Sweet or Spicy? - Two Types of Delicacies Why the inner struggle? Why do we find that it is a constant struggle to make the right, constructive, healthy, and positive choices in our lives? Why were we created with an unrelenting inner struggle? In this week’s Torah portion, we read about the twins born to Isaac and Rebekah. Jacob grew up to be a “wholesome man who dwells in tents {of study}”, Jacob carried the spiritual legacy of his father and grandfather, whereas Esau was a “man who understood hunting, a man of the field,” Esau pursued material success and physical might, with no interest in matters of the spirit. The dichotomy of Jacob and Esau was not merely a result of their choices. The Midrash explains that their eventual behavior can be traced back to the womb. As Rashi explains, on the verse “the children struggled within her {Rebekah}”: This verse calls for a Midrashic interpretation, for it does not explain what this struggling was all about, and [Scripture] wrote, “If it be so, why am I [like] this?” Our Rabbis interpreted it as an expression of running. When she passed by the entrances of [the] Torah [academies] of Shem and Eber, Jacob would run and struggle to come out; when she passed the entrance of [a temple of] idolatry, Esau would run and struggle to come out. A similar question emerges: why did G-d create Esau with a desire for sin? Why would a child of the righteous Isaac and Rebekah be born with an inclination toward evil? In the Tanya, Rabbi Shneor Zalman of Liadi, the founder of Chabad, explains that the inner struggle we face is not an impediment distracting us from fulfilling our purpose; but rather, we were specifically created to overcome the challenge of the struggle. We were created not for our own pleasure but rather in order to have the opportunity to bring pleasure to our creator. Esau, therefore, was born with an inclination and desire for negativity because his path to G-d, the way his deepest potential would emerge, was specifically by embracing and triumphing over negativity. That is where he would find the purpose of his creation. When Isaac sought to bless Esau, he told him, “Make for me tasty foods as I like, and bring them to me, and I will eat, in order that my soul will bless you before I die.” The Zohar explains that Isaac was referring not only to the physical food but to spiritual nourishment as well. Issac employs the plural form, delicacies, alluding to the two forms of “delicacies” that bring pleasure to G-d, the righteous who are naturally drawn to do good, and to whom negativity is not tempting, is the “sweet food”. In contrast, the people who have to struggle and overcome inner tensions generate pleasurable “spicy food,” which, when appropriately prepared, causes immense pleasure. In the words of the Tanya: There are two kinds of Divine pleasure: one from the complete annihilation of the sitra achara {the “other side”, the unholiness} and the conversion of bitter to sweet and of darkness to light, which is accomplished by the righteous… and the second when the sitra achara is subdued while it is still at its strongest and most powerful, soaring like an eagle… This is alluded to in the verse, “And make me delicacies, such as I love,”where the word matamim (“delicacies”) is written in the plural, indicating two kinds of pleasure. These words are the charge of the Shechinah to its children, the community of Israel, as explained in Tikkunei Zohar — that with these words, G‑d asks of the Jewish people to please Him with their divine service. Just as with material food, there are two kinds of delicacies — one of sweet and luscious foods and the other of sharp or sour articles which are unpleasant to eat in their natural state, but have been well spiced and prepared so that they become delicacies which revive the soul — so, too, are there two kinds of spiritual delicacies. (Tanya, Chapter 27)
Blog - Torah Insights
Sweet or Spicy? - תולדות
The Orchestrated Chance Encounter - חיי שרה
The Orchestrated Chance Encounter Translation is always tricky business, yet sometimes the stakes are even higher than usual. In this week's Torah portion we encounter a word whose translation has far-reaching theological implications. Eliezer, Abraham's loyal servant, was sent back to Charan to find a wife for Isaac. Arriving at the well, he prays to G-d and asks for assistance in his important mission. He says: "O Lord, the God of my master Abraham, please cause to happen to me today, and perform loving kindness with my master, Abraham." The Hebrew word "Hakreh", related to the word "mikreh", usually means "by chance" or "unintentionally". The theological question, of course, is whether there is such a thing as chance, or are events orchestrated intentionally by G-d? In his prayer, Eliezer employs the word "Hakraeh" which means chance. Apparently, some translations did all they could to avoid using the word "chance". Here are a few examples of translations: "Send me good speed this day". "Grant me good fortune this day". "Be present before me". "Arrange for me this day". Other translations prefer a more literal translation, incorporating, or at least allowing, the concept of chance: "let it happen today for me". "make it chance". While more aligned with the literal translation, these translations create a paradox: Eliezer prays that G-d orchestrate a chance encounter; the problem, of course, is that if it would be orchestrated then it would not be by chance. The Hebrew language will help us untangle the confusion. The Hebrew root word for chance, קרה, is phonetically identical to the root word of calling, קרא. What the Hebrew language is teaching us is that what seems to be a chance encounter is, in fact, a calling. For every event that occurs in our life, every circumstance we chance upon, every opportunity and challenge that presents itself in our path, is G-d calling to us to embrace the opportunities and mission within that encounter. This is perhaps one of the most important messages of the Torah, which would explain why the Torah elaborates and repeats every detail of the story of Eliezer. While the words "chance" and "calling" are polar opposites, Hebrew, the holy tongue, and the story of Eliezer insist that they are one and the same. Every event in our lives is indeed a G-dly calling for us to imbue meaning, kindliness, and holiness into what seems a chance encounter.
How to Be an Abraham - וירא
How to Be an Abraham In the opening scene of this week's Torah portion, G-d appears to Abraham as he is sitting at the opening of his tent: Now the Lord appeared to him in the plains of Mamre, and he was sitting at the entrance of the tent when the day was hot. And he lifted his eyes and saw, and behold, three men were standing beside him, and he saw and he ran toward them from the entrance of the tent, and he prostrated himself to the ground. (Genesis, 18:1-2) Abraham, while experiencing Divine revelation, noticed three bypassers and ran to invite them to rest and eat. The Talmud derives from this story that inviting guests is greater than greeting the Divine presence: Rav Yehuda said that Rav said: Hospitality toward guests is greater than receiving the Divine Presence, as when Abraham invited his guests it is written: "And he said: Lord, if now I have found favor in Your sight, please pass not from Your servant". Abraham requested that God, the Divine Presence, wait for him while he tended to his guests appropriately. The message conveyed is that even our connection to G-d should not interfere with our care and concern for our fellow man. The Rebbe interpreted this story from a different angle. The Torah conveys that the way to experience Divine revelation is by being devoted to helping others. The Torah tells us that G-d appeared to Abraham as "he was sitting at the entrance of the tent"; but why was he sitting there to begin with? Rashi, quoting the Talmud, explains: "to see whether there were any passersby whom he would bring into his house". G-d appeared to Abraham only after, and as a result of, Abraham's commitment to seek out people who needed assistance and support. The conventional lesson of the story is not to allow one's spiritual meditation, study, and focus to interfere with helping others. The Rebbe's interpretation explains how each of us can experience Divine inspiration in our own life. Indeed, the verse states "Now the Lord appeared to him", without mentioning Abraham’s name explicitly, because the same applies to each of us. By "sitting at the opening of the tent", seeking ways to help and inspire others, we will experience the inspiration and bond with the Divine.
Why is a Land so Important to Judaisim? - לך לך
Why is a Land so Important to Judaism?
Why is a piece of land so important to Judaism?
The very first commandment to Abraham, the first Jew, was "Go from your land, from your birthplace, and from your father's house, to the land that I will show you”. As soon as Abraham reached the land of Cannan, G-d told him, "To your offspring, I will give this land". At the conclusion of the portion we read about the covenant G-d made with Abraham, the covenant of circumcision, “This is My covenant, which you shall observe between Me and between you and between your seed after you, that every male among you be circumcised". The covenant of circumcision is related to the covenant of the land: "And I will establish My covenant between Me and between you and between your seed after you throughout their generations as an everlasting covenant, to be to you for a God and to your seed after you. And I will give you and your seed after you the land of your sojournings, the entire land of Canaan for an everlasting possession, and I will be to them for a God".
Why is the land so important to Judaism? And why is the promise of the land related to the covenant of circumcision?
Abraham was the first Jew, the first to discover the one G-d through the power of his own curiosity and intellectual inquiry. Abraham "called in the name of Hashem", taught people about monotheism. But the story of Abraham and the story of Judaism is more than a story about faith and more than a story about living a holy lifestyle. The story of Abraham, and the purpose of Judaism is to connect heaven and earth, to infuse the physical world with holiness.
Circumcision, "My covenant shall be in your flesh as an everlasting covenant", represents the primary purpose of Judaism, not to transcend and connect to the heavens for their own sake, but rather the connection to G-d should permeate and change the physical body. And this is why the land is critical. The land of Israel, the Holy Land, where the soil itself is holy, like circumcision, symbolizes the goal and purpose of Judaism: sanctify every part of this physical earth.
As summarized so beautifully in the new edition of the Chumash, elucidated by Rabbi Yanki Tauber:
Indeed, if there is a common thread to the themes of Lech Lecha, it is this: the imperative to concretize spiritual ideals as actual, physical realities. Hence the emphasis on the land - a defined physical space - as the ground for the actualization of Israel's covenant with God. Hence the emphasis and the need for physical progeny for Abraham and Sarah - much of our Parsha revolves around the anticipation of this physical child - although Abraham and Sarah produced spiritual offsprings by the thousands. Hence the emphasis on the material wealth Abraham and Sarah extracted from Egypt, and the material wealth their children would extract from that same place 400 years later. Hence Abraham's identity change from "exalted father" to "father of multitudes". Hence the communication of Lech Lecha in Abraham circumcision - the ultimate physical Mitzvah.
Adapted from the teachings of the Rebbe, Vayere 1991
Why There Will Never Be Another Flood - נח
Why There Will Never Be Another Flood After the devastating flood, G-d declared that he would never again bring a flood that would destroy all of the earth. What caused this dramatic shift? The Torah tells us that it was in response to the offerings that Noah offered after the flood: And the Lord smelled the pleasant aroma, and the Lord said to Himself, "I will no longer curse the earth because of man, for the imagination of man's heart is evil from his youth, and I will no longer smite all living things as I have done. (Genesis 8:21) It seems that the Midrash was troubled by the question of what it was about the pleasing aroma of the offerings that caused this dramatic turnaround, the Midrash therefore suggests that the "pleasing aroma" of the offerings that Noah offered, actually represented the commitment, dedication, and readiness of the future generations to sacrifice their own life for their commitment to G-d: The pleasing aroma that arose when Avraham, our forefather, was in the fiery furnace…, the pleasing aroma that arose when Chananiah, Mishael, and Azariah were in the fiery furnace…, and the pleasing aroma of the Generation of Forced Apostasy. (Bereshis Rabbah 34:9) The willingness to cleave to G-d despite incredible external pressure expresses the soul's unconditional, unwavering, unchanging connection to G-d. This unchanging commitment elicits the unconditional, unchanging bond between G-d and creation expressed in the Divine promise: "So long as the earth exists, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, and day and night shall not cease." There is a more profound point as well. The sacrifice and dedication that the Jewish people demonstrated during times of persecution and darkness represent a profound truth: the greatest commitment and dedication cannot be generated and mobilized in times of "light" and serenity. For the darkness itself is what causes the greatest devotion to be awakened. Just like stones and obstacles placed into a stream will increase the energy and force with which the stream flows, so too, the darkness of the world does not bring to its destruction; but rather, it inspires individuals to tap into the deepest resources of the soul, which is bound up in the essence of G-d, and find greater strength and resolve, ultimately prevailing and transforming the evil itself into positivity. Adapted from the teachings of the Rebbe, Likkutei Sichos 20 Noach 3