Torah Convention following Shavuos 5774 - 770

00:03 Speaker 1 Now we’ve reached... we’ve reached a new stage in the Torah gathering: now, as at Mount Sinai, it’s reaching the whole world for the first time. That’s through video. In any case, I just asked Rabbi Alkovsky when the first Torah gathering was. Maybe someone here remembers—perhaps Mushka Lanks[?] knows? In any case, apparently the Rabbi’s first participation in a Torah gathering was in [unclear], in Switzerland. The Rabbi mentions his participation in Yiddish. So I’ll leave that sicha aside—it’s been recorded too—but there’s more to it than what’s written here, more than what we have recorded in the usual way. In any case, from what I’ve seen, there are major insights there into the very question of what Torah is—what defines Torah altogether. In halachah, and in Chassidus too, everything has a definition. With property, for example, there’s a distinction between movable property and land. There’s a distinction between a prohibition on the person and a prohibition inherent in the object. With anything in Torah, when you establish what it is, you have to know precisely how it’s defined. The question is: how is Torah defined? Although the Rebbe didn’t speak about it in precisely those terms, in Torah study—particularly [unclear]—I know that this is the main point, the innovation. It’s not just a precise point in the revealed dimension of Torah, or in some statement of our Sages or some halachah, but also drawing from it a new understanding of the definition of Torah. Why does this question arise? Because we all know Rashi at the beginning of Chumash: “Bereishis”—for the sake of Torah, for the sake of Israel. The whole purpose of Creation is Torah. But there’s a small problem: the Torah was given only in the desert. There were twenty-six generations from the beginning of Creation until the Giving of the Torah. If the Torah had already been given at Creation, there would have been nothing new in the Giving of the Torah.

03:12 Speaker 1 And we all know, both from the revealed dimension of Torah and from its inner dimension, that the Giving of the Torah will not happen a second time. In the language of Chassidus, it brought about a change throughout the entire chain of worlds; the decree separating the upper and lower realms was annulled. In the language of the revealed dimension of Torah, we can transform an ordinary object into an object of holiness. So if Torah is the whole purpose of Creation, why wasn’t it given at the beginning of Creation? There are many answers, but this brings us to the question: how is Torah defined? Perhaps Torah is something spiritual. In the language of Chassidus, it is the will and wisdom of Hakadosh Boruch Hu; in the language of our Sages, a “hidden treasure,” as the Gemara in Shabbos that we’ll discuss shortly calls it. We also know the statement of our Sages that Torah preceded the world by two thousand years. It certainly wasn’t connected with physicality then, because that was before the world. According to the straightforward understanding of Torah—however one explains “two thousand years”—it preceded the world. There is a well-known Zohar on Parshas Chukas, discussed from there in Chassidus in [unclear], Chukas [unclear]. Regarding the Torah’s words in Chukas: if it existed two thousand years before the world, how could it say, “When a person dies in a tent”? It says in the Torah portion that death could not exist without sin. Without the sin of the Tree of Knowledge, there would have been no death at all. Yet the Torah says, “When a person dies,” describing it as a reality, not as something dependent on another event. So if the Torah preceded the world, did it take that event into account? What’s the point here? The Zohar answers, and Chassidus explains, that there are different levels of death—an idea also discussed in the revealed dimension of Torah. Even without the sin of the Tree of Knowledge, “when a person dies in a tent” could have applied. Death can also be understood in the sense of “A righteous person falls seven times and rises.” There can be a kind of death in passing from one state of being to another, without any pain of death at all, because the Torah doesn’t say

05:19 Speaker 1 that death involves pain. It says that there is such a thing as death. Death means a change from one state to another. “One who falls from his level is called dead”—that’s the meaning behind all these explanations. So if there had been no sin, why would death have been a matter of expulsion at all? Perhaps it would have meant leaving a previous level to reach one above it, like the self-nullification associated with the River of Fire, and so on—the pillar between one world and the next. On that basis, Torah itself appears to be something spiritual. What about the world? Hashem wanted to give Torah down here. That’s the way this sicha proceeds, and I’ll return to it, but I wanted to introduce this so we can understand, and sometimes recognize, what is new in the Rebbe’s explanation of what Torah is. This was essentially the question behind the angels’ claim—even their case in a Torah court—when Moshe reached the heavens. The Gemara in Shabbos 88b says that when Moshe ascended on high, the ministering angels said before Hakadosh Boruch Hu: “Master of the Universe, what is one born of woman doing among us?” Born of woman—a human being of flesh and blood. We are spiritual; we are up here in the higher worlds. What is this person born of woman doing here? Hakadosh Boruch Hu answered them: “He has come to receive the Torah.” The angels put forward their claim: “A hidden treasure that has been stored away for 974 generations”—that’s the number given in the Gemara. Rashi explains this in light of what I mentioned: Torah preceded the world by two thousand years. So Torah existed before the world. Why, then, was it given later? Hakadosh Boruch Hu saw that the world could not endure without Torah, so He gave it after only twenty-six generations. A thousand minus twenty-six is 974. That’s Rashi’s explanation. One could apparently ask about this: those are generations, not years. Two thousand years are years, while a generation is at least twenty years. But that isn’t our subject. In any case, the Gemara says that the angels spoke of 974 generations, because they

07:38 Speaker 1 knew that Torah, by definition, was not something belonging to the world; it preceded the world. So why did Hashem give this hidden treasure to one born of woman? “Moshe Rabbeinu, do You wish to give a hidden treasure to flesh and blood? ‘What is man that You should remember him?’” They quote verses as evidence, like anyone presenting a claim in a Torah court, bringing proofs from the Torah itself. What is man? A frail human being. He has no connection to Torah. Torah belongs in the heavens, and so on. “Place Your glory upon the heavens.” Hakadosh Boruch Hu said to Moshe, “Give them an answer.” Hakadosh Boruch Hu chose the Jewish people and gave us the Torah—that’s straightforward. Shouldn’t Hakadosh Boruch Hu answer the angels’ questions, their claim? No. Hakadosh Boruch Hu said to Moshe, “Give them an answer.” The Gemara continues that Moshe was afraid they would harm him, and so on. Hashem told him, “Hold on to My Throne of Glory and answer them.” What did Moshe say? He said before Him, “Master of the Universe, the Torah You are giving me—what does it say in it? What is written in it? ‘I am Hashem your G-d, Who took you out of the land of Egypt.’ Did you go down to Egypt?” He said to the angels: “Were you enslaved there?” The Torah has no application to you. Moshe then went through nearly every one of the Ten Commandments, saying of each one: this doesn’t apply to you. “What else is written in it? ‘You shall have no other gods.’ Do you live among peoples” who worship other gods? Even according to the Zohar’s teachings, they have something resembling an attachment to other gods. Do you perform labor? Shabbos doesn’t apply to you. What have you done? Are there fathers and mothers among you? Is there jealousy among you, which can lead to murder and so on? Do you have an evil inclination? The Gemara concludes that immediately all the angels became Moshe’s friends. Hakadosh Boruch

09:58 Speaker 1 Hu—and the Gemara concludes that suddenly all the angels became Moshe’s friends. Just now they were arguing a case against him, as though they opposed him and were his enemies. This isn’t just some abstract lesson. At the end of the case, there’s no enemy left, yes? [unclear]. Okay, perhaps this is not so much for you, but for people who have a connection to something down here—to the Giving of the Torah, to Egypt. The case ends with everyone becoming Moshe Rabbeinu’s friends. Perhaps they had an interest in it, since now [unclear], so of course it was worthwhile for them to be close to him. But that’s an aside; it isn’t connected to the sicha. Now, the Rebbe brings, in [unclear], the fundamental question: what, in fact, was at issue here? And of course there’s the well-known question of why Hakadosh Boruch Hu didn’t answer them Himself, and what there was in Moshe Rabbeinu’s answer that made them accept it immediately, without any further claims. There are sefarim—the Rebbe, when discussing this sicha, only referred to sefarim. I think he didn’t mention which ones, but the sefarim include later authorities cited here in Likkutei Sichos—the Chida, the Chizkuni, and several other commentators. They explain that the point of the dispute, the angels’ claim, concerned the law of bar metzra, a neighboring landowner’s right of first refusal. As I mentioned earlier, they held that Torah belonged to them. Torah is spiritual, and therefore, according to halachah—“He tells His words to Yaakov, His statutes and judgments to Israel”; Hakadosh Boruch Hu observes the mitzvos He gives us—there is the well-known law of bar metzra, in Bava Metzia 108 and in Rambam’s Laws of Neighbors, and in Choshen Mishpat, section 175. What is the law? If someone wants to sell a piece of land to a buyer, the neighboring landowner has a claim under the law of bar metzra: the person who lives there, or who already owns property adjoining that land

12:58 Speaker 1 ...because there is a certain benefit in it. With land, someone who owns a plot adjoining the seller’s land cannot demand that the seller sell it to him if the seller does not want to. But once you sell it to someone, the person who lives right next to it has priority. That was their claim. You see, this is a spiritual matter, and the proof is that for two thousand years before the Torah was given, it was a hidden treasure. Had Hashem given it to the Jewish people, to human beings, at the beginning of creation, perhaps there would not have been such a strong claim. But clearly He did not give it to them. Why? Because it is a spiritual matter. And who is the neighbor of something spiritual? The heavenly angels, not those born of woman. That is also why they specifically said “those born of woman.” Why is that relevant here? Because a person is born of woman. He belongs to the earth, to the lower realms, not to the upper realms. And the Torah belongs to the upper realms. They had no claim regarding mitzvos. As for the mitzvos themselves, they could say, “A mitzvah? That does not apply to us”—a physical mitzvah, like putting on tefillin. But the Torah is the foundation of everything. Some mistakenly think their claim was that Jews down here should not derive any benefit from the Torah. No, that was not their claim. The question was: who has ownership of the Torah? They knew that once it was given down below, the rule would be “It is not in heaven,” and “The Torah that Moshe commanded us is the inheritance of the congregation of Yaakov.” It would be an inheritance belonging to... That is not the issue. Take the simple case of someone who wants to buy land, while the adjoining landowner claims it belongs to him: he can still let the buyer benefit from the land somehow, from its fruit or something like that, if he wants. It is not that we should be unable to receive any benefit or enjoyment from it. That is not the adjoining landowner’s claim.

15:09 Speaker 1 The Torah says, “It is not in heaven.” But why should that be? Especially since some commentators—the Alshich, I think, the Maharsha, and others—explain that their claim concerned the very inner dimension of the Torah. It was not merely about an explanation of the Torah’s inner dimension. The plain meaning deals with things like oxen, donkeys, and other physical matters that belong down below. Obviously, that was not what the angels were claiming. Rather, what is the essence of Torah? As I mentioned, it existed two thousand years before the world. Its inner dimension is not physical; the world did not even exist yet. What is the essence of Torah? The wisdom and will of Hakadosh Boruch Hu. To whom do the wisdom and will of Hakadosh Boruch Hu belong—to flesh-and-blood people or to angels? That was their claim. Good. This also brings to mind that, as a matter of law, the adjoining landowner’s claim is against the buyer, not the seller. In this way, the Rebbe answers a question. The Torah says, “Command the Children of Israel,” “Speak to the Children of Israel.” We know that Torah and the Jewish people both preceded the world, and the question is which of them takes precedence. The answer is found in the verses “Command the Children of Israel” and “Speak to the Children of Israel.” So what question could the angels have in the first place? “Command the Children of Israel” appears so many times in Tanach! But under the law of the adjoining landowner, that is irrelevant. The claim is: “It belongs to us. Look, it says so. Even if the seller wants to give it to you, he is obligated to give it to us.” The claim is directed at the buyer, not the seller—not at Hakadosh Boruch Hu, but at Moshe. That is what the Rebbe points out. That is understood. There are also several points in the Gemara that call for close attention.

17:27 Speaker 1 At any rate, what is the answer? The Chida and other works bring a number of answers. The first is that Torah is movable property, not land. The law of the adjoining landowner discussed in the Gemara does not apply to movable property. What is the adjoining landowner’s claim? “This particular place is next to mine.” Movable property can be obtained from anywhere. So if Torah is movable property, the angels have no claim. That is the first answer. A second answer is that the law of the adjoining landowner applies only to a sale, not a gift. And how was the Torah given? As a gift. If someone wants to give a gift to a recipient, the law of the adjoining landowner does not apply. Another answer is that the Jewish people are close to Hakadosh Boruch Hu: “You are children to Hashem your G-d.” The law of the adjoining landowner—all of this is discussed in that passage in Bava Metzia—does not apply when the recipient is a relative, and it does not apply to a son. It applies to an outsider, someone who is not close to the seller. So those are three answers: movable property, a gift, and relatives. Another answer is that Moshe Rabbeinu was “a man of G-d.” The Midrash says that “a man of G-d” means that his upper half was like G-d and his lower half was like a man. Consequently, he has the same standing as an adjoining landowner as the angels do, because he is like an angel. In short. And another answer: the verse says that “the people stood before Moshe from morning until evening.” Moshe judged with absolute truth, and whoever judges with absolute truth becomes a partner with Hakadosh Boruch Hu in the work of creation. The law of the adjoining landowner does not apply against a partner either. The Rambam also cites this in connection with the Gemara there. The Rebbe does not accept any of these answers. Why? Because none of them is

20:03 Speaker 1 alluded to in Moshe Rabbeinu’s response. If the claim was based on the law of the adjoining landowner, Moshe should have said one of these things. But he did not hint—not even indirectly—at any of these arguments: that Torah is movable property, that it is a gift, that the Jewish people are relatives, that he is like an angel, or that he is a partner. None of them is mentioned. Some commentators bring two further answers. But regarding the last two arguments: Moshe could not answer that, as “a man of G-d,” he was like an angel, because he was not receiving the Torah for himself. He was bringing it only as a shliach for the Jewish people, and they are not angels. They are not “men of G-d.” So how could Moshe’s own status answer the claim? The same goes for the argument about partnership. It is said that all Jews are partners with Hakadosh Boruch Hu in the work of creation: whoever recites “Vayechulu” is a partner. But Moshe did not hint at that either. There is no hint of it in Moshe Rabbeinu’s words. On the contrary, the idea that the recipients were partners or somehow resembled the ministering angels runs counter to what Moshe said. Moshe Rabbeinu spoke of having a yetzer hara and asked, “Did you go down to Egypt?” No—specifically human beings went down to Egypt. All of this emphasizes the opposite of being spiritual: it points to those whose nature belongs down here. So how could the answer be that we, too, belong to the upper realms and are spiritual? That is the opposite of Moshe’s answer. The Rebbe also raises several other objections to these explanations, beyond the major objection that they are not hinted at in Moshe’s words. Regarding the first explanation, how can one answer that Torah is movable property? There is a reason behind the law: even if Torah were movable property, one could not obtain movable property like this—the Torah—from somewhere else. So even if it is movable property, it is like land that cannot be obtained elsewhere. What does calling it movable property accomplish? That is the first point.

22:23 Speaker 1 Second, regarding the answer that it was a gift: Torah is also described as an inheritance and as something purchased. As far as the aspect of Torah that is a gift is concerned, yes, the angels cannot invoke the law of the adjoining landowner. But with the aspect of Torah that is a purchase, which we acquire, their claim does apply. Another answer: I mentioned the Alshich’s explanation that the angels’ claim did not concern the plain meaning of Torah, but its essence, its inner dimension. What does “inner dimension” mean here? It is not simply a distinction between the Torah’s secrets and its plain meaning. It means the essence of Torah, which is spiritual. This requires a little explanation, because everything in Torah, including the Written Torah, has a spiritual aspect. There is a long maamar about this in Likkutei Torah. This spiritual aspect is the essence of Torah: it existed two thousand years before the world. After the world was created, however, the Torah’s spiritual dimension also descended into physical form. So the angels’ claim concerned the Torah’s secrets. But the answer is based on a ruling in that Gemara: if someone sells all his properties to one buyer, the law of the adjoining landowner does not apply. That law applies when he sells a particular plot of land, whether small or large, as a single property; then the adjoining landowner has priority. But if he sells the buyer many properties throughout the world—not just in that location, but in other cities too—as one sale, the law does not apply. For what could the adjoining landowner claim? Does he want all the properties? No, he wants

24:40 Speaker 1 Only that part. It does not apply, even if he wants to pay for it, because that is already a different kind of sale. There are other plots of land, and so that is the answer to the angels: You have no connection to the plain meaning of the Torah. You yourselves acknowledge that, because the plain meaning does not apply to angels. Yes, they knew that it says Egypt and so on. And Hashem gave the entire Torah to the Jewish people—all the plots of land, all its parts: pshat, remez, and drush. So the law of bar metzra does not apply. But that is not alluded to either. There is no hint of it in Moshe’s words. That is the point. There is another answer concerning whether the bar metzra stands to profit from this land, but does not need it for his livelihood. The buyer, though, wants it not for profit but for his very life. His life depends on it. The Torah is our life and the length of our days. It is not just for comfort or profit; his life depends on it, and in that case, too, the law of bar metzra does not apply. But that, too, is not alluded to in Moshe’s words. That is the point: none of this is hinted at in Moshe’s words. So these are all good arguments, but they do not relate to the issue we are discussing now. What, then, is the answer to all this? That brings us to another law of bar metzra: if the buyer is purchasing the land not merely for profit, or even merely for his livelihood, but because he wants to build a house there as his permanent home. Even today, here in America, in the United States, there are laws that give tax breaks and so on if it is your permanent home, not a second home for vacations or something like that. If it is your permanent home, the law of bar metzra does not apply, because the other person, the adjoining landowner, already has land and already has a house. So—

27:05 Speaker 1 What does he want it for? Only for his profit. And on the other side, the person [unclear]—that is the whole law. But if the buyer wants to build a home, the law of bar metzra does not apply. And the purpose of all creation—even, in their view, of Sinai—[unclear]. So what is it? To make a dwelling for Him in the lower realms. A dwelling specifically: a home prepared for Him to come precisely here below. And that is Moshe Rabbeinu’s answer. It is explicit in his words. What is it? He did not merely open the Torah and say: You have no connection to Egypt, you have no connection to the yetzer hara, you have no connection to a dwelling in the lower realms. What does the Torah say? “I am Hashem your G-d.” Why does the Torah say, “I am Hashem your G-d”? Because the intent is that even in Egypt there should be faith in “I am Hashem your G-d, Who brought you out of the land of Egypt.” And in a world where there is a yetzer hara and jealousy and so on, there should be “You shall not murder” and “You shall not commit adultery,” and the other mitzvos. It is precisely there that a dwelling is to be built according to the laws of the Torah’s mitzvos, and that is the whole Torah. So the law of bar metzra does not apply to this. Now, it is not as I mentioned earlier, that many people misunderstand the Gemara. The angels’ claim was not that the Jewish people should derive no benefit from the Torah. That was not it. It was about who would have ownership of the Torah. For, as we know, “It is not in heaven,” as I mentioned; and all the rulings of a beis din, even [unclear]. There is the passage in Bava Metzia about Rabbah bar Nachmani. “My children have prevailed over Me, My children have prevailed over Me”: the halachah is decided specifically below, not in the spiritual realms. The Rambam cites this in halachah as well. The Kesef Mishneh writes there that this took place at the time of judgment of the soul. But a halachic ruling does not belong above, in the higher realms, because, as we know, halachic rulings are central to the Torah. That was the angels’ claim: that primary ownership should be below and not theirs. But the answer is that the Torah is not—

29:22 Speaker 1 It is specifically for building a dwelling. It is not only about ruling on laws; it is about building a dwelling, and that belongs specifically below. So here, too, the opposite is true. It does not mean that the angels derive no benefit from the Torah. Even above, in Gan Eden, they study Torah today, and angels, too, study and know the Torah. Rather, what? They do not own it. Why? Because the law of bar metzra does not apply to them here: the dwelling, the home, is built specifically down here. But one question remains. After all, the angels are spiritual, and the Torah is spiritual. So in that respect, they do have a claim under the law of bar metzra. Granted, because of the dwelling, it is given to the buyer. But what is the answer to the underlying point? They, too, want to build a home in the spiritual realms. So here we need—and the explanation inside already sets this out—that a home cannot be built above. For this is a home for Hashem, and it must be specifically down here. A dwelling for His Essence: as Tanya, chapter 36, says, the intent is specifically below, not above. There are many explanations of this in Chassidus. What exactly does it mean? But however one explains it, the higher realms represent a descent from the light of His blessed countenance. A home cannot be built above. So if, let us say, the adjoining landowner claims, “I have land here and I want to build a large house, so I also need the land you want to sell”—[unclear] does not bring this up. I am just giving an example. But it applies only if you are in a position to build a dwelling. Building above is not relevant to building a dwelling, because a dwelling is for His Essence. His Essence is not found in the higher realms. And in this, it would seem, lies the Rebbe’s main insight in this entire discussion. For in the end, as I began by saying, the question is: What is the nature of—

31:29 Speaker 1 The Torah is spiritual; it is certainly not physical. It is not, G-d forbid, to make a comparison, a matter of worldly wisdom. Take, for example, medical knowledge, or—again, without comparing the two—wisdom among the nations. “If someone tells you there is wisdom among the nations, believe it; if someone tells you there is Torah among the nations, do not believe it.” The Torah is certainly something of Hashem. But what does it mean that the Torah is Hashem’s? The angels could say that it is a spiritual Torah. There is, as it says, Torah of Atzilus and Torah of Beriah. Torah is studied there; it is a spiritual Torah. And even after all these arguments, in the end, it is not merely that the Torah existed beforehand; the Torah itself, in its essence, has no connection to the physical. On the contrary, when David “called them songs,” he was punished for it. Why? Because one cannot even speak of calling the Torah a person’s songs. For, as it says in Chassidus, it is His delight. In the kuntres [unclear], he spoke about David “calling them songs”: the Torah is His delight. “I was with Him as a nursling”—it is a matter of Hakadosh Boruch Hu, the delight of His own Essence. So to call it songs suggests, as it were, that it is something for a person. That is not what the Torah is. The Torah is a matter of Hakadosh Boruch Hu. It is the praise of Hakadosh Boruch Hu. One might say: Where is the Torah’s place? In the spiritual world. It is just that, as Divine revelation is drawn down from Atzilus even into Asiyah, we, too, derive some benefit from the Torah. But when we say it is a dwelling—that a dwelling, a home, must be built, and that this is the intent of His Essence—that is higher even than spirituality. For, as we know, the spiritual is not His Essence. The spiritual, too, is part of creation, so to speak. The Ein Sof—the Ein Sof is beyond any comparison [unclear]. Even the highest level. And the intent of a dwelling in the lower realms is specifically for His blessed Essence.

33:33 Speaker 1 Higher even than spirituality. That is the point. If we say that the angels’ claim rested on the premise that the Torah is a spiritual matter—but no: the Torah is a matter of His Essence. “The Torah and Hakadosh Boruch Hu are entirely one.” The Torah is a matter of His Essence. Where is a home built for His Essence? And where is the intent of His Essence fulfilled? Specifically in a dwelling in the lower realms. The higher realms are a descent from before Him, from [unclear]. So if this cannot take place above, the adjoining landowner’s claim does not even arise. There is an adjoining landowner, but that is not the end of the matter. So this is not written in the sicha. But apparently the introductory explanation comes first. What is cited there is the end of the Gemara: the angels became Moshe Rabbeinu’s friends. Why? Because once they heard that he was bringing them an ascent—for they themselves are a descent from the blessed Master of the World, and he brings them an ascent through the dwelling—of course they should become your friends, not your enemies or opponents. On the contrary, he brings you an ascent, and through the intent being fulfilled here below, he brings an ascent to the higher realms as well. Of course, there is more to discuss here. But when one studies the sicha in Likkutei Sichos, volume 8—of course, if one studies it with effort, one discovers things—I think that with the introductory explanation and this sicha as well, one understands this precisely. There are major insights here. It is not just that the Rebbe cites another law of bar metzra, while all those commentators cite the laws of a gift, a waiver, and a relative, [unclear], and neighbors, and so on. There is a remarkable insight here, and it also allows us to understand the Gemara in an entirely different way. This is not just another passage of Gemara. This Gemara brings us to the essence of what the Torah is. That is the question. It is not just, as it were, a bit of lighthearted talk—that the angels had claims and there were many expositions. This goes to the heart of it, because this is the opening. Angels

35:30 Speaker 1 They have their arguments, and Moshe has an answer. The angels themselves make the argument that spiritual beings would naturally make: they think that they are closer to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, and therefore closer to the Torah. And the answer is: no. The Torah does not inherently belong to the heavenly beings. The Torah is His very essence. It is not just revelation and spirituality; it is, in essence, the Torah of Hakadosh Boruch Hu. And where is that expressed? When a dwelling is built. This also brings out the aspect of revealed Torah law here. Why doesn’t the law of bar metzra apply when someone builds a house? The neighboring landowner could argue, “I’ll give you money; build a house somewhere else. You want a home? I’ll give you money.” Because something about having a home is rooted in a person’s very essence. As he cites there, a person cannot be without a home. The Gemara says, “A person cannot be without land,” and the Rebbe also explains that land means a dwelling. Rabbi Yosef Engel notes that the same Gemara also says that a person cannot be without a wife, without land or without a home. A home reaches to the root of a person, corresponding to the Supernal Man. And the maamarim explain—[unclear]—that a person’s fundamental desire for a home is not only for shelter from rain and sun. Rather, it is so that the person himself can be at home. This is rooted in Hakadosh Boruch Hu’s desire for a dwelling in the lower realms. In any event, at the end of the sicha, [unclear], the Rebbe mentioned that this would be a contribution to the Torah gathering, and that it contains matters of both revealed Torah law and Chassidus. One could understand those words literally. But when the Rebbe says explicitly that it contains matters of revealed Torah law and matters of Chassidus, one can understand “matters” to mean not just topics, but novel insights in both revealed Torah law and Chassidus. To the best of my knowledge, as I have explained it, we can understand at least something of this whole

37:31 Speaker 1 subject: what Torah is, and how Torah is defined. And if there is time, we can look further and compare other books—works of revealed Torah law and works of Chassidus. How is Torah defined according to revealed Torah law? In my opinion, there are certainly novel insights here that can add to this entire discussion of what Torah is. So, to conclude: instead of having to search through sichos from previous years—[unclear]—may the Rebbe be here with us before the month of Nissan, before—before Gimmel Tammuz, that is what I meant to say, before any of those dates. Then “a new Torah will go forth from Me,” and there will certainly be Torah gatherings then too. Presumably Rabbi Rubchovsky will chair them as well, and Rabbi Menashe Kito [unclear]. L’chaim, l’chaim. Yes. And may we merit it immediately, and he will redeem us.

38:37 Speaker 2 Yasher koach, and a happy Yom Tov to you too. Now we’ll invite our speaker, Rabbi Shaya Goyn [unclear], [unclear], Reb Shaya.

00:00 Speaker 1 And Rokovsky [unclear] is there too, as chairman, and Rabbi Menashe Kito [unclear]. Ah, and Rabbi Chaim Chaim [unclear]. Yes, that’s it. And [unclear].

00:16 Speaker 2 Yasher koach. [Unclear]. Now we’ll ask [unclear], Rabbi Avishai Roin [unclear], to give us some encouragement [unclear].

00:44 Speaker 1 Yasher koach.

00:48 Speaker 2 My brothers.

00:48 Speaker 1 I remember once being at a gathering where one of the speakers discussed a topic concerning korbanos. After he finished—I think it was on Shavuos—someone else got up to speak. He said, “Until now they’ve been discussing korbanos, scholarly analysis and intricate arguments. I’m going to talk about the siddur,” he said, “the plain meaning of the siddur—something everyone can relate to.” I’m not so sure. It could be that the one who discussed korbanos spoke plainly, while the one who discussed the siddur engaged in scholarly analysis and intricate arguments. But as far as our subject is concerned, with Hashem’s help we’ll try to strike a balance here between korbanos and the siddur. On the one hand, Rabbi wants us to speak about matters relating to the days of Moshiach. On the other hand, this also has implications for the siddur—for how we say the prayers. Shavuos has just passed, and there are various korbanos connected with Shavuos. Though Shavuos has passed, we’re still in its days of compensation. There is a remarkable innovation of the Rebbe’s, I think from 5747, saying that during the days of compensation one can make up all the korbanos of Shavuos. On a straightforward reading, the days of compensation apply to an individual’s korban—the olas re’iyah, shalmei chagigah and the like—not to a communal korban. If I’m not mistaken, the Rebbe spoke about making up the festival’s communal korbanos during the days of compensation. This also connects with the idea brought in various sefarim that we’ll offer all the korbanos we should have offered during the exile. Maybe it can be connected, maybe not; I don’t know. At any rate, since we’re in the days of compensation and Shavuos was just now, there’s something in the siddur that is very hard to understand—specifically in the Chabad siddur. In the Musaf prayer, which corresponds to the Musaf korban, we mention the Musaf korban of Shavuos. We say, “Their additional offerings as prescribed”—the same wording used on every festival—“and their meal offerings and libations,” and add “a goat for atonement,” since every festival has a sin offering,

03:11 Speaker 1 “and the two daily offerings according to their laws.” Now, the Chabad text says that on Shavuos we say “two goats for atonement.” Although some sefarim attribute this to Nusach Sefard, it isn’t Nusach Sefard. It is the wording of the Arizal. In some older sefarim that refer to “Nusach Sefard,” they mean the Arizal’s wording. There is no other version there; this is an innovation of the Arizal. Why does the Arizal say to mention two goats? It’s simple arithmetic: Parshas Pinchas lists the communal korban of Shavuos—“On the day of the first fruits, when you offer a new meal offering to Hashem,” and so on. Then Parshas Emor also lists korbanos brought specifically on Shavuos, but those are connected with the two loaves that were brought. They brought the two loaves from the new grain, along with seven lambs and two rams, and there too it says that they brought a goat as a sin offering. So, simple arithmetic: there’s a goat in Parshas Emor and a goat in Parshas Pinchas. That gives us two altogether—two goats. The simple question is this: there are quite a few questions about this innovation of the Alter Rebbe’s. For some reason, although [unclear], several sefarim discuss it only very briefly, and to this day no one has dealt with these questions seriously. So much so that no one has found a source for the Alter Rebbe’s wording. Not only that: Rashi there says not to say it this way. So there are a number of questions. First, if we need to mention the korbanos of Parshas Emor, then there isn’t just another goat. There are more rams, lambs and bulls—a whole list. The Alter Rebbe singled out the goat so that we could say “two goats for atonement.” But why not mention the seven lambs and the two loaves? Second, the two loaves have nothing to do

05:09 Speaker 1 with Musaf. The two loaves, and the korbanos brought with them, were meant to permit the new grain. Until Shavuos, new grain could not be used in the Beis Hamikdash—not by ordinary people; for them it had already been permitted from the second day of Pesach. But new grain could not be used for offerings to Hashem, so a special korban was brought to permit it. That isn’t connected with Shavuos; the word “Shavuos” isn’t mentioned at all in Parshas Emor. Musaf relates to the Musaf korban. This isn’t a Musaf korban, so why mention it? In the commentary of the Baalei Hatosafos printed in Chumashim on Parshas Pinchas, the question is asked: Why don’t we say “two goats”? It says there that we shouldn’t say “two goats.” Tosafos explains that the korbanos brought with the two loaves were brought together with the morning tamid. They aren’t connected with Musaf. Now, there are chassidim who prefer to say that Tosafos says not to say it, but we do say it. On the contrary, [unclear] the Alter Rebbe—we don’t follow Tosafos, and that’s where the chassidishkeit lies. There is a well-known letter of the Rebbe’s in which he writes that it is more chassidish to say there is a source, and to find the source for what the Rebbe said, than to say that the Rebbe originated something on his own. Interestingly, the Rebbe doesn’t say it’s more correct, or that it’s the correct approach. He says it’s more chassidish. Chassidishkeit leads us to say not that the Alter Rebbe introduced something new here, but that it has a source. So where does it say to recite “two goats for atonement”? First, before we get to the sources: Tosafos’s objection to “two goats for atonement” is that the two loaves were brought in the morning, together with Shacharis, and have nothing to do with Musaf. Well, first of all, there’s an explicit Gemara saying that all the Musaf offerings were brought in the morning. The question is how to interpret that Gemara. The Gemara in Yoma asks: Why does it say of every Musaf korban, “besides the morning burnt offering, which is the daily burnt offering”? And the Gemara says

07:18 Speaker 1 that “besides the Shabbos burnt offering” means it is brought together with the morning tamid. So what is Tosafos asking—that we can’t mention the two loaves because they were brought in the morning? The Musaf itself is brought in the morning! Now, Tosafos may interpret the Gemara differently. Fine. But the Alter Rebbe has enough to rely on: he can follow the Gemara as the other Rishonim understand it. Besides, Tosafos says that in Musaf there’s no need to mention something brought in the morning. But in Musaf we mention the morning tamid itself! Look in the siddur. It says, “There we will offer before You the obligatory korbanos incumbent upon us, the daily offerings in their order.” And at the end we mention the korban. Why bring up the tamid korban here? We already dealt with the korbanos; this morning, in Shacharis, we recited the passage of the tamid. In the middle of Musaf you mention “the daily offerings in their order” again. Well, you could say that’s a general request: we want the Beis Hamikdash back, so we’ll have all the offerings—the lambs of the tamid, the Musaf, and everything restored to its proper place. But that can’t be the meaning, because later, when we mention the Musaf in detail, we also say, “Lambs... as prescribed... and two—and two daily offerings.” We say “two daily offerings,” even though you still have the afternoon tamid to bring. Why are you bringing up two daily offerings? I know we bring two every day. You don’t need to mention that now. I mentioned it in the morning, and according to our version we recite the korbanos at Minchah too. Why is it important here? Clearly, it’s important to include the tamid korban as well. And that’s not all. There’s something much stronger than all of this. The Shulchan Aruch says that someone who did not pray Musaf at all

08:52 Speaker 1 He said just one short sentence: “And we shall offer before You the tamid and the Musaf offering.” He doesn’t need all the verses; he has fulfilled his obligation. So you open the Alter Rebbe’s Shulchan Aruch, and it says that he said, “And we shall offer before You the tamid offerings of the day and the Musaf offering.” In other words, even the most minimal wording after the fact, where he says only that short sentence because he doesn’t have a siddur, mentions them. Say he just davens the regular weekday Shemoneh Esrei. Yes, in fact, one can daven the weekday Shemoneh Esrei, thank G-d, even on Shabbos and Yom Tov. And he says, “And we shall offer before You the offering of the day”—I don’t remember the exact words—“the Musaf of the day and the tamid offerings of the day.” Why the tamid offerings? In other words, even the minimal wording must mention them. That means the tamid offering is closely connected to Musaf. So Daas Zekeinim asks about this wording of the Alter Rebbe’s—he doesn’t cite the Alter Rebbe; he asks about its connection with the morning. The whole Musaf is said to be very closely connected with the morning. Why, really, must we mention the tamid? Take the simple explanation: that is the essence of the Musaf offering. Musaf means that every day you bring the tamid, and today you add something. If you don’t emphasize the tamid offering, the very idea of Musaf is missing. Musaf means you have a tamid offering and add to it. We all learn Rambam, of course, but in Sefer Hamitzvos, the Rambam’s wording makes this especially clear. The Rambam writes: “to add on the seventh day,” “to add on Rosh Chodesh,” “to add on Shavuos,” “to add on Sukkos.” Every time he mentions Musaf, he says “to add.” That is what Musaf means: to add. There is a Rashi in Yoma where Rashi emphasizes this in explaining the Gemara in Yoma; perhaps we’ll come back to it. The Gemara says there is the obligation of the day and there are the Musaf offerings. So Rashi—actually, what does “the obligation

10:38 Speaker 1 of the day” mean? What is Musaf? Rashi says: Wherever the Torah says “besides the burnt offering”—meaning the daily burnt offering—that is what Musaf means. Musaf means that the verse states it is besides the daily burnt offering. That is the meaning of Musaf. This has practical implications. Besides the implication we mentioned, that the tamid is mentioned, there is also the matter of holding a lottery for the tamid offerings to determine which kohen would merit to offer them. They held lotteries for all the various services, but the one who won the tamid also won the Musaf. There is a direct connection. You offer the tamid, and then you have to offer the Musaf too; that is the whole point of Musaf. You offer the tamid and add something in honor of the festival. “A holy convocation, and you shall offer”—you bring something special. So let’s return to the Alter Rebbe. All the questions Daas Zekeinim raises about this wording did not compel the Alter Rebbe to rule that it should not be said. Daas Zekeinim apparently takes a different approach. Fine, the Alter Rebbe holds that the Musaf is offered in the morning, and so on. But there are sources for this too; there are discussions among the Baalei HaTosafos and various arguments. For example, there is Daas Zekeinim, an old sefer. It says there, “And I saw that Rabbi”—I don’t remember the name right now—Rabbi Yitzchak bar Baruch would say on Shavuos, “the two goats for atonement.” So we have found someone who said it that way, and the author writes why he doesn’t think it should be said that way. In other words, there was already a dispute. One of the Rishonim is cited there in Daas Zekeinim. In our accepted wording, the great [unclear]—that’s the whole [unclear]. Today they bring a different wording. But Tosafos says not to say it. So it is presented as a comparison: there is Tosafos, and then there are Chabad chassidim going against Tosafos. And Chabad chassidim even write in support of their position: there is only the Alter Rebbe; there is no one else. But there are plenty who say it that way. In fact, Daas Zekeinim, for example, records a dispute among the Rishonim. It says that the Rif—I don’t remember who said it—and “it is not convincing”; it doesn’t seem right.

12:27 Speaker 1 There is also a sefer called Sefer HaAgur, also by one of the Rishonim. It cites two people who said it that way. So the list is growing. Now, it says there, “my father and teacher.” I don’t know who that is; I haven’t done the research. It also cites another Rishon, and says there too that one should not say it. Fine, so there is a dispute here. The Alter Rebbe found enough sources to rule in accordance with that approach. I haven’t looked into it. It might be important to look. There is a sefer called Tosafos Hashalem. Someone named Gelis did the research to bring together all the manuscripts of Tosafos. It’s an enormous work—I think there is a volume for every parsha, almost fifty-three or fifty-four volumes. I don’t have its volume on Parshas Pinchas right now; it brings various versions from the Rishonim. Perhaps one could find a few more there who say “two Musaf offerings” for the festival. It’s just that all those who bring this up today present it as though it’s the Alter Rebbe against Tosafos. And Chabad chassidim write, to strengthen the case, that there is only the Alter Rebbe and no one else. But there are enough others who say it. In fact, one can find a source for it in the Rambam too. The problem is that with printed editions of the Rambam today, you can’t establish anything for certain, because the manuscripts differ from one another. But the Rambam says—depending on which edition you use—“and the Musaf offerings.” Interestingly, there are editions of the Rambam that say “and the Musaf offerings” for all the offerings on all the festivals, and editions that say “and the Musaf offering” for all of them. But earlier manuscripts show differences between the offerings. There is a sefer called Chikrei Lev, by one of the great Sephardic sages. It is very hard to hold in your hands, because the typeface in which those Sephardic works were printed is simply very hard to read—I don’t know, in [unclear] or something like that. Anyone who has ever handled those books

14:15 Speaker 1 knows they weren’t printed in ordinary square type. And they go on for pages and pages; there he gets into an entire detailed discussion: Why does the Rambam say “Musaf offerings” for one festival and “Musaf offering” for another? Since he doesn’t have a very good explanation, he suggests there may be a printing error. Maybe on Rosh Chodesh it should read one way, and elsewhere another way. But certainly, some manuscripts had “Musaf offerings” for Shabbos. For Rosh Hashanah they had “Musaf offerings,” and for Shabbos they had “Musaf offerings.” For the others, it depends on the manuscript. Now, for Rosh Hashanah we know there were two—hence “Musaf offerings”—because there are two goats. There is the goat—there is both the Musaf of Rosh Chodesh and the Musaf of Rosh Hashanah. There is an extensive discussion in Tosafos and in the Alter Rebbe’s Shulchan Aruch about this: How do we mention Rosh Chodesh on Rosh Hashanah? So there it is “Musaf offerings.” But why would Shabbos have “Musaf offerings”? What does Shabbos have? So they drew on the manuscripts, while in printed editions of the Rambam today they put “Musaf offering” everywhere. There is room for that too, because saying “Musaf offerings” on any festival could mean that if, say, you bring seven lambs, each lamb is a Musaf offering. It depends how you understand the word “Musaf”; it could refer to all the offerings, not only to two different kinds of Musaf offerings. So, as I said, there are manuscripts that say “Musaf offerings” for Shabbos. That provides some support for the Alter Rebbe’s approach. Yes, but manuscripts are very hard to interpret. So let’s leave that subject and try to understand the Alter Rebbe’s approach a little. After all, it is explicit in a number of places that the two loaves are not a Musaf offering. The two loaves, as we mentioned, are apparently meant to permit the new grain. Now, there are several views on whether they permit the new grain, or whether the new grain is permitted by the two

16:03 Speaker 1 The loaves. There is a lot to analyze here; the Rebbe has an entire sicha on it. But on a straightforward level, the two loaves—let’s take the Rambam. The Rambam, in Hilchos Temidin U’Musafin, which we’ll be studying soon, writes: “On every festival, an offering is brought”—that is the festival offering—“and it is included in the musaf. And on this day, additional offerings are brought.” That is not the musaf; it is the two loaves. And he says—in the parsha, that’s Vayikra. No, we don’t need to study Rambam; a five-year-old learning Chumash can see this. The musaf is mentioned in a particular section, the section of the musaf offerings. That’s Parshas Pinchas. There is another section, Parshas Emor, which is the section of the festivals. It isn’t the section of the musaf offerings; it discusses the essence of each Yom Tov. The two loaves appear in Emor, not in Pinchas. In the Torah, they are not part of the musaf. We see that on the second day of Pesach, too, there is a special offering that was brought: the omer offering, associated with Sefiras HaOmer. We don’t mention it in the prayers on the second day of Pesach. After saying “In the first month,” in Eretz Yisroel they say “And you shall offer a fire-offering to Hashem for the festival.” They don’t say the passage “When you come into the land and reap its harvest, you shall bring the omer”—the meal offering. In Eretz Yisroel, they don’t bring up the lamb offered with the omer; they don’t mention it. Why don’t we mention that offering? And then there is the Torah reading, too. The Torah reading was instituted by the Men of the Great Assembly. That we do have. Some things are mentioned in Musaf, and some in the Torah reading. Which is more significant historically is very hard to determine, because the Torah reading goes back to the Men of the Great Assembly. The text of the prayers was also instituted by the Men of the Great Assembly. On the other hand, it isn’t necessarily a question of whether the Men of the Great Assembly wanted us to say the verses. It could have to do with the sectarians, and we’ll get to that shortly. But the Torah reading was instituted by the Men of the Great Assembly. That is, not Torah reading in general, but taking out

17:57 Speaker 1 a second Torah scroll on a festival and mentioning the festival’s offering—that was instituted by the Men of the Great Assembly. So on every festival we take out another Torah scroll and read, “And in the first month...” On Sukkos there is the second day, the third day—each day has a different offering, and so on. “On the tenth day of the month” on Yom Kippur. Well, then, on the second day of Pesach, should we take out a Torah scroll and read about its offerings? Nobody does that. Why not? The fact that you bring a particular offering on a festival doesn’t mean I have to take out a Torah scroll for it. We take out a Torah scroll for the musaf offering. If it’s the omer offering or the offering of the two loaves, we don’t. On Yom Kippur, too, there are offerings brought as part of the service of the day, apart from the Yom Kippur musaf offering. Not just one offering—there are many offerings on Yom Kippur. We don’t take out a Torah scroll on account of them. So why, the Rebbe asked, would we take the goat offering associated with the two loaves and insert it into the festival’s Torah reading, if it isn’t part of the musaf? Neither the two loaves nor the goat is part of it. But before that, let’s pause for a moment over the wording of the siddur. In the siddur we mention the festival offerings. On every festival we use the same wording: “And their meal offerings and libations, as prescribed.” It looks as though they couldn’t be bothered to include all the verses. Instead of saying “And their meal offerings and libations, as prescribed,” one could say “And their meal offering: two tenths.” On each festival one could recite all the rest: the offering, the meal offering, “and one goat as a sin-offering, to atone for you.” But no—the wording is “And their meal offerings and libations, as prescribed.” We don’t mention those details; we don’t recite them from the verse. There are differences between versions of the text, including the version in Tosafos. Again, we won’t go into that, but everyone understands that there is a significant difference

19:50 Speaker 1 between reciting a verse in prayer and describing something in prayer. If you say in prayer, “As You wrote for us in Your Torah through Moshe Your servant,” you are about to recite verses. If you say, “And their meal offerings and libations, as prescribed,” that means they are to be brought as prescribed. You aren’t reciting a verse here. So, simply put, which is more central to the prayer? The part where you recite the verse. If you only give a brief summary of all the verses, apparently that part isn’t as important. We can understand that with meal offerings and libations: they aren’t the main part of the offering. A person can bring an offering today and bring its libations ten days later. One of the proofs that you can say Shema without tefillin is that it is like an offering without libations. Fine, so meal offerings and libations aren’t the main point here. But why do we specifically want to mention the offering? The meal offerings and libations are mentioned almost in passing, but you can’t combine them. Why is this less important? Why not say the words, “And one goat as a sin-offering, to atone for you”? What’s wrong with the Torah’s wording? Are we not allowed to say the words of the verse? There is a sicha of the Rebbe, unrelated to this, about the Pesach offering: it is more important to say verses that describe how it was offered. That isn’t relevant here. On Pesach, you have to read about how it was offered. But anyone with a head on his shoulders, even a five-year-old learning Chumash, understands that if, in prayer, you either recite a verse or take that verse and give some abbreviated, concise account of it, the verse is obviously more central. The early authorities say this as well. Many of them write that the scriptural passages are the main part of the offerings—that is, their mention in prayer. So why are some of the... There is a very well-known letter of the Rebbe, which has been interpreted in several ways. We won’t go into that. The Rebbe writes that the verses

21:37 Speaker 1 of the musaf offerings “are not the main part of the Musaf prayer, as is known.” Someone wanted to emend it, changing “are not the main part” to “are the main part.” It’s a letter of the Rebbe, and one can interpret it differently, but the straightforward meaning of “are not the main part” is exactly that. Why aren’t they the main part? Because, after the fact, one can fulfill one’s obligation without reciting the verses. But one should recite the verses. So you see, he writes that one should mention the verses of the offerings. There is a place where the Alter Rebbe writes, “It is customary.” There is a slight contradiction: in one place the Alter Rebbe writes that one should mention the verses, while elsewhere he writes that it is customary to mention them. If it’s a custom, that means it isn’t obligatory; it is just something one should do. That’s what it means. And there is another contradiction within this very issue. On the face of it, what is the simple reason that chassidim say “as prescribed”? What’s the problem? If we tell everyone to recite a whole list of verses, they get mixed up. There are so many, all there in the siddur. Someone says the ones for Pesach, someone the ones for Sukkos. They get completely confused. If I start reciting a list of meal offerings and libations for one kind of offering, then they made a general wording for all the festivals: “And their meal offerings and libations.” Nobody will get confused. After all, the Sephardim don’t actually recite the verses. Why? So they won’t get confused. Except on Shabbos: “And on the Shabbos day” is said every Shabbos, so nobody gets confused. Ashkenazim don’t get confused either, twelve times a year; they assume nobody will get confused. But from one festival to another, the wording changes. So people get confused, and the Sephardim say: after the fact, it is valid. Fine, we’ll rely on that. The Ashkenazim, though, make a point of reciting them. So one could say that this is the straightforward explanation: it is so people won’t get confused. But that raises several questions. If we explain it that way, the Alter Rebbe apparently rules that one must recite the verse from the book, because it is forbidden to recite, um... The Alter Rebbe rules...

23:27 Speaker 1 He writes that it is forbidden. He writes in section 49 that there is a halachah against reciting the Written Torah by heart. So the Alter Rebbe writes: “And one must recite it from a book.” In other words, even though there were once no siddurim, each person had to write down the verses of the Mussaf offerings for himself before the holiday and recite them that way. So I don’t understand what it means that the Sephardim might get confused. Apparently, the Sephardim held that you didn’t need the book, either. How is that itself a contradiction? In one place, reciting by heart; in another, there is a concern that they might get confused even with a written text. As he writes, they recite it from a book. What does that have to do with “one must recite”? Was that the custom? They didn’t write it down. They didn’t have pens. You say, okay, but in general, to say that they established the text this way doesn’t fit the Rebbe’s approach at all. To say that for, for... technical reasons they took the... the wording out and made it into this kind of... so that no one would get confused, to make it easier. Through Divine providence, they made it part of Chassidus. Not some—and not some... If you’re a Chabadnik, you have more reason to get confused than anyone else. Why? Because it’s not as if we have a fixed text. On Rosh Hashanah, after all, we say—not we; the approach... most of the Jewish people follow the practice of no longer saying “their meal offerings and libations,” and they add “and two goats for atonement.” You’re already changing the text, and we don’t say “and two goats for atonement”; we say “besides the burnt offering of the new month and its meal offering.” We say the whole verse, specifically. So you’re already bringing in verses, new verses. In other words, with the Rosh Hashanah verses, you change the wording about meal offerings and libations; they say “and two goats,” while here we say “besides the burnt offering of the new month.” On Yom Kippur, the Chabad custom—this is a matter of fundamental disagreement—is to say “and two goats for atonement” and add the verse “besides”

25:12 Speaker 1 “the sin offering of Yom Kippur and the daily burnt offering, and its meal offering and their libations.” So we add a verse and also say “and two goats,” which actually makes this approach very hard to understand. The text says “and two goats, besides the sin offering of Yom Kippur”—meaning there are three goats. That simply isn’t correct. There is a goat for atonement as part of each Mussaf offering. There is also the goat of the Yom Kippur sin offering. So either say “and two goats,” or say “besides the sin offering of Yom Kippur.” Our machzor says “and two goats, besides the sin offering of Yom Kippur,” and here it is also especially striking that with “besides the sin offering of Yom Kippur,” we have to retain the wording of the verse. There are things for which we do quote the verse. Sometimes we don’t quote the verse. Shavuos—as we mentioned, on Shavuos too we change the wording about meal offerings and libations. But once you’ve changed all that wording on Yom Kippur, Rosh Hashanah, and Shavuos, you have no standard. So why do we actually say it this way? Some say one thing, and to be honest, I looked through various sefarim, Rishonim and Acharonim, and searched. I didn’t find anyone who dwelt on this question. It’s a simple question about the siddur.

26:15 Speaker 1 Rashi says that the text is shortened, that the custom is to shorten it and say “meal offering”—they note the fact, but the question is why. Why not mention the goat? To say... On Yom Kippur it stands out most, because on Yom Kippur we already mention the words of the verse, “besides the sin offering of Yom Kippur.” That verse begins four words earlier. We start in the middle of the verse. It begins, “One male goat as a sin offering, besides the sin offering of Yom Kippur.” No, we don’t say “one male goat.” We supply that with... “for atonement,” with “a goat for atonement.” Wh-why don’t we finish the verses? Or, for example, on Rosh Hashanah we say, “besides the burnt offering of the new month and its meal offering.” That’s a nice wording for Aleinu. It works very well with the melody, but one could have said “its meal offering”—yes, it says “thirteen-tenths”—“and the burnt offering of the new month and two goats,” like that. For some things we use verses, and for others we say an oral formulation. This is really not the time to go on at length. But we’ll make one point, as time permits. On Shabbos we spoke here... On Shavuos, as we see from various proofs, the defining feature of Shavuos is the two loaves, and the two loaves are very closely bound up with Shavuos; they are the essence of the day. In fact, it’s an explicit verse. The verse says, “And on the day of the first fruits.” It doesn’t say “on the fifth day.” It should give a date, since Shavuos has no date. It could say “on the fifth day.” Instead it says, “on the day of the first fruits.” What is this day? There’s a day described as the tenth of the seventh month; then there’s the first month, on the fourteenth day, and the fifteenth of the seventh month. And there’s another date called—what is it?—“the day of the first fruits,” the day of the two loaves. Not only does it say “on the day of the first fruits,” but the verse continues: “When you bring a new meal offering to Hashem on your Shavuos, it shall be a holy convocation for you; you shall do no laborious work.” So the essence of the day is the day

28:25 Speaker 1 on which “you bring a new meal offering.” The two loaves are the essence of Shavuos. We discussed this at length; I don’t want to repeat it here. We also see in Parshas Emor that for every holiday it says, “You shall do no laborious work,” and afterward, “You shall bring a fire offering.” On Shavuos, the two loaves are mentioned first. Once you’ve mentioned the two loaves, you already have a holiday, because without the two loaves it isn’t a holiday. Afterward it says, “You shall do no laborious work,” and in fact it doesn’t mention bringing a fire offering, which could have a practical halachic implication. But forget about that. So we see that the sanctity of Shavuos is closely connected with the offerings of the two loaves. There’s a Rashi about this in Chagigah. Rashi speaks of the sanctity of the day and the sanctity... through its offerings. The offerings associated with the two loaves are the sanctity of Shavuos. So if the two loaves are so closely connected with the sanctity of the day, if the whole essence of Shavuos is the two loaves, then seemingly they deserve to be mentioned, don’t they? They’re an obligation of the day. But although one might explain it that way, no—not at all. On the contrary: precisely because the two loaves are the defining feature of Shavuos, they should not be mentioned. We explained earlier that Mussaf means that in honor of the holiday, you do something special: you add something to the daily offering. If something is an obligation of the day itself, you don’t need to mention it. And that is the wording of the Gemara. The Gemara says, “One for the obligation of the day and one for the Mussaf offerings.” Huh? The goat is part of the two loaves? Huh? All right, all right. Yes, we’ll explain why the goat is different. So the whole matter of the two loaves really is an obligation of the day. If it is an obligation of the day, then it isn’t Mussaf. Quite the opposite. Mussaf means you add something. There is a special day, and you add something on that day. The Gemara says this about the two loaves: the two loaves, the Gemara says,

30:30 Speaker 1 are an obligation of the day, not Mussaf. Sometimes the terminology can be confusing. Sometimes the Gemara uses the terms “something brought because of the day” and “something brought because of the bread.” It’s exactly the other way around: the Mussaf is because of the day, while the offerings associated with the two loaves are because of the bread. But sometimes the Gemara uses “obligation of the day” and “Mussaf offerings.” That isn’t a contradiction, and there’s no difficulty here. Briefly, you can understand it this way: “because of the bread” is an obligation—also an obligation of the day. What I mean by “because of the day” is that you add something in honor of the day. So in Mussaf we don’t mention everything. There may be something very closely connected with the day, so fine, but there is also something special that you bring as a Mussaf offering. This is also connected with an interesting question that Ibn Ezra raises. Whenever a number of Mussaf offerings are brought—say Rosh Chodesh falls on Shabbos, or... Rosh Chodesh. On Shabbos during Sukkos, several Mussaf offerings are brought. The Gemara rules that the trumpets are sounded once for all the offerings. Ibn Ezra asks whether, for the two loaves, they sounded the trumpets separately, or sounded them twice: once for the two loaves and once for the Mussaf offering. He has evidence in both directions, and I thought I had identified an explicit verse in the Mechilta, Sifrei, Yisro—in the Chumash. And Ibn Ezra—well, one could say... answer the question. But on the contrary, Ibn Ezra should have cited the verse. So it bothered me a great deal that Ibn Ezra seemed to overlook a verse. Later I saw that someone else asks this question. Well, that put my mind at ease. But your question is a strong one. The verse says, in Parshas Behaalosecha, “And on your days of rejoicing, on your appointed festivals, and on your new moons, you shall sound the trumpets over your burnt offerings and over your peace offerings.” When does it say to sound the trumpets? “On your appointed festivals,” and “over your peace offerings.” What are “your peace offerings”? There is only one time a year when communal peace offerings are brought. They said that.

32:29 Speaker 1 Every day in prayer, the communal peace offerings, [unclear], and you go up to someone and ask, “What are communal peace offerings?” He doesn’t know what communal peace offerings are. Those are brought with the two loaves. So the verse says that the trumpets must be sounded on your festivals and over your peace offerings—over the two loaves as well. To say that the verse means they should sound the trumpets once for both is not entirely plausible. So why say that at all? It is a law in its own right. You could say it is talking about a case where they don’t have the two loaves; you could offer all kinds of intricate explanations. It isn’t simple. Fine, we won’t get into that, but apparently there is a special requirement to sound the trumpets for the two loaves. The two loaves are one thing, and Musaf is another. Incidentally, since we’re talking about sounding the trumpets and the song, there are many Chassidic stories—and this isn’t our subject at all—and also many children’s tapes that explain how someone brought a sin offering, and when a Jew brought a sin offering, suddenly the trumpets began to sound, the Levites began to sing, and the person confessed. Well, it’s a very good story, but it goes against halachah. Halachah says the trumpets are not sounded for an individual offering. So it’s a nice story that the Levites began singing and so on. But fine, it has sources, and it can be explained. It isn’t the straightforward meaning. In any case, back to our subject. There is the obligation of the day—the two loaves—and there is Musaf. The Musaf prayer corresponds to Musaf, not to the obligation of the day. The two loaves are offered in the morning, and that has nothing to do with Musaf. Perhaps we can explain all this with some background. With Musaf, with every Musaf, many burnt offerings are brought. Fourteen bulls, thirteen bulls, seven bulls. What? Each festival has a different number. You simply have to picture it. I see that people think of the whole subject of offerings as something vague, something

34:21 Speaker 1 abstract. Just picture many bulls being brought to the Beis Hamikdash in a practical, physical way. Seven bulls are burnt offerings. Then they bring a goat for atonement—one goat for atonement. A goat, not a bull, for atonement. So what is Musaf? Every Musaf has a goat as a sin offering and many bulls. In particular, with the two loaves there are also peace offerings. What is Musaf—a burnt offering or a sin offering? Which is more important here? What is the main thing? There is a general rule in halachah that a sin offering precedes a burnt offering. So clearly, the sin offering. That is, the sin offering is most important; it is brought first. But the verse does not express that rule, because each time Scripture mentions the burnt offering first, and the burnt offering is presented before the sin offering. Not only that: the Rambam writes that with the Musaf offering of Sukkos, there is a halachah that the burnt offering comes before the sin offering. So many later authorities argue that although the Rambam mentions one Musaf offering, he means all of them: with every Musaf, the burnt offering precedes the sin offering. And I don’t know why they don’t cite the Tosafos Yeshanim, which explicitly says the opposite. There is a Tosafos in Yoma—I haven’t seen it cited—that explicitly says no: the order on Yom Tov is to bring the sin offering and then the burnt offering. So there is a problem here. The sin offering is just one offering and is mentioned second in the verse, but the law is that it should be brought first. So which is more important here? What is the point of Musaf? In many places, though, we find that the main element of Musaf is the sin offering. Musaf is for atonement. This has practical implications. There is the question of whether someone under twenty may lead the Musaf prayer, because he has no connection to the Musaf offering. He can pray Musaf—he can do whatever he wants—but can he fulfill the congregation’s obligation? Because Musaf is connected to the half-shekel, to the communal offerings.

36:16 Speaker 1 Someone under twenty is not obligated in the communal offering, so he cannot. As for whether a woman is obligated in Musaf, she too is not connected to the half-shekel. But although she is not connected to the half-shekel, she is connected to the atonement of Musaf. There is an explicit Gemara, as we heard, that a woman who has given birth—who, as far as I know, is a woman—receives atonement through the Musaf offering. So women do receive atonement through Musaf; that connects them to its atonement. There are many sources. One of the Rishonim uses the wording, “And there are also Musaf burnt offerings”—the Musaf is the atonement; that is the one offering. There are burnt offerings too. On the other hand, as we mentioned from the Jerusalem Talmud, you bring fourteen bulls and one goat. Tell me, which is more important? You bring fourteen of one and one of the other, and the burnt offering is mentioned first. So in the Alter Rebbe, apparently, there is evidence of what the Alter Rebbe holds about whether Musaf brings atonement. There is something curious in the Alter Rebbe’s ruling. Tosafos asks in several places: why don’t we take out a second Torah scroll on Shabbos to read “And on the Shabbos day”? Every Shabbos, let’s take out a second Torah scroll and read “And on the Shabbos day.” Yes, that would be very boring—the same Torah reading every Shabbos. Some people [unclear] talk about the Torah reading; after all, it would be the same reading every Shabbos. Fine, that isn’t a reason not to take out a scroll and read “And on the Shabbos day.” Tosafos gives three answers, and the Tur gives three answers. The Alter Rebbe has all three of Tosafos’s answers before him but omits one, bringing only two. The Alter Rebbe says there are only two verses in “And on the Shabbos day.” You have to make do with two verses. Another answer: if we read “And on the Shabbos day” every Shabbos, it wouldn’t just be the same reading; it would be the same haftarah. The haftarah has to relate to the parsha. We would say the same haftarah every Shabbos.

38:06 Speaker 1 It would be easy for me to get used to saying the haftarah, but that is the answer the Alter Rebbe brings. Tosafos, however, gives another answer: the whole point of taking out a second Torah scroll is to read about the offerings for atonement, and Shabbos is not for atonement. There are no sin offerings on Shabbos. There is only “And on the Shabbos day, two lambs”—the Shabbos burnt offering. There is only a burnt offering, unlike on all the festivals and Rosh Chodesh. The Alter Rebbe does not bring that answer. Perhaps that is some evidence for the Alter Rebbe’s view that the point of the haftarah reading is not atonement. And with Musaf too, there are several indications that Musaf is not necessarily about atonement. Some Rishonim understand that the purpose of Musaf is atonement. The Alter Rebbe does not mention that. He mentions it there once, but does not mention atonement. Apparently, on the straightforward level, as we mentioned earlier, Musaf is an addition to the daily offering. You bring the daily offering every day; today you add something. So it follows that the whole point of Musaf is the burnt offering. Every day you bring the daily burnt offering; today you bring something in addition to it. You add something alongside the daily offering, together with it, right next to the morning daily offering—something of the same kind, precisely as an addition. On Shabbos, two lambs are brought; the Rishonim describe the two lambs as an addition. And on each festival there is a different number. The Rambam’s wording is very precise: he lists each festival and its Musaf offerings, and writes, “The procedure for the burnt offerings is like the procedure for the daily offering.” It is really a continuation of the daily offering, an addition to it. And what is the point of a burnt offering? A burnt offering is not for atonement. It does also atone, for various things. A burnt offering is for “a pleasing aroma.” Again, there is a verse—let’s call it the order of the offerings. In that order, it says that an offering is brought to Hashem, “a fire offering, a pleasing aroma.” That is

39:55 Speaker 1 To give Hashem pleasure, you bring Him a sacrifice to be burned on the fire—not to atone for anything, but as a pleasing aroma. So on a festival, when you want to bring another pleasing aroma, you bring more burnt offerings; you add to the burnt offerings. If there is a problem and a sin needs atonement, then you have to bring a sin offering to atone for it. Fine. But the order is that first you bring [unclear]. That is what the Gemara says: first you bring the advocate to come before the king and appease him. Afterward you bring the king a gift. So the sin offering has to come first. Tosafos says this about the additional offerings of a festival: there is the advocate, which is the sin offering, but afterward you bring the gift. The gift is the main point of the offering. That is the burnt offering. The sin offering is not really connected to the festival. Think about it. Just read the plain meaning of the verse. It says, “And one goat as a sin offering, to atone for you”—to atone. That means it is connected not to the festival, but to a particular transgression. So how is it that on Pesach everyone suddenly commits some transgression? And on Shavuos, and on every Rosh Chodesh, there is some particular transgression? There is an entire discussion in Shevuos about which sin it atones for, what kind of sin. But obviously it atones for some particular sin, and the sin did not necessarily happen that very day. There is a sin. There is something very strange here: an offering that is obligatory for the festival, an obligation of the day. An obligation of the day. You have to bring the additional offering on the festival, but you bring it because someone—or many people in the community—committed an offense involving impurity and the Beis Hamikdash or its sacred offerings. So it is not really a festival offering. It is very hard to understand the wording, the definition, of the Yom Tov sin offering. The Chasam Sofer explains in Shevuos that the sin offering and the day itself together are

41:46 Speaker 1 the components that bring about atonement. Because the day is Pesach, or Shavuos, or Sukkos, or Rosh Hashanah, or Rosh Chodesh, the sin offering, together with that special day, brings people atonement. The Keren Orah says there is a scriptural decree that certain sin offerings have to be brought on a festival. But all the difficulties in analyzing this show that there is a technical problem here: it is an offering for a sin, yet it is tied to a particular festival. It is connected—the Gemara asks: Can the offerings for one occasion be brought on another? If you did not bring an offering for a particular festival, can you bring it on another festival? What does that mean? You did not bring it on Pesach, so you will bring the sin offering on Shavuos? It is a sin—it is—on Rosh Chodesh, when Rosh Chodesh falls on Shabbos. It is an offering of that particular day because it is an offering for a sin. Yet there is a law that it must be brought on a particular Yom Tov. You can see this in the weekly parsha too, in the passage about libations. Libations are not brought with every offering. They are brought with a Yom Tov offering. So Tosafos asks—really, the Gemara asks—might we bring libations with the Yom Tov sin offering, since it is required because of the festival? After all, the verse says “on your appointed festivals,” and libations are brought on your appointed festivals. The answer is that although it is required for the festival, it is a sin offering, not an offering of the kind brought as a vow or a voluntary gift. It is not exactly a Yom Tov offering. It is a sin offering brought for a particular sin, and therefore libations are not brought with it. Libations are not brought for a sin. So again we see the problem of definition here: on the one hand it belongs to the festival, and on the other hand it is for a sin. To return to our point, since the main element of Yom Tov

43:31 Speaker 1 is the burnt offering, the pleasing aroma of the ten additional burnt offerings, when we pray we want to mention the burnt offering, as I wrote, as the main element of the offerings. Afterward we add all the secondary things: the libations and the goat for a sin offering. There is something else distinctive here. Even though the goat for a sin offering comes first, it is not the essence of the additional offering, of its ten burnt offerings. Its purpose is to atone for sins. Well, impurity involving the Beis Hamikdash and its sacred offerings—fine, that needs to be mentioned. I cited Tosafos in Yoma—I do not want to dwell on this at length now, but there is really very strong evidence in Tosafos in Yoma that the goat brought as a sin offering with the additional offerings and the goat brought as a sin offering with the Two Loaves are connected to each other, just as [unclear]. All right, there is a passage in the Gemara that tries to establish how we know that the Kohen Gadol is separated from his home for seven days. There is a teaching that derives that this was done not only for the inauguration service, but also on Yom Kippur. The Gemara asks: What shows you that this means Yom Kippur? Maybe it means Pesach? Maybe Sukkos? Maybe Shavuos? Maybe Rosh Hashanah? It is a whole discussion. The Gemara tries to compare the inauguration service with Yom Kippur. Why Yom Kippur specifically? It tries to find common features between each of the festivals and the inauguration service. So maybe it means Atzeres, Shavuos, since Atzeres is one day. Maybe the Kohen Gadol has to separate himself for seven days before Atzeres. The Gemara says Atzeres is different because Atzeres has... It is a whole discussion. There the Gemara gets into the offerings. It says the offerings of Atzeres differ from those of Yom Kippur. In short, there is no need to go into it at length for our purposes, but Tosafos there mentions the similarity between Shavuos and the inauguration service. The Gemara there distinguishes between Yom Kippur and Sukkos, and Tosafos sets that discussion aside

45:24 Speaker 1 and says that on Shavuos there are two goats, one for the Two Loaves and one for the additional offering; and at the inauguration service there were also two goats, one for Rosh Chodesh and one for the inauguration service. It is the same thing. But what does it mean that there are two goats? One goes with the Two Loaves and the other is an obligation of the day. I found that the Siach Yitzchak discusses this Tosafos. He says that from this Tosafos we see that the goat brought for atonement with the Two Loaves is not part of the Two Loaves, just as [unclear]. It is not the Two Loaves; it is something distinct. That is clear from the straightforward meaning: the goat is for atonement. If it is for atonement, what does that mean? Do you bring it because you want to adorn the loaves? You could bring all sorts of beautiful things with the loaves. You bring an offering to atone, so it is no different from the other offering that atones. The Siach Yitzchak points to the Gemara in Zevachim and Shevuos, and we will finish with this. The Gemara asks: Why are the two goats of Atzeres brought? Why are two goats needed for atonement? What, did someone commit a transgression and then, a few minutes later, commit another transgression? The Gemara says yes: for impurity that occurred between the bringing of one and the other. After they brought the first offering, there might have been another need... On Shavuos we are very concerned about this, though for the rest of the year we can go a whole month without offerings. But on Shavuos—one could explain this homiletically. Lag BaOmer, Shavuos, what about [unclear]? Lag BaOmer. Fine, that is not our subject right now. But the Gemara says there is an obligation to bring a goat for impurity involving the Beis Hamikdash and its sacred offerings, and then another goat just a few minutes later. Perhaps an instance of impurity occurred between the two? So the Siach Yitzchak raises a question about the Gemara, although his question can be answered. What does it mean to ask why the two goats of Atzeres are brought? One is brought because of the loaves and one because of the additional offering. This shows that the goat brought with the two

47:08 Speaker 1 This one isn’t for the two loaves; it’s a goat brought for atonement. This goat, too, is brought for atonement. It atones for something. So what does it atone for? Impurity affecting the Beis Hamikdash and its sacred offerings? The Gemara concludes: From here we learn that the Jewish people would have been fit to offer two goats every single day, but the Torah spared them the expense. Because if you’re concerned that a technical problem might have arisen between the offering of one goat and the next, then every day, in addition to the daily offering, you could have brought two goats. Perhaps one sin and then another sin—two goats? But that costs a great deal of money. People barely give money as it is. To have them pay for two goats every day—that’s a lot of money. So the Torah spared the Jewish people’s money, and we don’t bring two goats. In principle, then, we should have brought two goats every day, and on Shavuos this is an addition. What’s special about Shavuos? You should have brought them every day. There’s a certain addition here, in that on Shavuos you do bring them. So, on the one hand, the two goats aren’t part of the principal additional offering. They’re not the same... On the other hand, that’s the whole addition of Shavuos—something you should really have brought every day. It’s like “the two daily offerings according to their prescribed procedure.” We mention the two daily offerings according to their prescribed procedure, even though they aren’t additional offerings, because they’re something you bring every day. So here you have two daily offerings of your own, and we mention this on Shavuos. There’s still more to clarify, but this isn’t the place to go on at length, especially since our host is pressing us for time. There’s... I need [unclear] from the Rabbi before I tell the story of the arrest. It’ll be fine. There’s... No, we need to clarify the position of the Rebbe of [unclear] regarding eleven atonements. Why do they say in the order of [unclear] of [unclear] eleven atonements? It’s simply a repetition of what was just said. I’m very sorry. Two goats, [unclear] eleven

48:51 Speaker 1 atonements. Why is it obvious that there are three goats? Understanding the definition of eleven atonements—that there are two distinct categories—isn’t our subject. But in any event, may we merit—if I understood correctly, the Rabbi said that during the days on which the offerings can be made up, it’s possible to offer all the sacrifices associated with the two loaves, and the entire offering—may we truly merit to offer them with [unclear]. May we merit [unclear], as it says in the book [unclear], with [unclear]. And perhaps we really will bring another goat when we go to greet Moshiach in the Beis Hamikdash, immediately, right now. Thank you, Rabbi Moshe Aharon. Now we’ll ask the mara d’asra of Kfar Chabad, Rabbi Ashkenazi, to give the second class.

00:00 Speaker 1 I see someone has submitted a question here about the palace. I actually wanted to address it, but they wrote “chestnut,” with an ayin, so I can’t address it right now. Even when talking about the palace, you have to know how to spell it. When it’s written incorrectly, then—after all, I spoke about the palace with an aleph, not the chestnut with an ayin. Ah. I see the rabbi here spoke about the siddur. I don’t want to address the third point right now; I’m talking about something else connected to this side of the matter. Since the two loaves are also connected to Chassidus, we’ll say something from nigleh and something connected to Chassidus, connected to the siddur. In the morning—we’ll start with the blessing of the new month. We say: “May He Who performed miracles for our forefathers and redeemed them from slavery to freedom soon redeem us and gather our dispersed people from the four corners of the earth, uniting all Israel; and let us say, Amen.” That is the wording every Jew generally uses, in Nusach Sefard, when blessing the new month. We say: “And gather our dispersed people from the four corners of the earth, uniting all Israel; and let us say, Amen.” What is the connection to the Jewish people? The Jewish people are something good and important, but what is the connection between Rosh Chodesh and the Jewish people? What is the explanation? In any event, I don’t want to dwell on it, but it seems that all the wording that follows—“May Hakadosh Boruch Hu renew it for us for life and peace, for joy and gladness”—is connected to the sanctification of the new month in the time of the Beis Hamikdash, based on sighting the moon. The Rogatchover says there were six months for which messengers would go out. So there you have gladness and joy and consolation and life and peace—six months. In any event, it seems that all this wording is connected to sanctifying the new month. Sanctifying the new month. Historically, when the new month was sanctified based on sighting the moon, a beis din would sit and wait for witnesses to determine whether or not to extend the month. If the witnesses arrived in time,

02:52 Speaker 1 they made it a short month. On the thirtieth day of the month—that is, what would have been the thirtieth day of Nissan—they already made that day Rosh Chodesh Iyar. If the witnesses did not come, they extended the month. If they decided to make the month only twenty-nine days long, what would they do? How would they inform the communities in the Diaspora? The Gemara—the Mishnah in Rosh Hashanah—says that at first they would light beacons. They would light beacons on the hilltops. In a single night, the entire Diaspora knew that the new month had been sanctified and the preceding month was short. Later, when the Kutim caused trouble and began trying to mislead the Jewish people, they started sending messengers. They started sending messengers. Of course, now time became a factor. The messengers had to arrive by Yom Kippur. They had only eight days, six days of travel; for Nissan they had twelve days of travel, excluding Shabbos. They couldn’t reach every place. So, consequently... This was the practice until the year three hundred and... [unclear]. We won’t go into that now, but in any event, they began to sanctify the month differently. They discontinued sanctification based on sighting the moon and began sanctifying it by calculation. For Hillel established the calendar through the end of the sixth millennium, until—until Moshiach comes and they begin sanctifying the month again based on sighting the moon. Now that the months are sanctified by calculation, people observe one day of Yom Tov in Eretz Yisroel and two days outside Eretz Yisroel. Why observe two days? After all, we know when Rosh Chodesh will be. The Gemara says: “Because they sent word from there: Be careful to maintain the custom of your ancestors.” Be careful to maintain the custom of your ancestors, who observed two days outside Eretz Yisroel. Why? “For at times the government might issue a decree”—perhaps the government will issue a decree and... Rashi explains: What kind of decree might the government issue? Rashi says it might prohibit Torah study. People would stop studying Torah,

05:23 Speaker 1 and then they would forget the rules for calculating the calendar and become confused. That is why the custom outside Eretz Yisroel is to observe two days. The question is, then, if the concern outside Eretz Yisroel is a government decree, what about Eretz Yisroel? Why do they observe one day there? The Meiri says—and I think this is the only answer given—that in Eretz Yisroel there is no concern that Torah will be forgotten. Let Bennett come, let a prophet come, let everyone come—it won’t help them at all. In Eretz Yisroel, “it will not be forgotten from the mouths of their descendants.” Consequently, they were not concerned and relied on the rules for calculating the calendar. But outside Eretz Yisroel there is concern about a decree by a non-Jewish government, so they established that two days should be observed. Now, in practice, what counts as outside Eretz Yisroel, and what counts as Eretz Yisroel? There is a disagreement between the Rambam and the Ritva. According to the Rambam, in all places—let’s start with the Ritva. The Ritva holds that it depends on whether the place is in Eretz Yisroel or outside it. Outside Eretz Yisroel the custom is two days; in Eretz Yisroel it is one day. According to the Rambam, it makes no difference whether a place is in Eretz Yisroel or outside it. Rather, if it was a settled place in the time of the Beis Hamikdash, where Jews lived and the messengers reached it, then, since they observed one day there at the time based on the messengers’ arrival, they observe one day. If it is in Eretz Yisroel but is a new settlement, or the messengers did not reach it, they observe two days, as outside Eretz Yisroel. This is a well-known disagreement that once gave rise to a major debate, and the Rebbe was asked about it. I personally once asked the Rebbe about this, when the shluchim arrived in Eretz Yisroel. The Rebbe had raised it himself, saying that Rabbi Tcholer[?] had been a groom in Petach Tikvah, and he asked Rabbi Tcholer[?] about the fact that Petach Tikvah is a new place, with no settlement there in the time of the Beis Hamikdash. So, seemingly, according to the Rambam, they should

07:29 Speaker 1 observe two days. Rabbi Tcholer[?] discussed it at length. To be honest, I don’t remember what conclusion Rabbi Tcholer[?] reached, but in any event, the Rebbe once raised it at the table upstairs. Later, when the shluchim came, they argued: What does this mean—should we observe two days? Jerusalem was settled in the time of the Beis Hamikdash, so it observes one day, but Kfar Chabad was not a settlement in the time of the Beis Hamikdash. What do the details have to do with it? But in any event, it was not a settlement. I asked the Rebbe about it then. I was here for Shavuos, and the Rebbe did not answer me. Then, on Rosh Hashanah, the secretariat informed me in the Rebbe’s name that the Rebbe had asked them to convey an answer to what I had asked on Shavuos: “Dos nisht naye shtayger”—they should not introduce new customs. They should continue as they had until now, observing one day in every place. So this is a disagreement between the Rambam and the Rosh: whether observing it outside—whether outside—whether it depends on being outside... Hm? Two days. Outside Eretz Yisroel, two days on Shavuos. Regarding two days, at the end of the Rosh. Rosh Chodesh is a Torah law, but this concerns the two days. In any event, let’s return now to this subject of sanctifying the new month, of the second of Shvat. Last Shabbos, before Shavuos, the night before Shavuos, we announced that Rosh Chodesh Sivan would be on Wednesday. What does that mean? It will be on Wednesday, right? Ah, Wednesday—Friday, sorry. It will be on Friday. What does it mean that it will be on Friday? Is it certain that it’s Friday? In Eretz Yisroel it is Friday, because Shavuos will be on the sixth of Sivan. But here in Brooklyn that’s not quite so precise. It’s Friday. Yet it could also be that Shabbos is Rosh Chodesh, because, after all, we observe Shavuos—it should be on the sixth of Sivan. We observe it on the sixth and the seventh, on two days. That

09:37 Speaker 1 It says that this is a matter of doubt. What is going on? Outside Eretz Yisroel, they announce when Rosh Chodesh will be, but it would seem to remain uncertain. They announce it based on the molad: according to the calculation, it should fall on such-and-such a day. But when Yom Tov comes—when Pesach comes, when Sukkos comes—we don’t know for certain; it’s a doubt. In practice, though, they announce that Rosh Chodesh will be on that day, because that is what the calculation shows. But the second day there is only “the custom of your forefathers in your hands.” In practice, it is not certain. It’s a doubt. An egg laid on one day is permitted on the other; one laid on the other day is permitted on the first. It’s not so simple. So the whole wording here can be understood as intending to explain when and how Rosh Chodesh will be certain, not doubtful. It goes like this. First, what is the Rambam’s view? What is the concern? Why do we keep two days? Because of a decree, lest… a decree. So we say: “He will redeem us soon.” When the Geulah comes, there will be no decree based on “lest.” There will be no concern that things might go wrong. That addresses the Rambam’s reason. As for the Ritva’s reason, concerning Eretz Yisroel and the Diaspora, we say, “And gather our dispersed from the four corners of the earth.” All of Israel—all, all of Israel—will be in Eretz Yisroel. If all of Israel is in Eretz Yisroel, then in Eretz Yisroel they keep one day, not two. The question is, even within Eretz Yisroel, the Land of the Promise extends to the Euphrates River. How long is the journey from Jerusalem to the Euphrates? Seventy days. That’s what we say in the order of… In Eretz Yisroel we begin on 7 Cheshvan, so that the last person can reach the Euphrates River—the last person in Eretz Yisroel can reach the Euphrates. In other words, someone who hears about Rosh Chodesh can’t get there in nine days. So what will happen then? Again—

11:51 Speaker 1 Shavuos will come. Yom Kippur will come. There aren’t nine days. What will all those people do? What will all those people who live there do? Will they again keep two days—two days where they are? So here it says: “All Israel are chaverim.” What is the concern? Originally, they sanctified the month by signaling with torches, and with torches the entire Diaspora knew when Rosh Chodesh was. What happened? The Kutim disrupted it. The Kutim began to confuse people. So it says, “All Israel are chaverim,” and all of Israel will be chaverim. It doesn’t say here, “All, all Israel are chaverim”—“All Israel are chaverim.” The point of those words is that they are trustworthy. If they are trustworthy, then we can go back to using torches, and everyone will know that there is only one day. All of Eretz Yisroel, in a single night, as far as the Euphrates and even beyond it, will know that it is Rosh Chodesh. Once I said this to someone, and he told me that nowadays we don’t need all those torches. We have the internet, which gets the word out immediately. But there can be mistakes on the internet, too. There are cyberattacks that cause confusion. But when all Israel are chaverim, no one causes confusion. Everyone wants to hear what the beis din decided. So there is no concern. Rosh Chodesh, then, is always one day. In other words, the day I’ve just announced for Rosh Chodesh will be the day for everyone. Even if people are outside Eretz Yisroel, there is no concern according to the Rambam. Why? Because there is no exile. If they are in Eretz Yisroel and all Israel are chaverim, then that is… [unclear]. I wanted to mention it, but it isn’t the main point. Now, the two loaves have already been discussed. The two loaves are—huh?

13:56 Speaker 2 What, what?

13:56 Speaker 1 What, what? Go on.

14:00 Speaker 2 In the morning.

14:01 Speaker 1 Why in the morning? Why not immediately?

14:03 Speaker 2 No.

14:04 Speaker 1 I think the question is also why it says “in the evening.” Because it won’t help for this Rosh Chodesh anymore. So it says “in the evening,” not immediately. He is speaking about the… about the… I want to say something else. I asked the rosh yeshivah’s permission to speak about something very personal that has been pressing on me a great deal lately. I think that without Tanya, you can’t get through this prayer. It’s written right there. All of Tanya is written here in the siddur, and I don’t understand how someone who doesn’t study Tanya understands the prayer. Every morning we say: “Blessed are You, Hashem, our G-d and G-d of our fathers, accustom us to Your Torah and attach us to Your mitzvos. Do not bring us to sin, transgression or iniquity, nor to trial or disgrace. Do not let the yetzer hara rule over us. Distance us from a bad person and a bad companion, attach us to the yetzer tov and to good deeds, and compel our inclination to be subservient to You.” We say all of this every morning. Can someone tell me how one phrase connects to the next? Listen, it’s already quite a mixture of requests, seemingly all jumbled together. First, we ask, “Do not let the yetzer hara rule over us”—that it shouldn’t rule over us. Then we ask, “Compel our inclination to be subservient to You.” Which is more important? Which is greater: “Compel our inclination” or “Do not let the yetzer hara rule over us”? “Compel our inclination.” The yetzer hara is still there, but it is subdued. So why do we first ask that the yetzer hara not rule over us? You’re already asking that our inclination be subdued. And if you ask that the yetzer hara not rule over us, then why do you ask that our inclination be subdued? What is going on here? There’s something else, too. You’re speaking about the yetzer hara. Before that, there was another subject. Suddenly, in the middle, they put in “a bad person and a bad companion.” That’s about a person and his fellow; it should have been put at the end. And there are more and more things that repeat

16:10 Speaker 1 themselves, and things that aren’t understood. I don’t want to go into it now; it’s simply hard for me to speak at length about all these unpleasant things. I want to say one thing: In my humble opinion, I’ve found two places in the prayers where the prayer speaks about beinonim—not tzaddikim, not a tzaddik who has evil within him, and not a tzaddik who is wholly good, but a beinoni. The Alter Rebbe defines the level of a beinoni in chapter 14 of Tanya as a level attainable by every person. If it is attainable by every person, then the prayer must have been instituted for that level. Tzaddikim have other prayers. What does this mean for us? That a beinoni, always and forever, has never committed a transgression in his life and never will. The Rebbe says that “has never committed a transgression in his life” means that he has not… What does that mean? If he committed a transgression, can he no longer be a beinoni? He can do teshuvah and bring himself to a level where he has never committed a transgression in his life. But a beinoni has two different times. There is the time of prayer, the time of Shema, when he experiences love, and that love is openly felt in his heart. But that is only during prayer. After he finishes praying, an impression of the love he felt remains, but his heart is no longer quite as it was. Now let’s look at what this explanation says. It speaks about two times in a person’s life: the time of prayer and the rest of the day. During prayer, for the… for the beinoni, as a rule, it is “Compel our inclination to be subservient to You.” And the yetzer hara during the rest of the day? What is it like for him then? “Do not let the yetzer hara rule over us.” The yetzer hara doesn’t rule over him. On the other hand, he does have a yetzer hara; it doesn’t give up. Thoughts come to him now, and he overcomes them, but they are still there. He asks Hakadosh Boruch Hu to help him be a beinoni. So the first thing he asks Hakadosh Boruch Hu is that he be at a level where… How is it that he has never committed a transgression? He begins by saying… [unclear]. “Do not bring us to sin or to transgression.” Many, many commentators on the Talmud explain this, and our Sages say that “transgression” can simply mean thoughts of transgression—an ordinary thought. So that is what he asks: “Do not bring us to transgression.” As we said, we are talking now about the rest of the day. So up to this point he says, “Do not bring us to sin or to transgression,” so that even a transgression won’t enter him, and… “Do not let the yetzer hara rule over us.” As Tanya says, this yetzer hara must not bring him to actual transgressions. He overcomes it, too. He has to ask Hakadosh Boruch Hu for help from Heaven so that he won’t… And for that he says, “Do not bring us to trial or to disgrace.” Because even… in that chapter of Tanya about the beinoni—even someone who is a beinoni today needs to ask for this. If he faces a trial, he too might, G-d forbid, stumble. Nothing guarantees that he will be as he should. So he asks, “Do not bring us to trial or to disgrace.” Here he then adds the conclusion of the sequence in chapter 12 of Tanya: “Distance us from a bad person and a bad companion.” At the end of chapter 12, it explains that a beinoni must be careful not only… but also in matters concerning his fellow. Yes, as we understand… [unclear]

18:20 Speaker 1 He has that now, though. He asks Hakadosh Boruch Hu to help him be a beinoni. So the first thing he asks of Hakadosh Boruch Hu is that he reach a level where… How is it that he did not commit a transgression? He introduces it this way—put this in where Rabbah said that he did not have even a “milsa.” That he should not have a “milsa” in his pocket—that is the whole point, of course. “And do not bring us to sin or to transgression.” There are many, many commentators on the Talmud who explain this, and our Sages say elsewhere that an unspecified “transgression” means thoughts of transgression. A human thought. When one simply says “a matter of transgression”—wherever it says “a matter of transgression.” So he asks not to be brought to transgression. As we said, we are not talking about something that I dwell on all day. So he says, up to this point: “Not to sin and not to transgression”—that it should not enter him, that he should not have even a transgression… “And do not let the evil inclination rule over us.” Of course, as Tanya says, this means that the evil inclination should not bring him to actual transgressions. So he, too, must struggle. He needs to ask Hakadosh Boruch Hu for help from Heaven so that he will not… And concerning this he says: “And do not bring us to a test or to disgrace.” Because even if… After all, in the chapter of Tanya we are discussing, even someone who is a beinoni today needs to ask. If he faces a test, he too might, G-d forbid, fail. There is no guarantee. He has no assurance that he will act as he should. So that is what he asks: “Do not bring us to a test or to disgrace.” Here he only adds afterward—this completes the progression in chapter 12 of Tanya—“And distance us from a bad person and a bad companion.” The end of chapter 12 explains that the beinoni must deal not only with… but also with matters involving another person. Yes, as we understand from [unclear].

20:35 Speaker 1 From a friend: if he... if they did him harm, then he has to overcome himself and speak only well of them. So that is what he asks for: “Keep us away from a bad person and a bad friend.” Why? He isn’t asking to be saved and kept away so that he won’t face a test. Rather, if, G-d forbid, this person is his friend and has done him harm, and he has to overcome it, perhaps he won’t be able to. That is what he is asking about. Later, during davening, he says, “And compel our inclination to be subservient to You.” So the rabbi brought himself into... some kind of exile. In any case, on that basis, the whole continuation here makes sense. That’s one point. A second point—just let me finish. Afterward I’ll... What? No, I didn’t mean to. Huh?

21:41 Speaker 3 What is a “harmful encounter”?

21:45 Speaker 1 That “harmful encounter”—we’ll leave that for next year. I still haven’t managed to understand the... I know what a harmful encounter is, but I don’t know how to resolve this. When I say the Yehi Ratzon for the Nesi’im in the morning, I have quite a few people in mind. If I listen to what I’m saying, I have a calm day. If I don’t, I get all sorts of things: a harmful encounter, a bad friend, and anything else you can imagine. Here in Uva Letziyon, we say: “Blessed is He, our G-d, Who created us for His glory. May He open our hearts to His Torah and place in our hearts love and awe of Him.” Maybe someone can explain what we’re asking for: “Place in our hearts love and awe of Him.” First of all, you already asked in Ahavas Olam, “Unite our hearts to love and fear Your name.” Why are you asking again, “Place in our hearts love and awe of Him”? You already asked in Ahavas Olam. Why repeat it again and again? There it says, “Unite our hearts to love and fear Your name,” while here we say, “Place in our hearts love and awe of Him.” There we say, “Unite our hearts”; here it says, “Place in our hearts.” There are something like ten differences between the two. What’s going on here? I think that here, again, we’re talking about our hearts. In Ahavas Olam, we’re talking about the heart. Before Shema and davening, I ask, “Unite our hearts to love and fear Your name”—our hearts, both inclinations, the good inclination and the evil inclination, and [unclear]. So I ask, “Unite our hearts.” After davening, when a person is already going about the day’s business, he has finished davening. What does he have left? Only the impression in his mind. So he has to ask that this impression remain in his mind, and that something of it remain in his heart. That is why he says—he doesn’t say

24:00 Speaker 1 “Unite our hearts.” That no longer applies to him, because he has finished davening. Rather, what does he ask for after davening, for the rest of the day? He asks, “Place in our hearts.” May that impression that was in his mind remain in his heart. He doesn’t say, “Unite our hearts,” because that doesn’t apply now. But “place in our hearts” does apply. On that basis, we can also understand what follows: “To do His will and serve Him with a whole heart.” In any case, I’ll continue next year. Okay. I’m Chizkiya Raz[?]. We’ll see.

00:00 Speaker 1 Rabbi Ro’in. Rabbi Ro’in, [unclear] Shmuel. Now we’ll ask Rabbi Yishai Hertzel, Rabbi Yishai Hertzel, [unclear].

00:25 Speaker 2 All the greatness.

00:30 Speaker 1 All the greatness.

00:33 Speaker 2 “If you want to write it down that way,” he says.

00:35 Speaker 1 And we’ll continue to ask [unclear].

00:41 Speaker 2 That’s [unclear].

00:41 Speaker 1 Sorry.

00:41 Speaker 2 At the policeman’s house.

00:49 Speaker 1 Distinguished audience, esteemed rabbis, and my friend Reb Zalman, the organizer and initiator, the rosh yeshivah. The esteemed rabbi, the av beis din of Kfar Chabad, and Rabbi Shalom Ber Levin, [unclear]. Dear audience, I’ll try to speak about simpler things. First, I want to address what Rabbi Ro’in said earlier about the two goats, more than forty years ago. One of my cousins came here, a chossid of Reb Berel’s. He had a difficult question: Why does the Chabad siddur say “two goats and atone with its blood”? So he asked me, “Please do me a favor and bring this to the Rebbe.” He had a difficult question. I did as he asked. I submitted the question to the Rebbe: Why does it say here “two goats and atone”? The Rebbe answered that I should look up the passage in Shaar Hakollel and bring [unclear]. Have a good week! [unclear].

02:11 Speaker 2 Huh? That’s Shaar Hakollel.

02:13 Speaker 1 Shaar Hakollel is Shaar Hakollel. Let’s be quiet. One point: Rabbi Zalman has limited my time here, so I can’t answer questions. Following what Rabbi Ashkenazi said about “the custom of our fathers is in our hands,” I want to speak about the subject of custom itself. We are approaching Shavuos, the time of the giving of our Torah. As is well known, it was not only the Ten Commandments that were given to us; the entire Torah was given to us, both its general principles and its details. The Ten Commandments in Parshas Yisro contain 620 letters, corresponding to the 613 mitzvos and the seven rabbinic mitzvos. By the way, the Chasam Sofer says something wonderful. He says that the final words of the Ten Commandments, “that belongs to your fellow,” allude to the seven rabbinic mitzvos: asher l’reiecha. Alef stands for mourning; shin for rejoicing; reish for domains; lamed for bread—bread baked by a non-Jew and food cooked by a non-Jew; reish for washing; ayin for Haman, the matter of Purim; and chaf for [unclear] of Chanukah. All seven rabbinic mitzvos are found in precisely those last seven letters. So, regarding custom, there is the question of how a custom is defined. Can a custom be abolished? Who can abolish one? Is there such a thing as a private custom, or a general custom? Does a custom practiced in a particular shul bind everyone? These are the basic questions I want to put before you. I’ll give you examples of questions we’ve had. In one central shul, they accepted that anyone could lead the prayers in whichever nusach he wished, but after the prayers they would say at least one chapter of Tehillim, followed by Kaddish. That was the custom. By the way, the Rebbe once told [unclear] of Rabbi Yentov that if it was impossible to arrange for them to say the entire daily portion of Tehillim, they should at least say one chapter. So they say one chapter of Tehillim with Kaddish.

04:44 Speaker 1 But there was someone who, for weeks, would lead the prayers, say Tehillim, and say Kaddish. Then one day he decided: “I’m not saying Tehillim or Kaddish.” He disappeared after Aleinu. Is he doing the right thing? Or is he responsible for abolishing this custom? The same applies to the Kaddish after the Torah reading at Minchah on Shabbos or on a fast day, which we customarily begin saying at Yehalelu. In a certain shul, too, that is when they customarily begin saying it. Then this person comes along and abolishes it. He won’t let anyone come forward to lead it. Does he have the right, or doesn’t he? It’s a question of custom. Is this custom binding? There are other kinds of customs as well. I won’t go into all the details, but to clarify and discuss the particulars of custom, I want to quote the Frierdiker Rebbe on the importance of custom. The Frierdiker Rebbe writes: “In Jewish homes in past generations, customs occupied their proper place in life. A Jewish custom is Torah. It illuminated Jewish homes. A father passed the customs on to his sons, and a mother to her daughters.” He continues: “There are Jewish customs whose roots lie in ancient times, such as the customs of the prophets and the customs of the early generations, whose reasons have been forgotten over the generations. Every Jewish custom practiced anywhere—in a country, a city, or a town—has a basis and a reason for its establishment, and these customs illuminated Jewish homes. All customs were given to Moshe at Sinai, just as the entire Torah was given to Moshe at Sinai; they were merely revealed by those who revealed them, as permitted and at the proper time. So it is with customs. Everything was given to Moshe at Sinai, but customs were revealed in their time according to the order of Divine providence.” Elsewhere, the Frierdiker Rebbe divides customs into categories. He says: “There are different kinds of customs.” He lists: first, a Torah custom; second, a Jerusalem custom; third, an ancient custom; fourth, “the custom of women is Torah”; fifth, the custom

07:18 Speaker 1 of the world; sixth, an unrestrained custom; and seventh, a foolish custom. He goes on to say that all seven fall into three categories: mitzvah, obligation, and custom. In Likkutei Sichos, the Rebbe says that the inner content and essence of Jewish customs is G-dliness. This explains their deep connection to the Jewish people, a holy nation. On this basis, he explains why the Frierdiker Rebbe demanded of all Jews on Gimmel Tammuz 5687 that they preserve even Jewish customs with self-sacrifice. He also points out there that the Tzemach Tzedek actually put his life on the line to prevent any change in Jewish customs—not even the customs of women and children. There is another discussion of custom in Likkutei Sichos. Some argue: A Torah mitzvah must be upheld firmly, even to the point of self-sacrifice. A rabbinic mitzvah, too, must be upheld firmly, because [unclear]. But customs—if they can be observed easily, why diminish them? Yet there is no obligation to sacrifice one’s life for them. The Rebbe says there: In truth, that is not so. The first thing an infant senses, the thing that leaves an impression on him, is not a Torah or rabbinic commandment, but a Jewish custom. That is what catches the infant’s eye and influences him most profoundly. The Rebbe’s well-known words cite the Maharal of Prague on customs and their importance. He says there that the customs the Maharal instituted among the Jewish people, [unclear], have the quality of engraved letters, as compared with written letters. Written letters can be erased, but engraved letters endure. That, in essence, is the nature of custom. I saw an interesting statement attributed to Rabbi Shimon bar Zera[?]. Rabbi Shimon bar [unclear], one of the great sages, says: “The Torah that Hakadosh Boruch Hu gave us through Moshe Rabbeinu consists of the Written Torah and the Oral Torah. Matters of the Written Torah may not be recited from memory, and matters of the Oral Torah may not be committed to writing.” And then

09:46 Speaker 1 he says: “Forgetfulness increased, and because ‘it is a time to act for Hashem,’ they had to write down the Oral Torah.” If so, the Oral Torah has now become Written Torah. They wrote it down, so it is written Torah. But then we are missing an Oral Torah. So he says: We rely here on Jewish customs handed down by word of mouth, and a Jewish custom is Torah. That is now the Jewish people’s Oral Torah. Of course, some of this Oral Torah has also been written down. Customs, too, undergo changes. Before long, the oral aspect of them may be lost as well, but apparently there are sources for customs throughout the generations. The Mishnah says in Tractate Pesachim: “In a place where the custom is to do work, one does work; in a place where the custom is not to do work, one does not do work.” There is the Rambam, and the law in the Shulchan Aruch, with many details about work before midday on Erev Pesach, according to local custom. The Rema writes: “For us, it is a place where the custom is not to do work”—specifically full-fledged work, while for other kinds of work there is not even a custom against them. Then, in connection with this, he discusses customs. There are many details, but I want to mention the matter of stringencies: one follows the stringencies of the place one comes from or the place one goes to. There is another Rema, in the laws of resting on Yom Kippur. The Rema says there: “Washing [unclear] for prayer nowadays is only a custom. And a custom cannot override something forbidden; it can only forbid something permitted.” That is the principle of custom that the Rema introduces in his discussion of the laws of resting on Yom Kippur. In other words, a Jewish custom primarily serves to preserve what already exists and to strengthen it with additional encouragement. There are many more details, but I’ll keep my remarks brief. There are, for example, many customs, and each person’s practice, as he observes it, has its foundations in sacred sources. If I follow a particular custom, I cannot simply come along and abolish it easily.

12:04 Speaker 1 The other person’s custom—because he, too, has a custom, with very strong roots. I’ll give a simple example that stands out: an atarah on a tallis. Some are particular that the atarah on the tallis be made of gold or silver. It’s an ornament, and there is nothing beautiful about it. Others reject making an atarah altogether. They don’t make one. Some bring a source for making an atarah from Tractate Megillah. We learned there that one may not sell a Torah scroll to buy books of the Prophets or Writings. Rashi explains why: “We ascend in holiness and do not descend.” But the Maharal—and this is why it says that the Maharal would mark the walls of his sukkah. Which wall went here, and which wall went there? He numbered them. Many people do that too, so they can set up the sukkah the same way the following year. But he marked the walls so he would remember their places, because of the principle that we ascend in holiness. If a wall was on the eastern side, it should not be placed at the back. On this basis, the Mishnah Berurah says: “The custom is to make an atarah so that one will always remember which tzitzis of the tallis hung in front of him and which hung behind him.” That is the reason and source for the custom of making an atarah on a tallis. And the Or Hachashuk [?] adds: “For beauty, the custom is to make a silver atarah where the head goes.” But the Arizal was not particular about which tzitzis were in front of him and which were behind him. On the contrary, apparently on this basis, in Chabad too we do not make an atarah at all. Why don’t we make one? The reason is explained: a tallis represents a makif, an encompassing level. With a makif, there is no concept of upper and lower, so we are not particular about this. That was one example I wanted to give.

14:11 Speaker 3 There is a mark here.

14:15 Speaker 1 But the mark is not on the outside, like an atarah. The mark is the silk that’s there, but it is not an external atarah. The makif surrounds everything. In any event, there is another detail from which we learn the importance of preserving customs, and I want to mention it. The Rema says in the laws of Megillah: “Children have the custom of drawing the figure of Haman on pieces of wood and stones, or writing Haman’s name on them,” and “striking them against one another so that his name will be erased, in the spirit of ‘You shall utterly erase the memory of Amalek’ and ‘May the name of the wicked rot.’” The Rema says: “From this developed the custom of striking at Haman’s name when the Megillah is read in the synagogue.” And he concludes: “One should not abolish any custom or mock it, for it was not established for nothing.” We see here a strong affirmation of preserving Jewish customs: do not abolish any custom. He brings another point, and the Ritva cites there, in the name of a responsum of the Rema, what the Maharik wrote: “If a custom is found in any halachic authority, it should not be abolished even under pressing circumstances. One should not change a custom, and even if there is a slight prohibition involved in the custom, it should not be abolished.” But he concludes with another qualification: if circumstances have changed from what they were in the time of the earlier authorities, the custom may be changed to suit the times. He continues: that applies specifically to a custom established by reliable people. A custom with no basis in the Torah is simply an error in judgment. On the other hand, we know—does anyone remember?—that in the annulment of vows we all say: “If anything that came from my lips—whether I made a vow or followed a good practice three times without stipulating that it was without a vow—I regret them all and ask for annulment.” We see that a personal custom, a good practice a person has taken on, has force. He cannot simply stop observing it; he needs an annulment. I’m returning to the question I asked earlier about this man who has already

16:48 Speaker 1 gone over after davening to say Tehillim three times. It is not so simple for him to stop and abandon the custom. Besides abandoning a custom of the synagogue, where they observed this practice, he is also abandoning a good practice that he himself followed three times, and for that he needs an annulment. So he, too, needs an annulment. We therefore have to treat all customs with care and conduct ourselves according to Jewish custom. And if a person has already followed a practice and wants to stop, it is not simple. He should ask a rabbi about having it annulled. By the way, regarding what I just said—that a custom without a basis is an error in judgment, and one must be careful—there are also mere customs of foolishness. We said earlier, the Rebbe was [unclear] about such a custom. There is a story about someone who entered a synagogue and saw that when people went up to the bimah for an aliyah, they all bent their heads down before approaching the Torah scroll. Another thing in that synagogue was that when they said Modim Derabbanan, instead of facing east, everyone turned west. And you see, everyone did it. This man who came in was learned, and he found it strange. So he went to one of the elders of the congregation, who had been in that synagogue for many years, and asked him, “Tell me the history of this synagogue.” The elder told him that there used to be a chandelier with olive-oil lamps hanging over the way to the Torah. Unfortunately, it was not hung high enough, and anyone who walked through would hit the chandelier and break the lamps. So people had to bend down. That chandelier has long since been removed, but people still bend down. As for Modim Derabbanan, there was nowhere else to put the text, so a notice with Modim

19:03 Speaker 1 Derabbanan was posted on the western wall. Everyone would turn west toward it. That notice has long since been removed, but they are accustomed to looking behind them for Modim Derabbanan. That is called a mistaken custom—a practice that became entrenched without anyone investigating or checking it. There is no place for that. This bears on all the questions that can arise. It is important to me. Yes, I’m going to skip another particular point. There is an enactment, and there is a custom. I saw something interesting about whether they are equivalent. The Brisker Rav, Rabbi Yitzchak Zev of Brisk, asks about the Rambam in chapter one of the laws of the recitation of Shema. It speaks there about “Shema Yisroel”: Yaakov Avinu asked his children whether, perhaps, there was some sin among them. They answered, “Shema Yisroel,” and Yaakov Avinu said, “Blessed be the name of the glory of His kingdom forever and ever.” The wording there is: “Therefore, all Israel adopted the custom.” Earlier it says—ah, “Therefore, all Israel adopted the custom.” But in Tractate Pesachim it says that the Sages instituted its recitation. It says, “The Sages instituted.” The Rambam, though, writes, “Therefore, all Israel adopted the custom of reciting it.” So which is it: a custom or an enactment? There are answers to this. One answer is that they are essentially the same thing. Tosafos says in Tractate Menachos, “The custom of our ancestors is Torah,” and the custom of Israel is also Torah. So an enactment and a custom are the same thing. I saw a collection on Shavuos from 5751 that was distributed this week as a new publication. In one of the notes there, the Rebbe says this: a beis din—he is speaking about a beis din—[unclear]. If another beis din sees a different reason, it can therefore overturn the ruling of the previous beis din. He concludes with the halachah: when the later beis din is greater than the earlier one in wisdom and number,

21:21 Speaker 1 So one can also annul a decree, an enactment, or a custom that has become widespread among the Jewish people. An enactment or a custom—they go together. To put it another way, they go together; to return to that point. In any case, there are many, many, many details concerning customs. Another story. This story happened with the Degel Machaneh Ephraim, who was the Baal Shem Tov’s grandson. One of the tzaddikim of Ruzhin told the story. “Among the Jews of Russia, there are many stringencies, customs, and scrupulous practices, and I don’t approve of any of them,” the Degel Machaneh Ephraim said. “Except for one stringency that I would like to adopt, because I see something in it: the practice of preparing a vessel of water before Pesach so there will be water for the whole of Pesach.” He saw special importance in that. But he concluded: “If you ask why I don’t observe this custom, the reason is that my grandfather, the Baal Shem Tov, did not observe it. My Rebbe did not observe it, so I do not observe it.” Someone who heard this story did not understand. If the Rebbe didn’t—the Rebbe didn’t observe it, does that mean I shouldn’t observe it? So he explained: The basis for the Degel Machaneh Ephraim’s conduct comes from Tractate Beitzah. The Gemara says that water leaked onto Abaye’s millstones on Shabbos, and the walls around the mill began to crumble. Abaye ran to his teacher and told him, “Rebbe, I have a problem with the millstones. A lot of rain has come in and is ruining everything.” His teacher gave him halachic advice on what to do: arrange things in such a way that it would be permissible to move something from one place, and permissible to move it there as well. He gave him advice. Abaye was not at ease, as the Gemara says. He was not at ease, and he

23:29 Speaker 1 did not do what his teacher had told him. He was stricter than his teacher. What happened while he was worrying about it? He was afraid of even a trace of Shabbos desecration, and he questioned his teacher’s words. Meanwhile, during that time, the entire mill broke and was destroyed. So Abaye said, “I know why I deserve such a punishment. I questioned him. My Rebbe told me to act this way, and that is how I should have acted.” So even when something is a matter of custom, of a stringency you observe—if my grandfather, the Baal Shem Tov, did not observe it, I do not observe it. There are things that we do not do if the Rebbe did not do them. In a certain sense, there is another detail here. There is the matter of changing the text of one’s prayers. People brought these questions to the Rebbe in yechidus. The Rebbe told several people not to change. I remember that in the late ’50s, a friend of ours from Holland came in. He davened according to Nusach Ashkenaz and wore a tallis. He went into yechidus, and we were all waiting to hear what would happen. When he came out, he told us that he had asked the Rebbe whether to change his prayer text, and the Rebbe told him to continue with Nusach Ashkenaz and with the tallis. The Rebbe also told him to study Chovos Halevavos, something like that, for his soul. It was very interesting. And I heard another story about one of the prominent chassidim, who asked the Frierdiker Rebbe whether to change his prayer text. The Frierdiker Rebbe did not tell him to change, so he did not change. Years later, several years later, he went into yechidus with the Rebbe. The Rebbe asked him, “What about the prayer text?” He said, “I went into yechidus with the Frierdiker Rebbe, and he didn’t tell me anything.” So the Rebbe said to him, “And what about now?” That was enough. Now, how can he change the prayer text? How can he change

25:37 Speaker 1 the prayer text? Granted, there is some reasoning that Nusach HaAri, of blessed memory, has an advantage, and therefore a person can change. But seemingly, this too is a custom that our ancestors followed and that he himself follows. How can he change? So seemingly, when a person comes under the authority of a leader, he submits himself completely and becomes the Rebbe’s chossid. He sets himself aside and accepts the authority of the tzaddik, wanting everything to be as the tzaddik wishes. As a result, he loses his former sense of self. It is as though he has been born anew, into a new world, and he can therefore follow the Rebbe’s wishes in this too. That is regarding prayer texts, and the question of their particular merit and importance. In any case, there are many more details concerning customs. Jewish custom is Torah; the customs of our ancestors are in our hands. I must mention just one thing about handmade matzos. I once said that “the customs of our ancestors are in our hands” quite literally: it is in our hands to uphold our ancestors’ customs. But here, “in our hands” also means that we bake them by hand, and we must try to be especially careful about this, because the customs of our ancestors are in our hands. For customs are part of the Torah. As we said earlier, we are only two weeks away from the Giving of the Torah, which includes customs as well. We also brought support for this from the Rebbe’s words, and spoke about the self-sacrifice it calls for. So through observing all these things, may we merit the complete Geulah.

27:07 Speaker 4 A drink. A little, a little, a little. Don’t forget, Rabbi [unclear]. Well, we’ve come out of Matan. Rabbi. Reb Sholom Ber Levin. Tell us, go ahead.

00:03 Speaker 1 The Alter Rebbe writes in Hilchos Shavuos, section 494, that “in our countries it is customary not to fast and not to say Tachanun from Rosh Chodesh through the eighth of the month, inclusive”—through Isru Chag Shavuos. In the siddur’s halachic rulings, though, it says not to say Tachanun from Rosh Chodesh Sivan through the twelfth, inclusive. What is the difference between Isru Chag and all those days up to the twelfth? [Unclear] explains that, with regard to the festival offerings, they could be brought on Shavuos, and if they were not brought on Yom Tov, they could be brought afterward. In fact, if someone did not bring them on Yom Tov, he could bring them during all seven days available for making them up. So Tachanun is not said on all those days. [Unclear] says that the main distinction is that Isru Chag is itself connected to Yom Tov. But the siddur goes a step further and says not to say Tachanun until the twelfth. According to the siddur, then, there is still a distinction between Isru Chag and all the other days. Tachanun is not said on any of them, but there is a difference between Isru Chag and the other days through the twelfth. What is that difference? [Unclear] is not speaking only about Tachanun. Section 494 says: “In our countries it is customary not to fast and not to say Tachanun from Rosh Chodesh.” [Unclear] says the custom is through the eighth. Or the eighth. Through the eighth—

02:23 Speaker 1 What?

02:25 Speaker 2 The eighth.

02:26 Speaker 1 The eighth. The eighth—he does not mean the eighth? [Unclear.] But regarding the prohibition on fasting, it says only through Isru Chag. What does that tell us about the other days? [Unclear.] With regard to the other days, the same rule does not apply. On Isru Chag there is a separate law. That is why this distinction is brought in the Shulchan Aruch. [Unclear.] The days through the twelfth of Sivan are days on which Tachanun is not said, but Isru Chag has an additional standing. [Unclear.] What is Isru Chag? [Unclear.] Isru Chag Shavuos is connected, from the outset, to the law of Yom Tov, because there is time afterward to bring the festival offering.

05:13 Speaker 1 It is connected to Yom Tov, specifically on Shavuos. Isru Chag Pesach, by contrast, has its own custom. [Unclear.] So what is the difference between all the days of Nissan, the days after Pesach, and Isru Chag? [Unclear.] It seems to me that there are the days governed by custom, while Isru Chag, 15 Av and 15 Shvat have a different standing. Even if a practice is a custom, it is significant when it is mentioned in the Gemara. Let me divide this up: the days of Sivan and Nissan are observed by custom, while Isru Chag, 15 Av and 15 Shvat are singled out in connection with the Gemara as Yom Tov. Regarding Isru Chag, the expression is “Isru Chag”; regarding 15 Av, the expression is “There were no festivals for Israel like 15 Av.” [Unclear.] I understand that there are three kinds of Yom Tov here. What we need to know about a particular day is what its basis is. [Unclear.] The stronger kind of Yom Tov is the one mentioned in the Gemara: Isru Chag, 15 Av and 15 Shvat. Yet the straightforward law here does not include Chanukah and Purim—

08:07 Speaker 1 There are two different things here—not one category, but two: the days of Sivan and Rosh Chodesh, and Chanukah and Purim. This is especially relevant to my question. The Gemara speaks about fasting, and that tells us which days have the stronger status of Yom Tov. There is another point about a fast for a troubling dream: if someone fasted on Shabbos, he has to fast again afterward to atone for fasting on Shabbos. One might have thought that this would not apply to Chanukah, Purim and Erev Yom Kippur, which are strong Yamim Tovim, when one may not fast even for a troubling dream. On Erev Yom Kippur one does not fast even for a troubling dream, because eating then is a mitzvah. He then counts four more days, including Rosh Chodesh. He does not count Isru Chag, 15 Av or 15 Shvat—only those four days. That is because the Gemara identifies these as actual Yamim Tovim, when one should not fast even for a troubling dream. So, to sum up the rules concerning these Yamim Tovim, we have several kinds of days, each with a practical difference: days on which we do not say Tachanun but may fast; days on which we do not hold a public fast—such as the days of Nissan and Sivan and the end of Tishrei—but one may fast for a troubling dream; and days on which one does not fast even—

10:13 Speaker 1 for a troubling dream. What about 15 Av and 15 Shvat? One may fast for a troubling dream on those dates. So the question is: what does “even for a troubling dream” mean here? How can those dates be treated as fast days? The Gemara tells us which days one must not fast: Chanukah, Purim and [unclear]. That explains the distinction. In other words, we have to distinguish between the different categories, though not every case falls neatly into them. I am speaking here about Shavuos and Pesach, all of Nissan and all of Sivan, Rosh Chodesh, 15 Av and 15 Shvat. The days explicitly identified in the Gemara are Chanukah, Purim and [unclear]. And there are two more points to add to this. [Unclear.] People understand it differently, but to understand the Alter Rebbe, you have to look at his wording. So I am speaking about Nissan, Tishrei and Sivan. What does the Alter Rebbe write? Look at how he describes fasting in the Shulchan Aruch and in the siddur. For Erev Pesach, he writes specifically [unclear]; and likewise for Rosh Chodesh, Chanukah, Purim, Erev Pesach and Shavuos, because—

12:45 Speaker 1 [unclear] today, you might say, Erev Pesach. So they report that specifically on those days [unclear]. I checked today—look at it again. Well, if you go, I’m considering Erev [unclear]. It’s the same text, the same [unclear]. As for the things you’re saying about fasting, even a fast for a troubling dream, [unclear] on that very day. [unclear] one first undertakes the fast. [unclear] The text—how do we apply it? [unclear] That is precisely [unclear]. So don’t make that the rule. On Erev Yom Kippur one cannot fast, and [unclear] that day. But in the siddur, I’m actually referring to the way the siddur presents it. Generally, I mean specifically [unclear]. Erev Yom Kippur [unclear], particularly regarding the order for Yom Kippur. Yes, it has implications for Monday and Thursday. If Erev Yom Kippur falls on Monday, Rosh Hashanah [unclear]; if Yom Kippur falls on Thursday, then the days of Rosh Hashanah [unclear]. [unclear] But this is relevant to [unclear] Torah scholars and to the dates, which include Pesach. This is distinct from the order [unclear]. And Erev Pesach [unclear]. From here there is an example; from here there is Pesach. [unclear] From here—

15:12 Speaker 1 there is an example; from here there is Pesach. It seems to be Pesach, but that is an unusual date. In general, though, this applies through the end of Yom Tov. It indicates that there is a Yom Tov. [unclear] Shacharis and Purim. Erev Pesach and Tisha B’Av, Erev Yom Kippur. [unclear] Regarding this, regarding blood, regarding their wine, regarding what comes out, regarding [unclear]. But it has something of the character of Yom Tov. So this raises further questions. Even [unclear]. In this matter, what is called [unclear]. Even the date—the date. I think that [unclear] the rule. [unclear] the merit of the holiness of Torah scholars. Is that generally required? [unclear] Erev Rosh Hashanah 5765. [unclear] a question during the meal, right, and the wording of Avinu Malkeinu. [unclear] Avinu Malkeinu. [unclear] This is the rule [unclear]. Both Avinu Malkeinu and “Lamnatzeach ya’ancha” [unclear]. “Lamnatzeach” [unclear]. As for Avinu Malkeinu, it was clearly [unclear]. That also needs to be [unclear]. And [unclear] said that this concerns Purim. That is the rule. [unclear] The rule is that on any day when Tachanun is not said, “Lamnatzeach ya’ancha” is not said either, nor [unclear] “A prayer of David” [unclear]. [unclear] Some omit Tachanun, including Erech Apayim, and some also omit Lamnatzeach. Well, [unclear]. Tachanun, Lamnatzeach, and Erech Apayim are not said. [unclear]

17:45 Speaker 1 [unclear] the order for the parsha, so [unclear] “Lamnatzeach ya’ancha.” And “A prayer of David” is said every day. [unclear] on Purim, “Lamnatzeach ya’ancha” is not said, and neither is Erech Apayim. [unclear] There was an effort to understand the plain meaning: the siddur’s wording [unclear]. [unclear] We did not find it clearly [unclear], and no reason was given. Two years later it was printed only in Tehillas Hashem [unclear]. At that point they decided to include the corrections concerning Purim. [unclear] There were then two versions in the siddur and two versions [unclear] among the dozens of corrections that came in. They asked whether Reb Moshe should print it, and Reb Moshe said [unclear]. Reb Moshe was so careful in all these matters. The point was that the Rebbe had said, concerning this rule in the Rebbe’s siddur, that Erech Apayim is not said. Later [unclear] among dozens of things. That was the issue. Regarding [unclear], the Rebbe accepted that on Purim [unclear] is not as it appears in the siddur. Yet they said [unclear] on Purim, yes, as it appears in the siddur. So one could still have thought that even the Rebbe had said that on Purim it is as it appears in the siddur. Where, then, does [unclear] come from? [unclear]

19:54 Speaker 1 And he also gave instructions to write all these things down. He writes that both before and after, both before the siddur was printed and after it was printed, whenever [unclear] with a tallis, the Rebbe said Erech Apayim. What it says in the siddur was printed [unclear], but what was repeated from the siddur was not as it appears there. The intention here is to establish [unclear]: when one says it, one sets out one rule; when one says it, one includes it in Tachanun. I think that, for now, that is how it is stated.

00:40 Shavuos. When they make such a fuss about it, you won’t see it properly. [unclear]. Almost no... laws. Not knowing the... not knowing. Rabbeinu Yonasan, customs—even customs that are not customs. What is the point? Wait, there are those who have a custom [unclear]. What is this? It is the king [unclear]. So, continuing from that, as is known, blood becomes cloudy and turns into milk. What is explained here? The laws of kings. Well, look at this question. A Jew has eaten meat. Now he is holding a cup of coffee and has made the blessing “Shehakol nihyeh bidvaro.” [unclear]. It is not stated there in the poskim by way of explanation. He made the blessing “Shehakol nihyeh bidvaro.” [unclear]. Suppose he had already washed his hands. [unclear]. He took the cup in his hand and made the blessing “Shehakol nihyeh bidvaro”—that is nothing. [unclear]. There is also the rabbinic prohibition of milk after meat. Or should he say, “Baruch shem kevod malchuso le’olam va’ed”? Ordinarily, a person hears the question and thinks: What do you mean, drinking coffee after meat? Of course he should say “Baruch shem.” But why not think about it for a moment? Perhaps it isn’t necessarily so simple. We know that one has to wait an hour—sixty minutes—so why even discuss it? An hour ago he ate a meat meal; he is keeping the hour. And now he is holding the coffee in his hand, thinking he can already make the blessing. What should he do? Also

02:50 that is what it says. We know that a blessing in vain is a serious matter. The Chazon Ish cites the Rambam as saying that “You shall not take [Hashem’s name in vain]” refers specifically to an oath, but with a blessing in vain, the transgression is through speech. Most of the Rishonim do not hold that way; they hold that a blessing in vain is prohibited only by rabbinic law. And the Jew is confused: either he drinks it as it is, which would involve one of two rabbinic prohibitions; or he drinks the coffee and observes the rabbinic law concerning meat and milk; or he says “Baruch shem” and will not have uttered Hashem’s name in vain. So why not think about it a little? I don’t have the full answer; that isn’t the point. In any case, there are two things to know about a blessing in vain. If someone says “Baruch atah Hashem”—over your wine, say—everyone knows that this is a blessing in vain, and then he says, “Baruch shem kevod malchuso le’olam va’ed.” Interestingly, the Tzlach brings a third solution. I had not come across it; it is only in the Tzlach, by the way. The Tzlach says that when a Jew says, “Baruch atah Hashem,” he can continue with the end of the verse, “lamdeini chukecha”—“teach me Your statutes.” [unclear]. That is also the end of the verse. [unclear]. If you utter Hashem’s name in vain, answer “Baruch shem kevod malchuso le’olam va’ed”; or continue, “lamdeini chukecha.” You’ll tell me that’s difficult. But according to the Rambam, if you say “Baruch atah Hashem” and then “lamdeini chukecha,” why mention the other solution? And why do we say “Baruch shem kevod malchuso le’olam va’ed”? By the way, I apologize: this is from the Divrei Yatziv, of Klausenburg. I mention it in passing. And this will provide the correction. The correction is that if he has uttered Hashem’s name in vain—

04:57 [unclear]. In the Rambam’s view, saying “Baruch shem” is not merely an acknowledgment of what he has done; it acts upon it. That is how the Rambam explains it. So if a person has mentioned Hashem’s name in vain... [unclear]. The Rambam does not bring “lamdeini chukecha.” That is precisely the point. If you look at this wording, you will see that there is a distinction here. If a person has made a blessing in vain, he says “Baruch shem kevod malchuso le’olam va’ed.” But if he has only said “Baruch atah Hashem,” he continues, “lamdeini chukecha,” and then it is not a blessing in vain. If he has already made a blessing in vain, he must say afterward, “Baruch shem kevod malchuso le’olam va’ed.” Once he has made the whole blessing in vain, he has to say “Baruch shem.” But if he continues “lamdeini chukecha,” he has not completed a blessing. First he says “lamdeini chukecha,” so that he appears to be reciting the verse; and then, as he says, “there is no mention of Hashem’s name in vain here.” Once he says “lamdeini chukecha,” it is not an instance of uttering Hashem’s name in vain at all. But if he has completed an entire blessing in vain, he says “Baruch shem.” That is the solution to a blessing in vain. In “Baruch atah Hashem, lamdeini chukecha,” there is no mention of Hashem’s name in vain, because he completes the verse. [unclear]. He should say “lamdeini chukecha,” not “Baruch shem.” But according to the Rambam, who discusses the matter in terms of speech, he gives the rule concerning “Baruch shem kevod malchuso.” Here are the Rambam’s words: “If one has uttered the Name in vain, he should immediately hasten to praise, glorify and exalt Him, so that it will not have been mentioned in vain.” And the Rambam brings “Baruch shem.” That makes it

06:53 clear: if he has said the Name in vain, he quickly says “Baruch shem” so that it will not have been in vain; he has praised Hashem by saying it. He must say “Baruch shem” so that he has not uttered Hashem’s name in vain. That is fairly clear. The Alter Rebbe, in the Shulchan Aruch, uses different wording. Namely, he has made a blessing in vain. According to that ruling, when he says “Baruch shem,” it does not undo the blessing in vain: it remains a blessing in vain. He wants to praise Hashem, but the blessing remains in vain. That is the distinction. So he should not misunderstand it. He says “Baruch shem” because it was said in vain. In the Rambam, it is clear that although he made a blessing in vain, when he says “Baruch shem,” it is no longer a blessing in vain. It does not remain in vain: he has praised Hashem. Though it was first said in vain, “Baruch shem” changes that. The Name he uttered has now become part of his praise: “Baruch shem kevod malchuso le’olam va’ed.” It is no longer called a blessing in vain at all. Accordingly, we understand very well why the Rambam does not need to bring “lamdeini chukecha.” With “lamdeini chukecha,” it was never in vain; but he can also say “Baruch shem.” He can do either. If he has uttered Hashem’s name in vain, “Baruch shem” corrects it, so it is no longer called that at all. [unclear]. So what should one do? If he has said “Baruch atah Hashem,” he should specifically say “lamdeini chukecha,” so that it was never a blessing in vain. But according to the Rambam, even if he originally went ahead in a way he should not have, he should certainly say “Baruch shem kevod malchuso,” and all is well: it is no longer considered uttering Hashem’s name in vain.

08:38 But here it is not so simple; it is not entirely clear. One could suggest that [unclear]. This issue arises concerning tefillin—making the blessing over the head tefillin. Maharam Chaviv wrote about it. In short, not “Maran Chaviv,” but Maharam Chaviv. He wrote that one could make the blessing over the head tefillin and afterward say “Baruch shem kevod malchuso.” The Shaagas Aryeh writes that “Baruch shem” can only be said after the fact; one cannot deliberately put oneself into such a situation in the first place. It may be that the disagreement between Maharam Chaviv and the Shaagas Aryeh is really about the Rambam and the Shulchan Aruch—not the Alter Rebbe, but the Tur and the Mechaber. The Shaagas Aryeh understood the Shulchan Aruch simply: it remains a blessing in vain, so one cannot do such a thing deliberately. Maharam Chaviv, by contrast, followed the Rambam: it is no longer considered a blessing in vain at all, so one may enter such a situation deliberately. Perhaps. We find three rulings: one in Shaarei Teshuvah and two in the Alter Rebbe’s Shulchan Aruch. In Shaarei Teshuvah, at the beginning of siman [unclear], he brings—

10:16 Someone who was fasting—whether a personal fast or a rabbinic public fast, such as the Fast of Gedaliah or the Fast of Esther—and forgot, took a glass and made a blessing. The Shaarei Teshuvah brings the view that, once he has made the blessing, he certainly has to drink so that the blessing, and Hashem’s Name, will not have been said in vain. That is the view he brings. But at the end he brings another opinion that disagrees. He himself says one must drink so the blessing will not be in vain; he brings this from the Chida. Later he brings another later authority who says not to drink. This may be the same dispute: the Chida and the Shaarei Teshuvah hold that if you do not drink now, the blessing will remain in vain. And who knows which concern is more important? Why should he drink? Those who disagree apparently hold the opposite. But in the Alter Rebbe’s Shulchan Aruch itself we find two rulings. Remarkable. Number one is in section 299, subsection 2. Here the Alter Rebbe is discussing a Jew who washed for a meal after nightfall on Shabbos, when eating before Havdalah is rabbinically forbidden. What does the Alter Rebbe say? “If he forgot and began a meal at night, he must stop as soon as he remembers. If he remembers after making the blessing of Hamotzi, before tasting the bread”—what happens here? Two rabbinic considerations. The Alter Rebbe says: “He should taste it immediately and then make Havdalah.” If he made Havdalah first, the blessing of Hamotzi would have been in vain. So here we have a Jew who is forbidden to eat—eating before Havdalah is forbidden—and the Alter Rebbe rules [unclear].

12:16 In that case, he should taste it so that the blessing will not be in vain. [unclear] There are arguments one can make about this, but he has already made the blessing. He has already made the blessing, and he has to make the decision in three seconds. He has only two options: [unclear], or to taste it. According to the Rambam, [unclear]. According to the Alter Rebbe, not necessarily. That is interesting. The Rambam does not bring up these questions; as far as the Rambam is concerned, the matter is settled. He does not bring up these questions at all. [unclear] But according to the Alter Rebbe, it would be a blessing in vain. That is the whole question. There are arguments on both sides, but there the Alter Rebbe rules that he should taste it. Now, another case—not a question of a prohibition, but of “danger is treated more strictly than prohibition.” We know the custom is to pour out water in a neighborhood where someone has died. The Alter Rebbe writes in [unclear], subsection 14: “If he made a blessing over the water”—he is holding a glass of water when there is a deceased person nearby, and the water must be poured out—“he should drink a little of the water so that his blessing will not be in vain.” So even though that small amount [unclear]—

14:13 “Danger is treated more strictly than prohibition.” Nevertheless, he should taste it. This is not something to play around with by saying the blessing and not tasting anything. [unclear] He rules this not only in the lessons; [unclear] reached this conclusion. The practical upshot is that he has two choices: either say “Baruch Shem,” or taste it. In other words, the Rambam holds that one can say “Baruch Shem” if [unclear]. If he has said, “Blessed are You, Hashem,” [unclear]. Yes, this is the ruling before [unclear]. You know. [unclear] That is no proof of any of this. [unclear]

00:05 Speaker 1 Rabbi Yoel, Rabbi Yitzchak Narden[?], Rabbi Shalom Nesinki[?], and the Rebbe held the great Torah scholar Rabbi Shalom in high regard. How should I speak—Hebrew? What? What? I would have said Hebrew. How am I going to speak Yiddish? Before we turn to what we are about to discuss: the soul of my mother-in-law, of blessed memory, Rachel bas Esther—today is her yahrtzeit. May it be an honor to her. Once, when she passed by the Rebbe, she introduced herself as the daughter-in-law of Rabbi Chaim Shalom [unclear] from Eretz Yisroel. The Rebbe said, “Eretz Hakodesh.” In truth, that was ruach hakodesh from Heaven, because she had a certain thought: everything had come about so that she would leave Poland and settle in the Land. She said to the Rebbe, “from Eretz Yisroel,” and the Rebbe answered, “Eretz Hakodesh.” May we all soon be in Eretz Hakodesh, with Hashem, very soon indeed. May it be an honor to her. Surely everyone is familiar with [unclear] on Shavuos. Many times people follow this custom, [unclear] cakes for Shavuos. The question concerns the custom and its details. Reish Lakish says: “One who forms a design on a vessel is liable for makeh b’patish.” Rashi explains that the vessel has not yet been finished; by completing its design, one is liable for makeh b’patish. It has not yet been finished, not yet—

03:23 Speaker 1 —finished, until the design is completed; for this one is liable for makeh b’patish. From Reish Lakish’s plain wording, it seems that the liability is only for makeh b’patish; he does not mention a further liability. The question is whether there is also liability for writing. Rashi, in the laws of Shabbos, explains: “How so? One who draws letters or designs on a wall, or on a board, is liable for writing.” In the Rambam’s version it says “on a wall”; there is another version of the Mishnah. On a wall or on a board—I will explain that version too. Drawing on a wall or on a board is learned as writing, since that is the way people make designs. The Rambam, though, brings a different Mishnah, [unclear]. It specifically concerns writing, as with the boards of the Mishkan. They marked the boards so that one would not be exchanged for another. But why was that necessary? When Moshe erected the Mishkan, it was according to the pattern shown to him on the mountain. It was already perfect. You could put the Mishkan away in its boxes and then assemble it correctly again. The boards of the Holy of Holies would always belong in the Holy of Holies. Yet the markings were necessary precisely because the boards of the Mishkan were not to be exchanged. That is the significance of the markings. The Mishkan was erected for Hashem, but its boards—

08:15 Speaker 2 The Gemara’s discussion here is primarily about the words of the Amoraim. The Gemara asks what is considered makeh b’patish. [unclear] The Rambam also brings the Mishnah: one who forms a design is indeed liable for makeh b’patish. And what about writing? [unclear] Here we have a distinction, but we do not see the design itself. It may be comparable in practice to [unclear]. Two sin offerings for a single act of work—that is striking. Rav Yosef discusses [unclear] on Shabbos. One who prunes and needs the wood is liable twice: once for planting and once for reaping. But here I want to explain [unclear]. So they need to determine whether there are two sin offerings, or one sin offering for two categories of work. That is the question. The Rambam rules that one is liable twice. But that does not mean there are two separate acts here. If there is also a finishing touch, is one liable for makeh b’patish as well, or not? That is what this means. In halachah, though, one is liable twice. First, because the act is fully completed, this is not really a dispute at all. Second, [unclear].

10:46 Speaker 2 It is entirely clear. Secondly, even if we read Rav Yosef as saying that one act incurs liability for two categories of work, that does not affect our case. Even according to that approach, [unclear]. So, again, if there is a finishing touch, one is also liable for makeh b’patish. And this is the Rambam’s order of presentation. It is completely clear: the Rambam rules that one who needs the wood is liable twice, although it is one act. That is a novel point in the Rambam. And the Rambam also rules that when a vessel is completed, one is liable for makeh b’patish. In this connection there is another question: is it a question about the Gemara, or about the Rambam? The Magen Avraham asks it in section 340. What does he ask? It concerns letters on a cake. According to the Magen Avraham, [unclear]. The Rambam—and the Levush says the same—discusses erasing even when it is not done in order to write. One may not break letters on a cake, on a pastry, on a cookie. When does that constitute erasing? The Magen Avraham asks—

13:11 Speaker 2 —about the letters on the cake in section 340, paragraph 4: Why don’t they mention designs? Why don’t they mention liability for breaking designs, not only letters? They speak about letters, but not designs. Why only letters and not designs? The Magen Avraham seems to imply that letters and designs must have the same law in every case. The Noda BiYehuda discusses the Magen Avraham’s question about designs in section 340. He holds that letters and designs must have the same law, and asks about the letters on the cake. But he says that this applies only [unclear]. As is known, he cites the baraisa concerning decorated matzos, and says that one can fulfill the mitzvah with such matzah. The Sages said not to make such matzos, because decorating them takes time and one might come to let the dough become chametz; but if they were made, they may be used. The Noda BiYehuda says they may be used as matzah. Breaking the designs is not [unclear]. But it is not straightforward: they should not be made, yet they may be used as matzah. This points to a distinction between letters on a cake and designs on a cake. According to the Noda BiYehuda, it appears that everything is permitted. And he writes one thing: it must be matzah, it—

15:24 Speaker 2 Matzah—it doesn’t have to be Pesach. And [unclear]. The Noda BiYehudah permits it all. But afterward, he says [unclear]. That is why there are differences in how one may eat something with letters and pictures on it. But letters and pictures are not necessarily the same thing. Whoever distinguishes between letters and pictures knew this very well. As is known, the question of whether it is permitted depends on whether there are letters. [unclear] They knew what he meant. A picture is something different from written language. But [unclear]. Whether it is an animal or something else, a picture is a picture: a fish, an animal, or a bird. We will see whether, incidentally, he corrected this point, and what the later authorities say. There are also markings on matzos: Kohen, Levi, Yisroel. You know what I mean. But what? I think it was permitted. It was cut together with the matzah; you had to [unclear] the matzah. It was cut together with

18:41 Speaker 2 the matzah, but here you made it yourself. [unclear] You made it yourself. You know, that implies an actual action done with the hands. But [unclear]. What does that mean? That is a distinction. But look again: when it is mixed in with the pictures, there is a distinction between letters and pictures. The Magen Avraham addresses this, but [unclear] between letters and pictures. After that, [unclear]. Today we drew attention to [unclear]. In siman 340, se’if 4, if one wants to make forms and pictures on cups [unclear]. What we cited from the Gemara and the Mishnah concerns the derivative category of writing letters. Remember the distinction? Breaking letters and pictures. It seems that the authorities—the Rema among them—were primarily discussing the derivative category. As for the letters themselves and pictures, the earlier authorities discussed forms and pictures; that is the main point. What I want to say is that letters

21:16 Speaker 2 are the primary category, while pictures are only a derivative category. [unclear] That is remarkable. Second, this is simply a resolution of the difficulty in the Magen Avraham: why may one break pictures? But it does not resolve the difficulty with the statement that one is liable for writing. Writing means writing. “One who forms a design on a vessel” is liable for makeh b’patish. But it also says that one is liable for writing. So according to the Rema, pictures are essentially like letters; they fall under writing. That gets us past the hardest part. But [unclear]. Interestingly, some were lenient about this on Shabbos. So what is the practical ruling? [unclear] You may not cut it up. But breaking it and spreading it on bread [unclear]. One case is this, and the other is that. [unclear]

23:28 Speaker 2 [unclear] All you did was [unclear]. Then another American comes in. [unclear] Someone says, “You want to rule on my Shabbos?” Oneg Shabbos. You think I’m [unclear]?

24:18 Speaker 3 Which?

24:20 Speaker 2 What?

24:20 Speaker 3 Which?

24:23 Speaker 2 The rice?

24:26 Speaker 3 I don’t know what that is in Chinese. I don’t know what that is in Chinese.

24:31 Speaker 2 I don’t know what that is in Chinese. Well, [unclear]. Ribono Shel Olam, a Jew is [unclear]. And you may not treat letters and pictures alike. You may not [unclear]. It is like [unclear] letters and pictures. But that is the point. What sort of difficulty is this? And in particular, it is forbidden because there is a prohibition. [unclear] Just a little example. That’s it. What is the point? It is nice to hear it. [unclear] But this has become dangerous. Rabbosai. Yes. Waiting in heaven. Microphone. Translation: “Waiting for a question in English.” But [unclear].

25:50 Speaker 3 Who is senior and senior of something? Who said something? Maybe it’s the more of.

25:57 Speaker 2 What?

25:58 Speaker 3 Maybe it’s the more of.

26:00 Speaker 2 One second, one second. I heard from a great rabbi from Australia who said [unclear]. The rabbi said, “I don’t know; I’m not sure about this bochur.” There is a story about the Vilna Gaon and an American bochur. Once, someone went in with a note. His father and mother had instructed the bochur to go to the Vilna Gaon. He wrote down his own name and his mother’s name. When he came to the Vilna Gaon, he thought, “How can I test the Vilna Gaon?” The blessing had helped. The American went in to the Vilna Gaon and asked, “Rabbi, what is my name?” The Vilna Gaon looked at the note and told him his name. Then he asked, “What is my mother’s name?” The Vilna Gaon looked again and told him his mother’s name. The fellow pointed his finger at the Vilna Gaon and said, “Rabbi, you have a good head! You saw what was written on the note—you have a good head!” [unclear] The Rambam says something interesting. He says

28:03 Speaker 2 Once again: making marks is a derivative of writing. That is how the Rambam teaches it, almost word for word: “How so? One who makes marks and shapes on a wall or on paper, as artists do when they sketch, is liable for writing.” From this, apparently, the Rambam leaves out the question of marks that serve as signs. That is the basis for the liability. There is also the matter of drawing: a shape can itself create liability. So one can understand the Rambam’s wording: “One who makes marks”—and then, “as artists do when they sketch”—“on a wall or on paper.” We know clearly that elsewhere, at the end of the discussion of makeh bepatish, we brought the opinion that this is a derivative of writing. The distinction there is [unclear], and we will get to it: one who draws shapes is liable for a derivative of writing. It is not simply a matter of drawing; the Rambam says that making shapes makes one liable for writing. “How so? One who makes marks and shapes on a wall or on paper, as artists do when they sketch, is liable for makeh bepatish.” This needs to be understood: he places it under makeh bepatish, while the Rambam’s other ruling follows. This is the distinction at the heart of the whole discussion. It is about whether the marks convey something. That is what I am talking about: making a shape. In one case he is liable for writing, and in the other, for coloring. It is the same basic act, like making a design, and so on. In one case he is liable for writing, and in the other, for coloring. It seems straightforward. So which kind of drawing is he liable for? Let us put it this way: writing is the act in question. A shape, too, can be a form of writing. Again, the Rambam says in the chapter of Hilchos Shabbos—the chapter of Hilchos Shabbos—that writing is one of the primary categories of labor, and this includes all kinds of marks, even [unclear].

31:15 Speaker 2 Marks can be writing. That is why he is liable for writing: the determining factor is not merely the appearance of the marks, but whether he is writing. Writing is not just pictures. Writing conveys a message. If someone makes a mark as a sign for another person, it has meaning for him. So ask yourself whether this looks like a letter or not. Someone makes a mark so that another person will know something from it. If it conveys a message, that is writing. These are the laws under discussion. Again, the distinction is between a sketch and the finished picture. Three times: a sketch, a sketch, a sketch. He outlines a shape, and afterward the colors and the filling-in come to complete it. Or he makes a shaded area in a shape. That is the labor of writing. But simply making a picture that does not convey a message—is that writing? In short, that is the approach here, and it is the approach of the Magen Avraham and the Alter Rebbe. What do they say about making designs on a cake or on a wall? When a person merely draws a pleasing picture of an animal, that is not writing. Filling in a beautiful shape is, in one sense, akin to writing. But the person who first made the marks—the sketch—is liable for writing; the

33:25 Speaker 2 second person is liable for coloring. But then how can we say, “One who makes a shape on a vessel is liable” for what? Writing? It is not writing. Should we say he is liable for coloring? The text says, “One who makes a shape on a vessel”—he engraves a shape into a vessel. That is not coloring either. This is the Magen Avraham’s question. If so, what about the designs on cakes? Designs on cakes are certainly not a case where one is liable for writing.

33:59 Speaker 4 A drawing that conveys meaning.

34:03 Speaker 2 Again.

34:03 Speaker 4 A drawing that conveys meaning—as though it completes a missing word. Yes, that is the point.

34:08 Speaker 2 No, no, no. It is not merely a drawing. Again, it has meaning; it conveys a message, like the marks they made on the beams of the Mishkan. That is what I mean, not what I was saying before. If so, where do we go from here? At first glance, this is a stringency. But there is a difficulty with the Rambam, [unclear]. If you ask them, the Rambam seems to take the case of applying kohl to the eyes as an act of writing. That is what you mark down: it is treated as writing. There are different details and opinions about this. Who are they? Rabbi Yeshaya Pick? [unclear]. The Gemara explains the Mishnah. The Gemara rules regarding a woman who applies kohl to her eyes that she is liable for writing. But how can applying kohl to the eyes be writing? The Gemara says it is coloring. We turn to the Sefer Yad Hamelech. The Yad Hamelech says that this is not even the conclusion: applying kohl to her eyes is considered writing. It could also be [unclear] or building, depending on the case. That does not matter to us now. The Gemara says it is coloring. The Mechaber, the Rema, and perhaps other later poskim rule in accordance with the Gemara: applying kohl to her eyes is coloring. The Rambam’s view, though, is that it is writing. What exactly is the case?

36:52 Speaker 2 The Rambam appears to go against the Mishnah, and against what Rashi says. Look at Rashi, on Shabbos 94b. Rashi says of applying kohl to her eyes: “She moves it with an applicator around the eye.” It goes around the eye. In other words, it is around the eye for cosmetic purposes. The woman makes a shaded area around the eye, with makeup, not even a distinct mark. Her intention there is to highlight the eye. She applies it around the eye, above and below, to bring out the eye itself. The Rambam says that this is writing. And the Rambam rules that it is a Torah-level prohibition. But the later authorities explain it as we said before: it is coloring. She is coloring the eye; that is the point. Rashi says she applies it around the eye. Indeed, if she applies it to the eyelids, which cover the eye, the Rambam too would hold that it is coloring. But why does he bring only one case? The explanation is that the Rambam gives only this example. That is why the Rambam adopted the first version, the wording of the Gemara. Why does the Rambam hold that around the eye it is writing? That is the question. Because

39:10 Speaker 2 Okay. We’ll come to it simply. There’s been enough on this. Just one point before we finish. Everyone knows the question about the construction of the Mishkan. Why must there be a dispute between Rabbi Yosi and the Tanna Kama? Why did Rashi raise this question about the Mishkan? The earlier commentators discuss it, and some point to the menorah and the curtain; others point to the altar and its base. Regarding the table, Rashi says that it held food, as on the tables of kings. So there was a purpose for the furnishings of the Mishkan. But what about the menorah and the curtain, and the altar and the table? That is a great question. What is their purpose? We should not simply offer an answer without explaining it. To answer with a thought from a derush: [unclear]. “The soul of man is the lamp of Hashem.” What is a lamp? A lamp consists of a vessel, a wick, oil and fire. You can have a good lamp, but it is still missing one thing: the fire.

41:42 Speaker 2 The spark comes out and lights the lamp. The one who lights it is the essential part. Reish Lakish says, “One who forms a design on a vessel is liable for makeh b’patish”—the finishing act. What is the vessel? It has already been prepared as a lamp: the vessel, the wick, the oil—and then the fire. The one who gives it its final form, who lights it, completes the work. This is the work we must carry through until the coming of Moshiach. [unclear] The individual, the body and the soul: a person works on himself, focuses on himself and truly changes himself. “One who forms a design on a vessel is liable for makeh b’patish.” Once it has been lit, it is fire. [unclear] And there is Ahavas Yisroel without any limit. That is the Ahavas Yisroel of the leader of the generation. This answers the difficult question. As for the ma’apilim—those who tried to go up to Eretz Yisroel—there is a dispute about them.

44:18 Speaker 2 For example, Tzelofchad son of Chefer: one opinion is that he was among the ma’apilim. What do we read about him? “Tzelofchad son of Chefer, son of Gilad, son of Machir, son of Menashe, of the families of Menashe son of Yosef.” A person’s actions, and the actions of his ancestors, tell us something about him. He was descended from Yosef the tzaddik; he was a tzaddik descended from tzaddikim. On the other hand, [unclear], and they were all upright people. So the question arises: given his sin, in what sense was he a tzaddik? If he was among the ma’apilim, there was a bitter price to pay. Yet he was a tzaddik descended from tzaddikim. What does that mean? Lineage alone, without Ahavas Yisroel, is no lineage. And this is the secret of how we must all be united for the Geulah and for the coming of Moshiach, immediately, right now. There is a strength in that. We must hold together and see it through. No one can stand in the way of a united Chabad, together with the Rebbe, toward the Geulah.