A farbrengen with Rabbi Yoel Kahn

00:01 Let’s come to Yom Kippur. You learned this. All of you learned this, with all the... And all the children who learned the Gemara itself, too... Yom Kippur is connected with the eighth. The Mishnah at the beginning of Yoma says: Seven days before Yom Kippur, the Kohen Gadol is separated from his home. They train him, bring bulls and rams before him, familiarize him with all the avodah of the day—and then comes the eighth day, Yom Kippur. The Gemara, the Gemara. There is this law that he must be separated for seven days: first seven days, and then the eighth. But it also relates to... because if it relates to atonement, then it also relates to... I don’t remember; I’ve forgotten. I think it also relates to the red heifer. It’s here. So the Gemara compares them. The parsha speaks of the seven days of inauguration, and then: “And it came to pass on the eighth day.” There is a section before that, about training. Besides, during that period Aharon and his sons were trained. So first came the seven days of inauguration. During those days, Aharon and his sons were trained, and afterward: “And it came to pass on the eighth day.” The purpose of the avodah, as it explicitly says, was the resting of the Shechinah. I think the Gemara compares the two. So we see even more clearly that Yom Kippur, at its foundation, is also connected with the eighth. Here, the word “eighth” itself is not actually written. It only says that the Kohen Gadol is separated for seven days before Yom Kippur, and then comes the day itself. The Gemara compares them and derives it from that foundation: just as there were seven days of inauguration, seven days of training, and there the parsha explicitly says, “And it came to pass on the eighth day.” There the emphasis is even clearer: it became the eighth day. Of course, this is even more evident regarding... What happened there on the eighth day? That is the primary

02:59 source cited in Chassidus. There is the Kli Yakar, one of the commentators on Chumash. The Kli Yakar asks: What does “And it came to pass on the eighth day” mean? Why did the Shechinah rest specifically on the eighth day? For all seven days, Aharon and his sons performed the avodah and offered korbanos, and nothing happened. On the eighth day there was... The Kli Yakar cites a Midrash that says the number eight is a sacred number. He also cites a Midrash about Moshe Rabbeinu: all of Moshe’s praise was expressed with the word “az”—“Then Moshe sang.” He brings several other examples. The Kli Yakar, with a novel explanation, brings many, many quotations connecting song with the word “az.” “Then Moshe sang.” It says in Chassidus—this author writes—that “Then Moshe sang” was the source for all the instances of “az.” What is the meaning of “az”? The commentators explain the Midrash: What is “az”? An alef rides upon a zayin. There is a zayin, and an alef rides upon it. What does that mean? Everything in the world is connected with the number seven. It begins with the first thing, the seven days of Creation: the whole world was created in seven days. That is what relates to the world. What is the eighth? Something above the world. The affairs of the world are connected with the number seven. Then there is the one—the alef, in the language of the Midrash—riding upon the zayin. That means Hakadosh Boruch Hu, Who is above the world and rides above everything. That is in the Kli Yakar, from the Midrash. The Kli Yakar also brings the matter of bris milah. It says that milah... milah is performed on the eighth day. In other words, when is a bris milah held? On the eighth day. The Midrash also says, as the Sages teach, that first there must be a full week, seven days, and within those seven days there is a Shabbos. But afterward there is

05:37 an eighth day, and that is a precise distinction. This has been emphasized several times in Likkutei Sichos. Since the point is made that the seven days include Shabbos, and then it says that the number eight is sacred, what do we see from this? It means a holiness even higher than the holiness of Shabbos. When it says this—there is an expression in the early commentators, in the Ralbag, about seven days and then a sacred eighth day—those seven days include Shabbos. Nevertheless, even Shabbos falls within the bounds of the world, within the seven. So what is the eighth? It is above even Shabbos. In other words, it is not just holiness; it is a special holiness. And he applies this here: during the seven full days, the Shechinah had still not come to rest. When did the Shechinah come to rest? On the eighth day—above even Shabbos. Then we come to the eighth day of milah, the eighth day when the Shechinah rested, the eighth day of the inauguration. Since the Gemara also compares Yom Kippur to this idea of seven preceding days... Of course, Yom Kippur, too, has the framework of seven days. That is, the seven days before Yom Kippur begin right after Rosh Hashanah. There were seven days in between... to be precise. Not just in a general sense: there were seven days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. That parallels the seven days of inauguration. Afterward comes Yom Kippur. That, too, is correct. So here as well we see several examples of an eighth day. We speak of the eighth day of milah, the eighth day of the inauguration, and the eighth day of Yom Kippur—but in each case, the seven come first, followed by the eighth. We find an eight within Yom Kippur itself, too. Where do we say it in the avodah? In the Musaf

08:08 of Yom Kippur, in the account of the avodah with the ketores. It says there that when the Kohen Gadol sprinkled the blood, there were eight sprinklings: one upward and seven downward. They would count them: one; one and one; one and two; up to one and seven. So here, too, we see eight. But this is something distinctive, unlike what we see elsewhere. Whenever we speak of an eighth, the eighth comes afterward. First come the seven, and then the eighth. With the eighth day of milah, there is first a full week, and afterward the eighth day. The same is true of the eighth day of the inauguration: first the seven days of inauguration, then the eighth day. And likewise with Yom Kippur: first come the seven days during which the Kohen Gadol is separated, and afterward Yom Kippur is the eighth day. The order is always seven first, and then the eighth. On Yom Kippur itself there are also eight sprinklings, but here the order is reversed: we begin with one upward and seven downward. Not seven and one, but one and seven. So the Rebbe dwells on what this really means. What is this concept? Why is it different here from everywhere else? We always say that first come the other things, and only afterward what is above them. Even when the Midrash speaks about milah, it says that the alef rides upon the zayin. There must be the zayin, and the alef rides upon the zayin. When we say the word “az,” we say that the alef rides upon the zayin. What does that mean? There is a zayin, and through it we then reach the alef. But here we say it differently: one upward and seven downward. What do you say?

10:20 We can pause for a few moments, and you can say l’chaim now. Say l’chaim; a niggun is no problem. We can pause here. But Rebbetzin Chana would speak and follow an idea through. I didn’t get into it. She loved it very much. She had a special feel for it. The old niggunim, because of their power—she had a special feel for them. She would write to me: “This niggun, that niggun.” She lived on President Street, a few houses from here, near the corner. She would go out for a little walk. What do I mean by a walk? Not much. She would just go out of the house a little. She had a cane. Many times I would be walking down the street and see her at the corner. It was a surprise like that. Do you remember another one? This niggun, that niggun... She had a very special feel for niggunim and loved them. We need to sing; we need that. Several times she asked me for a particular niggun. There was more, [unclear]. It happened all the time. There are well-known stories, too, but I heard this from her herself. It is interesting and straightforward. There were several things I heard from her. She told me that when Rabbi Levi Yitzchak was there in exile, the days varied. Some days were very hard. There were different circumstances; it wasn’t for a long time, but there was a short period when she was there too. Do you know about this? The Rebbetzin stayed there as well. Rabbi Levi Yitzchak was in exile and was forbidden to leave the town. She was free, but she traveled there to be with him. Some days were one way, some another. There were days when there was literally nothing at all to eat. Nothing. Once, it was Erev Shabbos, and there was nothing in the house. Absolutely nothing. No, there wasn’t.

14:47 They had no one to turn to; they were on their own. They simply had nothing—not a piece of bread. It was still before noon, and she was a little worried. After all, she provided for the household herself. She was worried, but Shabbos was coming and there was nothing. In fact, when she told the story, she said, with a touch of irony, “I don’t know why I was so worried—whether I was preparing for Shabbos or simply preparing to go hungry, because there wasn’t even bread.” That was it. It was before noon. Meanwhile, her husband, Rabbi Levi Yitzchak, put on his Shabbos clothes, put on his Shabbos sirtuk, and went to... He could see how worried she was. She was spreading a cloth on the table, but what did she have for Shabbos? Nothing. Someone came and said, “[unclear].” This isn’t just a story. I spoke to him. Look at what... He didn’t say anything. He said she understood what he meant. What? Why are you laughing? He went, he went. Yes, there is Shabbos. We have a table and a tablecloth. What more do we need? Something like that. This is a story—not just a story. If you take in the story, it’s a story.

00:44 Speaker 1 There are two aspects in the world. There is seven, and there is eight, which is above seven. Or, in the terms I’ve used many times, there are things within a defined order, and there are things above it. There are frameworks, and there is what lies beyond frameworks. The same is true in a person’s soul. A Jew’s avodah and his connection with G-dliness must involve both aspects. Every person has certain faculties that are limited. There are seven middos, but this is not only true of the middos. A person also has other faculties that he needs to develop. Take the faculty of binah: it has fifty gates. But the Gemara says, “Fifty gates of understanding were created in the world, and all but one were given to Moshe.” The fiftieth gate is something distinctive. What are the forty-nine? Forty-nine is seven times seven. In the middos there are seven; in binah there are seven. It is all seven. Then comes the fiftieth gate, which is above seven. What does that mean? A person has middos connected with intellect, and all these are defined and limited. These faculties exist in both the G-dly soul and the animal soul. Take chessed and gevurah, for example. There is chessed in the G-dly soul—love of Hashem. Corresponding to it, there is chessed in the animal soul: a desire for other things, a desire for anything at all. The same applies to fear. There is fear of sin, and there is fear of punishment. Just as there are seven middos in the G-dly soul and seven in the animal soul, so too with intellect. Each middah has an intellectual dimension as well. There are arguments, and here a debate and a battle take place between the G-dly soul and the animal soul. The animal soul intensifies a person’s desire for what is good. By nature, a person

03:38 Speaker 1 loves something good. So what does the animal soul do? It tries to explain things to the person—though it hardly has to try; it shows him with his own eyes the pleasure he can get from it. The G-dly soul has to reflect deeply and fully on all of this: No, the true good is something else. The true good is in spirituality, in Hakadosh Boruch Hu. So first there is a battle in the intellect, and then a battle in the middos—in chessed and in gevurah, and likewise in all of them. But there is one thing above intellect. There is no battle over that, no battle at all. It is simply above intellect. Have you learned about a shadow and the shadow of a shadow in relation to demons? Have you learned that? Hm? Have you learned it or not? Tell me. It is in the Gemara, in Berachos. [unclear] The Gemara says that they have a shadow. A “bavua” is a shadow. But the Gemara speaks not just of a shadow, but of the shadow of a shadow. What does that mean? A shadow and the shadow of a shadow in relation to demons. But that was said about the mundane realm; that much is clear. There is an inner faculty, a makif, and a makif of a makif. But you know this, don’t you? There is nefesh, ruach, neshamah, chayah and yechidah. Do you know that or not? Hm? Have you learned it? We’ll look inside. Chayah is the nearer makif; yechidah is the more distant makif. The inner faculties are within the body, while chayah is a makif, the nearer makif, and so on. But the shadow of a shadow in relation to demons—there are things like this in a Jew: such faith, simple faith, a connection with Hakadosh Boruch Hu above every intellectual insight, above all such matters. There, debate has no place. When is debate possible? When one is dealing with what is

06:13 Speaker 1 subject to an argument. When the animal soul makes claims based on calculation and reason, there can be a debate. The G-dly soul says one thing, and the animal soul says another. One makes a claim. The G-dly soul says, “You don’t agree?” The animal soul says, “No.” “On what grounds?” The G-dly soul says, “Because of fear, because of awe of Hakadosh Boruch Hu,” and so on. Here there is debate, and here there is a battle. But when a Jew is truly illuminated by love for Hakadosh Boruch Hu—what does it say in Tanya? That a Jew has a natural love for Hakadosh Boruch Hu, an immense connection without any calculation. Even the least worthy Jew has this. And although it may come through faith, when a Jew reveals this point, there are no claims there, no debate. Tanya says—if you remember the wording—“without any reason, claim or counterclaim.” What do “claim and counterclaim” mean? Sometimes there is a claim, and there is a counterclaim, an answer to the claim. That is when we are speaking about other faculties, faculties that operate according to reason, or even somewhat above it but still within its reach. There can be a claim and a counterclaim, another claim and another counterclaim. The answer may sometimes be very strong, but it is still a question and an answer. The text sometimes says “claim and counterclaim.” That interpretation is also a very good one, a new interpretation. That is fine; you can say it this way or that way and show how it helps. But all this concerns the realm of seven, not the realm of eight. In other words, it concerns matters within the bounds of the world. In the realm of seven—things within the world’s limits—there is room for this. So

08:50 Speaker 1 they say that there is a capacity for this in holiness and a capacity for it in kelipah. Even when he proves his case—brings overwhelming proof that the other side has no justification, that it has nothing to stand on, and that the truth lies only in holiness—still, someone can say, “There is room to put it this way, and there is room to put it that way.” But when we come to matters of another kind, that is not how it works. It is not a matter of saying this or saying that. The bond between a son and his father is not based on calculations. Why does the son love his father? Because he is his father. And why does the father love his son? Because he is his son. Compare that with someone’s love for a friend, for another person. Why does he love him? Because he sees good qualities in him. Say Reuven loves Shimon. Why? Reuven and Shimon are two different people; Reuven knows Shimon’s good qualities. Then someone comes and speaks lashon hara about Shimon: “You think he’s a good person?” He keeps speaking lashon hara. Reuven rejects it and brings proofs that the lashon hara is false. But in the end, the allegation can still rear its head. Even if Reuven is right, that does not mean there is no difficulty; there is a difficulty. Here, though, with a father and son, it does not even enter the discussion in the first place. He is his son—that is all. He is his father. Arguments have no place here; none of that applies. This is what is meant by [unclear]. There are such things in holiness generally. There, arguments have no place. Before we go further, one of these matters is faith—simple faith. Incidentally, people do not know what faith is. I tell you, some people seize on the words “simple faith, simple faith,” and portray Chabad as though Chabad [unclear]. But they

11:24 Speaker 1 do not know at all what “simple faith” really means. I’ll tell you what it means. The word olam, “world,” is related to he’elem and hester—concealment. What does it mean to say that the world signifies concealment? One could seemingly raise an intellectual question here. There are many proofs—or enough proofs, strong proofs that no one has refuted—that the world did not come into being on its own: there is a Creator, Hakadosh Boruch Hu, Who created it and guides it. There are strong proofs. And all those who supposedly speak in the name of science—none of them has refuted those proofs. [unclear] No one has refuted them, because he knows they are strong proofs. So what does it mean? All right, the world shows that it has an Owner. Why, then, do we say that the world signifies concealment, that it does not reveal Him? From the world, it is understood that G-d exists. Why? It is very simple. There are two ways we can know something: intellectual knowledge and sight. What is the difference? It is very simple. When we say that a person knows something, what do we mean? There is a connection between the person and the thing. What does it mean that he knows it? It means a connection between the person who knows and the thing that is known. What is that connection primarily based on—on the person himself, or on the thing? When a person has an intellectual proof, he does not see the thing itself. The thing is hidden; it is not directly known. So what does he know? He knows something else, and through reasoning he concludes that the thing must exist. When he sees it, he needs no proofs. The thing is revealed. That is the difference between darkness and light. When light shines on something, you see it. It is simple: this table, and the house in which we are sitting—everyone understands that this house did not fall from the sky.

14:10 Speaker 1 There was certainly a person, a builder, who built the house. That is clear to everyone. What does that mean? Did we see this builder? No. The builder has left. We see a house, and the house proves that there was a builder. We do not see the builder himself. But if the builder reveals himself—here, here he is—the distance between the two is enormous. Our proof that there was a builder is very strong, beyond any doubt. But in the end, it is reasoning. It is a proof, arrived at according to the rules of logic: since there is a house, there must have been a builder. Who knows? Perhaps a great thinker will come along and refute it. So far, no one has refuted it. It is a strong proof. But in the end, [unclear]. I do not actually know; I have arrived at a proof. When I see him, the matter is revealed before me. And that is the difference between a Jew’s faith and all the philosophical arguments and investigations that even the sages of the nations could understand. Hashem created the world in such a way that it is a “world”—an olam, from the word for concealment. What does it mean that the world conceals? Hashem created it so that it appears to be something separate, concealing the light. Still, by reasoning and ordinary logic, could the world have come into being on its own? Certainly Hashem created it. Certainly someone created it. A non-Jew can reach that conclusion too. A Jew has a G-dly soul. Hashem gave him a G-dly soul, and that soul sees Hashem; it sees Him and feels Him. Since it is a soul that sees Him

16:34 Speaker 1 and feels Him, it does not need proofs. It feels this. That is the meaning of faith, of simple faith. The Rebbe even said several times that, for us, the certainty of faith is greater than the certainty of sight. When a person sees something, that is the greatest certainty. Yet the Rebbe said that the certainty of sight does not reach the certainty of a Jew’s simple faith. The Rebbe once spoke about why the answers of the Rishonim are so brief—a half page is already long—while the answers of the Acharonim can be very lengthy. [Unclear.] He gave an analogy. There was a blind man who was in a house and wanted to leave. He could not see where the door was, so he felt his way along the wall, feeling and feeling until he found an opening; then he would know the door was there. He went along, feeling the wall, and suddenly felt an opening. Well, it turned out not to be the door, and he could not get out. What had happened? It was a window, and he had not known it. Afterward, he worked out that the opening was only higher up; lower down, there was no opening. Why was there an opening only above and not below? He concluded that it was a window, not a door, and that was why the opening was only above. He went farther along the wall, feeling his way, and found another opening. So that he would not make the same mistake this time, he now did what we might call scientific work—scientific research. He bent down and felt all the way to the floor. There was an opening all the way down. Since it went all the way to the floor, that was a sign that it was not

19:23 Speaker 1 a window. If it had been a window, the opening would have been only above, not below. Since it went all the way to the floor, it must be a door. He tried to leave, but he could not. What had happened? It was a cupboard. He had reached the edge of the cupboard, so there really was an opening all the way down, but he could not get out. Eventually he found the door. By then he had accumulated several signs and proofs: it could not be a window, it could not be a cupboard, and it could not be anything else. He had to conclude that it was the door. That is how it is for a blind person. A sighted person does not need all these calculations; he sees. He immediately knows that this is a window. He does not have to feel whether the opening is above and not below. He sees that it is a window, not a door. He sees the cupboard, and he sees the door. That is the point—[unclear]. He said this in that connection as well. Hashem gave a Jew the ability to experience a revelation of G-dliness. He feels faith; he does not need all these calculations. It is like sight—and, as we said, even more certain than sight—but we will not go into that now. This is what faith is. This is where everyone makes a mistake. [Unclear.] What does faith mean? People think faith is the weakest thing: a person does not know, has not seen, does not understand, and has no proofs. He merely believes. That is how people think of it. What does “believes” mean? If he knows, he has proofs; otherwise, he believes. But what we have just heard about faith is precisely the opposite: it is the strongest thing. It is not merely that his calculations work out; he

21:48 Speaker 1 sees the matter. The Rebbe explained this. But what interests us here is why we need [unclear]. Here is something interesting that you can test for yourselves. Someone once told me this, and I thought it was true; I saw it and wanted to test it. I had many opportunities to be among other circles. It is hard to speak with people outside Chabad about this. [Unclear.] You ask, “How do you really know that Hashem exists?” Well, what do you think—that the world came into being yesterday? Do you know what “simple faith” means to him? That is what it means: he is making a calculation. Why, then, is it called simple faith? Because it is a quick calculation. Some calculations require elaborate reasoning; this one is straightforward. But as I told you earlier with the analogy of the house, it does not require extensive reasoning. Everyone readily understands how the house came to be. It did not fall from the sky; it was built. But that is still a calculation. Some calculations take a great deal of thought, and some are quick. In any case, let us return to our subject. In a person’s avodah—in his connection with Hashem and with the fulfillment of mitzvos—there are two aspects: the zayin and the ches. The zayin concerns things within the bounds of the world. In matters within those bounds, one can make a calculation, [unclear]. Here the calculation is not as quick as with a house. People can come and argue this way or that way. In the end, one can say one thing or another, [unclear]. Someone offers a proof, a very good proof. [Unclear.] But this is the power of reasoning.

24:36 Speaker 1 These are still things within the bounds of the world. And here, too, there are several levels, several kinds of matters: chesed, gevurah, [unclear], and the thirty-nine labors. Even Shabbos, a holy day, is included in the seven days of Creation; it is included in this. There is another matter, [unclear]. It is an altogether different kind of matter, something that from the outset is not bound by the limits of the world, and it exists only in the G-dly soul. We have not heard of such a thing [unclear]. But then what does it mean when Tanya says “without any reason or understanding”? No—there is no reason or understanding here, no argument [unclear]. If so, a major question seems to arise: why do I need all this? Just say [unclear]. Simple faith [unclear]. Why do we need all these other matters? Tanya [unclear]. So learn that, and that is that. Later, in chapter 18, it says [unclear]. How can that be? [Unclear.] But he has this awareness through the hidden love. Who knew that? So if that is the case, let us start with chapter 18. Why do we need to study everything up to chapter 18? Let us start with chapter 18. This question can really be put in several different ways, but that is the point. In essence, this was the debate between the Alter Rebbe and the other disciples of the Maggid. But we will get to that.

27:09 Speaker 1 When it comes to Chabad: Why? Who needs Chabad? Who needs all these things? There are things one could say. I was once at a yeshiva; there was someone there. But now, [unclear]. He described how, among them, they tell stories poking fun at Chabad. What kind of story? There was a great tzaddik in Cherkov, a great man, a holy man. The Rebbe of Cherkov was a holy man. Many Rebbes never said Torah at all, and some did say Torah, but they would just tell stories without explaining them. The main thing was that people saw the true tzaddikim as great people; they simply saw their holiness. You surely know the story about the Alter Rebbe and Rabbi Shlomo of Karlin. Do you or don’t you? Huh? Don’t say any—what? You don’t know? So immersed in learning that you don’t even know the famous stories? Learning is certainly important, but still, you need to know the more famous stories. There was a disagreement between the Alter Rebbe and Rabbi Shlomo of Karlin, and one of their differences concerned the verse, “And the righteous person shall live by his faith.” The Karliner said: “Not ‘shall live,’ but ‘shall give life.’” What does it mean that the righteous person “shall give life by his faith”? You know, people have faith in the tzaddik, in the holy tzaddik, and believe in him. He gives life; he brings vitality into the world. And that really was how it worked. They found a tzaddik to be their Rebbe and saw his avodah. They did not understand its meaning, and he did not explain it to them; it was not possible to explain it. But simply seeing the tzaddik and believing in him—the faith itself uplifted them, raised them up, and gave them vitality. That is “the righteous person shall give life by his faith.” So—

30:21 Speaker 1 The Rebbe said that this is not enough. The Rebbe also has to explain, and people have to understand, and so on. Yes, what had you started to tell? Right. So he told one of the stories they tell to poke fun at Chabad. Once, at Reb Moshe’s—what was his name? He was even a Rebbe’s son—there was one of the great chassidim. A Chabad chossid was there one Shabbos, Parshas Terumah. I don’t remember how he came to be there. There was a Chabad chossid at Reb Moshe’s tish—that is what they called it, a tish. So Reb Moshe said, “Terumah has the letters of terumah—tarmach.” They took in the Rebbe’s words, that “Terumah” was “tarmach,” and went off to dance. There was tremendous uplift—“the righteous person shall give life by his faith”—and they danced over “Terumah.” The Chabad chossid asked, “What does ‘tarmach’ mean? What is ‘tarmach’?” And the other man said, “That’s Chabad for you. What difference does it make to you whether it’s tarmach or tarmav? The Rebbe said ‘Terumah, tarmach,’ so the Rebbe said it.”

32:16 Speaker 1 At first glance, it seems like a joke, but it is not a joke. From their perspective, given the whole approach they had been brought up with, the Chabad chossid’s question was laughable. It expressed the complete contrast between the two approaches. But the Alter Rebbe was right. What does Chabad mean? Chabad is not [unclear]; it means learning, understanding, making an effort, and all that. So who needs it? What for? Isn’t the world good as it is? [unclear] from alef to zayin. Who needs the zayin? Let it be alef, specifically alef. Who needs the zayin? They tell a story about two chassidim, two good friends. One was a Chabad chossid, a chossid of the Alter Rebbe, and the other was a chossid of Rabbi Chaim of Amdur, who was also one of the Maggid’s students. Although each followed his own Rebbe, they were good friends, and each recognized the greatness of the other’s Rebbe as well. But, of course, each conducted himself according to his own Rebbe’s guidance. Every day before davening, the Alter Rebbe’s chossid would prepare: he would study a sefer, then contemplate, and do various other things. The chossid of Rabbi Chaim prepared differently. His Rebbe told him [unclear]; it was not a matter of studying Chassidus. For the Alter Rebbe’s chossid, the basic principle was that a person is not a machine. You cannot be the same every day. You need contemplation. You study and contemplate, and sometimes you feel what you are contemplating more, sometimes less, and sometimes you do not feel it at all. A person is not a machine. There were days when his contemplation succeeded and he felt it, and then he truly davened. His davening was real davening, with refinement—

35:12 Speaker 1 —great enthusiasm, and so on. And there were days when it was not like that. His friend was different. Since it was not an inward process of contemplation and all that, it became more like a machine: he would recall a saying of his Rebbe—“tarmach”—and off they would go to dance. The Alter Rebbe’s chossid noticed that his friend davened with great warmth every day, whereas for him it varied from day to day. It bothered him and weighed on him. So he came to the Alter Rebbe and told him about his friend, who davened with warmth every day. He put it this way: “Er brent”—“He is burning.” But the Alter Rebbe told him: “Er brent? R’ Chaim brent.” “He is burning? Reb Chaim is burning.” It was not the chossid himself who was burning; it was Reb Chaim. We want the person himself to be involved. That is the point in everything: inwardness is the foundation, the foundation of Chabad. Chabad itself. There are particular aspects of [unclear] the Rebbe, particular aspects of [unclear]. There is a story about Tel Aviv. There was a fellow there with a smile. He had the sort of smile with which he could win over thousands of people. It was very appealing, but he did not want to use it. He wanted it to be genuine and inward. Not just, no, no—you use a smile. [unclear]

38:04 Speaker 2 …

00:17 And here we need to clarify something. At first glance, one might think: this has an advantage, and that has an advantage. We’ve already understood that there is the alef and there is the nun. Certainly there is an advantage when something is connected to the intellect, to thinking things through. Then it is internalized. Otherwise, it may pass through a person—geit iber—but it isn’t really him. This way it becomes internalized; it connects with the animal soul and with the person’s intellect as well. But that takes thought and internal work; it takes study. It takes a great deal of work. On the other hand, it doesn’t have the same holiness or the same certainty as when a person’s virtue is absolute. There, the light is great. Here, the light has already been constricted and dried out by calculations, arguments, and counterarguments. Yes, there is a great advantage to it. It is connected to [unclear], but there is a problem with it. So one might think that each has its own advantage. But that isn’t right. Chassidus—and this began already with the Rebbe—wasn’t called Chabad Chassidus for nothing. It is the same undertaking that the Baal Shem Tov began: revealing light. The Baal Shem Tov began to reveal this light, a light beyond the bounds of creation, beyond the bounds of the world. This found expression in many things. The Baal Shem Tov spoke a great deal about simple Jews, cherished them, and spoke of the greatness of their faith. Why was that? When the Baal Shem Tov began drawing simple people close and cherishing them, people had serious questions about it. Many saw it as a slight to the honor of Torah and to Torah scholars. In other words, they saw only the alef; they did not sense the nun. The Baal Shem Tov began to reveal the light of the soul, the greatness of the soul, and the faith of simple people. A Jew could keep Torah and mitzvos and not

03:02 know the meaning of the words. He said that there were even people who had to search for the meaning of a single word. Nevertheless, they are precious to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, [unclear]. That is connected to something higher, not to understanding. The Baal Shem Tov revealed a light—he began with a light that was somewhat beyond the levels of creation. What did the Rebbe do? He didn’t take [unclear]; he took the alef and brought it down into the hei. That is the entire innovation within Chabad’s innovation. Two things were brought together here. Two things were brought together: the boundless, which is beyond the bounds of creation, would penetrate a person’s understanding and connect with the animal soul. What would penetrate here? The higher matters. That is true throughout Chabad. And Chabad itself expanded over the generations, right up to our generation. This is already the final preparation, the very last preparation the Rebbe made for the coming of Moshiach. So here the two things are brought together in their fullest expression. In one of the maamarim, it says—the Rebbe said there… No, no, no, I’ll move on. Just one line. There are mitzvos that were drawn down into reason, and mitzvos that are above reason. The Rebbe says something fundamental: in essence, the basis of every mitzvah is the will of Hakadosh Boruch Hu, which is above reason. But afterward it… In general, there are mitzvos for which a reason is given. And in general, even when we speak of a Torah mitzvah and its reason, both are above, in Heaven; the reason lies in Hashem’s wisdom. The distinction is that even after a mitzvah has been drawn down into reason, you can still sense that, in essence, it is above reason. So the Rebbe expounded on the verse, “Remember the Torah of Moshe My servant.” What is the significance of the Torah being called by Moshe’s name? What difference does it make that the Torah came through Moshe Rabbeinu?

06:02 What is the connection? The Rebbe said that Moshe was, in the fullest sense, “My servant.” Since Moshe was “My servant,” the verse says, “the Torah of Moshe My servant.” So even when it comes into reason—are you listening? This is remarkable—even when it comes into the realm of reason and wisdom, because it is the Torah of Moshe My servant, that wisdom does not conceal the will behind the mitzvah. This is written in the Midrash. It is a remarkable thing. In other words, what emerges from the Midrash is this: if we could imagine the Torah coming into the world through someone other than Moshe—what would that mean? We are talking about great wisdom, and yet it would have somewhat concealed what is above it. A person can be very wise, and the yetzer hara can entice him, particularly through wisdom. With all the greatness of wisdom, even as he studies, he is standing before the essence—and nevertheless. But since it is the Torah of Moshe My servant, Moshe’s Torah, the wisdom in that Torah does not conceal it. I once studied part of this maamar at [unclear]. A Jew there asked me: What does this mean? After all, since it comes through wisdom, one would expect [unclear]. I don’t know all the details, but I’ll tell you what happened. This holy Jew had gone through a period of [unclear], with questions, objections, and doubts. Then, when he drew somewhat closer to the Rebbe, he asked several times for yechidus with the Rebbe. All his questions and doubts were answered, and [unclear]. He studied a great deal of Likkutei Sichos. What? Tell me this: where else are the fundamental matters of Yiddishkeit explained and discussed so clearly? Nowhere as they are in Likkutei Sichos. I mean, they are discussed and clarified so thoroughly on an intellectual level.

09:04 So tell me, what does that give a person? Does it give him only intellectual understanding and clarity, or something more? What else is added? We’ll come back to faith in a moment. You see, this is what “the Torah of Moshiach” means. On one hand, it is a power—not just the power of any tzaddik. There can be great tzaddikim who did not have this power. It was the power of the Rebbe’s Torah, of the later Rebbeim, and particularly of the Rebbe. What power? The special power to bring together these two aspects of the Torah of Moshiach. How do you bring out faith? How do you arrive at genuine kabbolas ol, at accepting the yoke of Heaven? By fighting against yourself. So what do you do? You restrain your eyes, close your eyes, restrain your ears and all your senses, and begin to try. In this way, a Jew can be observant as he should be, with simple faith, without any reason or understanding. It is terribly hard. Or [unclear]. That is one path. Another path was to feel the plain truth and awaken the soul. And there is a second path: to explain and to study. But then something in particular is missing: its light, the light of truth, is missing. What does Moshiach mean? What does Moshiach mean? Moshiach is the future, but with Moshiach, is this concealed or internalized? What is internalized? What shines within? This point, this utterly unbounded point, without any limitations or any reason or understanding, also enters reason and understanding. What do we gain through reason and understanding? Something that is beyond reason. And this is the final step, the most fundamental revelation before the coming of Moshiach. What is Moshiach? What will

11:52 Moshiach be? This is Moshiach: “The glory of Hashem will be revealed, and all flesh will see.” On one hand, “the glory of Hashem will be revealed”—the most fundamental revelation, the glory of Hashem without any limitations. On the other hand, it will not only be the glory of Hashem revealed in a way that accords with the world. In the language of Chassidus, there is memalei and there is sovev: “He fills all worlds” and “He encompasses all worlds.” The glory of Hashem is without limit, and together with that, “all flesh will see.” They will not be two separate things; they will be one. So when this light began to glimmer… “I’ve already gone on vacation,” he tells me. “That’s enough already,” he tells me. So what? It interrupts the class a little. So what? [unclear] the same Torah? That is a whole subject. And it is not only that. But the point is the purpose of the light. It cannot be compared to Shabbos. Shabbos is Shabbos; Friday is Friday, not Shabbos. But there is already a glow of Shabbos on Friday. The wording of the Zohar is precise: one tastes every Shabbos dish—every Shabbos dish. And so, as we approach the Geulah, Shabbos is the thing itself. But as we come toward the Geulah, there is a foretaste of the holiness of Shabbos. So the Baal Shem Tov, on Friday, before Shabbos, [unclear]. Then a more inward light of Shabbos began to glimmer. And the closer Shabbos came, the brighter that light shone, more and more. And you receive it, and receive it, until [unclear]. By the way, there is a story—or a parable—that people tell. Once, a man walked from one town to another. He left one town. In those days there were no electric streetlights, okay? There were no electric streetlights, and there was no electricity either

15:23 At home. There was no electricity at all. Electricity. There were kerosene lamps in the houses, and those lamps gave light; a little of the light from the lamps in the houses reached the street too. A person was walking from one town to another. In the town, the light from the houses lit his way. The farther he went from the town, the darker it became. He went farther, and it became darker. Farther still, and darker still. He kept walking farther away, and suddenly it grew light. Farther on, it grew lighter still. What happened? Something simple: he had moved away from the first town, but he was getting closer to the second. So the light from the second town began to reach him. So they say [unclear], what [unclear] said at the time. After the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash, until the completion of the Gemara, [unclear]; afterward, even that was no longer there. Then suddenly the Zohar was revealed, the holy Arizal. Suddenly there was the Kabbalah of the Ramak, the Arizal, then the Baal Shem Tov, and so on. So he gave this analogy: we moved away from the First Beis Hamikdash and the Second, but the light of the Third began to shine. So, especially on the eve of Shabbos, and particularly in this very last period, the preparation is greatest. This is the meaning of the Torah of Moshiach. We study it, but apart from all the daily study of Rambam that one needs to do, and all those connections and matters—apart from that altogether—a Jew should have real knowledge and a true outlook, a Jewish outlook. What does a true Jewish outlook mean? It means that two things come together: the greatest, strongest certainty, beyond reason and understanding, and at the same time, clarity in the mind as well. What knowledge is now internalized, deeply absorbed? A true Jewish outlook will be deeply absorbed: Torah, mitzvos, what Torah is, what the world is, what accepting the covenant means. So it is simply essential—

17:54 To learn more, as much as possible. Not to study lightly, just to get through it. Each person according to his level—older bochurim, younger bochurim—but each one according to his level should study, study what is written in the maamarim. With that knowledge, he will begin to see everything differently, to see it as it truly is. What does the creation of man mean? What is the world? What is Torah? What is a mitzvah? What are the laws of creation? What is Moshiach? What are we waiting for? To look at these things. And one has to study. And “study” means study. Rashi here taught the meaning of learning without interruption—learning means learning. Just as it sounds. And this, of course, is Torah [unclear]. On the one hand, it is Torah that takes effort. He said, “Nowhere are we cautioned as much as in the laws of purity.” And at the same time, what does it strengthen? It shapes a person and brings light; it illuminates the soul here. It illuminates his soul. What did an hour of Torah study do?

01:24 Speaker 1 This is not for nothing. I’m not looking to get into explanations or anything... But it isn’t that he was suddenly given some power. It’s not a power; it’s in the student. I’ve already told the bochurim a number of times. And... they say that when [unclear], the soul is revealed. Kaddish, Shema. The advice is connected with judgment. This isn’t just some... it isn’t a matter of power, even tremendous power. It’s not power. A person like that is completely connected with Hakadosh Boruch Hu. He also represents Hakadosh Boruch Hu. So he can do it. It doesn’t say that he knows this; that isn’t the point. It’s about giving every Jew this point, giving all Jews the connection to the soul, to that moment of his soul. What do we have to do with Moshe Rabbeinu, as we discussed? There’s a book, a book called Shvil HaHaga’ah. Its author was also one of the very late authorities. He has notes on the Gemara, including on the Gemara in Chullin. There’s the work Melo Haro’im. So he compiled Melo Haro’im. He also compiled Kehillas Yaakov. Kehillas Yaakov is arranged by concepts in Kabbalah, drawing on the Arizal and the Baal Shem Tov. He was one of the very late authorities. He already cites things from the end of the twelfth century. It’s interesting that in Chabad they don’t cite everything. This Kabbalah book is cited in Chabad maamarim and... it’s cited many times in the seforim, many times. One of the things brought in Kehillas Yaakov is this: “Nasi—the initials of ‘a spark of Yaakov Avinu.’” Why Yaakov? They say it is a spark of Yaakov. From Avraham came Yishmael, and the holiness did not penetrate there. The same with Yitzchak: Esav came from him, and with Esav it did not. So although they are involved with kindness, he was not a true son; he came from him—after all the explanations. But in the end,

06:37 Speaker 1 in the end, to put it in Chassidic terms, he was his offspring. And nevertheless, it did not penetrate there. In other words, there is a place where it penetrated and a place where it did not. What did the Rebbe say about Yaakov Avinu? There is no such thing. Anything connected with Yaakov Avinu—the holiness penetrates there. What does that mean? About this they say, “[unclear].” What does that mean? It means that something connected with the Rebbe—just think about it—cannot be merely external. No, there is nothing external about it. That is his connection. So this is a matter of penetrating and descending, reaching all the way to the very end. Sometimes you see it sooner, sometimes you see it later, but that is where it is going. Really, this is somewhat connected with what we discussed earlier. There is the concept of something internal, something encompassing, and something that envelops. What is the difference? We say “internal,” we say “encompassing,” we say... As we discussed earlier, this is all one subject. There is the internal and there is the encompassing. Along the lines of what we discussed earlier, there is intellect and there is the soul above. Intellect is internal. But what? It is very limited. When a teacher teaches a student—what is the difference? The teacher teaches the student, but the Rebbe explains the difference. Put simply, there is a difference between understanding and light. The difference is this: when the teacher teaches the student, the student begins to understand. His connection with the teacher is internal. What does “internal” mean? He begins to understand differently than he did before. His mind matures, and it enters into him. When a light shines, light is something beyond understanding. He doesn’t understand it; he doesn’t grasp it. It isn’t him. It only shines upon him. Otherwise, it is a flash of insight. Chabad is something internal,

09:20 Speaker 1 something inward. The other thing, on the contrary, is above him. This teaches us about the internal as compared with the encompassing. It is somewhat internal, but the other way around. The internal is very limited, because it comes according to the capacity of the student’s vessels as the teacher teaches him. There is an advantage in the fact that the student himself understands, but the disadvantage is that it is very limited. It has to be limited according to the capacity of the student’s vessels. And the advantage and disadvantage go together: the advantage of the internal comes through its limitation, through its being condensed. The more it is condensed, the deeper inside it enters. So all these things apply both to the internal and to the encompassing. It is relevant—it isn’t relevant to say that this is the attribute of... that it could be Yosef. With the internal, the thing is internalized in the vessels. But because it is so limited, what reaches down below is already condensed. It no longer has the power of what is above. It has already been limited to your capacity. [Unclear.] Again, we won’t go into these subjects at length now, of course, because this isn’t a class. In any event, this concerns Yaakov Avinu and the attribute of Yaakov Avinu. This is also one of the things they say: Yaakov’s attribute is the attribute of truth. What is truth? Emes. The word emes has three letters: alef, mem, tav. Alef is the beginning of the alef-beis, mem is the middle of the alef-beis, and tav is the end of the alef-beis. It is something that is there from the beginning, through the middle, to the end. Things that come from the very essence penetrate and descend all the way, all the way to the end. And this is something that the Rebbe... There are presumably bochurim here who were around before Gimmel Tammuz. Those who merited to be there and saw the Rebbe should cherish that from time to time, and, as much as possible, remember it and picture it—

12:00 Speaker 1 picture the situation they remember, each person whatever he remembers. The very act of recalling what one saw is a great thing. But for those born afterward, who weren’t here—even those born afterward—it is the same now in this respect. When I say the same thing, I don’t mean the same idea—I mean the same person. This is not something abstract. On the contrary, I once saw, for example, a sicha for Yud Shvat—I don’t remember which one... The Rebbe spoke about Yud Shvat, about the Frierdiker Rebbe. I’ll tell you something that came up regarding Yud Shvat. When the Frierdiker Rebbe left Russia—I don’t remember—when the Rebbe left Russia, what happened? It is very difficult to understand. Not difficult—it is impossible to understand within the bounds of human reason, if you look at it within the ordinary bounds of this world. The Frierdiker Rebbe left Russia on Isru Chag, in 5688. 5688. When did communism fall? When was that? When was it? [Unclear], I don’t remember. In any case, over a long, long period, for three generations, he raised children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren who were G-d-fearing, wholehearted chassidim, connected with all their hearts. I’ll give you one example. [Unclear] Sholom. When they left Russia, it was around those years before the Second World War. When the Rebbe left Russia, the head of the family was still a small child, so he had never seen the Rebbe. When they left Russia, there was an opportunity to write to the Rebbe, so he wrote to the Frierdiker Rebbe. I don’t know exactly how he put it... He wrote that the Rebbe did not know him, and explained who he was and so on. Then the Rebbe answered him.

15:42 Speaker 1 What does that mean? The Rebbe took note of that point and wrote him a general blessing, saying: “I know him very well, and all his friends, from all the chadarim they attended.” That is what the Rebbe wrote. And we need to know—the truth is, let’s put it this way: if the Rebbe spoke on Yud Shvat and compared the matter of Yud Shvat to what happened when the Frierdiker Rebbe left Russia in 5688, and it was accepted as such, then certainly we can understand it that way now. After all, it says, “The shepherds of Israel will not part from the flock they tend.” All of that is true. By the way, we also mustn’t confuse two concepts. There is what Tanya says in Igeres Hakodesh, in a well-known letter there: “A tzaddik who has passed away is present more than during his lifetime.” That is one matter. There is also the statement, “The shepherds of Israel will not part from the flock they tend,” as it is written, and that is another matter. What Tanya says—“A tzaddik who has passed away is present more than during his lifetime”—is said of every tzaddik, not necessarily a leader of the Jewish people; he could simply have been a tzaddik. As Tanya explains there, this is because the life of a tzaddik is a spiritual life: faith, awe, and love. That is what Tanya says about spiritual life. It is a different matter. The “more than during his lifetime” applies in all the worlds; that is a different matter. Then there is the statement, “The shepherds of Israel will not part from the flock they tend.” That is yet another matter: as a shepherd of Israel, he tends to their needs. And this itself—even if, say, the Rebbe of Lubavitch was also a shepherd of Israel, and “the shepherds of Israel will not part from the flock they tend”—that is true, but in the end he left a son after him. He left a son, and the leadership was passed on to his son. Certainly that, too, does not mean... but nevertheless...

18:37 Speaker 1 Even then, the same thing would have come out of it. He handed over the leadership as though it were his own home. Now it is certainly much more than that—not just much more. If I had another expression, I would use it, something stronger than “much more.” Now it is exactly the same as when the Rebbe was there, only he is in heaven. A little farther away than Russia is from America—not quite as far as earth is from heaven, but a little farther. So the distance is greater, but as far as the essence of the matter is concerned, it is exactly the same person. We need to know that this person thinks about us, thinks about every Jew. I’m not talking about... In no other generation was it so prominent and so clear, how should I put it, that someone simply cares about every single Jew. We never saw that with anyone else. Concern for every Jew—not specifically for chassidim or for Chassidus, but simply for everyone. But that is another matter. I’m not talking about that now. By the way, regarding those who stand under this banner, under the banner of... As the Rebbe wrote then, “I know him and his friends very well.” We need to know this—not just to give us strength or reassurance, but because that is the reality. These are difficult things to grasp, because he is in the loftiest realms, of which we have no conception. But somehow, he thinks about each person, and each person matters to him. He arouses mercy for each one. He thinks about me and worries about me. Someone comes to the Ohel and asks for something, something troubling him, something he lacks, and the Rebbe is distressed by it—simply distressed, deeply distressed. He asks Hakadosh Boruch Hu and arouses mercy for him. And when they later report that the request was graciously fulfilled, he simply takes pleasure in it. Especially... [laughter]

21:48 Speaker 1 about him. But we never go to a grave, G-d forbid. There was no grave there, G-d forbid. No, that is not the point. Not at all. We go to the Rebbe just as we did before. We simply go to a living person. I don’t mean alive in the physical sense. Those are two different things. But he is truly a person, with real feeling, real sorrow, real pleasure, and things matter to him. He cares. Simply a person. Of course, the situation is not good; that goes without saying. This is not what we want, and this is not what we are waiting for. We are waiting for things to be as they were before. When they were as they were before, of course, it was wonderful. And when Moshiach comes, it will be much better than before. But as long as we are in this situation, we need to know that this is not something abstract. It is something real.

23:50 Speaker 1 And the more connected you are with him, the stronger the connection becomes—quite simply, stronger. You want to give him nachas, in every sense. A connection expresses itself in many ways. One thing expresses an important part of that connection. L’chaim, l’chaim. One thing that expresses a connection: with a father, or with another person, there are things a person is embarrassed to talk about. They aren’t secrets, but there are personal things, as people say, that one doesn’t talk about. It is hard to speak about them. But with a very good friend, a close friend, he will say even things that he would never discuss openly. Still, there are things that are even more personal, which are hard to discuss even with a close friend. But with your father, you can speak more freely. Tell me, what do you think? There are such things. When a Jew entered yechidus, he was completely openhearted. What does “openhearted” mean? There was nothing held back. Would you say, “Only up to this point”? No. Openhearted means completely openhearted. Here you can say everything. Why? Because you felt you weren’t speaking to someone else. You were speaking to someone very close. You understand whom you are speaking about. Do you understand or not? Tell me. Hm? What? Impressive. This is what it means when a Jew entered yechidus. You speak about the Rebbe; you have heard that the Rebbe is Moshe Rabbeinu, Moshiach, Atik. It is all true—Moshe Rabbeinu, Atik, Moshiach. But when people say “Moshe Rabbeinu, Moshiach, Atik,” I don’t know what that means. They are just words to me. I don’t know what Moshe Rabbeinu is, I don’t know what Moshiach is; I know what Atik is. Here I am speaking simply as a person, on a human level. I know there are things I did not speak about with other people.

27:28 Speaker 1 Why? Because it is hard to speak about such things with another person. But with a good friend, a close friend of mine, I can speak about them. And that gives the relationship a solid footing. When a Jew entered the Rebbe’s room, he felt: here is a person who is genuinely interested. He is not a stranger. What happens to you matters to him, and he cares. And you speak—it isn’t something... You look at me and think, “Is that how you speak about the Rebbe? It’s too physical. You should speak about spirituality, at least about the concepts that come before this.” True, the concepts come before this. But I am speaking about a great person, simply as a person, someone with whom one had a human connection. It is an inner feeling: the feeling that he cares about you, that what happens to you truly matters to him. And if something causes you pain, he feels that pain. He simply asks Hakadosh Boruch Hu for mercy. And that same person is now exactly as he was before. It is a matter of feeling, of feeling. It isn’t... How does one come to feel this? There are no formulas or segulos for it. No segulos. There is just one way: the more you reflect on and recognize this reality—that this person cares about what happens to you—the more you will come to feel it. He has never seen you. I told you before: it is exactly as the previous Rebbe wrote to that Jew, “I know him and all his friends very well.” He thinks about each person, and each person matters to him. I have described this on a human level, not as... no, no... How can a person be like that? Certainly, if it were merely... it could not be otherwise. That is certain; I understand that. And each of us needs to... And we are waiting for the Rebbe to come into the room any moment now,

30:30 Speaker 1 for us to meet him, to truly meet him, to see him. And of course this is connected with the Geulah. It will be even better than before, of course. This is very much connected with passing this on to the fellows, to those who are devoted to him. There needs to be a certain approach. You can’t write a Shulchan Aruch for everything. What should one do? Do this? Do that? You can’t write a Shulchan Aruch for everything. These are things that... You need to know that this is the reality. That is, you need to learn a great deal. And it is worthwhile to study the sichos the Rebbe delivered in 5710. What did the Rebbe say in those sichos? That nothing would change and everything would remain the same. That is what the Rebbe said. On the simple level, the Rebbe spoke about such matters because he had not accepted the Rebbeship, and he had not accepted the reality of the situation. That is the straightforward meaning. But on a deeper level, after all, he too was there then. Perhaps... perhaps there was also that aspect to it. He did not say that this was his intention. His intention was the straightforward meaning. But those words are very relevant to these matters now. And so... people start arguing about which maamarim to study: the Rebbe’s maamarim, or Rabbi Akiva’s maamarim, or a maamar by

32:51 Speaker 2 .

32:52 Speaker 1 What was I talking about? Why were we talking about this? Forgive me for saying this out loud on Erev Yom Kippur. It’s simple, that’s all. That’s all. There’s a little feeling in it; I’m just not speaking primitively. What is it worth? Here is a person you love—and more importantly, whether or not you love him, you know that he loves you. He cares about the Jewish people as a whole, and about each person in particular. And he explained so many fundamental matters in Judaism, opening our eyes so that we can learn and understand. That, yes, we need. I’ve spoken several times already about [unclear], and today it’s simply impossible to know what Judaism is, what the purpose of the creation of the world is, what the creation of man is, what a miracle is, what Egypt is, what a Jew is, what Moshiach is. Nothing. The Rebbe makes these things clear. And if a person has no feel for it, it’s simply... Here is someone who cares, and you know that this person has given you a complete Torah and complete teachings. And then someone comes along and says, “I’m not interested in learning Gemara. As a chossid, I have to hear that to connect to the Rebbe, I need to study the Rebbe’s teachings.” So he studies in order to connect. You can imagine what kind of connection will come from studying that way. He’s studying, but he didn’t want to; he had no feel for it, no feeling at all. And he studies for the sake of connection. Studies for the sake of connection. But the Rebbe isn’t his guide? What? How could that be? If he’s looking for his purpose in life and things like that—a Jew wants to know his purpose in life—here he has an explanation, maamarim and sichos that clarify what his purpose in life really is. No, knowing his purpose doesn’t interest him. The Rebbe as a guide doesn’t interest him; all that matters is the spiritual matter of connecting. Connecting is a spiritual matter. What kind of connection

35:49 Speaker 1 is there here? So that’s the question of connecting to the Rebbe. You study with the Rebbe. One has to study. There are several aspects to studying; there’s study itself, and there’s learning some of the maamarim by heart. You need to know them by heart. There’s an initial question: exactly how should one study? All right, there are mashpi’im. Each person can ask his mashpia how to study. But...

00:02 On Yom Kippur, some parts of the service were performed in golden garments and some in white garments. Which parts were done in golden garments, and which in white? On Yom Kippur, there were services performed throughout the year as well. They were not unique to Yom Kippur; they were done all year, and on Yom Kippur too. Those were done in golden garments. But the parts unique to Yom Kippur—the service of the day—were done in white garments. So the question is: What is the meaning of the golden garments? Are they merely something external? The Rebbe would speak about this in [unclear]. In the early days, this was the custom; it happened a number of times. [unclear] That was a little digression. Back to our subject: What is the meaning of the golden garments? If they are merely something external, entirely superficial, then it would not be fitting for the service in the Beis Hamikdash throughout the year to consist of mere symbols, external symbols. In other words, this is beauty—genuine beauty. Beauty of [unclear]. What does it mean? And why not on Yom Kippur? After all, it is beautiful, and the Rambam writes that the Beis Hamikdash should be [unclear] in golden garments. Yom Kippur is the most important day. Yet it specifically requires white garments. Why? The Rebbe explains this from a general perspective: What are golden garments, and what are white garments, in a person’s avodah? It is a good, logical question. What shines and looks beautiful—we are not speaking here of something superficial. It is truly inward too, but it is still external. What does “external” mean? It is what a person studies, understands and contemplates. That is certainly inward avodah, but in relation to the levels of the soul, it is

02:42 external. We all understand that. What is a person’s intellect? Ultimately, a person’s intellect is not the person himself. It is not his very self. Today he understands one way; tomorrow he understands differently. It is not bound up with him. When a person sees something in a room at night, what does logic really say? A person can make a calculation: the calculation says one thing, but he sees something else. A simple example: A person enters a house and sees that a room is empty; there is no one in it. He locks the room, the windows are closed, and no one can get in. Logic compels the conclusion—he sees that no one can enter. He leaves the room. Ten minutes later, he unlocks it and goes in. “What am I seeing?” [unclear] What does this mean? He has proof; reason dictates that no one could have entered. What is happening here? He cannot work it out. In the end, what will he say? He will say, “Why are you bothering me with calculations? You give me an answer, but I myself can see.” What does that mean? What does “I myself can see” mean, the Rebbe asks? Within a person’s soul there are layers, levels. Some levels are more external, and some are more inward. The point is very [unclear]: sight occupies a deeper place within a person. A person’s sight reaches much deeper than intellect, and intellectual proofs cannot reach that place. That is why a person says, “You can ask questions and demand logical proofs, saying it cannot be—but I myself saw it.” He does not say, “I myself understood it.” He will not say that; he will say, “I myself saw it.” “I understood” is not “I myself.” “I saw” already means “I myself.” What does that mean? What is he saying? I am not

05:25 talking about exactly the same thing. But the Rebbe explains that this is the meaning of the expression. What does “I myself see” mean? This is also one reason why a Jew’s emunah is so strong and so deep. First of all, we say that a Jew sees. Since a Jew sees, he needs no intellectual calculations at all. He sees the [unclear]. But we say more than that. The Rebbe says that a Jew’s emunah is even stronger than sight. Why? This too can be understood logically. When a person sees something, are the person and the thing he sees ultimately one and the same, or are they two separate things? There is the person, and there is the thing he sees, which existed before he saw it. So the knowledge he gains of that thing through seeing it is still something acquired by him; it has not penetrated to [unclear]. This is what we mean when we say, “I myself saw it.” In other words, everything is relative. When we speak about things that arise within a person, they are not the person himself. Acquired knowledge through the intellect is something entirely external, while sight is closer to the person himself. With acquired things, we call it “I myself,” but it is still not truly “I myself.” But how does a person know that he exists? He does not know it through something else. How does he know he exists? He does not need to prove it logically; he does not need to look at himself. It is his very self. And that is a Jew’s emunah: his bond with Hakadosh Boruch Hu is his very self. The Rebbe spoke about this countless times. Yes, what were we discussing? Intellect is something external. Inward avodah is the idea of the golden garments. Golden garments are beautiful, and that beauty is good. [unclear] A bond with Hakadosh Boruch Hu reaches the level of gold. What is

07:58 white? White has no color. White is not a beautiful color; there is nothing there. True white is like transparency—it has no color. So what is the idea of Yom Kippur? The Kohen Gadol, as the shliach of all the Jewish people, has to awaken the point of yechidah, the point of yechidah that is utterly beyond, completely beyond. But here, on Yom Kippur, when he enters the Kodesh Hakodashim of the Beis Hamikdash—which is connected to the Kodesh Hakodashim deep within a person’s soul—this is the place for white garments. Here, beauty, intellectual calculations and all the colors give way to what is revealed within him through the white garments. But if so, why not wear only white garments on Yom Kippur? What difference does it make? We explained earlier why explanations and intellect are needed, and yet, ultimately, they amount to an argument or an answer. One can spell out the argument, but in the end it is not proof. Who needs it? We learned at the beginning of Tanya, chapters 18 and 19, that every Jew has a natural love, at the very least like a child’s love for his father, without any calculations or contemplation. [unclear] We say: That point must be there, but how should it be there? It has to penetrate the person; it has to be defined so that he is connected to it. This is the idea of Chabad Chassidus: through Chabad, one must define what is entirely beyond [unclear] and bring it into every detail. Otherwise it remains encompassing, not internalized. Listen, it is something very great—certainly something very great. But as Reb Chaim put it, “It burns and it burns.” [unclear] And that is the whole wonder. That is the Rebbe’s strength. With the Rebbeim of Chabad, and within Chabad itself, it has

10:30 developed from generation to generation: to bring the two together—to have that point which is beyond definition, and yet have it return inward, into the person and his particular faculties. [unclear] And this is what we say on Yom Kippur, in the Amidah: “One above and one below.” You already have one—one above—and you need another “one above” connected to something below. “And so he would count.” With [unclear] and niggunim. What is there to sing? A niggun about this, which we sing because we want to be awakened. That is, [unclear]. It is not a joke. [unclear] What does it mean to care? I care. What do I care? By the way, I just remembered that there was—someone was doing teshuvah. No, no, that is not it. No, no, no. What was the [unclear]? Maybe there was. When the Rebbe would tell us to sing the Alter Rebbe’s niggun, he would often say how many times to sing its sections. There was a period when he would say it; [unclear]. In later years he would not say it, but would indicate it with his finger. Usually it was once, but often it was three times, seven times, eight times, even ten times. As chassidim, we understood that these were spiritual matters. Once, in 5749, the Rebbe spoke a great deal about this. I mean, the Rebbe [unclear]. He had such a [unclear]. “One thing have I asked.” They say, “One thing have I asked”—what is its meaning? One, “one thing have I asked,” [unclear]. A Jew’s bond with Hakadosh Boruch Hu: one. And afterward the Rebbe said to sing [unclear]. And [unclear] Yisroel Berl[?]—no, his name was not Berl; he was [unclear]. He looked at the Rebbe like this, waiting for the Rebbe to say how many times, and the Rebbe said to him: “One thing have I asked.” The Rebbe said

13:20 “One thing I have asked.” And the Rebbe said, “One thing I have asked.” In other words, the first thought might be that, simply, you sing it once. Sometimes it’s sung to a special tune. No, the “one” is not incidental. The wording is precise: it has to be one. That, too, is significant. “One thing I have asked.” So what are spiritual matters? We have some understanding of that. Yes, at any rate. So what is the point? They say that the count begins immediately with “one.” This is how they would count: “One.” What is the avodah of Yom Kippur? Teshuvah, teshuvah—in particular on Yom Kippur. You don’t begin with being a Torah scholar or a learned person. They tell of the Rebbe of Shinova, who once said—and it became a Chassidic saying—“All year I understand.” He quotes it: “Today I don’t understand; I don’t understand.” Today I don’t understand; I don’t want to learn. And in practice, they also say “one.” But that “one” must not remain abstract. You can say “one” up in the heavens, and then “one” again. This “one” has to be brought into the sequence of numbers: afterward, “one and one,” “one and two,” “one and three,” all the way to “one and six.” Well, these are lofty concepts of understanding. In other words, connecting the yechidah, giving the yechidah definition through “one,” through “one and two” or “one and three.” We’re speaking of lofty concepts, but in simple terms—what it means for us in practice. What does an older bochur need? He knows what to do with this. And so they would count: “One.” First and foremost, it’s an overall approach. We won’t get into so many details here—this detail and that detail. It means committing oneself more broadly, committing oneself more to... You can think about the details, and you can think about the whole. Each has its place. On the one hand, when you speak about details, you’re speaking about a particular detail, not about the person as a whole. Each specific detail—this detail,

16:52 that detail. Even if you take many details, even if you take all the details, ultimately each individual detail is limited. They tell him: “Take it from the ‘one.’” A broader, more general commitment, and greater acceptance of the yoke of Heaven. Commit yourself more, in an overall way. But the more abstract it is—light, light without vessels—the more it just remains... It might be a surrounding influence, or a still more distant surrounding influence, or it might even be somewhere in between. And it may be [unclear] as a matter of course. So this “one” must ultimately connect with a particular matter: “one and one,” “one and two,” “one and three.” What exactly does that mean? There are no rules for it. What is the “one,” and what is the “three”? It depends on each person’s level and circumstances—but each person according to his level. Do you understand what we’re talking about or not? It applies to each person in the matter of accepting it upon himself. Do you understand or not? And this applies everywhere, especially when you come here. Among chassidim, Kislev always had a special place, particularly Rosh Chodesh. Why Rosh Chodesh specifically? Just as Elul and Rosh Hashanah have significance for the soul. Rosh Hashanah isn’t merely the beginning of the year; it is called the head of the year. And this is also connected with the “head of the Jewish people.” So Kislev as a whole is a kind of Rosh Hashanah. At this point, too, one has to look at [unclear]. It has an overall strength of its own. Everyone wants to be more connected to the Rebbe, without calculations or details. And there are details. The Rebbe said we need the lights of Tohu and the vessels of Tikkun. You can have the vessels of Tikkun and the lights of Tikkun, but that is a small light. We need the lights of Tohu—but the lights of Tohu must be in the vessels of Tikkun. You’re sitting here; you need to learn better, to [unclear]

20:14 [unclear]. And this, too, is with your brother. What are you going to tell me—what...?

00:01 Speaker 1 Sometimes this can happen with a very simple Jew: he hears something entirely different, breaks down, and sheds tears. They say that years ago, there were places where it was written: here you have to cry; here, for at least half an hour; here, for a quarter of an hour. [unclear] Here it is something deeply personal: here, at least half an hour; here, at least a quarter of an hour. There could be Jews like that—and there were Jews like that—who had such depth of soul and were so bound up with kabbolas ol to Hashem that they simply had to cry, and they cried. There was anger there too. And so, [unclear] for half an hour and it will be all right. But those were exceptional people. Generally speaking, though, that is not how it works. You do not tell a person how long to cry, and you do not tell him to cry and cry and cry. What you can do is explain things to him. You can explain what this is about. Then it becomes clear what we are talking about, and it awakens a desire to cry. Yes, it becomes clear what we are talking about, and it awakens a desire to cry. But we have a set wording and a custom for everything, all sorts of things. Not everything can be prescribed exactly. After all, the Rebbe once said that the rabbi wrote in the siddur [unclear], “Long live the prince, the king.” What is he supposed to say? He wrote, he wrote, “Long live the prince, the king.” That he should write it—what a pity. And you cannot write, “What a pity.” You can write it. What? If someone does exactly as he is told, then he is reading the mezuzah. So they say, what should the prince, the king, do? What does “long live” mean? They are kings of that kind, kings for all time. That matters too. Yes, it is important. And... today there are very many fine bochurim. In so many things, they want to be told exactly what to do, what to do. And never—

03:15 Speaker 1 Was there such a thing. What would have happened there—such foolishness? If people came to it like that, [unclear]. They direct them toward things they cannot do. For the sake of... There is something to this in general. There is no such thing. There isn’t. Do you understand? That is not life. It is life of a different kind. It is not life. You write it down. It is not life as you know it. It is not your life. You want those beaches there, with seas and forests. That is not your life. There are things—

06:15 Speaker 2 There was [unclear]; they did not have an institution like that, so it supposedly broke something. And then he claimed [unclear], something else, the same thing. I don’t know. He tells his friend about it: how can it be done? And his friend said they could find a way to do it with half a liter. He did not want to. He came back to him two or three times. You had to see him at the farbrengen; I was [unclear]. But his friend told him; he did not want to take from [unclear]. Now what he tells me is fine; at the time, I did not have [unclear]. Compassion—[unclear]—was exactly as we had asked. He was really the one guiding him, and his friend had to say that much. He came to him perhaps a few days later; he had a place he needed to be. What can I say? No, it is not worth waiting. Apparently that is true. Not that he could not give it up. He claimed that he could not. He tried—what good did he expect? That, in fact, compassion... removing bodies is suffering. Removing bodies is that kind of thing. You were witnesses there, in [unclear], through [unclear] and [unclear]. You brought the experts here to speak about [unclear], and nobody jumped anywhere. Nobody jumped. No, no, no, they did not do it. So what is that? That is what it is. In general, these things are connected. Every person has some clear thinking. Even [unclear] does. There are different levels. Every person can improve himself. He does not have to improve himself, and he does not have to change himself either. The day will come and he will change one way or another. But every person has some degree of clear thinking. That is what needs to be said. There is a difference between a modest person—

09:10 Speaker 2 And a great person and a tzaddik. There is a difference between an exalted tzaddik and a great person and a rabbi. There is a difference between an exalted tzaddik and a great person. There are several kinds. There is a difference between a great person and a great tzaddik and someone described in terms of spiritual levels. There is a difference between a great person and a great tzaddik and a great person and a rabbi. There is a difference between a great person and a rabbi and a person. These are several kinds. It is not a difference between a great person and a rabbi and someone described that way. It is not a difference between a great person and a rabbi and a person. These are several kinds. After all, there is no “great person and rabbi” there. [unclear] And the Jew was not a great person and a rabbi. He was not a rabbi, or [unclear] the Jew. It is written about a path. A path. Who knows that every path has its own way in the world? Every detail. And it was written [unclear] all the paths, because they were paths. They searched for it afterward and found nothing; they had forgotten it. People of feeling were drawn to it and had nothing to say. There were Jews—even great, great, great people of profound feeling, [unclear]—and great intellectuals. The people of feeling searched for what a Jew of feeling seeks, and they did not find it. The intellectuals did not find it either. Jews who sought a deeper outlook on Yiddishkeit [unclear] looked for books that students did not read. That is a whole subject of study in itself. They had some questions, doubts, and so on. Even those who had no doubts at all still sought a deeper outlook—from the Gemara, from the Torah, from the Rebbe of Lubavitch, from all the shlichus work. But Jews knew better than that what to seek. They sought feeling and greatness, and they did not find it. And here this man gave them that outlook. There were Jews who sought it through feeling. The Torah—write this down—

11:41 Speaker 2 Love: love of Hashem, fear of Hashem, Ahavas Yisroel. Even [unclear] wrote the same thing, the same wording. So these were people looking for something. They were dear to themselves and to their friends. All right, all right, you can say what you want. How can one person draw in every kind of person, every kind of person a Jew longs to connect with? You are not talking [unclear]. All the Jews in [unclear] were entrusted to me. I went down to Eretz Yisroel at eighteen, and [unclear], but no one can tell you the great truth. That is all the Jews; it gave them tremendous strength. But what [unclear] was an emotional upheaval. It is still with us today. We have such a person. It is written in the Torah, in [unclear], that all of the Jewish people depend on one person. On one person. What is a head? What does the head have? The head—the head of [unclear]? Where does the soul reside? What is in the head, or what place is called the dwelling place of the soul? The soul is [unclear]. The soul draws everyone. As you know, all of the Jewish people depend on one person. There is the head, the Rebbe, the head of the Jewish people, [unclear]. But when you look at the overwhelming majority, the soul is the point of life. [unclear] of each person. The youngest one draws everything. And that is why we saw here that whenever something good came up, everyone would ask what he said about it. They asked all the time. They would ask, “What does Mordechai say? Mordechai?” Not every single person, but people were asking. I do not think there were people who would ask [unclear] what he said. A person of understanding knew everything; that is not good. There were people who asked [unclear]. But [unclear], and nobody did. The head of the household [unclear] in Tanya, and the head—everyone knows that through it, the head also knew. But what? Those—

14:34 Speaker 2 Those who have the right, and those who don’t. There are gaps in the system. [unclear] and they take it. People here will also say things that aren’t true, [unclear], but so what? It doesn’t matter how much you put forward. That isn’t what matters. But [unclear] is beautiful. And I maintain that it applies to everyone. What’s wrong with that? A blind person has no place. I always need to see the whole context to know what the difficulty is. That’s central. But he really came to see what his friend [unclear]. He looked for what I had found. She made room for him. He says, yes, he doesn’t agree, but he listens. After he... first he looked there and saw something a little worse. That’s how he speaks. He looked very carefully. Immediately afterward, everyone would be released. They told him that this wouldn’t release [unclear]; it would only release [unclear], and that was it. It wouldn’t fit. All right. Not only that, he also speaks here about how no shliach can be certain. No one. [unclear] gave him an education; what does that mean? I understand that he gave him that kind of education. He gave him an education too. That’s true. And he said that just when the Frierdiker Rebbe left Russia, as we discussed earlier—afterward he left Russia—he said that Motl did no harm. He describes Motl doing no harm when he was in the rabbi’s home in Chernobyl. It wasn’t just that he supported him; he also influenced him. So all of this is [unclear] that he influenced the rabbi. As for Motl, what is this? Where was he? He thought about Russia. He thought about Russia too. He was constantly thinking and acting, really acting upon him. The feelings. Him. He has a great deal of learning and books. There’s all of that. But here it says, of course,

17:38 Speaker 2 the soul. No one here sees the soul. No physical body sees the soul. But we do see the body; we feel it. What’s the connection? We see only its soul—the life of the body, the body’s vitality, because the soul is felt. That’s what we need to see, but it’s so natural. Not just the matter of being alive, no, not as we discussed earlier. There are living creatures, and at some point they were created with a soul in them. No one here sees another person’s soul or feels it. What we see is a living body. In other words, even those who haven’t done anything, even children—children haven’t seen it. And here they come. But that still isn’t enough. We need to see something else. All the happiness we spoke about earlier, when all the secrets were revealed. That Jew knows more than I did when I spoke with him. There are many Jews who share their feelings. I lift them up, draw them in, like anyone who wants to listen and talk, and... There are negative indications. That is, knowing an identity card, an idea of life, an idea for the moment, knowing what Judaism is. It draws everything in. It draws people in. That person draws everything in. People would come here too; all thirteen thousand of them would come here. There are Jews—that alone would make me set aside the thought of that arrangement. Just for that reason. [unclear] on the street. Jews come from abroad, go, come to Israel, go to the mikveh, come to Israel. Some don’t go to the mikveh either; they don’t know at all. Let’s move on. And from here, too, we should speak about reality, because we need to speak about reality. So speak about this matter that... I’ll tell you, everything I saw in... I didn’t really feel it; I didn’t really think it was an issue. It’s so astonishing. So the truth doesn’t matter? It isn’t simply that simple.

20:18 Speaker 2 I maintain, yes, that Selina’s claim is a very strong one and needs to be acted on. It’s something buried deep in Selina’s secrets. It affects other factors. And... there must be people who can confirm it. There’s a claim. The police don’t need to speak. People talk nonsense; this goes only before the ruling authorities. Those in power are a bad thing. Someone will say, surely an intelligent person, people in authority, [unclear]. He’ll say that [unclear] arrive and that you have to feel it with your hands. You have to see it properly. But that person you didn’t see whistles through the whole order of things. He whistles through the whole order of things, but he doesn’t see you any more than anyone else does. That’s nonsense. It’s nonsense, and then how does he not see the beginning? It isn’t astonishing. Authority is nonsense. It’s simply authority. Authority isn’t a desire. What is happening isn’t right in relation to it. What is needed is right in relation to it. But he’s mistaken. What we discussed—we’ve discussed it over the last hundred or hundred and twenty years. He said we need to speak, that what needs to be included needs to be discussed. There’s no [unclear] him and all his friends. Besides, there’s a need to speak, a willingness to speak, to talk about this and that. Then he’s offended. What is there to talk about? How many times must we repeat it? You need to learn this. He was an exceptional person, I’m telling you. So let’s talk. Yes or no, [unclear]. Let’s talk about the main point: everyone needs to know that there is someone, a person who cares about the matter. There has always been a person who cares about what concerns you and worries about you. That may certainly be so, but he worries about you too. And if you really have something to ask of that person, he will [unclear] and arrange everything. At the time, when someone is troubled by something and prays, asking [unclear] for mercy upon mercy.

23:42 Speaker 2 And when the matter is fulfilled, he behaves toward the student [unclear]. Such a person cares about each person’s feelings—is that all right? And when things don’t seem right, he calls him. That’s what I asked for. If you’re a Jew, we came to learn. We need to learn this. He cares about every Jew, particularly in this country. [unclear] the truth about the Egyptian. That is why he does the things he does. So that means they have something special. It’s also, in essence, a shame about [unclear] sitting there to the side and receiving no support. It couldn’t have been only with some plant; it could only have been with everyone.