How does one hold onto spiritual inspiration? How can one face the resistance of others, and oneself, when one is seeking that inspiration? What is the lesson of Yakov in his interaction with Esav?
Find out in this week's Parsha Podcast.
Running time: 18:44
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Monday, December 5, 2011
Keep the fire burning
One of my earliest memories as a child is awakening suddenly in the middle of the night, being brought by my parents out of the house, waiting in the car, and watching as the fire engines pulled up to our home. The scare was short-lived as the firemen discovered the source of the smoke in our home. The chimney of our fireplace, which was in use at the time, had been somewhat blocked by birds' nests, unbeknownst to us. The result was that the smoke had nowhere to go, and began to filter into our home, creating a potentially dangerous situation. The nests were summarily cleared, and our home once again returned to being its usual warm and smoke-free environment.
Recently, in pondering this event, I realized that it holds a powerful lesson for a healthy approach to ruchniyus.
Many of us are searching for something that will inspire us in our service of Hashem, something that we and our children can latch onto. In the face of the challenges that we as a community are confronting, the imperative to discover that inspiration becomes all the more pressing. We are looking for that fire that will warm our homes, filling up our lives and the lives of our families.
There are times when we believe we may have discovered that source of spiritual energy. Whether it is an inspiring Torah idea we have heard in a shiur, or it is a moving story that has caused us to stop and think, our new discovery can sometimes propel us forward and become a potential theme in our lives. We may often wish to share this idea with our spouse, with our children, and with others, and we sincerely attempt to live with the newfound knowledge we have acquired.
Suddenly, though, we can find ourselves encountering resistance. Here we are, trying to grow, trying to maintain the fire we have discovered, trying to hold on to that inspiration we have found, and others may not be as excited as we. We may even find our own fire starting to burn out, as we watch the smoke start to fill our lives. What is it exactly that serves as the birds' nests in the nimshal, and how do we clear them out so our inspiration can continue to burn brightly, remaining uncompromised?
To learn the secret to maintaining inspiration, we need to look to our avos hakedoshim for their personal example.
Yakov Avinu had been commanded by Hashem to gather his family and all of his possessions in order to return to Eretz Yisrael and begin the destiny of the Jewish people there. The promises Hashem had made to him years before, as he ran from his home toward Charan, would now begin to be fulfilled. He could also already see the beginning of the fulfillment of the brachos his father had given him, with the family he now had and the wealth he had amassed.
Yakov's return was a time of intense inspiration, as Rashi tells us (Bereshis 31:3), Hashem had promised that He would rest His Shechina on Yakov at this time. And at that very moment of his return, he was faced with powerful resistance in the form of Esav, who came out to greet his homecoming with four hundred armed men.
It is remarkably instructive to follow Yakov Avinu's approach to his brother's opposition. Firstly, if we look carefully at his tefillah at this perilous moment, we discover the surprising fact that he does not try to bypass nor deny his feelings, but rather, he is quite open and honest with Hashem about the emotions he is experiencing. He is not ashamed to admit that he is afraid of Esav, despite Hashem's promise of protection (See Rashi, Bereshis 28:15).
It is also important to note that based on Hashem's promise, Yakov could easily have decided to fight Esav and could have expected a miraculous victory. Yet, he completely gives himself over to the hand of Hashem, not even relying on any merits of his own to save himself. Furthermore,it seems that Yakov completely surrenders to Esav, giving him a lavish gift, and bowing to him seven times. Paradoxically, Yakov's seeming surrender earns him a complete victory to the point that not only does Esav no longer wish to fight, he even offers to accompany him and protect him.
Yakov's approach is a profound lesson in addressing the resistance we often encounter when we are in the process of spiritual growth. The fire of our inspiration is burning within us, yet there is something blocking the airflow, creating threatening smoke and opposition.
The first step is to use Yakov's strategy and acknowledge the resistance, which sometimes can manifest as a fear similar to Yakov's. We must be honest with ourselves and Hashem, even as we are aware that He is only interested in our best spiritual welfare. This could be comparable to the recognition that there is a bird's nest preventing proper air circulation.
The second step is to completely surrender ourselves to Hashem, not depending on ourselves in any way - whether it is our spiritual merits or our own hishtadlus. We turn to Him and ask Him for guidance. This could be comparable to calling the fire department, as the resistance we have encountered is too challenging to manage on our own.
At this point, the resistance that we have faced is released. Counterintuitively, this occurs through our seeming submission, and we find ourselves watching as Hashem transforms the conflict into peace, much as Yakov's submission to Esav transformed the latter's anger into love. Our willingness to acknowledge the resistance and to surrender to it takes the air out of the balloon, giving us the emotional space to redouble our spiritual efforts. The bird's nest is removed, and the airflow is once again restored, as the flame of inspiration again receives the life-giving oxygen it needs to continue to burn inside of us.
Recently, in pondering this event, I realized that it holds a powerful lesson for a healthy approach to ruchniyus.
Many of us are searching for something that will inspire us in our service of Hashem, something that we and our children can latch onto. In the face of the challenges that we as a community are confronting, the imperative to discover that inspiration becomes all the more pressing. We are looking for that fire that will warm our homes, filling up our lives and the lives of our families.
There are times when we believe we may have discovered that source of spiritual energy. Whether it is an inspiring Torah idea we have heard in a shiur, or it is a moving story that has caused us to stop and think, our new discovery can sometimes propel us forward and become a potential theme in our lives. We may often wish to share this idea with our spouse, with our children, and with others, and we sincerely attempt to live with the newfound knowledge we have acquired.
Suddenly, though, we can find ourselves encountering resistance. Here we are, trying to grow, trying to maintain the fire we have discovered, trying to hold on to that inspiration we have found, and others may not be as excited as we. We may even find our own fire starting to burn out, as we watch the smoke start to fill our lives. What is it exactly that serves as the birds' nests in the nimshal, and how do we clear them out so our inspiration can continue to burn brightly, remaining uncompromised?
To learn the secret to maintaining inspiration, we need to look to our avos hakedoshim for their personal example.
Yakov Avinu had been commanded by Hashem to gather his family and all of his possessions in order to return to Eretz Yisrael and begin the destiny of the Jewish people there. The promises Hashem had made to him years before, as he ran from his home toward Charan, would now begin to be fulfilled. He could also already see the beginning of the fulfillment of the brachos his father had given him, with the family he now had and the wealth he had amassed.
Yakov's return was a time of intense inspiration, as Rashi tells us (Bereshis 31:3), Hashem had promised that He would rest His Shechina on Yakov at this time. And at that very moment of his return, he was faced with powerful resistance in the form of Esav, who came out to greet his homecoming with four hundred armed men.
It is remarkably instructive to follow Yakov Avinu's approach to his brother's opposition. Firstly, if we look carefully at his tefillah at this perilous moment, we discover the surprising fact that he does not try to bypass nor deny his feelings, but rather, he is quite open and honest with Hashem about the emotions he is experiencing. He is not ashamed to admit that he is afraid of Esav, despite Hashem's promise of protection (See Rashi, Bereshis 28:15).
It is also important to note that based on Hashem's promise, Yakov could easily have decided to fight Esav and could have expected a miraculous victory. Yet, he completely gives himself over to the hand of Hashem, not even relying on any merits of his own to save himself. Furthermore,it seems that Yakov completely surrenders to Esav, giving him a lavish gift, and bowing to him seven times. Paradoxically, Yakov's seeming surrender earns him a complete victory to the point that not only does Esav no longer wish to fight, he even offers to accompany him and protect him.
Yakov's approach is a profound lesson in addressing the resistance we often encounter when we are in the process of spiritual growth. The fire of our inspiration is burning within us, yet there is something blocking the airflow, creating threatening smoke and opposition.
The first step is to use Yakov's strategy and acknowledge the resistance, which sometimes can manifest as a fear similar to Yakov's. We must be honest with ourselves and Hashem, even as we are aware that He is only interested in our best spiritual welfare. This could be comparable to the recognition that there is a bird's nest preventing proper air circulation.
The second step is to completely surrender ourselves to Hashem, not depending on ourselves in any way - whether it is our spiritual merits or our own hishtadlus. We turn to Him and ask Him for guidance. This could be comparable to calling the fire department, as the resistance we have encountered is too challenging to manage on our own.
At this point, the resistance that we have faced is released. Counterintuitively, this occurs through our seeming submission, and we find ourselves watching as Hashem transforms the conflict into peace, much as Yakov's submission to Esav transformed the latter's anger into love. Our willingness to acknowledge the resistance and to surrender to it takes the air out of the balloon, giving us the emotional space to redouble our spiritual efforts. The bird's nest is removed, and the airflow is once again restored, as the flame of inspiration again receives the life-giving oxygen it needs to continue to burn inside of us.
Friday, December 2, 2011
Gut Yontiff!
Today is the sixth of Kislev, which corresponds to the sixth of Sivan - Shavuos. It is exactly fifty days since the second day of Succos. As per the midrash, it would have been a holiday today, but Hashem instead placed Shmini Atzeres at the end of Succos.
Gut Yontiff!
Gut Yontiff!
Two articles on Kislev
I again wrote two different articles with the same theme that appeared in two different places, be'H. The first appeared on Aish.com, and the second will be appearing in the Beltway Buzz magazine of DC.
You will notice that they both start and end the same (basically).
Here is the Aish.com version:
The Autumn Triad
How the High Holiday season actually culminates with Chanukah.
When we think of the month of Kislev, we naturally think of the holiday of Chanukah that begins on the 25th day of the month. Looking on a deeper level, we can discern a thread that ties together the three-month period that consists of the months of Tishrei, Cheshvan and Kislev. We will also uncover a hidden connection between Sukkot and Chanukah.
If we carefully examine the structure of the year, we discern that the year consists of two sets of six months. One set begins with Tishrei, the month when we celebrate Rosh Hashana, Yom Kippur and Sukkot, and continues until the sixth month of the set, which is Adar and the holiday of Purim. The other set of six months begins with the month of Nissan, when we celebrate Passover, and continues through the summer, culminating with Elul, the preparatory month for the High Holidays.
All the structures of time are multiples of six.
It is significant to note that all the structures of time are multiples of six. The day consists of 24 hours, which is four sets of six hours. Each hour consists of 60 minutes, and each minute consists of 60 seconds, both 10 sets of six. Likewise, the year itself is two sets of six months.
These sets of six can be broken down further into two groups of three. Generally, sets of three can be described as being a manifestation of the concepts of thesis, antithesis and synthesis (See Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan's expansion of this concept in Sefer Yetzirah, p. 82). This means that the first aspect of a set of three is the initial concept. The second aspect is its polar opposite. The third aspect is the perfect synthesis, or balance, between the first two.
To understand this better, we can observe this pattern in many different contexts – for example, a debate between two individuals who maintain opposite opinions about a subject. The first person presents his opinion, and the second presents his opposing opinion. Generally, there is a certain truth that each side can agree to. While a kernel of truth is found in each of the respective views, one can find a higher truth which is a synthesis of the two opposing opinions.
Spiritual Synthesis
We can likewise discern this pattern in the months of the year. The months we have just passed through – Tishrei and Cheshvan, as well as the current month of Kislev – constitute a triad that functions in precisely the way we have been discussing. In Tishrei, we experience an intense opportunity for connection to God, as we ride the successive waves of the holidays of Rosh Hashana, Yom Kippur and Sukkot. As Tishrei draws to a close, the inspiration of those festive days becomes a memory as we enter into the month of Cheshvan, which is the polar opposite of Tishrei.
As discussed previously, Cheshvan is a month which is devoid of holidays, and is described as “the bitter month.” It is a time when the natural state of the world is one of distance from spiritual light. It is a time when we are to search within the darkness for the light of spirituality that seems to have been extinguished.
With the advent of Kislev, we begin to see the synthesis between the polar opposites of Tishrei and Cheshvan. The spiritual light for which we have been searching is now discernible, shining deep within the darkness. There is a balance between the inspiration of Tishrei, and the deeper personal work that is necessary in Cheshvan when there is no outside inspiration.
By contrast, the Second Temple was devoid of open miracles and prophecy.
This synthesis is aptly expressed in the holiday of Chanukah which begins on the 25th of Kislev. It is then that we celebrate and relive the experience of the Jewish people during the time of the Second Temple. That period was characterized by a lower level of spiritual light. Whereas the First Temple period was characterized by daily open miracles, as well as direct communication from God through the prophets, the Second Temple period was devoid of miracles and clear spiritual messages. The Hellenistic way of life disdained the spiritual and glorified the physical, and many Jews fell prey at that time to a hedonistic view of life. It was at that very moment of spiritual darkness that a small group of Jews were able to see past the darkness and find a spiritual light that shone deep within, to be expressed in the miracles of Chanukah.
Here we see two extremes: the open miracles of the First Temple, and the apparent spiritual darkness of the Second Temple. They are brought into synthesis with the subtle miracles of Chanukah – the many who fell in the hand of the few; a miraculous light that would shine for eight days instead of only one. These accomplishments paled in comparison to the miracles of the First Temple, but they represented the synthesis between human efforts and the aid God would provide to animate those efforts. Within the darkness, there was a vehicle we as humans could create for God to reveal Himself subtly in the world.
Clouds of Glory
With this idea we can understand a deeper connection between the holidays of Sukkot and Chanukah. Sukkot occurs in the month of Tishrei, the month of inspiration in this three-month set. It is the holiday when we sit in the sukkah, which helps us relive the experience of the Jewish people as they wandered through the wilderness for 40 years, completely surrounded by the spiritual clouds of God's glory. This revelatory experience was one that we could compare to a gift that the Jewish people received at that time.
We experience the polar opposite in the month of Cheshvan that follows, when our connection to spirituality is hidden. This darkness, however, creates the opportunity for us to create that vehicle for God's transcendent light to appear through our own efforts. The light of spirituality which was originally given as a gift, after the Exodus from Egypt, is finally revealed through human efforts with the advent of the story of Chanukah. Although the revelation is more subtle, it is one that represents the synthesis between God's spiritual gifts and our efforts in being able to reveal and receive those gifts.
We can now see that the three months of Tishrei, Cheshvan and Kislev is a period of time which is about developing our relationship with God, starting with the moment of inspiration, continuing through a more difficult period which depends on our investment, then culminating with the fruits of that determination being revealed as the eight nights of Chanukah light that shine forth through the darkness of winter.
The Beltway Buzz version:
When we think of the month of Kislev, we naturally think of the holiday of Chanukah that begins on the twenty fifth day of the month. If we turn back to our discussion from last month's column, we will note that there is another aspect that is intrinsic to Kislev. Looking at it on a deeper level, we will also be able to discern a thread that ties together the three month period that consists of the months of Tishrei, Chesvan and Kislev. We will also uncover a hidden connection between Succos and Chanukah.
We previously saw that just as there is a fifty day period connecting the holiday of Pesach and Shavuos, so too there was to have been a fifty day period connecting Succos to Shmini Atzeres. Hashem decided, however, to place the holiday of Shmini Atzeres in closer proximity to Succos because of the difficulty it would entail for the Jewish people to return fifty days later, as the winter season would already be upon them. Thus we see that Shmini Atzeres should have been on the sixth day of Kislev, just as Shavuos is on the sixth day of Sivan.
Once we have established the parallel between these two periods of time, we can draw a conclusion as to the similarity between them. Just as there is a buildup from Pesach, when the Jewish people experienced the Exodus, until Shavuos when the Jewish people received the Torah, there is a similar buildup from Succos until Kislev. On the surface, there does not seem to be a significant event that occurs during this time. However, if we follow the chronology of the Torah, an interesting picture starts to emerge, that is clearly and intimately connected to the Exodus and the receiving of the Torah.
The Jewish people experienced the revelation at Sinai on the sixth of Sivan of the year 2448 from creation. Forty days later, on the 17th of Tammuz, Moshe was to come down with the luchos, however, the sin of the Golden Calf occurred on that day, destroying their chances of receiving that which represented their covenant with Hashem. A few days later, Moshe returned to Sinai for another forty days, pleading for the Jewish people's forgiveness, until the first of Elul. He again went up for a third set of forty days until Yom Kippur, the tenth of Tishrei, when he came down with the second set of luchos, and complete forgiveness for the Jewish people's grievous sin.
At that point, Moshe gave the Jewish people the command to bring their donations for the Mishkan, the place that would become a central location for their service of Hashem. The Divine Presence could reside, once again, on the Jewish people, because of Hashem's forgiveness for their sin, and their efforts to create a sanctuary for their relationship. The raw materials were gathered by the fifteenth of Tishrei, the first day of Succos, and all the work to create the parts of the mishkan was started on that day and was completed almost two months later, on the twenty fifth of Kislev. Although all was ready, the actual dedication of the Mishkan was delayed until three months later, the end of Adar and the beginning of Nissan. The twenty fifth day of Kislev would have to wait for its moment in the sun until many centuries later with the miracle of Chanukah.
With this chronology in mind, we see that just as there was a time of development for the Jewish people from Nissan to Sivan, as they left Egypt and prepared to receive the Torah, there was a corresponding buildup that occurred from Tishrei to Kislev, as they invested their time in preparing the materials for the physical structure of the Mishkan. If we compare the two time periods, however, we can note that there is a very stark contrast between them. Whereas the springtime period which characterized the time of the Exodus was one of spectacular miracles, the wintertime period was one of strong involvement and concerted effort on the part of the Jewish people. Both time periods witnessed Hashem's Divine Presence resting upon His beloved people, which symbolized His relationship with them. At first, however, the relationship was given as a miraculous gift. After their fall from the relationship, it was necessary for that very connection to be earned through their own efforts.
If we take a deeper look at the holiday of Chanukah, we can now see how it corresponds to this idea and fits beautifully into the period on the calendar we are discussing. The story of Chanukah took place during the time of the second Beis Hamikdash. Whereas the time period of the first Beis Hamikdash was characterized by daily open miracles and Hashem's Presence clearly seen, the second Beis Hamikdash lacked any open miracles, and even the Aron Habris was absent from the Kodesh Hakadashim. During the first temple, the relationship between Am Yisrael and Hashem was clear and apparent. During the second, it was difficult to discern. The first temple period clearly parallels the time immediately after the Jewish people were redeemed from Egypt, when miracles were the norm. The second temple period clearly parallels the time when they fell from grace and lost their relationship, and had to earn that relationship again, through their concerted efforts.
If we focus on the three months of Tishrei, Cheshvan, and Kislev, we can see that this very pattern exists here as well. Tishrei is the month that we celebrate Hashem's Divine presence returning to the Jewish people, as the Succos remind us of the Clouds of Glory that protected us and returned to us as Hashem forgave us at this time. Cheshvan arrives, and we experience a type of estrangement in the relationship, as there is a certain distance, as represented by the lack of holidays and occasions to develop our relationship with Hashem. This is the period when it is up to us to spend our time building a place for Hashem to reside, as it were, the time when we are constructing the components of His dwelling here on Earth. Thus we have the first inspirational period of Tishrei, followed by dark period, Cheshvan, which is the time of our work and effort. Finally, Kislev is the month where we find the balance between these two extremes, where the work is completed, and ultimately, the miracle of Chanukah takes place, which represents the balanced relationship between our efforts and Hashem's involvement.
We thus see that Succos represents the inspiration for Hashem's Presence to dwell upon His people, and the months that follow represent our work to create a place for His presence, culminating in Chanukah when the work is complete, and the relationship has been formed as an interdependent reality. It is remarkable that each of the days of Chanukah is exactly seventy days after each of the days of Succos. The Maharsha in Moed Katan (28) points out that the 25th day of Adar, the day the world was created, is exactly seventy days before the sixth of Sivan, when the Torah was given. This teaches us that there is an intimate connection between two points on the calendar that are exactly ten weeks (seventy days) apart.
In light of our discussion, we can now see that this seventy day period which spans the three months of Tishrei, Cheshvan and Kislev, is a period of time which is about developing our relationship with Hashem, starting with the moment of inspiration, continuing through a more difficult period where there is a need for our investment into the relationship. This finally culminates with the fruits of that determination being revealed as the relationship begins to subtly shine forth with the eight nights of Chanukah light that shine through the darkness of the winter.
You will notice that they both start and end the same (basically).
Here is the Aish.com version:
The Autumn Triad
How the High Holiday season actually culminates with Chanukah.
When we think of the month of Kislev, we naturally think of the holiday of Chanukah that begins on the 25th day of the month. Looking on a deeper level, we can discern a thread that ties together the three-month period that consists of the months of Tishrei, Cheshvan and Kislev. We will also uncover a hidden connection between Sukkot and Chanukah.
If we carefully examine the structure of the year, we discern that the year consists of two sets of six months. One set begins with Tishrei, the month when we celebrate Rosh Hashana, Yom Kippur and Sukkot, and continues until the sixth month of the set, which is Adar and the holiday of Purim. The other set of six months begins with the month of Nissan, when we celebrate Passover, and continues through the summer, culminating with Elul, the preparatory month for the High Holidays.
All the structures of time are multiples of six.
It is significant to note that all the structures of time are multiples of six. The day consists of 24 hours, which is four sets of six hours. Each hour consists of 60 minutes, and each minute consists of 60 seconds, both 10 sets of six. Likewise, the year itself is two sets of six months.
These sets of six can be broken down further into two groups of three. Generally, sets of three can be described as being a manifestation of the concepts of thesis, antithesis and synthesis (See Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan's expansion of this concept in Sefer Yetzirah, p. 82). This means that the first aspect of a set of three is the initial concept. The second aspect is its polar opposite. The third aspect is the perfect synthesis, or balance, between the first two.
To understand this better, we can observe this pattern in many different contexts – for example, a debate between two individuals who maintain opposite opinions about a subject. The first person presents his opinion, and the second presents his opposing opinion. Generally, there is a certain truth that each side can agree to. While a kernel of truth is found in each of the respective views, one can find a higher truth which is a synthesis of the two opposing opinions.
Spiritual Synthesis
We can likewise discern this pattern in the months of the year. The months we have just passed through – Tishrei and Cheshvan, as well as the current month of Kislev – constitute a triad that functions in precisely the way we have been discussing. In Tishrei, we experience an intense opportunity for connection to God, as we ride the successive waves of the holidays of Rosh Hashana, Yom Kippur and Sukkot. As Tishrei draws to a close, the inspiration of those festive days becomes a memory as we enter into the month of Cheshvan, which is the polar opposite of Tishrei.
As discussed previously, Cheshvan is a month which is devoid of holidays, and is described as “the bitter month.” It is a time when the natural state of the world is one of distance from spiritual light. It is a time when we are to search within the darkness for the light of spirituality that seems to have been extinguished.
With the advent of Kislev, we begin to see the synthesis between the polar opposites of Tishrei and Cheshvan. The spiritual light for which we have been searching is now discernible, shining deep within the darkness. There is a balance between the inspiration of Tishrei, and the deeper personal work that is necessary in Cheshvan when there is no outside inspiration.
By contrast, the Second Temple was devoid of open miracles and prophecy.
This synthesis is aptly expressed in the holiday of Chanukah which begins on the 25th of Kislev. It is then that we celebrate and relive the experience of the Jewish people during the time of the Second Temple. That period was characterized by a lower level of spiritual light. Whereas the First Temple period was characterized by daily open miracles, as well as direct communication from God through the prophets, the Second Temple period was devoid of miracles and clear spiritual messages. The Hellenistic way of life disdained the spiritual and glorified the physical, and many Jews fell prey at that time to a hedonistic view of life. It was at that very moment of spiritual darkness that a small group of Jews were able to see past the darkness and find a spiritual light that shone deep within, to be expressed in the miracles of Chanukah.
Here we see two extremes: the open miracles of the First Temple, and the apparent spiritual darkness of the Second Temple. They are brought into synthesis with the subtle miracles of Chanukah – the many who fell in the hand of the few; a miraculous light that would shine for eight days instead of only one. These accomplishments paled in comparison to the miracles of the First Temple, but they represented the synthesis between human efforts and the aid God would provide to animate those efforts. Within the darkness, there was a vehicle we as humans could create for God to reveal Himself subtly in the world.
Clouds of Glory
With this idea we can understand a deeper connection between the holidays of Sukkot and Chanukah. Sukkot occurs in the month of Tishrei, the month of inspiration in this three-month set. It is the holiday when we sit in the sukkah, which helps us relive the experience of the Jewish people as they wandered through the wilderness for 40 years, completely surrounded by the spiritual clouds of God's glory. This revelatory experience was one that we could compare to a gift that the Jewish people received at that time.
We experience the polar opposite in the month of Cheshvan that follows, when our connection to spirituality is hidden. This darkness, however, creates the opportunity for us to create that vehicle for God's transcendent light to appear through our own efforts. The light of spirituality which was originally given as a gift, after the Exodus from Egypt, is finally revealed through human efforts with the advent of the story of Chanukah. Although the revelation is more subtle, it is one that represents the synthesis between God's spiritual gifts and our efforts in being able to reveal and receive those gifts.
We can now see that the three months of Tishrei, Cheshvan and Kislev is a period of time which is about developing our relationship with God, starting with the moment of inspiration, continuing through a more difficult period which depends on our investment, then culminating with the fruits of that determination being revealed as the eight nights of Chanukah light that shine forth through the darkness of winter.
The Beltway Buzz version:
When we think of the month of Kislev, we naturally think of the holiday of Chanukah that begins on the twenty fifth day of the month. If we turn back to our discussion from last month's column, we will note that there is another aspect that is intrinsic to Kislev. Looking at it on a deeper level, we will also be able to discern a thread that ties together the three month period that consists of the months of Tishrei, Chesvan and Kislev. We will also uncover a hidden connection between Succos and Chanukah.
We previously saw that just as there is a fifty day period connecting the holiday of Pesach and Shavuos, so too there was to have been a fifty day period connecting Succos to Shmini Atzeres. Hashem decided, however, to place the holiday of Shmini Atzeres in closer proximity to Succos because of the difficulty it would entail for the Jewish people to return fifty days later, as the winter season would already be upon them. Thus we see that Shmini Atzeres should have been on the sixth day of Kislev, just as Shavuos is on the sixth day of Sivan.
Once we have established the parallel between these two periods of time, we can draw a conclusion as to the similarity between them. Just as there is a buildup from Pesach, when the Jewish people experienced the Exodus, until Shavuos when the Jewish people received the Torah, there is a similar buildup from Succos until Kislev. On the surface, there does not seem to be a significant event that occurs during this time. However, if we follow the chronology of the Torah, an interesting picture starts to emerge, that is clearly and intimately connected to the Exodus and the receiving of the Torah.
The Jewish people experienced the revelation at Sinai on the sixth of Sivan of the year 2448 from creation. Forty days later, on the 17th of Tammuz, Moshe was to come down with the luchos, however, the sin of the Golden Calf occurred on that day, destroying their chances of receiving that which represented their covenant with Hashem. A few days later, Moshe returned to Sinai for another forty days, pleading for the Jewish people's forgiveness, until the first of Elul. He again went up for a third set of forty days until Yom Kippur, the tenth of Tishrei, when he came down with the second set of luchos, and complete forgiveness for the Jewish people's grievous sin.
At that point, Moshe gave the Jewish people the command to bring their donations for the Mishkan, the place that would become a central location for their service of Hashem. The Divine Presence could reside, once again, on the Jewish people, because of Hashem's forgiveness for their sin, and their efforts to create a sanctuary for their relationship. The raw materials were gathered by the fifteenth of Tishrei, the first day of Succos, and all the work to create the parts of the mishkan was started on that day and was completed almost two months later, on the twenty fifth of Kislev. Although all was ready, the actual dedication of the Mishkan was delayed until three months later, the end of Adar and the beginning of Nissan. The twenty fifth day of Kislev would have to wait for its moment in the sun until many centuries later with the miracle of Chanukah.
With this chronology in mind, we see that just as there was a time of development for the Jewish people from Nissan to Sivan, as they left Egypt and prepared to receive the Torah, there was a corresponding buildup that occurred from Tishrei to Kislev, as they invested their time in preparing the materials for the physical structure of the Mishkan. If we compare the two time periods, however, we can note that there is a very stark contrast between them. Whereas the springtime period which characterized the time of the Exodus was one of spectacular miracles, the wintertime period was one of strong involvement and concerted effort on the part of the Jewish people. Both time periods witnessed Hashem's Divine Presence resting upon His beloved people, which symbolized His relationship with them. At first, however, the relationship was given as a miraculous gift. After their fall from the relationship, it was necessary for that very connection to be earned through their own efforts.
If we take a deeper look at the holiday of Chanukah, we can now see how it corresponds to this idea and fits beautifully into the period on the calendar we are discussing. The story of Chanukah took place during the time of the second Beis Hamikdash. Whereas the time period of the first Beis Hamikdash was characterized by daily open miracles and Hashem's Presence clearly seen, the second Beis Hamikdash lacked any open miracles, and even the Aron Habris was absent from the Kodesh Hakadashim. During the first temple, the relationship between Am Yisrael and Hashem was clear and apparent. During the second, it was difficult to discern. The first temple period clearly parallels the time immediately after the Jewish people were redeemed from Egypt, when miracles were the norm. The second temple period clearly parallels the time when they fell from grace and lost their relationship, and had to earn that relationship again, through their concerted efforts.
If we focus on the three months of Tishrei, Cheshvan, and Kislev, we can see that this very pattern exists here as well. Tishrei is the month that we celebrate Hashem's Divine presence returning to the Jewish people, as the Succos remind us of the Clouds of Glory that protected us and returned to us as Hashem forgave us at this time. Cheshvan arrives, and we experience a type of estrangement in the relationship, as there is a certain distance, as represented by the lack of holidays and occasions to develop our relationship with Hashem. This is the period when it is up to us to spend our time building a place for Hashem to reside, as it were, the time when we are constructing the components of His dwelling here on Earth. Thus we have the first inspirational period of Tishrei, followed by dark period, Cheshvan, which is the time of our work and effort. Finally, Kislev is the month where we find the balance between these two extremes, where the work is completed, and ultimately, the miracle of Chanukah takes place, which represents the balanced relationship between our efforts and Hashem's involvement.
We thus see that Succos represents the inspiration for Hashem's Presence to dwell upon His people, and the months that follow represent our work to create a place for His presence, culminating in Chanukah when the work is complete, and the relationship has been formed as an interdependent reality. It is remarkable that each of the days of Chanukah is exactly seventy days after each of the days of Succos. The Maharsha in Moed Katan (28) points out that the 25th day of Adar, the day the world was created, is exactly seventy days before the sixth of Sivan, when the Torah was given. This teaches us that there is an intimate connection between two points on the calendar that are exactly ten weeks (seventy days) apart.
In light of our discussion, we can now see that this seventy day period which spans the three months of Tishrei, Cheshvan and Kislev, is a period of time which is about developing our relationship with Hashem, starting with the moment of inspiration, continuing through a more difficult period where there is a need for our investment into the relationship. This finally culminates with the fruits of that determination being revealed as the relationship begins to subtly shine forth with the eight nights of Chanukah light that shine through the darkness of the winter.
Vayetzei - Thanks and surrender
What can we learn from the names Leah gave her children? What is the progression we observe? Why does she thank Hashem with Yehuda's birth? What is the connection between thanks and admission (surrender)? How does one surrender when the ego is strong?
Find out in this week's Parsha Podcast.
Running time: 24:02
Find out in this week's Parsha Podcast.
Running time: 24:02
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Toldos - Space for defiance
What is the connection between Isaac's passivity in the face of the king of Gerar, and Yaakov's running away from Esav after stealing the blessings? What is the concept of the 'time of defiance?' When is one to be passive in the face of judgments? What is the concept of 'giving space for defiance?'
Find out in this week's Parsha Podcast.
Running time: 22:24
Find out in this week's Parsha Podcast.
Running time: 22:24
Friday, November 18, 2011
Chayei Sarah - Neshama, the lit candle
What is the connection between the story of Avraham and the angels to his discovery of the cave of Machpela? What is the concept of the 'lit candle' he finds there? What is the connection between Adam's burial there and Avraham? What is the concept of a kever, which means womb as well as grave? What is the concept of Chevron, the city of the patriarchs?
Find out in this week's Parsha Podcast.
Running time: 21:46
Find out in this week's Parsha Podcast.
Running time: 21:46
Friday, November 11, 2011
Vayera - Revealing God's plan
Why does Avraham's meeting with the angels occur in conjunction with Pesach? Why does the destruction of Sodom occur concurrently? Why is Yitzchak born on Pesach? Why does the binding of Isaac occur on Pesach? Why does Lot's conception with his daughters occur then, as well?
Find out in this week's Parsha Podcast.
Running time: 23:08
Find out in this week's Parsha Podcast.
Running time: 23:08
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Lech Lecha - Avraham and Canaan
Why do the people of Canaan inhabit the holy land? Why does Hashem seem to send Avraham to specifically do his outreach with the Canaanites? What is Sodom's connection to Avraham? What is the king of Sodom's connection to MalkiTzedek? Why was Canaan cursed by Noach to be a slave to Shem?
Find out in this week's Parsha Podcast.
Running time: 22:48
Find out in this week's Parsha Podcast.
Running time: 22:48
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
two articles and audio on Cheshvan
I recently wrote two different articles with the same theme that appeared in two different places, be'H. The first appeared on Aish.com, and the second will be appearing in the Beltway Buzz magazine of DC. Much of the BB version is found in the podcast on Parshas Noach.
You will notice that they both start and end the same (basically).
Click here for an audio version of this, with many added pieces of information not included in either of the written versions, nor in the podcast on Parshas Noach.
Here is the Aish.com version:
The Bitter Month
Cheshvan is when darkness reigns, yet growth begins deep beneath the surface.
The current Hebrew month, Cheshvan, is classically referred to as Marcheshvan, the prefix of which is the word mar. In Hebrew, this word means “bitter,” which our Sages connect to the fact that there are no special occasions that occur in this month. Even Av, the month when we mourn the destruction of the two Holy Temples, is not referred to as “bitter,” because the sad days of the year offer us an opportunity for introspection, to contemplate where we have gone wrong. Thus, both the festive days and the negative days can be used to connect to spirituality. A month that is bereft of any significant days, even sad days, is more bitter than anything, because there are no moments that arise to give us pause.
It is significant to note that the original name of this month was not Marcheshvan. This Babylonian name was adopted when the Jews went through the 70-year exile between the first and second temples. The original Hebrew name for the month was Bul, which denotes the idea of “drying up,” as the leaves begin to decay with the approach of Autumn.
Clearly, the month of Marcheshvan, or Bul, as its name suggests, is a month of darkness and decay. Indeed, the biblical Book of Kings cites Bul as the month when King Solomon completed the construction of the first Temple – though the dedication did not take place until a year later, in the Hebrew month of Tishrei. What is the deeper significance of this, and what can we learn from it?
Two Key Events
If we search further, we find two other events that occurred in the month of Cheshvan. The first was the flood in the times of Noah. The flood began on the 17th of Cheshvan, and the waters receded by the following year on the 27th of Cheshvan, allowing Noah and the other inhabitants of the ark to disembark. Interestingly, one explanation of the name Bul is that it stems from this month as the beginning of the rainy season in Israel; it is thus connected to the word mabul, flood – an overabundance of rain.
It is significant to note that the flood was originally intended to begin on the 11th of Cheshvan. However, Methuselah passed away, and thus the flood was delayed in deference to the seven-day period of mourning that followed his death.
The second important event that occurred in Cheshvan seems unrelated at first glance. This was the death of Jacob's wife Rachel, as well as the birth of Benjamin, which occurred on the 11th of Cheshvan. It was precisely the same day as Methusaleh's death, the very day that flood had originally been slated to begin. As there are no coincidences in the Torah, we must ask: What is the connection between these two events, and what do they reveal about the essence of the month of Cheshvan?
In thinking about what the matriarch Rachel and her son Benjamin stand for, respectively, we can see that Rachel represents the Jewish people in exile, and Benjamin represents the completed state of the Jewish people in the Land of Israel. Rachel spent her entire life outside of Israel, and passed away just as Jacob and his family entered the holy land. As our Sages tell us, her spirit accompanied the Jewish people as they went into Babylonian exile, and it is she who cries for her children in exile until the final redemption comes.
In contrast, Benjamin is the last son of Jacob, the twelfth of the tribes, whose birth marks the completion of the people of Israel. He is also the only son of Jacob that is born in Israel, and thus represents the Jewish people's perfected state in the land of Israel. This is further underscored, as the Ramchal explains, by the fact that Saul, the first king of the Jewish people, came from the tribe of Benjamin. Furthermore, the miracle of Purim, which immediately preceded the return of the Jews to Israel and the building of the Second Temple, was brought about through the vehicle of Mordechai and Esther, who came from the tribe of Benjamin.
Deep Hibernation
Exploring further, we see that the very death of Rachel resulted in the birth of Benjamin. This would correspond to the idea that the exile itself is that which births the redemption. The descent into darkness creates the potential for the future light.
This theme can be seen in the flood, as well. Although the world in its previous state came to an end, at the same time, there was a new beginning which was being sown in the person of Noah. The very passing of Methusaleh opened the curtain for Noah to assume leadership of the next generation. The death of the previous order gave rise to a new potential for growth.
Now we can explain the essence of the month of Cheshvan, as brought to light by the events that occurred in this month. Cheshvan is a time that is “bitter,” for there seems to be no opportunities for growth and spiritual connection. It is a time of deterioration, as the leaves wither and the world enters a state of deep hibernation. And yet, it is also a time when the rains begin, when the potential for future growth is being sown. It is a time when spiritual darkness reigns, yet when spiritual growth begins deep beneath the surface. It is the moment when Rachel passes on, when all seems bleak, when the darkness of exile closes in; and it is the moment of the birth of Benjamin, the seed of the Jewish people's perfected state, which is sown in that very darkness.
Cheshvan begins the extended time span between the last festival, Sukkot, and the next, Passover. In the meantime, the spiritual seeds planted during the Jewish month of Tishrei begin to take root – to be watered and to grow, finally appearing and bearing fruit in Nissan of next year.
The message of Cheshvan is that despite the darkness, and even because of the darkness, there is future growth that awaits us. We have the opportunity to nurture that right at this moment. It is now that we gather the seeds from the holidays of the month of Tishrei, plant them, and carefully water them through the winter months. With God's help, we will soon marvel at the beautiful spring bounty that we merit to cultivate.
The Beltway Buzz version:
The current month, Cheshvan, is often referred to as Marcheshvan. In Hebrew, the prefix mar means bitter, and our sages teach us that it is called bitter because no special occasions occur this month. Even Av, the month when we mourn the destruction of the two temples, is not referred to as bitter, because the sad days of the year offer us an opportunity for introspection--to contemplate where we have gone wrong in our relationship with Hashem. Thus, both the festive days and the negative days can be used to connect to spirituality. A month that lacks any significant days--even sad days--is especially bitter, because there are no occasions that give us pause.
One could ask, “Why would Hashem give us a month that seems to be so spiritually desolate, with no opportunities for connection? Is there any merit to be found for this month? What is the proper spiritual approach to Cheshvan?”
To answer this question, let us turn to a midrash in פיסקא דרב כהנא פיסקא ל, which does not seem to be related to our discussion. The Torah commands us to observe the three festivals--Pesach, Shavuos and Succos. The second day of Pesach is the start of a 50-day count leading up to Shavuos, thus connecting these two holidays. Similarly, the midrash points out, there is a separate holiday that is connected to Succos. It is Shmini Atzeres, which might be considered the eighth day of Succos, but is actually a separate holiday
The midrash goes on to explain that just as Shavuos is 50 days after Pesach, Shmini Atzeres should have been 50 days after Succos. However, because the rainy and cold season in Israel begins immediately after Succos, Hashem saw fit to have the Jewish people celebrate Shmini Atzeres immediately after Succos, instead of bothering them to return 50 days later during the cold winter months.
The midrash explains this with an analogy: There was once a king whose children lived in many different locations--some of them, near his palace; others, in very distant lands. After the children visited him, when it came time to leave, the king had two distinct approaches, depending on the child. Those who lived nearby were allowed to leave without further ado, as they would surely return soon, because the journey was not difficult. But those who lived far away were asked to stay an additional day, for their distance would discourage them from returning quickly.
During the spring, when Pesach occurs, we are like the children who live nearby. Hashem lets us return home right after Pesach, for He knows it will be an easy to return to the Beis Hamikdash for Shavuos. However, during the winter, we are like the children who live far away and whose journey is more difficult. Thus, Shmini Atzeres is not delayed; rather, it immediately follows Succos.
In order to understand this midrash on a deeper level, we need to focus on how the calendar works. We generally think of the year as a span of 12 (and sometimes 13) months. However, a year is also two units of 6 months each that parallel each other. We have the 6 months from Nissan through Elul, and then we have the 6 months from Tishrei through Adar. We find a clear connection between Pesach and Succos, which occur on the 15 of Nissan and Tishrei, respectively. The Gemara notesin Succah 27A that the Torah uses the phrase ”חמשה עשר”--the 15th day of the month—in referring to both Pesach and Succos. This common phraseology is used to create a parallel between those two holidays. The deeper sources also speak of a connection between Tu b'Av and Tu b'Shvat, which occur on the 15th day of the fifth month of each set of 6 months.
If we examine the character of the 6 months that begin with Nissan, and contrast that with the character of the 6 months that begin with Tishrei, we see a cyclic pattern. The months from Nissan to Elul may be seen as a time of spiritual growth and natural closeness to Hashem. This is reflected in the warm and pleasant weather, as well as in the longer days, which are naturally conducive to that spiritual level. In contrast, the months from Tishrei to Adar represent the opposite expression of the spiritual cycle, when the challenges in spirituality are greater and when there is a natural distance from Hashem. This is reflected, as well, by the cold, rainy, and shorter days, which make it more challenging to connect spiritually.
If we were to consider which part of the year is greater, we might be inclined to say that it is the spring and summer period, which is a time of more obvious growth. In truth, however, the deeper growth occurs when that very growth is challenged. To be positive and upbeat when one is in a good mood is natural. To maintain a positive outlook when the going gets rough is much harder. It is a greater testament to one's emotional strength.
In light of this, we can explain the essence of the month of Cheshvan. It is, indeed, a bitter time, for there seem to be no opportunities for growth and connection to Hashem. It is a time of deterioration, as the leaves wither and the world enters a state of deep hibernation. And yet, it is also a time when the rains begin, when the potential for future growth is being sown. It is a time when spiritual darkness reigns, and when spiritual growth begins deep beneath the surface.
Cheshvan begins the extended time span between the last regel, Succos, and the next one, Pesach. In the meantime, the spiritual seed that we planted in Tishrei begins to take root, to be watered, and to grow--finally appearing and bearing fruit in Nissan of the following year.
The message of Cheshvan is that, despite the darkness, and even because of the darkness, future growth awaits us and we have the opportunity to begin to nurture it right at this moment. We now have the opportunity to gather the seeds we received from the holidays of the month of Tishrei, to plant them and carefully water them through the winter months. With Hashem's help, we will certainly marvel at the beautiful spring bounty that we have merited to cultivate.
You will notice that they both start and end the same (basically).
Click here for an audio version of this, with many added pieces of information not included in either of the written versions, nor in the podcast on Parshas Noach.
Here is the Aish.com version:
The Bitter Month
Cheshvan is when darkness reigns, yet growth begins deep beneath the surface.
The current Hebrew month, Cheshvan, is classically referred to as Marcheshvan, the prefix of which is the word mar. In Hebrew, this word means “bitter,” which our Sages connect to the fact that there are no special occasions that occur in this month. Even Av, the month when we mourn the destruction of the two Holy Temples, is not referred to as “bitter,” because the sad days of the year offer us an opportunity for introspection, to contemplate where we have gone wrong. Thus, both the festive days and the negative days can be used to connect to spirituality. A month that is bereft of any significant days, even sad days, is more bitter than anything, because there are no moments that arise to give us pause.
It is significant to note that the original name of this month was not Marcheshvan. This Babylonian name was adopted when the Jews went through the 70-year exile between the first and second temples. The original Hebrew name for the month was Bul, which denotes the idea of “drying up,” as the leaves begin to decay with the approach of Autumn.
Clearly, the month of Marcheshvan, or Bul, as its name suggests, is a month of darkness and decay. Indeed, the biblical Book of Kings cites Bul as the month when King Solomon completed the construction of the first Temple – though the dedication did not take place until a year later, in the Hebrew month of Tishrei. What is the deeper significance of this, and what can we learn from it?
Two Key Events
If we search further, we find two other events that occurred in the month of Cheshvan. The first was the flood in the times of Noah. The flood began on the 17th of Cheshvan, and the waters receded by the following year on the 27th of Cheshvan, allowing Noah and the other inhabitants of the ark to disembark. Interestingly, one explanation of the name Bul is that it stems from this month as the beginning of the rainy season in Israel; it is thus connected to the word mabul, flood – an overabundance of rain.
It is significant to note that the flood was originally intended to begin on the 11th of Cheshvan. However, Methuselah passed away, and thus the flood was delayed in deference to the seven-day period of mourning that followed his death.
The second important event that occurred in Cheshvan seems unrelated at first glance. This was the death of Jacob's wife Rachel, as well as the birth of Benjamin, which occurred on the 11th of Cheshvan. It was precisely the same day as Methusaleh's death, the very day that flood had originally been slated to begin. As there are no coincidences in the Torah, we must ask: What is the connection between these two events, and what do they reveal about the essence of the month of Cheshvan?
In thinking about what the matriarch Rachel and her son Benjamin stand for, respectively, we can see that Rachel represents the Jewish people in exile, and Benjamin represents the completed state of the Jewish people in the Land of Israel. Rachel spent her entire life outside of Israel, and passed away just as Jacob and his family entered the holy land. As our Sages tell us, her spirit accompanied the Jewish people as they went into Babylonian exile, and it is she who cries for her children in exile until the final redemption comes.
In contrast, Benjamin is the last son of Jacob, the twelfth of the tribes, whose birth marks the completion of the people of Israel. He is also the only son of Jacob that is born in Israel, and thus represents the Jewish people's perfected state in the land of Israel. This is further underscored, as the Ramchal explains, by the fact that Saul, the first king of the Jewish people, came from the tribe of Benjamin. Furthermore, the miracle of Purim, which immediately preceded the return of the Jews to Israel and the building of the Second Temple, was brought about through the vehicle of Mordechai and Esther, who came from the tribe of Benjamin.
Deep Hibernation
Exploring further, we see that the very death of Rachel resulted in the birth of Benjamin. This would correspond to the idea that the exile itself is that which births the redemption. The descent into darkness creates the potential for the future light.
This theme can be seen in the flood, as well. Although the world in its previous state came to an end, at the same time, there was a new beginning which was being sown in the person of Noah. The very passing of Methusaleh opened the curtain for Noah to assume leadership of the next generation. The death of the previous order gave rise to a new potential for growth.
Now we can explain the essence of the month of Cheshvan, as brought to light by the events that occurred in this month. Cheshvan is a time that is “bitter,” for there seems to be no opportunities for growth and spiritual connection. It is a time of deterioration, as the leaves wither and the world enters a state of deep hibernation. And yet, it is also a time when the rains begin, when the potential for future growth is being sown. It is a time when spiritual darkness reigns, yet when spiritual growth begins deep beneath the surface. It is the moment when Rachel passes on, when all seems bleak, when the darkness of exile closes in; and it is the moment of the birth of Benjamin, the seed of the Jewish people's perfected state, which is sown in that very darkness.
Cheshvan begins the extended time span between the last festival, Sukkot, and the next, Passover. In the meantime, the spiritual seeds planted during the Jewish month of Tishrei begin to take root – to be watered and to grow, finally appearing and bearing fruit in Nissan of next year.
The message of Cheshvan is that despite the darkness, and even because of the darkness, there is future growth that awaits us. We have the opportunity to nurture that right at this moment. It is now that we gather the seeds from the holidays of the month of Tishrei, plant them, and carefully water them through the winter months. With God's help, we will soon marvel at the beautiful spring bounty that we merit to cultivate.
The Beltway Buzz version:
The current month, Cheshvan, is often referred to as Marcheshvan. In Hebrew, the prefix mar means bitter, and our sages teach us that it is called bitter because no special occasions occur this month. Even Av, the month when we mourn the destruction of the two temples, is not referred to as bitter, because the sad days of the year offer us an opportunity for introspection--to contemplate where we have gone wrong in our relationship with Hashem. Thus, both the festive days and the negative days can be used to connect to spirituality. A month that lacks any significant days--even sad days--is especially bitter, because there are no occasions that give us pause.
One could ask, “Why would Hashem give us a month that seems to be so spiritually desolate, with no opportunities for connection? Is there any merit to be found for this month? What is the proper spiritual approach to Cheshvan?”
To answer this question, let us turn to a midrash in פיסקא דרב כהנא פיסקא ל, which does not seem to be related to our discussion. The Torah commands us to observe the three festivals--Pesach, Shavuos and Succos. The second day of Pesach is the start of a 50-day count leading up to Shavuos, thus connecting these two holidays. Similarly, the midrash points out, there is a separate holiday that is connected to Succos. It is Shmini Atzeres, which might be considered the eighth day of Succos, but is actually a separate holiday
The midrash goes on to explain that just as Shavuos is 50 days after Pesach, Shmini Atzeres should have been 50 days after Succos. However, because the rainy and cold season in Israel begins immediately after Succos, Hashem saw fit to have the Jewish people celebrate Shmini Atzeres immediately after Succos, instead of bothering them to return 50 days later during the cold winter months.
The midrash explains this with an analogy: There was once a king whose children lived in many different locations--some of them, near his palace; others, in very distant lands. After the children visited him, when it came time to leave, the king had two distinct approaches, depending on the child. Those who lived nearby were allowed to leave without further ado, as they would surely return soon, because the journey was not difficult. But those who lived far away were asked to stay an additional day, for their distance would discourage them from returning quickly.
During the spring, when Pesach occurs, we are like the children who live nearby. Hashem lets us return home right after Pesach, for He knows it will be an easy to return to the Beis Hamikdash for Shavuos. However, during the winter, we are like the children who live far away and whose journey is more difficult. Thus, Shmini Atzeres is not delayed; rather, it immediately follows Succos.
In order to understand this midrash on a deeper level, we need to focus on how the calendar works. We generally think of the year as a span of 12 (and sometimes 13) months. However, a year is also two units of 6 months each that parallel each other. We have the 6 months from Nissan through Elul, and then we have the 6 months from Tishrei through Adar. We find a clear connection between Pesach and Succos, which occur on the 15 of Nissan and Tishrei, respectively. The Gemara notesin Succah 27A that the Torah uses the phrase ”חמשה עשר”--the 15th day of the month—in referring to both Pesach and Succos. This common phraseology is used to create a parallel between those two holidays. The deeper sources also speak of a connection between Tu b'Av and Tu b'Shvat, which occur on the 15th day of the fifth month of each set of 6 months.
If we examine the character of the 6 months that begin with Nissan, and contrast that with the character of the 6 months that begin with Tishrei, we see a cyclic pattern. The months from Nissan to Elul may be seen as a time of spiritual growth and natural closeness to Hashem. This is reflected in the warm and pleasant weather, as well as in the longer days, which are naturally conducive to that spiritual level. In contrast, the months from Tishrei to Adar represent the opposite expression of the spiritual cycle, when the challenges in spirituality are greater and when there is a natural distance from Hashem. This is reflected, as well, by the cold, rainy, and shorter days, which make it more challenging to connect spiritually.
If we were to consider which part of the year is greater, we might be inclined to say that it is the spring and summer period, which is a time of more obvious growth. In truth, however, the deeper growth occurs when that very growth is challenged. To be positive and upbeat when one is in a good mood is natural. To maintain a positive outlook when the going gets rough is much harder. It is a greater testament to one's emotional strength.
In light of this, we can explain the essence of the month of Cheshvan. It is, indeed, a bitter time, for there seem to be no opportunities for growth and connection to Hashem. It is a time of deterioration, as the leaves wither and the world enters a state of deep hibernation. And yet, it is also a time when the rains begin, when the potential for future growth is being sown. It is a time when spiritual darkness reigns, and when spiritual growth begins deep beneath the surface.
Cheshvan begins the extended time span between the last regel, Succos, and the next one, Pesach. In the meantime, the spiritual seed that we planted in Tishrei begins to take root, to be watered, and to grow--finally appearing and bearing fruit in Nissan of the following year.
The message of Cheshvan is that, despite the darkness, and even because of the darkness, future growth awaits us and we have the opportunity to begin to nurture it right at this moment. We now have the opportunity to gather the seeds we received from the holidays of the month of Tishrei, to plant them and carefully water them through the winter months. With Hashem's help, we will certainly marvel at the beautiful spring bounty that we have merited to cultivate.
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