The service of the mind and the service of the heart - Chanukah

00:01 Okay, today we’re going to talk about Chanukah, which also connects with the Hayom Yom we learned today: that the third day of Chanukah was also a day of Geulah for the Alter Rebbe. In general, we know there’s a connection between these two Yom Tovs. 19 Kislev and Chanukah are connected in a number of ways. First, we know that the Alter Rebbe’s Geulah on 19 Kislev was completed on Chanukah. That is, on 19 Kislev he was released from prison; on 28 Kislev he left the home of the misnaged, and by the time he got home it was already Chanukah. So the first Geulah was completed on Chanukah. Then, two years later, in 5561, there was another imprisonment. That’s the Hayom Yom for the third day of Chanukah: he was taken into custody again. This was even more severe—not for him personally, but for... for Chassidus. There was a great accusation against Chassidus, and on the third day of Chanukah—or elsewhere it says the fifth day of Chanukah; there are different opinions about exactly when it happened—but it was on Chanukah that the Alter Rebbe was released from his second imprisonment. The connection between 19 Kislev and Chanukah isn’t just a matter of timing; it’s also a matter of content. The Rebbe speaks about this a great deal in his sichos: the two are connected, and all of it is Divine providence. It has to do with oil. Oil represents razin derazin, the deepest secrets. There’s wine and there’s oil. Wine represents secrets—“When wine enters, secrets emerge”—but wine is an ordinary secret. Oil represents razin derazin, something concealed so deeply that it isn’t perceptible at all. With wine, the juice is there inside the fruit; you only have to press a little and it comes out quickly. Not so with an olive. When you see an olive on the tree, there’s no juice in it. It takes a whole process of work before anything finally comes out. As Rashi says in the weekly parsha, Parshas Mikeitz, on the words “his compassion was stirred”: Rashi explains the word for “stirred” by referring to the pressing of olives. There’s an explanation of this in the sichos. How

02:03 do you get oil out of an olive? It takes much longer, because it’s concealed much more deeply. That’s the idea of razin derazin, the inner dimension of the Torah—the inner dimension of the Torah as revealed in Chabad Chassidus, which is the yechidah. In the Rebbe’s famous sicha in the kuntres Inyanah Shel Toras Hachassidus, he explains the connection between oil and the inner dimension of the Torah. On the one hand, oil is distinct from all other liquids; on the other hand, it seeps into everything, penetrating everywhere. That is really the nature of the innermost yechidah of the Torah, Toras Hachassidus: on the one hand, it is the loftiest dimension, and on the other, it affects every detail and finer detail of a person, down to thought, speech, and action, and even the refinement of the animal soul and the refinement of the world, and so on. So what are we going to discuss today? Something very, very interesting that may not be so well known: how the Alter Rebbe’s release from imprisonment around Chanukah relates to the way he began explaining Chabad Chassidus. It is known that the Rebbe Rashab said that the process of “spreading your wellsprings outward” began on 19 Kislev. This appears in Toras Shalom in several places. The Rebbe would often repeat that in 5663, in 5667, and in several places in the Rebbe Rashab’s sichos in Toras Shalom, the Rebbe Rashab says that the promise Moshiach made to the Baal Shem Tov—that when “your wellsprings spread outward,” Moshiach will come and the Geulah will arrive—began to be fulfilled on 19 Kislev. In other words, before 19 Kislev, before Petersburg, the Alter Rebbe’s approach was still different, even though he had already been a Rebbe for many years. Do the math: from 5533 to 5559, twenty-six years had passed. That’s a long time. Nevertheless, when you look at the maamarim from before Petersburg, they’re known as the short maamarim. They were not yet fully Chabad in style; they were also

03:57 concise and very intense. Maamarim of fire, as the well-known expression goes: they burned up the world. The maamarim from before Petersburg were maamarim that burned away one’s sense of independent existence. They did not have the same breadth of Chabad explanation, of understanding and comprehension. After Petersburg, the Alter Rebbe began delivering maamarim in a way that could be understood and grasped. That began right after the first imprisonment, but it began chiefly after the second, and you can see it clearly in the Alter Rebbe’s books, which begin with 5561. What we have today from the Alter Rebbe before Petersburg is just one book, Maamarim Haketzarim. But after Petersburg, there are all the books, the entire set of maamarim that the Alter Rebbe delivered after Petersburg, particularly after the second time in Petersburg, beginning in 5561 and 5562. Actually, the set of the Alter Rebbe’s books starts in 5562; from then on there are two volumes for each year. There still isn’t a set for 5561, but there is the book—well, the book, it’s called... it covers the years 5561 and 5562. In any case, there’s something very interesting here. It’s a story the Frierdiker Rebbe told in a sicha on 19 Kislev 5693. It appears in Likkutei Dibburim or in Sefer Hasichos. It has now been published as a book, Sefer Hasichos 5692–5693. I think it may be 5692–5694; I don’t remember. The book came out recently, a year or two ago. In any case, this sicha appears in Likkutei Dibburim, and there are also passages, sections of it, in Reshimos. The Rebbe wrote things down in his diary, in his Reshimos. Some things are here and not there, and some are there and not here. Each has material the other doesn’t. The new book brings it all together. There the Frierdiker Rebbe related that on 19 Kislev 5559, the Alter Rebbe was released from prison and, as we said, arrived

06:00 home on Chanukah. What is the first maamar we have from the Alter Rebbe from that Chanukah? It is the maamar “Bechof-Hei BeKislev”—“On 25 Kislev”—in Torah Or, in the section on Parshas Vayeishev. That’s its opening phrase. You know, in Torah Or, the Chanukah maamarim don’t have a separate heading marked “Chanukah.” Some appear under Vayeishev and some under Mikeitz. So the first Chanukah maamar under Vayeishev is “Bechof-Hei BeKislev. Chanukah.” The Alter Rebbe delivered this maamar on Chanukah 5559. That makes it a historic maamar: it’s the first maamar we have from the Alter Rebbe after his release from prison. So we’ll discuss what the maamar says. We’ll see how important it is for understanding what the Alter Rebbe brought to Chabad Chassidus. The Frierdiker Rebbe then relates that a year later, in 5560, many chassidim came. There’s a long story about it. The Alter Rebbe didn’t want them to come; at first he said no one should come. In the end, many chassidim came for 19 Kislev 5560. There was still fear. Why? Because although the Alter Rebbe had been released from prison, the accusation against him had not yet been laid to rest. The authorities and those who had conducted the trial and so on had filed what’s called—what do you call it? They filed, uh... how do you say it in Hebrew? They filed another... an appeal, an appeal. They filed an appeal, as happened with the Rebbe too after Didan Notzach. There was an appeal after Didan Notzach. So there was an appeal in the Alter Rebbe’s case too, and that’s why the Alter Rebbe still didn’t want to publicize things or make a big stir. Only after the second Geulah did 19 Kislev become a major occasion; the Alter Rebbe began to appear publicly and do great things. That began in 5562, but

08:08 Nevertheless, the Frierdiker Rebbe relates that, in practice, many chassidim came. They still did not know what the Alter Rebbe would do or what would happen. The Alter Rebbe even said—at any rate, many chassidim came, and the Alter Rebbe held a farbrengen and said l’chaim. The Alter Rebbe also delivered a maamar then. The maamar was “Blessed is He Who performed miracles for our forefathers in those days, at this time.” It is not clear whether this maamar was delivered on 19 Kislev or on Chanukah. In any event, it was delivered around that time, in 5560, and the Frierdiker Rebbe says that it was a continuation of the maamar of 25 Kislev 5559. In other words, it was delivered a year later, but its subject matter continued what had been discussed in the maamar of 25 Kislev. As the Frierdiker Rebbe relates, when the Alter Rebbe began the maamar, he said: “Blessed is He Who performed miracles for our forefathers—in the days of our forefathers, the Baal Shem Tov and the Maggid.” Then he said: “In those days—Chanukah and Purim; at this time—19 Kislev.” That is how the Alter Rebbe opened the maamar. The Rebbe also cites this in the maamar “Blessed is He Who performed Miracles” in the collected maamarim. The Rebbe cites it in both maamarim entitled “Blessed is He Who performed Miracles.” There are two such maamarim in the collection, one from 5700 and one from 5743. And in “Or” from 5745, the Rebbe brings up this point: the connection between Chanukah and 19 Kislev, as the Alter Rebbe said in the maamar, “Blessed is He Who performed miracles for our forefathers, the Baal Shem Tov and the Maggid, in those days—Chanukah and Purim; at this time—19 Kislev.” So there is a connection between the two maamarim. Now, before I tell you what the maamarim say, there is a note by the Rebbe Maharash. The Frierdiker Rebbe mentions in that sicha that there is a note by the Rebbe Maharash, and he quotes

10:08 the note briefly. More recently, the note has become available in greater detail, if you want to see what the Rebbe Maharash wrote. It is a note he wrote on the manuscript of the maamar. In other words, we have the maamar “Blessed is He Who performed Miracles,” which, as we said, the Alter Rebbe delivered on 19 Kislev—around Chanukah and 19 Kislev of 5560. The Tzemach Tzedek wrote down this maamar with annotations. It became long with the annotations—the Alter Rebbe had delivered it more briefly. The Tzemach Tzedek added many annotations, and at the end of the maamar there is a note written by the Rebbe Maharash. In this note, the Rebbe Maharash writes, “I heard from my father.” In other words, he relates what he heard from his father, the Tzemach Tzedek, about this maamar: that the maamar arose from a particular situation... That is how he puts it. What does that mean? He relates that, in that year, after the Alter Rebbe’s release from prison, the chassidim were tremendously stirred. The Alter Rebbe’s Geulah aroused great excitement and tremendous fervor among them, and that excitement also found expression in their avodas Hashem. On the one hand, they were stirred by the Geulah—the Alter Rebbe had come out of prison—but that excitement also became part of the chassidim’s avodas Hashem. They would daven with great fervor, and their avodas Hashem was so fervent that they could not remain in the city. They would go out to daven in the forest, in the fields, in the wilderness. They would leave the city and daven there with shouts and cries, dancing and making a great commotion. It went so far that, to use the wording there, “they would suspend themselves between heaven and earth.” That is the phrase. I do not know what it means. It was as though they reached a point of utter self-expiration—the chassidim’s excitement and fervor made their avodas Hashem so extreme, without boundaries.

12:08 And the Alter Rebbe saw this. So the maamar he delivered on 25 Kislev 5559, “Blessed is He Who performed Miracles,” was meant to cool, to cool that fervor. The Alter Rebbe wanted to clothe the chassidim in the garments, in the vessels, of Chabad. That was the point. That is why, in the maamar “Blessed is He Who performed Miracles,” the Alter Rebbe elevates the service of the mind and lowers the service of the heart. That is what the Rebbe writes. In brief, that is the content of the Rebbe Maharash’s note: because of the situation there, the Alter Rebbe needed to cool the service of the heart and elevate the service of the mind. For us, this means that here the Alter Rebbe is beginning to explain things to the chassidim. We have to understand: the chassidim did not yet... Today, thank G-d, we have this vast sea of Chabad Chassidus. There are thirty or forty books from each Rebbe, many series of maamarim and individual maamarim. But we have to understand that, at the time, the chassidim did not yet know exactly. It was not yet so clear. The Alter Rebbe was only beginning to develop Chabad Chassidus. There had been the Baal Shem Tov and the Maggid, and the Alter Rebbe, a student of the Maggid, developed something deeper. But the Alter Rebbe’s approach was not yet so firmly established, so clear, or so well understood. So these maamarim give us the foundation for understanding what Chabad Chassidus is. This is really an introduction to the subject we are about to discuss, and, of course, its connection to Chanukah. What does the Alter Rebbe discuss in the maamar of 25 Kislev, and what does he discuss in the maamar “Blessed is He Who performed Miracles”? And how does that explain the whole idea of Chanukah? So here is the point. Chanukah comes around, and we say that the whole story of Chanukah began with the menorah in the Beis Hamikdash. In the Beis Hamikdash, there was a Kohen Gadol who would light

14:03 “When you kindle the lamps, the seven lamps shall shine toward the face of the menorah.” Every day, every evening, the Kohen Gadol would light the lamps of the Beis Hamikdash. The menorah in the Beis Hamikdash had seven lamps; oil had to be placed in them, and the Kohen Gadol would light them. That is the story of the menorah. Then came the story of the Chashmonaim and the Greeks, who wanted “to make them forget Your Torah and turn them away from the statutes of Your will.” So we see that the main focus of the decree had to do with the oil, with spirituality. That is why the main miracle was that they found a flask of oil sealed with the seal of the Kohen Gadol. It was enough for only one day, but a miracle occurred and it burned for eight days. That is the story. The question is: why? Why is this the story? What is it about? What are we meant to take from it? Why is this made the central point? What does the menorah signify? What does it mean that the Greeks wanted to defile the oil? What does this whole story mean? Even on the level of the straightforward study of Torah, we find this question raised by the commentators, the Pnei Yehoshua and others. They ask this question about the Gemara. It sounds as though the miracle is not about winning the war; the Gemara hardly makes an issue of that at all. So much so that when the Gemara asks, “What is Chanukah?” its answer begins, “When they entered...” It is as though the victory is a side issue. The Rebbe discusses this in many sichos. Everyone knows a number of the Rebbe’s sichos on what exactly is central to Chanukah. In particular, the mitzvah we actually perform shows us that the menorah is the central point. How do we explain this? In Chassidus, the Alter Rebbe discusses it in the maamar of 25 Kislev. Again, this maamar was delivered. This is very important.

15:47 When you know the history, it gives you a different geshmak when you learn the maamar. So the Alter Rebbe is speaking in 5559, a week after 19 Kislev. He has only just been released from prison. And what is the maamar about? The Alter Rebbe explains to the chassidim what the menorah is all about. He explains that the seven lamps are the seven middos—the emotional attributes, the work of the heart. There are seven middos: chesed, gevurah, tiferes, and so on. In our service, that means love of Hashem, fear of Hashem, compassion, determination, acknowledgment, connection, self-nullification, humility, uplifted spirits, joy. The whole matter of serving Hashem is called working on the middos. And working on the middos is the work we do in this world. The main work in this world is to refine the middos. That is why the soul descended here. As the Baal Shem Tov says, the main purpose of the soul’s descent is to change and refine the middos. Seven middos—the work of refining the middos. But when you work with the middos, friends, there is the opposing side. Just as there are middos in the G-dly soul, there are also middos in the animal soul. Just as there is an attribute of holiness, there is an opposing attribute of kelipah. And that is the battle: “One nation shall prevail over the other,” as it says in Tanya. There is love of Hashem, and there is love of worldly things. There is fear of Hashem, and there is fear... For every aspect of holiness, there is a counterpart in kelipah, and we have to refine the middos, work on them. How do we do that work? How do we refine the middos of the animal soul? The way is through contemplation—the intellect. That is the significance of the oil. That is the significance of the oil: “Let oil never be lacking upon your head.” Oil symbolizes the work of the mind. Aharon the Kohen would put oil into the vessels, into the branches of the menorah. Oil symbolizes the mind, chochmah. It is holy anointing oil, because oil is a liquid that floats

17:41 above every other liquid. As we discussed earlier, that points to the aspect of chochmah: koach mah, the power of self-nullification, which stands apart from everything else, and so on. In general, oil symbolizes contemplation. So the work is to put oil into the branches of the menorah. In other words, a person contemplates the greatness of Hashem—His greatness, His exaltedness, and His oneness. The Alter Rebbe explains there at length what that contemplation should be. And contemplation affects a person, bringing the light of holiness to the fore and bringing about change, as the mind gains the upper hand over the heart. That is how a person refines the middos. So, in general, lighting the lamps of the menorah means that a person must work on the middos through the mind. In the language of Chassidus, as we said, this is the work of the mind and the work of the heart. The work of the mind is contemplation, and through contemplation a person awakens the feelings of the heart, so that contemplation gives rise to love and fear, and so on—all the middos, each in its proper measure. That is the general idea of lighting the menorah. But this is speaking about normal times, when serving Hashem proceeds in the usual way. In the time of the Beis Hamikdash, things were in their proper state, and the soul was in its proper state. There was certainly a battle, but through contemplation you could refine the middos. What happens, though, when darkness grows stronger? That was what happened in the time of the Greeks. Their aim was specifically to introduce impurity into the mind through Greek wisdom. They brought in secular knowledge and wanted to corrupt holy wisdom. Intellect alone cannot get you past that. Ordinary thinking has already been tainted. That is what the Greeks did: they brought it into the intellect; they mixed the intellect

19:45 with human reasoning, with the thinking and wisdom of the nations, with the whole realm of secular knowledge. As a result, the intellect was no longer pure. That is the meaning of “they defiled all the oils in the Sanctuary.” The Greeks defiled the intellect, defiled the mind. The mind was no longer as it should be. So to set things right, something further had to be drawn down. Ordinary oil was not enough. Here you needed a flask of oil sealed with the seal of the Kohen Gadol. It was still oil; it was still a matter of intellect, oil, and chochmah—but on another level. It was oil from a different level, oil connected with the seal of the Kohen Gadol. In Chassidus, the Kohen Gadol represents yechidah. After all, the Kohen Gadol is the one who enters the Holy of Holies. In our service, this is the yechidah of the soul, the power of self-sacrifice, “with all your might.” It is an aspect of the mind, but the mind as it is connected with its innermost dimension; the mind as it is connected with the seal of the Kohen Gadol; the mind as it is connected with the soul’s yechidah, which shines within it. This is really what we call today [unclear]—the yechidah within purity. On the one hand, it is Chabad intellect, but Chabad as it is connected with the seal of the Kohen Gadol, with the inner dimension of the mind, with the innermost level of Atik, with the innermost soul. This is Chabad on a much higher level. It is a kind of will of the soul that the animal soul and the impurity of Greece cannot penetrate. The Greeks can corrupt things only when the work is on the outer level of the mind. When the work is in purity, we reveal purity, even the innermost dimension of purity. But as long as it is an intellect that has some relation to worldly existence—as long as the work is on the outer level of the mind—impurity can touch it. That is where this problem arises. But when the work is with the inner dimension

21:27 of the mind, with the mind as it is connected to the innermost soul, so that the soul’s yechidah shines in purity—purity connected with the essential bond—that is a different kind of oil. The Greeks cannot enter there, and then things can be set right. That is what the festival of Chanukah is about: bringing about that correction. And, in general, it is specifically in the time of exile that we light the lamps in the courtyard and at the entrance to the home, facing outside. The maamar explains this whole idea. That, in a nutshell, is the central point of the maamar the Alter Rebbe said on Chanukah 5559. In 5561, the Alter Rebbe adds a deeper point to the whole subject. In the maamar beginning “Baruch She’asah Nissim,” the Alter Rebbe says something remarkable. This follows what we said about the chassidim serving Hashem with tremendous fervor. Their work focused on the heart, and that work involved very great emotional arousal. Then, in “Baruch She’asah Nissim,” the Alter Rebbe discusses what might be lacking in work centered on the heart. Fine, work centered on the heart—what could be better? A person serves Hakadosh Boruch Hu with fervor. He has love of Hashem and a fiery enthusiasm, to the point that he becomes emotionally stirred. He jumps and dances and shouts and rejoices. What could be wrong with work centered on the heart? The Alter Rebbe says that when the work is only centered on the heart—of course there is intellect involved, but its main purpose here is to arouse the heart, to stir and excite the emotions—two problems, two shortcomings, can arise. One shortcoming is that when a person’s service is full of excitement, emotion, and fervor, he feels good about it. He finds it satisfying; he feels a sense of satisfaction. Ah, what a geshmak, how pleasant, how wonderful! He had such a

23:23 Enthusiasm, that kind of joy. He feels tremendous satisfaction, inner satisfaction, from the awakening he experienced, and what happens is that often he stays right there. That is enough for him; he feels fine, he feels good. As the Rebbe also says in a sicha elsewhere, sometimes a person does teshuvah and cries, but the crying does not lead him to do teshuvah. He stays with the crying. He was stirred to teshuvah, he cried, and he feels good. The Rebbe explains this in a sicha on Vayigash, volume 10. Why did Yosef cry over Binyamin, and Binyamin over Yosef? Because when you cry over yourself, very often you just feel good. You get inner satisfaction: Look, I cried. That proves I was stirred to teshuvah. It proves I’m all right. It proves this hurt me. So I already feel good about myself, as though I’ve done teshuvah. I regretted it—but the person does not correct anything. There is no change going forward. Sometimes it is precisely when you don’t cry that you look for ways to correct things, to build. Instead of crying and feeling good about the crying, you look to correct, to build, to act, and not be satisfied with crying. There are stories people tell about this, but in any case, we won’t get into stories now. The point is simple, and you can see it in practice. Often there’s a farbrengen—a farbrengen, a meal, a table set with food, singing and dancing and excitement. There’s a whole farbrengen: ah, it’s so rich and full, such an atmosphere, with joy and gladness and celebration! But the next day people get up late, and afterward, what was there? Nothing. I don’t know what they spoke about. I don’t know. Nothing remains. All that remains is a faint sense that there was once a good farbrengen, but nothing practical came of it. So the Alter Rebbe says this in the maamar Shoresh Hanissim: when the avodah

25:07 is the avodah of the heart, sometimes a person feels satisfied with his excitement and the effect it has on him, and it stays there. It has no continuation; it does not last. By contrast, when it is the avodah of the mind, the mind looks for something practical. The mind is not satisfied with just—avodah of the mind means contemplating the greatness of Hashem, contemplating it in a way that the person follows the thought through to its conclusion. That is, we are talking about avodah of the mind as it should be. He concentrates on the subject and considers what it demands of me. In other words, what—what, right? When you contemplate the greatness of Hakadosh Boruch Hu, contemplate G-dliness, contemplate—then what? What does it mean? The intellect calls for a practical conclusion, until it leads to something actual in thought, speech, and action, so that his conduct throughout the day follows what his mind understood. So that is another advantage of the avodah of the mind: it produces results throughout the day, whereas the avodah of the heart can stop at the feeling itself. That is one more point. And the Alter Rebbe says a second thing: the nurture of the external forces. When there is an emotional stirring, excitement and arousal, it can give rise to the nurture of the external forces. What does that mean? It is what the verse says: “A fool does not desire understanding, but only to reveal his heart.” The Rebbe Rashab discusses this at length in several places. He too speaks about how sometimes, when a person is caught up in a state of emotional excitement, that excitement afterward becomes a sense of self. Middos, by their very nature, involve a sense of self, because in middos a person feels: I feel good; this is for me; I love, I rejoice, I feel. So with middos, everything comes back to the “I,” and the person is at the center. The “I,” the good feeling that comes from feeling something. There is a sense of self here, and when the self is at the center, that can later develop into

26:57 outright self-importance. True, during davening it is love of Hashem. But after he finishes davening, that “I” is still felt—the excitement, the warmth—and that same warmth can then find its way into the cholent, the kugel, and so on. Along these lines, Chassidus says that joy can turn into frivolity. He began with joy, but the joy lacked bittul, so it became an expression of self, and then joy turns into frivolity and sometimes into belittling someone else. You see this at a farbrengen too: sometimes you begin a farbrengen with the aim of bringing joy, but if you don’t observe the proper boundaries, in the end the joy turns into disturbing others. You can cause shviras hakeilim for other people, not for yourself. In any case, all sorts of things happen that are the opposite of what was intended. So this is what it means: because middos have an element of self at their foundation, it is easier for them to reach a state where the external forces draw nurture from them, leading to undesirable situations. By contrast, the avodah of the mind—the intellect is objective, more focused on the matter itself. It is not looking for itself; it is looking for the truth. So the intellect elevates the soul, raises the person to a place of bittul, a place where the “I” is not at the center. He seeks concentration; he seeks the truth, his truth. So there is a foundation of bittul here. Of course, the ultimate goal is for this to reach the feelings of the heart too. But when the feelings of the heart are built on the avodah of the mind, they also have the advantage of bittul, and then they will not lead to the nurture of the external forces. That is the advantage of the avodah of the mind over the avodah of the heart. The Alter Rebbe says in the maamar Biur Shoresh Hanissim that this is the miracle of Chanukah. It is the story of the miracle of the menorah: the whole story of Chanukah is connected with oil, specifically

28:39 the oil of the menorah. What is special about the menorah’s oil? The menorah’s oil burns without any noise, without any outward excitement. Chassidus explains that there are different kinds of fire. There is a fire that burns wood or meat, substantial things. That fire comes with noise, smell, smoke, and—it is a fire with a great deal of commotion. By contrast, the fire of the menorah comes from oil, and the oil itself is olive oil—“pure olive oil, crushed for the light.” The first drop, as Rashi says. It is the finest of the fine of the fine. And you see that the lamp, the oil, the flame of the menorah makes no noise. It burns calmly and quietly, with composure and deliberation. In avodah, this is called the avodah of the mind. The difference between the avodah of the mind and the avodah of the heart is that the avodah of the heart comes with noise and excitement, because it is bound up with a sense of self and with materiality. You have to fight the “I,” the sense of self. So there is a great deal of enthusiasm and emotional stirring. The avodah of the mind, by contrast, is calm and quiet, composed and deliberate. So the miracle of Chanukah is specifically a miracle involving the oil of the menorah, because Chanukah is about highlighting and elevating the avodah of the mind over the avodah of the heart. That was really the point. This is what the Rebbe explains in the maamar Biur Shoresh Hanissim: Chanukah is specifically connected with the flame of the menorah, which represents the avodah of the mind—serving Hashem in the Chabad way, inwardly, with composure, deliberation, quiet, and bittul. And with that in mind, friends, listen to another insight from Chassidus based on this principle. I’m not talking about that maamar; this is a different one. There is a teaching of the Alter Rebbe on Behaaloscha, and in several other places, where the Alter Rebbe explains that this also accounts for something remarkable that we see—and we’ll come to Chanukah. As is well known, Rashi says

30:37 When the altar was dedicated—on Chanukah, after all, the Torah reading is about the dedication of the altar—the nesi’im brought offerings, and so on. Then it says that Aharon HaKohen felt disheartened. Right? Rashi says this in Parshas Behaaloscha, which we read on the last day of Chanukah. Rashi says that when Aharon HaKohen saw the dedication of the altar, he felt disheartened because he had not taken part in it. He was distressed that he had not merited to participate in the dedication of the altar. So Hakadosh Boruch Hu told him, “By your life, yours is greater than theirs.” Why? Because you light the lamps. Your lighting of the lamps is greater than what they did. Chassidus asks—and there are many sichos about this—what kind of answer is that? It doesn’t address his complaint. Aharon HaKohen says he wasn’t part of the dedication of the altar, and Hakadosh Boruch Hu tells him, “You light the lamps.” What’s the connection? Those are two different things. Fine, I light the lamps, but that’s not what I’m asking about. I want to take part in the dedication of the altar. Where’s the answer to that? There are many sichos and many explanations, but there is a wonderful insight in Chassidus that follows from what we were discussing earlier. What does “yours is greater than theirs” mean? Why is it greater? Let’s say the answer is that Aharon HaKohen also performed a dedication: they dedicated the altar, and he dedicated the menorah. That, too, needs to be understood. There are sichos in which the Rebbe explains this according to nigleh and according to the plain meaning. There are several sichos in Likkutei Sichos on Parshas Behaaloscha that discuss it. But according to Chassidus, the insight is wonderful. Theirs was the dedication of the altar, involving offerings. Offerings are connected with fire—the fire of the altar.

32:26 That is a fire that consumes flesh, a fire that consumes flesh. It’s a fire accompanied by noise and excitement. As we said earlier, this is called bittul hayesh, the nullification of the self. But to Aharon HaKohen, Hakadosh Boruch Hu says, “Yours is greater than theirs.” Your fire is the fire of the menorah. The fire of the menorah is exceedingly refined. The fire of the menorah is bittul bimetzius, complete self-nullification. This is not the service of the heart; it is the service of the mind. In other words, Hakadosh Boruch Hu tells Aharon HaKohen: The nesi’im and the dedication of the altar are connected with the outer dimension of the heart—the service of the heart, not the service of the mind. The service of bittul hayesh involves excitement. But yours, lighting the menorah’s fire, is a different kind of fire. It is a subtler fire; it is bittul bimetzius, not bittul hayesh. And the service of the mind is far higher than the service of the heart: “Yours is greater than theirs.” That is precisely the point. Based on everything we’ve explained so far, one might think there is something wrong with the service of the heart, as though we were completely dismissing the service of the heart, spiritual excitement, and bittul hayesh. Of course, that would be a mistake. As Chassidus explains—and the Rebbe also cites this in the well-known Reshimas Hamenorah—the Rebbe refers there to Ayin Beis. The notes below say that it is actually in Samech Vov. Interesting: the Rebbe pointed to Ayin Beis, but the subject is explained in Samech Vov. In Hemshech 5666, the Rebbe Rashab discusses this. He says that although the fire of the menorah and the fire of the inner altar are much higher than the fire of the outer altar, where did they take the fire to kindle the inner altar? Likewise, to light the menorah, they had to take fire from the outer altar. They

34:20 took coals from the outer altar and used them to kindle the other fires. So what do we learn from this? With all due respect to the fire of the menorah and the fire of the incense, which represent higher levels of avodah and self-nullification, there is nevertheless a special virtue specifically in the fire of the outer altar, the fire of the offerings. Why? It is connected with the whole matter of avodas habirurim, refining the world. There is a virtue in bittul hayesh, and specifically in spiritual excitement, because nullifying the self and bringing the animal soul to a state of bittul must be achieved through the service of the heart, which in this respect goes further than the service of the mind. As the Rebbe Rashab says in Hemshech 5672, even after explaining the tremendous heights of “concealed Abba and Imma” and the virtues of the loftiest forms of love and awe, he says: Nevertheless, in view of the purpose of making a dwelling for Hashem in the lower realms, and the purpose of the soul’s descent below—the soul descended not to perfect itself but to perfect the body and the animal soul, and so on—there must be avodah specifically in the chamber of the heart, bringing it there. That is why we say that, from the perspective of avodas habirurim, there is a virtue specifically in the fire of the outer altar. That is why the coals were brought from there. Ultimately, then, the goal of our avodah is to combine both virtues: to have the virtue of the service of the mind together with the virtue of the service of the heart. And there is the insight the Frierdiker Rebbe writes about “How fortunate are we, how good is our portion, how pleasant is our lot, and how beautiful is our inheritance,” which we say every morning. The Frierdiker Rebbe explains: What do these words mean? What are we saying here? There are three things: “How fortunate are we, how good is our portion, how pleasant is our lot, and how beautiful is our inheritance.” So what does he write?

36:06 “How fortunate are we.” He writes: “How fortunate are we, how good is our portion in the service of the mind; how pleasant is our lot in the service of the heart; and how beautiful is our inheritance in revealing the essential Jewish point, fulfilling Hakadosh Boruch Hu’s purpose of making a dwelling in the lower realms.” In other words, these words we say in davening contain the three ideas we’ve discussed here. There is the service of the mind, there is the service of the heart, and there is the essential Jewish point, which is the ultimate purpose: to fulfill the intention of making a dwelling for Him in the lower realms. So we need to join the mind and the heart and bring this into actual avodah, in thought, speech, and action—“at the entrance to his home, facing outward”—and make a dwelling for Him in the lower realms. In any case, we see here how all these ideas of Chabad Chassidus fit together. The Alter Rebbe began, immediately after his release from imprisonment, with the maamar beginning “On the Twenty-Fifth of Kislev,” and then a year later, on 15 Kislev, with the maamar “With the Creator Who Performs Miracles.” The Alter Rebbe began explaining to us what Chabad Chassidus is about and what its avodah should look like. The main innovation of Chabad is the service of the mind. But at the same time, the mind must not remain a mere intellectual school, learning for its own sake, G-d forbid. The intellectual understanding must affect the service of the heart, but in the right way, in the right balance: joining the service of the mind and the service of the heart and bringing them into practice, to actually serve Hashem and make a dwelling for Him in the lower realms, with “the entrance to his home facing outward.” I’ll finish with a wonderful point I saw in a sicha of the Rebbe from 5707. There is a maamar the Rebbe said in 5707 on the twenty-fifth of Kislev. Its content is based on teachings that also address this whole subject of avodah. He discusses there the whole subject we’ve spoken about here—interestingly, the service of the mind and so on. He also discusses keser, a point we haven’t really spoken about.

37:56 After that, at the farbrengen, the Rebbe says that we saw this with our Rebbeim. I think it was at that same farbrengen—there were two farbrengens, for Vayeishev and Mikeitz, in 5707, and I don’t remember which one it was. In any case, following the maamar, the Rebbe addresses something many people ask: In Chabad, we don’t make a big commotion over the Chanukah lighting. On the one hand, we make a big commotion out in the street, but when it comes to lighting the candles at home, we specifically light them indoors, quietly, with just the members of the household. For the Rebbeim, it was a whole point that they did not want anyone else there. It is also known that when the Rebbe lit the candles, he would wait until no one else was there—not even his secretary. He lit the candles in a very, very personal way. So the Rebbe points out that with the Rebbeim, Chanukah was marked in the most inward and quiet way imaginable, even though we speak of publicizing the miracle on Chanukah. Among the Polish chassidim, every night of Chanukah was a festive occasion. Everyone would come; there was a commotion; the Rebbe, the Admor, would light the candles outside, with songs and praises. That was not how our Rebbeim did it, and the Rebbe did not either. So what does it mean? As the Rebbe explains following the maamar, it has to do with the work of the intellect. In other words, for all the commotion of publicizing the miracle throughout the world, Chanukah is connected with the... with the... with the work of the intellect, with the work of oil—and oil floats. This oil shines in a settled, measured, quiet way. It is an avodah of setting aside one’s own sense of self. That is why this avodah is done in utmost privacy, in utmost quiet, without noise. This is, in fact,

39:38 refinement in a manner of tranquility. And in this way, very soon, through each of us devoting ourselves in these days to the study of Chassidus—as the Rebbe always spoke to the bochurim about Chanukah gelt, that there must be the study of the inner dimension of Torah together with making an impact on the world—we will merit to see it with our own eyes of flesh: the Third Beis Hamikdash and the holy city of Zion, in the true and complete Geulah through our righteous Moshiach.