Vayigash - Is Crying Over the Churban a Good Thing? - Rabbi Asher Perkesh

00:01 [unclear] when they were in Russia, during the Communist era. It was dangerous to sit and learn, to run yeshivos, because all the yeshivos and all the chadarim had been shut down. Each time they fled from place to place, hid, and learned Torah, it involved mesirus nefesh. At that time, a group of young men were sitting in hiding, learning and serving Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Once, a group of students sat down with their mashpia for a farbrengen. It was a Chabad chassidic farbrengen in honor of a chassidic Yom Tov, the yahrzeit of a chassidic leader. They were farbrenging, but they were afraid that the KGB, as they were called then—the police—would come looking for them. So one person stood outside to signal them: if he saw anything suspicious, he would give a signal, and they would know to run and hide, each in his own corner. Meanwhile, the mashpia began the farbrengen, and they sat and farbrenged for several hours. The mashpia spoke about the things one discusses at a chassidic farbrengen. He spoke about serving Hashem, about the avodah of davening, about saying Shema before going to sleep, about taking stock of one’s life, about the soul’s descent into this world, and about what we do in this world and how we need to conduct ourselves. The mashpia stirred the students to inner work, until they reached a point...

02:04 where they were so deeply drawn into the farbrengen that more and more of the students began to cry. This went on for some time, until suddenly a whistle was heard from outside. They understood that something had happened and they needed to hide at once. The moment they heard the whistle, there was an uproar; the young men got up, and each ran to wherever he could hide. Then everything fell silent. Meanwhile, the police officers came in. They found nothing, and everything was all right. After a while, they left. Once they were gone, the young men returned to continue the farbrengen. When they sat down again at the table, the mashpia said, “Look what happened here. When we sat and spoke about serving Hashem, about avodah, about how we need to daven and learn—what did it lead to? We sat and cried. That was the result: we felt the need to cry. But when the moment came and we knew there was danger, nobody cried. Everyone got up immediately and looked for a place to hide. There was no crying then; there was...

03:48 ...action.” The mashpia explained that this shows how we need to approach serving Hashem. A person thinks that if he cries, he has already done what is required of him and done teshuvah. But what we saw here tonight teaches us an approach to avodah: when a person sees that he is in a state of spiritual danger in his service of Hashem, [unclear] cry, [unclear], and that he is in this world to serve Hakadosh Boruch Hu and do teshuvah—the point is not just to cry. The point is not to say, “Oy, oy, here...” When you see that you are in danger, you don’t cry. Well, get up and look for a way to [unclear]. And it is the same in serving Hashem. The point is not just to cry, but to use that crying to find a way forward, to make a genuine commitment and take action—to do something in practice to get out of one’s inner exile and grow stronger in serving Hashem. We find this idea in Parshas Vayigash. In today’s parsha, Parshas Vayigash, there is an account of crying. There is an interesting verse in the parsha. The parsha tells what happened to the tribes when they met. After twenty-two years of not knowing what had become of Yosef, the moment arrived when Yosef revealed himself to his brothers: “I am Yosef.” And Parshas Vayigash tells how...

05:23 the meeting unfolded, how the brothers met one another, and about the great drama of that encounter between Yosef and his brothers. Then the parsha says: “And he fell upon the neck of his brother Binyamin and wept, and Binyamin wept upon his neck.” Yosef HaTzaddik fell upon his brother Binyamin’s neck and wept, and Binyamin wept upon Yosef’s neck. On this, the Gemara in Megillah says—and Rashi also brings it in the weekly parsha—what does “upon his neck” mean? It refers to the Beis Hamikdash. When Yosef HaTzaddik looked at Binyamin, he saw not only his brother Binyamin; he saw in Binyamin the Beis Hamikdash that would stand in his portion. Both Batei Mikdash, the First and the Second, in Jerusalem, stood in Binyamin’s portion. That is where the Beis Hamikdash stood. So Yosef wept over the destruction of both Batei Mikdash. The Beis Hamikdash is called a “neck,” as it says in Shir Hashirim, “Your neck is like the Tower of David,” referring to the Beis Hamikdash. That is why Yosef wept over Binyamin, and Binyamin wept over Yosef. For the Mishkan was first in Yosef’s portion—the Mishkan in Shiloh. After all, the Mishkan in Shiloh stood for three hundred and sixty-nine years, a long time, really

07:09 during the period of the Judges. The Mishkan in Shiloh stood in Yosef’s portion, and so Binyamin wept upon Yosef’s neck. Chassidus explains that this crying, each one weeping upon the other’s neck, was a way of rectifying the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash. One of the sefarim asks: Why did each one weep specifically upon the other’s neck? Why didn’t he weep upon his own? Chassidus explains that this is an expression of Ahavas Yisroel. After all, the Gemara says in Yoma and Gittin that the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash is connected with jealousy and hatred, with baseless hatred. So they wanted to demonstrate the exact opposite—love without cause: Yosef HaTzaddik wept over the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash in Binyamin’s portion, and Binyamin wept over the destruction of the Mishkan in Yosef’s portion. Incidentally, before the Beis Hamikdash could be built in Binyamin’s portion, the Mishkan in Shiloh, in Yosef’s portion, first had to be destroyed. Even so, Binyamin wept over the destruction of the Mishkan in Yosef’s portion, and Yosef wept over the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash in Binyamin’s portion. By crying, they removed the cause of the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash—the lack of Ahavas Yisroel. But here we need to understand:

08:39 First of all, what is the significance of the neck? What does “his neck” mean—that Yosef wept upon Binyamin’s neck, and Binyamin upon Yosef’s? We say that the Beis Hamikdash is called a “neck,” as it says in Shir Hashirim: “Your neck is like the Tower of David.” But why is the Beis Hamikdash actually called a “neck”? What is it about the neck that gives the Beis Hamikdash this name? The Midrash, Midrash Shir Hashirim, says that just as the neck is high on a person’s body, so the Beis Hamikdash is high in the world. But seemingly, if we are talking about height on a person’s body, the head is highest; it is higher than the neck. So why specifically the neck and not the head? Indeed, the Gemara in Zevachim says that the Beis Hamikdash was not at the very top, but a little lower. This is brought in connection with the verse in Parshas Vezos Haberachah, “And He dwells between his shoulders,” said in the blessing of Binyamin: the Beis Hamikdash is between his shoulders. The Gemara says there that the Beis Hamikdash really should have been on the head, at the highest place in the world. Nevertheless, it was not at the highest place in the world, but a little lower. There was a mountain near the Beis Hamikdash, near

10:07 the Temple Mount, called Ein Eitam, and it was twenty-two cubits higher than the Beis Hamikdash. Yes, this is explained in the Gemara in connection with the water for the mikveh. At Ein Eitam there was a mountain with a spring. Water from that spring was brought to the mikveh on the Temple Mount, in the Beis Hamikdash. The mikveh was built twenty-two cubits above the ground level of the Temple Mount. [unclear] So how should we calculate it? The mikveh of [unclear] was twenty-two cubits higher than the rest of the Temple Mount. And since the mikveh water had to come from that spring, the nature of water, as we see physically, is that when water flows down, it can rise again. Water naturally can flow down and then rise again, but only to the height from which it descended. It cannot rise any higher unless a pump or some other device is used to push it up. By its nature, water that flows down can rise again only to the same level, the same height from which it descended. So for the water to rise twenty-two cubits above the Temple Mount, the mountain beside it had to be twenty-two cubits higher. The Gemara does, in fact, explain why—

11:31 Why, then, was the Beis Hamikdash not built on the highest spot? Because its role is that of the neck. As they say of an ox: “Nothing about an ox is more beautiful than its shoulders.” That is why the Beis Hamikdash had to be specifically between the shoulders, in the area of the neck. And this is also a matter of [unclear]—what does it mean here? After all, when we speak about the human body, we know that the head is its highest part. The head contains the loftiest faculties: the brain, the intellect, the eyes, and all the highest things. Yet here we are told that the special quality lies specifically in the neck, not the head. We need to understand what is special about the neck. The explanation is this: On the one hand, the head is the highest part of a person and contains the loftiest faculties. On the other hand, the neck has a special quality of its own. Its function is to serve as an intermediary, carrying what comes from the head to the heart, and from there to all the limbs. As is known and explained in the sefarim, particularly in Chassidus, regarding the neck: Physically, the life force in the brain of the head—as the Rebbe also says in Tanya, the primary life force is in the brain of the head—flows from there to the heart and then to all the limbs. The life force passes through the neck. It is constricted specifically there and passes through the constriction of the throat, as it is called in Chassidus, through the neck to the heart,

13:11 and from there it flows to all the limbs. The same is true spiritually. The intellect is in the brain of the head, which is the king. It directs the entire body through its instructions, commands, and counsel. “The brain rules over the heart,” as the Alter Rebbe says in Tanya in the name of the Zohar. From there, its influence extends to all the limbs. This happens through the neck: through it, the influence reaches the heart, passing through the constriction of the throat. The intellect in the brain is constricted as it passes through the throat, through the neck, and descends to the heart. From the heart, its influence extends to the conduct of all the limbs, so that they follow the instructions of the head. So although the neck is lower than the head, the essential purpose within the human body is that specifically through the neck, the head is connected to all the limbs—both in providing them with life and in directing them to obey its instructions. From this we can understand the significance of the Beis Hamikdash being called a neck. The role of the Beis Hamikdash is to serve as the channel through which influence flows to the Jews and to the entire world. This is the familiar expression: “From there, light goes out to the entire world.” The Beis Hamikdash is [unclear]. The head is the Shechinah; the head is Hakadosh Boruch Hu. That is the head of everything. But enabling that influence to flow into the world was the purpose of the Beis Hamikdash. The Beis Hamikdash functions like a neck: it conveys the influence; it is the intermediary through which what comes from the head—the Shechinah, which is called the head—reaches [unclear].

15:17 For as we know, it is written: “They shall make Me a sanctuary, and I will dwell within them.” As is known, the holy Shelah cites the Midrash: “They shall make Me a sanctuary, and I will dwell within them”—it does not say “within it,” but “within them,” within each and every Jew. Through the resting of the Shechinah in the Beis Hamikdash, the Shechinah also rests within each and every Jew. Similarly, it is known that the windows of the Beis Hamikdash were “narrow within and broad without.” They were wider on the outside and narrower on the inside. “Narrow within and broad without”—this is not how things are ordinarily done. Usually, when building a house, people make the windows wider on the inside so that sunlight can enter, illuminate, and spread throughout the house. In the Beis Hamikdash it was the opposite. The windows were narrower on the inside and wider on the outside. And so the Midrash also says of those windows: “From there, light goes out to the entire world.” For the Beis Hamikdash is the source of light for the entire world. This, then, is why the Beis Hamikdash is compared specifically to a neck. What the comparison emphasizes is that the role of the Beis Hamikdash is not its holiness in and of itself. No—quite the opposite: it is to serve as an intermediary. Just as the neck is an intermediary that carries what comes from the head—the life force and the intellect in the head—down to the heart, from which they spread to all the limbs, so too the Beis Hamikdash. Its role is not for the holy presence of the Shechinah to remain detached from the world. On the contrary, its role is to bring down the influence of Hakadosh Boruch Hu, the influence of the Shechinah, so that it reaches all Jews,

16:59 the entire world, the whole world, making it a world filled with light, and thereby fulfilling the purpose of making the world a dwelling place for Him in the lower realms. We see this in the spiritual sense as well. When we speak of the spiritual Beis Hamikdash, of “They shall make Me a sanctuary, and I will dwell within them,” it is related in the name of the Baal Shem Tov that when he said those words, a small Beis Hamikdash was created in the Jewish heart of every Jew. This is the personal Beis Hamikdash within every Jew. So what is its role? Specifically the role of the neck: to bring things down, rather than remain in the head. The head is indeed the divine soul within the Jew, “an actual part of G-d above.” The essence of the soul, the head—“Li rosh,” “a head for Me,” referring to Yisroel—the Jew is indeed, in essence, an actual part of G-d above. But that is the Jew as connected to G-dliness above. The ultimate purpose of the Jewish soul is to be a neck, to bring G-dliness down. The personal Beis Hamikdash within every Jew means that a Jew must know: Your shlichus is to bring G-dliness into the world, to illuminate the world through your conduct, through Torah and mitzvos and observing Shabbos, and to bring the light to the entire world. Therefore, a Jew must see himself as a neck, as an intermediary who brings the soul’s shlichus down

18:23 to the body, to the animal soul, and to his portion of the world; to make himself and the entire world a dwelling place for Him, as the Alter Rebbe says in Tanya. With this, we can understand the weeping over the neck. When Yosef HaTzaddik looks at Binyamin, he sees the Beis Hamikdash; he sees its destruction. What is he weeping over? He is weeping over the neck. What does that mean spiritually? As for the soul—what is there to weep over? The soul in itself, the head, the soul that is called the head, the head within the soul, is indeed “an actual part of G-d above.” And of that actual part of G-d above, the Alter Rebbe says in Tanya: “Even at the time of sin, it remained faithful to Him, may He be blessed.” The soul is always whole. The soul always remains faithful to Him, may He be blessed. The essence of the soul is never harmed and never goes into exile. As has been said, a Jew’s soul never went into exile, and there is nothing to weep over there. But the neck—the soul as it has descended here below, the connecting intermediary that must guide the body, guide the animal soul, and guide its portion of the world—and of this the Alter Rebbe says in Tanya that the soul descended below in order to refine the body, the animal soul, and its portion of the world: here, destruction occurred. Here Yosef HaTzaddik sees the destruction, and over this he weeps.

19:48 Over the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash in the neck. And on the other side, Binyamin wept over Yosef’s necks. Yes, this is something to weep over: that we must recognize the ultimate purpose—to make the body, the animal soul, and our portion of the world a dwelling place for Him, may He be blessed. But what is the spiritual meaning of weeping over his necks, over the neck? The inner question is: Why must Yosef weep over Binyamin’s necks, and Binyamin over Yosef’s necks? Why did each not weep over his own destruction? After all, spiritually this concerns each individual: the destruction of one’s personal Beis Hamikdash, the neck, when one does not put the intention into practice and does not do what is needed to make the world a dwelling place for G-dliness. This brings about the destruction of one’s personal house. So one should weep over one’s own destruction. Why does Yosef weep over Binyamin’s destruction, and Binyamin over Yosef’s? Seemingly, each should feel his own destruction differently. Human nature is to feel one’s own pain; however much we have spoken about Ahavas Yisroel [unclear], when it comes to feeling pain, a person naturally feels his own personal pain far more deeply than he feels another’s. Seemingly, Yosef should have felt the destruction of his own Beis Hamikdash, and Binyamin the destruction of his. What is the meaning of Yosef weeping over the necks of

21:20 Benjamin, and Benjamin wept on Joseph’s neck? Beyond what we discussed earlier—that this is a matter of Ahavas Yisroel [unclear]—there is, seemingly, a deeper point to the weeping. When is there a place for tears? When is crying what is called for? When it concerns another Jew. When you see another Jew in an undesirable state, you do everything in your power: you must do whatever you can to influence him and bring him closer to Torah and mitzvos. When you see that he is in a state of destruction, you must try to repair it, help him, and bring him closer to Torah and mitzvos. But the weeping is for the other person. Sometimes you reach a point where you can do nothing more, and then the weeping is more an expression of deep compassion. You want to cry over the other person’s condition? Yes, you can act and help, but ultimately, the weeping is over his condition. When you see destruction in another person’s life, there is a place for tears, for crying that is more an expression of deep compassion. And perhaps the weeping itself will help bring about a repair. But when it comes to yourself, to your own destruction, crying is not enough. Crying will not bring about a repair. It will only make a person feel

22:55 relief. It is human nature: when a person is distressed and cries, what does crying do? It fixes nothing, but it brings him some relief. There is a hint of this in the verse in Tehillim, “My tears have been my bread”: tears, crying, are like bread that brings the soul a little relief. So in a person’s avodah, often, when he does teshuvah and his teshuvah brings him to tears, to the weeping of teshuvah, sometimes that very weeping calms him. He already feels better, and that itself makes him feel that he is finished with the matter. He feels relief, and that relief may cause him to remain in the same state. About this we say: when it comes to yourself, crying is not enough, because crying will not help. You have to act; you have to get to work. Crying is not enough; you have to build, you have to act, you have to do things in practice. And this is the lesson the verse tells us: Yosef Hatzaddik wept on Benjamin’s neck, and Benjamin wept on Joseph’s neck. There is a place to cry over the other person’s destruction, out of deep compassion. But over your own destruction, crying merely makes you feel relief: after all, I’ve already

24:18 cried, and I’m already satisfied that I cried, while in the meantime I keep on crying. But that is not the lesson here—to cry. As is well known, the Rebbe once said, “One action is greater than a thousand sighs.” Yes, sighs alone are not enough. “One action” means stopping the crying, stopping the sighing; you have to actually do something. You have to build your own Beis Hamikdash. This is the lesson Parshas Vayigash teaches us, a parsha of Geulah. When we study it according to Chassidus, it is the parsha of Yehudah and Yosef, and this is connected with matters of the Beis Hamikdash. After all, we have already... and these matters are explained at length in Chassidus. “And he sent Yehudah ahead of him,” which we will study in connection with the Geulah, David, King of Israel—it is connected with the kingship of David, with the reign of Moshiach. The parsha comes to tell us and teach us this wonderful lesson: we are in exile. In simple terms, you are in exile and must cry over the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash. Yes, we must cry over the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash and over exile. Then the parsha comes and says: you must cry over the other person’s destruction. As for your own destruction, your own exile, your inner exile, it is not enough just to come alive again; you must

25:34 also rebuild—to build your personal Beis Hamikdash, to create a state in which you can draw down and bring the light of the soul into the body and the animal soul, so that it shines in your portion of the world, illuminates the world, and makes it a dwelling place for Him. This is the personal Beis Hamikdash, through which we build the Beis Hamikdash for all. But the Midrash brings up something interesting: when Yaakov met Yosef, Yosef and Benjamin wept. At the meeting with Yaakov, it does not say that he wept. What happened when they met Yaakov? The Gemara says that when Yaakov Avinu met him, he did not weep. What did he do? He recited Shema. Yaakov Avinu recited Shema. In simple terms, the commentators learn from this the great spiritual stature of Yaakov Avinu: for twenty-two years he thought his son [unclear], and he mourned and cried and was [unclear]. He was in a truly bitter state; for twenty-two years he thought his son was lost. And now, after twenty-two years, he meets his Yosef, the son of his old age. Yet Yaakov [unclear] Shema. And Shema itself—did he

26:56 cry? About this they say that this was the greatness of Yaakov Avinu: at that moment, when he recited Shema, he was completely connected to G-dliness, and not even [unclear]. After all, wasn’t he with his son? What does this mean on the simple level? This is the account, the [unclear] of Yaakov. But plainly, other matters are involved here as well. The question is: what is going on here? Why did Yaakov Avinu recite Shema? Seemingly, one should cry over the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash. Why did Yaakov recite Shema? The truth is that Yaakov Avinu’s recitation of Shema is central to building the Beis Hamikdash. What is Shema about? The Gemara in Berachos says, “Anyone who recites Shema without tefillin is as though he offered a burnt offering without its meal offering, or a sacrifice without its libations.” In other words, Shema and tefillin are connected with the service of the offerings. And we understand plainly that the entire purpose of the Beis Hamikdash, as the Rambam says, is to be a place where offerings are brought. And the meaning of the offerings is: “When a person from among you brings an offering to Hashem, from the animals, from the cattle and from the sheep, you shall bring your offering.” Likkutei Torah explains that “when a person from among you brings” means that a person offers himself; “an offering to Hashem from among you”—he offers his own body and animal soul. How does he offer himself? Through “Hear, O Israel, Hashem is our G-d, Hashem is One,” and “You shall love... with all your heart”—with both your inclinations. When he contemplates

28:25 the love of Hashem. What does it mean to love Hashem “with all your heart”—with both your inclinations? It means offering up the body and animal soul, “from the animals, from the cattle and from the sheep,” as with the offerings. That is the whole point. Yaakov truly saw the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash through Yosef and through Benjamin. It was something that affected him personally. Consequently, his love encompassed everyone. But the point, really, is that we must rebuild. How do we build the Beis Hamikdash? Through reciting Shema. Through the avodah of Shema, we build the Beis Hamikdash. And there is a deeper explanation of this, which brings us to the question: what was the meaning of the Shema that Yaakov Avinu recited when he saw the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash? It is connected with what the destruction brings us to. The Gemara relates that when Rabbi Akiva’s flesh was being combed with iron combs, at that moment of mesiras nefesh, he said, “Hear, O Israel, Hashem is our G-d, Hashem is One.” The Gemara relates that his students asked him, “Our teacher, even to this point?” The students asked: does reciting Shema have to go that far? He said that all his life he had waited for the chance to “fulfill it when it comes my way”—to give his life for the sanctification of Hashem’s name. And now that the moment had come, it was good. Certainly, it was specifically Shema. That is the Gemara in Berachos. And this helps us understand that it was the same with Yaakov Avinu. It is said of Rabbi Akiva that his soul was the soul of

30:03 Yaakov Avinu. In Yaakov’s blessings to Yosef, it says, “the Mighty One of Yaakov.” The expression “the Mighty One of Yaakov” teaches us that this is Rabbi Akiva. Rabbi Akiva’s soul was the soul of Yaakov Avinu. Accordingly, Yaakov Avinu’s recitation of Shema was like Rabbi Akiva’s recitation of Shema. What was the students’ question? Their question was: how can the Beis Hamikdash be built? How can there be “One”? The students looked on and saw Rabbi Akiva’s flesh being combed with iron combs. “Is this Torah and is this its reward?” And Rabbi Akiva says, “Hear, O Israel, Hashem is our G-d, Hashem is One.” Their question was: how can you say “Hashem is One” when there is such cruelty? How can non-Jews, G-d forbid, do to Rabbi Akiva what they did to him with iron combs? Where do we see “One” here? Rabbi Akiva said: on the contrary, it is precisely in this that he sees the “One.” Rabbi Akiva had worked his whole life to reach this “One.” Even the fact that non-Jews can torture him is included in Hashem’s oneness throughout the world. And it is precisely this that reveals the depth of the soul, when it remains connected to greatness even in the deepest darkness. It is precisely here that true oneness is revealed—that a person is with Hakadosh Boruch Hu even in the deepest darkness. This is the point Yaakov Avinu revealed here. When it comes to Yosef and Benjamin, who represent the Beis Hamikdash, this is the situation: there is destruction, there is concealment, there is destruction between

31:42 Them. Yaakov Avinu comes and recites Shema. In the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash, Yaakov Avinu sees “One”: this is where the depth of the name Havayah will be revealed, where even the deepest darkness will be transformed into light, and where the darkness of exile is, in its innermost essence, a descent for the sake of an ascent. The Gemara tells us about Rabbi Akiva, too. He was the one who “laughed.” When they saw the destruction—a fox emerging from the Holy of Holies—all his colleagues, Rabban Gamliel, Rabbi Yehoshua, and Rabbi Elazar ben Azaryah, wept, but Rabbi Akiva laughed. Why did Rabbi Akiva laugh? Because in the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash, he saw the fulfillment of the prophecy, “Old men and women will yet sit in the streets of Jerusalem.” As we see from the Gemara at the end of Makkos, he saw the Geulah within the destruction; he saw the light of the Geulah within the darkness. This is alluded to in the account in today’s parsha, where Yaakov Avinu recites Shema at the time of the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash: he sees the fulfillment of “One,” which will be revealed in the place of darkness. And what will be revealed is not only that, but also the fruit that comes from it. Rabbi Akiva laughs because he is reciting Shema; he sees Hashem’s true sovereignty, which will be revealed in everything. And this is the lesson from today’s parsha: we need not be shaken because there is still darkness. We need not be afraid while we are still in exile. We need to know that the entire purpose of exile is to build the Beis Hamikdash. And when we want the Beis Hamikdash to be built, we must first take action—even one act out of a thousand—right now. We should not occupy ourselves with the destruction, but with building, with building the Beis Hamikdash, and bringing the

33:30 Shechinah, bringing the light of the Geulah into the darkness of exile. Through this, may we merit that in our days, the days of 10 Teves, which follow 5 Teves and are connected with the darkness of exile, will be transformed “into joy and gladness and joyous festivals.” And may we merit the Geulah immediately, when all the darkness of exile will become light, and “Hashem will be for you an everlasting light,” in our very days, through Moshiach Tzidkeinu, in the true and complete Geulah.