An Introduction to Learning Chassidus - Part 9

00:00 We are close to 20 Menachem Av on the one hand, and close to 15 Menachem Av on the other. Yesterday was 15 Menachem Av. There were no Yom Tov days for the Jewish people like 15 Menachem Av. And today we are also approaching 20 Menachem Av, the yahrzeit of the Rebbe’s father. And the weekly parsha is Parshas Eikev. So let’s begin with a story about the Rebbe’s father, Reb Levik. Rebbetzin Chana relates that toward the end of his life, Reb Levik suffered terribly because of the self-sacrifice he had shown in spreading Judaism and the wellsprings of Chassidus in Russia. He spent five years in Siberia—sorry, five years in exile, following his imprisonment. He ultimately passed away from his suffering, from the lack of food and other necessities, as Rebbetzin Chana relates in her memoirs. One of the things the Rebbetzin recounts is that in his very last hours, they could barely make out what he was trying to say. At one point, one of the chassidim came closer to try to hear him. The last words they heard were spoken as though to himself, with a kind of sigh. He said: “Ah, ikvesa d’Meshicha, ikvesa d’Meshicha, and Your footsteps were not known.” That is the wording of the verse in Tehillim: “And Your footsteps were not known.” The footsteps, the heels of Moshiach, the footsteps of the Geulah. “Were not known”—we cannot see the end of the exile. Those were the last words they heard. Afterward, he tried to say a few more things, but they could no longer make them out. So those were the last words they managed to hear from Reb Levik on 20 Menachem Av, the day of his passing. And those words are really the theme of Parshas Eikev. The weekly parsha begins, “And it shall be, eikev, when you listen.” The name of the parsha is Eikev. Now, the Rebbe raises a well-known question in maamarim and sichos: Why

02:58 does it say, “And it shall be, eikev, when you listen”? It should have said, “And it shall be, if you listen.” That is the usual word in Hebrew, in Lashon Hakodesh: “And it shall be, if you listen to these ordinances, and keep and do them, then Hashem your G-d will keep for you the covenant, the kindness, and the oath that He swore to your forefathers,” along with all the blessings that appear later in the parsha. Why does it say “eikev”? And that is the name of the parsha: Eikev. The explanation connects to those words Reb Levik said, the idea of ikvesa. The Rebbe speaks about this often in maamarim on the weekly parsha: eikev alludes to ikvesa d’Meshicha. The Rebbe always cites this in the name of the Tzemach Tzedek, who explains: “And it shall be, eikev, when you listen.” It does not say “if”; it says “eikev.” What is the allusion here? The Tzemach Tzedek says that in ikvesa d’Meshicha, at the end of the exile, in the time of the “heels,” when the exile reaches its end and we come to the moment of matu raglin b’raglin—when the feet of the exile meet the feet of Moshiach—precisely then, “you will listen.” It will certainly happen. It does not say “if,” because there is no doubt: you will certainly listen. It is certain that Jews will do teshuvah in the final moments of the exile. This is what the Rambam writes in Hilchos Teshuvah. The Rebbe cites the Rambam’s well-known statement that “the Torah has promised that the Jewish people will ultimately do teshuvah at the end of their exile, and immediately they will be redeemed.” The Torah promises us this in the verse in Parshas Nitzavim, “And you will return to Hashem your G-d.” Hakadosh Boruch Hu promises that at the end of the exile, “you will return”: the Jewish people will return to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Afterward, “Hashem your G-d will bring back your exiles and have mercy on you”—the ingathering of the exiles, when we return to Eretz Yisroel. So that is what the Tzemach Tzedek is saying. The Rebbe brings this in maamarim on the weekly parsha for 20 Menachem Av: the Torah tells us, “And it shall be”—it will happen. It is

05:26 not something in doubt. “Eikev”—in ikvesa d’Meshicha, at the end of the exile, when the Torah has promised it, there is no longer any question. What about free choice? No. A time will come when, in eikev, in ikvesa d’Meshicha, “you will listen,” with certainty. The Jewish people will certainly do teshuvah, and immediately they will be redeemed, as the verses go on to say. In one of the sichos, the Rebbe focuses on something remarkable in the weekly parsha. It says, “And it shall be, eikev, when you listen to these ordinances.” It begins, seemingly, with something that depends on a person’s avodah: “When you listen to these ordinances, and keep and do them”—a Jew observing Torah and mitzvos. It says “you listen,” “keep,” and “do.” The Rebbe explains that these correspond to thought, speech, and action. Listening takes place in thought: a person thinks as he hears and pays attention. “Keep” refers to speech. The Gemara says that one retains learning through the mouth: speaking about what one learns helps one retain and remember it. And “do” refers to action. Thought, speech, and action: when a Jew serves Hakadosh Boruch Hu in thought, speech, and action, then “Hashem your G-d will keep for you the covenant, the kindness, and the oath,” along with all the blessings that follow. Hakadosh Boruch Hu will be with them, “Hashem will remove all illness from you,” and so on. But a question arises. The Rebbe asks a simple question: I don’t understand. You say, “Hashem your G-d will keep the covenant, the kindness, and the oath.” Think about those words—covenant, kindness, and oath. All three describe things we receive even when we do not deserve them. That is the whole point of a covenant. What is a covenant? As Chassidus always explains, why do people make a covenant? They make a covenant so that even if they have a disagreement, even if they do not get along, even if there are reasons to want to break their bond of love, nevertheless, they have made a covenant

07:37 for that very reason. A covenant means that nothing will break our bond, even if we do not deserve it. The same is true of an oath. When a person swears an oath, he is saying that even if there are difficulties, obstacles, delays, or things that get in the way, he has sworn that this is how it will be. “By Myself I have sworn, says Hashem”—Hakadosh Boruch Hu has sworn an oath. That is certainly beyond reason. And the same is true of kindness: kindness means giving without calculations. Chassidus often explains the difference between kindness and mercy. Kindness makes no calculations; it is giving without limit. Avraham Avinu, who embodied the attribute of kindness, gave to everyone. If so, there seems to be a contradiction between the beginning and end of the verse. At the beginning it says, “When you listen to these ordinances, and keep and do them,” implying that the blessings come as a reward for what we do. On the other hand, it says that they will come as a covenant, kindness, and an oath—and those mean a gift from Above, without conditions or calculations, even when it is undeserved. So how do these two parts of the weekly parsha fit together? There is a wonderful sicha of the Rebbe in volume 9 of Likkutei Sichos that explains this. It is based on a farbrengen from 5711, the first year of the Rebbe’s leadership. The Rebbe discussed this fundamental point there, both in a maamar and in sichos, and that became the basis for the sicha in volume 9 of Likkutei Sichos. The Rebbe establishes a central principle for our avodah today, for our lives today. He explains that, broadly speaking, there are two ways of serving Hashem. There is service of Hashem that proceeds measure for measure, built on an orderly system of calculation: you do something, and you receive something in return. An awakening from below brings an awakening from Above. A person’s avodah, and that

09:38 The vessel, and that draws it down. There is measure for measure: what I do determines what I bring about through my service. That is the ordinary way of serving Hashem. But there is a kind of service in which what is given comes from a place entirely beyond all calculation. It would seem that Hakadosh Boruch Hu gives it from a place where a person and his service, his actions, have no bearing at all. It is completely beyond the chain of spiritual worlds; it comes from the infinite light, from the very highest place. But here is the point: Hakadosh Boruch Hu wants a Jew to receive everything in a way that involves something he has done. Even when He gives us something as a gift, even when Hashem gives us something from the loftiest place, He wants the person to have a part in it. So there is human service there, too. This is the well-known expression always cited in Chassidus, nahama d’chisufa, “bread of shame”: that there should not be a situation where you receive something you did not earn. Right? A person who receives gifts without having done anything does not appreciate them, does not feel comfortable with them, feels embarrassed by them, and so on. So even things that come from the very highest place involve service. But it is a different kind of service. Here, it is not that your service, your own being, your actions, are on a level that can draw this down. No, because there is no comparison at all. On the contrary, it comes through bittul, through self-effacement. The person serves, but in his service he feels: this is not coming from me. This is not my way of seeing things, not my own being, not my intellect, not my feelings. It does not come from my own place. It comes from complete self-effacement

11:31 before Hakadosh Boruch Hu. And this is the Rebbe’s wonderful explanation. This is eikev, ikvesa d’Meshicha, the footsteps of Moshiach. This is exactly the point, and the way to serve Hashem in our generation, in our time, now, before the coming of Moshiach. It is the general difference between the time of the Beis Hamikdash and the time of exile, and especially this period. What is the point? Chassidus explains it, and the Rebbe explains it wonderfully in the sicha. On the one hand, we know—we always say—that during the time of the Beis Hamikdash, the service of Hashem was on a much higher level than it is now. There was a visible perception of G-dliness. Ten miracles took place in the Beis Hamikdash. A Jew would enter the Beis Hamikdash and see the Divine revelation of the Shechinah. He would see the ten miracles; he would see that the Holy Ark took up no measurable space. He would see such great revelations. There was a tangible perception of G-dliness. There was also an intellectual grasp of G-dliness in the time of the Beis Hamikdash. As the Rebbe says in Likkutei Torah, people had a remarkable grasp of the loftiest matters of G-dliness. So there was remarkable perception, remarkable understanding, and consequently remarkable self-effacement. A Jew would enter the Beis Hamikdash and see the Kohanim and Levi’im, the Beis Hamikdash itself, and the miracles and wonders visible to the naked eye there. And immediately he would—how does it say?—bow down. “To go up, to see, and to bow down.” “Just as he came to see, so he came to be seen.” They would enter the Beis Hamikdash, and the Shechinah would be revealed. You see the Shechinah, the Shechinah sees you, and they bow down, completely nullifying themselves. So the bittul in the time of the Beis Hamikdash was extraordinarily lofty and wonderful. Now we do not have that. We say in davening, “Because of our sins we were exiled from our land and distanced from our soil, and we cannot go up, see, and bow down.” We cannot reach the self-effacement that existed in the time of the Beis Hamikdash. We do not have it at all. We do not have a visible perception of G-dliness; we do not see. On the contrary, “Darkness covers the earth.” The world is full of darkness, of concealment and obscurity, and throughout

13:26 the exile we do not see. And our understanding of G-dliness today is not remotely comparable to what it once was. So what happens? Seemingly, we do not have that bittul. On the other hand, Chassidus says: On the contrary, there is something deeper—the bittul of netzach, of determination. The bittul of the soul’s power of netzach, of mesirus nefesh. Precisely in the time of exile, and especially in the period of ikvesa d’Meshicha—the heels. And here comes the famous analogy brought in the maamarim. The Rebbe Rashab said it in the well-known maamar beginning “Ein Hakadosh Boruch Hu Ba Bitrunya Im Beriyosav,” one of the foundational maamarim about our service today. It is then found in many maamarim of the Frierdiker Rebbe and the Rebbe: When water is boiling hot, it is impossible to put your head into it, but you can put your heels into it. Precisely the heels, which lack all those faculties and qualities. The heels are the lowest part of a person, yet they have a self-effacing responsiveness to the power of will. As the Rebbe says in the sicha, the foot, and the heel of the foot, does not go into hot water simply because it lacks intellect. This is not merely an advantage that comes from a lack. Rather, the heels truly are a vessel for the power of will. The power of will is immense, deep, unlimited. Nothing stands in the way of the will. It is the greatest, deepest part of the soul. Where is it found? Where does it express itself? Precisely in the heels. There it finds its deepest expression, and that is why the heels can be put into boiling water. So, he says, this is where we are now: the service of the heel, the heels, ikvesa d’Meshicha. Precisely when there are no revelations, no light, none of those wonderful things. We do not have all those important things; we do not have the understanding and perception people had then. Seemingly, we are at the very lowest level.

15:23 Yes, but we have the power of mesirus nefesh; we have the heel. We have service in actual practice—the heels. Yud and eikev: Yaakov. We have the service that is carried out in practice. What does it do? We do not understand, do not feel, do not see. We do not understand what is happening here. How can it be that we are still in exile? How can there still be so much concealment and obscurity, so much darkness all around? A person looks around at it all and says: How can this be? That is the whole point. What is happening does not quite make sense to the intellect, or to the eyes. But precisely here is a Jew’s profound self-effacement, arising from the yechidah, the innermost level of the soul. A Jew says: It cannot be any other way. That connection, that depth—this bittul is, in its essence, deeper than the bittul of the time of the Beis Hamikdash. And so the bittul of eikev is not a matter of an awakening from below producing an awakening from above; it is not service based on measure for measure. On the contrary: “And it shall be, because you heed these ordinances and observe and do them.” When a Jew serves Hakadosh Boruch Hu in this way—heeding, observing, and doing in a state of eikev, when he does not see or feel or comprehend, when he has none of those things—and nevertheless stands firm in his faith and in his mesirus nefesh to serve Hakadosh Boruch Hu, then “Hashem your G-d will keep for you.” What does Hakadosh Boruch Hu give us? He gives without calculations. He gives us a covenant, He gives us kindness, He gives us an oath. He gives us the full flow of His blessings without any limits, without any barriers, without anything holding it back. And that is how the parsha continues. Afterward come the abundant blessings, and among them is also, “Hashem will remove from you every illness,” right?

17:13 It says later in the parsha that Hashem will also remove every kind of illness from us, G-d forbid, in a way that is beyond all measure and limitation. That is another central point in this period: we need to ask, and to know, that through our steadfastness and self-sacrifice, we bring about the nullification of every negative situation—every illness, all the terrible ailments of Egypt. And the same applies to the blessings mentioned there concerning children and livelihood, and so on and so forth. “You will eat and be satisfied”—the blessings for the Land of Israel. It is all in the weekly parsha. These blessings do not come on the basis of measure for measure. On the contrary, it is because of this self-nullification, this self-sacrifice, that such abundant blessings flow from Above. And this point, when you look at the Rebbe’s teachings, is an extraordinarily fundamental and profound idea. The Rebbe sees it also in the day we have just celebrated, 15 Menachem Av. The Rebbe opened our eyes to the depth of this Yom Tov, 15 Menachem Av. What exactly happens on that day? The Mishnah at the end of tractate Taanis says, “There were no festivals like 15 Menachem Av.” What happened on 15 Menachem Av? It says that the daughters of Jerusalem—or the daughters of Israel; there are two versions—would go out and dance in the vineyards, wearing borrowed white garments. And what would they say? “Young man, lift up your eyes and see what you choose. Do not set your eyes on beauty; set your eyes on family.” So the Rebbe takes this Mishnah. When you learn it on the simple level, what exactly is happening there? What is the message? Why is there so much joy? Why is this the greatest day? The commentators offer various explanations, but Chassidus opens our eyes and shows us its depth. This is about something much higher, much more exalted. The daughters

19:10 of Jerusalem, the daughters of Israel, represent the souls of the Jewish people. Shir Hashirim. Right. The daughters of Jerusalem are the soul, yes. “I am dark but beautiful, O daughters of Jerusalem.” The daughters of Israel, the daughters of Jerusalem, come forward, and when we find ourselves in exile, we need to ask Hashem to choose us. Who is the “young man” here? The Rebbe says in the maamarim and sichos on 15 Menachem Av that the young man is Hashem. In Shir Hashirim there is a verse, “Choice as the cedars”—an expression referring to Hashem. So we say to Hashem, “Young man, lift up Your eyes.” What is the point of “lift up Your eyes”? The Rebbe gives an extraordinary explanation of this Mishnah: we ask Hashem, so to speak, to raise His eyes. How can we say such a thing about Hashem? That is precisely the point. There is a way of looking that is intellectual, limited and narrow. Likewise, a person’s service can take two forms. There is service guided by reason, by knowledge, understanding, comprehension and what one can see. That is an orderly, limited, narrow service, confined by the bounds of intellect and reason. That is one way. But a person can also rise to a place of self-sacrifice, to serve Hashem beyond reason. With that self-nullification of faith and kabbolas ol, that devotion beyond reason, we say to Hashem, “Lift up Your eyes.” If You look at how we behave—as the Rebbe says, the Gemara speaks of different kinds of daughters of Israel, including those it calls “unattractive,” who have nothing. The Rebbe explains according to Chassidus that this means they lack all the beauty of Torah and mitzvos, and they lack all

21:06 the merit of their ancestors. They have nothing. Seemingly nothing remains. But I have a soul. I belong to the family. “Set Your eyes on family.” I belong to the family; I am a Jew, and I have the essence of a Jew. From there come the power of faith, the power of kabbolas ol and the power of self-sacrifice. Even though a Jew does not understand, does not feel and does not see, he is nevertheless devoted to Hashem. That gives a Jew the strength to say to Hashem, “Lift up Your eyes.” Look at us from a deeper, higher perspective, “and see what You choose.” “Do not set Your eyes on beauty.” We ask Hashem not to look at us from the external perspective of beauty—not at whether we measure up or how we behave—but to “set Your eyes on family.” We are all part of the great family. We inherited from Avraham Avinu the power of self-sacrifice, and that is what makes us strong. Indeed, now, in the footsteps of Moshiach, we have that strength even more powerfully than before. So 15 Menachem Av is the revelation of Moshiach. That is the greatest light that shines on 15 Menachem Av. And now, in these days close to 15 Menachem Av, approaching 20 Menachem Av, Parshas Eikev, we need to awaken within ourselves that strength for these final moments we are spending in exile. This is what the Rebbe tells us. In all the sichos and maamarim from this period, the Rebbe gives us the strength to open our eyes. “Lift up your eyes”—the Rebbe says to the chassidim too, “Lift up your eyes.” Open your eyes; rise higher. If we look at the world from a shallow, superficial, worldly perspective, through the newspapers and the news, all the madness drives you crazy—what is happening in the world, all the darkness, all the turmoil. That is looking with your eyes

23:01 down. But “lift up your eyes,” the Rebbe says. Rise higher. “Raise your eyes on high.” Do not look at life and at what is happening around you with shallow, external, superficial eyes. Rise a little higher. Look at the world through the Rebbe’s eyes, through the eyes of Chassidus, through the eyes of the Rebbe’s sichos. There we see how the world is advancing toward the Geulah; how all these concealments are the decay of the darkness of exile, while the light of the Geulah is growing here. It changes our entire perspective, like the Gemara’s account of Rabbi Akiva laughing: within the darkness, he saw the depth of the light of the Geulah. So I want to conclude by wishing myself and everyone here that we have this strength in the final moments of exile; that we learn what the Rebbe teaches us, and learn this lesson of the daughters of Israel in borrowed white garments. The Rebbe says that white means precisely this: no colors. There is red, blue, white, black—all sorts of colors of external beauty. White is simplicity. White is self-nullification. White is the plainest, least dazzling place in the soul. It is the place of the self-nullification of the yechidah. And the garments are “borrowed.” The Rebbe says that “borrowed” relates to “One thing I have asked.” A Jew comes from that place and asks Hashem; he gives himself over in complete self-nullification, as an eikev, a heel. And precisely then Hashem will bestow upon us the covenant, the kindness and the oath He swore to our forefathers, and give us all the blessings in material life too, literally—children, health and abundant livelihood, everything each person needs. In matters

24:58 of shidduchim, in matters of livelihood, in matters of health. And may we merit what is written at the end of the parsha: that all this land, as it says, from the great wilderness to Lebanon, as far as the Euphrates River—we will conquer all of it immediately. In recent days, we have already begun to see what is called the destruction of Tyre. The Rebbe would call it the destruction of the negative side. And so may we also begin to see the rebuilding of Jerusalem, the building of the third Beis Hamikdash, which will be built speedily in our days by Moshiach Tzidkeinu. May we merit to see it with our physical eyes, immediately.