Mikeitz, Chanukah - The Avodah of the Trait of Bitachon

00:02 There was a chossid named Reb Michoel the Elder. Reb Michoel the Elder was also called Reb Michoel Bliner and Reb Michoel Nevler. He was a mashpia in Lubavitch. Before that, he had been a mashpia in the town of Nevel, a Chassidic town. He was a chossid of the Tzemach Tzedek, and later of the Rebbe Maharash as well. In the time of the Rebbe Rashab, when Tomchei Temimim was founded, he was one of the veteran mashpi’im at the Tomchei Temimim yeshiva in Lubavitch. That is why they called him Michoel the Elder. One of the well-known stories about this chossid, which the Frierdiker Rebbe tells in his sichos, took place when he was a young married man living in Nevel. Once, his daughter became very ill, rachmana litzlan. Her condition was so serious that the doctors said there appeared to be no hope by natural means. They said she had only a few hours left, and that, by natural means, nothing could be done. Rachmana litzlan, it was a terribly bitter situation. Reb Michoel was utterly broken. He went into the beis midrash in Nevel. As I said, Nevel was a Chassidic town. He came to the shul, and all the chassidim saw that Reb Michoel, the mashpia, was deeply distressed. They asked him, “What happened?” And he told them how things had unfolded,

01:45 what was going on. The chassidim said, “What do you mean? You’re a chossid—go to the Rebbe! Where is your faith? Go to the Rebbe and ask for a brachah.” Reb Michoel said, “What do you mean, go to the Rebbe?” In those days, the journey from Nevel to Lubavitch, where the Tzemach Tzedek was then, took days or even weeks. It was quite a journey. And the doctors had said it was now a matter of hours. What good would the trip to the Rebbe do? The chassidim spoke to him firmly: “What do you mean? How can you even ask such a question? A chossid has faith; he has trust. You must go to the Rebbe, and the Rebbe will find a way.” So Reb Michoel listened to his friends and prepared to leave. When he left the shul, he set out for Lubavitch at once. The trip by horse and wagon took time, and days or weeks passed before he reached Lubavitch, however long the journey took. Finally, he went in for yechidus with the Tzemach Tzedek and stood before him, face to face, beside the table. He was so broken inside and did not know what to think. The doctors had said that, by natural means, there was no longer any hope. Who knew what was happening at home? Who knew what was going on there? Out of sheer

03:13 heartbreak and a sense of loss, he could not even open his mouth. He just burst into terrible tears. The Tzemach Tzedek waited until he calmed down and told him what had happened. When the Tzemach Tzedek heard the details, he gave his well-known ruling, which chassidim regard to this day as one of the foundational rulings of Chabad Chassidus. The Tzemach Tzedek told him, “Tracht gut vet zayn gut”—think good, and it will be good. What does that mean? Think about the good, think positive thoughts, think good—and the Rebbe says that things can be good in actual fact, too. Reb Michoel was so distraught that, when he heard this, he said, “Rebbe, I don’t have the strength to think good. Let the Rebbe think good.” And the Tzemach Tzedek told him, “Yes, but it is important that the chossid think good—that you think good.” In other words, the recipient, the chossid who wants the brachah, must also have the trust expressed by “tracht gut.” That brings about the good. As I said, this story became a central, foundational story in the conduct and way of Chabad Chassidus, and our Rebbeim would tell it from time to time. In particular, I myself certainly heard the story several times from the Rebbe, in different situations: both when it concerned material matters and when it

04:50 concerned spiritual matters, the ruling of “tracht gut vet zayn gut” stood with full force for the Rebbe. I remember two occasions, two moments connected with “tracht gut vet zayn gut,” when I was there as they happened. One was in 5726, on Shabbos Parshas Vayishlach. I had the privilege of being with the Rebbe at a farbrengen. It was Shabbos Vayishlach—I think it was 17 Kislev—yes, Shabbos Parshas Vayishlach. The Rebbe delivered a maamar then, “[unclear].” It is a well-known maamar, one of the maamarim the Frierdiker Rebbe delivered to the chassidim on Shabbos Vayishlach. In 5726, the Rebbe repeated the maamar and offered explanations of it: “[unclear] the purpose of wisdom is teshuvah and good deeds.” The Rebbe then spoke about spiritual work, about teshuvah. He said that, according to Chassidus, teshuvah must be approached through self-examination and bitterness. The Frierdiker Rebbe explains at length in that maamar the bitterness, teshuvah, and fear of Heaven that must be part of teshuvah. But the Rebbe said then that, in our generation, after all we have been through—“trouble shall not arise a second time”—after all the terrible events our generation has experienced, rachmana litzlan, “trouble shall not arise a second time,” rachmana litzlan, our generation is therefore

06:31 a generation that no longer needs the work of bitterness. We no longer need the work of breaking the heart. Even teshuvah, which according to Chassidus must be done in the manner of “think good, and it will be good”: one must make a firm decision, feel complete regret for the past, and make a firm commitment for the future, with absolute trust. That must be the main thing in teshuvah—absolute trust. In keeping with the Tzemach Tzedek’s ruling, “think good, and it will be good,” we must be completely confident that Hakadosh Boruch Hu has abundant power to save. This itself is the way to accomplish the work of teshuvah. And from the outset, the teshuvah should be teshuvah ila’ah, higher teshuvah, whose focus is Torah study, doing and observing, with great joy. Likewise, davening should be done with joy and a glad heart. That was the point amid all the lengthy discussion—the point I had the privilege of hearing from the Rebbe about trust in spiritual matters. And the Rebbe said then that this is certainly true, all the more so, in material matters. That story was about material matters, if I may tell it. There must be the work of trust, of “think good, and it will be good.” The work is therefore done with joy, and that itself brings about good in actual fact. Then there was a second occasion, later, in 5751. I was in Australia then, on shlichus. The student shluchim are young men whom the Rebbe sends to

08:01 teach in various yeshivos and strengthen them. We went to Melbourne, Australia, for two years. I remember that it was a difficult period. Several things were going on in Melbourne, Australia. At that time, a number of undesirable things happened. There were serious difficulties in material matters—in livelihood, health, and so on. The head shliach there, the rabbi, was the well-known chossid Rabbi Itche Dovid Groner, brother of the Rebbe’s secretary, Rabbi Leibel Groner, a”h. Rabbi Itche Dovid Groner was the rabbi there, the head shliach and the community rabbi, and he was under great strain because of the situation that had developed. I remember it was, I think, if I recall correctly, in the days leading up to Shavuos. He wrote the Rebbe a letter, a very strongly worded, lengthy letter about the situation, about what was happening—the material difficulties and all the troubles that had begun there, all these undesirable things. He wrote a deeply worried, pained letter about the situation. I remember that the rabbi wrote the letter, and a response came from the Rebbe, which he read aloud to the community. If I remember correctly, it was on the eve of Shavuos. He read it aloud to the community and said that the response had arrived shortly after he wrote the letter. And what did the response say? I am not quoting the exact words, but the message was that when he resolved to follow the ruling of our Rebbeim, “think good, and it will be good,” that is how things would be in actual fact. He should resolve to follow the ruling of our Rebbeim, “think good, and it will be good,” and indeed that is how things would be in actual fact. I remember the great joy he felt then—Rabbi Groner—and the joy throughout the community. It was a very joyous Shavuos night, with many farbrengens and much rejoicing. He gave everyone a great deal of encouragement amid all that was happening, and that was the happy ending of

10:25 There were several ways in which the situation began to change for the better. And this brings us to the quality of bitachon—trust in Hashem. In fact, in the weekly parsha, Parshas Mikeitz, you can feel the theme of bitachon in the parsha itself. As is well known, the verse “And it came to pass at the end of two full years” continues the verses at the end of Parshas Vayeishev. At the end of Parshas Vayeishev, the Torah says: “The chief cupbearer did not remember Yosef, and he forgot him.” The story was that Yosef Hatzaddik was in prison; he had been there for ten years. After those ten years came the episode of the chief cupbearer and the chief baker. They had dreams, and Yosef interpreted the chief cupbearer’s dream favorably: in three days Pharaoh would lift up his head “and restore you to your position.” Yosef then asked him to help him. When he returned to his position, Yosef asked him to remember him and ask Pharaoh to take him out of prison. And the Torah says at the end of Parshas Vayeishev: “The chief cupbearer did not remember Yosef, and he forgot him.” The chief cupbearer did not remember—he did not remember—“and he forgot him.” That “and he forgot him” was deliberate, as the commentators explain. Rashi says at the end of the parsha, and the Midrash explains at length, that because Yosef relied on the chief cupbearer, “he forgot him,” and Yosef remained there another two years. Yosef Hatzaddik had to remain in prison, for “it came to pass at the end of two full years”—only two years later did the story continue, with Pharaoh’s dream. Then came “the chief cupbearer remembered Yosef,” followed by Yosef Hatzaddik’s redemption and freedom, as related in Parshas Mikeitz. About this the Midrash says: “Fortunate is the man who places his trust in Hashem”—this refers to Yosef.

12:44 “And does not turn to the arrogant and those who stray after falsehood.” “The arrogant” refers to the Egyptians, who are called Rahav. The Midrash says that “Fortunate is the man” refers to Yosef, and of him it says, “who places his trust in Hashem.” Yosef Hatzaddik trusted in Hakadosh Boruch Hu. “And does not turn to the arrogant and those who stray after falsehood” means not relying on the arrogant ones, the ministers of Egypt. And because he nevertheless relied on the ministers of Egypt, the result was “he did not remember”; Yosef’s release was delayed another two years. In other words, Yosef should have left Egypt earlier. But because he relied on them, a situation arose in which he had to remain another two years, and only afterward was it “And it came to pass at the end of two full years.” Then success did indeed come, and the chief cupbearer “remembered,” as related later in the parsha. The parsha reveals the greatness of the quality of bitachon. But how far does the obligation of bitachon extend? Because there is a well-known question people ask about Yosef: surely he did the right thing. The Torah says, “Hashem your G-d will bless you in all that you do.” He has to take action even while relying on Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Even when he knows the blessing comes from Hakadosh Boruch Hu, he must act through natural means, as explained at length in Shaar Habitachon.

14:15 And in several other places. Even when a person must have complete trust in Hakadosh Boruch Hu, he cannot sit with his arms folded. He has to act through natural means, as we find in the laws of medicine. The Torah says, “He shall surely heal”—from here we learn that a physician has been given permission to heal. Even though a person must trust in Hakadosh Boruch Hu, “Who heals all flesh and performs wonders,” he must nevertheless pursue medical treatment while trusting in Hakadosh Boruch Hu. We see the same with Yaakov Avinu: even though he relied on Hakadosh Boruch Hu, the Torah relates, “I have become small through all the kindnesses,” “Yaakov was afraid and distressed,” and “he divided” his camp. He took action through natural means and sent gifts to Eisav to appease him. So there is the well-known question asked by the Rishonim—Rabbeinu Bachya, [unclear] in Orchos Habitachon, and in several other places. The great Rishonim ask: what is the issue with what Yosef did? Why is it considered a sin—and such a sin that, because he asked the chief cupbearer to help him, “he forgot him,” and Yosef was punished by having to remain another two years...

15:34 After that, he spent another two full years in prison. He remained there, amid hardship and suffering. In other words, why did he receive an additional punishment? What, seemingly, was the reason? And the question really is this: when you look closely at the wording of the Midrash, it does not say that Yosef failed to trust in Hakadosh Boruch Hu. On the contrary, the Midrash says, “Fortunate is the man who trusts in Hashem”—this refers to Yosef. In other words, Yosef did trust in Hakadosh Boruch Hu. So what happened? Alongside his trust in Hakadosh Boruch Hu, he asked the chief cupbearer to help him. And as the commentators, including Rabbeinu Bachya, explain, Yosef Hatzaddik, while trusting that everything comes from Hakadosh Boruch Hu, thought that the very fact that Hakadosh Boruch Hu had brought about this whole episode with the chief cupbearer and the chief baker, and the dream that Yosef had to interpret, was itself a sign that Hakadosh Boruch Hu, Who brings about all causes, had arranged things this way so that salvation would come through it. Yosef Hatzaddik understood that, since Hakadosh Boruch Hu had arranged for this to be the vessel, the means through which the blessing from Above would bring his salvation, he should use that vessel. So he asked the chief cupbearer to help him. Why, then, is this counted against him as a sin? There are two explanations. One explanation—

16:58 On the level of pshat, as the Rebbe once explained at a farbrengen according to the plain meaning of the verse; and then there is the approach of Chassidus, a Chassidic interpretation of the deeper meaning. The explanation on the level of pshat is that, as Rashi’s precise wording makes clear, we need to understand what he says about Yosef: “He placed his trust in the chief cupbearer.” The wording is “placed his trust,” not merely that he asked the chief cupbearer to help him. With those words, “placed his trust,” Rashi is addressing precisely this question. The fact that a Jew makes use of a vehicle, a vessel, a means within the natural order, is indeed right: a Jew trusts completely in Hakadosh Boruch Hu and knows that Hakadosh Boruch Hu directs all these matters. Nevertheless, there must be a vehicle within the natural order, and throughout, he knows that the vehicle is not the main thing; Hakadosh Boruch Hu is. It is simply that Hakadosh Boruch Hu wanted the blessing to come through that means. So he does not make that means the main thing; Hakadosh Boruch Hu is the main thing. Yet with Yosef there was an error, on a very subtle level: for someone of Yosef’s stature, this was a case of “placing his trust” in the chief cupbearer and relying on him. In other words, he gave, so to speak, too much weight to the possibility that this would be the only way—

18:19 His salvation would actually come. And “placing his trust” was indeed why his salvation was delayed for a further period. The Rebbe explained beautifully that this helps us understand why it was specifically “two full years”: on the level of pshat, why was the matter delayed for so long, and why specifically “two full years”? From the plain meaning of the verse, it is not clear what happened here. The Rebbe gave a wonderful explanation: Yosef Hatzaddik heard the number three in the chief cupbearer’s dream. The chief cupbearer said that he had seen a vine with three shoots, three branches. Yosef understood from this that the number three was connected to the chief cupbearer and to his salvation. So he said “three days”—that salvation would come in three days. The number three indicates that salvation is connected with three: it could mean three days, three weeks, three months, or three years. Since Yosef thought that the whole episode had happened so that relief would come—Rashi himself says earlier, that very same Rashi says, “so that relief would come to the tzaddik through him.” In other words, Yosef understood that

19:39 Relief would come to him through the chief cupbearer. In other words, Hakadosh Boruch Hu had sent the chief cupbearer to him to bring about his salvation. And since his salvation should come as soon as possible—this was Yosef’s bitachon, that salvation was about to come immediately, as soon as possible—but it had to be connected with the number three, he thought: three means three days. Yes, instead of thinking of three years or three months, he thought of three days. That is the shortest possible period: salvation would come within three days. So he said “three days” and made his request of him. [unclear] Within those three days, salvation would come. And that is indeed how it should have happened. Yosef Hatzaddik was meant to be in prison for ten years, and there, while he was in the pit, he was meant to leave after three days. But what happened? Because there was an admixture here, there was too much [unclear], and he leaned too heavily on the chief cupbearer, this was considered a sin for Yosef [unclear], and so he had to remain another two years. After those two years, Hakadosh Boruch Hu [unclear]. What were those two years? There were the three days until the chief cupbearer became [unclear], and then another two full years. That is what the Torah says: “And it came to pass at the end of two full years”—in other words, there had passed

21:06 Two full years. Two years, together with the three days that came in place of the previous three days, when the salvation should have come. Two years and three days—and that was enough for it to count as three, yes, as three, as though three years had passed. Then the salvation came, as related later in Parshas Mikeitz, when he became viceroy, followed by the rest of the parsha describing the greatness Yosef attained. That is the explanation according to the plain meaning of the Torah. Chassidus comes and explains these matters more deeply, on an inner level. As explained in the maamarim of the Alter Rebbe, of the Mitteler Rebbe in Toras Chaim, and of our later Rebbeim, z"l, who discuss this: given Yosef the Tzaddik’s spiritual level, a higher degree of trust was required of him—not the ordinary kind of trust. Generally, a Jew is expected to trust in Hashem and, together with that trust, to act through natural means, to use the garments of nature and do what needs to be done according to the natural order. Throughout it all, he must trust in Hashem. That is the ordinary path of a Jew, and that was

22:27 the level of Yaakov Avinu: alongside his trust in Hashem, he acted through means that followed the natural order. And that is indeed how it should be; there is no shortcoming in it. But Yosef’s level, as explained in the maamarim that discuss this—one of them, [unclear], is a maamar on “The chief cupbearer did not remember Yosef, and he forgot him,” a maamar of the Frierdiker Rebbe, [unclear], which discusses this at length; there is also a maamar of the Mitteler Rebbe in Toras Chaim, among others—there he explains “The chief cupbearer did not remember Yosef, and he forgot him,” and the reason for it: in this respect, Yosef the Tzaddik was on a higher level not only than the tribes, but even than the Patriarchs. Why? Because both the tribes and the Patriarchs served Hashem in a way that kept them apart from this world. They were shepherds. We find that the tribes were shepherds, and we also find that the Patriarchs were shepherds. Incidentally, there is a distinction between them, which Chassidus discusses, but in practice, both the service of the Patriarchs and that of the tribes took the form of shepherding. What does it mean to be a shepherd? You are out in the fields, far from the world, far from physical concerns, far from material concerns. You are deep in the fields with the flock, where you can be apart from this world, apart from all these matters,

23:51 from women, from all material concerns, and there you can be alone with Hakadosh Boruch Hu. But with Yosef the Tzaddik, we saw something entirely different. Yosef the Tzaddik was the only one who went into Egypt, and his role there was, as the expression goes, “checking pockets and keeping accounts.” He was Potiphar’s accountant and had to deal with all the affairs and accounts of the Egyptian’s household, the official’s household. Later, when he became viceroy, he was even more involved in all the affairs of the kingdom, all the affairs of the kingdom, and he was “the provider of grain for all the land.” And precisely there, in the lowest place in this physical world, the most materialistic place, in Egypt, which at the time was steeped in immorality and so on—precisely there he remained attached to Hashem and was a vehicle for G-dliness. This was because of his great spiritual stature. As explained in Chassidus, Yosef the Tzaddik was a vehicle for G-dliness. He was on such a high level of attachment to G-dliness that even when he was involved in the natural order—in its most concrete form, even in managing all the districts—he remained attached to Hashem. That is why it says that his brothers did not recognize him: “Yosef recognized his brothers, but they did not recognize him.” Chassidus explains that this means they could not grasp the greatness of his spiritual stature. They could not understand how a person could be within the world and still be connected to G-dliness. They did not have that

25:18 combination of the two. But this was Yosef the Tzaddik’s great strength; this was his level. Precisely because Yosef the Tzaddik was a complete tzaddik, his trust was utterly complete. It was not merely that he trusted in Hashem—“Fortunate is the man who trusts in Hashem”; that is Yosef. Of course he had trust. That is obvious, and there is nothing novel about it. Rather, Yosef the Tzaddik was required to reach a higher level: not to make any garment, not even one that followed the natural order, as he did with the chief cupbearer. Since he made a request of the chief cupbearer, at Yosef the Tzaddik’s level this was considered a descent. That is why he had to remain there for two full years. During those two years, Yosef the Tzaddik corrected what, at his level, was considered a sin. He perfected his capacity for trust, so that it would be absolute trust: he trusted completely in Hakadosh Boruch Hu, to the point that he did not make even a garment, but placed himself entirely in Hakadosh Boruch Hu’s hands, in absolute completeness. That is the level of trust when we are speaking of Yosef the Tzaddik. In this connection, they cite a teaching of the Baal Shem Tov that addresses this matter. The Baal Shem Tov says that this was Yosef the Tzaddik’s level, a lofty level unique to him. And this, as the Baal Shem Tov explains, is the meaning of the verse: “Cast your burden upon Hashem,

26:43 and He will sustain you.” Regarding “Cast your burden upon Hashem,” the Gemara in Rosh Hashanah says that they did not know what “your burden” meant until they heard it from a certain traveler, a shepherd, who said that it meant a bundle. So “Cast your burden upon Hashem” means to cast the bundle upon Hakadosh Boruch Hu. “And He will sustain you”—as the Baal Shem Tov explained, Hakadosh Boruch Hu will provide the vessels. This explanation of the Baal Shem Tov follows from what we said earlier: ordinarily, in serving Hashem, a person must have trust, but at the same time he must make the vessel—“in all that you do”—making a garment according to the natural order, acting and doing what he can through natural means, while trusting in Hakadosh Boruch Hu. But with great tzaddikim of lofty stature—and this was Yosef’s level, for he truly was a complete tzaddik—it says, “Cast your burden upon Hashem”: he casts the bundle upon Hakadosh Boruch Hu, “and He will sustain you.” Not only does the blessing come from Above; the vessel for the blessing does too. “He will sustain you” means that even the vessels are given from Above. Everything is given from Above. That was Yosef’s level of trust. This is what the Torah tells us.

28:14 We see in this story how Yosef had to go through this in order to attain that level of trust. This accords with the Baal Shem Tov’s explanation of the verse, “Blessed is the man who trusts in Hashem, and Hashem will be his trust.” There seems to be a repetition here; apparently, it says the same thing twice. The Baal Shem Tov explains: “Blessed is the man who trusts in Hashem” refers to the trust in Hashem we spoke about in the ordinary sense: he trusts only in Hakadosh Boruch Hu. But the conclusion, “and Hashem will be his trust,” tells us that even the thing he relies on—the vessel—comes from Hakadosh Boruch Hu. It is not only that he trusts in Hakadosh Boruch Hu for the blessing to come from Above. Even the thing he relies on—the vessel he uses for the blessing to come—does not come from him, but from Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Both the light and the blessing come from Hakadosh Boruch Hu, and the vessel comes from Hakadosh Boruch Hu too. He places himself entirely in Hashem’s hands and knows that everything comes from Hakadosh Boruch Hu. This is the true meaning of the attribute of trust. Accordingly, there is added depth to the explanation of “Tracht gut, vet zayn gut”—“Think good, and it will be good.” The Rebbe explained this in one of the sichos in which he discussed the subject; it is a wonderful explanation. Regarding the Tzemach Tzedek’s words, “Tracht gut, vet zayn gut,” there is the well-known question that everyone asks: How can we say that if one thinks good, things will be good—that a person must be certain things will be good—when it is possible, G-d forbid, that [unclear]? After all, it is possible, as we see

29:42 in the case of Yaakov Avinu, “Yaakov was very afraid and distressed”—perhaps sin would bring about a change. It is possible that, for various reasons, something is due to him, G-d forbid, because he is not worthy. That is the question about trust, which in its simple meaning means being certain that things will be good in a way that is visibly and tangibly good. How can he be certain? Here lies the difference between faith and trust. As explained in Chassidus, faith means believing that everything comes from Above: both what is good and what is better; both what appears good and what does not appear good, G-d forbid, though inwardly it is good—a concealed good, a hidden good, as explained in Tanya. That is faith, and that is one thing. But here we say that he also has the attribute of trust. Trust means that he must be completely certain that things will be good in a visible and tangible way. And the question immediately arises: Where does this certainty come from? The answer is that this is the avodah itself. It is not a blessing; it is the avodah. When the Tzemach Tzedek said this to that [unclear], he was giving him a directive in avodah. He told him that by having trust—that is what the attribute of trust is, that is the avodah—the avodah itself is the path and the vessel that brings about the visibly and tangibly good that will indeed be sent to him from Above. Through this

31:09 What he has, when he can find no solution—not materially, not spiritually, not within the natural order, and not through [unclear]. Whether he deserves it or does not deserve it. And nevertheless, he is certain, and entrusts himself with complete trust to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, certain that Hakadosh Boruch Hu will treat him with goodness that is visible and revealed. The very fact that he entrusts and gives himself over to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, confident that Hakadosh Boruch Hu will certainly treat him with visible and revealed goodness—that positive thought itself is the avodah, and it is the vessel. And that vessel brings down the flow from Above, so that there will be good, so that things will actually be good in practice, with goodness that is visible and revealed. This is along the lines of the well-known saying of the Alter Rebbe to the Tzemach Tzedek near the end of the Alter Rebbe’s life. What did he say to him? The story is well known: the Alter Rebbe taught the Tzemach Tzedek his final teaching before his passing, on “Hashem is your shadow,” [unclear] from Above: Hakadosh Boruch Hu acts in accordance with what happens below. When a person below is steeped in bitterness, when his conduct below is marked by sadness and constriction, this causes, rachmana litzlan, constriction and harsh judgments Above. And when he stands below in a spirit of joy and trust, that itself arouses a corresponding response Above, a measure-for-measure response of joy and trust, so that he is treated from Above with revealed kindness.

32:31 With goodness that is visible and revealed. So it says in [unclear] on Parshas Tetzaveh, as is known. And this is the point of the Torah’s account of Yosef Hatzaddik. An ordinary Jew might think that this is a lofty level belonging only to Yosef. And it is also written, apparently, in a number of [unclear] that this was a lofty level attained by Yosef. That is why the Rebbe spoke about how, in our generation, when we come with the strength of our Rebbeim—as he asked concerning our generation—and with the special strength of Yosef, [unclear], then at this time, in our generation, a generation that has been through all these things, rachmana litzlan, and so many troubles, unfortunately—and on the other hand, a generation already standing on the threshold of the true and complete Geulah, as stated in a number of sichos—our generation receives Yosef Hatzaddik’s path of avodah. The path of avodah for our generation is Yosef’s path, for Yosef [unclear]. It seems that the entire parsha was given to teach all Jews, including in the time of exile, to learn from Yosef Hatzaddik’s strength: he was not stopped and did not fall in any way—not because of non-Jews, not because of goyishkeit, not because of the ways of nature, and not because of worldly matters. Rather, he knew that everything is directed by Hakadosh Boruch Hu, that He directs things with visible and revealed goodness, and he thought positively. When a Jew

33:54 actually thinks positively—that is, he entrusts himself to Hakadosh Boruch Hu and thinks that things will be good, that they must actually be good in practice—he stands in a spirit of joy and trust in Hashem. And as the Rebbe explains the word bitachon, trust, [unclear]: bitachon is related to “betoch,” “within,” which also conveys a sense of closeness. He holds fast to G-dliness, remains attached to it, and is devoted to Hakadosh Boruch Hu with love, joy, and gladness of heart. And the positive thought itself brings visible and revealed goodness. This is also connected to the time we are in now, Chanukah, because Chanukah is about something similar. This is one of the explanations given for the conduct of the Chashmonaim and what they were thinking. After all, the question is asked: How did the Chashmonaim go to war against the Greeks? A miracle had to happen, and it did: “the mighty into the hands of the weak, the many into the hands of the few, and the impure into the hands of the pure,” as we say in Al Hanissim. But how did they enter such a war in the first place? True, there is an obligation of mesirus nefesh, not to give in when it comes to, to, to [unclear], the three cardinal transgressions. In a time of religious persecution, one must give one’s life even over a shoelace, even over simple matters. But to go out and fight an actual war? You know that by the laws of nature you are few, and they are

35:18 many. To throw yourself into a war—how do you do such a thing? What is the point of this conduct? As explained, one explanation is that the Chashmonaim experienced a revelation of mesirus nefesh, a revelation of the yechidah. At that moment, they had such a conviction, a sense that “from the truth of His existence, all that exists came into being,” and that nothing exists besides Hakadosh Boruch Hu. And since they had such a revelation and such strength, it was clear to them that nature could not [unclear]. When they saw outward opposition to G-dliness, as they felt in the conduct of the Greeks at that time, it was clear to them that things could not remain that way. This itself led them to throw themselves into the thick of battle, beyond the natural order, and brought about the miraculous victory of Chanukah, beyond the natural order. And this is what the Shelah Hakadosh writes: we always read Parshas Mikeitz during Chanukah. For just as Yosef Hatzaddik’s avodah involved actual mesirus nefesh for the sanctification of Hashem’s name, so too the Chashmonaim threw themselves into mesirus nefesh for the sanctification of Hashem’s name. And this is [unclear] in the avodah of the attribute of bitachon: to be

36:41 devoted to Hakadosh Boruch Hu with complete trust. Through this strength, Yosef Hatzaddik became second to the king and the provider of grain, and changed Egypt so that things would be easier. There is a saying in Chassidus that Yosef did not create the exile—on the contrary. He made it possible for there to be an exile; he made the exile easier, so that Jews could go through it with strength and with the pride of Yaakov. This was true of the Chashmonaim in their time, and likewise in those days and at this time: every Jew, in the final moments of exile, stands with full strength and with the pride of Yaakov. And in the spirit of Yosef Hatzaddik, a Jew is the provider of grain throughout the land; a Jew illuminates the world, changes the world, and removes the exile below. Yes, may [unclear] the light of Chanukah shine [unclear]. May the Chanukah candle shine, for “these lights will never cease”; may the light of Chanukah shine within the darkness of exile and bring us, speedily in our days, to the true and complete Geulah through Moshiach Tzidkeinu, immediately, right now.