One of the first things a person learns when he discovers Rebbe Nachman is the Rebbe’s penchant for accentuating the positive!

When and where Rebbe Nachman told this parable is not recorded. But he told it and since Chanukah is not too far away, we share it now:

A ma’aseh (story, parable).

A son left his father. He was in many lands for a long time, staying with strangers. After a while he returned to his father. The son was proud that he had learned there an important craft: how to make heng-leichter, hanging candelabras or menorahs. He insisted that his father invite all those engaged in menorahmaking in order to display his expertise in the craft. The father complied. He invited all the menorah artisans to see his son’s success, what he had achieved during his time away with strangers.

The son displayed a menorah that he had made. Everyone thought it was very ugly. The father mingled among the craftsmen, asking them for their honest appraisal. They had no choice but to tell him the truth: it was quite ugly

The son bragged to his father, “Did you see the genius of my craft?” The father broke the news to him: nobody thought it was nice. “On the contrary!” answered the son. “That’s exactly how I demonstrated my expertise. I showed everyone his flaw. This menorah has the flaws of each of the local craftsmen. You can see it for yourself.

“This one thought that one piece was ugly, but that another piece was stunning. For the second craftsman, it was just the opposite. What the first one thought was ugly, he thought was beautiful, exquisite—but a different part was atrocious. This was true for all of them: what one thought was repulsive, the other considered attractive, and vice versa.

“I made this menorah solely from flaws in order to show all of them that they aren’t perfect, that no one is perfect. Because what one thinks is beautiful, someone else considers a flaw. But in fact, I can make [a menorah] the way it ought to be.”

Rebbe Nachman then commented, “If people would know the flaws and deficiencies of an object, they would know its essence, even if they had never actually seen the object.”

One of the first things a person learns when he discovers Rebbe Nachman is the Rebbe’s penchant for accentuating the positive. In particular, the lesson Azamra (Likutey Moharan I, 282) teaches us to find the good points—at least one— in ourselves and in others. So this ma’aseh (untitled in the original, but often called “The Chandelier” or “The Menorah”) seems out of character. There are many details in this ma’aseh, but let’s focus on what the son was trying to accomplish.*

What was the son trying to do? Was he trying to show off? Make his father proud? Put the local (read: provincial) artisans to shame? All of the above? He tells his father he wants the menorahmakers to realize that they have shortcomings. Yet he never tells them. He tells us. So it is we, the readers, that Rebbe Nachman is inviting to view the menorah. This is the first good point the Rebbe is finding within us, namely that we—like he—are menorah-makers, meant to shine a unique light into the world.

The invitation to view the son’s craftsmanship is reminiscent of the competitions in Rebbe Nachman’s story “The Seven Beggars.” Just as in that story, in which the crippled, seemingly powerless beggars are really the most skilled and accomplished, here the maker of the universally ugly menorah is able to make the perfect menorah. By its maker’s own admission, the menorah is intentionally made solely of flaws and deficiencies. That is, it was no mistake to make it from mistakes (a type of perfection in a funny kind of way). Yet, ugly as he thought the menorah was, each craftsman also found something to like about it.

So if they thought that parts of the menorah were beautiful, why did the craftsmen say it was ugly? We do it all the time. It’s called “human nature.” Our own imperfect menorahs are pretty good, despite the deficiencies. However, a flaw in someone else’s menorah makes the whole thing ugly—even though it’s the same flaw as ours! But, says the tzaddik, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. We have to learn to see our own ugly, not someone else’s. The fact that the Rebbe pointed out to us this fault means we can rid ourselves of it. That’s another positive in our favor

Finally, remember that even if the menorah you make is totally and absolutely ugly, the light it gives is nonetheless radiant.

* This is only one possible interpretation of this parable.

(Based on Sipurei Ma’asiot (Rabbi Nachman’s Stories), “Additional Stories”)

If we pay attention and do it right, wearing clothing is a big tikkun (correction) for the sin of eating from the Tree of Knowledge…

“She grabbed [Yosef] by his garment… and he fled outside” (Genesis 39:12).

“The sea saw and fled” (Psalms 114:3).

Because Yosef fled, the sea fled (Bereishit Rabbah 87:8).

If we pay attention and do it right, wearing clothing is a big tikkun (correction) for the sin of eating from the Tree of Knowledge, when we lost the ability to see the reality of things and began to mistake the surface for the depth, the wrapper for the content. Adam’s heels shone like the sun (Tanchuma, Acharei #2), so certainly the higher body parts shone with more glory, the face most of all (Pesikta d’Rav Kahana 12:1). Clothing filters the bright spiritual “lights” of the various body parts, especially those that can create and nourish human life. Dressing right means that anyone who sees you can tell from your wardrobe that you’re Jewish. It means that you don’t wear torn or dirty clothing and that you take proper care of your clothes

Rebbe Nachman teaches that the yetzer hara (evil inclination) grabs a person by his clothing. We need to wear clothing, but the yetzer hara creates in our mind unnecessary “needs” for clothing. These “needs” become distractions, disturbing and hindering a person’s service of God. Such “needs” arise if one lets the outside become more important than the inside

Yosef HaTzaddik faced a natural temptation and had an opportunity to show his power and importance. But that was the outside, the “clothing” that was external to him, not his truly defined self. When the Israelites reached the bank of the Red Sea, the sea saw Yosef HaTzaddik’s coffin and understood that the outside— showing its power and running its natural course, what God usually intended it to do—was not as important as the inside— i.e., the ultimate purpose, doing what God wanted it to do now.

For Yosef HaTzaddik, as tzaddik (one who protects his [and the world’s] connection to God by being scrupulous in his moral behavior], clothing plays an especially important role. In this week’s reading, Yaakov gives Yosef the many-colored robe, his brothers strip him of that (and all his clothing), and his boss’ wife also grabs him by “his garment.” Mrs. Potiphar’s craving was not 100% material lust. From her astrology, she knew that he and she would have a common descendant (Bereishit Rabbah 85:2). (This does not absolve of her crimes.) For a year’s time, this wicked woman tried hard to seduce the tzaddik by changing her outfit every morning and evening (Yoma 35b).

Indeed, Yosef was on the verge of caving in, of doing “the job” (Bereishit Rabbah 87:7). But he ran outside, he changed his place (Aleph-Bet Book, Hirhurim B:23). The consequences weren’t pretty. He suffered the humiliation of being discovered in public in his birthday suit (Me’am Loez, p. 313), he was libeled and publicly maligned for ten years, and he was jailed, without parole. (And there in jail, Mrs. Potiphar continued her evil efforts [Bereishit Rabbah 87:10]!) Yet by shaking himself free, Yosef is bedecked in all manner of royal raiment, by Pharaoh himself (Genesis 41:42). Although Yosef understood the tikkun of clothing, he saw that it could be usurped and misused, that if grabbed by the yetzer hara, it has to be discarded.

The lesson for us? Our use of an “external” tikkun is vulnerable to attack. We have to be wise enough and flexible enough to know when to abandon it even if it means a drastic and unforeseen change in circumstances for the worse. In the merit of the genuine tzaddikim, may God grant us the wisdom and strength to make every tough decision we will ever need to make. Amen!

(Based on Sichot HaRan (Rabbi Nachman’s Wisdom) #100)

There are holy and pure tzaddikim who despite the fact that their intentions are solely l’shem shemayim (for the sake of Heaven), disagree with other tzaddikim who are also holy and pure and whose intentions are also l’shem shemayim. What is the reason for this? And does it concern us in any way? This week’s parsha will address this topic.

This week’s Torah portion is parshat Vayeishev. The Torah recounts Yosef’s dreams and his brother’s hatred for him. Joseph tells his brothers about his dreams: “Behold! We were binding sheaves in the field. My sheaf rose up and stood upright. And your sheaves gathered around and bowed to my sheaf” (Genesis 37:7). The reaction of Joseph’s brothers was: “His brothers said to him, ‘Will you reign over us? Will you actually rule over us?’” (Ibid, 8). Afterwards, Joseph then told them about a second dream, which only increased his brothers’ hatred for him. Anyone who reflects on this story has to wonder what this means. Why did Joseph tell them about his dreams, especially when he knew that they anyway hated him? And what is the meaning and significance of his dreams?

To understand this, first we must understand a little bit about the concept and essence of the role of tzaddikim. There are many holy, sublime, and pure tzaddikim, who are constantly engaged in fulfilling the Will of the Creator, each in his own way, and yet there are many and significant differences between them. Sometimes they live in peace with the other tzaddikim, and sometimes disputes arise between them. What is the reason for this?

Rabbi Natan explains that there are many reasons for the controversy between the tzaddikim, and they are related to the role which each tzaddik takes upon himself. Every tzaddik first of all strives to fulfill the purpose for which he was born. But there are tzaddikim who, in addition to fulfilling the duties they took upon themselves, become guarantors for HaKadosh Baruch Hu, to return the Nation of Israel to Him. As the Midrash teaches, during the Creation of the World, G-d consulted with the souls of the tzaddikim about whether or not to create the world (Bereishis Rabbah 7:8). These tzaddikim accepted upon themselves to be guarantors for the entire Jewish people that they would keep the Torah.

The problematic point regarding the disputes between the tzaddikim is as follows: Even among the tzaddikim themselves, there are those who do not achieve the unique high level of the “True Tzaddik,” whose whole essence is that he is a soul whose only desire is to do only the Will of the Creator. This True Tzaddik takes it upon himself to be a guarantor to the Creator to bring all of Israel back to G-d, and the other tzaddikim envy him. Sometimes it seems to them that the intention of this True Tzaddik is not l’shem shamayim (for the sake of Heaven) and the motive for his actions is the desire for honor, in the aspect of: “His brothers said to him, ‘Will you reign over us? Will you actually rule over us?’” And sometimes they are incapable of understanding his hidden ways.

But there is another and essential point that results in the great difference between the tzaddikim, and it is related to Joseph’s dreams and his brothers arguing against him. There are lofty tzaddikim who have attained very high levels. They have the power to reveal very high spiritual perceptions to those who are anyway on a high level, people who are actually able to overcome their evil inclination. But due to the greatness of their holiness, they are unable to tolerate the lowly souls who struggle with trials, who elevate themselves but then fall and then rally themselves to raise themselves up again, only to fall again as they struggle with their evil inclination. They do not have a remedy or the power to illuminate spiritual perceptions to these lowly souls.

In contrast, there are lofty tzaddikim who have undertaken to return the entire Nation of Israel, without exception, to their heavenly Father. Everything that they do is in order to illuminate the Divine Light to even those lowly souls for whom it is very difficult to reach Divine Enlightenment. They are willing to give up their very lives at any moment for every single Jew, just as Moses did when G-d wanted to annihilate the people of Israel after the Sin of the Golden Calf. Moses said: “If You please, forgive their sin, and if not, then erase my name from Your book which You have written” (Exodus 32:32). Moses said to HaKadosh Baruch Hu: If you wipe out the Nation of Israel, then wipe me out also. Rabbi Nachman spoke out after his son died about the fact that all his troubles stemmed from the fact that he had given over his life to reveal the secrets of the Torah in order to bring the people of Israel closer to G-d. He mentioned what happened to the holy Arizal (Rabbi Isaac Luria) when he revealed a secret of the Torah, and then his little son died. Rebbe Nachman pointed out: “Behold the Arizal only revealed one secret and he was punished, all the more so, that I revealed to you so many secrets like these.” For indeed the tzaddikim give over their lives completely to bringing the people of Israel closer to the Creator.

Sometimes it seems to them that the intention of this True Tzaddik is not l’shem shamayim and the motive for his actions is the desire for honor, in the aspect of: “His brothers said to him, ‘Will you reign over us? Will you actually rule over us?’” And sometimes they are incapable of understanding his hidden ways.

The leadership of these tzaddikim awakens controversy from other tzaddikim who claim that the Divine Light should be constricted so that only those who are fitting will merit to perceive Him and come close to Him. They do not agree with the approach of the tzaddikim who work hard and break themselves all their lives so that anyone who simply wants to experience Divine Enlightenment will merit to this, even if he is unworthy. But it is precisely this point that unites the tzaddikim who work endlessly all their lives to contract the Divine Light and to enclothe it in “simple clothing,” so that even the lower-level souls can attain the Divine Light and draw closer to the Creator. Such a tzaddik endeavors to draw everyone closer. He has the power to illuminate every Jew with the understanding that HaKadosh Baruch Hu desires also his devotion, even if he has sinned terribly. King Solomon alluded to such a tzaddik when he said: “Many women have acquired wealth, but you surpass them all” (Proverbs 31:29).

Now we can understand Joseph’s dreams. The parsha opens with the verse: “Jacob dwelt in the area where his father had stayed…These are the generations of Jacob: Joseph, a young man of seventeen, was tending the flocks with his brothers” (Genesis 37;1-2). The Midrash explains the word “megurei” (dwelling) as being from the word “giuri” (conversion). That is, Jacob was engaged in drawing closer and converting those far from the Shechina, the Divine Presence (Bereishis Rabbah 84:4). Joseph continued Jacob’s mission to draw souls closer to G-d. “And he was a lad with the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah.” The “sons of Bilhah” allude to what is said in the verse “Balahot etneich” (I shall make of you an object of horror) (Ezekiel 26:21). The “sons of Zilpah” allude to what is said in the verse, “Zalapha achaztani marshaiim” (Quaking gripped me because of the wicked men) (Psalms 119:53), referring to those souls that have a hard time dealing with their evil inclination, and this arouses in them balahot (nightmares) and zalaphot (fears) and tempts them. Only the Tzaddik who is the aspect of Joseph is able to find the good in them, connect to them, and bring them closer to G-d, because only Joseph received all his wisdom from his father and knows how to draw these souls closer.

“Behold! We were binding sheaves in the field. My sheaf rose up and stood upright. And your sheaves gathered around and bowed to my sheaf” – Yosef’s dreams

This conduct of Joseph which resulted in bringing everyone closer is what aroused his brother’s hatred. They were not convinced that Joseph was the True Tzaddik who had the power to enlighten every Jew, even the most fallen souls. Even though they were all tzaddikim, there are differences between spiritual levels of the tzaddikim. Also, tzaddikim must nullify themselves to the tzaddikim who are on a higher level than they are, those whose whole desire is to immerse themselves in learning and to bring souls closer to G-d, may He be blessed. That is why the tzaddik was called “Joseph,” as in the verse: “May God add (“yosef”) to me another son” (Genesis 30:24), because his entire life, he yearned only to add more souls to bring them closer to G-d, as the sages taught: “Everyone who teaches his friend’s son Torah, it is as if he is his own child” (Sanhedrin 19b). They strove to teach the children of Israel Torah, and therefore they are considered to them like their sons.

Moreover, the tzaddik himself hints to everyone that all the treasures are by him and that he has the ability to give everyone the opportunity to draw close to G-d. Thus, Joseph related to them his dream in order to reveal this ability to them: “Behold! We were binding sheaves in the field. My sheaf rose up and stood upright. And your sheaves gathered around and bowed to my sheaf” (Genesis 37:7). Joseph informed them that though they were indeed serving G-d faithfully, despite this, their counsel did not have the power to bring everyone closer to G-d. Only Joseph the Tzaddik’s sheaf “rose up and stood upright” and had the power to bring everyone closer to G-d. Unfortunately, the aspect of strict judgement is embodied in these other tzaddikim, which causes them to persecute the tzaddik who has the power to bring the whole world back to its proper order. The other tzaddikim suspect that everything he does stems from his own pride and a lust for honor. “His brothers said to him, ‘Are you going to be the one to reign over us? Will you actually rule over us?’”

And what do these things have to do with us? It is clear that they have not been said in order to differentiate between the different levels of the tzaddikim, since the sons of Jacob were all tzaddikim, as the verse testifies about them: “that the tribes bear the name of the Lord is a testimony regarding Israel” (Psalms 122:4, see Rashi on Numbers 26:5). These things were said in relation to our duty to seek and draw close to the True Tzaddik, the greatest one of all, so that through him we can draw closer to the Creator, as Rabbi Nachman taught a very important basis in serving G-d: “Every person needs to draw close to the greatest Tzaddik who can illuminate him with Divine enlightenment and bring him closer to the Creator, like Moshe Rabbeinu who was willing to give his life for every Jew.” Rabbi Nachman taught: “The more ill the patient is, the greater physician he requires to heal him. Therefore, a person should not say: It is enough for me that I am connected to an honorable and God-fearing man, even though he is not so exalted, because I would be happy if I could achieve even his level. One should not think this way; on the contrary, as much as a person realizes what a low level he is on and how far away he is…he can figure out for himself just how much he needs to search for the very greatest doctor…and he should constantly beg G-d that he should merit to draw close to the very greatest Rebbe” (Likutei Moharan I 30:2).

Perhaps we are the ones who are on the level of the “sons of Bilhah and sons of Zilpah,” the weak souls who are fighting against great spiritual difficulties. But we too still have hope if we succeed in drawing closer to those tzaddikim who have the power to illuminate us and bring us closer to the Creator. All of the tzaddikim are holy, and to that end, we need to pray very much that we will merit this, to draw close to the true tzaddikim and achieve the spiritual attainments for which we were created.

(This article was based on Likutei Halachot, Hashkamat HaBoker 4, Mekach v’Memchar  3, and Shomer Sachar 2.)

There is never a situation of a battle being completely lost; there is always something that can be done to help!

Parashat Vayishlach finds Jacob leaving the house of his father-in-law, Laban, after living with him for 20 years. He had worked for 14 years in order to marry Laban’s daughters Leah and Rachel, and another six years to raise the sheep. Jacob’s brother Esau was still out for revenge. While Jacob hoped to make peace with him, Esau went ahead and hired an army of 400 strong men in order to wipe out Jacob and his family.

We are told that Jacob readied himself for the upcoming attack in three different ways: with gifts, with prayer, and by preparing for battle. Jacob prepared a huge and plentiful gift package for Esau in order to appease him. The gift contained sheep, cattle and camels, all rich commodities of that time. He hoped to use Esau’s desire for materialism to remove his anger from Jacob.

The second method was prayer. Jacob prayed to God with deep sincerity and intensity in order to be saved from his brother.

The third preparation was for the eventuality of war. Jacob was in a very dangerous situation. Esau had been baying for his blood for years, and the time for confrontation was at hand. Jacob knew that if his prayer was not answered and the gift was rejected, the consequences of this war could be very bitter. In his prayer, he mentioned that Esau was coming to kill “him, the mothers and the children.” Jacob could not be sure that a miracle would be performed for him. He therefore decided to split his camp into two parts. This strategy, while extremely painful to implement, would at least provide a chance for half the camp to survive if the other half was killed. How does one decide which of his children to try to save? How does one make such harsh decisions in such trying circumstances?

Precisely from Jacob’s actions, we learn a vital lesson for life: Even when the battle seems lost, don’t give up all hope. There is never a situation of a battle being completely lost; there is always something that can be done to help. Jacob taught us to never throw up our hands in defeat or to succumb to despair. Even when things look bleak, do what you can to make the best out of a difficult situation.

How does one decide which of his children to try to save? How does one make such harsh decisions in such trying circumstances?

Reb Noson links this idea to a subject called “division of advice.” This refers to a situation in which a person has to make a decision but does not know which way to turn. He grapples with all sorts of uncertainty and confusion and lacks any clarity. These are situations that all of us face quite often. We feel the same way that Jacob felt when Esau was closing in on him, trapped with no light at the end of the tunnel. We have no idea how to get out of this situation. This tends to lead to feelings of hopelessness and despair.

But we should know that, in fact, the battle is not lost. Jacob shows us that when we are stuck, with no way out, there is still always something that can be done to save the situation. He split the camp, so that at least “the remaining camp will survive.” It was not a pleasant decision to make, but it was the best he could do under the circumstances. Save whatever you can.

“Division of Advice” is to save whatever you can!

We often find ourselves in situations of doubt – for example, “Should I go on this business trip or should I stay at home?” There’s no one to tell us exactly what to do. But know that whatever decision we do make, there is always good to be found, always an opportunity to make the best of the circumstances.

This idea manifests itself in many areas of life, both spiritually and physically. Starting a new learning program, deciding to get up on time each day, or even taking on a new diet. We start off by flying out of the blocks, only to find that soon we have slipped and have not met our goal. What happens then? Well, since I anyway did not achieve what I wanted to, I may as well give up on the whole plan. I broke my diet, so know I will eat waffles and ice cream every day. I missed the train to work, so I may as well stay in bed all day.

Please, no! This is exactly what Jacob taught us not to do. He was in a far more precarious position than breaking a resolution. Nevertheless, he did not say, “It’s all or nothing.” He understood the importance of grabbing whatever good one can. Without a doubt, we must always pray to God to help us. But we also need to know that when we are in the midst of a personal dilemma, we should do what we can to make the best of the situation.

(Based on Likutey Halakhot, Rosh Chodesh 7)

Don’t allow yourself to fall into the darkness. Understand that this is a critical part of the upward spiritual journey…

 Parashat Vayeitzei is one of the longest weekly portions in the Torah, with several amazing storylines. The parashah opens with the description of Jacob leaving Be’er Sheva, fleeing from Esau’s attempt to kill him. Jacob was also following the instructions of his parents to go and find a wife from his extended family and not from the local daughters of Canaan.

On the way, Jacob “encounters the place,” which we are told is Mount Moriah, site of the future Temple. Suddenly the sun sets and the darkness causes Jacob to fall asleep. The Torah tells us, “He dreamed, and behold! A ladder was standing on earth with its top reaching the heavens. Angels of God were ascending and descending on it.” After God speaks to Jacob in the dream, Jacob wakes up and says, “How awesome is this place!”

What can we learn from this fascinating dream?

When Reb Noson of Breslov was still young, even before he met Rebbe Nachman, he was known to be an outstanding genius and Torah scholar, well-versed in all aspects of the Torah. Nevertheless, he felt a constant lack in his Divine service. Even after drawing close to several of the Chassidic masters of the time, he still felt unfulfilled and yearned for an even greater connection to God. At one point, he was even close to the great tzaddik, Reb Levi Yitzchak of Berditchov.

One Motza’ey Shabbat, a group of chassidim sat together for Melaveh Malkah. Reb Noson was among them. Being one of the youngest of the group, they turned to him and asked him to go out and buy some bagels for the meal. Reb Noson went out with a broken heart. Here he was, an accomplished scholar, with a connection to one of the greatest tzaddikim of the generation, and all he was good for was buying bagels? He just wanted to serve God.

Instead of heading to the bakery, he slipped into the local synagogue and began reciting psalms. He reached chapter 50, but could no longer continue. Reb Noson slipped down to the floor and burst into tears. He cried out to God, “Master of the world! Is this what I was created for? To buy bagels?”

Reb Noson slipped down to the floor and burst into tears. He cried out to God, “Master of the world! Is this what I was created for? To buy bagels?”

At that point he fell asleep and dreamed. In his dream he saw himself climbing a ladder, when suddenly he stumbled and fell off the ladder and hurt himself. He tried to get up and climb again. This time he managed to climb higher, but again he fell down; the blow he received was harder and even more painful. Over and over again he tried to climb up and then fell down, each blow hurting more than the last, until he no longer had the strength to climb back on.

Suddenly, in the dream, he saw a man with a beard, his face radiant like an angel. The man said to Reb Noson, “Keep climbing, but hold yourself well!” After hearing these words of encouragement, Reb Noson began to climb again and this time he managed to reach all the way to the top of the ladder. Reb Noson awoke from the dream, but the vision was engraved deeply on his heart. He went back to his friends who were still sitting at the Melaveh Malkah. They asked him what had taken so long, and he made some passing excuse. Not long afterwards, Reb Noson heard about Rebbe Nachman and decided to travel to Breslov to see him. As soon as he saw Rebbe Nachman, he recognized him as the man in the dream who had told him, “Keep climbing, but hold yourself well!” Reb Noson went on to become the leading student of Rebbe Nachman.

Returning to our parashah and Jacob’s dream, Reb Noson explains that this vision teaches us about our spiritual journey in life. Each person at some time experiences a spiritual awakening when he feels the light of God open to him. He jumps aboard this wave and then expects this feeling to continue forever. Suddenly he is thrown down and feels as if he never was close to God at all. Just like Reb Noson in the dream, each time he lands with a greater thud and experiences more pain, until he can no longer continue. How does one strengthen himself in such a situation?

How does one strengthen himself in such a situation?…

Using the verses from our parashah, Reb Noson conveys to us the very first lesson he heard from Rebbe Nachman: how to climb the ladder.

“He encountered the place”—the site of the future Temple. This means he reached a level where he attained the light of God. Expecting to remain at this level, he is then suddenly faced with reality…

“He slept there because the sun had set.” The sun represents the light of God. The sun had now set and he no longer experienced this light. He finds himself in a sleep, in a place of darkness, far from the light of God. How does one move on from this?

Jacob then saw “a ladder that was standing on earth with its top reaching the heavens.” This is a person’s task in this world: to climb the ladder rung by rung. It is impossible to jump all the way to the top in one go.

“Angels of God were ascending and descending on it.” The tzaddikim are compared to angels. Even they need to go up and down the ladder; there is no such thing as only climbing. Falling down is part of the process. As we know, “The purpose of falling is to enable the ascent.” When a person does experience the darkness after the light, he should know that the light he experienced is still with him. It is not lost—it is just hidden from him right now. Sometimes a person “encounters the place” directly and feels the light of God. Other times this light seems far from him, as the verse describes that Abraham saw the same place “from afar.”

At times like this, you need to “hold yourself well.” Don’t allow yourself to fall into the darkness. Understand that this is a critical part of the upward spiritual journey.

On the other hand, even when you feel the light of God on you, realize that in reality you are still far from God and have infinitely more levels to climb. Understanding this, you can strengthen himself during the times of descent, knowing that God is always with you.

As Reb Noson writes in Likutey Halakhot:

The truth is that the light of God never leaves a person and shines on a person constantly. It is only within our limited minds that it appears as if he only “sees the place from afar.” However, in the end God will complete that which we have begun. He will draw only goodness to all of Israel, and to each person individually. Our job is to wait and yearn for this salvation.

Keep climbing, but hold yourself well!

Do you often wonder when you will finally be able to catch your breath? Do you ever say to yourself, “I thought I was finally done with these issues”? Well, life isn’t so easy after all. But this is also nothing new; in fact, Abraham had some very difficult life issues of his own.

Famine: There is a famine in Canaan. Abraham is forced to leave his land and go down to Egypt where his beautiful wife, Sarah, is abducted by Pharaoh himself. In the end, they return to Canaan, unharmed and enriched from Pharaoh’s coffers.

Infertility: Abraham is forced to wait many, many years until his righteous wife Sarah, at age 90, miraculously gives birth. Abraham is promised that that his spiritual legacy will be brought to fruition through this newborn – Isaac.

Child sacrifice: Abraham is asked to sacrifice his long awaited, precious son, Isaac. At the last moment, a ram takes the place of Isaac. Abraham immediately begins to think about Isaac’s future and finding a soul mate for him. He receives news that Rebecca has just been born, but Isaac is 37 years old!

Wife’s death: Abraham returns home from the challenge of his life. He and Isaac are both “in one piece,” but Sarah has just passed away. While in mourning, Abraham is forced to negotiate for the special burial place of the Cave of Machpeilah from a very evil person named Ephron HaChiti. After paying a tremendously exaggerated asking price, he successfully buries his wife.

Shidduchim: Now Abraham must arrange this fitting match for his prized son. He sends his trusted servant Eliezer on mission impossible across the civilized world to get Rebecca away from the hands of her evil and conniving brother, Laban.

Do you see a pattern here? Every time Abraham felt his salvation had come, he was again tested with a different, unique challenge. He was never given “time off” and never arrived at some kind of spiritual finish line.

Webster’s Dictionary defines life as “the ability to grow, change, etc., that separates plants and animals from things like water or rocks.” The Talmud states that sleep is one-sixtieth of death (Berakhot 57b). Sleep means a lack of spiritual consciousness or awareness – this lack is akin to death. In order to LIVE life, we mustn’t be sleeping like a rock; rather, every challenge gives us the opportunity to grow and experience true change.

The pattern of Abraham’s life is our pattern as well. Whether in our personal growth or in more mundane matters, we each confront difficult moments and issues. When we begin to see our salvation, we thank God that we are free or that we have been successful. Although certainly we have experienced God’s kindness and should express our gratitude, we should also know that we aren’t done just yet. Yes, we have grown, we have experienced true closeness and deliverance from our Creator – but we are still very distant from the ultimate salvation.

God’s greatness is unfathomable (Psalms 145:3). Every single day is unique and special; every day is blessed with kindness and deliverance. At every moment, in His great wisdom, God seeks to bring us closer to our ultimate potential. His desire is for us to be spiritually compatible with Him. As we experience the difficulties of life, we can keep our cool by having realistic expectations. While we must reinforce our strength and our vision of success by appreciating our triumphs, at the same time, we need to take a step back and realize that we are in this for the long run. There are no easy answers, but there is an awesome Master plan.

Based on Likutey Halakhot, Hilkhot Shiluach HaKen 5

What is so special about the test of the Akeida, that to this day we recall this event for our merit?

There are several amazing topics in this week’s parsha. One of the main topics is the Binding of Isaac or Akeidat Yitzhak, an event which occupies a very important place in Jewish history. Every day in the morning prayers and especially on Rosh HaShana, the Day of Judgment, we recite the Akeida, and in its merit we ask for forgiveness and to be saved from Divine punishment (Rashi on Genesis 22:14).

The story of the Akeida is presented in our parsha: “And it came to pass after these things, that G-d tested Avraham, and He said to him, ‘Avraham,’ and he said, ‘Here I am.’ ‘Take your son, your only one, the one you love—Isaac—and go to the land of Moriah”(Genesis 22 1-2). Avraham Avinu (“our forefather”) was faced with a difficult test: to sacrifice his only son as an offering to G-d. Avraham did not ask questions; he got up in the morning and unquestioningly went to fulfill the will of G-d.

Although Avraham Avinu’s test was very difficult, many commentators ask a poignant question. Over the generations even regular people have been subjected to similar trials and stood up in them heroically, as has happened during the Crusades and other events. They chose to suffer the death of their children rather than a life of denial of G-d and His Torah. Moreover, Rabbi Natan notes: “And it seems to us that even ordinary people would pass the test if G-d were to explicitly tell them to slaughter their children.” All the more so, people have passed such tests when they were not explicitly commanded by G-d. So, we would naturally expect that Avraham Avinu, who did hear the command explicitly from G-d, would surely pass the test.

To understand this matter better, we need to define the concept of “standing up in the test.” It means putting a person in a position where he could go either way. It is possible that he might pass the test, or he might, G-d forbid, fail it. It is well known that our holy Rebbe, Rabbi Nachman of Breslov, warned us very strongly that a person should not put himself in a position where he might be tested. Regarding the prayer (in the morning blessings), “And do not cause us to be tested or brought to disgrace,” Rabbi Nachman explained: “Either a test or a disgrace,” means that if they do not stand up in the test, G-d forbid, they will be disgraced. Despite this, when Rebbe Nachman was young, he used to ask G-d to test him (Shivchei HaRan 16. This was a particular behavior which he alone practiced since he was on a very sublime spiritual level, and he had his own hidden reasons for doing this. This is certainly not an example for how we should behave as a general rule.) And he testified that when he did find himself facing these tests, he had tremendous difficulty standing up in them, but despite the difficulties, he was always successful. In any case, we can understand from this that a test is only considered to be a proper test when it is so difficult that it is almost impossible to pass it. However, our ancestor Avraham had been explicitly commanded. Considering his spiritual level plus all the devotion to G-d that he had exhibited all the days of his life in sacrificing himself for the sake of the Creator, surely, he should have had no problem passing this test. If so, what is so special about the test of the Akeida, that to this day we recall this event for our merit?

Every day in the morning prayers and especially on Rosh HaShana, the Day of Judgment, we recite the Akeida, and in its merit we ask for forgiveness and to be saved from Divine punishment!

Rabbi Natan explains that the reason the test was so difficult was because it was actually his faith that was being tested, and that is why the test was so much harder. Avraham Avinu had been childless for many long and difficult years and merited to have a son only after multiple promises from the Creator, as the verse says, “And G-d said, ‘Indeed, your wife Sarah will bear you a son, and you shall name him Isaac, and I will establish My covenant with him as an everlasting covenant for his seed after him’” (Genesis 17:19). HaKadosh Baruch Hu kept His promise and Isaac was born after a hundred years of yearning.

Isaac is, therefore, the son that HaKadosh Baruch Hu promised would carry on the succession of Avraham’s faith and whose seed would multiply like the stars in heaven (Genesis 15:5). At this time Isaac, his only son, was 37 years old and had not yet married. If Avraham were to offer up Isaac as a sacrifice and to slaughter him as G-d had commanded him, how would the promise that Isaac’s offspring would multiply occur? How could it be possible for both things to happen? If HaKadosh Baruch Hu promised him that from Isaac his offspring would multiply like the number of stars in the sky, how could it be possible for him to literally follow G-d’s command and to offer Isaac up as a sacrifice?

Thus, the real test had to do with having simple faith. Let’s try for a moment to imagine if we were to be facing such a trial—that we didn’t have any answers to the questions that were hounding us. Our hearts would try to find “creative solutions,” to distort the situation, giving us an inaccurate way of understanding the command in a way that would be convenient for us—because we were, after all, “seeking the truth.” Since G-d had promised that our progeny would be through Isaac, we would conclude that G-d certainly did not actually mean that we should really offer him up as a sacrifice (G-d forbid). So, we would be faced with finding a creative solution to the conundrum—something “outside the box.” Just the thought of simply and honestly fulfilling G-d’s literal command without asking questions would not have occurred to us.

If our ancestor Abraham binds Isaac his son, how will the promise of the Creator be fulfilled?

And this was the high spiritual level of Avraham Avinu who stood up in the test. These questions bothered him—and how. But he put them all aside and went to fulfill the unambiguous command of the Creator without understanding how the promise to multiply Isaac’s seed would be fulfilled when G-d’s command to sacrifice him completely contradicted this promise. That wasn’t his business. He just had to do his part and fulfill G-d’s will.

We can understand this from the dialogue between Avraham and the angel of G-d. The angel said to Avraham: “Do not harm the boy or do anything to him,” etc. Avraham said to the angel: “I will explain my complaint before You. Yesterday, You said to me (Genesis 21:12): ‘for in Isaac will be called your seed,’ after that you said (Genesis 22:2): ‘Bring him up as burnt offering.’ Now You say to me, ‘Do not stretch forth your hand to the lad.’” From here we can understand that Avraham’s main test and self-sacrifice was the desire to know what he must do to fulfill the will of the Creator. This is why G-d answered Abraham: “I did not say to you, ‘slaughter him,’ but rather, ‘bring him up.’ You have brought him up and that’s enough. Now take him down” (Rashi on Genesis 22:12).

By the way, we will add an interesting anecdote here. The answer that G-d gave to Avraham—”I did not say to you, ‘Slaughter him,’ but rather ‘Bring him up as a burnt sacrifice.’ You have brought him up, now take him down”—seems strange. It is true that these things were said with the intention to test Avraham, but there must be some meaning to what was actually said: “Raise up Isaac and bring him down.” Elsewhere, Rabbi Natan explains the meaning of this: Isaac was from the aspect of holy “gevurah” (strictness or judgment). All the toughest and harshest judgments were included in Isaac, which would not allow for any manifestation of procreation and chessed (kindness). In order to sweeten the judgments and the gevurot, he had to nullify himself completely. Isaac’s self-sacrifice during the Akeida, when he was willing to give up his life and totally surrendered himself to the will of G-d, led to the creation within him of the chessed (the aspect of kindness) and a sweetening of judgments.

This provides us with a clear explanation of G-d’s words: “I did not tell you to slaughter him,” because indeed G-d’s intention was to raise Isaac up as a sacrifice only in order to sweeten the gevurot. Then G-d said, “You have brought him up, now take him down,” because he had already nullified himself with self-sacrifice during the Akeida. Now that the side of chessed (kindness) and salvation had been created within him, he could merit to having children. Thus, we see that G-d’s command to raise him up as an offering is actually what caused the fulfillment of G-d’s promise that the seed of Isaac would multiply. Not only is there no contradiction, but quite the opposite is true: it was precisely the Akeida that enabled Isaac to connect to the aspects of chessed and procreation.

(Based on Likutei Halachot, Matana 5:47, together with Hilchot Aravit 4:14)

Our parashah begins by God commanding Abraham, “Go to you” (Genesis 12:1). This seems very strange. You can be told to go to a different place or to a different person, but what does it mean to go to oneself? Yet what if one’s own reality were skewed; if someone was totally removed from their true essence, would it not be necessary for them to find themselves?

Abraham’s journey to the Promised Land is the precursor to our own individual journeys to holiness and spiritual growth. Not only was Abraham not born on giant’s shoulders, he grew up in a toxic environment of idol worship and falsity. In order for him to reach his destination, he had to embark on a path of self-discovery by ridding himself of all the external evils and influences that surrounded him.

The parashah therefore states, “Go from your land and from your birthplace and from your father’s house” (ibid.). Go from your land – and the many blinding false attitudes and beliefs prevalent in society. Go from your birthplace – and the spiritual deficiencies and bad nature you were created with as a result of your origins. Go from your father’s house – and your family’s pride and mistaken beliefs that nurtured you. Only by leaving everything behind and fully connecting with his true essence – his own holy neshamah (soul) – could Abraham reach the Promised Land.

As we embark on our own spiritual journeys and attempt to connect to God, we are also surrounded by many layers of darkness and confusion. We desperately seek change and want to experience more from life, but this often seems like an impossible task. This is expressed in the interplay between Abraham and Lot. As Abraham obeyed and left behind the many falsehoods that were holding him back, the Torah says, “And Lot went with him” (ibid. 12:4). The name LoT hints to LiTusa (cursed) (Zohar, Lekh Lekha, 78). Just as the conniving Serpent lied to Eve and was cursed, so too, Lot’s goal was to surround and confuse Abraham and prevent him from reaching his true destination.

How did Abraham react? “Let there not be a conflict between us or between our shepherds … Depart from me. If you go left, I will go right. If you go right, I will go left” (ibid. 13:8-9). In other words, “You choose which part you would like, and I will take the other option.”

But the Midrash explains it this way: “Rabbi Chanina Bar Yitzchok explained that Abraham didn’t say ‘v’esmola’ (I will go left), but rather ‘v’asmila’ (I will ‘left him’) – in all events, I will make that man [Lot] go to the left” (Bereishit Rabbah 13). Whereas the left represents falsehood, the right represents truth. According to the Midrash, Abraham wanted to make sure that he was always on the right side – the side of truth.

We each have our own version of “Lot” following us around. Society’s opinions and baggage from our past seek to hold us back.  Nevertheless, we have the ability to stand firm by remaining focused on the truth with utter simplicity. If we always remind ourselves of God’s constant reality in our lives, “Lot” cannot dislodge us from our true place. At the same time, sometimes he appears to be on our right. He disguises himself and makes it seem as if it is a mitzvah to listen to him. For example, he may convince us to copy a righteous individual, but this person may have an entirely different mission! The Midrash teaches that in this case, too, Lot is a distraction. Although he appears to be on our right, he is really on our left.

We must always seek our true essence so that we may connect to God’s truth, no matter where we may seem to stand.

(Based on Likutey Halakhot, Hilkhot Geneivah 5)

Let me ask you a question? If you had a big fight—I mean a fight so big that the town wasn’t big enough for the both of you—with your nephew, or your brother-in-law, would you care what happened to him? Probably not. But Avraham Avinu (our patriarch) was so humble, that even after their split up (Genesis 13:7–9) he considered Lot his brother (ibid.14:14, Midrash Tanchuma, Lech Lecha 13). (Lot was both Avraham Avinu’s brother-in-law and nephew. See Genesis 11:27 and 29.) So when Lot was taken captive, Avraham cared a lot.

It’s one thing to care, but to go to war for him (ibid. 14:14)? Why did Avraham Avinu think the risks were worthwhile? In telling us about the importance of waking in the middle of the night to lament the destruction of the Beit HaMikdash (Holy Temple), Reb Noson writes that the impetus and ability to do so stems from the trait of kindness that Avraham Avinu so personified.

Avraham Avinu’s kindness was not limited to feeding the body of those who found their way to his tent. He sought to feed their souls and to unleash the good within them (Midrash Tanchuma, Lekh Lekha 12). In the case of Lot, this extended to unleashing the good that wouldn’t come for over 900 years.

Although Lot made a spiritually fatal mistake by choosing Sodom over Avraham (Genesis 13:10–11), he still had a nekudah tovah, an irrevocable good point. This nekudah tovah, though deeply buried, would eventually be born as Ruth, the great-grandmother of King David (and ultimately, Mashiach).

So, though our own personal biases may seem reason enough to justify staying home and letting others suffer the results of their stupidity or desires, we need to be kinder in our outlook and not dismiss their goodness. And though mighty kings and armies may try to capture and destroy the nekudah tovah within us or others, we have to trust enough in God to battle to save that good. A right place to start, per Rebbe Nachman’s suggestion, would be with conquering ourselves by waking before dawn to plead with God to save us soon from this miserable exile. Amen!

agutn Shabbos!
Shabbat Shalom!

(Based on Likutey Halakhot, Hashkamat HaBoker 1:13)

How do you get to heaven? The best option is with the pure faith in the Creator of the world. The second? It is not recommended to try it at home, look what happened to the Dor Haflaga!

This week’s Torah portion is parshat “Noach.” The Torah relates the story of the flood, a mighty tsunami that swept the entire world and led to the loss of all mankind with the exception of Noah and his wife plus their sons and their wives. The entire world was wiped out due to their evil deeds and the utter corruption of any sense of morality, as was discussed in our lesson about the flood. Later in the parsha, the Torah relates how after the flood ended and the Noah’s sons went out from the ark and had children, the number of people in the world increased again until a generation arose which was called the “Dor Haflaga” or “Generation of the Dispersion (Tower of Babel).” The Torah describes their deeds: “Now the entire earth was of one language and uniform words…Then they said, ‘Come, let us build ourselves a city, with a tower that reaches to the heavens, so that we may make a name for ourselves; otherwise, we will be scattered over the face of the whole earth.’” (Genesis 11:1,4).

Humanity, the descendants of those who survived the flood, became degenerate and reached a new low. They united together and formed a special commission to consecrate a war against G-d. What was their agenda? Rashi, according to the Midrash, offers several possibilities: “They came with one plan and said, ‘He has no right to select the upper regions exclusively for Himself. Let us ascend to the skies and wage war against Him.’ Another explanation: [they spoke] against the Sole Being (G-d) of the universe. Yet another explanation is that they spoke ‘sharp words’: They said, Once every 1,656 years, the sky totters, as it did in the time of the Flood. Come and let us make supports for it” (from Genesis Rabbah 28:6).

So, what—were they completely crazy or just stupid? Let’s think for a moment: if they believed in the Creator how could they think they could build a tower to fight against Him? If they did not believe in the Creator, then what kind of nonsense was this idea to build a tower and fight against Him? Let us try to understand their plan.

The most important aspect of faith is the belief in the renewal of the world. This is the belief that G-d created the world out of nothing and renews the world at all times, as we say in our prayers in the blessing “yotzer hama’orot” (“the Creator of Lights”): “He renews daily, perpetually, the work of creation.” This is the basic belief that the Creator who created the world manages and supervises the world at all times, and that He is omnipotent and can do anything. As long as a person does not believe this, no matter how much the person believes in G-d, his faith will be lacking.

Let’s think for a moment: if they believed in the Creator how could they think they could build a tower to fight against Him?

Let us explain this with a simple example: You work in a factory that someone has set up. His has the right to decide how the work will be done and what his factory will produce. Let’s say someone were to come to you and tell you secretly that the boss left the factory and moved to another country, severing all ties to the factory. The factory really does not interest him anymore. He is now in another country, and he even got married there, and he has completely given up his factory. It simply does not interest him anymore. Suppose you know for sure that this is the truth and that he will never return to the factory ever again. Would you have any fear of him or feel any commitment to him? The moment you find out such a thing, you can basically do whatever you want. You can come and go whenever you feel like it; there is no owner in charge. Even though there was an owner, right now, practically speaking, there is no owner at all. Similarly, we believe that HaKadosh Baruch Hu created the world and continues managing the world at every moment—unlike those fools who think that the Creator created the world and then abandoned it and stopped watching over what was happening in the world.

Faith is the best tower to reach heaven with!

In the picture, the Tower of Babel – the megalomaniacal dream that shattered to pieces

When we congregate in the synagogue for prayer and in yeshivot to study Torah, we do so in order to strengthen this basic belief. However, in contrast to synagogues and yeshivot, there is an assembly of “synagogues” and “yeshivas” of flawed understanding and heresy in this belief. This was the intention of the generation of the Tower of Babel when they constructed the city and the tower. Their intention in building the city and the tower had a meaning that went beyond physical construction. Their stated intention was to build an entire city of buildings and towers which would contradict the belief in HaKadosh Baruch Hu. The peak of this structure was supposed to have reached the Heavens—meaning to the Creator of the world—and supposedly deny His existence.

This is the meaning what Rashi’s writes when he says that they used “sharp words.” Their idea to build supporting structures for the sky was based on heresy and a lack of belief in the renewal of the world—the idea that the world is run under the supervision of the Creator. The two interpretations brought by Rashi actually have one meaning. Their war against the Creator came from a theory they developed that there was a natural phenomenon that once every 1656 years, the sky would collapse. This was completely incorrect. It was a decision that the Creator made after humanity lost their way and became completely corrupted. This was not a natural phenomenon. When they decided to declare war against G-d, they were not foolish enough to think they could fight against G-d Himself. Their intention was to create a war with their opinions against the true view of holiness and the correct outlook of faith among mankind. This correct outlook would help mankind come to know G-d. But they wanted the opposite: to remove the presence of HaKadosh Baruch Hu from the land, so that no one would mention or even recognize the name of G-d here in this world, as it is written “who think to cause My people to forget My name” (Jeremiah 23:27). And so, this is what they meant when they said: “and we will make a name for ourselves. They wanted to appropriate G-d’s name and honor for themselves, because the name of G-d is His honor, as it is written, “And blessed is His glorious name forever” etc., (Psalms 72:19).

This is what the builders of the Tower of Babel planned to do. “And they said, ‘Come, let us build ourselves a city and a tower with its top in the heavens’” (Genesis 11:4). This was instead of gathering like the Jews do in the synagogue where through the power of faith, they reach up to heaven, as it is written: “This is none other than the house of G-d, and this is the gate of heaven” (Genesis 28:17). They sought to build a tower of evil ideas whose content would, so to speak, reach up to heaven in order to fight with the Creator. The construction was metaphorical and a cover for their malicious intent.

Our response to the generation of the Tower of Babel is to gather in synagogues and thus strengthen our faith in the renewal of the world and in the One Creator who oversees the whole world at all times.

(Based on Likutei Halachot, Beit HaKenesset 6:9)