Pekudei 5784 - The Virtue of the Service of Teshuvah

00:00 There is a letter from the Frierdiker Rebbe to his son-in-law Reb Mendel HaKohen Hornstein, his younger son-in-law, may Hashem avenge his blood, who perished in the war. In the letter, he tells him about his father. Reb Mendel Hornstein’s father, Reb Moshe HaKohen Hornstein, was a son-in-law of the Rebbe Maharash; he married Rebbetzin Chaya Mushka, the Rebbe Maharash’s daughter. The wedding took place a few years after the passing of the Rebbe Maharash, in 5652. Before that, in 5651, they held the tena’im, as it’s called. He tells of a farbrengen held at the time, where the Rebbe’s eldest son, the Rebbe Rashab, farbrenged with a minyan of chassidim. There was great joy. At that farbrengen, the Rebbe Rashab spoke at length about the faculty of visualizing. He strongly emphasized its remarkable power: a person with this faculty can reach the loftiest, deepest, most subtle matters in G-dliness, in Chassidus, and so on. He spoke extensively about it. Among the things he related at that farbrengen was a story about a time when he was at a place displaying various paintings and portraits, the work of great masters, true painters and artists of the past, who had created richly detailed paintings,

01:46 richly detailed paintings that people could come and see. He went there and stood before one of the paintings. And he tells the whole story: one of the paintings there was a richly detailed picture of a field. The field was full of details, truly a living picture. He describes them: perhaps it was springtime, a sunny day approaching summer. You could see how alive the painted scene was—on the one hand, a sunny day, and on the other, a light breeze blowing. You could see the little trees, the straw and the grass, and you could see that a light breeze was blowing. On one side was a field of wheat, and on the other were trees, birds and animals. Among them, you could see a bird perched on a tree branch, and another bird perched on a tree. It was a richly detailed painting, and everyone who came to see it was struck by how alive it was: it was truly, truly a living picture. The Rebbe Rashab relates that there was a whole story surrounding this painting. What was the story? Years earlier, some people had come there,

03:25 great scholars had come there to see the painting, and they were all impressed by how lifelike, rich and beautiful it was. Suddenly, a simple farmer came in, a man of the fields who had no standing compared with all those great scholars. He came in, saw the painting, looked at it and said in his own language, Russian or some other language, that something about the painting was not true to life. Everyone laughed at him—all the great professors, scholars and connoisseurs: “Who is he? What do you know? This is a painting by a very famous painter, a wonderful artist, and all the scholars were impressed by it. And now a simple man comes along and dismisses it like that.” The people there laughed at him and so on, and a commotion broke out. Then a distinguished man came in, one of the great experts there, together with several other scholars. They went over to see what was happening, to find out and ask for an explanation. They were told: a man has come here claiming that the painting isn’t true to life, and everyone is laughing at him, and so on. That expert asked them to listen to what the farmer had to say. He came over and saw the farmer standing there, surrounded by people, trying to explain:

04:48 [unclear]. The man says: the painting may be beautiful, richly detailed and lifelike, with the sunshine, so pleasant, and with every last detail. But there is one thing: naturally, when a little bird is perched on an ear of grain, the stalk has to bend, at least a little. It cannot stay at the same height. The painter got everything else exactly right, but because he painted the bird perched on the ear of grain without the stalk bending—it remains in the same position as all the other stalks in the field—the whole picture becomes untrue to life. It detracts from its truth, from the painting’s vitality. Well, that is [unclear]. The Rebbe Rashab heard the story, was deeply impressed by it, and said afterward that the Baal Shem Tov taught that a Jew must learn a lesson in serving Hashem from everything. From all the paintings and stories, he learned a number of lessons in serving Hashem. At another farbrengen—not in this letter, but at another farbrengen—the Frierdiker Rebbe told the story again and said what the lesson was, what the Frierdiker Rebbe, what the Rebbe Rashab—

06:20 He took this detail, this point in the story, and said: you can have a complete, beautiful, clean and excellent painting, with every detail gleaming and everything done to a very, very high standard. But the bending is missing. What is missing? The bending is missing. And the stalk that did not bend—that is what spoiled the entire painting. So too in serving Hashem: sometimes a person can be good, an excellent person who does good things, studies, davens, [unclear], but the bending is missing. He lacks that movement of bending. And when the bending is missing, when the movement of bittul is missing—that movement of bending and putting oneself aside—the whole thing loses the vitality, richness and truth of the picture. We find this point in the weekly parsha, in the verse in Parshas Pekudei: “These are the accounts of the Mishkan.” That is the first verse of the weekly parsha. From here [unclear], as the Alter Rebbe explains in Likkutei Torah on the verse, “These are the accounts of the Mishkan, the Mishkan of testimony.” What question do all the commentators ask, following the Midrashim and Rashi? [unclear] There are several questions. One is: “These are the accounts of the Mishkan, the Mishkan of testimony”—why is the word

07:52 “Mishkan” said twice? After all, it could have said, “These are the accounts of the Mishkan.” What does “the Mishkan, the Mishkan of testimony” mean? “Which were counted at Moshe’s instruction”—why does it say “at the instruction of,” “which were counted at Moshe’s instruction”? [unclear]. In any case, on this question, Rashi’s well-known explanation is that “Mishkan, Mishkan” alludes to the Batei Mikdash that were taken as collateral. The two mentions of “Mishkan” refer to the two Batei Mikdash that were taken as collateral. Hakadosh Boruch Hu took away the Beis Hamikdash because of the sins of the Jewish people, and Hakadosh Boruch Hu [unclear]. That is “the Mishkan, the Mishkan.” This is, simply, Rashi’s answer to the question. But then comes the Alter Rebbe’s explanation, which explains the matter according to Chassidus. And not only that: why is the first Mishkan called simply “Mishkan,” while the second is called “the Mishkan of testimony”? Why the repetition, and why does the word “testimony” appear with the second Mishkan? The Alter Rebbe explains this. The concept of the Mishkan relates to Jews. Every Jew is a Mishkan for Hakadosh Boruch Hu. “They shall make Me a sanctuary, and I shall dwell among them”—it does not say “within it,” but “among them,” within each and every Jew. In other words, every Jew is, in essence, the Mishkan and the place for Hakadosh Boruch Hu. And this is what our Sages say, as is well known. Chassidus cites it—in Tanya and in many maamarim of Chassidus—the well-known teaching of our Sages: “Hakadosh Boruch Hu desired to have a dwelling place in the lower realms.” Hakadosh Boruch Hu wanted a dwelling place in the lower realms, and this is, in fact, the Midrash on the verse [unclear] concerning the Mishkan. The Midrash brings this idea: Hakadosh Boruch Hu wanted, Hakadosh Boruch Hu asked, Hakadosh Boruch Hu demanded, Hakadosh Boruch Hu insisted that He have a dwelling place in the lower realms. The Alter Rebbe says that “the lower realms” refers to Knesses Yisroel, to the souls of the Jewish people, and this

09:55 When the soul is in a physical body, in this physical world, while Hakadosh Boruch Hu is spiritual. And when a Jew engages in Torah and mitzvos in thought, speech, and action, his thought becomes a dwelling place for G-dliness. It becomes pure thought, holy thought, thought filled with words of Torah. His speech becomes speech of Torah and mitzvos. He speaks words of Torah and prayer, and his entire power of speech is devoted to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. The same applies to his power of action. The 248 limbs and 365 sinews correspond to the 248 positive mitzvos and 365 prohibitions—and through this, he becomes a dwelling place for G-dliness. This is what is said in Yirmiyahu: the prophet Yirmiyahu says, “They are the sanctuary of Hashem, they are the sanctuary of Hashem, they are the sanctuary of Hashem.” “The sanctuary of Hashem” is said three times in chapter 7 of Yirmiyahu. As the Alter Rebbe explains, this refers to the three garments: thought, speech, and action. This is the essence of a person, and this is the main purpose of the soul’s descent below. The work of the beinoni is to make his thought, speech, and action “the sanctuary of Hashem.” This is a dwelling place for Him, may He be blessed: “the sanctuary of Hashem.” In other words, through Torah and mitzvos, to make this world, the body, and the animal soul into “the sanctuary of Hashem.” So what is the work? What does a person need to do to turn himself into a sanctuary for Hashem’s Name, into a dwelling place for G-dliness? How does one become a Mishkan? In general, as we said, the work is Torah and mitzvos. But as our Sages say, and as stated in the Zohar on Parshas Terumah, “When the sitra achra is subdued, the glory of Hakadosh Boruch Hu rises throughout all the worlds.” The main work needed to turn this world, the body, and the animal soul into a dwelling place for G-dliness—the main work in making a Mishkan—is the work of iskafya, subduing oneself. A Jew is here, a soul in a body, in this physical world. This physical world is a world of kelipos and sitra achra, and in addition, he has a body and an animal soul,

12:08 with a yetzer hara and everything that comes with it. Yet while he has a body and an animal soul, he practices iskafya—this is the work of “subduing the sitra achra.” When he restrains his desires and compels his thought, speech, and action to do what Hakadosh Boruch Hu wants, rather than what his body and animal soul want, he thereby becomes a dwelling place, a Mishkan for Hakadosh Boruch Hu. He becomes “the sanctuary of Hashem,” a sanctuary for Hakadosh Boruch Hu. How does this relate to the verse “These are the reckonings of the Mishkan”? “Pekudei,” the reckonings, also alludes to Torah and mitzvos, the commands through which the Mishkan is refined for Hakadosh Boruch Hu. And what are the two references to the Mishkan—“the Mishkan, the Mishkan”? The verse says it twice, and the second time it says “the Mishkan of testimony.” The Alter Rebbe gives several explanations for this. One explanation is that, broadly speaking, this is the difference between the service of tzaddikim and the service of baalei teshuvah. There are two aspects of serving Hashem, which, broadly speaking, are two approaches. There is the service of tzaddikim, the work of Torah and mitzvos. When we say “tzaddikim” here, we do not necessarily mean a tzaddik as defined in Tanya. The service of tzaddikim being discussed here is a positive approach: a person serves Hakadosh Boruch Hu day by day, follows the Shulchan Aruch, fulfills Torah and mitzvos, and makes vessels for Hakadosh Boruch Hu. The service of tzaddikim is orderly, daily work, in which a Jew serves Hakadosh Boruch Hu according to halachah, according

13:45 to the Shulchan Aruch, doing all these things and making them into vessels for G-dliness. When all a person’s actions are for the sake of Heaven, then with every activity, every mitzvah, and every good deed a Jew does, he brings Hakadosh Boruch Hu into it and makes the world a dwelling place for Him, may He be blessed. But there is another way of serving Him, a deeper way, and that is the work of teshuvah. In the work of teshuvah—as explained in Chassidus—there is teshuvah for sins and transgressions. When a Jew has committed a transgression, sinned and caused spiritual damage, strayed from the path, and become, G-d forbid, disconnected from G-dliness and distant from it, Hakadosh Boruch Hu has given us the power of teshuvah. Hakadosh Boruch Hu has given a Jew the ability to awaken the point of Jewishness within him and his power of teshuvah, to feel complete remorse for the past, resolve for the future, and return to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Then he becomes beloved and cherished, close and dear, even more than he was before the sin. And the power of teshuvah is, as the Gemara says, that “in the place where baalei teshuvah stand, even complete tzaddikim cannot stand.” The work of teshuvah has a special quality over the service of tzaddikim. What is that quality? Precisely because he was in a place of darkness, precisely because he was in “a parched land and the shadow of death,” “a parched and weary land without water,” a deeper thirst and a deeper longing for Hakadosh Boruch Hu were awakened in him, as the Alter Rebbe explains in Tanya.

15:16 The power of teshuvah is that precisely because a person was in “a parched and weary land,” his love, his thirst, and his longing for Hakadosh Boruch Hu are much stronger, and so on—with far greater intensity and far greater vitality. Therefore, through his service, a baal teshuvah reaches a higher, deeper level. This is the power of teshuvah: it elevates a person and connects him with the highest levels of G-dliness, with what is beyond seder hishtalshelus, the ordered progression of worlds. Broadly speaking, these are the two aspects: the service of tzaddikim is the regular, orderly service, a service that follows an order and gradation. Therefore, the G-dly light, the G-dly flow drawn down through this service, is G-dly light that comes in an ordered, graduated way. In Chassidus it is called “the light that fills all worlds”—the level of G-dliness that relates to the worlds, the level that is invested in vessels. Broadly speaking, this is the service of tzaddikim. In the work of teshuvah, the baal teshuvah breaks through: he leaps from one extreme to the other, from the lowest depths to the highest heights. The work of teshuvah draws down lights that are beyond seder hishtalshelus. This is what is alluded to by “the Mishkan of testimony.” What is the allusion in “the Mishkan of testimony”? What does the word “testimony” add to simply “Mishkan”? “Mishkan” alone, as we said earlier, in “the reckonings of the Mishkan,” is Torah and mitzvos. “The Mishkan of testimony” is brought about through teshuvah, which brings about the aspect of testimony. And the word “eidus,” testimony, has three meanings. As we heard, the Alter Rebbe gives three explanations of the word “eidus.” One meaning—

16:56 of the word “eidus” is testimony as [unclear]

18:54 When the sitra achra is subdued, “the glory of Hakadosh Boruch Hu rises throughout all the worlds.” This arouses a wondrous delight Above and draws down loftier revelations, loftier things, because of the great pleasure it gives Him; it reaches levels of G-dliness completely beyond seder hishtalshelus. This also relates to the third explanation: “eidus” is connected to the word “ad,” as in “adei ad,” forever, and “ad” conveys eternity. The verse says, “He Who dwells forever.” He notes that, as the Gemara says, there is “up to and including” and there is “up to but not including.” In any case, this alludes to “He Who dwells forever,” to drawing down G-dliness that is entirely infinite, without limit, and eternal, beyond seder hishtalshelus. And this is drawn down specifically through the work of “the Mishkan of testimony.” Something remarkable follows from this. When you think carefully about this point, something remarkable emerges: according to this, it is specifically through the service of a baal teshuvah, who was in the lowest depths, in deep and compounded darkness—it is precisely because he had fallen so low that he merits to reveal and awaken a much deeper light, a much deeper connection. This draws down the loftiest levels of G-dliness—that is, far loftier levels of G-dliness. On this basis, we can understand an even deeper meaning in Rashi’s explanation. Rashi says that “testimony” is connected with a “pledge”: “the Mishkan of testimony” alludes to the Beis Hamikdash, which was taken as a pledge twice because of the sins of the Jewish people. And this is remarkable: how does that explanation fit with the straightforward meaning of the verse? The Midrash’s explanation connects with it. An even richer, deeper explanation emerges [?] through the way Chassidus explains the verse, and the two explanations complement each other. Why?

20:55 On the surface, Rashi says, and the Midrash says, that the word “Mishkan” appearing twice is seemingly something noteworthy. It says: “Because of the sins of the Jewish people.” Looking deeper, Jews sinned, and because of their sins the Beis Hamikdash was destroyed. That is seemingly destruction, G-d forbid—the loss and negation of the Beis Hamikdash. But the verse says exactly the opposite: “Mishkan.” What does “Mishkan” mean? It means that it was given only as a mashkon, a pledge. Simply put, what is a pledge? It is something handed over to a creditor, and when the debt is repaid, the pledge is returned intact. That is why the wording here is “mashkon,” “taken as a pledge.” In other words, although the Beis Hamikdash was destroyed, it will return in its entirety. What is the point here? When you look at the Beis Hamikdash—and the same applies to serving Hashem—there can be, G-d forbid, a decline, a fall. There was a decline, a fall brought about by sins and transgressions. If you look at the surface, all this is destruction, G-d forbid, a decline: the person fell and sinned. But the inner dimension of Torah reveals exactly the opposite: it is precisely the descent that brings him to a far higher ascent. Through the work of teshuvah, he reveals the innermost part of his soul, the depth of his connection, and by doing teshuvah he reaches a much higher level. And it becomes clear that the entire

23:02 purpose of the descent was a higher ascent. The same is true of the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash and of exile as a whole. On the surface, when you look at exile, you see exile, destruction, darkness, concealment, G-d forbid. “Children exiled from their father’s table”—they are very far away. But when you look at the inner meaning of things, the descent of exile is what brings about the work of teshuvah. And through that, a Jew receives the Beis Hamikdash back in its entirety. “A pledge taken as security”—it becomes clear that the whole thing was not merely destruction; it was a pledge. Through his service, a Jew receives everything back in its entirety, and more: “The glory of this latter House will be greater than that of the first.” It will be far loftier, deeper and richer. This is the meaning of “Mishkan,” “Mishkan of testimony,” with all the qualities through which it serves as testimony. This also explains a remarkable teaching of our Sages. In a maamar on Pekudei, the Rebbe explains a remarkable teaching of our Sages that the Gemara gives concerning the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash. The Gemara in Yoma says that when the Beis Hamikdash was destroyed and the enemies entered, they saw the cherubs intertwined. In other words, it was precisely then that the cherubs displayed true, inner love. If you remember, the cherubs represent Hakadosh Boruch Hu and the Jewish people. And precisely at the time of the destruction, there was this inner love. The question is: How can that be? Precisely at the time of the destruction, which happened because of our sins? After all, the Gemara says that when the Jewish people do not do the will of

25:01 Hashem, the cherubs were not positioned “facing one another,” but just the opposite. Yet precisely at the moment of destruction—the culmination of that state, brought about “because of the sins of the Jewish people,” for which the Beis Hamikdash was destroyed—what did they see? The cherubs were intertwined. So what does that express? This very point: on the surface, it is exile, something negative. It is exile, destruction. “Like a woman whose husband has gone overseas”; “How she sits alone”—she sits by herself. But in the inner meaning of things, it is precisely at this time that Hakadosh Boruch Hu’s deepest love is present. In truth, the inner purpose of exile is to reveal the true, inner love for Hakadosh Boruch Hu. The exile is only an outward appearance, so that this love can be revealed. That is to say, when Hakadosh Boruch Hu seeks to reveal the Jew, it seemingly has to happen through darkness and concealment. But inwardly, what does concealment bring about? On the contrary, it awakens yearning, it awakens thirst, it awakens “My soul thirsts for You.” As it says in Tehillim: “A psalm of David when he was in the wilderness of Yehudah: My soul thirsts for You; my flesh longs for You, in a parched and weary land without water.” Precisely in the wilderness of Yehudah, when he is in a wilderness, “a parched and weary land,” that is what awakens the thirst for Hakadosh Boruch Hu. And so this is the allusion in “These are the accounts of the Mishkan.” The Midrashim and sefarim explain that pekidah also denotes union. Ah, that is what “These are the accounts of the Mishkan” is about: the union of Hakadosh Boruch Hu and the Jewish people, precisely when it is “taken as a pledge.”

26:46 Precisely at a time of destruction and exile, the fullest love, affection and bond between Hakadosh Boruch Hu and the Jewish people are revealed. That is the point. And this is how we understand the continuation of Rashi’s words. What does Rashi say next? “It was taken as a pledge in the two destructions, because of the sins of the Jewish people.” Rashi continues: “The Mishkan of testimony”—testimony to the Jewish people that Hakadosh Boruch Hu forgave them for the sin of the Golden Calf. That is the continuation of Rashi’s words. Seemingly, why does he bring in the sins of the Jewish people here, and also the atonement for the sin of the Golden Calf? Rather, this is what Rashi is alluding to: the whole matter is positive. From the Mishkan’s being taken as a pledge comes the power of teshuvah, and through teshuvah the true inner self of a Jew is revealed. Through this we come to the revelations of Moshiach, the revelations of the future. Now, whenever we study the parsha around Purim, we study it together with Purim. After all, it is in the month of Adar, the time when we read the Megillah, and the entire Purim story is really the very same story. This is explained. The whole Purim story is like this: on the surface there were Haman and Esther and Achashverosh’s decrees; there was “scattered and dispersed among the peoples,” and there was exile. But inwardly, the entire Purim story is “And I will surely hide My face on that day.” It is precisely the concealment that must reveal

28:14 the “I.” Within “I will surely hide,” within the concealment, the “I” is present in a much deeper way. It was precisely through the concealment that the Jewish people’s dearness to Hashem was revealed in the loftiest and deepest way: how Hakadosh Boruch Hu loves the Jews with an essential love, so much so that “on that night, the king’s sleep was disturbed.” And as it says in the Midrashim, [unclear]. Precisely at night, “on that night,” amid the deepest, most intense darkness of exile, “the king’s sleep was disturbed”: Hakadosh Boruch Hu was stirred toward the Jewish people, and that brought about all the miracles. This also happened because a spirit of mesirus nefesh was revealed among the Jews. The essence of the Jew was revealed among them. This brought out their identity as “Yehudim.” What was revealed? The Jews stood with Mordechai in mesirus nefesh, [unclear], remained with Mordechai and bound themselves to Mordechai’s people, standing firm throughout that entire year with mesirus nefesh, as the Alter Rebbe says. And this is the great meaning of Purim: it is precisely through concealment that the true inner qualities and essence of the Jewish people are revealed. From this came “The Jews had light and joy and gladness and honor.” [unclear], and this reminds us and awakens the truth that “these days are remembered and observed”—“in those days, at this time.” So may it be for us. Precisely in a time of darkness

29:39 doubled and redoubled, of concealment, precisely when “darkness covers the earth and thick cloud the nations,” precisely at a time of “I will surely hide My face,” G-d forbid, we must remember what the parsha and the Megillah tell us here: within the greatest concealment, within all the concealment of “And I will surely hide,” is the “I,” Hakadosh Boruch Hu. On the contrary, it is precisely there that the deepest revelation, the deepest love, emerges from concealment into revelation. When we, when every Jew, stand with full strength, strengthen ourselves and prevail, and become a sanctuary of Hashem, a dwelling place for the Most High—“the Mishkan of testimony”—through Torah and mitzvos, through the service of tzaddikim and through teshuvah, “the Mishkan of testimony,” then we will merit “They are the sanctuary of Hashem, they are the sanctuary of Hashem, they are the sanctuary of Hashem.” And we will indeed merit to see the Third Beis Hamikdash, where all the Jewish people and Hakadosh Boruch Hu will be together, and so on. And all this is “by the word of Moshe,” because Moshe Rabbeinu explains, reveals and brings out the virtues of the Jewish people. That is why it is specifically “by the word of Moshe.” Moshe reveals all these great qualities within the Jews. And Mordechai, who had a spark of Moshe—“Mordechai in his generation was like Moshe in his generation”—and likewise the Moshe Rabbeinu in every generation, the Moshe Rabbeinu of our generation, who connects every Jew with Hakadosh Boruch Hu, and may we merit

31:05 Indeed, to the true joy of “the month that was transformed for them from sorrow to joy and from mourning to Yom Tov,” and to bring one redemption close to the next, until the true and complete Geulah through Moshiach Tzidkeinu.