Shema. This question has been asked a billion times, and there's probably two billion answers, but this Pesach was the first time I'd seen this one, and you're reading anyway (presumably), so bear with me. The Rebbe answered that when the Avoda, the work, of the students is over, then the Avoda of their teachers' is over as well.
Is this not a powerful lesson? It's funny, because that's all there is to the exchange. What's really needed is a great Mashpia to Farbreng about this for, oh, seventeen hours or so.
I, as you may or may not have noticed, am not that great Mashpia, so you'll have to work out the ramifications on your own.

In other thoughts, I was contemplating my Mivtzoyim (community (i.e. Persian and Israeli] outreach) route in Los Angeles. If you can believe it, and I see no reason why you you shouldn't, I (and my Chavrusa Dov Ber Berkowitz [did I spell that last name right?]) got 30 Tefillin every week, not to mention a similar number of distributed Lchaims and an average of 120 dollars for Tzedaka. When we'd come into Yeshiva, proud of our exploits, people would say, "What are you so excited about? You think you did anything? It's all the Rebbe! And anyway, Mivtzoyim isn't about numbers, it's about effort." Yeah, they were probably just sore, but they did have a valid point.
Today I was thinking about this and it struck me that at the end of the day, it's probably no bad thing to be proud of Mivtzoyim exploits. At least you're proud of doing the right thing.

And last but not least, I'm happy to report that Baruch Hashem I fulfilled the time-honored tradition of going to a zoo on Chol Hamoed. For the first time that I can remember, the lion was not only awake but quite vocal too, which scared my niece to no end. Don't worry, she got over it. It was nice to see many other Orthodox-type Jews also continuing this fine practice, including the Morah D'asra of Beis Yisroel in Minneapolis and a future Gadol Hador, if I may say so myself. Well, it's 1:00 now, my self-imposed deadline, so "so long everybody".

P.S. Some people correctly pointed out that the final paragraph seems to say that I, TRS, am a future Gadol Hador. I'd like to correct that misconception and state that while I have many Taivos (passionate desires), being a Gadol Hador is not one of them.
The sentence above was supposed to make clear that the Morah D'asra of Beis Yisroel is a future Gadol Hador.
I'm glad we cleared that one up.

Well...

I could do the artistic and dumb thing and write a long post now, or I could be smart and go to sleep. I think I'll go to sleep. Don't worry though, tomorrow you'll have more then you ever dreamed of! Or something like that.

We're coming closer...

Tonight is the night before the night before Pesach, and therefore I'll just give you all some of my thoughts on Pesach, and what it means to me. I'm giving myself a deadline of 1:00 AM to finish, so if it's too short or something, well, that's my fault.
Anyway, Pesach is all about getting rid of Chametz, both in a physical and a spiritual sense. This particular topic has been harped on so often that I really have nothing too brilliant to add. All I'd say is that if people spent just 10% of the time they devote to their physical cleaning on spiritual cleaning, the world would be a much better place. It seems to me, and I know that I'm going against everything that I wrote/butchered last night, that people are trained to avoid introspection. Sure, some people do it all the time, but that's just because they're masochists. No one really wants to evaluate themselves. They're too scared of what they'll come up with. Why are we less afraid of our physical possessions? Probably because, at the end, they really don't matter. There's mice in the house (Not that there is)? So, who's fault is that? It's nature, or nurture, or your kids, or husband, or whatever, but certainly not yours. Point is, there's someone to blame.
With soul-baring however, there just (as the Marcus Brothers would have it) ain't nobody to blame. So we try and avoid it. Pesach teaches us-hold on there one minute buster. Why does every holiday have to teach us? Why do we always have to learn a lesson from every single thing in the whole universe? Can't we all just live and let live?
Anyway, as I was saying, Pesach teaches us that though cleaning properly is a major pain, it's 1. necessary, and 2. possible. Is spiritual cleaning that much harder? In some respects, it's probably easier. No one else has to know it's going on, and there's no annoying family that moves in once your done (just kidding). Besides, introspection is such a nice word, and it will look good on any resume. Or for that matter, on any gravestone.
OK then folks, I've run over my self-imposed time limit here by six minutes, and I'm also rather tired, as usual, so bye.

Coherent ramblings

Tonight I once again had the privilege of attending a Farbrengen with Rabbi Manis Friedman, this time in his house, in honor of the 11th of Nissan, birthday of the Lubavitcher Rebbe and certain devoted readers of this humble blog. Unfortunately for Rabbi Mordechai Friedman, and all of you, the Farbrengen was one of those that are very hard to write down afterwards, because their flow is so nebulous and their structure to free forming. Plus, it's two in the morning, I'm tired like nobody's (yes, not even yours) business, and, um, well, I'll try, but no promises. Oh, and yes, if any of the following sounds elitist, then so be it. I'm not Barack Obama, and you're not a group of San Fransisco donors, so no worries. Not that I won't take your money from you, no worries in that corner.

The wise son in the Haggada asks, "What are the Edus (Testimonies), Chukim (Decrees), and Mishpatim (Laws) that Hashem our G-d has commanded you?" What's his problem? He doesn't understand what exactly Hashem wants from him. Does he want him to understand, which is what the Mishpatim are all about, or does he want him to serve on blind faith, the Chukim. And what are these Edus things anyway? We normally explain them as being laws which we would not have come up with on our own, but once Hashem has commanded them we understand why. Another explanation is that Edus are laws which testify about something which we otherwise would not know about. If we know something, then obviously there's no need for testimony. (I don't remember where this one came in, but trust me, it all made sense at the time.)
So what is so great about the wise son? What makes him wise? It's very simple. He doesn't have an opinion. People make a big mistake. They think that they have to have an opinion on every topic. The truth is the opposite. People should not have an opinion on any topic. The less intelligent the person, the more strident they are in their opinions. For some reason, taxi drivers have very strong opinions. For some reason they remain taxi drivers. People call in to radio talk shows to express their opinions. Guess what? Nobody cares what you think! People have an opinion because they are full of themselves. Real smart people don't have opinions. If they know something they'll offer it, but they don't comment on what they don't know. Children, on the other hand, have very strong opinions. Why? Because they're immature. Their ego feels that it should have an opinion.
Hashem tells us what to do. We don't get to have an opinion. Whatever he says goes. Bittul, self-nullification, means that you don't have an opinion. Ego is the opposite. When a person refuses to put of Tefillin because he doesn't believe in G-d, what is he really showing? That he's not intelligent. This doesn't mean that he doesn't know a lot; just because you know a bunch of facts doesn't mean you are intelligent. People with strong opinions never innovate, because they never think outside the box. Einstein's particular genius lay in the fact that he was able to come up with many new ideas. Why was he able to do this? Because he never paid attention to himself. When he did voice an opinion, objecting to Heisenberg's uncertainty principle, it was disastrous. Later he would call it, "The greatest mistake of my life." Why was he able to make this mistake? Because he developed an opinion. When a person, even the smartest one, develops an opinion, he effectively tells the world that he is qualified to form an opinion on any given subject, and moreover is confident that any position he has taken is the correct one.
Lubavitch sends out thousands of Shluchim, and each one is different. These Shluchim were endowed with a very unique quality: They have to be totally nullified, only doing what the Rebbe wants, and yet at the same time they have to understand what the right course of action is. The Rebbe would ask Shluchim why they hadn't consulted him before doing some project, yet at the same time ask Shluchim why they needed to ask. The point? A Shliach has to use his brains to figure out what to do, and many times that means asking the Rebbe what course of action should be undertaken. When a Shliach puts his own spin on the Rebbe's work, life will be much harder than necessary. Any person, when forming opinions, prevents himself from doing what he has to do.
(For those keeping score at home, Rabbi Friedman managed to convey his point in a much nicer fashion than I've been able to.)

Next up, again segued in somehow, was how to deal with life. If a person has an opinion, they they hold themselves to be important. They believe that they have answered the question, whichever question that might be. They can't deal with life the way they should deal with it.
A Chassid once complained to the Rebbe that he had no children. The Rebbe responded that he too had no children. The Chassid said, "Yes, but you're a Rebbe!" The Rebbe said, "A day does not pass that I don't think about this subject."
Was the Rebbe paralyzed by this problem? Certainly not. Only someone who's intelligent can recognize that there are problems in the world, and we have to work towards ending those problems. Egoists, when faced with a problem, give up. "Life is not fair," they say, "Why do I deserve this?"
What's the answer? I don't know. After the Holocaust there were three Jewish reactions. The first was to completely leave Hashem, because he had (seemingly) left them. The second was to come up with a half-baked excuse, and remain Frum. The third was to say that just like before the war nothing made sense, so too nothing makes sense afterwards. Having a child is a mystery. Losing a child is a mystery. We don't question when good comes our way, which is fine, but then we question when bad is our lot, which is not fine. Why the sudden change in attitude?
A humble person knows that certain questions will never be answered, but that's no excuse not to work. Children are able to survive much more traumatic experiences than adults. This is because they don't know what going on. The less you know, the better your chances for survival. For some Bochurim, Yeshiva is very difficult, because things are not perfectly right. For many people, life is very difficult, because things are not perfectly right. Should the pain bother you? Yes. But to let it interfere with the mission at hand? We don't know Hashem's master plan, and may not even want to know. If we just concentrate on doing the right thing, not forming opinions, then good shtuff will happen.
(Once again, it was much more nicely said by Rabbi Friedman.) I'd like to mention that it is now nearly three, and I hope that you're all grateful.

106 and counting

Today is the eleventh of Nissan, the 106th birthday of the Lubavitcher Rebbe. If you remember, I translated the Maamar that is most associated with this day, B'yom Ashtei Assar 5731; if you scroll down a bit I've spruced it up a (very little) bit, and put it all into one post, for your reading pleasure. In this post I'll reflect a little on what the eleventh of Nissan means to me, and if I get melodramatic in the process, well, that's just a risk we all have to take.

This morning I helped Rabbi Manis Friedman make a Minyan in his house, and at the end he said some interesting things. I was in the middle of saying Tehillim, and so I missed out on most of what he said, but I did manage to catch one snippet. Someone said the old chestnut that, "You can take the Jew out of exile, but you can't take the exile out of a Jew," to which the Rabbi responded, "The Rebbe can take a Jew out of exile, but only a Jew can take the exile out of himself." This reminded me of something that Rabbi Shmuel Lew said a couple of nights back. The Rebbe once told one of his household aids that he was born on a Friday, and just like everyone always works really hard on a Friday but never manages to get everything done in time, so too he worked really hard at everything but never quite managed to bring them to completion. Rabbi Lew spun this positively, but that's not the point I want to bring out. When the Rebbe said on the 28th of Nissan, 1991, that he had done all he could and now it was up to us, he was being serious.
The Rebbe once said (if I recall correctly) that if there were a Minyan of people who really wanted Moshiach then he would come. What's the problem? We don't want enough? I guess so. It's a bit harsh to say that, but presumably it's the truth, and the truth never minced words.

Anyway, onto the Rebbe's birthday. What does it mean to us? I dislike when people say, "Oh, if there was never a 11 Nissan, there would be no Rebbe Chas Veshalom, where would we be?" Listen folks, there could just as easily have been a 10 or 12 Nissan. Sure, special things happen on special days and all that, but I think that the issue is a much bigger one. What does it mean to us now? There are many big Mashpiim who are doubtless Farbrenging on this very topic as I write, and what little I can add to the mix is of decidedly inferior character, but seeing as I've had this big build-up it would be sick of me not to deliver the goods.
11 Nissan is meaningful to me because it's the birthday of the one person who really cared about this world and the people on it. No other human being has ever exhibited the selflessness of the Rebbe. No, sorry, "selflessness" implies that there is a self, only it's sublimated. With the Rebbe, there was no self. Whatever Hashem wanted, he wanted. Hashem wanted a dwelling place down here? The Rebbe did too. But again, the Rebbe took action. I was just reading Oorah's newest brochure, and it's beautiful to see the amazing work they're doing. Who's responsible for what they're doing? Who's responsible for the full page picture of the kid in the front of the booklet wearing Tefillin? You better bet it's the Lubavitcher Rebbe. Forty years ago, a non-Lubavitch organization promoting Tefillin wearing would have been banned with more virulence than any Shaitel or concert. But now? Not only did Lubavitch pave the way, it provided the intellectual underpinnings for the entire new Judaism. Obviously, there's only one person responsible for what Lubavitch has done, and that's the Rebbe.
This reminds me of a relatively famous, probably apocryphal, story of a Shliach who made a dinner, and at said dinner he was surprised with some sort of honor by his congregants. He made an off the cuff speech, in which he said, "Everything that's been done, it's all the Rebbe's Kochos that have been channeled through me", or something like that. An elderly Chassid, probably a relative, was at the dinner, and he went up to the Shliach and said, "Fool! You're right that everything that's been accomplished is only because of the Rebbe. But if you hadn't 'channeled' anything, and had let the Rebbe do what he wanted, how much more would have been done."
Um, I kind of butchered that one. I just can't remember the exact lines. But no matter, the point is clear: The Rebbe wants what Hashem wants, and if you stop being a pretentious, snotfaced little twerp, then the Rebbe can get the work done. Your contribution, what the Rebbe left for you, is just to follow orders like a soldier.
That's the lesson of 11 Nissan. Have a slice of birthday cake, say a Lchaim, and get to work.

The Complete B'yom Ashtei Assar 5731

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. 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 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.

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 5768 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.

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. The Nimshal, the analog, is obvious. 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 responsibilitys 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 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.