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I think for many of us As we find ourselves in this post Yom Kippur There's a certain feeling that while we've gone through Yom Ha'Noaraim and we've been cleansed of our sins There's a certain how shall we say Pchalishos. Certain weakness that we live with, that we know. L'maisa, we're still the same people. We still have many of the same feelings, many of the same attitudes towards our nefesh abahamis, towards the part of ourselves that we're proud of. And we ask ourselves, is it real? Did we really Did we really do tshuva? After all, Chazal say that we have to keep busy in the three days between Sukkot and Yom Kippur in order that we shouldn't start doing aveiros right away. What is the approach of a bintaira Somebody who's really trying to come close to a kabbalas baruchu? How is he feeling? The pasuk says, 'Let the generations know that I caused Klal Yisrael to dwell in Sukkos.'
What are these sukos? Everyone knows that Rashi says these are talking about the ananei akvod of when Klal Yisrael left Mitzrayim that we were enveloped in these beautiful ananei akvod. In this famous kash of the Tor Really representative of the ananei akvod Then it really ought to have been in Nissan when Klal Yisrael was leaving Mitzrayim, and we should not be celebrating sukkos right now. And the Tor gives an answer, a very beautiful answer. That. The sukkah has to be lishma. So as we head into the summer and the weather is nice and the weather is good, mistakenly think that we're going into the sukkahs, we're leaving our homes because it's nice weather. Whereas now, entering into the winter and Tishrei It's not so nice. It even rained a bit over sukkahs here in Israel. That's the tourist heritage. We do it in Tishrei to show that we're doing it lishma.
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The Chedusha Harim has a very beautiful answer that I'd like to share with you today. Chedusha Harim says that you have to look at the words of the pasuk. What's this? What's the kavana behind? What's the concept that knowledge is one of the requirements of sukkahs? We know the Gemara in Sota Gimel Mem Aleph says that a person is only chote because of ruach stus, a temporary insanity. The infinite Rebbeinu Shlom told you what his desires are, and you decided to go against them. Obviously, this is a temporary insanity. No normal person would ever do a chait. And so, the whole year long, we go, we live our lives with this ruach stus Very, very far from the bechina of das. And in that matzev, and the matzev, even in Nissan, which is a very big time of kedusha of leaving meitzarim in our life. A person lives with that ruach shlos. Only after yom kippur After a person has gone through the tshuva process, is it shayech to talk about a life of lemanyedu that we're living a life of yedia, of real knowledge, of authenticity, of awareness of the rabbanu shel olam in our lives.
So the chadush arim says it specifically now, and this man is when we can fulfill lemanyedu doresechem shabesukos ha'shafti es bnei yisrael. To give to the next generation requires a das. It requires an awareness. Gemara in brachos says, "bemakom shabbali tshuvim eimdim ein tzadikim gemurim eimdim." That we know about Tshuva is living on a plane that's so incredibly high. It's higher than even the tzadikim are able to reach And that's why the ushpizin come to us. They come to visit us. Why do the Yeshpizim come to visit us? Because they're literally there are Orchem, which is a very big thing to say, and obviously we don't mean to be mezazel and sadikim in any way. Chas v'shalom, we have no Hasaga who Avram, Mitzra, and Yaakov were. But just to understand that b'makom shibali tshuva meimtem ein sadikim gumerim meimtem means we have left this world, for the b'al tshuva in this world there is no place left to dwell And after we've gone through Rosh Hashanah and aseret yemei tshuva and Yom Kippur, in a certain way, we're left without a home.
And comes along the Rebbeinu Shalom, who's called Hamakom, as in Hamakom Yenachem Eschem. The Rebbeinu Shalom we know is the place. And he says to us the B'alei Teshuva. He says, 'The place for you is by me. You are no longer of this world.' Hakadosh Baruch Hu is the place, and he says, 'Now your place is beyond the capabilities, beyond the capacity of this world.' And if that's the case. Then there's a very profound question I think we can ask, and the question is as follows: If we're talking about the sukkah as this very elevated place, as a place of kedusha, b'makom shabali, tshuvim, oymdim, ein tzadikim, gemurim, we're living with the concept of hamakom. So then, why is it that for so many years, over three thousand years already The things that we do in the sukkah are basically characterized by our mundane activities.
We relax, we eat, we drink, we sleep in the sukkah. Of course, we learn in the sukkah. Of course, we take dal and minhah in the sukkah. But it's a very mundane place. One would expect that if we're living on such an elevated plane, that there would only be tefillah and there would only be the most halakhic things possible in the sukkah. And yet, we find that even the mundane activities take place in the sukkah. And of course, when I say mundane activities, I don't mean anything inappropriate. Of course, the sukkah is a very appropriate place where a person should always be knowing with modesty. But still the concept needs to be clarified. We know that a sukkah requires two and a half walls, even though a person ideally should have four walls in the sukkah. But at two and a half walls, he's yotzei the mitzvah. What is the significance of this concept called two and a half wall?
The Alter Rebbe points out that in Shir Ashirim The pasuk says, "Smilay tachas l'roshi v'yamini tchabkeni." His left arm lays under my head. And the right arm embraces me. And we know that this concept of left and right—left being gevura, right being chesed, left being strict justice, and the right being loving kindness—that the Rebbe says is referring really to two distinct periods in the calendrical year. There's Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. This is a zman of the left of gevura. Where we're introspecting, and there's integrity and discipline, and we ask ourselves, 'Is this the way the Rebbeinu Shlomo wants us to live?' And the Rebbeinu Shlomo is evaluating the relationship. And then there's Sukkot, and Sukkot is Hakadosh Baruch Hu's right arm, the bchinah of the Yemini to Chabkini And this is obviously the simcha of the Yontif that we are living in the loving embrace of Hakadosh Baruch Hu.
And the Arizal explains that there's three parts to a person's arm. The first part is from the shoulder to the elbow. The second part is from the elbow to the wrist, and the third part is from the wrist to the fingers. And when a person gives another an embrace, when a parent gives a child an embrace, first he wraps his arm around the child from the shoulder until the elbow goes around the child's waist, and from the elbow until the wrist goes around the child's back. And finally, the hand that caresses the child's face and pulls the child in very, very closely. And the same is true of the sukkah. The arizal says the sukkah is an embrace. The sukkah is the iminut chabkini. It's the hug from the reben shalom. The first two walls, the complete walls, are from the shoulder to the elbow, and then from the elbow to the wrist. Then finally, the third wall, which is just the small part from the wrist to your fingers. Is that the loving caress where you hold the child's face close to you?
We know in Kabbalah there's four expressions of love, and each expression is very, very deep in its own way. The first expression of love is with words. You tell a person how much you care about them. You tell a person in a very sincere way, "I love you." These are some of the most powerful words that you can ever say to somebody. The second is a kiss. A kiss is a very beautiful expression of life. Hakadosh Baruch Hu blew life into us. There's a concept of a kiss of sharing your life with another. There's a concept of looking at somebody; the gaze from one person to another is very, very powerful. In fact, the gaze is so powerful that it can be very awkward when a person is looking at you in such an intense way. One of the most beautiful stories that I think I've ever heard was a certain Rosh Yeshiva who went to visit Riv Nassin Svi Finkel's Echetzadik Levracha to be Shol Eitzah to ask him a question.
And when he got there, he had to sit in line and he was waiting until it was time for Riv Nassin Svi to give Shir, and he was the last person in line. And so they told him, "If you'll just wait a little bit longer, wait another two hours after Riv Nassin Svi comes back from giving Shir, so you'll be the first person on line." And Tzesh Shiva made a Cheshbon, a very important Cheshbon, that it was worth it for him to stay. And after a couple of hours, Rav Nasan Svi walked back into the house. Right near the yeshiva And his wife came to greet him. And the way this rashiyeva tells the story, I had the schuz of hearing it from him personally. He said they hadn't seen each other for two and a half hours. But the look between Rav Nasan Svi and his wife He said it looked like they hadn't seen each other for fifty years.
He said he walked out of that room and told his talmidim, 'I just saw the shchina' Because the intensity of the gaze that they shared was so beautiful And it was so illuminating. It's a very beautiful expression of love, just to look at somebody. That's why the rabbinical looks at us, and that's a very beautiful thing. It's a way of saying you're chashuv, you're important, you take up space in my life. So those are the first three types of love. There's telling someone I love you, giving them a very sweet kiss, and then of course finally looking at each other. But there is a fourth expression of love. And in a certain way, this fourth expression of love is more powerful than all of them, and that's the expression of a hug. If you go to a child And you talk to a child, of course a child loves to be spoken to.
There's something very beautiful about sitting and having a conversation with the child. I'm very blessed. One of the things that I try to do, though I don't do it enough, is to take my children on dates. I take my little girls on dates, and we go for a walk, or we'll go to ice cream, or to the bakery, or whatever it is. But just to talk to them, just to listen to them, even really, is more than talking to them. But to have a conversation, having a conversation with somebody, is an incredibly beautiful thing, and children certainly enjoy that. And a kiss, a very tender display of affection with a child, is also a very beautiful thing. Very often the child will wipe off the kiss, but we all know that the child enjoys the kiss. Certainly, to be looked at, the child enjoys that somebody is paying attention to him. There's a very well-known story that I've shared with you many times before.
The story of the child that's tugging on his mother's apron as she's washing the dishes. And the child says, "Mummy, pay attention to me. I want to tell you something." "And the mother turns to him and says, 'I'm paying attention. Please go ahead and talk.' And she continues to wash the dishes." And the child persists, pulling at the mother's apron and saying, "Mommy, please pay attention to me." The mother, a little exasperated, turns to the child and says, "I'm paying attention to you." She continues to do the dishes. Finally, the child pulls on the mother's apron one last time and says, "Mommy Please pay attention to me with your eyes. Please pay attention to me with your eyes. A child wants to be looked at, and all of those things are very, very beautiful. But there's something that a child loves more than all of those things, and that's a hug. A child sometimes needs a hug.
They don't need you to solve their problems. They don't need you to talk to them. They don't need you to look at them. They just want a hug. What is the power of a hug? Why is a hug described as delicious? A person could have a big fat hug. A hug is something we give words to. We give language to it because it's such a powerful thing. What's the embrace of a hug? So I saw from Rabbi Y Jacobson. He says something incredible. The power of a hug is twofold. Number one, the power of a hug is that you're trapped, whereas you could look away from somebody's gaze, or pull back from their kiss, or walk away from their words of affection. When a person finds themselves in a bear hug They're trapped. There's a certain sense of, "I'm here and I have nowhere else to go. I can't go anywhere else."
That's one. And two is what is the direction of a hug Whereas the target of a kiss, or somebody gazing upon you, or somebody telling you nice things is to your face. The target of the hug is primarily your back. As we explained from the Arizal before. You're pulling the person's back close to you. What is the significance of these two things? And there's two types of love. The first type of love is called reciprocal love. I love you because of what you do for me. I love you because you enhance my life. I love being with you. I love how I feel when I'm with you. This is reciprocal love. I love you because of what you do for me. And there's something very beautiful about that. It's it's it's not. I'm not saying that it's a bad thing. It's it's a very beautiful thing.
That's called the love of the face. The love of the faces. I look at you. You look back at me. I talk to you. You talk back to me. I share my kiss with you. You share your kiss with me. There's a very big reciprocity in the relationship. The challenge of reciprocal love is the moment you stop doing something for me. Then there's a feeling of why am I with you? At some point, the relationship becomes more of a hassle. Maybe it's not worth it anymore. Rachmanoletzlon, we know so many couples today are going through so many trials and tribulations in their marriage. The divorce rate is so out of control. Marriages are built on the concept of reciprocal love, and there's something very beautiful about that because reciprocal love breeds passion. It's because I don't need to love you and I choose to love you, because of who you are and how you make me feel. That there can be a tremendous excitement, an excitement that would never exist between a father and his son or a mother and her daughter.
Because when I choose to love you, that's a very exciting proposition. On the other hand, there's also a tremendous vulnerability to such a position because what happens when the relationship is not as exciting as it once was. And Rachmanolat Salam—that's what so many people are going through today. When all of the stuff comes out, and all of the hurt, and all of the pain, after so many years of being together, the relationship can become dry. As I once heard somebody say, "Relationships that start in a bang often end in a bang." So that's one type of relationship. It's reciprocal. It's to the face. There's another type of relationship, and this is called unconditional love. Unconditional love is absolute. It means I don't love you because of me. I love you just for who you are. I'm not necessarily even getting anything out of this relationship. I simply love you. There's something familiar about you. There's a reunification of our soul. When the child is born, the parent loves the child for no reason. There's nothing that the parent can do to stop the child from doing it. There's nothing the parent can explain why they love this child.
I remember when my daughter was born, just a couple of months ago. I remember when she was born, sitting there over that bassinet, looking at this tiny little mush of a person, and just crying, tears of joy. And I remember saying the following words to her. I remember saying,"It's so nice to finally meet you. I've been waiting to meet you." And it's a beautiful thing that a parent shares with a child. Today, all the you know all the people they come up with all these different scientific terminologies of why you love your children. It's survival of the species. I don't know. I can't tell you that in that moment I was thinking to myself, even unconsciously thinking to myself, I love you because of survival of the species. I love you because I love you. That's the love of a parent to a child. It's an unconditional love.
And that's why, when a child walks into the house and the child is crying, because somebody hurt them or somebody made fun of them or they fell and tripped or whatever happened, the child doesn't need you to solve their problems. The child just needs a hug. The child needs to be told you will always have a place here in this home. That's what the child needs to know. Parents so often the child comes home and says nobody wants to play with me in recess. The parent says, 'What are people playing? They're in recess.' The child says, 'They're playing football.' The parent says, 'Okay, I'm going to go buy you a football.' The child didn't need a football. The child needed a hug from his mother, from his father, just to tell him that everything is okay and you have a place. That's what we all want. We all feel disconnected. We're all looking for a place and we feel very disconnected.
A parent who solves their child's problem instead of giving their child a hug has lost the most beautiful opportunity to tell the child that you belong, that you're choshev, that you're meaningful. And that's the hug. The hug pulls you in from the back. It's not anything to do with your face. It's not because of what you do for me. I love you. I love all of you. I love every single part of you. And you're trapped here. No matter what you do, no matter how far you run away, no matter what happens, you are never ever kicked out of this place. This place is yours. I very recently had the opportunity to be in San Diego. And I was talking to Svardi Rav over there. And one of the people on the Shabbaton had expressed that his parents had thrown him out of the house. And the Svardy Rov looks at me and he asked, 'Is this what happens in Ashkenazi homes? Do parents throw children out of the house?'
So I said, "Yes, sometimes it does happen" And he could not believe it. He couldn't believe it, and he said, 'In the Svardy culture, nothing like that would ever happen.' He was dumbfounded. He said, 'How could a parent throw a child out of the home? No matter what's going on.' Now I'm not trying to. I just want to be very clear with you guys. I'm not trying in any way to take a stand on this issue. These are very complex issues. I know that my Rebbe, Rebbe Yaakov Bender Shlitah, took a very strong stance that you never throw a child out of the home, no matter what. I'm not looking to stick my head between these two mountains. All I am looking to say is that a child needs to know that he is safe at home.
That he's safe at home. Rebbe Matzio Solomon has a beautiful essay. I recommend that all of you read it. It's in a book called "With Hearts Full of Love," and it's a beautiful essay on parenting. And he talks about the fact that there's so much homework today, and that the first thing a child walks into the house, the first thing a mother says to him is, "How was your day? How much homework do you have?" We've turned the home from a place where a child feels safe and that unconditional love of no matter what, this is where I belong, to an extension of the school where, frankly, many children feel like they don't belong, and they feel very disconnected and they don't know what's going on. And we've turned the home. Nevech into an extension of the school, which is a ridiculous thing to do.
A child needs to feel when he walks in the door, he says, "I can drop my bag, and I know that this is a place where I feel comfortable, no matter what happens." And I have to tell you, I've been talking to guys for a very long time now. I've had the privilege of polishing diamonds in a number of yeshivas and a number of seminaries, and I have to tell you that the thing that I hear most is I just don't feel like I'm accepted. I just don't feel like I can be who I really am. Children today don't feel like they have a place. The truth of the matter is that if we're being very honest with ourselves, many of us feel the same way about our relationship with the Rebbeinu Shlom. Our relationship with our Kaddish Baruch Hu exists also on these two levels. During the year, there's a concept of reciprocal love that we feel connected to the Rebbeinu Shlom because of what we do Because when we engage our nefesh abayamis and we're able to win a little bit more every single day, and we're able to stay away from certain temptations, and we're able to engage in certain very beautiful mitzvot, so we feel like we're getting a kiss from the Rebbeinu Sholom, and at times it can be very passionate.
That's our relationship with our Kol D'Kohu all year round. It's a give and take relationship, and there's a lot of passion that flows from there. But I think that when it comes to Sukkot, we're engaging in a very different type of relationship, and I think in order to understand that, we need to really go back to Pesach, which is where we were born as a nation. On Pesach, the Rebbe Nachshon came to us, and he took us out of Mitzrayim. Why? Because of a covenant that he had made with Avram Avinu many, many years before, and we have emuna in Hakadosh Baruch Hu that he will follow through on his word, and he followed through on his word, and he took us out of Mitzrayim not because we were deserving. Which is a very vulnerable place to be, because we ask ourselves why the Rebbeinu Shalom wants to be with us. Ultimately, it culminated in Yom Chasunaso on Shavuos by Matan Torah, where Hakadosh Baruch Hu gave us His greatest gift. And of course, we know that when you give somebody a gift that's very important to you, what you are really communicating to them is that you are at least as important as this gift is to me.
And so, when Hakadosh Baruch Hu gave us His Torah What he was really telling Klal Yisrael is: You are so important to me. And if we look at the calendar, the next thing that comes around is really the destruction of the mikdash on Tishavov And that duality that we feel on Tishavov, which is the vulnerability of the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash, that our sins The Gilai Arayas, the Shvichas Dummim, the Avei Dazaru, the Sinas Chinam, Shelo Bercha Batarat Chila, our disconnect from the Rebbeinu Shlom can result in the destruction of our home. In the destruction of our relationship, and that's what the world says today. The world says the Christians say the Jews were once chosen. It's true, they were once chosen, but the Rebbeinu Shlom has since left, and they say look at history, the Rebbeinu Shlom has left, and the Muslims say the same thing. You were once chosen, but now you're not chosen anymore.
And so there's a vulnerability that the Jew lives with. That maybe we're not chosen anymore. Maybe we are disconnected. Maybe the Rebbeinu Shlom really doesn't want me Because look at all the things that I really am. And at the same time on Tishbev, we know that we get up in the afternoon when really the destruction was getting even worse, because there's still hope. There's hope for rebuilding. We know that Rabbi Nachshon didn't really leave. He left, but he didn't really leave. The Shechinah is begalusa But of course the Rabbi Nachshon is here and he's waiting for us to return. It's not the time now to get into Tishbev. Ain kan makom laharich, but there's a very beautiful Torah on Tishbev to understand that the Rabbi Nachshon really did not leave. And then we go to Tuba'av. Which is the beginning of the expression of that hope in a real way, where we begin our shaduchim, and all the girls dress up in white, which is really representative of the bride of Klal Yisrael, as we mentioned before from Shir Ashirim, that pasuk of Smilai Tachas L'raishivim, meaning to chabkani, is really speaking from the perspective of the bride, which we know is Klal Yisrael, and we dress up in white, and we're willing to engage in shaduchim again. We're willing to go back into the relationship with the Ravonishlam, and then we come to Elul.
And in Elul, it's the expression of Anila Daidiv Le Daidili, and we rediscover, we recharge the love that we have inside of us for the Rebbeinu Shalom And that's step one of any relationship: closeness. It's discovering that you're very, very important, and you're somebody that I really want to be with. And that brought us to Rosh Hashanah. And Rosh Hashanah is step two of the relationship, which is distance. Every relationship really requires closeness, but then distance. Because as long as we're close, I'm still me and you're still you. But what happens is when there's distance in a relationship, it's poel a bittel. There's a feeling of humility as you look at the person that you love and you look up to them and you say, "Wow" "You're an incredible person." And the feeling in me is, "I'm so blessed. I'm so lucky to be with you." And that's a humbling feeling.
People today confuse humility. They think humility means feeling low. Humility means that I see you from a distance, and I create a space inside of myself for you to exist. In other words, it's the beginning of pulling back. I'm not me anymore. I'm me with a space for you. And that's what happened on Rosh Hashanah. On Rosh Hashanah, we're Mamlach Hakadosh Baruch Hu. We say to Hakadosh Baruch Hu, "You're the Melech. You are so distant from us, and we are your humble servants." And what that does is it creates a space inside of ourselves for the Rebbeinu Shalom to exist. Of course, stage three is intimacy. And that's why we have Aseres Yomet Shuvah. Again, ain kan macham leharich, but we know that really Rosh Hashanah is not really Aseres Yomet Shuvah. It's the kickoff of Aseres Yomet Shuvah, which culminates in Yom Kippur, which is also not really Aseres Yomet Shuvah. The Aseres Yomet Shuvah are really Bein Rosh Hashanah liyomakipurim, as the Gemara says, Elo asar yomim. Bein Rosh Hashanah liyomakipurim. So the next stage, which is the beginning of intimacy, is tshuva.
And I think we can suggest that really tshuva means as follows: There's an inherent shame that all of us live with. And the shame is that if you really knew who I am, you would never want to connect with me. I'm unlovable. And so what we do is we hide who we really are And we put on a mask of somebody that we're not In order so that another person should love us. Because inherently, I'm unlovable. The problem with such an approach is that, at the end of the day, you're not in an intimate relationship. Because you are not there, and frankly, neither is she. She's also putting on a mask usually. So you love a version of yourself; she loves a version of you. But neither of those things are who you actually are. So the entire relationship is built on shakar. And we don't want that to be our relationship with Hakadosh Baruch Hu. So we come to Hakadosh Baruch Hu in a very honest way.
With a lot of integrity, with a lot of authenticity And frankly, with a lot of courage. And we say, "This is what I've brought into the relationship. This is who I authentically am." And look what I've done to the relationship. That's really what tshuva is about. Tshuva is about expressing to Hakadosh Baruch Hu. It's not that these things were bad for me. I did the chid because I enjoy doing the chid. But I regret the fact that I have brought these things into the relationship. It takes a tremendous amount of courage to say I'm sorry, a tremendous amount of courage, and ultimately it culminates on Yom Kippur when the Rebbeinu Shlom says, 'Itzuma shal yom es mechaper.' I give you kapara, I wipe you clean, like a child is not embarrassed to be wiped clean by his father or his mother. And we're wiped clean by the Rebbeinu Shlom, and the Rebbeinu Shlom forgives us.
The only problem is, as I started in the beginning of this year, the only problem is that now here we are And we're after Yom Kippur, and we still feel like we're the same avaryanim that we were just a couple of weeks ago. We're the same over aviru. We're the same people with the same tayvos, with the same desires, with the same images, with the same distortions. And we look at the Rebbeinu Shlom after Yom Kippur and we say "How could you possibly love me?" Look at all of my imperfections. I'm still the same Avaryon that I was just a couple of minutes ago. You have to, Mamash, keep me busy over these three days in order that I won't continue to do these things. And that's why, in the space of this incredible vulnerability The Rebbeinu Shlom comes and he gives us a hug And this is the essence of Sukkot.
The Rebbeinu Shlom says, 'Bring all of yourself into the sukkah, into my hug, into my loving embrace. All of your mundane activities: your eating, your drinking, your relaxing, your hanging out, your talking, everything. Your sleeping, all of the human activities, all of the things that you think make you imperfect, all of the ma'enosh kitzkerenu, all of the feeling that we're not worthy. Bring it all into the sukkah.' Because the walls of the sukkah tell us, "I love you." It's the arm being wrapped around our waist, being wrapped around our back, holding our face. Close to Hakadosh Baruch Hu's chest, where he's whispering in our ear, without saying it, the loving embrace says it. He's whispering in our ear, and he's saying, 'I love you because of you.' It's not despite your imperfections. It's not because of your imperfections. I very simply love you. I love you for who you are.
You know It's a mitzvah min hamuvchar. The Alter Rebbe writes in Shulchan Aruch Harav, and many other places also said as well. That it's a mitzvah min hamuvchar to bring the sukkah, to bring the lulav, to bring the dalimim into the sukkah. What's the idea of mitzvah min hamuvchar? The idea is as follows. Everyone knows that the dalimim represent many different things. Some say that it represents the eyes, the mouth, the heart, and the spine. And that's certainly true. We're going to use that in a moment. One of the well-known pshatim about the dalim minim is that it represents four types of Jews. The esrog has tam v'reyach; it has both a fragrance and it tastes delicious if it's cooked right. A lulav only has tam because it comes from a date tree. But it has no reyach; it has no fragrance. The hadasim have reyach, but they have no tam; they smell delicious, but they don't taste like anything.
And ultimately, the aravos don't taste like anything, and they don't smell like anything. And these represent, many say, the four different types of Jews. There's a Jew who has Torah and mitzvos. That's of course represented by the esrog. He has tam v'reyach. And then there's a Jew who has tam v'reyach. He has Torah without any mitzvos. And then there's a Jew that has mitzvos without any Torah. And then there's a Jew who has nothing at all. What's the idea of tam v'reyach? Imagine you walk into a famous restaurant. And you had to order months in advance in order to get a table at this restaurant. And you finally walk in with someone very special to you, and you walk into the restaurant, and you're sitting in the waiting area waiting for your table to be ready. Because the restaurant has been packed for months. And you sit there, and the fragrance, the ambiance of the restaurant, the smells wafting in from the main dining room, are delicious. It already the whole smell experience is something incredible. And then finally, you're chosen, and they call your name.
Cartwright, two, and you go in all the way deep into the restaurant, and you're sitting in a corner, and the view is amazing. They come with the menu, and you're looking at the menu, and everything smells delicious, everything looks delicious, and you're watching as the waiters and waitresses go by with all of the amazing food. You're wondering, should I order that, or should I order this? And eventually, you order the sirloin steak, the tenderloin steak, the T-bone steak, whatever type of steak you order. And it comes, and they pull off that metal. It comes on that metal tray with the sizzle, and it's like the whole world is watching this amazing piece of meat being served to you. And they give you the special knife, and you cut it, and the juice from the steak spreads all over the steak as you're cutting it, and finally you make a proper bracha. You put it in your mouth, and there's an explosion of taste in your mouth.
It's unbelievable taste. What happens is that the fragrance, the ambiance, the connectedness of the experience of the eating, is just as important as the eating itself, and it enhances the eating. If you're in a beautiful place, you know, I think it's like, you feel connected to the whole experience. This is the experience of the esrog. There are times in our life where we just feel the ambiance, the mitzvos, the connectedness, mitzvos from a lashon of tzav to be connected. An estroik has a beautiful reyach. It has a beautiful reyach of being connected to their benis lom. And then when you finally sit down to learn that tyra, the taste is such an explosion of taste. The whole experience is just the most. It's literally a mouth watering experience. That's one type of Jew. And perhaps that's a Jew that we all have inside of us. That Jew that has, on certain days, tam v'reach.
Then there are other Jews, and maybe these are also people that we experience inside of ourselves. That sometimes we feel very connected. Mitzvot are abundant in our life, but to actually sit down and learn Hakadosh Baruch Hu's Torah, to sit down and have the main meal, we get busy in our lives, and maybe we feel disconnected, and we don't actually sit down and have the meal. So you walked into the restaurant. And maybe even you did eat the meal, but the meal wasn't delicious. It smelled delicious, but it just never actually worked for you. You ordered the wrong thing. Some days you learn tyra, and the tyra is delicious. It's a great meal, but you're at a fast food restaurant, and so it just doesn't. It's not the same experience. You might have eaten a lot. You might have put a lot of tyra inside of yourself, but you feel so disconnected. And then ultimately it culminates with another type of Jew, which all of us have had these days, when we feel like this type of Jew, when there's no time, there's no rayach. I'm not interested in this anymore. I can't do this anymore. It's too difficult. It's too much. I can't. I just feel so disconnected. I don't want to learn. I don't want to do mitzvos, and we have that type of Jew inside of us also.
And perhaps this is the reason why we take the dal al minim into the sukkah Because the message the Rebbeinu Shalom is sending to us is, I love you. For you, all types of Jews that you have inside of yourself. On the days when you have tam dreiach, and on the days when you have tam belayreiach, and reiach belay tam, and on the days when you have neither, I love you. Eyes, mouth, spine, heart—bring it all into the sukkah. The Rebbeinu Shlom gives us that hug. He's telling you, "I love you unconditionally. I love you for who you are." But at the same time, I think the Rebbeinu Shlom wants that same thing from us. There's an amazing ricanti. It's brought in the chazanish. It's brought in the berheitev. It's really from the beis yosef. The beis yosef brings a ricanti. And he asks the shayla, 'What's the makar for taking all the dalminim together, including the esrog? Why do we shake them all together?'
And the ricanti says that he had a dream. There was a certain chassid from Ashkenaz who was sleeping in his house on the night of Sukkot. And his name was Rav Yitzchok And this Rav Yitzchok. In the dream, the rikanti saw him, and he was writing Hakadosh Baruch Hu's name. First a yud. Then a hay, then a vav, and then finally, all the way at the other end of the page, he would write another hay. And the rikanti asks him, "What are you doing?" And the rikitschuk said, "In my town in Ashkenaz, this the minig. This the minig. This how we write Hakadosh Baruch Hu's name." And the rikanti made a big macha, and he said, "We don't write Hakadosh Baruch Hu's name that way." And with that, he awoke from the dream. And he didn't understand what the dream meant. When he went downstairs the next morning, he saw the schlosed from Ashkenaz and he was waving the dalad minim. And he sees that in one hand he's waving the esrog, and in the other hand, totally separate, far away, he's waving the hadasim, the aravos, and the lulav. And immediately the rikanti understood what the dream meant, because all of the dalad minim really are different expressions of Hakadosh Baruch Hu's name.
And that's where the minhag comes from that we take all dalad minim together. And I think, albeit what we've been saying, we can suggest the following. If you want Hakadosh Baruch Hu to accept you and all of your shtick and all of your imperfections, then you need to accept the Rebbeinu Shalom as well. You need to understand that being in a relationship with Hakadosh Baruch Hu also has to be unconditional, even on days when it's not so easy, even on days when there's tam v'le'rayach and rayach v'le'tam, and especially on those days when it's very, very dark and there's neither tam nor rayach. There's a tremendous amount of suffering in this world. Suffering that cannot be explained. I heard a masechah from a chaver of mine. He had told me that Ravolbi was Zeichitzalik Levrachah was speaking to Rav Chatskal Levinstein in Mishkiach from Mir Yeshiva Zeichitzalik Levrachah.
And Ravolbi was asked by Rav Chatskal how many yidden died in the Holocaust And Ravolbi understood that Rav Chatskal was not asking him for a number, but he didn't know what to respond. They say six million. Sirv Chatskel shook his head and said, "No. How many Yidden died in the Holocaust?" Sirv Olbi didn't know what to say. He said, "Rebbe, they say six million people died in the Holocaust." Sirv Chatskel said, "You're wrong." Everyone died in the Holocaust. All ganz klai Israel died in the Holocaust. The suffering that Jews understood—it's basically been armed uber since those dark days. People still can't stop talking about it. I get the catch that they come to me and they say to me, Rebbe, I can't hear any more Holocaust stories. It's for our generation. It's this suffering of our grandparents, of the knowledge that because we were Jews, there were people that just wanted to eradicate us. The feeling of vulnerability, the feeling that we have no place. And Rebbe Nachshon, you want me to love you despite this? You want me to love you despite all the tragedy? And we don't even need to go to the Holocaust. People that are yisaimim and yisaimis have so much pain in the world and suffering in the world. You look around; everybody is so hurt.
And the Rebbeinu Shalom wants us to love him And the answer is yes. The answer is if you want to be in an unconditional relationship, then you have to be in an unconditional relationship. If you want the Rebbeinu Shalom to love you with all of your imperfections, then you also need to love him with everything that goes on in the world, because life is not always an asurug. Sometimes life is our ravos, and it is very, very difficult. Just finished with this ma'ase that I heard from Rav Moshe Weinberger. It tells the story of Rav David Oltana. The Oltana Rebbe, who many of the Hasidim would travel across Russia to come see him, like Chanuka Menira. And the thousands of Hasidim would Would come to see him. And one year Running out of time, so I'll make this a little bit fast. But one year.
If David gets up to the menorah and he's waiting five, ten, fifteen, twenty minutes and he's waiting to light the menorah And he's not—it's just not happening. All the Hasidim are wondering why the Rebbe isn't lighting. And finally, the Rebbe looks out and he calls for Shaya the Hoicha to come to him. Shaya the tall one. In the town, it used to be that people were described like that: the big one, the small one, the tailor, the butcher. So Shaya was Shaya the Hoicha, Shaya the tall one. And Shaya the tall one comes to the Rebbe. The Rebbe says to him Shaya, I need to ask you a question, and it's mamish sakonish nafashos. It's mamish life or death. And Shaya was a person who lost both of his parents, who didn't know, he didn't know Aleph Bayis. He was a good Jew, but he didn't know anything. He didn't know what the Rebbe could possibly want with him. He said, Rebbe, I don't know the answer to any questions. And the Rebbe said to Shaya, he said, Reb David, I'll say to Shaya, he says, Shaya, you know the answer to this question. I need to ask you. It's life or death. Shaya, do you love your wife?
And everyone was very confused. What's Reb Dovid asking Shai if he loves his wife, and Shai didn't really understand what was going on. So he, Rebbe, of course I love my wife. And so the Rebbe clapped. He was very excited. Shai loves his wife. And the Chassid himself, good. Shai loves his wife. Shai loves his wife. And then the Rebbe said, Shai, tell me, you're very, very tall, and your wife is very, very short. And Reb Dovid was also of a diminutive stature physically. And he said to him, Shai, sometimes do you want to tell your wife that you love her? So he said, "Of course." So he said, 'Shaya, could you show me? Pretend I'm your wife. Could you show me how it is that you tell your wife that you love her?' It's very, very embarrassing for Shaya. He's standing in front of thousands of chassidim. They're all waiting for the rebbe to light the menorah. And if the rebbe says what to do, then he has to do it. And so Shaya bends down.
And he says to the rebbe, "I love you." So the rebbe looks up at Shaya and he goes, 'Shaya, are you leaving out any details from the story? Are you leaving out any details?' So Shaya thinks to himself and he says, 'Yes, Rabbi, I'm leaving out some details because I'm so tall.' I can't even bend down far enough for my wife to hear me say 'I love you.' So she also stands on her tippy toes. And the Rebbe looks at Shaya with such joy in his eyes, and he says, 'Shaya, your mamash saved my life. Thank you so much.' And he lit the Menorah that year, and it was something special in the Talmud that year. Nobody understood what was going on, but the passion of the Rebbe lighting the Menorah and the passion that was in the air, the fervor that was in the air, was indescribable. And afterwards. In any good chassidish shemaisa, some of the other chassidim go over to the rebbe and they ask him, 'Rebbe, what was with that whole thing?' Asking Shai if he loves his wife. It used to be that people didn't share their feelings out loud like they do today.
And maybe that was a better time. It was a better time. So the rebbe explained. He said, "I was sitting here" And I'm about to light the menorah, and I thought to myself, the Rebbeinu Shalom is so vast. He's so big. He's so infinite. Does the Rebbeinu Shalom really care if I light one there? And then I started thinking to myself: If the Rebbeinu Shlom doesn't care if I light this one there, does the Rebbeinu Shlom care if I put on tefillin? And if the Rebbeinu Shlom doesn't care if I put on tefillin, does the Rebbeinu Shlom care if I keep Shabbos? And I was on this roller coaster, and you're sitting there thinking, I'm this Rebbe, and I'm about to go do this tremendous avodah, and in the meantime, I'm going off the derech in my head, and I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how I could light that menorah? I wasn't able to light that menorah. And then I saw Shai, and it reminded me that despite the fact that the Rebbeinu Shlom is so big, he bends down to us.
He bends down to us to give us that hug, to tell us that he loves us, to make us feel safe, and all we have to do is stand on our tippy toes to hear him say it. And we're sitting in the sukkah in this man, and it's so easy. It's so easy if you just quiet all the noise, and you'll leave your home and you'll enter into the dirasayray teishvuke into duro. Even though we don't belong in the Rebbeinu Sholom's home, from our perspective, we have to act as if we belong there. And if you act as if you belong there, you will feel that hug. You can feel that hug, kikarav elecha hadaver ma'ed. It's very, very close to you. To feel that hug, it's very, very close to you. And perhaps, this is the meaning of the yalkut in Parshas Emor that says that if somebody fulfills the mitzvah of sukkah nowadays, it guarantees us a place in the sukkah of Mashiach. Merebi amenu that ultimately we will be able to understand that the Rebbeinu Sholom loves. Not our perfection, not our imperfection. He just loves us. He's giving us that hug to remind us there will always be a place in this world for a Jew, no matter what happens. I love you.
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