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Chassidus – Meaningful Torah · Episode 38 · 4 Adar I 5784 · 28:06

The Day That Set in Motion the Miracle of Purim - 7 Adar in Light of Chassidus

Episode description

Moshe Rabbeinu, called “the choicest of humankind,” is the greatest figure in the history of the Jewish people. His birthday, 7 Adar, brought about the miracle of Purim and made the entire month of Adar “the month that was transformed from sorrow to joy.” 7 Adar is not only a historic day marking Moshe Rabbeinu’s birth and passing—it is the day Moshe Rabbeinu is born within the soul of every Jew, in every generation. His presence exists in every Jew today, giving us the strength to serve Hashem with reverence and joy. A spark of the soul of the one who is “from his waist upward, G-dly” exists within us and reveals the treasure of reverence for Heaven hidden inside us. Rabbi Asher Farkash presents an uplifting class for 7 Adar on the steps we must take to realize the potential Moshe Rabbeinu gives us, as the Alter Rebbe teaches in Tanya

Machine translation into English of the automatic Hebrew transcript.

00:00 7 Adar is the birthday and the day of passing, the yahrzeit, of Moshe Rabbeinu. Hakadosh Boruch Hu completes the years of the righteous to the exact day: “I will fill the number of your days.” As is well known, Moshe Rabbeinu was born on 7 Adar and also passed away on 7 Adar. The Gemara in Tractate Megillah relates that when the wicked Haman cast lots to find the best day to carry out his plot—his plan, G-d forbid, “to destroy, kill, and annihilate all the Jews, from young to old, children and women, in a single day”—the lot fell on the month of Adar. Haman rejoiced in his heart, says the Gemara. Why was he happy? He said, “Oh! Adar is a good month to take revenge on the Jewish people, because this is the month in which the savior of Israel died.” Moshe Rabbeinu passed away on 7 Adar, so Haman took that as a sign that this was a negative time for the Jewish people, and that he could use it to carry out his plot against them. But the Gemara says Haman did not know something: yes, Moshe Rabbeinu died on 7 Adar, but the savior of Israel was also born on 7 Adar. Moshe Rabbeinu’s birth took place then, and the power of that birth is much stronger than his passing. On the contrary, it makes Adar a month of positive energy. Because of 7 Adar, the entire month of Adar is a month of joy. “When Adar begins, we increase in joy.” As soon as Adar arrives, the joy begins and continues throughout the month. But why the whole month? After all, the miracle of Purim took place on just one day. People say: look at Haman’s wickedness. Why did he want to kill all the Jews in one day? Couldn’t he have done

02:10 it over several days, weeks, or months? What was the rush? Achashverosh ruled the entire known world. He had 127 provinces, all under his control. Why did Haman hurry to do it all in one day? He could have done it gradually. So there’s a saying: Haman was so wicked that he knew the Jewish people would ultimately prevail. He knew it would eventually become a holiday. In his wickedness, he didn’t want it to last more than one day. If the Jews were going to turn it into a holiday, at least they shouldn’t have the pleasure of a holiday lasting longer than one day. But what does the Megillah say? “The month.” Just the opposite: all of Adar—“When Adar begins, we increase in joy.” But why, really, the whole month? This Gemara makes it understandable. The reason the month was transformed from grief to joy is not just the particular day on which we celebrate. It is because the entire month is the month in which the savior of Israel was born. In other words, the whole month of Adar is a positive time for the Jewish people because it is the month of his birth. That transforms the entire month. So something wonderful emerges here. The joy of Adar—the Gemara’s statement, “When Adar begins, we increase in joy”—means that the entire month is a month of joy. The Gemara also states that if you have a legal case with a non-Jew, you should schedule it specifically for Adar, when the Jewish people’s mazal is strong and healthy. All of this is because of 7 Adar. So 7 Adar, the birthday and day of passing of Moshe Rabbeinu, is an extraordinarily wonderful day,

04:00 an extraordinarily powerful day. Now, when we look in the works of halachah, we see that according to many halachic authorities, 7 Adar falls in Adar I, the first Adar. That means that when we say, “When Adar begins, we increase in joy,” we don’t have to wait until Adar II. We increase in joy already in the first Adar. Why? Because, according to this view, we observe 7 Adar in the first Adar. This is brought in the Magen Avraham and by a number of other halachic authorities, who cite earlier authorities saying that in a leap year, 7 Adar is observed in Adar I. So the increase in joy begins in Adar I. In fact, when we look at the Gemara in Tractate Sotah, which tells the story of Moshe Rabbeinu’s birth, it seems from the Gemara that he was born in a leap year, in Adar I. There are several opinions there, but according to at least some views, the 7 Adar on which Moshe was born was in Adar I, not Adar II. As for Moshe’s passing, there are several opinions in the Midrashim about when it took place, and some say that it too was in a leap year and that Moshe Rabbeinu passed away in Adar I. In any case, it is clear that the increase in joy begins already in Adar I, because it includes the 7 Adar on which the savior of Israel was born and passed away. That is what gives the month of Adar all its strength, its uniqueness, and its wonderful quality. The joy is connected to our marking Moshe Rabbeinu’s 7 Adar. So today we’ll talk about Moshe Rabbeinu and what he means for our lives, for everyday life. Of course, Moshe Rabbeinu is bound up with the entire Torah: “Remember the Torah of Moshe My servant.” The whole Torah is connected with him. And it’s true that, from the book of Shemos, from the time Moshe Rabbeinu is born, there is hardly a parsha in the Torah in which he isn’t mentioned

06:15 many times. The whole history of the Jewish people revolves around Moshe Rabbeinu. But the problem is that when we hear about him, it sounds too great, too lofty. Moshe Rabbeinu—how can you compare yourself to him? After all, the Gemara says that a person must not even compare himself to Moshe Rabbeinu. Moshe Rabbeinu, the finest of humankind: “No prophet like Moshe ever arose in Israel.” In the laws of vows, there’s even a discussion that a person must not say, as part of a vow, that he wants to be like Moshe Rabbeinu. In other words, Moshe Rabbeinu is regarded as someone exceedingly lofty and exalted. So how can we take 7 Adar, Moshe Rabbeinu’s day, and bring it into our everyday lives? How can we take something from it that we can live with day to day? Here we have the Alter Rebbe’s wonderful explanation in Tanya. The Alter Rebbe devotes an entire chapter to explaining the special connection every Jew has with Moshe Rabbeinu, and that’s what we’ll discuss today: in what way, at what point, do we live with Moshe Rabbeinu in our everyday lives? From the moment I open my eyes in the morning, throughout the twenty-four hours of the day, there is something within a Jew that, thanks to Moshe Rabbeinu, gives us the strength to live with this and bring it into our lives in actual practice. Here the Alter Rebbe cites the Gemara in Tractate Berachos, page 33—a Gemara that, on the face of it, is difficult to understand. The Gemara says: Rabbi Chanina said, “Everything is in the hands of Heaven except the fear of Heaven.”

08:16 Fear of Heaven—who isn’t looking for that? We all want fear of Heaven. Rabbi Chanina says: know that everything comes from Heaven. Hakadosh Boruch Hu gives us everything, bestows everything upon us. But fear of Heaven is something we must attain ourselves. It depends on a person’s choice and effort; we have to work on it. Fine. The Gemara cites the verse, “And now, Israel, what does Hashem your G-d ask of you, other than to fear Hashem your G-d?” Moshe Rabbeinu is in the last days of his life, the days before 7 Adar. This is in the book of Devarim, Parshas Eikev. Eikev was said in the final weeks and days of Moshe’s life on earth. Moshe Rabbeinu says to the Jewish people: “And now”—right now, Jewish people—what does Hashem ask of you? He isn’t asking you for anything major. He is asking you for something very small: “other than to fear Hashem your G-d.” Fear of Heaven. The Gemara asks: Is that a small thing? “Is fear such a small matter?” Is fear of Heaven really so easy to attain? How can you say “other than to fear,” as though it were something small? Everyone knows that fear of Heaven is hard to attain. It takes tremendous effort. If only we had fear of Heaven! We spend our whole lives seeking it. How can it be called a small thing? The Gemara answers: Yes, for Moshe it is a small thing. And here all the commentators ask—for example, the Maharsha and other great commentators—what does this mean? What is the Gemara saying? Where is the answer? Moshe Rabbeinu isn’t speaking to himself; he is speaking to the Jewish people. So how does it help me that for Moshe it is a small thing? Is that why he speaks to us this way? After all, he

10:30 speaks to the Jewish people, and for us this is no small matter; it is extremely difficult. What does it mean? The Maharsha offers an explanation, and other commentators offer explanations too, but we’ll focus on the Alter Rebbe’s wonderful explanation in Tanya, chapters 41 and 42. This is really a foundation of our everyday lives. The Alter Rebbe says this: Know that every Jew, even the simplest Jew, has a spark of Moshe Rabbeinu in his soul. Moshe Rabbeinu is called Raya Mehemna. As we all know, the Zohar calls Moshe Rabbeinu Raya Mehemna in many places—the faithful shepherd, the faithful shepherd of the Jewish people. What does “shepherd” mean? In the physical sense, a shepherd’s job is to provide for the flock, feed and nourish them, take them to pasture, to the fields, and make sure they have something to eat. And Moshe was a shepherd, as in the well-known story in the Book of Shemos. Moshe Rabbeinu was—at first he tended sheep, and afterward he became the shepherd of the Jewish people. He is the one who feeds, provides for, and nourishes them. The Alter Rebbe asks: What does he give every Jew? Every Jew has a spark of Moshe Rabbeinu, and that is the faculty of daas within him—the faculty of daas. According to Kabbalah and the Zohar, Moshe Rabbeinu’s level was that of supernal daas. Let’s explain this in simple terms: daas. The faculty of daas is not what people mean in Hebrew today when they speak of knowledge—facts, information. Daas is not just information. There is chochmah, there is binah, and there is daas. We won’t get into the differences between them now. Let’s go straight to the faculty of daas. Daas means connection, as in “And Adam knew Chava.” That isn’t information. Adam “knew” Chava means he connected with her. Joining together, a bond, marriage—these are an inner, deep connection. “And Adam knew Chava.”

13:00 The faculty of daas is the power in the soul that enables a Jew to connect and bond with Hakadosh Boruch Hu in a very deep, very inward way, as something that is truly part of me. It becomes an essential part of me—the essential bond between a Jew and Hakadosh Boruch Hu. We received this through Moshe Rabbeinu. Moshe Rabbeinu was on the level of supernal daas. His entire being, his whole life, his whole soul, his entire existence was this bond with Hakadosh Boruch Hu. And as the faithful shepherd of the Jewish people, Raya Mehemna, he instilled—and continues to give—every single Jew, in every generation, this spark of Moshe, the faculty of daas within the soul. There is a Moshe Rabbeinu in every generation, meaning the leader of the generation. That is another subject. The Zohar says, “The extension of Moshe is present in every generation.” In every generation there are leaders of the generation, the Torah scholars of that generation, and there is the nasi of the generation, the tzaddik of the generation, who is, in effect, the Moshe Rabbeinu of that generation. That is another matter. Here we are talking about the Moshe Rabbeinu within each of us. There is a spark of Moshe in every Jew, and through that spark we have the faculty of daas within the soul. So this is why they say that fear of Heaven is a small matter. But when we speak of fear of Heaven here, we need to explain—and this is one of the foundations of Tanya—that it does not mean fear of punishment. We are not talking about being afraid of punishment. Fear of punishment is an external kind of fear. A person is afraid for his own flesh, his own skin, for himself. That is not the point here. We don’t need Moshe Rabbeinu’s faculty of daas for that. Nor are we talking here about the higher levels of fear, such as awe of Hashem’s exaltedness or the fear born of shame. There are very, very high levels. That isn’t what we mean either. Here we are talking about the fear that is the very foundation of a Jew’s life

15:20 as a servant of Hashem. The Alter Rebbe calls it fear of the King—fear of the King, kabbolas ol of the Kingdom of Heaven. The well-known Mishnah in the second chapter of Berachos says: A person should first accept upon himself the yoke of the Kingdom of Heaven, and afterward accept upon himself the yoke of the mitzvos. When a Jew rises in the morning and says, “Hear, O Israel, Hashem is our G-d, Hashem is One,” that is accepting the yoke of the Kingdom of Heaven. In fact, even before that, when a Jew opens his eyes, the Shulchan Aruch says in its first section, “I have set Hashem before me always.” At the beginning of the Shulchan Aruch it says: When a Jew opens his eyes in the morning, what should be the first thought that comes into my mind? “I have set Hashem before me always.” Here, the King of kings, Hakadosh Boruch Hu, is standing beside my bed, expecting me, waiting for me. That is the basic fear of Heaven, fear of the King. The Alter Rebbe says that fear of the King is a natural, inner fear engraved in every Jew—in his blood, in his soul. It is in a Jew’s nature not to want to rebel against the King of kings, Hakadosh Boruch Hu. He does not want to be a rebel against the King. I am a servant of Hashem. If I am a servant of Hashem, I do not rebel against the King. And this fear of Heaven is the basis, the foundation, or in the words of Tanya, “the beginning, essence, and root of the service of Hashem.” It is the root of all our service of Hashem. Every Jew has the power to awaken this fear of Heaven as an inheritance from Moshe Rabbeinu. We received it through Moshe’s faculty of daas. And since for Moshe this fear of Heaven is a small matter—for, as we said earlier, fear of the King is the basis, the foundation. Beyond that there are much higher levels: awe of Hashem’s exaltedness, the fear born of shame, an awareness of Hashem’s greatness. The more you learn, the more deeply you contemplate, the more you understand and see the greatness of Hakadosh Boruch Hu—and, of course, Moshe Rabbeinu reached the highest levels—the more you also reach

17:41 much higher levels of fear. Tanya discusses many levels, stages, and layers of fear, including fear on the loftiest levels. There is also a person who serves Hashem out of love, Ahavas Hashem, and there too are many different levels and degrees of love. Here we are saying that for Moshe Rabbeinu, fear of Heaven—this basic fear of accepting the yoke of the Kingdom of Heaven—is the foundation of everything. It is a small matter. And because it is small for Moshe, and every Jew has the daas we received from Moshe Rabbeinu, for us too it is, in essence, a small matter. What does “a small matter” mean? That it is the basis, the foundation, on which we build the entire structure of our service of Hashem. From here, the Alter Rebbe makes a practical demand of us. What are we supposed to do? How do we put this into practice? Fine—fear of Heaven, Moshe Rabbeinu, a small matter. How do we actually do it? The Alter Rebbe explains in Tanya that every Jew must set aside a certain time each day, at the start of the day, to contemplate, to think. Set aside time to think about this very thing. We are not talking about genius, profound analysis, or studying deep concepts in Kabbalah and Chassidus. Just contemplate a few very basic, simple points. First, contemplate the greatness of the King of kings, Hakadosh Boruch Hu, who creates, brings into being, gives life to, and sustains the heavens and the earth. He is present in everything and everywhere. The greatness of the King. Then go further and contemplate how Hakadosh Boruch Hu sets aside all the hosts of heaven and all the higher and lower worlds, and establishes His kingship over His people Israel as a whole, and over me in particular. Hakadosh Boruch Hu is specifically concerned with the Jewish people, and His kingship is over Israel. First and foremost, He is the King of Israel, and from there, afterward

20:04 That is how He becomes King of the world. Where does He focus His kingship? He is King over the Jewish people—and not just over the Jewish people as a whole. Because then I might say: Fine, there is a great nation, there are many good Jews, so I can do whatever I want. What difference does it make? Who cares? No. He is King over each Jew in particular. Hakadosh Boruch Hu cares about every Jew specifically, individually, personally. “For my sake the world was created,” says the Mishnah in Sanhedrin. Every Jew needs to know that the world was created for him—for this particular Jew. Hashem is waiting for our Torah and mitzvos. It is precisely the Torah and mitzvos of each and every person that build the world and make it a dwelling place for Hakadosh Boruch Hu. “For my sake the world was created”—for me personally. That is why the first human being was created alone. Of all creation, the human being is the only one created alone. Why? Because every person is one of a kind. Every Jew—who he is and how he conducts himself—matters to the entire world, to all of reality, and to the whole purpose of creation. Then the Alter Rebbe continues: “And behold, Hashem stands over him.” Hakadosh Boruch Hu is here with me. My service of Hashem matters so much to Him, is so important to Him, that He is here with me. So a Jew needs to know, from the moment he opens his eyes: “And behold, Hashem stands over him.” Hakadosh Boruch Hu is here with me, “watching him and examining his heart and innermost thoughts to see whether he serves Him properly.” This awakens in a Jew the awe of someone standing before the King. That is yirah, the basic fear of Heaven that we all have. And through the power of Moshe Rabbeinu, the faithful shepherd, this is something every Jew can attain, because “the matter is very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to do it.” Every Jew can develop it, reveal

22:06 it, awaken it, and live with it. From the moment I open my eyes in the morning, twenty-four hours a day, it guards me in my thoughts, my speech, and my actions. It helps me conduct myself as a Jew with pride, strength, firmness, and conviction. But alongside the awe there is also tremendous joy. The Alter Rebbe explains this in chapter 33: When a Jew reflects that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is with him every moment, what tremendous joy there is in being together with Hakadosh Boruch Hu in one room, in one place. Imagine being given the opportunity to host the person who matters most to you in your life. Picture someone who, to you, is the most important person of all—someone wonderful, someone extraordinary. And you say: Here, I have been given the privilege and the opportunity to invite this person into my home, to have him live with me, to host him. The King of kings, Hakadosh Boruch Hu, our Father in Heaven, is actually here with me. I have the opportunity to welcome Him into my home, to open my home to Him. When I say a verse of Torah, when I fulfill a mitzvah, I am opening the door and saying: Hakadosh Boruch Hu, I am with You. I want to be with You. There is no greater joy than the joy of being together with the King in one home. So on the one hand there is awe, and on the other, that awe comes together with joy. These are the two verses that are among the foundations of Chassidus. One verse says, “Serve Hashem with awe”—Tehillim, chapter 2. The second says, “Serve Hashem with joy”—Tehillim, chapter 100. Together, they describe the life of a Jew. We receive this from Moshe Rabbeinu. As we come to today, 7 Adar, the day of Moshe Rabbeinu, this is what the Gemara means when it says that “the savior of the Jewish people was born.” Every Jew has the savior of

24:30 the Jewish people, Moshe Rabbeinu, within his soul. There is a wonderful explanation of this Gemara by one of the great tzaddikim among the students of the Baal Shem Tov. Reb Nachum of Chernobyl, one of the great students of the Baal Shem Tov, writes something wonderful in his book Meor Einayim. What does this Gemara mean? The Gemara says that Haman was happy that the savior of the Jewish people had died on 7 Adar. He thought he would therefore be able to carry out his wicked plan. But he did not know that Moshe died on 7 Adar and was also born on 7 Adar. The simple meaning, as we said, is that Moshe Rabbeinu not only died on 7 Adar; he was also born on 7 Adar. So it is precisely Adar that is the most wonderful month, the month of joy. Reb Nachum of Chernobyl offers a deeper meaning: Haman did not know that the moment Moshe Rabbeinu passed away physically, in his body, the savior of the Jewish people was born within each and every Jew. In other words, while Moshe Rabbeinu was alive, he was Moshe Rabbeinu, and he influenced the Jewish people by virtue of being Moshe Rabbeinu. The moment Moshe Rabbeinu passed away, it was not that he had left. He was born anew within every individual Jew. In fact, the Alter Rebbe also brings this in Tanya, in Igeres Hakodesh 27, in the name of the Zohar. He compares Moshe Rabbeinu to the sun: During the day, it shines everywhere, into every corner. When night comes and the sun sets, we no longer see the sun; it is dark. But the stars shine with the sun’s power. The sun continues to shine, reflected in the stars. The Alter Rebbe says, citing the Zohar: The entire Jewish people, six hundred thousand stars, shine even in times of darkness through the power of Moshe Rabbeinu. This is the meaning: Moshe Rabbeinu passed away on 7 Adar, but on the very day he passed away, he

26:48 was born within every Jew. We are all stars of the heavens, and we shine in the darkness of the night. That is our power to shine even during the exile, when we find ourselves in moments of darkness. These are the last moments of exile, when the darkness grows and intensifies, and it is so strong in the world. Nevertheless, a Jew is a star, with the power to shine like the stars of the heavens within that darkness, bringing the light of Moshe Rabbeinu—both the fear of Heaven and the great joy. Through the power of Moshe Rabbeinu, we too will illuminate the world, until the light of Moshiach’s revelation. As is known, the Zohar says that Moshe’s soul will be enclothed in the soul of Moshiach. Moshe has a numerical value of 345. Add thirteen—the numerical value of echad, “one,” spelled alef, ches, daled—and you get 358, the numerical value of Moshiach. The unity of the Jewish people, and the bond between one Jew and another that enables us to strengthen each other, is what will bring us from Moshe to Moshiach. May we merit the light of Moshiach speedily in our days, amen.