Rabbi's weekly Blog

This week I was skyping with a nice Jew who wanted to consult with me and receive my support in matters concerning his shalom bayit – his relationship with his wife. Like any good Jew, he was mainly searching for ways to convey messages, to hint to what he wanted – to cause things to happen in the way that seemed right and good to him. He had many ideas of how to move things along, but the problem was that every idea he had was likely to produce some problem that would prevent him from carrying it out.

Hashem did a chessed with me, and what came out of my mouth was: “Do a Vayigash!”

In this week’s parasha, there is one central message, expressed by the word Vayigash (“he approached”).

Yehuda was in a very delicate situation. The saga between his brothers and the king of Egypt was not over; in fact, it was getting more complex. And now it had reached a climax, with the king wanting to take young Binyamin from them, when Yehuda had guaranteed Binyamin’s return, alive, to their father, Yaakov. He was the first Israeli who used that well-known phrase – “Semoch alai” – “Trust me!” And now the moment of truth had come, and like anyone who accepts responsibility upon himself, he was alone there, and had to make a decision.

Notice that Yehuda didn’t go around looking for friends or lawyers who would approach Yosef in his stead. He didn’t send a letter, and not even a voice mail. He did Vayigash – he himself approached Yosef, looked him in the eye, and said (so-to-speak): “Let’s settle this matter like two adults.”

A right and honest vayigash leads to unity. Because when people approach each other and have a straight, face-to-face conversation, that brings them closer to each other, and closeness leads to peace and unity. The disagreement can remain; it is perfectly o.k. not to agree with one another, but when it is done through closeness, the result is peace.

This week, twenty-eight years ago, the Rebbe said thus: Vayigash expresses the great rule in the Torah of “You shall love your fellow like yourself.” Vayigash is a statement of revealed, practical unity, as expressed by Yehuda and Yosef coming closer to each other.

Be a Yehuda, do Vayigash.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Zalmen Wishedski

There are life-changing sentences that one encounters sometimes. One such sentence is the most important sentence that I learned from the Ta’atzumot system developed by Rachel Bolton: “Difficulty and pain are catalysts for growth.” Everyone knows that in the end it is possible to grow from difficulties, and to develop as a result of pain. Every Jew is familiar with this; after all, in every exile and in every difficulty we have told this to ourselves. The truth is that the Jewish People has proven, time after time, how from every crisis, no matter how big, it has grown immensely.

It starts with the story of Yosef, the first Jew who was exiled to a strange land, where he grew and developed to the point of being the viceroy of Egypt, the one who prepared the way for his family when they came to Egypt. As Yosef himself told them, “G-d sent me to feed you.” Personally, he describes this in five (Hebrew) words perfectly. When he named his second son Efraim, he said, “For G-d has made me fruitful in the land of my suffering.” As the Rebbe emphasizes (in Likutei Sichot Part I): How did he get to being fruitful? Specifically, by being in “the land of my suffering.” For Yosef, it was really a land of suffering. He was orphaned from his mother, his brothers wanted to kill him and finally compromised on selling him. He was sold several times on the way, and then sold as a slave in Egypt, continuing on to prison for a few years – all this starting when he was only 17 years old. And here, he comes and says clearly and concisely: It was particularly when I was in the land of my suffering that Hashem made me fruitful.

When I learn to change my way of thinking, so that the moment I experience a difficulty I remember immediately that it is a catalyst for growth, my first thought will not be, “Oh no, why is this happening to me?” but rather “Oops, where does this difficulty want to lead me?” and then my life changes for the good. It takes practice and effort, and it’s not always possible to prevent the first thought from being “Oh, no,” but it is perfectly possible to decide that the second thought will be, “Oops.”

An illuminating and Happy Chanukah,

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Zalmen Wishedski

 Where am I?

It is 10:00 pm, and I am sitting in the living room of the Gittler family, the Rebbe’s shluchim to Freiburg, Germany. We have just finished a hitva’adut for the 19^th of Kislev, the Chabad holiday of geula. I’m a little dizzy, since I was invited to participate, that is, to speak to the people about the meaning of the day, and about Chassidut in general and about Chabad in particular. I’m a little dizzy, since I said “L’chaim” a few times, because to give a “dry” talk is possible when it’s presented as a sermon, but not in a hitva’adut. In a hitva’adut one gets the heart, the soul to speak. Because only once you expose your own pnimiyut (inner world), will the participants allow what you say to touch their pnimiyut.

So, please forgive me if I write somewhat freely today, continuing the hitva’adut on the keyboard.

So, where am I?

That’s all I said in the hitva’adut. This is the “Ayeka” that G-d asked Adam when he was in Gan Eden. This is the Ayeka that Ba’al Hatanya explained to the senior official while he was in jail. Ayeka is the question that G-d presents to man (and woman), every man/woman, every day. Where are? Where are you in your world? Are you in the place you should be? The piercing question relates to your world in general and to your spiritual world in particular.

The answer is of no interest.

The answer is not relevant.

The important thing is the question itself: Where are you?

I am not familiar with my audience tonight, the same way I do not know most of my readers. But I am sure of one thing: whoever knows to stop in mid-track in life’s race every once in a while and ask himself truthfully, “Ayeka?” is sure to live a meaningful life.

And a meaningful life is Heaven on earth.

L’chaim v’livracha – to life and to blessing,

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Zalmen Wishedski