Chassidus – Meaningful Torah · Episode 37 · 27 Shvat 5784 · 31:14
Increasing in Joy - The Deep Meaning of a Leap Year in Light of Chassidus
Episode description
At first glance, a leap year is a technical solution that bridges the gap between the solar and lunar years and makes it possible for Pesach to fall in the spring. But, as with every detail of our lives, Chassidus reveals the deeper meaning of the leap year, which brings vitality and joy to every Jew. A leap year enables every Jew to repair what they damaged in the past and to add to their efforts with even greater strength and vigor. The sun and the moon symbolize two approaches to serving Hashem that every Jew needs to follow. A leap year, which brings the sun and moon into alignment, teaches us how to combine those approaches. Rabbi Asher Farkash in an uplifting class for the month of Adar, teaching the deeper meaning of a leap year in the light of Chassidus and the Lubavitcher Rebbe’s illuminating explanation of the doubled joy of the months of Adar
Machine translation into English of the automatic Hebrew transcript.
00:00 This year we have two months of Adar, Adar I and Adar II. What exactly is the positive message we can take from the fact that this year, in the Jewish calendar, we have a leap year with two months of Adar? As with everything, Chassidus gives us the lesson, the positive message we can take from it. Because if we talk about why there are two months of Adar, the reason itself is not so positive. And this is where Chassidus comes in: in everything, it finds the point of light, the illuminating, positive message we can take from it. What is the simple reason there are two months of Adar? It has to do with bringing together the solar year and the lunar year, the sun and the moon. We know there are two cycles: the sun’s cycle, which over a year is 365 days plus some additional hours, and the moon’s cycle. The moon has a month, and each month it completes its cycle in about twenty-nine and a half days. Altogether, the twelve lunar months have about 354 days. So there is always an eleven-day difference between the sun’s cycle and the moon’s cycle. The Jewish calendar therefore seeks to bring those two cycles together. On the one hand, the Torah commands us to count months according to the moon. We observe Rosh Chodesh every month, depending on the moon, which is renewed each month. And many other things we do according to it—all the festivals and holidays are set according to the lunar months. On the other hand, the Torah also says that the festivals must follow the solar seasons, particularly the month of Nissan. Pesach has to be in the month of
02:37 spring. “Observe the month of spring,” so that Pesach falls in the spring. So we have to keep track of the sun’s cycle, and that is why our calendar must constantly find a way to bring the solar and lunar years together. Since the solar year has eleven more days than the lunar year, we add a month every few years. That is how we balance the difference between the two calendars, the solar and the lunar. That is essentially the reason for a leap year. Now, this tells us that the root and cause of the whole matter of a leap year is not so positive. Because the story of the sun and moon, as we know from what the Torah tells us in Parshas Bereishis, began with the moon’s complaint. On the fourth day of Creation, Hakadosh Boruch Hu created the sun and the moon, the two great luminaries. They were created together and were both great luminaries. But the moon complained, claiming that two kings cannot share one crown. So Hakadosh Boruch Hu told it, “Go and diminish yourself.” The moon’s diminishment became a kind of punishment. The diminishment of the moon is considered something negative. The moon, as it were, did not accept the situation; it did not want to be on the same level, of the same stature, as the sun. That led to the moon’s diminishment. Particularly according to Kabbalah, it is considered a blemish, a sin, and the root of all sins. To the point that, as the Midrash says, why was a sin offering brought in the Beis Hamikdash every Rosh Chodesh—“one male goat as a sin offering”? The reason is that a kind of sin took place here: the moon was diminished. And the moon, as it were, does not have its light throughout the entire
05:02 month. All of this is considered a blemish. So it turns out that the way we make our calendar today, trying to align the solar and lunar years, ultimately begins with something negative that happened. That is also why many communities have the custom in a leap year to add “atonement for transgression” to the blessings requested for the coming month in the Musaf Amidah. As it were, there is an issue of transgression here, and the whole matter of a leap year is connected with rectifying it. So that is the simple explanation: What is the reason for a leap year and two months of Adar? But as we said, in Chassidus everything takes on a positive meaning and teaches us what we can learn from it and how it gives us strength. How does a person take this matter of a leap year, of having two months of Adar, and gain added strength, added energy, added strength in serving Hashem? That is what we will discuss in today’s class. First, we will explain what we can learn from the fact that the sun and moon come together in a certain way in this month. In other words, the lunar year catches up and comes into alignment with the solar year. What does this joining of the sun and moon symbolize in our lives, in serving Hashem? We will also talk specifically about why it happens in Adar. What is special about the month of Adar in particular? What positive message can we learn, especially in our times, from the month of Adar being a month of joy, and from our ability to extend that month of joy? Our Sages say—the Gemara says: “When Adar begins,
07:35 we increase in joy.” The Gemara in tractate Taanis tells us: “When Adar begins, we increase in joy.” So this year we can increase in joy for two months. And here too there is a wonderful, special message that the Rebbe taught us: what we should take from this, what we can learn, and what strength we receive from the special fact that this year we merit to have two months of Adar. First of all, if we look generally at the point we discussed, what actually happens in a leap year? The very fact that a shortfall can be made up is already a very important, very positive message for every one of us in our lives. If we look at the sun and moon, we see that the sun is generally always the same. Its course is very steady and constant, without changes. It always follows the same course of approximately twenty-four hours a day; its cycle is regular. The sun itself does not change either; it is always the same. Generally speaking, the sun symbolizes constancy, an unchanging, steady course. The moon, by contrast, is the opposite. It has days of light and days of darkness. At the beginning of the month, the moon appears and grows larger and larger until the fifteenth, when its circle is at its fullest. Then it begins to lose that fullness again, until the eve of Rosh Chodesh, when it disappears completely. There is deep darkness, no moon, and then it begins to renew itself once more. So if we look at our own lives, the moon symbolizes those times when we are rising and those times when we are falling. The sun symbolizes the Jew whose service of Hashem
09:58 Constant. That is how a person generally goes about his daily life. He gets up in the morning, davens, learns, serves Hashem, and lives his life in a very regular way. Every day is the same, and every day he follows the Shulchan Aruch. Every day he serves Hashem and does what is incumbent upon him. That is the sun. The moon represents a person who goes through changes. Sometimes he is on the rise, sometimes he is in decline, and sometimes he is in darkness. Suddenly I feel that things aren’t going well, that I’m stuck. Instead of rising higher, I feel that I’m falling, that I’m moving backward. And here comes the important message of a leap year: a person has the ability to repair and make up for what is missing. If there has been a period like that in our lives—and it happens to every one of us; sometimes we are like the sun and sometimes like the moon—if we are going through changes, through ups and downs, and right now I’m in a downturn, the leap year comes with a message: a person must not, G-d forbid, fall into despair or depression, or think, “That’s it. This is who I am, and this is how I’ll stay.” Instead, we should draw strength from the leap year. This year, and particularly when the month of Adar arrives, I understand that this month was given to us especially to make up for what is missing, to make up for what has gone by. I may not have done something not just recently, but over two or three years, depending on the year. Sometimes there is a leap year every three years, and sometimes even after just two. In other words, even if I’ve fallen behind over two years, and there are things
12:11 I didn’t do, or things I didn’t do properly, Adar I arrives this year and tells us: now you have an opportunity to make up for what is missing. And not only to make up for it. If we pay attention, we’ll see that often this month does more than make up the difference: it actually adds days. We move ahead. By the reckoning, in certain years, adding an entire month brings the lunar year ahead of the solar year. As is known from the laws of sanctifying the new month, it takes a cycle of nineteen years for the sun and moon to come back into exact alignment. Sometimes the lunar year is a few days ahead and sometimes a few days behind, until they reach complete alignment, and that takes nineteen years. But in the meantime, the lunar year sometimes moves even farther ahead than the solar year. This shows us the wonderful power of teshuvah, and that is the positive message we take from a leap year. The power of teshuvah is connected to what we said earlier. According to what we explained from the Midrash and the Zohar, the root of sins began with the moon’s diminishment, even before the sin of the Tree of Knowledge. The sin of the Tree of Knowledge was humanity’s first sin, on the sixth day of creation, as the Torah tells us. But before that came what is considered the moon’s failing: its complaints, which led to its diminishment. From that failing came, in turn, the sin of the Tree of Knowledge and all other sins. So the point here is that the leap year teaches us about the power of teshuvah. The Gemara says in Tractate Shabbos: “In the place where baalei teshuvah stand, even
14:21 complete tzaddikim cannot stand.” The point is that teshuvah elevates a person. It gives him the strength to rise to a place even higher than that of a tzaddik. And we see this in Adar: we now have two months of Adar. We have the ability to make up for what is missing. We are always given time to make up for what we lack, and not only that, but to rise to an even higher level. That is one point. The second point we learn from the joining of the solar and lunar years concerns a Jew’s daily life. If we think about it, we’ll notice something very interesting. In Jewish life, in serving Hashem and living a life of Torah and mitzvos, there is also an aspect of the sun and an aspect of the moon. On the one hand, there are parts of our service of Hashem that are like the sun: constant, enduring, fixed, always the same—and that is how they should be. There are many things in a Jew’s daily life that do not change, whether it is a weekday, Shabbos, or a Yom Tov. A Jew does them regularly. Every morning, a Jew gets up and says Modeh Ani. He washes his hands. He needs to daven and learn. Some things in a Jew’s daily life are fixed; in those things, we are like the sun. And when we educate a child, we should also teach our children things that do not change. Once you have invested the effort, explained, educated, and taught a child how to behave, that behavior should become constant, enduring, fixed, without change—like the sun. On the other hand, if a person remains only with fixed things, he is not fulfilling his role in life. We are certainly meant to change. A person needs motivation and change, to rise higher each time and to grow. That is the other side of a person. A person is not confined to some fixed box, always the same. Quite the opposite: one day he gets up with a desire to put more into something, to invest more in it. He grows, he develops, he goes from strength to strength. Change is essential. A person is alive, not inanimate, and being alive means changing. He comes and goes, gets up, moves, rises and falls. That also means that sometimes change includes a decline. Decline is part of the reality of human life—a descent for the sake of an ascent, of course, as we see in all sorts of things in daily life. A person works hard all day; night comes, and he goes to sleep. He rests and is no longer active. During the day he acts, accomplishes, creates, and at night he goes to sleep. At first glance, all those hours of sleep are a kind of waste of time. You could look at it that way, since he isn’t doing anything; it seems like a certain decline. But we understand that he is actually gaining strength for a new day, when he will make a fresh start. The same is true of the events of life. There are periods when we are rising and periods when we are declining, because change is part of a person’s nature. So that is what we see here: the moon and the sun. For a person’s service of Hashem to be as it should, he needs
16:40 his role in life. We are absolutely meant to change. A person needs motivation, changes, to keep rising higher and changing. And דווקא here we see the other side of a person: a person isn’t stuck in some fixed box, always the same. Quite the opposite. A person needs to be able to get up one day and feel inspired, to put more into something, to invest more in it. He grows, he develops, he goes from strength to strength. Change is necessary. A person is alive; he isn’t an inanimate object. And being alive means change. He comes and goes, gets up and moves, rises and falls. That also means that sometimes change includes a downturn. The idea of a downturn is part of the reality of human life—a descent for the sake of an ascent, of course, as we see in all sorts of things in everyday life. A person works hard all day; night comes, and he goes to sleep. He rests, and he’s no longer doing anything. During the day he’s active, working, creating, and at night he goes to sleep. At first glance, all those hours of sleep are a kind of waste of time. You could look at it that way, because he isn’t doing anything. It seems like a certain decline. But we understand that, in fact, he’s gaining strength for the new day, when he’ll make a fresh start. The same thing happens with the events of life: there are periods when we’re more on the rise and periods when we’re more in decline, because change is part of what a person is. So that’s what we see here: there’s the moon and there’s the sun. For a person’s service of Hashem to be as it should, he needs
18:46 Really, to connect them—that is what we mean by a leap year: connecting the two things. What does it mean to connect them? On the face of it, they are two completely different things. In certain areas, I am like the sun; in others, I am like the moon. They seem separate. There are things I do the same way every single day, like the sun. And there are things in which I am like the moon, growing and changing. The period we are entering—a leap year, with an extra month of Adar that connects the sun and the moon—teaches us that they must influence each other. The influence has to go both ways: the sun influences the moon, and the moon influences the sun. In everyday life, this means that even in the things we do regularly, we should bring in an element of the moon—renewal. Take davening, for example. A person davens every day. Every day I come to shul, put on tefillin, and say the words of the prayers. Every day we daven Shacharis, Minchah, and Maariv. These are fixed parts of every day. But even into something you do regularly, day after day, you can bring renewal, fresh vitality, freshness, depth. The text may be the same; the words are the same. But you can focus on connecting to those words and say them from a much deeper place within yourself. That is change even within the things you do regularly. And from the other direction, even in the areas where there is change and growth, things that are not fixed day after day—things that are like the moon—there must also be an element of the sun. In other words, if you have made some change in your life, don’t let that change slip away. Take those changes, that growth, those things, and connect with them too
21:01 from a deep place, a steady place, an inner place, so that they become part of who I am, part of my daily life. These are some of the lessons, at least, that we can learn and work on, especially as we enter Adar I. It teaches us how a Jew has the power to correct the past and also to add to it—not just to make things right, but to rise even higher. The power of teshuvah, and the connection between these two qualities—the quality of the sun and the quality of the moon—so that they overlap and each influences the other. And here we come to the special subject of joy. It is specifically in Adar that we make this change, this addition of a second Adar. The simple reason we do it in Adar—one of the main reasons—is that Adar is the last month of the year’s cycle of months. The Torah says that Nissan is the first month: “This month shall be for you the first of months.” Nissan is the first month, and Adar, month number twelve, is the last. It brings us to the month of spring. From Adar we enter the month of spring. And since the whole basis for making a leap year is to ensure that Pesach falls in the spring, so that we can observe the mitzvah of Pesach at its proper time, the Sages established that the extra month be added just before Pesach, enabling us to reach the spring at the right time. That is the simple explanation. But when we look at it more closely, there is something wonderful here: it is specifically Adar that has the possibility of being doubled, and this year we will have two months of Adar. As we said earlier, our Sages teach, “When Adar begins, we increase in joy.” Adar is a month of joy. As for why Adar is a month of joy, the Gemara
23:17 says, and Rashi explains, that it is because of the miracles that happened in that month—the festival of Purim—and because we are close to Pesach. Rashi says: “Purim and Pesach.” Since Pesach comes soon after Purim, we enter a time of joy. So when Adar begins, we increase in joy. But that raises a question: What exactly is Pesach doing here? Pesach is in Nissan, not Adar. Why do we say that when Adar begins, we increase in joy? Rashi says that these are days of joy for the Jewish people: Purim and Pesach. How does Pesach enter into the month of Adar? The simple explanation, as we said, is that they are close together: Purim is close to Pesach. But the more inward, deeper explanation is based on what the Gemara says. When the wicked Haman cast the lot—Purim, after all, is named for the pur, the lot—he wanted to destroy, kill, and annihilate all the Jews. When the lot fell in Adar, Haman rejoiced in his heart. Why was he happy? Because Moshe Rabbeinu had died in Adar. So he said: This is a month with negative energy. Moshe Rabbeinu died in this month, so he would be able to carry out his plot, G-d forbid, to kill and destroy the entire Jewish people. A heavenly voice went forth and said, “Wicked man! You did not know that Moshe Rabbeinu did not only die in Adar—Moshe Rabbeinu was born in Adar.” And because Moshe Rabbeinu was born in Adar, on the contrary, that turns the day of his passing into a joyous day as well. The seventh of Adar has joy within it, and it is precisely through this that salvation will come. So if we consider what there is about Adar that leads us to say, “When Adar begins, we increase in joy,” even before the miracle of Purim, it is that this is the month in which the redeemer of the Jewish people was born. Moshe Rabbeinu was born in Adar. Because Moshe Rabbeinu was born
25:33 in Adar, that made this month a positive one. It was a month in which not only was Haman unable to carry out what he wanted to do, G-d forbid, but the opposite happened. It was specifically this month that “was transformed for them from sorrow to joy and from mourning to Yom Tov.” And that happened specifically in Adar. That is what Rashi is telling us when he says that Adar is a joyous month because of the miracles of Purim and Pesach. By Pesach, he does not mean the festival of Pesach itself. He means Moshe Rabbeinu. It was through Moshe Rabbeinu that both of these miracles took place. Moshe Rabbeinu brought about the miracles of the Exodus from Egypt—Pesach. And through Moshe Rabbeinu, the miracle of Purim also took place, making this month a positive month, a month of joy. Because Adar is such a month, the entire month is positive. That is why, when Adar begins, we do not just wait until Purim. As soon as Adar begins, we increase in joy. From this, something wonderful emerges. Now that we understand that the special power of Adar is connected to the birth of Moshe Rabbeinu, his birth is connected to Adar I as well, not only to Adar II. In the Gemara, in Tractate Sotah, there are two opinions about when Moshe Rabbeinu was born: whether he was born in Adar I or Adar II. There are differing views in halachah as well. The Magen Avraham comments on this in section 686, and there are several opinions about which seventh of Adar is the primary one. According to many opinions, the primary significance of the seventh of Adar is specifically in Adar I. So when we say, “When Adar begins, we increase in joy,” we do not mean only Adar II. Already in Adar I, when, with Hashem’s help, we will also mark the seventh of Adar, the day of the birth and passing of
27:43 Moshe Rabbeinu. So already from Adar I, throughout this whole month—throughout both of these months, Adar I and Adar II—the saying “When Adar begins, we increase in joy” applies. And it is said of them that the Jewish people’s mazal in Adar is stronger. That is how the Gemara puts it: bari mazalei—a Jew’s mazal in Adar is much stronger. And here we come to something wonderful that the Rebbe spoke about, explaining a special point. What is it about a year like this, with two months of Adar? It is the matter of sixty days. If, as we said, both months are months of joy, then starting from Rosh Chodesh Adar I—30 Shvat is already the first day of Rosh Chodesh Adar I—until the end of Adar II, we have sixty days of joy. There is something about these sixty days of joy, an enormous power in them, that breaks and nullifies any kind of negativity that might exist in the world. We know that in halachah, in the laws of kashrus, there is a concept called “nullified in sixty.” When something forbidden, a forbidden food, falls into permitted food, then in many cases, if there is sixty times as much permitted food as forbidden food, the forbidden food is nullified. Nullified in sixty. This applies to meat and milk and to a number of other laws: when there is sixty times as much as the forbidden substance, it is nullified in sixty. So the Rebbe says this: This year, when we have sixty days of joy, let’s make use of those sixty days and live through them with joy. “When Adar begins, we increase in joy.” The joy of these sixty days has the power to nullify in sixty everything that causes a lack of joy. Unfortunately, we are living through a time when there is much that we need to nullify. There is a lot of darkness, a lot of evil, many things that need to be transformed into light. So this is
30:04 the power we have now as we enter Adar, with two months of Adar and sixty days of joy. Through the power of joy—and each and every person needs to make this decision for themselves—to increase in joy. That itself is the joy. Don’t first look for reasons to be joyful. Simply start acting joyfully; look for ways to be happy, to dance and rejoice. And the joy of these sixty days will nullify all the pockets of darkness in the world and transform them into light. May we truly merit the fulfillment of what is written in the Megillah: that this month was transformed for them from sorrow to joy, from mourning to Yom Tov. May it indeed be a month of true joy, and may we reach the great joy of “the reverse happened”—so that everything those who seek to destroy, kill and annihilate all the Jews, G-d forbid, want will be reversed, and we will have all that the Megillah tells us: “The Jews had light and joy, gladness and honor.” So may it be for us.