Children, Life, Livelihood - How Can I Ask in Prayer for Myself While Thinking About the Creator?! | Rabbi Asher Perkesh

00:00 We daven the Amidah three times a day, sometimes four times, and five times on Yom Kippur. There seems to be a contradiction in the Amidah. How do we understand it? We’re so used to it that we may not even notice the contradiction. But if we stop and think, it’s an interesting one. On the one hand, what is prayer? A person stands before the King of kings, Hakadosh Boruch Hu. We see in the Mishnah, in the Gemara in Tractate Berachos, and in the laws of prayer how much preparation is required, how a Jew must prepare and how he must stand during Shemoneh Esrei: with reverence, with a sense of shame, with utter self-nullification. There are laws about standing still and remaining silent during prayer, not looking to the sides or signaling with one’s eyes, and so on. So many laws, with all their details, govern how a Jew must stand before the King of kings, Hakadosh Boruch Hu, during the Amidah. As the Mishnah says, “One should only stand to pray in a solemn frame of mind.” A solemn frame of mind means humility, as Rashi explains—the humility of prayer. On the other hand, when we look at what we talk about in prayer, at the content of our prayers, we see just the opposite. Throughout the prayer, we’re focused on ourselves and our requests: what we need, what we lack. We speak about healing—“Heal us, Hashem our G-d”—and ask for a livelihood in “Bless us.” We ask Hakadosh Boruch Hu to give us material things, food, sustenance, health, and to hear our prayers. And of course, each of us starts getting into the details of our own needs. We remember all sorts of things involving our children, our wife, our home, our extended family, and other things in the world. We also pray about the troubles happening

02:15 in the world, asking Hakadosh Boruch Hu to save us and that we should finally merit the complete Geulah. There, too, we’re talking about ourselves, our requests, and how much we suffer. Even with the spiritual requests in prayer, ultimately we’re still focused on ourselves the whole time. We ask Hashem to forgive our sins and to give us wisdom, understanding, and knowledge so that we can understand and grasp things. In the end, the whole prayer revolves around ourselves. How do these two things go together? You stand before the King; you’re meant to be filled with reverence and complete self-nullification. If we really think about what it means to stand before the King—especially in light of what we’ve already discussed about prayer, as Chassidus explains it—we see that prayer isn’t just about asking for our needs. At its heart is the idea of joining things together, like joining pieces of earthenware. As Chassidus explains, the word for prayer is related to “I have been bound together”: connection, cleaving, union. It’s a moment when a Jew becomes united with Hakadosh Boruch Hu. So the question arises: How can I, at a moment of self-nullification, cleaving, and union with Hakadosh Boruch Hu, stand there and ask, “Hashem, give me—give me food, give me sustenance, give me clothes, give me a home, give me a wife and children, give me good things. I’m missing this; I’m missing something here and something there”? Where am I standing in all this? This question cries out every single day during the Amidah. It is the highest prayer. As we said, and particularly as Chassidus explains, prayer is a ladder: you climb from level to level, from rung to rung, and with each part of the prayer you rise higher. We say Pesukei Dezimrah, the blessings before Shema, and “Hear, O Israel, Hashem is One.” A Jew contemplates Hashem’s greatness and awakens a tremendous love for Hakadosh Boruch Hu: “You shall love Hashem your G-d with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all

04:25 your might.” We reach the greatest cleaving—all as preparation for Shemoneh Esrei, for the moment of the Amidah, when you stand before the King of kings, Hakadosh Boruch Hu, in the deepest and most complete self-nullification. And what happens there? I ask for material things. I ask for things for myself. I start thinking about what I’m missing and what I want, and I say, “Hakadosh Boruch Hu, give me all sorts of things for my life.” How do these two things go together? Today we’ll discuss several fundamental teachings of the Baal Shem Tov and Rabbi the Maggid of Mezritch, among the founders of Chassidus. They’ll give us a new, deeper perspective on the requests we make in prayer. We’ll come to understand that these requests not only do not contradict the cleaving and union of prayer; on the contrary, they emerge as an expression and a result of it. One thing leads to the other. To see this, we’ll need to understand the depth of prayer and of the requests within it as the Baal Shem Tov and his students taught us. At first, these ideas may seem to belong only to people on a high level, to great tzaddikim. But here we’ll see the wonderful thing Chassidus has given us: although these ideas may seem lofty and exalted, suited only to people on an elevated, holy level, they have nevertheless become accessible to everyone. In fact, every Jew has a connection to them. And as we usually do, we’ll begin with an interesting story. It takes place in the time of the Cantonists. As is well known, the Cantonist decree was a terrible one, issued under Nicholas about two hundred years ago. His dream—the dream of every enemy of the Jewish people—was how to erase the Jewish people, G-d forbid, how to erase

06:45 the Jews’ faith. How would he do it? His idea was to take young children away, separate them, tear them from their parents’ homes, and bring them into the army for twenty-five years. They would be enslaved as soldiers in the Russian army, and there their Judaism, their faith, and their Torah would be made to fade from memory, while all kinds of false beliefs would be instilled in them. Little by little, the young people would be cut off—and if there are no kids, there will be no goats; if there are no young people, there will be no adults. That was the decree. That was the dream, the terrible idea he had conceived. In fact, this decree continued for many years in Russia. During those years, there were great Torah leaders and great tzaddikim; it was the time of the Tzemach Tzedek. There was also [unclear][?], and there are many stories of mesirus nefesh connected with all this. At one point, leading rabbis traveled to Petersburg, in Russia, to try to have the decree abolished. They spent several weeks in that part of Russia working toward that goal. It happened that they were there during the High Holidays and davened together with the Cantonists. When Yom Kippur arrived, there were the prayers. These were simple people; the Cantonists were already grown men. As we know, despite all the government’s efforts, that decree did not succeed. Stubborn Jews had absorbed a steadfast faith and pure fear of Heaven from their homes and their parents from an early age, and they held on to them with all their strength. Many stories are known of actual mesirus nefesh. They endured terrible suffering, beatings, and tremendous hardship, yet they stood firm in their faith. Over the years, communities of Cantonists formed. The rabbis davened in one such community that Yom Kippur. When it came time for Ne’ilah, they thought they would honor one of the rabbis by asking him to lead this special prayer—one of the great rabbis would lead it. But no. The Cantonists

09:08 They announced that the Ne’ilah prayer would be led by a special person, the one most suited to lead it. Everyone waited to see who it would be. Suddenly, an older soldier stood up. He looked like a man who had endured every hardship the army could bring, covered in scars and bruises. He looked like someone who had suffered terribly. He went up to lead the prayer and addressed the congregation: “We are about to pray Ne’ilah. In Jewish communities, it is customary to say a few words to awaken people before Ne’ilah. What are we going to say? All of the Jewish people come to the Yom Kippur prayers, come to Ne’ilah, and ask for things. One asks for food, another for a livelihood, another for peace at home. Everyone asks for something. We are simple people. We have no material things, and we don’t lack them, either. What we don’t have, we simply don’t have; and what we do have, we don’t lack. As we stand here for Ne’ilah, the only thing we want to ask for is: ‘Yisgadal veyiskadash shmei rabba’—may His great name be magnified and sanctified.” As great Torah scholars later said, that was the most wonderful, profound, and powerful prayer they had ever experienced. Those words, spoken by a simple Jew who barely knew the shape of a letter in the Torah—he had grown up among the Cantonists and could scarcely read or write—broke through every barrier and every heaven. What did he say? A Jew prays and asks that Hashem’s great name be magnified and sanctified. He asks for nothing for himself. He asks that Hashem’s great name be magnified and sanctified. The question is: How do we, who do have desires and needs, so many things we need and want—when Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur arrive, we certainly don’t forget them, and we ask for them—

11:26 we pray for them—how do we truly connect with a prayer that asks for Hashem’s great name to be magnified and sanctified? How can we want Hakadosh Boruch Hu while also wanting all those material things? This is where the depth of the Baal Shem Tov’s teachings comes in. Rabbi Dov Ber, the Maggid of Mezritch, one of the Baal Shem Tov’s greatest disciples, comments on the teaching of our Sages that we mentioned earlier: “One should stand in prayer only with koved rosh,” a sense of heaviness. The Maggid says that a Jew prays out of “heaviness of the head.” What does that mean? The Maggid explains: “The ‘head’ refers to the Shechinah. The Shechinah is the head. That is our head. The ‘heaviness of the head’ is the pain of the head—the pain of the Shechinah.” Our Sages say that when a Jew suffers, the Shechinah suffers. When a Jew is in pain, the Shechinah is in pain. When a Jew is in exile, the Shechinah is in exile. Everyone knows the famous teaching of our Sages: Wherever the Jewish people were exiled, the Shechinah went with them. So when we suffer in exile, the Shechinah suffers in exile with us. That suffering of the Shechinah is what a Jew prays about. “One should stand in prayer only with heaviness of the head” means that when a Jew stands up to pray, he thinks: Who is the head? The Shechinah. When I lack something, the lack is not only in me. There is a lack above, in the Shechinah. After all, the G-dly soul is literally a part of G-d above. So when a Jew lacks something, his soul lacks it; consequently, that part of G-d above lacks it, and consequently the Shechinah lacks it. All our requests are, in essence, a Jew asking that the will of the Shechinah be fulfilled. What does that mean in simple terms? As we said, these sound like very lofty, elevated ideas. What do they mean for an ordinary Jew? Put another way, even when a Jew asks for material things—for a livelihood, health, success, children, and nachas—a Jew’s

14:04 requests are connected, in essence, to serving Hashem. A Jew’s requests are connected to the sovereignty of Heaven, to the magnification and sanctification of Hashem’s great name. The Jewish people are here in this world. We are Hakadosh Boruch Hu’s people, the people who bring His presence into the world. When a Jew succeeds materially, he can use that success to make a dwelling place for Hakadosh Boruch Hu. A Jew’s soul descended into this world for a special mission. Our mission is to illuminate the world, to make it a dwelling place for Hakadosh Boruch Hu through mitzvos, through Torah study, and through doing someone a favor. Everything a Jew does, he does here in this world. He makes the world a place where Hakadosh Boruch Hu will be revealed. That is really what we say in all our prayers, especially those of Rosh Hashanah: “Reign over the entire world in Your glory.” A Jew crowns Hakadosh Boruch Hu as King over the entire world. In every blessing we say in the Amidah prayer, we say, “Blessed are You, Hashem our G-d, King of the universe.” Why do we say “our G-d”? Hakadosh Boruch Hu is the G-d of the Jew, and through that He becomes King of the universe. A Jew crowns Hakadosh Boruch Hu as King over the entire world. So when a Jew has a livelihood, he uses it to sanctify Hashem’s name. He uses it to help another Jew. He does good in the world. He brings kindness into the world and shares it with others. He sanctifies the name of Heaven. When a Jew has material resources, he uses them to do mitzvos and good deeds. He makes the world a bright world, a world of holiness. When a Jew suffers, when he is distressed, then, G-d forbid, he cannot serve Hashem; he cannot illuminate the world. So, in essence, all

16:11 the things we do in our daily lives, and all our needs, have an inner purpose: that Hashem’s great name be magnified and sanctified. It is to reveal the glory of Heaven. A Jew does not ask for his own sake; he asks so that the Divine purpose can be fulfilled—to make a dwelling place for Hakadosh Boruch Hu. And we do that with every material thing we have in this world. This deeper understanding of prayer is at the heart of a very interesting debate. The Rebbe once spoke about this at a Rosh Hashanah farbrengen—about this very question, this debate: Is prayer about being focused on myself, or is it about the magnification and sanctification of Hashem’s great name? The Rebbe discussed it in connection with Chana’s prayer, which we also read in the Rosh Hashanah haftarah. There was a very interesting exchange there. Chana entered the sanctuary, the Mishkan, and she wept and prayed. Only her lips moved. After all, it is from Chana that we learn how a Jew should stand for the Shemoneh Esrei prayer. She spoke quietly; her voice could not be heard. We learn various laws from Chana’s prayer. Chana stood and prayed to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, and she wept. Eli the Kohen was sitting there. He saw Chana praying and thought she was drunk. He waited until she finished praying, and then asked her, “How long will you be drunk?” What is going on with you? Why are you drunk? What did Chana tell him? I am not drunk. “I have poured out my soul before Hashem. I am a woman of troubled spirit.” What was the disagreement here? What was behind the question and the answer? This is a very deep question. Did Eli the Kohen really suspect that she was drunk? The answer is that when Eli the Kohen saw Chana enter the sanctuary and stand there praying at length, in tears, he saw that she was praying from the depths of her heart.

18:24 He thought to himself: In such a holy place, where one stands before Hakadosh Boruch Hu, there is no place at all to ask for material things. That was precisely Eli the Kohen’s question: “He thought she was drunk.” It does not mean drunk in the physical sense, drunk on wine, but the opposite—“drunk, but not with wine.” In other words, he thought she had lost sight of where she was. When you stand before Hakadosh Boruch Hu, all your desires should fall away. A person does not ask for material things in a place like this; this physical world has no significance at all. So what is this, that you are praying at such length in such a place? It seemed like a kind of intoxication, something not, not, not, not conscious, not a matter of sound judgment—to stand in such a place and ask for such things. And to this Chana explained: On the contrary, “I poured out my soul before Hashem.” My request for a son does not come from a materialistic place. It is not that I want a son for myself, to feel good about myself. I am asking for a son so that he will be a son whom “I have lent to Hashem,” and “he will belong to Hashem all his days.” I am asking for a son who will be a Jew completely devoted to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. As our Sages say, why did she name him Shmuel? So that he would be for the name of Hakadosh Boruch Hu, that his entire life would be for the name of Hakadosh Boruch Hu. And when Eli heard this—that this woman was asking for a son, but what did she see in that son? She saw the honor of Heaven. She saw in it “May His great name be magnified and sanctified”: through this son, Shmuel the prophet, the name of Hakadosh Boruch Hu would be magnified in the world, as indeed happened. So he gave her his blessing and promised her that the following year

20:28 Hashem would grant her request, and so on, as the haftarah goes on to relate. We read this haftarah on the first day of Rosh Hashanah not only because, as our Sages say, Chana was remembered on Rosh Hashanah, which connects it to the day, and for various other reasons that are given. There is also this point: Chana’s story actually describes and explains the story of every one of us on Rosh Hashanah. When a Jew comes on Rosh Hashanah and stands before the King of kings, Hakadosh Boruch Hu, wanting to crown Hakadosh Boruch Hu as King, then within his own soul, in his thoughts, there is also Eli the Kohen’s challenge: “He thought she was drunk.” How can I stand before Hakadosh Boruch Hu now, crown Him as King, stand in awe and with such profound self-nullification to make Hashem King for the entire year—and ask for a livelihood, for material things, and for food? Then comes Chana’s answer, which is the Jew’s own inner answer: our requests for material things come from that very same place. On the contrary, it is because I want to crown Hakadosh Boruch Hu as King. We crown Hakadosh Boruch Hu as King, making Him King over the whole world, by making this world a dwelling place for Him, a dwelling place for Hakadosh Boruch Hu. How do we make a dwelling place for Hakadosh Boruch Hu? When Hakadosh Boruch Hu gives a Jew material things, and the Jew turns those material things into something spiritual. From what he has materially, he makes a dwelling place for Hakadosh Boruch Hu: he uses it to fulfill mitzvos. He serves Hashem, gives tzedakah, sends his children to places where they receive a Torah education, and so on. He uses all these material things for the sake of Heaven, and in this way he magnifies, honors, and sanctifies the name of Heaven in the world. So it is precisely

22:17 through this that the kingship of Hakadosh Boruch Hu is expressed in the world. And this is also what happens every day in our prayers, when we say the Amidah. Precisely in the Amidah, when a Jew reaches the highest level of self-nullification before Hakadosh Boruch Hu and stands before the King in awe and reverence, that is when we make all our requests for material things. So this is the higher meaning of approaching prayer with solemnity: in all our requests, we are asking for the name of Hakadosh Boruch Hu to be revealed and spread throughout the world. This happens specifically through the Jewish people: they receive all the blessings and bounty, and know how to use them to make a dwelling place for Hakadosh Boruch Hu. On this point, Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev has a wonderful explanation of a verse in Parshas Balak. In Parshas Balak we learn of the great blessings that Bilaam gave. Among the verses toward the end of Bilaam’s prophecy—we know that Bilaam wanted, Heaven forbid, to curse the Jewish people, and Hakadosh Boruch Hu turned the curse into a blessing—among his final blessings, he speaks about the time of exile and the coming of Moshiach: “I see him, but not now,” and so on. There is a verse there that says, “And it shall be... Seir, his enemies, shall become a possession, and Yisroel shall act valiantly. Edom shall become a possession, and Seir, his enemies, shall become a possession, and Yisroel shall act valiantly.” Here Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev asks: Why the repetition? “Edom shall become a possession,” and then it repeats, “Seir, his enemies, shall become a possession,” and concludes, “Yisroel shall act valiantly.” Why repeat it? What is the connection between the beginning and the end of the verse? What is it talking about? Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev says that there is a similar verse where the same questions arise. He gives the same explanation for both verses—a truly wonderful explanation that connects with what we have discussed

24:37 until now. In Hallel we say, as it is written: “Not for us, Hashem, not for us, but give glory to Your name, for the sake of Your kindness and Your truth. Why should the nations say, ‘Where now is their G-d?’ Our G-d is in the heavens.” And the verses continue. There, too, we say, “Not for us, Hashem, not for us,” repeating it twice. Why twice? “Not for us, Hashem, not for us.” Once would be enough. How does it continue? “But give glory to Your name.” “Why should the nations say, ‘Where now is their G-d?’ Our G-d is in the heavens.” How do these verses follow one another? The Berditchever says: When it comes to a Jew and material things, we know what our Sages say: Hakadosh Boruch Hu gave this world to Esav and the World to Come to Yaakov. This appears in the Midrash in connection with the struggle between Yaakov and Esav: “The children struggled within her.” When Yaakov and Esav were in the womb and struggled, they were fighting over the inheritance of the two worlds. It was then said that Hakadosh Boruch Hu gave this world to Esav and the World to Come to Yaakov. So if a Jew lives with limited means in this world and lacks various things, it is because this is not really his world. Hakadosh Boruch Hu gave the Jew the World to Come; this world belongs to Esav. Now, if a non-Jew thinks that a Jew lives with limited means in this world because this world does not belong to him—his world is the World to Come—that in itself is still not a problem; that is all right. The problem is when the non-Jew looks down on the Jew and says to him, “You do not have a good life in this world because Hakadosh Boruch Hu does not know how to give you one.” He begins speaking against Hakadosh Boruch Hu, against the Creator, against, against Hakadosh Boruch Hu, and then it becomes a serious problem. That is why the Jews say to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, “Not for us, Hashem”—we do not deserve it, not

26:53 for us. That is our argument, but not for our sake—for Your name’s sake: “Why should the nations say, ‘Where is their G-d?’” The nations see a Jew living in this world under constraint and hardship. They do not say, “Hashem is saving the World to Come for the Jews.” They say, “Where is their G-d?” They show contempt for the Creator, for Hashem. So for Your sake, You need to give them abundance—not for our sake, but for Yours, to reveal the glory of Heaven and show the nations how Hashem gives His children, the Jewish people, everything. Do it for the glory of Heaven. He says the same thing about this verse. It says, “Edom shall become a possession”—the Jewish people will inherit Edom. That means they will inherit in this world too. Why? He answers: “Seir, his enemies, shall become a possession,” because Seir are enemies of Israel. If they saw things as we said, as something Hashem ordained, they would honor the Jewish people and honor Hashem. But because Seir are His enemies—enemies of Israel are enemies of Hashem—“Israel shall act valiantly.” For that reason alone, Hashem should give every Jew wealth, abundance, and every material good in ample measure, just to show the whole world how Hashem loves the Jewish people. This, then, is the point when we speak about prayer and come to it in daily life. If we understand this point, then our prayers—even the requests a Jew makes for his needs—are connected to, and arise from, that same place of accepting Hashem as King. So precisely during Shemoneh Esrei, when I stand before the King of kings,

28:59 Hashem, the Jew becomes aware that all his requests and needs—for health, livelihood, abundance, children, and wealth—are so that His great name should be magnified and sanctified. Now someone might say, “Wait, I’m not on that level. I ask for material things because I want a good life. I’m not at such a lofty level that I feel everything I do is only for the glory of Heaven.” Here the Baal Shem Tov has a wonderful teaching that sheds light on this and answers that concern too. The Baal Shem Tov speaks about the verse, “Hungry and thirsty, their soul fainted within them,” a verse in Tehillim 107. What does this verse mean? The simple meaning is that when a person is hungry and thirsty, “their soul fainted within them.” When a person is hungry, the commentaries explain, it is as though the soul is wrapped up in that hunger, withdrawn into itself, as though it has contracted. But the Baal Shem Tov says something else. Based on what the Arizal revealed to us, he says that every material thing in the world contains a Divine spark, Divine vitality that gives it life. When a person eats food, wears clothing, or uses anything material in this world, it is not really about the material aspect of the thing, but about its Divine spark. The soul wants to draw vitality from the Divine power within material things. When a Jew eats food for the sake of Heaven, he elevates the spark within it and makes it a vessel for holiness. And this is what gives a Jew all those material things. When a Jew engages with this world, he elevates the sparks and reconnects them with their root and source. This is why

31:09 the soul descended into this world: to reveal the Divine spark in every material thing and reconnect it with its source. The Baal Shem Tov says: “Hungry and thirsty.” Sometimes a person feels hungry and thinks he is hungry simply because he wants to eat. He is thirsty and wants to drink. But no: “Their soul fainted within them.” It is the G-dly soul that is clothed in this hunger and thirst. I think it is ordinary hunger and thirst, but in truth the soul is searching for the spark there. That is what makes a person feel hungry and thirsty: the soul wants to receive that Divine vitality and connect with the Divine power within material things. Then, with that strength, he will serve Hashem, study Torah, daven, or do a favor for another Jew—with the strength he receives from the food, from the material thing he has used. The same applies, then, to a Jew’s prayer. Even a simple Jew, when he comes to daven and asks for healing, livelihood, children, and material things, feels at that moment only their material aspect. But that is only on the outside. Deep down, every Jew wants what Hashem wants. As the Rambam famously says, a Jew wants to fulfill Hashem’s will. Every Jew wants Hashem’s purpose in creating the world to be fulfilled. Whatever the Creator wants, a Jew wants too. So even when a Jew prays for material things, his true, innermost desire is for what Hashem wants: that Hashem should have a dwelling place here below in this world.

33:04 From there, too, comes a Jew’s desire for all his material needs: so that ultimately he can use them to build a dwelling place for Hashem and reveal the glory of Heaven in the world. When we approach prayer with this perspective, it gives a Jew the sense that even his personal requests in prayer, whether for material or spiritual needs, serve that purpose. As the Alter Rebbe said, Hashem gives a Jew material things, and the Jew turns those material things into spirituality. Hashem gives a Jew material abundance, and the Jew turns that abundance into spiritual abundance and reveals the glory of Heaven in the world. Through this, His great name will be magnified and sanctified, until, soon in our days, we merit the complete Geulah through our righteous Moshiach, when the whole world will fulfill, “Then I will turn the peoples to a pure language,” “to serve Him all together,” speedily in our days. Amen.