Leben Chassidus – Rabbi Asher Farkash · Episode 66 · 13 Adar 5783 · 32:06
Parshas Ki Sisa - A Coin of Fire
Episode description
*Baal Shem Tov on the Torah, Parshas Tisa, *Likkutei Sichos, Volume 3, Ki Sisa, Volume 26, Ki Sisa, and more
Machine translation into English of the automatic Hebrew transcript.
00:00 There was a chossid named Reb Nechemia of Dubrovna. Reb Nechemia of Dubrovna was among the early chassidim of the Alter Rebbe, the Mitteler Rebbe, and the Tzemach Tzedek. He was also one of the great rabbis, a great Torah scholar and an extraordinary genius, both in the revealed teachings of Torah and in Chassidus. People turned to him with questions of halachah. In those days, the Tzemach Tzedek had a charitable emissary whom they called “Feter Yosel,” Uncle Yosel. His name was Reb Yosef, and he was a relative of the Tzemach Tzedek. He was a shadar, an emissary of the Merciful One, and he would travel between towns collecting charity for our Rebbeim, and particularly for the Tzemach Tzedek. He was a holy man, a spiritual person. There are several stories about him. One story tells how Feter Yosel would travel between the towns collecting charity. Then, every few weeks or months, he would come to Lubavitch, where the Tzemach Tzedek lived, and bring the whole box, a charity box containing all the coins he had collected. In other words, he would bring the entire charity box, and the Tzemach Tzedek would divide the coins into separate groups. He would put a pile of
01:52 several coins on the table, then another pile of several coins, and another. Feter Yosel, who was responsible for this, noticed that whenever the charity box reached the Tzemach Tzedek, the first thing he did was take out a few coins and set them aside. Then he would take out more coins, group them together, and arrange them that way. He found it very interesting to see how precise the Tzemach Tzedek’s sorting was. Either the Rebbe knew where the coins had come from, or there was something about the amounts that determined how he divided them among different charitable purposes. Once, while he was with the Rebbe, he noticed that the first coins the Rebbe took out of the box—the bag—added up to the amount Reb Nechemia of Dubrovna had given. But that still did not prove they were the very same coins. They were Russian coins, after all, and the amounts were more or less alike. Perhaps it was merely the same number of coins that Reb Nechemia had given. He wanted to test it, so the next time he went to collect the money and received the coins from Reb Nechemia of Dubrovna, he scattered them separately and made a mark for himself. He put one coin on one side
03:38 of the box, another somewhere else, and scattered the rest in different places, marking them in some way so he would know which coins had come from Reb Nechemia of Dubrovna. The next time he returned to the Tzemach Tzedek with the entire container, the whole bag of charity money, he noticed that the Tzemach Tzedek was searching through it. He rummaged through the box, which was full of coins, and pulled out one coin, then another. And indeed, as Feter Yosel saw, the Tzemach Tzedek had taken precisely those coins—the very coins Reb Nechemia of Dubrovna had given. From this he understood that the Rebbe knew exactly who had given each coin, and that he divided them into separate piles because even these coins had a particular significance. He was beside himself with amazement at the ruach hakodesh: How did the Rebbe know which coins they were? They all looked the same. How could the Rebbe see that a coin had come from Reb Nechemia of Dubrovna? Filled with wonder, he could not hold back and exclaimed, “Ah, what ruach hakodesh!” The Tzemach Tzedek said it was not ruach hakodesh. He said he had no idea that these were Reb
05:14 Nechemia’s coins. What was it, then? When a Jew gives charity, he gives it with intention. He gives it with vitality. And that vitality and intention—the feeling, pleasure, and emotion he has as he gives charity—all enter the coin. So when he separates the coins and gathers them into piles, placing them in separate groups [unclear], he looks at a coin and can see that it has a special vitality, showing that it was given with special vitality, special joy, and special intention. Yes, the coins he takes out are the ones in which he sees even a particular pleasure, a special vitality within the coin. Those he sets aside. Well, of course, that itself takes ruach hakodesh, but that is the story chassidim tell. In other words, it is the same act of giving charity, the same coins, but when a Jew gives them with special vitality, the coin becomes a living coin. It has a different kind of vitality, and that remains in the coin itself—even a sense of freedom, refinement, a special vitality. The Tzemach Tzedek perceived this, and on that basis separated it from the others and determined how each coin should be used and for what purpose. Which today [unclear].
06:50 Parshas Ki Sisa. In Parshas Ki Sisa we read about the half-shekel: “When you take a census of the Children of Israel according to their numbers, each man shall give an atonement for his soul,” and later in the parsha it speaks about the half-shekel. By Divine Providence, we read about the half-shekel specifically during the week of Purim. And in general, there are several other things connecting the half-shekel with Purim. First, there is Parshas Shekalim, which we read every year on the Shabbos before the month of Adar. And there is the well-known Mishnah: “On the first of Adar, announcements are made concerning the shekalim.” In other words, Adar is a month particularly associated with giving the half-shekel. There is even a custom—which is a Torah practice of the Jewish people and is cited in halachah—that on the eve of Purim, on the Fast of Esther, we give a half-shekel to this day, in remembrance of the mitzvah of the half-shekel when the Beis Hamikdash stood. And by Divine Providence, this year Purim falls in the week of Parshas Ki Sisa, when we read about the half-shekel. What is the connection, beyond all of these points? The simple reason we read Parshas Shekalim at this time, and that “on the first of Adar, announcements are made concerning the shekalim,” is that this prepares for the month of Nissan. For on Rosh Chodesh Nissan a new year begins with regard to the offerings. The point is that—
08:29 each year, the offerings of one year cannot be mixed with those of another. Therefore, every year people must bring the half-shekel, which is used to purchase the communal offerings, so that all the offerings to be brought—the daily offerings and the additional offerings—from Rosh Chodesh Nissan onward will come from the new contribution, from the half-shekels brought that month. That is the simple reason we read about the half-shekel in this month and give the half-shekel in this month: it is preparation for Nissan. But the Gemara in Tractate Megillah, and Tosafos there, citing the Midrash, say there is another special point connecting the half-shekel with Purim. When Haman came and sought to decree the bitter decree “to destroy, kill, and annihilate all the Jews, young and old, children and women, on a single day,” the Megillah tells us that Haman offered Achashverosh ten thousand talents of silver. He wanted to give King Achashverosh a gift of ten thousand talents of silver and thereby persuade him to agree to the decree. About this, the Midrash says, “Their shekalim preceded his shekalim.” In other words, the Jews preceded him by fulfilling the mitzvah of the half-shekel—fulfilling it the first time in that manner, and together
10:04 with the mitzvah of the half-shekel in every subsequent year. Through the Jews’ fulfillment of the mitzvah of the half-shekel, “their shekalim preceded his shekalim.” The mitzvah of the half-shekel preceded the ten thousand talents of silver that Haman wanted to bring Achashverosh in order to decree against the Jews. And as Tosafos say, there is a connection in the calculation as well: he specified ten thousand talents of silver because, according to the calculation Tosafos give, that number is connected to the number of half-shekels the Jews brought. The commentators offer a number of explanations of how the ten thousand talents of silver are calculated in relation to the Jews’ mitzvah of the half-shekel. But in any case, the wording is “their shekalim preceded his shekalim”: the half-shekel came first. And of course, this does not mean only that it came first in time—that the mitzvah of the half-shekel actually took place before Haman’s shekalim. “Preceded” also means higher in stature. The half-shekel the Jews brought—that is the secret of the half-shekel, that it takes precedence in stature. That is the secret of the half-shekel: it wipes away all of Haman’s claims, all his accusations and all his confusion, and brings about the annulment of Haman’s decree. So the question we need to understand is: What is the connection between these two things?
11:35 What is so special about the mitzvah of the half-shekel that it is considered so important—that “their shekels preceded his shekels,” in the merit of the half-shekel the Jews brought? At first glance, the half-shekel is a small, simple mitzvah involving a small sum—only half a shekel. The Mishkan required many donations, substantial donations of silver, gold, copper, blue and purple wool, and so on—all those valuable things. By contrast, the mitzvah of the half-shekel involved bringing just a small coin, half a shekel, to the Mishkan. So why was it specifically the mitzvah in which the Jews brought no more than half a shekel that “preceded his shekels” and nullified the decree, countering the ten thousand talents of silver Haman offered? What is the connection between the mitzvah of the half-shekel and the Purim story? Especially when we read about it in the weekly parsha: what is the inner, special connection specifically to the half-shekel? To understand this, we first need to look at the well-known teaching of our Sages. The Gemara says that when Hakadosh Boruch Hu gave the Jews the mitzvah of the half-shekel, Moshe Rabbeinu asked, “With what will the stature of the Jewish people be raised?” Hakadosh Boruch Hu showed him that when the Jews give an atonement for their souls, the half-shekel is an atonement for their souls.
13:23 Moshe Rabbeinu was astonished. Moshe Rabbeinu wondered: How can that be? Hakadosh Boruch Hu took a coin of fire, showed it to him from beneath the Throne of Glory, and told him, “This they shall give,” “They shall give one like this.” Moshe Rabbeinu had difficulty with the half-shekel. He did not know or understand it; the matter was difficult for him, so Hakadosh Boruch Hu showed him a coin of fire from beneath the Throne of Glory and said, “This they shall give,” “They shall give one like this.” When we learn this teaching of our Sages, this Midrash, a simple question arises: What didn’t Moshe Rabbeinu understand? What did he find difficult? What is difficult about the half-shekel? It is a coin, after all. What is so hard about that? Did he need to be shown a coin? Everyone knows what a shekel is, and Hakadosh Boruch Hu says to bring half a shekel. What is so difficult to understand? Granted, when it comes to the menorah, which the Gemara says Moshe Rabbeinu found difficult, the menorah has many details and aspects, so he found it difficult. Similarly, when it comes to the creeping creatures, with their various types and details that are hard to identify, Hakadosh Boruch Hu showed Moshe Rabbeinu the details. But with the half-shekel, I don’t see any difficulty. Several commentators ask this question, [unclear]: What was difficult for Moshe Rabbeinu? What did he find difficult about the half-shekel? What
14:59 There are a number of explanations, but they deal with the inner dimension of the matter. To understand it, we need to understand the depth of Moshe Rabbeinu’s question. It was not merely a question about the physical coin—what a half-shekel is—but an inner question: How can the half-shekel, as Tosafos says, atone for the souls of the Jewish people? How can it be an “atonement for their souls”? The deeper question is this: The Jewish people had committed the sin of the Golden Calf, and Rashi says that the half-shekel was an atonement for that sin. The sin of the Golden Calf was a terrible sin, an actual act of idol worship. It was one of the lowest kinds of transgression. [unclear] How can the half-shekel atone for their souls? And Hakadosh Boruch Hu showed him a coin of fire. What is the meaning of that coin of fire? How can a shekel atone for a sin as terrible and bitter as the sin of the Golden Calf? The Toldos Yaakov Yosef brings, in the name of the Baal Shem Tov, an explanation of what it means that “Hakadosh Boruch Hu showed Moshe Rabbeinu a coin of fire.”
16:41 He gives an analogy. It goes like this: There was once a craftsman who worked with metals, a goldsmith, who taught an apprentice how to take a piece of gold or silver and make a special coin or a special object from it. He gave him all the instructions, explained everything, and wrote down all the details of how to do it. But he forgot to tell him one thing. He forgot something very simple: to work with metal—with things made of gold, silver, or copper—you have to put them over a fire. The fire softens the metals, and then you can work them and make whatever you want from them. That was the detail he forgot to mention. The apprentice went off with all the instructions except that one detail. He took all the tools and materials and tried to work, but it didn’t work. Nothing came of it; he couldn’t do it. He went back to his teacher, who told him, “Yes, you’ve forgotten one essential point: you have to put fire beneath the metal before you can make anything from it.”
18:09 Similarly, the Toldos Yaakov Yosef explains in the name of the Baal Shem Tov that this is the meaning of the coin of fire that Hakadosh Boruch Hu showed Moshe Rabbeinu. Moshe Rabbeinu wondered: How could one small coin bring about such a complete change? How could a coin atone for a sin connected with the gravest wrongdoing? What did Hakadosh Boruch Hu tell him? A coin of fire. When a Jew gives a coin, it is indeed a coin. But it is not just a coin, not merely an ordinary coin—a half-shekel, a small coin. When a Jew gives it and there is fire in that coin, it is a coin of fire, a burning coin. He gives it with vitality, enthusiasm, strength, kabbolas ol, self-nullification, and devotion to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. When a Jew gives a coin and that coin has fire and vitality in it, it becomes an entirely different coin. Such a coin has the power to bring about change and to serve as an atonement for a soul, atoning even for the gravest and lowest matters. What is the new insight here? At first glance, simply put, what is so remarkable about this? [unclear] When a Jew performs a mitzvah, he deserves
19:42 a reward for it. There is no need for a coin of fire, or for Hakadosh Boruch Hu to perform an entire miracle, bring out a coin of fire from beneath the Throne of Glory, make a great matter of it, and show it to him. Why was all that necessary? We could simply say: When a Jew performs a mitzvah, he connects with Hakadosh Boruch Hu. And if he does it with vitality and enthusiasm too, he deserves every good thing, including atonement for his soul from Hakadosh Boruch Hu. What deeper point does this story express when the Midrash says He showed him a coin of fire? What does it mean? [unclear] atonement for the gravest sin, the sin of the Golden Calf. The point is that fire has a special quality. What do we see about fire? It has no weight. And not only that: fire naturally rises upward. That is its nature. The Alter Rebbe says in Tanya, “The soul of man is a lamp of Hashem”: a Jew’s soul is like a flame, like fire, which naturally rises upward. That is the nature of the element of fire, and it distinguishes fire from all the other elements. All the other elements are drawn downward, whereas
21:14 fire is drawn upward. Not only does it have no weight and is not bound by weight; on the contrary, it wants to rise higher and higher. So too, a Jew’s soul is drawn to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. That yearning, that purpose, is ingrained in the soul: to be one with Hakadosh Boruch Hu. This is the true meaning of fire—the fire of the soul. Hakadosh Boruch Hu says to Moshe Rabbeinu: a coin of fire from beneath the Throne of Glory. As is known, the souls of the Jewish people are beneath the Throne of Glory. There is the well-known expression that the roots of souls are hewn from beneath the Throne of Glory. So the coin of fire is beneath the Throne of Glory. Hakadosh Boruch Hu revealed something extraordinary to Moshe Rabbeinu: When a Jew gives a physical coin—something that, in the words of the Midrash, has weight—it is a physical coin, a limited thing with weight, an inanimate object. But when a Jew gives the coin, he puts the fire of his soul into it. Within that coin, within that act of giving, within the simple act of handing over the coin, is the Jew’s very essence. The essence of his soul is in it, and the flame of his soul, the soul’s fire, is in that coin. So when a Jew gives an actual physical coin, there is a joining of two
22:54 Complete opposites. On one hand, it is a small, physical coin, an inanimate object; on the other, it is fire—a coin permeated with fire, with self-nullification, with the greatest fire of the soul. The point is that this fire is inside the coin. In the simplest physical act, placing a physical coin in a Jew’s hand, lies the greatest fire of the soul. Seemingly, these are two extremes; how is that possible? That is precisely the wonder that amazed Moshe Rabbeinu. This was his question: “Moshe found the coin of fire difficult to understand.” Moshe Rabbeinu did not understand: there is a soul, and Moshe Rabbeinu knew the soul and its fire; and there is a coin, which is a physical act. But those are two separate things. There is a physical act, and there are intentions, but they are two different worlds. Here, however, in that very act, when a Jew gives a coin and performs a simple action, the coin is permeated with fire. This is something extraordinary, and about it we are told that Hakadosh Boruch Hu brought out a coin of fire from beneath the Throne of Glory and said to him: “This is what they shall give, this is what they shall give.” Hakadosh Boruch Hu revealed something extraordinary to him here.
24:15 That is the meaning of the Midrash itself. Hakadosh Boruch Hu brought about a wondrous innovation that had not existed until then. Until then, the soul and the details of the act had been two separate worlds. This connection was brought about through the mitzvah of the half-shekel, and it required a special act—something new that Hakadosh Boruch Hu had to introduce into the world. That is the meaning of the words: Hakadosh Boruch Hu brought out a coin of fire from beneath the Throne of Glory, showed it to him, and said, “This is what they shall give, this is what they shall give.” Hakadosh Boruch Hu established here the principle of “this is what they shall give”: even ten, a hundred, or a thousand years later, right up to today, when a Jew performs a simple, physical mitzvah with a physical object—when a Jew gives tzedakah in the literal sense—the fire of the soul is present within it. The Jew’s very essence is present in it. In that small act is the essential fire of his soul. And so, within that giving lies the deepest delight of his very essence. A Jew’s wealth is found in that act. We can therefore understand how this brings atonement for the sin of the Golden Calf. This is the meaning here: the sin of the Golden Calf was a sin that harmed the very bond between a Jew and Hakadosh Boruch Hu. That was its gravity. It harmed the essential bond because it was a sin of idol worship. Idol worship touches upon
25:44 the essential bond with Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Now, when Hakadosh Boruch Hu gave the mitzvah of the half-shekel, He taught that when a Jew gives a simple thing to tzedakah, when he performs a physical act down here in this physical world, he puts into it the essence of his soul, his essential bond, his fire, his fervor, his strength, and his Jewishness. The entire essence of what it means to be a Jew is present in that act. And what is novel here is clear: even when the act is not accompanied by lofty intentions or powerful feelings, but is simply an act of giving something that has weight—and the emphasis on “weight” is that it is something material—even if he does it intending to receive a reward, without any delight or vitality, and does it only because he is obligated, nevertheless, the fire of the soul is present in that small, simple, lowly act. The very essence of the Jew is reflected there. Through this, it is revealed that a Jew and Hakadosh Boruch Hu are truly one. And that, as is well known, is the whole point of the half-shekel: it is called a half-shekel because it is a half. A Jew is only one half, and the other half is Hakadosh Boruch Hu. A Jew and Hakadosh Boruch Hu are not two separate things, but one thing that was divided into two from the outset; through the half-shekel, they become truly one. As
27:11 is well known from the Maggid of Mezritch’s words about “two trumpets”: chatzotzros—chatza’ei tzuros, “half-forms.” The Jew is half a form, Hakadosh Boruch Hu is half a form, and together they become complete. In other words, the Jew and Hakadosh Boruch Hu are truly one. The same applies to the half-shekel. The half-shekel shows a Jew that his existence and the existence of Hakadosh Boruch Hu are truly one. And this itself must be given to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, which is [unclear]. By the laws of nature, this could not happen. That is why the Gemara says that Hakadosh Boruch Hu showed him a coin of fire from beneath the Throne of Glory, revealing to him the depth of a Jew’s act. And this is what Purim teaches us. This was one of the meanings of the Gemara’s words: “Their shekels preceded his shekels”—and thereby nullified the decree from the outset. Haman’s claim, after all, was that the Jews were disconnected: “There is one people, scattered and dispersed among the nations.” The Jews were mixed in among the nations. Sadly, the Jews had no faith; they had become immersed in the world, mixed up in [unclear]. They were busy doing things, buying things—physical things. So much so that, as the Gemara says, the reason the entire decree of Haman arose was that they bowed to an idol. This was similar to the sin of the Golden Calf, a matter of idol worship. They bowed to an idol, and that was the cause that brought about the whole
28:41 matter of Haman’s decree. So Haman came to Achashverosh with his ten thousand talents of silver, thinking that with that amount he could counteract the half-shekel. But Hakadosh Boruch Hu answered him: You do not understand the matter at all. Do you think the half-shekel is a fundraising campaign? Do you think that because you have more money, you can accomplish something? Know that “their shekels preceded your shekels.” Their half-shekel came before this entire matter. By bringing the half-shekel, the Jews revealed that their very soul, their essential holiness, is whole. Since they are only one half and Hakadosh Boruch Hu is the other half, and the Jew and Hakadosh Boruch Hu are truly one essence, that cannot be undone. Once this was declared—“their shekels preceded your shekels”—Haman’s entire decree was nullified as a matter of course. And that is indeed what happened: Haman’s decree actually awakened holiness, the holiness of Yiddishkeit, in the Jews with even greater intensity. As the Alter Rebbe says, the Jews lived with mesirus nefesh throughout that entire year. For Haman’s decree awakened within the Jews the idea of “their shekels preceded his,” the idea of the half-shekel, the devotion of the soul’s very essence, and as a matter of course
30:11 Haman’s entire decree was nullified. And it was reversed: “The Jews would rule over those who hated them.” This is the lesson we learn from our weekly parsha, from this time of year, from Parshas Ki Sisa and the days of Purim, and from the mitzvah of the half-shekel that we fulfill during these days: the power of a Jew’s simple act. Sometimes a person dismisses it and says: Nu, what did he do here? One small act. Sometimes people do not understand: You say we are bringing a Jew back to Yiddishkeit; you put tefillin on him once—what did that accomplish? He is not even [unclear]. First, you need to bring him close, learn with him, explain things to him, and be with him as he accepts it. And from there, until he [unclear] learns and observes mitzvos every day. Nu, no—you put tefillin on him once; what is there in that? What is so great about it? One coin of tzedakah—what did you achieve with that? You got him to perform the act. And that is what Parshas Ki Sisa teaches us. Yes, when Hakadosh Boruch Hu tells Moshe Rabbeinu that a Jew should give a half-shekel, it is a small coin, a small act. But within that act lie all the fire and all the fervor of the soul; the very essence of the soul shines in it. And so, that simple act is [unclear]; it is specifically within that simple act that there is a coin of fire. Consequently, that act has the power to serve as an atonement for the soul and to raise the standing of the Jewish people. The Gemara says
31:46 that Moshe Rabbeinu asked: “Through what will the standing of the Jewish people be raised?” He was told: “Ki Sisa.” This is what raises the standing of the Jewish people; their standing will be raised with love. And may the true and complete Geulah indeed come, so that we will once again bring the half-shekel to the Beis Hamikdash and offer the [unclear] sacrifices, and “there we will eat of the offerings and of the Pesach sacrifices.”