Kfar Chabad Education Conference 5764

00:00 Speaker 1 Good morning, and blessings to all the men and women taking part. I would like to speak about the mitzvah of Chanukah and mark the eighth day of lighting Chanukah candles—lighting eight candles. It seems to me there are eight candles lit on Motzaei Shabbos. [unclear] Yes, eight candles, and anyone lighting on the eighth night lights them as is customary among the Jewish people. We are used to lighting eight candles and also saying the blessings when lighting them. But the lighting should be after six hours of the day. I do not want to blur the issues here. And on the subject of distress, the question of observing Shabbos and everything surrounding it, [unclear]. Ladies and gentlemen, for those of you who are not familiar with this leniency, this is a matter of Judaism, of growth, of the future, of how to conduct ourselves, of the strength of Judaism and what we can do within it. I mentioned this earlier at a basic level, in connection with what happened to us during the war. And in a conversation with Rabbi Ben-Ari’s deputies, I came to understand [unclear]—what circumstances there need to be, what direction to take. Then it is easy to approach everything in light of the relationships involved. Tractate Pesachim, the chapter Arvei Pesachim, page 113b: Three people—excuse me—three people Hakadosh Boruch Hu hates. [unclear] When someone gets drunk, you cannot protest about some punishment. Three people Hakadosh Boruch Hu hates: one who says one thing with his mouth and another in his heart; one who knows testimony that would help his fellow and does not testify for him; and one who sees his fellow commit an indecent act and testifies against him alone. It is almost like the incident that took place: Tuvia sinned. There was someone named Tuvia, and Zigud was [unclear]. Zigud came and testified about Tuvia [unclear]. He said to Zigud, “Tuvia sinned?”

04:45 Speaker 2 “What is this—Tuvia sinned, and Zigud gets flogged?”

04:51 Speaker 1 “Rav Pappa said, ‘Tuvia sinned, and Zigud gets flogged.’”

04:56 Speaker 2 “Well, is that [unclear]?”

04:59 Speaker 1 “He said to me: Tuvia sinned, and Zigud—don’t you understand? Tuvia sinned, and Zigud is flogged because of it?”

05:06 Speaker 2 “He said to me: a man from the place.”

05:09 Speaker 1 “And that isn’t Yaakov, right? [unclear]”

05:13 Speaker 2 “No.”

05:14 Speaker 1 “Ah, so Tuvia tried to do that.”

05:18 Speaker 2 “You know it was with the boys. No, they did not pay attention to you; it was [unclear] the person who came to you.”

05:25 Speaker 1 “Only there—and then I had already decided it for them.”

05:31 Speaker 2 “Well, how much do you want there for my children?”

05:34 Speaker 1 “Shimon said: [unclear] for my children. Are you getting lashes or not?”

05:39 Speaker 2 “He said to him: Meshual ben Yareach ben Yitzchak.”

05:45 Speaker 1 “The rabbi said to him: Meshual ben Yitzchak?”

05:50 Speaker 2 “Yes.”

05:50 Speaker 1 “He said: Meshual ben Yareach ben Yitzchak.”

05:55 Speaker 2 “Well?”

05:56 Speaker 1 “He gave him a bad name, saying that it is permissible to hate him. There was a child here who was young.”

06:05 Speaker 2 “Well?”

06:07 Speaker 1 “So yes, since you saw that he was young, it is permissible to hate him.”

06:11 Speaker 2 “As it says?”

06:13 Speaker 1 “‘If you see the donkey of someone you hate lying under its load.’ There is an understanding here—I don’t know if this... You see someone lying under... a donkey that is being led. A person sees a donkey, a four-legged donkey, lying under its load. And that donkey belongs to someone you hate. The Torah tells you: ‘If you see the donkey of someone you hate lying under its load.’ The Gemara asks: Someone you hate? What sort of Torah is that? It changes the whole way we understand every word of Torah as halachah. How can the Torah state a halachah about the donkey of someone you hate? What sort of person you hate? Who? Tell me. So the question was raised: Can one hate everyone? One must not hate anyone. The Gemara answers that it is speaking about someone whom it is permissible for a Jew to hate, not someone else. And that is where this entire matter of being permitted to hate appears. Rather, obviously, it means a Jew whom one hates. It is not speaking about some non-Jew [unclear]. It is said in the name of Rav that one may hate him. And it is about this man that the Torah says, ‘If you see the donkey of someone you hate’—this man whom you hate. So the other person hates him less. The Gemara asks: [unclear] how can it be permissible to hate a Jew? And he answered [unclear]. And the Torah says to do good. Rather, [unclear]. So either [unclear] or he is your equal. He did not [unclear] around him. They simply did not want him. So he was already there, there, there. There were perhaps five or six like that, [unclear]. But there were others too. It began with problems at the level of recognition. They knew that this song was not [unclear]. He could not raise his hands above everyone. He also has the good that you do not have. So this is a mitzvah [unclear]. After all, it is written, perhaps

09:17 Speaker 1 that, say, you have no idea what a situation of drowning would be like. The history of the entire spread of [unclear]. And I hold that [unclear]. That is not it. What is “Rav Melech”? Two thousand one hundred and sixty-two. What is interesting here is hard to tell you—nineteen. Those are its advantages. That is what they said. What do you mean, no? It is hard to tell you how much. Some kinds of [unclear], or techniques, or—it is hard to say. It is very hard to tell you this. That is how it is in... But in... But here there are two. Again, not a kohen. That is, according to [unclear], there is no [unclear]. And judge each and every person. How do you say it? It is tasty that way too, so to speak. But here we have to strike a balance between one person he loves and one he hates. The Torah comes at the end and tells you: The mitzvah is to help the one you hate, in order to subdue your yetzer. It is a mitzvah. But someone who comes closer [unclear] the person he hates, and distances himself in order to overcome the yetzer hara around him. Why? Because the yetzer belongs in its own place, and that is the problem. The yetzer tov—but the heart is inclined to love the statute and the law, and when there is a mitzvah, one performs the mitzvah. Why do you call that the yetzer? The Torah says there is a yetzer hara here. You have to give up the matter of [unclear] and get involved solely because you are subduing the yetzer. Tosafos says: Since he hates him, he hates the true judgment. True, but a Jew feels when someone hates him. His teacher hates him, and someone else hates him too. Even according to the law, he senses that you hate him. So you must not hate. He senses it; it is instinct. Tosafos goes on to say: ‘As water reflects a face back to a face, so one person’s heart reflects another’s.’ He says that when you look into water, what you see when you lift your eyes is reflected there. No, no, no. Here too, he senses it.

11:59 Speaker 1 You hate him, but you must not stop there. You happen to give him a hand, and he senses that you hate him. And what are you bringing to the doctor? It should not be a matter of instinct. He deprives you of joy, and you take on a burden of joy. What are you listening to? [unclear] a burden of joy. So now Hakadosh Boruch Hu supports him because of the mitzvah [unclear] that the Torah stated at the Giving of the Torah. That same principle by which you began to send him [unclear] joy and accept that burden—he [unclear] your joy. That is the reason: ‘As water reflects a face back to a face, so one person’s heart reflects another’s.’ Hakadosh Boruch Hu tells you here that this is about overcoming the yetzer. [unclear] Where is the mitzvah? Where is the yetzer hara? Because [unclear], as we said earlier—we are applying it again. Now [unclear] here; it is weighed against the mitzvah here. And so too, may Hakadosh Boruch Hu have love and compassion for us and for His world. And when we deal with a child [unclear], because he has [unclear] from his parents’ home, he will not gain a passport; he will not be a child in [unclear]. We need to educate him, and we must educate him. You can educate him with love. When [unclear] in his mitzvos alone, they told the Jewish people that the way to carry forward the teachers of the Jewish people is only through the love of a student for his teacher, and of his teacher. And so, ladies and gentlemen, time is short. There is also a section of the adult public up to the age of thirty-eight. Many mitzvos also [unclear] a man’s inclination, an inclination to draw close to his mother—that is how it will be. They say [unclear]. A shliach of the son brought me [unclear], a law and a judge. That is it. I also know that [unclear] Jerusalem, the first reading, was sent at the end of Chanukah, and another, second part was also sent at the end of Chanukah. We see at the end of

14:35 Speaker 1 Chanukah—or, more precisely, on the night between Chanukah and the following day—we heard words of blessing, a very good and beautiful blessing that I received. And once Chanukah was successful, there is room for Hakadosh Boruch Hu as well, and for those places where, boruch Hashem, He is present. Every day gets easier.

15:01 Speaker 9 That is not the problem here; it is the home. We have that. The hand. A conversation with the boss. I know. What is it? It is something you do. It is as though doing something good does not seem worthwhile to me. Simply [unclear]. You know you need to do something, to see how it is connected. If he comes to court, if you have something you want to check.

18:17 Speaker 10 Of a five-year-old child with a soul [unclear]. He went and asked for [unclear] that awakens the soul [unclear]. So he simply asked [unclear]. Yitzchak studied [unclear]; it was good. He read a book. But Yitzchak had [unclear]. Years ago, Yitzchak dealt with several complications there concerning the nature of [unclear], and he knew that the family who owned a plot of land there needed [unclear]. So he worked through several complications. [unclear] do what [unclear]. [unclear] would do it with [unclear], instead of [unclear] being in place. But this child was only a case involving a plot of land [unclear]. So he put it on the dock. He had a feeling that it was small. I’ll tell you about this case. I had a few things to say about the weeks he spent [unclear], about [unclear], who read and read more than we had expected. And even when [unclear] ended, normal life—sitting together with the Jewish people, all of us sitting together—not like [unclear]. This is not just talk. [unclear] the holy Name in every generation, but among most Jews, [unclear] found a good, pure woman and a pure family. [unclear] until he found a rope for his neck, hanged himself, and was buried in the Jewish cemetery. [unclear]

24:15 Speaker 11 New York. This isn’t [unclear] doctors, where we have nothing to do, where it’s either one or the other, either coming here or going there. Thank G-d, there was a little time, and I received an answer from the Rebbe, quite a long answer, in which [unclear] appears. I didn’t prepare it; I don’t want to speak about things like that. [unclear] the principles and how the principles should be applied, and the Rebbe brings it over to matters of education. Actual education. How one should relate to [unclear] and respect. That is something else entirely. Education gives a child certain things already at that stage. So I assumed that education probably applies to all ages, and that the Rebbe would maintain that position. I actually wrote that we needed to sit down [unclear], and [unclear] very much what I wanted, but I did not merit it. I received an answer around [unclear]. Anyone interested can find it in [unclear] Shabbos Kodesh. The Rebbe says [unclear] Rosh Hashanah, [unclear] Chanukah [unclear] education. [unclear] Chanukah [unclear], the Rebbe says. [unclear] Shabbos Kodesh, this Chanukah, the conclusion and completion of Chanukah. Each and every Jew must make good resolutions, especially regarding education, and [unclear] to add and do more, with greater strength, in the education of sons and daughters. [unclear] education itself with the utmost care and completeness. Chabad chassidim [unclear] this Shabbos as a Shabbos of education. Anash could make good resolutions for themselves concerning education. Through the power of those resolutions, [unclear] grew closer, and enthusiasm for putting them into practice increased. We hope and [unclear] that this very evening we will celebrate our Chanukah, [unclear] with the revelation of our Rebbe, King Moshiach, [unclear]. Chabad chassidim expressed [unclear], remembering [unclear] this Shabbos of education and also the month in which [unclear] this special evening of education. [unclear] Yechi Adoneinu Moreinu Verabeinu Melech HaMoshiach Le’olam Va’ed.

27:01 Speaker 11 Alive and enduring. 5715. I remember, in the yeshiva on Sheinkin, Meidanchik, the locomotive driver behind the train—it was on a Shabbos for children. And he asks someone, “Have you seen the locomotive’s steering wheel?” No, but he was sure. He says to him, “You’re a fool. A locomotive [unclear]. There are tracks, there is a railway line, and there is a switch that directs it. Set it to the right, and it goes to Be’er Sheva. But if you move that switch a few millimeters so it sits to the left, it goes to Jerusalem. And the train has already started traveling toward Be’er Sheva, and Be’er Sheva and all that.” He answers, “Be’er Sheva.” What does that mean? No, the locomotive [unclear]—it’s Jerusalem, it’s [unclear]. It’s a tiny shift from its position, almost imperceptible; no one involved would feel it. But someone who knows what a fine adjustment it is knows that the switch goes a little this way toward Jerusalem, a little that way toward Be’er Sheva. [unclear] They could, G-d forbid, go off the tracks. And that was also very important to me in Be’er Sheva, and to all these people: the first impressions, that the driver should guide not only his own train but the train of all of us, and that it should get onto the right track, with everything in order and with blessing. And [unclear], what next? Rabbi Ashkenazi, what next? It’s simply worth saying. What is the red? What is Edom? What [unclear]? All four. So there are four: alef, beis, gimmel, daled. What comes next is what comes next, [unclear] of the Torah. And so, that is what we saw. Let’s hear words of blessing from one speaker to the next. Thank you very much, Rabbi Ashkenazi. Please. My memory does not [unclear]. So, primarily, the Rebbe also lit Chanukah candles at night, when [unclear] the Chanukah candles, and one of those occasions was a week earlier. He

30:40 Speaker 11 said that it was [unclear] for an hour. He lit all eight candles. So today’s gathering is a continuation of Chanukah, and [unclear] Chanukah, we have dedicated [unclear]. I’m speaking about what is said in the holy sichos, about the particular strength of a day of Chanukah. And so I share [unclear] of the sicha, and our sicha as well, in this manner, in connection with matters of education. The honorable Rabbi—Rabbi Green already mentioned 1957 here, [unclear]. Twenty-nine years ago, when I was appointed rabbi here in Kfar Chabad, it was at the height of Rabbi Kahn’s attack on Rabbi Goren, who had received [unclear]. The rosh yeshiva, Rabbi Halevi, had already been involved in the matter before that, and at the time I needed [unclear]. I didn’t know whether to accept it or not, in order to arrange things in a normal way. So I asked the Rebbe. [unclear] But even so, there was a little time. He gave me an answer: “Go out with the elders of the village.” That was the special answer he gave me: “Go out with the elders of the village.” I added seven elders, and [unclear]. Six [unclear], one [unclear]. I went to Rabbi [unclear] and studied the laws of family purity with him, and somehow I formed a good relationship with him. Most importantly, he liked me. He knew something. We wrote a book called [unclear], but afterward it was forgotten. In any event, at first he began studying with me. He was not proficient in [unclear]; he was proficient in the Talmud. He joked about it. Incidentally, he joked about one verse: “As water reflects a face back to a face.” I remember wondering: Is there a verse in the Talmud, something like “As water reflects a face back to a face”? I came to the discussion in Rashi and said to him, “There’s a verse in the Talmud.” He said to me, “A verse in the Talmud—

33:01 Speaker 11 at the end of Yevamos.” There Rashi writes about five women. When a woman’s husband is missing, she may remarry on the testimony of a single witness, [unclear]. Even the testimony of a non-Jew [unclear]. In any event, there are five women whose testimony that her husband was killed is not accepted. One of them is her mother-in-law. Her testimony is not accepted. Why? Because she hates the woman, her daughter-in-law. So if she testified that he was killed, [unclear] the daughter-in-law [unclear]. Rashi says that the verse says [unclear]. The point is that the mother-in-law hates the daughter-in-law, and the daughter-in-law hates her too: “As water reflects a face back to a face.” It is a verse about both sides. Rashi addressed the very point you raised. What I wanted to say about it is this: all the quarrelling you see between them, this hatred that the rabbi mentioned, can also lead to a bond, as the Rambam demonstrated. One of his basic principles is that, as he says in Tanya, there is no such thing as absolute hatred. [unclear] To hate Moshe Rabbeinu is no simple matter. [unclear] First one would generally have to [unclear] the character traits, and only then hate him. There is no such thing. It does not exist. Even [unclear] in Ezra. [unclear] He says that regarding the mitzvah of hatred, this is not hatred in the usual sense at all, because it is hatred that comes out of love. Since I love him, the nature of the hatred is different. And the same thing, I said, is a fundamental principle: [unclear] because it was born of something good. And there was also a Litvak there. [unclear] Rabbi [unclear], Rabbi [unclear]—he was very, very observant. He was

35:39 Speaker 11 He lived in Jerusalem, on... I’ve forgotten the name of the street now. [unclear], what? The street. The influences were very strong from [unclear], who believed that [unclear] until there would be truth in it. They asked him how much [unclear], and he said [unclear]. [unclear] wants [unclear] until people will want [unclear]. They ask him what the connection is, and he says [unclear]. He sees [unclear] of the non-Jew who hates Jews. He looks and sees [unclear]. There has to be hatred first, as it says in Tanya. But that hatred, when you see all this, is hatred that comes together with love. How does that happen? How? How do the two come together? In other words, when you narrow down the reasons, this is [unclear] in the Rebbe’s sichos: you see the good in every child, every soul, every adult and child—their good qualities, their soul, their place. Then your whole way of looking at them is different, and your compassion is different too. But when you look at a child and see things simply, and someone feels that he is very, very doubtful or just idle, that can reinforce it entirely. It depends on how much he invests in this too, how much he feels the connection with [unclear], which he keeps bringing out both [unclear] and in an inner way. “The left hand should always push away, and the right hand draw close”—not like Elisha, who pushed Gehazi away with both hands. The Rebbe explains that there are several points to be precise about here. It is not just that, when it says he pushed him away with both hands, it

38:05 Speaker 11 means he rejected him completely. Even when drawing someone close, it has to be “the left hand pushes away and the right hand draws close”—both things together. In such a case, all the more so, the distancing has to be with the left hand and the drawing close with the right. That is, we said these are two things that go together, but drawing close has to be stronger than pushing away. After all, we do not say that the right hand pushes away and the left draws close. Generally, the right hand is the stronger hand. So even if you have to push him away, that push has to be measured by the left hand, while drawing him close has to be [unclear]. It is a little like what you do with [unclear]—the two things together. So now we learn something: the fact that [unclear] looks bad, but the process must ultimately lead to drawing close. If [unclear] looks like just one way of [unclear], then it will not necessarily improve. If he knows why I am keeping my distance from him now—that it is because I have compassion for him, and at the moment I cannot draw close to him because he is not on the right path—but if he comes back, then my love for him will be there in every detail and every... And as Mordechai said, if he goes to the mikveh, then I really will go to the mikveh. What is more, Mordechai mentioned a sicha, [unclear], asking why we do not recite a blessing before giving tzedakah. [unclear] A Jew comes and gives someone tzedakah. What sort of connection with the world is there in giving tzedakah? Why is there no blessing for tzedakah? Chassidim say [unclear]: if a chossid needs to recite a blessing, can he just recite a blessing? He

40:15 Speaker 11 first has to go to the mikveh, and before he gives the tzedakah—or recites the blessing—he has to put effort into it. Where is the chassidic process in Yiddishkeit? [unclear] the blessing, the mikveh, and really everything. The main thing is to help people in need of compassion. Put your effort into saving Jews. That is the main thing in Yiddishkeit. It changes the entire world. So, in any event, the... the distancing, even when it is necessary, has to be on the outside; inside there must be love and closeness. Then its intentions are the very best. But in practice, that is the main point. This connects to a well-known lesson of the Tzemach Tzedek. In this lesson that I am reading in [unclear], there are very, very interesting things. Usually, going and teaching Torah to those who are distant is connected with the ideal of Torah study. Sometimes there is a halachic point there. He begins with [unclear] and explains only half the law, without continuing to the second law. He says, “[unclear].” There is the approach. The Mishnah says that an unmarried man should not teach children, nor should [unclear]. Why? Because the mothers bring the children to school. If he is unmarried, then he cannot [unclear]. The Gemara discusses two laws, and they are also here in the Mishnah in Kiddushin: an unmarried man should not teach children, and a woman should not teach children either. Why? For the same reason: fathers and mothers come to the school. So, first, there is the issue of the teacher when she teaches them. The first law concerns the fathers: since the fathers come, there is concern about contact between the fathers and the woman teaching. And there is the law that an unmarried man should not teach children. The second law is that a woman should not teach children. That is the wording of the Mishnah. It seems that all these laws are recorded [unclear]. Because if this is the second point in this Mishnah, then

42:58 Speaker 11 we have [unclear] the underlying connection between boys and women. And this law is [unclear] the wording of the second law. Here is what Rabbi Eliezer wanted to say. There are two things: a woman should not teach children. So it does not necessarily apply to all the Mishnayos that say a woman should not teach children. But our children, when our children reach a certain age, [unclear]. When you bring the sources in order, you see something remarkable here—something that bears on the precise halachah. Now, the Gemara’s meaning, in the Gemara that comes later in the chapter, is [unclear]: women have the merit of bringing the children to school. A woman is exempt from the mitzvah of teaching Torah. Who is obligated to teach Torah? Only the father; the mother has no obligation at all. Nevertheless, because women go and bring the children to school, that is their merit. [unclear] But their reward is great for bringing their children to school. When we learned this Mishnah, we learned the Mishnah in Kiddushin: an unmarried man should not teach children. Why? Because the mothers bring the children to school. Ask yourself a question—and this happens often; it is a common question. There is a teacher who is twenty, [unclear]. There is a young man who has already [unclear]. He learns well, carries the children on his shoulders, and works hard too. But then you have a proud father. As the Mishnah says, an unmarried man should not teach; an unmarried man should not teach children. And so something comes up in our lives, and someone goes to the rabbi with a question. We ask him: “Rabbi, we have two children. One learns well, but he has not found his match. We have a son who teaches, who is twenty and has children, but he has no...”

45:10 Speaker 11 He has none at all, none at all. He is already in a different situation. So they bring it to the rabbi. Rabbi, do you have an answer? When a child is studying at age twenty, he lives among children but knows nothing. What does “academic” mean? No, an unmarried man who won’t study. What? Let’s do something else. Let’s tell the mothers: stay at home, be with the children, and let the child do well. After all, there is another option: he studies Torah; he studies. That is the alternative solution. You come to the rabbi and arrange for the mothers to take the children to school. Why? The main thing is the learning. What matters is the importance of the learning, the result. Listen, what difference does it make if the girl was taught Torah? Wonderful, it’s a virtue. Let them learn Hebrew well, learn Tanach well, learn the verse well—its explanation in Rashi, and so on. The child comes home on Friday, and we will have gained nothing. The main thing is that his mother takes him to school. But that’s excellent; there’s no need to change it. No one would argue. That’s how it should be. Is the mother responsible for Torah study? How would they put it—teaching a daughter or a son Mishnah? This is a positive commandment, an absolute positive commandment: the father is commanded to send him to school, while for the mother it is only a custom, for mothers to accompany their children to school. That is their privilege. But let’s be precise. Is it, then, a positive commandment from the Torah? No, let me tell you. Why should that change anything? Rather, what does it mean? We have a question before us: what is the point of mothers taking their children to school? Why do they take the children to school? Because the mother has the time to take the child to school, give him a kiss, pick him up from school, and then see him again more or

47:23 Speaker 11 less the next day. She accompanies him [unclear] and gives the child a kiss as he enters the teacher’s classroom. She seats him, gives him a kiss, gives him warmth, makes him feel good, and settles him in his chair. That is the good way. There are other approaches—some are strict, some are dry. There are communities that are [unclear], but in any event, the way is [unclear]. The way is to take him by the hand with a warm kiss. Our Sages came and said, and established, that the warmth a child receives when he is taken to school—the warmth his mother gives him as she takes him—is more important to us for the child than better teaching. Why? So he asks me: “What if you could teach the child in a higher class, where things would be better for him, more practical?” But give up his mother’s warmth for that? We will never give that up. Why? Because that warmth, that human connection, that feeling—that is what will set him on his feet. He builds his world on considerations of love. So this is very powerful. Think about just how far it goes. When we are talking about a child, we are talking about two things. If one could fulfill [unclear], if you studied in a particular school—the Rambam says [unclear]—you understand. When the question is whether a mother should accompany him to school, what exactly is at stake? We have already learned that. Wait—the clear question is whether his mother will be there or not. Because if we did not bring into our beis midrash the love, the connection, the good teaching the child receives from his mother, then we would simply

49:32 Speaker 12 …

49:33 Speaker 11 You’re talking about love of yeshivos. He could receive that much better. Blows can break a connection; a quarrel can break a connection. But a warm bond, a warm personal bond—that is something we hold on to tightly. They said that this is the second thing. And even on a deeper level, in the matter of [unclear], one must take a certain need into account. But what need does she see in the child when she picks him up from school? No. So parents—the love. Another very important component. Forgive me for all this. The parents’ approach to the child, instilling love in him from childhood, love for the child, his love for himself, the emotional bond that comes from love and care—that stays with the child. Just as he absorbs his mother’s love, he absorbs his father’s love at home, Chassidus, and Yiddishkeit. The emotional bond: a home is a home of the parents, of Rabbi [unclear], of Rabbi [unclear]. As they teach him, they give him all the tools needed to raise a child. That must be part of the home. Once it enters the intellect, he can carry it with him. There are two things. There are things here, and there are things there. There are ideas, opinions, principles—what the tzaddikim hold, what the Rebbes hold. These are things that have no connection, no connection. After all, there are many things for which I think we lack the tools we need. We do have tools: wood, posts, things. Sometimes there is something a little better, something different. With better tools, we can have much more influence. But still, today, I think we do not have good enough tools. I think we need to—I think we need to aspire to do much more. And now, on this day of Chanukah, the miracle that followed all the days of Chanukah, [unclear] in the Beis Hamikdash. Listen, something interesting happens on Chanukah…

52:43 Speaker 11 There are substances that mix: oil, wine, water. The miracle of the jug of oil happened specifically with oil. We do not find a miracle of wine [unclear]. Oil and wine each have their own character; they do not fit into every vessel [unclear]. But water—water did [unclear]. Yet we do not find that oil and water combine. Does oil mix? Does wine mix? No, no, we have not found that. It was specifically with oil that we found [unclear]. In the days of Chanukah, we found a miracle of oil. All the miracles centered on oil—everything revolved around oil. What is the point of this? Why was oil, specifically, granted this by Hakadosh Boruch Hu? What does He want from us through oil? This comes to show us that it was specifically through oil that we saw this Chanukah miracle for the Jewish people. Apparently, as I suggested in connection with one of the Rebbe’s sichos, the essential thing is emunah. When a Jew goes with emunah, with faith in the Torah, he has everything [unclear]. We see it today in our generation, as our teachers of Torah teach us. Jews who continue with Jewish emunah, with faith in the Torah—that is the miracle; that is the essence of Hashem’s power in the world. They live today with success, with Hashem’s help. May Hashem help us. Now, whoever has come to read the verse here can begin. In any case, [unclear], the miracle of Chanukah, the miracle of Hashem’s power, the Chanukah lights—may Hashem help us. And may we merit to see the Geulah, with Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai and Moshiach ben David, speedily in our days, amen.

55:17 Speaker 13 Yasher koach to the honored Rabbi. In your view, all the festivals will cease, but “these days of Purim shall never pass away.” Ancient holy writings of ours say that Chanukah and Purim, too, endure forever, because they are bound up with the secret of the number eight, above nature. In one of the sichos, when I met with Rabbi [unclear],

55:46 Speaker 11 At some point it will be

55:49 Speaker 13 He had a very close connection with the Rebbe and with the guidance of the Rebbe of [unclear]. I once spoke about Purim in connection with the half-shekel: in the word machatzis, the tzaddik—the letter tzaddik—is in the middle, and the letters ches and yud on either side spell chai, “life.” But one cannot stop with just the tzaddik and the Jew. One must also account for the mem and the tav. That is the atonement for the sin of the Golden Calf. Everyone should remember: not only the tzaddik, not only the Jew, but each person must give the half-shekel [unclear]. That is the atonement, so that such a disaster as the Golden Calf will not happen again. But without that, what then? I mean, what then? Take evil—what is evil? So the honored Rabbi said to continue. He says that at the end of forty years, there is progress. For forty years they had spread through the generation [unclear]. One year, they told him, a disaster appeared and spread [unclear], and Pinchas, son of Elazar, son of Aharon the Kohen, came with unmistakable zeal and “turned My wrath away from the Children of Israel.” And how is My wrath aroused? Put the mem and tav at the edges, and they catch fire and burn like thorns. The whole problem of division lies at the edges. This edge, that edge—they are the edges. One hand here, one hand there. If we do not attend to the edges, the fire will catch quickly. The fire spreads and finds thorns. “Thorns,” he says,

57:40 Speaker 14 means sins.

57:42 Speaker 13 We need to turn “my wrath” into something else. Take the mem and the tav, take a Jew, and attach them to “chai” on the outside. You attach them—and “you who cleave to Hashem your G-d are all alive today.” “And he will turn the hearts of fathers toward their children.” Rashi says: “Your children” means your students. Why does Rashi need to go beyond the plain meaning of the verse? “And you shall teach them diligently to your children”—teach your own children. But Rashi brings one proof, and then another, that “your children” means your students, and the teacher is the father. In other words, what is wrong with the straightforward reading? Rashi explains the plain meaning of Scripture. In the Rebbe’s approach, a five-year-old learning Chumash studies “And you shall teach them diligently to your children” with his teacher. A grown person has to teach someone else. It does not say “your son,” singular. If it said “your son,” would you have to wait another three years? It says “your children.” So, in the Rebbe’s words, is he not a Jew unless he teaches someone else, until he has at least two sons? That cannot be. Rashi says: You are right—“your children” means your students. And as the Rebbe said in many talks, when do you know enough Torah to teach a child? When you know just something? You have learned only one short verse. As soon as a child knows how to speak, his father teaches him Torah. What does he teach him? “Moshe commanded us the Torah.” If you know one word—“Torah”—do not keep Torah to yourself. If you have learned Torah, that is a lot. It is much, much, much more than you think. The request is: Do not keep Torah to yourself. “I’m fine, my wife is fine, my family is fine, and [unclear].” If you have learned Torah, that is a lot; do not keep it to yourself. Teach someone else, and do not drag it out. “And you shall teach them diligently”—these are fundamental and, according to this, novel words of Torah. Fortunate is the Jewish people, and we are also mindful of the time. But it is worth mentioning an experienced educator, Rabbi [unclear]. How did we leave Egypt? The Rebbe went out to work in education, and anyone who has even a moment should read what he said to him. So what

1:00:17 Speaker 13 did Reb Schreiber[?] Rock do? He told him: “With abilities like yours, you should not be a teacher.” It is written in connection with the blessing; if the conditions are not right, all right. So he tells him: “You must act according to the law, according to halachah, and according to what you promised. A word is a word. If you promised that [unclear] would provide them with shelter, then even the [unclear] behind the cupboard must be there, because otherwise the wind will [unclear] at once. So do not do it immediately; do everything you can.” So what have you done? You have already taken the first step. Did you build a cupboard, or did you build a child? When you are an educator and you give your soul, you give your warmth—and what are you giving? Not only a father’s warmth, but a mother’s warmth too, so that the child feels love and closeness as a force in education. And we have the privilege of welcoming Rabbi Gez[?], who has earned that privilege through what he has given to children. In Moscow, quite literally, he taught his own son, and he has been teaching children for almost fifty years now. What more could we ask for? So let us hear from Rabbi Gez[?] about a child and the state of education. He was among the first, or something like that—perhaps from the early years in Italy, certainly in the time of the Alter Rebbe, the Rebbe’s Rebbe’s Rebbe. Rabbi Gez[?], please.

1:02:11 Speaker 15 Honored Rabbi Shtrenzelg[?]. Shleizeng[?], and [unclear]—today’s Hebrew, I do not really even know it. Education. “I remember for you the kindness of your youth.” What does that mean—“I remember for you”? There is an explanation in the name of a rabbi: What does “I remember for you the kindness of your youth” mean? “The days when Moshe Rabbeinu was alive”—and the verse “I remember for you the kindness of your youth” was said after Moshe Rabbeinu’s lifetime. [unclear]. Education must be carried out with the same strength, the same enthusiasm, the same sincerity. The days when Moshe Rabbeinu was alive—that must continue throughout life, even after Moshe Rabbeinu’s lifetime. We receive twenty-four [unclear] of life, and so on. But some of [unclear]. With what enthusiasm, with what love, with what feeling we held the books in our hands and raised them the first time, the second time. We want everyone, all our descendants who look at us—well, that is a memory. We remembered. Today, when we take the children, is it with the same enthusiasm, the same feeling, the same joy as the first time? What is a Chabad education? Who remembers? In 5770, in 5771, [unclear], I was somewhat involved in it, watching a little. There was a man devoted to education, its leader, Rabbi Chanina[?], z"l. If anyone lived through those days of struggle and could be called a man of education, it was Rabbi Chanina[?]. Apart from all his other qualities—remember all these things—he would spend whole nights on the phone with educators and teachers, explaining and guiding them in how to educate. Really, what is a Chabad education? What is a Chabad education today? We need not only to educate, but to place the necessary emphasis on Chassidus. One small thing: Once I was in Los Angeles, fifty years ago. I was davening, and Rabbi Chanukah[?] was there near me. The verse after Tachanun says, “My help comes from Hashem.” Well, I said,

1:06:53 Speaker 15 I was not so far wrong. Certainly, I said “my help” in a muddled way. Someone looked in the siddur, and it says “my help.” So how am I a Chabad chossid? I remember a Chassidic rabbi, Kein Flap[?]. He would sometimes repeat every single word five times, ten times. Why? Because he was not quite sure he had pronounced it correctly. Today, here we are sitting together, and I hope what I say today will not be something that needs to go outside. Certainly not. But this does not concern only us; it concerns every group. The thought that there are children who are not receiving a proper education—and you see it in the stories: the son of this chossid, the son of that great Torah scholar, is doing this and doing that. These are stories it would be better not to have to hear, but reality is reality today. What is wrong? What are they missing? In one word, very briefly: Why did I bring the story of Rabbi Chananya[?]? Today, heads of yeshivos, teachers, parents—they speak about the biggest, most important things, great things. The small things are somewhat forgotten. Look in the siddur. And do not just look in the siddur: you are in shul. There are [unclear] blessings and Kaddish. Are you merely listening? Or are you sitting [unclear] most of the time? Small things like these, the fine points. Daven every word, pronounce every word. It is a shame. That is how I learned it. I do not know—perhaps we were mistaken—but I learned it from what we can all be certain of: in a Chassidic shul, chassidim understood this kind of education. They did not only tell others to act that way; they acted that way themselves. When they were in shul, sitting with the congregation during the repetition of the Shemoneh Esrei, they would

1:11:02 Speaker 15 do it. When the time for davening was running out and they were in a hurry to leave for work, they still did it. They did not look at the clock; they paid attention to the minyan and [unclear]. If there is this kind of education, education that pays attention to every small thing, however small, that is education in the home. I had the privilege several times of taking the Rebbe to his home, to [unclear]. He often opened the door. Do not tell anyone; it is a tradition. In any case, the Rebbe said, “Thank you, Adam.” Never, never was anything missing. Before we started Gan Yisroel, I was at Camp Agudah. There was Rabbi [unclear], and we would go out [unclear]. Never mind. There was someone there, the head counselor. He was nominally one of us, but his way of thinking was like ours. He lived in the same building as the Rebbe, the President. Before they built the President building, the hotel building, the Rebbe lived on the fourth floor of the President building in New York. And he lived on the eighth floor—I do not remember exactly. When we worked together, I was already a Chabad chossid. He said to me, “What is it? I am a chossid too. I do not have this feeling that he is the Rebbe. Look, look, this is good.” What had happened? He told me, “Many times I come out through the downstairs door, the public door—the entrance. He is going out, he is coming in. The Rebbe comes and goes [unclear]. Never once would [unclear] have dared [unclear] the Rebbe, whether he was leaving or entering.” It is that simple. And that is the education we received. That is what is called a Chabad education: an education that pays attention to every small thing. An education in which you do not just tell a child what to do; you simply do it yourself, as Rabbi Ashkenazi said, [unclear]. That is the education with which you succeed in raising a child. And as I see many people here, I think there are grandfathers here too—zaydes. You can

1:14:53 Speaker 15 To think that it’s a little late—that it’s too late, that you can no longer educate them. She has grandchildren here, too. It’s never too late. There’s also a solution to the problem Rabbi Ashkenazi raised, about [unclear] in front of children. A simple solution: hide. Then the problem is taken care of. Another point. I’m not allowed to go over my time, but perhaps I’ll even manage to finish early. Education at Chanukah time. What is Chanukah all about? The whole story of the Chanukah miracles is miracles—wondrous miracles, beyond belief. But today, education has to be in the spirit of Chanukah. Today we have a very big problem. Children, including children from our own community, see what is happening in the world. Who doesn’t have a child who uses a computer? Perhaps there are still some here who go in the other direction, but still. For a child sitting at a computer, everything proceeds logically, step by step. Where does he encounter something beyond that? How can he understand it? He can’t just press any button. He has to go from the first button to the second, to the third, and keep going until he finishes what he’s doing. Today, education cannot succeed if we simply say, “This is the way you have to do it.” The Rebbe’s story about [unclear] is absolutely true, but we also have to think a little. We don’t ask why about the words of our holy Rebbes in matters of holiness, but in ordinary matters, give plenty of explanations. I don’t mean to cast doubt here; this is a practical matter. We live in Italy. We know that the root of the kelipah is there. The source of it all is

1:19:03 Speaker 15 there. In a country where, officially, ninety percent are called Christians. Christians at the highest level—or, as [unclear] says, “a little less than that.” Experience shows that ever since ordinary schools, where everyone had to study, were established, the more science developed, the more their religion grew. Why? Simple. They have nothing to explain. They have nothing to explain. But for us, the moment a child needs an explanation, that is our problem today. Young people don’t go through life with their eyes closed. Their eyes are open. And, because of our many sins, they see and see and see things we don’t want them to see—but they do see them. They understand them; they learn about them. That is what we have to fight. How do we fight it? Precisely with fire against fire. When there’s a great fire and a forest is burning, how do you fight it? You light an even bigger fire. Everyone needs to have explanations—not slogans or mere quotations. I mean that every single thing has to be explained. Why do we have to perform this mitzvah? Why do we have to beautify a mitzvah? Why, why, why? We are obligated to have an answer ready for that “why.” We cannot just say, “Do it now; we will do and not ask questions.” Teachers, those who work in education, teachers and heads of yeshivos and so on, know what it’s like when a student asks a question and the teacher has no answer. How can that be? Can it be that a rosh yeshivah is not prepared to answer questions? Sometimes you have to say, “I’ll give you an answer, because that really is a very, very good question.” That can happen; sometimes a question is difficult. But if a child comes to his father every day and starts asking about this and that, those questions are being asked. Excuse me—if they aren’t asking, what’s the problem? Why

1:22:54 Speaker 15 aren’t they asking? “A bashful person cannot learn.” Perhaps he simply doesn’t ask because he feels his father can’t give him an answer. My father was a great Torah scholar, and I didn’t ask him questions. Why? Simply because I didn’t want to embarrass him. I knew he could answer me, so why did I need to ask? But when someone presents himself as a know-it-all, as though he’s an expert in everything, and his son asks him—here the son is asking not only what, but why. That “why” changes everything. Not just what, but why? Are we ready? Can we say we’re ready to answer every question that comes our way—not just with any answer, but with a satisfying answer, so that the child can overcome his question and become even stronger in the mitzvah he asked about? There’s one more point I want to emphasize tonight. I have a friend, Dr. Tzvi Prestov [unclear], the grandson of Rabbi Tzvi Prestov [unclear], the founder of [unclear] in Jerusalem. He founded a yeshivah in Bnei Brak, the Prestov [unclear] yeshivah. He is no ordinary grandson. He is truly an educator. About a year ago he came to me and said, “I founded a new institution. I’m in debt. People from [unclear] in Bnei Brak came to me,” he told me, “about a child who wanders the streets. What should I do? Help me! Save the children!” What did he do? He bought or rented—I don’t remember exactly—a house up north and sent two teachers there to teach those children. They would go there and study for half a day, study for a few more hours, and spend the other hours, as people once did, milking cows and sheep and doing all kinds of other work. [Unclear.] If they see a child who isn’t suited to become a great

1:27:12 Speaker 15 Torah scholar, who isn’t suited for it, they shout at him and say, “No, you’re worth nothing.” Now, we know that the Rebbe made full use of every person’s abilities. I remember Reb Hendel Lieberman, z”l, the painter. When he came to the United States, he had nothing to do. But he knew how to paint. [Unclear.] But his ability was encouraged. There, no one knew him. Everyone knew him, but when he told us the story, he said, “When I went in, I didn’t know how—how—how to ask it.” What was the answer? [Unclear.] Yes, precisely to make use of a person’s abilities, of the talents that

1:28:42 Speaker 3 …

1:28:46 Speaker 15 We have to take the talents of every child and direct them toward whatever they excel at, whatever ability and aptitude they have. There’s a sport called boxing. When one person lands a real punch, if the other stands still, he takes the blow. But if he moves backward, he doesn’t take the full force of it. That is also a principle of physics. When something is stationary and you need to get it moving, you need a lot of force. Anyone with a car knows there’s first gear, second gear and third gear. Once it’s moving, that’s the main thing. If you see that a child has a talent for something and is drawn to it, you have to harness that for holiness. [Unclear.] But we must go further, too: Chabad wants us to be an example even to secular Jews. I’m using the common expression: “A chossid? A shoemaker or a tailor can’t be a chossid,” and things like that. A businessman, too, can be a chossid, live as a chossid and conduct his business. That’s the education he received. That is what the original Chabad education was called. Each of the Chabad Rebbes placed emphasis on a particular point: extended davening, contemplation during davening, deep study of Chassidus. No, no, no—this isn’t just something from thirty years ago that we hear about. What did the Rebbe ask of him? Don’t forget what a shliach is. A shliach is an example. A shliach is an example. If you say, “I’m a Chabad chossid,” you shouldn’t need to say it aloud. People can see it in you. That is the shlichus. There is a presumption that a shliach carries out his mission—especially within the family, among the children, among relatives, among all those with whom we have some connection, in whatever way or place that may be. They need to feel that we are connected to them. I wish

1:33:03 Speaker 15 us all success. I thank you for letting me share my foolish thoughts. I hope that at least a little of what came out of my mouth—and these really weren’t things I prepared today; I barely prepared what I was asked to—will stay with us, and that we’ll be able to put it all into practice...

1:33:32 Speaker 4 How did our Sages put it? [unclear]. This shlichus, as our Sages said, the moment that... It’s worth mentioning something small, though not so small: Whoever wants to come in, the Rebbe holds the door for him. Whoever wants to go out, the Rebbe holds the door for him. Some need to go out, and some need to come in. Naturally, the Rebbe would say thank you. Especially in years when we don’t always remember to express thanks and appreciation to everyone who took part, giving of themselves, their time, and their strength, as you heard earlier. And to the mara d’asra, the distinguished speakers—he’s already calling us “distinguished speakers,” like all the speakers. Much love, and my thanks to Reichman[?], Yulis[?], [unclear], and Liti Sternchai[?], the nephew of Rabbi Shlomo Haber[?]. In Israel, please convey our thanks to the team at [unclear], who devoted their time [unclear] over five days. We should also mention Rovi[?], who suggested bringing in Pinchas Salzman[?] from the [unclear] club, and those who prepared the warm food and catering, together with their staff. And Nissan, who handled the technical side. Well done to the entire team and to what is called the educational staff of Yeshivas Har Akiva[?]. Yes. The proof that this isn’t just a formality is that he has already brought it up. Rabbi [unclear], Rabbi Tzvi[?], spoke about how strongly we must demand [unclear] in our lives. Yes, well done to them too. And notice the person filming and handling things so that our broadcast doesn’t get mixed up. And if there’s someone here we haven’t acknowledged yet, please acknowledge [unclear], who heads the education division [unclear] Poizner. And now, ladies and gentlemen, [unclear] the number eight, above nature and the ordinary. We can define something within the seven; what is beyond that cannot be defined or encompassed,

1:36:45 Speaker 4 cannot be grasped by the power of reason. We sense the eight; there is a power to eight, but it is hard to define. In the holy city of Jerusalem, he is known by name, and for ten years now I’ve been saying his name. His name is Rabbi Michael. We just call him Michael. I’ve seen a great deal here too, but Michael comes to one hundred and one. One hundred is ten times ten, but we need something that expresses what is above that ten, above that idea. That is the power of the angel Michael, who is in the heart of the Jewish people: he stands not at one hundred, but at one hundred and one. Rabbi Michael [unclear]. In Yiddish, a shtrik is a rope. And the story explains the advantage of a rope: when you are at one end and pull it, the other end is pulled too. I also heard this from Rabbi Elazar, Rabbi Natan, and those who understand will understand. He said to think about what happened there. There is a fire in Jerusalem. It is easy to see a fire; dealing with its terror is hard. If someone needs—excuse me—if you step in, you have set a direction for fighting the fire, and you also need water and money, and so on. Sometimes, as we heard from the rabbi, these are small things. We don’t notice that when the fire spreads, Rabbi Azriel[?] suggested that we put it out with fire. To throw fire, ladies and gentlemen, is an enormous burden, and [unclear]. But what is needed there is always needed. We invite him, and I see that Rabbi Alshich does love to write, and write. If time remains—and we’ll try to leave time—if you have a question during the lecture, something critical or something relevant, you can hand him a note in writing, and I hope he’ll have time to answer it. With great pleasure, ladies and gentlemen: clinical psychologist Rabbi Yitzchak Alshich. Please.

1:39:18 Speaker 5 With the permission of Rabbi Ashkenazi, the mara d’asra; the rabbi who chairs the conference; the rosh yeshiva; and those who worked to arrange it—and with appreciation for them—and with the permission of all the speakers here and everyone else... I want to offer a few words and present some ideas, but also to understand a little about how we translate those ideas into practical action on the ground. So we’ll try to do that briefly. Our emphasis is on ways to create an identity, when we want the identity that develops to be one that carries the values of Or HaMizrachi, with some sense of identification with them. We therefore need to understand what happens as a person develops, and how he comes to choose his identity at all. Identity is not something we can simply announce and expect someone to adopt. So what makes a person identify with values, recognize them, or feel that he belongs to a particular group? What has to happen within him? The answer to that question will also help us decide what we need to do. When we look at what happens in practice, we see that there has already been a great deal of success in this work, even though perhaps we have never analyzed what we’re doing. We simply did what we did: we sat together, talked, and met, and we continued with the things that worked. On the other hand, there are people we don’t reach and don’t influence. Sometimes, the more we invest, the more the results are the exact opposite of what we intended. So the main focus of what I’ll present to you will be on those with whom we have not yet succeeded. Ultimately, with Hashem’s help, we will succeed. But whether the difficulty is emotional or cognitive, there is some inability to adapt, some lack of success—or what we might call success that has not yet come—

1:42:26 Speaker 5 and we’ll see what we need to do to reach them too. The first thing we should consider is what influences another person. I’m certainly not telling you anything new here, but there is no positive reinforcement more meaningful or more influential than a personal connection. The personal connection formed with another person will influence him far more than anything else. So if I approach someone and truly accept him, take a genuine interest in him, and genuinely value him, that can have a positive influence. But that isn’t enough. The personal connection must be accompanied by the other person’s sense of success. In other words, the person I connect with needs to feel some success—an inner sense of success—in what I put before him and what I ask of him. If a person performs mitzvos, or connects with a particular culture, style of dress, or [unclear], but does not feel inwardly that it makes him feel good about himself, he will keep hesitating, looking at other people’s opinions, and doing nothing. For example—and this becomes clear in the classroom—if a child sits in class and does not learn, and feels no sense of success, then if he disrupts the class, that is a good sign. It shows that he is alive and engaged. But we have not managed to reach him and give him the feeling that what is happening there amounts to success for him. When a child is not succeeding—say he is struggling, or cannot compete and succeed at the same level as others—the sense of success is still valuable. That is why I emphasize his efforts and regard those efforts as successes.

1:45:06 Speaker 5 The one who perseveres, who puts in the effort, succeeds. He manages to sit down, apply himself, and study diligently. That is a success. The more I convey that I value another person’s success, the more he will feel that here is something he can identify with more easily. Now, when it comes to the messages we want to convey, one of the fundamental things that gets in the way of instilling values is openness to criticism—both self-criticism and criticism from others. We stand there teaching rules of conduct, trying to do it with a great deal of love and support, but often there is no openness to criticism. When there is no openness to criticism, criticism becomes a reminder of how much I’ve failed. If someone comes to me and tells me what my flaw is, what I’m lacking, it is as though he is pointing out my shortcoming and making me feel bad about myself. That is exactly the opposite of what he needs if he wants to influence me and bring me on board with the values he represents. So very often, if I haven’t built up the ability to accept criticism, and then I go and criticize someone, then even though criticism is an act of love—right? Perhaps even an expression of trust. After all, I’m telling the other person, “I believe you’re capable of seeing what’s happening with you and correcting it.” That is rooted in trust in him. It may even be a form of support. But he won’t see it that way unless a child has been taught to feel that he really is capable of dealing with criticism, accepting it, and making a change. Without that preparation, criticism often feels like rejection, which only gives a person a reason to justify why he cannot get along with me. Now I want to talk a little about independence and making a decision. If a person adopts for himself

1:47:37 Speaker 5 a way of life or an affiliation with a group, there is something strange here, a kind of complication. After all, when you make an independent decision, you make it in relation to some alternative. If everyone around you thinks a certain way, then to make a decision of your own, you need to separate yourself a little, to detach yourself a little from your surroundings, so that you know this decision is your own. So often, what we see as some deviation or failure to uphold values is not an expression of rebellion. Rather, it is a matter of: if I am going to decide for myself, I need to be in an environment that does not pressure me, one that gives me the opportunity to make that independent decision. For some of our children, this matter of making an independent decision is more significant, and for others it is simply less so. But for everyone, at some stage of life—and if not for us, then for someone else—there is that moment when I decide: this is now my way of life; this is my identity. Now, if we take away someone’s opportunity to be in that atmosphere of independence, where he can decide for himself, he may look for another place where he can feel that independence, because he knows it is not possible here. So very often we are alarmed by the independence or the detachment and interpret it as a rejection of, and flight from, our values, when it is more a matter of experimentation or some personal psychological need of the child. There are things we do that prevent a person from taking in the ideas we want to convey. There are things we do in the wrong way. For example, if we approach someone with an air of superiority, he feels inferior. He feels less worthy; he feels unappreciated. When a person feels unappreciated, a defensive barrier goes up against

1:50:39 Speaker 5 that superiority, and it is hard for him to cooperate with something presented as superior, because that would confirm how inferior he is. The second thing is failure: a person’s failure when he tries to do something. For example, we want someone to study well, or to carry out activities in the best possible way, and he does not succeed. So every time he is called upon to do something, what does he feel? He feels, “Once again, they’re putting me in a position where I’ll fail.” And the more that failure becomes the main point of emphasis, the main thing he is blamed for and thinks about inwardly, the harder it will be for him. It will lower his self-image and interfere with the process of preparing him. If we force someone who, as he matures, feels, “Now I decide for myself; I have to make my own choices,” then we are working against his inner need to decide and choose independently. There is another interesting situation. If we present a child with figures of tzaddikim, people who were very successful in facing various situations, expecting him to identify with them, the student may sometimes say to himself, “That person has strength I don’t have. I’ll never reach that level.” And if that is the figure presented to me, then I give up from the outset. I despair from the outset, because I will never be like that person. If we want the child to identify with someone who succeeded, the point where the child can connect with that person is where he struggled, where things were difficult for him. That is something the child can relate to: “It’s hard for me too. I struggle with decisions too.” If all he is given is the bottom line—that in the end the person succeeded—it creates pressure. The child will not identify with him, because that is not where he feels the connection. So

1:53:13 Speaker 5 often, when we hear people presenting a figure to look up to, presenting a tzaddik, the question is whether the child can connect with him. For some children, those figures will not be a good fit; they will find it difficult. That is why the process leading up to the final success is so important, and not just the final success itself. There is also the emphasis on what is forbidden. A prohibition does not come from within, through something the child identifies with and is interested in. Often, a big “forbidden” is imposed on the child, and he finds it hard to deal with. And if we reject him on the basis of what is wrong in his behavior, that criticism is, of course, misplaced. But whenever there is criticism—and we have already spoken about this—we need that balance between criticizing the actions and understanding the person. Someone who has done wrong must certainly be corrected; we certainly need to guide him and prepare him to understand what is right and what is just. At the same time, I should temper and balance my criticism of his actions with acceptance of the other person and with the love I have for him. There are two parallel tracks: “Your behavior is not okay,” and “I love you.” If that second part—“I love you”—is missing from the criticism of the negative behavior, then he has nothing to look for with us. It is as though we have cut off contact with him, and he will cut off contact with us. Often, a child may feel an urge to do something negative precisely so that we will reject him. Then he can justify all his negative behavior on the basis that we rejected him, even though he brought it about. We see this in chutzpah. The child who speaks disrespectfully is trying to get us to reject him so that he does not have to remain loyal to us. It makes him feel better; it eases his conscience, because, after all, we rejected him. It is right to see the chutzpah as disobedience or misbehavior, but the main thing behind the chutzpah is

1:55:32 Speaker 5 Looking for space. What you’re asking of me is hard for me. So I’ll do something that eases my conscience and makes things easier for me. I’ll be disrespectful, you’ll reject me, and then I won’t have any need to be loyal to you. After all, you rejected me, so my conscience is clear. We’ve freed him from the dilemma he was struggling with up to that point. On the one hand, he wants to do something wrong; on the other, he wants to remain loyal to his educators and parents. But the moment he does something that forces a choice, we resolve the dilemma for him. We do the work for him and make it easier for him to let go of his loyalty and his values. We should know that trying to persuade someone is the worst way to help them change their views. Yes, the worst. If I try to persuade someone, I’m effectively telling him: Your position makes so much sense to me that I feel I need to invest effort in getting you to change it. His position shouldn’t seem so self-evident. And if it does, he says: So what? The person trying to persuade me understands my position too; that must mean there’s some truth to it. Instead of persuasion, we need to use questions. How did you reach that conclusion? And as he explains how he got there, give him the opportunity to see what is missing, and the flaws and shortcomings in his position. His own questioning is a more important tool for changing views than trying to persuade him. Now there’s the problem of the child who is different, the child who doesn’t fit in and can’t find his place. The one who doesn’t succeed in his studies, or in good deeds, good character traits, and Jewish practice. Where does he belong? If we relate to our students, to our children, only as a group, we will naturally lose some of them. And they’ll go somewhere else to look for what? To look for success

1:58:13 Speaker 5 of their own, to look for a place to belong, because they’ve seen there’s no place for them here. We may need to develop the skill and expertise to bring that student close—the one who, for some reason, isn’t reached by the standard ways we convey the values we feel strongly about. It’s not that those values shouldn’t speak to him, but in practice, on the ground, they don’t. So what should I do as an educator? I can do more of the same, the same thing again and again. But if I haven’t succeeded and I keep doing the same things, I’ll reach the conclusion—and he will too—that he won’t find what he’s looking for with me. Connecting with someone who does not yet identify with our values calls for creativity. It calls for a particular, thoughtful investment. The bottom line is: When will we reach him? How will we know that we’ve reached him? Two things. Two things that will stay with us throughout. First: Have I formed a connection with him? Is there some kind of connection between us? You already know that; I’m not telling you anything new. The second is success. In the experience we shared, did he feel some success of his own? Did he feel that he’s good, that he’s okay, that he can succeed? If so, that opening can grow. But if talking with me makes him feel small, worthless, or that his values are different, I could lose him in a second. Someone who feels defeated or hurt is someone we’ve let go to other circles, other places, where he’ll look. What is he

2:00:32 Speaker 5 looking for? Someone he can relate to. That’s human nature: a person looks for someone who fits him, even when there’s a difference, even when something is distorted. Now, many times we get angry as parents or educators. And of course, as educators, we get angry only for objective reasons, right? To educate. But often there’s an underlying feeling. Here’s a child who doesn’t believe in—doesn’t believe in education, doesn’t believe in the values, and we convey anger toward him. That anger is what’s called projection. It’s anger at ourselves. After all, it’s hard to say to ourselves, “I’m angry at myself.” Some people can say it. So what do we do instead? We get angry at someone else, and that’s how much of our anger works. It isn’t the other person’s fault that I’m angry. It isn’t what he did that made me angry or caused my anger. The anger comes from me, because I can’t deal with it myself. In other words, it’s my failure. I failed. I’m angry at myself and project that anger onto someone else because accepting it as my own is too painful. Then it comes out as hurt and rejection of the person I’m angry with. It tends to create a disconnect. So anger is not really an educational act. It’s a way of releasing what’s going on inside me, and in the end it has very negative consequences. If I can recognize that, deep down, I have limitations, and that I haven’t achieved remarkable success in reaching someone else—and if I can take that recognition, give it some structure, and work out how to make a new decision about how to relate to him and give him that feeling of success—then perhaps I can free myself from the frustration,

2:02:54 Speaker 5 the expressions of frustration, the little signs of frustration that make him feel bad. Now, I have a few more things to say. There’s something very interesting here. Every deviation, every departure from the rules, every way a child acts outside the norms or culture of the setting where he lives carries a message for us. And if we have the ability to listen, if we know how to listen, there are two things we need to listen to. First, his words. We talk to the child and ask him what happened; that’s good, and we know how to do that. But we also need to listen to the child’s actions. When a child in a community, in a setting with a particular culture, behaves differently, he’s telling us something. He does it deliberately. We should know that he does it so that we’ll understand one of two things. The first possibility—and it’s always one of these two things, not something else—is a request for help. He’s saying: I know what you expect of me, and I see that it’s hard for me to meet those expectations. The more I try to meet them, the more I have to sacrifice something else that matters to me: my friends, my wishes, or my needs. I’m being asked to make a sacrifice that’s too much for me. So he’s saying: Help me. How does he say it? By failing. By facing our demands and saying: You’re the educators. [unclear] I’m telling you: Look, I haven’t succeeded, and I don’t know how to succeed. I need you to make the necessary adjustments so I can succeed. That’s one message. The second possible message, if it isn’t a request for help—and we’ll get to that in a moment,

2:05:14 Speaker 5 We need to know how to recognize what is happening when a person, when a child, behaves negatively or goes against a rule they live by. It is a distress signal. The child, the person, is saying: “I have some inner distress, and in the way you relate to me, you aren’t noticing it. If you don’t notice it, I’ll be very angry with you. I’m telling you through my behavior, because it’s hard for me to put it into words, that something is troubling me inside. Pay attention!” Now, often we do try to pay attention. We do notice the inner distress, and what do we do? We do everything we can for them. We try to help them out of their distress, and that is a mistake, because it is too much of a response. When someone is in distress, that distress serves as a security blanket. It gives them an identity: they are the unfortunate one. And on the basis of that identity, they receive concessions and consideration, and everyone feels sorry for them. Yes. So they cannot give up that identity, because they would lose too much: the benefits it brings, and perhaps they don’t even know whether they can manage without it. Now, when a child signals a request for help, they are saying, “Just show me how I can meet what you’re asking of me while also meeting my own needs, or how I can give up my needs.” So when it is a request for help, the answer is to help the child: give them that help, offer advice, and guide them in the right direction. By contrast, when a child is expressing distress, the first thing is not to help them. The first thing is to connect with their distress. And here we have a task of changing their perspective. Our work in helping them is to help them become convinced that they can manage even without that distress, that they can

2:07:53 Speaker 5 let go of it. Only then can we offer solutions. We have no idea how tightly they are holding on to their distress, because whenever we offer help to someone in distress, what will they do? And here—let’s look at the slide. They will say yes, yes, to the good advice I offered them, and what will they do? No, no, they won’t do anything. They will say, “Yes, good idea. I’ll try it.” What do we see afterward? They did nothing. Why? This is what is called passive aggression. Yes. To our faces they say, “Yes, I’m cooperating with you,” but in the end they won’t dare cooperate with us and give up their distress. So in practice, they do nothing. Whenever someone approaches me, then, my initial assumption will be that it is a request for help, and I will offer help. Based on what happens after I offer it, I’ll see whether this is distress or not. If they really took the idea, went with it, tried, put in effort, and succeeded, then yes, I got it right. That really was what they needed. They were asking for help. But if they made no effort at all—said they would try and didn’t—then I know the issue isn’t that they need a better idea and will come back to me for another one that I’ll have to be creative enough to provide. Rather, there is something deeper that they are holding on to. That is their inner distress. Now, if we don’t reach those people and help them change the way they see their need to hold on to their distress, we lose them; we give up on them. Because ultimately they conclude that we are not the people to turn to. After all, they gave us a chance. They made it clear to us and emphasized just how distressed they were, and what did we do? We offered them help, which was the wrong response

2:10:10 Speaker 5 to give them. So clearly, we are not the people they can approach for help. I’ll say just a few more words and then finish. The point is that an institution is allowed to protect itself. Boundaries are a way to preserve quality. Giving up boundaries harms the other person. It is as though I’m saying, “You can’t do it. You think you can’t meet this standard? I’ll remind you: you can’t meet it, so I’ll make an exception for you.” That shows a lack of respect for the other person. By contrast, setting boundaries and helping people succeed within them is a matter of quality. A mother sets a boundary that her child must not cross the street without looking. Setting that boundary conveys care and love. So children need the institutions around them to set boundaries. There is nothing wrong with that. Those boundaries are positive and improve things. An adolescent who comes to a place with boundaries steps across them to show that they make their own decisions. So the boundary serves the adolescent by giving them something they can use to prove, “I can cross this line. No one will stop me.” If, because they haven’t kept the boundaries, I widen them, I make a big mistake. Now they have to go much farther to cross a boundary and prove to themselves that they can decide for themselves. So boundaries are good for institutions. But of course, when someone insists on crossing them, we have to look at it as a request for help, an expression of distress, or part of the experience of adolescence. A child has a need to prove to themselves that they are growing up now and can make their own decisions. And this is a good time, a good stage in life, for them to decide on their own

2:12:31 Speaker 5 next steps. One more important point, to my mind, is how we instill values. If we want to instill values in someone—and this connects to what you said earlier—we need to connect with them at a moment of uncertainty, when they face a dilemma. If I hold up some holy rabbi as the person they ought to be like, I may be setting them an impossible task, a challenge that is too hard for them. But if I connect with their difficulty, with how torn they feel inside and how hard it is for them to decide, and stand there with them, then ultimately they will draw on their own strength to make a choice, decide, and solve the problem themselves. If I offer them a solution, I’m not doing them a favor. I’m interfering with their inner process of finding their own solution. So when they are uncertain, that is a good time for me to be with them as an adviser, rather than as a problem-solver. We have plenty of solutions to offer, but offering them is not an educational contribution. It is a kind of indulgent, supportive contribution that interferes with the person’s inner process of making the decision. Just one last word. Often, the tasks we set—and it is easy for us to say this—call for personal sacrifice. I see self-sacrifice as a value high on the list of values. There is good in it, but not at the expense of a person’s basic personal needs. If I demand self-sacrifice without noticing that the person has some inner, personal need for help at that moment, and I ignore it, then the call for self-sacrifice simply will not take hold. If, on the other hand, I attend to the person’s personal, emotional, inner need,

2:14:51 Speaker 5 So I ask him for personal sacrifice. That will come, because for a person to make a sacrifice, he needs to feel good enough about himself. He needs a positive self-image to be able to give something up, to be able to make that kind of concession. Okay, I’ll just sum up what we said about an educational process that contributes to maturity and the formation of identity. There are conditions, and there are... To begin with, the demands include giving a sense of personal connection and building on successes. On the negative side, there are obstacles: demands that are too high, criticism at the wrong time or delivered in the wrong way, rejection, and [unclear]—things that slow down the process of learning to make sacrifices. As for accepting someone who is different, that calls for recognizing different needs; the same thing won’t work for everyone, and it takes some creativity. When it comes to expressing anger, we know that it only hurts, and that we need to examine why we ourselves are angry, because sometimes it reflects on our own abilities. In general, when someone acts out, it points either to a request for help or to a signal of distress. How do we tell the difference between a request for help and a signal of distress that the person isn’t yet ready to let go of? We can tell by how they respond to the help we offer. Ultimately, we say that setting boundaries sends a message of willingness to help. Instilling values means connecting with the dilemmas within the person. Self-sacrifice can come only after I have first met the person’s personal and emotional needs. Then the person can also be receptive to criticism and to the idea of self-sacrifice. I hope these thoughts will prompt some reflection, and that there will be other opportunities to work through them in the most fitting way. Thank you very much.

2:17:41 Speaker 6 “He set the boundaries of the nations according to the number of the children of Israel.” If we generally need to set boundaries for the nations, for those whose light is dim and does not shine so brightly, then we have heard that we need to set boundaries “according to the number”—a word connected with sapphire and shining—for the children of Israel, for the little ones, so that they will have light and joy. Yasher koach, Rabbi Michael Shitrit. I think—I’m sure that... I don’t remember exactly, but I believe it is on the verse, “It is a tree of life to those who hold fast to it.” In any case, the Midrash gives a parable of a ship’s captain who threw a rope to someone in the sea. He said, “As long as you hold on to the rope, you are safe.” I hope we will hold on to the rope we have been given: “It is a tree of life to those who hold fast to it.” And an announcement: Anyone who wants recordings can obtain recordings of this talk or of earlier talks on education. We will now hear from the mashpia, Rabbi Chaim Ashkenazi. And since we are drawing questions [unclear], the Sages ask: Why did the lulav merit that the blessing be recited over it? The esrog has [unclear]. The hadas has its qualities, and the lulav has its qualities, but the esrog is more important in terms of its qualities. The Sages say: Because the lulav takes the hadas and the aravah along with it, on its right and left, it merits the blessing. The Sages say: The lulav is all about life. We want life, so we must take the lulav and bring one close on the right and one on the left. We are careful that it not be only a matter of right and left; the aravah, too, should be on both sides. Let us hear words of Torah for days of blessing from Rabbi Chaim Ashkenazi. Please.

2:20:08 Speaker 7 Good week. [unclear] 10 Tammuz [unclear]. The Rebbe cites in his holy works that this is mid-Tammuz. And since the Rebbe cites it, it is part of how Chabad chassidim understand this time—Tammuz and mid-Tammuz. May you be inscribed for a good life and peace, and may we merit to see the Rebbe, Melech HaMoshiach, at the actual Geulah.

2:20:42 Speaker 8 Amen.

2:20:45 Speaker 7 I’ve been asked to speak about a very, very important subject—perhaps one that does not receive nearly enough attention. It is one of the central and essential issues today [unclear]. But I need to keep it short, because I have a reception for Rabbi Levin. I want to focus on the Rabbi and try to hear him. I apologize in advance. What I was asked to speak about is the unity of Moshiach and unity among the Jewish people. We have just come from the days of Chanukah. Chanukah is related to chinuch, education, as everyone knows, and as is explained at length in the Rebbe’s sichos. There is a well-known question: Why was the whole miracle of the flask of oil necessary? When the entire community is impure, communal offerings may be brought despite the impurity. Hakadosh Boruch Hu does not perform a miracle for no reason. If, in principle, they could have used impure oil, why was this miracle needed? A number of answers have been given. One of the most interesting answers—or at least the one relevant to us—is this: When does the rule allowing communal offerings despite impurity apply? During the continuation of the service. In other words, the Beis Hamikdash is functioning, but something has gone wrong—such as the case the Gemara describes of a meis mitzvah—and the entire community has become impure. Because impurity has become a problem, it is set aside and the daily offering is brought. But when the service is being inaugurated, when you are just beginning, you cannot begin with impure oil. The rule permitting it applies only once the service is underway, not at the beginning. So here, specifically, pure oil was needed. And this was not just any pure oil. The Gemara tells us it was a flask of oil sealed with the seal of the Kohen Gadol—a detail the Rebbe emphasizes. The oil needed the Kohen Gadol himself to seal it. Sealing flasks was not ordinarily the Kohen Gadol’s job.

2:23:16 Speaker 7 So from here we see, the Rebbe says, that education must come from the Kohen Gadol. Who is the Kohen Gadol? The Rebbe asks. It says there: Who is this Kohen Gadol? He is the person who dwells constantly in Jerusalem. That is, he is constantly [unclear]. That is the Kohen Gadol. He is the one who gives us a flask of oil to awaken the oil, the... [unclear]. That, in brief, is the idea of a Rebbe in general. As Chassidus shows, Hakadosh Boruch Hu is not someone we need only from time to time. It is not like a tradesman you remember when a faucet is leaking, or, G-d forbid, a dentist you think of when you have a toothache. Then you ask your neighbor, “Do you know a good dentist nearby who can see me quickly?” Hakadosh Boruch Hu is with us twenty-four hours a day, every day of our lives. That, in essence, was what the Greeks fought against: they wanted to disconnect Hakadosh Boruch Hu from the Torah. Do what makes sense to you—all the good and wonderful things. They did not demand that people do bad things. The Greeks did good things, but without any connection to Him at all. That is why the Chashmonaim went to war. For Jews, everything is connected with holiness. Chassidus taught that to connect with Hakadosh Boruch Hu, one needs a Rebbe and the means he provides; only through him can one connect with Hakadosh Boruch Hu. So a Rebbe is part of life twenty-four hours a day. Again, it is not that you remember the Rebbe only when you have some problem. A Rebbe is part of life twenty-four hours a day. And so the Rebbe is part of life twenty-four hours a day. In every generation, the miracle takes place [unclear]. But what does the Rebbe want from us in our generation? Even within a single generation, at different times—what does he want?

2:25:49 Speaker 7 What does the Rebbe want now? What will the Rebbe want tomorrow? What will the Rebbe say the day after tomorrow? What did the Rebbe want for the Yom Tov? What does the Rebbe want from us on Chanukah? What does the Rebbe want from us on Pesach? We can’t hand out Sukkos materials on Pesach or blow the shofar on Purim. The Rebbe did give us campaigns for Sukkos, for shofar and for distributing matzah, but of course, each thing has its proper time. There is one thing whose time is all the time, the Rebbe says. What is it? The most essential campaign: to welcome Moshiach, to bring Moshiach, to bring Moshiach to the Rebbe now. This campaign applies all the time. And not only in the sense that you can influence people and talk about Moshiach twenty-four hours a day. With the other campaigns, even the tefillin campaign, you can put on tefillin during the day but not at night. You can talk to someone about tefillin at night, but if he’s tired, it may be hard for him to remember it the next day. The subject of Moshiach is a twenty-four-hour-a-day subject. But it isn’t only a matter of time. As the Rebbe says, this is the most essential campaign, because all the appointed times have already passed, and the work has been completed. In simple words, our work now is one thing alone: Moshiach. The other campaigns had their times under the Rebbe’s direction, including the education campaign, when the emphasis was on education, and so on. But everything, in the Rebbe’s words, is permeated with this point: “Bring Moshiach to the Rebbe now.” And this subject of the Rebbe now, “Bring Moshiach to the Rebbe now”—that is the Rebbe’s expression to the adults. What does that mean for us? It must not, G-d forbid, come at the expense of anything else, not even in the slightest.

2:28:01 Speaker 7 G-d forbid that it should detract from the Rebbe’s campaign, from this whole subject of shluchim. These things are among the closest to the Rebbe. To sum up, the Rebbe said in the sicha of Chayei Sarah that the task now of all his shluchim—the task of every Chabad chossid, who is the Rebbe’s shliach—is [unclear]. There are those who are shluchim whose livelihood is bound up with their shlichus. Others earn their living in other professions but serve as shluchim at other times throughout the year. In any case, this isn’t limited to a chossid who holds the formal position of shliach. Every single Chabad chossid is the Rebbe’s shliach. So who appointed me? The Rebbe, the one who sends us. The Rebbe did not mention me by name or address me personally, [unclear]. The Rebbe himself announced it publicly and added several points. And this sicha was finalized: the Rebbe signed off on it, edited it, published it and instructed that it be publicized. What is the shlichus today? The shlichus today is to publicize the Rebbe’s message. But here we need to stress a very important point about chassidic education in general. As I explained earlier, Chassidus teaches that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is not part of our lives only at certain times, and therefore neither is the Rebbe. It is twenty-four hours a day, throughout our lives. That is the difference between chassidic education and Jewish education in general. What does Chassidus add to education? Jewish education can become a matter of checking boxes. You said Modeh Ani—you check a box. You washed your hands—another check. You put on tzitzis—another check. And you go through the day that way, checking off as much as you manage to do. But in the end, what have you gained from the mitzvos? You have a page showing how many times you checked a box that day.

2:30:21 Speaker 7 [Unclear] tells a story about one of the great rabbis, who was appointed rabbi of a certain city, but the people there did not show him respect. He wrote to the Rebbe Rashab and complained that they did not honor him, even though he had [unclear]. The Rebbe Rashab answered him: “But you have not taken [unclear] from the Baal Shem Tov.” He said to him, “What does it say in [unclear]?” They did not understand what he meant. [Unclear] is something superficial. They look at you, and they don’t see it in you. That’s why they don’t show you respect. You understand? Chassidus brought a new understanding: fulfilling a mitzvah isn’t just doing another mitzvah. We do it with our soul. It isn’t a matter of [unclear]. As Reb [unclear] said, [unclear]. Chassidus brought a new understanding: Torah and mitzvos connect us with Hakadosh Boruch Hu. And this brings us back to the struggle against the Greeks. The Greeks wanted to sever that connection. Check a box: you behaved nicely, you completed a number of tasks and good deeds, so give yourself a check mark. And after 120 years, ask them to put the notebook with all those check marks into your grave. This week I heard a story someone told with great enthusiasm. There was a man who passed away and ascended to the next world. They let him choose: “What do you want, Gan Eden or Gehinnom?” He was a little [unclear], and hadn’t done too many

2:32:39 Speaker 7 [unclear]. But they told him, “You have to choose.” So he said, “All right, I want Gan Eden.” But first, why hadn’t they let him in? Because when they asked him [unclear], he said, “I can’t read.” “You can’t read? No problem. We’ll bring someone to read the paper for you.” Fine, he accepted that. So they said, “Now you just have to tell us what you want.” “Let’s go to Gan Eden.” He went into Gan Eden. Torah scholars were sitting there learning, and none of it meant anything to him. He wandered around and found someone he knew. Then he went out and said to the guard at the door, “I’d like to visit Gehinnom. Maybe I’ll like it better there. Give me a note saying I can come back here.” The guard gave him a note, and he took it to Gehinnom. “You want to enter Gehinnom? Go right in, no problem.” He went in and saw light, a change of guards, nothing troubling. People were eating and drinking, and so on. Suddenly an announcement came: “The break is over. Everyone into the hot tunnels.” Now he felt completely out of place and wanted to escape. He went to the gate, but the guardian angel there wouldn’t let him out. He showed the angel his note giving him permission to leave. The angel said, “I can’t read.” [Unclear.] “We don’t know how to read either.” The chossid explained that these things aren’t written on paper, on what they call [unclear], a note you carry around. They’re written on the tablet of your heart. As we know from [unclear], it was already on the tablet, and it had to be brought into the heart. The same thing applies here.

2:34:34 Speaker 7 With the [unclear] that we say at the end of davening, [unclear] that the whole world speaks about. [unclear] was a prayer, and what do we say to Him? And again, they emphasized why, specifically for us, these things are not just something we say. These things are deeply ingrained. We live them twenty-four hours a day. Usually, when you say something, you have to remind yourself of it when the time comes to do it, whether now or in a moment. But something that is with you twenty-four hours a day—you live it twenty-four hours a day. That is what Chassidic Jewish life means. For example, you know, when you pay attention, it is very interesting. The Rebbe gives children tzedakah—the regular practice of giving it to young children. He also taught them that we should have an organized system: when someone is there to give a child tzedakah, he should give it to the young child. He comes in through the door, gives him a coin, and the child goes and gives it. For hundreds of years, there was no such thing. It became so deeply ingrained that a young child from a religious family, two, three, or four years old, was shown a coin. What does he call the coin? He doesn't know it is a coin, money. He calls it tzedakah. When he gets older, he suddenly receives a book, there is [unclear], and then he realizes: Oh, this is money, which we can use to make a fortune, and he enjoys that. But when he is little, he calls it tzedakah. What is it meant for? Why? Because that is how thoroughly he was taught at home and shown by example what this coin is meant for: it is meant for tzedakah. He doesn't know anything else. The same is true of the example we know from life at home. In every Jewish home, and especially every Chassidic home, there are things people say... So what does that mean, the things people say?

2:36:41 Speaker 7 All in all, when the mother meets someone, she ends the phone call with something like, [unclear]. When the father meets someone: “A good and sweet year,” [unclear], and so on. That is what life at home is like. Then, regarding other matters in the home: he doesn't move from the shul; he needs to be more careful about saying brachos; he needs to be more careful about kashrus; we need to check the mezuzos and check the tefillin. When are things like that said? It isn't just something people do. When these things are said, the child is automatically drawn along with them. That doesn't mean that in every case [unclear] is much better. It doesn't mean that everything we do—or whatever we do—we should automatically expect from the child, or from the boss. We have to say it. The child will take what he needs to take, and we should guide him to take what he needs. Some people think that if they are believers and live one way or another, then their child will automatically know how to live [unclear]. Once, a mother spoke to him about her daughter, who was going through a spiritual decline. She was twelve years old, or thereabouts. She said she was doing everything [unclear], and in the middle of it she was speaking with the rabbinate. A spiritual decline and deterioration. That isn't how I see it. After all, there are chassidim who say not to take a break during treatment. That is a Chassidic hiddur. Not to speak during [unclear]—to say that a twelve-year-old boy or a twelve-year-old girl can be careful about that. Of course, it is nice to see such a thing. Not always. It doesn't always help to impose it on a child. This is apparently why I was invited here to speak as a psychologist. First of all, just to start with the child: people think that everything I live by, I must immediately see in my child.

2:38:37 Speaker 7 I forget that there are decades between us. My son doesn't eat everything I eat, either. And I certainly don't pass on to my son everything I carry in my head—all my troubles, pressures, worries, and concerns, G-d forbid. Right. So you have to understand that in these matters of purity and impurity as well, you don't pass on to your son everything that is in your head or heart. Rather, your son needs to see how you live, and he takes from what he sees. In any case, this matter of living with Moshiach is not merely an individual thing. How many times did I say “Yechi”? How many times did I say “Yechi Adoneinu” to the child? There is nothing to say. What you are describing is like saying Shema. And there are those who say that it is just words, just something one says. For some people, saying Shema is also just words. And yet they hear Shema, and they hear the chazzan say Shema. In some places it is customary to say Shema even at a point when one has to interrupt [unclear]; in other places, they say Shema more carefully, according to halachah. True, not everyone listens in shul, and I have often seen people saying Shema while looking all around them. But someone will still ask as though it is just [unclear]. True, it is [unclear], but that person has a much bigger problem with Hakadosh Boruch Hu. The problem is not the Shema. The problem is the person. So clearly, saying “Yechi” again and again at the appropriate times is what we need to do. That is the minimum, but we cannot stop there. The home needs to be fully immersed in it. Just as the home lives with Rosh Hashanah and lives with Pesach, and just as the home lives with Chanukah and Purim, so too it needs to live with Moshiach. You cannot expect the home to live like any other Jewish home and the children to live with Moshiach. For the Rebbe, the subject of Moshiach became the—

2:40:26 Speaker 7 —strength and reinforcement of everything. The Rebbe's sichos over the last twenty years are full of it. From one Shabbos to the next, from year to year, more and more, until we merited the revelation in 5751 or 5752. It was there throughout Shabbos, in all our thoughts. And the Rebbe wasn't simply speaking about the subject of Moshiach: the Rebbe had already laid out how things were happening in the world, how events were unfolding, how matters were progressing. So when it comes to Moshiach, we merited hearing things that others did not merit hearing. For us, the subject of Moshiach was with us day and night. After every Shabbos, at Havdalah, I remember they would turn off the [unclear] after Shabbos, and a few hours later, in the middle of the night, [unclear]. People would always say, “Moshiach is coming this week.” In light of what the Rebbe had described over Shabbos, surely it couldn't be delayed beyond that week. So the subject of Moshiach is something we need to live with, because it truly became the strength and reinforcement of everything. It is the oil with which we light the Chanukah candles. That also says something about education, but it starts with us. Besides, there is a fundamental mistake in this whole subject of education. Whenever people talk about education, educational influence, psychology, and so on, they speak only about children. We are a bit limited in our thinking; we don't look beyond that. Education applies to every person, even someone of fourteen needs to be educated. The only difference is that up to a certain age, others can educate you because you are not yet trusted to know whom to learn from. So others educate you. If you are a child who is mature in spirit, you accept the educator and try to follow his instructions—and even more, to follow his example. Once you grow older, that is where

2:42:25 Speaker 7 They trust you to know how to educate on your own. So you don’t take just one educator as your teacher; you build your approach from whoever you can, taking what is good from each one. Everyone has a particular person they look up to. You see how one person davened better, how another conducted himself better, how another ran his business honestly. Each person has something you can learn from him. Education applies to all of us. We may have passed the age when our father educated us—our father may no longer be with us—but we have not passed the age of education. Education continues until 120. In fact, education is always a beginning. There is no middle to education; it is always a beginning, because every day we discover new things we didn’t know before. I’ll tell you a story about Rav Saadia Gaon, just briefly. They say that during those troubled times he was traveling in exile. On one occasion, without revealing who he was, he arrived somewhere and stayed with a Jew who treated him with great respect. The man didn’t know he was Rav Saadia Gaon, but he honored him properly in every way. After Rav Saadia Gaon had stayed with him for several days, the Jew found out who his guest was. He came into the room, fell to his knees and begged forgiveness. Rav Saadia Gaon asked him, “Why are you doing this? What did I do?” “I didn’t know you were Rav Saadia Gaon,” he said. “If I had known, I would have treated you with far greater honor.”

2:44:12 Speaker 7 [unclear] That taught him something about avodas Hashem: if each day he comes to know Hakadosh Boruch Hu more deeply than he did before, then the way he served Him yesterday was not enough. In any case, that is the point. I’ve already brought it up. It is so true: every day, someone who studies discovers new things, deeper ideas and a new understanding of what he is learning. Compared with today, what he understood yesterday is only a beginning. That is why we say that each day is new. Every single day is something entirely new compared with what came before. So the point is that education applies to all of us. It isn’t that I’m already educated and now you are being educated, that you are the one who needs to receive an education. I don’t understand that. There are also people who say, “Well, we saw the Rebbe, so we can live with our memories.” What if we hadn’t seen the Rebbe? Where would that leave us? They need a Rebbe, and we need a Rebbe just as much as they do. If we could live on memories of the past, we wouldn’t have needed a Rebbe all those years; memories would always have been enough. But we always need a Rebbe. We need to live with the Rebbe and feel the Rebbe. And we can see now that the Rebbe gave us something to live with during this time, until we merit to see him again with our physical eyes. The Rebbe gave us one fundamental thing to live with: Moshiach and Geulah. That is how to educate the members of our household, how to educate our family, and to know it clearly.