The prolonged suffering in exile is a peleh, beyond reason, a wonder. * G-d whispers its inner meaning through the wonders in the Torah.
By Rabbi Boruch Merkur
We approach Shavuos perplexed by the tragedy of this year’s Lag B’Omer in Meron. Truly a wonder, a peleh, to be hit so hard now. Now, when we’ve suffered collectively for so long and there was finally hope for pure joy, celebrating something so pure and holy.
The bonfire meant to dance around, to rejoice in the light of Torah, brought so much confusion and darkness to us all, thick smoke, עש”ן, at all levels - space, time, spirit/person (עולם, שנה, נפש) - tragedy in the most auspicious place, Meron, the most joyous time, Lag B’Omer, and upon those people who had the spirit to celebrate it the most.
All this - in תשפ״א, the year designated in the Rebbe’s prophecy as transformative of “אף (wrath)” to פ״א, “revealed wonders (פלאות אראנו).”
Wonders? This was clearly a lashing out in wrath!
*
“You shall say on that day: I give thanks to You, G-d, for You lashed out at me (אוֹדְךָ֣ ה’ כִּ֥י אָנַ֖פְתָּ בִּ֑י).” —Yeshaya 12:1
At first glance, what thanks is there in G-d “lashing out at me”? … Greater gratitude is expressed in never having suffered G-d’s wrath to begin with! Yet the thanks here is specifically for G-d “lashing out at me.”
The explanation is that it is precisely through the descent into exile, into gola, in a manner of “You lashed out at me,” that brings the uplifted state of redemption, including its greatest heights – the Alef (אלף)revealed as its letters rearrange to spell “peleh-wonder” ((פלא.
When the harsh exile’s inner meaning is revealed - the Alef (of peleh) within gola - that insight expresses, “I give thanks to You, G-d, for You lashed out at me.” “Here there is gratitude for something that is a wonder (peleh), transcending reason and (mortal) wisdom … described by our Sages as,[1] ‘Seek not things concealed from you.’”[2]
But this recognition itself brings the inexplicable to be openly revealed to the mind as wisdom … It is specifically through the Divine service of prevailing over the darkness of exile that we come to the perfect revelation of the inner dimension of the Torah, in the true and complete redemption.[3]
*
We live in a tumultuous world, sometimes akin to the madness of a stampede or buckling against barricades confining an uncontainable sea of humanity, ebbing and flowing in the seeming chaos. We are enjoined, however, not to cower and submit to darkness and despair, but to face everything with equanimity, menucha, tranquility:
“If your heart races, return to one - אם רץ לבך שוב לאחד.”[4] … “(Return to) one” means to fulfill G-d’s will, unconcerned by the dynamic motion of the heart (be it racing or settling, ratzo or shov), but fulfilling G-d’s singular will (where there is no difference between ratzo or shov).
Devotion is not elitist in the sense of favoring any particular Mitzva or manner of service. Racing and settling together form a singular rhythm. Every cadence is rich with unique beauty and meaning. What we are required to do at any given moment is not determined but what we fancy. It is, rather, a mission to accept – in all its details - with equal purpose: “(As in the well-known expression), ‘even had we been commanded to chop wood [we would serve Him in that way].’”[5]
Here the Rebbe cites Likkutei Torah,[6] where it says:
We can relate to Mitzvos in two ways. One approach considers the effect of the Mitzva itself, since it draws and brings about Divine unity Above … But this is not service, avoda, for there is a reason, a motive. This is, rather, approaching a Mitzva as if it were a remedy or segula, etc.
The second approach is to regard a Mitzva as the King’s arbitrary commandment, a whim, obliging us to fulfill it irrespective of any spiritual unification it results in - even had we been commanded to chop wood, for example [i.e., something that does not result in G-dly revelations]. Once commanded, the otherwise mundane activity becomes the King’s directive, with no consideration of a reason.[7]
Interestingly, the Rebbe points out a very different use of “had we been commanded to chop wood,” in Rambam:
A similar expression is found in Guide for the Perplexed 3:51, in the note: “If we perform the commandments bodily [but absentmindedly, just going through the motions], we are like those who dig the ground or chop wood in the forest.” But in that context it is cited as an analogy for one who performs a Mitzva without any intent at all (certainly “not recognizing the One Who commands it to be done, etc.”).[8]
Rambam’s use of this phrase is the exact opposite of how the Alter Rebbe uses it. In Rambam’s Guide, this kind of manual labor illustrates an activity that is completely devoid of intent, like an automaton, or a lumberjack with his eye on the clock, waiting for his lunchbreak. The Alter Rebbe, on the other hand, describes a mundane activity that can be infused with the utmost meaning. In fact, it is the paradigm for true avoda. All other approaches to Mitzvos are self-serving (“like a remedy or segula”). True intent is only possible when there is no reason considered.
The curious thing about the Alter Rebbe’s use of this phrase though - selecting woodchopping as the paradigm for arbitrary, meaningless activity - is that in those days, you couldn’t even have a coffee without chopping and kindling wood!
The simplest answer is that it is beneath the dignity of one who is capable of fashioning jewelry, for example, to spend his time baking bread.[9] How much more so, chopping the wood to bake the bread.[10]
True, those with sophisticated skillsets are compelled to leave the mundane tasks to those lacking them. Yet this form of reasonable elitism balks at the Rebbe’s teaching here, in this context, of seeing all aspects of avoda as part of a whole package, the singular and indivisible will of G-d.[11]
Every place, every moment, every person is part of the Divine will. We are not meant to become anxious when we engage with our children, for example, no matter how mundane that may seem. Every effort is required on our part to not to despair or become cynical when life is a nuisance, painful or tragic, G-d forbid.
When we are crushed like kindling, we must burn even brighter with faith, thereby transforming it all into openly revealed good.
*
NOTES:
[1] Chagiga 13a
[2] Biurei HaZohar L’HaTzemach Tzedek, pg. 531
[3] Hemshech 5672 Vol. 1, Ch. 225 ff. Seifer HaSichos 5751, pg. 526-527
[4] Seifer Yetzira 1:8
[5] Seifer HaSichos 5751, pg. 555
[6] Likkutei Torah Shlach 40a
[7] Likkutei Torah Shlach 40a
[8] Likkutei Sichos Vol. 21, pg. 17
[9] See HaYom Yom of 25 Nissan
[10] Indeed, woodchoppers are at the bottom of the list, “from those who chop your wood to those who draw your water.” (Nitzavim 29:11)
[11] Likewise, in Guide for the Perplexed: The minds of these four, the Avos and Moshe, were exclusively filled with … the knowledge and love of G-d … even in their endeavors to increase their property, feed the flock, toiling in the field, or managing the household - simply because in all these things their goal and intent was to approach G-d.