Parshas Chayei Sarah - A Night Vision of the Frierdiker Rebbe, n"e - Rivkah's Pitcher and the Teaching of Moshiach

00:00 Eighty years ago, in 5705, during World War II, the Frierdiker Rebbe had already been in America for about five years. Around that time he became very ill. It was, I believe, toward the end of Cheshvan, around Kislev of 5705. The Frierdiker Rebbe was gravely ill. He suffered a heart attack and was truly in danger of losing his life. But through great miracles and prayers, and so on, after more than a month had passed, he gradually came out of danger. And, thank G-d, he later recovered and lived another five years, until Yud Shvat. There is a written account that was discovered only in recent years. The Rebbe wrote it down, copying things the Frierdiker Rebbe had written during those days. The account is from Kislev, in the midst of that difficult period when the Frierdiker Rebbe was confined to bed. He writes that he had a vision at night and wanted to put it in writing so it would remain and not be forgotten. He relates that on Tuesday, 12 Kislev, his grandfather, the Rebbe Maharash; his father, the Rebbe Rashab; and his other grandfather, his mother’s father, the Rebbe of Ovrutch, entered his room. Reb Yosef Yitzchok, the Frierdiker Rebbe, was named after

01:56 the Rebbe of Ovrutch, who was a son of the Tzemach Tzedek and a brother of the Rebbe Maharash. So there in his room were the Rebbe Maharash, his grandfather; his other grandfather, the Rebbe of Ovrutch; and his father, the Rebbe Rashab. They had all come. His father, he relates, was happy and in high spirits, while his grandfather was serious. The Rebbe Maharash began to share words of Torah. He said, “Today I studied the verse,” and repeated the verse from Parshas Chayei Sarah: “The servant took ten camels from his master’s camels.” And he went “to the well of water.” He interpreted the verse according to Chassidus. He explained that the word “camels,” gemalim, is related to vayigamel, a word connected with those being raised and educated. He said that, spiritually, the camels represent children, students, those being educated. “Camels from his master’s camels,” he explained, means that there are those educated by Avraham Avinu, and there are “camels from the camels”—those educated by the ones he educated. These are the students of Avraham Avinu’s students. So “the servant took camels from his master’s camels” refers to those educated by the students of the tzaddik, Avraham Avinu. And where did he go with them? He went with them “to the well of water.” He explained that “water” alludes to Torah, while “the well of water” is a spring, representing the seventy facets of the Torah. Ayin means a spring, and ayin is also the letter whose numerical value is seventy. He explained that “the well of water” refers to

03:48 the seventy facets of the Torah, and he revealed to them the concept of the Torah’s seventy facets. The verse goes on to say, “The daughters of the men of the city came out to draw water”—these are the souls. “The daughters of the men of the city” alludes to souls. Among the souls in this world are “the daughters of the men of the city” who come out to draw water, but they have no vessels. It does not say that they had jugs. In other words, these are souls that want to receive the inner dimension of the Torah, but lack the vessel for it. Rivkah’s distinction, by contrast, is that she went with “her jug on her shoulder.” She brought a jug with her, representing the vessels. And through “her jug on her shoulder,” the verse “she went down to the spring” was fulfilled: she entered into the innermost depths of “the spring”—not only the seventy facets, but the inner dimension of those seventy facets. She revealed the depth of the Torah’s inner dimension, “the spring,” the inner depth of the Torah’s seventy facets. And here he explained that this reveals how the inner dimension of the Torah discloses the virtue of the physical: that it is precisely from the physicality of this material world that we make a dwelling place for Hakadosh Boruch Hu. This is the whole story the Torah tells us about Avraham Avinu. Of Avraham Avinu, the verse says, “He planted an eshel in Be’er Sheva and called there upon the name of Hashem, the G-d of the world”—Avraham Avinu made G-dliness known in the world. “The G-d of the world,” as he explains here,

05:19 means G-dliness and the world: the world and G-dliness are entirely one. Avraham Avinu revealed that the physical world is a dwelling place, a place for G-dliness; he revealed that the world has a purpose—to make the physical into a vessel for G-dliness. And that is the continuation of the entire story: he sent Eliezer to the well of water to reveal and prepare the students and their students, until Rivkah’s generation would come and reveal the inner dimension of the Torah. The inner dimension of the Torah reveals the virtue of the physical—how we make the physical into a dwelling place for the Creator. That was, more or less, the central point of the words of Torah spoken by the Rebbe Maharash. Following this, the Rebbe of Ruzhin, the grandfather, began to share words of Torah he had learned in Gan Eden. He studied the verse “In the beginning, G-d created the heavens and the earth,” and explained that the verse speaks of two kinds of souls: some are on the level of heaven, and others are on the level of earth. These are two kinds of Torah scholars. For the purpose of Torah scholars is to study Torah, but even in this there are two kinds. There is the level of heaven: as mentioned, water is Torah, and shamayim, “heaven,” can be read sham mayim, “water is there”—meaning that they are united with the Torah; the Torah is united with them, and they are united with the Torah. They are joined with the Torah in an inward union because they study Torah with

06:48 the proper intention. Then the Torah carries them and they carry the Torah, and they become one with the Torah and with G-dliness. That is the level of heaven. But there is also the level of earth. Eretz, “earth,” is related to ratz, “running”—a person running in a panic. He studies Torah wildly, in a rush, running about and seeking to develop new insights, but he does not study Torah with the proper calm, with the proper self-nullification. Of this it is said: “And the earth was unformed and empty, with darkness upon the face of the deep.” When a person studies Torah with a sense of self, and all he seeks is to produce his own new insights and arm himself with a Rambam and a Gemara from here and there—that is “unformed and empty, with darkness upon the face of the deep.” That is the aspect of earth. He went on to say: But there is a remedy, there is a cure. The cure is “the spirit of G-d hovered over the face of the waters.” The Midrash says, “This is the spirit of Moshiach.” When the spirit of Moshiach comes, “hovering over the face of the waters,” it brings the cure. And at the end of the exile, when Moshiach Tzidkeinu will be the cure for [unclear], he will heal them. For there are several kinds of healing. There is healing that requires [unclear], and there is healing with a small amount of medicine, but

08:15 this is a cure that changes things at their very foundation, transforming and healing them completely. And this is the healing of [unclear] in every generation, which is the spirit of Moshiach, bringing healing to the world. Then—as the Frierdiker Rebbe related—the Rebbe Rashab added that when a simple Jew carries a jug, a cup of milk, to a chossid who davens and studies Chassidus, and sighs and says to himself, “Ah, why am I not like that? Why don’t I daven that way?”—with that sigh he opens [unclear] doors. Afterward, all the Rebbes blessed the Frierdiker Rebbe and wished that this would be connected with his recovery. That was the content of the vision the Frierdiker Rebbe wrote down [unclear]. And the central point, as explained and alluded to here, is the avodah needed to prepare for the coming of Moshiach Tzidkeinu. That is, when we look at Parshas Chayei Sarah, which tells of the match between Yitzchok and Rivkah, we see that the whole story is told at length: “Avraham was old, advanced in years, and Hashem had blessed Avraham in everything.” And how Avraham

09:56 Avinu calls Eliezer and sends him, with all the details of his mission and everything that happened. The Torah goes on at such length about every detail of this mission, and everyone asks why. As Rashi quotes: “Rabbi Acha said: The conversation of the servants of the Patriarchs is more precious than the Torah of their children.” Why all this length, all these details the Torah recounts in the story of Yitzchok and Rivkah’s marriage? The explanation is that, inwardly, the story of Yitzchok and Rivkah prepares the world for the coming of Moshiach Tzidkeinu. There is the well-known explanation the Alter Rebbe gives in Likkutei Torah, in Parshas Vezos Haberachah. There, at the end of Likkutei Torah, the Alter Rebbe explains that the Torah tells the story of Yitzchok and Rivkah at such length because the union of Yitzchok and Rivkah is the ultimate purpose of creation, the purpose of Torah and mitzvos throughout all the generations. He explains that Yitzchok is a metaphor and an allusion to the soul, while Rivkah is a metaphor for the body. Yitzchok was Avraham’s son, with all that Yitzchok represents. The soul descends here below. Rivkah is “like a rose among thorns”; she grew up in Charan, a place of kelipos, the sitra achra, physicality and materiality. And Rivkah is brought out from there. Yes, it is like the soul descending here below, taking Rivkah, bringing the soul out and raising it up, and through the union

11:24 of Yitzchak and Rivkah—this is the union of the soul and the body, which began at the Giving of the Torah. At the Giving of the Torah, the work of connecting the world with G-dliness began. As the Midrash says, before the Giving of the Torah, the upper realms remained above and the lower realms remained below. In other words, the physical was physical and the spiritual was spiritual. There was “The heavens are the heavens of Hashem, but the earth He gave to mankind”—two separate worlds. This is what the story of Yitzchak and Rivkah came to accomplish; that is where the union began. That is why the preparations are described at such length: Avraham Avinu sent Eliezer with the camels, and there are all the details of what happened at the well, to express what was new about the Giving of the Torah. Chassidus explains that all these details have significance. For example, Rivkah’s pitcher: “and her pitcher was on her shoulder.” The Hebrew word for “her pitcher” alludes to twenty-four—the twenty-four books of Tanach. This is the Torah, with its seventy facets, and the revelation of the inner dimension of Torah. And the words “toward evening” refer to the time when exile arrives. Amid the darkness of exile, when that darkness is intense, with all the concealments of exile and all its trials, we are told that Avraham Avinu, the leader and tzaddik of his generation,

12:55 sent Eliezer with the camels, his master’s camels, and provided all the means needed so that, at the time of “toward evening,” of doubled and redoubled darkness, they could bring Rivkah, “like a rose among the thorns,” out of all the darkness of exile. Moreover, it is precisely through the soul’s descent below and the work of Yitzchak and Rivkah—their union, which Chassidus calls the union of Mah and Ban—that the soul and body, the physical and the spiritual, are united: to reveal the virtue of the physical and make the world a dwelling place for Him. That is the story of the weekly parsha. And here the question arises: Why is it specifically Yitzchak and Rivkah who express the entire purpose? Chassidus explains, and the Rebbe explains here, that Yitzchak’s theme is “G-d has made laughter for me.” Yitzchak’s theme is specifically gevurah. In other words, it is specifically out of darkness, out of severity and constriction, that laughter and delight are revealed. Precisely when we contend with the concealments of the darkness of exile and stand firm within it with mesirus nefesh, we arouse the greatest delight and satisfaction Above. “G-d has made laughter for me.” The greatest laughter and delight come from transforming darkness into light, from subduing the ego, from working amid the darkness of exile, when a person breaks through the darkness and stands firm with mesirus nefesh.

14:21 He will not break. And so the parsha relates that, when this takes place, “Yitzchak went out to meditate in the field toward evening”—the Minchah prayer. Chassidus explains that Minchah is “toward evening”: precisely at a time filled with business, commerce, physical and material concerns, a Jew sets aside all his affairs, leaves his business and stands to daven Minchah. This brings the greatest delight; this is “G-d has made laughter for me.” That is why our Sages say that even Eliyahu was answered only during Minchah, because it is there that the greatest mesirus nefesh is expressed: a Jew leaves all his business and all his affairs and goes to daven Minchah. We see this in our own time as well. On the one hand, trials are intensifying and darkness is growing stronger in the world; nevertheless, a Jew is called upon to stand firm with mesirus nefesh. And it is precisely now that we see a revelation in the world of the inner dimension of Torah, of the Torah’s seventy facets. We see that precisely at the end of the exile, all the secrets and teachings of the inner dimension of Torah have been revealed, to give Jews the strength to get through every trial and prepare for the complete Geulah. And soon we will merit the revelation of the wellsprings of the inner dimension of Torah, the secrets of Moshiach, when, as the Gemara says in Pesachim,

15:42 “They will say to Yitzchak, ‘For you are our father.’” Yitzchak’s virtue will be revealed, as will “G-d has made laughter for me”—the greatest delight that comes from the work done while standing amid the darkness of exile with mesirus nefesh. And then we will indeed merit to see this [unclear] in the true Geulah, with the coming of Moshiach Tzidkeinu.