Blog - Torah Insights

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)

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 

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 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 

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  

Begin with Bet?

Why does the Torah begin with the letter Bet, the second letter of the Hebrew alphabet? 

This question, raised by the Sages of the Midrash, is premised on the idea that every detail in the Torah, including each letter and nuance, is precise. In that case, the Midrash comments, would it not be more fitting for the Torah to begin with an Aleph, the first Hebrew letter? The Midrash teaches that indeed, for the first twenty-six generations of history, until the Torah was given, the letter Aleph complained to G-d, asking why it was not the first and primary letter in the opening statement of the Torah describing the beginning of creation. G-d responded by reassuring the Alef that when G-d would give the Torah to the Jewish people, the ten commandments would indeed begin with the letter Aleph:

Rabbi Elazar bar Ḥanina said in the name of Rabbi Aḥa: For twenty-six generations, the alef complained before the throne of the Holy One blessed be He. It said before Him: ‘Master of the universe, I am the first of the letters, but You did not create Your world with me.’ The Holy One blessed be He said to it: ‘The world and all its contents were created only for the sake of the Torah, as it is stated: “The Lord founded the earth with wisdom…” (Proverbs 3:19). Tomorrow {in the future}, I will be coming to give the Torah at Sinai, and I will open it at its beginning only with you, as it is stated: “I [Anochi] am the Lord your God”’ (Midrash Rabbah, Bereishit 1:10)

The opening verse of Genesis, “In the beginning G-d created the heavens and the earth”, represents the duality of the universe we live in, where everything is comprised of matter and energy, body and soul, physical and spiritual. The letter Bet, the second letter of the Hebrew Alphabet, was chosen to begin the story of creation, precisely because it represents the number two, the challenge and tension that is created by the conflict between the matter and the spirit, the holy and the mundane, the positive and the negative. 

This tension seems to be at the bedrock of creation, for it is featured in the very first and primary word describing creation. Yet, for generations, the letter Aleph, representing oneness and unity, protested silently. The letter Aleph would not accept that the universe must always remain in a state of inner conflict between two extreme poles. “Why not create a cohesive and united universe, a world where the unity of G-d would permeate all of reality?” insisted the letter Aleph. 

G-d responds that, indeed, the Ten Commandments, representing the awesome power of the Torah, begins with an Aleph, for the Torah reveals the deeper truth, that both the body and soul, the physical and the spiritual, the positive and the negative, are part of one whole, created by one G-d, for one unified purpose. The Ten Commandments begin with an Aleph, because a Jew, through studying the Torah and implementing its teachings, stitches together the physical and spiritual, revealing that the polar opposite forces of heaven and earth represented by the Bet, can be united and incorporated into a wholesome oneness.   

Why a Covenant? 

On the final day of Moses’s life, he gathered all the Jewish people together in order for them to pass into a covenant with G-d. As the opening statement of this week’s Torah portion begins: 

You are all standing this day before the Lord, your God the leaders of your tribes, your elders and your officers, every man of Israel…

that you may pass into the covenant of the Lord, your God, and His oath, which the Lord, your God, is making with you this day. (Deuteronomy 29:9-11)

What exactly is a covenant? While the conventional understanding is that a covenant is an agreement that each party commits to in exchange for receiving something in return, in the Torah, a covenant is much more than a conditional agreement. 

A covenant is not designed for those times when both parties appreciate their relationship and are happy to be there for each other. A covenant is specifically designed for the moments when the parties do not see any reason to remain connected, yet they do so because of the unconditional commitment of the covenant. As the Alter Rebbe, the founder of the Chabad movement, explains: 

To explain through an analogy: Two beloved establish a covenant between themselves so that the love they share should not cease. Now, were the factor that brought about the love to continue forever, there would be no need for a covenant. However, they fear that will cease and, the love will also cease or that there will be an external factor that will cause .

For these reasons, they establish a covenant that their love will continue forever without faltering; neither an internal nor an external factor will cause any separation they establish a strong and powerful bond that they will remain as one and will bond in love in a wondrous relationship that transcends reason and logic. Even though, according to reason and logic, there that should cause the love to cease or even generate a certain degree of hatred, nevertheless, because of the covenant established, their love persists forever. This love and this strong and powerful bond will “cover all offenses.” (Likutei Torah, Atem Nitzavim)

Rashi addresses why the Torah uses the word “pass into the covenant” and explains that the manner of creating a covenant was to cut something, usually an animal, into two and have both parties pass through between the parts:

Does G-d Regret the Exile? 

The Talmudic sages teach that there are entities that G-d regrets having creating. They include, the evil inclination within man, and the Chaldean and Ishmaelite peoples who oppressed the Jewish people throughout history. 

There, however, seems to be a disagreement regarding a fourth phenomenon, the exile, about which we read in this week’s Torah portion. The Babylonian Talmud lists the exile as one of the circumstances that G-d regrets having created:

Rav Chana bar Acha said that the Sages in the school of Rav say: There are four things that the Holy One, Blessed be He, regrets creating, And these are they: Exile, Chaldeans, and Ishmaelites, and the evil inclination. (Babylonian Talmud, Sukkah 55b)

Whereas the Jerusalem Talmud omits the exile from the list of G-d’s regrets: 

Rabbi Joshua Ben Yair in the name of Rabbi Phineas ben Yair {stated}: Three {things} the Holy One, praise to Him, created, and was wondering {regretting} why He created them. These are the Chaldeans, the Ishamalites, and the evil inclination. (Jerusalem Talmud, Taanit 3:4)

A careful analysis of both texts, reveal that this disagreement represents a profound philosophical difference in the way we view negativity and challenging circumstances in our world.  

In the Bablylonian Talmud the expression is “regrets creating”, highlighting the regret; whereas the expression employed by the Jerusalem Talmud is “created, and was wondering {regretting} why He created them”. The Jerusalem Talmud emphasizes, not only the regret (“wondering {regretting} why He created them”), but also that these were created by G-d (“The Holy One, praise to Him, created”). In other words, while the Babylonian Talmud focuses solely on the negative aspect of these creations, the Jerusalem Talmud, emphasizes not only the negative aspect (“wondering {regretting} why He created them”), but also the positive aspect (“The Holy One, praise to Him, created”). 

The Babylonian Talmud, was authored in the diaspora, in a state of relative spiritual darkness. Indeed, the Babylonian Talmud states that the Biblical verse in Lamentations, “He (G-d) placed me in darkness”, refers to the Babylonian Talmud, where there are far more questions and debates than in the Jerusalem Talmud. In a state of spiritual darkness the focus is not on what may happen in the future, but rather the focus is primarily on the present. Therefore, when the sages look at the negative state of affairs of exile they proclaim that the negativity within the experience of the exile, is something that G-d regrets, and therefore it will not endure.  

The Jerusalem Talmud, by contrast, was authored in the land of Israel, in a state of relative holiness and spiritual enlightenment and clarity. Therefore, as a rule, the Jerusalem Talmud takes into account not just the current state of affairs but also the future. In the future, the practical aspect of exile will cease to exist, and therefore the Jerusalem Talmud does not mention exile. The Jerusalem Talmud focuses on the future, where two things will happen, the negative aspect of reality will no longer exist, (“wondering {regretting} why He created them”), and more interesting and more novel than that,the energy of evil itself, the passion of the evil inclination and the wicked nations, which was created by G-d, will be transformed into positivity.

The Jerusalem Talmud teaches us to view reality by incorporating not only its current negative form, but to actually perceive the future transformation within the current state of darkness. 

Adapted from the teachings of the Rebbe, Lekutei Sichos 24 Ki Savo 2 

Self-Doubt on the Road to Sinai 

"You shall remember what Amalek did to you on the way, when you went out of Egypt." 

Remembering Amalek is the final commandment in this week's portion, and is one of the "six remembrances", the daily recitation of six events in our history which we are commanded to remember.

What is the purpose of remembering Amalek? The Torah reminds us of what Amalek did, and tells us about the obligation to battle Amalek: 

How he happened upon you on the way and cut off all the stragglers at your rear, when you were faint and weary, and he did not fear God.

[Therefore,] it will be, when the Lord your God grants you respite from all your enemies around [you] in the land which the Lord, your God, gives to you as an inheritance to possess, that you shall obliterate the remembrance of Amalek from beneath the heavens. You shall not forget!

Why do we recite these verses every day if this commandment cannot be fulfilled in the practical sense? Battling Amalek cannot be done today since (a) the commandment is upon the Jewish monarch, which does not exist today, and (b) we currently cannot identify the lineage of Amalek. 

Chasidisim teaches that Amalek represents doubt. The Numerical value of the Hebrew letters that create Amalek is the same as the word for doubt, "Safek". Every morning, we awake with the goal of leaving the limitations and constraints of the metaphorical Egypt and moving closer to "Mount Sinai", the place where we connect to G-d and embrace our spiritual mission and inner purpose. And then, precisely when we begin our journey, Amalek strikes. The verse states, "How he happened upon you." The Hebrew word for "happened", Karcha, is the same word as "kor", coldness. Amalek steps in and drains us of passion and excitement with thoughts of self-doubt: perhaps my efforts won't bear fruit, perhaps I will not succeed, perhaps the people I love will not appreciate my efforts and commitment. Perhaps all this is meaningless. 

While a dose of doubt is beneficial to ensure that we are reaching the truth, not making mistakes or being taken advantage of, doubt "on the road", while we are beginning to work to achieve our goal, is always a terrible thing and must always be battled immediately and fiercely. For no endeavor will succeed without passion and excitement, no endeavor will succeed if one believes that he is in a situation by chance (as Amalek is described as "happened upon you"); to live a life of meaning and purpose, a person must believe that his endeavor is significant and precisely what he needs to engage in so that he proceeds to Sinai.   

Every morning, our tools to battle the coldness and self-doubt of Amalek are our enthusiastic passion in prayer and Torah study, and by remembering that we are critical partners in G-d's purpose for creation. 

Adapted from the teachings of the Rebbe, Likkutei Sichos vol. 2 Ki Teize 

Where are the Police? 

Judges and police officers are the basis for a civilized nation. The law and its implementation are what ensure a just society. Thus, the opening statement of this week's portion is the commandment to establish a justice system: 

You shall set up judges and law enforcement officials for yourself in all your cities that the Lord, your God, is giving you, for your tribes, and they shall judge the people [with] righteous judgment. (Deuteronomy 16:18)

Like every part of the Torah, this commandment has a spiritual and psychological meaning within every person's life. Judges who adjudicate and determine the law represent the human mind when it is in a state of clarity, enlightenment, and objectivity. The mind directs the person to make the right choice, just as the judge clarifies the law. Yet, occasionally, intellectual knowledge is insufficient to overcome the negative drives within a person. At these moments, a person must rely on his "police officers" to overcome his negative cravings and instincts, forcing himself, by the sheer power of commitment and willpower, to reject the negative while embracing positive actions. Conversely, "police officers", willpower and commitment alone are insufficient. For inner transformation results not from willpower alone, but rather from intellectual knowledge and awareness.    

Three times every weekday we pray for the restoration of the Jewish judiciary: "Restore our judges as at first and our counselors as in the beginning”. This blessing paraphrases the prophet Isaiah: "And I will restore your judges as at first and your counselors as in the beginning; afterwards you shall be called City of Righteousness, Faithful City. (Isaiah 1:26)"

While Moses, in this week's portion, refers to "judges and police officers", Isaiah, prophesying about the future redemption, speaks of judges and counselors. Because in the Messianic era, people will not need to be coerced to implement justice, nor will they have to push against inner negativity in order to live a wholesome life. For in the future, we will have an innate desire to follow and internalize the will of G-d as embodied by the just commandments of the Torah.  

Adapted from the teachings of the Rebbe, Shabbat Shoftim 1991

Two Cities, Two States of Being 

There are two locations in the land of Israel discussed in this week’s Torah portion. In the opening verses of the portion, we read about the ceremony that the Jewish people were to perform as soon as they entered the land: the declaration of the blessings and the curses between the two mountains Gerizim and Abal: 

Behold, I set before you today a blessing and a curse.

The blessing, that you will heed the commandments of the Lord your God, which I command you today;

and the curse, if you will not heed the commandments of the Lord your God, but turn away from the way I command you this day, to follow other gods, which you did not know.

And it will be, when the Lord, your God, will bring you to the land to which you come, to possess it, that you shall place those blessing upon Mount Gerizim, and those cursing upon Mount Ebal. (Deuteronomy 11:26-29)

Gerizim and Ebal surround the city of Shechem, which has a problematic history for the Jewish people. The outskirts of Shechem was the place where the sons of Jacob kidnapped and sold their brother as a slave. Quoting the Talmud, Rashi comments on the word Shechem and states: “A place destined for misfortune. There the tribes sinned, there Dinah was violated, there the kingdom of the house of David was divided”.

Later in the portion, the Torah describes another place, “the place G-d will choose”; a place where the Jewish people will go to celebrate the three annual pilgrim holidays and the place where they will gather to celebrate and consume the tithings of their produce: 

You shall tithe all the seed crop that the field gives forth, year by year.

And you shall eat before the Lord, your God, in the place He chooses to establish His Name therein, the tithes of your grain, your wine, and your oil, and the firstborn of your cattle and of your sheep, so that you may learn to fear the Lord, your God, all the days. (Deuteronomy 14:22-23)

These two places, Shechem and Jerusalem, represent two stages in the spiritual development of the collective Jewish people as well as every individual Jew. When we first enter the land of Israel, when we first begin our journey to reach a state of meaning, holiness, and closeness to G-d, we encounter the two mountains of Gerizim and Ebal, where we have to exercise our free choice to decide between good and evil, between the blessing and the curse. At the beginning of our spiritual development, we are pulled between the power of the holy and the seductive lure of negativity. When we first enter Israel, we are in Shechem, the place where struggle, failure, and ultimately correction are possible.  

And then we reach Jerusalem. 

Historically, Jerusalem was selected as “the place G-d will choose”, more than four centuries after the people entered the land. Jerusalem represents the deeper place in our soul and psyche where there is no inner struggle, only a wholesome experience of awareness and celebration of our connection to G-d. In Jerusalem, there is no struggle between the positive and the negative, between the physical and the spiritual. In Jerusalem, celebrating and consuming our grain and wine and eating the meat of the offerings is, in fact, a holy experience. In Jerusalem, our deepest core emerges. In Jerusalem the physical and spiritual parts of our life are integrated with one desire to serve and celebrate our connection to G-d.    

The Great Voice That Has No Echo 

Describing the revelation at Mount Sinai and the voice that the people heard, Moses says:  

The Lord spoke these words to your entire assembly at the mountain out of the midst of the fire, the cloud, and the opaque darkness, with a great voice, which did not cease. And He inscribed them on two stone tablets and gave them to me. (Deuteronomy 5:19)

The Hebrew words "Vlo Yasaf", translated here as "(the great voice) that did not cease", is one of the tricky words in Hebrew that are difficult to decipher because they have two opposite meanings." Vlo Yasaf", could mean (1) it did not cease, meaning it is ongoing. Or "Vlo Yasaf" could mean (2) it did not repeat, implying that the voice only happened once. Indeed, Rashi offers these two possible interpretations for this verse:  

Which did not cease: Heb. וְלֹא יָסָף, interpreted by the Targum: וְלָא פְּסָק "and it did not cease"... for His voice is strong and exists continuously. Another explanation of וְלֹא יָסָף: He never again revealed Himself so publicly [as He did on Mount Sinai. Accordingly, we render: and He did not continue].

The Midrash offers another interpretation, consistent with the second meaning - "it did not repeat". The Midrash explains that the great voice that the Jewish people heard at Sinai, did not have an echo. 

What is the significance of the voice at Sinai not having an echo? Wouldn't the powerful, booming voice of G-d create an enormous, awe-inspiring echo? An echo is formed when the sound waves hit a surface in which they cannot be absorbed; the sound waves bounce off the resistant substance and create an echo. When the Midrash says that the voice of Sinai had no echo, it indicates that the physical world did not resist the voice. Every aspect of the creation absorbed and internalized the word of G-d. 

Like every part of Torah this, too, is a message for our life. The Torah we study is not relegated to an abstract idea or thought-provoking belief system. The Torah permeates each and every part of our life, and infuses it with holiness. That is why the Ten Commandments address not only abstract belief systems: belief in one G-d, rejection of idolatry, and commemorating the Shabbat, but also mundane life: honor your parents, treat human life with dignity, and respect other people's property. The Ten Commandments cover the full gamut of The human experience, from the abstract to the practical, because the Torah has no echo; it permeates every part of our lives.

Where Do You Get Your Oil?

The Torah seems to spend a lot of time discussing the lands that the Jewish people conquered and settled east of the Jordan River, outside the borders of the original land of Israel. 

One of the cities mentioned in this week’s Parsha, Argov, or, as the Mishnah refers to it, Regev, was a city known for the quality of its oil, which was the second best in all the land of Israel. As the Mishnah tells us: 

Tekoa was the primary source of olive oil (for use in the Temple. The oil obtained from the city of Tekoa was the first grade and choicest among oils). Abba Shaul says, ‘Second best to Tekoa was Regev on the east bank of the Jordan River. (Mishnah, Menachot 8:3)

Like every word, law, and episode in the Torah, the discussion about the location of the choicest oil for the temple has a deeper spiritual meaning as well. 

Oil represents wisdom, enlightenment, and humility; the ability to put one’s ego, perspective, and limitations of self aside, in order to connect and be absorbed in something greater than self. The first opinion of the Mishnah implies that the oil for the temple, the ultimate state of negation of self and absorption within the holiness of G-d, can come only from the land of Israel, the land chosen and sanctified by G-d Himself. Only an extraordinary holiness can overwhelm the sense of self and pull the person into a greater spiritual experience and perspective. 

Abba Shaul disagrees.

True, Tekoa, in the land of Israel, is the “primary source of olive oil”, yet there is a “Second best to Tekoa”. The lands east of the Jordan, which were added to the land of Israel by the initiation, effort, and actions of the Jewish people, represent “man-made” holiness. This spiritual enlightenment and perspective is one that a person can create through their own effort and meditation. Abba Shaul teaches that the self-transcendence that a person can create through their own effort is “second to”, and therefore in the same category as, the holiness and inspiration that G-d created from above. 

The first opinion of the Mishnah teaches that the “oil” is accessible only through an extraordinary experience. Abba Shaul teaches that one can generate extraordinary inspiration within the ordinary experience. 

Perhaps this explains the fascination of the Torah with the lands east of Jordan. While a more intense and loftier holiness is available in Israel, the lands east of the Jordan represent a greater novelty, the ability to create holiness through human effort and enterprise. The lands east of the Jordan represent the ability of the Jewish people to generate holiness, not only in the land of Israel but in every part of the earth.

Adopted from the teachings of the Rebbe, Likkutei Sichos Devarim 24:3