On Devarim

___________________________

THE HOLIDAY of Tisha B’Av, on which we mourn the tragic destruction of both Holy Temples and the resultant Jewish exile that has lasted unto the present day (may G-d in His mercy end it immediately!), is the culmination of the period known as “the Three Weeks,” also focused on the above theme. However, this mourning does not imply despair, for we are ever mindful of the fact that G-d does nothing that is not for the good: even such a national calamity as the destruction of the Holy Temple is merely, at its deepest root, a veil hiding an essential good which is so supreme as to elude our limited mortal perception. Furthermore, with the imminent arrival of the Moshiach (Messiah), we will be able to perceive the underlying good of G-d’s actions. That is why – in addition to the obvious fact that the holiday which once marked the destruction of the Temples and the beginning of exile will then assume a joyous aspect in that the Temples will have been rebuilt and the exile ended – our sages teach that with Moshiach’s arrival, Tisha B’Av will be transformed into a day of indescribable joy: its true nature will then be apparent, and we will celebrate the great good that G-d had bestowed upon us all along.

In keeping with the above, the “Three Weeks” is a time of hope and anticipation, as we look forward expectantly to G-d’s transforming our very suffering itself into joy. This is hastened by our doing what G-d expects of us: study of Torah and performance of mitzvos, especially the mitzvah of tz’dakah, charity, which is considered equivalent to all the mitzvos. By our having compassion on others, may G-d have compassion upon us and rebuild the Holy Temple immediately.

This idea is expressed by the verse (Isaiah 1:27), “Zion will be redeemed with justice, and her returnees with charity.” As this week’s Torah portion, D’varim, is always read on the Shabbos before Tisha B’Av, it is fitting to reflect on the above verse and explore some of its inner significance.

The verse (Deuteronomy 6:6), “and these words [i.e., the Torah], which I command you this day [shall be upon your heart],” means that a person should consider the words of Torah ever fresh and relevant to him or her, as though he or she received the Torah anew each and every day – as our sages teach (Sifri on the above verse, 33; quoted by the classic commentator Rashi in his explanation of Deuteronomy 26:16), “Every day, they should be new in your eyes.” To understand how a person can surpass mere platitude and achieve this feeling genuinely, we need to realize why it was necessary for the soul to descend into this physical world: after all, was not the soul, which originated in the loftiest heights (even higher than angels) perfectly well off as it was? What does it gain by being born into a body, even if it does live a life of Torah and mitzvos?

The answer is hinted at in the wording of the prayer Elokai Neshama, which we recite upon awakening every morning. It reads as follows: “My G-d, the soul that You have placed into me is pure. You created it; You formed it; You breathed it into me; and You preserve it within me .… As long as the soul is within me, I give thanks before you, O G-d …. Blessed are You, G-d, Who restores souls to dead bodies.”

The reference to the soul as “pure” alludes to its origin in the supernal purity (“tahiru ila’ah,” see Zohar I, 15a) of heaven. The expression, “You created it” is a reference to G-d having brought the soul as we now know it into being out of nothingness. This is the first of many spiritual steps allowing for the possibility of actual investiture of the soul within a physical body: “You breathed it into me.” But even this last is not all there is to it; the soul’s character remains spiritual and its natural tendency is to leave the body and return to G-d. Accordingly, it is necessary for G-d to exert some “supervision” over the soul, watching over it and preserving it in its bodily form. This is what is meant by “You preserve it within me.”

The above corresponds to G-d’s relation to the world as immanent within creation, responsible for the individual nature and details of every thing; and also as transcendent, exerting influence from above, as it were, without investing Himself within the specifics of the universe.

The prayer goes on to express thanks to G-d, and concludes with the traditional form of blessing, “Blessed are You, etc.”

In Talmudic times, this prayer was the very first thing uttered upon awakening from sleep (see B’rachos 60b); it was thus the beginning and foundation of our worship for the entire day.

In the Elokai Neshama prayer, the expression, “I give thanks to You” is modeh ani l’fanecha. The Hebrew language does not have a word that is precisely equivalent to the English “thanks”; the concept of “thanks” is expressed by the word hoda’ah (of which modeh is a form), which literally denotes “concession” or “admission.” That is, one who has received something “concedes” his or her indebtedness to the benefactor. Yet the word hoda’ah carries (as do its English equivalents) an implication of prior dispute; one side is now conceding to the other, as in, e.g., the Talmudic expression, “the Sages concede (modim) to Rabbi Meir.” This being the case, and in light of the fact that the Hebrew language is the “Holy Tongue,” whose every nuance is meaningful, we must ask how the expression hoda’ah is appropriate as applied to G-d. What possible “difference of opinion,” as it were, could exist between G-d and us insignificant mortals, that we should “concede” to Him upon awakening from sleep?

The answer, however, is not really that difficult, for indeed, one may identify two conflicting perspectives on the universe. It appears to us (albeit due to our own inadequate perception) that our earthly existence is “reality” and anything we cannot see or touch is only “ideal,” “imagination,” or some such term. Thus, even with the best of intentions, we speak of having been created by G-d yesh me’ayin, “something out of nothing” – as though we are the “something” and G-d is the “nothing.” But, of course, that is a fundamental mistake. G-d’s perspective is exactly the opposite: it is He Who is the true existence, the true “Something,” and we who are but “nothing” before Him. Thus, the very foundation of our worship is to “concede” this point to G-d: as soon as we regain consciousness in the morning, we must adopt G-d’s perspective, the true perspective, on reality.

Each and every Jew has it within him or her to achieve this “concession” to G-d, this recognition of His truth. However, this is not to say that everyone has fully internalized this idea; unfortunately, that may not be so at all. Hoda’ah does not imply that one has thoroughly embraced and internalized the proposition in question, has become suffused with a realization of its certainty. Hoda’ah simply means that one admits and recognizes that this must be so, but one can still be quite remote from a true internalization of the idea. In this respect, hoda’ah corresponds to the “transcendence” discussed earlier: the idea is not really one’s own, it does not pervade one through and through, it may be thought of as something taken on faith, which transcends one’s own reason.

On the other hand, the Hebrew word for “blessing,” b’racha, connotes drawing down from above to the point of being internalized. For example, the Talmud (B’rachos 7a) tells of an incident involving the High Priest Rabbi Yishmael son of Elisha, who related, “Once, I went in to offer up the incense in the Holy of Holies, and I beheld [G-d] sitting on a high and exalted throne. He said to me, ‘Yishmael, My son, bless Me.’” Although in context, this Talmudic narrative teaches us not to take the blessing of an ordinary person lightly (even G-d Himself valued the blessing of Rabbi Yishmael, a mortal), it has deeper, mystical significance. G-d did not really need Rabbi Yishmael’s blessing, of course; rather, the word barcheini – “bless Me” – is to be understood in its elemental sense of “through your worship, accomplish the drawing down of My holiness even into the physical world.” Likewise, we find the expression (Psalms 106:48), “Blessed is G-d from world to world,” which does not mean so much “May G-d receive a ‘blessing’” as “May G-d’s holiness be revealed and transmitted down to us from the lofty spiritual world known as alma d’iskasya (the “hidden realm,” so called because it is beyond our ability to perceive) into this world in which we live, known as alma d’isgalya (the “revealed world,” that is, in which G-d’s manifestation takes a form more accessible to our limited perception).”

The point is that although we start our prayers with hoda’ah – recognition of G-d’s truth, even if only as an article of faith – we must work towards achieving b’racha, the point at which the knowledge of G-d’s true perspective is as certain to us as if we could actually see it. This is to be accomplished in the Sh’moneh Esreh prayer, so called because it means “eighteen,” a reference to the eighteen b’rachos, blessings, it contains.

For this to happen, we need what was referred to in the verse quoted earlier: “and these words [i.e., the Torah], which I command you this day.” For it is only through Torah and mitzvos (which cannot be performed by souls in Heaven, but only in this life) that one can draw G-d down to an immanent, “internal” level. And this in turn depends upon the prior verse “And you shall love G-d your G-d”: it is love of G-d that motivates performance of mitzvos. These verses are recited in the Shema prayer, which comes before the Sh’moneh Esreh: in order to progress from the level of hoda’ah to the level of b’racha, one must attain ahava – love – along the way.

In the Shema, the abovementioned verses are preceded by the verses, “Hear O Israel, G-d is our G-d, G-d is One,” and “Blessed is the name of His glorious kingdom forever and ever.” Another way to understand the characterization of creation as “something out of nothing” is that G-d Himself is so exalted, so utterly above all, that creation can only be attributed to Him in the same way that the projects of a king are attributable to him. The king commands, for example, that a bridge be erected or a city built, and those things are done without his ever having physically lifted a shovel. Nevertheless, they are considered the king’s deeds, the king’s accomplishments; they reflect glory on the king even though he was not personally involved. Similarly, G-d’s creation of the universe is said to be a function of His attribute of Sovereignty, for He Himself is exalted above creation, yet brought it all into being by His command. The expression creation out of “nothing” can be understood to allude to this idea: the spiritual level that is the source of our creation is itself “nothing” as compared to G-d’s actual “Self” (allegorically speaking). And this is the inner meaning of “Blessed is the name of His glorious kingdom forever and ever”: the Hebrew word for “forever,” l’olam, also means “world”; the implication being that it is “the name of G-d’s glorious kingdom,” His attribute of Sovereignty, that allows for the creation of all worlds.

However, the above – that creation stems from “nothing” in the sense that everything is rooted “only” in G-d’s attribute of Sovereignty (malchus) – only describes the state of affairs G-d has seen fit to establish as the usual order of spiritual progression. There is an advantage in Torah and mitzvos in that, through them, we can supercede this natural order (seder ha-hishtalshelus) and draw down into the world an element of the transcendent aspect of G-d. That is why the Shema prayer goes on to include the verse “and these words [i.e., the Torah], which I command you this day.” The Hebrew word for “I” in this verse is anochi, which implies a level of G-dliness so deep, as it were, that it cannot be expressed by any Divine name; G-d is simply “I.” The word for “[I] command you,” m’tzav’cha, implies connection, attachment. The verse is thus saying that through “these words [of Torah],” you are literally connected and attached to, not merely G-d’s attribute of malchus, a relatively “superficial” manifestation of G-dliness, but that lofty and inexpressible level of G-d’s “personal” Self (allegorically speaking) that can only be referred to as “I.” This can only be accomplished “this day” – i.e., in this life, wherein we have the opportunity to study Torah and perform mitzvos.

That is another aspect of what is meant by the feeling that the Torah is fresh and new “every day”: that through the entirety of “this day,” that is, our present, worldly life, one should value the Torah and mitzvos because they represent one’s opportunity to break free of the boundaries and limitations of this world and the entire fixed order of spiritual progression and link up with the transcendence of G-d.

This also sheds light on the Shema’s exhortation to “love G-d your G-d with all your hearts.” The plural (“hearts”) is used instead of the singular, despite the singular context of the rest of the verse, a fact which our sages explain (see B’rachos 54a; Sifri ch. 32) as meaning that one should love G-d with both chambers of one’s heart. Jewish philosophy associates the right chamber of the heart with joy and the left chamber with bitterness and regret. In that light, the verse means that one should love G-d to the point that the true recognition that “G-d” is “your G-d” – that is, that the lofty spiritual level associated with the Divine name Havaye (the first word used in the verse for “G-d”) should be so close to you that you relate to G-d on this level as Elokecha (the second word for “G-d”); your own, personal G-d – should be expressed in both extremes of your emotions: bitterness over the recognition of how low one is mired in this physical world and its temptations, and at the same time, joy over the priceless opportunity to transcend all that through Torah and mitzvos. And the greater the bitterness one feels over distance from G-d, the greater the joy at the revelation of G-dliness though mitzvos.

(Although the full revelation of G-dliness inherent within mitzvos will not be apparent until the future, one can still rejoice, just as someone would who possesses a closed treasure chest full of precious jewels. He or she may not see the jewels, but still rejoices over having them.)

Now, everything we have said above is the way things ought to be: one’s bitter feelings should be over distance from G-d and one’s joy should be over attachment to Him. What can one do, however, if one’s emotions are not that well “trained”? What, in other words, about most of us – whose bitter regrets and sadness concern not having enough worldly satisfaction (not necessarily from forbidden things (G-d forbid), but even in such important matters as family, health and food), and whose joys are because they do have those things?

That situation is considered “exile” for the spark of Divinity within each of us: our G-dly souls are “captive” to our animal souls. This essential spark of G-d in every Jew is termed “Zion,” since this word means a “sign” (see Ezekiel 39:15; also Zohar I, 225a): it is the focal point and sign of the Jew’s very essence. This, then, is the meaning of the verse, “Zion will be redeemed with justice, and her returnees with charity.”

“Justice” – mishpat in Hebrew – refers to the laws (halachos) of the Torah and its mitzvos, as seen from the translation by the classic Aramaic translator Onkelos of the verse (Genesis 40:13), “kamishpat harishon” as “k’hilchasa kamaisa.” That is, through “justice” – studying the exact requirements, halachos, of the Torah’s mitzvos – “Zion” – the inner point of G-dliness within us, motivating the natural love for G-d hidden within each Jew’s heart – will be redeemed from its exile within our animal souls. This is in accordance with the teaching of our sages (Vayikra Rabba 7:3), “the exiles would not be gathered in but for the merit of mishnah study [which embodies the halachos].”

The next part of the verse, “and her returnees with charity,” can also be read “and her captives with charity,” since the Hebrew words are cognates. The “captives” are the two chambers of the heart, whose emotions of bitterness and joy are, in their “exile” and “captivity” within the animal soul, misdirected to worldly matters. (Note, however, that the expression “captive” is not used with respect to “Zion,” the G-dly spark itself in the heart of each Jew, for this cannot be captive.) These are redeemed with charity, since charity involves compassion on those less fortunate. Our treating others with compassion leads G-d, in turn, to treat us with compassion, as we pray (in the introductory blessing to the Shema), “have compassion upon us and place understanding within our hearts” – so that their two chambers will then, so to speak, realize what are the fitting objects of their emotions, i.e., G-dly as opposed to worldly concerns.

Finally, we said earlier that our objective is to achieve not merely hoda’ah, recognition “from a distance” and as an article of faith, but that internalized, pervasive realization of G-dliness that is associated with the concept of b’racha, blessing, or drawing down from above. This level is identified with Zion (the very inner point of the heart, deeper than conscious love), as it is written (Psalms 133:3), “… like the dew of Chermon that descends upon the mountains of Zion; for there G-d has directed the blessing….” Now, the Torah itself involves that same “drawing down” represented by blessing. This is because, in accordance with the well known teaching (Zohar II, 121a; see there also at 85a) that “the Torah comes forth from [G-d’s] wisdom,” the Torah stems from an utterly inscrutable level of holiness, and in order for it to be expressed for us in a manner we can relate to, it must be drawn forth in the manner of b’racha. It is therefore specifically “Zion,” associated as it is with b’racha, that is redeemed through mishpat, i.e., studying the halachos of the Torah, which is also associated with b’racha.

May G-d, in His mercy, grant that “Zion will be redeemed with justice and her returnees with charity,” especially in the plainest, most simple sense, i.e., the immediate rebuilding of our Holy Temple and the end of all exile, and may these days be transformed into rejoicing and happiness right now!

Ó 2002 Yitzchok D. Wagshul. Please note that the foregoing is an informal adaptation by a private person, and that, therefore, errors are possible. Also, the Hebrew original contains much more than could possibly be presented here, and constitutes a much more direct transmission of the Alter Rebbe’s teachings. Furthermore, the adaptation may contain supplementary or explanatory material not in the original, and not marked as such in any way. Thus, for those with the ability to learn in the original, this adaptation should not be considered a substitute for the maamar. Good Shabbos!

VaEschanan

V’Ahavta Eis Havaye Elokecha, etc.

____________________________

One of the best-known passages in the Torah is found in this week’s Torah portion (Deuteronomy 6:4): “Hear, O Israel, G-d is our G-d; G-d is One.” This all-important verse – in which the Hebrew names for “G-d” are, respectively, the Tetragrammaton (which is so holy it is forbidden to be pronounced, and which is therefore pronounced Hashem or (more precisely) Haveye except during prayer or formal Torah reading); Elokeinu (meaning “our Elokim,” or “our G-d”); and Hashem or Havaye again – is possibly as famous in the original as it is in English: Shema Yisroel, Hashem Elokeinu, Hashem Echad. It and the immediately following verses (5-9), together with other passages to be discussed below, are so central to our religion generally, and to our personal worship in particular, that recitation of the Shema is the focal point of our daily prayer service.

The Shema prayer actually consists of the verse Shema Yisroel itself, followed by the statement, “Blessed is the name of His glorious kingdom forever and ever.” We then recite the rest of the passage (Deuteronomy 6:5-9), which begins, “And you shall love Havaye Elokecha (“G-d, your G-d”) with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might.” This first portion of the Shema prayer is sometimes referred to by its initial Hebrew word, ve’ahavta (“and you shall love”). Following this, we go on to recite a passage (Deuteronomy 11:13-21) whose main theme is reward and punishment: “And it shall be, that if you hearken diligently to My commandments, which I command you this day, to love G-d your G-d and to serve Him with all your heart and with all your soul, then I will give you the rain of your land in its due season … that you may eat and be satisfied. Take heed for yourselves lest your heart be seduced, and you turn aside and worship other gods and bow down to them. [Then] G-d’s anger will be kindled against you, and He will shut up the heaven and there will be no rain, and the land will not give its fruit….” This second passage of the Shema prayer is referred to by its initial Hebrew words, v’haya im shamo’a (“and it shall be, that if you hearken”).

(There is also a third passage to the Shema prayer. However, the above are considered the main portions.)

Jewish mysticism teaches that G-d’s holy names express specific aspects of G-d, much as a person might be called “the wise one” to express that aspect of his or her personality, or “the kind one” to express that particular aspect. In addition to such descriptive, or “adjectival” references to G-d as Omnipresent or Allmighty, the Kabbalah refers to several Divine Names comprised of various amounts of words or letters. Two of these are the “Name of 42” (identified with the prayer Ana B’Cho’ach, which contains 42 words), and the “Name of 72.” The Name of 42 is associated with G-d’s attribute of g’vurah, strength or restraint, the tendency of which is not to give forth but to withhold; not to smudge over the boundaries between things and thereby allow them to meld and blend together, but to sharply distinguish and enforce the lines separating one thing from another. The Name of 72, on the other hand, is associated with G-d’s attribute of chesed, kindness, the tendency of which is in fact to give forth unreservedly.

Now, the first passage of the Shema (from the word “ve’ahavta” (“and you shall love”) through the word “u’vish’arecha” (“and in your gates”)) contains 42 words. This corresponds to the Divine Name of 42. The second passage, however, is associated with the Divine Name of 72. This is counterintuitive, because the theme of the first passage, v’ahavta, is clearly love of G-d – this seems more appropriate to the Name of 72 and the Divine attribute of chesed than to the Name of 42, associated as that is with the Divine attribute of g’vurah. Conversely, the second passage, v’haya im shamo’a, expressly states “If you do good, you will be rewarded, but if you sin you will be punished” – a theme that certainly seems more suited to the Name of 42 than to the name of 72.

This matter may be understood in accordance with the statement of the Zohar that the “lights” change places, so that “left” becomes included in “right.” A common metaphor in mystical literature is that of G-dly emanations or revelations as “light” which are so bright, so powerful, that they must be contained within “vessels,” through which we can perceive and withstand their influence. The Divine attribute of chesed is associated with the right side, and the attribute of g’vurah with the left. Thus, the above Kabbalistic teaching means simply that it is possible for the light suited for one vessel to “change places” and express itself through a different vessel, so that, for example, the light of chesed is expressed through the vessel of g’vurah and the light of g’vurah through the vessel of chesed. (See the adaptation of the discourse Erda Na on the Torah portion Vayeira, where the concept of oros and keilim – lights and vessels – is explained in a different context.)

The Shema prayer is an example of this: the first passage, outwardly dealing with love of G-d (a function of chesed) has an underlying, inner aspect of g’vurah, as seen from its association with the Name of 42. The second passage, outwardly dealing with strict justice and punishment (a function of g’vurah) nevertheless has an underlying, inner aspect of chesed, and is associated with the Name of 72.

Yet the above is only a superficial explanation, for we have not yet explained what these underlying, inner aspects of the Shema passages are.

To do so, we must first discuss the Kabbalistic teaching (Zohar I, 18b) that the first verse of the Shema (“Hear, O Israel…”) involves yichuda ilah, “higher-order unification,” while the next sentence (“Blessed is the name…”) involves yichuda tatah, “lower-order unification.”

The concept of “unification” should not be misunderstood. G-d Himself needs no “unification,” since He is by definition One and indivisible; His existence is the only true existence, so that there is very literally nothing else but Him. However, it arose in G-d’s will to create our physical world, in which things appear, to us at least, to exist in their own right, and consequently, we limited beings cannot see things as they truly are: that is, absolutely non-existent in their own right and utterly included within G-d’s all-encompassing unity.

What is more, G-d did not create our physical world directly; it would simply not have been able to endure direct exposure to G-d’s creative life-force. Instead, G-d channeled His life-force into the universe through a series of successively less spiritual stages, until the point at which even a completely physical world could come into being. (As explained elsewhere, these countless intermediate stages can be broadly divided into the four spiritual realms of Atzilus, Beriah, Yetzirah and Asiyah, each of which contain the ten progressively lower manifestations of G-dliness known as the ten sefiros, or Divine attributes. Of these, chochmah (“wisdom,” or the faculty into which new ideas spring into consciousness seemingly from nowhere) is the highest, and malchus (“sovereignty”) is the lowest, so that, in a general sense, the most sublime spiritual level in the “hierarchy” is chochmah within the realm of Atzilus, and the relatively lowest level is malchus of the realm of Asiyah.)

Not only to us mortals does it appear that we possess an existence of our own, but also each stage of this spiritual hierarchy appears to allow for the existence of that stage, i.e., even these lofty spiritual levels cannot appreciate the true perspective – G-d’s perspective – on the universe: that there is just nothing else, physical or spiritual, but G-d. The higher the spiritual level, the more apparent it is, to be sure, that that level and all it contains (e.g., angels or souls) are nothing outside of G-d Himself; nevertheless, if a given level were truly and completely able to see that, it could not, by definition, exist.

In a general sense, we can say that the spiritual realm of Atzilus is characterized by such an open and pervasive manifestation of G-dliness that it really can be said to possess no independent existence outside of G-d, and is therefore itself G-dly. In Atzilus, there can be no perception of “independent” existence; Atzilus is one with G-d even according to our perception. By contrast, the successively lower levels of Beriah, Yetzirah and Asiyah cannot be called “G-dly”; they must be thought of as mere creations.

Now, from G-d’s perspective, none of the above is relevant; G-d is One and the same whether in the highest spiritual realm or this lowest physical world. The entire hierarchy exists merely to conceal more and more of G-d’s omnipresence from our perspective until a physical world (in which G-d’s presence – which is still fully here whether we see it or not – is totally concealed) can come into being, resulting in existence as we know it. The purpose of all this is so that we Jews can express G-d’s sovereignty even under conditions where it is not at all apparent, by ignoring the temptations of this physical world and instead submitting to G-d’s will by studying Torah and performing mitzvos. By doing so, we reveal more and more G-dliness, not only in this world, but throughout all the levels of the hierarchy.

Thus, “unification” can have two meanings. One is that, by suffusing the universe – at each stage of the spiritual hierarchy – with G-dly light (through Torah study and mitzvah performance), we actually cause each stage to rise to a higher spiritual level, since it now perceives G-d’s unity to a greater degree and therefore cannot remain as a “separate” level inconsistent with that unity. Put another way, assume the apparent existence of level Y is a result of its inability to realize that there is a higher level, level X, above it, whose influence in fact permeates and sustains level Y but in a manner imperceptible to level Y. Once the existence of level X is revealed to level Y, however; once the influence of X becomes manifest and apparent throughout level Y; there is no longer any level Y. Its entire existence was due to the lack of perception of level X, and when that is removed, level Y simply becomes level X. This type of unity is a true unity, in that the lower level has literally ceased to exist and is now united with the higher. When this happens in the sense that the created universe – spiritual as well as physical – is elevated to the point of utter absorption into G-d’s all-encompassing unity, so that there truly is nothing else but Him, it is known as yichuda ilah, “higher-order unification.”

There is a lower form of unity as well. This is the state in which we are aware of ourselves as independent beings; we have not yet attained the level of utter bitul, or nullity before G-d, at which we lose all sense of self and are simply absorbed into G-d; yet we subjugate ourselves absolutely to G-d and negate our own wills before His. Here, too, there is but One Will active in the universe; not, however, because we have ceased to exist, but because we utterly defer to G-d. This is known as yichuda tatah, “lower-order unification.”

In sum: “higher-order unification” means that nothing exists but G-d; “lower-order unification” means that whatever exists is as nothing before G-d. The term “unification” refers to our bringing about in ourselves and in the universe in general, an awareness and manifestation of G-d’s unity – but in actual fact, this unity is the true state of affairs all along.

Having said all the above, we can now return to our analysis of the Shema.

The great Kabbalist Rabbi Yitzchok Luria (known as the Ari, of blessed memory), explains that in the first verse of the Shema, the juxtaposition of the Divine names in the phrase, “G-d is our G-d,” Havaye Elokeinu, represents the Divine light transmitted into the sefiros, or attributes, of chochmah and bina (“understanding”) within the realm of Atzilus.

Creation is described as yesh me’ayin, something from nothing, because it all comes from G-d, Who is utterly unknowable and unreachable and can, in a sense, therefore only be described as “Nothingness.” Chochmah, the highest of the ten sefiros, is so called because, like the human conceptual faculty, which is the highest of our faculties and seems to somehow beget new ideas out of nowhere, chochmah is the spiritual pinnacle of the created universe, above which is the Creator – the ultimate Ayin, or “Nothingness.” This is hinted at by the verse (Job 28:12), “From whence shall chochmah [wisdom] be found,” which can also be understood to mean, “chochmah will be found [to come] from ayin [‘nothingness’].” The first stage (in our context) of creation is the transmission of G-d’s “light,” or creative life-force, from that unknowable level of ayin – which “light” is called the Or Ein Sof, the “light of the Infinite One” – into the spiritual level of chochmah of Atzilus.

Only chochmah can contain the G-dly life-force of the Or Ein Sof within itself, because G-d does not manifest Himself in a place where His Unity is not recognized as absolute. Only chochmah is characterized by that quality of bitul, utter nullity of self, that is required for G-d to manifest Himself, much as a person’s faculty of chochmah is not a functioning intellectual faculty in its own right (as is, for example, the next lower stage, bina, or “understanding”), but is merely a receptacle for the flashes of insight which will spring up within it.

And just as the “germ of an idea” that flashes into chochmah is then transmitted to the next stage in the intellectual process – bina – which expands upon that point of insight and fleshes it out until it is understood, so does the spiritual “spark” of G-dliness that was invested within chochmah then proceed to the spiritual level called bina, where, however, it is no longer directly manifest within bina (since bina and all following levels are not utterly null but have some existence and function of their own), but is perceptible only to the extent it is found within that aspect of chochmah which was transmitted into bina. (Bina, in turn, next manifests itself – including the aspect of chochmah inherent within it – within the next lower level, which itself manifests itself within the next, and so on. This is the way the G-dly life-force is transmitted throughout all levels of creation, to the point where even the lowest level in the realm of Asiyah contains within it, albeit in a much more hidden way, that selfsame “spark” of G-d’s light – the Or Ein Sof – which is contained within chochmah of Atzilus.)

It will be understood from the above that chochmah of Atzilus is the point at which the G-dly creative force from the level of ayin is first invested within the universe. Chochmah of Atzilus, therefore, is the first expression of creation yesh me’ayin, something from nothing. Chochmah itself, however, is not fully an instance of yesh – “something” – since it is nothing more than a receptacle for ayin – “nothingness.” There is no question, though, that the next level after chochmah, i.e., bina, may be considered yesh, something, created out of the ayin inherent within chochmah.

(This “creation out of nothing” must be a constant, unceasing phenomenon. Since no creation possesses independent existence, were the Or Ein Sof, the G-dly creative force invested within creation, to cease even for an instant, all of creation would not only cease to exist, but in fact (since time itself is nothing but a creation of G-d which would then lose its existence) would never have been created at all, exactly as things were prior to the Biblical six days of creation. The fact that the Or Ein Sof constantly “flows,” as it were, into creation is alluded to by the verse (Genesis 2:10), “And a river flows out of Eden, to water the garden.” The use of the present tense (“flows”) is used instead of the expected past tense (“flowed”), because it refers to the necessarily unceasing transmission of G-dly creative energy from ayin (symbolized by chochmah) to yesh (symbolized by bina). The concept that not only the creation of the physical world needs constant renewal, but so also does that of even the most sublime spiritual levels, is likewise hinted at by the verse (Genesis 2:3), “which G-d created, to do.” The Hebrew word for “created,” bara, denotes creation out of nothing; this alludes to creation of the spiritual realms. The word “to do,” implying this physical world of deed and action, alludes to creation out of nothing, even in the physical sense.)

According to the Ari Zal, then, this is the mystical significance of the first verse of the Shema: the words Havaye Elokeinu in this verse contain the power to unlock the spiritual forces by which the entire universe—the entire hierarchy of creation, spiritual realms as well as physical—comes into being out of G-d’s utter “nothingness,” so to speak. “Havaye” represents the Ayin—“nothingness”—of G-d’s very Self, as embodied within the attribute of chochma of Atzilus; “Elokeinu” represents bina of Atzilus, the next lower level, after chochma, of Divine manifestation and the point at which creation is no longer identifiable (as is chochmah) with the Ayin of G-d’s very Self, but definitively termed “yesh”—“something”; and the juxtaposition of these names—Havaye [is] Elokeinu—alludes to the unification of the two: the transmission even into bina (yesh) of the sublime and transcendent G-dliness that is contained within chochma (Ayin), to the point that Havaye actually IS Elokeinu.

Now, this is crucial: we said that creation of “something”—even the most sublime spiritual levels, as discussed above—out of nothing is a continuous process; the Divine life-force must be transmitted into the universe unceasingly. At the first instant of creation, G-d initiated this process on His own; humankind, which had yet to be created, could not have done anything to “deserve” or elicit it. Yet from then on, G-d expects us to participate in this spiritual dynamic: we must do our part by acting in such a way as to merit the continued existence of the universe. This is accomplished through Torah study and mitzvah observance.

The above is why the words “Shema Yisroel”—Hear, O Israel—precede the words Havaye Elokeinu. This first phrase represents the prerequisite for G-dliness to flow from “Ayin” to “Yesh,” that is, Jewish effort to first raise ourselves and the rest of creation up to G-d.

It is explained elsewhere (see, e.g., the adaptation of the discourse V’Hinei Anachnu M’Almim Alumim on the Torah portion Vayeishev) that, in a mystical sense, the spiritual accomplishment of mitzvah observance is that, by using the physical objects of this world in the service of G-d (for example, by putting on T’fillin—made of cowhide—or by eating kosher food), we extract the “spark of G-dliness” embedded within that physical substance and elevate it to a higher spiritual level. The Kabbalah teaches that there are a total of 288 such “sparks” (in a broad sense, for the 288 can be further divided into countless fragments, as explained elsewhere). These are elevated into holiness through the power of the Divine “Name of 52,” associated with G-d’s attribute of Sovereignty. The point of all this, in our context, is that the Hebrew word “shema” alludes to the above. This is because, by the grammatical principle of gematria, the first two letters of the word, “s­hema”—the Hebrew letters shin and mem—are numerically equivalent to 340 -- which is the sum of 288 and 52. The third and final letter of the word “shema,” the Hebrew letter ayin, has a value of 70. An additional feature of this letter of the word “shema” is that, in a Torah scroll, tradition requires that it be written larger than the surrounding letters. To understand why the numerical value and the size of this letter are meaningful in our context, we must first understand the following:

The “structure” of the Jewish soul parallels that of the spiritual hierarchy mentioned above: the highest faculty of the soul is termed “chochmah,” the next lower, “bina,” and so on down through “malchus”—exactly as in the spiritual realms.

By going about our business in this physical world, performing mitzvos every step of the way, we Jews liberate the abovementioned 288 sparks of G-dliness from being “stuck,” as it were, in this mundane realm, and elevate them back to their heavenly source. Technically, they are elevated through the spiritual hierarchy of the three lower realms (B’riah, Yetzirah, and Asiyah) until they reach the lowest level (malchus) of the exalted realm of Atzilus. This point—malchus of Atzilus—is the point from which the 288 sparks were “launched,” as it were, into the lower realms, and is thus considered their spiritual source (even though, to be sure, the 288 sparks originated on an even loftier plane before being sent from malchus into the lower worlds).

Perhaps it would help to think of malchus as a dock from which ships depart to sea. Vessels at sea all started out at the dock, but of course, before coming to that launching point, all the passengers and luggage were at their respective homes. The true origin of any given passenger is not the dock, but the house in the hills (let us say) from which he or she set out on the journey. (In fact, we can go further back and say that the person’s origin was even prior to that: we may trace them all the way back through their childhood into the womb if we wish to go that far. This illustrates that spiritual levels, too, can be described as “originating” at some point or other, but in fact, this depends on the context. For the true, ultimate origin of all, spiritual as well as material, regardless of the paths they traversed from that point onward, is in G-d’s own Self.)

Now, malchus of Atzilus is identified with the Divine Name of 52. Thus, the process which has just been described is hinted at by the first two letters—shin and mem—of the word “shema,” for, as mentioned, these letters have the combined value of 340, which equals 288 plus 52. In other words, these letters symbolize our successful fulfillment of our task in this world: to perform mitzvos and raise the universe up to its spiritual origin.

And yet, it doesn’t stop there. From malchus of Atzilus, the 288 sparks are raised even further, up to their antecedent source, which is the spiritual attribute of bina. This level is symbolized by the third letter of the word “shema,” the letter ayin.

The letter ayin is numerically equivalent to 70. This parallels the seven “emotional” attributes of the spiritual hierarchy (these being chesed, g’vurah, tiferes, netzach, hod, y’sod, and malchus), each of which is a composite of all ten attributes (the seven so-called emotional” attributes themselves plus the three “intellectual” attributes of chochma, bina, and da’as). In other words, the highest individual level of the “emotional” attributes is “chochma of chesed,” followed by “bina of chesed,” and so on down through “y’sod of malchus” and, finally, “malchus of malchus.” Altogether, there are 70 such individual levels to the G-dly attributes, and it is to these that the letter ayin alludes.

At this point, we can benefit from comparison to our own attributes, which, as noted, parallel the ten sefiros—G-d’s attributes, so to speak. Intellectually, it is possible to conceive of any given emotion as an abstract ideal: we know what “love” ought to be, or what “awe” ought to be. In practice, however, a person seldom realizes the ideal manifestation of any emotional attribute; they are usually diminished by our own failings (selfish feelings may interfere with unreserved love, for example) or by the constraints of corporeal existence. For this reason, when we speak of the emotional attributes as they are expressed in practice, we refer to them (collectively) as z’eir anpin, a Kabbalistic term meaning “small (or “diminished”) face: the face we show to the world in practice is but a miniature reflection of those “ideal” attributes which we are only capable of understanding intellectually, in theory, as it were.

Similar to what was discussed above about each stage originating in a still prior stage, we may therefore say that the intellectual attribute of bina (“understanding”) is the spiritual source of the attributes within z’eir anpin (abbreviated as “z.a.” and pronounced, “za”). The attributes as they exist within bina are “larger than life,” as the saying goes: they are the full, undiminished expressions of each sefirah, “larger” and more complete than could be expressed in practice. This is the mystical significance of the fact that the letter ayin of the word “shema” must be written (in a Torah scroll) in a large format. It symbolizes the 70 individual levels of za as they are found after being elevated up to their own source in bina.

To summarize: the word “shema” symbolizes the initiative taken by us Jews in our relationship with G-d. We cannot expect G-d to channel His creative life-force into the universe without our first eliciting this wonderful result by performing mitzvos—which elevate the 288 sparks of G-dliness up to their spiritual source in the Name of 52 (associated with malchus of Atzilus). From there, G-d “helps us out,” further lifting them to their even deeper source in bina of Atzilus.

Another reason this dynamic is expressed by the word “shema” is as follows:

The letters shin and mem of “shema” spell the Hebrew word for “name” (shem). As explained elsewhere, the concept of a “name” is not at all the same as the actual thing named. That is, the name “Jack” is a useful tool by which to refer to the named person, but everyone understands that the actual person “Jack” is in no way “contained” by, or otherwise connected in any way to, his name. This fact is why we usually associate the sefirah of malchus with G-d’s “name,” so to speak. The entirety of creation, spiritual as well as physical, was brought into being by means of G-d’s attribute of malchus, which itself is nothing whatsoever in comparison with G-d. Malchus is nothing more than G-d’s “name,” not G-d Himself. Thus, for all its grandeur, all its wonder, all the awe we feel from contemplating the greatness of creation, the entire universe is not even a reflection of G-d’s Self, as it were, but only His “name.”

On a more exalted level, though, we may apply the same concept even to the spiritual levels of the realm of Atzilus, which are usually associated with G-d Himself. For in truth, all such comparisons and associations are relative to our mortal understanding; when you get right down to it, as far as G-d’s “Self” is concerned, there’s no room for anything to be “associated with” Him. G-d is G-d. Any concept other than G-d, plain and simple, is just not G-d, and is utterly insignificant next to Him. From this perspective, even the loftiest levels of Atzilus (which are spiritually superior to malchus) are really as nothing, in comparison with G-d Himself. In this context, we apply the metaphoric symbol “name” to the spiritual level that is the very source of Atzilus itself—that inconceivably exalted level known as Kesser (“crown”). As the intermediate level between the Infinite One Himself (the Or Ein Sof) and creation, Kesser, like malchus, is not “G-d”—it is only His “name,” as it were, not Him Himself.

As applied to what we have been discussing, the word “shema” also alludes to this. The shin and the mem spell shem (“name”), a reference to Kesser, because the sparks of holiness we have raised, through mitzvos, to the level of malchus are then further “boosted” up to their superior source in bina by no less a potent spiritual force than Kesser itself.

And still—that is not the end of it. For above bina stands one higher sefirah, that of chochma. The word “shema” in the phrase “shema Yisroel” (“Hear, O Israel”), represents elevation to the level of bina, but the word “Yisroel” symbolizes an even further elevation, all the way up to the first sefirah, chochma. This is because the letters aleph and lamed contained within the name “Yisroel” spell the name of G-d that is mystically associated with the attribute of chochma. (Because of its holiness, this Divine name is pronounced “Kel” (i.e., not its true pronunciation) outside the context of prayer or public Torah reading.) The entire word “Yisroel” can be read an anagram for the phrase “shir Kel” (song of Kel).

We may sum up this part of the discussion by saying that the phrase Havaye Elokeinu (“G-d is our G-d”) in the Shema prayer represents the continuous flow of G-dliness into the universe in a manner of creation of “something” out of “nothing.” G-d’s very Self, as it were, is the “Nothing” that is the Source of all “something,” and is manifest (as was explained earlier) only within the sefirah of chochma, which is represented by the Divine name Havaye. From there, the G-dly life-force proceeds into the created universe (“something”) by way of the sefirah of bina, represented by the name Elokeinu. Yet this continuous bestowal by G-d of existence upon the universe depends upon us Jews. We must first elicit it by performing G-d’s mitzvos, which raise the G-dliness inherent within creation (the 288 sparks of holiness) up unto its spiritual source—as symbolized by the words “Shema Yisroel” and their placement before the words “Havaye Elokeinu.”

(Note that the G-dly attribute of chochma is invested within the Torah. Since it is only within chochma that G-d’s “light” is manifest in an inner, pervasive manner (as opposed to merely an outer, transcendent way), it is only by Torah study that we can draw G-d’s light within our very selves in such a thorough, pervasive manner (or p’nimi).)

The final phrase in the verse Shema Yisroel, Havaye Elokeinu, Havaye Echad—“Hear, O Israel, G-d is our G-d, G-d is One”—is Havaye Echad (“G-d is One”). Now, in a sense, it should be obvious that this phrase cannot (merely) refer to G-d being One, for there is, in fact, nothing but G-d—so what is the meaning of describing Him as “one”? It only makes sense to speak of something as “one” where there is the possibility for plurality. Then we can say that, instead of “many,” there is “one.” In the case of G-d, there is no possibility of any “other” (G-d forbid), so what do we mean by “G-d is ‘One’”? As a matter of fact, he is the ‘sole,’ the ‘only’—not merely ‘one’!

The explanation is that the description of G-d as “one” really applies to His attributes, the sefiros of chesed (kindness), g’vurah (might, restraint), and so on. What we mean is that although these attributes are seemingly opposites (for example, kindness and strict justice seem incompatible), G-d’s all-pervasive unity effectively renders them all insignificant and they do not stand in opposition to one another. As expressions of G-d, the sefiros are all one and the same; there is no room for plurality even on this level.

The above is the state of affairs in the heavenly realm of Atzilus: all is G-dliness, there is nothing else. The verse we recite immediately after the first verse of the Shema—that is, the statement “Blessed is the name of the glory of His kingdom for ever and ever”—alludes to the drawing down of this absolute unity as found within the realm of Atzilus even throughout the lower realms of B’riah, Y’tzirah, and Asiyah. This is so because the word “blessed” (baruch in Hebrew) connotes “drawing down,” and the word “olam” (“forever”) also means “world,” or “realm,” alluding to the drawing down of G-d’s unity throughout all realms, so that there is, indeed, nothing else but G-d even in the perception of those realms. Our sense of bitul—utter nullity and deference before G-d—should be so absolute that we achieve this perspective on reality.

This is the yichuda ilah, “higher-order unification,” which the Ari Zal taught was associated with the first verse of Shema: our perception of the truth of G-d’s unity and omnipresence is so real that in fact, we lose all independent existence before Him. Nothing exists, in the higher realms or the lower, but G-d Himself.

(Alternately, one can explain that yichuda ilah refers to the root source of the transmission of creation from “Nothing” into “something” (as explained above in connection with chochama and bina of Atzilus), while yichuda tatah, “lower-order unification,” refers to the transmission of “Nothingness” into “somethingness” as applied within the lower realms of B’riah, Y’tzirah, and Asiyah—even to the point where “Nothingness” is manifest in the physical “something” of our earthly world.)

[To be completed shortly, G-d willing. Please check back with LikuteiTorah.com in an hour or two. © 2004 Yitzchok D. Wagshul.]

B”H

Eikev

Eretz Harim U’vkaos

An adaptation of the Maamar found in Likutei Torah

___________________________

The wording of the verse (Deuteronomy 11:11), “[The Promised Land is] a land of mountains and valleys; from the rain of heaven [she] drinks water” affords us a glimpse at the symbolism of the earth’s topography, as well as insight into the reciprocal nature of our relationship with G-d.

Two grammatical points must be made by way of preface:

First, the Hebrew word used in the above verse for “from the rain” is lim’tar. This actually means “to the rain,” or “for the rain,” not “from the rain,” which would be mim’tar. As the verse can only be understood sensibly with the meaning “from the rain,” the question may be asked, what is the Torah hinting to us by using an expression that literally means “for the rain”?

Second, the Hebrew for “[she (i.e., the land)] drinks water” is tishteh, which, by the rules of Hebrew grammar, is technically in the future tense, and can be understood as either the second-person masculine (“you shall drink”) or the third-person feminine (“she [or ‘it’] shall drink”). Furthermore, the Hebrew second-person future (“you shall drink”) is also used to indicate that type of future that expresses a wish, as in, “you should drink,” or “may you drink.” Thus, the word tishteh is susceptible to two meanings: it can be understood, consistent with the plain meaning of the verse, as referring to the land of Israel (which is considered feminine), or it could be interpreted as a blessing directed at the Jewish people: “you should drink water from the rain of heaven.”

The combination of the above grammatical points imparts an alternate, yet completely literal and correct, meaning to the verse: “for the rain of heaven, you should drink water.” What is the message of this alternate reading?

The answer lies in the principle of ratzoh v’shov, “running and returning,” which in our context refers to the reciprocal relationship we have with G-d: when we reach out to G-d (the “running forth” to Him), He responds by coming closer to us (the “return”).

To appreciate how this plays out, lets us consider the difference between g’dulah, or “greatness,” and chesed, “kindness.” The two are closely related, for “greatness” refers to that aspect of the benefactor that motivates him or her to do “kindness” towards another. However, greatness per se is an attribute of the benefactor – prior to the point of expression in acts of kindness. At the point of kindness, there is, paradoxically, an aspect of humility involved – the opposite of greatness. This is because kindness means giving to another, and the question is, will the person give selflessly, altruistically – without regard for his or her own interests; or will they give only superficially, just enough to be considered “giving,” but not enough to really detract from what they have? True chesed is altruistic kindness, without thought of self. For this reason, what originates as an element of substance, power, wealth – i.e., g’dulah or “greatness” – is actually expressed as something involving selflessness and negation of ego: chesed, which in its pure form requires the utter humility and selflessness that allows one to give one’s all.

This “switch” or changeover from one aspect to its opposite is compared to a signet stamp, in that such a stamp is made so that what protrudes from its surface is impressed into the wax or whatever it is stamping, leaving a corresponding indentation. In this case, it is as though the attribute of g’dulah is the protrusion that is mirrored in the indentation of chesed.

Now, consistent with the above, our patriarch Abraham (who, as explained elsewhere, epitomized the attribute of kindness), exhibited also the utmost humility and negation of ego, as it is written of him (Genesis 18:27), “I am but dust and ashes.” This quality is comparable to water, which has the nature of always flowing to the lowest point, for chesed involves both viewing oneself as “low” or selfless, and also generously giving forth to benefit those even lower, in greater need.

There is also an element of “fire” to chesed: the attribute of kindness is considered the source of the emotion of love. The love of a Jewish person for G-d is a fiery love which leaps and strains upward in its striving for closeness to G-d as a flame leaps free of its wick, as it is written (Song of Songs 8:6), “its coals [i.e., of the Jew’s love for G-d] are coals of fire.” The soul simply yearns to break free of its earthy mooring and be reabsorbed into G-d’s oneness, even though this would involve foregoing its existence as a seemingly independent entity.

We therefore see here the opposite dynamic: The “metamorphosis” of g’dulah into chesed (a quality characterized by “substantiality” and “existence” – as in the “greatness” of G-d – ending up being expressed as “selflessness” and “non-existence” – the humility of one who emulates Him and does kindness) discussed above begins from above (with G-d) and is expressed below, like water flowing downward. By contrast, the Jew’s burning love for G-d and resulting desire to lose oneself completely in Him, though also involving the “switch” from “something” to “nothingness,” is initiated down below, with our love, and is directed upwards to G-d, like a flame leaping heavenward.

This, too, is like a seal whose substance (the protrusion) is expressed in lack of substance (the impression or indentation). However, one may say that the first “seal” was positioned with the protrusion above and the impression below, while the second “seal” has the protrusion below and the impression above.

Every detail of the universe expresses G-dliness and spiritual concepts. The above ideas are likewise embodied in physical things. The fiery love for G-d, the reaching and striving towards the heights of heaven, is symbolized by mountains, which rise heavenward. They are the protrusions of the earth, whose impressions are left above. (Abraham was, in fact, referred to as a “mountain”; see P’sachim 88a.) On the other hand, valleys represent that quality of lowliness and humility, making oneself as naught, which is the hallmark of true chesed; they are the indentation left by the imprint of the protrusion from above.

That is the inner meaning of the verse “It is a land of mountains and valleys.” The term “land” (eretz) is used in mystical literature to describe k’nesses Yisroel, the collective community of Jewish souls. The verse is thus telling us that the Jewish people (“eretz”) is comprised of both elements: mountains – the fiery love for G-d likened to the seal whose protrusion is from below – and valleys – the selflessness and humility likened to a seal whose indentation is below.

And the reason the plural – mountains and valleys – is used in this context is because there are several degrees of “mountain,” or love for G-d (love with joyful performance of mitzvos, love tinged with bitterness at one’s distance from G-d, etc.), and several degrees of fear of G-d and nullifying oneself before Him (explained elsewhere as yirah tatah, lower-order fear, and yirah ilah, higher-order fear, etc.).

Now, as noted above, G-d responds in kind to our efforts to relate to Him. Using the metaphor of the signet, our approaching G-d with love – like a seal protruding from below – elicits a response on the order of the corresponding impression above, while our approaching G-d with fear – like the seal whose impression is below – elicits a response comparable to the protrusion above. And in fact, the Divine response to our “indentation” – that is, when we approach G-d with humility and selfless kindness towards others – is greater than the response we merit by approaching G-d with love. This is because our worship with love is follows the “model” of our being “something” and G-d being “nothing,” like the protrusion from below that elicits a response characterized by “indentation” or lack of substance above; while if we start with humility – our own “nothingness” – we get a response from the level of G-d’s “substantiality,” i.e., the revelation of the Or Ein Sof – G-d’s infinite light – unrestrained by any concealing elements.

This, then, is the deeper meaning hinted at by the wording, “for the rain of heaven, you should drink water.” The expression m’tar hashamayim, the “rain of heaven,” is a reference to the great and substantial Divine response that can only be elicited by our worship, comparable to water that flows always to the lowest point, with humility and self-nullification. “For the rain of heaven,” that is, in order to bring about this type of heavenly response, “you should drink water,” in other words, your approach should be with humility and bitul (selflessness).

This is like a person who provides drink to another, in the hope that that person will then respond by offering the giver a drink. And it is possible to understand the sacrificial libations of the holiday of Succos along the same lines:

All throughout the year, the sacrifices offered in the holy temple were accompanied by the pouring of wine upon the altar. On the holiday of Succos, though, water was poured. The pouring of wine mystically represented the joy flowing from a revelation of G-d’s attribute of bina (“understanding”) which joy is associated, as explained above, with love of G-d – the protrusion from below. On the other hand, pouring water on the altar represented G-d’s attribute of chochmah (“wisdom”), which, as explained elsewhere, is characterized by utter bitul, selflessness. It therefore corresponds to the approach in which the indentation, or lack of self, is below. This order of worship on the Succos holiday results, on the immediately following holiday of Sh’mini Atzeres, in the true absorption and internalization of the revelation of the Or Ein Sof in the souls of the Jews – which is the mystical symbolism inherent in the recitation of the phrase morid ha-geshem (“He makes the rain fall”) beginning on Sh’mini Atzeres. That is, the rain falling symbolizes the great revelation brought about through the water-libation: “for the rain of heaven, you should drink water.”

This principle – that our relationship with G-d may be compared to a signet that switches the character of the letters or symbols from protruding to indented or vice versa – may also be used to understand the verse (Micah 7:18), “Who is a G-d like You, Who pardons sin … for the remnant of His heritage?” The sages of the Talmud (Rosh Hashanah 17a-b) interpret the phrase lish’eiris nachalaso, “for the remnant of His heritage,” as implying “for one who makes himself as excess (shirayim),” i.e., one who views him- or herself as utterly insignificant, as though one is merely excess or superfluous.

The meaning of this teaching is based on the fact that with respect to G-d Himself – G-d as the blessed Ein Sof, or “Infinite One” – the concept of “kindness” is inapplicable: G-d’s true infinity precludes the existence of anything else at all, and there is therefore nothing to be “kind” to. However, to the extent that, as explained above, g’dulah, “greatness” per se, is an attribute of the benefactor – prior to the point of expression in acts of kindness – we can still say that G-d the Infinite One is (infinitely) “great,” as we are told (Psalms 145:3), “His greatness is unsearchable.”

What is more, kindness as we know it – that is, once we are no longer speaking in terms of G-d’s exclusive existence as Ein Sof, and we allow for the creation of the universe (at least, from our perspective as mortals unable to perceive the truth of G-d as Ein Sof) – certainly comes from G-d, and thus, in a certain theoretical way at least, may be mentioned as “present” among G-d’s attributes. This is in accordance with the verses (Proverbs 16:15), “In the light of the King’s countenance is life,” and (Psalms 145:8), “[G-d is] slow to anger and of great kindness.” The Hebrew phrase “slow to anger” (erech apayim) is more literally translated “of long countenance,” an expression the profound mystical significance of which is beyond the scope of this adaptation. The meaning in our context, however, is that even within that lofty level of G-dliness termed “long, or great, countenance” we may identify a form of Divine kindness termed “great kindness.”

But all this is utterly inapplicable to created entities; it is all a function of G-d’s greatness, which implies “existence” and being “something.” For created beings, whose true nature is that of utter non-existence next to G-d, this is all irrelevant. (That is why the verse says (I Chronicles 29:11), “Yours [exclusively], O G-d, is the greatness, etc.”)

Yet, we do find such a thing as “kindness” in the created world, below. How did that come about? The answer is that, like the signet that changes the character of the symbols from something to nothingness, from protruding to indented, kindness is expressed in the lower world not as a function of “something,” but, as explained above, as a function of selflessness and altruism. That is why Abraham, the paradigm of chesed, kindness, in this world, said of himself “I am but dust and ashes,” and why Jacob likewise stated (Genesis 32:11), “I have become small from all the kindnesses.”

In sum, this switch from G-d’s attribute of “great kindness” to the worldly kindness we experience is elicited by our “making ourselves as excess,” by our acting with true humility and bitul. That is what acts as the “indented seal” from below that brings about the great revelation of G-dliness from above.

(The above explains why, in early Kabbalistic texts, G-d’s attribute of chesed is not called by that name, but rather is referred to as g’dulah, following the listing of attributes in the above-quoted verse, “Yours, O G-d, is the greatness (g’dulah), and the might (g’vurah), and the beauty (tiferes), etc.” It begins to be called chesed only with the work Eitz Chayim. This is because G-d’s “own” attribute (as it were) is, in fact, more properly called g’dulah, but the later works such as Eitz Chayim are speaking of the spiritual level of chesed as found within the “small countenance” (z’eir anpin, or “z.a.”) of the realm of Atzilus – a point at which the “switch” has already taken place: the keilim, or “vessels,” of z.a. are batul, as nothing, to G-d and one can therefore speak of chesed, which is characterized by bitul. By contrast, on the higher spiritual level of “great countenance,” (arich anpin) the attribute can only be referred to in terms of “great kindness,” since it is indeed an aspect of G-d’s infinite existence.)

Now, the concept of kindness is, seemingly, found also among those who are not humble and selfless. However, this is not true chesed. Rather, it is flawed, in that it is motivated by the opposite of altruism: the desire to enhance one’s “self,” the desire for glory and honor, like one who gives charity to build his or her reputation. Spiritually, this expression of kindness did not descend from G-d’s g’dulah, but from the “breaking of the vessels” of the “realm of chaos,” olam ha-tohu. It is thus also “broken,” and cannot lead to manifestation of G-d’s greatness upon us. By contrast, when we Jews shun this approach (associated with Abraham’s son, Ishmael) and instead practice kindness with true humility and selflessness (in the manner of our forefather Abraham), then, like the seal indented from below that reflects the substance and protrusion above, we actually draw upon ourselves G-d’s “own” attribute, that of g’dulah itself.

Ó 2002 Yitzchok D. Wagshul. Please note that the foregoing is an informal adaptation by a private person, and that, therefore, errors are possible. Also, the Hebrew original contains much more than could possibly be presented here, and constitutes a much more direct transmission of the Alter Rebbe’s teachings. Furthermore, the adaptation may contain supplementary or explanatory material not in the original, and not marked as such in any way. Thus, for those with the ability to learn in the original, this adaptation should not be considered a substitute for the maamar. Good Shabbos!

B”H

R’ei

Ani L’Dodi V’Dodi Li: Roshei Teivos Elul

A synopsis of the Maamar found in Likutei Torah

Summary

The Hebrew month of Elul is an exceptionally appropriate time to improve our relationship with G-d. This may be accomplished by striving to realize that holy concerns are all that matter, and by arousing pity on our soul, trapped in this mundane world. Torah study cements the strong relationship with G-d achieved by the foregoing.

___________________________

IT IS written (Song of Songs 6:3), "I am to my Beloved and my Beloved is to me." The initial letters of the four Hebrew words that make up this phrase spell the word "Elul," which is the name of the Hebrew month immediately preceding the High Holidays; this is an allusion to the fact that during this month, the Jewish People enjoys an especially close relationship with G-d, similar to that between two lovers.

The idea behind this is that Elul is an especially auspicious time for us Jews to try and bring ourselves closer to G-d. This is best accomplished when we take the initiative in our relationship with Him and work at cultivating our love for G-d, at our own spiritual improvement, etc.; then, during the High Holiday season which follows, G-d responds to our initiative by revealing His sovereignty over the universe. The heightened realization that G-d alone is King over all creation inspires an individual to a degree of awe and love for G-d not previously felt, a degree of closeness with G-d he or she may maintain throughout the year. It is this give-and-take relationship that is alluded to by the sequence of the clauses in our verse, in which the speaker is the Jewish People and G-d our symbolic "Beloved": "I am to my Beloved" (the first clause) refers to the Jews taking the first step in striving for closeness to our “Beloved"; only then "my Beloved is to me" — G-d reciprocates by renewing His Kingship over us.

This is the ideal way for the Jews to relate to G-d — one should always take the initiative (known in Hebrew as "arousal from below") that prompts Divine reciprocation ("arousal from above''), rather than wait for G-d to first inspire him or her.

Now, the reason why Elul is such a good time for us to improve our relationship with G-d is that in this month, the "thirteen attributes of Divine mercy" are especially prominent. (These are the thirteen attributes that G-d revealed to Moshe (Moses) when he was pleading for forgiveness on behalf of the Jews who had worshipped the golden calf (see Exodus 34:6). G-d showed Moshe how, by invoking these thirteen attributes, Divine mercy would be aroused, similar to the way one might prompt a wronged friend to forgive him or her by reminding the friend of that person’s well-known merciful qualities.) The thirteen attributes of mercy are a sublime spiritual level — an intrinsic part of G-d Himself, as it were — and are openly called into play on Yom Kippur (the Day of Atonement), so their revelation as well during the month of Elul indicates that G-d Himself really "takes to heart" the pleas of the Jews then.

This is better understood by means of an example. During Elul, G-d is compared to a king approaching his capital city at the end of a journey, when all the nation's subjects flock to the fields outlying the city to line the road the king will use. At this time, the king smiles and waves to the populace, and looks favorably not only upon noblemen and officers, but may smile just as benignly at a common peasant. When he reaches the palace, however, the king assumes a more regal aspect — his sovereignty is asserted anew — and only the highest ranking citizens can see him, by appointment. Similarly, like the king after his return to the palace, G-d sits in judgment on the Day of Atonement, when He utilizes the thirteen attributes to forgive the Jews, yet these same attributes are accessible to each and every single Jew, regardless of spiritual standing, throughout the month of Elul.

Why do we merit this wonderful revelation?

The great revelation of G-dliness inherent in the thirteen attributes of mercy comes to the individual through his or her first dedicating the very deepest aspects of his or her will to G-d: a person must contemplate on the inexpressible greatness of G-d, and on one’s own total insignificance by comparison, to the point where one truly realizes that any petty; material desires one may have are absolutely worthless; instead, the person knows that the only thing worth wanting is G-d Himself, for Whom one would even be willing to sacrifice one’s life (G-d forbid). When G-d sees that a Jew is giving of his or her very self for Him, He reciprocates in kind by allowing the great revelation discussed above — part of His own very Self, so to speak — to come to that individual.

And one must not think that this is an impossible level to reach, for just the opposite is the case: the capacity to devote oneself entirely to G-d is an inherent part of each and every Jewish soul. Indeed, the very word “Israel” (“Yisroel” in Hebrew, referring to the Jewish People) connotes one in whom G-d Himself is the dominant factor, since it implies "Y-Sar-Kel," which means that "Kel" (a name of G-d) is ever the "Sar" (leader, ruler) within him or her.

Practically speaking, however, there are many who have not attained this level; in fact, on the contrary, they may (G-d forbid) have put their own material wishes first and transgressed in some way. These people, too, have the Divine light shining within them — that is inextinguishable — but it is as though it were lost, sublimated deep within the personality, and must be recovered, rekindled. It is as advice for this situation that the verse proclaims (Deuteronomy 4:29), "And you shall seek, from there, G-d your L-rd." Since G-d is omnipresent, the word "here" always applies to Him, and the word "there" is sometimes used in reference to the opposite of holiness. In our context, it refers to the actions, words, and thoughts a person may have had for other than G-dly purposes (and it goes without saying for unG-dly purposes). One who wishes to rediscover the Divine spark he or she has "lost" must, as the verse allegorically puts it, seek it from there: from one’s own actions, words, and thoughts that were not proper, he or she must seek and search out the answer, subjecting every little matter to careful scrutiny and coming completely to grips with the enormity of his or her offense. When one appreciates the lofty nature of one’s Jewish soul, and how far, far away from G-d he or she has brought it through sinning, that person will feel bitterly sorry, and actually feel compassion and pity for his or her poor soul. It is this pity that is the key to rediscovering the inherent love for G-d that the person had "lost," for when one is moved to pity on his or her own soul, G-d, too, will have pity on that person, and allow the hidden love for G-d to be revealed anew in him or her.

(This is an extremely useful concept in drawing oneself closer to G-d, and is alluded to in the verse (Isaiah 29:22), "To Jacob who redeemed Abraham." As is well known, our forefathers Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob were each specifically associated with a G-dly emotion: love of G-d, awe and fear of G-d, and compassion, respectively. As the verse hints to us by the words “Jacob” and “Abraham,” compassion (i.e., the compassion felt for one’s own soul upon contemplation of the descent and degradation it has suffered as a result of the person’s sins) is a powerful tool for improving one's relationship with G-d, for it can “redeem” — bring out anew and rekindle — even a deeply buried love of G-d, as explained above.)

What about someone who tries reflecting on how great a descent he or she has caused for his or her soul, yet cannot seem to arouse any feelings of pity within him- or herself? This very circumstance should arouse the person to pity, for his or her soul has sunk to a state similar to that of an amputated limb which can no longer be felt at all. Yet the power of compassion is such that if this thought finally arouses the person to pity after all, even the “amputated limb” of his or her soul will be reattached.

One more thing must be borne in mind. Even should a person search his or her deeds in the manner described above, and actually succeed in finding his or her lost love for G-d — bringing it to the surface to be experienced as the motivation for his or her actions — the resulting revelation of G-dliness will not last or be able to remain with the individual if he or she does not provide some suitable environment for it, something in which to contain it, so to speak. It is necessary to ensure that the inspiration one worked so hard to cultivate does not simply peter out as the individual goes about his or her normal routine. This “containing vessel,” which holds and preserves the Divine inspiration within a person, is the Torah, as it says (Song of Songs 3:2-4), "... I will seek the one my soul has loved...I caught hold of him, and I will not let him go until I have brought him into my mother’s house and into the room of the one that bore me." Jewish philosophy explains that the Hebrew phrases "my mother’s house" and "the room of the one that bore me" refer to the Written Torah (the Scriptures) and the Oral Torah (the entire corpus of Jewish knowledge, traditionally expounded orally from the Scriptures) respectively. This is because the function of a house or a room is to encompass, to contain — in a broader or more particular sense, respectively — that which is within them, and in our context, these expressions are mystical allusions to the manner in which Torah study and performance of mitzvos are themselves the “vessels” which “contain” the light of G-d within the individual Jew. Through study and practice of the Written Torah and the Oral Torah, one ensures that the G-dliness which he or she has brought out within him- or herself will remain with him or her; and what is more, he or she is thereby enabled to grow spiritually and rise to ever increasing heights in his or her relationship with G-d.

-- ### --

Ó 2001. Please note that the foregoing is an informal synopsis by a private person, and that, therefore, errors are possible. Also, the Hebrew original contains much more than could possibly be presented here, and constitutes a much more direct transmission of the Alter Rebbe’s teachings. Thus, for those with the ability to learn in the original, this synopsis should not be considered a substitute for the maamar. Good Shabbos!

B”H

R’ei (2)

Ani L’Dodi V’Dodi Li: Haro’eh Bashoshanim

An adaptation of the Maamar found in Likutei Torah

Summary

The thirteen attributes of Divine mercy are particularly active during the Hebrew month of Elul, which precedes the High Holiday season. Torah study is associated with the immanence of G-d in creation, while Mitzvoh performance is associated with G-d’s transcendent aspect, a higher spiritual level. Failure to perform Mitzvos leaves a gap in the spirituality allotted to the individual from G-d’s transcendent level, but sincere repentance arouses the Divine attributes of mercy, a level that transcends the transcendent, and which can fill in the gaps. It is not possible for us to reach such a complete level of repentance without Heavenly assistance, and during Elul we pray for mercy to attain this.

___________________________

IN Song of Songs, which is a metaphorical love poem between the Jews and G-d, we find the statement (6:3), “I am to my Beloved [i.e, G-d] and my Beloved is to me: He who pastures among the ‘shoshanim’ [a kind of thirteen-petaled flower, usually translated as ‘rose’ or ‘lily’].” The thirteen petals of the shoshana-flower allude to the thirteen attributes of Divine mercy, which were taught to Moshe (Moses) by G-d when Moshe prayed for forgiveness for the Jews. G-d showed Moshe how, by invoking these thirteen G-dly attributes in prayer, a worshipper would be able to arouse Heavenly mercy (see Exodus 34:6), and it is because these same thirteen attributes are especially active during the Hebrew month of Elul, the month preceding the High Holidays, that the verse alludes to them in the context of “I am to my Beloved and my Beloved is to me,” the initial letters of which Hebrew phrase spell out the name of this month.

It is necessary to understand, however, what connection the thirteen attributes of mercy have with Elul in the first place. The Heavenly mercy associated with the thirteen attributes is the quality by which G-d forgives penitents, so it is clear that they play an important role during the High Holiday season and the Ten Days of Repentance between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur (the Day of Atonement). Why, however, is it also necessary to have G-d’s mercy especially active during the preceding month of Elul?

To appreciate this, we must analyze, by way of introduction, the Talmudic dispute (found at the end of the first chapter of tractate Kiddushin) as to which is greater: study [of Torah] or practice [of its lifestyle by performing Mitzvos]. After some debate, the Sages reached the conclusion that study is the greater of the two, for study leads to practice. The esoteric significance of their dispute is as follows:

It is known that G-d, although Himself One and indivisible, relates to creation in a number of different ways. A human king, being one person yet relating to his subjects in a number of ways, provides a fitting analogy. On the one hand, there is an element of sovereignty, of “kingship,” that is completely divorced from the physical person of the king: the citizens are his subjects whether they are in his physical presence or not; the mere proclamation “in the name of the king” is sufficient, even in his absence, to enact laws and otherwise impose his rule over them; many citizens may never have set eyes on the king in their lives, yet this intangible aspect of kingship causes them to revere and serve him. This idea, the fame of the king, his abstract sovereignty, pervades the entire kingdom yet affects each subject differently. Citizens residing .in the capital city very naturally sense this kingship to a greater degree than do the inhabitants of the outermost provinces; a patriotic person may feel more a subject of the king than might a non-patriotic individual. On the other hand, the actual presence of the king takes in everybody equally. Wherever they live in the kingdom, or no matter how patriotic they are, everyone in the room is just as much in the presence of the king himself as anyone else during a public appearance. And, looking at it in yet a third way, neither of the abovementioned aspects of the king — his glory and fame throughout the kingdom, and his bodily presence — are anything more than manifestations of the king to the public. The king as a man — his personality, his likes and dislikes, his emotions — is usually not accessible to any but his closest intimates.

The above analogy, though necessarily inexact, may help us to understand some of the ways in which G-d — the King of Kings — relates to us. It stands to reason that since G-d created the universe and everything in it (and not only created it in the past, but continually channels His creative energy, so to speak, into each and every thing, as Jewish philosophy teaches), every single object in the universe is infused with something of that Divine creative energy, a “spark of G-d” that enables it to exist. Everything, from the simplest stone to the most complex brain, has an underlying spiritual essence that is its “life-force,” and it is this that causes the object to exist as we know it. It is obvious, though, that this G-dly vitality, which pervades every object to the core, nevertheless is infused into the various objects of creation to different degrees: a stone has much less spiritual life to it than does a plant, which has less than an animal, which in turn has less than a human being. This aspect of G-d — that He animates every object in a manner tailored to its particular nature — is comparable to the fame, the abstract sovereignty, of a king, which applies to each subject differently and is separate from the actual person of the king. (This answers a fundamental question of philosophy: if the Creator is One and indivisible, how can there be multiplicity in creation? We now understand from the analogy that there is an element of “kingship” which permeates each and every individual thing to a different extent, yet has no bearing on the oneness of the king himself; in a similar fashion, spiritually, G-d brings the universe into being. While He is, of course, the Creator of all the many things that exist, none of this implicates G-d’s actual “Self,” so to speak. Contemplation of the fact that all the grandeur of creation reflects nothing more than this abstract aspect of G-d’s sovereignty, and does not even touch upon G-d Himself, is awe-inspiring indeed.) This immanence of G-d in creation is called in Hebrew “Memaleh Kol Almin,” that element of G-dliness that “fills all realms.”

On the other hand, G-d Himself (as opposed to His sovereignty) is so exalted, so sublime over the entirety of creation, that He does not “lower” Himself to relate to individual things; to cause one object to exist as a stone, for example, and another as a human being. To G-d, Who is so sublime, there is no difference between a person and a stone after all, for He utterly transcends them both. This transcendent element of G-d over creation, called “Sovev Kol Almin,” may be compared to the manner in which the bodily presence of the king in the analogy encompasses everyone and everything equally, whether they be nobility, peasant, stone, etc. (Note well that this transcendent level of G-dliness is “transcendent” only in the sense that it is equally present throughout all creation, but not in the sense that it is not found at all within creation – for indeed, there is no place which is devoid of G-d. As in the above analogy, all of creation, from the most sublime spiritual realms to the lowest of the low, is in the “presence of the King,” so to speak, which encompasses everything equally.)

Now, the Torah is associated with Memaleh Kol Almin, the immanent aspect of G-d’s relation to the universe. This is because the Torah is the Wisdom and Will of G-d Himself relating to material existence. In the Torah we find laws pertaining to everyday life — in a certain case, something may be permitted while in a different case forbidden; in this case kosher and in that case not kosher — and the abstract and sublime Wisdom of G-d coming down and clothing itself in everyday material objects and situations is an element of G-d’s immanence. For this reason, when a Jew studies the Torah, taking it into his or her mind and making it a part of his or her own knowledge, that person draws down upon him- or herself a revelation of G-dliness, the holiness of “Memaleh Kol Almin.” Mitzvos, by contrast, are associated with “Sovev Kol Almin,” G-d’s transcendent aspect, a higher level spiritually than “Memaleh.” When a Jew performs a Mitzvah, carrying out in actual practice the Will of G-d — not merely studying about what G-d wants done but actually doing it — the holiness he or she brings into the world, and upon him- or herself in particular, is so great that it cannot become internalized within the person like Torah knowledge can.

In light of the above, we can now appreciate a deeper significance to the Talmudic dispute mentioned earlier. The opinion that. practice of Mitzvos is greater is based on the fact that Mitzvah observance draws down upon the individual the holiness of “Sovev,” a more sublime spiritual level than that associated with Torah study, “Memale.” In spite of this, though, the Rabbis reached the conclusion that Torah study is greater. This is because. it would simply be impossible for us to link up with such a high level as “Sovev” by performing physical, worldly actions, without some kind of “stepping stone,” something having aspects of both the material and the spiritual, to bridge the gap. The Torah (in which the Mitzvos are taught), the essence of which is spiritual yet which relates to material existence, as explained above, is that stepping stone that allows “Sovev” to associate with us at all. This is what the Talmud meant by the statement, “Study [of Torah, associated with ‘Memaleh’] is greater, for study leads to practice [of Mitzvos, associated with ‘Sovev’].” That is, Torah study is the “bridge” that allows the holiness of Mitzvos to be drawn down upon us to begin with, and must therefore be regarded as superior.

What has all the above got to do with the thirteen attributes of Divine mercy being revealed during the month of Elul? The answer lies in the fact that the concepts of “Memaleh” and “Sovev” are of particular significance for this earthly existence. The world to come — Heaven — is a place of reward for one’s conduct in this present world, and whatever level a person has brought him- or herself to in this life determines his or her reward and spiritual level in the next life. In the next world, in other words, one’s spiritual standing is static; it remains fixed at the level determined by the person’s conduct in this life. It is only in this material world that one can progress from level to level as time goes on, improving his or her service to G-d, or (G-d forbid) the opposite. This spiritual fluidity in the material world is only possible because of Mitzvah performance: Mitzvah observance, as explained above, draws into this world the G-dly revelation of “Sovev,” which, being transcendent, is not limited to any individual level. It is for this very reason that the soul comes into the world to begin with: to draw the holiness of Sovev into the world through Mitzvah observance, thereby elevating oneself and the entire universe from one spiritual level to the next.

Indeed, each person has a certain amount of this holiness to draw into the world, a quota set in accordance with his or her capacity. That is one reason that transgressing a Mitzvah (G-d forbid) is such a terrible thing — even though G-d may forgive the transgressor, there is still something missing from the amount of holiness that he or she was supposed to bring into the world through Mitzvah observance. Even the transcendent level of Sovev, which ordinarily makes it possible to go from one level to another, cannot fill in the gap, for it is from Sovev itself that the holiness is missing!

Out of His unbounded love for us, however, G-d makes it possible, not only to be forgiven, but to “fill in the gaps” as well. This is accomplished through the thirteen attributes of mercy, which are on a much higher level than either Memaleh or Sovev: they are united with G-d Himself, like the personality of the king in the analogy. Since this is such a sublime spiritual level, transcending even Sovev, it can make up for what is missing in Sovev.

It is appropriate that the thirteen attributes of Divine mercy are revealed, not only during the Ten Days of Repentance, when they are instrumental in bringing G-d’s merciful forgiveness upon the Jews, but during the month of Elul as well. In order for one to merit being forgiven, and more than that, that any “gaps” in one’s spiritual quota should be miraculously repaired, one must succeed in achieving such a sincere and heartfelt level of repentance that G-d is moved, as it were, to a “heartfelt” response in kind, arousing His thirteen attributes of mercy in dealing with that individual. Unfortunately, it may be difficult for a person to bring him- or herself to such a genuine level of repentance. For this reason, G-d also makes the thirteen attributes of mercy accessible to us during Elul, which is a month-long period of preparation for the High Holiday season to follow. Mindful of the G-dly mercy manifest during this month, we should spend this time praying for the merciful Heavenly assistance that will bring our heartfelt repentance during the upcoming Ten Days of Repentance to the level at which it will indeed arouse the thirteen attributes of Divine mercy, so that G-d not only forgives us but even fills in our gaps.

-- ### --

Ó 2001. Please note that the foregoing is an informal adaptation by a private person, and that, therefore, errors are possible. Also, the Hebrew original contains much more than could possibly be presented here, and constitutes a much more direct transmission of the Alter Rebbe’s teachings. Furthermore, the adaptation may contain supplementary or explanatory material not in the original, and not marked as such in any way. Thus, for those with the ability to learn in the original, this adaptation should not be considered a substitute for the maamar. Good Shabbos!

B”H

Ki Seitzei

Ki Sih’yena L’Ish Sh’tei Nashim

An adaptation of the Maamar found in Likutei Torah

ONE of the various laws taught in the beginning of this week’s Torah portion is an inheritance law dealing with the division of the property of a man who has more than one wife. It states (Deuteronomy 21:15), “Should a man have two wives – the one, beloved, and the one, hated … and it turns out that the firstborn son belongs to the hated [then the man must not play favorites with the son of the wife whom he loves. Rather, he must leave the true firstborn son his rightful inheritance].”

In Hebrew, this verse is worded as more than a more possibility; the Hebrew phraseology seems to imply that the firstborn son belongs to the hated wife as a matter of course. Why should this be?

As with every aspect of Torah, this can be understood on a variety of levels. One of the deeper of these insights interprets the verse allegorically as a reference to the fundamental teaching that each and every Jewish person has two souls, and provides us with an inspiring message concerning our own worship of G-d.

As Rabbi Chaim Vital of blessed memory teaches in Sha’ar HaKedusha (see also the beginning chapters of Tanya), each Jewish person possesses not one but two souls. This is alluded to by the verse (Isaiah 57:16), “and I [G-d] made souls” – the context of which can imply that the plural (“souls”) is used to refer to a single individual.

One such soul is known as the “animating soul” (nefesh hachiyunis in Hebrew) or the “animal soul” (nefesh habahamis); it is this which gives life to the physical body, and is said to reside within the blood. For all that it is associated with corporeal existence, however, this soul is derived from a particularly lofty spiritual source. In order to descend from this sublime and purely spiritual level to the point at which it actually invests itself in our physical flesh and blood, the animal soul must undergo an innumerable series of steps through which its spirituality is progressively concealed. As a result, it ultimately comes to depend for its continued spiritual life-force on the complex hierarchy of intermediaries by which G-d channels His life-giving spirituality to the creatures of this world, in accordance with the Midrashic teaching (Genesis Rabbah 10:7), “You will not find even a blade of grass below that does not have a spiritual mentor above that smites it and directs it to grow.” Because of the great distance this interposes between the animal soul and G-d, the animal soul as we know it comes to include elements of both good and evil, or at least, vestiges of its spiritual origin (manifest as the capacity to desire things which may be used for holy purposes) and vestiges of the “coverings” and concealing elements which it picked up in the transition to the physical realm (manifest as the capacity to desire things which are not for the purpose of serving G-d, or even things which are (G-d forbid) outright contrary to the will of G-d). Indeed, all a person’s bad character traits originate in the animal soul.

The animal soul possesses intellectual functions as well, because the basic structure of any soul consists of both intellectual and emotional attributes. (The intellectual ability of the animal soul is primarily expressed in finding justification for the appetites and desires of its emotional component.) From its perspective, it is possible for a person to sin (G-d forbid): by the time the G-dly life-force reaches the animal soul in this lowest material existence, it has assumed such a multitude of coverings and disguises (in a manner of speaking) that the animal soul is deceived into thinking that it is an independent being unto itself – i.e., not an entity created by and dependent upon G-d. This allows for the possibility of sin, of disregarding the will of G-d.

This point is hinted at by the verse (Leviticus 5:1), “If a soul should transgress ….” The word “soul” in this verse is most simply understood as “person,” as in the expression, “Don’t tell a soul,” but its literal meaning alludes to the fact that transgression is a function of the animal soul, as explained above.

Now, the second soul of a Jew is called the “G-dly soul” (nefesh haElokis in Hebrew). It is literally, to paraphrase the biblical expression (Job 31:2), a “part of G-d above,” and unlike the animal soul, it comes to a person directly, without any intermediary whatsoever. We may find this too hinted at in a verse (Ecclesiastes 7:29): “G-d has made man straight,” which can be understood in the sense of “directly.” This is also one implication of the liturgical phrase (which we say each morning in the “Elokai Neshama” prayer), “You [G-d] blew it [the (G-dly) soul] into me,” that is, You personally, so to speak, without any intermediaries. Similarly, it is written (Genesis 2:7), “And He [‘personally’] blew the soul of life into [Adam’s] nostrils.” All this is to teach us that just as the very breath of one’s mouth is identified with and inseparable from the person him- or herself, so is the G-dly soul one with and inseparable from G-d at all times – even as it exists within this physical world.

From the G-dly soul’s perspective, sin is impossible: how can it transgress G-d’s will when it is itself one with G-d and always conscious of His constant presence and influence?

The relation of the two souls to one another may perhaps be compared to a person sitting within the control chamber of some powerful machine, like a person operating a crane, for example. The operator in this position, although unable to accomplish the task in question alone, can use the machine to carry out his or her will. From another perspective, though, the machine engulfs the person within and effectively serves as a barrier between the person and the outside. The G-dly soul is a purely spiritual entity and has no means of expressing itself in this material world. Accordingly, it is enclothed within and engulfed by the animal soul, as it were; in this way the G-dly soul has the ability to use the faculties of the animal soul, which relate to the physical body, as the G-dly soul’s means of expression (for example, to physically extend a helping hand or to speak words of Torah). By the same token, however, the G-dly soul is thus surrounded by the animal soul and its perception of G-dliness is blocked. Although the G-dly soul is inherently stronger than the animal soul, and would always come out the victor in a contest of wills, so to speak, between the two, as a practical matter it is this blockage of the G-dly soul’s perception that allows for the possibility of sin, as explained in Tanya.

(In scripture, the two souls are referred to by the verse (Genesis 1:26), “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness”: “our image” – b’tzalmeinu in Hebrew – refers to the G-dly soul, and “our likeness” – k’d’museinu – to the animal soul.)

By the G-dly soul’s using the animal soul’s faculties to express its will in the service of G-d, the animal soul is itself refined and purified of the coverings and impure tendencies discussed above. This is in fact the very purpose of the G-dly soul’s descent into this physical world (for after all, one could otherwise ask, why did the already spiritual and pure G-dly soul need to come into this coarse world at all?): to elevate and refine the animal soul. The G-dly soul’s task in this world is to “infiltrate” into the animal soul, do battle with it, separate the good from the evil in the animal soul’s makeup and elevate it back to its holy spiritual source. Unlike worship by the G-dly soul alone, the resulting worship of G-d by the animal soul may be described as converting darkness to light, which is especially precious to G-d.

Yet, in truth, the above leaves an important point unaddressed. Saying that the G-dly soul’s descent into this material realm is justified by its task of battling and elevating the animal soul is only satisfying superficially, since, as explained above, the animal soul itself has a lofty spiritual source. If so, why was it necessary for either soul to come into this world and struggle with the refinement of the animal soul: why not let them both remain on the lofty spiritual level they each started with and save everyone a lot of trouble?

To understand this, we must examine the nature of the battle and how it is waged through prayer. The morning prayer service essentially consists of the Shema prayer (“Hear O Israel, G-d is our G-d, G-d is One, etc.”) followed by the Sh’moneh Esrei (meaning “eighteen,” so named because it was composed with eighteen blessings); these are introduced by a series of chapters from Psalms containing praises of G-d and therefore called P’sukei D’Zimra (verses of praise). During P’sukei D’Zimra one should reflect upon the praises being recited, which extol G-d as the Creator of All and lead one to realize that, great and many as His creations are, G-d gives existence and life to them all and even the greatest and most awesome of them all is literally as naught before G-d Himself. G-d is supremely transcendent over the entirety of creation, not only this physical universe but all spiritual realms as well; before G-d, nothing else exists. The only thing that possesses true existence, that is truly real, is G-d, and anything else is but an illusion. By meditating upon and internalizing this idea, one in fact separates good from evil: “good” is that which is holy, G-dly; while “evil” in this context is anything else. When one realizes, not just intellectually but also practically, that the only true reality is G-d Himself, and that anything else is insignificant, one automatically avoids sin and that which is contrary to G-d’s will, because it is insignificant and unreal to the person as well.

This function of P’sukei D’Zimra as a means for separating out the evil from the good is alluded to in the verse (Psalms 149:6), “The praises of G-d are in their throat, and a double-edged sword in their hand.” When the praises of G-d are in one’s throat, that is, during P’sukei D’Zimra, then a metaphorical “double-edged sword” is in one’s grasp: one edge to separate and elevate good and one to weed out and cast down evil.

However, merely “separating” the evil from the good is insufficient. One must actually destroy the evil, as it says (Deuteronomy 20:17, referring to the seven nations representing the archetypical embodiment of evil), “You should utterly destroy them”; one must not be content with merely distinguishing darkness from light, one must actually transform the darkness itself into light. This is accomplished through the Shema prayer. (See also P’ri Eitz Chaim, Sha’ar K’rias Shema Al Hamita, chapter 11.)

In describing how Pinchas took decisive action to destroy the sinners who were bringing down G-d’s wrath upon the Jews, it is written (Numbers 25:7), “and he took a spear in his hand.” The Hebrew word for “spear” is romach, and its Hebrew spelling hints at the efficacy of the Shema in the actual destruction of evil. The written letters making up the word romach (the Hebrew letters reish, mem, and ches) are numerically equivalent, by the Hebrew grammatical principal of gematria (which assigns a numerical value to each letter), to 248. This stands for the 248 positive commandments (“Do such-and-such mitzva,” as opposed to “Do not commit such-and-such sin”) of the Torah. Furthermore, according to Hebrew grammar the word romach is understood to contain a fourth letter (a vav, which has the numerical value of 6) implicit between the reish and the mem.

The verse comprising the Shema prayer (Deuteronomy 6:4) contains six Hebrew words: “Hear O Israel, G-d is our G-d, G-d is One.” Additionally, the scriptural passages we recite as the complete Shema prayer (including the Shema verse itself, the phrase “Boruch Shem K’vod…,” and the customary repetition of the last three words, “Ani Hashem Elokeichem”) contain 248 words. The word romach, the “spear” which destroys evil and which is numerically equivalent to 248 plus six, thus hints at the Shema, which contains six words in its main verse and 248 words altogether.

The significance of this is implicit it the Shema’s words, “G-d is our G-d” (Hashem Elokeinu in Hebrew). The first Hebrew name of G-d is the Tetragrammaton, the holy Name which refers to G-d as He is in Himself, so to speak, as opposed to G-d as He manifests Himself in one way or another. (This name, which, owing to its holiness, is forbidden to be pronounced even in prayer, is sometimes pronounced Havaye (a scrambling of its Hebrew letters) in everyday speech, and is pronounced Ado-noy in prayer.) The second Divine name used in “G-d is our G-d” is Elokeinu, meaning “our G-d.” The meaning of this is that Havaye, that inexpressibly holy and exalted spiritual level, is, for us Jews, “our own G-d”: G-d, in His unbounded love for us Jews, has miraculously made His very Self, so to speak, accessible to us in an immediate and personal way, as “our G-d” – a distinction which even the angels and the loftiest spiritual beings cannot attain.

We Jews, however, are privy to this because, unlike anything else in Creation, our own spiritual origin is of the very Essence of G-d Himself, and we remain at all times directly linked to Him, as explained above in connection with the G-dly soul.

Now, the Hebrew word Shema in the verse Shema Yisroel… (“Hear O Israel…”) connotes not simply hearing, but understanding (as people sometimes use it in English, for example, by saying “I hear you” to mean “I understand your point”). When a person “hears” – truly reflects upon to the point of actual appreciation and understanding – that Havaye Elokeinu, that G-d forsook the sublime transcendence of the highest Heavens and brought the exalted level of Havaye from on high to be our personal G-d; when a person further appreciates that his or her own soul, which is literally a part of G-d above, now finds itself immersed in the lowest depths of the physical world, enclothed in a physical body and an animal soul far from manifest G-dliness – then the person truly feels a yearning and a love for G-d Himself, a boundless and all-consuming desire which seeks nothing short of actual re-absorption into G-d’s very “Self,” even though this means ceasing to exist as a separate entity.

This is alluded to in the Shema’s verse (Deuteronomy 6:5), “And you shall love G-d your G-d (Havaye Elokecha).” The word “love” in this context can be understood in its usual sense as an intransitive verb (you shall experience love and desire for Havaye to be Elokecha), and also as a transitive verb, meaning that G-d will “enloven” you, that is, that through your sincere attainment of your own limit in loving G-d, G-d Himself will grant you an even greater capacity for loving G-d than could be achieved by mortal effort alone. Then one can achieve that unbounded degree of love for G-d described above, the love the Torah refers to in the same verse (Deuteronomy 6:5) as “with all your might” (b’chol m’odecha) – a love which knows no limits because it is bestowed from Above after one has already reached one’s limit.

In ancient times, the Jews were able to achieve this degree of love for G-d by means of the Shema prayer alone, since evil did not have such a strong hold on them. However, today – a period which is referred to as being on the very heels of the Messiah’s arrival, as it were, and in which the forces of unholiness are rampant in the world – it is necessary also to recite the Sh’moneh Esrei prayer to attain this level. The blessings in the Sh’moneh Esrei (like all blessings) begin with the formula “Blessed are You, G-d our G-d,” which is “Boruch atto Havaye Elokeinu” in Hebrew. These words constitute additional prayers for G-d to relate to us as above. The Hebrew word boruch connotes an elicitation or drawing down of Divine influence upon us from on High; atto (meaning “You” [G-d]) is the second person, direct, form of address, which reflects the fact that the source of the spirituality we seek to elicit is none other than a level which transcends any name at all and can only be referred to as “You”; and the phrase Havaye Elokeinu, as explained at length above, means that we yearn for G-d Himself – Havaye – to relate to us personally, as Elokeinu, our G-d, to the point where the appreciation of the spiritual level of Havaye is actually manifest within our personal hearts and souls. This will automatically nullify utterly any and all evil or non-G-dly desire within us, as discussed above.

We are now in a position to understand the purpose for which both souls descended into this world. The limitless love for G-d known as “with all your might” is only attainable as a result of the struggle between the G-dly soul and the animal soul, the battle to weed out and indeed, to destroy, the evil within the animal soul, to convert darkness into light by making the animal soul itself a vessel for serving G-d. This love is far higher than that which the soul was capable of prior to coming into this world, and its achievement is a worthy purpose for the soul’s descent.

We may further understand the involvement of the animal soul in this process as follows:

As explained above, the animal soul’s spiritual source and origin within G-d (so to speak) is very high indeed – in a sense higher even than that of the G-dly soul. The animal soul’s spiritual origins are alluded to by the verse (Genesis 36:31), “These are the kings that reigned in the land of Edom before there reigned a king over the Children of Israel.” This is a reference to the spiritual state known as olam hatohu, the “Realm of Chaos,” the state of affairs before G-d brought about the present order, known as olam hatikun, the “Realm of Rectification.” As explained elsewhere in connection with the kabbalistic concept of sh’viras hakeilim, the “breaking of the vessels,” the entities (“vessels”) of olam hatohu were unable to remain intact and “broke,” plunging them into what we now call olam hatikun. The higher they were in olam hatohu the lower they fell into olam hatikun. The animal soul was of this lofty primordial order, and it is only as a result of all the “disguises” and transformations it underwent in the descent that it contains unholy elements in this realm. However, it is, at root, superior to the G-dly soul (as indicated by the statement that these kings reigned “before there reigned a king over the Children of Israel,” a reference to the G-dly soul), and its spiritual capabilities are therefore necessary for the G-dly soul to achieve its goal of love of G-d. When the evil is separated out from the good of the animal soul – through the efforts of the G-dly soul – these capabilities come into play to bring the soul to a level it could not have achieved otherwise.

Finally, this is the significance of the statement in this week’s Torah portion concerning a man with two wives, one beloved and one hated, and that “the firstborn son belongs to the hated.” The two “wives,” of course, symbolize the two souls: the beloved one is the G-dly soul and the hated one, the animal soul. Because of the superior spiritual capabilities of the animal soul, it is only from it (by its elevation at the hands of the G-dly soul) that there can be “born” a level whose source is “before there reigned a king over the Children of Israel,” and which is therefore described as the “firstborn son.”

-- ### --

Ó 2001 Yitzchok D. Wagshul. Please note that the foregoing is an informal adaptation by a private person, and that, therefore, errors are possible. Also, the Hebrew original contains much more than could possibly be presented here, and constitutes a much more direct transmission of the Alter Rebbe’s teachings. Furthermore, the adaptation may contain supplementary or explanatory material not in the original, and not marked as such in any way. Thus, for those with the ability to learn in the original, this adaptation should not be considered a substitute for the maamar. Good Shabbos!

Ki Savo

Tachas Asher Lo Avad’ta

Es Hashem Elokecho B’Simcha, Etc.

An adaptation of the Maamar found in Likutei Torah

Summary

In this week’s Torah portion we are told that service of G-d with joy is a must, yet this seems to contradict a verse in Psalms which implies that only the righteous can serve G-d with joy.

There is really no contradiction, however, because the joy in question is the joy of the soul when its innermost yearnings are realized: each and every single Jew, deep in his or her heart, loves G-d to such an extent that uniting with Him through Torah and mitzvos brings about the joy of our verse. The righteous achieve such a high degree of love for G-d as to bring about an even greater level of this joy, and it is to this that the verse in Psalms refers.

____________________________

This week’s Torah portion, “Ki Savo,” contains the verse (Deuteronomy 28:47), “Since you [the Jews] did not serve G-d your G-d with joy and with gladness of heart ... you will serve your enemies,” which is often cited as one indication that it is necessary to worship G-d with a feeling of joy. Yet to demand of us Jews that we each develop such a level of piety that we serve G-d out of a feeling of heartfelt joy (and demand it to such an extent that failure to do this is given as the reason for “you will. serve your enemies”) seems not only unreasonable, but actually contradictory to a second verse that implies that only the righteous (tzaddikim in Hebrew) attain this level (see Psalms 32:11).

Actually, however, the matter is simple to understand, as shall become evident after a discussion of just how one may arouse this “joy and gladness of heart” to begin with.

There are two major aspects to service of G-d; specifically, these are Torah and Prayer. Each of these plays an important role in an individual’s developing the joy necessary for an ideal relationship with G-d. The role of prayer is hinted at in the verse (Genesis 22:3), “And Abraham arose in the morning”: each one of our forefathers — Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob — was considered the very embodiment of a particular G-dly emotion (love (of G-d), awe or fear (of G-d), and mercy, respectively), and we often find the name of one of the forefathers serving as a reference also to his outstanding quality. In addition to the simple and obvious meaning, the verse “And Abraham arose in the morning” tells us that the best time to arouse in oneself the quality of Abraham — love of G-d — is in the morning, at the time of the morning prayer. The idea behind this is that each and every Jew, being a descendant of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, has as an inherent part of his or her nature an inextinguishable love for G-d (as well as the other emotions mentioned above), which is an inheritance from our forefathers. This love, however, is sometimes so deeply buried within the person’s soul as to be hidden and unnoticed, and in that case is referred to, in a particularly fitting analogy, as “asleep.” A sleeping person’s mind, though active, is not capable of conscious, deliberate, thought; visions or ideas that present themselves in a dream may represent things the dreamer has indeed seen or knows, and may even induce particular feelings within the sleeper, but he or she cannot, while asleep, exert any control over dreams or consciously think them through. The love for G-d hidden within the heart of each and every single Jew is also sometimes in a state of “sleep” in that it, too, does not then directly affect the person’s conscious actions and thoughts. It is more like a dream, since it leaves nothing more than a mere impression on the individual, who may then know deep within his or her heart that G d exists, and even that “the whole Earth is filled with His glory” (Isaiah 6:3), yet remain unaffected by this knowledge to the extent that he or she still might transgress the will of G-d (Heaven forbid). The person hasn’t yet developed their innate love for G-d to the point where it motivates their day-to-day life, and they must wake up, arouse, the “sleeping’’ love – they must become more conscious of it – by deliberately thinking at length about the omnipresence of G-d. (If one comes to an honest realization of the fact that G-d is everywhere, and is the true source of all life, he or she will surely be inspired to a conscious love of G-d – if only because he or she consciously loves life itself!) Since virtually all of the morning prayer service consists of praises of G-d and references to His omnipresence, lengthy reflection during prayer about what we are saying is especially helpful towards arousing this love, and this is the “helpful hint” that the Torah passage gives us by saying “And Abraham [a reference to the G-dly love we inherit from him] arose [from sleep] in the morning [i.e., at the time of the morning prayers].”

Specifically, what a person should reflect upon during prayer is the fact that everything derives its existence from G-d, and therefore, G-d is the only true existence. Everything in the universe is nothing more than a manifestation of G-d’s creative power; nothing exists independently of Him. What is more, this bringing of the entire universe, in all its splendor, into being does not even require any effort or action on the part of G-d; it does not affect G-d Himself in the slightest. (This is something like the way in which the intangible regenerative force of the Earth, that spiritual capacity to give forth growing things, is in no way affected by any individual fruit that grows from the ground. An apple certainly does not detract at all from the ground, which can in fact produce unlimited apples without losing anything whatsoever of itself. Or, as another example, a single thought of a person among the endless stream that flows from him or her throughout life certainly does not detract one bit from his or her soul, which can give forth an infinite amount effortlessly.) Reflection upon these things naturally awakens the hidden love for G-d in the heart of every Jew, and this is why our morning prayers revolve around this subject – culminating in the climax of prayer, the Shema (“Hear, O Israel, G-d is our G-d, G-d is One” (Deuteronomy 6:4)), by which point we are ready to declare our unshakeable belief, expressed therein, in the unity and omnipresence of G-d. This is immediately followed by the verse (Deuteronomy 6:5), “And you shall love G-d your G-d...,” since proper contemplation of G-d’s all-encompassing oneness automatically results in a conscious love for G-d, as mentioned above. This is of the very nature of the Jewish soul.

This natural love for G-d can be felt by each and every Jewish person; it is built on the realization that G-d is the only true life, which brings out a yearning in the individual to attach him- or herself to G-d with complete devotion. However, this may be called a self-centered love, since the person yearns to attach his or her soul to the true source of its own life. It can be distinguished from a second type of love for G-d, which is not necessarily within the reach of every single person to attain. This second kind of love has no element of self at all: a person’s every action on this level is motivated by a purely altruistic desire to fulfill the will of G-d. The worshipper wishes to be so completely united with and attached to G-d as to lose all trace of independent existence; he or she longs for his or her soul to return to its Maker and be reabsorbed in G-d’s all-encompassing unity. This love, in which the soul delights in G-d alone (even to the exclusion of its own existence), is not already hidden within the Jewish soul, a part of its nature; rather, the capacity to achieve this love, through contemplation of G-d’s unity, is granted by G-d to the righteous as a reward for their efforts.

Now, the yearning we have been discussing – the yearning of each and every Jewish soul to attach itself to the true source of life, G-d (i.e., the first type of love mentioned above) – cries out for fulfillment, cries out to be satisfied by the person’s actually attaching him- or herself to G-d. The only possible way for mortal man, a created entity, to attach him- or herself to G-d is through study of Torah and performance of its mitzvos (precepts). Through Torah, one may literally unite with G-d, a unity which would certainly be impossible were it not for the great kindness of G-d in allowing us to achieve it through Torah.

It is this attainment of the innermost yearning of the soul that brings a person to an unparalleled feeling of joy and gladness of heart – the same joy that is demanded of us in the verse quoted above. Now that we understand how this joy is attained, we see that it is not at all unreasonable for G-d to expect it of us. This is because every single Jew, no matter what his or her present level, has the power (and therefore the responsibility) to awaken the hidden love for G-d found within his or her soul, and we certainly have the responsibility to study the Torah and perform its mitzvos – which study, coupled with the love and longing which it satisfies, naturally brings a Jew to the joy and gladness of heart in question. It is the natural joy of the Jewish soul at uniting with its Maker through Torah and mitzvos. It is the joy we call simcha shel mitzva (joy in performance of mitzvos) and is considered very important.

And this joy comes to a person in two ways: the first is when, immediately following morning prayers, the worshipper engages (even if only for a short period) in Torah study. In this case, since he or she is fresh from experiencing the heartfelt love of G-d aroused during prayer, the yearning of his or her soul for G-d being immediately satisfied through Torah study brings about the joy in an easy and straightforward manner. The second applies after the worshipper has finished praying and is already involved in his or her affairs for the day. Then, even though no longer involved in holy actions like prayer (all the more so if he or she has sinned, G-d forbid), the very thought that he or she is not so close to G-d, has brought him- or herself far from Him by sinning, and so on, yet still gets to unite with G-d through Torah study and mitzva observance, brings one to rejoice after all at his or her coming back and uniting with G-d.

Either way, though, this joy is accessible to the average Jew, and is not to be confused with the joy experienced by the righteous who have attained the “selfless” love for G-d mentioned above. This being the case, we see that there is really no contradiction between the verse in this week’s Torah portion (which requires every Jew to achieve simcha shel mitzva) and the verse in Psalms (which, speaking about the unique level they have reached, implies that it is the righteous who experience joy in G-d.)

Finally, to get the most from one’s prayers, one should contemplate beforehand just how far from G-d he or she actually is. Also, there are three things which help to remove all obstacles to successful prayer: immersion in a mikvah (ritual bath) before the prayer, contributing to charity, and studying Jewish ethical teachings (called mussar in Hebrew), particularly those found in the classic work, “Zohar.”

-- ### --

Ó 2001. Please note that the foregoing is an informal adaptation by a private person, and that, therefore, errors are possible. Also, the Hebrew original contains much more than could possibly be presented here, and constitutes a much more direct transmission of the Alter Rebbe’s teachings. Furthermore, the adaptation may contain supplementary or explanatory material not in the original, and not marked as such in any way. Thus, for those with the ability to learn in the original, this adaptation should not be considered a substitute for the maamar. Good Shabbos!

Nitzavim

Atem Nitzavim

An adaptation ofthe Maamar found in Likutei Torah

Summary

On Rosh Hashana, the entire Jewish People unites as oneunit, so that G-d in turn may unite with us and be our king. Although it seems impossible, logically, forAlmighty G-d to relate to us mortals at all, or to be our king – as irrationalas a mortal being "king" over sticks and stones – a special pact oflove between G-d and the Jews makes Him want to do the impossible for usanyway. We remind G-d of this pact onRosh Hashana, when He renews His kingship over us in response to our heartfeltrepentance.

Relevant Verses Bearing On This Discourse (Deuteronomy 29:9-l2):

“You stand this day, all of you, before G-d your G-d:your heads of your tribes, your elders and your officers – every man of Israel. Your little ones, yourwives, and the stranger that is in your camp, from the hewer of your wood tothe drawer of your water: In order thatyou may pass into the covenant of G-d your G-d and into His oath, which G-dyour G-d makes with you this day. [Namely,] that He establish you today for anation to Himself, and that He be to you a G-d – as He has said to you, and asHe has sworn to your fathers, to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob.”

____________________________

Because of its special relevance to Rosh Hashana, thisweek’s Torah portion, “Nitzavim,” is always read on the Shabbospreceding that holiday. This relevance is hinted at in the opening verses(Deuteronomy 29:9-11): “You [the Jewish People] stand this day, all ofyou, before G-d your G-d: [from] your heads of your tribes ... to the drawer ofyour water – that you may pass into the covenant of G-d your G-d ....” Theexpression “this day” (hayom in Hebrew) alludes to Rosh Hashana, as wefind it used in the liturgy, “This day [Rosh Hashana] marks the beginning ofYour creation [of mankind and the universe], reminiscent of the First Day.”

Specifically, the Hebrew word used here for “standing” (nitzavim)connotes cohesion: on this day – Rosh Hashana – the entire Jewish People(including every member of each of the ten spiritual categories that comprisethe Jewish nation, which categories are alluded to in the verses quoted in thesummary section above) stands united, as a single entity. By eachindividual realizing that, even if he or she is indeed a great person, theremust be at least some small advantage which his or her fellow has over him orher, we all feel a greater bond between us – both in our daily lives, and on amore subtle level perceived by our souls. This bond of unity between us Jews isa prerequisite for G-d in turn, in a similar bond, to unite with us on RoshHashana. On Rosh Hashana, G-d reveals anew His sovereignty over us and we inturn proclaim ourselves His devoted subjects – renewing the purpose of Creationand bringing about the ideal unity between G-d and Man.

For a more detailed understanding of how to achieve thisunity; also, the significance of repentance and why it is particularlyappropriate on Rosh Hashana – we may take a clue from the next part of ourverse: “that you may pass into the covenant of G-d your G-d.” The idea of acovenant (bris in Hebrew) is to cement a relationship between twoparties, to create such a strong bond of unity as to defy intellectualdefinition, as to transcend logic.

Two close friends, for instance, might establish a pactbetween-themselves to symbolize that their friendship will be eternal; even ifthey become separated or if one should eventually wrong the other – so that youwould reasonably expect their friendship to terminate – remembrance of the pactensures their continued relationship. In a similar fashion, and out of Hisgreat kindness towards us Jews, G-d made with us a pact to stand by ourrelationship in times of strain: even if we transgress the will of G-d, and onemight reasonably expect Him to abandon us (Heaven forbid), G-d remembers thiscovenant and has mercy upon us for its sake.

This concept lies at the crux of our entire worshipservice on Rosh Hashana, as is best expressed by the saying of our sagesregarding this worship (Talmud, Rosh Hashana 16a): “The Holy One, may He beblessed, says [to us Jews], ‘Recite before Me [verses that make mention of My]kingship, in order to proclaim Me King over you; [verses that serve as]reminders, so that your remembrance may come up favorably before Me; and withwhat [can you accomplish this]? With the shofar [ram’s horn sounded on RoshHashana].’”

The significance of this is as follows:

Rosh Hashana, as mentioned above, is the day on which manwas created at the beginning of time; this was an act of the purest kindness,since it was in no way prompted by any, action or merit on the part ofyet-to-be-created Man. When the first man, Adam, was created, he recitedthe psalm (93), “G-d reigns; He is clothed in majesty...” (see Midrash, VayikraRabba, beginning of chapter 29). This is because, with the creation ofmankind the awesome majesty of G-d became apparent; now that He had subjectsover whom to rule, the sovereignty of G-d could be expressed, and Adam was soinspired by this revelation of G-d's kingship that he was moved to recite thepsalm.

(And in fact, what Adam did was quite correct. Rather thanrecite psalms praising G-d for having made mankind in the first place, Adampraised Him for revealing His Kingship over us. It is worth some little thoughtthat existence without G-d (Heaven forbid), existence without some element ofthe spiritual, would render man just another species; it is the fact that G-dsingles us out and proclaims Himself king over us Jews in particular that givesour life significance – objective significance, as opposed to the subjectiveimportance any given individual attaches to their own doings. Indeed, asmentioned above, it was the creation of subjects over whom to rule thatfacilitated the expression of G-d's kingship in the first place, and it is forthat very purpose that we were created.)

Again, on the first Rosh Hashana – when Adam was created –this wonderful kindness on G-d's part – i.e., revealing Himself as king over us– was completely unprompted by any merit of ours. Now, however, we must showourselves worthy of having G-d Himself as our king. Actually, every year as theanniversary – Rosh Hashana – of that first unsolicited kindness rolls around,G-d does continue to proclaim Himself king over the Jews, but this revelationof G-dliness must first be elicited by us.

What, though, can anybody possibly do to prompt G-dHimself to relate to us? Theanswer is that we must invoke the pact of love between G-d and us Jews. The wayto do this is symbolized by the blowing of the shofar, and that is the meaningof “and with what [can you bring about this favorable remembrance of our pact,and My therefore proclaiming Myself King over you]? With the shofar.”

A shofar blast is the most basic of sounds, a simplehorn-blow uncomplicated by notes, words, etc. It represents the inarticulatecry of our soul as it yearns for G-d, which cry, paradoxically, is the mosteloquent expression of our love for Him. For there are two kinds of love forG-d: the more superficial is aroused by the individual’s contemplation of howwondrous is G-d’s universe, the staggering multiplicity of His creations, andhow He is the One who gives life to them all. But when a Jew realizes that allthese things are but creations of G-d; they are nothing but things He made, buthave no resemblance whatsoever to G-d Himself – he or she breaks throughto emotions at the very core and essence of his or her soul, awakening theinnate feelings of love for G-d and yearning for Him alone that are buried deepin the heart of every single Jew. (Only the soul, being literally a partof G-d, can experience such an all-consuming, fiery love for G-d, its source.)

This yearning is all the more intense in one who repentsof whatever transgressions he or she may have, since the very thought of havinggone against the will of G-d makes one long all the more to come back, to unitewith G-d from then on. Some emotions are simply too deep, too basic, to beexpressed in words, and the inarticulate cry of the shofar is intended torepresent this deeply rooted love and inexpressible yearning for G-d that weexperience with heartfelt repentance. When G-d sees how deeply felt – from thevery core of the soul – is the person’s, repentance and desire to unite withHim, He reciprocates by allowing His holiness to rest upon that person: it isas though G-d responds to heartfelt repentance by “putting His own heart” intothe relationship, so to speak.

One may now really wonder, in view of all theabove, how such a thing is possible, for now that we have explained that through repentance G-d’s own “Essence” actuallyrelates to a person (and on amore collective level, to all the Jews), the original question – how can anyonepossibly attain this level – is strengthened rather than answered.

This is where the unique nature of our covenant comes in.As is the nature of such a pact, this supra-rational covenant serves toperpetuate our relationship with G-d even when logic, reason, demandsotherwise. In this case, it does indeed appear impossible, logicallyincomprehensible, that G-d Himself should relate to us as our king. One cancertainly only be a king over those who at least relate to him: a man couldnever proclaim himself king over sticks and stones, only over other men. Whenyou think about it, it seems as absurd for G-d, the Creator of the universe, toWhom any created being (including the loftiest angels) does not relateany more than stones relate to man, to be king over us mortals, as for the manwith the sticks to “reign” over them. Yet out of His love for us Jews, G-d gaveus this wonderful pact, which, transcendent of all that appears logicallypossible, arouses in G-d the desire to go beyond the natural order of things(for, after all, G-d is omnipotent) and relate to us as our king anyway. G-d onthe one hand raises us up, and on the other hand, allegorically speaking,“lowers” Himself, so that we may indeed meet at the level of king and subjects.This is the meaning of the verse (see “summary” section above), “that you maypass into the covenant … in order to establish you [literally, “raise you up”]... to be for Him a nation, and that He may be to you a G-d.” How truly awesomethis pact is!

Still, we must ourselves be worthy of being G-d’ssubjects. Just in case we are not exactly the most perfect subjects fit for theKing of Kings, we try our best to bring G-d to renew His kingship over usanyway through heartfelt repentance, and through our worship on Rosh Hashana.That is the good advice G-d gives to us in the saying of our sages quoted above(for G-d truly wants to accept our repentance and be our king), “[Theway to pray before Me on Rosh Hashana is to] recite before me verses ofkingship and of remembrance, accomplished through the shofar”: Rosh Hashana isthe most auspicious time to elicit G-d’s kingship, since it was on the firstRosh Hashana that G-d revealed his kingship over us out of pure kindness, notmerited by anything we had done. By reciting verses on Rosh Hashana thatmention this fact, we hope that G-d will overlook our sins and reveal Hisrenewed kingship this year as well, regardless of our own spiritual standing.These are the verses on the theme of G-d’s sovereignty that we recite duringthe mussaf prayer on Rosh Hashana. We also “remind” G-d of thewonderful, supra-rational covenant between us, by means of the verses ofremembrance in the mussaf prayer (which refer to G-d remembering thecovenant). Finally, through heartfelt repentance, from the very essence of oursouls – symbolized by the inarticulate soul-cry of the shofar, mentioned in themussaf verses referring to shofar – we indeed bring G-d to respond to us on a level stemming from His ownvery “Essence,” as it were, and thus relate to us as king on Rosh Hashana.

--### --

Ó 2001 Dach Holdings, Ltd. Please note that theforegoing is an informal adaptation by a private person, and that, therefore,errors are possible. Also, the Hebrew original contains much more than couldpossibly be presented here, and constitutes a much more direct transmission ofthe Alter Rebbe’s teachings. Furthermore, the adaptation may contain supplementary orexplanatory material not in the original, and not marked as such in any way.Thus, for those with the ability to learn in the original, this adaptationshould not be considered a substitute for the maamar.

Good Shabbos! May we, together with all our brethren and sisters, the JewishPeople everywhere, be blessed with a k’siva vachasima tova.

B”H

Rosh Hashanah

Yom Tov Shel Rosh Hashanah

Shechal Lih’yos BaShabbos

An adaptation of the Maamar found in Likutei Torah

Summary

When the holiday of Rosh Hashanah occurs on Shabbos, we do not sound the shofar (ram’s horn used on Rosh Hashanah). Mystically, the reason for this is that the spiritual effect of the mitzvah of Shabbos is similar to the spiritual benefit of the mitzvah of shofar, so that when it is already Shabbos, it is unnecessary to sound the shofar.

On the other hand, prior to the Second Temple period of Jewish history, the shofar was sounded even when the holiday occurred on Shabbos. This is because, in actuality, the spiritual benefit of shofar is somewhat more sublime than even that of Shabbos; it was therefore still desirable to obtain the spiritual effects of shofar even though the effects of Shabbos were present. During the Second Temple period, though, it was no longer possible to bring such a sublime spiritual level as that associated with the mitzvah of shofar into the physical world (except within the confines of the Temple itself), so the practice was stopped lest people come to inadvertently violate the Shabbos.

____________________________

THE MISHNA tells us (Rosh Hashanah, beginning of chapter 4), “[On] the holiday of Rosh Hashanah that occurred on Shabbos, they used to sound the shofar [ram’s horn] in the Temple, but not throughout the country.” This refers to the fact that even though it was permitted to sound a shofar in the Holy Temple itself on Shabbos, it was forbidden everywhere else. The Talmud, in its commentary on this Mishna, explains that the reason the shofar was not sounded throughout the realm (but only in the Temple) on Shabbos is because of the possibility that someone might inadvertently violate Shabbos by carrying a shofar in a public place (an act forbidden on Shabbos): to avoid this, the great sage, Rabba, decreed that the holy mitzvah of shofar be performed only in the Temple (by responsible rabbis), thereby removing the chance for the common folk to err.

Interestingly, though, there was no such decree against the people performing the mitzvos of lulav and esrog (the palm branch and citron fruit used on the Succos holiday) when the first day of Succos occurred on Shabbos. We must understand – as the commentary of Tosfos indeed asks – why should shofar be any different from lulav? Furthermore, the mitzvah of shofar is a Biblical commandment, bringing unimaginable spiritual benefit. Whatever was the justification for Rabba’s preventing the many great rabbis and holy saints who lived throughout the land of Israel in those days from performing this mitzvah on Shabbos – just because one or two absent-minded people might err?

In order to fully appreciate this matter, and penetrate to its very core, we must first discuss the essential nature of the mitzvah of shofar.

(And since the concept is a lofty one, perhaps the following analogy will aid in grasping it. Human nature is such that when one individual does another a favor or some other positive act, the recipient automatically feels closer, warmer, toward his or her friend. Not only that, but the extent of the “good vibrations” that the second person has toward the first is determined by the particular act or favor that was done to begin with. If the first person lent their friend a pencil, the borrower might feel warm toward him or her; if they lent the person money in time of need, certainly the borrower’s natural feelings of warmth and gratitude would well up from deeper within his or her personality; and, in both of those cases, the good will evoked would be relatively superficial compared to the overwhelming feeling of closeness that would result if the first person were to save the other’s very life.

Our relationship with G-d is similar, in that whenever a Jewish person performs a mitzvah, he or she brings G-d closer to him or her. Indeed, the very word mitzvah is etymologically related to the word tzavsah, “connection,” since doing mitzvos connects the worshipper and G-d in a manner comparable to that discussed above. Not only does performing a mitzvah evoke a positive response from G-d, but the “depth” – allegorically speaking – of G-d’s “warm feelings” or “good will” depends upon the mitzvah that was done and the manner in which it was performed. When a Jew drops a penny in a charity box, G-d is pleased, to be sure, but if the person actually found a poor individual and helped him or her to obtain food and clothing, a job, etc. – G-d’s response is likewise much “deeper.”

Armed with the above insight into mitzvos in general, we can now go on to examine the mitzvah of shofar in particular.)

Since shofar is one of the key mitzvos associated with Rosh Hashanah, we must consider it in light of its relevance to that holiday. The main theme of Rosh Hashanah is our proclaiming G-d King over the universe, and accepting His reign upon ourselves. (The reason we pray for forgiveness at this time is that it is one of the functions of a king to judge his subjects fairly, and to grant their requests; we ask G-d to overlook our imperfections and deign to be our King in spite of them, and to grant us a good and sweet year.)

Indeed, the above is the very purpose of creation: G-d didn’t have to create the world in the first place, or He could have made it in such a way as to be obviously dependent upon Him; instead, He created the world with the appearance of separateness and independence from Him (as though such a thing were actually possible) – so much so that a person might not even realize that G-d exists (Heaven forbid) – with the intent that we voluntarily accept G-d’s rule upon ourselves anyway. When we do this, showing that G-d’s sovereignty extends even to areas where it is not obvious, it is one of the most beautiful manifestations of G-d’s kingship, and evokes true delight, as it were, in G-d.

Now, saying that accepting G-d’s kingship upon ourselves brings out true delight in G-d is really the same thing that we discussed above: by performing mitzvos, we bring G-d closer to ourselves – in different ways depending on the particular mitzvah. Of course, G-d doesn’t really have human emotions; saying that “G-d is delighted” is simply anthropopathism. What we really mean by that (in this context) is that bringing about the open revelation of G-d’s kingship where it had not previously been apparent is considered so vitally important, so precious to G-d, as to evoke a G-dly reaction – similar to the “good vibrations” in our earlier example – on the deepest level, just as the human emotion of “delight” is one of the deepest rooted and most basic of feelings.

In mystical terms, we say that G-d delights in His kingship: by our accepting His sovereignty upon ourselves, we bring about this delight. This causes G-d to want to reign as our king, and He is therefore willing to overlook our shortcomings and be our king anyway. Put another way, we Jews actually have the ability to arouse and strengthen G-d’s attribute of kingship by evoking the sublime spiritual level mystically known as “delight” – and this is our task on Rosh Hashanah.

In particular, this deep-rooted level of G-dliness – the spiritual level referred to metaphorically as “delight” – is only brought out through the mitzvah of sounding the shofar. This is because the shofar epitomizes our submission to G-d as His subjects. A shofar is made of the horn of a docile animal, symbolizing a willingness to go along with G-d’s will over our own. In addition, a shofar­-blast is a piercing cry that reaches to the very depths of a person’s heart and soul; this represents, and in fact helps to stimulate, our heartfelt repentance – a repentance that is also rooted in the very deepest depths of the soul. Only this deep level of commitment to G-d, embodied in the mitzvah of shofar, is capable of evoking a correspondingly deep response from G-d, a response on the level referred to above as “delight.”

With that, we can finally understand why the mitzvah of shofar was not performed throughout the realm when Rosh Hashanah fell out on Shabbos. As mentioned above, the mitzvos all connect us with G-d on some level or other, and, as explained elsewhere, the mitzvah of Shabbos also happens to bring upon us G-dly response from the level known as delight. In other words, the day of Shabbos itself accomplished the same spiritual benefit as did sounding the shofar, so that it was unnecessary to sound the shofar on Shabbos.

This in itself makes a satisfying Torah insight, but in truth, we can carry the matter even further. After all, it will be remembered that it was the decree of Rabba that was responsible for the shofar not being sounded on Shabbos; prior to the enactment of this decree, it was indeed sounded. If all the above is so – that Shabbos itself accomplishes the very same spiritual effect as shofar – why did it work out that, at one time, the shofar was sounded even on Shabbos, with Rabba’s decree changing the practice only later?

The answer, as before, can be appreciated by reflecting on the similarity G-d has made between our own human selves and G-d’s “self,” so to speak. A person can discern many different aspects to his or her capacity for delight; in fact, it is probably one of the most multifarious emotions. Any one person may take delight in an unlimited number of things, with just one of the five senses (such as various kinds of food with the sense of taste), let alone with all five senses – and he or she delights in each thing to a different degree. G-d made humans in His image, as is well known, which means (among other things) that by Torah-guided contemplation of our own selves, we can better appreciate the corresponding, spiritual, aspects of G-d. In this case, just as human delight is not one indivisible level, but can actually be classified into many different degrees of delight, so too is it with the spiritual level we call delight.

Some mitzvos, even those that evoke a Divine response from the sublime level of delight, may evoke that response on a different level of delight itself than other mitzvos. Such is the case with Shabbos and shofar: to put it in technical terms, the mitzvah of shofar elicits a response from G-d on the mystical level known as bina d’arich anpin (“arich anpin” being a term signifying an aspect of G-d’s “delight”), ands draws spirituality from there down to the level of bina d’atzilus; whereas the mitzvah of Shabbos elicits a response from the comparatively lower level of delight called chesed d’arich anpin, drawing its spirituality down to the level of chochmah d’atzilus. The point is that since the mitzvah of shofar elicits a response from G-d on a deeper level than does Shabbos (even though they both express the G-dly quality of delight), it was still desirable to sound the shofar on Shabbos: even though “G-dly delight” was already present because of Shabbos, the sounding of the shofar would bring about even more, a heightened degree of G-dly delight.

Despite this, though, the rabbis saw fit to enact the decree of Rabba throughout the land. This decree was enacted in the time of the Second Temple, and the reason for it (on the mystical level of our discussion) was that after the destruction of the First Temple, the spiritual level of bina d’atzilus could no longer be openly expressed within this world. Since, as we said before, shofar draws down “good vibrations” from G-d to that very level (and from there to G-d’s attribute of kingship, as mentioned earlier) – and that level was no longer revealed during the Second Temple period – it was justified to stop sounding the shofar on Shabbos (which carried with it the possibility that some people might inadvertently transgress), since the sublime effects of the mitzvah could not be felt throughout the realm anyway. Because of the intrinsic holiness of the Temple itself, though, the effects of the mitzvah could still be felt there, which is why the shofar was sounded, in the Holy Temple, even when Rosh Hashanah occurred on Shabbos.

This also explains why the mitzvos of lulav and esrog were performed on Shabbos even during the Second Temple period. While Shabbos and shofar evoke a response from G-d on the level of true “delight,” lulav and esrog – while still being important mitzvos, of course ­­– do not elicit a Divine response from that particularly high spiritual level. Thus, even though bina d’atzilus was concealed in the Second Temple period, the mitzvos of lulav and esrog were unaffected, since the G-dly response elicited by them did not involve that level anyway.

-- ### --

Ó 2002 Yitzchok D. Wagshul. Please note that the foregoing is an informal adaptation by a private person, and that, therefore, errors are possible. Also, the Hebrew original contains much more than could possibly be presented here, and constitutes a much more direct transmission of the Alter Rebbe’s teachings. Furthermore, the adaptation may contain supplementary or explanatory material not in the original, and not marked as such in any way. Thus, for those with the ability to learn in the original, this adaptation should not be considered a substitute for the maamar. Good Shabbos! May we, together with all our brethren and sisters, the Jewish People everywhere, be blessed with a k’siva vachasima tova, l’shana tova u’m’suka.

B”H

Vayeilech

Shuva Yisroel (#1)

An adaptation of the Maamar found in LikuteiTorah

Summary

A Jew’s task in life is to illuminate the world withG-dliness, accomplished through observing Mitzvos.

He or she must sometimes struggle against his or herown desires to do this. This struggle is associated with the name of ourpatriarch Jacob; when the battle is won, it is associated with his other name,Israel.

If one transgresses a mitzvah (G-d forbid) he or shedoes not allow G-dliness to flow into the world. However, all is not lost, forone can gain atonement and a fresh start through sincere repentance.

____________________________

ThisShabbos is popularly known as “Shabbos Shuva” (the Shabbos of “Return...”), since it is the Shabbos between the High Holidays of Rosh Hashana andYom Kippur, and we therefore read in the synagogue the prophetic exhortation(Hosea 14:2): “Return, O Israel, unto G d your G-d ….” All this is because theperiod from Rosh Hashana to Yom Kippur (the Day of Atonement) is especiallyconducive to “returning to G-d,” repentance from any transgressions we may havedone, and so it is appropriate to reflect on the Jew’s relationship with G-d;his or her mission in life; and how, during this period between Rosh Hashanaand Yom Kippur – commonly referred to as the Ten Days of Penitence – we have anespecially good opportunity to make up for past wrongs and start anew.

Morefully, the verse quoted above reads, “Return, O Israel, unto G-d your G-d, foryou have stumbled in your iniquity.” Iniquity – transgression of G-d’s will –is like a stumbling block impeding an individual from proper progress on thepath that will strengthen his or her relationship with G-d. To understand this– just what this relationship is, and how transgressions impede it – let usdwell for a bit on the purpose of life.

G-dHimself is omnipresent and all-powerful; if He did not specifically will itotherwise, the universe and all created entities would be simply overwhelmed byHim and cease to exist in their own right. One may visualize a brilliant light,more blinding than a million suns, filling all of space with its intensity;unless there were some way to conceal or withhold that brilliance, nothing elsein the universe would be discernible. Certainly a mere light bulb or candleflame would be imperceptible, overwhelmed in this all-pervasive energy. In acomparable fashion, G-d conceals Himself from our open perception in this world– so much so that a person might not even realize He exists, G-d forbid – sinceif He were to reveal Himself in all His Glory, the entirety of creation wouldsimply be absorbed in His omnipresence and cease to exist as we know it. Whenwe wish to refer to this aspect of G-d Himself, overwhelming in all His Glory,we use the Tetragrammaton (the four-letter Name of G-d, pronounced Havayein everyday speech); if we mean G-d in His self-imposed state of “incognito”discussed above, we use a word which implies concealment and restriction inHebrew, the Divine name Elokim.

Now,actually, the necessity of concealing the “blinding light” of pure G-dlinessfrom the world is all part of G-d’s “master plan” of creation: just as a lightis most striking and beautiful when it shines forth out of the darkness, G-d deliberatelyconcealed His “light,” but also gave us a means of revealing it even in theresulting darkness of this physical world. This is accomplished through theTorah which He gave to us Jews: each time a Jew performs a mitzvah (religiousprecept), it’s like flipping a switch that makes the connection between thatindividual and G-d, causing some of the G-dly “light” to shine on his or herown soul in particular and on the world in general. This open revelation ofG-dliness even where it had previously been concealed is one of the most beautifulmanifestations of G-d’s sovereignty over the universe; indeed, it is one of thevery reasons He created the universe at all. This, then, is our challenge inlife: to be the spiritual “lamplighters” of this dark world. It can be a tryingtask, at times requiring the worshipper to sublimate his or her own naturaldesire for hedonism in deference to G-d’s will, but this is by no meansimpossible.

In fact,each Jewish person has an inextinguishable love for G d deeply rooted in his orher soul, and this is what gives us – and has given us for thousands of years –the motivation and the strength to sublimate our own petty, worldly desires,and even to transform them completely into G-dly desires. This burning love forG-d that should motivate every aspect of a person’s life can be brought out andcultivated by the individual’s reflecting at length on the indivisibleomnipresence of G-d, as the verse expresses it (Deuteronomy 4:39): “Know thisday and take unto your heart that G-d, He is G-d; in the heavens above and uponthe earth below, there is no other.” This loses something in the translation,since in Hebrew it reads, “... take into your heart that Havaye, He isElokim ...”; these are the names of G-d explained above.

It isone of the fundamental principles of Judaism that G-d is One in the mostperfect and basic unity. Even though He relates to us through various aspectsand attributes (such as those represented by, on the one hand, the name Havaye,the unimpeded outpouring of G-d’s creative Force, and, on the other hand, thename Elokim, the restraining Force that allows this creation by the nameHavaye to take place to begin with), it would be a cardinal error tothink that this implies any sort of plurality in G-d, Heaven forbid. Forexample, it can be seen that since Elokim, the concealing attribute ofG-d, is intrinsically necessary for Havaye, the creative attribute, tocreate, Elokim itself, in this context, is a function of Havaye.This is a profoundly deep concept, and is what the verse actually means bysaying, “Havaye is Elokim.” (For further elucidation ofthis concept, see Tanya, Part II, chapter 6.) Honest realization that Gd pervades the universe, and is the only true source of existence, stimulates aperson to the heartfelt love of G-d that enables him or her to overcome anyobstacles to bringing G-dly “light” into the world, and as a reward for ourefforts along those lines, in the Messianic era G-dliness will be openlyrevealed.

In humanterms, Elokim – concealment of G-dliness – represents a person’s worldlypursuits and desires, a feeling that he or she is independent from G-d. It isup to us to bring an appreciation of Havaye – G-d’s all pervasiveness –into our daily lives, nullifying our own will in deference to G-d.

This isalluded to in the two names of our forefather Jacob: the Hebrew spelling of hisname Yaakov hints at the struggle to draw Havaye (represented inthe name Yaakov by its initial letter, Yud – the initial letterof the written name Havaye) into the very lowest levels (represented bythe remaining letters, which form the Hebrew word eikev, meaning theheel of the foot – the very lowest part of the body). However, after thestruggle against corporeality, against “worldliness” – symbolized by Elokim– is won, we refer to Jacob’s other name, Yisroel, which means “... youhave struggled with Elokim ...and have won.” (See Genesis 32:29.)

Now, itis noteworthy that the verse (in I Kings, chapter 18) repeats the phrase “Havayeis Elokim” twice. This is because that phrase actually representstwo concepts: the first is as we have discussed above; the second is that G-d’sown unknowable, unfathomable Self, so to speak, is infinitely higher than anylevel of manifestation, even the level of Havaye. Compared to G-d’s very“Essence,” as it were, even Havaye is considered like Elokim –worldly matters.

Thesignificance of this is as follows: A person’s worship of G-d should reallybegin with the basics and build up from there: by observing mitzvos, he or sheshould strive to draw the “light” of Havaye onto his or her soul. Thisstriving is that associated with the name Yaakov; only afterwards canthe person attain the level associated with the name Yisroel. However,if one transgresses a mitzvah (G-d forbid), one hinders the spiritualbenefit of Havaye from reaching him or her. This is because the mysticalsource of the mitzvos themselves is the spiritual level associated with thename Havaye, so transgressing mitzvos, G-d forbid, impedes therevelation of that level.

If, aswe have said, one must draw Havaye to oneself as the starting point ofone’s worship, and one has prevented that through transgressing, is theindividual now cut off from bringing him- or herself close to G-d? The answeris emphatically NO, for in His mercy G-d always accepts true repentance. WhenG-d sees that a person repents from the depths of his or her very self, Heresponds in kind – from His own very Self, so to Speak – from the second levelof “Havaye is Elokim” mentioned above. At this sublime level,even Havaye, the source of the mitzvos, is considered like Elokim,insignificant worldly matters; any gap left in the revelation of thespirituality that should have shone upon the person from the level of Havaye,but which was prevented from doing so by the worshipper’s failure toperform mitzvos, can therefore be filled in, and he or she gets a chance tostart again. Nothing can truly “impede” G-d from relating to a Jew if He reallywants to do.

That iswhy the prophet advises, “Return, O Israel, unto [the second level, the pointwhere even] Havaye is your Elokim.” And these Ten Days ofPenitence, from Rosh Hashana. through Yom Kippur, are especially favorable forachieving this heartfelt repentance.

--### --

Ó 2001 Dach Holdings, Ltd. Please note that theforegoing is an informal adaptation by a private person, and that, therefore,errors are possible. Also, the Hebrew original contains much more than couldpossibly be presented here, and constitutes a much more direct transmission ofthe Alter Rebbe’s teachings. Furthermore, the adaptation may contain supplementary orexplanatory material not in the original, and not marked as such in any way.Thus, for those with the ability to learn in the original, this adaptationshould not be considered a substitute for the maamar. Good Shabbos! May we,together with all our brethren and sisters, the Jewish People everywhere, beblessed with a g’mar chasima tova.

B”H

Ha’azinu

Ha’azinu

An adaptation of the Maamar found in Likutei Torah

Summary

In coming into this world, the Jewish soul undergoes four general stages of transformation, in which it becomes progressively more suited to life in a physical body. These are referred to in the prayer Elokai Neshama as “O my G-d, the soul which You gave within me is pure; You created it; You formed it; You blew it into me.”

The spiritual source of the soul, however, transcends all four of these levels. Also, not all of a person’s soul descends through these levels and is enclothed within the body; the main portion of the soul remains on high on the level of its spiritual source. This “heavenly” portion of the soul is referred to as a person’s mazal.

T’shuva, usually translated “repentance” but literally meaning “return,” essentially means a person’s elevation and return of his or her soul to its mazal and spiritual source. We must strive to achieve this every day, through the Shema prayer especially.

However, it is on Shabbos that t’shuva is more comprehensively achieved, since on Shabbos the entire universe is elevated and returns to its spiritual source. That is why the words t’shuva and shabbos are related.

Yom Kippur, the “Shabbos of Shabbosses” is the main day of t’shuva, and the Shabbosses of the year are but a glimmer of the spiritual level of Yom Kippur.

The second set of Tablets (containing the Ten Commandments) was given on Yom Kippur. This is fitting, since the mitzvos of the Torah, encapsulated in the Ten Commandments, draw down upon the person performing them a manifestation of G-dliness associated with G-d’s very “Essence.” This process of drawing down G-dliness through prior effort on our part is similar to the manner in which t’shuva, particularly on Yom Kippur, means returning to the very source of our souls, in response to which G-d bestows forgiveness and blessing upon us.

This “two-way street” associated with Yom Kippur – our striving to return to G-d and thereby meriting G-d’s revelation and blessings upon us – is symbolized by rain, which falls to earth from clouds that have previously been formed by vapors from the earth. This is the mystical allusion in the phrase “My teaching shall drop like the rain.” On the other hand, there is a level of G-dly revelation which stems from a source far higher than any our mortal worship can reach. This G-dly benevolence is symbolized by dew, as in the phrase “my speech shall flow like the dew,” and is bestowed upon us as G-d’s gift on the holiday of Sukkos.

____________________________

Virtually all of this week’s Torah portion, Ha’azinu, is in the form of a song, in which Moshe charged the heavens and the earth with the task of bearing eternal witness to the teachings which he had transmitted to the Jews in the Torah (see Deuteronomy 31:28-30). Towards the beginning, Moshe states (Deuteronomy 32:2), “My teaching [i.e., the Torah] shall drop like the rain; my speech shall flow like the dew….”

Every word in Torah is meaningful; nothing is simply flowery language or a figure of speech. Concerning the significance of the words “rain” and “dew,” the Talmud states (Ta’anis 4a) that the Jews made an inappropriate request of Hashem, as it says (Hosea 6:3), “He [G-d] shall come to us like the rain”; G-d, however, responded with a more appropriate blessing, namely (Hosea 14:6), “I will be as the dew to Israel.” To understand the reason our sages compared the visitation of G-d’s Presence upon the Jews to rain and dew, and to appreciate the difference between the two, we first need to understand the concept of t’shuva (usually translated “repentance” but literally meaning “return”) – in particular the Talmudic dictum (Shabbos 153a) that one should engage in t’shuva every day.

The main idea of t’shuva is as expressed by the verse (Ecclesiastes 12:7), “And the spirit will return [tashuv] unto G-d Who gave it.” In this verse, G-d is referred to by the Divine name Elokim. Similarly, upon awakening each morning (in the prayer Elokai Neshama) we recite, “O my G-d [also using the name Elokim], the soul which You gave within me is pure; You created it; You formed it; You blew it into me ….” The prayer thus uses four expressions (“gave…created…formed…blew”) for the soul’s investiture into the body. This is symbolic of the fact that it is a great descent for the soul, which is literally a “part of G-d,” to dwell within a physical body, and in order for such a radical change to be possible at all, the soul undergoes four broad stages of transformation. Over the course of these stages, the soul’s lofty spiritual nature is progressively “hidden,” so that it can ultimately assume a form compatible with physical existence.

(For example, the expression “You blew it into me” alludes to a relatively separate existence from its G-dly source, just as the wind produced by a person blowing originates within that person but is now separate from him or her. At that point, the wind, which previously had been concealed within the person, is brought out, revealed. On the other hand, the expression “You formed it” hints at the closer and more subtle relationship of a person and his or her thoughts: the thoughts are not identical with the person, but are nevertheless not quite separate from him or her. They remain hidden to the outside observer.)

These four stages correspond to the four Hebrew letters of the Tetragrammaton (the ineffable Divine name referred to outside the context of prayer as Havaye). Each of these letters – yud, then hey, then vav, then another hey – symbolizes one broad stage in the progressive concealment or “contraction” of G-dliness necessary for this physical universe to come into existence. The letter yud, written as a point or dot, symbolizes that level analogous to the human capacity to conceive new ideas (a capacity known in Hebrew as chochma): the idea springs into the person’s consciousness from some nameless and unknowable source, but is not yet quite accessible to the person. One knows one has the “germ of an idea,” but can’t quite put one’s finger on it at this stage.

The next letter of the name Havaye, the letter hey, is written in the shape of a square (albeit with openings), and has length and breadth. This symbolizes that level analogous to the human capacity of bina: the ability to take that unformed “germ” of an idea and expand it, reflecting upon it and considering its implications until one thoroughly understands it – to “flesh it out,” as the expression goes.

The vav, written as a vertical line, represents the transmission of the fully formed idea resulting from the above process to a lower level, which could not have attained that comprehension on its own. (This corresponds to those Divine attributes the Kabbala refers to collectively as z’eir anpin, or “minor countenance,” and which are often abbreviated as z”a.)

Finally, the second hey in the name Havaye represents the dissemination of this transmission outward, to all four corners of even the lowest level. (This corresponds to the Divine attribute of Malchus, or Sovereignty.)

This entire process is hinted at by the verse in this week’s reading (Deuteronomy 32:9), “For G-d’s portion is His nation [i.e., the Jewish People]; Jacob is the lot of His inheritance.” The Divine name used for “G-d” in this verse is Havaye, and the Hebrew word for “portion,” cheilek, can also be translated as “part”; the first half of the verse can thus be read with the alternate meaning, “For His nation [the Jewish People] is a part of Havaye.” In other words, the process by which the Jewish soul descends to the point at which it inhabits a body and may be called “the Jewish people” is one and the same with the process of downward and outward transmission symbolized by the name Havaye, as described above.

Now, in truth, only a portion of the soul undergoes this transformation and descent and is enclothed in the physical body. The main portion of the soul actually remains in its lofty spiritual state. This heavenly part of the soul, as it were, is referred to as a person’s mazal, as in the Talmudic statement (Shabbos 53b; Bava Kama 2b) “A person possesses a mazal” and in the Zohar’s teaching (III:289b), “Everything depends upon the mazal.” The meaning of these statements is that the heavenly, mazal portion of the soul is the source of the spiritual influence and life-force which flows (nozeil in Hebrew) to a person and his or her soul as it exists within the body

Not only physical life-force is transmitted to a person through the mazal, but spiritual influence as well, such as inspiration and thoughts of t’shuva. This is possible because, as the Talmud puts it (Megilla 3a), “Although he [a mortal person] does not see [spiritual things], his mazal sees”: the more sublime portion of one’s soul known as his or her mazal can perceive the spiritual activity in heaven, as it were, and in turn passes on this influence to the person. For the radiation and extension of the soul which descends into the physical body is not separated from its heavenly, mazal component, and therefore continues to receive influence from it. (However, those who are punishable by kares (severance, disconnection, being cut off, as in the numerous verses to the effect that “that soul shall be cut off …”) do experience a disconnection between the mazal, their source of spiritual influence, and their bodily soul – may Hashem save us from such things.)

It is written (Song of Songs 4:15), “… and streams [nozlim in Hebrew] from Levanon.” This verse may be interpreted in the same sense as (Job 28:12) “From where shall wisdom be found?” Because of the Hebrew usage of the word “from,” the latter is often explained in Chassidic philosophy as though it read, “Wisdom may be found from ‘Where’” – in which the word “Where,” with its connotation of an unfathomable, unreachable place, a place for which one can only search yet will always exclaim, “where is it,” is to be understood as the name of the source of wisdom. In this sense, “nozlim from Levanon” means that the stream of spiritual influence which flows to a person comes from “Levanon” – a term referring to the mazal, the source of that flow, which is, as mentioned earlier, even higher than the highest level transmitted to us through the name Havaye.

This, then, is the essence of t’shuva: for one to elevate and “return” one’s soul, by dint of nullification of one’s own desires and of selflessness in the worship of G-d, to the level at which it began, that inconceivable level of “Where” which is one’s mazal. Indeed, this is the very reason the soul descended into this world, for its elevation to this level can only come about as a result of our worship here on earth.

And this is the mystical significance of the verse “And the spirit will return [tashuv] unto G-d Who gave it.” (Because G-d is infinite, there is no limit to the heights our knowledge of Him, attained through Torah study, can reach. We frequently therefore find the same terms used in one context to describe a certain aspect of G-d, and in another context, a seemingly different aspect. For example, the word “darkness” can be used to describe a low degree of revelation; in this context, “light” is superior to “darkness.” However, if we learn that light itself proceeds from a place so sublime as to be beyond all human perception, we may also use the word “darkness” to describe this hidden, imperceptible source of the light, in which context “darkness” is superior to “light.”)

The name Elokim, signifying concealment and restraint – such as that used by G-d in concealing His overpowering “light” from our perception so that we will not be overwhelmed – is usually used to describe a lesser degree of G-dly revelation than that signified by the name Havaye, which, as noted above, is associated with revelation and transmission of G-dly influence into creation. However, we also find the name Elokim describing a level of G-dliness superior to the name Havaye, similar to the way “dark” may be called superior to “light.” It is in this sense that the verse states “And the spirit will return unto Elokim Who gave it.” As explained above, the soul as we know it comes to us by way of four stages, referred to in the prayer Elokai Neshama: “My G-d [Elokim], the soul which You gave within me … You created it; You formed it; You blew it into me.” T’shuva – return – entails the soul’s return to the level which transcends all of these, even the level of “gave” – the inconceivable level of Elokim, the giver.

And one must engage in t’shuva every day. For, although the soul “returns” to its Maker each night during sleep, this only brings it to the spiritual level referred to by the expression “You blew it into me,” the level at which the soul “separates,” as it were, from G-d in order to invest itself into the body. By contrast, one must strive each day to return one’s soul to the more comprehensive source discussed above. This is achievable during prayer, specifically the Shema.

In the first verse of the Shema prayer (Deuteronomy 6:4), “Hear O Israel, G-d is our G-d, G-d is one,” the word for “hear,” Shema, may be understood as connoting “gathering together.” The meaning then would be “Gather together, O Israel”: the soul’s various intellectual and emotional faculties (referred to as “Israel”), which have been distracted from G-dly pursuits and gone off in all directions in pursuit of worldly matters, should come together again, refocus, in the service of G-d. The person should realize that, instead of all those worldly pursuits, “G-d is One,” there is nothing else but Him, to the point that one is actually willing to sacrifice one’s very life for Him – thus returning his or her soul to G-d.

The way to achieve this is in accordance with the passage (Deuteronomy 30:15-19), “Behold, I have set before you this day life and good, death and evil … and you should choose life.” Everything has a material and a spiritual aspect to it; the material, non-G-dly, aspect, is compared to death, while the spiritual and the G-dly, to life. When a person reflects at length and achieves a true appreciation of the fact that only G-d counts, he or she will automatically “choose life,” that is, reject all but holy concerns and attach him- or herself to the One G-d. Moreover, from the observation that a great deal of vitality seems to have been granted to worldly pleasures, one can extrapolate and realize that if so much life-force is given (for whatever reason) to that which is in opposition to G-d’s will, how much more spiritual vitality and union with G-d is the lot of those who fulfill His will, by observance of His mitzvos. This will lead a person to radical change: the very realization that he or she is so far from G-d, because he or she is so thoroughly immersed in material concerns, causes a corresponding yearning for G-d and nothing but G-d, and an utter attachment to the true source of all life, G-d Himself.

This “rebound” effect – that one’s very distance from G-d actually stimulates one to a love and yearning for G-d Himself – is the reason why, in one respect, it is said (Talmud Brochos 34b), “In the place penitents stand, even complete saints cannot stand.”

Now, t’shuva is associated with Shabbos (the Sabbath) as evidenced by the fact that the letters of the word shabbos are identical, though in a different order, to those of the word tashuv (which can be spelled without a vav)(see Midrash, Bereishis Rabba chapter 22). After G-d created the world in six days, Scripture tells us (Genesis 2:3), “For on [Shabbos] He rested from all His labor.” What is the meaning of this, in light of the fact that G-d, Who is not a physical being (G-d forbid), obviously had no need of rest? The explanation is as follows:

When one exerts oneself to concentrate all one’s attention on what one is doing, and subsequently stops that activity, he or she experiences a sense of satisfaction and rest resulting from the freeing up of one’s attentions. It is as though one’s attention, which had been totally preoccupied by that task, has now returned to its natural, unfettered state and rejoined the rest of one’s mind. Saying that G-d “rested” does not mean that He was tired (as though such a thing were possible); rather, it is a statement about the life-force G-d channeled into the universe during the six days of creation. It is the Torah’s allegorical way of expressing to us mortals something of the way in which G-d’s creative energy, which had previously been invested into the things being created, experienced an elevation and return to their G-dly source after creation was over, i.e., on the Sabbath. And this source is higher than any manifestation of G-dliness used to create the universe, even the most sublime spiritual aspects thereof. We thus see that the concepts of “return” to one’s ultimate source within G-d – t’shuva – and of the Sabbath – Shabbos – are related. (This is also the significance of the teaching that “t’shuva preceded the world.” By definition, the level to which the spiritual life-force of the world returns in t’shuva is higher than anything in this created universe.)

Every day, a person is presented with the opportunity to achieve something akin to the level of Shabbos – namely, during prayer, as discussed above. Gathering one’s “stray” attentions from the concerns of this world and elevating them back to G-d alone is similar to the real, objective, spiritual elevation which the entire universe experiences in return to its G-dly source on Shabbos. In fact, the former is a preparation for the latter, and that is why it is said that “one who exerts oneself [in preparation during the weekdays] before Shabbos will eat on Shabbos.”

Now, Yom Kippur is called “the Shabbos of Shabboses” (Leviticus 16:31). This means that Yom Kippur stands in the same relation to the Shabboses of the year as Shabbos does to the days of the week. Just as weekdays are a “taste” of Shabbos and one must engage in t’shuva every day in preparation for the spiritual elevation – t’shuva – of Shabbos, so is each Shabbos of the year only a glimmer of Yom Kippur, which is the main day of t’shuva.

To explain in more detail:

The main idea of t’shuva is negating one’s will in deference to G-d’s will, even though this surpasses one’s own comprehension. On Yom Kippur, G-d likewise reveals an aspect of His will which surpasses any comprehensible revelation. This is hinted at by the statement (Leviticus 16:30) that on Yom Kippur, “you will be cleansed of all your sins before G-d [Havaye].” That is, you will achieve a level which is “before Havaye,” which is higher than the entire order of G-d’s manifestation to creation symbolized by the name Havaye. This is why, on Yom Kippur, we beseech G-d, “forgive us.” The concept of forgiveness is not the avoidance of punishment. Rather, if someone has wronged his or her friend, they will ask for forgiveness even if they have no fear at all of retribution: they simply long for the restoration of their friend’s favor. Similarly, if we have transgressed G-d’s will (G-d forbid) we cannot bear being “out of favor” with G-d and plead for the restoration of that favor.

In fact, as the verse says (Numbers 14:20), “I have forgiven you as you requested.” This hints at the fact that the extent of the forgiveness, the extent to which we receive G-d’s favor, is commensurate with the extent, the sincerity and the depth, of our request. The greater the degree to which we negate our own will, totally nullifying ourselves in deference to G-d, the greater the revelation of G-d’s favor and forgiveness granted us. The highest level of nullifying oneself before G-d is that level at which one realizes that truly, nothing exists but G-d Himself, and therefore he or she sincerely has no desire for anything at all but G-dliness. If one achieves this, then G-d responds to him or her in like measure, as it says (Isaiah 1:18), “Though your sins are as scarlet, they will be white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they will be white as wool.” This refers to the exalted spiritual level alluded to in the mystical, allegorical description of G-d in the verse (Daniel 7:9), “the hair of his head was like pure wool,” and is in accordance with the principle that the higher the level of t’shuva, the greater the level of G-dly revelation. This is the t’shuva of Yom Kippur.

The Torah relates that G-d gave the Jewish people two sets of Tablets on Mount Sinai: the first on the holiday of Shavuos, when the Torah was given; then, after these original tablets were smashed by Moshe when the Jews sinned with the Golden Calf, the second set was given when G-d forgave the Jews on Yom Kippur. It is significant that the tablets which endured were given on Yom Kippur. The Ten Commandments engraved upon the Tablets, particularly the first two (“I am G-d your G-d,” and “You shall have no other gods before Me”) actually encapsulate the entire Torah.

“I am G-d, your G-d” symbolizes the manner in which performance of the Torah’s positive mitzvos draws down upon the person a revelation of G-dliness stemming from a spiritual level transcending even the name Havaye: Havaye is a “name” of G-d, but names are only useful in relating to another. When one thinks of oneself, one does not think of one’s given name, but uses the pronoun “I.” The Hebrew word “I,” anochi, therefore symbolizes a more “inward,” personal, as it were, aspect of G-dliness than the names Havaye and Elokim. The first commandment, “Anochi Havaye Elokecha,” (I am Havaye, your G-d [Elokim]) alludes to the fact that what is transmitted to the Jews by performing mitzvos is a level of G-dliness originating on the sublime level of anochi; from there it proceeds to us by means of the successive levels represented by the name Havaye (as explained above), and ends up relating to us on the close, personal level of Elokecha (your [own personal] G-d).

“You shall have no other gods before Me” symbolizes the fact that transgression of the Torah’s negative injunctions literally impedes this revelation of G-dliness from reaching us. The Hebrew words for “before Me” literally mean “in front of My face,” and the word panai (“my face”) can also be translated “my inner self.” Sins (“other gods”) act as a metaphorical barrier “in front of My inner self,” preventing that transcendent, inner revelation from flowing.

The ability to achieve, through mitzvah observance, this utter communion with G-d Himself could only last when granted on Yom Kippur, for on this day the Jews themselves commit their innermost selves to G-d.

We are now in a position to appreciate the significance of the verse “He [G-d] shall come to us like the rain.” As every schoolchild knows, rain falls from clouds, which can cover and darken the sky; clouds in turn are formed of vapors that rise from the earth. This is a beautiful allegory: when a person engages in t’shuva by taking to heart just how far they have grown from G-d, they are stimulated to a feeling of bitter regret over the manner in which they have blocked the light of G-dly revelation from reaching them. The vapors which rise up from earth to the heavens symbolize a person’s heartfelt yearning to return to the spiritual; the resulting clouds represent one’s regret over the thick darkness one has drawn over the heavens, blocking G-d’s “light” from shining upon him or her. However, as mentioned above, there is a “rebound” effect: contemplation of one’s very distance from G-d actually stimulates one to a heartfelt love and yearning for G-d Himself, to which G-d responds from the depths of His own “heart,” allegorically speaking. The sincere regret and repentance symbolized by the dark clouds brings G-d to respond in kind, breaking through the cloud and pouring down life-giving rain – spiritual blessing – upon the person.

This is also the meaning of the verse in our Torah portion, “My teaching [the Torah] shall drop like the rain.” The Hebrew word for “my teaching,” likchi, is etymologically related to the word meaning “to take” (perhaps in the sense of “taking” or “drawing” a lesson). The implication is that through observance of mitzvos, one literally “takes” or draws G-d’s very essence to oneself (as discussed above). This is in accordance with the Kabbalistic teaching (see Tikkunei Zohar) that the 248 positive precepts are the “248 limbs of the King”: just as a person’s limbs are vehicles for the expression of the person’s will (if he or she wishes to pick something up, the arm gives expression to that wish; if he or she wants to go somewhere, the feet do so, etc.), so does each individual mitzvah execute a particular element of G-d’s will and carry with it a particular manifestation of His very Self, so to speak.

And although the mitzvos take the form of commands concerning physical things, such as wool for tzitzis, leather hide for tefillin, and money for charity, this does not contradict the idea that they accomplish a communion with G-d’s own Essence: when one takes hold of the king’s arm, he or she is grasping even the inner vitality and life-force in that limb, not just the external aspect. This is hinted at by the Hebrew word our verse uses for “shall drop” (ya’arof): this word is etymologically related to that meaning “the back of the neck” (oref), an expression often used in Chassidic philosophy to indicate an external or outer state – as contrasted from the deeper and more inward state connoted by the dual-meaning word panim (“face/inward aspect”). In other words, “My teachings shall drop” implies that, although the means by which we accomplish this communion with G-d is through the relatively superficial or external vehicle of physical mitzvah observance (indicated by the word oref), the result is nevertheless likchi: “taking” G-d’s very Self, which is embodied within those mitzvos as the inner will and life-force is embodied within the limbs, and drawing it upon ourselves

And this is achieved through “rain” (“my teachings shall drop like the rain”): G-d is willing to bestow upon us this manifestation of His inner Essence in response to the prerequisite of our own sincere desire to relate to Him – as symbolized by the rain, which, as in the simile above, descends only after vapors rise up from the earth: our own heartfelt worship.

However, this mode of worship (while absolutely necessary and required of us) has its limitations. It can only succeed if the worshipper possesses knowledge of Torah. This is because this bestowal of G-d’s “light” must descend to us through the progressive stages symbolized by the name Havaye, and, as explained earlier, the very first of these is a level associated with G-d’s attribute of chochma (usually translated “wisdom”). If one does not possess the wisdom of the Torah, the transmission cannot “go through.” That is why the prior verse says (Deuteronomy 32:1), “Listen, O Heavens, and I will speak; Hear, O Earth, the words of my mouth.” “Heaven” refers to the Written Torah, and “Earth” to the Oral Torah. Before there can be the transmission of G-dliness alluded to by “my teachings shall drop like the rain,” there must be Torah knowledge as symbolized by “Listen, O Heavens” and “Hear, O Earth.”

Finally, we are now in a position to understand why the request of the Jews that “[G-d] shall come to us like the rain” was considered by our sages to be “inappropriate.” Although it is true that, from our mortal perspective, the most we can hope to achieve is that revelation of G-dliness which we have been comparing to rain because of its dependence on first being aroused by our worship here below, G-d is not bound by any such restriction. G-d, Who is infinite and omnipotent, can bestow blessings and revelations upon us originating on spiritual planes utterly beyond the capability of our mortal worship to reach. This level, aroused by G-d “from above,” so to speak, as opposed to by us “from below,” is compared to dew. It is bestowed by G-d not in response to our worship – that is, not as something that is “coming to us” as a result of our having merited it through successful worship – but rather, as a gift, totally undeserved and certainly not “owed” to us, but instead bestowed out of G-d’s pleasure, as it were, at the efforts we have made to draw close to Him.

And for that reason, this level of G-dly revelation is associated with the holiday of Sukkos. On Yom Kippur, we work at our relationship with G-d, striving mightily to do t’shuva and arouse a response in kind from above. However, there is a limit to how high we can reach in drawing down G-dly response (although, as explained at length above, this level stems from a source superior even to the name Havaye). By contrast, after the worship of Yom Kippur is accomplished, G-d “goes the extra mile” for us, so to speak, and gives us not only more than we “bargained for,” but more than we could possibly have achieved on our own: the free gift of the inexpressibly holy and exalted revelations that flow to us on the holiday of Sukkos.

-- ### --

Ó 2001. Please note that the foregoing is an informal adaptation by a private person, and that, therefore, errors are possible. Also, the Hebrew original contains much more than could possibly be presented here, and constitutes a much more direct transmission of the Alter Rebbe’s teachings. Furthermore, the adaptation may contain supplementary or explanatory material not in the original, and not marked as such in any way. Thus, for those with the ability to learn in the original, this adaptation should not be considered a substitute for the maamar. Good Shabbos! May we, together with all our brethren and sisters, the Jewish People everywhere, be blessed with a g’mar chasima tova.

B”H

Succos

Ush’avtem Mayim B’sason

Mima’aynei Hayeshua

An adaptation of the Maamar found in Likutei Torah

____________________________

One of the most outstanding observances of the holiday of Succos in the time of the Holy Temple was the ceremony in which water was drawn from an underground spring to be poured on the altar in connection with the holiday sacrifices. This water-drawing was considered so auspicious an event that it was conducted with unbounded joy and celebration, known as the simchas beis hashoeva, the celebration of the water-drawing chamber. The Talmud relates that in addition to singing and dancing, the greatest saints and sages of Israel would juggle fire and perform other tricks in expression of their indescribable exultation. The Talmud sums it up with the statement, “Whoever has not witnessed the celebration of the water-drawing chamber has never witnessed joy in his life.”

Even today, although, alas, we no longer are able to pour water on the altar in the Holy Temple (may it be rebuilt with the immediate coming of the Messiah), we still joyously commemorate the water-drawing ceremony with exuberant singing and dancing on the holiday of Succos. In fact, the entire holiday is so thoroughly bound up with the theme of sheer, uncontainable joy that the Torah refers to it by the phrase, “the season of our rejoicing.”

Why is it that the water-drawing ceremony is considered such an incredibly joyous occasion? What, after all, is the reason for all that celebration?

Another interesting point that wants clarification: The pouring of water on the altar, a ritual performed only on the holiday of Succos, may be contrasted with the practice – observed throughout the year, including on Succos – of pouring wine on the altar. The commandment to pour wine on the altar is expressly mentioned in the Torah in several places, while the commandment of pouring water on Succos was orally transmitted from G-d to Moses at Mount Sinai (see Talmud, Succah 34a; Zevachim 110b), but is not expressly written in the Torah. Why should this be so?

To understand both of the above questions, we must examine the underlying spiritual significance of both the wine-pouring and the water-pouring.

(Before doing so, it is desirable to clarify a fundamental point of Jewish philosophy: G-d is, of course, one and indivisible. Yet we frequently find, especially in mystical sources, references to this “part” of G-d or that “part” of G-d, or statements to the effect that certain aspects of our worship reflect and connect us with particular “levels” of G-d. What is the meaning of this?

The answer is that G-d, although essentially unknowable, desired to reveal Himself to us to the extent we mortals can grasp, and to make this possible, He created us from the start in such a way as to mirror Himself. The idea is that, by Torah-guided contemplation of our own makeup, which is basically an analogy to G-d, we can come to appreciate, to some extent, something of G-d Himself. This is the inner meaning of the statement that G-d created Mankind “in His image,” and of the verse “From my flesh, I perceive G-d.”

In this case, the following analogy (though necessarily inexact) may help us to understand the idea of different “levels” of G-d:

A human being is one individual, to be sure, but a multifarious individual nonetheless. Each person has many different aspects to his or her personality, a whole range of likes and dislikes, emotions and attributes that, together, make up the whole. Yet clearly, they are all part of a single, undivided person. And on a deeper level, we can speak of a person as having a single core, an elusive point, which is the very essence of their personality – their very “self.” At this level, everything comes together, or more accurately, everything else proceeds from this point, but the indefinable point of the “self” cannot be divided into different parts. When considered from someone else’s perspective, an individual’s various personality traits are a part of that individual. However, from the internal perspective of the person’s own inner “self,” his or her very “soul,” each individual personality trait – generosity or stinginess, intelligence or dullness – is by no means the definition of the person, of the soul, but a mere manifestation or outward reflection thereof. That “point of self” remains indivisible.

What is more, a person’s various emotions and character traits are not all equal. Although they coexist within the person at the same time, some are relatively superficial aspects of the personality, while others – closer, as it were, to the core, to the “self” – are deeper. Any given act a person does may be said to have been motivated by a particular “level” of the personality. For example, a person may enjoy skiing, but this activity, and the appreciation of it, are relatively superficial aspects of a person’s total character. Or, a student may be worried about an upcoming test, and devote much time and energy to preparing for it. This activity is motivated by a concern which is deeper rooted within the person than their enjoyment of skiing, as evidenced by the fact that the student will, if necessary, forgo a skiing trip in order to study. And, if the person learns that a sick friend is calling for them from the sickbed, they will respond from deeper still within themselves, even neglecting their study in order to care for the friend.

G-d created us in this way to reflect the way He relates to us. G-d, although indeed one and indivisible, has chosen to manifest Himself to the universe (similar to the way in which a person’s personality traits manifest aspects of the person’s inner self) on a number of levels, and the above analogy helps us to comprehend something of how this works. It also helps illustrate how we can “tap into” various levels of G-dliness through performance of mitzvos.

Human nature is such that when one individual does another a favor or some other positive act, the recipient automatically feels closer, warmer, toward their friend. Not only that, but the extent of the “good vibrations” that the second person has toward the first is determined by the particular favor or positive act that was done to begin with. If the first person lent the second a pencil, the borrower might feel warm toward him or her; if A lent B money in time of need, certainly B’s natural feelings of warmth and appreciation would well up from a deeper level of B’s personality; and in both of these cases the good will evoked would be relatively superficial compared to the overwhelming feeling of closeness that would result if the first person had saved the other’s very life. Our relationship with G-d is similar, in that whenever a Jewish person performs a mitzvah, he or she brings G-d closer to him or her. Not only that, but each specific mitzvah evokes a response from G-d on a particular spiritual level. (Indeed, the very word “mitzvah” is etymologically related to the word tzavsa, connection, since doing mitzvos connects the worshipper and G-d.) Not only does performing a mitzvah evoke a positive response from G-d generally, but the “depth” – allegorically speaking – of G-d’s “warm feelings” depends upon the individual mitzvah that was done and the manner in which it was performed. It has been revealed to us in the Torah that certain mitzvos “reach” a deeper level, so to speak, of G-d’s “personality,” are closer to His Essence, than others, and evoke a response from those levels.

And now, armed with this insight into mitzvos in general, we can go on to examine the mitzvos of water- and wine-drawing in particular.)

Two characteristics of wine are that, in the words of Scripture (Judges 9: ), it “gladdens G-d and men; and that, as the Talmud says (Sanhedrin 38a), “When wine goes in, secrets come out.” These two qualities – inducing joy and revealing secrets – are related, because the spiritual source of wine (the qualities of which physical wine mirrors) is the Divine attribute of Bina, “Understanding.”

As explained above, this term does not mean that G-d has a mind and “understands” things; rather, it is a metaphor intended to convey a spiritual concept.

There is a certain lofty spiritual level of G-dly manifestation in which G-dly revelation is present and complete, but so rarified and exalted as to remain beyond our ability to fully perceive; this is analogous to that human intellectual stage wherein the germ of an idea has manifested itself within the person’s consciousness, but, though the idea is all there, it is still not quite within their grasp. This stage (both the spiritual and its human counterpart) is known as chochma, which is usually translated “wisdom” but technically refers to this capacity to conceive new ideas.

(Note that the source of the idea – the place, so to speak, from which it popped into the person’s mind – is utterly unknowable. This too is associated with a spiritual level, that of kesser, “crown,” so named because, like a crown, it sits above the person’s head or intellect.)

The next “lower” level of G-dly manifestation in the order that G-d, in His mysterious wisdom, has chosen to utilize is analogous to the human faculty of “understanding.” This intellectual faculty is that which contemplates chochma’s unformed germ of an idea, plumbing its ramifications until the idea, previously elusive and inarticulable, is fully developed. Likewise, there is a level of Divine manifestation whose place is just below chochma (the highest level) in the hierarchy, as it were, of progressive degrees by which G-dliness is transmitted to the world. (Although we said above that there exists a level, kesser, superior even to chochma, chochma is called the “highest” level in this hierarchy because kesser transcends the whole concept of progressive transmission into this world.) This next spiritual level, at which G-d manifests Himself in a manner more accessible to us (as if the concentrated “germ” or “point” of G-dliness of the chochma stage were opened up and “fleshed out” so that we can fully comprehend it) is called bina, “understanding.”

(There are, below bina, another eight progressively “lower” degrees of Divine manifestation, culminating with malchus, G-d’s attribute of “sovereignty.”)

Not only did G-d make Mankind in His image, but also everything in the universe is derived from some spiritual level which it mirrors and to which it hints in its physical manifestation. To return to wine, the reason it both makes people glad and brings out their innermost secrets is that it mirrors the spiritual characteristics of its heavenly source and “model,” the Divine attribute of bina, which reveals the previously hidden secrets concealed within chochma. And that is also why it brings joy: joy results from revelation of the previously concealed. Consider how a human being reacts upon finally attaining a true understanding of a subject which had eluded him or her. Intellectual satisfaction, indeed, actual exultation, does not come from knowing that “I’ve got the right idea somewhere in there,” but from finally mastering and thoroughly understanding it. Wine, which symbolizes the spiritual attribute of bina, thus reflects that attribute’s quality of bringing out the hidden, as well as the resulting joy, by causing the same effects in its material form.

This is one mystical interpretation of the verse ( ) “The mother of the children rejoices”: for reasons explained elsewhere, bina is also called “mother,” and the verse is thus a reference to the fact that rejoicing is associated with bina.

For all that bina is associated with revelation, however, it is, from another perspective, referred to (see Zohar I, 153b; 154; and elsewhere) as alma d’iskasya, the realm of concealment. This is because, concealed within bina is the expression of that transcendent and unknowable level, kesser. Kesser, although the source of the ideas which spring into chochma, cannot be said to be truly expressed in chochma because, as explained above, on the level of chochma the concept is not quite within the person’s grasp. It is only on the level of bina, understanding, that what originated in kesser is fully brought out.

(And in fact, that is another reason bina is associated with joy: it is the expression of kesser, which is compared to “pleasure” or “delight” because those qualities, like kesser itself, transcend reason. (There is no logical reason why one person likes chocolate and another vanilla, for example.))

While the wine was being poured on the altar in the Holy Temple, the leviyim (Levites) would sing songs of praise to G-d. This is appropriate, for, as discussed, wine represents revelation of the hidden, and the leviyim’s function included bringing that level of kesser implicit within bina to explicit revelation. This is hinted at in the verse (Numbers 18:23) “and the Levite, he shall do….” The Hebrew word for “he” (hu) may be understood as a mystical reference to atik yomin, a spiritual level within kesser so lofty it cannot be expressed by name, and is only known as “he.” (The phrase “atik yomin,” which means “Ancient of Days,” is merely a descriptive term, not a proper name.) In that sense, the verse should be read, “and the Levite should ‘do’ (i.e., accomplish or bring out) the level of ‘he’.” And this was done with song and sound, which is also a symbol for openness and revelation (noise is inconsistent with inconspicuous hiding), while pouring the wine.

The singing of the Levites also represents the difference between the degree of joy associated with the pouring of the wine that took place throughout the year, and the increased level of joy attendant upon the wine-pouring on the holidays – especially the holiday of Succos. A person can be joyous, but not to a degree obvious to those around him or her. Their joy can be contained. But there is a point beyond which the person can no longer contain their happiness, and they cannot keep from singing and dancing, clapping, etc. One may say they are “overjoyed.” Succos is “the season of our rejoicing,” and the degree of joy brought about by the wine-pouring was even greater at that time; it is this which is hinted at by the song and commotion of the Levites.

To summarize the rather technical points above: wine symbolizes the spiritual attribute of bina, a high level of Divine manifestation. Wine therefore has the qualities of gladdening and of bringing out secrets, since these are also qualities of bina. Generally speaking, the service of the pouring of the wine brought about a manifestation of the Divine attribute of bina. The wine-pouring was associated with the Levites and with song, since both of these also have aspects of revelation about them

On the other hand, on Succos they also poured water on the altar. This symbolizes the Divine attribute of chochma, which, as explained above, is much higher than the spiritual level of bina. That is why the water ceremony was associated with the kohanim (temple priests): whereas the Levite function was to arouse the people and elevate them to a higher spiritual level – a mode of worship that may be described as proceeding “from below upwards” – the priestly function was to serve as a conduit for G-d’s blessings as they were transmitted to the people, “from on high downwards.” Water represents this, as evidenced by its natural tendency to flow as far down as it can reach. (Perhaps the scientific expression, “water seeks its own level” is an expression of this.)

Additionally, the kohanim’s service was conducted in silence, representative of concealment – an attribute of chochma – as opposed to sound like the Levites’ service, which represented bina.

And just as the kohanim were superior to the leviyim (as the Torah says (Numbers 18:2), “and they [the Levites] will be joined to you [the kohanim] and minister to you”), so was the pouring of water on the altar superior – drawing down a far greater spiritual level, that of chochma – to the pouring of the wine, which drew down bina.

With the above in mind, we can also appreciate why the wine-pouring was expressly written in the Torah, whereas the water-pouring was not.

The “Written Torah,” or Tanach (comprised of the Pentateuch, Prophets and Hagiographa) was composed by G-d in such a way that every single letter (and even the calligraphic flourishes on the letters) represents untold mysteries and lofty spiritual meaning. For this reason, Jewish law is very explicit that in a Torah scroll, each individual letter must be correct. In this context, the written Torah is associated with the Divine attribute of bina, which also is characterized by expression in letters. (For example, when an idea is still in the tenuous chochma stage, it cannot be articulated, even within one’s own mind – it is incapable of expression in words and letters, even in thought – but when it has been brought down to the level of bina, understanding, it can be put into words.)

In the Oral Torah (comprising the entire corpus of Torah knowledge, for example, the mishna and Talmud, which was originally intended to be transmitted orally and was only put into writing to avoid its loss due to Jewish persecution), by contrast, the specific letters or text that one uses in studying a given point is not so important; it’s the intellectual analysis and comprehension of the idea that counts. This focus on the intellect and the idea itself, as opposed to the letters, is indicative of the fact that in this respect, the Oral Torah is associated with chochma. The spiritual reason behind the Oral Torah’s unwritten form is that it is an expression of a spiritual level so lofty that it cannot be put into words, cannot be contained within letters.

This is the meaning of the expression (Shir Hashirim Rabba I), “The words of the Scribes [a name for the Sages of the Oral Torah] are sweeter to Me [G-d] than even the wine of Torah.” As noted above, the Written Torah is associated with bina, which, as has been explained, is symbolized by wine; the phrase “the wine of Torah” thus refers to the Written Torah generally. The above quote, implying therefore that the Oral Torah (“the words of the Scribes”) is dearer to G-d, in a manner of speaking, than the Written Torah, is explained by recalling that the Oral Torah descends from the level of G-d’s chochma, a far loftier spiritual level than that of bina, the source (in this context) of the Written Torah.

And this is why the pouring of the water on Succos engendered such unbounded, indescribable joy. The revelation of the level of bina is inherently joyous, to be sure, and, as noted above, was carried out with song. But on Succos we experience, through the water pouring on the altar, an otherwise impossible level of G-dly revelation: the spiritual level of chochma, essentially incapable of open revelation, is nevertheless miraculously bestowed upon us on Succos. This causes a degree of joy utterly beyond boundaries, to the point where, as our sages said, “Whoever has not witnessed the celebration of the water-drawing chamber has never witnessed joy in his life.”

-------------

Ó 2001. Please note that the foregoing is an informal adaptation by a private person, and that, therefore, errors are possible. Also, the Hebrew original contains much more than could possibly be presented here, and constitutes a much more direct transmission of the Alter Rebbe’s teachings. Furthermore, the adaptation may contain supplementary or explanatory material not in the original, and not marked as such in any way. Thus, for those with the ability to learn in the original, this adaptation should not be considered a substitute for the maamar. Good Shabbos and Good Yom Tov!