When the Soul Cries Out: The Alter Rebbe's Profound Solution for Spiritual Crises

00:00 How do we rise out of a low point? Every one of us has better days and worse days. Our moods go up and down. One day we see the world through rose-colored glasses: everything is beautiful and wonderful, and we’re in a good mood, full of energy and enthusiasm. And there are days when we feel stuck and see the world in shades of gray and black. How does a person get out of moments like that—moments of feeling low, moments of decline, moments when he feels as though he’s stuck? The truth is that ups and downs, as they’re called, are natural. They’re normal. A human being is complex. A person isn’t made of plastic. A person isn’t a painting or a photograph hanging on the wall. There’s a well-known saying among chassidim: “A chossid isn’t a photograph.” With a photograph, we choose the nicest picture of our grandfather or someone dear to us, smiling perfectly and dressed nicely. We hang it up and see it the same way every day. Sunday, Monday, Tuesday—it’s always the same. But a person, as we know, isn’t a photograph. A person is alive, and because he’s alive, he has ups and downs. That’s what we’ll talk about today. How should a person deal with moments of decline? How does a person get up and rise out of those places? When we talk about ups and downs, there are the ordinary ones: better days and worse days, as we said. But sometimes there are harder moments. Sometimes there are periods in life when a person feels stuck. We know there are different kinds of crises—the crisis of adolescence, the midlife crisis. These aren’t just another slight dip and rise in mood; they’re heavier things. Periods in life when a person feels he’s at zero or stuck.

02:12 How do I get out? How do I go on? How do I grow from this place? What do Chassidus and Tanya have to tell us about this? Today we’ll talk about growing out of a crisis—rising through a descent, as explained in Tanya. The Alter Rebbe explains this beautifully and gives us several fundamental points about it. We’ll also discuss a wonderful story in Tanach that seems, at first glance, to have nothing to do with our subject. But we’ll study it through the Alter Rebbe’s illuminating explanation, and then we’ll see how this story takes on tremendous and wonderful meaning for every one of us in our lives, at the moments when we need it. First, following what we said about ups and downs being a natural part of life, I want to share a story I heard. A Jew related that when he was a young man, he once complained to the Rebbe about this very thing. He was in yechidus. We know there was a regular arrangement for yechidus: people could go in to consult with the Rebbe and have a personal conversation with him, and young men could too. On or near their birthday, they too would receive that wonderful opportunity to go into yechidus with the Rebbe and ask questions. So this young man told the Rebbe that he felt unstable, that he felt inner turmoil. One day he was up, the next day down; one day at a high point, the next day at a low point. He couldn’t stand having so many ups and downs. What should he do? “Rebbe, give me some advice.” He related that the Rebbe looked at him, listened to his complaint and what he was saying, and told him: “All in all, you’re a human being. You’re not describing a problem; you’re describing

04:18 a reality. You’re a person.” A person isn’t made of plastic. A person is made of flesh and blood, body and soul, and the soul includes a G-dly soul and an animal soul, as the Alter Rebbe explains in Tanya. So the fact that we have ups and downs is the most natural thing in the world. The key is knowing how to grow out of a descent, to understand the deeper meaning of a descent for the sake of an ascent. One of the strongest and most common expressions in Chassidus, beginning with Tanya and appearing throughout the teachings of Chassidus over the generations, is “a descent for the sake of an ascent.” Let’s first talk about a few things Tanya says on this subject. The Alter Rebbe tells us something wonderful. There’s a verse: “For a tzaddik falls seven times and rises.” That tells us that even when we’re speaking of a tzaddik—a true tzaddik—and we know that in Tanya a tzaddik is on a very high level in serving Hashem, even for him, “a tzaddik falls seven times and rises.” All the more so when we’re talking about an ordinary Jew—and “your people are all tzaddikim.” Every Jew, along his path through life, experiences a fall in serving Hashem. The Alter Rebbe tells us that this fall in serving Hashem is necessary. It isn’t a mishap. It isn’t something that isn’t supposed to happen. On the contrary, it’s part of a Jew’s process of growth and development. Why did Hakadosh Boruch Hu establish the nature of creation and of human beings so that a person goes through descents and ascents in life? The Alter Rebbe says something wonderful. He says that we can actually see this in the physical world. For something to change and grow, part of its process of growth requires it to undergo a kind of decay. We see this with trees and the way they grow. We see that when you want a seed to become a tree bearing sweet fruit and all the rest, you have to put

06:37 the seed in the ground, and part of the process is that the seed decays. That decay is necessary. The reason is simple: As long as the seed remains in its own form, with its own shape and character—a hard, strong, dry seed, with everything that makes it a seed—it will remain a seed. Nothing will happen. We want it to become a fruit-bearing tree. The seed must first lose its previous form, decay, let go of that form—and only when it becomes nothing can the growth of something new, something different, begin. In the language of Kabbalah, this is called: Between one “something” and another, there must be “nothing” in between. In other words, between one kind of existence and another, there is a process of letting go of the previous state in order to enter the new one. One of the interesting examples Chassidus gives of this is a story the Gemara tells about Rabbi Zeira. We know Rabbi Zeira as one of the great Amoraim of the Talmud. The Gemara relates that Rabbi Zeira was one of the great Amoraim of Babylonia, and, like the other Babylonian Amoraim, he studied in the manner of the Babylonian Talmud. At a certain point, Rabbi Zeira decided he wanted to go up to Eretz Yisroel. He arrived there but couldn’t connect with or understand the way the sages of Eretz Yisroel learned—what we call the approach of the Jerusalem Talmud. The move from the Babylonian Talmud’s way of learning to the Jerusalem Talmud’s was a radical shift: a different style of learning, a different approach. So much so that, as the Gemara says, he had to undertake a number of fasts to let go of and forget his previous way of learning. Only then could he connect with the new way. Now, of course, we need to clarify something here: This doesn’t mean forgetting in the simple sense of the word. G-d forbid—we must not forget Torah. “Lest they depart from your heart all the days of your life”: there is a prohibition in halachah. Pirkei

08:59 Fathers. We must not forget: it is a Torah prohibition to forget words of Torah. Of course, the prohibition is against deliberately forgetting. So he did not, G-d forbid, ask to forget them. What he meant was to let go of the way he had learned—the method, the approach. The Babylonian Talmud has a very specific approach to learning: questions and intricate arguments. Anyone who studies the Babylonian Talmud knows that. The Jerusalem Talmud has an entirely different approach. Everything is illuminated; everything is clear. The discussion moves quickly and clearly, without so much intricate argument or difficulty. So moving from one way of learning to the other required fasting—that is, self-nullification, stepping out of the old way, turning his previous learning into “nothing” so he could enter the new “something,” the new way of learning. And this is essentially what happens to every one of us at certain times in life. A person adapts, gets used to a particular way of serving Hashem, learning, davening, behaving, living, working, succeeding in life, and relating to family, surroundings, and community. He lives a certain kind of life. Then a point comes when Hakadosh Boruch Hu wants to raise us to another level. He does not want a person to remain in the same place. “Go forth from your land, from your birthplace, and from your father’s house.” A point comes when a person needs to rise, grow, and change. He needs to reach another stage, and that is where this comes in. To get there, part of the process is, as we said, the decay, the self-nullification, that descent. Don’t look at it as though you’re stuck with a flat tire: “Poor me, I’ve lost everything. What’s happening to me? It’s all darkness.” No. Understand that a process of growth is taking place here, and part of that process is going through this transition of “nothingness” in between, from one “something” to another. When we look at it this way, first of all, we can be calm. We know we’re part of the process, and with Hashem’s help,

11:07 we’ll come through it. The question is how to make sure that these moments, these days, this period—which can sometimes last a little while, until we get upset and start to panic—leave us stronger rather than bring us down. What should I do during those days, those weeks, that period when I feel caught in this “nothingness”? Here the Alter Rebbe gives us advice in the Tanya. He cites the verse in Tehillim, “Though he falls, he will not be cast down.” The Rebbe says that the verse speaks about this, and the Alter Rebbe explains it in connection with our subject. As we said, the verse tells us that falling is part of the process, part of life. But what do I do at that stage, while I’m in a fall? “Though he falls, he will not be cast down.” Even when I fall, I don’t fall so far that I’m completely cast down: “I’m finished. I’m at absolute zero.” Even in moments of falling, a person has firm things he holds on to. They safeguard him and enable him to get through that intermediate stage of “nothingness” successfully. What does “Though he falls, he will not be cast down” mean? The Alter Rebbe tells us something wonderful. We all know the beautiful verse in Mishlei: “Educate a child according to his way; even when he grows old, he will not depart from it.” When educating a child, you have to educate him according to his way. But what is the verse saying? Educate the child according to his way so that even when he grows old, he will not depart from it. What does “not depart from it” mean? the Rebbe asks. From what he received as a child. Wait a moment—you yourself are saying that this isn’t the ultimate way; it’s a child’s way. We aren’t supposed to remain children all our lives. We’re supposed to move beyond that. Here the verse is saying, no—

13:06 “Educate a child according to his way”: educate the child in a child’s way, so that even when he grows old, he will remain a child? “He will not depart from it”—from what he received as a child? What is the verse telling us? The Alter Rebbe says something wonderful: “Educating a child” doesn’t refer only to a child, and childhood isn’t just a matter of what it says on your passport. There are things a person must train himself in, or learn from his parents and family—things about which he says, “This will not change. I do this whether I’m in the mood or not, whether I’m at my highest point or my lowest.” That is what it means to educate a child. We teach a child the foundations of life. And those foundations are called foundations for a reason. A foundation isn’t something beautiful, sophisticated, or magnificent. A building may be a magnificent structure, the most beautiful building, made of gold and precious stones and all kinds of wonderful things. Its foundations will always be foundations of hard, solid concrete—but they hold up the entire building. “Educate a child according to his way” means that each of us must have certain things in our daily conduct that are like concrete, like a foundation—things I will never stop doing, whether I feel like it or not, whether today is a time of ascent or a time of descent. I will not budge from them. The things a person holds on to—that is what the verse means: “Even when he grows old,” and you experience falls, because falls are an inevitable part of life, “he will not depart from it,” from those foundations you hold on to. This is something we need to decide and establish for ourselves. It is very important

15:00 that each of us have certain things in Torah, in mitzvos, and in our conduct—both toward other people and toward Hashem—about which we say, “I do this under all circumstances. I don’t feel like it; I’m not in the mood. I’m not there right now. But I have to get up in the morning at some point. I have to daven, set aside some time to learn, and keep doing certain things.” Even though right now I don’t feel the reason or the purpose, and I don’t have all the motivation around me, I do it—because “though he falls, he will not be cast down.” And it is precisely these firm things that safeguard you in those moments that also prepare you for the next stage when it comes. A person will never remain stuck. Rest assured, you will come through this. On the contrary, you will grow and reach a new stage in serving Hashem. You will have a foundation that gives you the strength to rise to the next level. And here I want to come to a wonderful story, a wonderful explanation the Alter Rebbe gave one of the chassidim in yechidus about this subject. The story, as related in Chassidus writings from the early generations, is that the Alter Rebbe said something to a chossid in yechidus when the chossid complained to him. The chossid wept before the Rebbe in yechidus: “What is happening to me? I feel no desire, no vitality. I feel completely dead in my service of Hashem.” He cried out, “Rebbe, help me!” The Alter Rebbe said to him: “Just as the soul... just as you are crying out now in yechidus over your distance from the living G-d, from Hakadosh Boruch Hu, know that the soul cries out in the same way to Hakadosh Boruch Hu at night when it ascends on high.” We know that the sefarim say that when a person goes to sleep at night, the soul ascends on high to draw life from the Source of Life. And when the soul ascends on high, of course the person remains alive. He is asleep; tomorrow he will wake up.

17:01 In the morning, a person says, “Modeh ani before You,” but there is also the stage of “Into Your hand I entrust my spirit.” We entrust the soul to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. When the soul ascends on high, it stands face to face before the Throne of Glory, and sometimes it cries out to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. What does it cry out? The Alter Rebbe says that there is a story in Tanach that tells of this exchange between the soul and Hakadosh Boruch Hu. “A certain woman of the wives of the disciples of the prophets”—a story in the Book of Kings—tells of something that happened in the time of the prophet Elisha. A poor widow; her husband had died. One of the wives of the disciples of the prophets comes to Elisha and cries out: “Your servant, my husband, is dead.” Her husband died young, poor man, and left behind a creditor who is coming to take her two children as slaves. He left a very large debt, and the creditors are coming to demand the money. She has nothing to give them. They are going to take our children as slaves. The poor woman is crying out, beside herself. Elisha asks her, “What do you have in the house?” And she says, “Your maidservant has nothing at all except a small flask of oil.” All I have left is one tiny flask of oil. The prophet tells her: “Take that oil, ask your children to bring lots of vessels—empty vessels, do not bring too few—and pour the oil into the empty vessels. From that you will have an abundance to live on. You and your children will live on what remains, and you will pay your creditors,” and so on. It is a well-known story in Tanach. The Alter Rebbe says to the chossid: “The Torah is eternal. The Torah’s stories are eternal. This is not just a story of a wonder, a miracle performed by the prophet Elisha. It is the personal story of each and every one of us.” The woman is the soul, the G-dly soul. The soul goes to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, to Elisha. Elisha is also a name for Hakadosh Boruch Hu: “Eli, sha”—my G-d, save me. Hakadosh Boruch Hu, save me. “Your servant, my husband, is dead.” I

19:00 feel dead. “My husband”—ishi—also suggests “my fire,” eish. I had a fire when I was young, as a young married man, as a bochur. I remember having a fire. I had vitality, I had desire and enthusiasm for life, for serving Hashem, and today I’m stuck. A midlife crisis. “Your servant, my husband, is dead.” I have no vitality, no excitement, no desire, nothing. I feel dead in my life, in my service of Hashem. And not only that: the creditor. The creditor is the animal soul, which comes to—he is the Satan, he is the yetzer hara, he is the Angel of Death, as the Gemara says. He comes to take my two children—my love of Hashem and my fear of Hashem—as slaves, so that we become slaves to the animal soul and the yetzer hara. What do I do? “And she cried out”: the soul cries out to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Hakadosh Boruch Hu asks her, “What do you have in the house?” And here comes a tremendous message. I remember hearing this from the Rebbe in 5746, nearly forty years ago. I remember that at a farbrengen on 28 Cheshvan, the Rebbe repeated this teaching. It was very moving to hear the Rebbe say it. Hakadosh Boruch Hu says to the soul, to this woman, “What do you have in the house?” “Since you are a Jew,” the Rebbe said, “you surely have something in your house. You have a house; you have something. You have a house, and there must be something in it. It cannot be that you have nothing. What do you have?” That question awakens in us the true and right answer: I have a small flask of oil. We always retain the Jewish core, the spark, even when I feel, G-d forbid, as though I’m dead, stuck, a zero, without vitality, without anything. There is always a small flask of oil. It is the power of holy anointing oil, the Jewish spark, the G-dly power, the pure soul, the power of self-sacrifice, the power of faith. The Alter

20:59 Rebbe explains in Tanya that every Jew received this as an inheritance from Avraham Avinu. It always remains with you. If I have that small flask of oil, then comes the prophet’s advice: take empty vessels. You don’t feel excitement, you don’t feel a fire, you don’t feel full. So let there be empty vessels. Act even without vitality—act, be active. Do mitzvos, do good deeds, do things for yourself and for others. Do things even though you feel empty, but connect them to the oil. As you said: I know I have the spark; I have a G-dly power. It isn’t clear to me, it isn’t shining, there is no excitement—but the small flask of oil is there. Pour in that oil; connect it to the deeds you do. Even though right now I feel that the deeds are empty deeds, “do not bring too few empty vessels.” And with Hashem’s help, it will become a flame. That small flask of oil will fill the empty vessels, and “you and your children will live on what remains.” You will gain vitality from it, renewed vitality, renewed enthusiasm, love of Hashem and fear of Hashem. And with Hashem’s help, the fire will return and become a flame, “its sparks are sparks of fire, a flame of G-d,” as King Shlomo says in Shir Hashirim. And this is really the message for each and every one of us in life. As we said, every one of us has days like that: gray days, days when we feel cold, as though spiritually dead, without vitality or desire. So even on those days, the Alter Rebbe teaches us in Tanya: remember, first of all, as we said, this is part of a process of growth. “A righteous person falls seven times and rises again.” That’s the first thing. Don’t despair, don’t be alarmed. It is part of a process of growth; it will pass, and you will get up. Second, remember that “though he falls, he will not be cast down”—the fall is not total. There are always the things of “Train a child according to his way”;

23:08 hold on to them tightly. And third, remember what the Alter Rebbe teaches us through the prophet’s story: “Do not bring too few empty vessels,” because you have that small flask of oil. Remember that if you are a Jew, you have a house, and if you have a house, there must be something there. That something is the small flask of oil. Through that oil, when you fill vessels of action, it will once again become, “You and your children will live on what remains”—until the dead come to life. And this is also a symbol for our entire people, for everything we have been going through recently. This idea of a descent for the sake of an ascent: we are now in a period of hardship, with many particulars and many things we all know about, things happening everywhere in the world, especially in Eretz Yisroel. Remember that from this entire fall, from this entire descent, we will reach true growth. As the Maharal of Prague explains regarding all the darkness the Gemara describes in Sotah and Sanhedrin: before the coming of Moshiach, the world will be in a state of unprecedented decline, as we see now with our own eyes. Don’t be alarmed. It is part of the growth. “Zion shall be plowed like a field”—from that plowing will come growth, the great growth of the light of the Geulah that we are all waiting for. “Old men and old women will again sit in the streets of Jerusalem.” Especially as we now enter the month of Adar, when we increase in joy, may we merit to see “it was turned around.” “The Jews had light and joy and gladness and honor”—may it be so for us today. Amen, may it be His will.