12 Tammuz and Parshas Chukas-Balak - Mesirus Nefesh - This Way and No Other! - Rabbi Asher Parkesh

00:01 At a farbrengen on 12 Tammuz, the Frierdiker Rebbe’s day of liberation, in 5705, the Frierdiker Rebbe told a story that had happened when he was fifteen. It was in 5655. 12 Tammuz is, of course, the Frierdiker Rebbe’s birthday, and in later years that same day also became his day of liberation. He related that in the middle of the summer of 5655, his father, the Rebbe Rashab, told him that they would go to Lubavitch on Thursday, 12 Tammuz. They were not in Lubavitch at the time, but at a dacha, a place of rest outside Lubavitch. That year, 12 Tammuz fell on a Thursday. His father instructed him to get up before dawn that day, 12 Tammuz, and go to the river to immerse. The Rebbe Rashab went to immerse in the river, and before dawn they left the dacha where they had been staying and traveled to Lubavitch. The Frierdiker Rebbe asked his father, the Rebbe Rashab, “Arrive suddenly like that, in the middle of the day, without any advance notice? Grandmother will be startled.” He meant Grandmother Rivkah.

01:55 She was the Rebbe Rashab’s mother and the Frierdiker Rebbe’s grandmother. “Grandmother will be startled when we arrive unexpectedly.” The Rebbe Rashab said, “Don’t worry, she knows.” And so it was. They arrived in Lubavitch. The Rebbe Rashab went in to see his mother, Grandmother Rivkah, and spoke with her briefly. Then Grandmother Rivkah came out and saw them off with warm blessings. The Rebbe Rashab said to his son, the Frierdiker Rebbe, “Now we are going to the Ohel, to the resting places.” There in Lubavitch were the resting places of the Rebbe Maharash and the Tzemach Tzedek. They arrived at the holy Ohel. Outside the Ohel was a beis midrash. The Rebbe Rashab entered the beis midrash with his son and opened the Aron Kodesh. He said, “Today I am bringing my son to the akeidah. At the akeidah there is the one who binds and the one who is bound. Avraham Avinu was the one who bound his son Yitzchak, in order to [unclear].” The Rebbe Rashab said, “I want this akeidah to be as it should be.” He burst into bitter tears. His son, the Frierdiker Rebbe, did not understand what this meant, and when he saw his father crying, he too burst into tears. The Rebbe Rashab opened a Tanya and studied a few lines from the first chapter of Igeres Hakodesh, which discusses “She girds her loins with strength.” And he said, “Here, as we stand before our holy forebears, I want to make a covenant with you.” He had his son stand before him, placed his holy hands on the Frierdiker Rebbe’s head, and told him, “From today, I entrust you with the work, the sacred work of serving the community, in all material and spiritual matters.”

03:49 He said that when we delve into what is taught in “She girds her loins with strength,” we see that the work begins with the loins. After that come the intellect and the emotions. The loins are strength. The loins need a belt: “She girds her loins with strength.” The loins need a belt. The belt, the gartel around the loins, is strength. And what is that strength? The Rebbe Rashab said, “Mesiras nefesh.” And what is mesiras nefesh? He concluded, “This way and no other.” That was the story. From that day, the Frierdiker Rebbe’s work began. He was only fifteen years old, and from that day his work of actual mesiras nefesh for every aspect of Jewish life began in... in...

05:54 Russia. What happened in the years that followed is well known. The Frierdiker Rebbe’s entire life was one continuous story of mesiras nefesh. It began when he was fifteen and continued through the difficult years in Russia, when the Communists came to power, waged war against Jewish life, and wanted to abolish it altogether. He stood firm with mesiras nefesh, until they put him in prison. His liberation came on 12 Tammuz, and his life was a life of mesiras nefesh. So it was afterward as well, when he reached America, where mesiras nefesh was needed, as it was at the beginning of his work there. People still remember his saying that in certain respects it was even harder there. Mesiras nefesh in America found powerful expression in his declaration, “America is no different”—mesiras nefesh to establish chadarim and yeshivos there, and to build Jewish education in the lower hemisphere. All of this came from that same mesiras nefesh. As the Rebbe Rashab told him, what does mesiras nefesh mean? In a word, mesiras nefesh is “This way and no other.” The soul’s resolve, the resolve within the neshamah, the “This way and no other.” Wherever a person stands and finds himself, and in every

07:32 station and circumstance, Jews should have the firm resolve of “This way and no other.” That is mesiras nefesh, and that is the point that accompanied the Frierdiker Rebbe and guided him throughout his life. The parshiyos we are studying, Parshas Chukas-Balak, fall in the days associated with the day of liberation, 12 Tammuz. They speak a great deal about mesiras nefesh, both Parshas Chukas and Parshas Balak. We will discuss a point in Parshas Chukas and a point in Parshas Balak where we see mesiras nefesh. When we look at Parshas Chukas, we see it in the word “Chukas,” in the name of the parsha: “This is the statute of the Torah.” What does the word “Chukas” mean? It does not say “the statute of the cow,” as all the commentators ask, but “This is the statute of the Torah.” In other words, this statute relates to the entire Torah. What does “Chukas” mean? Chassidus brings several explanations from the students of the Baal Shem Tov, and the Rebbe Rashab explains it in Likkutei Torah. In general, there are two meanings of “Chukas.” One is its plain meaning: “I have established a statute, I have issued a decree, and you have no permission to question it.” That is the meaning of “Chukas”: a decree, a statute. With mitzvos called chukim, one fulfills the mitzvah as a statute: “I have established a statute.” We do not look for a reason or seek to understand; we fulfill the mitzvah because “He has sanctified us with His commandments and commanded us.” “I have established a statute, I have issued a decree, and you have

09:29 no permission to question it.” On the other hand, Chassidus says that although there are different kinds of mitzvos—those called chukim, those called eidos, and those called mishpatim—mitzvos that make sense to us are called mishpatim; mitzvos that commemorate the Exodus from Egypt and similar events are called eidos; and mitzvos we do not understand are called chukim. The Torah therefore says, “This is the statute of the Torah,” to tell us that, in essence and at their root, all the mitzvos of the entire Torah are statutes. The Kedushas Levi makes this point. The holy Berditchever explains the Torah’s words, “This is the statute of the Torah that Hashem commanded Moshe”: Hakadosh Boruch Hu gave the Jewish people the mitzvah of the red heifer, and they fulfill it as a statute. They are not deterred by any of the nations’ objections. They stand firm and fulfill it even though they do not know why and do not understand its reason, for it seems incomprehensible, contrary to reason. The red heifer is indeed contrary to reason: it purifies those who are impure and renders those who are pure impure. This is how Jews fulfill the Divine will with mesiras nefesh. That is the meaning of “This is the statute of the Torah that Hashem commanded Moshe”: the idea of a statute is brought into the entire Torah. When Jews fulfill any mitzvah, even a mitzvah that has a reason, a rational mitzvah, a mitzvah known through revelation—even though all mitzvos have reasons—the red heifer teaches that their approach to all their service of Hashem is: I do not do this because I understand or grasp it, but because “Hashem commanded Moshe,” because Hakadosh Boruch Hu commanded it. And then there is

11:29 The second meaning of “chukah” is that it comes from the word for engraving. Something engraved is not attached from the outside; it is engraved into the material. And not just engraved, but engraved the way the letters were on the Tablets. There is ordinary engraving, and there is engraving all the way through. On the Tablets, the letters were engraved all the way through. Whichever side you looked from, they were engraved through the full thickness, and you could see the letters from every side, from every direction and every face. They say the Tablets were not square; they were [unclear], so the letters were engraved all the way through from every side. What does this mean in the service of Hashem? This is also brought in the sefarim. The [unclear] cites the Zohar, [unclear]. “Chukah” comes from the word for a statute: a statute means observing mitzvos because they are the King’s decree, out of kabbolas ol, even when we do not understand them. Then he explains that “chukah” also comes from the word for engraving: the matter is engraved into a person. The whole Torah, the whole matter of Torah and mitzvos, is engraved in a Jew and penetrates him through and through, from every side. His entire being becomes one with it. And this applies even to something physical. What does “engraved” mean? An example in the service of Hashem: the Chiddushei HaRim discusses the verse later in the parsha: “Then Israel sang this song: ‘Rise up, O well; sing to it.’” What is the meaning of “Rise up, O well; sing to it”? This is the language of song, of Shir HaShirim. And the commentators, Rashi, explain it in practice as referring to the Torah. [unclear]. What is Shir HaShirim? [unclear] of the Torah, and particularly the Oral Torah: “The well that princes dug, that the nobles of the people excavated, with the lawgiver.” This is Torah.

13:30 [unclear]. The point of “with the lawgiver” is that the matter is engraved and penetrates inward; it becomes engraved in a person’s very being. [unclear]. This is the meaning of “chukah” as a statute: “I have established a statute, I have issued a decree; you have no permission to question it.” And “chukah” as engraving brings out mesirus nefesh in a Jew. In other words, when the service of Hashem, Torah and mitzvos, is engraved in a Jew, it is not a matter of intellect. Something founded on intellect—when it makes sense, it makes sense, but that can also change. When it no longer makes sense, [unclear]. That is a change. But when it comes to serving Hashem, if a person does something only because it is a reality he sees and understands, and observes it only through understanding—whereas for a Jew, from his own standpoint, it is mesirus nefesh. [unclear]. That is why Torah and mitzvos are engraved in him, and not merely engraved, but engraved all the way through. They penetrate his entire being. They are not just one part of him; Torah and mitzvos are within him. This is mesirus nefesh. [unclear]. And this is the meaning of “I have established a statute, I have issued a decree.” [unclear]. From the Jew’s mesirus nefesh comes this engraving. [unclear].

15:24 [unclear]. There is another meaning of the word “chukah.” The third meaning is along the lines of “He gave them a law and an appointed time, that they should not change their task.” This is the idea of chukah: constancy. “Chukah” means a decree—observing it out of kabbolas ol even without understanding. “Chukah” as engraving means that it penetrates a person completely. And “chukah” in the sense of “a law and an appointed time” means that the law is fixed, without change. It remains in force, with its full strength, without change. [unclear]. This is what we see. There is what was told about the Frierdiker Rebbe: mesirus nefesh marked every day of his life, in all the different places he lived. He stood firm, especially after his leadership began, when he began to conduct himself as a Rebbe. When he was in [unclear], one could see it in him: he spent ten years in Russia, and those were the hardest years in Russia, years when the Communists wanted to destroy Judaism. He stood against that wicked regime with actual mesirus nefesh. Ultimately, in those days, he showed actual mesirus nefesh, to the point of risking his life. During his imprisonment, when no Jew [unclear], the entire imprisonment.

16:59 It was truly a threat to his life, and it was a great miracle that the whole situation was reversed. That was the miracle of 12 Tammuz. Afterward, he spent ten years in Poland and those countries, where he had a different kind of mesirus nefesh in the service of Hashem: spreading Torah and Chabad Chassidus throughout various communities and places. Those were the ten years he spent in Riga and Poland. Then he spent ten years in America, which at the time was truly a barren wilderness as far as Judaism was concerned. The Frierdiker Rebbe showed tremendous mesirus nefesh to change America, to make it a place of Torah, and from there to reach all the neighboring countries as well. That was genuine mesirus nefesh of every kind. And this is the weekly parsha, Parshas Chukas, which teaches us this idea: a Jew must have this quality of engraving. Torah and mitzvos must be engraved in the Jewish soul; they become one with him. And then it is in the manner of “He gave them a law and an appointed time, that they should not change their task,” because for him it is “I have established a statute, I have issued a decree.” He gives himself over to Hashem without any calculations, devoting himself completely. As we said: this way and no other. In Parshas Balak, we find one point expressed in several verses. In Parshas Balak, we are speaking about [unclear].

18:28 There we clearly see mesirus nefesh among Jews, this idea of “this way and no other.” Parshas Balak tells the story of Bilaam’s prophecies. In Bilaam’s prophecies we find many things, including some of the greatest prophecies praising the Jewish people. And they came specifically from Bilaam, a true hater of the Jewish people who, as the Midrashim and commentaries explain, was their greatest enemy. As the Midrash in Devarim says, when Hakadosh Boruch Hu wanted someone to speak in praise of the Jewish people, He chose specifically—as the Midrash says there, when the Jews needed to be rebuked, He brought Moshe Rabbeinu, who loved the Jewish people. Moshe Rabbeinu, of all people, would rebuke them. But when someone needed to speak in their praise, He chose the very opposite: Bilaam, Moshe Rabbeinu’s greatest opponent, a man with an evil eye and all those traits, a hater of the Jewish people. And from him came the greatest blessings. We see that Bilaam’s many blessings praise the Jewish people in a number of ways. But look at the first thing Bilaam says, from the moment he arrives, takes his place and begins to praise them. He opens with the verse: “For from the tops of the rocks I see him, and from the hills I behold him: behold, a people that dwells alone and is not reckoned among the nations.” In other words, the first verse

20:01 Bilaam says is, “For from the tops of the rocks I see him, and from the hills I behold him.” What praise of the Jewish people is Bilaam expressing here? There is a beautiful explanation of this in [unclear]. He says: What do Bilaam’s words mean—“For from the tops of the rocks I see him, and from the hills I behold him: behold, a people that dwells alone and is not reckoned among the nations”? He explains it this way: “For from the tops of the rocks I see him” refers to the time when Hakadosh Boruch Hu created the world. “From the tops of the rocks”—“the beginning” means from Bereishis, when the rocks and hills, the mountains and hills, were created by Hakadosh Boruch Hu, at the very beginning of Creation. So what does “From the tops of the rocks I see him, and from the hills I behold him” mean? When we look at Bereishis, we see what Rashi says: “Bereishis—for the sake of the Torah and for the sake of Israel.” The entire world—the mountains and hills, all those rocks, everything Hakadosh Boruch Hu created at the very beginning—was created only for the Torah and for the Jewish people. The whole world was created only for Jews. “Behold, a people that dwells alone”—there was only one people in Hakadosh Boruch Hu’s thoughts, for whose sake He created the entire world. “And is not reckoned among the nations”: the Baal Shem Tov says that Hakadosh Boruch Hu did not take the existence of the nations into account at all. So Bilaam now argues: If that is so, how could a non-Jew come and curse Jews? How could a non-Jew come and say anything

21:36 Something about Jews? And where is that idea expressed? After all, “From the tops of the rocks I see them”—already from the creation of the world, the nations have no standing: “They are not reckoned among the nations.” The only reality is “Behold, a people that dwells alone.” But when we look at Rashi, we see something interesting. What does “From the tops of the rocks I see them” mean? Rashi says: “I look at their beginnings and the origins of their roots, and I see them founded and strong like these rocks and hills, through the patriarchs and matriarchs.” In other words, Balaam says: I look at the Jews and see that they are founded and strong—strong like the rocks and hills—through the patriarchs and matriarchs. And here an interesting question begins. Rashi, after all, explains the plain meaning of Scripture. All the commentators who explain the plain meaning—if you look at Ibn Ezra, Ramban, and the others—explain it literally. Why bring Midrashim in here? “For from the tops of the rocks I see them”—Balaam wanted [unclear] Israel; his intentions were the opposite of a blessing. And Hakadosh Boruch Hu reversed them: “Hashem your G-d transformed the curse into a blessing for you.” Balaam took his position atop the rocks. All the commentators who explain the plain meaning say just that: Balaam wanted to see the entire people so he could do what he intended. That is why he stood there: “From the tops of the rocks I see them”—I see the people from the tops of the rocks and from the hills. He is standing on a mountain, on a rock, and from there he sees the people. So why does Rashi introduce a new, Midrashic interpretation here? It is a beautiful Midrash, but why does he need to bring it? And we have not finished yet.

23:12 Understandably, the Midrash says that “the rocks are the patriarchs” and “the hills are the matriarchs.” But Rashi does not say that. Rashi says something else. On “For from the tops of the rocks I see them, and from the hills I behold them,” Rashi says: “I look at their beginnings.” Balaam says: I look at the beginning, at the root of the Jewish people, and see them founded and strong like rocks and hills through the patriarchs and matriarchs. This is an interesting Rashi: it is neither the plain meaning of the verse nor even the Midrash. What is Rashi telling us here? I saw a wonderful explanation from the Rebbe. He says that, first of all, even according to the literal meaning, when we look at the verse “He took up his parable and said,” it means Balaam is about to give a parable. So when we reach “For from the tops of the rocks I see them, and from the hills I behold them,” we need to find the parable. According to the straightforward interpretation, there is no parable here: “From the tops of the rocks I see them”—I am standing on a mountain, on a rock, and from this rock I speak about the people. Fine, but where is the parable? So Rashi says: No, there is a wonderful parable here. He is giving a parable. And what is it? The rocks and hills. Just as the rocks are strong and the hills are solid mountains, so Balaam says, “For from the tops of the rocks I see them, and from the hills I behold them.” I see strength here. Just as the rocks and hills are strong, so too are the Jews. And this is their strength—

24:57 strength. “I see them”—I see tremendous strength in the Jewish people. Where do they get this tremendous strength? It is the strength they inherited from the patriarchs and matriarchs, the power of mesirus nefesh they inherited from the patriarchs. As is known, the Alter Rebbe says in Tanya that every Jew, in every generation, “even the most unworthy and the sinners of Israel,” has the steadfastness of mesirus nefesh, which Jews inherited from Avraham Avinu. Because of this, no Jew wants to, or can, be separated from Hakadosh Boruch Hu. This is the power of mesirus nefesh passed on to every Jew by the patriarchs and matriarchs. So I understand that this is the parable: just as rocks and hills are strong, so too the Jews have strength. But a question seems to arise: if we call it a parable, that means it is only a parable. The lesson, then, is something different from the parable. What is the point of a parable? A parable is something physical in this world, and from it we learn the lesson, which is something far higher, far deeper, far stronger. What is the difference here between the parable and its lesson, when we say that the rocks and hills are merely—

26:19 a parable, while the lesson is the strength of the Jews? The Rebbe said something wonderful: when we speak of a stone and of Jews, the strength of a rock or a hill, of a mountain, and the strength of Jews are not merely different kinds of strength. They are actual opposites, opposite forms of strength. The strength of a stone or a mountain comes from its substantiality. The more tangible its existence, the stronger it is. Its substantiality is what gives it strength. But when we speak of the Jewish people, of the strength of mesirus nefesh, it is precisely the opposite: it comes specifically from the greatest bittul, from a Jew’s having no independent existence at all. When the soul shines within Jews, when they have the quality of engraving—it is engraved within them. The “literal part of G-d above” permeates them entirely. And that is true bittul: a Jew has no independent existence at all. His entire existence is simply that he is a literal part of G-d above. And the ultimate bittul is the greatest strength the Jews possess. As explained in Chassidus, bittul is not weakness. Bittul is not what one might understand from the word’s ordinary sense, as though it describes someone weak: he is nullified, he is nothing. It is precisely the opposite.

27:58 In Chassidus, bittul means devotion. When a person has bittul, it means he is devoted and given over, that he has no independent existence, as the Alter Rebbe explains in Tanya. And where do Jews get the power of mesirus nefesh? From the fact that “Hashem is one” shines in their souls. “Hashem is one” shines within every Jew—the ultimate bittul, in which he has no independent existence at all. His entire existence is simply “a literal part of G-d above.” This is the recognition that “Hashem is one”: Hakadosh Boruch Hu is one, and there is no existence besides Him. This shines in his soul, and because of it he is utterly steadfast. This bittul gives him the greatest strength. That is the strength of mesirus nefesh the Jews inherited: this way and no other. Devotion to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, with no other possibility, because that is the Divine will. Then Balaam comes along. Balaam wanted to seek out the exact opposite; he was wicked and wanted, Heaven forbid, the opposite for Israel, G-d forbid. But the moment he began to speak, he immediately expressed the Jews’ greatest steadfastness, which endures in every generation without change. [unclear] that this is something eternal. And the question immediately arises: why is mesirus nefesh eternal? For example, if we are talking about the will and strength of a

29:19 rock, a stone from a mountain, that is physical strength, and over time it can change. The strength of a created being, of something substantial, of a large stone—ultimately, with all the winds and all the changes that take place in the world, even the stone will weaken, until it breaks and nothing remains of it. Physical strength, the strength of a created being, eventually weakens and disappears. But this strength comes specifically from “Hashem is one” shining in a Jew’s soul. It is Divine strength, the strength we inherited from the patriarchs and matriarchs. As the Alter Rebbe says in Tanya, “The patriarchs are the chariot”: they were completely devoted to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, “and therefore merited to draw this down to their descendants after them.” A Jew’s power of mesirus nefesh comes from the fact that he has no independent existence at all; everything is “Hashem is one.” And from the perspective of “Hashem is one,” “I, Hashem, have not changed”—there are no changes. Therefore mesirus nefesh is eternal. It shines within Jews at every time and on every occasion, without change. This is what Rashi says: “I see a people,” says Balaam. Balaam stands hundreds of years after Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov and sees the Jewish people. And the Jewish people have already spent forty years in the desert, with all the trials and sins and everything they have been through. And after

30:46 all of that, “I see a people”—I see the Jewish people unchanged in their deepest foundation and greatest strength, in their greatest power, the power of mesirus nefesh: this way and no other. And this teaching is well known: one of the first teachings cited from the Baal Shem Tov, and also brought from the Alter Rebbe, concerns “A maskil of Eisan the Ezrachite.” What does “A maskil of Eisan the Ezrachite” mean? As is known, the Midrash says, “Eisan is Avraham.” One of Avraham Avinu’s names was Eisan. And the Rambam, in the laws of idolatry, calls Avraham Avinu “Eisan.” Avraham Avinu’s name “Eisan” denotes steadfastness. Eisan has three meanings: strong, firm, and ancient. That same ancient, firm strength exists in every Jew. Here the Baal Shem Tov says, “A maskil of Eisan”—concerning that ancient, firm strength of mesirus nefesh that Jews inherited from the first Eisan, from Avraham Avinu, “the Ezrachite,” and that shines in every Jew at every time and on every occasion. This is where the power of mesirus nefesh comes from: even after two thousand years in exile, in the greatest darkness, a darkness doubled and redoubled, a Jew comes and stands firm,

32:21 With firmness: this way and no other. This is his bond with Hashem, and it is ingrained in his soul: this way and no other. It is engraved within him, permeating every detail—every thought, word, and deed, and everything he does. It is engraved deep in his heart and soul, and this is the true essence of a Jew. As a result, what is written later in the parsha will be fulfilled: “Behold, a people that dwells alone and is not reckoned among the nations.” May we soon, in our days, see all the prophecies, blessings, and promises that appear later in the parsha—“A star shall go forth from Yaakov, and a scepter shall arise from Yisroel.” May we see them soon in our days, amen. May the glory of the Jewish people be revealed here in the world, openly, through the complete Geulah, through Moshiach Tzidkeinu. Then, “Yisroel shall do valiantly.”