Leben Chassidus – Rabbi Asher Farkash · Episode 69 · 4 Nissan 5783 · 37:45
Shabbos Parshas Tzav and Pesach - The Importance of Zerizus in Avodas Hashem - Rabbi Asher Perkash
Episode description
*Tanya, Likkutei Amarim, Chapters 26, 31, Igeres Hakodesh, Siman 21, *Sicha, Parshas Tzav 5748 *Likkutei Sichos, Volume 7, Parshas Tzav, *Maamar "Vechacha" 5737, *Sicha, Shabbos Parshas Vayishlach 5742
Machine translation into English of the automatic Hebrew transcript.
00:01 As we approach Pesach, today we’ll talk about zerizus—acting promptly—in serving Hashem. Pesach places a special emphasis on zerizus, as the Torah says, “For you left the land of Egypt in haste.” When Pesach comes, we are called on to serve Hashem with zerizus. In fact, the festival is called Pesach because of the idea of skipping over: everything happened in a way of haste and a leap forward. The fact that the service of Pesach, in particular, was done with zerizus shows that this is fundamental to serving Hashem. After all, Pesach is the beginning of that service: that is when we became the Jewish people, and when our service of Hashem began. Matan Torah came afterward. So the emphasis on zerizus at Pesach teaches us that it is fundamental to serving Hashem. Today we’ll talk about zerizus, which is also connected to the weekly parsha, Parshas Tzav. Right at the beginning of the parsha, the Torah says “Tzav,” and Rashi says, “‘Tzav’ is always an expression of urging, immediately and for all generations.” We find an emphasis on zerizus right at the beginning of our parsha, and likewise at Pesach. First, we’ll discuss the parsha: what is the explanation, what is the idea behind “‘Tzav’ is always an expression of urging”? And we’ll also discuss Pesach: why is the idea of zerizus emphasized so strongly specifically at Pesach?
01:48 Why do we find this idea of zerizus at Pesach? We’ll discuss the great value of zerizus, as explained especially in the teachings of Chassidus, and in Tanya in particular. A number of places speak about its great value: why does it matter so much, and how should one practice zerizus? But first, let’s pause for a story about the Alter Rebbe, told by the well-known chossid Reb Zakhamele [?], who was among the Alter Rebbe’s leading chassidim. He related what happened on the first 19 Kislev on which the Alter Rebbe held a thanksgiving meal. He says that in 5562, after the Alter Rebbe was released from his second imprisonment—as is well known, the Alter Rebbe was released from his first imprisonment on 19 Kislev 5559, but later various matters were raised again that led to his being imprisoned a second time. His second liberation came during Chanukah 5561. On 19 Kislev 5562, the Alter Rebbe held a thanksgiving meal. His first farbrengen was only with his family and a very small number of chassidim who were there. We don’t know what took place there; it seems there were
03:26 lofty and extraordinary revelations, which the Frierdiker Rebbe later recounted in his sichos in the name of the well-known chossid Reb Zakhamele [?], one of the select few who were able to attend that farbrengen. He relates that, among other things, the Alter Rebbe said there are positive mitzvos and prohibitions. He said that for chassidim, there are three positive mitzvos and three prohibitions. That is, beyond the 613 mitzvos in their literal sense—we are not talking here about Torah and mitzvos, which every Jew is obligated to observe—in the conduct and practice of Chassidus expected of chassidim, there are also three positive things one must do, and three things one must not do. He explained the three positive mitzvos as follows. The first is to be wise, to have intelligence and understanding. A chossid must be a wise person. The second is that a chossid must be joyful. And the third, he said, is zerizus—but he added that a chossid must be prompt while remaining measured. In other words, he called for zerizus, but insisted that it be accompanied by composure. What does that mean? Sometimes a person acts promptly, but his promptness comes with panic.
05:01 For example, someone needs to get to a minyan at a certain time, say seven o’clock. Some people get up a few minutes before seven, run and rush, and do indeed make it to the minyan. But they arrive flustered, caught up in all that panic. That is the opposite of composure. A chossid acts with zerizus: he gets up early, prepares himself and arrives at the same time, but his promptness comes with composure. The Alter Rebbe also said there are three prohibitions. The first is not to be foolish. The second is not to be sad, G-d forbid. And as a third point, he said that one should be [unclear], but not take pleasure in one’s own virtues. In other words, sometimes a person becomes impressed with his own virtues and grows too [unclear], and then the result is the opposite of what it should be. A person needs to know who he is, without becoming [unclear] about his own qualities and virtues. This was something the Alter Rebbe would speak about at every farbrengen. So one of the central principles that emerges from the ways of Chassidus is zerizus—zerizus with composure. And at the beginning of our parsha: “Hashem spoke to Moshe: Speak to Aharon and his sons, saying, This is the law of the burnt offering; it is the burnt offering,” “Command the
06:28 Children of Israel to bring them.” Rashi says: What is the meaning of “Command the Children of Israel,” “This is the law of the burnt offering”? “‘Tzav’ is always an expression of urging, immediately and for all generations.” This immediately raises a question asked by all the commentators: why mention specifically here that “‘Tzav’ is always an expression of urging”? Why does Rashi say this only now? This is a subject that has come up several times already. Why does Rashi explain specifically at the beginning of Parshas Tzav that it is an expression of urging? Why only here do we suddenly need to explain the meaning of the word “tzav”? There are several explanations. One explanation I heard from the Rebbe at a farbrengen for Parshas Tzav, Shabbos Hagadol, [unclear]. The Rebbe explained then—all the commentators deal with this and point out that there are several questions and several explanations. In addition, there is another question the Rebbe would raise each time: Rashi continues, “Rabbi Shimon said: The Torah needs to urge people especially where there is a monetary loss.” When we speak of zerizus, extra urging is needed when there is a monetary loss. Here all the commentators immediately ask: what monetary loss are we talking about? This is the law of the burnt offering, the daily offering. What monetary loss is involved in the daily offering? The daily offering was paid for with the half-shekel that the Children of Israel had to give just once a year, and from that they offered the daily offering throughout the year. Where
07:59 is the substantial monetary loss here? And furthermore, he is speaking to Aharon and his sons. Aharon and his sons had no reason at all to worry about a monetary loss. The half-shekel came from all of Israel, so they suffered no monetary loss. There are several other explanations of this as well. But here the Rebbe gives the straightforward explanation, the answer according to the plain meaning of the verses, and this brings out, yes, the richness [unclear]. The Rebbe says that since these are Parshas Vayikra and Parshas Tzav, this took place at the time the Mishkan was erected. These were the first days of setting up the Mishkan. Therefore, what was said then dealt with broad principles. [unclear] As stated according to the plain meaning of the verses, Rashi says that all these passages were said during the days when the Mishkan was erected. In other words, on Rosh Chodesh Nissan or before Rosh Chodesh Nissan, during the seven days of inauguration, when they set up the Mishkan—in those days, at the end of Adar and the beginning of Nissan, all these passages were said: the passages about the offerings, and all of Parshas Vayikra and Parshas Tzav. So it is clear that the instructions and all the matters in the parsha were broad principles, not just instructions about the particular details discussed there. These were general matters. The Mishkan had only just been erected, and the Children of Israel stood there, full of excitement at entering a new era, when the Shechinah would come to rest—yes, in the, in the—
09:33 the Beis Hamikdash would later be permanent—and a new era was beginning, in which Hashem’s Shechinah would dwell in the world. So it is clear that these verses express broad principles. When Moshe Rabbeinu comes and says, “Hashem spoke to Moshe, saying: Command Aharon and his sons, saying, This is the law of the burnt offering,” the words “Command Aharon and his sons” are not simply a command, but an expression of urging. This was not said only about the particular mitzvah under discussion now, the removal of the ashes or the burnt offering. It is a general expression. In other words, Rashi is telling us here that this is a principle throughout the entire Torah. As the Children of Israel stand there on Rosh Chodesh Nissan, erecting the Mishkan, Moshe Rabbeinu comes and says in the name of Hakadosh Boruch Hu, “Command the Children of Israel”—“tzav” is always an expression of urging. It is therefore clear why Rashi gives this explanation specifically here. Earlier, the Torah said, “And you shall command,” but that was written as part of a narrative, and Rashi himself says in Parshas Ve’atah Tetzaveh, “And you shall command” [unclear]. It is phrased as a narrative. The same is true of several other places where this wording appears in a similar way, simply as part of a narrative. But here, where the words are given as a command—“Command the Children of Israel”—Rashi says this is not merely a detail relating to that particular subject. Rather, “tzav” is an expression of urging. Moshe Rabbeinu used this wording, not an expression of saying or speaking, but specifically
11:03 The word “tzav,” “command,” implies urgency—immediately and for all generations—to express that serving Hashem must be done with alacrity. Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai comes and says: “Scripture must urge us all the more where there is a financial loss.” But the point is not limited to this particular mitzvah. He is also making a general statement: among the mitzvos, some involve a financial loss. Simply put, with all the mitzvos connected to tzedakah and good deeds, and matters where a person has to take money out of his pocket and give it to tzedakah or other causes, the yetzer hara comes along, creates [unclear], and puts up an obstacle—the opposite of alacrity. That is why “Scripture must urge us all the more.” In other words, when there is a financial loss, even greater alacrity is needed. But why does “tzav” in particular imply alacrity? Where in the word “tzav” do we find that idea? The Rebbe explained at another farbrengen that, as is well known and as brought in Chassidus, the word “tzav” is also related to tzavsa vechibur, joining and connection. In other words, the word “tzav,” which means a command, also carries the idea of joining and connection. When we say “tzav,” meaning a command, it also implies a bond and unity. And this is the difference between the language of speaking and
12:36 the language of “saying” and the language of “commanding.” When we say “speaking” or “saying,” we mean expressing something in words. It does not necessarily obligate a person to do it. Something is said or spoken about, but here “commanding” means an order: I command you. And when there is an “I command you,” it means that it comes from a king, from a master who has authority. The Jew is a servant, a servant of Hashem. Since Hakadosh Boruch Hu gives him an order, a command, and commands him with authority, we can understand that when something comes from Hakadosh Boruch Hu as a narrative or as a statement, the feeling is as though I can do it or not do it, as I wish. But when he hears that it is a command—that it is an order and that Hakadosh Boruch Hu commands him to do it—that itself creates the joining and connection between the Jew and Hakadosh Boruch Hu. And because of a servant’s devotion to his master, a Jew’s devotion to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, when there is an order, he will certainly hurry to carry it out with the greatest enthusiasm and the greatest joy. As explained in the Frierdiker Rebbe’s maamarim on bentching, where he explains why “command” is related to “joining and connection,” he gives the example of a great king and a great sage whose greatness is
14:02 beyond comparison. They are on a level immeasurably higher than an ordinary person. And the ordinary person, in relation to the great king and the great sage, is so far removed from them that, compared with the king’s wisdom and greatness, his simplicity is of no significance, of no standing at all. But when the king turns to that ordinary person and gives him an order, commanding him, “I command you to do such and such”—and, incidentally, the task itself may be a small thing—when he says this to him, when words come from such a great sage, such a great king, to an ordinary person, the command itself makes that ordinary person someone who matters. It becomes the greatest and most important thing: the king himself, or the great sage himself, turns to him, speaks to him, and tells him, “Do such and such.” What greater joy could a servant have than hearing that his great master comes, treats him as someone who matters, and commands him to do something? Then, because of his bond with his master, his self-nullification and devotion to him, he will certainly do it with great joy and eagerness. That is the meaning of alacrity. So Rashi says of “tzav”: when something is said as a command, it is an order that comes from the mouth of
15:24 the King of kings. The point is that when a Jew is completely devoted and self-nullified before Hakadosh Boruch Hu, and therefore accepts with faith that this is the Divine will, he will certainly act with alacrity. With the greatest alacrity, he will be enthusiastic and do it with joy and gladness of heart. When we consider the root of the matter, why can we say that serving Hashem must be done with alacrity? After all, one is obligated to perform the mitzvah. But what is the role of alacrity in a mitzvah? Why are we speaking about alacrity here? In a letter in Igeres Hakodesh, the Alter Rebbe explains the great importance of alacrity in serving Hashem in a wonderful and expansive way. The Alter Rebbe explains there that we learn alacrity from Avraham Avinu. What do we learn from Avraham Avinu? From the Akeidah, the binding of Yitzchak. About the Akeidah it says: “Avraham rose early in the morning.” When Hakadosh Boruch Hu told Avraham Avinu to take his son to the Akeidah, what does it say? “Avraham rose early in the morning.” Avraham Avinu got up early, with alacrity. And Rashi explains that this is Avraham Avinu’s greatness: he rose early in the morning, eager to do the will of Hakadosh Boruch Hu, even when commanded to take his only son to the Akeidah. He cites the words of our Sages: “It is Avraham’s alacrity that stands for us.” In the merit of Avraham’s alacrity in doing this, the merit of the Akeidah stands for us. That merit stands for us and protects us always, at every time and in every
17:11 situation, in every matter. The Alter Rebbe says something remarkable. He asks: What are we to make of the whole matter of the Akeidah? We see that the Akeidah is mentioned in our prayers: “And remember the binding of Yitzchak for his descendants today with mercy.” Wherever possible, wherever needed, in whatever situation we find ourselves, we always appeal to the merit of the Akeidah. The Alter Rebbe asks: What is the meaning of all this, of the entire matter of the Akeidah? We see that there were great and holy tzaddikim who willingly gave their lives for Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Not only that, there were even cases of greater mesirus nefesh, actual self-sacrifice. In what way is the Akeidah more important or greater than that? As for Avraham Avinu, he was Avraham Avinu, and Hakadosh Boruch Hu Himself spoke to him and told him to take his only son. Hakadosh Boruch Hu Himself spoke to him. And the Alter Rebbe says that tzaddikim who did not hear this from Hakadosh Boruch Hu went so far as to give their lives, showing even greater mesirus nefesh than there was here. So what makes the Akeidah special by comparison? This, as is known, [unclear], but this is the Alter Rebbe’s explanation of the Akeidah in Tanya, Igeres Hakodesh, chapter 21. The Alter Rebbe says that the main test of the Akeidah was alacrity. The test itself is not the point. What was so great about the test of the Akeidah? Avraham Avinu not only bound his son, not only obeyed Hakadosh Boruch Hu, and not only acted with mesirus nefesh; he did it with extraordinary alacrity, to show his desire to serve Hakadosh Boruch Hu. It is this extraordinary alacrity that stands for us. Avraham Avinu acted in a way that showed the depth of his desire to do the will of Hakadosh Boruch Hu. That is what stands for us, and that is what we always learn about alacrity from the Akeidah. The Alter Rebbe takes this particular point, and from it we learn about alacrity in all the mitzvos. We learn from Avraham Avinu that “the zealous perform mitzvos early.” And all the more so
19:30 in general, and particularly with the mitzvah of tzedakah. This is what the Alter Rebbe says: when a mitzvah involves a financial loss, as the mitzvah of tzedakah does, it is certainly good to perform it promptly. The Alter Rebbe goes on to explain the advantage of this: it makes the act more elevated and extraordinary. That is why serving Hashem in particular calls for alacrity. What does this have to do with Pesach? Why do we find the idea of haste specifically on Pesach? Because with regard to Pesach, we see alacrity on every side. As we said earlier, there was the alacrity shown by Hakadosh Boruch Hu. “And this is how you shall eat it: your loins girded, your shoes on your feet, and your staff in your hand; and you shall eat it in haste”—specifically. And of this it says: “For you left the land of Egypt in haste.” There, it is emphasized that the Exodus from Egypt took place specifically in haste, and haste expresses alacrity. This was the haste of the Jewish people. We also find it among the Egyptians, who said, “Rise, leave from among my people.” The Egyptians, too, were in a hurry for the Jewish people to leave Egypt. And we find it, so to speak, with the Shechinah as well. Here there are two expressions showing that there was haste on the part of the Shechinah, too. As the Gemara says about the verse, “The voice of my beloved! Behold, he comes, leaping over the mountains, skipping over the hills,” this was at the time of the Exodus from Egypt: although the Jewish people were supposed to be in Egypt for four hundred years, in practice they were there for only two hundred and ten years, because Hakadosh Boruch Hu shortened the time and skipped ahead to the appointed end, calculating the years and so on, as explained.
21:26 In fact, the Jewish people were not there for four hundred years, but for 210 years. Why? The shortening of the appointed time came about through haste. That is, there was haste on the part of the Shechinah, haste on the part of the Jewish people, and, in a different sense, haste on the part of the nations—the Egyptians, who hurried to send them away. That too was an aspect of speed and haste. So much so that everything that needed to happen in the manner of Pesach happened by skipping and leaping. Why is Pesach associated with skipping and leaping more than anything else? Here the Alter Rebbe gives a wonderful explanation in Tanya: When the Jewish people were in Egypt, they were bound up with impurity. They were sunk in impurity to the lowest degree. This is what we mean when we say that the Jewish people in Egypt were at the forty-nine gates of impurity, may Hashem protect us. And because the Jewish people were in that state, it had to be a case of “for the people fled.” They had to leave Egypt by fleeing. The Alter Rebbe explains that if the Jewish people had proceeded slowly, calmly, and taken their time, the opposing forces, the kelipah, would have grown stronger, to the point that they would never have managed to escape Egypt. They would have returned to Egypt, because their hearts were still deeply attached to matters of kelipah and sitra achra. After all, they had—
23:00 an inclination toward it, and so they would have wanted to go back. As we see, the Jewish people kept crying out that they wanted to return to Egypt. They fled Egypt. That is the point: it happened by fleeing. Yes, because they had not yet been refined. At the time of the Exodus, the Jewish people had still not been inwardly refined. The entire revelation of the Exodus was that “the King of kings, Hakadosh Boruch Hu, revealed Himself to them and redeemed them.” It was a revelation that came from Above. And the revelation of the Shechinah from Above brought about “for the people fled”—they fled Egypt. Yes, there was a kind of revelation of G-dliness. And that revelation of G-dliness awakened their soul, their G-dly soul. The G-dly soul was aroused to flee Egypt, but the animal soul was still sunk in impurity. If they had gone slowly, the animal soul would have gained the upper hand again, and they would have remained stuck in Egypt. That is why it says, “for the people fled.” And that is why Moshe Rabbeinu had to go through this whole process with Pharaoh, telling him they were going for three days and would return, when in practice they did not return. Why did he have to do all that? After all, Pharaoh wanted to send them away. The Rebbe also relates that Pharaoh wanted to send them away. Why was a stratagem, a tactic, and all of this necessary? The answer is—
24:24 because of the Jewish people. Their avodah had to be done in haste. Because they were still sunk in impurity, they had to flee from evil. It therefore had to happen by fleeing, and that is why it says, “for the people fled.” The Alter Rebbe therefore says that in the future, when Moshiach comes, the promise “I will remove the spirit of impurity from the earth” will be fulfilled. Through all their avodah over thousands of years of exile, the Jewish people refined and elevated the world, making it a place where, when Moshiach comes, the world will open up and “all flesh will see that the mouth of Hashem has spoken.” There will be a revelation of G-dliness in the physical world. That is why, by contrast, the verse says of the future Geulah: “For you will not go out in haste, nor will you go in flight”; “In quietness and calm you shall be saved.” The future Geulah will come in quietness and calm. Haste was part of the Exodus alone, because of the need to flee. So the haste of the Exodus stemmed from the Jewish people, from their state at the time: they were in “the nakedness of the land,” sunk in impurity. And Hakadosh Boruch Hu, out of His great love for the Jewish people, awakened them through the revelation of the Shechinah, so that the revelation would cause them to flee Egypt, to flee evil, and enable them to renew their strength in life. And from here—what are these three aspects? And the leaping of the Jewish people, which—
25:50 Here we need to remember the idea of fleeing. The Jewish people fled, and that brought about a corresponding response, measure for measure. Just as there was flight below, so it brought about flight Above, as water reflects a face back to a face. Just as there was flight below, so too Above, on the part of Hakadosh Boruch Hu, there was haste. When Hakadosh Boruch Hu saw the Jewish people’s haste, out of His love—the great love Hakadosh Boruch Hu has for the Jewish people—He brought them out, and then there was haste on the part of the Shechinah Above. Yes. This is what we say: “Leaping over the mountains, skipping over the hills; my beloved is like a gazelle or a young deer.” This is the revelation of the Shechinah in haste. And consequently, it also stirred haste among the Egyptians. That is, as Chassidus explains, the haste among the Egyptians was the haste of the sparks of holiness. It is well known that in Egypt there were many sparks of holiness that had fallen into kelipah, many holy elements lying mixed in the mire of “the nakedness of the land”—Egypt. And the Jewish people were in Egypt, as the Arizal explains, to elevate the sparks of holiness. The erev rav, as the Arizal explains: rav—the letters reish and beis—refers to the 202 sparks of holiness that had to be brought out of Egypt. This was an immense task. And when there was haste on the part of the Jewish people, and this—
27:11 stirred haste on the part of the Shechinah, it brought about haste among the sparks of holiness lying in Egypt: they were awakened and elevated. That made it possible to complete their elevation quickly and leave Egypt. In our avodah, this means, as the Alter Rebbe explains in Tanya, chapter 31, that when a Jew finds himself in his own personal “nakedness of the land,” in the struggle against the yetzer hara, and he knows that he has a body, an animal soul, and a yetzer hara, he can reflect on all these things—on his state and where he finds himself. Because of his animal soul and yetzer hara, he may fall into sadness over being caught up in undesirable things. The Alter Rebbe says that one must undertake the avodah of the Exodus: “A person is obligated to see himself as though he had left Egypt”—to leave Egypt every day. The daily Exodus is the flight: to flee from evil, from the animal soul, and to awaken the capacity for love; to rouse himself and reflect on the fact that he has a G-dly soul, that he has a Divine spark from Heaven within him. And since he must serve Hakadosh Boruch Hu, reflecting on the fact that he has a G-dly soul leads him to flee exile. This, after all, is the avodah of prayer: to bring—
28:37 the G-dly soul out from under the rule of the body and the animal soul—that is the flight from exile. Yes, and it is a tremendous joy to have the privilege of fleeing one’s inner Egyptian exile, one’s own yetzer hara and animal soul, and drawing close to G-dliness. This is a wonderful kind of alacrity in serving Hashem. And what the Alter Rebbe says about this in Tanya is as the Rebbe explains here, as the Rebbe explains in Igeres Hakodesh, section 21. [unclear] And the Rebbe explains it in Igeres Hakodesh, section 21. It concerns the Exodus, as the Rebbe explains in Likkutei Amarim, chapter 31. So there are two aspects of alacrity in avodah. There is alacrity in “turn away from evil”—the readiness to flee from things that are not good, to flee from evil and from Egypt. This is the aspect of haste: getting out of evil. And there is alacrity of the kind the Alter Rebbe explains with regard to Avraham Avinu, which comes from great joy, expressing joy and eagerness to fulfill the will of his Creator. This is the avodah of “do good.” When a person has great love and joy in connecting with Hakadosh Boruch Hu, he runs with tremendous joy, and that joy brings alacrity. And the Alter Rebbe says in chapter 26 of Tanya: Yes, this is a great principle in serving Hashem. You know, chapter 26 of Tanya says that this is a great principle in serving Hashem: To serve Hakadosh Boruch Hu, to win the battle against the yetzer hara, one can only overcome the yetzer when one’s avodah is done with alacrity born of joy, an open heart, and a heart free of every trace of worry.
30:33 So this is a great principle in serving Hashem. We need to know that to face the battle with the yetzer hara and overcome it, our service must be carried out with alacrity. And alacrity comes from joy. When there is joy, it brings alacrity; when alacrity is lacking, we cannot be strong in serving Hashem or stand up to the yetzer hara. The Alter Rebbe gives an analogy: When two people are fighting, and one wants to defeat the other, even if he is strong, has great strength and has everything he needs, if he lacks alacrity, he will fall. He will not be able to win. To defeat your opponent, it is not enough to have strength, or every opportunity and everything you need. You must have alacrity. And alacrity comes from joy. When joy is lacking, alacrity is lacking as a result; so even if you are strong, you will fall. This is therefore a fundamental principle, and the Alter Rebbe says it is a great principle in serving Hashem: to overcome the yetzer hara, we must awaken the quality of alacrity. Here, the Tanya speaks of two aspects: alacrity that comes from fleeing evil, and alacrity that comes from joy and an awakened desire to fulfill the will of one’s Creator. When we come to Pesach, when the Jewish people leave Egypt, there is great emphasis on alacrity and haste. And clearly, the same applies to each person individually: when these days arrive, especially this time of year, the month of Nissan, year after year, we must relive the Exodus from Egypt. And Pesach, with all its fervor, is
32:22 therefore, what is a person’s task? What is the true meaning of recounting the Exodus from Egypt? To leave one’s personal constraints and limitations, as we say, specifically through serving Hashem with alacrity and great joy. That is what we take from Pesach. Let me tell a story about alacrity. The story relates to something the Rebbe said at a farbrengen on the subject of alacrity. There was an interesting point in it. It was in 5742, when the Rebbe charged a group of chassidim with printing the first version of the Tanya. As is known, the Tanya we have before us is not the Tanya as the Alter Rebbe originally wrote it; it is the later version of the Tanya. But the Alter Rebbe also wrote an earlier version. The wording of that first version differs somewhat; it has variations and changes, and it existed in manuscript form. In 5742, the Rebbe charged them with working on the first version, recording the textual differences between the earlier and later versions, and providing explanations where possible and where needed. This was a group of accomplished, knowledgeable chassidim who devoted themselves to it. And the Rebbe instructed them to do it with the greatest alacrity. In practice, they had just a few weeks for an enormous, lengthy, difficult and profound task: examining fine details, changes and all the work involved. The entire Likkutei Amarim, Tehillos Hashem, [unclear]. And the Rebbe instructed them to do it immediately, before Adar II, within just a few weeks. All the chassidim devoted themselves to it day and night and worked on it with all their strength. And that is what happened. A few weeks later, before Adar II, they had not only finished the work; the book had already been printed and had gone
34:39 to press. And the Rebbe came to the farbrengen on Shabbos Parshas Vayishlach. But on the Shabbos before Adar II, the Rebbe came with the complete Tanya, held a farbrengen and spoke about it. The Rebbe expressed amazement. These were expressions one almost never heard from the Rebbe. He expressed his admiration and mentioned everyone who had devoted themselves to it heart and soul. Among other things, the Rebbe also said: When the instruction was given to finish the book by Rosh Chodesh Adar II, it seemed impossible even to him. Because when you think about it rationally, in the natural course of things it did not seem possible to do such a thing in so short a time. From a rational perspective, it seemed impossible—that is what the Rebbe said. But there was faith, faith in this group of chassidim, that if they truly devoted themselves to it with determination, they would certainly succeed. And so it was: they succeeded beyond all expectations, and so on. From this, the Rebbe drew a lesson: this is the alacrity we need in every aspect of serving Hashem, especially when we stand on the threshold of the coming of Moshiach. There will still be work to do when Moshiach comes—but that is after Moshiach comes. Until Moshiach comes, on the contrary, our service must be carried out with the greatest alacrity, especially as the prophecy says: “I, Hashem, will hasten it in its time.” Do we want the complete Geulah to come in the manner of “I will hasten it”? We must move from “in its time” to “I will hasten it” in our service of Hashem. And that is
36:29 the point we take both from this week’s Parshas Tzav and from the approaching festival of Pesach: our service must be carried out with haste. Since we stand in the final moments of exile, we must set about serving Hashem, and we must do so with the greatest alacrity. And that alacrity must be as the Alter Rebbe said: alacrity with deliberation. In other words, on the one hand, there must indeed be alacrity; on the other hand, it must not take the form of panic, G-d forbid, so that things are not done properly. Quite the opposite: together with alacrity, things must be done in an orderly, deliberate and inwardly engaged way. Then, by serving Hashem in this way, we succeed, and we will indeed be able to leave this exile, the very last exile, right now, and go to the true and complete Geulah through Moshiach. Then “I, Hashem, will hasten it in its time” will be fulfilled, and we will indeed merit “I will hasten it”—the hastening of the true and complete Geulah. And then what follows will be [unclear]. May every Jew have a kosher and joyous Pesach in every respect.