On 17 of Tamuz the luchos were broken, and the days of our aveilus begin. Midrash Tanchuma says that the luchos were very heavy, but they carried themselves. When M”R saw what was happening, the osiyos flew up to Shomayim, and the weight was too much and M”R dropped them. First of all it’s interesting that the osiyos flew up not when the Jews started worshipping the egel but when M”R realized this. See an amazing connection between M”R and the Torah.
But the main point is that the body of Torah (the laws of the Torah) is by itself very heavy. Everywhere you turn, Halacha is there. Nevertheless there is the hashkafas haTorah, the osiyos, which make the guf haTorah very light. But when those osiyos are gone, the guf haTorah becomes very heavy, and at some point there is a shvirah. M”R saw that there was a corruption in the nishmas haumah – three aveiros chamuros were in the hearts of the people, and the egel was used to engage in their hidden desire. For such people the guf of the Halacha was too much.
Sefer Hatodaah also quotes a Yalkut Shimoni that says that when the Zkeinim saw that M”R was about to destroy the luchos, they tried to stop him, and they wrestled with him for it. Chazal say that his koach was greater than theirs. Nevertheless he overcame them only after the osiyos flew up. Why not immediately? Maybe because he represented the nishmas haTorah and they represented agents of guf haTorah since they were responsible of actualizing the Torah. He wanted to show them that when the ruach is gone, there is no guf either.
Chazal tell us that when the ruchani Beis Hamikdosh was destroyed, at that very moment the physical lost its koach as well, and it was a matter of time until it would fall apart.
We spoke at a different time that Hashkafa is represented by strength while Halacha is represented by a sword. A spirit is the strength with which a sword will be wielded, but without strength the sword is a burden. When the bird forgets that wings are for flying and it tries to run with them, they just slow her down.
These three weeks are a time to understand the importance of ruchniyus. It’s a time to examine how we unify the ruach haTorah and the guf haTorah.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Thoughts on Avodas Hashem
It is so easy to lose direction. Totally and absolutely lose our way. A little loss of focus leads to a millimeter-worth of richuk, completely unobservable to a naked eye, only discernible to the most sensitive and most focused individuals. Then another millimeter, and then a whole centimeter. Before a person knows it, he finds himself so far away. The changes are first pnimi. B’chetzonius, very little, if any, change can be perceived. The rot starts in the most hidden recesses of an eved’s being.
It starts with thoughts. A thought enters the mind, an inappropriate thought. Not necessarily an issur, but not a thought that in any way leads to avodas Hashem. It’s an interruption, nevertheless. A fleeting thought is not per se the end of the world. Doesn’t the Gemara tell us that bad thoughts simply can’t be escaped. Granted, long term, as a person works on himself, the nature, frequency, and intensity of these thoughts changes, but on the micro level, they can’t be escaped. The question is what is done with this thought. The problem is the holding on to the thought, engaging in the thought, cherishing the thought, expanding the thought, saving the thought for a later time. The thought begins to grow, gain power and momentum, and in the most inopportune time it comes to us, disturbing the most powerful elements of our avodas Hashem.
At this point, we have already let it go to far. We must use all of the tools that our Sages have provided for us in order to “abort” this process before it proceeds too far. If we do this early enough, little damage is done, and we will have actually grown from this stealthy attack of our yetzer.
Unfortunately, we sometimes let it go. We have this gnawing feeling that things are not b’seder, but we are too caught up with all kinds of engagements, maybe even good engagements. Rav Tzadok begins Resisei Layla defining this world as a place of hiluch, a place of tirda, with only death bringing rest. Nach nafshei.
We forget that lo b’raash Hu, but in a kol dmama v’daka. In that nekuda pnimis without which, as the Gerer Rebbi said, the Satan is ok with all of our Torah and mitzvos. Without this kol, kol hayotze from Har Chorev that is so hard to hear, we along with our Torah and mitzvos are pgarim meisim, ch”v. We feel like the state described in Orot Hatshuva 3, in an arid desert, in chains. Our feelings are crude, our thoughts lowly. We know that Hashem is not within us – which is the greatest chet of all. We don’t even have the koach to cry out – it somehow gets stuck in our throats. Even crying is denied to us. This is our 9th of Av, an absolute churban of ruchniyus of our Judaism, which leads to the inevitable crumbling of the gashmiyus of our Judaism.
We praise Hashem as a mechayei meisim. We are these corpses, and our bones are very dry. We are the ones who ask hopelessly, cynically, “Can these bones possibly live?” It takes tchiyas hameisim, the keys of which have been given to no man, to bring us back to life, to real life of v’atem hadveikim kulchem chayim hayom. We dream for our Elul, thirst for our Rosh Hashana, envisage our Yom Kippur, dream to sit in the bitachon safety of our sukah. The fire of our Chanukah will light up the darkness, and the simcha of Purim will show the true meaning of ein simcha k’hataras hasfeikos. Then comes cheirus, the cheirus of Pesach, Alma Decherusa, Alma Detshuvah. Then, and only then, we finally find our chelek in Torah, our personal chelek. His Torah, our Torah – Toras Hashem and Toraso. We still pray for the dry bones to live…
It is so easy to lose direction. Totally and absolutely lose our way. A little loss of focus leads to a millimeter-worth of richuk, completely unobservable to a naked eye, only discernible to the most sensitive and most focused individuals. Then another millimeter, and then a whole centimeter. Before a person knows it, he finds himself so far away. The changes are first pnimi. B’chetzonius, very little, if any, change can be perceived. The rot starts in the most hidden recesses of an eved’s being.
It starts with thoughts. A thought enters the mind, an inappropriate thought. Not necessarily an issur, but not a thought that in any way leads to avodas Hashem. It’s an interruption, nevertheless. A fleeting thought is not per se the end of the world. Doesn’t the Gemara tell us that bad thoughts simply can’t be escaped. Granted, long term, as a person works on himself, the nature, frequency, and intensity of these thoughts changes, but on the micro level, they can’t be escaped. The question is what is done with this thought. The problem is the holding on to the thought, engaging in the thought, cherishing the thought, expanding the thought, saving the thought for a later time. The thought begins to grow, gain power and momentum, and in the most inopportune time it comes to us, disturbing the most powerful elements of our avodas Hashem.
At this point, we have already let it go to far. We must use all of the tools that our Sages have provided for us in order to “abort” this process before it proceeds too far. If we do this early enough, little damage is done, and we will have actually grown from this stealthy attack of our yetzer.
Unfortunately, we sometimes let it go. We have this gnawing feeling that things are not b’seder, but we are too caught up with all kinds of engagements, maybe even good engagements. Rav Tzadok begins Resisei Layla defining this world as a place of hiluch, a place of tirda, with only death bringing rest. Nach nafshei.
We forget that lo b’raash Hu, but in a kol dmama v’daka. In that nekuda pnimis without which, as the Gerer Rebbi said, the Satan is ok with all of our Torah and mitzvos. Without this kol, kol hayotze from Har Chorev that is so hard to hear, we along with our Torah and mitzvos are pgarim meisim, ch”v. We feel like the state described in Orot Hatshuva 3, in an arid desert, in chains. Our feelings are crude, our thoughts lowly. We know that Hashem is not within us – which is the greatest chet of all. We don’t even have the koach to cry out – it somehow gets stuck in our throats. Even crying is denied to us. This is our 9th of Av, an absolute churban of ruchniyus of our Judaism, which leads to the inevitable crumbling of the gashmiyus of our Judaism.
We praise Hashem as a mechayei meisim. We are these corpses, and our bones are very dry. We are the ones who ask hopelessly, cynically, “Can these bones possibly live?” It takes tchiyas hameisim, the keys of which have been given to no man, to bring us back to life, to real life of v’atem hadveikim kulchem chayim hayom. We dream for our Elul, thirst for our Rosh Hashana, envisage our Yom Kippur, dream to sit in the bitachon safety of our sukah. The fire of our Chanukah will light up the darkness, and the simcha of Purim will show the true meaning of ein simcha k’hataras hasfeikos. Then comes cheirus, the cheirus of Pesach, Alma Decherusa, Alma Detshuvah. Then, and only then, we finally find our chelek in Torah, our personal chelek. His Torah, our Torah – Toras Hashem and Toraso. We still pray for the dry bones to live…
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Being vs Becoming
My apologies for being absent in the recent blog discussions. Yasher koach to all the contributors.
I used to believe that Chassidus’s main emphasis was on “being” and Mussar’s on “becoming.” By “being” am I referring to shedding one’s outer klipos and embracing the inner self as it is (call it the neshama if you would like). By “becoming” I mean looking towards the future, towards the development of potential, towards what could be. I have come to realize that this divide between Chassidus and Mussar does not exist; both approaches must embrace both concepts necessarily.
It seems that there are times when we must let ourselves simply be, and sit with who we are with a mindset of self-acceptance. However, remaining in this state for too long can lead one to complacency, that I am who I am and that is all I need to be. By contrast, there are times when we must focus on becoming, that the current state simply is not enough. However, an over-emphasis here can become reminiscent of a knight in full armor running forward into battle, completely unaware of where his enemy lies. It is a focus on moving forward without the insight of who is doing the moving. We must push ourselves, but we must make sure it is ourselves that we are pushing.
Indeed, the risk of falling off this tightrope in either direction is frightening. I would like to develop this idea further with the vaad. Comments are welcome.
I used to believe that Chassidus’s main emphasis was on “being” and Mussar’s on “becoming.” By “being” am I referring to shedding one’s outer klipos and embracing the inner self as it is (call it the neshama if you would like). By “becoming” I mean looking towards the future, towards the development of potential, towards what could be. I have come to realize that this divide between Chassidus and Mussar does not exist; both approaches must embrace both concepts necessarily.
It seems that there are times when we must let ourselves simply be, and sit with who we are with a mindset of self-acceptance. However, remaining in this state for too long can lead one to complacency, that I am who I am and that is all I need to be. By contrast, there are times when we must focus on becoming, that the current state simply is not enough. However, an over-emphasis here can become reminiscent of a knight in full armor running forward into battle, completely unaware of where his enemy lies. It is a focus on moving forward without the insight of who is doing the moving. We must push ourselves, but we must make sure it is ourselves that we are pushing.
Indeed, the risk of falling off this tightrope in either direction is frightening. I would like to develop this idea further with the vaad. Comments are welcome.
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