The Era of the Yeshivas

After the cessation of nevuah, which influenced Am Yisrael to know the Laws of Hashem and His Torah, the Word of Hashem became rare. New springs of life opened up—we are referring to yeshivos, such as those in Pumbedisa and Sura [which were great yeshivos that stood for hundreds of years and had a mesorah from the past, going back hundreds of years]. These yeshivos raised the level of spirituality way up high across Bnei Yisrael. And what was it that raised people up? There was an internal connection between the people and the yeshivos, and they helped each other out. People recognized the yeshivos as the source of truth; without them, it is all nonsense and mistaken emptiness. They viewed the yeshivos as they would a clock [like London’s Big Ben] with an accurate internal mechanism and its hands correctly set, by which they could set their own watches. Whoever yearned for the derech Hashem knew to look there.

When the yeshivah students went out into the world, they made a tremendous kiddush Hashem wherever they went. They were living examples of the greatness of a life of shleimus, completeness. The world filled the yeshivos with the quantity of students, and the yeshivos filled the world with the quality of the talmidim, and so it continued generation after generation.

Nevertheless, to our great pain, the end of this very successful time arrived. A time of bitter rebellion fell upon the world, the cursed Haskalah that caused many casualties and defiled the heart of the nation. It went so far that they began to despise Hashem’s Word and those who represented it. The result was a split between the yeshivos and the world; a deep chasm opened between them. Since they saw that living a yeshivah life and living a worldly life were complete opposites—they do not fit with each other and compromise is impossible—talmidim began to leave the yeshivos and draw close to new leaders, who were seducing people away from the truth.

Under the influence of this new spirit, the ruach within the yeshivos began to grow lukewarm and then cool off [in its passion for Yiddishkeit]. The few who remained were jumping between two paths: this path pulling in one direction, that path going the other way. When they were left helpless from this internal battle, they tried to satisfy all opinions and make compromises between the two opposites. The good and the bad got mixed up and began being used together, as a mixture. A completely new breed was thus created, lacking clarity and dedication. It was similar to a clock with a damaged mechanism, which is sometimes fast and other times slow, and you have to manually push the hands around the clockface to display the correct time.

So was the spirit of the people who had been infected by the chaos of the times. They were internally confused about the way of life, and only by doing things lo lishmah could their spirit be moved at all. But the lo lishmah did not work constantly, either, and in some cases, the inner workings were completely destroyed. Nothing was left but a page showing a clockface with moveable hands—like those that are hung up in shul to show the weekly candle-lighting time. When candle-lighting time arrives, a person can make a mistake and think it is a real clock because, indeed, it shows exactly what time it is. Actually, this is a tremendous mistake; it is only by chance that the time is correct. The “clock’s” hands are not rotating around the clockface; it is really an empty thing with no inner mechanism at all.

[Here we are talking about people who were just externally Torah’dik, not internally.] Understandably, this new spirit was unable to create men with true opinions and straight hearts who were qualified to accept the influence of Torah and spread it further. [Of course, you cannot have a straight heart without the right kind of hashkafah, and you cannot have the right hashkafah without a straight heart. People who possess both these attributes are the ones capable of accepting the hashpaah—hearing well what the old generation has said, hearing precisely what they are saying and how they are saying it, without distorting it—and capable of spreading it further. Sometimes it may be necessary to make some changes in the translation of it, but, nevertheless, it is authentic.] Nevertheless, as long as learning lo lishmah [with a lack of complete commitment] had a place in this world, the “watch hands” kept being “pushed” and it somehow kept on going. [There were pesharadik places, and there were pesharos, and the world was very happy with that. There is an expression in Yiddish “Tzu G-tt und tzu leiten”—satisfying G-d and people—and people liked that. It was not extreme. But what that does is to not produce people who are strong.] But, unfortunately, even this situation—of doing things lo lishmah—did not last long. When World War I broke out, everything that existed because of the external pressures of the communities upon the yeshivos was destroyed. The average ben Torah was not taught how to withstand temptation and to stand his ground with strength. So, it dwindled and was destroyed. Very few remained who had not shaken off the yoke of Torah altogether. The matzav of Torah was smitten with a major blow and the yeshivos were in a state of confusion.

What should we do now? The evil wind of freedom and atheism was becoming stronger every day in the world and was beginning to harm those who had previously escaped, carrying them to a world that is the opposite of Torah life. We must find a way to save these innocent Jewish souls, that they should not be swept away on the tide of the times that is getting stronger every day, and not drown in the stormy waves.

There is one answer, and that is to raise up the level of the yeshivos and return them to their earlier state. It will not help at all if we return them to their earlier state of being pushed from outside while lacking an inner mechanism. The first reason this would not work is because this movement, dependent on outer forces, is not strong and enduring. Secondly, bitter experience has shown us that without inner motivation, it is possible to exist for only a short time, and in the end, destruction comes.

If we want to rebuild the yeshivos, we must set them up on true foundations and raise them to the levels of the yeshivos of earlier generations. In order to reach this goal, we must lay down this fundamental assumption: “We ask only one thing: to remain in yeshivah all our lives” (based on Tehillim 27:4). We cannot become a part of the world, because the world has distanced itself from us. We must stress that the world of yeshivos and the world around us are opposites that contradict each other. In order to escape the destructive influence of the world, those who have thus far escaped must strengthen their situation and distance themselves even further from the outside world. In a time of emergency [the Russian revolution was taking place at the time of the Alter’s writing], when all the train cars are transporting soldiers, we are compelled to buy first-class tickets and sit separately in the first-class compartment. [This is just a mashal. We’ll have to go first class; we can’t afford to do less than that because of the power the world has on us.]

In a time of emergency and danger like this, we must shrink back more into the four cubits of the world of Torah. Anybody who comes to attach himself to the heritage of Hashem will be in a unique world where he will be able to develop his talents and good traits without prevention or hindrance. We must create an internal machine that forces us to distance ourselves from the external world and choose a yeshivah where we can learn and practice. Only by people who are not jumping back and forth between different ways of life can a yeshivah be built.

When the yeshivah situation will be elevated, there is hope that the world will be rebuilt from them, and because of the influence of these elevated yeshivos, the pride of Torah will be elevated throughout the world. From earliest times, yeshivos had an impact on their surroundings and taught people the way of truth, because the yeshivos themselves proudly carried the flag of Torah and it is impossible that the light of truth will not win. Only when the yeshivos got weaker and their fire diminished, the world went wild with mistakes, because “those who destroy you and those who lay you waste shall go forth from you” (Yeshayahu 49:17), i.e., from the yeshivos themselves they went out [from the yeshivos that produced a lot of anti-Torah people].

In order to correct the present situation, we have to begin by building the yeshivos on a truthful and reliable foundation. From these yeshivos, the world will be rebuilt, little by little. We cannot begin with the world, as we are living in a world of a dor haflagah. This person pulls in one direction, the other in a different direction. [In the Alter’s day, there were all sorts of isms. The topic of discussion among Jews was the solution to the Jewish problems, until Hitler, yimach shemo, came along with the “final solution” to the Jewish problem.] We must leave the way of pesharos and recognize that there are only two choices before us: Either to leave the Torah [chas v’shalom] and choose the world, or to entrench ourselves more in our way and build for ourselves a special living space.

Adam had the same moment of choice: To live as simple intellect, ready to do what the Ribbono shel Olam wants without compromise, or to get involved with the Eitz Hadaas. Adam made a mistake and said he would succeed in this war and elevate himself further if he chose the latter path. Hashem warned him not to look for big deals, because he would not withstand the test. But the ancient snake seduced him, saying, “You will be like Elokim, and nothing will harm you.” What was the end? “And they knew they were naked.” Adam recognized his mistake after the action. This picture has to teach us that we have no room to be tempted and to err in thinking that connection to the world will not affect us adversely, or that such a connection is possible. Let us not forget the recent past of anyone who tried to connect these disparate elements [Torah and this world]: nothing remained of his Torah. Not only did he not benefit from connecting the two worlds, but it became poison to him. Who is it that seduced our nation to pour scorn on everything that is holy if not someone who learned and then left learning? As Chazal say, “A person who once learned and then turned aside from it is worse than anyone else” (Pesachim 49). And what was the reason he left? Because he wanted to go on two paths at the same time and connect things that cannot be connected.

Therefore, we should not fool ourselves by following the advice of the ancient serpent and choosing both the Torah and the world. They cannot co-exist. In the end, we will lose both.

A person should not consider it difficult to abstain from the world, to withdraw more and more into his living space, and to dedicate his heart and emotions to becoming complete. He should not worry that he will be unable to remain at that level. If we observe the ways of man and seek out where it is he makes mistakes—whether in the Torah world or the material one; and where is the place of his destruction—in spiritual or worldly matters, we will see, in those areas where intellect does not enter and matters were not given over to judgment, one might think that is where he will make his mistake. However, it is the exact opposite. In areas where you have no judgment or choice, it is easy to withstand any nisyonos. Errors occur in those areas where a person’s judgment is involved. As it says, “Where the righteous can walk and the wicked trip [areas of judgment]” (Hoshea 14:10). In Torah matters, you will see that a person fails in matters that require judgment (mishpatim), not in following a decree (chok). And although he will sometimes fail in chukim, it is only in the mishpatim of those chukim, because there is no chok that does not have an area requiring judgment.

For example: When it comes to the parah adumah, a person would never make a mistake in the actual chok—that is, by not making a parah adumah altogether—but in the mishpatim of it, such as that there must not be a yoke placed on the parah, and there must not be two black hairs found on it. It is the same thing with an esrog. [It is not a question whether he should take it or not; rather] the weakness comes in areas of judgment—for instance, maybe it’s dried out [Is it too dried out to be used?], or something similar. It is the same thing with tefillin: Are they square? A person is financially biased [to not buy a new pair of tefillin, and this might lead to an error in judgment]. So has it been throughout history: If someone fell from his level, it is because he made a mistake only in judgment. Chazal said (Sanhedrin 21) about Shlomo HaMelech, a”h, the wisest of all men, that had the Torah only stated that a king may not have many wives, and not revealed the rationale for the mitzvah (Devarim 17:17), there would not have been room for error and he would not have sinned. However, the Torah gave a reason and said that a king should not have many wives because they will turn aside his heart from the Ribbono shel Olam. Shlomo said, “I will have many and my heart will not turn aside.” That was his mistake. Even though when he was young, he had not turned aside, he should have looked ahead and been concerned for when he gets older: Maybe then he will turn aside? However, that is not something your mind will tell you, that you might make a mistake in the future. Had he simply followed the command, he would not have come to this. It is the same with outside books, about which Chazal said, “Whoever reads outside books loses his portion in Olam HaBa” (ibid. 90). Everyone knows this is true, but what is the mistake? It is in details. “His staff (maklo) tells him” (Hoshea 4:12)—“Hameikil yaged lo: the urge to be meikil (lenient) tells him” (Pesachim 52). This takes a person out of the rule, because [like with Shlomo HaMelech] he is sure that he will not be affected.

We see further that the lowest of the low know about the well-known middos. When he wants to abuse someone, he calls him robber, thief, chaser of honor [which are all disparagements according to the Torah]. And when he wants to praise someone, he uses complimentary words from the Torah, such as humble, beneficent, believer, G-d-fearing. About these traits, Chazal said, “Most people steal and everyone speaks lashon hara” (Bava Basra 165). That which requires more judgment, that is where mistakes are made.

If we look deeply into the matter, we will find why mistakes are made in things that are open to a person’s judgment. A person’s mind is very small, and when he takes a matter under judgment, shortcomings and mistakes are the result. If a person’s mind were clear, without self-interest, he could make an accurate, reliable judgment. However, a person’s mind is blurry and is mixed together with his desires. [As mentioned above,] whatever is lenient speaks to him. The way he wants to go, that’s the way it seems to him; the scales he uses are crooked. We see that human intelligence is far from the Torah’s intelligence, from one extreme to the other.

A person worries about giving himself over to the Torah and allowing the Torah to lead him in all his ways. He feels that he will always be giving and giving—financially, personally—and getting nothing back from the Torah. But the Torah already revealed to us that the exact opposite is the case: The person who receives is really giving, and the giver is really receiving. We see this in many areas. A person is afraid to relinquish his honor. He will not forgive his honor, even for a desecration of Hashem. Why is that? Because that would require him to give up a little bit of honor [and he can’t]. The Torah says the opposite: “Whoever runs away from honor, honor will follow him” (Eruvin 13). When he runs away, he will get it. So also, “Whoever keeps the commandment shall know no evil thing” (Koheles 8:5). According to the intellect of the Torah, if a person safeguards and observes the Torah, not only will he not lose out, but, in fact, he will gain. The imagination of a person is always fearful that he will lose out.

And so it is with the issue of bitachon; it seems that the person is giving himself over to the decree of Hashem, but the truth is that he gets everything. As the pasuk says, “Blessed is the man who trusts Hashem, and Hashem is his source of confidence” (Yirmiyahu 17:7). This blessing means that his normal, materialistic needs will be met. Besides that, it is fortunate that he is the kind of person who places his trust in the Ribbono shel Olam; the caliber of his soul is without measure. Besides the material success he is promised, he is also on a very high level. The power of a strong person who can overpower anyone in the world is greater than the gain he would get from a nation hiring him to wage war for them. The payment is incidental—it is proof of his merit— but his merit remains an essential part of him. As Chazal say, “One hour of repentance and good deeds in This World is better than all of the Next World” (Avos 4:22). [How is that so? How can one hour here be nicer, better, more important? Because he is making a choice here. In the one hour he is choosing, he is “becoming.” The rest is reward, which is never as important as the act for which the reward is given. That act is greatness.] The Next World is just reward, but teshuvah and good deeds are the actual merit.

Moshe Rabbeinu found it difficult to lead the people, and he asked for helpers. He thought the difference between doing things himself and having helpers was that without helpers, it would drain too much energy from him, but if he were to have helpers, he would not lose anything. [Therefore, the Ribbono shel Olam gave him the Sanhedrin.] Hakadosh Baruch Hu said: “I will shine from the ruach that is upon you, on them (Bamidbar 11:17).” And then, Moshe will lose some of the shine and ruach that he had before. Chazal say, “What happened to Moshe Rabbeinu was that he was like a candle from which many other candles are lit, and the candle’s brightness is not diminished.” But the Alter says: There is a weakening of the mitzvah. With Chanukah candles, for example, if you light one candle from another, the first one is not affected, but at the time you light it, it is weakened.

The same thing applies to charity. “Give maaser, so you will become wealthy” (Taanis 9). A person who gives maaser will receive [and become wealthy], and the taker gives. The human mind sees the opposite—he sees the giving, but does not understand that the giving is the receiving. Why not? Because the person never attempted to live according to the Torah’s choice, without needing to know in advance how it is going to work out [he never said naaseh v’nishma]; to go simply after the will of the Ribbono shel Olam, without sophistry on his part. He is like the blacksmith, who thought that all his fortune came about because he did not become a goldsmith. After all, he has spent years as a blacksmith, and nobody ever ordered a single gold ring from him! Everyone knows he is a fool, because that is the way things work. Because he is a blacksmith, nobody goes to him to fix rings. Had he tried to be a goldsmith, he would have seen that life as a goldsmith is a much happier one than his life.

And so it is really with the person who has never transcended his own judgment that is tied to his nature and traits, and never cast his hopes upon the Torah. He never said “Naaseh v’nishma” to the Torah—[I am ready to do it, to give up my own judgment for the Torah’s; he is always judging whether the Torah is right or wrong]—to use his own judgment only for keeping the Torah—how, what, and when to do. [There is no question that there is a commitment to do it.] Because of this, he sees it as being full of contradictions and opposites. Had he given himself over completely to the Torah, he would have seen that “its ways are pleasant” (Mishlei 3:17) and the Torah does not take anything from a person; on the contrary, it gives life. Since he has never tried to give himself to the Torah completely, he has a different way of thinking. He imagines himself as only giving and never getting back. This thinking, which is based on his nature and middos which only want to receive and not give, does not recognize the Torah. He errs in all areas that require judgment, because he comes to judge them with his own understanding. He wants to make it easier for himself, for he regards the Torah as one who steals from him. [He’s stealing away his fun, his olam hazeh.]

What we see is that Chazal forbade the use of a saw-edged aravah, because “the Torah’s ways are pleasant” (Succah 32). If no other aravah is available, then the whole mitzvah is nullified because you cannot take a lulav without the other three species. Yet, Chazal saw it better to nullify a positive mitzvah than to say a saw-edged aravah is kosher. This what the pasuk says: “Hashem says to the wicked, ‘Why are you talking in my learning?’” (Tehillim 50:16) because the rasha is not given over and dedicated to the Torah. [For him, it is only an intellectual exercise.] What is the value of his knowing the chukim, statutes, when he is going to stumble on the mishpatim? When he weighs in with his wrong-headed thinking and destroys and distorts the mishpatim, he will also ruin the chukim, because there is no chok without mishpatim, which require judgment.

A person should not build anything on his judgment. The question asked earlier— whether a person can remain on such a high level—does not truly exist, because a question like that comes from his judgment, which comes from his nature and middos [that do not want to remain at such a high level. He does not want to be on such a level so he convinces himself that he will crack up, or that Yiddishkeit is not good, or that if he is too machmir, it will damage his mental health. This is not true. He will not crack up. But he did not want to stay on such a level so he convinced himself.] It comes from not understanding the essence of the Torah. The Torah is not asking him to sacrifice himself to the Ribbono shel Olam. On the contrary, the Torah does not want him to disappear from the world. The entire Torah is for his welfare. If a person does not give himself over exclusively to Torah and the yeshivah, and holds on to using his judgment, in the end, he will destroy himself and his learning, and will stumble over the laws (mishpatim) where there are judgments, and the chukim will also be nullified.

This is what the seeker should ask: since giving is receiving, and taking is giving, it follows that if he is giving in order to receive, he will not receive anything because he is not giving anything. Since he is not truly giving, he will not receive.

Even if a person gives himself over not because he wants to receive back, since he knows for sure that you gain by giving, this knowledge [that giving is receiving] turns the giving into receiving. It wipes out the reality of giving without expectation of receiving, because he knows he is going to get back. That makes it equal to giving in order to receive. And if you give in order to receive, it is as if you are not giving at all. If you do not give, then dedication to Torah is missing.

How could a person be a true mitzvah observer, who trusts in Hashem, and runs from honor? If somebody keeps the mitzvah in order “not to know a bad thing,” this is not called one who observes the mitzvah carefully, and he will be missing in that “he did not know evil” (Koheles 8:5). And it will be as is written in Iyov (4:6), “Your yiras Shamayim is foolish.” If he did achieve his desire, as Chazal say, “Even the wicked who trusts in Hashem has chesed from the Ribbono shel Olam.” Even if a person does achieve, he does do a certain amount of lishmah, but does not come to the full realization of doing it right, because he knows that at the end, the tachlis of what he is going to do will bring him a tovah, how can he come to do a mitzvah not to receive a reward? His mind does not allow him to do that; how can a person do mitzvos with pure intentions not to receive anything even though he knows there is a reward?

The same thing applies to running away from honor, as the Torah warned that if he runs away and looks over his shoulder to see if the honor is chasing him, then he is not running away at all. Even if he does not turn back to see if the honor is chasing him, the very knowledge that if he does not turn his head, then the honor will chase him, is like turning his head. Even if he denies himself honor, he knows it will come to him. How can he avoid that?

And the same thing with repentance. The Rambam wrote (Hilchos Teshuvah 82,2), “When doing teshuvah, a person has to make a very strong commitment that he will not return to foolishness.” How can such a commitment take place? The person made a commitment the previous Yom Kippur to return to Hashem with a full heart, and he did not stick to it. This knowledge [about the previous year’s failure] causes him to not believe that he will fulfill his agreement this time. It damages his haskamah of now. What is the solution so that knowledge of the past does not affect the present commitment?

The Gra wrote that inner fear and love that are deep in a person’s heart are a gift from Heaven (commentary on Mishlei, 19:14). A person has to give himself over to Torah without being overly “smart” and to keep the Torah as far as he is able to. As for the remainder, which is beyond his ability [to block out his mind from the reward] the Ribbono shel Olam will help him—but this siyatta d’Shmaya will only come after a person has done all he can do on his part.

This answers all the above questions [about reward, bitachon, teshuvah]. A person who wants with a full heart and simplicity to keep the mitzvos and to escape from honor, to do teshuvah and return to the Ribbono shel Olam, will have help from Heaven. What he gives away is given [because he has siyatta diShmaya], and what he receives is received [he is not going to lose what he received], and his agreements are strong, because he did as much as he could. It is not in his hands to forget all the damaging information on all these issues. However, if a person does not give himself over to mitzvos, when he does give, it is not giving and what he receives is not receiving, and his agreement is unstable.

As the Torah writes: “Make for me a sanctuary, and I will dwell among them” (Shemos 25:8). Chazal explain it to mean that Hashem will live in the hearts of each and every person. Therefore, if a person creates a heart that is ready to achieve whatever Hashem has commanded him, up to the point of what he cannot achieve, Hashem will be there for him.

The Torah thus writes: “Take for me a terumah” (Shemos 25:2) and not give one, because giving is receiving. When is giving considered receiving? Only when it is done with a full voluntariness of the heart. Therefore, when his heart volunteers and all his energies are there to fulfill what Hashem has commanded, that is the only time he is really giving and really receiving.

Therefore, if we want to achieve a very high level, and if a life of Torah and completeness is precious to us, we don’t have to be concerned that maybe we won’t succeed or achieve anything. We just have to try. Nothing should be missing on our part, and we should be giving it our all, voluntarily, with a pure heart, pure devotion, and unwavering dedication. Then we will receive the Ribbono shel Olam’s help in all that we do and what we give becomes giving, and when we take it is really taking. The pasuk will be fulfilled in us: “Make me a sanctuary, and Hashem will dwell among us.”