Erev Shabbat with the Zohar (Part 1 of 2)

Shalom! Welcome to Zohar-Shabbos (that’s Shabbat for some you). With the help of Hashem (God), on Thursdays I will post a piece or two from the holy Zohar that relates to Shabbat. I will try to translate Hebrew/Aramaic words that may be unfamiliar; if I miss one and you want to know what it means, please ask. Other feedback is also welcome. These pieces will be “rendered,” a fancy way of saying “loosely translated, not exactly translated.”

This series of posts is in memory of a dear friend and teacher, Chaim Barukh Yehudah (b, Dovid Tzvi) Daskal, aka Chaim m’Yerushalayim z”l (may the mention of the righteous be for a blessing). What Reb Chaim did to honor Shabbat and to share Shabbat with others, I cannot describe. When I say “share Shabbat,” I do not mean the wine and the challah. I mean Shabbat herself. To spend Shabbos with him was to discover a new dimension of Shabbos. (Instead of writing these with tears at the thought of not being able to spend time with him again, I will try to write them with the joy that he brought to Shabbat and to life.)

Erev Shabbat (Part 1 of 2)

Shabbat is a day brimming with all sorts of kedushah, holiness. Shabbat is both a destination—a day we can enjoy the fruits of our weekday labors, material as well as spiritual—and an experiential academy that teaches us how to make even more progress in our relationship with Hashem. (For convenience and brevity’s sake we will also call this “spiritual growth.”)

Spiritual growth is a gift, but it doesn’t come free. You have to work and work and work for it. This is an indication that you want it, that you are seriously interested in your relationship with Hashem. Working for it doesn’t necessarily include taxing physical labor or strenuous mental gymnastics. It does include making hard choices.

Since Shabbat is rich and powerful, those forces in the Universe which work against our spiritual growth try to keep us from accessing Shabbat as fully as we can. They scheme to have things go wrong, get us angry or upset, etc. It is crucial to know that Hashem put these “anti-holiness” forces there. The purpose is not to torture or test you. It is to raise you by having you develop the “muscles” of your neshamah (soul). As much as you a closer relationship with God, God wants a closer relationship with you even more.

Long-time Shabbat observers already know this and if you’re just starting to keep Shabbat, you’ll soon find out. Erev Shabbat, Shabbat eve (Friday afternoons) are crackling with energy. That energy is potential kedushah. The anti-holy don’t want us to have it. It’s our job to stay on the alert and not lose our cool.

A Dining Experience

Come, see! On Friday afternoon, as evening approaches, that ball of unholy fire leaps, raising itself up in order to enter with the other three unholier forces, in order to receive its nourishment by stealing some Shabbat holiness.

But at that time, if Jews are preparing food for the Shabbat meals and setting the table for Shabbat, an even stronger, and holier, spark emerges and collides with the ball of fire. Both going flying into the Sinkhole of the Great Deep, unable to cause harm. They remain there until motzei Shabbat (Saturday night, after Shabbat).

(Source: Zohar 2:203b, Parshat VaYakhel)

Washing Up for the Neshamah Yeteirah

Before Shabbat begins the people of the holy nation have to bathe and immerse themselves in the mikveh (ritual bath) to cleanse themselves from the weekday energy that powers and, too often, controls them. Why is this?

On weekdays there is a spirit, not of the holy kind, that mingles, hangs around and hovers over people. So when a person wants divest himself of that spirit and step into a holy Shabbat spirit he needs to bathe and immerse himself in order to do so.

{The Arizal writes (Shaar HaKavanot, 62a) that a person needs to dunk twice in the mikveh. The first time is to remove the soul’s weekday “clothes,” which hinder spiritual progress. The second time is to honor Shabbat by readying oneself to receive the neshamah yeteirah, the additional soul we are granted on Shabbat.}

(Source: Zohar 2:204a, Parshat VaYakhel)

Cutting Edge

You should not grow your fingernails (or toenails) long. (“Long” means beyond the end of the finger [toe].) The longer they grow, the more you invite upon yourself spiritual troublemakers. [Fingernails are a representation of the more difficult situations of life.] You will feel uneasy.

You should keep your fingernails trimmed, but don’t throw the nail clippings underfoot. That’s disrespectful to the God’s agents you set up the difficulties; you can get hurt by them. [Life’s difficult moments are necessary. They are Hashem’s way of reminding us that we are accountable for what we do.]

This is similar to what goes on in the higher spiritual worlds. The Sitra Achra (forces of evil) tries to sneak up on the “back” of that which is holy. Its goal? To steal for itself some of the holiness. Throwing your fingernails (toenails) on the floor gives them easier access. We don’t need to do that!

(Source: Zohar 2:208b, Parshat VaYakhel)

Be Delighted. Keep Shabbos.

On Shabbat the tzaddik delivers lechem mishneh. (The term lechem mishneh refers to the “double bread,” the two loaves of challah on which the homotzi blessing is recited at each of the three Shabbat meals.) This lechem mishneh is Mishnah Torah which gives you the privilege of generating new Torah insights that are “two for one.”
The tzaddik uses the holiness of Shabbat to deliver Torah lessons that contain eye-opening and lofty teachings. In these teachings you can find a lot of ethical instruction, motivation to be awe-inspired and new levels of comprehension for understanding the truth. This is what is meant by the term chidushei Torah, new Torah insights. Because when you listen sincerely to these teachings you are infused with new awareness of Hashem and powerful inspiration to live by the Torah.
If you truly hear these Torah teachings, you become a new person—your perception and wisdom are brand new. This is why the teachings are new Torah insights.
The holiness of Shabbat has a number of positive effects. One, it generates fullness of blessing in all the spiritual worlds, including ours. Second, it permeates every single level of serving Hashem with enlightenment. That means that even ordinary people, even those who aren’t considered God-fearing, glow with increased wisdom and perception for understanding Torah and faith. This doesn’t happen by itself. The Jew has to keep Shabbat as prescribed by the Shulchan Arukh, sincerely, for the sake of Heaven.
Keeping Shabbat honestly and sincerely makes one worthy of both spiritual and physical healing.

*
You can make Shabbat shine. How? By keeping Shabbat properly and feeling the spiritual delight it gives. This awakens in you a desire to return to Hashem out of love, teshuvah m’ahavah. Keeping Shabbat properly triggers within you a love for Hashem so deep that you just want to become closer and closer to Him.
Most of the time, it is as a result of suffering that people become more caring about their relationship with Hashem. But when Shabbat shines on you, your motivation is your intense love for Hashem. You don’t need to suffer, at all, to be reminded that Hashem is always present and that you are obligated to keep the Torah (as are all of us Jews).
The illumination of Shabbat heals every sincerely observant Jew of all the suffering s/he has borne till now. S/He becomes worthy of people’s esteem. Each of these kosher Jews—in proportion to his sincerity and his honest observance of the Torah—gains recognition and honor from everybody s/he meets.
To the degree that your Torah observance is sincere and the greater prestige and esteem with which others view you, you will understand the Shabbat chidushei Torah (Torah teachings) of the generation’s leading tzaddik.

Father-Kind

Kindness builds the world. It’s not me saying that. It’s King David (Psalms 89:2). People who do kindness, especially people who actively seek to do kindness, are building God’s world.

We usually don’t think of being a father as an opportunity to be kind or to do kindness, but it certainly is. Bringing a human being into the world to serve and connect with God, to teach that human being how to navigate through life—those are huge kindnesses.

So if there’s a little person who doesn’t have his built-in Dad to provide the “how to navigate through life” kindness, it’s a huge kindness to be step in and do what Dad can’t. It’s an ever greater kindness to get people to be that person.

When I was 16, my father a”h/o.b.m. died suddenly. He survived World War II, being sent to Siberia, but died in his home by falling down a flight of stairs. It took me over 25 years to realize what I had lost, to understand what my friends had had—what my children have had—that I did not. (My wife recently pointed out that she could count on one hand how many times I have talked about my father in our 35 years of marriage.)

So when I see The Mentoring Project providing mentors for boys without fathers, it resonates. They are doing something that is beyond noble. The Mishnah teaches, “Who is wise? One who learns from anyone” (Avot/Ethics of the FATHERS 4:1). We should learn from their example.

Eating on Shabbat—Such a Pleasure!

Through the mitzvah of taking an oath—to give charity or to do something good—and fulfilling it right away, you are privileged to experience oneg Shabbat. Oneg Shabbat means engaging in the bodily pleasures on Shabbat for the sake of Heaven, and not in order to satisfy your physical cravings, God forbid.

Immediately fulfilling your oath also graduates you to a more spiritual level of eating, even on weekdays. This enhanced level of eating is also a type of oneg Shabbat. Rebbe Nachman teaches that oneg Shabbat alludes to eating in a dignified and sanctified way (Likutey Moharan I, #57). If you can eat on this level, you don’t need to fast. {Rebbe Nachman doesn’t mean you don’t have to fast on Yom Kippur or the other obligatory fast days. He means you don’t have to undertake a voluntary fast day in order to achieve your spiritual goals.} When your eating is consistently on this high level, you gain mastery over your temper. You can achieve a high level of calmness that nothing angers you or even annoys you. Besides the obvious benefit of not becoming incensed when things don’t go your way, there is a tremendous by-product.

Our Sages tell us (Pesachim 66b) that when a person becomes angry, he is stripped of some of his Torah-wisdom. The reverse is also true. When are you careful to control your temper, your lost Torah-wisdom is given back to you. As your Torah-wisdom is restored, your Divine image shines more brightly. This beaming sacred light weakens your spiritual opponents and eventually gets rid of them. They are no longer be able to harm you or anything else in Creation. This is alluded to in the Torah when it says, “All the beasts of the field will fear and dread you” (Genesis 9:2).

The food you eat on Shabbat is very precious and very holy. Why? Because that food is transformed into pure, unadulterated holiness and Godliness. The Sitra Achra (the Side of Evil, aka “the bad guys”) has no portion whatsoever in the food you eat on Shabbat. This doesn’t happen automatically. You have to eat in the dignified and sanctified manner, as we mentioned above, and you have to eat genuinely for the sake of Heaven.

As your Shabbat-eating becomes more like this—the more it is authentic oneg Shabbat—the less often you will get angry and the less your anger will be. Not only that, but people and influences that prevent you from being a better Jew will fade out of your life. Perhaps best of all, you’ll merit to love your fellow Jews and live peacefully with all of them.

Please tell me quick—What is hitbodedut?

What is hitbodedut? It starts by your going to a place where you’ll be alone, with no one around. When you’re settled you tell Hashem/God everything—everything that’s going on in your spiritual life and everything that’s going on in your material life. You tell Him about the good things and the kindnesses, and you tell Him about your troubles, God forbid. You thank Hashem for being kind and nice to you; you plead with Him to take away all your suffering. You also take an honest look at yourself. Ask yourself questions like: Are you as patient and sincere as you should be? Are your faith and trust in Hashem as firm as they should be? Are you still more jealous and timid than you should be? Are you cutting corners in your prayers? Are you being honest in your financial dealings? Still telling white lies?

And answer these questions as if you were answering them to God. Because you are. You have to determine whether or not you are really meeting up to Hashem’s expectations from you.

Don’t Be Inferior

One of the biggest challenges we face in our quest to live Jewishly, is the feeling that we can’t measure up, that certain “levels” or accomplishments are just beyond us.

This is not a feeling that only a baal teshuvah might have. Many who are born and educated in even the most “religious” and/or spiritually dedicated homes feel inferior to someone who seems more gifted, privileged or just plain lucky. (”Mazeldik” is the technical term.) The feeling is real and too often is an impediment to becoming all the Jew you can be. What should you do to so that this feeling lifts you and doesn’t bury you?

First, ask a question that you should always ask any time you feel stuck in our Jewishness: Who says? Who says that just because I’ve bumped my head on the ceiling of my Jewishness that I can’t break through it? Asking this question requires two ingredients: chutzpah and ambition.

If you’re Jewish, you automatically have chutzpah. Ambition you may also have, but maybe not. And even if you do, you may not have exerted any of your ambition on growing as a Jew. If so, start now.

This question and this ambition show up in this week’s parsha. When everyone else was busy coming closer to Hashem by bringing the korban Pesach, a small group of Jews felt excluded. Heck! They were excluded. So they (respectfully) challenged Moshe Rabbeinu (Numbers 9:7). “OK, so there’s something seriously wrong with us. Does that mean we can’t move forward with the rest of our fellow Jews? Help us out!”

Their quest and question echoes that of Rachel Imeinu (our Matriarch). Hundreds of years earlier she was confronted by a very stark truth: her sister, Leah Imeinu, was privileged to build the Jewish people by bearing children to Yaakov Avinu (our Patriarch), but she, Rachel, was not. She was not to be denied though. It was her goal to be a builder of the Jewish people. What did she do? She prayed. And prayed. And she prayed some more and she prayed again and she continued to pray.

In order to equal her sister, to match her accomplishments, Rachel Imeinu was not only ambitious, but STUBBORN. She cried, she pleaded, she begged and screamed. And she remained barren, for years. Nothing. After trying for years and seeing no results whatsoever, normal human beings give up. But to build Judaism or Jewishness from the ground floor, you can’t be “normal,” you can’t accept spiritual defeat. (And you must realize, that your current level of Jewishness is the ground floor for your Jewishness yet to come.)

In what activity do we have to be the most stubborn? In tefilah, prayer. How stubborn? Reb Noson writes: “Even if you imagine that your words don’t help at all; even if you feel that you are a million light-years distant from your Jewish goal—after all, it’s years that you’ve been pleading with Hashem to achieve Jewish growth and nothing has happened—you must continue with ‘just because’ stubbornness.”

That’s right. You have to tell your inner-skeptic, “Yes, there is no good reason to continue praying for my goal, but I’m going to do it anyway.” Your success may be too small for you to measure, or may not satisfy you as much as you like. But keep at it, writes Reb Noson; you will ultimately be equal with your fellow Jews who are already tzaddikim.

For Heaven’s Sake!

(With the kind permission of Pe’er Yisroel Institute)

Even if one’s sin contains absolutely no trace of mitzvah, that’s no reason for a person to forget Hashem, one’s Maker. He should mention God aloud. He should inject some “sake of Heaven,” whatever it might be, even if it’s farfetched, into what he’s doing. Look at King Saul. As he was committing the sin of going to a soothsayer, he swore, As God lives! (Shmuel-1 28:10).[1] …

They said something similar about Hillel. He would say “Baruch (blessed is) Hashem, day in and day out.” Everything he did was for the sake of Heaven, even though he was lazy in honoring Shabbos. He wasn’t like Shammai who started on Sunday to prepare for Shabbos.

The Rashbatz, Cheilek Hashem Amo of Magen Avos on Pirkei Avos

[1] The Rashbatz also brings the Midrash (Vayikra Rabbah 26:7): What was Saul like at that moment? Reish Lakish says, “He was like an unfaithful wife who was with her paramour and took an oath in the name of her husband. That was Saul—consulting a soothsayer and saying, “As God lives!”

Thankful for Chanukah

Do you remember that it was Chanukah, just a week ago? What do we take away from it? What do we take away from eight days of lighting candles (what’s so “spiritual” about that?), of saying Hallel (that’s pretty “religious”), thanking God (also “religious”) and maybe eating latkes. Oh, yeah, and playing dreidel. That’s very extremely religious, somehow. (Can’t believe that I didn’t spin a dreidel this past Chanukah. Then again, I was spinning myself around, taking care of Mother, so that counts for something.)

We tweeted one Chanukah day that one reason Chanukah is eight days, rather than seven, is to teach us that Chanukah never ends. We need to—we want to—keep on thanking Hashem, from this world clear into the next world. Thanking Hashem not only implies recognizing that you are being cared for, benefitted and that you owe something to the Giver, it is all of these. It is recognizing and communing with the Giver.

The more we thank Hashem for, the more He shines His light of goodness into the world. The ideal height for light the Chanukah menorah is between about 11–35 inches, a third of a meter to just under a meter. Why so low? It’s impossible to gauge the depth of wisdom encapsulated by the light of the Chanukah light, or even of its oil or its wick. But we are human and we are Jews. We are created with a desire to understand, to “explain” and “theorize” as much as we can. We find life so much easier when we (think we) know “why.”

But our Sages, who told us to light, told us that Chanukah light/luminosity is not meant to be used like ordinary light, even if we want to use it to learn Torah. It is a light placed low because we have to reflect on the humble, less glorious parts of life. We need to silently reflect that this great light is not only for the brain, or for the geniuses. It is a light for all of life, even the mundane and profane parts. It is a light for all of us, when we (think we) know and when we (realize that we) don’t know.

Because often, when we don’t know that’s when we can know the most. When we think we know or have the answers, we miss information, instruction and inspiration. By putting the Chanukah lights “off limits” and in “the strangest of places” (to light a light), our Sages are sending us a message: Be humble; be open; be aware. This is how we continue to be thankful and get to be more thankful.

Eight nights. Full circle and then some. It’s a long winter. You never know how dark or cold it’s going to get. Make sure to carry Chanukah with you. And don’t thank me; thank God.

Getting Ready for Rosh Hashanah

One of the things we learned from our ruminations about Uman and LSD is that a big part of our spiritual—excuse me, Jewish—mission is getting along with our fellow Jews. (Of course, Rebbe Akiva put this a bit more succinctly when he said “Love your fellow as you love yourself” [Leviticus 19:18] is a major principle of the Torah [Bereishis Rabbah 24:7].)

But loving people—even if you don’t like them and even if you can’t stand them—and inter-acting civilly is not the last step. It’s the first step. The real power of love is much greater. Pardon the cliché, but the whole is far greater than the sum of its parts.

As you know, Rosh Hashanah is Yom HaDin, Judgment Day. We pray to be written in the Book of Life, for a sweet, happy and healthy new year. But that judgment thing, you know, just won’t go away. Fortunately, God also wants us to come out with a good verdict. So we have to give Him some good reason to make it come out right.

Each of us has the ability to influence the verdict. In fact, you are one of the judges. You are not the chief justice, but your opinion will not only be heard, but it will factor into the final decision. Rebbe Nachman teaches, “On Rosh Hashanah one must be wise and think only good thoughts, that God will be good to us ….” (Rabbi Nachman’s Wisdom #21).

That means, don’t just wish for a good year, and don’t just hope for happiness and good fortune, but “be wise.” Think about what is good, what would truly be good if it happened, if it existed. “Think only good thoughts” about how you, and others, can be better at living a more wholesome Jewish life, for example. Focus and concentrate on how and in what ways “God will be good to us.”

Don’t be selfish and use your wise thinking only on you and yours. Think about your friends, neighbors, local, city, state and federal governments. (I’m not a big fan of politicians, to put it mildly. This recommendation is not for their sake, but ours, per the Mishnah [Avot 3:2], “Pray for the welfare of the government.”) Think wisely about the material misery of so many across the globe, but think even more wisely about the decline of morality and of civilization which need to be reversed.

Our individual efforts to “think only good thoughts” will have a positive impact, but only to a limited degree. The reason? Because as strongly as you or I focus on bettering the world, we are acting singly. We can mitigate the judgment only to our individual limits. But what if we thought together? What if we were so in love with one another before Rosh Hashanah that we agreed on which were the best, or most necessary, points to “be wise” about and we focused on them together?

Yeah, that would be pretty cool. Now, maybe it’s too close to Rosh Hashanah 5774 to do something globally, maybe not. But certainly, it’s not too late to discuss with some friends and fellow shul/synagogue/chaburah-goers about which “good thoughts” to think and in what ways we want “God to be good to us.” Ditto, for folks, spouse and siblings.

Uniting in peace and love, even as a small group, creates a mind much greater in scope, with much greater power. The Rebbe teaches (Rabbi Nachman’s Wisdom #62):

When thought is intensely concentrated and focused, it can exert great influence. All faculties of the mind, conscious and unconscious, down to the innermost point, must be focused without distraction. When many people do this without distraction, their thinking can actually force something to happen. (See there for a caveat!)

A final word. We usually think of “good” in material terms, “more” and “better,” “bigger” and “faster.” When Rebbe Nachman says “good” he means an eternal good beyond our comprehension—but within our ability to live.

What is Teshuvah?

What is teshuvah? Teshuvah is change—change of behavior, change of heart and change of mind.

When we change from cheeseburgers to chulent, from bar-hopping to beis midrash-going, and g’neivisheh shtick to kosher gelt, our new behaviors indicate (to others, but most importantly to ourselves) that other changes have taken place within us. Outside motions are sometimes nothing more than an act, but they are more often a test of our inner resolve.

Did we really have a change of heart? Did we really take stock of the gifts that Hashem Yisborakh (Blessed God) gave and gives us? Not just the sweet-tasting gifts, mind you, but the ones that make us sweat and put our shoulder to the grindstone, and the ones that make us weep. Did we stop to think about the gap between what we sense, what we intuit deep inside of our heart about what we know is the purpose of our life and what we really do, how we actually spend our time? Did we hear the inaudible scream of our heart that mourns the disconnect between our inborn Yiddishe neshamah and our lives hijacked by galus Edom (the current exile)?

Our outer changes give an indication that yes, we did. We felt, all things considered, life had to change, so we changed it. But our inner discontent, that nagging feeling that it’s not enough, that the gap is still too large, is a better indicator that our change of heart is still effective, still evolving, still pumping new life into our Yiddishkeit.

But after all this wonderful and necessary change, did we change our minds?

We all know the famous Gemara (Kiddushin 49b), that if a man says to a woman, “You are my wife on condition that I am a tzaddik,” she is married to him (if she said yes!). No matter what crimes he has done, no matter how often, no matter for how long he has been doing them, she is wife. Why? The Gemara explains, “Maybe he had a thought of teshuvah.”

He didn’t put on tzitzit or tefillin, didn’t give tzedakkah (charity) or drop his ham sandwich — yet. Nothing. But already, despite not doing anything positive, he is already a complete tzaddik because of one thought, “I will improve on my Jewishness.”

This Gemara has a flipside. If a man, even a known tzaddik, says to a woman, “You are my wife on condition that I am a rasha (villain),” she is married to him (if she said yes). Why? The Gemara explains, “Maybe he had a thought of idolatry.”

Another famous Gemara (Kiddushin 39b). A youngster climbs a tree to do the mitzvah of shiluach hakein at his father’s request, falls and dies. Acher didn’t understand how a person doing the two mitzvahs for which the holy Torah promises long life could die while doing them! The Gemara answers that the youngster had his thoughts focused on avodah zarah (idolatry). The value of what you do—including teshuvah—is set by your mind.

I once asked Reb Shlomo Freifeld zal why teshuvah is easier at the beginning stages, but becomes progressively harder as one continues his journey. He answered, “At first teshuvah is like cutting off a gangrened limb. Then it becomes brain surgery.” He was referring to the elimination of the many subtle traces of the poisonous influences that infect our motivation, our ego-worship and our greed among them.

I want to elaborate. We who have grown up in galus (exile), regardless which nation was our host, have been so attacked by goyish culture, attitudes and values that we are concussed. Without even realizing it, we have goals that our not Jewish, standards that are not Jewish, and ways and methods for dealing with ordinary (and extraordinary) situations that are not Jewish. (Of course, by “Jewish” I mean that which the holy Torah recommends or, at the very least, sanctions.)

That is, for the most part, we think like goyim. What’s worse is, we aren’t even aware that we do.

I’m not an anti-Esavian or an anti-Ishmaelite. On the contrary. I’m a member of the minute minority that holds that v’ahavta l’reiakha k’mokha means to love goyim as well. (Yes, there is such a pre-19^th century deah.) Doesn’t mean I want to be one or think like one, God forbid.

The real test of our teshuvah—and do yourself a favor: be ready to be tested over and over for the rest of your life—is how we think when confronted with a challenge. Do we analyze, reflect and consider our challenge(s) solely by the Torah’s attitude? Or do we mix in some political doctrine, philosophical inquiry or scientific bias in trying to figure out what the desired outcome is and how we might achieve it?

Let me be a bit more blunt. When we have a problem, where do we go for a solution? To the Torah? Or, God forbid, to Google? When we need a modus operandi for a situation, do we search for it with a talmid chakham, a Jew saturated with Torah knowledge and experience, or some bright guy with a Ph.D.?*

Teshuvah never ends. Up to and including our dying moment, we have to be vigilant that what (and how) we do, what we want and how we see life, fits the Divine wisdom we call Torah. It’s not always easy—even with Rabbeinu zal, good friends and hisbodedus helping us—but, hey, God chose you. You can do it—if you want to.

*I am quite aware that the ability to give good advice is not produced only by knowledge and level of religious observance. It also requires seikhel!

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