Parshas Balak and the Geulah of Yud-Beis Tammuz - The True Jewish Strength of Zechus Avos

00:00 The Frierdiker Rebbe recounts his imprisonment and Geulah on 12–13 Tammuz in his writings and sichos. As is known, the Frierdiker Rebbe was arrested and imprisoned on 15 Sivan 5687. It was a harsh, bitter imprisonment, and he was made to suffer greatly. In his writings and diaries, he recounts at length, down to the smallest details, the farbrengens he held and what led to the great miracle of 12–13 Tammuz and his release. There are many stories of mesirus nefesh and of the great miracles that took place there. The Frierdiker Rebbe emphasizes in his diaries and writings that as soon as he arrived at the prison, as soon as he was incarcerated, he made a firm resolution: this entire situation was utterly null and void, because the words “There is nothing besides Him” stood before his eyes—nothing exists apart from Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Consequently, all the impurity, the imprisonment, all the hardships and all the people moving about there held no significance for him whatsoever. That resolution gave him the pride, the strength and the firmness to stand with mesirus nefesh, endure all the hardships, withstand every test and overcome them. And more than that, to emerge in—

01:42 complete victory. That was the great victory of the Festival of Liberation on 12–13 Tammuz. There are many stories, some told by him himself and others by chassidim, about what happened in those days. One story the Frierdiker Rebbe tells concerns the interrogations. When they brought him in for questioning, they subjected him to very harsh interrogations, trying to extract all kinds of detailed information from him. Of course, he stood firm and did not yield at all. He told several stories about this. During one interrogation, they asked his age. When conducting an interrogation, they have to record various details about the prisoner: his name, who he is, his father, his mother, his age, and so on. When they asked the Frierdiker Rebbe how old he was, he answered that he was 182. That was his answer. They looked at him and became very angry; they were furious that he was trying to joke with them. What did he mean, he was 182? Why was he making jokes? They began threatening him in all sorts of ways. And the Frierdiker Rebbe said: But I will tell you why I consider myself 180 and—

03:19 two. After all, you did not arrest me as a private individual. What have I done? I have done nothing wrong, nothing for which I should be arrested and imprisoned. Rather, you targeted me because I represent my community, my group, my people. Because I am the leader, the nasi of Chabad chassidim, you imprisoned me as the representative of our Rebbeim, of my fathers and grandfathers, beginning with the Alter Rebbe. In other words, when you imprisoned me, you also imprisoned all my fathers and grandfathers, back to the Alter Rebbe, the founder of Chabad Chassidus, whose birth was 182 years ago in 5687. So this is not about me as a private individual; I represent the entire group, the entire community. This is about Chassidus, about a golden chain stretching back 182 years. Of course, his deeper intent was to emphasize firmly that this was not about a private individual. It is a golden chain, the chain of generations of our Rebbeim, beginning with the Alter Rebbe, and that itself gave him all his strength. He brought up the merit of our forefathers, which, at such a moment—

04:51 we hear about, and that itself brings their merit to bear. In Parshas Balak, in today’s reading, we find this theme throughout. In particular, 12 Tammuz falls around the time of Parshas Balak, when we study and read about the Jewish people and their pride and mesirus nefesh. In the verses of today’s reading, we see the merit of our forefathers very clearly, and that is also the theme of this Yom Tov, the Festival of Liberation on 12 Tammuz. In Parshas Balak, we find that when Bilaam wanted to say things that were the opposite of a blessing, “Hashem your G-d did not wish to listen to Bilaam, and Hashem your G-d turned the curse into a blessing for you, because Hashem your G-d loved you.” That is, Hakadosh Boruch Hu not only refused to heed Bilaam’s curses; He turned all the curses into blessings. In the blessings and verses of today’s reading, we find this whole theme of the merit of our forefathers. Right at the beginning of his words, in the first verses of the blessings he is about to give, he says that Balak summoned him to speak, G-d forbid, words that were the opposite of a blessing—to speak ill of the Jewish people. But “How can I curse one whom G-d has not cursed?” Hakadosh Boruch Hu does not want to curse them. “And how can I express anger when Hashem has not been angry?” Hakadosh Boruch Hu does not want to be angry; Hakadosh Boruch Hu does not want to—

06:29 curse. And Rashi says that throughout those days, Hakadosh Boruch Hu was not angry; there was no wrath, judgment or anger at all. Throughout that time, Hakadosh Boruch Hu regarded the Jewish people with love and compassion. He continues: “For from the tops of the rocks I see him, and from the hills I behold him.” When I look at the Jewish people, I see that “from the tops of the rocks I see him, and from the hills I behold him.” And what does the Midrash say, as Rashi cites it? The “rocks” are the forefathers, and the “hills” are the foremothers. In other words, when he looks at Jews, he sees the merit of their forefathers: “From the tops of the rocks I see him”—the forefathers; “and from the hills”—the foremothers. Because of the merit of the forefathers and foremothers, he cannot touch the Jews. That is the strength of Jews: simply by being Jews, descendants of Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov and of Sarah, Rivkah, Rachel and Leah, they have such strength that Bilaam cannot touch them at all. As he goes on to say: “Behold, it is a people that dwells alone and is not counted among the nations”—they are not counted together with the nations at all. What is the deeper meaning? What is he trying to express? What point is he emphasizing when he says, “From the tops of the rocks I see him, and from the hills I behold him,” and therefore, “Behold, it is a people that dwells—

07:54 alone and is not counted among the nations”? The commentators on the Torah offer several explanations of the distinction of the Jewish people that Bilaam expressed here. There is the Midrashic explanation cited by Rashi: the merit of the forefathers and the merit of the foremothers. The holy Ohr Hachaim, examining the verses closely, explains what Bilaam meant. Bilaam was looking for even the slightest flaw. That is one of the characteristics of evil, hatred and the accuser—and Bilaam epitomizes the accuser. He was looking for somewhere he could even begin. The holy Ohr Hachaim says that Bilaam tried to find some point from which he could speak negatively, saying something undesirable. [unclear]. To speak of something undesirable, to pronounce a curse or say something negative about Jews, one has to begin where a spirit of impurity is present. That is how it works: if there is an opening for a spirit of impurity, there is a place where the kelipah can take hold. So Bilaam searched for a flaw, something bad, something negative, some blemish on which the evil eye and the things he wanted to cast upon them could take effect. Through them, he hoped, G-d forbid, to harm the Jewish people and bring [unclear] upon them, may G-d protect us. That was his attempt. And in response, he said: I went [unclear]; I wanted to find the root of this nation, but I saw: “From the tops of the rocks I see him, and from the hills I behold him”—these are the forefathers and these are the foremothers; “Behold, it is a people that dwells alone.” In other words, he tried to determine where the nation’s root begins. He saw that the root

09:45 The Jewish people begin with the fathers and mothers. Of course, there were people before them—Terach, earlier generations, and many others. They came from families that had once practiced idol worship: “At first, our ancestors were idol worshippers.” But Bilam says that when he looks, he sees that Hashem separated us from all of that, from all those roots. That is the analogy in the verses. He says, “For from the tops of the rocks I see him.” When I look at where the Jewish people begin, I see that they come from the rocks. These are the fathers—Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov—all of them holy. “And from the hills I behold him”—the mothers, all of them holy. I try to see whether they can be connected to Terach, to Nachor, to the world of idol worshippers, to people associated with impurity, with the sitra achra, with idol worship. The verse says, “Behold, it is a people that dwells alone.” Hashem took the Jewish people and separated them, distancing them again and again, down to their very essence. For their existence begins with Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov; they have no connection to what came before. “And is not counted among the nations,” the holy Ohr Hachayim says, refers to the separations, to the three separations. Yitzchak was separated from Yishmael. Yaakov was separated from Eisav. And he says, “And is not counted among the nations.” Hashem distanced them through these separations as well. For “through Yitzchak shall your offspring be called,” and in Yaakov’s case, Hashem distanced Eisav and separated them. Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov—these are the roots, after all the impurity that surrounded them. And so they remained one distinct people, whose roots are only in G-dliness, in holiness, in the fathers and mothers; they are connected to G-dliness. Therefore, there is no place there for a spirit of impurity. Of course, there are also things that we, the Jewish people, did improperly—the sin of the Golden Calf and others. These were

11:58 undesirable deeds that they did. That is the analogy, and that is what the verse says: “He has not seen iniquity in Yaakov, nor has He seen toil in Yisroel.” Even when there are undesirable things, Hashem looks at the fathers and mothers, and therefore He does not look at the Jewish people in that way when they sometimes do things that are not as they should be in matters of holiness. What a person sometimes does in undesirable matters can affect the Jewish people. Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev, the holy Berditchever, brings these verses here. This is the meaning of what is said: “For from the tops of the rocks I see him, and from the hills I behold him. Behold, it is a people that dwells alone and is not counted among the nations.” The holy Berditchever explains: What is the deeper meaning of what he says here? The Jewish people are “a people that dwells alone,” a people for whom the world was created. The Berditchever explains “For from the tops of the rocks I see him, and from the hills I behold him” this way: Already at the creation of the world, when Hashem came to create the world—“In the beginning G-d created the heavens and the earth”—right then, “from the tops of the rocks,” from the beginning of creation. Hashem said, “In the beginning,” and Rashi says: “‘In the beginning’—for the sake of the Torah, for the sake of Yisroel.” Already at the creation of the world, “from the tops of the rocks I see him, and from the hills I behold him,” Hashem established in creation that the entire existence of the world is in the merit of Yisroel, for the sake of the Torah, for the sake of Yisroel. And therefore the Jewish people—“and is not counted among the nations.”

13:39 Hashem did not take the nations of the world with Him in creating the world, but the Jewish people. And therefore Bilam cannot do anything. That is what Bilam said: How can he challenge the Jewish people when all of creation, the entire world, stands in their merit? So he cannot challenge them at all, and he has no hold over them. The Rebbe once spoke in a very interesting sicha about this Rashi, about this verse—a wonderful, interesting explanation and a deep idea that brings out the strength we receive from our fathers, Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov. But let’s look closely at Rashi. He says something very interesting. Rashi asks: What does “For from the tops of the rocks I see him, and from the hills I behold him” mean? Rashi says: I look at the Jewish people, and what do I see? I see that they are strong and firmly founded upon the rocks and hills. They have such strength. They are built with strength and pride, like rocks and hills, through their connection to their fathers, to Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov, to the fathers and mothers. So they have this strength from the very beginning, from the start of their history. Already then they have the strength and power of the fathers and mothers. And therefore Bilam knows that he cannot challenge the Jewish people. And the Rebbe asked a simple question, as was his holy practice when he would give an explanation of Rashi at the Shabbos farbrengen. A question,

15:12 an interpretation and explanation of the plain meaning of the verse. And here a very simple question arises. We know that Rashi explains the plain meaning of Scripture, the straightforward meaning of the words. When you look at the commentators who explain the plain meaning—the Ramban and others, the Rashbam—the meaning of “For from the tops of the rocks I see him, and from the hills I behold him” is very simple, without deep midrashim or interpretations. The straightforward meaning is that Bilam stood on top of the rocks. Bilam is standing on a high rock, on a cliff, above a mountain. He wanted to see all the Jews so that he could say what he wanted to say, and so he positioned himself on a high mountain. Thus, in these verses, he says that he can see the Jewish people. That would seem to be the straightforward meaning of the words. Yet here Rashi brings a midrash about the fathers and mothers, and so on. Because according to the plain meaning, “From the tops of the rocks I see him” means: I am standing here at the top of a cliff, on top of a rock, on a mountain, looking out and seeing the Jewish people. And I see that they are together, and so on, with many people streaming along with them; and it goes on to say, “Behold, it is a people that dwells alone.” I see that the people are strong, united, and so on. That is how all the commentators who explain the plain meaning understand it, but Rashi, specifically here, gives an interpretation that is not the plain meaning at all, but is based on a midrash. And interestingly, Rashi does not say exactly what the midrash says. The midrash says: “The rocks are the fathers; the hills are the”

16:43 “mothers.” That is what the midrash says. Its interpretation of “For from the tops of the rocks I see him” is that when I look at the Jewish people, I see the rocks, I see the hills. But Rashi says something different. Rashi says that Bilam looks at the Jewish people and sees that they themselves are like rocks, that they are strong. “I see them strong and firmly founded” in the merit of the fathers. He is not speaking about the fathers, but about the Jewish people now. What is Rashi trying to say here? Especially since Rashi is explaining the plain meaning of Scripture. And the Rebbe says: This is precisely the point—Rashi is indeed explaining the plain meaning of Scripture. Rashi looks at the verse. What does the preceding verse say, as Bilam begins to speak? Its wording is, “He took up his parable and said.” In other words, he is about to give a parable. It follows that Bilam’s words were not merely literal statements; they are parables, and a parable has a meaning. According to the straightforward interpretation we mentioned, it is impossible to understand what the parable is here. He is not giving a parable, but simply saying that he is standing on a mountain and looking out. What is the parable in that? “He took up his parable and said.” So Rashi must conclude that, according to the plain meaning of Scripture, we need to find a parable here. What is the parable? Rashi says: “For from the tops of the rocks I see him, and from the hills I behold him”—that is the parable. “I see him”: I look at the Jewish people

18:21 When I look at the people, I see the parable: they are like a rock. A stone, and not just any stone—a rock, an ancient, strong stone, with power, pride, and firmness. Hills suggest height, pride, and strength, as we find in stone. This is the parable that expresses the strength of the Jewish people. And this strength is not just any strength; it is a strength handed down from ancient times. It is the same strength the fathers had. The strength of Avraham, Yitzchak, Yaakov, Sarah, Rivkah, Rachel, and Leah; the strength with which Avraham stood alone against the entire world with self-sacrifice—that same strength has continued until now and is present in the Jewish people. And because this strength exists, the Jewish people are eternal. Such strength cannot be broken; nothing will succeed against it. This is “Behold, it is a people that dwells alone and is not counted among the nations.” This is the firmness, the firmness of self-sacrifice, the firmness of a Jew’s bond with Hashem. This is the true strength of the Jewish people, and therefore they are an eternal people, a people that “dwells alone and is not counted among the nations.” And as Rashi says, even when a count is made of all the peoples, the Jewish people cannot be counted among them. Yes, even when they

19:47 And here Rashi says that according to the Targum, [unclear], the Jewish people will remain strong, alive, and enduring forever, because their eternity is a G-dly eternity. It is an eternity that no one can overcome. This is what these verses express: the firmness of a Jew, the firmness of Chassidus. And so Rashi says that we must understand the plain meaning of the verse, but it is a metaphor. The strength of the rocks is a metaphor for the strength of the Jewish people. The Rebbe adds another point here. It is explained that a metaphor conveys the central point of what it represents. What is a metaphor? It is not exactly the same reality; if it were, it would not be a metaphor. Now I want to bring out a deeper point: we look for a metaphor in something physical, but there is more to this metaphor. We are speaking about the metaphor, about strength, firmness, and power, and about the nature of a metaphor and what it represents in general. What is the metaphor, what does it represent, and what is the relationship between them? The Rebbe explains that in the metaphor, in the stone, its strength comes from its own sense of substance. It is something solid, dense, and strong; the stronger the stone, the more substantial and firm it is. With a Jew, it is exactly the opposite. A Jew’s firmness does not come from a sense of self. On the contrary: a Jew is not firm because he himself is strong, because he has powerful abilities and [unclear].

21:31 And he has [unclear], and so on and so forth. The strength of the Jewish people is bittul—exactly the opposite of the stone. Here there is more to it than the metaphor. The metaphor conveys the strength itself, but the source of that strength is entirely opposite. In a stone, strength comes from its substance. A sense of self can be a source of strength, up to a point, after all. A Jew’s strength comes from his bittul, from the fact that he has no independent existence of his own. It is not about him himself; it is a G-dly reality. Something whose strength comes from its own sense of self can eventually be weakened and broken. But a Jew’s strength is the strength of Hakadosh Boruch Hu. He is “literally a part of G-d above,” and that is where he draws his strength from. Such strength is G-dly strength. Hakadosh Boruch Hu lives and endures forever and ever, and the Jew is bound to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, “literally a part of G-d above.” That is his strength, a G-dly strength. Precisely his bittul, the fact that he has no independent existence of his own, is his firmness—G-dly firmness. It is an essential firmness that comes from essential bittul. And this is one of the foundations of the maamarim of 12 Tammuz: they explain what the Jewish people’s mesirus nefesh is. It is an essential firmness, a pride, “the pride of Yaakov.” The Frierdiker Rebbe showed this even during his imprisonment, when he stood with all his strength and with his head held high: I will not give in. This is the pride passed down from generation to generation. This is “the pride of Yaakov,” and this is true bittul. And it is precisely true bittul that is a Jew’s true firmness: the Jewish people are an eternal people, able to get through all the [unclear].

23:17 And this Jewish strength is called “eisan.” The Midrash says, “A maskil of Eisan the Ezrachite.” Eisan refers to Avraham Avinu, and this is “eisan.” Eisan means strength. It is explained that the word “eisan” has three meanings: [unclear], and an expression of strength. The strength of the Jewish people is the strength of our mesirus nefesh: a Jew stands with complete firmness and is not broken by any obstacles or hindrances. And this is the meaning of mesirus nefesh: even in our time, in a deeper sense, a Jew faces the same test that existed in those days. But the firmness of mesirus nefesh, the essential firmness that comes from essential bittul, is expressed in this pride: I will not give in to all the concealments, all the difficulties. With this “pride of Yaakov,” a Jew walks proudly with all his Judaism, spreads G-dliness in the world, and adds strength to Yiddishkeit. Wherever he goes and wherever he stands, he speaks words of Torah and conveys matters of Torah and mitzvos. This path will bring us out of all the concealments of galus, and it is what sustains the Jewish people through all the harsh exiles. And very soon we will see the complete Geulah through Moshiach Tzidkeinu, and from the redemption of 12 Tammuz we will proceed to the complete Geulah, when what is said in our parsha will be fulfilled: “I see him, but not now; I behold him, but not near. A star shall go forth from Yaakov, and a scepter shall arise from Yisroel,” through the righteous redeemer, speedily in our days, amen.