JUNE 25, 1999 VOL 2, ISSUE 39 12 TAMMUZ 5759
Chabad of Northern Beverly Hills, 409 Foothill Road . Beverly Hills, CA 90210
Rabbi Yosef Shusterman 310/271-9063
PARSHAT CHUKAT-BALAK
The Torah portion of Chukas takes its name from the word chukas, supra-rational Divine decree, that appears at the outset of this portion in reference to the laws of the Red Heifer. The word chukas itself is etymologically related to chakikah, to engrave and hew out. What is the connection between supra-rational Divine decrees and engraving?
Mitzvos are divided into three categories: Eidos, Testimonies; Mishpatim, Laws; and Chukim, Decrees. Eidos are commandments that serve as a testimony and remembrance of important events. Mishpatim are laws dictated by human intellect as well as by Divine intellect. Chukim are decrees that have no rational explanation. A Jew instinctively desires to perform G-d's will. This desire emanates from the essence of the Jewish soul, which transcends intellect. This instinct most often finds expression in the performance of Chukim. When a person performs Eidos and Mishpatim, the soul's essential desire is not fully revealed, since the intellectual aspect of these mitzvos clouds the soul's purely supra- rational desire to fulfill G-d's will.
Chukim, however, do not have the "excess baggage" of logic. Therefore, performance of the Chukim reveals the soul's essence. The connection between Chukim and engraving lies in the fact that the superiority of Chukim over Eidos and Mishpatim is similar to the superiority of engraving over writing: Writing is accomplished by joining ink to paper. Since the ink and the letters formed by it remain a separate entity from the paper upon which they are written, they therefore conceal that part of the paper upon which they appear. However, engraved letters are composed of the very substance upon which they are engraved, and therefore do not conceal it. Since intellect tends to conceal the soul's essence, the performance of Eidos and Mishpatim is similar to writing, in that the intellect conceals the soul's essential desire to fulfill G-d's will just as written letters conceal the paper upon which they are written.
Chukim, however, are performed in a wholly supra-rational manner; there is nothing about them that would tend to obscure G-d's will and desire. They are therefore likened to engraved letters. Chassidus explains that there are actually two forms of engraving: letters engraved in a normal fashion and letters formed by hewing the material clear through. In the former, the letters in some small way do impede the brilliance of the stone in which they are engraved, and in this they are somewhat similar to written letters; in the latter,
this impediment does not exist.
Within Chukim, too, we find two manners of Chukim: those that have some relationship to intellect - similar to an engraved letter; or chukah such as the commandment of the Red Heifer, that has no relationship to intellect - similar to a letter formed by hewing the stone through and through. We thus understand that the performance of those Chukim that have some relationship to intellect lacks the degree of revelation found in the performance of the chukah of the Red Heifer. It is only in performing the latter kind of decree, where intellect does not enter the picture, that the soul's essence is revealed in all its glory.
(From: Wellsprings, Based on Likkutei Sichos Vol. VIII, pp. 124-129.}"This is the Torah of a man who will die in a tent..." (19:14) "The Torah does not stay with someone unless he kills himself over it." (Talmud Berachot 63) Most of us spend our lives in a kind of somnambulism. We all know that everything can stop in one second. We know that no one gets out of here alive. But we live our lives as though we were immortal.
There once was a businessman who woke up one day and thought to himself that he wasn't getting any younger. He ate his breakfast and said good-bye to his wife, but instead of driving to work, he drove to a beit midrash (Torah study hall). He walked in and asked a young bearded fellow sitting there if he would teach him the Torah. The young fellow asked him what he would like to learn. Without batting an eyelid, the businessman replied "Everything. Where
do we start?" The next day, the businessman ate breakfast, said good-bye to
his wife, and drove back to the beit midrash. And the following day. And the day after that. That night, his wife was standing at the door when he came home. "They called from the office today." she said "Oh yes," he murmured non-committaly. "Apparently, you haven't been there for four days." "That's right." "Where have you been?" "I've been studying the Torah." "Are you crazy? Who's going to support us if you don't go to work anymore?" "My dear wife, if I had passed away four days ago, would you be asking me now who was going to support you? My whole life I spent working for this world. Before I take my leave here, I would like to have something put away for our 'retirement.' I'm taking out some bonds in the First National Bank of the Next World. If I were dead, you wouldn't be asking me why I didn't go to the office today."
Most of the time, we don't study Torah because we're "too busy." However, unless we can picture ourselves as "dead to the world," we will never have the impetus to study until we are really dead to the world..
(Rabbi Menachem Nissel, www.ohr.org)TWELVE -THIRTEEN OF TAMMUZ
Rabbi Yosef Yitzchok of Lubavitch writes: My imprisonment [in 1927] was my seventh - I was imprisoned five times in the days of the old [czarist] regime and twice in the days of the new [communist] regime…. but this, the seventh, is the most distinguished of them all. As is the nature of things, the metaphor is more trivial than the subject and the subject more formidable than the metaphor. If confinement in a prison of wood and stone is an affliction, how much greater is the suffering of the G-dly Soul in the imprisonment of the body and the Animal Soul. Men bedarf zich in dem batifen (`One must think deeply of this'). I will not deny that, at times, this seventh imprisonment causes me great pleasure, as is evident by the fact that now, some seven years after the
incident, I occasionally take the time to seclude myself and envision the encounters and discussions, the visions and the dreams, which I heard, saw, and dreamt in those days. In addition to the set life-periods of man - childhood, youth, his single and married days, maturity and old age; in addition to the talents granted him, be they average and ordinary or brilliant and phenomenal, or his temperament, whether shy and melancholy or joyous and exuberant; in addition to all this, Divine Providence grants him special moments in his life which may transform his nature, develop his faculties, and set him upon a higher plateau, so that he may behold the purpose of the life of man upon earth. The period which most profoundly affects the course of a person's soul and the development of his faculties is that period which is rich with pain and persecution for one's his diligent and passionate work for an ideal. In particular, when one is struggling with and battling his persecutors and oppressors to uphold and strengthen his faith. Such an experience, though fraught with pain of the body and agony of the soul, is rich with powerful impressions. These are the days of light in the life of man. Each and every event of such a period is extremely significant and distinguished, particularly in the case of arrest and imprisonment. Because of their great spiritual value, not only the days and nights, but also the hours and minutes are worthy of note. For every hour and moment of pain, affliction and suffering brings tremendous rewards and infinite fortitude of mind - also the most feeble of men is transformed to the mightiest of the mighty. This last imprisonment began at 2:45am early Wednesday morning, Tuesday night, Sivan 15 5687 [June 15, 1927], and lasted until 1:30pm Sunday Tammuz 3rd [July 3], in the city of Leningrad-Petersburg. Eighteen days, eleven hours, and fifteen minutes.
That day at 8:30 o'clock in the evening, after approximately six hours at home, I left with the train that goes to the city of Kastrama. I arrived on the next day, Monday the 4th of Tammuz, and I remained in exile until 1:30pm on Wednesday, the 13th of Tammuz. Nine days and Seventeen hours...
(From: Once Upon a Chassid by Yanki Tauber)
Birthday of the Rebbe, R. Yosef Yitzchak, in 5640 (1880). On this day, in 5687 (1927), he received the good tidings that he was freed from the exile imposed upon him after his arrest and imprisonment for his efforts in strengthening Torah and Judaism. From a letter of the Rebbe (R. Yosef Yitzchak): "During the forthcoming two Days of Liberation 12 and 13 Tamuz, Chassidim are to Farbreng, for material and spiritual good and blessing, as instituted by our first father, the Alter Rebbe (may the memory of this holy Tzadik be a blessing for life in the Hereafter; his soul rests in the hidden exalted heights; may his merit protect us). During this Farbrengen Chassidim are to talk to one another in a spirit of brotherhood about strengthening fixed times for Torah study. I send them my blessing that G-d favor them in body and spirit.
(From Rebbe's Hayom Yom Tamuz 12).