The Torah Typist

I'm a 19 year old girl with a penchant for Chassidus and a passion for conspiracy theories. I type up the Torah I learn and hope it's music to your ears too.

[thetorahtypist]

Toldos: So What Color is Your Gallbladder?

Story from the Talmud When Rabbi Yosi ben Kisma became ill, Rabbi Chanina went to visit him. Rabbi Yosi spoke strongly to his student: "Chanina, my brother, don't you realize that it is a heavenly decree that these people, the Romans, are allowed to rule over us? They are the same people who destroyed Temple, burned the Sanctuary, killed so many holy, pious people and destroyed everything good -- and they still exist! Yet I have heard it said that you sit and teach Torah publicly in huge assemblies while holding a Torah scroll in your arms."

Rabbi Chanina answered, "Heaven will have mercy on me."

Rabbi Yosi answered sharply: "I am telling you that your defiance is common knowledge and you answer me that Heaven will have mercy!? I would not be surprised if you are burned alive together with the Torah."

When Rabbi Chanina heard his rebbe's prediction of his death as a martyr, he knew immediately that it was true. Instead of panicking, he asked, "Rebbe, what will be my portion in the World to Come?"

"Have you ever in your life done a good deed ?"

"Yes. Once I prepared two purses of money for Purim. One was for the Purim meal, and the other contained money to be given to the poor, so that they, too, might enjoy a festive Purim meal. The two purses got mixed up and I didn't know which purse was for what purpose. So I took all the money I had in both purses -- all the money I had -- and gave it away to the poor."

When Rabbi Yosi heard about this deed he said, "If so, I wish that my portion would be as your portion, and that your fate be mine. "

This story brings up a number of perplexing queries. Why would Reb Yosei discourage Reb Chananya from spreading Torah?

How could Reb Chananya think that he wouldn’t get Olam Haba?

And why did this act of Tzedaka confirm his chances of the World to Come?

To help us understand, the Alter Rebbe will explore two different physiological features and their implications on the human personality.

Mara shchora = black bile - People born with a black bile tend to be more introverted, serious, have long attention spans, love to learn, focused, prone to stinginess, don’t like to give to others because that means they have to give over themselves.

Mara levona = white bile - Those born with white biles are more expressive people, spontaneous, love to give, could be oversharers, unfocused, like to have fun, may be considered “ADD.”

But now we have an issue, because when every person goes up to the heavens, he’ll be asked by the beis din shel ma’aleh: “Did you set time for Torah study?” But if the mara schora enjoys learning, then he’s at a tremendous advantage!

Everything is relative Hashem doesn’t judge us like that, because it’s totally unfair. Instead, half hour of learning for the mara levona can be worth more than two hours of the mara shchora’s scholarship.

Back to our story Reb Chanina asked Reb Yosi if he’d get Olam Haba because, though he spread Torah, he didn’t know where his actions are coming from. Is he like a philosopher who just learns because he’s genetically inclined to deep, complicated subjects? Or is he learning just because Hashem told him to?

So R. Yosi asked him if he can tell him something he did that would reveal his true nature.

When R. Chanina said the story about having two purses of money and giving both to tzedaka, R. Yosi realized that it was R. Chanina’s nature to give freely, which is a characteristic of the mara levona.

R. Yosi then said, "If so, I wish that my portion would be as your portion, and that your fate be mine,” because he knew that R. Chanina learned all this Torah despite the fact that his mara levona nature was less inclined to it.

It’s not about how far you are but how far you’ve come It’s not about what you do but how much effort you put into it. Even R. Chanina was concerned about this! If it’s in your nature to enjoy a certain mitzvah, then that’s your clue to invest even more of yourself into it, so that you’re doing it totally for G-d.

The Arizal says that people are born with different battles. Hashem judges us based on our efforts, not necessarily our results.

Parsha Q: Why did Yitzchak want to give the brachos to Esav? A: Yitzchak knew that Esav was born a rasha, which means his nature wasn’t his fault. Yitzchak wanted to give him the weapons to battle his challenge. This blessing was the responsibility and power of Torah and Mitzvos.

Yitzchak’s mistake was that he thought that Yakov was so perfect, he wouldn’t need Torah. Yet Esav was so evil, he would’ve actually used Torah for the bad. (Give a druggie 10,000 dollars and see if he buys bread and milk with the cash…) Instead, Yitzchak gave the brachos to Yakov in order for him to help refine Esav, because Yakov needed the Torah if he wanted to deal with the world and elevate Esav.

We are all born with specific natures, which means we’re inclined to certain actions over others. Even if we desire to do something good - like give tzedaka - we must push ourselves to be sure that this mitzvah isn’t just coming from our natural tendencies. Hashem judges us in the most refined and sensitive way, and doesn’t compare our successes to those of others. Above all else, he wants to see us try.

[thetorahtypist]

Chayei Sara: HP (Hashgacha Protis??)

I was doodling the mark of Grindelwald (Harry Potter sometimes makes his way into my daydreams) when I had an epiphany. 

The line-circle-triangle, which symbolizes the Elder wand, resurrection stone and invisibility cloak of the deathly hallows, has some significance in Torah. When Tamar approached Yehuda to fulfill the prophecy and beget a child, she knew she’d be in danger if she, as a betrothed woman, would return home pregnant. (I strongly recommend you read this article to clarify this trippy story) So, protecting herself, she demanded from Yehuda something I his possession to use as a sort of paternity claim. He gave her a staff, a ring, and a cloak. 

Sketch those objects together and you’ve got the mark of Grindelwald.

But I wasn't the creative mind behind that theory! My epiphany today was the connection between the symbol and an earlier event in Torah. 

When Yitzchak brought his new bride Rivka to his mothers tent, he immediately looked out for the miracles that happened when his mother Sara was alive. Her Shabbos candles stayed lit the whole week, her bread was fresh from Friday to Friday, and, because of her extreme tznius and care with family purity, her tent was constantly surrounded by the shechina. 

A candle. A roll. A tent. 

A line. A circle. A triangle. 

Ahhh! Cool, eh? If you’ve discovered any other Torah-Potter analogies, do share.

(I'm Rowling on the river of Torah)

no comment

[thetorahtypist]

Vayeira: Kosher Torah

My simultaneously brilliant, pessimistic, and loyal friend, “E” will grace us with her words this parsha. Notice how the sentences just flow so eloquently from her quill... #TorahOnFleek

What you may have missed in last week’s Parsha: Avraham has a bris at the age of 99, and Hashem subsequently turns up the heat so that he can rest without worrying about visitors. Avraham, however, insists on sitting outside to wait for guests, and is visited by the three angels. 

Moshe has an Epic Win Moshe Rabbeinu ascends to heaven to accept the Torah on behalf of the Jews, but has a showdown with the Malachim, who claim that they deserve the Torah because the Jews messed up with Cheit HaEgel. Moshe argues that the Malachim do not have a valid case because on the one day that they came down to the earth to visit Avraham, they consumed milk and meat together. Buuuuurn. The Malachim concede defeat, and Moshe takes the Torah. Yay Moses. 

But wait, there’s more… There’s a flaw in Moshe’s argument. The pasuk relates that the Malachim first had milk, and only afterward did they consume the meat. What did Moshe mean? Is it that they did not wait a full hour in between the meat and dairy? 

Getting technical TBH, there was no command to wait an hour between meat and dairy--the law was only to rinse the mouth between eating the two. The Shaloh instituted the hour wait later on, so that can’t be our argument. Oh dear. 

Hot and Cold Let’s take a look at the laws of batul bishishim. If a bit of milk falls into a pot of meat or vice versa, if both are cold it’s okay, but if both are hot, it isn’t. For example:  If you have a cold pot of milk, and a bit of hot meat falls in, it’s okay, because the milk is the “first” (the base, larger quantity) of the two, and it cools down the meat. In other words, it affects whatever comes after it. If the milk is hot, and a bit of cold meat falls in, the mixture is not okay because the hot milk heats up the cold meat. Bam. The milk is the deciding factor. This concept is known as “tata’ah gavar,” the bottom dominates.

Bottoms Up Rav and Shmuel had their differences. When it comes to Dinei Heter Vi’issur, we go according to the former, because Rav was the more logical and practical of the two. Shmuel, who was a psychologist, paskened Dinei Mammon, money, because he could better understand people. In this case, however, we follow Shmuel, who rules that Tata’ah gavar (Rav was of the opinion that Ila’ah gavar--meaning, the second would affect the first.) 

Say No to Cheeseburgers Milk (smooth, flowing, white) represents chessed, while meat (strong, thick, red) represents gevurah. The Malachim’s argument was that “Ila’ah gavar,” the top rules, meaning that the Torah should remain with them on high. The physical earth is tata’ah, the spiritual heavens, ila’ah. If the Malachim believed in this, it would imply that they had indeed eaten treif, because in this case the secondary hot meat, which they consumed after the milk, would affect the milk and make the mixture unacceptable.

Happily Ever After The fact that the Malachim had the milk first and the meat second shows that they believed in tata’ah gavar. When they claimed ila’ah gavar, Hashem said, in that case, you have sinned. He showed them that they didn’t really believe in ila’ah gavar, or they wouldn’t have eaten in such a manner. The Malachim conceded defeat, and we got to keep the Torah. Hooray!

[thetorahtypist]

Ki Savo: The Joyous Fighter

Because you did not serve G‑d with happiness and with gladness of heart, in abundance of everything, therefore you shall serve your enemies . . . (28:47–48)

Because you did not serve G‑d when you enjoyed happiness and the abundance of all good things, you shall now suffer want. (Rashi)

Even though you served G‑d, you did not serve Him with joy—that is the source of all afflictions. (Maimonides)

In the case of two people wrestling, each trying to throw down the other, if one of them moves with sloth and lethargy, he will be easily defeated and felled, even if he is stronger than his fellow. So, too, in battling one’s evil inclination, one can prevail over it . . . only with alacrity that comes from joy and from a heart that is free and cleansed from every trace of worry and sadness . . . (Tanya)

Melancholy is not a sin. But the spiritual damage which melancholy can cause, the gravest of sins cannot cause. (Chassidic saying)

Paradoxically, we don’t overcome depression by delving into it and figuring out the why’s and how’s of our sadness. That just pulls us into a downward spiral of despair. (I want to clarify that I’m not talking about clinical depression, but about the bouts of moodiness and self-doubt that we so often succumb to.) By recognizing that this mood is an outside force that’s trying to get us to give up and lose the battle, we realize that it’s not our real self. Our G-dly soul is always happy, so if we’re feeling down, it’s a because our animal soul gained control. 

We NEED to be passionate people! There’s so much apathy and indifference around us these days, and it’s infectious. Although it’s hard to be enthusiastic about Yiddishkeit when so many others aren’t, the same way it’s hard to step up and lead when most are following, our excitement will endorph others.

(Guys that’s my new word: endorph: “To infuse others with your excitement so that they eventually spread the passion on.” Even if Urban Dictionary rejects it, I think it’s cool :) )

We just can’t get discouraged, because when we’re weak, our animal soul decides to strike a punch and curb our enthusiasm.  

Shavua tov!

[thetorahtypist]

Ki Seitzeh: There Is No Despair

In my experience, there are certain things that are more “losable” than others. Cell phones, sunglasses, metro cards and crucial papers are particularly slippery, and, considering that the average person misplaces up to nine items a day, we invest a lot of time looking for these lost objects. More things slide through our fingers than car keys though; we lose our trains of thought, words, chances, friends, and sometimes, ourselves. Through interpolating the Halachic concept of loss with a Chassidic approach, we can understand what it means to lose our conscious awareness of our soul, and how to ultimately find it.

Parshas Ki Seitzeh is the original source for the mitzvah of returning lost objects, which the Gemara discusses at length. According to Torah, true ownership has two aspects. The owner must have the item in his physical possession, as well as believe that it's his. Since it is ordained in Heaven how much wealth a soul should have, there is a spiritual connection between man and his possessions. Therefore, how one perceives his possessions is how they will relate to him. In other words, to truly own something, you need to also think that it's yours.

Herein lies the halachic concept of yi'ush, the initial despair one feels when he gives up hope in finding his lost item. Once he has yi'ush, he, in essence, withdraws his ownership and leaves the object available to whoever finds it.

There is a disagreement between the sages Rava and Abaya over when there is yi'ush. Rava claims that even if the owner isn't aware that his money fell out of his pocket, and hence doesn't consciously despair finding the cash, it’s still no longer his. Since he eventually will notice and almost certainly have yi'ush, that future probability is enough to render the money ownerless now. This is known as yi'ush shelo mida'as, unconscious despair.

Abaya argues with Rava, claiming that until someone is conscious of his missing money, he owns it. Because a vital aspect of ownership is one's perception of the article, if he still thinks it's his, then it is.

The Gemara concludes the topic by affirming Abaya's opinion, ruling that yi'ush shelo mida'as, unconscious despair, lo havey yi'ush, isn't real despair, and doesn't make the item ownerless.

Through the lens of Chassidus, we can see how Rava and Abaya's differing perspectives on loss relate to us, our souls, and our timeless ability to do Teshuva.

It's written in Gemara Chagiga, "Eizehu shoteh? Hameabed kol mah shenotnim lo—Who is a fool? One who loses what was given to him." The "mah —what" refers to a Jew’s Neshama. (Like when you hear wonderfully shocking news you ask in awe, "What?" our Neshama is so unlimited and powerful that we can only stand by open-mouthed.) Though we were chosen to guard and express our essential being, we lose sight of its desires and ambitions. As we start viewing anything other than Hashem as our primary focus in life, we become deaf to our soul’s voice.

However, some people simply aren't to blame for this. Like a child born to a prisoner of war, some were never taught a different way! How can such a person have yi'ush on his Neshama’s potential if he never had a chance to access it? He literally doesn’t know what he’s missing! Following Rava's opinion, where yi'ush shelo mida’as is valid and an unconscious loss is a true loss, this person’s neshama would be lost to him.

Abaya, on the other hand, views yi'ush as a choice made by the person himself. Since the person is unaware of the Neshama’s capacity, and therefore doesn't know that it's gone, he cannot mourn its loss. According to Abaya, this person still has complete ownership. This Jew just needs to awaken his soul by learning Torah and becoming aware of G-d in his life —and his "mah" will be revealed to him.

But what about someone who forwent his Neshama's desires purposely? Is he lost? Is it too late for him? Even Abaya says that once he's conscious of the loss, his object is not his!

Here the Gemara makes a distinction between active and passive yi'ush. When someone loses his watch, he despairs because he has no choice in the matter. If, however, he takes his watch off and declares that he doesn't want it anymore, he actively renounced his ownership, which means the halachos are slightly different.

Usually one needs to do a physical action, a Kinyan, in order to transfer ownership from one to another. In a case of active yi'ush though, the only thing that changed is his attitude toward his watch. While it's still in his physical domain, it became vulnerable to someone else seizing it. If he wants to reclaim it, he doesn't even need to pick it up again; by merely deciding mentally that he still wants it, it becomes his.

It's true that a Jew can choose to forgo his soul's inclination and sin without any guilty conscience. Despite his blatant yi'ush, his Neshama still belongs to him; he just doesn't think so. And with just one thought, one hirhur Teshuva, one tiny, "This is mine," he's not lost anymore.

Such a Jew exists inside all of us, and that’s why Teshuva, regret and transformation, is relevant in all of our lives. Teshuva stands for "tashuv hey —the return of the hey," which means our reconnection to what's good and true: our Neshama. Teshuva comes about when we despair our current situation, and yearn for an alternate reality. The very yi'ush, the heartbreaking despair, upon realizing how far we are, is what causes our lost item to be returned to us!

Now that Elul has arrived and the gates of Teshuva are slowly opening, we're given a heightened consciousness of our goals in life and how we've met them. During this time of introspection, it's easy to be concerned that we aren’t worthy to choose Hashem as our King once more. Specifically now, though, when the King is in the field, and our Neshamos are stirring inside of us, we have the strength to seize ownership of our senses, and reconnect with our true will.

[thetorahtypist]

Emor: Bread from Heaven

This Parsha tells a very interesting story, in which a man “goes out and curses Hashem.”

Since every word in Torah is precise and needed, where is this man coming from?

The Midrash answers that “he left the events from the previous parsha, Kedoshim.”  

There must be a profound connection between the curse of this man and the last topic in Parshas Kedoshim.

The last topic speaks about the lechem hapanim, the twelve loaves of bread, that the Kohanim ate. These loaves would be baked on Shabbos and left out till the following Shabbod. This man found it laughable that the high priest should eat bread that’s been sitting out for nine days.

What’s the big deal? Why does this incident cause the man to curse Hashem and serve a death sentence?!

The Poliner Rebbe writes that lechem—bread, is a symbol for Hashgachas Shamayim, G-dly supervision, and the belief that Hashem provides for our needs. Furthermore, the Maharal writes that “pas,” another term for bread, Kabbalistically represents the wealth that Hashem gives to Bnei Yisrael.

So when the blasphemer mocked the bread of the Kohanim, he was really scoffing at the idea that prosperity is in the hands of Heaven. He couldn’t accept that some things are beyond man’s control.

Yet the lechem hapanim didn’t get dry or moldy; it stayed fresh and hot the entire week.

If we relinquish some control, we leave room for Hashem to perform wonders because He constantly supervises our lives and knows what’s best for us. This doesn’t mean we should quit our jobs and rely on miracles, because we have to do our part as well, yet we shouldn’t let work and money take up primary brain space. We have to make a vessel for wealth, but remember that it’s G-d who puts bread on the table, not us. 

[thetorahtypist]

Kedoshim: The Real Me

ב דַּבֵּר אֶל כָּל עֲדַת בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וְאָמַרְתָּ אֲלֵהֶם קְדשִׁים תִּהְיוּ כִּי קָדוֹשׁ אֲנִי יְהוָֹה אֱלֹהֵיכֶם Speak to the entire congregation of the children of Israel, and say to them, You shall be holy, for I, the Lord, your God, am holy.

Mitzvos don’t make us holy. We do Mitzvos because we’re holy. They’re just an expression of our internal will, something that’s been with us all along, albeit in a concealed state. If you do an aveira, this holiness gets covered up even more, and why would you want your true self to be hidden? You’re perfect: express it!

[thetorahtypist]

Just Late, Not Never!

My greatest apologies for the influx of past parshios flooding your newsfeeds! I’ve been very busy lately and wasn’t able to write as often as I wanted. BEZH I will soon be up to date, and since Torah isn’t bound by time, feel free to read my posts even if they’re from a parsha long gone. There is always something new to learn!

(I just liked this picture)

[thetorahtypist]

Acharei Mos: A Little Respect

In this Parsha, the Kohen is commanded to cover the blood of a bird or animal that’s been offered to Hashem.

It’s written in the Talmud that the same way shechita—slaughter is done by hand, so should this act be done by hand (and not by foot). The reason is because every mitzvah is beautiful and should not be disgraced, and since hands are more refined and sensitive than feet, they should be used.

The Brisker Rav adds an explanation to this teaching. When you give charity to somebody, that person actually becomes the mitzvah, so you must treat him with respect.

This is pretty fascinating on many levels. People becoming mitzvahs?! That means that every time I’ve acted kindly to another Jew, she became the mitzvah of Ahavas Yisrael! She enabled me to connect to Hashem and draw down an encompassing light into this world.

If you think of the power of a single tiny good deed, and the love it causes G-d to radiate, then you can really appreciate what the person involved in the action helps you do. Even if the mitzvah--or person--seems small to us, the same way covering the blood seems much less important than the slaughter, we have no idea how much impact it has, and how how valuable the person is. 

So you see, doing mitzvos and respecting others are mutually inclusive; we cannot neglect either one if we want to draw down G-d’s kindness through our deeds, thereby making the world a better place.

[thetorahtypist]

Tazria-Metzora: Opposites Attract

“A woman who gives seed forth first gives birth to a son”

Men source from chesed--kindness, while women source from gevurah--severity.

Question: How on earth can two opposite forces have a harmonious relationship?

Answer: Men and women actually express themselves opposite to their nature. For example, fathers usually take the rational, disciplined approach to parenting, which is an expression of gevurah. Meanwhile, the source of the male energy is actually chesed! The same goes with women, whose conscious personalities lean toward chesed, while their souls actually source from gevurah. The mother is usually more emotionally involved in the details of her childrens’ lives, and lends a lenient approach to their discipline.

The reason why men and women are able to live together happily is because they actually have so much in common, despite their inherent differences. Today I hear a lot of people saying, “You gotta accept me for who I am.” But if everyone was completely true to themselves, we’d all burn! Harmony comes when people are willing to change parts of themselves to accommodate the other.

Hashem created human beings to be full of paradoxes. This makes life super confusing, but wondrously rewarding when we solve them. Solving a paradox means coming to the realization that this contradiction had a purpose, whatever that means to each person.

For me, I’ve found that having multiple identity crises, each one more miserable than the next, has helped me connect better with others. Since I’ve had such confusion over who I am and who I want to be, I can empathize with many different kinds of people, because I find the part of me that is them! It’s kind of a relief, to know that Hashem made me go through this struggle so that I can come to a deeper understanding.

The same way marriage takes a lot of labor for it to remain stable and loving, we all need to work to harmonize the disparity we see around us, because that’s when we’ll find tiferes, beauty, the perfect balance of chesed and gevurah. And here’s a tool: we’re not so different from each other! Yes, look a little deeper into your enemy’s eyes, and find that part of him that’s in you too. Understand him. Love him. That’s how Moshiach will come.

[thetorahtypist]

Shemini: On Dry Land

Seder. Remember when you were a kid and memorized, “Kadesh ven der tatte kumt aheim fun shul macht er bald kiddush”? In my house, the men amble into the dining room much past bedtime. By the time everyone settles and people make peace with the seating arrangement, it’s past ten and we’re starving. Kiddush is made, hands are washed, onion is eaten (whilst grumbling about the irony that our Russian heritage won’t let us eat a potato instead), and, according to tradition, each family member recites the Ma Nishtana in order of age, in Yiddish.

My father then utilizes each precious opportunity to smuggle in a Torah vort, most of which we already know because he said it the year before, and which he will continue to say throughout all the meals of Pesach. Mutter internally: kibud av, kibud av.

This year, when we reached the Dayenus, I had something new to share at the Seder table.

Each Dayeinu begins, “Had we not ______ , it would have been enough.” It’s a beautiful prayer, and is almost contemporarily poetic, in the way that it shows us how the Jewish nation consciously understood their freedom. (I feel like Chumash shows the facts, but these prayers show the emotions.)

There’s one dayenu that’s quite curious:

אִלּוּ קָרַע לָנוּ אֶת הַיָּם Ilu kara lanu et hayam, If He had split the sea for us,

וְלֹא הֶעֱבִירָנוּ בְּתוֹכוֹ בֶּחָרָבָה v'lo he'eviranu b'tocho becharavah and had not taken us through it on dry land

דַּיֵּנוּ dayeinu! Dayenu, it would have been enough!

But had we not passed through we’d be dead!

The Abarbenel points out the key word here is “charava--on dry land.” G-d could have let us pass through the ocean on a muddy patch of quicksand. We’d have made it to the other side, albeit a bit dirty and worn. Instead, Hashem made the road through the ocean as dry as if it were a regular desert path.

The Rebbe questions this answer If all the dayenus discuss major miracles, what’s so wondrous about G-d keeping our feet clean on our way out?

In truth, dry land and sea are essential Chassidic concepts that describe the makeup of the universe.

When Hashem split the sea, it’s written, “Hafach yam layabasha--He turned the ocean into the shore.” Just like the ocean contains unimaginable depths and keeps most of its secrets hidden, there is also a level of G-dliness, the “hidden world,” that is too deep and esoteric for us to comprehend.

Life on the shore, though, isn’t as mysterious. We relate to this world because it’s open and easier to understand. This represents the “revealed world” of G-dliness, where we connect to a version of Hashem that fits into our lives.

In our lives You can observe a beggar sitting on the side of the street, and conclude from his external appearance that he is uneducated mentally retarded, or just pitiful.

He had actually been a successful engineer in a foreign country, and wasn’t able to find a proper job in America. He couldn’t afford rent anymore and lost faith in himself. He resorted to begging because he had no other choice.

How could you know this all from glancing at his form for a few seconds? You can’t because there are things that aren’t apparent from an outward perspective.

G-d also has internal and external dimensions For example, the command to keep Shabbos. There are thousands of rules and discussions and halachos dealing with the mitzvah itself: how to keep Shabbos. These all show you how to follow instructions in ways that you understand.

There’s a whole other realm to the mitzvah, though. Why did Hashem, whose so powerful and awesome, need to rest? What’s the significance in the number seven? Why aren’t we allowed to tie a permanent knot on Shabbos if it’s not hard work?

We’re not afraid to ask because these questions have answers, yet they’re no longer found on the surface. We have to scuba dive into the inner world of Torah to understand.

Krias Yam Suf After G-d wrenched us out of the impurity of Egypt, He split the sea for us both physically and metaphysically. He ripped open the hidden world of G-dliness and let us travel through it.

And this experience of pure, lofty G-dliness would’ve been enough for us! Dayenu!

Yet, Hashem decided to give us a gift: a dry path through the ocean. He could have given us hallucinogens and put us in an ecstatic, otherworldly state, and lifted us above our reality.

Instead, He let us walk through the ocean on what we’re most familiar with: land. He revealed to us the hidden world, the mysterious workings of the universe, in a way that we could internalize and utilize in our lives. This way, when we come out on the other end, we won’t just plummet back to earth. This began the process of bringing heaven down to earth, because the Jews were able to be human beings, not angels, and still bring G-dliness into their mundane lives.

Our Parsha This idea is also relayed in Parshas Shemini, which tells the story of Nadav and Avihu. These two holy men wanted to experience G-dliness completely separate from the physical world. That’s why they never married and abstained from material pleasures. They had such a desire--ratzu--to cleave to Hashem in a sublime, lofty way, that their souls left their bodies. Though they were great Tzaddikim, their ideology was mistaken, because they didn’t understand that Hashem wanted them to have shuv--stability, and serve Him in this physical world.

There’s a reason why we were placed down on earth. We can’t fight physicality or escape it, but we can find its intrinsic purpose that will help us with our own mission of bringing heaven down to earth.

[thetorahtypist]

Tzav: This Flame Won’t Falter

ואֵשׁ תָּמִיד תּוּקַד עַל הַמִּזְבֵּחַ לֹא תִכְבֶּה: A continuous fire shall burn upon the altar; it shall not go out.

The fire was obviously G-dly, and descended as G-d’s initiative, yet the Kohen was still commanded to kindle the wood each morning. Even though Hashem could have kept the flame burning, He needed a human to take part in the process, to connect the earthly and the Divine.

In our hearts we have two altars, just like the two in the Bais Hamikdash. Our internal altar, the inner dimension of our hearts, is always aflame with a love for G-d that can never be extinguished. Our external Mizbeach, the outer dimension of our heart, can also be lit with passion for Hashem, but since it’s outside and more susceptible to bad weather, we have to be the Kohen who consistently keeps the fire burning. This is the conscious love that we can arouse ourselves.

In Tanya, the hidden love is called Ahava Mesuteres. Although it’s not what gets us through daily life, it reveals itself during bursts of inspiration or “moments of truth.” That’s the reason why people who’ve never gone to Shul more than two days a year suddenly decide to switch their world around for Judaism and why non-observant Jews sacrificed themselves for G-d during the Holocaust.  Because this love for G-d transcends Torah and Mitzvos, it keeps your innermost insides warm through thick and thin. You don’t need to earn it.

The problem is that flashes of inspiration are just that; flashes. You might be suddenly  awakened and feel your inner Mizbeach, but after some time, it gets covered once more. Whether from sadness, laziness, insecurity, self-doubt and all the things that make us lose touch with who we are, the clarity gained for those minutes or days or years is clouded. That’s why you can’t rely on the inner love to get you through life, but need to cultivate a conscious, and maybe unnatural fire inside. What is this flame? Love, passion, enthusiasm, and positivity for life--for G-d.

This is very pretty, but it seems like a Catch-22: Our undying, limitless passion for Hashem is mostly concealed, while our erratic, unstable love is what we consciously feel!

But it’s specifically because the love we control is erratic that it has the potential to be the most effective. It’s also the hardest to maintain.

In this Parsha Hashem is telling us: your job in this world is to toil to live--not to survive--but to live. He will inspire you from time to time, but your business is to keep the outer flame going, day in day out, kindling firewood even when it’s tedious and boring. When He sees you use your own capabilities to increase your chayus, He mirrors your effort and throws you another matchstick.

If the outer Mizbeach is more susceptible to the elements, how are you expected to keep it burning? The answer lies in the words of the posuk: ואֵשׁ תָּמִיד תּוּקַד עַל הַמִּזְבֵּחַ לֹא תִכְבֶּה. “Lo sichbeh,” extinguish the “Lo--no.” Start saying “Yes man!,” and look at life through a more positive lens.

My teacher, a world renowned orator, told me that she got the best advice in her life from the lighting guy during one of her rehearsals. She was so nervous that she kept stuttering and missing words when he told her, “When you get out there, paste the biggest, fakest smile on your face and then start talking.” She did that and her heart followed her pseudo-grin.

When you are determined to make the best of things, it’s incredible how reality literally changes. As the Kotzker Rebbe answered someone who asked where G-d is, “He’s there wherever you let Him in.” If you don’t let the bad weather get to you and you see Hashgacha Protis in every detail of your life, this outer Mizbeach will stay lit.

But what if you’re more of the pessimistic sort, and you lost all drive to keep learning, help others, and improve yourself? The Ba’al Shem Tov writes that “if the flame does go out, it’s your job to rekindle.” Remember: G-d already gave you the tools! He doesn’t ask of us anything that we can’t fulfill! The inspiration will come, but you can’t wait for it. You have to be the Kohen who unyieldingly forces those dying embers to live.

There is third option, however. Or a shortcut. As much as each of us are our own Kohen, there is a Kohen of the entire Jewish nation. Connecting to this spiritual leader arouses our inner altar and gives us strength to carry through the job ourselves.

This is the reason why Chabad is so fanatic about connecting to the Rebbe. It’s not just that we want Him to uplift us with nigunim and vertlach and make our lives easy. He actually reveals to us our own power, and makes us realize that we have what it takes to live a passionate, joyous life.

Each and every Jew can bring so much light to the world because he is light. He just doesn’t know it because he doesn’t see it. But tell me, do we need to see things for them to exist? Believe in yourself and your ability to do good, because if G-d does, you have no right not to.

[thetorahtypist]

Vayikra: With a Grain of Salt

It’s written in the Gemara that as a few Rabbanim were walking down a street, they saw a ragged girl collecting dung at the side of the road. On of the Rabbanim glanced at her face and yelped in recognition. This girl was from one of the wealthiest families in Israel. When he asked her what had happened, she said her father’s business had failed, leaving her family paupers. Desperate to collect a few coins, she was searching the streets for something to sell as fertilizer. To this, the Rav proclaimed, “Melach mammon chaser.”

Salt of money is lacking?

This remark is anything but cryptic if we understand the true translation, and the connection it has to this week’s Torah portion. In Parshas Vayikra, it says, "Every meal offering that you offer to the Almighty do make it chometz for you shall burn no yeast, no any honey, in any offering of the Almighty made by fire. With all your offerings you shall offer salt" (2, 11, 13)

Salt is the only mineral that humans routinely eat, because it makes food taste good, and is also vital to regulating the water content of our bodies. When I hiked in Eilat, the tour guide showed me clusters of flowers that held minuscule amounts of salt in their stems--natural remedies for parched travelers. By sucking on the plant, people stayed alive for days without food and water.

This is because, aside from amplifying the flavor in whatever it’s added to, salt is also a preservative. In the days before iceboxes and refrigerators, people salted their meats to keep them from getting rancid through the harsh winter.

What the Rav meant by “Melach mammon chaser,” was that the “melach,” or “preservative” of money is “chaser,” lacking it. By giving charity, you actually retain your wealth.

This concept of “giving is getting” applies to so many areas of life. The other day, my friend told me about her struggle with Tznius and how she finally reached a certain peace with the Mitzvah. She changed her perspective from one that views Tznius as a burden and discomfort, to a way to do something solely for Hashem. Not because it logically makes sense to her, not because she feels connected to the deed, and not because she’ll burn in Hell if she doesn’t wear pantyhose. Just because she loves G-d and wants to give Him and unconditional gift.

She touched on an essential nerve of our relationship with G-d. According to Chasssidus, our souls shine through when we give up our opinions and desires for Hashem.

It’s exactly for this reason that G-d chose the Jewish people--because of their ability to self-sacrifice! As the Rebbe Rayatz says in a Ma’amer of Parshas Emor: We’re not the Chosen Ones because of our mental ability, emotional intelligence, superior body builds or spiritual capacity. Hashem didn’t even choose us because of our Nefesh Elokis.

We were chosen to receive the Torah and have such close interaction with Hashem because we are the only ones willing to give up our will for the sake of Heaven. (And even Kamikaze pilots and suicide bombers can’t do this.)

When you give of yourself, you become more of a person. And by “person” I mean more refined, less materialistic, and more selfless. Actually you’re just allowing your Nefesh Elokis more control over your consciousness, and forcing your animal soul to step aside.

So the message of Vayikra is to bring up our Korbon with a grain of salt. Korbon is milashon “karov--closer” because this sacrifice of impulse or desire brings us closer to Hashem, and closer to our true selves.

[thetorahtypist]

Vayakhel-Pekudei: Glittery Misgivings

Are you the kind of person who doesn’t leave the house without a contingency plan? Do you eye over-friendly people suspiciously and carry a can of mace in your backpack in case a Jihadist infiltrates your school cafeteria? Whether you consider yourself a worrywort or a strategist, you’re still someone who’s uncertain about the success of Plan A.

Two Greats meet The sixth Chabad Rebbe, Reb Yosef Yitzchak was under incredible political strain during Communist regime, and his physical health suffered. He occasionally visited rehabilitation resorts, or spas, in the countryside to regain his energy. On one such visits, the Amshinover Rebbe, (a Polisher Rebbe known for his incredible Ahavas Yisrael), was also at the spa in Carlsbad, Bohemia. Reb Yosef Yitzchak, the Frierdiker Rebbe, asked him, “What did you tell your Kehilla in the past week?”

For some reason, he didn’t want to answer, yet the Frierdiker Rebbe prodded him until he spoke.

The vort And the princes brought the shoham stones and filling stones for the ephod and for the choshen;

כז וְהַנְּשִׂאִם הֵבִיאוּ אֵת אַבְנֵי הַשֹּׁהַם וְאֵת אַבְנֵי הַמִּלֻּאִים לָאֵפוֹד וְלַחשֶׁן:

Rashi explains in the name of Reb Nosson “This is what the princes said, “Let the community donate what they will donate, and whatever they are missing we will complete.” Since the community completed everything, as it is said: “And the work was sufficient” (Exod. 36:7), the princes said, “What are we to do?” So they brought the shoham stones, etc. Therefore, they brought donations first for the dedication of the altar.

Rashi continues with the repercussions of their actions: “Since at first they were lazy [i.e., they did not immediately donate], a letter is missing from their name, and וְהַנְשִׂיאִם is written [instead of וְהַנְשִׂיאִים, with additional “yud” s].”

Scenario: I run a charity organization for orphaned polar bears. After meeting with the illustrious and wealthy Ploni, he interrupts me and says, “I want you to try and raise raise ten million dollars, and if you haven’t gathered all the money by next week, I’ll donate the difference.”

What I definitely would not answer is, “How dare you! I hereby strip you of the “P” in your PhD for insinuating that I won’t succeed!”

In reality, There is hardly a seminary, yeshiva, museum, organization, shliach, preschool, park or highway that doesn’t pine for such a person.

So why does Rashi say the princes were lazy? Wasn’t this a magnanimous gesture? Yet they’re not rewarded, but punished!

The Amshinover answers When Nesiim told Bnei Yisrael they’d fill what’s extra, they introduced a doubt that the Yiddin would accomplish the goal. A real leader, a Nasi, has to strive for 110 percent! A Nasi pushes and prods and challenges his people to test their limits. A Nasi doesn’t sell his people short.

My Rebbe If you watch videos or read accounts of peoples’ encounters with the Lubavitcher Rebbe, you’ll notice a common thread. Whenever someone tells the Rebbe about the community service they support, or the synagogues they built, or the books that they’ve printed, the Rebbe’s answers sound something like, “Nu, and what more will you do?”

Because he didn’t want any Jew to be satisfied with where he is; he wanted us to grow continuously. Never mind social conventions and unheard of campaign schemes! The Rebbe was someone who saw possibilities in the world, and possibilities in its people.

[thetorahtypist]

Ki Sisa (Purim): It Girl

My tenth grade English teacher had frizzy black hair, a disturbing sense of humor, and absolutely no concern about what we thought of her. How I dreaded getting back my essays after she was done with them… my poor piece of writing was a carcass picked apart by this large vulture. Incidentally, she was a great teacher.

One the mantras she barked at us repeatedly was “show, don’t tell!” Like, instead of writing, “Her eyes were beautiful,” write, “her eyes were the color of autumn leaves.” Really, this is the most important rule of good writing, because it allows the reader to observe the scene and come to his own conclusions, which makes for a much more interesting story.

I thought of this woman and her favorite directive on Purim.

It’s written in Chapter Three of Megillas Esther: And Haman said to King Ahasuerus, "There is a certain people scattered and separate among the peoples throughout all the provinces of your kingdom,” Forget that they don’t mingle with your empire; they don’t even have unity amongst themselves!

“and their laws differ from [those of] every people, and they do not keep the king's laws;” They leech off of the taxes of the rest of the nation, dodge the draft, and don’t think your food is good enough for them. They don’t follow the laws of Achashveirosh--or their own king, Hashem.

“it is [therefore] of no use for the king to let them be.” You (and Hashem) gain nothing by keeping these bloodsuckers alive!

Here’s a new phrase for you; the klutz kashe. This is Yiddish terminology for a question so simple and obvious, nobody even thinks to ask it. The Lubavitcher Rebbe asked the klutz kashe.

It makes sense that out of Achashveirosh’s blinding love for Esther, he decided not to annihilate the Jewish nation. But Haman truly convinced him of the Jews’ treachery, so why didn’t the king at least take care of the tax problem, or appoint officers to enforce his laws in their neighborhoods?

The answer lies in Esther, and this is one of the reasons that the Megilla is titled in her name.

People have many misconceptions about Jews. We have big noses, horns on our heads… we’re relentless cheaters… sometimes we bake matzah with Christian blood… Thing is, stereotypes are never true, because it’s impossible to reduce a huge amount of people to a specific trait. I happen to have a big nose, but so does Lea Michele! (And Belle is a princess without blond hair and blue eyes.)

You can argue and logically explain that Jews aren’t like that, but you won’t always convince someone so steeped in the lie. The only way to prove them wrong is to pull off your hat and show them that you don’t have a horn.

During the second party, Queen Esther said to the king, "If I have found favor in your eyes, O king, and if it pleases the king, may my life be given me in my petition and my people in my request.” She was telling him, I am a Jew. Does it pay for you to keep me?

Even after Haman was hanged, Esther had to beseech the king to withdraw his decree. She pleaded, "If it please the king, and if I have found favor before him, and the matter is proper before the king, and I am good in his sight, let it be written to rescind the letters, the device of Haman the son of Hammedatha, the Agagite, which he wrote to destroy the Jews who are in all the king's provinces.”

Esther did more than just impress her husband with her beauty and party planning skills. When she revealed herself as a Jewess, she showed Achashveirosh exactly who he was planning to destroy. The false impressions that Haman had embedded in his mind wavered, and he thought, “If the Jewish nation could produce someone as refined and intelligent as Esther, they can’t be all that bad.”

So he told her, “And you-write about the Jews as you see fit, in the name of the king, and seal [it] with the king's ring, for a writ that is written in the name of the king and sealed with the king's ring cannot be rescinded."] Achashveirosh viewed the Jewish people with new eyes, unbridled by his past opinions, and now couldn’t imagine imposing so much as a tax on his wife’s nation.

This is when decrees get nullified and judgements repealed. If you’re upset about the way something is presented to the world, be it Orthodoxy, Zionism, Chabad, your family, or yourself,  the only way to break the misconception is to show the world that you are different. You can’t argue falsehoods intellectually; you have to be living these values. When others see you act in a way that refutes their preconceived notions, you change the way they view all that you represent.

Esther was a true hero because she “walked the walk”--on a path that led to victory. As my teacher preached, showing is far more effective than telling, which means you have to be the person you want others to see you as. Cliches can be busted and labels erased, but only if you’re willing to live the truth.

For truth is a language that everyone understands.

[thetorahtypist]

Tetzaveh: Rivalry or Revelry?

Clothing time!  This week, the Torah lists all of the garments worn by the Kohanim and Kohen Gadol. One of the additional four garments worn only by the Kohen Gadol was the Choshen HaMishpat, the golden breastplate. Embedded in the Choshen were the twelve gems corresponding to the twelve tribes of Israel, with their respective names engraved.

Within the Choshen was the Urim V’Tumim, a slip of parchment with G-d’s name written on it. When the Kohen Gadol consulted the Urim V’tumim on a certain matter, specific letters on the precious stones would light up, powered by the energy from G-d’s name. It was the Kohen Gadol’s job to unscramble the random letters and understand what G-d wanted of His nation.

Reward In the Talmud [Shabbos 139], Rav Simlai explains why Aharon merited to wear this magnificent piece of clothing. When G-d appeared to Moshe at the burning bush and asked Moshe to take the Jews out of Egypt, he hesitated. One of the reasons for this is that Moshe didn’t want to steal the glory from his older brother, Aharon. Yet Moshe accepted anyways, but was apprehensive about what the future would hold for their brotherhood.

His fear proved to be unfounded, because immediately after Hashem appeared to Moshe, Torah reads, “G-d said to Aharon, “Go towards Moshe in the desert.’ He went and met him at the Mountain of G-d, and kissed him” (Shemos, 4, 27). Aharon was genuinely happy about his younger brother’s success, and felt no bitterness in coming in second.

As clear as glass Because of Aharon’s pureness of heart, he merited to discern the G-dly messages that appeared through the Choshen Mishpat. In order to unscramble the letters correctly (and avoid fatal mistakes), the Kohen Gadol had to be completely transparent to G-d. If his ego and opinions got in the way, he couldn’t interpret G-d’s message. The fact that Aharon wasn’t jealous of Moshe --an almost superhuman feat--proved to Hashem that he’d be able to do the job.

Repaying kindness Moshe recognized his brother’s greatness, and decided to return the favor. This is one reason why Moshe’s name isn’t mentioned in Tetzaveh, the reason that warms me the most. While many might find this Parsha boring and repetitious, it’s actually Aharon’s time to shine, and Moshe understood that. When Moshe was chosen as leader, Aharon let him take the limelight. This week, Moshe doesn’t steal Aharon’s thunder either.

Could true love be true? In the 32nd chapter of Tanya (numerical value of “lev--heart”), the Alter Rebbe explains how we are supposed to “love thy neighbor like thyself.” Is this a possible feat if we are programmed to love ourselves more than others?

The answer is that every Jewish soul is part of the collective neshama of Bnei Yisrael. This means that on a deeper level, we are all one pulsing organism. Every action that I do is significant, because it affects this collective soul, much like a tiny cog is necessary for the success of a giant machine.

There are five parts to the Jewish soul: his Nefesh, materialism; Ruach, emotion; Neshama, intellect; Chaya, will; and Yechida. The Yechida is the part of a person that is, and always will be, connected to G-d. The Yechida is that beautiful spark that will never be tarnished by sin, because it’s not limited by personality and desires; it’s literally a piece of Hashem.

Therefore, it is possible to love your neighbor like yourself because he is you! His soul and your soul are intrinsically connected, and if you work to peel back the externalities of your dislike for the person, you can arouse the love you feel for his Jewish Neshama.

Loving vicariously Aharon Hakohen exemplified Ahavas Yisrael, and was known for “loving peace and seeking peace.” He found the Yechida in every person, the part of them that existed in himself too, and therefore loved them to no end.

He had absolutely no jealousy for his brother, Moshe, because that would imply that he judged people for the lower parts of their souls. No, Aharon was not a man of surfaces, and rejoiced over Moshe’s achievement because he felt the collective soul benefitting. He eyes saw so deeply into the Neshama that Hashem knew he’d have the clarity to understand the messages of the Choshen HaMishpat.

A lesson for us It’s not just HaKaras haTov, appreciating the good, that we learn from the two brothers, because that would mean that their relationship was on a “reward and punishment” level. Moshe and Aharon’s love ran much deeper than repaying actions. They knew that they were one and the same, and that the fortune of one was really the fortune of the other.

It’s a hard thing to internalize, especially when your best friend gets the job you’ve been dying for. Ahavas Yisrael on such a deep level seems unattainable, but it isn’t. We have to practice viewing others as extensions of our true selves, in which their joy is also ours. Can you imagine how happy we’d be if we truly loved every Jew?

When it becomes especially hard, realize that Hashem is sending you a message that you have to unscramble. Will you love till the end?

[thetorahtypist]

Unspoken Words

"If words are the pen of the heart, then song is the pen of the soul," taught Reb Shneur Zalman of Liadi, the first Chabad Rebbe.

To write poetry, to formulate sentences, you've got to bring down your thoughts, which originate from G-d's supernal intellect, and condense them into a few paragraphs. I know too well that words on paper are never quite as vast as ideas in the mind.

Music works differently. Instead of bringing Hashem down onto paper, a melody carries the neshama to a place above limitation and labels and connects it to the infinite. As Rabbi Nachman of Breslov said that, "Music originates from the prophetic spirit, and has the power to elevate one to prophetic inspiration." 

Since I'm Chabad, I've grown up hearing nigunim, melodies composed by or sung by great Rebbeim, my whole life. They were pretty, and their power was grilled into me throughout high school, but I preferred my Family Crest, Elton John and Chopin. 

On Shabbos evening, right before Havdalla, it's a Chabad minhag to sing "Seder nigunim," meaning a song from each of the Chabad Rebbeim. When we'd do this on school Shabbatons, I usually would mouth "watermelon" a million times because I didn't have much interest. And I was terribly self-conscious about my voice. (Hehe, unfortunately for my friends, I'm over that insecurity...) 

But in seminary, it clicked in my mind. There is so much more depth and purpose in a nigun--far beyond the most complex concerto, far deeper than the most moving ballad. You don't need a good voice for the intense soul connection that happens with a niggun--the melody sings for itself.