Faith in the Coming of Moshiach - Rabbi Sholom Dovber Wolff shlita

00:02 Speaker 1 You’re listening to “Lema’an Yishme’u,” a podcast of Machon Halacha Chabad.

00:09 Speaker 2 “Anyone who does not believe in him, or who does not await his coming, denies not only the other prophets but the Torah and Moshe Rabbeinu. For the Torah itself testifies about him, as it says: ‘Hashem your G-d will restore your fortunes and have mercy on you, and He will gather you again. Even if your dispersed ones are at the ends of the heavens, Hashem will bring you back.’” These explicit statements in the Torah encompass everything said by all the prophets. The Rambam then continues and brings Parshas Balak, where the prophecy of Bilaam also speaks about Moshiach. The cities of refuge also allude to Moshiach. So there are three places in the Torah where Moshiach appears. He concludes: “But in the words of the prophets, the matter requires no proof, for all the books are full of it.” Yes, open any of the books of the prophets—Yeshayahu, Yechezkel, Yirmiyahu—and they speak about it. “A shoot shall emerge from the stem of Yishai, and a branch shall grow from his roots”; “My servant David shall be king over them, and they shall all have one shepherd”; and all the other prophecies about the future Geulah and the coming of Moshiach. So the Rambam says that in the books of the prophets, the matter requires no proof. Moshiach is clear there. What does the Rambam want to show? How did he begin? It’s not just in the books of the prophets; it’s in the Torah, in Moshe Rabbeinu. Yes, the Torah itself testifies about him. The Torah speaks less about this subject, but the Rambam shows us several places in the Torah that do speak about it. From this, the Rambam reaches his conclusion: anyone who does not believe in him or does not await his coming denies not only the other prophets but the Torah and Moshe Rabbeinu. Those are the Rambam’s words. And here we need to pause over them again. First, what difference does it make whether a person denies the other prophets or the Torah and Moshe Rabbeinu? Both are important. Well, everyone

01:58 Speaker 2 understands that the Torah and Moshe Rabbeinu carry greater weight than the other books of the prophets, but there’s still a point here that needs sharpening. In that same sicha, in Likkutei Sichos, volume 18, and also in volume 34, Parshas Shoftim—where the subject of the cities of refuge appears—the Rebbe discusses the difference between prophecy and Torah. Let’s spend a few minutes on that difference. We spoke about it earlier; we’ll return to it now, and through it we’ll understand the momentous point the Rambam is making here: someone who has a problem believing in the coming of Moshiach has a problem with the Torah and Moshe Rabbeinu themselves. As we mentioned earlier, not everyone understood what the Rambam meant, and some took some issue with his words, as we’ll see shortly. Broadly speaking, what really is the difference between prophecy and the Torah and Moshe Rabbeinu? Moshe Rabbeinu was also a prophet. He gave us the Torah, and other prophets came after him. So you might think that prophecy has levels: a great prophet, and then an even greater prophet. But ultimately, they would all seem to be on the same scale. The Rebbe explains in the sichos, drawing on the Rambam’s words in Hilchos Yesodei HaTorah and elsewhere, that they are not at all the same thing. In the language of Chassidus, the language of the Rebbe’s sichos, Torah is above the world—G-dliness that is above the world. The Torah preceded the world. A prophet, in the Rambam’s words, comes only to inform us of things that will happen in the world. The prophet and the divine messages he conveys are, in essence, part of the world’s reality. And here, perhaps, when you listen to

03:52 Speaker 2 the Rebbe’s sichos, the Rebbe says it so simply, but it may help to introduce the idea and sharpen it. Chassidus often uses these concepts, as do the Rebbe’s sichos: G-dliness that relates to the world, and G-dliness that is above the world. In the language of Kabbalah and the Zohar, as cited in Tanya and elsewhere: “memalei kol almin and sovev kol almin”—“filling all worlds” and “encompassing all worlds.” What does that mean? In a certain sense, you could call Hakadosh Boruch Hu part of reality. There is a world; there are inanimate things, plants, animals, and human beings; and there is also Hakadosh Boruch Hu within that same reality. That is the reality. In the Rambam’s words, He is “the first Existence, who brings every existing thing into being.” He made the distinctions between inanimate things, plants, animals, and human beings. He gave every plant its particular form, and every living creature its particular way of life. He gives them life and provides everything they need. But ultimately, you could think of Hakadosh Boruch Hu as part of the world’s reality—the truest and most important part. But think for a moment: how does a person know in the first place that there is a Hakadosh Boruch Hu? As the Rambam describes Avraham Avinu, he contemplated the world. He saw the system of stars moving and said: there must be a sphere that moves them, and someone must turn that sphere. There is someone beyond it, someone who precedes everything. So from the reality of the world, Avraham Avinu came to recognize that there is someone here: an owner, a director, a guide. That is G-dliness revealed within the reality of the world. In the language of Chassidus, G-dliness that relates to the world. But the truth is that Hakadosh Boruch Hu Himself is above all this. He created the world

05:41 Speaker 2 ex nihilo, and before that there was nothing. He is not defined by the world’s definitions or limited by its limitations; He is beyond this entire reality. Again, in the terms of Chassidus: G-dliness that relates to the world and G-dliness that is above the world. We could call this natural conduct and miraculous conduct. Who directs nature? Hakadosh Boruch Hu directs nature. Who gives life to plants, animals, and human beings? Hakadosh Boruch Hu does. Who establishes the laws of nature, ensures that things happen as they do, and maintains those laws? Hakadosh Boruch Hu does it all. Natural conduct comes from Hakadosh Boruch Hu; it is Hakadosh Boruch Hu as He has confined Himself to the bounds of nature and the world. Miraculous conduct is when Hakadosh Boruch Hu suddenly wants to take the Jewish people out of Egypt and turns water into blood, a staff into a snake, and splits the sea. Suddenly you see that He is beyond what we thought. The world turns out not to be quite as solid a reality as we thought, and Hakadosh Boruch Hu is greater than we thought. Miraculous conduct reveals G-dliness that is above the world. But natural conduct is also G-dliness; it too is Hakadosh Boruch Hu—G-dliness that relates to the world. Back to our subject: when we speak about prophecy and Torah, prophecy—when a person comes and says, “Listen, Hakadosh Boruch Hu told me this and this”—is part of the world’s natural reality. There is a world, there is physicality, and there is a person’s soul. Spirituality, too, is part of the world’s natural reality, part of the natural system. A person has a soul, so he lives. When the soul departs, he dies. That is part of the laws of nature, part of the natural system: the fact that there is a soul, and that there is, you understand, someone who gives life. If Hakadosh Boruch Hu gives life to everything,

07:32 Speaker 2 You understand that, ultimately, this too is part of what we might call the natural order: G-dliness that is on the world’s level, as we discussed earlier. But if there’s a person with a body and a soul, and there’s Hakadosh Boruch Hu, they can also speak to each other. Hakadosh Boruch Hu can reveal Himself to that person, to his soul, and the person can tell you what Hakadosh Boruch Hu said to him. That’s all. It isn’t a miracle. Turning the sea into dry land is a miracle. Turning water into blood is a miracle. But when someone comes and says, “Hakadosh Boruch Hu told me such and such,” that isn’t a miracle. It’s part of natural reality, part of the— And the messages too. This is what the Rebbe says in his sichos on the Rambam about prophecy: the messages a prophet delivers aren’t miracles. What does he say? Reward and punishment? Yes, reward and punishment aren’t a miracle. Gan Eden isn’t a miracle. The Rebbe says so explicitly. Gan Eden is part of natural reality. There’s a physical realm and there’s also a spiritual realm; there’s a body and there’s also a soul. The body dies, and the soul remains. That isn’t a miracle. There’s an interesting point here from the Ramban. There’s the famous question: Why doesn’t the Torah—why, when the Torah says, “If you walk in My statutes,” and “I will give your rains in their season,” doesn’t it speak about Gan Eden, about the reward of souls? After all, the Sadducees, who believed in the Written Torah, didn’t believe in Gan Eden, in reward beyond this life, in reward after death. Why didn’t they believe in it? Because it isn’t stated explicitly in the Written Torah. It says, “I will give your rains in their season, and the land will yield its produce”—all physical things here in this world. So the question arises: If our Sages—and the Oral Torah—speak about this so emphatically, why isn’t it found in the Written Torah? It’s a question the Rambam addresses, and the Ramban addresses it too.

09:13 Speaker 2 The Rambam answers in his own way. The Ramban gives an interesting answer, one that fits what the Rambam says elsewhere. He says there are things the Torah doesn’t need to tell us. If a person does good deeds and studies Torah, and after death enjoys the radiance of the Shechinah—that’s natural. But “If you walk in My statutes, I will give your rains in their season” isn’t natural. Rain falling because of tefillin isn’t a natural thing; it’s a miracle. Rain itself seems completely natural, doesn’t it? But to say, “Listen, rain falls because of tefillin, rain falls because of Shabbos, ‘the land will yield its produce, and the tree of the field will yield its fruit’”—in the natural order, there’s no connection between the two. That’s a miracle. What does “miracle” mean? Divine intervention from outside the natural order. That’s something the Torah needs to tell us about; that’s something the Torah needs to promise. But that after death the soul goes to enjoy the radiance of the Shechinah, and that the more mitzvos a person fulfills in this world, the greater its enjoyment will be—the Ramban says that isn’t a miracle. It’s natural; it’s part of the natural order. Under the laws of nature governing the world, there’s a physical world and a spiritual world, a body and a soul. Both are natural; it’s all part of the same reality. Hakadosh Boruch Hu doesn’t need to intervene for it to happen. He created the world with these rules from the outset, and that’s how it works. That’s what the Ramban says, and it fits explicitly with what the Rambam says in similar places—for example, in Igeres Techiyas Hameisim, where the Rambam also touches on this point. Why, after all, was the Rambam suspected of not believing in the Resurrection of the Dead? Why did he write Igeres Techiyas Hameisim? Because people suspected he didn’t believe in the Resurrection. Why did they suspect him? For several reasons. For example, he says, “Do not imagine that King Moshiach must perform signs and wonders, or resurrect the dead.” He meant that this isn’t Moshiach’s role, yes? But a statement like that didn’t sound right to them. It—

10:58 Speaker 2 “There’s no Resurrection of the Dead”—[unclear]. And one of the reasons was that, although he explicitly mentioned the Resurrection of the Dead in his work, he mentioned it only very briefly. Yes, there will be a Resurrection of the Dead, and that’s all. But he spoke at great length about Gan Eden, explaining what it means: the delight, the understanding, how spiritual delight isn’t physical delight. So that made people think, “Wait a minute. He speaks about one at length and the other briefly. With one, it’s obvious that he’s discussing it; with the other, you could almost miss it.” So some people thought that perhaps he didn’t really believe in the Resurrection of the Dead, G-d forbid. The Rambam then had to write Igeres Techiyas Hameisim to discuss these subjects and clarify his position. There he addresses this very point. Why does he speak at length about Gan Eden, which he calls the World to Come, but only briefly about the Resurrection of the Dead? He says it’s simple: Gan Eden is a natural thing. The spiritual realm is part of nature; the intellect can understand it. So I have something to discuss, something to explain. I can demonstrate it to you; I can explain what’s there and what it means, as far as physical people can understand it. It’s something I have something to say about. The Resurrection of the Dead is a miracle. It isn’t according to nature. What do you want me to say? Do you want me to prove it to you? There are no proofs. It’s written in the Torah—that’s the only thing. There are no proofs beyond that. Explain what it is to you? I have nothing to explain. I don’t

12:19 Speaker 2 know what it is. It’s a miracle. So that’s why I kept it brief. In a way, he’s returning to the same point: reward and punishment, Gan Eden, are G-dliness that is on the world’s level. When Hakadosh Boruch Hu speaks to us in terms of reward and punishment—the very concept of Gan Eden is a reality, part of the world’s reality—and when He speaks to us in the language of reward and punishment, “Do this and you’ll have this; don’t do this and you won’t”—that’s still G-dliness on the world’s level. You’re a reality; you feel that your existence matters. You need reasons to study Torah and fulfill mitzvos, so we’ll give you reasons. Torah is G-dliness that— Wait, before Torah: a prophet is part of this too. A prophet comes with spiritual messages that he received by spiritual means. That isn’t a miracle; it’s natural. The prophet says, “It’s worthwhile for you to fulfill mitzvos; it isn’t worthwhile for you to neglect them.” He speaks to us on a level where we matter, where we have an existence. It’s worthwhile for you, or it isn’t worthwhile for you. The choice is yours, right? He acknowledges our reality. What does he promise us? Either physical reward or spiritual reward—and both are part of the world’s reality. So even if there’s a Divine message here, it’s a Divine message on the world’s level. Torah is something above the world. “If you walk in My statutes, I will give your rains in their season” is a miracle; it isn’t according to nature. In the Torah there are statutes, ordinances, and chukim. Chukim are things about which Hashem says, “I have enacted a statute; I have issued a decree.” You aren’t meant to understand. You look at it and ask, “Wait, how does this help me in the world?” No—maybe it doesn’t help you in the world at all. You aren’t meant to understand it, and it isn’t meant to help you. “A pleasing aroma—a source of pleasure before Me, for I spoke and My will was done,” right? And you will do it, not because you’ll receive a reward or receive

13:57 Speaker 2 Punishment. There is reward and there is punishment, but that is not the point. Kabbolas ol: this is what Hakadosh Boruch Hu wants, so this is what we must do. It does not matter whether it is comfortable or uncomfortable, whether it suits us or not. This is all the language of G-dliness that transcends the world. Torah is G-dliness that transcends the world. Prophecy—prophecy existed even before the giving of the Torah, before Moshe Rabbeinu. Prophecy is something that exists even among the nations of the world. Even Bilaam was a prophet, of a sort. Yes, Torah is G-dliness. Why is there prophecy among the nations of the world too? Because they are part of the reality of the world. A person is a normal human being, living in the world, and Hakadosh Boruch Hu can speak to him. He does not have to be Jewish for that. A Jew, especially after the revelation at Mount Sinai and the giving of the Torah, has something within him that is beyond nature, outside the reality of the world. A Jew is capable of kabbolas ol that goes beyond understanding. Jews have the Torah, 613 mitzvos that are above nature and above reason. It is a decree. We fulfill them without making calculations, with mesirus nefesh, right? That is Torah. It is G-dliness that transcends the world. Now, a prophet also warns people about matters of Torah: do this and do not do that, right? It is in your interest; “Remember the Torah of Moshe My servant,” right? These are all things the Rambam discusses in Hilchos Yesodei HaTorah. But even when a prophet speaks about matters of Torah, it is as though he is saying, “It is good for you to do this; it is not good for you to do that,” right? That is not Torah in its pure form. Torah, as Moshe Rabbeinu gives it to us, is G-dliness that transcends the world. That is something else entirely. Okay, until now we have been talking about prophecy and Torah in general, as they are, not specifically in connection with Moshiach. I mean, let us call it 613 mitzvos on the one hand, and reward and punishment on the other. Reward and punishment belong to the prophets. The 613 mitzvos belong to

15:43 Speaker 2 Torah, to kabbolas ol. Reward and punishment are about what is worthwhile for me, about my own reality. Mitzvos are kabbolas ol: they are what Hashem wants, the supreme will that is above reason and above nature. Now, today we are talking about Moshiach. What is Moshiach? Which category does he fit into? Is Moshiach a reward, or is Moshiach a mitzvah? Is Moshiach a matter of... And therefore, is Moshiach a matter of the prophets, or a matter of the Torah and Moshe Rabbeinu? The Rambam comes along, and that sentence of his—“He denies not only the words of the other prophets, but also the Torah and Moshe Rabbeinu”—is a very significant sentence, right? It actually defines... This is not just a question of where it is written, but of what it is in the first place. Here it really touches directly on that point. After all, Moshiach will be good for us, right? People will be well versed in the Torah and its wisdom; they will have no oppressor or anyone to prevent them from studying, right? Good things will be available in abundance, as the Rambam mentions later. Right? Things that are good for us, which he did not mention here, as we saw. There is a reason he did not mention them here. He says Moshiach will also be good for us, for each person in his own life. The coming of Moshiach is also, in a certain sense, a kind of reward. But that is not the point of Moshiach. The point of Moshiach brings us back to everything we said earlier. There is the supreme will, which is above reason and above nature, and what does it want? The fulfillment of the 613 mitzvos in actual practice. And what is Moshiach? The supreme will being realized in practice. The supreme will, which is above the world and above nature, will be realized in practice. In other words, is Moshiach in our interest or in the interest of Hakadosh Boruch Hu? If it is a reward and something pleasant, then it is in our interest. But, right, according to the way the Rambam begins here, what will happen

17:33 Speaker 2 when Moshiach comes? All the mitzvos will be fulfilled. Who wants the mitzvos? He does; He commanded them. Moshiach is in His interest. If Moshiach is a matter of reward, it is in our interest—so where should it be written? In the books of the prophets. And indeed, the books of the prophets speak about it. But Moshiach is not only that. Moshiach is something much deeper. Moshiach is in the interest of Hakadosh Boruch Hu; it is the supreme will. So where is that written? In the Torah. It is something that must be written in the Torah, something the Torah speaks about and Moshe Rabbeinu speaks about, because this is a matter that transcends the world. The Torah, which preceded the world, speaks about it. And... yes, that is what the Rambam is emphasizing: “He denies not only the words of the other prophets, but also the Torah and Moshe Rabbeinu.” And this connects with what the Rambam does in his discussion of the coming of Moshiach. In other words, if it is only a matter of reward and only a matter of the prophets, then if someone does not believe in the coming of Moshiach, he has a problem only with the prophets, as we discussed. The Torah is the main thing, and the prophets speak about it from around it, right? If Moshiach is only a matter of reward, then it is only a matter of the prophets. So if, for some reason, a person lacks that belief, he is missing something secondary, something particular. But if Moshiach is in the interest of Hakadosh Boruch Hu, the supreme will written in the Torah itself, then someone who is lacking in his belief in Moshiach is lacking something in the very essence, in the foundation. One more point along the same lines, to explain this further: the way the Rebbe speaks about it. Why is it so fundamental? Yes, we said earlier that it is in the interest of Hakadosh Boruch Hu; it is

19:14 Speaker 2 the supreme will. And why is it so important for me to be aware of that, to believe in it? As the Rebbe explains, it simply has to do with the completeness of the Torah. If the Torah is true, if I believe that the Torah is true and eternal and unchanging, I should believe that ultimately this is what will happen. If someone is not sure that this will happen in the end, then even now, to him, the Torah is a kind of theory, somewhat removed from the world. Where do we see this point, this connection between belief in the Torah and belief in the coming of Moshiach, especially clearly? In Iggeres Teiman, which the Rambam himself wrote—the same Rambam. What is the story? What is the background? In Yemen, there were Jews who were truly struggling with the hardships of galus, both materially and, in this context, mainly spiritually. What was the difficulty? The nations of the world, the enemies of the Jewish people—the Arabs, the Muslims in Yemen—would come to the Jews and say: “Look, Hakadosh Boruch Hu has abandoned you.” What was their proof? The simplest, most visible proof: so many years had passed since the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash, and the Jewish people were still in galus. And not merely in galus; from generation to generation they were becoming poorer. Meanwhile, the Muslims, in the Rambam’s time, were prospering and conquering more and more. Why? Because Hakadosh Boruch Hu had abandoned you and was now with us. Yes, everything is different now. That is what they would tell the Jews, causing them distress and confusion. So the Jews of Yemen wrote a letter to the Rambam, telling him what was happening to them, including this. The Rambam sent them a letter in reply, Iggeres Teiman, in which he addresses these matters. He speaks very forcefully about the fact that Hakadosh Boruch Hu will not replace the Torah: “The revealed things belong to us and to our children forever.” The Torah will not be replaced, and Hakadosh Boruch Hu

21:11 Speaker 2 That won’t happen. Hashem will not, G-d forbid, replace the Jewish people. “Yet even then, when they are in the land of their enemies, I will not reject them or abhor them; I am Hashem their G-d.” Of course—how could it be otherwise? But the Arabs come and say: Reality shows otherwise. The reality is that we’ve already been in exile for so many years, and we don’t see any change. On the contrary, our enemies are growing stronger. So the Rambam says: Know that it’s all temporary. “Your descendants shall be like the dust of the earth.” The Rambam gives an interesting interpretation. What does “Your descendants shall be like the dust of the earth” mean? The simple meaning is that they will be as numerous as dust. But the Rambam explains: Like dust, which everyone treads on, but in the end it covers everyone. So too the Jewish people: everyone treads on them, but in the end they will cover everyone. Then he says: Right now it is a time of exile, and the true faith is not apparent. But inevitably, a man descended from Shlomo will arise, reveal the true faith, and destroy anyone who defies his word. In the end, someone genuine, someone mighty, will come and show everyone what is true and what is false, what is eternal and what is temporary. So that, broadly speaking, is the content of Igeres Teiman. And the Rambam writes: Publicize this to everyone—men, women, and children—so that everyone knows what is written here, everyone knows these fundamentals, things they absolutely must know. That is the point of Igeres Teiman. And there it is very, very clear that the Rambam speaks about the coming of Moshiach not as a reward. He is not saying, “It’s worth enduring the hardships of exile because things will be good in the end.” Rather, he presents it as the truth. Wait—we have the truth. Eternity is ours. Where do we see that? In the end, Moshiach will come,

22:56 Speaker 2 and then we will see that the Torah—when we think about it, we know that our Torah is true and eternal, without replacement, G-d forbid, and without changes. Again, he does not speak of Moshiach as a reward, something good that will happen in the end and perhaps make the suffering worthwhile. He speaks of it simply as the truth. That is the truth. In the end, Moshiach will come, and then everyone will see that the Torah is true. These are the words of the Rebbe—of the Rambam—in Igeres Teiman, and I think they connect very closely with what the Rebbe explains here in this halachah of the Rambam. The Rambam says, “One who does not believe in him denies the Torah and Moshe Rabbeinu, for the Torah testified about him.” And as we mentioned earlier, some disagreed with the Rambam. They did not understand why the Rambam put it this way. Why does the Rambam treat the coming of Moshiach as such a fundamental matter in Judaism? Rabbi Yosef Albo, a Spanish sage several generations after the Rambam, wrote Sefer HaIkkarim about the principles of faith. He says there are three principles: the existence of Hashem, Torah from Heaven, and reward and punishment. These are the foundations, and various other things follow from them. He says these are the three fundamental things. Again: the existence of Hashem, Torah from Heaven, and reward and punishment—that Hakadosh Boruch Hu watches over His creations. Those are the three principles; everything else follows from them. The coming of Moshiach? Certainly, it is true. It is written in the Torah. Certainly he will come. But the coming of Moshiach is a detail, not a principle; it is a kind of reward. Hakadosh Boruch Hu will give us good things. So what? Why does the Rambam make it a principle? And so he maintains his position and disagrees with the Rambam. A generation later, the Abarbanel comes and writes a book, Rosh Amanah, on these same subjects. He explains: Yes, the coming of Moshiach is mentioned in the Torah, in the Prophets,

24:38 Speaker 2 and in the Writings, in many contexts. We see that it is something very important, very fundamental. But that answer doesn’t really answer the question. I understand that its frequent mention probably indicates that there is something significant about it. But what? I’m asking: What is so fundamental and important if the coming of Moshiach is a kind of reward, one form of reward among others? All right, we have to believe there will be a reward. Does the good have to come in precisely this way rather than another? And if there were only Gan Eden, wouldn’t that be enough of a reward? In fact, generations later, someone asks the Chasam Sofer in his responsa about the Rambam’s principles of faith, and he too writes that he does not understand this point. Why make the coming of Moshiach a foundation of faith? The Chasam Sofer’s argument is: Wait, if there is no Moshiach, will we not put on tefillin tomorrow? Will we not keep Shabbos? Hashem commanded us, and we do it. What difference does it make whether or not there is Moshiach? That is the Chasam Sofer’s question, and he leaves it unanswered. Now, the point the Rebbe explains in his sichos, which connects with what we said earlier about Igeres Teiman, is that Moshiach is not a reward. Moshiach is something Hakadosh Boruch Hu wants, the Supernal Will; it is the complete fulfillment of all the mitzvos. If a Jew is certain that this is what will happen, then everything he does has its full force. If he is not certain that this is what will happen, then the entire Torah is a theory that— In any case, all this is the Rebbe’s profound explanation of these words of the Rambam. Why does the Rambam make the coming of Moshiach a foundation of faith? He is the one who defined it this way: “One who does not believe in him denies the Torah and Moshe Rabbeinu.” To sum it up in one sentence: Moshiach and the complete fulfillment of the mitzvos. Moshiach and the truth of the Torah—that what Hakadosh Boruch Hu commanded will happen. Belief in the coming of Moshiach

26:17 Speaker 2 is essentially belief that the entire Torah is real in this world and that we can fulfill it. Because we are still in the first halachah of the Rambam. We saw the opening lines, where he defines what will happen when Moshiach comes. And as the Rebbe explains, he is telling us here, defining from a halachic perspective, what it is that halachah awaits in the coming of Moshiach: Moshiach will bring the complete fulfillment of the halachos in actual practice. From there, we continued to the next passage, where the Rambam emphasizes that Moshiach is not a matter of the Prophets; it is a matter of the Torah and Moshe Rabbeinu. As the Rebbe explains, what difference does it make whether it is in the Prophets or the Torah? The Prophets convey G-dliness on a level that relates to the world. The Torah conveys G-dliness that transcends the world. The Torah is the foundation; the Prophets are around it. The Prophets promise reward and punishment. The Torah tells us what reveals the will of Hakadosh Boruch Hu, which is beyond reason, beyond the world, and beyond our reality. And the Rambam says that Moshiach is found not only in the words of the Prophets, but in the Torah and Moshe Rabbeinu. That is essentially saying that Moshiach is not a side issue in Judaism, an isolated matter in Judaism, but a foundation and part of its essence. Okay, so we spoke about Moshiach in general, and about belief in the coming of Moshiach. Belief in the coming of Moshiach is essentially belief in the completeness of the Torah: that a day will come when everything written in the Torah will actually be realized in this world, as we know and see it. Having discussed all that, I’d like to pause over one more point. It is discussed a little less explicitly in the Rebbe’s sichos, but it is there, and we can see and draw out this point from the Rebbe’s words. What else does the Rambam say in that same passage we read earlier? “Anyone who does not believe in him, or who does not await his coming, denies not only the other Prophets, but the Torah and Moshe Rabbeinu.” Again: “Anyone who does not believe in him, or who does not await his coming.”

28:16 Speaker 2 Now, this sentence is one we need to pause and emphasize. It’s possible, yes, for someone not to believe in him or not to wait for him. In other words, theoretically, someone could believe in the coming of Moshiach, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s waiting for it. He knows it’s true. The Torah is true. If the Torah says it, that’s what will happen. But is he waiting for it? Is it something he cares about? Does he want it? Not necessarily, it would seem. The Rambam comes and says: you need both belief and anticipation. Anticipation without belief, of course, makes no sense. If you don’t believe, what are you waiting for? But believing without waiting would seem possible. I know it’s true, but it isn’t necessarily what I want or what interests me. The Rambam says: it isn’t enough to believe; you also have to wait. And someone who doesn’t wait is still in that same category of one who denies the Torah and Moshe Rabbeinu. That’s something we need to understand. Why? Why? Seemingly, what’s mainly demanded of us is to believe in Hashem’s existence, to believe that He is one, to believe that He has no body, to believe that the Torah is from Heaven, yes, and so on. No one—nothing—asked us for our feelings, for our hearts. But here, suddenly, the subject of Moshiach asks for our hearts: to wait for his coming, to want it, and to such an extent that if we don’t, we deny the Torah and Moshe Rabbeinu. Actually, when the Chief Rabbis visited the Rebbe—Rabbi Mordechai Eliyahu and Rabbi Shapira came several times, I think. I think they were there [unclear]. So they discussed this. Rabbi Shapira told the Rebbe that, seemingly, anticipation is a kind of test of belief. If you believe things are going to be so good and wonderful, then you want it. If you don’t want it, apparently you don’t quite

29:52 Speaker 2 believe. That’s what he said. But seemingly, still, yes, you can believe without waiting. I know it’s true. I know it really is good, but right now something else matters more to me. If my bank account is in order right now, then I’m at ease and don’t need anything more. And if my bank account isn’t in order, then what concerns me right now is getting it in order. Give me a livelihood, give me health, give me nachas from my children—that’s what I’m waiting for. Then someone comes and says there will be something greater than that, and the entire Jewish people will come to build the Beis Hamikdash. Okay, I believe it. But whether it speaks to me or not—so what? What’s so serious about that? Let’s put it this way: by nature, a person cares about his own life, his own personal situation. If he’s a decent person, he cares about more than just himself. If he’s a normal person, he also cares about his wife and children. If he’s an even better person and cares more, he also cares about those around him—yes, someone involved in communal affairs. That’s human nature. And here the Rambam suddenly comes and says: listen, you need to care about some great ideal beyond your own life, a collective matter that concerns the entire Jewish people, and if you don’t, you deny the Torah and Moshe Rabbeinu. That’s seemingly a very great, lofty demand, and he presents it as though, without it, nothing counts. So we need to understand two things here: why, and how? How can we expect such a thing of ordinary people like us? What does that mean? Let’s define the anticipation. There’s one more sentence that clarifies and defines what we began discussing earlier: “Anyone who does not believe in him, or who does not wait for his coming.” Wait—what, exactly, are we believing in? What, exactly,

31:43 Speaker 2 are we waiting for? When Moshiach comes, there will be many things. There will be the wild ox and the Leviathan; there will be a Beis Hamikdash. He will rule over all the nations, over the whole world. When you tell me to believe, what am I supposed to believe in? Say I meet a Jew on the street and have two and a half minutes. He wants to hear about belief in the coming of Moshiach. What do I tell him? I can’t tell him everything in two and a half minutes. What’s the main point? According to what the Rebbe says, quite simply, it’s what’s written here in the preceding chapter: King Moshiach will arise and restore the kingdom of David, build the Beis Hamikdash, gather the dispersed of Israel, and all the laws will return. That is Moshiach. That is what we need to believe in. Someone who doesn’t believe that has a problem with the Torah. Yes, there are other things that aren’t written here. They aren’t what’s relevant right now. When the Rambam says “anyone who does not believe in him,” he means what’s written in the lines immediately before. Because, as we explained, those lines describe the complete fulfillment of the mitzvos, which is a foundation of the Torah. That is what our belief must be in. Okay. And following the same idea: “Anyone who does not wait for his coming”—what are we waiting for? Candy growing on trees? The wild ox? The same questions again, and seemingly the same answer. We’re waiting for this: that the kingdom of David be restored, the Beis Hamikdash be built, the dispersed be gathered, and all the mitzvos be fulfilled. Let’s make it more precise. At the end of chapter 12, the Rambam returns to this subject of anticipating the days of Moshiach and says: “The sages and prophets did not long for the days of Moshiach so that they could rule over the whole world, or dominate the nations, or be exalted by the peoples, or eat, drink, and rejoice, but so that they would be free to engage in the Torah and its wisdom, with no oppressor or disturbance, and thus merit life in the World to Come, as we explained in the Laws of Teshuvah.” So here, seemingly, the Rambam really explains what this anticipation is about. Why wait for the coming of Moshiach? He says: listen, things will be good materially—they’ll rule over the whole world, eat, drink, and rejoice—but that isn’t the point. Rather, things will be good spiritually: they’ll be free to engage in the Torah and its wisdom and will merit life in the World to Come. What is life in the World to Come? When the Rambam says “the World to Come,” what does he mean? We already mentioned this earlier: the world of souls, Gan Eden, enjoying the radiance of the Shechinah. We know that for us, the Rebbe links the coming of Moshiach and eternal life—two things that, with the Rebbe, go together in the same breath. You can’t separate them. Ah, but in the Rambam you can; in fact, you do. Because the Rambam says explicitly that even after Moshiach comes, there will be death, and souls will continue on. The world of souls, Gan Eden, will continue to exist, and people pass from here to there. So, essentially, he says: you know what Moshiach means. People will be free to engage in the Torah and its wisdom, and will merit... yes, they’ll be able to study Torah peacefully in this world, without disturbances, and then merit life in the World to Come after death. That is Moshiach, and that is what will happen, and what the sages and prophets long for and anticipate. Okay, so seemingly this explains what the coming of Moshiach is, what anticipation of his coming means, and what we’re waiting for. But it would seem clear that this is not what the Rambam is talking about in the passage we read earlier, where he says that someone who does not wait for his coming denies the Torah and Moshe Rabbeinu. That isn’t what he means. What do I mean, it isn’t what he means? Why not? For several reasons. First of all, he didn’t mention it here. We said: King Moshiach will arise to restore the kingdom of David; the mitzvos will be fulfilled in practice. That is Moshiach. That is what we need to believe in, and that is what we need to wait for. It doesn’t say anything here about the World to Come. It doesn’t say anything here about being free to engage in the Torah and its wisdom. None of those things are written here. All it says here is that Moshiach will come and we’ll fulfill all the mitzvos. That’s what’s written. That is what we need to believe in, and that is what we need to wait for. Here, in chapter 12, the Rambam is discussing

33:33 Speaker 2 Throughout the world, people will eat, drink, and rejoice—but that is not the point. Rather, things will be good spiritually: people will be free to study Torah and its wisdom, and they will merit the life of the World to Come. What is the life of the World to Come? When the Rambam says “the World to Come,” what does he mean? We mentioned this earlier: the world of souls, Gan Eden, where souls enjoy the radiance of the Shechinah. We know that for us, the Rebbe links the coming of Moshiach and eternal life. For the Rebbe, those two things go together in the same breath; you cannot separate them. But in the Rambam, you can—indeed, you must—because the Rambam explicitly says that even after Moshiach comes, there will be death, and souls will continue on. The world of souls, Gan Eden, will continue to exist, and people will pass from here to there. So, in effect, he is saying: Do you know what Moshiach means? People will be free to study Torah and its wisdom; they will merit... Yes, they will be able to study Torah in this world in peace, without disturbances, and then they will merit the life of the World to Come after death. That is Moshiach, and that is what will happen. And it is for this that the sages and prophets yearned and waited. Okay, so seemingly, this explains what the coming of Moshiach is, what it means to await his coming, and what we are waiting for. But apparently, it is clear that this is not what the Rambam is talking about in the passage we read earlier, where he says that someone who does not await his coming denies the Torah and Moshe Rabbeinu. That is not what he means. What do I mean, it is not what he means? Why not? For several reasons. First of all, he did not mention it there. We said that the King Moshiach will arise to restore the kingdom of David and bring about the actual observance of the mitzvos. That is Moshiach. That is what one must believe in and await. It says nothing there about the World to Come. It says nothing there about being free to study Torah and its wisdom. It says nothing about those things. All it says there is that Moshiach will come and we will fulfill all the mitzvos. That is what it says. That is what one must believe in; that is what one must await. Here, in chapter 12, the Rambam is discussing

35:21 Speaker 2 About the anticipation that they will be free to study Torah and its wisdom and merit the life of the World to Come, and that is why they will yearn for it—that seems to be something else. It isn’t what we’re talking about here. Let’s sharpen the point. Here’s an indication: if the point of Moshiach’s coming is that they will be free to study Torah and its wisdom and merit the life of the World to Come, can you say that someone who doesn’t look forward to that denies the Torah and Moshe Rabbeinu? Can you require everyone to say, “This is what you must want”? The Rambam himself writes, “The sages and prophets did not yearn for the days of Moshiach except so that…” In other words, from his wording you understand that this isn’t what interests everyone. It’s what interests the sages and prophets. Ordinary people are interested in material things. Torah study doesn’t interest them; the life of the World to Come doesn’t interest them. And that’s legitimate. The Rambam himself discusses this in Hilchos Teshuvah. He says that when you speak to unlearned people about serving Hashem and observing the mitzvos, you start with simple things: if you observe mitzvos, there will be reward and punishment. Not even necessarily the World to Come—more basic things. I mean, gradually, as people grow and understand, you can explain things more deeply. I’m talking about abstract matters like the World to Come, but that doesn’t mean that until someone understands them, he’s a heretic, G-d forbid. People believe in Hashem and do what He commands. So it seems fairly clear that when the Rambam says here that one must await Moshiach’s coming, and that someone who doesn’t is denying the Torah and Moshe Rabbeinu, it isn’t connected to what he says in chapter 12: that people will be free to study Torah and its wisdom and merit the life of the World to Come, and that this is why the sages and prophets yearned for it. Here he’s speaking about something relevant to everyone, connected to what? Moshiach will come

37:00 Speaker 2 and we will fulfill the mitzvos. What, seemingly, is the explanation for this? Again, I haven’t seen anything in the Rebbe’s sichos that directly addresses this particular point. But indirectly, perhaps, the Rebbe says several things that seem to fit together and may explain what is being said here. As we said at the beginning, from a halachic perspective, the relationship between the Jewish people and Hakadosh Boruch Hu has several descriptions: “Our Father, our King.” If He is the father, we are the children. He is the king, and we are the servants. In Shir Hashirim, the relationship is likened to a husband and wife: He is the husband, we are the wife—“The voice of my beloved knocks,” and so on. There are different descriptions of the relationship between the Jewish people and Hakadosh Boruch Hu, and each expresses a different aspect of it. Father and child express one kind of love; husband and wife express another. A people and their king express obligation. From a halachic perspective—how does halachah view the relationship between the Jewish people and Hakadosh Boruch Hu? As a people and their king. What happened at the giving of the Torah? “Accept My kingship, and I will decree laws for you.” What are mitzvos? The decrees of a king. As we discussed earlier, a king is exalted and set apart. Kingship means kabbolas ol. We fulfill mitzvos because He is the King, because He is exalted and set apart, and because He commanded us and we do as He says. From a halachic perspective, Hakadosh Boruch Hu is our King. Now, what is kingship? Chassidus discusses this a great deal, but it goes back further than Chassidus; it’s a distinction in plain Lashon Hakodesh. What is the difference between “Your kingship is a kingship over all worlds” and “Your rule is in every generation”? What is the difference between kingship and rule? Rule describes what happens in practice: control. Someone rules over others, not necessarily with their consent; it may be by force. Kingship involves consent: “They willingly accepted His kingship upon themselves.” Rule, too, can

38:59 Speaker 2 apply to animals. A person who owns animals rules over them, but he doesn’t reign over them. Kingship simply doesn’t apply there. There’s also the relationship of a servant and a master, and the idea of rule. A master rules over his servant; he doesn’t reign over him. The servant’s relationship to his master is more a matter of kabbolas ol and obligation, without an inner willingness. But with a people and a king, kingship means that “they willingly accepted his kingship upon themselves.” When Yosef dreams his dreams, his brothers say to him, “Will you reign over us, or will you rule over us?” Ben Zoma explains this as: “Will you reign over us with our consent, or rule over us against our will?” Kingship involves consent. So when we say that Jews, the Jewish people, serve Hashem and accepted the kingship of Hakadosh Boruch Hu at Har Sinai, at the giving of the Torah, what does that mean? First of all, in the plain sense, “Accept My kingship” means that from then on we are obligated to observe the Torah and mitzvos. We do so with kabbolas ol. We have to, even if one day it isn’t convenient or doesn’t work for us. But you know, when you have to do something, you do it. Why do we have to? Because He is the King and we are His servants. Yet it isn’t only a matter of obligation, because this isn’t merely rule; it’s kingship. Kingship has to have an inner foundation: “They willingly accepted His kingship upon themselves.” The Jewish people observe the Torah because they want to. Ultimately, it is their choice. Chassidus describes this, I think, in the first maamar of Samech Vav, where it speaks about Rosh Hashanah and the coronation of the king. It describes the difference between coronation day and the rest of the year. On coronation day, when the king arrives and everyone bows before him and says, “Long live the king,” there is a tremendous self-surrender and tremendous joy, coming from the depths of the soul—the surrender of one’s very self. After

40:40 Speaker 2 that, the next day, a week, two weeks, a month or two go by, and the excitement has apparently faded. People return to their routine, and then a command comes from the king: everyone must pay a tax, everyone must pay the poll tax. The command is binding, and it isn’t always pleasant, but they carry it out. Why? Out of kabbolas ol, because he is the king. Do they do it enthusiastically? Not necessarily. But they do it because he is the king. And why is he the king? Because they crowned him. Why did they crown him? Because that is what they wanted: “They willingly accepted his kingship upon themselves.” So although two months or two years have passed, and the excitement and awakening of the coronation are no longer openly felt, what remains now is simple kabbolas ol: doing what he commanded because that is what must be done. But that simple kabbolas ol, that straightforward sense of obligation, is actually founded on the great excitement that came from the depths of the soul on coronation day. Without that, there would be nothing now. It begins with their willingly accepting his kingship. That is how it works with an earthly king, a king of flesh and blood. And that is the analogy used for our relationship with Hakadosh Boruch Hu: Rosh Hashanah and the rest of the year. On Rosh Hashanah, it is “Make Me King over you”—an awakening of the depths of the soul. That gives Jews the strength to observe mitzvos with kabbolas ol throughout the year, even when they don’t feel it. It isn’t that a person thinks back and remembers, “Ah, I made that decision on Rosh Hashanah, so that’s why I’m doing this.” It becomes part of his awareness: this is what I want, this is what I choose. Even if I don’t feel that way right now, I do it with kabbolas ol. In any case, that much is clear. He says that in a Jew’s relationship with Hakadosh Boruch Hu, and with the kingship of

42:15 Speaker 2 With Hakadosh Boruch Hu and the mitzvos He commands, there is a starting point of desire and choice. “They willingly accepted His kingship upon themselves.” Ah, we can connect this to the well-known Rambam in Hilchos Geirushin, at the end of chapter 2, which the Rebbe quotes often. When the law requires a man to give a get and he delays, the beis din compels him until he says, “I want to.” The Rambam explains: What is the point? They compel him until he says, “I want to.” What is that statement worth? The get has to be given willingly. Right. So what does his saying “I want to” accomplish? After all, they compelled him. He doesn’t really want to. So the Rambam explains something wonderful, which is brought many times in the Rebbe’s sichos: Since he is a Jew, he wants to be part of the Jewish people, wants to observe all the mitzvos, and wants to keep away from transgressions. Yes, because he doesn’t want to be in that place, as it were, and doesn’t want to be in a situation that goes against the Torah. So we see a somewhat different formulation here, but we see this point: a Jew has an inner desire for mitzvos; he wants to observe all the mitzvos. Ah, yes. Until now, we’ve been speaking about a Jew’s relationship with Hakadosh Boruch Hu in general. Yes, there is a point here. It isn’t only kabbolas ol. It isn’t like an animal toward its master, or like a servant toward his master, where there is only the obligation, only the actual deed. Inside, there is a soul, vitality, desire. And so now we’re talking about the coming of Moshiach. What is the coming of Moshiach? That Hashem’s kingship will be complete in the world, and all the mitzvos will be observed in practice in the world. The Rambam says: A Jew awaits the coming of Moshiach. He wants it. Yes, a Jew doesn’t think only about his own personal circumstances—his bank account and the health of his family and children,

44:00 Speaker 2 A Jew truly has a fundamental starting point, going back to Matan Torah, of something beyond his own circumstances. Yes, he wants to be part of the Jewish people; he wants to observe all the mitzvos. “They willingly accepted His kingship upon themselves.” Yes, and he wants Moshiach to come, for the kingship of Hakadosh Boruch Hu to be revealed, and for all the mitzvos to be observed. If that isn’t there, the Rambam uses very strong language: he denies the Torah and Moshe Rabbeinu, because something is lacking in the whole relationship. And again, of whom does the Rambam demand this? Of every single person. Right? He says that not everyone wants Gan Eden; that depends on the refinement of the soul. Sitting and learning Torah all day isn’t necessarily something everyone wants. It depends on one’s personality, on the qualities of one’s soul. But that His will be fulfilled—that the will of Hakadosh Boruch Hu be fulfilled, that His kingship be revealed in the world, and that we observe all the mitzvos in actual practice—that is a desire present in every Jew, from the very smallest to the very greatest. And again, it all comes back to the same point. If Moshiach were only a matter of reward, well, a person could say, “I’m not looking for a reward,” or, “That reward doesn’t speak to me. I’m looking for a different kind of reward.” But since Moshiach isn’t a matter of reward, Moshiach is a matter of—yes, again—what Hakadosh Boruch Hu wants, the supreme will that Torah and mitzvos be observed in practice. That touches the soul of every Jew, from the very smallest to the very greatest. And if that isn’t there—what does it mean for it not to be there? As we said, in truth everyone wants to be part of the Jewish people and wants to observe all the mitzvos, even if that desire isn’t revealed. So there is a problem with the whole relationship with Hakadosh Boruch Hu, with the whole relationship with the Torah. That is why belief

45:49 Speaker 2 in the coming of Moshiach isn’t enough—believing that it is true. One must also await his coming, as the Rambam writes. “Do not imagine”—yes, I’m reading from the Rambam—“that the king Moshiach must perform signs and wonders, bring about new things in the world, revive the dead, or do anything similar. That is not so. For Rabbi Akiva was a great sage among the Sages of the Mishnah, and he was the arms-bearer of King Ben Koziva. He said of him that he was the king Moshiach, and he and all the Sages of his generation thought he was the king Moshiach until he was killed because of sins. Once he was killed, they knew that he was not.” In other words, he was not the Moshiach they were speaking of. “And the Sages asked him for neither a sign nor a wonder. The main point is this: This Torah, its statutes and its laws, are for all time and eternity; nothing may be added to them or taken away from them.” Now, a few things about this halachah. First of all, what is the Rambam saying here in general? It’s a point he returns to again and again later on, and elsewhere too. Don’t expect signs and wonders. Moshiach will come. He is not supposed to—yes, let’s be precise about the wording—he does not have to perform signs and wonders. We’ll discuss that in a moment. Not that he won’t perform them; he doesn’t have to. Yes, that’s how the Rambam begins. He isn’t specifically expected to perform signs and wonders. He can accomplish it all without signs and wonders. That is what he says here, and then immediately in the next halachah he continues. He describes how Moshiach will emerge. How will it happen? “A king will arise from the House of David,” he will “compel all of Israel,” “fight the wars of Hashem,” “build the Mikdash,” and “gather the dispersed.” Yes, he describes it all in a way that could happen naturally, like Ben Koziva, who essentially tried to do this. He mentions Ben Koziva, who wanted to do such things,

47:39 Speaker 2 who tried to do such things by natural means, without needing anything beyond nature. Or, if we take an earlier example, the Rambam mentioned at the beginning that the king Moshiach will arise to restore the Davidic kingdom to its former state. David, it would seem, is the original model. He fought the wars of Hashem, and there were no openly supernatural events with him like there were at the Exodus from Egypt—signs and wonders, the revival of the dead, and things like that. He had tremendous Divine assistance, but nothing beyond the bounds of nature happened with him. That was true of David, true of Ben Koziva, and true of Moshiach as well. He will establish a kingdom and redeem the Jewish people without needing anything beyond nature. That is how the Rambam continues in the next halachah, and also in chapter 12. What, in fact, is the difference between chapter 11 and chapter 12? Chapter 11 speaks primarily about the king Moshiach. Chapter 12 speaks about the days of Moshiach—the era, the time, the state of the world. And chapter 12 also begins with the same point: “Do not imagine that in the days of Moshiach anything in the natural order of the world will cease.” Just as Moshiach doesn’t have to perform signs and wonders, nothing of that kind is supposed to happen in his days either. Everything will go on as usual. That is what he writes here. He also writes this in his Commentary on the Mishnah, which we mentioned, in the introduction to Perek Chelek in Sanhedrin, chapter 10. There too he describes the days of Moshiach in very natural terms, using some expressions that may even be difficult, certainly for Chabad chassidim who are used to the Rebbe’s sichos. Yes, he talks about this. There will be poor and rich people in his days. Yes, he says, “poor and rich relative to others.” That’s the wording in the translation. What does “relative to others” mean? In a relative sense—not poor people who have nothing to eat, but relatively poor. In other words, there are differences in social standing; everything carries on as usual, everything is good, there is work, not

49:34 Speaker 2 There will be eternal life. He says so explicitly. There he discusses it at length and explicitly, rules it out in his Commentary on the Mishnah, and so on. That is his approach. That is what he says in all those places, and that is what he says here too. Do not imagine that the King Moshiach must perform signs and wonders. That is not the case. Where does he get this from? Here he gives a specific proof from Rabbi Akiva. Rabbi Akiva said that Bar Koziva was the King Moshiach, and the sages asked him for neither a sign nor a wonder. They did not ask him to show them signs and wonders, and that did not stop them from declaring him Moshiach. In other words, they did not ask Moshiach for that, because that is not what he is supposed to do; it is not how he is measured or tested. That is a specific proof on this particular question: Is Moshiach supposed to perform signs and wonders? But the truth is, from a broader perspective, there is something the Rambam does not say here but does say elsewhere. You can see that this is a consistent approach of the Rambam’s: on every subject, he tends to explain things in a way that fits the natural order. In his Epistle on the Resurrection, he speaks about this explicitly. There, he does speak explicitly about the resurrection of the dead as a fundamental principle of faith. He is the one who established it as a principle of faith. So a question arose, partly because of what he says here: The King Moshiach does not need to perform signs and wonders or revive the dead. What, will there be no resurrection of the dead? Is that what the Rambam means? So the Rambam went so far as to write an entire epistle explaining what he means here and elsewhere. There he goes into this whole question of miracles and nature, and how to understand the Torah. So

51:13 Speaker 2 he says that many Torah scholars like to separate Torah from reason, Torah from nature, as though they were opposites. From their point of view, the more you explain things as happening outside the natural order, the better. But he prefers exactly the opposite: to bring Torah and reason together, and to explain matters of Torah in a way that accords with reason and the natural order. That applies to all sorts of subjects, including this one: What will the world be like in the days of Moshiach? He interprets the prophecies about Moshiach in a way that places them within nature. The same goes for the King Moshiach himself and how he will act. How will it happen? Within nature. So, “Do not imagine that the King Moshiach must perform signs and wonders.” That is the first point. When you read the Rambam—what you might call reading the Rambam in light of the Rambam—you ask: What does he say here? What does he say elsewhere? What does he say in the Epistle on the Resurrection? All right, that is what you would expect to understand. The Rambam is saying, let us not depart from nature; let us leave things as they are. That is how it seems, at least. But again, as we said, to a Chabad chossid that sounds a little funny. In the language of Chassidus, there is the expression “the higher perspective” and “the lower perspective.” The higher perspective is that G-dliness is self-evident, while the existence of worlds is something new. The lower perspective is the reverse: G-dliness is something new, while the existence of worlds is self-evident. As the Rebbe explains in his sichos, for a non-Jew, even when he knows that Hakadosh Boruch Hu exists—even an upright non-Jew who believes in a First Existence, in the One who directs the world—he still sees the ways of nature as having a reality of their own. He knows that Hakadosh Boruch Hu can intervene and perform miracles, even great miracles. But until it is clear that something is a miracle,

53:01 Speaker 2 as far as he is concerned, nature is the reality and the normal order. The existence of worlds is self-evident; G-dliness is something new. For a Jew, it is the opposite: G-dliness is self-evident, everything is Divine Providence, and everything is a miracle. Even in something that looks natural, he looks for the G-dly element that transcends nature. Now the Rambam comes along and says something that makes it seem as though he is treating nature as an important, primary reality: Let us not depart from nature. And the Rebbe, as in many other places and contexts, gives the Rambam’s words a Chassidic meaning, explaining them in light of the foundations of Chassidus and in a way that accords with them. Here too, the Rebbe offers a point that really illuminates the Rambam’s words. First, let us reread the next line, which we read earlier: “And the main point is this.” What does the Rebbe say? Let us pay attention to what the Rambam says at the end: “And the main point is this: This Torah, its statutes and its laws, are for all time and all eternity. Nothing may be added to them or taken away from them.” What is he trying to say with that sentence? How does it connect to what came before? He says Moshiach does not need to perform signs and wonders, and then says that this Torah, its statutes and its laws, are forever, without addition or change. What does he mean? What is he referring to? So the Rebbe says this: There is a Chassidic idea that connects with the Rambam’s words and with this sentence here. “Hakadosh Boruch Hu desired…” Let us go back even further, before the Rambam. Let us go to Chassidus itself, chapter 36 of Tanya: “Hakadosh Boruch Hu desired to have a dwelling place in the lower realms.” What does “in the lower realms” mean? As the Rebbe emphasizes elsewhere, first of all, it means in a lower place. Where? In this physical world. Second, how is that accomplished? Through those who dwell below, through our service. And in what way?

54:58 Speaker 2 Through service carried out according to, and within, the natural order. That is how Hakadosh Boruch Hu wants things to happen. Hakadosh Boruch Hu gave us Torah and mitzvos at Mount Sinai—and where did He give them? Here in this world. How does He want us to fulfill them? Within the natural framework. Why? Because their purpose is not to break the world. Their purpose is to affect the world, to refine it by being fulfilled within the framework of nature. A Jew lives within that framework, and within it he studies Torah and fulfills mitzvos. That is how he refines the reality of the world. Now, it is true that Torah and Judaism include many things beyond nature: the Exodus from Egypt, the Giving of the Torah, the thunder and lightning—things that shake the natural order or even seem to nullify its reality, and so on. But all of that is preparation; it gives us the strength. The main work, though, is here, within the reality of nature. There is the well-known story about the Alter Rebbe during his imprisonment, when they took him from his cell to the interrogation office. He was imprisoned in the Peter and Paul Fortress, and they took him for interrogation at the Secret Council—the Tayne Sovet, if I am saying that correctly. It seems that it was on the other side of the river in Petersburg, because both buildings stood on the riverbank, so they had to take him across by boat. The Alter Rebbe was arrested at the end of Tishrei, after Sukkos. So this was apparently either on one of the first nights of Cheshvan or one of the first nights of Kislev. They take the Alter Rebbe out at night in a boat on the river, and he sees an opportunity. He can see the moon in its fullness, something he probably could not necessarily see from his prison cell. So he wants to take advantage of that

56:51 Speaker 2 the opportunity to recite Kiddush Levanah. All right, but when you say a blessing, you need to be standing and to do it properly, not while traveling. So the Alter Rebbe asks the guard taking him to stop the boat briefly so he can say the blessing. But the guard refuses. The guard refuses, and the boat stops—it stands still. The Alter Rebbe then stands up and says the “Hallelujah” passage before the blessing. Right? And the boat starts moving again. Then the Alter Rebbe asks the guard once more to stop the boat. By now, the guard realizes that he is dealing with something beyond his understanding, and that it is not entirely up to him. So the guard stops the boat, and the Alter Rebbe stands up again and says the blessing and the entire text through to the end. This is a story the Frierdiker Rebbe tells, and the Rebbe discusses it in volume 5 of Likkutei Sichos. The point the Rebbe makes is that there is something a little puzzling about the story. If the boat had already stopped—the Alter Rebbe could stop it without the guard—why did he ask the guard in the first place? And once the guard had refused and he had stopped the boat, why did he say only the first passage? He could have said the whole thing. Why did he let the boat move again and then ask the guard once more? The point is what we spoke about earlier: Hakadosh Boruch Hu desired to have a dwelling place in the lower realms. A Jew’s service through Torah and mitzvos needs to take place within the bounds of nature. Hakadosh Boruch Hu took a soul and brought it down into this physical world. He gave the Torah down here, in this physical world, so that a soul as it exists within a body, subject to the bounds of nature, would fulfill its mitzvos that way. That is how the purpose of making a dwelling place in the lower realms is fulfilled. And so, when the Alter Rebbe wants to fulfill

58:41 Speaker 2 a mitzvah, he wants to fulfill it not through a miracle but specifically through natural means. There is no—fulfilling a mitzvah through a miracle is not the point. Mitzvos need to be fulfilled specifically within the bounds of nature. Perhaps a miracle, something out of the ordinary, can come first and give us the strength to do so, but generally speaking, mitzvos are fulfilled specifically through natural means. That is the point of the story about the Alter Rebbe, and it applies more broadly too. It takes us back to the Chassidic foundation: Hakadosh Boruch Hu desired to have a dwelling place in the lower realms. But here, in the Rambam—the concept of a dwelling place in the lower realms is not stated explicitly in the Rambam. He says something else, perhaps something more straightforward, more readily understood on the level of the revealed teachings of Torah. What does he say? “This Torah, its statutes and its laws, are forever and for all eternity.” The Rebbe explains it this way. Before citing that statement, he says, in effect: If Hakadosh Boruch Hu gave us the Torah in this physical world, He intended us to fulfill its mitzvos in this physical world through natural means. It is wrong to say that some mitzvos cannot be fulfilled through natural means, that they require a miracle. Someone who says that is separating the Torah from the world. This relates to what the Rambam wrote in his Epistle on the Resurrection of the Dead: there are people who separate the Torah from reason, the Torah from nature, when the two need to be connected. What does it mean to connect them? As the Rebbe says, it does not mean making the Torah smaller. On the contrary, it means elevating the world. He says that the world is a vessel for Torah. Do not make the Torah into something heavenly and the world into something disconnected from it. A Jew who wants to fulfill mitzvos is living in this world. He gets up

1:00:20 Speaker 2 in the morning, looks at the world around him, and says, “Listen, if it is impossible to fulfill mitzvos in this world—to keep Shabbos, to separate tithes—you can’t live that way in this world. If you want Hakadosh Boruch Hu to break the rules of the world and give us miracles that go beyond the bounds of nature, anything is possible. But within nature, it doesn’t work.” The Rebbe says: That is not so. A Jew needs to know that he has help from Heaven to do it all within the natural order of the world. Do not separate the two. Do not say, “Listen, in this world it is impossible.” It is possible within this world. That does not diminish the Torah; on the contrary, it magnifies the Torah and makes the world a vessel for it. Let’s put it that way. That is G-dliness, plain and simple. Don’t see the world as an opposing reality, as something opposed to the Torah and unable to serve as its vessel. Know that the world is a vessel for Torah. That is what we are talking about, and it connects to the Rambam’s statement: “This Torah, its statutes and its laws, are forever and for all eternity.” The plain meaning of that statement, seemingly, is that the Torah is eternal. Now, in our language, when we say “forever”—and this is interesting—in the language of Scripture, we have “Hashem will reign forever and ever,” at the end of the Song at the Sea, and “Blessed is Hashem, the G-d of Israel, from everlasting to everlasting.” In the language of Scripture, the word olam refers to time. “From everlasting to everlasting” means from time immemorial and forever. Whenever Scripture uses the word olam, in any context, it refers to eternal duration or to the distant past, depending on the context—whether it is speaking about the past or the future. “I will bless Your name forever and ever,” and so on. In the language of our Sages, the word takes on a somewhat different meaning: olam as a place, a state of being—reality as a whole. The whole of

1:02:15 Speaker 2 reality is called an olam, a world. In Pirkei Avos: “The world endures on three things,” or “The world stands on three things”; “Torah scholars increase peace in the world”; “this world,” “the World to Come.” These are all expressions used by our Sages that take the word olam in that sense. It is the language of our Sages. The language of Scripture is one thing and the language of the Sages another; the language of the Mishnah is distinct. It is a somewhat different language, and the same word can have different meanings in Scripture and in the Mishnah. So again, in the language of Scripture, le’olam means “forever.” In the language of the Mishnah, olam means the whole of reality: this world, the World to Come, the reality in which we live. And, interestingly, Chassidus often interprets verses this way. Even before Chassidus, our Sages interpreted verses from Scripture using the meaning the word has in their own language. For example, “For with Kah, Hashem is the Rock of worlds.” What does “worlds,” in the plural, mean? This world and the World to Come. “Blessed is Hashem, the G-d of Israel, from everlasting to everlasting”—this world and the World to Come. In all sorts of places where Scripture uses olam, our Sages interpret it in their sense: not as a span of time, but as the reality in which we live. Chassidus does the same. “I will bless Your name forever and ever.” The plain meaning is that I will always bless it, for all eternity. But in several places in Torah Or, the Alter Rebbe interprets “I will bless Your name” as meaning that I will draw it down—brachah, blessing, in the sense of drawing down. “I will bless Your name le’olam”: I will draw the revelation of Your name down into the reality of the world. “Give thanks to Hashem, for He is good, for His kindness is everlasting.” The plain meaning is that His kindness is eternal: He is always kind to us. But the Alter Rebbe interprets “for His kindness is le’olam” to mean that the kindness of Hakadosh Boruch Hu, which is far, far above, is drawn down to us, into the reality of the world. “His kindness is le’olam”—into the reality of the world. That is how it is

1:04:20 Speaker 2 This comes up a lot in Chassidus, just as it does in the teachings of our Sages. Usually these interpretations are applied to verses. But here, in that sicha in Likkutei Sichos, volume 18, Parshas Balak, the Rebbe does the same thing with the Rambam: “This Torah, its statutes and its laws, are forever.” Yes. The straightforward way we read that sentence is that the Rambam is speaking about the Torah’s permanence: it always remains the same, without change. The Rebbe interprets “This Torah, its statutes and its laws, are forever” as referring to the reality of the world. Hakadosh Boruch Hu did not give the Torah in some higher world—even though the Torah is G-dliness above this physical world. He placed it down here, at Mount Sinai, for the world. His intention was that we, down here, should observe it within the bounds of the world, within the bounds of nature. Yes. So that is how the Rebbe interprets the Rambam’s words, “its statutes and its laws, are forever,” and it connects to the whole idea of this halachah: “Do not imagine that Moshiach the king must perform signs and wonders.” Why? Because what is Moshiach? As we said, this is the principle the Rebbe follows throughout the chapter: Moshiach means the complete fulfillment of the mitzvos, that all the Torah’s mitzvos will be observed. And Jews believe in the coming of Moshiach. What does that mean? A Jew believes that a day will come when all the Torah’s mitzvos will be fulfilled completely. Because that is what the Torah commanded; that is what is meant to happen. Now a Jew comes along and says, “Listen, I believe it will happen. I believe that in the end it will all happen, that all the Torah’s mitzvos will be fulfilled. But I think Moshiach has to perform signs and wonders. Without wonders, it won’t happen, because I look at the world and can’t see how it could happen. The world is the very opposite of Torah and mitzvos. You’d have to give it a few blows, turn water into blood or something

1:05:58 Speaker 2 like that, to make it happen—to change something here so that it can happen.” Yes, that is the reasoning: Moshiach the king must perform signs and wonders. The Rambam says that such reasoning runs counter to the whole idea. You are essentially saying that the world cannot be a vessel for the Torah, G-d forbid. “This Torah, its statutes and its laws, are forever.” Moshiach can accomplish everything without any miracle, without any trick, within the natural order of the world. It is possible to work, to act, and to bring the entire world to a state in which Torah and mitzvos are fulfilled completely. And someone who thinks otherwise, who separates the two—there is a problem here with the whole principle that “This Torah, its statutes and its laws, are forever and for all eternity.” That is how the Rebbe explains this halachah. Just to sharpen the point: when the Rambam writes, “The fundamental point is that it is so,” at the end of halachah 3, the halachah discussing how Moshiach’s work takes place within the natural order, it would seem, on a straightforward reading, that this refers not only to halachah 3. From what the Rebbe says, it seems that it can refer to everything stated before, beginning with halachah 1. In other words, the Rambam begins with Moshiach and the complete fulfillment of Torah and mitzvos, and with our belief that Moshiach will come and bring about that complete fulfillment. Everything stated earlier comes into it—and he will do this within the natural order. The Rambam brings several proofs: the Torah testified about him, and as for the words of the Prophets, the matter needs no proof. Then, after all the proofs and explanations, the Rambam concludes, “The fundamental point is that it is so.” This is the foundation of it all. I have brought you proof from one verse and another, but it is not just a matter of proofs from verses. There is a general principle behind everything. What is it? That “This Torah, its statutes and its laws, are forever and for all eternity”—the Torah is eternal, without changes. Eternal, first of all, in the sense that it is not replaced, G-d forbid, as

1:07:48 Speaker 2 the false messiahs—the Christian and so on, whom the Rambam discusses later—would have it. Yes, eternal in the sense that it does not change, and also in the sense that we believe it will prevail. That is what will happen in the end. Interestingly, the Maharal wrote a book about the Geulah, explaining the teachings of our Sages in the Midrashim on Moshiach. He called it Netzach Yisrael, and in the introduction he explains why. He gives two meanings: netzach as eternity—the Jewish people are an eternal people—and netzach as victory—the Jewish people will prevail. Here, though, when we speak about the eternity of the Torah, we are approaching it from the Torah’s perspective, not from the perspective of the Jewish people, as the Maharal does. The Rambam approaches it from the perspective of the Torah. Of course, the two depend on each other; they go together. The Torah and the Jewish people are one. Yes, the two things referred to by “Bereishis”: the Jewish people and the Torah. The Torah is eternal and the Jewish people are eternal. You cannot have one without the other. But in any case, the Rambam here is speaking from the perspective of the Torah’s eternity. So the same two meanings apply here too: the Torah is eternal, and the Torah will prevail. That is the belief in the coming of Moshiach, and that is the fundamental point. It is not just what is written in this verse or that verse. There is an overarching idea behind it all. As we discussed in an earlier class, not every verse becomes a principle of faith. The question is what its content is, what it expresses, what idea it conveys. The fact that Moshiach is mentioned here and there, in several places, does not make it a fundamental principle. The idea that “This Torah, its statutes and its laws, are forever,” that it is eternal and unchanging—that is what makes it a principle of faith. That is the fundamental point behind everything. Following on from what we discussed earlier, we also read

1:09:36 Speaker 2 and studied the halachah in which the Rambam emphasizes: “Do not imagine that Moshiach the king must perform signs and wonders.” He does not have to. “It is not so.” He brings the example of Ben Koziva. And as we saw earlier, we saw the underlying principle and the explanation the Rebbe gives in Likkutei Sichos, volume 18, Parshas Balak. Why is there such an emphasis on this? Because mitzvos are fulfilled within the natural order. Hakadosh Boruch Hu deliberately gave the Torah here in this physical world so that it would be fulfilled here, as the world is. And if Moshiach means the complete fulfillment of the mitzvos, then we believe that all of it can happen here, within this physical world, without breaking the world, without needing signs and wonders. “This Torah, its statutes and its laws, are forever.” That is how the Rebbe explains the principle behind the Rambam’s words. But there are another two points to clarify here. Beyond that, where do we see a place for miracles? What place do miracles have in the coming of Moshiach? Let’s make two points. First, the Rambam did not rule out the possibility of miracles; on the contrary. Second, even the natural course of events the Rambam speaks of is really a miracle, as we will see shortly. Let’s discuss those two points. First, let’s read it again: “Do not imagine that Moshiach the king must perform signs and wonders, bring new things into the world, or resurrect the dead. It is not so.” Notice what he said: he does not have to. He did not say it will not happen. He said he does not have to. And in light of the Rebbe’s explanation, that is very understandable. The Rebbe’s two points. Let’s

1:11:30 Speaker 2 Let’s go back for a moment. Where do we see an example of this? In Hilchos Yesodei HaTorah, the Rambam discusses prophecy. But what are the signs of a prophet? How do we know he is a prophet? The Rambam speaks about asking him for a sign or a wonder: he will foretell things that are going to happen in the world. Then the Rambam speaks about Moshe Rabbeinu and says: The Jewish people did not believe in Moshe Rabbeinu because of the signs. They believed in him because, at Mount Sinai, we all heard Hakadosh Boruch Hu speaking to him. So what about all the signs and wonders he performed? He took us out of Egypt, split the sea, opened the earth to swallow Korach, and did all those other things—brought water from a rock, and manna, bread from heaven. The Rambam says they were done as needed, not to prove his prophecy. The fact that he was a prophet was not because of the wonders. The wonders did not make him a prophet. That is a separate matter. When there was a need, he performed wonders. But that is not what we are talking about right now. When we speak of Moshe Rabbeinu as a prophet, and of our belief in him as a prophet, it is not because of the wonders. It is because we all heard Hakadosh Boruch Hu speaking to him at Mount Sinai. But the Rambam is drawing a distinction here: performing signs and wonders is not the prophet’s defining role. He can do so, but that is not his role. And seemingly, the same applies when the Rambam speaks about Moshiach. He says, “Do not imagine that the King Moshiach must perform signs and wonders,” or revive the dead and the like. He means that this is not his defining role; those things could still happen, right? After all, won’t there be the resurrection of the dead? Of course there will. As we discussed earlier, people challenged the Rambam on this because they thought he was denying the resurrection of the

1:13:10 Speaker 2 dead. Since he says that “the wolf will dwell with the lamb” is a metaphor and a riddle, as he says later, perhaps he also interprets “Awake and sing, you who dwell in the dust” as a metaphor and a riddle. So they suspected him, G-d forbid, of not believing in the resurrection of the dead. That is why he had to write his Epistle on the Resurrection of the Dead, to set the record straight. In the epistle he addresses the halachah and the objections. He writes that this halachah was why people understood him that way, and says: That is not what I meant. I said that Moshiach does not have to revive the dead. The resurrection of the dead is a matter in its own right, not necessarily connected to Moshiach. That does not rule out Hakadosh Boruch Hu bringing about the resurrection of the dead; it is simply not directly connected to the coming of Moshiach. It is a matter in its own right. I did not say it would not happen. G-d forbid that I should mean such a thing. After all, the Rambam himself established the resurrection of the dead as one of the fundamental principles of faith. That is how he discusses the resurrection of the dead there in the epistle. He writes something else there that the Rebbe quotes in his sichos on this subject. He says: When we said that “the wolf will dwell with the lamb” is a metaphor and a riddle, that statement was not definitive. It could happen literally—perhaps in the Land of Israel, perhaps beyond the Land of Israel. He offers several possibilities. He says: I did not say it would not happen. What I said, seemingly, was that Moshiach does not have to perform signs and wonders. That is not how he is tested or measured. And in light of what the Rebbe says, the Rambam’s words are very understandable. He is saying that this is not what defines Moshiach. Along similar lines, there is a story about the chossid Rashbatz, Reb Shmuel Betzalel Sheftel, who was a chossid of the Tzemach Tzedek,

1:14:42 Speaker 2 the Rebbe Maharash, and the Rebbe Rashab, and whom the Rebbe Rashab later appointed to educate the Frierdiker Rebbe. Someone came and asked him, “Does the Rebbe have ruach hakodesh?” Whether he meant the Tzemach Tzedek or a Rebbe of a later generation—he asked, “Does the Rebbe have ruach hakodesh?” Rashbatz said, “I don’t know.” What difference does it make? If he needs it, he has it. If he doesn’t need it, perhaps he doesn’t. In other words, that is not his defining role. That is not what makes him great. His role is to connect us to G-dliness, to reveal the inner dimension of Torah to us, to connect us with Hakadosh Boruch Hu, and to bring the entire Jewish people together. That is his role. If ruach hakodesh is needed, fine. Ruach hakodesh is something very beautiful and important. But Judaism does not stand on that, nor does our connection with Hakadosh Boruch Hu. And that is not what makes the Rebbe the Rebbe. If it is needed, it is there. That is what Rashbatz says about the Rebbe, and that is what the Rambam says about Moshiach: it is not his defining role. His role is to bring Torah and mitzvos to their fullest expression, and that fullest expression comes specifically within the natural order. If signs and wonders are needed, they can happen too. In fact, to sharpen the point, as we have seen even with regard to observing mitzvos, sometimes Hakadosh Boruch Hu does perform signs and wonders. There was the miracle of Chanukah: the oil from a single flask burned for eight days. It is explained that this was a special miracle showing Hashem’s affection for the Jewish people. Similarly, in the story of the Alter Rebbe, the boat first came to a stop miraculously, and afterward he stopped it by natural means. There is Divine assistance, and sometimes, to show His affection for the Jewish

1:16:22 Speaker 2 people, Hakadosh Boruch Hu does give signs and wonders. So here too, when we speak about Moshiach, the Rambam is saying that this is not required. The mitzvos do not require it. But if Hakadosh Boruch Hu gives us a bonus, why not? And as the Rebbe points out, our Sages do speak about signs and wonders, about extraordinary changes: “In the future, the Land of Israel will produce ready-made loaves and silk garments.” Ready-made bread and silk garments will come out of the ground. Our Sages do speak about that. How does the Rambam understand all these things? The Rebbe explains this in an entire sicha in volume 27, in the discussion of Hilchos Ishus: according to the Rambam, all these things are beyond what is required—they are the bonus. Moshiach does not have to do them; that is not how he is measured. The observance of Torah and mitzvos on the basic level does not need these things. As a bonus, they will happen. There is a sicha from Shabbos Shemini 5742. The Rebbe raises this apparent contradiction and cites the Epistle to Yemen. There too the Rambam speaks about the revelation of Moshiach, and there he does speak about signs and wonders that Moshiach will display, causing all the nations to fear him and submit to him. The point the Rebbe explains there—in that sicha from Shabbos Shemini 5742—is that Shabbos Shemini came after Pesach, after the last day of Pesach, so it was something of a continuation of Seudas Moshiach. The Rebbe had begun speaking about this subject at Seudas Moshiach and continued it on Shabbos Shemini. The point the Rebbe makes is along the lines of “if they merit” and “if they do not merit.” Here, the Rambam is speaking about the basic level, what is required. In the Epistle to Yemen, the context makes it clear that the Rambam is describing Moshiach in a more wondrous way. There he says, “A man will arise who was unknown before his appearance”; “Suddenly the Master whom”

1:18:08 Speaker 2 You’re asking: Yes, a sudden revelation—not quite like what he describes here. “A king will arise,” he will strike and fight. That sounds less sudden, more natural. You don’t see the suddenness or the miraculous element here. So the Rebbe says these are descriptions of somewhat different situations, given in different contexts. In Iggeres Teiman, it is more a case of “if they merit it.” The Rambam did not rule out these possibilities; he himself speaks about them. What he is saying here is that, if we’re talking about the basic definition of Moshiach—what is essential to it—he does not need to perform signs and wonders. Could he? Certainly. Will he? If they merit it, then yes. And the Rebbe says: What does “if they merit it” mean? If they don’t merit it at the beginning, they certainly will afterward. Moshiach will come, people will fulfill mitzvos, and eventually they will surely merit it. Things will certainly go from strength to strength. The Rambam is describing a particular situation, but it isn’t static. It’s not that, according to the Rambam, we remain at the stage he describes. It’s a situation, a certain level. It could be a beginning from which we keep advancing further and further. Okay. That’s one point. As we said earlier, I’m talking about two points. So this is the first: the Rambam did not rule out the reality or the possibility of signs and wonders in the future, or that they will actually happen, as our Sages spoke about and as he himself speaks about. That’s one point. Before we talk about miracles, about Eretz Yisroel producing ready-made rolls, about “if they merit it,” about “the wolf will dwell with the lamb” in the literal sense, and about the resurrection of the dead—before we talk about all those things, let’s say none of that is written. Let’s say we have only chapter 11: that there won’t be signs

1:19:40 Speaker 2 and wonders, and that isn’t what it’s about. So how will Moshiach come? A king will arise, strike, and fight. Let’s discuss it on that level, without bringing the dead back to life or producing clothes from trees. It’s clear that even according to the Rambam, everything he describes here only seems, at first glance, to be entirely natural. It isn’t simply nature at all; it’s a matter of miracles. What do I mean by miracles? There’s what the Rambam himself writes in—I think it’s in Iggeres Techiyas Hameisim. Again, he discusses the whole subject of miracles and nature there. Let’s look at a few words and see how he defines miracles and nature, what happens with us, and where we stand in relation to miracles and nature. Then we’ll decide about Moshiach. The Rambam says this: What is a miracle? What is nature? If water turns to blood, that is certainly a miracle. If a staff turns into a snake, that is certainly a miracle. Things like that don’t happen in nature. If the staff turned into a snake, Hakadosh Boruch Hu did it; if the water turned to blood, Hakadosh Boruch Hu did it. But the Rambam says it isn’t only that. Take the plague of locusts, for example. Locusts came upon Egypt. Locusts are a natural phenomenon; swarms come to Egypt from time to time. So why do you say that this was a miracle? Because the Torah says, “Before it there had never been such a swarm of locusts, nor will there ever be one like it afterward,” and this enormous swarm arrived precisely when Moshe Rabbeinu said it would. So there are two things here. First, the quantity was extraordinary—it wasn’t the usual pattern. And second, it came exactly when Moshe

1:21:17 Speaker 2 Rabbeinu summoned it. You see? On the face of it, this is something natural. Locusts exist in nature, and swarms do arrive. But from the way it happened, you understand that it wasn’t a natural event but a miracle. The Rambam calls these miracles involving things impossible in nature, and miracles involving things possible in nature. The latter are miracles too. What makes them miracles? Hakadosh Boruch Hu intervened in the ordinary course of nature and changed it in accordance with His purpose, with the Divine will. In the language of Chassidus, there are miracles that overturn the laws of nature, and there are miracles clothed in nature. And even among miracles clothed in nature, there are different kinds. In some, the miracle is less apparent; in others, it is more apparent. With the plague of locusts, it’s obvious that something happened, that there was intervention. But with, say, the miracle of Purim, events unfolded more step by step, through the workings of nature, so the miracle is less obvious. Either way, it’s a miracle—Divine intervention. Having introduced the concept, the Rambam goes on to ask: What about the Jewish people? The Rambam quotes the verse in the curses in Parshas Ki Savo: “They will be upon you as a sign and a wonder, and upon your descendants forever.” What does “upon you as a sign and a wonder” mean? No particular miracle is mentioned there. When Moshe Rabbeinu admonishes the Jewish people and tells them what will happen if they sin—“Hashem will bring against you a nation from afar,” and they will take you into exile, where you will suffer troubles and illnesses, and so on—nothing extraordinary, beyond the bounds of nature, is described. It all seems to be within the framework of nature. So what does it mean that “they will be upon you as a sign

1:23:02 Speaker 2 and a wonder, and upon your descendants forever”? The Rambam says: True, nothing there breaks the laws of nature. But the unequivocal statement itself—listen, Jews, do you want to succeed? Fulfill the mitzvos. Don’t fulfill the mitzvos? You won’t succeed—is not natural. That’s not how the laws of nature work. In nature, it would seem, if you work, you’ll have what you need; if you’re strong, you’ll win. If you don’t work, you won’t have what you need; if you’re weak, you’ll be defeated. Moshe Rabbeinu comes and tells the Jewish people: Jews, that isn’t how it works. Fulfill the mitzvos and you’ll succeed; don’t fulfill them and you won’t. How will success come? It may come clothed in nature. How will failure come? It too may come clothed in nature. But if it is absolutely clear that the outcome depends on our actions and on the Torah—you did what was right and you received good; you didn’t, and you lost—then clearly something beyond nature is at work, even if its outward form is natural. That, says the Rambam, is what the Torah means by “they will be upon you as a sign and a wonder.” It is a sign and a wonder. It is proof of something outside the ordinary course of nature. In effect, he’s saying that the Jewish people are continually guided in a miraculous way. What does “miraculous” mean? It doesn’t mean manna falls from heaven for us every day. But it does mean, unequivocally, that the way you are guided does not depend on nature. That’s true of the Jewish people as a whole, and it’s also true of each individual Jew. He needs to know that his success in life is not determined by the laws of nature; it depends on something else. Non-Jews operate according to nature; they truly are subject to its laws. Jews are above nature. That’s what the Rambam

1:24:49 Speaker 2 writes in Iggeres Teiman. As an aside, we’re discussing the Rambam and clarifying his view, but I think it’s worth mentioning the Ramban. In his commentary on the Torah, he returns to this point in many places. I’ll give one example: “The land to which you are coming is not like the land of Egypt, where you sowed your seed and watered it with your foot like a vegetable garden. Rather, the land to which you are coming is a land of mountains and valleys; it drinks water from the rain of heaven, a land that Hashem your G-d cares for.” The Ramban explains what this is saying. In Egypt, you grew your crops and watered them with your foot. You had a river and a field; you took water from the river, watered the field, wheat grew, and you could eat. You managed on your own. But when you come to Eretz Yisroel, you won’t manage on your own. It’s a land that drinks water from the rain of heaven. And who decides when rain will fall? “Hashem your G-d cares for it.” Hakadosh Boruch Hu decides. What does the next verse say? “If you heed My commandments,” then “I will give the rain of your land”; and if not, “He will close up the heavens.” In Egypt, things worked through the river, within the natural framework. In Eretz Yisroel, the guidance is miraculous: it depends on mitzvos. Hakadosh Boruch Hu guides you, not the laws of nature or the natural order. That’s what he says here, and he returns to this point many times throughout his commentary. At the end of Parshas Bo, he also discusses it and makes a forceful statement: Someone who thinks that what happens to us is nature has no share in the Torah of Moshe Rabbeinu, because the truth is that nothing that happens to us is natural; it is all miracle. Yes,

1:26:43 Speaker 2 A Jew is a miracle. That is what the Ramban writes, and it goes together with what the Rambam says in his Iggeres Teiman, and certainly with what Chassidus emphasizes and sharpens in many, many places. Yes, “Hashem is your G-d”: Hashem, Who is above nature, is your G-d. Elokim has the same numerical value as hateva, “nature”; He is your strength and your life. Yes, “Hashem is our G-d, Hashem is One.” A Jew is above nature. A Jew belongs to the name Hashem, not the name Elokim—that is how Chassidus puts it. This is always true of every individual Jew and of the Jewish people as a whole. It has been true throughout the generations, from Parshas Bechukosai and Parshas Ki Savo, and throughout history. And certainly when we speak about Moshiach. If, for the moment, we look at Moshiach from the perspective of a reward for the Jews—we said that is not entirely precise, but it is one perspective, because there is also an aspect of success for the Jews here—then that success does not come through the natural order. The Torah promised that ultimately the Jewish people will do teshuvah and will immediately be redeemed. When you do teshuvah, you will be redeemed. That does not come about through natural causes or natural events. It really is a miracle. Even if the Rambam describes it as something that happens within nature, by natural means, without introducing anything new, without performing signs and wonders or resurrecting the dead—what does that mean? He means without breaking the laws of nature, without signs and wonders that break those laws. Moshiach will manage; he will fight wars and win without needing anything supernatural. But clearly, if the entire history of the Jewish people is one great miracle, then surely Moshiach is the greatest miracle of all: that Hakadosh Boruch Hu suddenly brings forth someone with the strength and courage to fight against everyone, and he

1:28:26 Speaker 2 succeeds in fighting against everyone, and succeeds in gathering the entire Jewish people around him. Surely that is not something that emerges from the natural course of events. It comes through Divine intervention beyond the natural order, which truly makes it a miracle. So that was the angle we discussed: the Jewish people are above nature, and Moshiach represents a kind of success for the Jewish people. The same applies when we speak about observing mitzvos. As we said earlier, mitzvos belong in the realm of nature; they have to be observed specifically through natural means, within the workings of nature. But the truth is that every single mitzvah, and certainly all the mitzvos together, has an element that is above nature. What does that mean? There is a sicha in volume [unclear], I think, a sicha for 28 Cheshvan. The Rebbe speaks about how each individual mitzvah is measured and limited. It has a fixed measure: it begins here and ends there, and you can check it off. We have fulfilled our obligation; we have performed the mitzvah. It has a defined measure within nature. But the Rebbe says that when you look at the whole picture, at everything Hakadosh Boruch Hu asks of a Jew from bar mitzvah age throughout his life—demands that encompass him twenty-four hours a day, including difficult demands—meeting them without interruption is something above nature. The Alter Rebbe writes in Tanya: How can Moshe Rabbeinu tell us, “The matter is very close to you”? How is it very close? How can we fulfill everything? Through the power of mesirus nefesh. With that, a person can stand against his yetzer and overcome it. The power of mesirus nefesh is, in essence, the miracle within a person, the part of him that is above

1:30:15 Speaker 2 nature, as Chassidus explains at length. And we have to bring some of that element into every individual mitzvah as well. There is a reasonable requirement here, something one can fulfill in an ordinary way, but in truth it needs some element of mesirus nefesh, beyond a person’s nature, and Divine assistance beyond nature within the world. When a Jew sets out to perform mitzvos—or, more generally, when a Jew sets out to build his life according to Torah and mitzvos—he must have a clear understanding. As we said earlier, a Jew goes out into the world, looks around and says, “Listen, this world is not always friendly to someone who wants to live according to Torah and mitzvos.” Keeping Shabbos, giving tithes, finances and health—all aspects of life have to be conducted according to Torah. The world is not always friendly or welcoming. So one might think, as we discussed earlier, “Okay, maybe we should replace the world.” Or one might think—the other side of the same coin—“Listen, if this is the world, I don’t know how I can do it.” Every Jew needs a clear foundation when he gets up in the morning, opens his eyes, looks out the window and sees the world around him, the world in which he lives and in which he must observe Torah and mitzvos. He must know clearly: I am not here alone. I have Divine assistance that is above nature, and it will be fully expressed within nature. There will not be a staff turning into a snake today. That is not what we are planning for today. But we do explicitly plan, build and trust that there will be Divine assistance—Divine intervention above nature—to help each and every Jew fulfill what is required of him within the workings of nature. That is a foundation that applies always,

1:32:03 Speaker 2 not only when we speak about Moshiach. It applies whenever a Jew approaches any mitzvah. A mitzvah has power. A mitzvah is a command, a Divine command, and it carries Divine power—the power to change reality, so that the world helps the Jew rather than opposing him. The mitzvah is stronger than the nature of the world. That is how a Jew must approach everything. And if we are speaking about Moshiach, who brings the mitzvos to their completion, then surely it is the Divine power of the mitzvos, a power above nature, that gives Moshiach the strength to accomplish everything he must accomplish: to fight the wars of Hashem and win, and to bring the entire world to serve Hashem together. And since we have reached this point, let us conclude this subject with a very important point. How our Rebbeim viewed—and continue to view—and rejected the whole idea of Zionism, beginning with the Rebbe Maharash and the Rebbe Rashab, the Frierdiker Rebbe and the Rebbe, Melech HaMoshiach. What is the main point that we see, generation after generation, in the Rebbeim’s opposition to it? I would say it rests on precisely this point. There is a letter from the Rebbe Rashab—I think it was printed in the introduction to Kuntres U’Maayan, and certainly among his letters—about this whole matter. The point also appears in the Rebbe’s letters. He says that the Rebbeim’s problem with Zionism is the idea that “the House of Israel should be like all the nations.” What does that mean? Following the natural order. We are Jews. What makes us a people? The fact that Hakadosh Boruch Hu chose us. We are not like all the nations; we are not on the same plane. And why are we in exile? “Because of our sins we were exiled from our land.” So how will we be redeemed? The Torah promised that ultimately the Jewish people will do teshuvah and immediately be redeemed. That is how the Geulah will come: when we are worthy, when we have earned it. So if

1:34:02 Speaker 2 We want the Geulah to come. What do we need to do? Do teshuvah. Or, as the Rambam writes, if there is a Moshiach who wants to bring Geulah to the world, what does he need to do? First of all, “compel all of Israel to follow it and strengthen its breaches,” right? Bring the Jewish people back to their true state, and then, as a matter of course, Hakadosh Boruch Hu will help and actually bring the true and complete Geulah. He will grant victory and success. What was the idea of Zionism? That the Jewish people are essentially like all other nations. There are French people, there are English people, and there are Jews too—Hebrews, whatever we call them. And our being in exile is something that happened in the natural course of events. So let’s gather ourselves, come to the Land of Israel, and build something there... The Rebbe Rashab speaks very sharply about this. He says there was a separation in their thinking between Torah and mitzvos and the concept of being a Jew. It wasn’t just that, in practice, they didn’t observe Torah and mitzvos. You could pursue this with Torah and mitzvos, or you could pursue it without Torah and mitzvos. The Rebbe Rashab says no, that isn’t incidental. It’s the essence of the idea: being a Jew doesn’t necessarily mean Torah and mitzvos. Just as there are French people and English people, there are Jews too. Some French people have their religion, some people in other nations have another religion, and Jews have their own religion, right? But that isn’t what makes Jews Jewish. Instead, a Jew is defined by the national idea, as the Rebbe Rashab calls it, by his forefathers. We have a tradition, a heritage, a culture, a language. In that respect, we’re like any other people. Religion is also part of that heritage and culture, and among Jews that part is very, very strong.

1:35:50 Speaker 2 That’s how it works in the Zionist view, okay? But Judaism doesn’t rest on that; that isn’t what makes a Jew Jewish. And it isn’t why we’re in exile or why we’ll be redeemed. That point is what troubled our Rebbeim about the Zionist idea in general, including religious Zionism. They said it’s the same point: with a yarmulke or without one, it’s the same idea. Calling it “religious” means putting a yarmulke on Zionism, but that doesn’t make it religious. Religious means that a Jew knows that being Jewish means being connected to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, and that the entire history of the Jewish people is about that. Exile is because of our sins, and Geulah comes through teshuvah. There’s nothing else; it isn’t in our power. You know the well-known saying the Frierdiker Rebbe repeated at the train station on Gimmel Tammuz 5687: “We did not go into exile of our own free will, and we will not be redeemed from it by our own strength. Our Father, blessed be He, exiled us, and He will redeem us.” It’s this point—that it isn’t nature but a miracle, that Jewish existence isn’t a matter of nature but a miracle—that our Rebbeim emphasized and continue to emphasize so strongly. And when the Rebbe Rashab speaks about the whole matter of the “war of the House of David,” what is that war against? He says explicitly in the sicha: against the Haskalah, which doesn’t believe in G-dliness at all, and against Zionism, with its weakened faith in the coming of Moshiach. The war of the House of David is against this, to strengthen faith in the coming of Moshiach ben David. That’s the point our Rebbeim make, in light of everything we’ve discussed so far.