Leben Chassidus – Rabbi Asher Farkash · Episode 106 · 14 Teves 5784 · 33:07
Parshas Vayechi, Shabbos Chazak - The Strength of the Final Verse in Sefer Bereishis
Episode description
* Farbrengen, Shabbos Parshas Vayechi 5746, * Likkutei Sichos Volume 30, Vayechi Sicha 3, * Farbrengen, Parshas Vayechi 5747
Machine translation into English of the automatic Hebrew transcript.
00:00 There was once an incident involving the Frierdiker Rebbe, back in Poland, before World War II—in the years 5694, 5695, 5696, and around that time. The Frierdiker Rebbe was not in good health then. During that period he was very ill, and his physical condition was extremely difficult. He needed help with anything that required him to move, even simply shifting his position. One day, the Frierdiker Rebbe was in his room, and his attendant, Reb Chatshe Feigin, was in his office next door. Suddenly, the attendant heard a loud thud. Alarmed, he immediately ran into the room and saw that, unfortunately, the Frierdiker Rebbe had fallen and struck himself hard. It was a serious fall that caused him great suffering. Doctors were summoned at once, and everything necessary was done. The Frierdiker Rebbe had to remain in bed for several weeks. His condition was serious. But one thing greatly astonished the attendant: when
02:10 he entered the room and saw that the Frierdiker Rebbe had fallen and struck himself hard, he saw great joy on his face. There was a sense of elation, of joy; the pain and suffering did not show on his face. It was astonishing, because naturally he was in severe pain. Yet his face showed that he was in high spirits, very happy. This continued for several days. Alongside the great suffering he endured, there was visible elation and joy on his face. It was remarkable. Some time later, Reb Chatshe Feigin, the attendant, spoke about it, or perhaps the Frierdiker Rebbe himself told the story. These were the details: Some time before he fell and struck himself, the Frierdiker Rebbe had a feeling, a sense of something that chassidim might call ruach hakodesh. At any rate, as he said, he had a feeling that something undesirable was about to happen. But he was unsure: he did not know whether it would happen to the chassidim, G-d forbid, or to himself—who it was
03:56 that would experience this unwanted event. It was not clear to him: would it happen to him, G-d forbid, or to the chassidim, G-d forbid? At the moment he fell and struck himself, although it hurt—and hurt very much—he was relieved and happy, because it had all turned out the other way: the chassidim remained safe and well; he had taken the burden upon himself, so to speak. This story expresses the Rebbe’s self-sacrifice, his love, his true love, and his bond with the chassidim. As the verse in Yeshayahu says: “Indeed, he bore our illnesses and carried our pains,” and “He was wounded because of our transgressions, crushed because of our iniquities.” In other words, the tzaddik, the leader of the generation, takes the suffering upon himself. What does this have to do with our weekly parsha, Parshas Vayechi? Near the end of the parsha, Yosef the tzaddik calls the tribes together and gives them the good news of the Geulah: “And G-d will surely remember you, and you shall bring my bones up from here with you.” Yosef announces that the time of “He will surely remember” will come; the Jews will not remain stuck in exile forever. The time of “He will surely remember” will come; Hakadosh Boruch Hu will take us out of exile. But then he says, “And you shall bring my bones up from here with you.” They must also remember that, in the meantime, they would bury him there in Egypt, not alongside Yaakov and his forefathers, whom they took to... to... to... [unclear]. Yosef would indeed remain
05:49 in Egypt, but when the time came to leave, when “He will surely remember” was fulfilled, they were to remember to take him too: “And you shall bring my bones up from here with you.” Then comes the final verse of the parsha: “Yosef died at the age of one hundred and ten years; they embalmed him, and he was placed in a coffin in Egypt.” The verse tells us that Yosef did indeed pass away in Egypt, and they placed him in a coffin there. And with that, the book of Bereishis ends. The Rebbe once discussed this in a sicha on Shabbos Parshas Vayechi in 5746, devoting an extensive sicha to the final verse of the parsha. After all, we generally end on a positive note. So the question arises: How can the book of Bereishis end with a verse that seems to be the opposite of good? It tells us that Yosef passed away and was buried in Egypt. About the passing of Yaakov Avinu, the Sages say, “Yaakov Avinu did not die,” and here Yosef had given the good news, “And you shall bring my bones up from here with you.” But for now they had not taken Yosef out of Egypt, and our forefather remains there in [unclear], and so on. All those considerations—the reasons that Yaakov [unclear], why Egypt was not the place. And poor Yosef the tzaddik remains stuck in Egypt. That is how the book of Bereishis ends. One could have chosen a better ending, because the Torah could have ended with the preceding verse. It is a positive prophecy, with good news,
07:35 even when a harsh and bitter exile comes: Yosef the tzaddik assures them, “Jews, know that ‘G-d will surely remember you.’” It would therefore make sense for that verse to be the ending. But how can the entire book of Bereishis end specifically with Yosef’s passing and his burial in Egypt? That was the first question the Rebbe asked. In addition, it is known that the end of a book should also connect to its beginning. As we say at a siyum, “We bring the beginning close to the end,” and in many books we find a connection between the opening and the conclusion. So what is the connection between the final verse, “and he was placed in a coffin in Egypt,” and the first verse, “In the beginning, G-d created the heavens and the earth”? At first glance, no connection is apparent. What do they have to do with each other? The theme of the entire book of Bereishis is, as the Gemara says, “the Book of the Upright.” Bereishis is called “the Book of the Upright” because of the forefathers, who were called upright. In other words, the book of Bereishis is about the forefathers, who were called upright. How does its final verse—that Yosef passed away and remains in Egypt—express the theme of “the Book of the Upright”?
09:11 That was the question the Rebbe discussed at that farbrengen. I’ll share one point from the explanation. It is a rich explanation, relevant to our times, and it brings out an important point in serving Hashem, in a Jew’s service, particularly during exile and in its final days. The Rebbe spoke about this point: The first verse of Bereishis says, “In the beginning, G-d created the heavens and the earth”—Hakadosh Boruch Hu created the heavens and the earth. Then comes Rashi. Everyone knows the first Rashi: “Rabbi Yitzchak said.” Rashi asks: “The Torah should have begun only with ‘This month shall be for you.’” Why did Hakadosh Boruch Hu begin the Torah specifically with “In the beginning, G-d created”? The Torah is a book of mitzvos, and it should have begun with the first mitzvah commanded to the Jewish people: “This month shall be for you the first of months; it shall be the first for you of the months of the year”—the mitzvah of sanctifying the new month, given shortly before the Exodus from Egypt. “Why, then, did it begin with Bereishis?” Rashi asks. Rashi gives the explanation: “Rabbi Yitzchak said”—what is the reason? “He declared the power of His deeds to His people, to give them the inheritance of nations.” Hakadosh Boruch Hu wants to make known to His people how they received the “inheritance of nations,” the Land of Israel, from the nations. For a time will come when the nations of the world will say to Israel:
10:50 Let’s understand this. “The nations of the world will say to Israel: ‘You are robbers, for you conquered the lands of the seven nations.’” The Jews are thieves, robbers; they took the land of the seven nations. “They answer them: ‘The entire earth belongs to Hakadosh Boruch Hu.’” He created the world, “and gave it to whomever He saw fit”—He gave it to whomever He wished. First He gave it to them, and then “by His will He took it from them and gave it to us.” He took it from them and gave it to us. A beautiful Rashi, but it raises a simple question that is not resolved when we study it: What kind of answer is that? Are we to say that the entire book of Bereishis, from beginning to end—and another three parshiyos in the book of Shemos—were written only to answer the claims of non-Jews? Is that why the Torah was given—so that when non-Jews come with complaints, we can answer them? The Torah is a book given to Jews, to the Jewish people. Was the Torah given to the nations? That cannot be. And even if the verse “In the beginning” matters to us too, where is the answer here? The very fact that the Torah begins with it means this is not merely a side question raised by a non-Jew that we want to answer. It means that this question and its answer are the foundation of the entire Torah and mitzvos. What is
12:16 So is this the foundation of Torah and mitzvos? Here the Rebbe goes to the heart of the matter. What is the deeper meaning of the question Rashi raises? And how are this question and its answer—the opening words, “In the beginning, G-d created”—the foundation of the entire Torah and all the mitzvos? The claim is actually a very deep one. At first glance, it makes no sense at all. What is the claim in the first place? Why are we, specifically, robbers? All nations conquer territory. What happened? What is the accusation against the Jewish people? After all, countries are established through conquest, through war. [unclear] what you took from them. Yes, they fought open wars. So what is the claim to begin with? The claim, however, is an inner, profound one directed at the Jewish people. And it is not merely a claim made by the nations of the world. More broadly, the claim concerns the Jewish people: the nations know that “You chose us from among all the nations.” They know that Hakadosh Boruch Hu gave the Torah to the Jews. “Hashem sat enthroned at the Flood; Hashem will sit enthroned as King forever,” says the Midrash. When Hakadosh Boruch Hu came to give the Torah, all the nations went to Bilaam. They thought a flood was about to come upon the world, and they did not understand what was happening. Bilaam explained to them: “Hashem will give strength to His people; Hashem will bless His people with peace.” There is a Jewish people that came out of Egypt, and Hakadosh Boruch Hu is giving them the Torah. All the nations knew that “You chose us from among all the nations and gave
13:49 us His Torah.” They have no doubt about it. But that is precisely their claim: the Jewish people are a G-dly people, a spiritual people, a people who belong to Hakadosh Boruch Hu and must be servants of Hashem. They should be a spiritual people who study Torah, observe mitzvos, and live in an elevated world—a world of holiness, a world of G-dliness, a world of spirituality. That is their world. And there is the well-known statement attributed to Rav Saadia Gaon: “Our nation is a nation only through its Torah.” What are the Jewish people? Torah—a people of Torah. But land, a country, a city, living there—and making that the main thing? That is physical. For the nations of the world, by contrast, the bond that defines a people is an external one. They are flesh-and-blood peoples, connected to the earth, to worldly concerns, to this world. So it is understandable that they need a country, a city, a land; without these, they are nothing. How could they exist as a people without a land? But why do the Jewish people need a land? What do they have to do with a physical place? Serving Hashem is spiritual. Torah is spiritual. Studying Torah. The idea that Jews need a land and can live in one—that is a decree, a physical matter. It does not belong to Jews.
15:31 That is the claim of the nations of the world. And now we can understand why it is a claim made by all the nations. Not just the seven nations; Rashi does not say here that the seven nations say, “You are robbers.” All the nations of the world make this claim: “If the nations of the world say...” Essentially, this is a non-Jew’s claim. He says: I understand that a Jew is something elevated, but for that very reason, he belongs to higher worlds, to spirituality. The physical world, on the other hand, is our place; it does not belong to him. And in truth, this is not only a non-Jew’s claim. Sometimes even a Jew, one of those whom Hashem “chose,” asks the question behind this claim: What do I have to do with this world, with physicality? Rashi comes along, the Torah comes along, and says: “In the beginning, G-d created the heavens and the earth.” Right at the start of the Torah, in its first verse, the Torah says: You must know the purpose of creation—why Hakadosh Boruch Hu created the world—and the purpose of the soul’s descent below—why Hakadosh Boruch Hu took a soul that is “truly a part of G-d above” and brought it down from the loftiest heights, from the highest place, from Gan Eden, and sent it below into a world of flesh, of physicality and materiality, into this physical world with all its concerns. The purpose is for a Jew to make this world a dwelling place for Him in the lower realms, as the Alter Rebbe cites from the Midrash in Tanya. To make the world a home for Hakadosh Boruch Hu. That is why a Jew lives in this world. That is
16:55 what a Jew must do in the world: take the earthly and the physical and make them holy. As in the well-known saying attributed to the Alter Rebbe: “Israel is one nation on earth.” “And who is like Your people Israel, one nation on earth?” In the tefillin of Hakadosh Boruch Hu, the tefillin of the Master of the World, it is written: “And who is like Your people Israel, one nation on earth?” The Alter Rebbe explains that the Jewish people are “one nation on earth”: they are a people who bring the oneness—the “Hashem is one” of Shema Yisroel, the one Torah, and the oneness of Hakadosh Boruch Hu—into the earth, into earthly things and the affairs of the world. That is a Jew’s purpose. And therefore: “In the beginning, G-d created the heavens and the earth.” The entire book of Bereishis was written for this reason: to tell a Jew what his purpose is, why Hakadosh Boruch Hu sent him into the world. The purpose, the intent behind the world’s creation, is for a Jew to turn material, physical things into Eretz Yisroel. This applies to Eretz Yisroel in the literal sense, to “the place that Hashem will choose,” which Hakadosh Boruch Hu would give the Jews—the land of the seven nations—so that they could turn the land of Canaan into the Holy Land. That is what the entire book of Bereishis speaks about, beginning with “In the beginning, He created”: it tells how the Patriarchs came, and how Hakadosh Boruch Hu repeatedly promised them, “Rise, walk through the land, its length and its breadth, for I will give it to you,” and
18:27 in almost every parsha, alongside all the stories of the Patriarchs, the Torah tells us what Hakadosh Boruch Hu says, and how they [unclear] and lived in Eretz Yisroel and made it a holy place. But that concerns Eretz Yisroel. Then comes an even greater innovation: Yaakov Avinu goes down to Egypt. What is the point of that? It is not only that Eretz Yisroel should become a holy place; a Jew has a mission to turn the entire world into Eretz Yisroel. This brings us to the well-known story about the Tzemach Tzedek: In the time of the Tzemach Tzedek, there were chassidim who wanted to travel to Eretz Yisroel and settle there. They came to the Tzemach Tzedek to ask for a blessing. The Tzemach Tzedek told them: “Why do you need to travel to Eretz Yisroel? Make Eretz Yisroel here.” Our Rebbeim explain this in a number of sichos: this is the innovation—a Jew must know that wherever he is, in whatever land, city, or place in the world, the intent, the purpose, and the [unclear] are for him to make that place into Eretz Yisroel. In simple terms, that means bringing holiness into that place. This is what we are talking about, chassidim. The Rebbe explains that this is not only about [unclear] at times of holiness. Generally, we are speaking of times that are not holy. Anywhere in
19:57 the world, a Jew must refine the sparks of holiness. So a Jew should not be satisfied with being in Eretz Yisroel, in Jerusalem, on the holy mountain, studying Torah there and connected to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. The sparks of holiness there are refined as a matter of course. But one must not be afraid to leave that place; it is precisely by descending into the lower world that one reveals the light there. This is the point: wherever one finds oneself, there are sparks of holiness, and one must seek them out and refine the entire world. That is what they accomplished in exile. “One of you is exiled to Barbary and one of you is exiled to Sarmatia,” as it says in the Midrash. In other words, when a Jew goes into exile and reaches some place in the world, it is not only to refine the sparks; he must turn the entire world into a place of the Holy Land, bringing holiness to the whole world. This began when Yosef went down to Egypt, and later Yaakov went down to Egypt with the tribes, and they lived in the best part of the land, in the land of Goshen. They transformed the land of Egypt and brought holiness, light, and Torah into it, as this week’s parsha, Parshas Vayechi, tells us. And there is the well-known teaching of the Alter Rebbe that during the years Yaakov Avinu spent in Egypt, because they studied Torah there, they turned darkness into light. This is how the book of Bereishis ends, with Parshas Vayechi. The Torah wants to impress upon us the purpose of what happened then, especially during exile. A Jew must know that we are not wandering aimlessly. He must know that his presence in a remote place in exile, wherever he finds himself, has a purpose and an intent: “to make His name dwell there”—to bring Hakadosh Boruch Hu there and turn the land
21:53 Canaan from a place of materiality, to transform it into a holy place. That is the ultimate purpose. The greatest example of this in the entire Book of Bereishis is Yosef Hatzaddik. Yosef Hatzaddik came to Egypt, but he did not fall into Egypt. On the contrary, Yosef was its ruler. He led Egypt and brought holiness into it. He made Egypt a place where Jews could stand strong, in the best part of the land, serve Hashem and do His will, as the entire parsha, Parshas Vayechi, tells us. He strengthened the Jews and showed that one can be in Egypt and be in charge there, because he was the one who prevailed over Egypt, transforming it into a place of G-dliness. That is why Yosef remained buried in Egypt: to be there and bring holiness into it, as the parsha says. As long as Yosef Hatzaddik was in Egypt, the Jews were strong, and they had the ability to leave the Egyptian exile. It says in the parsha that if not for [unclear], he could have led the Jews out. In other words, he gave the Jews the strength to recognize the root, the very nature of exile, and to transform Egypt into a spiritual place, a holy place, a place where G-dliness is felt. That is the purpose of every Jew, and that is how the Book of Bereishis ends. This is the connection between the end of Bereishis and its beginning: a Jew’s purpose is to be in the world, in the physical land, even in a place like Egypt, and make that place one of G-dliness, holiness and spirituality; to transform the physical into the spiritual, to make the world a dwelling place for Hashem. This is what the Rebbe spoke about, as mentioned, on Shabbos Parshas Vayechi 5746. And there is more. There is a sicha delivered on the eve of Shabbos Parshas Vayechi 5747, a year later. A year after the Rebbe spoke about the practice that the Rebbe should put out a
24:04 sicha. These were Likkutei Sichos. The book Likkutei Sichos is made up of sichos from earlier years that were published before Shabbos, which the Rebbe would edit and revise. That is how Likkutei Sichos came into being. Each week, before Shabbos, an edited sicha from an earlier year would come out—sometimes from two years earlier, sometimes from ten. That year, around Parshas Vayechi [unclear], another sicha came out in a volume of Likkutei Sichos in honor of Shabbos: a concluding discussion on the Book of Bereishis, Parshas Vayechi. That Shabbos, Shabbos Parshas Vayechi 5747, the Rebbe held a farbrengen. It was a very rich farbrengen, full of substance and intensity. The Rebbe raised the same question again, in greater depth, and added another central point to it: How can the Book of Bereishis end with this verse? Here the Rebbe added another question. We all know the Jewish custom that when a book of the Torah is completed, everyone says the final verse together. Everyone stands, the reader taps on the bimah and chants the final verse in a special tune. Then everyone calls out together, “Chazak, chazak, venischazek!” Yes, we call out “Chazak, chazak.” As the Gemara says, “They need strengthening”; “Torah needs strengthening.” Saying “Chazak” gives us strength to continue learning. The Rebbe asks: Seemingly, we say “Chazak, chazak, venischazek” because this is not only encouragement for Torah study in general. It is also encouragement in particular, that
25:54 we draw strength from what we have just learned for our lives, for serving Hashem, for studying Torah and observing mitzvos. This is especially true of the final verse, after which we call out “Chazak, chazak, venischazek.” The Torah reader stands there, and what does he read? “And Yosef died... and he was placed in a coffin in Egypt.” A lovely verse. That is the final verse, and he chants it in a special melody. Then everyone calls out together, “Chazak, chazak, venischazek!” About what? About Yosef’s passing and being placed in a coffin in Egypt? Where is the “Chazak, chazak, venischazek” here, as the Rebbe asked? That was the question: What encouragement is there in this? And that is in addition to all the earlier questions we discussed. To this, the Rebbe added a new point, a new perspective on the whole matter. Here we see what a true tzaddik, a true leader of the generation and a true leader of the Jewish people is. Yosef Hatzaddik knew that a harsh, dark and bitter exile was about to begin. The Jews would be stuck in Egypt for decades, for centuries. They would be slaves at backbreaking labor, working with mortar and bricks and bearing a bitter yoke. They needed strength. They needed strength to overcome the trial, the darkness of exile. Yosef Hatzaddik says: I am staying here with the flock of the Jewish people. I am not leaving. The fact that Yaakov Avinu had to go to Chevron, to the Me’aras Hamachpelah, is a special matter, and there is a full explanation for it: the Patriarchs had to be specifically in Eretz Yisroel, and through
27:46 that they could have an influence. It is like certain tzaddikim who need to be in a loftier world, a world of holiness, and exert their influence from there. But Yosef Hatzaddik says: What is my role? Why was I placed here? To be here with the Jewish people, “He leads Yosef like a flock.” The Jewish people are going to be in Egypt, in exile. They need strength to overcome the trial of exile—not merely so that exile, G-d forbid, will not drag them into its darkness and bitterness, but, on the contrary, so that they can be in control of the exile and experience a true ascent precisely through the descent. As Chassidus explains, “The descent is for the sake of an ascent.” That is why Yosef remains in Egypt. And when a Jew is living in Egypt, twenty years after Yosef is gone, where life is hard and bitter, surrounded by troubles, by all the bitterness, by “and you will be pursued” in Egypt and all the hardships of backbreaking labor, he remembers that Yosef Hatzaddik is there with him, in that very Egypt. That gives him the greatest strength to overcome it and remain strong. And as Yosef Hatzaddik says, “You shall bring [me] up... from the land of Egypt.” The words “you shall bring up” have a Chassidic meaning: precisely in the land of Egypt, “you shall bring up”—they experience a true ascent. And the strength to leave comes from knowing that Yosef
29:26 is with them. Yosef Hatzaddik gave something up. With Hashem’s help, he could have arranged to be taken to Eretz Yisroel, but he gave that up and said: I want to remain here in Egypt so that the Jews will have strength, so that somehow they can take heart, do their work with joy and gladness of heart, and carry it out with resolve even when they are in the deepest darkness, a darkness doubled and redoubled. That is the “Chazak, chazak, venischazek,” the greatest source of strength: a Jew knows that the leader of the generation, the tzaddik, is there with him. The Rebbe explained this idea in connection with the Frierdiker Rebbe. Later in the farbrengen, the Rebbe spoke about the Frierdiker Rebbe, one of whose names was Yosef. He spoke about this—we are within the thirty days before Yud Shvat, the great and holy day, as the Rebbe called the Frierdiker Rebbe’s yahrzeit, the day of his hilula—and said that the Frierdiker Rebbe had come to America. He could have asked to be buried in Eretz Yisroel, with all its advantages and added holiness, and all the aspects of burial in Eretz Yisroel. Nevertheless, he remained, and his resting place, his Ohel, is specifically outside Eretz Yisroel, in America. Why? It is the same idea as with Yosef. His name is Yosef. The Rebbe spoke about the Frierdiker Rebbe’s name, Yosef, just like Yosef Hatzaddik. He could have arranged to be taken to Eretz Yisroel. Yet he
31:00 wanted to remain specifically outside Eretz Yisroel, in Egypt. After all, Jews are living in ikvesa diMeshicha, in the later generations, in the final days of the darkness of exile, when exile is at its most bitter—a darkness doubled and redoubled, a very deep exile. When a Jew is outside Eretz Yisroel and knows that Yosef Hatzaddik is there with him, that gives him the greatest “Chazak, chazak, venischazek.” He knows that the Rebbe, the tzaddik, the leader of the generation, is with him: “I am with him in distress.” That knowledge itself gives him the greatest strength: not to be shaken by any aspect of the darkness of exile, but, on the contrary, to simply stand in a state of Geulah, above exile. As this was expressed in Chassidus, and as the Rebbeim taught us in the account of [unclear]: when the Frierdiker Rebbe was still on his way out of prison, in [unclear], he said that we must know [unclear] that only the body is in exile; the soul has never gone into exile, and no non-Jew has dominion over Jews. A Jew stands above exile and above all these things, and through that he can overcome every trial. That is the “Chazak, chazak, venischazek” of the final verse of the parsha. It gives us strength even when we are in exile, knowing that the tzaddik, the leader of the generation, the Rebbe, is with us. And that gives us the strength to overcome every trial and to stand
32:30 In a state of Geulah, even while we are still in the last days of exile. And this is the final generation. To that end, we must use our strengths to welcome Moshiach Tzidkeinu. Because this is where we already stand: we are already on the threshold of Geulah. This is where we find ourselves in the last days of exile. And we reach this through all our actions—good deeds, Torah study, fulfilling the mitzvos with joy and a glad heart, and spreading the teachings of the Baal Shem Tov, the teachings of Chassidus. And this is the final generation. [unclear] Moshiach Tzidkeinu, speedily in our days, amen.