Editor's Note:
Dear Friend,
Winter has made its appearance in this part of the world. My office window frames a breathtaking landscape of falling snowflakes, pounding rain, and tiny hailstones that ping sharply as they land.
This week’s Torah portion describes another hailstorm, which occurred in Egypt as the seventh of the Ten Plagues: “The L‑rd gave forth thunder...And there was hail, and fire flaming within the hail…”
Fire and hail cannot normally co-exist; their intrinsic natures are at odds. Ice (water) seeks to extinguish fire, and fire attempts to melt ice. Yet in this instance, our sages teach us, “to perform the will of their Maker, they made peace.”
What I find fascinating in this account is that the fire and ice each maintained their individuality; they didn’t lose their identities as they rose above their differences for the sake of a higher cause. Ice remained ice and fire remained fire.
No two snowflakes are alike, and the same is true of each of G‑d’s creations. There is immeasurable beauty in our uniquenesses, the specific characteristics that make us who we are.
Let’s dedicate our unique talents and capabilities to making the world a better place, working together so that the darkness of winter shines.
Rochel Chein
on behalf of the Chabad.org Editorial Team
Va’eira
To Love
To love is to sigh at another’s sorrow, to rejoice at another’s good fortune.
To love is the deepest of all pleasures.
Your Questions
Is Psychoanalysis Kosher?
By Tzvi Freeman
There are similarities between the Freudian model of the human psyche and that describedby the Chassidic masters. But there’s a major difference.
What Is an Eruv? And How Does It Work?
By Yehuda Shurpin
How can a few barely-visible wires make a difference?
On the Calendar
The Numerology of the Alter Rebbe, Sarah, and Esther
Adapted from the works of Rabbi Levi Yitzchak Schneerson
A mystical teaching for 24 Tevet.
Toil of the Mind and Heart
By Eli Rubin
Diachronic perspectives on the leadership and oral teachings of Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi
Marking the Yahrtzeit of the Alter Rebbe, Founder of Chabad
The life, teachings and works of Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, founder of Chabad.
Women
Trying to Stand Steady After a Childhood Adrift
By Liat Levy
I found myself in a murky world, sailing around and around and around in excruciating circles. There was often no seashore in sight.
Tips for Feeding Picky Eaters
By Aliza Neveloff
I researched finicky eaters and develop an effective method for exposing my young charge to new foods.
How I Graduated From an Ivy League School and Changed the World
By Elana Mizrahi
As I received my diploma, many people were looking at me with either envy, admiration, or a mixture of both.
Parshah
Spirits in a Material World
By Rabbi Jonathan Sacks
Money speaks to our Adam needs, but meaning speaks to our Abraham needs.
Story
What Am I Doing Here?
By Marcy Horowitz
What accident of fate made me part of the Ruderman Chabad Inclusion Initiative, a group committed to inclusion for people with disabilities at every level of Chabad life?
Give Me the Shivers
By Yerachmiel Tilles
“If my days are numbered, at least I will see the rebbe before I die.”
Lifestyle
Cookbook Review, Amazing New Recipes & Free Giveaway
By Miriam Szokovski
Jewish News
Governor of Stalinist ‘Jewish Homeland’ Gets a Bar Mitzvah
By Chabad.org Staff
The newly appointed governor of a storied Stalin-era "Jewish” oblast in the Russian Far East took part in an unexpected celebration in Moscow after he put on tefillin for the first time.
As Cleveland Jews Migrate West, a Community Is Born
By Mindy Rubenstein
Young couple finds a niche and a need in a small section of a big city
Israeli Police Continue Hunt for Tel Aviv Terror Shooter
By Yaakov Ort
Officials urge caution while suspect who killed two in Friday attack remains at large.
Chabad.org Magazine - Editor: Yanki Tauber
© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.---------------------
This Week's Features:
Printable Magazine
The Fascinating Life and Works of the Founder of Chabad (Yahrtzeit: Tuesday)
Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi (1745–1812)
Founder of Chabad
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mystic, a communal activist, a philosopher, a halachic authority, a composer, a talmudist—Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi was all of these. But he was primarily a spiritual guide, who created a practical path that allows anyone to approach divinity. Rabbi Schneur Zalman lived in an era of change and unrest on a global scale. Yet his life continues to inspire, and his works and teachings have long withstood the test of time.
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VIDEO
Why You Need to Say 'Thank You'
What G-d, Moses, and his own late wife for lessons taught this rabbi about gratitude. by Yacov Barber
Watch (8:59)
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What Is the Secret of Chabad?
Six big transformational ideas from the Rebbe that revolutionized the Jewish world.
By David Eliezrie
Watch (34:15)
<script language="javascript" type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.chabad.org/multimedia/mediaplayer/embedded/embed.js.asp?aid=3169946&width=auto&height=auto"></script><span style="clear:both;" class="lb" id="lbdiv">Visit <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish.TV</a> for more <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish videos</a>.</span>
The Unvarnished Truth Behind the Red String and the Evil Eye
Are these merely old superstitions, or legitimate concerns?
By Avraham Plotkin
Watch (41:45)<script language="javascript" type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.chabad.org/multimedia/mediaplayer/embedded/embed.js.asp?aid=3168126&width=auto&height=auto"></script><span style="clear:both;" class="lb" id="lbdiv">Visit <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish.TV</a> for more <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish videos</a>.</span>
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Your Questions
Is Psychoanalysis Kosher?
By Tzvi Freeman
Question:
What is the traditional Jewish view on psychoanalysis? I’m particularly interested in the purported parallels between Freudian and Chabad philosophy.
Answer:
There have been many views expressed, ranging from enthusiastic embrace to unconditional condemnation. What follows is based on the Lubavitcher Rebbe’s letters on the topic.
The Rebbe writes that psychoanalysis has helped people, but since Freud and his colleagues saw religion as something of an illness in itself, we must be careful in choosing the doctor to go to. You may have heard of Dr. Viktor Frankl, who wrote Man’s Search for Meaning. The basis of Frankl’s theory was that the primary motivation of an individual is the search for meaning in life, and that the primary purpose of psychotherapy should be to help the individual find that meaning. The Rebbe supports Frankl’s views over Freud’s, and bemoans the fact that the majority of psychotherapists have not followed in this path.
In other letters, the Rebbe agrees that there are many similarities between the Freudian model of the human psyche and that described by Rabbi Schneur Zalman in his highly original yet traditional classic work, theTanya. The first book of the Tanya provides spiritual guidance, often describing intimately the inner workings of the human soul. All of this is based firmly on the Talmud and other rabbinic writings-such as the works of Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon (Maimonides), Rabbi Yehuda Lowe of Prague (Maharal), Rabbi Yitzchak Luria (Ari), Rabbi Yeshayah Horowitz (Shaloh), and of course the oral teachings of the Baal Shem Tov and the Maggid of Mezeritch. Nevertheless, it stands out as the first literature to describe in detail the multiple facets and layers of the human personality and how they often conflict with one another, along with practical applications for overcoming depression, anxiety, feelings of inadequacy and more.
Furthermore, ethical literature beforehand had taken a generally behavioral approach: Do this, don’t do that. Be like this, avoid being like that. If you don’t, you’ll be sorry. Schneur Zalman’s approach, which became known as “Chabad,” is that our emotions and behavior are symptoms of what is happening with our mind. You can’t direct the heart directly, he wrote, and even behavior is not truly changed by offering reward and threatening punishment. Rather, all true change must be affected by working with the entire person, beginning with the inner mind.
This was also Freud’s achievement, when he demonstrated that much illness can be traced to mental disorder. Freud also pioneered the concept of a multi-layered consciousness, with multiple forces pulling in different directions. The very words he used—ego (ich), superego and id—are strikingly similar to the G‑dly soul, animal soul and person (guf) discussed in Tanya. Many other similarities could be discussed.
Several authors have dealt with the Jewish roots of Freud’s ideas. Some even point to his fascination with the Kabbalah and his talks with Rabbi Shalom DovBer, the fifth rebbe of Chabad-Lubavitch. Others assert that most of what he theorized can easily be traced to common Jewish folk knowledge.
However, where Freud sees the underlying force within man as his sexual drive, the Tanya sees it as his G‑dly soul. That’s a major difference with serious impact.
Furthermore, while Freud could prescribe therapy only through the intervention of an objective practitioner, Rabbi Schneur Zalman set down a clear path for the common man to work through on his own. We are all in control of our minds, he writes, to think about whatever we wish to think about. And then he lays out a prescription to develop a mindset that brings out the most essential and divine qualities of the heart. Of course, the guidance and assistance of the tzaddik is vital to the process, but the principal work, Rabbi Schneur Zalman stressed, lies on the shoulders of the individual wishing to improve.
Of course, Tanya was not meant as a remedy for psychosis. It was written for the common person who needs guidance in overcoming obstacles on his spiritual path. But the basics are all there, ready to be applied.
Rabbi Tzvi Freeman, a senior editor at Chabad.org, also heads our Ask The Rabbi team. He is the author of Bringing Heaven Down to Earth. To subscribe to regular updates of Rabbi Freeman's writing, visitFreeman Files subscription.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.
© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
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Your Questions
What Is an Eruv? And How Does It Work?
By Yehuda Shurpin
I recently read an article about how a Jewish community wants to create an eruv, a network of strings that will allow them to carry on Shabbat in an entire neighborhood. It was briefly described as a “legal loophole” constructed by the rabbis of the Talmud.
I’m confused. If the Torah says that carrying outside is forbidden on Shabbat, how can a few barely-visible wires make a difference?
Reply
Your question is a good one—and an old one. Almost 900 years ago, the great medieval philosopher and poet, Rabbi Judah Halevi (1080-1141), wrote about an exchange between a Jewish sage and a king, who asked the same question.1
Before we can understand why an eruv is not a loophole in a law prohibiting carrying, let’s first understand why and where carrying is forbidden in the first place.
The Prohibition
On Shabbat, one of the 39 forbidden activities is to carry anything four cubits (approximately six feet) within a public domain. This also includes transporting things from a private domain into a public one or vice versa.2 In this context, “private” and “public” has little to do with who holds the deed and everything to do with the physical properties and function of the area.
A “private domain” is an enclosed area. A “public domain” is generally defined as an unenclosed major thoroughfare that is used regularly by the public,and is at least 16 cubits wide (about 24 feet). Some are of the opinion that it also needs to have 600,000 people passing through it on a daily basis.3
Now, if it would be permitted to carry in open areas that are shared by many people but are not public domains per se, confusion would be likely to follow. So to err on the side of caution, the rabbis expanded the carrying ban to extend to any area, unless it is both fenced in and owned privately. This rabbinic law provides a clear-cut distinction that avoids confusion and prevents violation of Torah law. This pseudo-public area is called a karmelit.4
The Exceptions
In order for carrying to be allowed, you'll need both an eruv and a tzurat hapetach. The word eruv (which we will explain later) actually refers to food that serves to symbolically transform the shared area into an area owned by a single household. The tzurat hapetach is a series of structures that transform the area into closed area. Together, the two mark the area as private. Although not technically correct, the term eruv has come to refer to the tzurat hapetach structure as well. The eruv is often large enough to include entire neighborhoods with homes, apartments and synagogues, making it possible to carry on Shabbat, since one is never leaving the private domain.
But what kind of enclosure do you need?
If the area contains a proper public domain (as defined above), then it needs to be surrounded by real walls or natural barriers. For a rabbinically ordained karmelit, under which category many neighborhoods fall, a technical enclosure may suffice.5
In that case, the wall may have many doorways, leaving large open spaces. Essentially, this is the kind of “wall” we are creating with wires and poles; the poles are the doorposts, and the cables strung above them are the lintels.
In addition to providing Jewish people with more freedom to enjoy their Shabbat, Rabbi Judah Halevi explains that the relatively simple route to privatizing a karmelit is deliberate, in order that a distinction be made between the the rabbinic enactment and the biblical prohibition of carrying in a proper public domain.6
The Real Eruv
But walls alone are not enough. In order for an area to be private, it needs to belong to a single household or entity.
This stipulation originated from King Solomon, who foresaw that if people were allowed to carry in public, albeit enclosed areas, this would result in confusion, and the entire law would be forgotten or distorted. Indeed, the Talmud records that after King Solomon made this enactment, a divine voice from heaven proclaimed the profound wisdom of this enactment.7
In order to symbolically join multiple families into a single household, King Solomon and his court established the concept of eruvei chatzairot, whereby everyone in the area contributes food (or, as is usually done, one person can gift the food for everyone) to be kept in one of the houses. Since they all share food, they are now one household. The word eruv means “blending,” as the purpose of this food is to mix the entire community together into one.8
Don’t Try This at Home
It is important to keep in mind that the construction of an eruv is one of the more complex areas of Jewish law. Just because a particular area is enclosed by poles and wires does not necessarily allow carrying within that area. Many poles and strings do not qualify as doorways, and many areas are bona fide public domains and cannot be included in an eruv. Therefore, it is of utmost importance that an expert rabbi oversee the construction of a municipal eruv.
Among all the other technical details of the construction that the rabbi will need to work out, he will also ascertain whether the area in question is a karmelit. Such an eruv is not only not a loophole, it is part and parcel of the original rabbinic enactment.
Note:
1) An eruv only allows one to carry items which are permitted to be used on Shabbat and are are actually needed on Shabbat.
2) According to many authorities, it is not possible to create kosher eruv for many urban areas, even if there are fewer than 600,00 that walk the streets. Generally speaking, enclosures that surround entire cities rely on many lenient halachic opinions that are not accepted by all. Halachah encourages a devout Jew to be cautious about this.
3) The Lubavitcher Rebbe--Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory--taught that an eruv should only be built in a community where the local rabbis feel that it would enhance the careful observance of Shabbat, rather than cause people to be more lax. He also cautioned that an eruv should not enclose an entire city, so that people will know that there are places where it is forbidden to carry. Conversely, if carrying would be permitted in the entire city, people will grow accustomed to carrying on Shabbat and continue to do so even where there is no eruv.
Rabbi Yehuda Shurpin responds to questions for Chabad.org's Ask the Rabbi service.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.
FOOTNOTES
1. Kuzari 3:50.
2. See Shulchan Aruch, Orech Chaim 346:1.
3. Shulchan Aruch, Orech Chaim 345:7.
4. Shulchan Aruch, Orech Chaim 345:14.
5. See Shulchan Aruch, Orech Chaim 364:2 and Shulchan Aruch Harav 364:4.
6. See Kuzari 3:51.
7. Talmud, Shabbat 14b.
8. It should be noted that the procedure of eruv chatzairot is only effective for Jews who believe in the efficacy of an eruv. Therefore, in order to carry in any joint private domain, one must rent the area from all non-Jews and non-believing Jews who reside in the private domain. This can, however, be done through a top local government official such as the mayor or county executive (how exactly this all works is beyond the scope of this article). See Shulchan Aruch, Orech Chaim 382:1, 385:1-4; see also Shulchan Aruch Harav, Orech Chaim 382:1, 385:1-4.
© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
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On the Calendar
The Numerology of the Alter Rebbe, Sarah, and Esther Adapted from the works of Rabbi Levi Yitzchak Schneerson
The 24th of Tevet marks the anniversary of the passing of Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, the founder of Chabad. On this day it is customary to gather for farbrengens, informal chassidic gatherings where Torah thoughts, inspiration and stirring melodies are shared around a festive table.
Rabbi Levi Yitzchak Schneerson—who was a direct descendant of Rabbi Schneur Zalman—wrote extensively about the greatness of his illustrious ancestor, and pointed out how the details of various aspects of his life were in tune with the teachings of the Kabbalah. While the full teaching is beyond the scope of this article, let’s focus on Rabbi Levi Yitzchak’s understanding of the name Schneur Zalman.
The name Schneur (שניאור) contains within it two Hebrew words, שני (two) and אור (light): “two lights.” This is a most appropriate name for a man whose life mission was to teach others the two illuminations of the Torah: the revealed portion of Torah, which is embodied in his Code of Jewish Law; and the hidden Kabbalah, which he espoused in his many chassidic teachings.
Taking it a step further, אור (light) has the numeric value of 207. Adding together “two lights” (207+207) brings us to a total of 414, the numerical value of ואהבת (“and you shall love”).
Indeed, Rabbi Schneur Zalman devoted his life to helping people live the values of “And you shall love the L‑rd your G‑d” and “And you shall love your fellow like yourself,” as well as a love for the Torah and a love for the Land of Israel, which he actively supported through the Colel Chabad charity he led.
Interestingly, Abraham our forefather was also associated with these same qualities of love and light. Isaiah, speaking in G‑d’s name, refers to him as “Abraham, My lover,” and the Midrash tells us how he brought light to the world, saying, “Until Abraham, the world functioned in darkness; Abraham came and began to shed light.”
If the two lights of Schneur are associated with Abraham, then the name Zalman must connect with Sarah, his wife.
Sarah is the only woman in the entire Torah whose age is recorded: 127 years, a number that the Kabbalists explain denotes perfection and achievement. And you guessed it: Zalman (זלמן) has the numerical value of 127.
Now, the 127 years of Sarah’s life were not all identical. There were the first 90 years before G‑d blessed her with a child, and then there were the last 37 years, when she raised her son Isaac, fulfilling her essential role as a mother of our people.
The name Zalman (זלמן) can be divided neatly into these two halves: זל=37, and מן=90.
One last facet:
The 127 years of Sarah came into play a thousand years later, when Ahasuerus, who eventually married Esther, ruled over 127 countries. Why 127? The Midrash fills us in:
Why did Esther merit to rule over 127 countries? Said G‑d: “Let Esther, the descendant of Sarah who lived 127 years, come and rule over 127 lands.”1
Concerning Esther, the Megillah tells us that she was taken to the king’s palace to be queen in the month of Tevet. Quite appropriately, Rabbi Schneur Zalman (whose connection to Esther is expressed in the number 127) was taken to G‑d’s supernal palace on the 24th of Tevet.
Rabbi Levi Yitzchak Schneerson (1878–1944) was a mystic and scholar who wrote commentaries on the most esoteric texts. As rabbi of a major Ukrainian city, he struggled valiantly to strengthen Judaism, in spite of Soviet persecution.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.
FOOTNOTES
1. Esther Rabbah 1:8.
© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
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On the Calendar
Toil of the Mind and Heart
By Eli Rubin
This article was originally published on the Seforim Blog in memory of the acclaimed Chabad scholar Rabbi Yehoshua Mondshine, marking the first anniversary of his passing.1
Abstract: A new anthology mines the oral teachings of Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi for new insight into the historical development of his leadership and the crystallization of his ideology, and also charts the impact of Rabbi Shlomo of Karlin and Rabbi Avraham of Kalisk on the emergence of Chabad as a distinct Chassidic movement. “HaRav: On the Tanya, Chabad thought, the path, leadership and disciples of Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi” ed. Rabbi Nochum Grunwald, Hebrew, 798 pp. (Mechon HaRav, 2015).
Introduction - From Liozna to Liadi
The past few years have seen many new publications shedding light on the life and times of Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, founder of the Chabad school of Chassidism, and making his teachings more accessible.2For the most part, however, the historical and the ideological domains have been treated in relative isolation from one another. Moreover, while R. Schneur Zalman’s magnum opus, Tanya, has been a frequent object of study, less work has been done on the vast corpus of his oral teachings, transcriptions of which now fill some thirty published volumes.3
HaRav: On the Tanya, Chabad thought, the path, leadership and disciples of Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, appeared just a few months ago as a rather belated marker of the 200th year since Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s passing on the 24th of Tevet 5772 (January 1813),4 and comprises a collection of articles, teachings and commentary, on the topics referred to in the volume's subtitle. Rabbi Nochum Grunwald, the volume's editor and primary contributor, is a leading Chabad thinker and historian, and the editor of the Heichal HaBesht journal. Other contributors include Chabad scholars Rabbi DovBer Levine, Rabbi Eliyahu Matusof, Rabbi Aharon Chitrik, and le-havdil bein chaim le-chaim, the late Rabbi Yehoshua Mondshine.
Of the volume’s six sections, it is the third—Shaar Ha-Maamarim, focusing on R. Schneur Zalman’s oral teachings—that is the most substantial, in terms of both quantity and content. In a loose series of articles, the volume’s editor, Rabbi Nochum Grunwald, takes several important steps towards the integration of the ideological content of these discourses within a broader historiographical context, giving particular attention to Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s relationship with Rabbi Avraham of Kalisk.
An article by Rabbi Shalom DovBer Levine—in the volume’s penultimate section—traces the impact of Rabbi Shlomo of Karlin on Chabad’s emergence as a distinct school of Chassidism, adding additional dimension to the developing picture.5
Grunwald’s overarching thesis pivots on Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s move from Liozna (90km North-West of Smolensk) to Liadi (Lyady, 70km southwest of Smolensk), shortly after being released from his second internment in Petersburg in the summer of 1801.6 The precise reasons for this move remain unclear, but the distinction between the Liozna and Liadi periods—also referred to as the periods “before Petersburg” and “after Petersburg”—appears in a variety of Chabad historiographic traditions to mark an array of changes in his role as a leader and teacher of Chassidism. As one source has it, “when he dwelt in Liozna the quality of emotion toward G‑d radiated from him, whereas afterwards, when he dwelt in Liadi, it was not so; there the quality of intellect radiated from him.”7
Grunwald’s discussion of how this shift developed is complicated by Levine’s account. And though their parallel theses are both presented in the present volume, it remains the task of the reader to integrate them.
Transcendence and Interiority
In a 1903 talk delivered by Rabbi Shalom DovBer Schneersohn (Rashab), the fifth rebbe of Chabad-Lubavitch, he distinguished between the type of teaching that entirely transcends [מקיף] the students/listeners, but overwhelms, encompasses and transforms them instantaneously, and between the type of teaching that is directed to the interiority [פנימיות] of the students/listeners, to permeate their intellects, so that they can then transform themselves from within:
Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s preoccupation with this challenge is clear from Tanya, which began circulating in the early 1790s and was published in 1796. This work, as described in the author’s introduction, is comprised of “answers to many questions, asked in search of counsel… in the service of G‑d.”12 As Grunwald notes, Tanya is a systematic presentation of the solutions and advice that its author provided in private audiences (yechidut) on an individualized and more immediate basis. “During this period,” Grunwald concludes, “the distinction between private audiences and the oral delivery of Torah was almost non-existent.”13
The purpose of the oral teachings during the earlier period, accordingly, was to directly inspire religious transformation by providing practical direction and immediately applicable solutions. They therefore do not digress into involved discussion of complex theoretical questions and abstractions,14 nor do they linger on the stylistic niceties of orderly progression.15 Instead they drive directly to the point, emphasizing it with sharp language16 and vivid imagery,17 and uncompromisingly demanding utter submission to the exclusive reality of divine being (“ain od milvado”). In the earlier period, Grunwald notes, such Chassidic exhortations “are not complicated by a mantle of explanation or justification, but are [delivered] straight… penetrating the gut.”18
In the later period, conversely, Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s oral teachings were often devoted to the theoretical explanation of a particular concept or issue, or to several related concepts. Here we find detailed and orderly expositions on the nature and purpose of the Torah and the mitzvot generally, or of particular mitzvot and festivals, as well as on complex Kabbalistic ideas. “In the extant discourses [from before Petersburg],” Grunwald writes, “it is almost impossible to find a delivery that is dedicated entirely to the clarification of an aspect of the cosmic chain of being [seder hishtalshalut], in order for it to be understood in depth and in conceptualized form. As a case in point, after Petersburg Rabbi Schneur Zalman delivered a discourse on the topic of ohr ain sof and tzimtzum nearly every year… but before Petersburg we don’t find anything like this at all.”19
Grunwald acknowledges that this distinction is a generalization, that in each period one can find anomalies, and that there is far more to say about the development of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s oral teachings with the passing years. But the distinct and rather rapid change in emphasis is clear enough to demand a broader historiographical explanation. The question is sharpened when we consider that the second part of Tanya,Shaar Ha-yichud Ve-he-emunah, which was circulated and published during the earlier period, does provide a systematic and thorough account of the unity and singularity of divine being, vis-à-vis the created realms. The orderly conceptualization and contemplation of esoteric concepts was already then a fundamental element of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s approach to the service of G‑d.20 (So fundamental, in fact, that—as discussed elsewhere in the present volume—Rabbi Schneur Zalman originally intended Shaar Ha-Yichud to be the first section of Tanya, rather than the second.21) Why then do we not find more of this kind of material in the oral teachings dating from this era?
The Making of a Tzaddik22
Conventionally, the onset of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s leadership—and the establishment of Chabad as a distinct school of Chassidic thought and practice—is dated to 1783, when he settled in Liozna, or to 1786, when Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Vitebsk and Rabbi Avraham of Kalisk wrote from the Holy Land prevailing upon him “to draw close the hearts of the faithful of Israel, to teach them understanding and knowledge of G‑d.”23 Grunwald, however, argues that throughout the Liozna period Rabbi Schneur Zalman continued to see himself—not as an independent leader of a Chassidic community, nor as a tzaddik in his own right, but rather—as a personal mentor and guide acting as the appointed representative of the Chassidic leaders in the Holy Land.24
One source that Grunwald would have done well to cite to strengthen and crystalize this nuanced conception of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s role is a 1786 letter by Rabbi Avraham responding to the complaint of the Chassidic community in the region of Lithuania and Belarus—which, along with Rabbi Menachem Mendel, he continued to lead from afar—that they were unable to hear Torah directly from the mouths of the tzaddikim in the Holy Land. Rabbi Avraham instructs them to focus less on their desire to hear new wisdom, and more on the practicalities of action:
If only you would place action before hearing, and our sages already said (Avot, Chapter 3) “Anyone whose wisdom is more than their actions etc. [their wisdom will not hold.]” And in my opinion it is tried and tested that too much wisdom is detrimental to action… Commit your eyes and heart to one thing of Chassidic teachings that you have heard, and strengthen it with nails that it should be imprinted and dug into your heart… and due to this you climb and ascend… to exile materiality bit by bit…
And as for action you have a master, our honored friend and beloved, the beloved of G‑d, precious light… our teacher the rabbi, Shneur Zalman… filled with the glory of G‑d, with spirit, wisdom, understanding and knowledge to show you the path…25
Strikingly, Rabbi Avraham encouraged the Chassidic community to turn to Rabbi Schneur Zalman only as a master of “action,” as one who can guide them along the methodological “path” of practical service, but not as an independent tzaddik from whom to “hear” new wisdom.26 More than a decade later Rabbi Avraham’s opinion “that too much wisdom is detrimental to action” would become a cause of contention between him and Rabbi Schneur Zalman.27 Yet, even following the passing of Rabbi Menachem Mendel in 1788, and even as the crowds seeking Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s counsel turned Liozna into a bustling Chassidic court, the latter continued to restrict his instruction to the practicalities of actual service of G‑d. In his introduction to Tanya too, in the same breath that he emphasizes that its content consists entirely of “answers to many questions, asked in search of advice… in the service of G‑d” he continues to emphasize his deference and debt to “our masters in the Holy Land.”28
But not all Chassidim in the region were so eager to accept Rabbi Schneur Zalman as their mentor. A strong contingent looked for guidance and inspiration to his contemporary, Rabbi Shlomo of Karlin, who emphasized ecstatic faith and the centrality of the tzaddik, and was famed as a seer and wonderworker. As documented by Levine—following the earlier work of Rabbi Avraham Abish Shor—Karliner loyalists persistently lobbied the tzaddikim in the Holy Land to appoint Rabbi Shlomo in Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s place, or to allow them to travel to visit him in Ludmir, Galicia, where he settled circa 1786. Such agitation was consistently rebuffed, but never entirely quelled.29 Rabbi Shlomo was shot by marauding Cossacks in 1792, and the Karlin legacy was continued by Rabbi Asher of Stolin and Rabbi Mordechai of Lechevitch.30Despite the relative peace that reigned during this period, Rabbi Avraham continued to exhort the Chassidim to seek counsel from Rabbi Schneur Zalman alone into the early months of 1797, when he had apparently not yet seen the recently published Tanya.31
The period from 1788 to 1797 is described by Grunwald as an intermediate one, in which Rabbi Schneur Zalman came to ever increasing prominence and also crystallized the distinctly systematic approach to the service of G‑d presented and published in Tanya. Neither by restricting himself to topics directly related to practical worship, nor by describing himself as a “compiler” (melaket) of a “collection of sayings”—rather than as the author of an independent work of Chassidic thought and instruction—was he able to mask the originality of his approach. No reader of the Tanya can evade the primacy given to intellectual contemplation, to toil of the mind, as the fundamental basis of heartfelt service and actual practice, a primacy that is further underscored by the discussion of divine unity in Shaar Ha-yichud Ve-ha-emunah.32
As Levine explains, the crystallization of this systematic methodology to the point of publication was seized by Karliner loyalists as an opportunity to press their case before Rabbi Avraham of Kalisk, eliciting his sharp critique of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s path in a series of letters penned between the latter part of 1797 and the summer of 1798.33 Paradoxically, it was precisely this critique that led to Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s emergence as a Chassidic leader of a different stripe, and ultimately as an autonomous tzaddik in the fullest sense of the term.
In Grunwald’s words:
Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s two great confrontations, with Rabbi Avraham on the doctrine of Chabad, and with the Lithuanian Mitnagdim on the doctrine of Chassidism, transpired and erupted at approximately the same time. The period from 1798 [when he was first arrested and taken to Petersburg on Mitnagdic charges of treason] until after the second imprisonment marked the birth pangs that brought forth the shining era of the Chabad doctrine and Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s leadership… It is due to this [difficult] period that we merited the doctrine of Chabad in all its greatness and depth.34
According to Grunwald the distinction between the Liozna and Liadi periods is far greater than has previously been understood. Much has been made of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s unwillingness to deal with the worldly concerns (mili de’alma) of his constituents, and of the rules he imposed to regulate the throngs who traveled to Liozna to meet with him and receive spiritual guidance in person (takonat liozna).35 But according to Grunwald the documentary record attests that these kinds of restrictions were only imposed during the Liozna period, when Rabbi Schneur Zalman insisted that his role was only that of a spiritual guide.36 In the Liadi period, when he no longer acted as a personal mentor and took on the full responsibility of autonomous leadership, he no longer protested against those who came to him with their worldly concerns, and imposed no regulations on those who wished to come and hear Torah from his lips.37
The focus of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s leadership now shifted from the personal to the public, from direct inspiration and methodological instruction, to the coherent formulation, explanation and dissemination of a theoretical edifice accessible enough to be studied, assimilated and acted upon by every aspiring Chassid. It was only after Petersburg that Rabbi Schneur Zalman began delivering oral teachings each and every week, and often several times in a single week. It was in the later period too that new emphasis was placed on the systematic transcription of these teachings not only by Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s brother, Rabbi Yehudah Leib, but also by the former’s sons Rabbi DovBer (the Mitteler Rebbe) and Rabbi Moshe, his grandson Rabbi Menachem Mendel (the Tzemach Tzedek), as well as by noted Chassidim such as Rabbi Pinchas Reitzes. These teachings were not simply instructive or inspirational, each was a new window onto the transcendent philosophy of Chabad, to be carefully preserved, reviewed, studied, assimilated and applied, transforming the Chassid from within.38
Cerebral Love
According to Grunwald, the theoretical emphasis that emerged in the Liadi period also constituted a substantial shift in Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s approach to prayer, and, more broadly, to the service of G‑d with love and awe.39
In Tanya, Chapter 16, Rabbi Schneur Zalman distinguishes between love that is revealed openly in one’s heart, “so that one’s heart burns like flaming fire, and desires with heartfelt fervor, longing and yearning,” and love “that is hidden in the mind and concealed in the heart.” Both are the product of mindful contemplation of the greatness of G‑d’s infinitude. Both provide the impetus to bind oneself to G‑d through the Torah and its commandments. But the former bursts forth as an emotive outpouring of love (hitgalut ha-lev), while the latter remains “enclosed in the mind and the concealment of the heart” (mesuteret be-mocho ve’taalumat libo). Rabbi Schneur Zalman establishes it as “a fundamental rule in the service of ordinary people (beinonim)” that though open love is apparently more ideal, mere mindful animation is “also” acceptable impetus for Torah study and mitzvah performance “since it is this understanding in one’s mind and the concealment of one’s heart that brings you to toil in them.”
In a later teaching Rabbi Schneur Zalman specifically refers to this passage in Tanya, but argues that a more cerebral experience of love is actually preferable, rather than merely acceptable. For one thing, emotional experience is fleeting while cerebral animation achieves a permanently effective transformation. For another, an open experience of ecstatic love may itself be so spiritually satisfying that one will no longer seek to bind oneself to G‑d through actual Torah study and practice of the commandments.40
Though the text in question bears no date, Grunwald devotes an entire article to a survey of several similar examples, each of which date from the period following the second imprisonment specifically. Yet Grunwald fails to note a fundamental distinction between these two texts: Tanya speaks of an individual whose “intellect and spirit of understanding is insufficient” and consequently suffers from emotional indifference. But the oral teaching he cites clearly addresses an individual who possesses the intellectual and spiritual capacity to experience open love, but is enjoined to use the intellect to exercise emotional discipline in order to cultivate a more pervading experience of submissive subjugation (bitul) before G‑d.41
Contrary to Grunwald’s suggestion, this later text does not present a complete reversal of priorities when compared to Tanya.42 It instead introduces a loftier form of service, through which toil of the heart is further refined rather than abandoned. As Grunwald explains elsewhere, emotional enthusiasm—even when directed towards G‑d—is essentially a form of self-expression and self-affirmation, whereas the Chabad ideal is to internalize the recognition that nothing exists other than G‑d.43 Ecstatic experience can accordingly be counterproductive, and as already mentioned, may well remain limited to the realm of emotion. A loftier—and more thoroughly transformative—mode of worship uses the mind to exercise emotional self-discipline, subduing self-expression and subjecting the entirety of one’s being to the mindful apprehension of divinity and the practical service of G‑d.44
The distinctions are perhaps not as sharp as Grunwald portrays them, but the shift is certainly a real one. In the earlier period Rabbi Schneur Zalman instructed his disciples to use their intellectual capacities to inspire emotional expression and exuberance (as reflected in Tanya). In the later period he taught them to cultivate a more contained and constant form of internal animation, channeling mindful enthusiasm directly into the practical service of G‑d—Torah study and mitzvah performance—rather than allowing it to overflow into the heart unbridled.45
A related point, addressed in a different article, is the debate between Rabbi Schneur Zalman and Rabbi Avraham of Kalisk on the complex relationship between faith and knowledge. In 1805 the former delivered a series of discourses on the topic, elicited by the latter’s renewed critique, and Grunwald’s rich treatment of the sources further underscores the centrality of such theoretical issues in Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s later teachings.46
As we have seen, the transition between the Liozna and Liadi periods was rooted in the parting of ways that transpired between Rabbi Schneur Zalman and Rabbi Avraham. One result of this transition—Grunwald further argues—was the subsequent parting of ways between Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s oldest son, Rabbi DovBer of Lubavitch, and his foremost disciple, Rabbi Aharon of Strashelye. As has been most extensively described by Naftali Loewenthal, these two personalities clashed precisely over the question of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s approach to emotional enthusiasm, particularly during prayer.47 Rabbi Aharon first came to Liozna at the age of 17, shortly after Rabbi Schneur Zalman settled there in 1783. Rabbi DovBer would have been less than ten years old at the time, and he did not begin transcribing his father's teachings until 1798—that is, at the very end of the Liozna period. Grunwald accordingly asserts that the eras in which they each matured as students of Rabbi Schneur Zalman can be broadly distinguished along the lines of their later disagreement.48 While this claim rings true, it is complicated by the facts that Rabbi Aharon and Rabbi DovBer were close associates for many years, and that by 1798 the later would already have been 25 years old.49
Grunwald enriches his analysis of the relevant transcripts with several recollections and comments of the Tzemach Tzedek.50 One example is a note in the latter’s own hand, appended to a teaching in which Rabbi Schneur Zalman categorically rejects any emotionalism, preferring the cerebral approach “even if it is only superficial and somatic… with very brief contemplation, and coldness…” The Tzemach Tzedek recalls that this extreme formulation was directed towards a particular individual whose enthusiastic conduct needed to be reined in, and was not necessarily intended to be applied more generally. More applicable is the general thrust of this teaching, which gives ultimate primacy to “the quality and substance of internal subjugation (bitul) in the mind and heart, in the aspect of prostration… without any detectable movement.”51Another source records that seeing the Tzemach Tzedek’s note, one of his grandsons asked him if the specific individual referred to was Rabbi Aharon of Strashelye: “And his grandfather answered him… G‑d forbid! I was not thinking of him, for he experienced G‑dly enthusiasm…”52 Grunwald relates this remark to a distinction drawn by Rabbi Schneur Zalman himself between the worship of an ordinary individual and that of a tzaddik, who is not susceptible to the pitfalls of ecstatic love and emotional enthusiasm. Regarding the difference between Rabbi DovBer and Rabbi Aharon, he refers to the vivid image provided by the Rebbe Rashab:
Like a burning stick of hay. When it is dry it burns with a flame. It burns through and nothing remains. [Such was the service of Rabbi Aharon] But when it contains moisture its substance is entirely burnt through, and yet [its form] remains standing. Touch it. It is nothing. Yet the form stands. Such was the Mitteler Rebbe [Rabbi DovBer]. This is the love of glowing flame, an all-consuming fire, yet the form stands.53
Of Angels and Other Things
Notable both for its topical interest and for the broader significance of its central point is an analysis of the treatment of angels in Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s teachings by Rabbi Aharon Chitrik. “Chabad teachings… present comprehensive and deep explanations, extending to very specific details of the nature of angels: their creation, their character, their station, their role, their subjugation to G‑d, prayer and song, their constant service, their free-will or lack thereof, etc. etc.” But these discussions, Chitrik convincingly demonstrates, do not reflect any intrinsic interest in angels at all. Angels are only the focus of such intense discussion as a counterpoint from which we can achieve a better understanding of the unique nature of the Jewish soul, and its mission on this physical earth.54 In an 1804 discourse explicating this point, Rabbi Schneur Zalman extends this principle to all Kabbalistic discussions of the cosmic chain of supernal realms: Ultimately all such theoretical investigations are but a stepping stone to achieve direct knowledge of G‑d’s essence.55
Two additional articles are devoted to the Tzemach Tzedek’s intensive engagement with his grandfather’s discourses, firstly from a theoretical perspective,56 and secondly as editor and publisher of Torah Ohr andLikutei Torah.57 In Grunwald’s apt and illuminating formulation, the Tzemach Tzedek is to Rabbi Schneur Zalman as the Tosafists are to the Talmud Bavli: Surveying Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s different treatments of the same or related topics, the Tzemach Tzedek seeks to compare them and combine them, ironing out apparent conflicts through innovative explanation, differentiation, and harmonization, and also to contextualize the former’s teachings within the broader Jewish tradition of philosophical and mystical thought.58
For all the rich depth, analysis and insight of Grunwald’s scholarship, his work in this volume tends to suffer from a certain looseness of form. Moving from text to context, from observation and analysis to elaboration and speculation, order and balance is sometimes lost; some points are too often repeated, others scattered in footnotes or hardly developed at all. His article on the Midrashic notion of “a dwelling in the lower realms,” as developed in Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s thought, abounds with relevant sources, thoughtful comparisons and observations. Yet it runs to nearly sixty pages and reads more like a voluminous draft than a tightly argued thesis.59
At the outset, Grunwald takes stock of the various perspectives within the Jewish tradition from which the purpose of the Torah and its commandments can be viewed—the Halachic, the philosophic and the kabbalistic—before proceeding to the unique contribution of Chassidism. Self admittedly his analysis is too sweeping. But it could also be better grounded in the relevant texts.60 His conclusion that the Chassidic object of “a dwelling in the lower realms” is tied to the revelation of divine unity is in particular need of justification and elaboration. His initial discussion of the philosophical purpose of the Torah and its commandments similarly highlighted divine unity, a point that will further confuse many readers. The Rebbe Rashab explicitly discussed the Chassidic renewal of this midrashic conception in terms of its relationship with philosophical and kabbalistic approaches, and Grunwald is as familiar as anyone with the relevant sources. But it is not till footnote 99 that the first discourse of Yom Tov Shel Rosh Hashanah 5666 (“Samach Vav”) makes an appearance.61
Given the immensity of Grunwald’s project, as editor of this volume and its chief contributor, he is to be applauded for his successful effort to share such a great wealth of information and insight. Nevertheless, in several instances Grunwald’s arguments would have been substantively enhanced if he had the time and resources to ensure that they were composed and constructed with more orderliness and concision. In fact, the more one delves into his work, the more one can envision all that remains to be written. Many a brief note, expanded into a fully developed thesis, could be the topic of an independent article.62
Moving beyond the direct transcripts of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s oral teachings, the volume includes a substantial collection of short sayings and teachings attributed to R. Schneur Zalman in a wide variety of secondary sources.63 A second collection draws exclusively on the oeuvre of Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn of Lubavitch (1880-1950), whose journals, letters and private talks preserve a rich reservoir of anecdotes and historiographical data passed down from the first generation of Chabad.64 Both of these rich collections were compiled by Grunwald and benefit greatly from his critical notes, comments and citations.
Also included in this volume is a newly edited edition of the seminal commentary to Tanya by one of the principal educators in the original Yeshiva Tomchei Temimim, Lubavitch—Rabbi Shmuel Groinem Estherman (d. 1921).65 Even in its as yet incomplete form this is a substantial text, which bears study and review in its own right. Another article gathers information on the period spent by Rabbi Schneur Zalman in Mohyliv-Podil’s’kyi on the River Dniester, following Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Vitebsk’s ascent to the Holy Land.66 Similar articles are devoted to some of the former’s Chassidim, including, but not limited to, the well-known Rabbi Binyamin of Kletzk67 and the lesser known —but perhaps equally influential, and certainly more intriguingly named—Rabbi Dovid Shvartz-Tuma.68
Subjective Transformation
Although the importance of Halacha for Rabbi Schneur Zalman and his work as a legal authority receives little attention in this volume, there are two notable exceptions. The first is Grunwald’s discussion of the relationship between the legal focus on physical activity and the mystical/Midrashic notion that G‑d desired a dwelling in the physical realms specifically.69 The second is a discussion by Rabbi Noach Green juxtaposing the objective rule of law in cases of monetary disputation with a more subjective process of arbitration and compromise. Rabbi Schneur Zalman preferred the subjective approach in practice, and also devoted several discourses to the mystical basis of that preference, explaining that this was the surer way of transforming our lowly environment into a “dwelling” for G‑d.70 As Green puts it: “The truth of Torah is imposed objectively, without actually refining the lowly material. Whereas the kindness of Torah is in accord with the nature of creation, and comes to refine the material as it is.”71
This preference—for subjective transformation rather than submissive acceptance of objective law—correlates with the ultimate focus of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s broader educational project. As we have seen, during the Liadi period his teachings delved deeply into the most esoteric of kabbalistic doctrines. But their purpose was ultimately focused on the conjunction of the highest highs and the lowest lows: direct knowledge of G‑d’s essence and the physical practice of the commandments. As is often noted in Chabad teachings, this overcoming of the cosmic hierarchy will only be accomplished fully with the advent of the messianic era. But the period of the exile is not merely a ceaseless struggle between our reality and our ideals, and messianic revelation is not simply bestowed from above. As Rabbi Schneur Zalman asserts in Tanya, it is achieved through our subjective toil throughout the era of exile.72
But the question remains to be asked: Why did Rabbi Schneur Zalman place such an emphasis on the assimilation and contemplation of theoretical ideals, which most of us cannot yet adequately replicate in practice? Why did he not restrict his instruction to the more directly attainable elements of divine service, as he had in the Liozna period?
A fascinating array of sources related to these questions are collected in another article by Grunwald.73 One example attributes the following distinction between toil of the heart and toil of the mind to Rabbi Schneur Zalman: G‑d promises that with the messianic advent “I shall remove the heart of stone… and give you a heart of flesh,” but nothing similar is said of the mind. In the realm of the heart, of emotional inspiration and refinement, we may ultimately rely on divine intervention. But we must first ready ourselves for such revelation intellectually, independently toiling to “subjectively assimilate, and affix in our minds, all the stations that will be achieved with the messianic advent.”74
Grunwald argues that for Rabbi Schnuer Zalman this kind of intellectual work isn’t simply a technical condition to the messianic revelation. It is actually central to his vision of such revelation as something achieved through human toil, through the subjective transformation of our lowly reality into a lofty messianic state. It is only if we have internally readied ourselves that the messianic advent can be complete, with the mindful quality of interiority openly spilling over into our hearts.75 In the words of the Rashab, cited earlier in this article: “The ultimate intention is the quality of interiority specifically, for with the coming of Moshiach specifically the interiority will be revealed…”76
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.
FOOTNOTES
1. On Mondshine’s life and work see Eli Rubin, “Rabbi Yehoshua Mondshine, 67, Acclaimed Scholar and Author, Passes Away in Jerusalem,” Chabad.org (25 December 2014), available here. See also David Assaf, “Avad Chassid Min Ha-aretz,” Oneg Shabbat blog (26 December 2014), available here. As originally posted on the Seforim blog (December 13, 2015, available here) this essay was titled “Toil of the Mind and Heart: A Meditation in Memory of Rabbi Yehoshua Mondshine.”
2. Notably, the new and improved edition of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s Igrot Kodesh (Kehot Publication Society, 2012), edited by Rabbi Shalom DovBer Levine, and the still ongoing publication of all extant transcripts of Rabbi Shneur Zalman’s oral discourses in the multi volume series Maamarei Admur Ha-zaken. See also Rabbi Shalom DovBer Levine, Toldot Chabad Be-russia Ha-tzaarit (Kehot Publication Society, 2010), and Rabbi Yehoshua Mondshine, Masa Barditchev (2010), Ha-maasar Ha-rishon (2012) and Ha-masa Ha-acharon (2012), among other works. In English see, most recently, Immanuel Etkes, Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liady: The Origins of the Chabad School (Waltham, Mass.: Brandeis University Press, 2015). While this is a valuable introductory work that takes advantage of first-hand documentary sources, I have noted elsewhere that its scope is rather limited. See Eli Rubin, “Making Chasidism Accessible: How Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi Successfully Preserved and Perpetuated the Teachings of The Baal Shem Tov,” Chabad.org (10 September 2012), available here. The shortcoming of that work are further highlighted when compared with the insights offered of the present volume. See my related comment below, note three. For an earlier, but in many ways broader, more complex and more insightful work see Naftali Loewenthal, Communicating the Infinite: The Emergence of the Chabad School (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1990). For a partial review of recent publications see Eli Rubin, “The Rabbi Who Defied Napoleon and Made Mysticism Accessible: New publications illuminate the life and legacy of Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi,” Chabad.org (11 January 2013), available here.
3. For an important exception see Loewenthal, Communicating the Infinite, 66-76 and 117-119. Though relatively brief, Loewenthal’s discussion is well grounded in the primary sources, and in several ways prefigures insights that are presented with far more elaboration in the present work. Another important work is Roman A. Foxbrunner, Habad: The Hasidism of R. Shneur Zalman of Lyady (University of Albama Press, 1992), which takes stock of some important aspects of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s teachings through a particularly wide analysis of the oral, as well as written, teachings. In certain respects this work similarly prefigures the present volume, but without the diachronic dimensions that will here be highlighted. For further treatments see Eli Rubin, “The Future is Now: Assorted reflections on the oral teachings of Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi,” Chabad-Revisited (30 November 2015), available here, and Jonathan Garb, “The Early Writings of Rashaz,” delivered at Johns Hopkins University, April 2015, and available online here. Etkes’ fleeting discussion of the oral teachings (Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liady, 50-54) relies on secondary sources, and at one point (note 93) confuses Rabbi Schneur Zalman with his great grandson, Rabbi Chaim Schneur Zalman of Liadi. It should be noted that none of these sources, including the present volume, address the two volumes of discourses published by Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s son, Rabbi DovBer: Siddur Tefilot Mi-kol Ha-shana Im Pirush Hamilot Al Pi Dach (Kopust, 1816), online here, and Bi’urei Ha-zohar (Kopust, 1816), online here. See also Elliot R. Wolfson, Open Secret: Postmessianic Messianism and the Mystical Revision of Menahem Mendel Schneerson (New York: Columbia University Press, 2009), where many texts by Rabbi Schneur Zalman are contextualized within a discussion of the thought of Chabad’s seventh Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson; Elliot R. Wolfson, A Dream Interpreted Within a Dream: A Dream Interpreted within a Dream: Oneiropoiesis and the Prism of Imagination (Cambridge, MA: Zone Books, 2011), 197-217. For more on Wolfson's oeuvre, see Joey Rosenfeld,“Dorshei Yichudcha: A Portrait of Professor Elliot R. Wolfson,” the Seforim blog (21 July 2015), available here.
4. Such belatedness seems to be something of a custom with such publications. In the introduction to the present volume (p. 15) reference is made to Sefer HaKan, a collection of articles on Rabbi Schneur Zalman that was intended to mark the 150th year since his passing in 1962, but which did not appear till the beginning of 1970, and is available online here.
5. For the relationship with Rabbi Avraham see Loewenthal, Communicating the Infinite, 51-54 and 77-90; Nehemia Polen, “Charismatic Leader, Charismatic Book: Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s Tanya and His Leadership,” in Suzanne Last Stone, ed., Rabbinic and Lay Communal Authority (New York: Yeshiva University Press, 2006), 60-61; Immanuel Etkes, Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liady: The Origins of the Chabad School (Waltham, Mass.: Brandeis University Press, 2015), 209-258. On the relationship with Rabbi Shlomo see the articles of Rabbi Avraham Abish Shor, as cited specifically below.
6. See Rabbi Meir Chaim Hillman, Beis Rebbi (Berditchev, 1902), Part 1, Chapter 20, note 5. See also the account in Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn, Igrot Kodesh Vol. 3 (Kehot Publication Society, 1983), 444-445.
7. Cited in HaRav, 401, and attributed to Rabbi Shlomo Zalman of Kopust in the name of his grandfather, the Tzemach Tzedek.
8. Rabbi Shalom DovBer Schneersohn, Torat Shalom (Kehot Publication Society, 1970), 26.
9. See Loewenthal, Communicating the Infinite, 72-73. Grunwald, HaRav, 402-406.
10. Torat Shalom, 114. Grunwald, HaRav, 412-413.
11. This is the second of the six features described by Grunwald, HaRav, 415-416.
12. Another article in this volume, by the late Rabbi Yehoshua Mondshine (HaRav, 609-650), collects extant accounts of such audiences, providing illuminating glimpses of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s interactions as a personal mentor.
13. HaRav, 415, and at greater length, Ibid., 394-396. See, however, the discussion of Tanya as exoteric in relation to the esoteric aspect expressed in the oral teachings, as cited by Loewenthal, Communicating the Infinite, p. 235-236, note 67.
14. HaRav, 416.
15. HaRav, 415.
16. HaRav, 420-421.
17. HaRav, 416-418. See also Jonathan Garb, “The Early Writings of Rashaz,” delivered at Johns Hopkins University, April 2015, and available online here.
18. HaRav, 413. On this last point see also Loewenthal, Communicating the Infinite, 68. On the stringent demands Rabbi Schneur Zalman attaches to worship of G‑d see Foxbrunner, Habad, 116.
19. HaRav, 415. For an ongoing exploration of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s discussion of ohr ain sof and tzimtzum, on the part of the present writer, see my series here.
20. See HaRav, 430-431.
21. See the extended discussion in HaRav, 361-375.
22. A formulation borrowed from Jonathan Garb, “The Early Writings of Rashaz,” delivered at Johns Hopkins University, April 2015, and available online here.
23. See the introduction to Igrot Kodesh Admur Ha-zaken (Kehot Publication Society, new and improved edition, 2012), 42-43, and sources cited there; Levine, Toldot Chabad Be-russia Ha-tzaarit, 29-31; Loewenthal, Communicating the Infinite, 42; Etkes, Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi, 9-19.
24. HaRav, 391-396. See also pages 421-423 where Grunwald argues that Rabbi Schneur Zalman sought to deemphasize the role of the tzaddik in chassidim altogether. In my view the picture he paints is overly simplistic, and he himself notes that more research is required. As I have argued elsewhere, while Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s understanding of the tzaddik’s role was different to that of other Chassidic leaders, he understood it to be no less central than they; see Eli Rubin, “The Second Refinement and the Role of the Tzaddik: How Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi discovered a new way to serve G‑d,” Chabad.org, available online here. For further comments on the role of the tzadik in Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s teachings see below note 28.
25. As published in Rabbi Aharon Surasky, Yesod Ha-maalah Vol. 2 (Bnei Brak, 2000), 85-86.
26. In a similar vein see Rabbi Avraham Abish Shor, Kovetz Beit Aharon Ve-yisra’el, Issue 167, 137.
27. See the related discussion of this source in Rabbi Avraham Abish Shor, Kovetz Beit Aharon Ve-yisra’el, Issue 157, p. 187).
28. Elsewhere in the present volume, Rabbi Eliyahu Matusof points out that when, in 1806—that is, in the Liadi period—Rabbi Schneur Zalman published a new edition of the Tanya, this reference to “our masters in the Holy Land” was omitted. Both Matusof (HaRav, 344-380) and Grunwald (HaRav, 398, note 30) see this as evidence that the distinction between the earlier and later periods of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s leadership (as described in more detail below) is to be extended to Tanya as well. In the earlier period it served as a proxy for one-on-one mentorship (yechidut). In the later period (when references to yechidut were also omitted from the 1806 edition of Tanya) it was transformed into the foundation of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s broader project to formulate, explain and disseminate the unique theoretical edifice of Chabad in terms that were accessible enough to be studied, assimilated and acted upon by any aspiring Chassid for perpetuity.
Grunwald’s general thrust also provides an important counterbalance to the argument advanced by Nehemia Polen (Charismatic Leader, Charismatic Book, 53-64) that Tanya was designed to craft a balance between control and empowerment, enforcing a rigid structure of social stratification, in which the tzadik is placed on a spiritual plain that the average man (benoni) can never hope to reach. Grunwald’s work complicates this sociological interpretation by demonstrating that during the period of Tanya’s composition the sociological structure of the Chassidic community had not yet been crystallized into distinct hierarchies led by individual tzadikim, but was rather a complex network with a spectrum of different kinds of authorities and leaders, whose homogeneity Rabbi Schneur Zalman did not seek to break. It is my belief that Tanya</>’s portrait of the tzaddik in contrast to the average man is primarily to be read theoretically and psychologically rather than sociologically. That is, it relates to the inner world of man, rather than to the external world of the community. As Polen acknowledges, the entire distinction between the tzaddik and the beinoni is such that outwardly the latter may be mistaken for the former. Tanya does discuss the role of the tzadik within the community, but it primarily does so using the terms “wise men” (chachamim), “Torah scholars” (talmidei chachamim), “wise men of the generation” (chachmei ha-dor</>), and “visionaries of the community” (enei ha-edah), which carry more obvious degrees of social implication. This claim, I believe, is borne out by the sources discussed in my article, as cited above, note 24. Moreover, the plural tense of these terms better reflects the less stratified sociological reality of the time.
29. Levine, HaRav, 661-684; See also the important series of articles by Rabbi Avraham Abish Shor, “Karlin Be-tekufat Galut”, in Kovetz Beit Aharon Ve-yisra’el, as cited by Levine, Ibid., 662, note 9.
30. See Rabbi Avraham Abish Shor, “Al Harigato Shel Moshiach Hashem,” in Kovetz Beit Aharon Ve-yisra’el, Issues 39, 39 and 40.
31. Levine, HaRav, 668-669. During this more peaceful period a match was arranged between Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s widowed son-in-law—Rabbi Shalom Shachne, father of the Tzemach Tzedek of Lubavitch—and Rivka Rivla, the sister of Rabbi Asher of Stolin. See Shor,Kovetz Beit Aharon Ve-yisra’el, Issue 162, p. 139-140.
32. See the relevant discussions in HaRav, 426-431; Immanuel Etkes, Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liady, 98-100; Jonathan Garb, Yearnings of the Soul (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2015), 50-57. This last source is particularly notable for its emphasis on the respective roles of the mind and the heart in Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s teachings, which is also the broader theme of the present essay.
33. Levine, HaRav, 670-672. See the excerpts appended to Igrot Kodesh Admur Ha-zaken (Kehot Publication Society, new and improved edition, 2012), 496, 498-500.
34. HaRav, 400. The coincidence of these two ruptures is underscored in a letter by Rabbi Schneur Zalman noting his inability to respond to Rabbi Avraham’s critique until circa 1799-1800, due “to the distress of the times,” referring to his arrest. See Igrot Kodesh Admur Ha-zaken, 341; HaRav, 672.
35. See the editor's Introduction to Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi (ed. Rabbi DovBer Levine), Igrot Kodesh (Kehot Publication Society, new and improved edition, 2012), 35-37.
36. With regard to mili de’alma see HaRav, 391, note 13; 409-410. With regard to takonat liozna see HaRav, 398, note 29; 408, note 65. See also Levine, Toldot Chabad Be-russia Ha-tzaarit, 36.
37. In one of the very last texts penned by Rabbi Schneur Zalman before his passing he even went so far as to justify and explain this central link between material concerns and the spiritual service of G‑d. See sources cited and discussed in the editor's Introduction to Igrot Kodesh, 39. See also Yanki Tauber, “The Physical World According to Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi,” Chabad.org, available here.
38. HaRav, 396-398; 388-389, note 6. See also the discussion by Shor, Kovetz Beit Aharon Ve-yisra’el, Issue 172, 151-152. Loewenthal, Communicating the Infinite, 71-77. For a similar shift in the role that Tanya came to play in this period see above, note 28.
39. For Grunwald’s extended discussion see HaRav, 432-461. See also Loewenthal, Communicating the Infinite, 75-77 and 117-119. For a particularly extensive discussion of the nature and role of love and awe in Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s teachings see Foxbrunner, Habad, 178-194.
40. Maamarei Admur Ha-zaken Al Maamarei Chazal, 94. HaRav, 453-454. See also Foxbrunner, Habad, 186.
41. My thanks go to Rabbi Avraham Altein for bringing this distinction to my attention, and for providing other important comments and citations.
42. HaRav, 438-552.
43. HaRav, 433-434. See also Foxbrunner, Habad, 185.
44. In a discourse delivered in the autumn of 1799 (Maamarei Admur Ha-zaken Ketuvim Vol. 1, 67 [96]), in between the first and second imprisonments (and misleadingly described by Grunwald as “the very beginning of the period following Petersburg”), Rabbi Schneur Zalman describes how to cultivate this cerebral form of love. It is noteworthy that this contemplation is explicitly directed from the mind to the heart:
“Speak to your heart quietly and coolly, which is the opposite of the heated movement of the heart… Settled mindfulness (yishuv ha-daat) is cool, without any movement, and you shall delve deeply into settled mindfulness with ease and calm (be-nachat), and say to your heart: ‘The infinite revelation of G‑d creates [existence], something from nothing, at every moment, it is clear in my intellect that this is so… If so how can I be separate [from G‑d]? And [how can] all my thoughts and the capacities of my soul not constantly be cleaving to G‑d… ?”
45. See also Loewenthal, Ibid., where similar arguments are made drawing on additional textual examples. Loewenthal also demonstrates an increased focus on abnegation (bitul) in contrast to emotionalism.
46. HaRav, 473-505. See also Levine, HaRav, 675-684. Levine, Introduction to Igrot Kodesh, 49, points out that the year 1805 is when the term “Chabad” comes into use as a way of expressly distinguishing the followers of Rabbi Schneur Zalman from those of other Chassidic leaders.
47. Loewenthal, Communicating the Infinite, 100-138, and 167-174 and 195. See also Hillman, Beis Rebbi, Part 1, Chapter 26, and Louis Jacobs, Tract on Ecstasy (Vallentine Mitchell, 1963); Louis Jacobs, Seeker of Unity: The Life and Works of Aharon of Starosselje (Vallentine Mitchell, 1966). For more recent comments on Rabbi DovBer, Rabbi Aaron and the interrelationship of their thought see Wolfson, A Dream Interpreted Within a Dream, 210-214, and Garb, Yearnings of the Soul, 56-57.
48. HaRav, 432-438.
49. See also the accounts transmitted by Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn in Igrot Kodesh Vol. 3 (Kehot Publication Society, 1983), 477; and in Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, Reshimot Ha-yoman (Kehot Publication Society, 2006), 367.
50. HaRav, 448-449.
51. Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Lubavitch, Ohr Ha-torah, Bereishit Vol. 3, 603-604 (Hebrew pagination). This last quote—as well as the source quoted above, note 44—further emphasizes the central role that the heart continued to play in Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s thought, even in the later period. See Maamarei Admur Ha-zaken 5570, 207-210 for a discourse delivered by Rabbi DovBer in the lifetime of Rabbi Schneur Zalman, which similarly emphasizes this point, contrasting between the exteriority of the heart and the interiority of the heart (pnimiyut ha-lev). As Loewenthal puts it (Ibid., 122) Rabbi DovBer too demanded ecstasy: “not ecstasy of the self, but of the nonself…”
52. Hillman, Beis Rebbi, Part 1, Chapter 26, note 4.
53. Torat Shalom, 213.
54. HaRav, 563-572.
55. Maamarei Admur Ha-zaken 5565, 4.
56. Rabbi Nochum Grunwald, HaRav, 573-586.
57. Rabbi Nechemia Teichman, HaRav, 587-606.
58. Grunwald’s description here is inspired by the comment of the Maharshal regarding the achievement of the Tosafists. See Yam Shel Shlomo, introduction to Chulin.
59. HaRav, 506-562.
60. For one relevant text that Grunwald does not discuss see Ma’amarei Admur ha-Zaken 5565, Volume 1, 489–90. For my own discussion of this text, as well as a contextualization of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s approach within the broader streams of Jewish rationalist and mystical thought that differs somewhat from Grunwald’s approach see Eli Rubin, “Intimacy in the Place of Otherness: How rationalism and mysticism collaboratively communicate the Midrashic core of cosmic purpose,” Chabad.org, available here.
61. HaRav, 544-545. Footnote 99, incidentally, is well worth reading. Among other points there, Grunwald makes explicit reference to Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik’s Halakhic Man. Indeed, hints to the similarities and differences between the latter’s approach and that of Rabbi Schneur Zalman are already apparent from the onset of Grunwald’s article. For more on this general topic See Elliot R. Wolfson, “Eternal Duration and Temporal Compresence: The Influence of Habad on Joseph B. Soloveitchik,” in Michael Zank and Ingrid Anderson, eds., The Value of the Particular: Lessons from Judaism and the Modern Jewish Experience - Festschrift for Steven T. Katz on the Occasion of his Seventieth Birthday (Leiden: Brill, 2015), 196-238.
62. Take for example page 562, footnote 145, where Grunwald gestures to the question of Jewish chosenness as developed in Chabad thought through the generations. For a lengthy treatment of this topic see Wolfson, Open Secret, Chapter 6. See also Eli Rubin, “Divine Zeitgeist—The Rebbe’s Appreciative Critique of Modernity,” Chabad.org, available here, and Wojciech Tworek, Time in the Teachings of Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi (dissertation submitted for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy, University College London, 2014), 126-136. None of these treatments deal with the diburificating statement Grunwald points to in Likutei Sichot Vol. 16 (Kehot Publication Society, 2006), 477-478: “When will it be achieved in a revealed sense that the Jews are a dwelling for G‑d? …Specifically… when, through the Jews, the lower realms themselves become a place that is fit for G‑d’s dwelling… Since the intention of a dwelling in the lower realms is [rooted] in G‑d’s essence, it is impossible to say that this intention should be compounded of two things…”
63. HaRav, 3-124.
64. HaRav, 125-211.
65. HaRav, 215-343.
66. HaRav, 653-658.
67. HaRav, 701-740.
68. HaRav, 765-770.
69. HaRav, 516-528.
70. HaRav, 693.
71. HaRav, 698. On Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s Halachik work and method Rabbi Shlomo Yosef Zevin, “Shulchan Aruch Admur” in Sofrim Ve-seforim Vol. 2 (Tel Aviv: Hotza’at Sefarim Avraham Tziyoni, 1959), 9-21 [Hebrew], translated and adapted by the present writer as,“Systematization, Explanation and Arbitration: Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi’s Unique Legislative Style,” Chabad.org, available here. For an overview of the current state of scholarship on this topic see Levi Cooper, “Towards A Judicial Biography of Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liady,” in Journal of Law and Religion 30, no. 1 (2015), 107-135. On the need to address the relationship between Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s Halachik and Kabbalistic work see Garb, Yearnings of the Soul, 155-157.
72. Likutei Amarim, Chapter 37. For an extended discussion of the prominent place of the messianic idea in Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s thought, correcting a major gap in previous scholarship, see Wojciech Tworek, Time in the Teachings of Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi(dissertation submitted for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy, University College London, 2014), especially Chapters 2 and 3. See the related discussion in Foxbrunner, Habad, 85-93, and also Eli Rubin, “The Idealistic Realism of Jewish Messianism: On Chabad’s apocalyptic calculations, and why Jews have always predicted elusive ends,” Chabad.org, available here.
73. HaRav, 462-472.
74. HaRav, 469.
75. HaRav, 470-472.
76. Torat Shalom, 26.
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On the Calendar
Marking the Yahrtzeit of the Alter Rebbe, Founder of Chabad
mystic, a communal activist, a philosopher, a halachic authority, a composer, a talmudist—Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi was all of these. But he was primarily a spiritual guide, who created a practical path that allows anyone to approach divinity. Rabbi Schneur Zalman lived in an era of change and unrest on a global scale. Yet his life continues to inspire, and his works and teachings have long withstood the test of time.
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Women
Trying to Stand Steady After a Childhood Adrift By Liat Levy
I flit to and fro between the options, back and forth and back again. I need to decide something, anything, in order to move forward. But instead I find myself overwhelmed and unsure and temporarily “paralyzed.”
I absorbed this behavior when I was very little. I found myself in a murky world, sailing around and around and around in excruciating circles. There was often no seashore in sight. Decisionmaking, especially, was an endless endeavor. The waters were rough, and I felt seasick and stuck, but I had nothing and nobody to hold onto. I learned that the others on our little boat could put on a life jacket at a whim and jump off and swim away toward the chance of a clearer, simpler reality, without even looking back. But I was too young to swim.
I did, however, have school as an oasis. I treasured my time within its clear borders, and there I thrived. Every day I would return to the wobbly waters, and on the way I’d peer beyond my little world and catch a glimpse of land. A foreign place that appeared not to move quite as much. A place where little girls had people who did not leave them, and bought them stuff and let them just be little. Where decisions were made and things were clear. And I ached for a reality that was not mine.
But I was out at sea on a boat that got heavier. No decision was made about how to get us to shore; it was even thought safer to risk drowning rather than face the consequences of making the wrong call. And so we stayed out at sea, contemplating the possible options. I tried to suggest decisions, but I was little, and my decisions were always undone. When and where I could, I kept my eyes on that land.
Eventually I was big and strong enough to swim off, just like some of the others on my boat had once done, too. I thought that the land that I had spied for so long would offer relief, but instead I felt guilty for swimming away. I felt the movement of the unsteady water still in me. I was no longer as clear as I was when in the company of the unclear.
And so began a long journey that I am still on. To find safeness and stillness within. And sometimes, after many years, I see that I am on the other side, the stable land, looking out at the rough waters in the distance. The world rocks ever so slightly beneath my feet, but it’s mainly the aftereffects.
But other times, like now, when I am trying to make a serious decision and feel confused and scared, the land seems to slip from beneath me, and I find myself once again out in the middle of the ocean, tossed from side to side, with sharks all around. Familiar, frightening territory.
So, I try to look in a different direction. Not toward the land. I see that the land was limited and that it was not always what it seemed. The little girls who seemed to have it all did not; they were on their own odyssey. So I look upward, upward toward a G‑d who cares, toward faith, toward a bird’s-eye perspective and a bigger picture. To a belief that all that time in the water is what made me who I am today. I look upward to a reality where there are no “wrong” decisions, but rather many “right” options. To a vision of a world that leans toward me rather than against.
I can’t say I have made my current decision yet. Admittedly, I am still going with this one. But I am working on loving myself anyway. Working on empathy. Working to throw my fear overboard, so I can watch it scatter into the nothingness that it really is.
I mutter a heartfelt prayer that I be blessed with clarity so I can make a decision soon. And that once it’s made, I let go and dive in that direction with confidence. Revel in the exhilaration of movement, and float on the current in peace.
Liat Levy is a journalist who loves writing about her life experiences openly, in the hope that others will find comfort and inspiration in her words. She is passionate about living her best life and about helping others to do the same too. She currently lives in Jerusalem.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.
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Women
Tips for Feeding Picky Eaters
By Aliza Neveloff
In the mornings I babysit my neighbor’s 10-month-old daughter. She is an active, happy and sweet baby. I love helping out my neighbor, and her baby is a delight.
My neighbor has a unique quality: she dislikes fruit and won’t touch it at all. As a mom, she has had to overcome her dislike of fruit somewhat, because she wants her kids to eat it. Most of her kids do enjoy eating fruit, but her baby daughter is not so fond of it.
One morning I grated an apple for Yael* and placed it on her lips. She simply licked her lips and shook her head, unimpressed. The next day I tried to feed her a banana. She spit it out. This didn’t worry me too much, because she was eating vegetables and meat and starches, and she was generally happy. I smiled as I thought how much my neighbor’s daughter was just like her mom. She even looks the most like her from among the kids.
Dealing with Yael’s dislike of fruit, I found myself motivated to research finicky eaters, and with her mother's permission, develop an effective method for exposing her to new foods. I learned some helpful things. Children often eat small amounts, behave inconsistently about what they eat, and are fickle about their likes and dislikes. A parent might interpret a child’s behavior as being finicky, but it could be normal eating behavior for a young child. In contrast, a child who eats only from a limited list of foods, insists on the same foods again and again, and even gets upset when offered something that is not on the list, is a finicky eater.1
How could I prevent Yael from becoming a finicky eater? The first answer I got was not to pressure her into eating fruit. Some children are naturally sensitive to taste, texture and smell. These children often find certain foods upsetting in some way, and will sometimes spit them out. When parents and caregivers pressure children to eat, they can make the children turn into finicky eaters. Children always do more and dare more when they feel control over a situation. If a child is allowed to be calm and polite, but firm, about his food refusal, he will be able to very gradually try new foods, and even learn to like them.
After being offered a food 10 or 20 times, a child might start to like the food. This was my second answer. Don’t give up on presenting Yael with all types of fruits in a variety of presentations. Parents and caregivers who provide too few opportunities for children to learn to like new foods can also make children into finicky eaters.
So, for the few weeks after learning these tips, I presented Yael with different types of fruits: watermelon, persimmon, grapes, clementines, etc. Some she liked better than others. I did not really care how much she was eating, just that she was enjoying herself and trying new fruits. Then, one day, her mother brought her with an apple in her bag. I was not eager to prepare it for her because of her previous negative reactions to apples.
When her mom called to see how our morning was going, she said, “About the apple, yesterday I cut the apple into slices, and Yael enjoyed munching on them. Maybe she will like it today too.” I happily peeled and sliced the apple, and Yael noshed away.
This incident reminded me of the mitzvah of bringing the first fruits from one’s crop to the kohen (priest) in the Holy Temple in Jerusalem. There is a chassidic teaching that the mitzvah of first fruits represents renewal and new beginnings: “The main obligation of bringing the first fruits alludes to renewal, that a person needs to renew himself each time and to begin again every time.”2 Just as fruit grows anew every year, and needs to be brought to the Temple anew every year, a person should always approach life with a renewed sense of purpose, starting again as though with a fresh slate.
I thought that this interpretation of the mitzvah of first fruits was extremely relevant to the approach I needed to take when trying to get Yael to eat fruit: to serve her fruit with enthusiasm and excitement, as if I had never served it to her before.
When exposing your child to new foods, every time is like the first time. A child might need a lot of exposure to different food to learn to like them. And don’t be afraid or insulted if a child says no a number of times. You might just need to try again.
As parents, we may have to work on our own picky food habits along with our children. Our children will only have positive attitudes and behaviors around food if we do. So let’s not be afraid to serve different types of food and try out different kinds of food preparation. The time and effort we put in now can make an enormous difference for our children later on.
_______________
*Not her real name.
Aliza has a bachelor’s degree in Clinical Nutrition from the University of California, Davis, and a master’s degree in Public Health from Ben Gurion University. She recently finished a course in nutrition education and counseling through the Ellyn Satter Institute. She lives in the northern Negev of Israel with her family.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.
FOOTNOTES
1. Satter, E. 2002: Ellyn Satter’s Nutrition and Feeding for Infants and Children: Handout Masters. www.ellynsatter.com.
2. Likutei Halachot Yoreh Deah (of Reb Natan), Laws of Meat and Milk, 4th law.
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Women
How I Graduated From an Ivy League School and Changed the World By Elana Mizrahi
When I attend a birth as a doula, I never know if I will be gone for three hours or for twenty. There’s no predictability in the job. I’ve been at births where I literally didn’t sleep for thirty-six hours straight. And what happens after a birth? I come home. I recuperate. I’m of course paid for my work. And I can’t describe how wonderful I feel upon receiving the beautiful notes and calls of gratitude from couples whom I’ve been privileged to help. I definitely feel good about my job. I feel appreciated.
At the hospital, I run into doctors that I know. They have long shifts—I’ve seen doctors there for thirty-six hours straight as well. They too, at the end of their shift, come home, get paid, and are regarded very highly by society. And this holds true for many other professions as well.
Well now, thank G‑d, after the recent birth of my fourth I never know if I will be gone for three hours or for twentychild, I’m taking at least a year off from “doula-ing,” and yet I still have many of those sleepless nights . . . no, not helping someone else, but with my own baby. For example, the other day we were up at 1 AM, 2 AM, 3 AM. . . . In the morning, after all my other children were out the door, I felt so exhausted, but a voice inside me said, “Let’s go, you’ve got things to do”—as if I hadn’t really been doing something all night! So I did do a bit of what I thought I had to do. At 11 o’clock, my very exhausted baby was ready for a nap, so I put him down in his crib. And then do you know what I did? No, I didn’t take the time to “do” more. I turned off that voice and listened to a different one instead. I stopped what I was “doing” and went to bed!
The two of us slept until 1 PM. I woke up fresh and alert. And I also woke up feeling proud of myself for taking care of myself and for not feeling guilty about it. I felt good about the fact that I was doing holy work all night long—work that no one, except my husband, knew or appreciated, yet I knew and valued. I felt proud of myself for listening to the voice of truth, the voice of Torah, which helped me understand that the holy work continued as I took a nap. Because “not doing” enables me to continue to “do” more holy work—which comes with no pay, no public recognition, and yet such greatness.
About sixteen years ago I graduated from one of the top universities in the world, and I did this in three years instead of four. As I received my diploma, many people were looking at me with either envy, admiration, or a mixture of both. At that point they thought, “This is going to be one very successful woman!” People wanted to know, what would I do next? Originally there were plans for law school, working in government, “changing the world and making it into a better place.” I even spent one of those college summers interning in Washington, D.C., but when I was there I kept thinking to myself, “This is not the place for a woman who wants to be a mommy. I want to change the world and make it into a ‘better’ place, but I want to do it by being a mommy . . .” Pretty unconventional thoughts nowadays for a woman in her late teens and early twenties! Who put those thoughts into a Stanford University student’s head? Really, it wasn’t “who” so much as “what,” and the “what” was my soul.
And when I tell you that I was proud of myself for not feeling guilty, I mean it. It’s not easy to get the voices out of your head, the ones which you absorbed for at least twenty years from a society that tells you that success is based on a title or how much money you make. I had to work on myself to come to the point where I could see that by giving, nurturing, loving and educating my children, I actually am changing the world and making it into a better place.
Judaism places a huge emphasis on the role of the Jewish woman. In fact, the core of Jewish life—which is in essence the Jewish home—rests upon her shoulders. How do we know this? By her making chicken soup and potato kugel? No. (Although this too has its importance.) We know it by the three principal mitzvahs of the Jewish woman: lighting Shabbat candles, taking challah and going to the mikvah (the laws of Family Purity). These three mitzvahs are so important, so fundamental to Judaism, and yet she does them in private, she does them in her home.
No one knows (except, of course, for her family) if she lit those candles ushering in the Shabbat Queen. No one knows whether she has taken challah from her special Shabbat bread, and no one knows about her going to immerse in the purifying waters of the mikvah. Each mitzvah that she does has an enormous impact on the peace, prosperity and purity of her home—and therefore on the world. These mitzvahs are her responsibility. They are privileges to perform, and yet no one knows that she’s doing it. The very fact that they are done modestly, discreetly, contributes to their greatness and to hers.
At times, there are conflicting voices going on inside our heads. At times, there are conflicting voicesThere are voices that steer us in one direction or another. Some parts of society tell us one thing, and others tell us something else. But when we understand the awesomeness of our role and the value of our mitzvahs, when we know that even if no one pays us or no one sees our actions, then we, in modesty and in discretion, are changing the world and making it into a better place. How wonderful! How huge! How meaningful.
When I think back to my classmates, to the people who attended my graduation, I realize that they were right. I’m a mother of four, a homemaker, a wife, a Jewish woman. I amone very successful woman!
Originally from northern California and a Stanford University graduate, Elana Mizrahi now lives in Jerusalem with her husband and children. She is a doula, massage therapist, writer, and author of Dancing Through Life, a book for Jewish women. She also teaches Jewish marriage classes for brides.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.
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Parshah
Spirits in a Material World By Rabbi Jonathan Sacks
The Torah sometimes says something of fundamental importance in what seems like a minor and incidental comment. There is a fine example of this near the beginning of today’s Parshah.
Last week, we read of how Moses was sent by G‑d to lead the Israelites to freedom, and how his initial efforts met with failure. Not only did Pharaoh not agree to let the people go; he made the working conditions of the Israelites even worse. They The people did not listen to Moseshad to make the same number of bricks as before, but now they had to gather their own straw. The people complained to Pharaoh, then they complained to Moses, then Moses complained to G‑d. “Why have You brought trouble to this people? Why did You send me?”
At the beginning of this week’s Parshah, G‑d tells Moses that he will indeed bring the Israelites to freedom, and tells him to announce this to the people. Then we read this:
So Moses told this to the Israelites, but they did not listen to him, because their spirit was broken and because the labor was harsh. 1
The italicized phrase seems simple enough. The people did not listen to Moses, because he had brought them messages from G‑d before, and they had done nothing to improve their situation. They were busy trying to survive day by day. They had no time for utopian promises that seemed to have no grounding in reality. Moses had failed to deliver in the past. They had no reason to think he would do so in the future. So far, so straightforward.
But there is something more subtle going on beneath the surface. When Moses first met G‑d at the burning bush, G‑d told him to lead, and Moses kept refusing on the grounds that the people would not listen to him. He was not a man of words. He was slow of speech and tongue. He was a man of “uncircumcised lips.” He lacked eloquence. He could not sway crowds. He was not an inspirational leader.
It turned out, though, that Moses was both right and wrong: right that they did not listen to him, but wrong about why. It had nothing to do with his failures as a leader or a public speaker. In fact, it had nothing to do with Moses at all. They did not listen “because their spirit was broken and because the labor was harsh.” In other words: If you want to improve people’s spiritual situation, first improve their physical situation. That is one of the most humanizing aspects of Judaism.
Maimonides emphasizes this in The Guide for the Perplexed.2 The Torah, he says, has two aims: the wellbeing of the soul and the wellbeing of the body. The wellbeing of the soul is something inward and spiritual, but the wellbeing of the body requires a strong society and economy, where there is the rule of law, division of labor and the promotion of trade. We have bodily wellbeing when all our physical needs are supplied, but none of us can do this on our own. We specialize and exchange. That is why we need a good, strong, just society.
Spiritual achievement, says Maimonides, is higher than material achievement, but we need to ensure the latter first, because “a person suffering from great hunger, thirst, heat or cold cannot grasp an idea even if it is communicated by others, much less can he arrive at it by his own reasoning.” In other words, if we lack basic physical needs, there is no way we can reach spiritual heights. When people’s spirits are broken by harsh labor, they cannot listen to a Moses. If you want to improve people’s spiritual situation, first improve their physical conditions.
This idea was given classic expression in modern times by two New York Jewish psychologists, Abraham Maslow (1908–1970) and Frederick Herzberg (1923–2000). Maslow was fascinated by the question of why many people never reached their full potential. He also believed—as, later, did Martin Seligman, creator of Positive Psychology—that psychology should focus not only on the cure of illness but also on the positive promotion of mental health. His most famous contribution to the study of the human mind was his “hierarchy of needs.”
We are not a mere bundle of wants and desires. There is a clear order to our concerns. Maslow enumerated five levels. First are our physiological needs: for food and shelter, the basic requirements of survival. Next come safety needs: protection against harm done to us by others. Third is our need for love and belonging. Above that comes our desire for recognition and esteem, and higher still is self-actualization: fulfilling our potential, becoming the person we feel we could and should be. In his later years Maslow added a yet higher stage: self-transcendence, rising beyond the self through altruism and spirituality.
Herzberg simplified this whole structure by distinguishing between physical and psychological factors. He called the first Adam needs, and the second, Abraham needs. Herzberg was particularly interested in what motivates people at work. What he realized in the late 1950s—an idea revived more recently by American-Israeli economist Dan Ariely—is that money, salary and financial rewards (stock options and the like) is not the only motivator. People do not necessarily work better, harder or more creatively the more you pay them. Money works up to a certain level, but beyond that the real motivator is the challenge to grow, create, find meaning, and to invest your highest talents in a great cause. Money speaks to our Adam needs, but meaning speaks to our Abraham needs.
There is a truth here that Jews and Judaism have tended to note and live by more fully than many other civilizations and faiths. Most religions are cultures of acceptance. There is poverty, hunger and disease on earth because that is the way the world is; that is how G‑d made it and wants it. Yes, we can find happiness, nirvana or bliss, but to achieve it you must escape from the world by meditation, or retreating to a monastery, or by drugs or trances, or by waiting patiently for the joy that awaits us in the world to come. Religion anesthetizes us to pain.
That Ours is a religion of protestisn’t Judaism at all. When it comes to the poverty and pain of the world, ours is a religion of protest, not acceptance. G‑d does not want people to be poor, hungry, sick, oppressed, uneducated, deprived of rights or subject to abuse. He has made us His agents in this cause. He wants us to be His partners in the work of redemption. That is why so many Jews have become doctors fighting disease, lawyers fighting injustice or educators fighting ignorance. It is surely why they have produced so many pioneering (and Nobel Prize–winning) economists. As Michael Novak (citing Irving Kristol) writes:
Jewish thought has always felt comfortable with a certain well-ordered worldliness, whereas the Christian has always felt a pull to otherworldliness. Jewish thought has had a candid orientation toward private property, whereas Catholic thought—articulated from an early period chiefly among priests and monks—has persistently tried to direct the attention of its adherents beyond the activities and interests of this world to the next. As a result, tutored by the law and the prophets, ordinary Jews have long felt more at home in this world, while ordinary Catholics have regarded this world as a valley of temptation and as a distraction from their proper business, which is preparation for the world to come.3
G‑d is to be found in this world, not just the next. But for us to climb to spiritual heights, we must first have satisfied our material needs. Abraham was greater than Adam, but Adam came before Abraham. When the physical world is harsh, the human spirit is broken, and people cannot then hear the word of G‑d, even when delivered by a Moses.
Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev said it well: “Don’t worry about the state of someone else’s soul and the needs of your body. Worry about the needs of someone else’s body and the state of your own soul.”
Alleviating poverty, curing disease, ensuring the rule of law and respect for human rights: these are spiritual tasks no less than prayer and Torah study. To be sure, the latter are higher, but the former are prior. People cannot hear G‑d’s message if their spirit is broken and their labor harsh.
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks is the former Chief Rabbi of Great Britain and the British Commonwealth. To read more writings and teachings by Lord Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, or to join his e‑mail list, please visitwww.rabbisacks.org.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.
FOOTNOTES
1. Exodus 6:9.
2. Book 3, chapter 27.
3. Michael Novak, This Hemisphere of Liberty (Washington, D.C.: American Enterprise Institute, 1990), 64.
© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
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Story
What Am I Doing Here?
By Marcy Horowitz
As I exited the Kingston Avenue subway station on a lovely fall morning, I had to ask myself: What was I doing here?
I’m a Reform Jew, the mother of a healthy 28-year-old son. What accident of fate made me part of the Ruderman Chabad Inclusion Initiative, a group committed to inclusion for people with disabilities at every level of Chabad life?
No, wait. It’s a given in Chabad circles that there are no “accidents.” I think about these events in my own life . . .
My best friend has just given birth, but something’s “not right” with her son. Eventually she receives a diagnosis: cerebral palsy. He will never roll over, sit up, walk or speak. Never feed, toilet or bathe himself.
A year later, another friend’s son is diagnosed with autism; this boy has extreme behavioral issues and cannot speak.
The son of yet another friend has severe learning disabilities.
A friend’s daughter has dysgraphia. Will she succeed in school? How?
I may not be able to understand why these things happen, but I don’t really need to. All I need to do is know that we all live in the same world, and it is incumbent upon us to make our family, work and community circles as large as possible. To reach out to those who are “different.” To make the world more inclusive for people with disabilities.
How do we do this?
“How” is the core work of the Ruderman Chabad Inclusion Initiative. The RCII team is asking people with and without disabilities, and experts in Chassidus, disability rights, inclusion issues, special education, mental health, physical therapy and more to look at the status quo throughout the Chabad universe and see how we can make our world more inclusive for people with disabilities.
I admit that I was surprised when I was invited to be a member of the RCII team. I have no special insight into disability issues. But as a professional writer and grants administrator, I have the opportunity to use my talents and abilities to help make the world a more welcoming place for all of us—those of us with disabilities and those of us without.
In my life’s work, I’m not going to find a cure for cerebral palsy. I’m not going to invent a computer program that will teach people with Autism Spectrum Disorders to interact with others. I’m not going to restore the hearing of a deaf person.
I’m going to write reports, create budgets, edit articles, record meeting notes and deal with the minutiae of RCII during the four-year grant. This kind of nitty-gritty, down-in-the-trenches work may not sound like much to you. But it’s a necessary part of the team’s process. I’d like to think that these efforts will have a major and positive influence on the lives of people with and without disabilities, both inside and outside of Chabad.
And although I’d love to quote a great chassidic master, I’m going to call on Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., instead:
“If I cannot do great things, let me do small things in a great way.”
Marcy Horwitz is a grant writer living in Richmond, Va. She is a member of the Ruderman Chabad Inclusion Initiative team.
The Ruderman-Chabad Inclusion Initiative (RCII) is dedicated to building on the philosophy and mission of Chabad-Lubavitch by providing Chabad communities around the globe the education and resources they need to advance inclusion of people with disabilities. RCII engages Chabad’s network of human and educational resources to create a Culture of Inclusion so that all Jews feel welcomed, supported and valued throughout their entire lifecycle.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.
© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
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Story
Give Me the Shivers By Yerachmiel Tilles
One of the chassidim of Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi suddenly fell ill while sailing down the Dnieper River on a business trip. He decided to leave the ship at the next port, Shklov, and seek medical attention.
He went to a well-known doctor, who answered him in grave tones, “I’m afraid you have contacted a rare disease for which, as of yet, no cure has been found. I suggest you return home immediately.”
The chassid, however, decided to go see his rebbe before going home. “If my days are numbered, at least I will have seen the rebbe before I die,” he thought, and set out for Liozna.“Rubbish! You are only suffering from malaria!”
When he related the doctor’s words to the rebbe, he was surprised to hear the rebbe’s reaction. “Rubbish! You are only suffering from malaria!”
“But Rebbe,” the chassid protested, “one of the symptoms of malaria is recurring shivers and chills, neither of which I have.”
“Nu, so you will shiver!” the rebbe said.
No sooner had the rebbe uttered those words when the chassid began trembling, his teeth chattering uncontrollably.
He was treated in Liozna, and remained there until he fully recovered. Once he regained his strength, he set out back home, passing through Shklov to see the doctor whom he had previously consulted.
“How could you have frightened me so, telling me that I had some incurable disease? You see, thank G‑d, all I had was a case of malaria, and I am now alive and well.”
“Indeed,” replied the doctor, “you had malaria. However, there are two variants of this disease. One is a serious but uncomplicated illness, characterized by chills and shivers, for which treatment is available. The other, more severe case is typified by a gradual loss of energy. For this, there is no cure. You most certainly had the more severe type of malaria. I am amazed at your recovery. What happened?”
The chassid told the doctor of his visit to his rebbe. “The only explanation I have,” the doctor responded, “is that your rebbe’s blessing transformed the disease from one type to the other.”
[Connection to the weekly Torah reading: The plagues.
Connection to this week: 24 Tevet (this year, Sunday, Jan. 6) is the yahrzeit of the rebbe in the story. This year marks the 200th anniversary of his passing.]
Adapted and supplemented from From My Father’s Shabbos Table (pp. 84–85), Eliyahu Touger’s excellent selection and translation from the first two volumes of Rabbi Yehuda Chitrik’s 4-volume series, Reshimot Devarim.
Biographical note:
Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi [18 Elul 1745–24 Tevet 1812], one of the primary disciples of the Maggid of Mezeritch, is the founder of the Chabad chassidic movement. He is the author of Shulchan Aruch HaRavand Tanya, as well as many other major works in both Jewish law and the mystical teachings.
Copyright 2003 by KabbalaOnline.org. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this work or portions thereof, in any form, unless with permission, in writing, from Kabbalah Online.
Yerachmiel Tilles is the co-founder of Ascent-of-Safed, and was its educational director for 18 years. He is the creator of www.ascentofsafed.com and www.kabbalaonline.org and currently the director of both sites. He is also a well-known storyteller, a columnist for numerous chassidic publications, and a staff rabbi on AskMoses.com, as well as and the author of "Saturday Night, Full Moon": Intriguing Stories of Kabbalah Sages, Chasidic Masters and other Jewish Heroes.
© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
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Lifestyle
Cookbook Review, Amazing New Recipes & Free Giveaway By Miriam SzokovskiThe kosher cookbook market continues to flourish, and it can be difficult to know which cookbooks are the right match for each home cook. We all have our own strengths and weaknesses in the kitchen; some like to try varied international cuisines, while others prefer to stick with the more familiar; and, of course, some people are happy to spend time making complex recipes, but others are staunchly in the quick-and-easy-only camp.
From time to time I’ll be reviewing different cookbooks here, giving you a little glimpse inside each one, to help you decide which ones might be a good investment for you.
Have you heard about the new Silver Platter cookbook? It came out a few months ago, and I’ve heard so much about it. The publishers have sent me a copy to review, as well as several recipes from the book that I’ve included below (click on the picture or name of the dish to be taken to the recipe). We also have a second copy of the cookbook for one lucky reader!
What’s so special about this cookbook? Norene Gilletz, the leading author of kosher cookbooks in Canada, has teamed up with Daniella Silver, a previously unpublished newcomer to the kosher cooking scene. Together they have created a masterpiece—The Silver Platter.
Israeli-Style Satay with Tahini Dipping Sauce
The Fascinating Life and Works of the Founder of Chabad (Yahrtzeit: Tuesday)
Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi (1745–1812)Founder of Chabad
embed<script language="javascript" type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.chabad.org/multimedia/mediaplayer/embedded/embed.js.asp?aid=1212127&width=auto&height=auto"></script><span style="clear:both;" class="lb" id="lbdiv">Visit <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish.TV</a> for more <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish videos</a>.</span>
mystic, a communal activist, a philosopher, a halachic authority, a composer, a talmudist—Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi was all of these. But he was primarily a spiritual guide, who created a practical path that allows anyone to approach divinity. Rabbi Schneur Zalman lived in an era of change and unrest on a global scale. Yet his life continues to inspire, and his works and teachings have long withstood the test of time.---------------------
VIDEO
Why You Need to Say 'Thank You'
What G-d, Moses, and his own late wife for lessons taught this rabbi about gratitude. by Yacov Barber
Watch (8:59)<script language="javascript" type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.chabad.org/multimedia/mediaplayer/embedded/embed.js.asp?aid=3187097&width=auto&height=auto"></script><span style="clear:both;" class="lb" id="lbdiv">Visit <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish.TV</a> for more <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish videos</a>.</span>
What Is the Secret of Chabad?
Six big transformational ideas from the Rebbe that revolutionized the Jewish world.
By David Eliezrie
Watch (34:15)<script language="javascript" type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.chabad.org/multimedia/mediaplayer/embedded/embed.js.asp?aid=3169946&width=auto&height=auto"></script><span style="clear:both;" class="lb" id="lbdiv">Visit <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish.TV</a> for more <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish videos</a>.</span>
The Unvarnished Truth Behind the Red String and the Evil Eye
Are these merely old superstitions, or legitimate concerns?
By Avraham Plotkin
Watch (41:45)<script language="javascript" type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.chabad.org/multimedia/mediaplayer/embedded/embed.js.asp?aid=3168126&width=auto&height=auto"></script><span style="clear:both;" class="lb" id="lbdiv">Visit <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish.TV</a> for more <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish videos</a>.</span>---------------------
Your Questions
Is Psychoanalysis Kosher?
By Tzvi Freeman
Question:
What is the traditional Jewish view on psychoanalysis? I’m particularly interested in the purported parallels between Freudian and Chabad philosophy.
Answer:
There have been many views expressed, ranging from enthusiastic embrace to unconditional condemnation. What follows is based on the Lubavitcher Rebbe’s letters on the topic.
The Rebbe writes that psychoanalysis has helped people, but since Freud and his colleagues saw religion as something of an illness in itself, we must be careful in choosing the doctor to go to. You may have heard of Dr. Viktor Frankl, who wrote Man’s Search for Meaning. The basis of Frankl’s theory was that the primary motivation of an individual is the search for meaning in life, and that the primary purpose of psychotherapy should be to help the individual find that meaning. The Rebbe supports Frankl’s views over Freud’s, and bemoans the fact that the majority of psychotherapists have not followed in this path.
In other letters, the Rebbe agrees that there are many similarities between the Freudian model of the human psyche and that described by Rabbi Schneur Zalman in his highly original yet traditional classic work, theTanya. The first book of the Tanya provides spiritual guidance, often describing intimately the inner workings of the human soul. All of this is based firmly on the Talmud and other rabbinic writings-such as the works of Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon (Maimonides), Rabbi Yehuda Lowe of Prague (Maharal), Rabbi Yitzchak Luria (Ari), Rabbi Yeshayah Horowitz (Shaloh), and of course the oral teachings of the Baal Shem Tov and the Maggid of Mezeritch. Nevertheless, it stands out as the first literature to describe in detail the multiple facets and layers of the human personality and how they often conflict with one another, along with practical applications for overcoming depression, anxiety, feelings of inadequacy and more.
Furthermore, ethical literature beforehand had taken a generally behavioral approach: Do this, don’t do that. Be like this, avoid being like that. If you don’t, you’ll be sorry. Schneur Zalman’s approach, which became known as “Chabad,” is that our emotions and behavior are symptoms of what is happening with our mind. You can’t direct the heart directly, he wrote, and even behavior is not truly changed by offering reward and threatening punishment. Rather, all true change must be affected by working with the entire person, beginning with the inner mind.
This was also Freud’s achievement, when he demonstrated that much illness can be traced to mental disorder. Freud also pioneered the concept of a multi-layered consciousness, with multiple forces pulling in different directions. The very words he used—ego (ich), superego and id—are strikingly similar to the G‑dly soul, animal soul and person (guf) discussed in Tanya. Many other similarities could be discussed.
Several authors have dealt with the Jewish roots of Freud’s ideas. Some even point to his fascination with the Kabbalah and his talks with Rabbi Shalom DovBer, the fifth rebbe of Chabad-Lubavitch. Others assert that most of what he theorized can easily be traced to common Jewish folk knowledge.
However, where Freud sees the underlying force within man as his sexual drive, the Tanya sees it as his G‑dly soul. That’s a major difference with serious impact.
Furthermore, while Freud could prescribe therapy only through the intervention of an objective practitioner, Rabbi Schneur Zalman set down a clear path for the common man to work through on his own. We are all in control of our minds, he writes, to think about whatever we wish to think about. And then he lays out a prescription to develop a mindset that brings out the most essential and divine qualities of the heart. Of course, the guidance and assistance of the tzaddik is vital to the process, but the principal work, Rabbi Schneur Zalman stressed, lies on the shoulders of the individual wishing to improve.
Of course, Tanya was not meant as a remedy for psychosis. It was written for the common person who needs guidance in overcoming obstacles on his spiritual path. But the basics are all there, ready to be applied.
Rabbi Tzvi Freeman, a senior editor at Chabad.org, also heads our Ask The Rabbi team. He is the author of Bringing Heaven Down to Earth. To subscribe to regular updates of Rabbi Freeman's writing, visitFreeman Files subscription.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.
© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
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Your Questions
What Is an Eruv? And How Does It Work?
By Yehuda Shurpin
I recently read an article about how a Jewish community wants to create an eruv, a network of strings that will allow them to carry on Shabbat in an entire neighborhood. It was briefly described as a “legal loophole” constructed by the rabbis of the Talmud.
I’m confused. If the Torah says that carrying outside is forbidden on Shabbat, how can a few barely-visible wires make a difference?
Reply
Your question is a good one—and an old one. Almost 900 years ago, the great medieval philosopher and poet, Rabbi Judah Halevi (1080-1141), wrote about an exchange between a Jewish sage and a king, who asked the same question.1
Before we can understand why an eruv is not a loophole in a law prohibiting carrying, let’s first understand why and where carrying is forbidden in the first place.
The Prohibition
On Shabbat, one of the 39 forbidden activities is to carry anything four cubits (approximately six feet) within a public domain. This also includes transporting things from a private domain into a public one or vice versa.2 In this context, “private” and “public” has little to do with who holds the deed and everything to do with the physical properties and function of the area.
A “private domain” is an enclosed area. A “public domain” is generally defined as an unenclosed major thoroughfare that is used regularly by the public,and is at least 16 cubits wide (about 24 feet). Some are of the opinion that it also needs to have 600,000 people passing through it on a daily basis.3
Now, if it would be permitted to carry in open areas that are shared by many people but are not public domains per se, confusion would be likely to follow. So to err on the side of caution, the rabbis expanded the carrying ban to extend to any area, unless it is both fenced in and owned privately. This rabbinic law provides a clear-cut distinction that avoids confusion and prevents violation of Torah law. This pseudo-public area is called a karmelit.4
The Exceptions
In order for carrying to be allowed, you'll need both an eruv and a tzurat hapetach. The word eruv (which we will explain later) actually refers to food that serves to symbolically transform the shared area into an area owned by a single household. The tzurat hapetach is a series of structures that transform the area into closed area. Together, the two mark the area as private. Although not technically correct, the term eruv has come to refer to the tzurat hapetach structure as well. The eruv is often large enough to include entire neighborhoods with homes, apartments and synagogues, making it possible to carry on Shabbat, since one is never leaving the private domain.
But what kind of enclosure do you need?
If the area contains a proper public domain (as defined above), then it needs to be surrounded by real walls or natural barriers. For a rabbinically ordained karmelit, under which category many neighborhoods fall, a technical enclosure may suffice.5
In that case, the wall may have many doorways, leaving large open spaces. Essentially, this is the kind of “wall” we are creating with wires and poles; the poles are the doorposts, and the cables strung above them are the lintels.
In addition to providing Jewish people with more freedom to enjoy their Shabbat, Rabbi Judah Halevi explains that the relatively simple route to privatizing a karmelit is deliberate, in order that a distinction be made between the the rabbinic enactment and the biblical prohibition of carrying in a proper public domain.6
The Real Eruv
But walls alone are not enough. In order for an area to be private, it needs to belong to a single household or entity.
This stipulation originated from King Solomon, who foresaw that if people were allowed to carry in public, albeit enclosed areas, this would result in confusion, and the entire law would be forgotten or distorted. Indeed, the Talmud records that after King Solomon made this enactment, a divine voice from heaven proclaimed the profound wisdom of this enactment.7
In order to symbolically join multiple families into a single household, King Solomon and his court established the concept of eruvei chatzairot, whereby everyone in the area contributes food (or, as is usually done, one person can gift the food for everyone) to be kept in one of the houses. Since they all share food, they are now one household. The word eruv means “blending,” as the purpose of this food is to mix the entire community together into one.8
Don’t Try This at Home
It is important to keep in mind that the construction of an eruv is one of the more complex areas of Jewish law. Just because a particular area is enclosed by poles and wires does not necessarily allow carrying within that area. Many poles and strings do not qualify as doorways, and many areas are bona fide public domains and cannot be included in an eruv. Therefore, it is of utmost importance that an expert rabbi oversee the construction of a municipal eruv.
Among all the other technical details of the construction that the rabbi will need to work out, he will also ascertain whether the area in question is a karmelit. Such an eruv is not only not a loophole, it is part and parcel of the original rabbinic enactment.
Note:
1) An eruv only allows one to carry items which are permitted to be used on Shabbat and are are actually needed on Shabbat.
2) According to many authorities, it is not possible to create kosher eruv for many urban areas, even if there are fewer than 600,00 that walk the streets. Generally speaking, enclosures that surround entire cities rely on many lenient halachic opinions that are not accepted by all. Halachah encourages a devout Jew to be cautious about this.
3) The Lubavitcher Rebbe--Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory--taught that an eruv should only be built in a community where the local rabbis feel that it would enhance the careful observance of Shabbat, rather than cause people to be more lax. He also cautioned that an eruv should not enclose an entire city, so that people will know that there are places where it is forbidden to carry. Conversely, if carrying would be permitted in the entire city, people will grow accustomed to carrying on Shabbat and continue to do so even where there is no eruv.
Rabbi Yehuda Shurpin responds to questions for Chabad.org's Ask the Rabbi service.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.
FOOTNOTES
1. Kuzari 3:50.
2. See Shulchan Aruch, Orech Chaim 346:1.
3. Shulchan Aruch, Orech Chaim 345:7.
4. Shulchan Aruch, Orech Chaim 345:14.
5. See Shulchan Aruch, Orech Chaim 364:2 and Shulchan Aruch Harav 364:4.
6. See Kuzari 3:51.
7. Talmud, Shabbat 14b.
8. It should be noted that the procedure of eruv chatzairot is only effective for Jews who believe in the efficacy of an eruv. Therefore, in order to carry in any joint private domain, one must rent the area from all non-Jews and non-believing Jews who reside in the private domain. This can, however, be done through a top local government official such as the mayor or county executive (how exactly this all works is beyond the scope of this article). See Shulchan Aruch, Orech Chaim 382:1, 385:1-4; see also Shulchan Aruch Harav, Orech Chaim 382:1, 385:1-4.
© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
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On the Calendar
The Numerology of the Alter Rebbe, Sarah, and Esther Adapted from the works of Rabbi Levi Yitzchak Schneerson
The 24th of Tevet marks the anniversary of the passing of Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, the founder of Chabad. On this day it is customary to gather for farbrengens, informal chassidic gatherings where Torah thoughts, inspiration and stirring melodies are shared around a festive table.
Rabbi Levi Yitzchak Schneerson—who was a direct descendant of Rabbi Schneur Zalman—wrote extensively about the greatness of his illustrious ancestor, and pointed out how the details of various aspects of his life were in tune with the teachings of the Kabbalah. While the full teaching is beyond the scope of this article, let’s focus on Rabbi Levi Yitzchak’s understanding of the name Schneur Zalman.
The name Schneur (שניאור) contains within it two Hebrew words, שני (two) and אור (light): “two lights.” This is a most appropriate name for a man whose life mission was to teach others the two illuminations of the Torah: the revealed portion of Torah, which is embodied in his Code of Jewish Law; and the hidden Kabbalah, which he espoused in his many chassidic teachings.
Taking it a step further, אור (light) has the numeric value of 207. Adding together “two lights” (207+207) brings us to a total of 414, the numerical value of ואהבת (“and you shall love”).
Indeed, Rabbi Schneur Zalman devoted his life to helping people live the values of “And you shall love the L‑rd your G‑d” and “And you shall love your fellow like yourself,” as well as a love for the Torah and a love for the Land of Israel, which he actively supported through the Colel Chabad charity he led.
Interestingly, Abraham our forefather was also associated with these same qualities of love and light. Isaiah, speaking in G‑d’s name, refers to him as “Abraham, My lover,” and the Midrash tells us how he brought light to the world, saying, “Until Abraham, the world functioned in darkness; Abraham came and began to shed light.”
If the two lights of Schneur are associated with Abraham, then the name Zalman must connect with Sarah, his wife.
Sarah is the only woman in the entire Torah whose age is recorded: 127 years, a number that the Kabbalists explain denotes perfection and achievement. And you guessed it: Zalman (זלמן) has the numerical value of 127.
Now, the 127 years of Sarah’s life were not all identical. There were the first 90 years before G‑d blessed her with a child, and then there were the last 37 years, when she raised her son Isaac, fulfilling her essential role as a mother of our people.
The name Zalman (זלמן) can be divided neatly into these two halves: זל=37, and מן=90.
One last facet:
The 127 years of Sarah came into play a thousand years later, when Ahasuerus, who eventually married Esther, ruled over 127 countries. Why 127? The Midrash fills us in:
Why did Esther merit to rule over 127 countries? Said G‑d: “Let Esther, the descendant of Sarah who lived 127 years, come and rule over 127 lands.”1
Concerning Esther, the Megillah tells us that she was taken to the king’s palace to be queen in the month of Tevet. Quite appropriately, Rabbi Schneur Zalman (whose connection to Esther is expressed in the number 127) was taken to G‑d’s supernal palace on the 24th of Tevet.
Rabbi Levi Yitzchak Schneerson (1878–1944) was a mystic and scholar who wrote commentaries on the most esoteric texts. As rabbi of a major Ukrainian city, he struggled valiantly to strengthen Judaism, in spite of Soviet persecution.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.
FOOTNOTES
1. Esther Rabbah 1:8.
© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
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On the Calendar
Toil of the Mind and Heart
By Eli Rubin
This article was originally published on the Seforim Blog in memory of the acclaimed Chabad scholar Rabbi Yehoshua Mondshine, marking the first anniversary of his passing.1
Abstract: A new anthology mines the oral teachings of Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi for new insight into the historical development of his leadership and the crystallization of his ideology, and also charts the impact of Rabbi Shlomo of Karlin and Rabbi Avraham of Kalisk on the emergence of Chabad as a distinct Chassidic movement. “HaRav: On the Tanya, Chabad thought, the path, leadership and disciples of Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi” ed. Rabbi Nochum Grunwald, Hebrew, 798 pp. (Mechon HaRav, 2015).
Introduction - From Liozna to Liadi
The past few years have seen many new publications shedding light on the life and times of Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, founder of the Chabad school of Chassidism, and making his teachings more accessible.2For the most part, however, the historical and the ideological domains have been treated in relative isolation from one another. Moreover, while R. Schneur Zalman’s magnum opus, Tanya, has been a frequent object of study, less work has been done on the vast corpus of his oral teachings, transcriptions of which now fill some thirty published volumes.3
HaRav: On the Tanya, Chabad thought, the path, leadership and disciples of Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, appeared just a few months ago as a rather belated marker of the 200th year since Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s passing on the 24th of Tevet 5772 (January 1813),4 and comprises a collection of articles, teachings and commentary, on the topics referred to in the volume's subtitle. Rabbi Nochum Grunwald, the volume's editor and primary contributor, is a leading Chabad thinker and historian, and the editor of the Heichal HaBesht journal. Other contributors include Chabad scholars Rabbi DovBer Levine, Rabbi Eliyahu Matusof, Rabbi Aharon Chitrik, and le-havdil bein chaim le-chaim, the late Rabbi Yehoshua Mondshine.
Of the volume’s six sections, it is the third—Shaar Ha-Maamarim, focusing on R. Schneur Zalman’s oral teachings—that is the most substantial, in terms of both quantity and content. In a loose series of articles, the volume’s editor, Rabbi Nochum Grunwald, takes several important steps towards the integration of the ideological content of these discourses within a broader historiographical context, giving particular attention to Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s relationship with Rabbi Avraham of Kalisk.
An article by Rabbi Shalom DovBer Levine—in the volume’s penultimate section—traces the impact of Rabbi Shlomo of Karlin on Chabad’s emergence as a distinct school of Chassidism, adding additional dimension to the developing picture.5
Grunwald’s overarching thesis pivots on Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s move from Liozna (90km North-West of Smolensk) to Liadi (Lyady, 70km southwest of Smolensk), shortly after being released from his second internment in Petersburg in the summer of 1801.6 The precise reasons for this move remain unclear, but the distinction between the Liozna and Liadi periods—also referred to as the periods “before Petersburg” and “after Petersburg”—appears in a variety of Chabad historiographic traditions to mark an array of changes in his role as a leader and teacher of Chassidism. As one source has it, “when he dwelt in Liozna the quality of emotion toward G‑d radiated from him, whereas afterwards, when he dwelt in Liadi, it was not so; there the quality of intellect radiated from him.”7
Grunwald’s discussion of how this shift developed is complicated by Levine’s account. And though their parallel theses are both presented in the present volume, it remains the task of the reader to integrate them.
Transcendence and Interiority
In a 1903 talk delivered by Rabbi Shalom DovBer Schneersohn (Rashab), the fifth rebbe of Chabad-Lubavitch, he distinguished between the type of teaching that entirely transcends [מקיף] the students/listeners, but overwhelms, encompasses and transforms them instantaneously, and between the type of teaching that is directed to the interiority [פנימיות] of the students/listeners, to permeate their intellects, so that they can then transform themselves from within:
- Before he returned from Petersburg the second time his Chassidic teaching would burn the world, for it was of transcendent quality… there was no one who would hear Chassidic teachings from him and remain in their previous condition. But after Petersburg it changed and it wasn’t so, because then… the Chassidic teachings began to be of internal quality… Through the accusations that were in Petersburg the interiority specifically was revealed…
- Before this… the Chassidic teachings were specifically of transcendent quality… which causes very intense inspiration, and such examples are also found in Likutei Torah… But the ultimate intention is the quality of interiority specifically, for with the coming of Moshiach specifically the interiority will be revealed… and the quality and advantage of interiority is achieved specifically through great and extremely immense toil… with service of the mind and the heart…8
Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s preoccupation with this challenge is clear from Tanya, which began circulating in the early 1790s and was published in 1796. This work, as described in the author’s introduction, is comprised of “answers to many questions, asked in search of counsel… in the service of G‑d.”12 As Grunwald notes, Tanya is a systematic presentation of the solutions and advice that its author provided in private audiences (yechidut) on an individualized and more immediate basis. “During this period,” Grunwald concludes, “the distinction between private audiences and the oral delivery of Torah was almost non-existent.”13
The purpose of the oral teachings during the earlier period, accordingly, was to directly inspire religious transformation by providing practical direction and immediately applicable solutions. They therefore do not digress into involved discussion of complex theoretical questions and abstractions,14 nor do they linger on the stylistic niceties of orderly progression.15 Instead they drive directly to the point, emphasizing it with sharp language16 and vivid imagery,17 and uncompromisingly demanding utter submission to the exclusive reality of divine being (“ain od milvado”). In the earlier period, Grunwald notes, such Chassidic exhortations “are not complicated by a mantle of explanation or justification, but are [delivered] straight… penetrating the gut.”18
In the later period, conversely, Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s oral teachings were often devoted to the theoretical explanation of a particular concept or issue, or to several related concepts. Here we find detailed and orderly expositions on the nature and purpose of the Torah and the mitzvot generally, or of particular mitzvot and festivals, as well as on complex Kabbalistic ideas. “In the extant discourses [from before Petersburg],” Grunwald writes, “it is almost impossible to find a delivery that is dedicated entirely to the clarification of an aspect of the cosmic chain of being [seder hishtalshalut], in order for it to be understood in depth and in conceptualized form. As a case in point, after Petersburg Rabbi Schneur Zalman delivered a discourse on the topic of ohr ain sof and tzimtzum nearly every year… but before Petersburg we don’t find anything like this at all.”19
Grunwald acknowledges that this distinction is a generalization, that in each period one can find anomalies, and that there is far more to say about the development of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s oral teachings with the passing years. But the distinct and rather rapid change in emphasis is clear enough to demand a broader historiographical explanation. The question is sharpened when we consider that the second part of Tanya,Shaar Ha-yichud Ve-he-emunah, which was circulated and published during the earlier period, does provide a systematic and thorough account of the unity and singularity of divine being, vis-à-vis the created realms. The orderly conceptualization and contemplation of esoteric concepts was already then a fundamental element of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s approach to the service of G‑d.20 (So fundamental, in fact, that—as discussed elsewhere in the present volume—Rabbi Schneur Zalman originally intended Shaar Ha-Yichud to be the first section of Tanya, rather than the second.21) Why then do we not find more of this kind of material in the oral teachings dating from this era?
The Making of a Tzaddik22
Conventionally, the onset of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s leadership—and the establishment of Chabad as a distinct school of Chassidic thought and practice—is dated to 1783, when he settled in Liozna, or to 1786, when Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Vitebsk and Rabbi Avraham of Kalisk wrote from the Holy Land prevailing upon him “to draw close the hearts of the faithful of Israel, to teach them understanding and knowledge of G‑d.”23 Grunwald, however, argues that throughout the Liozna period Rabbi Schneur Zalman continued to see himself—not as an independent leader of a Chassidic community, nor as a tzaddik in his own right, but rather—as a personal mentor and guide acting as the appointed representative of the Chassidic leaders in the Holy Land.24
One source that Grunwald would have done well to cite to strengthen and crystalize this nuanced conception of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s role is a 1786 letter by Rabbi Avraham responding to the complaint of the Chassidic community in the region of Lithuania and Belarus—which, along with Rabbi Menachem Mendel, he continued to lead from afar—that they were unable to hear Torah directly from the mouths of the tzaddikim in the Holy Land. Rabbi Avraham instructs them to focus less on their desire to hear new wisdom, and more on the practicalities of action:
If only you would place action before hearing, and our sages already said (Avot, Chapter 3) “Anyone whose wisdom is more than their actions etc. [their wisdom will not hold.]” And in my opinion it is tried and tested that too much wisdom is detrimental to action… Commit your eyes and heart to one thing of Chassidic teachings that you have heard, and strengthen it with nails that it should be imprinted and dug into your heart… and due to this you climb and ascend… to exile materiality bit by bit…
And as for action you have a master, our honored friend and beloved, the beloved of G‑d, precious light… our teacher the rabbi, Shneur Zalman… filled with the glory of G‑d, with spirit, wisdom, understanding and knowledge to show you the path…25
Strikingly, Rabbi Avraham encouraged the Chassidic community to turn to Rabbi Schneur Zalman only as a master of “action,” as one who can guide them along the methodological “path” of practical service, but not as an independent tzaddik from whom to “hear” new wisdom.26 More than a decade later Rabbi Avraham’s opinion “that too much wisdom is detrimental to action” would become a cause of contention between him and Rabbi Schneur Zalman.27 Yet, even following the passing of Rabbi Menachem Mendel in 1788, and even as the crowds seeking Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s counsel turned Liozna into a bustling Chassidic court, the latter continued to restrict his instruction to the practicalities of actual service of G‑d. In his introduction to Tanya too, in the same breath that he emphasizes that its content consists entirely of “answers to many questions, asked in search of advice… in the service of G‑d” he continues to emphasize his deference and debt to “our masters in the Holy Land.”28
But not all Chassidim in the region were so eager to accept Rabbi Schneur Zalman as their mentor. A strong contingent looked for guidance and inspiration to his contemporary, Rabbi Shlomo of Karlin, who emphasized ecstatic faith and the centrality of the tzaddik, and was famed as a seer and wonderworker. As documented by Levine—following the earlier work of Rabbi Avraham Abish Shor—Karliner loyalists persistently lobbied the tzaddikim in the Holy Land to appoint Rabbi Shlomo in Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s place, or to allow them to travel to visit him in Ludmir, Galicia, where he settled circa 1786. Such agitation was consistently rebuffed, but never entirely quelled.29 Rabbi Shlomo was shot by marauding Cossacks in 1792, and the Karlin legacy was continued by Rabbi Asher of Stolin and Rabbi Mordechai of Lechevitch.30Despite the relative peace that reigned during this period, Rabbi Avraham continued to exhort the Chassidim to seek counsel from Rabbi Schneur Zalman alone into the early months of 1797, when he had apparently not yet seen the recently published Tanya.31
The period from 1788 to 1797 is described by Grunwald as an intermediate one, in which Rabbi Schneur Zalman came to ever increasing prominence and also crystallized the distinctly systematic approach to the service of G‑d presented and published in Tanya. Neither by restricting himself to topics directly related to practical worship, nor by describing himself as a “compiler” (melaket) of a “collection of sayings”—rather than as the author of an independent work of Chassidic thought and instruction—was he able to mask the originality of his approach. No reader of the Tanya can evade the primacy given to intellectual contemplation, to toil of the mind, as the fundamental basis of heartfelt service and actual practice, a primacy that is further underscored by the discussion of divine unity in Shaar Ha-yichud Ve-ha-emunah.32
As Levine explains, the crystallization of this systematic methodology to the point of publication was seized by Karliner loyalists as an opportunity to press their case before Rabbi Avraham of Kalisk, eliciting his sharp critique of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s path in a series of letters penned between the latter part of 1797 and the summer of 1798.33 Paradoxically, it was precisely this critique that led to Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s emergence as a Chassidic leader of a different stripe, and ultimately as an autonomous tzaddik in the fullest sense of the term.
In Grunwald’s words:
Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s two great confrontations, with Rabbi Avraham on the doctrine of Chabad, and with the Lithuanian Mitnagdim on the doctrine of Chassidism, transpired and erupted at approximately the same time. The period from 1798 [when he was first arrested and taken to Petersburg on Mitnagdic charges of treason] until after the second imprisonment marked the birth pangs that brought forth the shining era of the Chabad doctrine and Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s leadership… It is due to this [difficult] period that we merited the doctrine of Chabad in all its greatness and depth.34
According to Grunwald the distinction between the Liozna and Liadi periods is far greater than has previously been understood. Much has been made of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s unwillingness to deal with the worldly concerns (mili de’alma) of his constituents, and of the rules he imposed to regulate the throngs who traveled to Liozna to meet with him and receive spiritual guidance in person (takonat liozna).35 But according to Grunwald the documentary record attests that these kinds of restrictions were only imposed during the Liozna period, when Rabbi Schneur Zalman insisted that his role was only that of a spiritual guide.36 In the Liadi period, when he no longer acted as a personal mentor and took on the full responsibility of autonomous leadership, he no longer protested against those who came to him with their worldly concerns, and imposed no regulations on those who wished to come and hear Torah from his lips.37
The focus of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s leadership now shifted from the personal to the public, from direct inspiration and methodological instruction, to the coherent formulation, explanation and dissemination of a theoretical edifice accessible enough to be studied, assimilated and acted upon by every aspiring Chassid. It was only after Petersburg that Rabbi Schneur Zalman began delivering oral teachings each and every week, and often several times in a single week. It was in the later period too that new emphasis was placed on the systematic transcription of these teachings not only by Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s brother, Rabbi Yehudah Leib, but also by the former’s sons Rabbi DovBer (the Mitteler Rebbe) and Rabbi Moshe, his grandson Rabbi Menachem Mendel (the Tzemach Tzedek), as well as by noted Chassidim such as Rabbi Pinchas Reitzes. These teachings were not simply instructive or inspirational, each was a new window onto the transcendent philosophy of Chabad, to be carefully preserved, reviewed, studied, assimilated and applied, transforming the Chassid from within.38
Cerebral Love
According to Grunwald, the theoretical emphasis that emerged in the Liadi period also constituted a substantial shift in Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s approach to prayer, and, more broadly, to the service of G‑d with love and awe.39
In Tanya, Chapter 16, Rabbi Schneur Zalman distinguishes between love that is revealed openly in one’s heart, “so that one’s heart burns like flaming fire, and desires with heartfelt fervor, longing and yearning,” and love “that is hidden in the mind and concealed in the heart.” Both are the product of mindful contemplation of the greatness of G‑d’s infinitude. Both provide the impetus to bind oneself to G‑d through the Torah and its commandments. But the former bursts forth as an emotive outpouring of love (hitgalut ha-lev), while the latter remains “enclosed in the mind and the concealment of the heart” (mesuteret be-mocho ve’taalumat libo). Rabbi Schneur Zalman establishes it as “a fundamental rule in the service of ordinary people (beinonim)” that though open love is apparently more ideal, mere mindful animation is “also” acceptable impetus for Torah study and mitzvah performance “since it is this understanding in one’s mind and the concealment of one’s heart that brings you to toil in them.”
In a later teaching Rabbi Schneur Zalman specifically refers to this passage in Tanya, but argues that a more cerebral experience of love is actually preferable, rather than merely acceptable. For one thing, emotional experience is fleeting while cerebral animation achieves a permanently effective transformation. For another, an open experience of ecstatic love may itself be so spiritually satisfying that one will no longer seek to bind oneself to G‑d through actual Torah study and practice of the commandments.40
Though the text in question bears no date, Grunwald devotes an entire article to a survey of several similar examples, each of which date from the period following the second imprisonment specifically. Yet Grunwald fails to note a fundamental distinction between these two texts: Tanya speaks of an individual whose “intellect and spirit of understanding is insufficient” and consequently suffers from emotional indifference. But the oral teaching he cites clearly addresses an individual who possesses the intellectual and spiritual capacity to experience open love, but is enjoined to use the intellect to exercise emotional discipline in order to cultivate a more pervading experience of submissive subjugation (bitul) before G‑d.41
Contrary to Grunwald’s suggestion, this later text does not present a complete reversal of priorities when compared to Tanya.42 It instead introduces a loftier form of service, through which toil of the heart is further refined rather than abandoned. As Grunwald explains elsewhere, emotional enthusiasm—even when directed towards G‑d—is essentially a form of self-expression and self-affirmation, whereas the Chabad ideal is to internalize the recognition that nothing exists other than G‑d.43 Ecstatic experience can accordingly be counterproductive, and as already mentioned, may well remain limited to the realm of emotion. A loftier—and more thoroughly transformative—mode of worship uses the mind to exercise emotional self-discipline, subduing self-expression and subjecting the entirety of one’s being to the mindful apprehension of divinity and the practical service of G‑d.44
The distinctions are perhaps not as sharp as Grunwald portrays them, but the shift is certainly a real one. In the earlier period Rabbi Schneur Zalman instructed his disciples to use their intellectual capacities to inspire emotional expression and exuberance (as reflected in Tanya). In the later period he taught them to cultivate a more contained and constant form of internal animation, channeling mindful enthusiasm directly into the practical service of G‑d—Torah study and mitzvah performance—rather than allowing it to overflow into the heart unbridled.45
A related point, addressed in a different article, is the debate between Rabbi Schneur Zalman and Rabbi Avraham of Kalisk on the complex relationship between faith and knowledge. In 1805 the former delivered a series of discourses on the topic, elicited by the latter’s renewed critique, and Grunwald’s rich treatment of the sources further underscores the centrality of such theoretical issues in Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s later teachings.46
As we have seen, the transition between the Liozna and Liadi periods was rooted in the parting of ways that transpired between Rabbi Schneur Zalman and Rabbi Avraham. One result of this transition—Grunwald further argues—was the subsequent parting of ways between Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s oldest son, Rabbi DovBer of Lubavitch, and his foremost disciple, Rabbi Aharon of Strashelye. As has been most extensively described by Naftali Loewenthal, these two personalities clashed precisely over the question of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s approach to emotional enthusiasm, particularly during prayer.47 Rabbi Aharon first came to Liozna at the age of 17, shortly after Rabbi Schneur Zalman settled there in 1783. Rabbi DovBer would have been less than ten years old at the time, and he did not begin transcribing his father's teachings until 1798—that is, at the very end of the Liozna period. Grunwald accordingly asserts that the eras in which they each matured as students of Rabbi Schneur Zalman can be broadly distinguished along the lines of their later disagreement.48 While this claim rings true, it is complicated by the facts that Rabbi Aharon and Rabbi DovBer were close associates for many years, and that by 1798 the later would already have been 25 years old.49
Grunwald enriches his analysis of the relevant transcripts with several recollections and comments of the Tzemach Tzedek.50 One example is a note in the latter’s own hand, appended to a teaching in which Rabbi Schneur Zalman categorically rejects any emotionalism, preferring the cerebral approach “even if it is only superficial and somatic… with very brief contemplation, and coldness…” The Tzemach Tzedek recalls that this extreme formulation was directed towards a particular individual whose enthusiastic conduct needed to be reined in, and was not necessarily intended to be applied more generally. More applicable is the general thrust of this teaching, which gives ultimate primacy to “the quality and substance of internal subjugation (bitul) in the mind and heart, in the aspect of prostration… without any detectable movement.”51Another source records that seeing the Tzemach Tzedek’s note, one of his grandsons asked him if the specific individual referred to was Rabbi Aharon of Strashelye: “And his grandfather answered him… G‑d forbid! I was not thinking of him, for he experienced G‑dly enthusiasm…”52 Grunwald relates this remark to a distinction drawn by Rabbi Schneur Zalman himself between the worship of an ordinary individual and that of a tzaddik, who is not susceptible to the pitfalls of ecstatic love and emotional enthusiasm. Regarding the difference between Rabbi DovBer and Rabbi Aharon, he refers to the vivid image provided by the Rebbe Rashab:
Like a burning stick of hay. When it is dry it burns with a flame. It burns through and nothing remains. [Such was the service of Rabbi Aharon] But when it contains moisture its substance is entirely burnt through, and yet [its form] remains standing. Touch it. It is nothing. Yet the form stands. Such was the Mitteler Rebbe [Rabbi DovBer]. This is the love of glowing flame, an all-consuming fire, yet the form stands.53
Of Angels and Other Things
Notable both for its topical interest and for the broader significance of its central point is an analysis of the treatment of angels in Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s teachings by Rabbi Aharon Chitrik. “Chabad teachings… present comprehensive and deep explanations, extending to very specific details of the nature of angels: their creation, their character, their station, their role, their subjugation to G‑d, prayer and song, their constant service, their free-will or lack thereof, etc. etc.” But these discussions, Chitrik convincingly demonstrates, do not reflect any intrinsic interest in angels at all. Angels are only the focus of such intense discussion as a counterpoint from which we can achieve a better understanding of the unique nature of the Jewish soul, and its mission on this physical earth.54 In an 1804 discourse explicating this point, Rabbi Schneur Zalman extends this principle to all Kabbalistic discussions of the cosmic chain of supernal realms: Ultimately all such theoretical investigations are but a stepping stone to achieve direct knowledge of G‑d’s essence.55
Two additional articles are devoted to the Tzemach Tzedek’s intensive engagement with his grandfather’s discourses, firstly from a theoretical perspective,56 and secondly as editor and publisher of Torah Ohr andLikutei Torah.57 In Grunwald’s apt and illuminating formulation, the Tzemach Tzedek is to Rabbi Schneur Zalman as the Tosafists are to the Talmud Bavli: Surveying Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s different treatments of the same or related topics, the Tzemach Tzedek seeks to compare them and combine them, ironing out apparent conflicts through innovative explanation, differentiation, and harmonization, and also to contextualize the former’s teachings within the broader Jewish tradition of philosophical and mystical thought.58
For all the rich depth, analysis and insight of Grunwald’s scholarship, his work in this volume tends to suffer from a certain looseness of form. Moving from text to context, from observation and analysis to elaboration and speculation, order and balance is sometimes lost; some points are too often repeated, others scattered in footnotes or hardly developed at all. His article on the Midrashic notion of “a dwelling in the lower realms,” as developed in Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s thought, abounds with relevant sources, thoughtful comparisons and observations. Yet it runs to nearly sixty pages and reads more like a voluminous draft than a tightly argued thesis.59
At the outset, Grunwald takes stock of the various perspectives within the Jewish tradition from which the purpose of the Torah and its commandments can be viewed—the Halachic, the philosophic and the kabbalistic—before proceeding to the unique contribution of Chassidism. Self admittedly his analysis is too sweeping. But it could also be better grounded in the relevant texts.60 His conclusion that the Chassidic object of “a dwelling in the lower realms” is tied to the revelation of divine unity is in particular need of justification and elaboration. His initial discussion of the philosophical purpose of the Torah and its commandments similarly highlighted divine unity, a point that will further confuse many readers. The Rebbe Rashab explicitly discussed the Chassidic renewal of this midrashic conception in terms of its relationship with philosophical and kabbalistic approaches, and Grunwald is as familiar as anyone with the relevant sources. But it is not till footnote 99 that the first discourse of Yom Tov Shel Rosh Hashanah 5666 (“Samach Vav”) makes an appearance.61
Given the immensity of Grunwald’s project, as editor of this volume and its chief contributor, he is to be applauded for his successful effort to share such a great wealth of information and insight. Nevertheless, in several instances Grunwald’s arguments would have been substantively enhanced if he had the time and resources to ensure that they were composed and constructed with more orderliness and concision. In fact, the more one delves into his work, the more one can envision all that remains to be written. Many a brief note, expanded into a fully developed thesis, could be the topic of an independent article.62
Moving beyond the direct transcripts of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s oral teachings, the volume includes a substantial collection of short sayings and teachings attributed to R. Schneur Zalman in a wide variety of secondary sources.63 A second collection draws exclusively on the oeuvre of Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn of Lubavitch (1880-1950), whose journals, letters and private talks preserve a rich reservoir of anecdotes and historiographical data passed down from the first generation of Chabad.64 Both of these rich collections were compiled by Grunwald and benefit greatly from his critical notes, comments and citations.
Also included in this volume is a newly edited edition of the seminal commentary to Tanya by one of the principal educators in the original Yeshiva Tomchei Temimim, Lubavitch—Rabbi Shmuel Groinem Estherman (d. 1921).65 Even in its as yet incomplete form this is a substantial text, which bears study and review in its own right. Another article gathers information on the period spent by Rabbi Schneur Zalman in Mohyliv-Podil’s’kyi on the River Dniester, following Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Vitebsk’s ascent to the Holy Land.66 Similar articles are devoted to some of the former’s Chassidim, including, but not limited to, the well-known Rabbi Binyamin of Kletzk67 and the lesser known —but perhaps equally influential, and certainly more intriguingly named—Rabbi Dovid Shvartz-Tuma.68
Subjective Transformation
Although the importance of Halacha for Rabbi Schneur Zalman and his work as a legal authority receives little attention in this volume, there are two notable exceptions. The first is Grunwald’s discussion of the relationship between the legal focus on physical activity and the mystical/Midrashic notion that G‑d desired a dwelling in the physical realms specifically.69 The second is a discussion by Rabbi Noach Green juxtaposing the objective rule of law in cases of monetary disputation with a more subjective process of arbitration and compromise. Rabbi Schneur Zalman preferred the subjective approach in practice, and also devoted several discourses to the mystical basis of that preference, explaining that this was the surer way of transforming our lowly environment into a “dwelling” for G‑d.70 As Green puts it: “The truth of Torah is imposed objectively, without actually refining the lowly material. Whereas the kindness of Torah is in accord with the nature of creation, and comes to refine the material as it is.”71
This preference—for subjective transformation rather than submissive acceptance of objective law—correlates with the ultimate focus of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s broader educational project. As we have seen, during the Liadi period his teachings delved deeply into the most esoteric of kabbalistic doctrines. But their purpose was ultimately focused on the conjunction of the highest highs and the lowest lows: direct knowledge of G‑d’s essence and the physical practice of the commandments. As is often noted in Chabad teachings, this overcoming of the cosmic hierarchy will only be accomplished fully with the advent of the messianic era. But the period of the exile is not merely a ceaseless struggle between our reality and our ideals, and messianic revelation is not simply bestowed from above. As Rabbi Schneur Zalman asserts in Tanya, it is achieved through our subjective toil throughout the era of exile.72
But the question remains to be asked: Why did Rabbi Schneur Zalman place such an emphasis on the assimilation and contemplation of theoretical ideals, which most of us cannot yet adequately replicate in practice? Why did he not restrict his instruction to the more directly attainable elements of divine service, as he had in the Liozna period?
A fascinating array of sources related to these questions are collected in another article by Grunwald.73 One example attributes the following distinction between toil of the heart and toil of the mind to Rabbi Schneur Zalman: G‑d promises that with the messianic advent “I shall remove the heart of stone… and give you a heart of flesh,” but nothing similar is said of the mind. In the realm of the heart, of emotional inspiration and refinement, we may ultimately rely on divine intervention. But we must first ready ourselves for such revelation intellectually, independently toiling to “subjectively assimilate, and affix in our minds, all the stations that will be achieved with the messianic advent.”74
Grunwald argues that for Rabbi Schnuer Zalman this kind of intellectual work isn’t simply a technical condition to the messianic revelation. It is actually central to his vision of such revelation as something achieved through human toil, through the subjective transformation of our lowly reality into a lofty messianic state. It is only if we have internally readied ourselves that the messianic advent can be complete, with the mindful quality of interiority openly spilling over into our hearts.75 In the words of the Rashab, cited earlier in this article: “The ultimate intention is the quality of interiority specifically, for with the coming of Moshiach specifically the interiority will be revealed…”76
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.
FOOTNOTES
1. On Mondshine’s life and work see Eli Rubin, “Rabbi Yehoshua Mondshine, 67, Acclaimed Scholar and Author, Passes Away in Jerusalem,” Chabad.org (25 December 2014), available here. See also David Assaf, “Avad Chassid Min Ha-aretz,” Oneg Shabbat blog (26 December 2014), available here. As originally posted on the Seforim blog (December 13, 2015, available here) this essay was titled “Toil of the Mind and Heart: A Meditation in Memory of Rabbi Yehoshua Mondshine.”
2. Notably, the new and improved edition of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s Igrot Kodesh (Kehot Publication Society, 2012), edited by Rabbi Shalom DovBer Levine, and the still ongoing publication of all extant transcripts of Rabbi Shneur Zalman’s oral discourses in the multi volume series Maamarei Admur Ha-zaken. See also Rabbi Shalom DovBer Levine, Toldot Chabad Be-russia Ha-tzaarit (Kehot Publication Society, 2010), and Rabbi Yehoshua Mondshine, Masa Barditchev (2010), Ha-maasar Ha-rishon (2012) and Ha-masa Ha-acharon (2012), among other works. In English see, most recently, Immanuel Etkes, Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liady: The Origins of the Chabad School (Waltham, Mass.: Brandeis University Press, 2015). While this is a valuable introductory work that takes advantage of first-hand documentary sources, I have noted elsewhere that its scope is rather limited. See Eli Rubin, “Making Chasidism Accessible: How Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi Successfully Preserved and Perpetuated the Teachings of The Baal Shem Tov,” Chabad.org (10 September 2012), available here. The shortcoming of that work are further highlighted when compared with the insights offered of the present volume. See my related comment below, note three. For an earlier, but in many ways broader, more complex and more insightful work see Naftali Loewenthal, Communicating the Infinite: The Emergence of the Chabad School (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1990). For a partial review of recent publications see Eli Rubin, “The Rabbi Who Defied Napoleon and Made Mysticism Accessible: New publications illuminate the life and legacy of Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi,” Chabad.org (11 January 2013), available here.
3. For an important exception see Loewenthal, Communicating the Infinite, 66-76 and 117-119. Though relatively brief, Loewenthal’s discussion is well grounded in the primary sources, and in several ways prefigures insights that are presented with far more elaboration in the present work. Another important work is Roman A. Foxbrunner, Habad: The Hasidism of R. Shneur Zalman of Lyady (University of Albama Press, 1992), which takes stock of some important aspects of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s teachings through a particularly wide analysis of the oral, as well as written, teachings. In certain respects this work similarly prefigures the present volume, but without the diachronic dimensions that will here be highlighted. For further treatments see Eli Rubin, “The Future is Now: Assorted reflections on the oral teachings of Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi,” Chabad-Revisited (30 November 2015), available here, and Jonathan Garb, “The Early Writings of Rashaz,” delivered at Johns Hopkins University, April 2015, and available online here. Etkes’ fleeting discussion of the oral teachings (Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liady, 50-54) relies on secondary sources, and at one point (note 93) confuses Rabbi Schneur Zalman with his great grandson, Rabbi Chaim Schneur Zalman of Liadi. It should be noted that none of these sources, including the present volume, address the two volumes of discourses published by Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s son, Rabbi DovBer: Siddur Tefilot Mi-kol Ha-shana Im Pirush Hamilot Al Pi Dach (Kopust, 1816), online here, and Bi’urei Ha-zohar (Kopust, 1816), online here. See also Elliot R. Wolfson, Open Secret: Postmessianic Messianism and the Mystical Revision of Menahem Mendel Schneerson (New York: Columbia University Press, 2009), where many texts by Rabbi Schneur Zalman are contextualized within a discussion of the thought of Chabad’s seventh Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson; Elliot R. Wolfson, A Dream Interpreted Within a Dream: A Dream Interpreted within a Dream: Oneiropoiesis and the Prism of Imagination (Cambridge, MA: Zone Books, 2011), 197-217. For more on Wolfson's oeuvre, see Joey Rosenfeld,“Dorshei Yichudcha: A Portrait of Professor Elliot R. Wolfson,” the Seforim blog (21 July 2015), available here.
4. Such belatedness seems to be something of a custom with such publications. In the introduction to the present volume (p. 15) reference is made to Sefer HaKan, a collection of articles on Rabbi Schneur Zalman that was intended to mark the 150th year since his passing in 1962, but which did not appear till the beginning of 1970, and is available online here.
5. For the relationship with Rabbi Avraham see Loewenthal, Communicating the Infinite, 51-54 and 77-90; Nehemia Polen, “Charismatic Leader, Charismatic Book: Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s Tanya and His Leadership,” in Suzanne Last Stone, ed., Rabbinic and Lay Communal Authority (New York: Yeshiva University Press, 2006), 60-61; Immanuel Etkes, Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liady: The Origins of the Chabad School (Waltham, Mass.: Brandeis University Press, 2015), 209-258. On the relationship with Rabbi Shlomo see the articles of Rabbi Avraham Abish Shor, as cited specifically below.
6. See Rabbi Meir Chaim Hillman, Beis Rebbi (Berditchev, 1902), Part 1, Chapter 20, note 5. See also the account in Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn, Igrot Kodesh Vol. 3 (Kehot Publication Society, 1983), 444-445.
7. Cited in HaRav, 401, and attributed to Rabbi Shlomo Zalman of Kopust in the name of his grandfather, the Tzemach Tzedek.
8. Rabbi Shalom DovBer Schneersohn, Torat Shalom (Kehot Publication Society, 1970), 26.
9. See Loewenthal, Communicating the Infinite, 72-73. Grunwald, HaRav, 402-406.
10. Torat Shalom, 114. Grunwald, HaRav, 412-413.
11. This is the second of the six features described by Grunwald, HaRav, 415-416.
12. Another article in this volume, by the late Rabbi Yehoshua Mondshine (HaRav, 609-650), collects extant accounts of such audiences, providing illuminating glimpses of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s interactions as a personal mentor.
13. HaRav, 415, and at greater length, Ibid., 394-396. See, however, the discussion of Tanya as exoteric in relation to the esoteric aspect expressed in the oral teachings, as cited by Loewenthal, Communicating the Infinite, p. 235-236, note 67.
14. HaRav, 416.
15. HaRav, 415.
16. HaRav, 420-421.
17. HaRav, 416-418. See also Jonathan Garb, “The Early Writings of Rashaz,” delivered at Johns Hopkins University, April 2015, and available online here.
18. HaRav, 413. On this last point see also Loewenthal, Communicating the Infinite, 68. On the stringent demands Rabbi Schneur Zalman attaches to worship of G‑d see Foxbrunner, Habad, 116.
19. HaRav, 415. For an ongoing exploration of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s discussion of ohr ain sof and tzimtzum, on the part of the present writer, see my series here.
20. See HaRav, 430-431.
21. See the extended discussion in HaRav, 361-375.
22. A formulation borrowed from Jonathan Garb, “The Early Writings of Rashaz,” delivered at Johns Hopkins University, April 2015, and available online here.
23. See the introduction to Igrot Kodesh Admur Ha-zaken (Kehot Publication Society, new and improved edition, 2012), 42-43, and sources cited there; Levine, Toldot Chabad Be-russia Ha-tzaarit, 29-31; Loewenthal, Communicating the Infinite, 42; Etkes, Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi, 9-19.
24. HaRav, 391-396. See also pages 421-423 where Grunwald argues that Rabbi Schneur Zalman sought to deemphasize the role of the tzaddik in chassidim altogether. In my view the picture he paints is overly simplistic, and he himself notes that more research is required. As I have argued elsewhere, while Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s understanding of the tzaddik’s role was different to that of other Chassidic leaders, he understood it to be no less central than they; see Eli Rubin, “The Second Refinement and the Role of the Tzaddik: How Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi discovered a new way to serve G‑d,” Chabad.org, available online here. For further comments on the role of the tzadik in Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s teachings see below note 28.
25. As published in Rabbi Aharon Surasky, Yesod Ha-maalah Vol. 2 (Bnei Brak, 2000), 85-86.
26. In a similar vein see Rabbi Avraham Abish Shor, Kovetz Beit Aharon Ve-yisra’el, Issue 167, 137.
27. See the related discussion of this source in Rabbi Avraham Abish Shor, Kovetz Beit Aharon Ve-yisra’el, Issue 157, p. 187).
28. Elsewhere in the present volume, Rabbi Eliyahu Matusof points out that when, in 1806—that is, in the Liadi period—Rabbi Schneur Zalman published a new edition of the Tanya, this reference to “our masters in the Holy Land” was omitted. Both Matusof (HaRav, 344-380) and Grunwald (HaRav, 398, note 30) see this as evidence that the distinction between the earlier and later periods of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s leadership (as described in more detail below) is to be extended to Tanya as well. In the earlier period it served as a proxy for one-on-one mentorship (yechidut). In the later period (when references to yechidut were also omitted from the 1806 edition of Tanya) it was transformed into the foundation of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s broader project to formulate, explain and disseminate the unique theoretical edifice of Chabad in terms that were accessible enough to be studied, assimilated and acted upon by any aspiring Chassid for perpetuity.
Grunwald’s general thrust also provides an important counterbalance to the argument advanced by Nehemia Polen (Charismatic Leader, Charismatic Book, 53-64) that Tanya was designed to craft a balance between control and empowerment, enforcing a rigid structure of social stratification, in which the tzadik is placed on a spiritual plain that the average man (benoni) can never hope to reach. Grunwald’s work complicates this sociological interpretation by demonstrating that during the period of Tanya’s composition the sociological structure of the Chassidic community had not yet been crystallized into distinct hierarchies led by individual tzadikim, but was rather a complex network with a spectrum of different kinds of authorities and leaders, whose homogeneity Rabbi Schneur Zalman did not seek to break. It is my belief that Tanya</>’s portrait of the tzaddik in contrast to the average man is primarily to be read theoretically and psychologically rather than sociologically. That is, it relates to the inner world of man, rather than to the external world of the community. As Polen acknowledges, the entire distinction between the tzaddik and the beinoni is such that outwardly the latter may be mistaken for the former. Tanya does discuss the role of the tzadik within the community, but it primarily does so using the terms “wise men” (chachamim), “Torah scholars” (talmidei chachamim), “wise men of the generation” (chachmei ha-dor</>), and “visionaries of the community” (enei ha-edah), which carry more obvious degrees of social implication. This claim, I believe, is borne out by the sources discussed in my article, as cited above, note 24. Moreover, the plural tense of these terms better reflects the less stratified sociological reality of the time.
29. Levine, HaRav, 661-684; See also the important series of articles by Rabbi Avraham Abish Shor, “Karlin Be-tekufat Galut”, in Kovetz Beit Aharon Ve-yisra’el, as cited by Levine, Ibid., 662, note 9.
30. See Rabbi Avraham Abish Shor, “Al Harigato Shel Moshiach Hashem,” in Kovetz Beit Aharon Ve-yisra’el, Issues 39, 39 and 40.
31. Levine, HaRav, 668-669. During this more peaceful period a match was arranged between Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s widowed son-in-law—Rabbi Shalom Shachne, father of the Tzemach Tzedek of Lubavitch—and Rivka Rivla, the sister of Rabbi Asher of Stolin. See Shor,Kovetz Beit Aharon Ve-yisra’el, Issue 162, p. 139-140.
32. See the relevant discussions in HaRav, 426-431; Immanuel Etkes, Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liady, 98-100; Jonathan Garb, Yearnings of the Soul (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2015), 50-57. This last source is particularly notable for its emphasis on the respective roles of the mind and the heart in Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s teachings, which is also the broader theme of the present essay.
33. Levine, HaRav, 670-672. See the excerpts appended to Igrot Kodesh Admur Ha-zaken (Kehot Publication Society, new and improved edition, 2012), 496, 498-500.
34. HaRav, 400. The coincidence of these two ruptures is underscored in a letter by Rabbi Schneur Zalman noting his inability to respond to Rabbi Avraham’s critique until circa 1799-1800, due “to the distress of the times,” referring to his arrest. See Igrot Kodesh Admur Ha-zaken, 341; HaRav, 672.
35. See the editor's Introduction to Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi (ed. Rabbi DovBer Levine), Igrot Kodesh (Kehot Publication Society, new and improved edition, 2012), 35-37.
36. With regard to mili de’alma see HaRav, 391, note 13; 409-410. With regard to takonat liozna see HaRav, 398, note 29; 408, note 65. See also Levine, Toldot Chabad Be-russia Ha-tzaarit, 36.
37. In one of the very last texts penned by Rabbi Schneur Zalman before his passing he even went so far as to justify and explain this central link between material concerns and the spiritual service of G‑d. See sources cited and discussed in the editor's Introduction to Igrot Kodesh, 39. See also Yanki Tauber, “The Physical World According to Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi,” Chabad.org, available here.
38. HaRav, 396-398; 388-389, note 6. See also the discussion by Shor, Kovetz Beit Aharon Ve-yisra’el, Issue 172, 151-152. Loewenthal, Communicating the Infinite, 71-77. For a similar shift in the role that Tanya came to play in this period see above, note 28.
39. For Grunwald’s extended discussion see HaRav, 432-461. See also Loewenthal, Communicating the Infinite, 75-77 and 117-119. For a particularly extensive discussion of the nature and role of love and awe in Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s teachings see Foxbrunner, Habad, 178-194.
40. Maamarei Admur Ha-zaken Al Maamarei Chazal, 94. HaRav, 453-454. See also Foxbrunner, Habad, 186.
41. My thanks go to Rabbi Avraham Altein for bringing this distinction to my attention, and for providing other important comments and citations.
42. HaRav, 438-552.
43. HaRav, 433-434. See also Foxbrunner, Habad, 185.
44. In a discourse delivered in the autumn of 1799 (Maamarei Admur Ha-zaken Ketuvim Vol. 1, 67 [96]), in between the first and second imprisonments (and misleadingly described by Grunwald as “the very beginning of the period following Petersburg”), Rabbi Schneur Zalman describes how to cultivate this cerebral form of love. It is noteworthy that this contemplation is explicitly directed from the mind to the heart:
“Speak to your heart quietly and coolly, which is the opposite of the heated movement of the heart… Settled mindfulness (yishuv ha-daat) is cool, without any movement, and you shall delve deeply into settled mindfulness with ease and calm (be-nachat), and say to your heart: ‘The infinite revelation of G‑d creates [existence], something from nothing, at every moment, it is clear in my intellect that this is so… If so how can I be separate [from G‑d]? And [how can] all my thoughts and the capacities of my soul not constantly be cleaving to G‑d… ?”
45. See also Loewenthal, Ibid., where similar arguments are made drawing on additional textual examples. Loewenthal also demonstrates an increased focus on abnegation (bitul) in contrast to emotionalism.
46. HaRav, 473-505. See also Levine, HaRav, 675-684. Levine, Introduction to Igrot Kodesh, 49, points out that the year 1805 is when the term “Chabad” comes into use as a way of expressly distinguishing the followers of Rabbi Schneur Zalman from those of other Chassidic leaders.
47. Loewenthal, Communicating the Infinite, 100-138, and 167-174 and 195. See also Hillman, Beis Rebbi, Part 1, Chapter 26, and Louis Jacobs, Tract on Ecstasy (Vallentine Mitchell, 1963); Louis Jacobs, Seeker of Unity: The Life and Works of Aharon of Starosselje (Vallentine Mitchell, 1966). For more recent comments on Rabbi DovBer, Rabbi Aaron and the interrelationship of their thought see Wolfson, A Dream Interpreted Within a Dream, 210-214, and Garb, Yearnings of the Soul, 56-57.
48. HaRav, 432-438.
49. See also the accounts transmitted by Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn in Igrot Kodesh Vol. 3 (Kehot Publication Society, 1983), 477; and in Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, Reshimot Ha-yoman (Kehot Publication Society, 2006), 367.
50. HaRav, 448-449.
51. Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Lubavitch, Ohr Ha-torah, Bereishit Vol. 3, 603-604 (Hebrew pagination). This last quote—as well as the source quoted above, note 44—further emphasizes the central role that the heart continued to play in Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s thought, even in the later period. See Maamarei Admur Ha-zaken 5570, 207-210 for a discourse delivered by Rabbi DovBer in the lifetime of Rabbi Schneur Zalman, which similarly emphasizes this point, contrasting between the exteriority of the heart and the interiority of the heart (pnimiyut ha-lev). As Loewenthal puts it (Ibid., 122) Rabbi DovBer too demanded ecstasy: “not ecstasy of the self, but of the nonself…”
52. Hillman, Beis Rebbi, Part 1, Chapter 26, note 4.
53. Torat Shalom, 213.
54. HaRav, 563-572.
55. Maamarei Admur Ha-zaken 5565, 4.
56. Rabbi Nochum Grunwald, HaRav, 573-586.
57. Rabbi Nechemia Teichman, HaRav, 587-606.
58. Grunwald’s description here is inspired by the comment of the Maharshal regarding the achievement of the Tosafists. See Yam Shel Shlomo, introduction to Chulin.
59. HaRav, 506-562.
60. For one relevant text that Grunwald does not discuss see Ma’amarei Admur ha-Zaken 5565, Volume 1, 489–90. For my own discussion of this text, as well as a contextualization of Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s approach within the broader streams of Jewish rationalist and mystical thought that differs somewhat from Grunwald’s approach see Eli Rubin, “Intimacy in the Place of Otherness: How rationalism and mysticism collaboratively communicate the Midrashic core of cosmic purpose,” Chabad.org, available here.
61. HaRav, 544-545. Footnote 99, incidentally, is well worth reading. Among other points there, Grunwald makes explicit reference to Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik’s Halakhic Man. Indeed, hints to the similarities and differences between the latter’s approach and that of Rabbi Schneur Zalman are already apparent from the onset of Grunwald’s article. For more on this general topic See Elliot R. Wolfson, “Eternal Duration and Temporal Compresence: The Influence of Habad on Joseph B. Soloveitchik,” in Michael Zank and Ingrid Anderson, eds., The Value of the Particular: Lessons from Judaism and the Modern Jewish Experience - Festschrift for Steven T. Katz on the Occasion of his Seventieth Birthday (Leiden: Brill, 2015), 196-238.
62. Take for example page 562, footnote 145, where Grunwald gestures to the question of Jewish chosenness as developed in Chabad thought through the generations. For a lengthy treatment of this topic see Wolfson, Open Secret, Chapter 6. See also Eli Rubin, “Divine Zeitgeist—The Rebbe’s Appreciative Critique of Modernity,” Chabad.org, available here, and Wojciech Tworek, Time in the Teachings of Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi (dissertation submitted for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy, University College London, 2014), 126-136. None of these treatments deal with the diburificating statement Grunwald points to in Likutei Sichot Vol. 16 (Kehot Publication Society, 2006), 477-478: “When will it be achieved in a revealed sense that the Jews are a dwelling for G‑d? …Specifically… when, through the Jews, the lower realms themselves become a place that is fit for G‑d’s dwelling… Since the intention of a dwelling in the lower realms is [rooted] in G‑d’s essence, it is impossible to say that this intention should be compounded of two things…”
63. HaRav, 3-124.
64. HaRav, 125-211.
65. HaRav, 215-343.
66. HaRav, 653-658.
67. HaRav, 701-740.
68. HaRav, 765-770.
69. HaRav, 516-528.
70. HaRav, 693.
71. HaRav, 698. On Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s Halachik work and method Rabbi Shlomo Yosef Zevin, “Shulchan Aruch Admur” in Sofrim Ve-seforim Vol. 2 (Tel Aviv: Hotza’at Sefarim Avraham Tziyoni, 1959), 9-21 [Hebrew], translated and adapted by the present writer as,“Systematization, Explanation and Arbitration: Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi’s Unique Legislative Style,” Chabad.org, available here. For an overview of the current state of scholarship on this topic see Levi Cooper, “Towards A Judicial Biography of Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liady,” in Journal of Law and Religion 30, no. 1 (2015), 107-135. On the need to address the relationship between Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s Halachik and Kabbalistic work see Garb, Yearnings of the Soul, 155-157.
72. Likutei Amarim, Chapter 37. For an extended discussion of the prominent place of the messianic idea in Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s thought, correcting a major gap in previous scholarship, see Wojciech Tworek, Time in the Teachings of Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi(dissertation submitted for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy, University College London, 2014), especially Chapters 2 and 3. See the related discussion in Foxbrunner, Habad, 85-93, and also Eli Rubin, “The Idealistic Realism of Jewish Messianism: On Chabad’s apocalyptic calculations, and why Jews have always predicted elusive ends,” Chabad.org, available here.
73. HaRav, 462-472.
74. HaRav, 469.
75. HaRav, 470-472.
76. Torat Shalom, 26.
© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
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On the Calendar
Marking the Yahrtzeit of the Alter Rebbe, Founder of Chabad
mystic, a communal activist, a philosopher, a halachic authority, a composer, a talmudist—Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi was all of these. But he was primarily a spiritual guide, who created a practical path that allows anyone to approach divinity. Rabbi Schneur Zalman lived in an era of change and unrest on a global scale. Yet his life continues to inspire, and his works and teachings have long withstood the test of time.© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
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Women
Trying to Stand Steady After a Childhood Adrift By Liat Levy
I flit to and fro between the options, back and forth and back again. I need to decide something, anything, in order to move forward. But instead I find myself overwhelmed and unsure and temporarily “paralyzed.”
I absorbed this behavior when I was very little. I found myself in a murky world, sailing around and around and around in excruciating circles. There was often no seashore in sight. Decisionmaking, especially, was an endless endeavor. The waters were rough, and I felt seasick and stuck, but I had nothing and nobody to hold onto. I learned that the others on our little boat could put on a life jacket at a whim and jump off and swim away toward the chance of a clearer, simpler reality, without even looking back. But I was too young to swim.
I did, however, have school as an oasis. I treasured my time within its clear borders, and there I thrived. Every day I would return to the wobbly waters, and on the way I’d peer beyond my little world and catch a glimpse of land. A foreign place that appeared not to move quite as much. A place where little girls had people who did not leave them, and bought them stuff and let them just be little. Where decisions were made and things were clear. And I ached for a reality that was not mine.
But I was out at sea on a boat that got heavier. No decision was made about how to get us to shore; it was even thought safer to risk drowning rather than face the consequences of making the wrong call. And so we stayed out at sea, contemplating the possible options. I tried to suggest decisions, but I was little, and my decisions were always undone. When and where I could, I kept my eyes on that land.
Eventually I was big and strong enough to swim off, just like some of the others on my boat had once done, too. I thought that the land that I had spied for so long would offer relief, but instead I felt guilty for swimming away. I felt the movement of the unsteady water still in me. I was no longer as clear as I was when in the company of the unclear.
And so began a long journey that I am still on. To find safeness and stillness within. And sometimes, after many years, I see that I am on the other side, the stable land, looking out at the rough waters in the distance. The world rocks ever so slightly beneath my feet, but it’s mainly the aftereffects.
But other times, like now, when I am trying to make a serious decision and feel confused and scared, the land seems to slip from beneath me, and I find myself once again out in the middle of the ocean, tossed from side to side, with sharks all around. Familiar, frightening territory.
So, I try to look in a different direction. Not toward the land. I see that the land was limited and that it was not always what it seemed. The little girls who seemed to have it all did not; they were on their own odyssey. So I look upward, upward toward a G‑d who cares, toward faith, toward a bird’s-eye perspective and a bigger picture. To a belief that all that time in the water is what made me who I am today. I look upward to a reality where there are no “wrong” decisions, but rather many “right” options. To a vision of a world that leans toward me rather than against.
I can’t say I have made my current decision yet. Admittedly, I am still going with this one. But I am working on loving myself anyway. Working on empathy. Working to throw my fear overboard, so I can watch it scatter into the nothingness that it really is.
I mutter a heartfelt prayer that I be blessed with clarity so I can make a decision soon. And that once it’s made, I let go and dive in that direction with confidence. Revel in the exhilaration of movement, and float on the current in peace.
Liat Levy is a journalist who loves writing about her life experiences openly, in the hope that others will find comfort and inspiration in her words. She is passionate about living her best life and about helping others to do the same too. She currently lives in Jerusalem.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.
© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
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Women
Tips for Feeding Picky Eaters
By Aliza Neveloff
In the mornings I babysit my neighbor’s 10-month-old daughter. She is an active, happy and sweet baby. I love helping out my neighbor, and her baby is a delight.
My neighbor has a unique quality: she dislikes fruit and won’t touch it at all. As a mom, she has had to overcome her dislike of fruit somewhat, because she wants her kids to eat it. Most of her kids do enjoy eating fruit, but her baby daughter is not so fond of it.
One morning I grated an apple for Yael* and placed it on her lips. She simply licked her lips and shook her head, unimpressed. The next day I tried to feed her a banana. She spit it out. This didn’t worry me too much, because she was eating vegetables and meat and starches, and she was generally happy. I smiled as I thought how much my neighbor’s daughter was just like her mom. She even looks the most like her from among the kids.
Dealing with Yael’s dislike of fruit, I found myself motivated to research finicky eaters, and with her mother's permission, develop an effective method for exposing her to new foods. I learned some helpful things. Children often eat small amounts, behave inconsistently about what they eat, and are fickle about their likes and dislikes. A parent might interpret a child’s behavior as being finicky, but it could be normal eating behavior for a young child. In contrast, a child who eats only from a limited list of foods, insists on the same foods again and again, and even gets upset when offered something that is not on the list, is a finicky eater.1
How could I prevent Yael from becoming a finicky eater? The first answer I got was not to pressure her into eating fruit. Some children are naturally sensitive to taste, texture and smell. These children often find certain foods upsetting in some way, and will sometimes spit them out. When parents and caregivers pressure children to eat, they can make the children turn into finicky eaters. Children always do more and dare more when they feel control over a situation. If a child is allowed to be calm and polite, but firm, about his food refusal, he will be able to very gradually try new foods, and even learn to like them.
After being offered a food 10 or 20 times, a child might start to like the food. This was my second answer. Don’t give up on presenting Yael with all types of fruits in a variety of presentations. Parents and caregivers who provide too few opportunities for children to learn to like new foods can also make children into finicky eaters.
So, for the few weeks after learning these tips, I presented Yael with different types of fruits: watermelon, persimmon, grapes, clementines, etc. Some she liked better than others. I did not really care how much she was eating, just that she was enjoying herself and trying new fruits. Then, one day, her mother brought her with an apple in her bag. I was not eager to prepare it for her because of her previous negative reactions to apples.
When her mom called to see how our morning was going, she said, “About the apple, yesterday I cut the apple into slices, and Yael enjoyed munching on them. Maybe she will like it today too.” I happily peeled and sliced the apple, and Yael noshed away.
This incident reminded me of the mitzvah of bringing the first fruits from one’s crop to the kohen (priest) in the Holy Temple in Jerusalem. There is a chassidic teaching that the mitzvah of first fruits represents renewal and new beginnings: “The main obligation of bringing the first fruits alludes to renewal, that a person needs to renew himself each time and to begin again every time.”2 Just as fruit grows anew every year, and needs to be brought to the Temple anew every year, a person should always approach life with a renewed sense of purpose, starting again as though with a fresh slate.
I thought that this interpretation of the mitzvah of first fruits was extremely relevant to the approach I needed to take when trying to get Yael to eat fruit: to serve her fruit with enthusiasm and excitement, as if I had never served it to her before.
When exposing your child to new foods, every time is like the first time. A child might need a lot of exposure to different food to learn to like them. And don’t be afraid or insulted if a child says no a number of times. You might just need to try again.
As parents, we may have to work on our own picky food habits along with our children. Our children will only have positive attitudes and behaviors around food if we do. So let’s not be afraid to serve different types of food and try out different kinds of food preparation. The time and effort we put in now can make an enormous difference for our children later on.
_______________
*Not her real name.
Aliza has a bachelor’s degree in Clinical Nutrition from the University of California, Davis, and a master’s degree in Public Health from Ben Gurion University. She recently finished a course in nutrition education and counseling through the Ellyn Satter Institute. She lives in the northern Negev of Israel with her family.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.
FOOTNOTES
1. Satter, E. 2002: Ellyn Satter’s Nutrition and Feeding for Infants and Children: Handout Masters. www.ellynsatter.com.
2. Likutei Halachot Yoreh Deah (of Reb Natan), Laws of Meat and Milk, 4th law.
© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
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Women
How I Graduated From an Ivy League School and Changed the World By Elana Mizrahi
When I attend a birth as a doula, I never know if I will be gone for three hours or for twenty. There’s no predictability in the job. I’ve been at births where I literally didn’t sleep for thirty-six hours straight. And what happens after a birth? I come home. I recuperate. I’m of course paid for my work. And I can’t describe how wonderful I feel upon receiving the beautiful notes and calls of gratitude from couples whom I’ve been privileged to help. I definitely feel good about my job. I feel appreciated.
At the hospital, I run into doctors that I know. They have long shifts—I’ve seen doctors there for thirty-six hours straight as well. They too, at the end of their shift, come home, get paid, and are regarded very highly by society. And this holds true for many other professions as well.
Well now, thank G‑d, after the recent birth of my fourth I never know if I will be gone for three hours or for twentychild, I’m taking at least a year off from “doula-ing,” and yet I still have many of those sleepless nights . . . no, not helping someone else, but with my own baby. For example, the other day we were up at 1 AM, 2 AM, 3 AM. . . . In the morning, after all my other children were out the door, I felt so exhausted, but a voice inside me said, “Let’s go, you’ve got things to do”—as if I hadn’t really been doing something all night! So I did do a bit of what I thought I had to do. At 11 o’clock, my very exhausted baby was ready for a nap, so I put him down in his crib. And then do you know what I did? No, I didn’t take the time to “do” more. I turned off that voice and listened to a different one instead. I stopped what I was “doing” and went to bed!
The two of us slept until 1 PM. I woke up fresh and alert. And I also woke up feeling proud of myself for taking care of myself and for not feeling guilty about it. I felt good about the fact that I was doing holy work all night long—work that no one, except my husband, knew or appreciated, yet I knew and valued. I felt proud of myself for listening to the voice of truth, the voice of Torah, which helped me understand that the holy work continued as I took a nap. Because “not doing” enables me to continue to “do” more holy work—which comes with no pay, no public recognition, and yet such greatness.
About sixteen years ago I graduated from one of the top universities in the world, and I did this in three years instead of four. As I received my diploma, many people were looking at me with either envy, admiration, or a mixture of both. At that point they thought, “This is going to be one very successful woman!” People wanted to know, what would I do next? Originally there were plans for law school, working in government, “changing the world and making it into a better place.” I even spent one of those college summers interning in Washington, D.C., but when I was there I kept thinking to myself, “This is not the place for a woman who wants to be a mommy. I want to change the world and make it into a ‘better’ place, but I want to do it by being a mommy . . .” Pretty unconventional thoughts nowadays for a woman in her late teens and early twenties! Who put those thoughts into a Stanford University student’s head? Really, it wasn’t “who” so much as “what,” and the “what” was my soul.
And when I tell you that I was proud of myself for not feeling guilty, I mean it. It’s not easy to get the voices out of your head, the ones which you absorbed for at least twenty years from a society that tells you that success is based on a title or how much money you make. I had to work on myself to come to the point where I could see that by giving, nurturing, loving and educating my children, I actually am changing the world and making it into a better place.
Judaism places a huge emphasis on the role of the Jewish woman. In fact, the core of Jewish life—which is in essence the Jewish home—rests upon her shoulders. How do we know this? By her making chicken soup and potato kugel? No. (Although this too has its importance.) We know it by the three principal mitzvahs of the Jewish woman: lighting Shabbat candles, taking challah and going to the mikvah (the laws of Family Purity). These three mitzvahs are so important, so fundamental to Judaism, and yet she does them in private, she does them in her home.
No one knows (except, of course, for her family) if she lit those candles ushering in the Shabbat Queen. No one knows whether she has taken challah from her special Shabbat bread, and no one knows about her going to immerse in the purifying waters of the mikvah. Each mitzvah that she does has an enormous impact on the peace, prosperity and purity of her home—and therefore on the world. These mitzvahs are her responsibility. They are privileges to perform, and yet no one knows that she’s doing it. The very fact that they are done modestly, discreetly, contributes to their greatness and to hers.
At times, there are conflicting voices going on inside our heads. At times, there are conflicting voicesThere are voices that steer us in one direction or another. Some parts of society tell us one thing, and others tell us something else. But when we understand the awesomeness of our role and the value of our mitzvahs, when we know that even if no one pays us or no one sees our actions, then we, in modesty and in discretion, are changing the world and making it into a better place. How wonderful! How huge! How meaningful.
When I think back to my classmates, to the people who attended my graduation, I realize that they were right. I’m a mother of four, a homemaker, a wife, a Jewish woman. I amone very successful woman!
Originally from northern California and a Stanford University graduate, Elana Mizrahi now lives in Jerusalem with her husband and children. She is a doula, massage therapist, writer, and author of Dancing Through Life, a book for Jewish women. She also teaches Jewish marriage classes for brides.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.
© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
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Parshah
Spirits in a Material World By Rabbi Jonathan Sacks
The Torah sometimes says something of fundamental importance in what seems like a minor and incidental comment. There is a fine example of this near the beginning of today’s Parshah.
Last week, we read of how Moses was sent by G‑d to lead the Israelites to freedom, and how his initial efforts met with failure. Not only did Pharaoh not agree to let the people go; he made the working conditions of the Israelites even worse. They The people did not listen to Moseshad to make the same number of bricks as before, but now they had to gather their own straw. The people complained to Pharaoh, then they complained to Moses, then Moses complained to G‑d. “Why have You brought trouble to this people? Why did You send me?”
At the beginning of this week’s Parshah, G‑d tells Moses that he will indeed bring the Israelites to freedom, and tells him to announce this to the people. Then we read this:
So Moses told this to the Israelites, but they did not listen to him, because their spirit was broken and because the labor was harsh. 1
The italicized phrase seems simple enough. The people did not listen to Moses, because he had brought them messages from G‑d before, and they had done nothing to improve their situation. They were busy trying to survive day by day. They had no time for utopian promises that seemed to have no grounding in reality. Moses had failed to deliver in the past. They had no reason to think he would do so in the future. So far, so straightforward.
But there is something more subtle going on beneath the surface. When Moses first met G‑d at the burning bush, G‑d told him to lead, and Moses kept refusing on the grounds that the people would not listen to him. He was not a man of words. He was slow of speech and tongue. He was a man of “uncircumcised lips.” He lacked eloquence. He could not sway crowds. He was not an inspirational leader.
It turned out, though, that Moses was both right and wrong: right that they did not listen to him, but wrong about why. It had nothing to do with his failures as a leader or a public speaker. In fact, it had nothing to do with Moses at all. They did not listen “because their spirit was broken and because the labor was harsh.” In other words: If you want to improve people’s spiritual situation, first improve their physical situation. That is one of the most humanizing aspects of Judaism.
Maimonides emphasizes this in The Guide for the Perplexed.2 The Torah, he says, has two aims: the wellbeing of the soul and the wellbeing of the body. The wellbeing of the soul is something inward and spiritual, but the wellbeing of the body requires a strong society and economy, where there is the rule of law, division of labor and the promotion of trade. We have bodily wellbeing when all our physical needs are supplied, but none of us can do this on our own. We specialize and exchange. That is why we need a good, strong, just society.
Spiritual achievement, says Maimonides, is higher than material achievement, but we need to ensure the latter first, because “a person suffering from great hunger, thirst, heat or cold cannot grasp an idea even if it is communicated by others, much less can he arrive at it by his own reasoning.” In other words, if we lack basic physical needs, there is no way we can reach spiritual heights. When people’s spirits are broken by harsh labor, they cannot listen to a Moses. If you want to improve people’s spiritual situation, first improve their physical conditions.
This idea was given classic expression in modern times by two New York Jewish psychologists, Abraham Maslow (1908–1970) and Frederick Herzberg (1923–2000). Maslow was fascinated by the question of why many people never reached their full potential. He also believed—as, later, did Martin Seligman, creator of Positive Psychology—that psychology should focus not only on the cure of illness but also on the positive promotion of mental health. His most famous contribution to the study of the human mind was his “hierarchy of needs.”
We are not a mere bundle of wants and desires. There is a clear order to our concerns. Maslow enumerated five levels. First are our physiological needs: for food and shelter, the basic requirements of survival. Next come safety needs: protection against harm done to us by others. Third is our need for love and belonging. Above that comes our desire for recognition and esteem, and higher still is self-actualization: fulfilling our potential, becoming the person we feel we could and should be. In his later years Maslow added a yet higher stage: self-transcendence, rising beyond the self through altruism and spirituality.
Herzberg simplified this whole structure by distinguishing between physical and psychological factors. He called the first Adam needs, and the second, Abraham needs. Herzberg was particularly interested in what motivates people at work. What he realized in the late 1950s—an idea revived more recently by American-Israeli economist Dan Ariely—is that money, salary and financial rewards (stock options and the like) is not the only motivator. People do not necessarily work better, harder or more creatively the more you pay them. Money works up to a certain level, but beyond that the real motivator is the challenge to grow, create, find meaning, and to invest your highest talents in a great cause. Money speaks to our Adam needs, but meaning speaks to our Abraham needs.
There is a truth here that Jews and Judaism have tended to note and live by more fully than many other civilizations and faiths. Most religions are cultures of acceptance. There is poverty, hunger and disease on earth because that is the way the world is; that is how G‑d made it and wants it. Yes, we can find happiness, nirvana or bliss, but to achieve it you must escape from the world by meditation, or retreating to a monastery, or by drugs or trances, or by waiting patiently for the joy that awaits us in the world to come. Religion anesthetizes us to pain.
That Ours is a religion of protestisn’t Judaism at all. When it comes to the poverty and pain of the world, ours is a religion of protest, not acceptance. G‑d does not want people to be poor, hungry, sick, oppressed, uneducated, deprived of rights or subject to abuse. He has made us His agents in this cause. He wants us to be His partners in the work of redemption. That is why so many Jews have become doctors fighting disease, lawyers fighting injustice or educators fighting ignorance. It is surely why they have produced so many pioneering (and Nobel Prize–winning) economists. As Michael Novak (citing Irving Kristol) writes:
Jewish thought has always felt comfortable with a certain well-ordered worldliness, whereas the Christian has always felt a pull to otherworldliness. Jewish thought has had a candid orientation toward private property, whereas Catholic thought—articulated from an early period chiefly among priests and monks—has persistently tried to direct the attention of its adherents beyond the activities and interests of this world to the next. As a result, tutored by the law and the prophets, ordinary Jews have long felt more at home in this world, while ordinary Catholics have regarded this world as a valley of temptation and as a distraction from their proper business, which is preparation for the world to come.3
G‑d is to be found in this world, not just the next. But for us to climb to spiritual heights, we must first have satisfied our material needs. Abraham was greater than Adam, but Adam came before Abraham. When the physical world is harsh, the human spirit is broken, and people cannot then hear the word of G‑d, even when delivered by a Moses.
Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev said it well: “Don’t worry about the state of someone else’s soul and the needs of your body. Worry about the needs of someone else’s body and the state of your own soul.”
Alleviating poverty, curing disease, ensuring the rule of law and respect for human rights: these are spiritual tasks no less than prayer and Torah study. To be sure, the latter are higher, but the former are prior. People cannot hear G‑d’s message if their spirit is broken and their labor harsh.
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks is the former Chief Rabbi of Great Britain and the British Commonwealth. To read more writings and teachings by Lord Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, or to join his e‑mail list, please visitwww.rabbisacks.org.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.
FOOTNOTES
1. Exodus 6:9.
2. Book 3, chapter 27.
3. Michael Novak, This Hemisphere of Liberty (Washington, D.C.: American Enterprise Institute, 1990), 64.
© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
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Story
What Am I Doing Here?
By Marcy Horowitz
As I exited the Kingston Avenue subway station on a lovely fall morning, I had to ask myself: What was I doing here?
I’m a Reform Jew, the mother of a healthy 28-year-old son. What accident of fate made me part of the Ruderman Chabad Inclusion Initiative, a group committed to inclusion for people with disabilities at every level of Chabad life?
No, wait. It’s a given in Chabad circles that there are no “accidents.” I think about these events in my own life . . .
My best friend has just given birth, but something’s “not right” with her son. Eventually she receives a diagnosis: cerebral palsy. He will never roll over, sit up, walk or speak. Never feed, toilet or bathe himself.
A year later, another friend’s son is diagnosed with autism; this boy has extreme behavioral issues and cannot speak.
The son of yet another friend has severe learning disabilities.
A friend’s daughter has dysgraphia. Will she succeed in school? How?
I may not be able to understand why these things happen, but I don’t really need to. All I need to do is know that we all live in the same world, and it is incumbent upon us to make our family, work and community circles as large as possible. To reach out to those who are “different.” To make the world more inclusive for people with disabilities.
How do we do this?
“How” is the core work of the Ruderman Chabad Inclusion Initiative. The RCII team is asking people with and without disabilities, and experts in Chassidus, disability rights, inclusion issues, special education, mental health, physical therapy and more to look at the status quo throughout the Chabad universe and see how we can make our world more inclusive for people with disabilities.
I admit that I was surprised when I was invited to be a member of the RCII team. I have no special insight into disability issues. But as a professional writer and grants administrator, I have the opportunity to use my talents and abilities to help make the world a more welcoming place for all of us—those of us with disabilities and those of us without.
In my life’s work, I’m not going to find a cure for cerebral palsy. I’m not going to invent a computer program that will teach people with Autism Spectrum Disorders to interact with others. I’m not going to restore the hearing of a deaf person.
I’m going to write reports, create budgets, edit articles, record meeting notes and deal with the minutiae of RCII during the four-year grant. This kind of nitty-gritty, down-in-the-trenches work may not sound like much to you. But it’s a necessary part of the team’s process. I’d like to think that these efforts will have a major and positive influence on the lives of people with and without disabilities, both inside and outside of Chabad.
And although I’d love to quote a great chassidic master, I’m going to call on Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., instead:
“If I cannot do great things, let me do small things in a great way.”
Marcy Horwitz is a grant writer living in Richmond, Va. She is a member of the Ruderman Chabad Inclusion Initiative team.
The Ruderman-Chabad Inclusion Initiative (RCII) is dedicated to building on the philosophy and mission of Chabad-Lubavitch by providing Chabad communities around the globe the education and resources they need to advance inclusion of people with disabilities. RCII engages Chabad’s network of human and educational resources to create a Culture of Inclusion so that all Jews feel welcomed, supported and valued throughout their entire lifecycle.
Artwork by Sefira Ross, a freelance designer and illustrator whose original creations grace many Chabad.org pages. Residing in Seattle, Washington, her days are spent between multitasking illustrations and being a mom.
© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
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Story
Give Me the Shivers By Yerachmiel Tilles
One of the chassidim of Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi suddenly fell ill while sailing down the Dnieper River on a business trip. He decided to leave the ship at the next port, Shklov, and seek medical attention.
He went to a well-known doctor, who answered him in grave tones, “I’m afraid you have contacted a rare disease for which, as of yet, no cure has been found. I suggest you return home immediately.”
The chassid, however, decided to go see his rebbe before going home. “If my days are numbered, at least I will have seen the rebbe before I die,” he thought, and set out for Liozna.“Rubbish! You are only suffering from malaria!”
When he related the doctor’s words to the rebbe, he was surprised to hear the rebbe’s reaction. “Rubbish! You are only suffering from malaria!”
“But Rebbe,” the chassid protested, “one of the symptoms of malaria is recurring shivers and chills, neither of which I have.”
“Nu, so you will shiver!” the rebbe said.
No sooner had the rebbe uttered those words when the chassid began trembling, his teeth chattering uncontrollably.
He was treated in Liozna, and remained there until he fully recovered. Once he regained his strength, he set out back home, passing through Shklov to see the doctor whom he had previously consulted.
“How could you have frightened me so, telling me that I had some incurable disease? You see, thank G‑d, all I had was a case of malaria, and I am now alive and well.”
“Indeed,” replied the doctor, “you had malaria. However, there are two variants of this disease. One is a serious but uncomplicated illness, characterized by chills and shivers, for which treatment is available. The other, more severe case is typified by a gradual loss of energy. For this, there is no cure. You most certainly had the more severe type of malaria. I am amazed at your recovery. What happened?”
The chassid told the doctor of his visit to his rebbe. “The only explanation I have,” the doctor responded, “is that your rebbe’s blessing transformed the disease from one type to the other.”
[Connection to the weekly Torah reading: The plagues.
Connection to this week: 24 Tevet (this year, Sunday, Jan. 6) is the yahrzeit of the rebbe in the story. This year marks the 200th anniversary of his passing.]
Adapted and supplemented from From My Father’s Shabbos Table (pp. 84–85), Eliyahu Touger’s excellent selection and translation from the first two volumes of Rabbi Yehuda Chitrik’s 4-volume series, Reshimot Devarim.
Biographical note:
Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi [18 Elul 1745–24 Tevet 1812], one of the primary disciples of the Maggid of Mezeritch, is the founder of the Chabad chassidic movement. He is the author of Shulchan Aruch HaRavand Tanya, as well as many other major works in both Jewish law and the mystical teachings.
Copyright 2003 by KabbalaOnline.org. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this work or portions thereof, in any form, unless with permission, in writing, from Kabbalah Online.
Yerachmiel Tilles is the co-founder of Ascent-of-Safed, and was its educational director for 18 years. He is the creator of www.ascentofsafed.com and www.kabbalaonline.org and currently the director of both sites. He is also a well-known storyteller, a columnist for numerous chassidic publications, and a staff rabbi on AskMoses.com, as well as and the author of "Saturday Night, Full Moon": Intriguing Stories of Kabbalah Sages, Chasidic Masters and other Jewish Heroes.
© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
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Lifestyle
Cookbook Review, Amazing New Recipes & Free Giveaway By Miriam SzokovskiThe kosher cookbook market continues to flourish, and it can be difficult to know which cookbooks are the right match for each home cook. We all have our own strengths and weaknesses in the kitchen; some like to try varied international cuisines, while others prefer to stick with the more familiar; and, of course, some people are happy to spend time making complex recipes, but others are staunchly in the quick-and-easy-only camp.
From time to time I’ll be reviewing different cookbooks here, giving you a little glimpse inside each one, to help you decide which ones might be a good investment for you.
Have you heard about the new Silver Platter cookbook? It came out a few months ago, and I’ve heard so much about it. The publishers have sent me a copy to review, as well as several recipes from the book that I’ve included below (click on the picture or name of the dish to be taken to the recipe). We also have a second copy of the cookbook for one lucky reader!
What’s so special about this cookbook? Norene Gilletz, the leading author of kosher cookbooks in Canada, has teamed up with Daniella Silver, a previously unpublished newcomer to the kosher cooking scene. Together they have created a masterpiece—The Silver Platter.
Israeli-Style Satay with Tahini Dipping Sauce
Photography
Each recipe in this book is accompanied by a vibrant full-page color photograph, so you know exactly what to expect. To me, that is what makes or breaks a cookbook. For the most part, the photos are nicely styled but still realistic-looking.
Rocky Road Brownie Cake
Cuisine
I’d say The Silver Platter is very American-style. It features elegant appetizers such as Roasted Asparagus with Poached Eggs, everyday favorites like Chunky Chili and Sesame Ginger Chicken, kid-friendly offerings such as Halibut Fish Sticks, and succulent mains including Bourbon Marinated Prime Rib, innovative sides like Apple Cranberry Couscous, plus plenty of sweet treats, like Fudgy Pretzel Brownies.
Its tagline is “Wholesome, family-friendly recipes,” which is mostly accurate, although almost every time I have seen people recommending this book it seems to be promoted as “all-natural” and “whole ingredients,” which I did not find to be true. Many of the meat and chicken recipes do use significant amounts of ketchup/brown sugar/apricot jam/barbecue sauce/honey etc., which I found disappointing. Nevertheless, there are many, many genuinely fresh, healthy and innovative vegetable soups, salads and sides.
In all, The Silver Platter contains 160 recipes, most of which do not call for any specialty or hard-to-find ingredients, and each recipe includes tips and comments from Norene Gilletz. Many of the recipes are gluten-free and kosher for Passover, and nutrition information for all the recipes is included at the back of the book.
Black Rice with Mango, Pomegranate and Avocado
Who Will Enjoy this Cookbook?
Is this cookbook for you? I can’t answer that question for you, but we’ve shared four recipes here with you, which you can try out for yourselves, and then decide.
One of the recipes that really caught my eye was this exciting and visually appealing salmon:
Cedar-Planked Salmon with Strawberry-Chili Salsa
Grilling on a cedar plank is a simple way to cook and serve salmon, infusing it with a subtle smokiness. Strawberries make a perfect counterpoint to the salsa’s chili pepper. The plank keeps the fish warm while serving.
You will need:
1 or 2 untreated cedar planks (about 12 × 7 inches)
Salsa Ingredients:
2 cups diced strawberries
1/3 cup diced red onion
2 Tbsp. chopped fresh mint or basil
1 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil
Juice of 1 lime (about 2 Tbsp.)
1 serrano or jalapeño chili pepper, finely diced (remove seeds first for less heat)
1 tsp. kosher salt
¼ tsp. black pepper
Fish Ingredients:
4–6 salmon fillets (about 6 oz/180 g each)
1–2 Tbsp. olive oil
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
Soak 1 or 2 cedar planks in cold water for at least 1 hour. Top planks with two or three unopened cans to keep them submerged while soaking.
Salsa: In a medium bowl, stir together strawberries, onion, mint, oil, lime juice, chili pepper, salt and pepper. Cover and refrigerate.
Fish: Preheat grill to medium-high. Remove plank(s) from water and place on hot grate over indirect heat for 6–8 minutes, until hot. Using tongs, carefully turn plank(s) over and place salmon fillets on top. Brush fillets with oil; season with salt and pepper.
Cover grill and cook for 12–15 minutes, or until salmon flakes when lightly pressed with a fork. It’s not necessary to turn the salmon.
Remove from grill and spoon salsa over the salmon. Serve salmon directly from the plank(s).
Yields: 4–6 servings
Norene’s Notes:
Oven Method: Place soaked planks onto a baking sheet. Top with salmon; brush fish with oil, and season with salt and pepper. Bake in a preheated 425° F oven for 12–15 minutes. As the water evaporates from the plank(s), steam will be released, keeping the fish moist and aromatic.
Giveaway!
So, is The Silver Platter a cookbook you’d love to own? We are giving away a free copy to one lucky reader. It could be you! To enter, leave a comment letting us know why kosher cooking is important to you.
NOTE: Cookbook can be shipped only in the U.S. Entries must be made by 11:59 PM EST on Wednesday, January 13, 2016. Winner will be chosen on Thursday, January 14, 2016.
Miriam Szokovski is the author of the historical novel Exiled Down Under, and a member of the Chabad.org editorial team. She enjoys tinkering with recipes, and teaches cooking classes to young children. Miriam shares her love of cooking, baking and food photography on Chabad.org’s food blog, Cook It Kosher, and in the N’shei Chabad Newsletter.
Recipe from The Silver Platter by Daniella Silver with Norene Gilletz, reprinted with permission from the copyright holders: ArtScroll/Mesorah Publications.
© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
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Jewish News
Governor of Stalinist ‘Jewish Homeland’ Gets a Bar Mitzvah
By Chabad.org Staff
Gov. Alexander Levinthal of Birobidzan wraps tefillin for the first time.
Alexander Levinthal, the newly appointed governor of Birobidzan—the storied "Jewish” oblast close to the Chinese border in the Russian Far East—took part in an unexpected celebration last week at a meeting with Jewish leaders in Moscow after he was asked if he would like to put on tefillin.
Much to the surprise of everyone present, he revealed that he had never wrapped tefillin before. In an emotional explanation that followed, Levinthal expressed his gratitude to be finally celebrating the bar mitzvah he never had at age 13.
Levinthal had been meeting with Chief Rabbi of Russia Berel Lazar. Accompanied by Chief Rabbi of Birobidzan Eliyahu Riss, Levinthal was given a tour of the Marina Roscha Synagogue and Jewish Center, as well as the adjacent Jewish Museum.
During the course of the visit, Levinthal unveiled plans to build Birobidzhan’s first ever mikvah (ritual bath), promising to begin construction within the coming months.
Located in Russia’s Far East on the northern border of China, Birobidzhan (Birobidjan) was established by Stalin in 1931 as a Jewish Autonomous Oblast, meant to be the Soviet alternative to a Jewish Homeland, populated by Jews but devoid of any traditional Jewish life.
With a total population of about 75,000, Birobidzhan is currently home to about 4,000 Jews.
This story is part of a series of articles on Jewish life in the former Soviet Union in the 25th year since the formal dissolution of the USSR on Dec. 26, 1991.
The first article in the series, “L’Chaim on a Moscow Train Platform,” can be read here.
Chief Rabbi of Birobidzan Eliyahu Riss, left, with Levinthal at the Jewish Museum in Moscow
From left: Riss, Chief Rabbi of Russia Berel Lazar and Levinthal at the Marina Roscha Synagogue in Moscow
© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
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Jewish News
As Cleveland Jews Migrate West, a Community Is Born
By Mindy Rubenstein
Creating community on Cleveland's West Side, where the mostly unaffiliated Jewish population has been growing in recent years.
Like many young Chabad-Lubavitch rabbis, Rabbi Mendel Jacobs grew up watching and learning how to serve a Jewish community directly from his parents, who have run a Jewish preschool in Cleveland for many years.
Now after almost a decade studying and serving out-of-town, he’s returned to the city he grew up in, after identifying a part of town that lacked a Jewish infrastructure and is helping to fill that need.
In August, he and his wife, Devorah, moved from the Crown Heights neighborhood of Brooklyn, N.Y., where she left behind family, friends and a community she has known for most of her life to set up Chabad of the West Side in Westlake, an affluent suburb in western Cleveland.
Her husband, however, knows the area well.
“Because I grew up in Cleveland Heights, I approached Rabbi Leibel Alevsky, head Chabad-Lubavitch emissary to Cleveland, and asked him about opening a Chabad House on the West Side,” he says. “Shlichus is something I wanted to do my whole life. I always felt like I wanted to be part of it.”
Jacobs notes there is a booming community in East Cleveland with almost 90,000 Jews. A number of Chabad centers serve that area, and it’s known as a thriving Jewish community with Jewish schools, synagogues and kosher restaurants.
Working the Phones
Rabbi Mendel and Devorah Jacobs
The city’s West Side has always had a much smaller Jewish population, and relatively few Jewish facilities and programs. So Jacobs started by making phone calls to find Jews who are not connected, and he says “people have really been responding.”
“At first, many don’t see the point of being involved in Jewish activities. But we reach out and invite them to experience some of the beauty of what Judaism has to offer, and there’s been a great response.”
Jacobs offers a weekly Torah-portion class and recently held a Friday-night service with about 20 people. For High Holiday services, the Chabad couple rented space in a nearby community center.
“We had a nice turnout,” he says, with about 30 people who otherwise “probably wouldn’t have gone anywhere for the High Holidays. Things are happening a lot faster than we expected.”
Malcolm Weiss, a retired physician, read in the newspaper about Chabad’s High Holiday services on the Westside and “decided to try it out.”
“From there, I became involved,” he says. He now attends Friday-night services, Torah classes on Wednesday nights with about a dozen people and on Sundays, he and a group of men gather with the rabbi to put on tefillin.
“He reintroduced us to putting on tefillin, and now I sometimes do it on my own,” says Weiss. “I think he’s doing a good job trying to bring Jewish people back into the fold and reignite a spark.”
Young families, like those here at this year's public menorah-lighting at Chanukah time, are drawn to the new Jewish programs in town for grownups and kids alike.
A Fledgling Hebrew School for the Kids
Devorah, who was born in Brooklyn, moved with her family to Manchester, England, at age 10 before returning to New York as a young adult. She recently started a small Hebrew school with a few students. “We are expecting to grow from there,” she says. “I’m really enjoying it a lot. Building a community from scratch is one of the most rewarding things you can do.”
She adds that “obviously, it’s hard at times. I’m away from everybody that I knew. All my family and friends are very far away.”
But she tries to stay focused on her mission. During the High Holidays, she notes that she met quite a few women interested in getting together, and so she is starting a Woman’s Circle.
She says several parents she met also expressed interest in their kids learning Hebrew and about Judaism, so she has started to teach them.
Meredith Miller, who is originally from New York and now lives on the west side of Cleveland, heard that a Chabad House was opening and says she wanted to get her 5-year-old son tutored in Hebrew. About six weeks ago, they started meeting with Devorah at the local public library.
“It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” she says of her son’s lessons. “He loves Hebrew; he’s singing songs. It’s amazing! He can’t wait to go. It’s so positive."
“I was so excited when I heard that they were going to be here.”
Jacobs talks about the holiday at the first public menorah-lighting hosted in Westlake.
A Full House on Friday Night
Meredith marveled how at a recent Shabbat dinner at the Jacobs’ home, more than two dozen people gathered. “The house was packed,” she says.
It was right after the attacks in Paris, so everyone was abuzz with the news. But the rabbi tried to keep his guests focused on the beauty of Shabbat.
“They really have a made a big impact in a really short time and are doing such wonderful things for our neighborhood,” says Meredith.
Rabbi Jacobs studied in various Chabad schools, from Michigan to Manchester, and received ordination at the Central Lubavitcher Yeshivah in Brooklyn.
He recalls that he met the Lubavitcher Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory—when he was a very young child, receiving dollars on Sundays and booklets on chassidus that the Rebbe would distribute on special occasions.
“I’ve learned in Chabad yeshivahs throughout my life, and everything that I know is shaped by the Rebbe’s perspective,” he says. “The biggest privilege I have is to share that with anyone I come in contact with.”
Jacobs says he often share advice that the Rebbe has given to those who faced challenges, telling them: “Just look at the successes in your life, focus on them, and you’ll realize how important your mission is.”
“The Rebbe is telling me the same thing,” says Jacobs.
That inspiration is shared by newfound friends and supporters. “He has his work cut out for him,” notes Meredith Miller. “But what he’s doing is going to revive the community. There’s really a need.”
© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
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Jewish News
Israeli Police Continue Hunt for Tel Aviv Terror Shooter
By Yaakov Ort
Israelis light candles on Saturday night spelling out the names of victims—“Shimi and Alon”—outside a pub on Dizengoff Street in central Tel Aviv. (Photo: Tomer Neuberg/Flash90)
This article was written and published from Israel after the close of the Jewish Sabbath there.
JERUSALEM—The streets of usually bustling Tel Aviv were eerily quiet on Saturday night as police searched through abandoned buildings and construction sites for an Israeli Arab man who opened fire at a pub on Friday, killing two and wounding six others, two seriously. With the killer still at large, residents were cautioned to be on the alert.
The dead were identified as Shimon Ruimi, 30, of Ofakim, an Israel Defense Forces’ civilian employee in Tel Aviv to celebrate a friend’s birthday; and Alon Bakal, 26, manager of the Simta restaurant and bar on Dizengoff Street, where the attack took place.
“Everyone talks about their child, but he was a special child; he was our world,” said Alon Bakal’s father, David. “He gave light to whichever place he was in, and he made everyone around him smile.”
Special units also spread out through the Gush Dan region and the suspect’s home in the village of Arara in the Wadi Ara area in the north.
Police released the name of the shooter, 29-year-old Nashat Melhem. He was identified and brought to the attention of police by his father, Muhammad Melhem, after he saw videos of his son, who had previously expressed support for the ISIS terror organization, broadcast on television.
The elder Melhem is a security guard and serves as a volunteer with the local Israeli police. His registered weapon was stolen from a safe in his home and is assumed to have been used the attacks. The suspect’s brother, Juadat, was arrested on Friday and is being charged as an accomplice to murder.
Alon Bakal, 26, manager of the Simta restaurant on Dizengoff Street, where the attack took place.
“I still do not understand and haven’t digested that my son did such a thing,” Muhammad Melhem told Israel’s Channel 2 News. “What happened has left the whole family and village in shock. I am a member of the system; I work in security, and suddenly I understood that my son is involved and I called the police station. I asked to meet with the station’s senior officer, and I let him know that my son was involved in the attack.”
“I extend my condolences to the families of the victims and wish a speedy recovery to those injured,” added the suspect’s father.
Shimon Ruimi, 30, of Ofakim, an IDF civilian employee in Tel Aviv to celebrate a friend’s birthday.
© Copyright 2016, all rights reserved.
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Chabad.org Magazine - Editor: Yanki Tauber
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