Parshas Masei - What Does Parshas Masei Teach Us? - Rabbi Asher Parkesh

00:02 There was a chossid named Reb Zusha Wilimovsky. Reb Zusha Wilimovsky was called “the Partisan.” Who was this chossid? Before the war, he studied at the yeshiva in Baranovitch with Reb Elchonon Wasserman. Then, when the war began, he fled to the forest and joined the partisans. He survived; he saved his life. After the war, he went to Eretz Yisroel. When he arrived there, he began studying Chabad Chassidus, grew close to Chassidus, and grew close to the Rebbe of Lubavitch. The first time he came to the Rebbe was in Tishrei 5722. While he was with the Rebbe, the Rebbe called him “the Partisan.” The Rebbe said: “What is a partisan? He is someone whose work may not necessarily be orderly, and who involves himself in everything. But everything, small or large, is done with the greatest dedication and self-sacrifice. When it comes to bringing Moshiach, and there are still a few things that need to be done to bring Moshiach, there is no time to put oneself into a fixed routine. But everything is done with the highest purpose in mind. That is the partisan’s role: to be involved in everything.” And as is well known, Reb Zusha was a Jew who devoted himself to this with his whole soul. He was

01:47 the Rebbe’s man in Eretz Yisroel, and in that capacity he worked on everything connected with education, Yiddishkeit, and other matters. The first time he was with the Rebbe, at a farbrengen, the Rebbe called him over in the middle of the farbrengen and gave him “l’chaim” from his own holy cup. He also gave him some of the mezonos that were on the table in front of the Rebbe. When Reb Zusha had to return to his place—it was in the shul at 770, and there was a very large crowd and a great deal of pushing, so it was not easy to get back to where he had been standing—the Rebbe said to him with a smile: “Now be careful on your way back. It’s a narrow path. Watch how you walk, but I’ll keep an eye on you. I’ll watch you and look after you as you return to your place.” Reb Zusha heard those words and heard an entirely different meaning in them, though the plain meaning was clear. On the surface, he heard the Rebbe speaking about the physical situation: the path was narrow, people were pushing, and one could fall. Anyone who knows what the place looked like, with so many chassidim and such crowding, can understand that. But Reb Zusha heard something else entirely. He heard the Rebbe speaking to him about

03:29 the whole path of his life. Reb Zusha said he lived his entire life with those words. They were among the first words he heard the Rebbe say to him personally, and he lived with them all his life. The path we take through life, the paths each person must follow to fulfill his shlichus, to fulfill the higher purpose and the mission for which the soul descended into this world—after all, “all roads are presumed dangerous,” and one must be careful. To this the Rebbe said to him: “I’ll watch over you.” That is to say, there is a tzaddik who gives us strength and watches over us, so that the path we take through the world will be the right one, and we will not fall to either side, G-d forbid. The weekly parsha is Parshas Masei. In Parshas Masei it says: “These are the journeys of the Children of Israel who went out of the land of Egypt.” There it says, “Moshe wrote down their points of departure according to their journeys,” and afterward it says, “And these are their journeys according to their points of departure.” In Parshas Masei, the Torah lists the forty-two journeys, all the journeys the Children of Israel made from the time they left Egypt until they reached Eretz Yisroel. The commentators, as is well known, ask many questions here. First, what is the purpose of it altogether? Rashi asks, and all the commentators ask: What is the purpose of the Torah recounting the forty-two journeys all over again? And

05:03 making a whole account and an ordered list of it: “Moshe wrote down their points of departure according to their journeys, and their journeys according to their points of departure.” What is the point of saying “Moshe wrote down” all this? What does it mean? Then there is the question: Why is it called “journeys,” in the plural? “These are the journeys of the Children of Israel who went out of the land of Egypt.” Seemingly, there was only one journey on which they left Egypt. The Alter Rebbe asks this question. Other commentators asked it before him, but the Alter Rebbe asks in Likkutei Torah: Why are all these journeys called “the journeys of the Children of Israel who went out of the land of Egypt”? Seemingly, they left Egypt only on the first journey. After that, they traveled from other places. They went from one place to another, and from there to a third place. They left Egypt on the first journey, yet all the journeys are described as those “who went out of the land of Egypt.” Then there is the more basic question: Why call these “journeys”? Seemingly, the forty-two places where they camped were encampments, not journeys. Yet it says, “These are the journeys of the Children of Israel who went out of the land of Egypt.” In other words, the encampments are called journeys. As I noticed, Rashi at the end of Parshas Pekudei says that since they camped and then traveled, the encampments too are called journeys. But still,

06:31 it is interesting that the Torah calls the encampments here “journeys”; seemingly, “encampments” would have been the more fitting word. Then we need to understand the words “Moshe wrote down.” First of all, why does the Torah emphasize “Moshe wrote down”? Moshe wrote the entire Torah. The Torah could have begun immediately with “These are the journeys” and listed the journeys. What is the point of emphasizing “Moshe wrote down their points of departure according to their journeys”—that Moshe Rabbeinu wrote this? It also says “through Moshe and Aharon.” The Torah emphasizes that the journeys were through Moshe and Aharon. What does that emphasis mean? And here, too, the Torah says “Moshe wrote down,” that Moshe wrote down the journeys. Then there is the question: Why does it first say, “Moshe wrote down their points of departure according to their journeys”? First “their points of departure” and then “their journeys,” whereas at the end it says, “And these are their journeys according to their points of departure”—first “their journeys” and then “their points of departure.” The basis of the explanation is a teaching of the Baal Shem Tov, cited in Degel Machaneh Ephraim, written by the Baal Shem Tov’s grandson. He writes, “I heard from my grandfather,” relating what he heard from his grandfather, the holy Baal Shem Tov: the journeys of the Children of Israel are relevant to every soul. Every Jew has his own journeys. Throughout his life, from the moment he leaves his mother’s womb until he reaches the land of life, as he puts it there, [unclear] the land of life—all these are

08:01 the journeys. These are the steps upward that a Jew goes through from day to day, from year to year, and from one period to the next; he goes through the forty-two journeys. He explains that tzaddikim know which journeys they must go through, and know where they stand on each journey. He also cites Toldos Yaakov Yosef, which relates something heard from the Baal Shem Tov: during that well-known journey, the holy journey on which the Baal Shem Tov traveled to Eretz Yisroel, when the whole incident happened in Turkey and the ship was wrecked, he was deeply distressed and dejected. His renowned teacher, Achiya Hashiloni, appeared to him and said: “Why are you so broken?” He revealed to him which journey he was on and what happens during that journey, and this reassured him. That is how it is with great tzaddikim. Nevertheless, he says, the journeys are part of every Jew’s life. He says there that the journeys are connected with a Jew’s free choice: he can choose what his journeys will be like. Through Moshe Rabbeinu—“Moshe wrote down”—Moshe Rabbeinu gives him the strength for all of a Jew’s journeys to be holy. In other words, when Moshe Rabbeinu writes down the journeys, he writes them as they are in their source above, where all the journeys are holy. Seemingly, though, the question arises: Were not many of the journeys the Children of Israel went through undesirable?

09:25 And in general, throughout a person’s life there are journeys: journeys of ascent and journeys of descent; journeys in which a Jew is in a state of limited understanding, a state of smallness, a state of descent, and journeys in which he is in a state of ascent. So it was with the journeys of the Children of Israel: some journeys were better, and some were difficult. But how could it be that “Moshe wrote down” from the outset? The holy Baal Shem Tov says that from Moshe Rabbeinu’s perspective, from the perspective of “Moshe wrote down,” all the journeys are holy. They were all lofty matters above. Everything the Children of Israel encountered then, as they went through the forty-two journeys in the wilderness of the nations, was, from Hakadosh Boruch Hu’s perspective, so to speak, a matter of holiness. He gives an example: Kivros Hataavah—“They camped at Kivros Hataavah,” the Graves of Craving. The name “Kivros Hataavah” seemingly denotes something undesirable. After all, we know that at Kivros Hataavah, “there they buried the people who craved.” But he says that as the matter exists above, its meaning is exactly the opposite: “Kivros Hataavah” means burying one’s cravings. The Children of Israel rose to the level of chochmah, and when they rose to the level of chochmah, a higher level of greatness, through that they “buried the people who craved.” That is “Kivros Hataavah”: when a Jew reaches the level of chochmah and the power of

10:56 Submission to Hakadosh Boruch Hu buries the desires. All the desires of this world are buried completely for him; they have no value or importance. That is how it is above. But down here there is “choose life,” and there are two paths. A person can choose life, or he can choose the opposite, G-d forbid. That was the descent and the fall: instead of it being for the good, it was, Heaven forbid, for the worse. Instead of burying the desires in “they buried the people who craved,” the desires buried them, and they stumbled then in their craving for meat, as the Torah tells us. All the journeys, as they exist above, are lofty and proper matters. When they come down here, it depends on the person: does he turn them, G-d forbid, into something undesirable, or, on the contrary, into something good? And of course, the Baal Shem Tov teaches that a descent is for the sake of an ascent. So even if there was a period of falling in a person’s life, and there were undesirable journeys, through the work of teshuvah the descent becomes the means to an ascent. When deliberate sins are transformed into merits, those undesirable journeys are included too. Ultimately, they all become journeys for the good, uplifting the Jew and taking him higher and higher. According to this, the entire parsha of the journeys is [unclear].

12:21 [unclear] in everyday life. So the word “Masei” tells us that a Jew must always be moving. The instruction and lesson the Torah teaches us through the name and content of the parsha—“Masei”—is that a Jew must always be moving. I recall what the Tzemach Tzedek says in Chassidus, based on the teaching of our Sages: “This world, which we leave, is like a wedding feast.” This world, “which we leave,” is “like a wedding feast.” When someone goes to a wedding, he takes the opportunity to eat there as much as he knows he can. This analogy is brought in Chassidus. What do our Sages mean? “This world”—our world, this physical world; “which we leave” uses a word that also means walking: in this world, a Jew becomes one who “walks,” who advances. When the soul is above, it “stands.” The soul above, in Gan Eden, enjoys the radiance of the Shechinah; it is in a very lofty world. The soul above is very holy and very elevated. What could be higher than that? But it is in the category of those who “stand.” The soul above stands at one level. Incidentally, there are ascents above too, but they are orderly, gradual ascents, and that is why they are called standing. It is not a true ascent from one extreme to the other, an ascent beyond all proportion. By contrast, when the soul descends here below,

13:55 it is precisely through this stage of the soul—its descent down here into a body, a descent from a lofty height into a deep pit. For the soul, this is an enormous descent, an enormous descent from the highest heights to the lowest depths. Yet here below, in this physical world, through its work with Torah and physical mitzvos, the soul experiences “which we leave”—the capacity to advance. Through its descent into this world, it becomes one who “walks,” and not necessarily in an orderly, gradual fashion. In a single hour, in a single moment, it can advance from one extreme to the other. A person can leap over levels. This, too, is alluded to in the word “Masei.” “Masei” can also be understood as related to hesech hadaas—turning one’s attention away. It is very interesting that the Babylonian Talmud uses the wording “hesech hadaas,” “masiach daas,” while the Jerusalem Talmud says “masia daas,” “hesia daas,” “yasi’u atzmam.” It is an expression of detachment. “Hesech hadaas” means removing one’s attention; “hesia daas” in the language of the Jerusalem Talmud means the same thing. In other words, “Masei” can be understood not only as traveling but also as detachment. “The journeys of the Children of Israel”: a person detaches himself from his state, from the place where he stands, and leaps from one extreme to the other. The Alter Rebbe explains in several places in Likkutei Torah the special advantage of this physical world. In the World to Come, since everything there follows an established order, one cannot leap. A person wants to do teshuvah, wants to jump ahead—but no, there is an order and a gradual progression. [unclear]

15:37 In an orderly, gradual progression. That is why they are called those who “stand.” It is specifically this physical world that the Alter Rebbe associates, in several places, with sovev kol almin. In other words, this is a world not confined to an orderly progression; it involves the infinite, something from nothing. So a Jew can make a leap in a single hour, in a single moment, through the power of teshuvah, and go from one extreme to the other. And then it says, “which we leave is like a wedding feast.” A wedding feast is the greatest joy, arising from the boundlessness drawn down at a wedding, from the power of the Infinite. Every mitzvah a Jew performs in this world is a wedding feast; it is a wedding, the greatest joy. So here it says, “These are the journeys of the Children of Israel.” “Masei”—“journeys”—is plural. What exactly is the Torah telling us by using the plural? That on every journey, on every day of his life, a Jew must leave Egypt. Yesterday he engaged in Torah and mitzvos; yesterday he served Hakadosh Boruch Hu. He made a journey, a departure; he detached himself and went from one extreme to the other, leaving his limitations behind. His service of Hashem that day was a journey, a departure from Egypt. But today, if your day is exactly like yesterday, that is not a journey. You have remained stuck in exile, because where you are today is still Egypt. That is why it says of all the journeys, “Masei” in the plural, “in which they left the land of Egypt.” It is one extended Exodus from Egypt.

17:12 Every journey, every day in relation to the day before it, is a departure from Egypt—from the constraints and limitations of the previous day. If my tomorrow is like today, and today is like yesterday, that is still Egypt, still constraint and limitation. Egypt does not mean only, G-d forbid, kelipah and worldly matters. Egypt can exist within holiness too; it means constraints and limitations within holiness. That happens when I serve Hakadosh Boruch Hu today as I did yesterday, and yesterday as I did the day before. As the Alter Rebbe says in Tanya about “one who has not served Him”: someone who has studied something a hundred times, until it has become habitual for him, is still not sufficiently a “servant of G-d.” What makes someone a “servant of G-d”? The hundred-and-first time, when he goes beyond his habit. Leaving one’s constraints and limitations, leaving one’s habits—that is what makes it a journey, a departure. That is why “Masei” is plural: every day, one must leave the land of Egypt. How do we approach this, how do we advance further in this? We know that this is the pattern of life: to keep leaving our constraints and limitations behind. If we look at the parsha, let’s talk about the first journey and the last journey. The first journey begins at Ramses: “They journeyed from Ramses.” What does “They journeyed from Ramses” mean? There is a wonderful explanation the Rebbe gives based on the teachings of the Arizal. There is a teaching of the Arizal that

18:41 There is another point, a different point. The Rebbe explains that Ramses is connected with Pithom and Ramses in Egypt. Why were these two places, the storage cities where the Children of Israel worked in Egypt, called Pithom and Ramses? The Rebbe says that Pithom suggests “pi tehom,” the mouth of the abyss, and Ramses suggests “ra mesas,” evil in the stomach. “Pi tehom,” he says, refers to the mouth—the mouth is [unclear] an abyss. When a person does not guard his mouth, what he says, [unclear] forbidden speech, lashon hara, gossip, mockery, and the like. And similarly with eating: when he is not careful about what he eats, that is “pi tehom.” Similarly, Ramses—“ra mesas.” The mesas is one of the internal organs of digestion through which food passes, part of the intestines that receive the food. This is what “Ramses” refers to: the desire for food, when a person eats things that satisfy his cravings. Accordingly, “They journeyed from Ramses” means that the first journey in leaving one’s personal constraints and limitations, the coarseness of the body and the animal soul, is to leave Ramses behind. The beginning of avodah according to Chassidus, then, concerns the desire for food and the power of that desire. This is what leads to, in the expression he quotes, “When he fills his belly, evil follows.” Through the force of these desires, a person

20:21 He becomes completely immersed in matters of the opposing side, in the matters of Egypt, as it says: “We remember the fish that we ate in Egypt for free”—“for free,” as they put it. And when one wants to leave Egypt, the first step in the avodah must be “they journeyed from Ramses”: leaving behind the desire for food so that one can set out on the path of serving Hashem. And so, in the Exodus from Egypt, one proceeds from level to level. There is a wonderful explanation from the Rebbe concerning the first journeys, based on the first Rashi in today’s parsha. At the beginning of the parsha, concerning the journeys, Rashi gives a parable. Why does Moshe Rabbeinu write out the journeys again? Rashi says it is like a king who traveled with his son, the prince, and when they had completed all their journeys, he went back over them with him and recounted what had happened. He told him: “Here we slept, here we felt cold, and here your head ached.” That is the parable he gives. What are these three things? Every detail in Rashi is precise. The source is in the Midrash; Rashi takes it from the Midrash, and nevertheless, the details are precise. What are these three things: “Here we slept, here we felt cold, and here your head ached”? First, on the plain meaning of the text, there is a wonderful explanation of all three. The first three journeys were from Ramses to Sukkos, then to Eisam, and then the journey to Pi Hachiros. On those three journeys, this is what happened: on the first journey,

22:07 from Ramses to Sukkos, they lay down there to sleep. It was night, so “we slept” means just that. Then, when they reached Eisam, the Clouds of Glory appeared, as the verse says. Until then they had not had the Clouds of Glory, so they felt the heat of the sun. When the Clouds of Glory came, it was “we felt cold”: the clouds cooled them by blocking the sun. Then, on the third journey, at Pi Hachiros, they began to argue, as related in Parshas Beshalach, that they wanted to return to Egypt. They became frightened, and that is “your head ached”—doubts arose in them, and they thought about returning to Egypt. That, then, is the meaning of “your head ached”: their heads hurt. In other words, they began using their heads and wondering whether they had done the right thing. These are the three points according to the plain meaning of the text, and from them we can understand all the other journeys Rashi has in mind. But there is another wonderful explanation given by the Rebbe. He says there that all this can be understood in a person’s inner avodah. When we speak about the journeys, there is the soul’s journey, which begins with its descent into the world. The soul’s descent below, as we discussed earlier, is the matter of the journeys. And there are two parts to this: there is the soul’s descent from above to below, from a lofty roof to a deep pit. “The soul You have given me is pure”—the soul as it exists

23:38 in Atzilus—and “You created it, You formed it, You breathed it into me.” The soul descends from level to level until it is clothed in a body. That is the soul’s descent, its journey from above to below. Then there is the journey in which a Jew serves Hakadosh Boruch Hu, begins and continues traveling, as we discussed earlier—a journey of holiness in which he rises from level to level, from strength to strength. This is the ascent that comes through the descent. And these are, in fact, the two ideas written here in the verse: “Moshe wrote down their points of departure according to their journeys.” “Their points of departure”—a point of departure is a source, as in “the source of water.” This is the soul as it is pure above. “According to their journeys”—the soul descends on its journey here below. Then it says, “And these are their journeys toward their points of departure”: the soul travels from below to above, rising “toward their points of departure,” back to its source. Of course, that “point of departure” is not the same “point of departure.” “The descent is for the sake of an ascent” means that the ascent is incomparably higher than the soul’s state before its descent. But what is the purpose of the soul’s descent into the world? In the soul’s descent below, there are three matters: [unclear], and this is the journey from Ramses to Sukkos. Then there is [unclear], from Sukkos to Eisam. And then there is freedom of choice. What does that mean? We’ll explain in a moment. The whole descent, in which Hakadosh Boruch Hu brings the soul down below, begins with the first descent. The first

25:17 descent was one that Hakadosh Boruch Hu Himself brought about, when He contracted and concealed His light. After all, the light was immense. Clearly, the root of all descents begins with what Hakadosh Boruch Hu Himself did: at first, before the creation of the world, the infinite light filled all of existence—He alone, He and His name alone. And for a world to be possible, there had to be tzimtzum. “At first, it arose in His thought to create the world with the attribute of judgment.” The attribute of judgment, the name Elokim—“In the beginning, Elokim created”—is the tzimtzum. Hakadosh Boruch Hu concealed the light so that a world could exist. When Hakadosh Boruch Hu’s light shines powerfully in the world, everything is utterly nullified. So the first thing was darkness. This is what is meant by “darkness came first”: the darkness in which Hakadosh Boruch Hu hid and concealed His light. But afterward, as the Midrash says, “He saw that the world could not endure, so He joined the attribute of mercy to it.” With the attribute of judgment alone, with tzimtzum alone, the world cannot endure. So kindness and mercy were also needed—“He joined the attribute of mercy to it.” The Midrash in Bereishis gives a parable about a king who had glass cups. He said, “What sort of water should I put in them? If I put in hot water, the glass will shatter. These are delicate cups, very thin crystal cups; if I put in hot water, they’ll shatter. If I put in cold water, they’ll get dirty. The cold water clings to them, and the cup will become covered with grime; it

26:49 will get dirty.” So he said, “I will blend the attribute of judgment with the attribute of mercy.” What does that mean? Heat is judgment, gevurot. It is hot, boiling; that is the nature of the attribute of judgment. Kindness is associated with coolness, with cold water. And so that is what he says: first the attribute of judgment, and then “He joined the attribute of mercy to it.” Now let’s return to the subject in light of this. In the Exodus from Egypt, as is known, the first thing in the soul’s descent into this world, in its descent below, is [unclear]. The matter of [unclear], sleep, is a matter of concealment and tzimtzum. Quite simply, when a person is asleep, the soul is not [unclear]. It is a matter of descent and tzimtzum, a matter of concealment. Barely any of the senses remain active in the body—just a little vitality, as people say. That is [unclear]; that is the tzimtzum, the concealment. That is the first descent. But then he says [unclear], “He joined the attribute of mercy to it.” After all, Hakadosh Boruch Hu does not want a person to experience only descent. He wants a person to have the attribute of kindness as well, revelation and light, so that life can be possible through them. The attribute of mercy must be present too. And that is [unclear]. We spoke about coolness, about cold water, about the attribute of kindness that mingles with the gevurot. Then he speaks of freedom of choice. There must be free choice. When there is the attribute of judgment and the attribute of mercy, free choice becomes possible; a person can

28:19 face a choice, and he has to choose a path. On one hand, he sees the world, he sees the desires of this world, he sees materiality, he sees [unclear], and he is uncertain. He has to decide, and his choice must be “Choose life”—that true life is found only in G-dliness. And that is [unclear] in a person’s avodah. As we said, the purpose of the entire descent is to reach the greatest ascent. That is what we mean when we say that the journeys are all about “Moshe wrote down their points of departure according to their journeys,” and “their journeys toward their points of departure.” The souls descend from above to below, but the purpose is for them to rise to the highest levels, all the way to Yarden Yericho. Yarden Yericho is the culmination of all the journeys; it is the last journey. Yarden Yericho points to the revelation of Moshiach. As is known, the verse says of Moshiach, “He will perceive with the sense of smell in the fear of Hashem.” Of Moshiach it says: “The spirit of Hashem will rest upon him, a spirit of wisdom and understanding, a spirit of counsel and strength, a spirit of knowledge and fear of Hashem; and he will perceive with the sense of smell in the fear of Hashem.” Moshiach will have the ability to “smell and judge,” as the Gemara says in Sanhedrin. The sense of smell points to fear of Heaven. As people say in Yiddish, “That doesn’t smell right,” correct? Smell is a sense that goes beyond reason, sensing what lies beneath the surface. A person who has fear of Heaven has a sense

29:51 The sense of smell: a person senses and feels, and when he does not feel safe, he can sense what he needs to guard against. This is the perfection of serving Hashem with fear of Heaven, when it reaches the level of smell—the level of Moshiach. As we discussed earlier, according to the Baal Shem Tov, every Jew has “the Moshiach within him,” and here he must discover what the Jordan at Jericho means for him. This helps us understand the special order of our parsha, which gives us a path in serving Hashem. The parsha says, “And Moshe wrote”; and it says, “These are the journeys of the children of Israel who went out of the land of Egypt under the leadership of Moshe and Aharon.” Moshe and Aharon are the two tzaddikim of whom the Zohar says: “Moshe is the king’s attendant; Aharon is the queen’s attendant.” Moshe Rabbeinu comes from the King, from Hakadosh Boruch Hu, and brings Hashem into the world through the Torah. Aharon HaKohen represents ascent from below to above. He is “the queen’s attendant”—the queen being the Jewish people—and he elevates the Jewish people through prayer. “And Moshe wrote”: this gives a Jew the strength to carry out his work in the world, to make the journey, to know where to go and how to travel, and to be able to travel [unclear]. In this way he can pass through this world and fulfill the higher intent: that the souls’ descent should lead to an ascent. And this comes through “And Moshe wrote”: through Moshe Rabbeinu, and likewise through “the extension of Moshe in every generation.” He

31:17 He is the one who writes, the one who records and recounts, and he gives us the strength to reveal the inner meaning of every journey. So even journeys that involved bad things can be transformed: transgressions can be turned into merits, and everything into virtues, until the greatest things emerge from them. This too is the strength Moshe Rabbeinu gives us through “And he wrote.” And “And he wrote” is also [unclear]: “The seal of Hakadosh Boruch Hu is truth”—that this will indeed be brought about in practice in this physical world, enabling a Jew to make his journeys. All this comes through the strength and empowerment of Moshe Rabbeinu, the Moshe Rabbeinu of every generation, who shows us the right way to serve Hakadosh Boruch Hu. This extends to our generation: just as journeys are part of an individual’s life, they are also part of the life of the Jewish people as a whole. Our generation, the last generation, is the generation of the Jordan at Jericho. It is the generation of Jericho, of “He shall sense through his fear of Hashem,” in which the fragrance can be sensed. We can already smell the fragrance of Moshiach. Through the sense of smell connected with this, we are constantly sensing signs of the time of Geulah. This is the time for a Jew to direct and prepare himself for the true fulfillment of “He shall sense through his fear of Hashem,” for genuine fear of Heaven. He can then sense what he must do and how he must serve Hakadosh Boruch Hu, and truly prepare himself to receive the new path.

32:46 This is also connected to the fact that we always study Parshas Masei at this time, in the fragrant month of Menachem Av. In any case, at this time, which is [unclear] during the Three Weeks, this is a time for the joy associated with the Geulah. And during the Three Weeks, a time of descent, may Heaven have mercy, a Jew can, through the power of Torah and through his connection to Moshe Rabbeinu—“And Moshe wrote”—turn transgressions into merits, and turn them into “days of consecration” [unclear], “into gladness and joy and good festivals.” May we indeed merit that in Menachem Av, Hakadosh Boruch Hu will comfort us through Menachem; may we finally merit complete comfort, and may He “comfort Zion and the children of Jerusalem.”