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Shiur · Rav Mordechai Burg

Tzav - Stop “Connecting” to Hashem, You Were Never Apart To Begin With

Mar 25, 202646 minTranscript
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Why are korbanos called shalom? And why does the Midrash insist that only a nation that accepted the Torah, not just one that keeps it,can bring them? In this shiur, delivered in Ba'er Miriam, Rav Burg opens up a radically deeper understanding of korbanos. Not just as a sacrifice, but as a profound act of inner and cosmic realignment. This shiur covers topics such as: Why peace in Torah doesn’t mean the absence of conflict, but the harmony of opposites within a higher unity. The inner “civil war” every person lives with and how an aveirah is choosing fragmentation over wholeness. Why the nations of the world wanted korbanos but couldn’t truly access them. What it means to “accept the Torah” as a posture of reality, not just a system of laws. How a korban is not giving something to Hashem but surrendering the illusion that you were ever separate from Him to begin with. Drawing on deep Torah ideas and psychological insight, this shiur reframes korbanos as the ultimate act of healing, restoring both the self and the world to their true center.

Transcript

Automatic transcript; may contain mistakes, especially in Hebrew.

This week's parsha is Parsha Tzav. First of all, I think it says a lot about Be'er Miriam. Twenty girls here, b'enas manim, seven o'clock at night. Very, very, very impressive. Girls in Be'er Miriam show up to learn Torah. It's a beautiful thing. It should be a sechus for Gan Ziklal Yisrael. There's an unbelievable medrash tanchuma at the beginning of this week's parasha. The medrash tanchuma says as follows: the pasuk says v'zos toras zevach shlamim. These are the laws of the carbon shlamim, which is a peace offering. And the medrash says as follows: zeshah amar akasov. This is what the pasuk means in Tehillim. Eshma myedaber hakel Hashem ki edaber shalom el amo veel chasidov. Let me hear what the Almighty Hashem will speak, for He will speak peace to His people and to His chasidim, to the righteous ones. So the Medrash explains, what is this pasuk in Telem referring to?

Amru umos haolam leBilam. The nations of the world had a conversation with their prophet. Who was the prophet of the nations of the world? Bilam is the prophet of the nations of the world. We have Moshe, they have Bilam. And the nations of the world asked Bilam the following question: Why is it that Hakadosh Baruch Hu told Klal Yisrael you should be makriv karbanos? You guys should bring karbanos. And to us, Hakadosh Baruch Hu doesn't say anything. That's what the nations of the world want to know. How come Hashem doesn't invite us to bring karbanos? Amr lehem Bilam, so Bilam responded to them. Har carbonos ena ella shalom. A carbon is peace. A carbon is shalom. Umisha kibul as a Torah sheksumim bat zarch shiakriv carbonos. Somebody who accepted the Torah in which these carbonos are written, so of course they have to be makriv carbonos. They have to bring sacrifices. Atem you Bilam says mitchila psaltem osa. From the very beginning, you were not interested in accepting the Torah. You were pasl. You rejected the Torah.

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The Achshav atem mavakshim lahakir of Karbanos, and now you're coming to me and saying you want to be Makir of Karbanos. You didn't accept the Torah. They did. Misha kiblu who Makir of Karbanos. Shenemar Hashem ozah moyutena Hashem yevarech hazamav b'shalom. And this what the pasuk says that Hashem is blesses a nation of peace, meaning the Karbanos are peace. This a nation of peace. They accepted the Torah, so that's why they get to be makar of karbanos. Therefore, it is said in Tehillim, "Let me hear what the Almighty Hashem will speak." What does it mean? Hashem will speak to the nation that accepted the Torah, meaning Klal Yisrael. What will He say? Bring karbanos. This is the medrash. It's a very interesting medrash. There's one particular nikkuda of this medrash that's very difficult to understand. Betz Hashem, we're going to spend a couple of minutes tonight unpacking this medrash. Just this question.

The question is as follows: Bilam's answer is a very unusual answer. At first glance, it makes sense. But if you think about it a little more, you'll see that Bilam's answer makes very little sense. What did Bilam answer? The nations of the world are coming, and they're saying, 'How come Hashem never invited us to be makor of karbanos?' What's Bilam's answer? Bilam's answer is they accepted the Torah, you rejected the Torah. Is that really what it's about? Is it really about the fact that we accepted the Torah Or is it about that we fulfill the Torah? It's interesting. Bilam, at first glance, it makes sense. Bilam saying, 'Look, they accepted it, you rejected it.' But when you start to think about it a little bit more deeply, you realize, wait a second, what's he saying already? Klal Yisrael accepted the Torah. And therefore, from now on, Hashem invites us to be makor of kabbanos.

It's not again; it's impressive to accept the Torah. There's no doubt about it. But there's a very big difference between l'mashal. If somebody proposes to you, that's very beautiful. If somebody says, 'Will you marry me?' It's even beautiful if they stand under the chuppah. But what happens after that? That's what's called marriage. So I would have expected Bilam to say, "This is Klal Yisrael." Klal Yisrael follows the word of Hashem. It's he's Bilaam is being tola. He's saying this entire thing is dependent on the fact that we said Natsav and Ishma. That was but a moment. What about everything since then? So Bilaam is saying from the beginning you rejected it. Now what are the nations of the world coming to say? I want to be in a relationship with Hashem. I want to be Makriv Karbanos. Bilam said, "But you rejected it. Say that we made a mistake. We shouldn't have done that. Now let's pick up the relationship. And Klaliyosol. What's impressive about Klaliyosol is not that we keep the Torah."

What's impressive about Klaliyosol is that we accepted the Torah. That's the impressive part. You see what I'm saying? The whole thing is coming down in the Medrash to one moment. In one moment, you made a bad decision, and Klaliyosol made a good decision. So now they're invited to be makar of karbanos. It's very strange. It's a very strange answer. Again, if you don't think very deeply about it, it makes sense. But if you start to think, even for a couple of minutes about it, you'll realize it seems to be a very strange answer. Let's begin to answer this question by hitting pause on that question for a couple of minutes. Let's ask ourselves a very deep question. The Medrash says that a carbon is shalom. That's the lashon of the Medrash. Let's go back and look at the lashon again. I want to just make sure we're getting it all right. Amr Lahem Bilam. Bilam said, 'Ha karbanos enam elam shalom.' A carbon is peace. What does that mean? A carbon shlamim is called a peace offering. Not every carbon is peace. There's such a thing called a carbon chatos, for example. That's I did an avera. Now I'm doing tshuva. There's such a thing called a carbon ola.

Not every carbon is a carbon shlamim. What's going on over here? Bilam is saying every carbon is a carbon shalom. Obviously, it means that we need to understand the word shalom very differently. In the world Shalom means the absence of conflict. That's what it means. We've never had in modern history since 1948 we've had ceasefires. We've never really had a true peace. We just have times. I'm a little afraid that's what's starting to happen right now in Iran. You could already start to sense that Trump is starting to end the war. We already accomplished all of our military objectives, and he said yesterday they already gave us some gift. I'm not going to tell you what it is. But they gave us a gift that's worth a lot of money, and we're dealing with the right people, and the negotiations are starting. I'm a little concerned that what we're about to enter into is another ceasefire. And we all know, especially if you've been studying modern history in Israel, and especially if you've been living here for the last, for some of you now it's almost two years, for me it's 18. If you've been living here for a couple of minutes, you know that a ceasefire is just an opportunity for us to rearm before the conflict begins again.

So what's called peace in the world is not really peace. It's like two neighbors who live side by side but have nothing to do with each other. We describe that as peaceful. What does peaceful mean? Peaceful means they're not fighting with each other. In the Jewish world, that's not called peace. In the Jewish world, we have much bigger ambitions for peace. What does peace mean to us, to Yidden? What does peace mean? What was that? Holiness. Shleimus is a much closer definition, but we have to also understand what that means. That's a very good word. That's at least a much better word than the absence of conflict. I think that for us, the way we're going to use the word shalom tonight is that shalom means the harmony of opposites within a higher unity. Meaning. And let's unpack this together. That two things that are really opposite forces, that are one hundred percent opposite forces, they can unify themselves when there's something bigger that they're both surrendered to.

The obvious example, then I'll do the less obvious example. The obvious example of this is that an orchestra that's playing a beautiful symphony, not everyone is playing the same notes. In fact, what makes it beautiful is that they're playing different notes. But within the larger context of that orchestra, with that symphony, each one, in a certain sense, is surrendering their sound to something larger. And so their instrument, which naturally would go against another instrument Somehow is able to harmoniously work together to make this very beautiful song. I have a very good friend who's one of the big music producers for Thank You Hashem. His name is Yehuda Pinskyr. Yehuda Pinsky is a very good friend of mine. We learned together in Mevaseret. It's a couple of years ago. And he's now he produces music for Thank You Hashem. I like Yehuda very much. Yehuda's a very, in my mind, Yehuda's like somebody I look up to very much. He's the real deal.

Now Thank You Hashem is putting out these YouTube shorts, these behind the scenes videos, showing what it's like to make the music. Yehuda Pinskyr is in these YouTube shorts. They just put out a song. I like this song very much. The thank you of Hashem's army. What's it called? The army of Hashem. I like that song very much. I like that song very much. I have a couple of friends that were in that video. I have a friend who's coming to yeshiva next year. His name is Charlie Bader. Charlie Bader was in that video. Yehuda Pinsker was in that video. So my kids and I were watching the video together. And I'm like, there's all my friends in the video. So I want to be in a thank you Hashem video. That's my plug. So Yehuda is showing how they made this song, the army of Hashem, and he's showing the breakdown of each individual singer and each individual note. It's very cool on its own. None of these notes are music; they're musical. None of these notes are a song by themselves. What makes these songs great is when each one of these songs is part of this larger thing. That's what makes it beautiful when each song surrenders to something higher than itself. And now it's part of this greater unity.

I think that's maybe what you meant by shlemos. Now something that appears to be an opposing force—not only is it not an opposing force, it's a force that really works beautifully with this other force. I went out to eat with my wife today. And Baruch Hashem, every Wednesday we're able to go out to eat. My wife said to me We were talking about—maybe I shouldn't say the details. I don't think she'd mind, but she was talking about a certain way of being. That women have that I said to her, men don't have. I don't mind saying what it was. That sometimes women will dress the way they want to feel. Like if it's a dreary day outside, they might wear certain colors. You're nodding your head. I want you to know. This is what I said to my wife. She said, if it's rainy, you might wear something nicer, like lighter colors. It'll make you feel a little bit more vibrant.

So I said, I want you to know. I know that biologically, men and women. I know that we're part of the same biological species. I know that I have a brain and you have a brain, and I have two eyes and you have two eyes. I know we're both thoughtful. I know that we both can communicate and feel and think through things. I want you to know we're not the same species at all in my life, and well before I started wearing white shirts every day. I want you to know in my life, not once did I ever think about what clothing do I want to wear to give me a certain mood. Based on the weather, it's not no man. No man has ever once in his life had that feeling. It's like it just doesn't happen, even for those people that wear colored shirts. Not that there's anything wrong with wearing colored shirts, but there's no guy that's been like, "It's snowy out today. It feels cold. Let me wear like light blue to make myself feel better." There's not, and if there was such a boy in high school and he told that to me, it was the 90s. We didn't know any better. I would have had to beat him up. I would have had to. I wouldn't have had a choice. It would have been that's the rules in the 90s. You had to beat those children up.

Obviously, that's the wrong thing to do. And anyone who's listening to this in 2026 That's cruel. But that was the rules back in the 90s. No man has ever thought that way. How do these two species get married? It doesn't make any sense. How could a man and a woman get married? It doesn't make any sense. How could these two people, who have such different ways of seeing the world, in every fiber of my being, were different. It's not politically correct to say, but there is a book called "Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus." It's true. We're from different planets. What's the pshat? The pshat is a man can't marry a woman, and a woman can't marry a man. But a man can become a husband, and a woman could become a wife. That's how we get married. We're surrendered. We have shalom with each other, right? When we're part of something larger than ourselves. That's what the Gemara says. Ish ve isha when they're shalom beneim the shechina is shur yasham. What does that mean? Ish has a yud in it, right? Isha has a hay in it, right? There's a yud and there's a hay. That means that a man and a woman who belong to Hashem, marriage is a godly institution.

People forget that. People today in 2026 are trying to redefine marriage. What does marriage mean? Marriage could mean anything today. Marriage. I have a dog. I'm married to my dog. I want a tax break for being married to my dog. The Torah tells us what marriage is. Marriage is I'm surrendered to an institution called Hashem that's larger than myself. I belong to this spiritual, religious institution. That's what it means. Ish ve'isha when they're shalom b'neiim, meaning these two opposing forces. If you actually see these two opposing forces working together in a unified, harmonious fashion. How could it be? It's because there's a yud and there's a hay. Each one has surrendered themselves to something larger than themselves, and in so doing, they became more than what they are. On the other hand, if they don't surrender themselves, we know what the Gemara says: fire is going to consume them.

Because these opposing forces are just going to smash into each other. There'll be no shalom. For us, the definition of shalom is not the absence of conflict. We're very ambitious. In Judaism, we're very ambitious about peace. Peace doesn't mean the absence of conflict. Peace means you see the world the way you see the world, and I mamish disagree with you. I see the world completely differently. But when we sit at the same table, there's something so exceptionally precious about that Because each one of us is truly listening to each other. We're refining our ideas. We're trying to arrive at something that's true. We're not in this for the ego. That's why today people can't talk. People can't talk because they're not surrendered to this larger thing called the truth. Democrats and Republicans can't marry each other. They each think that the other is part of this evil empire. The greatness of any country is when we allow people with dissenting views not only to have their opinions, but we can sit at the same table. We don't need to murder them because they go to college campuses and say things that you don't like.

That's what happened to Charlie Kirk. We're meant to have these conversations. And Adaraba, if two of us would sit down together, each with our opposing viewpoints, but surrendered to this larger thing called the truth, then I would appreciate the fact that you have a position that's different than me. One of my best friends in the world, Mamish, is Jewish and married to a Gentile. He lives in the Czech Republic. We grew up together. He's Mamish, a close friend of mine. When I say close friend, I mean one of my best friends in the world. I love him dearly. I don't think there's anything in the world that we agree on. I'm honest. There's probably, except for the fact that we love each other, nothing that we agree on in politics and certainly in religion. We both like to be in control. We both like the NBA. Maybe that's one thing. But how long can a person talk about LeBron James's legacy for? The truth is, when we get together, it's so beautiful to get together with him. We could talk about anything. He's so deeply respectful. Our conversations are honest.

We're not trying to be something that we're not with each other. It's beautiful. Adarab, I appreciate that. I told him, and I say this publicly. Mike, you make me a better rebbe. You give me an opposing viewpoint. It gives me empathy for people that see the world the way that you do. I can see. I can listen to them. I can understand their experience a little bit better because you're my friend. It's true. I'm not even saying it as like a make him feel good thing. It's not chanifah chas v'shalom. He makes me a better rebbe. I appreciate that he sees the world differently than me. Doesn't mean I think he's right. But I value our conversations, and slowly, when we have these types of conversations, our ideas get sharpened. We think about things in a way that we never thought about them before. That's shalom. Shalom doesn't mean we have to agree. Other rabbi, shalom highlights our differences, but it highlights it like accenting pieces. It makes it more beautiful. It doesn't diminish it in any way. Chas v'shalom.

Our world does not currently exist in a state of shalom. Our world, the nature of our world is that it doesn't exist in a state of shalom. In our world, we exist in a state of conflict. What's the conflict in our world? The conflict in our world is that there's something called matter, and there's something called essence. There's the tangible, physical reality that you can touch, that you can smell, that you can see, that you can taste. That's the five senses. I see, I experience a world that's in front of me. And then there's another world that's beyond my five senses. I can sense it in my soul. I believe deeply that it's there. Not believe without proof. What I mean when I say believe is like emuna, a higher level of sensing. Sometimes I sense that something is true, and it's true because I can't measure it.

If I tried to, if somebody said, 'Can you prove to me that your wife loves you?' That would be, first of all, no, and second of all, how pathetic would that be to even try? And third of all, if I could, that would mean it's not love. I wouldn't want love that you can measure in a laboratory. I can tell you that my wife loves me and I love my wife. I sense it more deeply. That's called emuna. That's called essence. Does that make sense? So there's a conflict in our world. When I look at the table, I don't experience the essence of this table. This table has an essence. There is a godliness to this table. I don't experience the godliness of this table. This table lives in conflict with itself. There's a civil war that's occurring within this table. The table, on the one hand, the essence of the table says, "I'm godly." The material part of the table, the part that I can touch, says, "I exist independent from Hashem." Our world exists in a state of conflict.

There's a civil war that's happening in our world. What's the result of that civil war? Our experience in this world is very conflicted. Not only about ourselves. We'll just talk about the world for a second. We experience everything in this world as an independent reality, separate from Hashem. But the truth is, nothing in this world is a self-standing being. Everything in this world is constantly being rooted in Hashem. So our material world lives in a state of conflict, and we who look out at the material world, when we look at the world, we're very confused by it. We're very confused. You have a couple of shekels in your pocket. There's an ani that comes and asks you for tzedakah. It's very confusing to live in the world. The money wants to be given to tzedakah if that's appropriate.

If it's within the halachic boundaries. Obviously, you're not supposed to give away all of your money to tzedakah. But if you have money to give away, what does that money yearn to be? The essence of that money is that it yearns to be tzedakah. But we look at that money and we go, "But I could buy, I could go somewhere and I could buy a new outfit, I could buy a new jumper." I just learned that word. I'm still not 100% sure. I know this is funny. I don't want you to tell me the answer. I like that I'm ignorant. I'm still not 100% certain. What's the difference between a skirt, a shirt, and a blouse? I'm not, and I like that. It's good. Don't try to explain it to me. I have five daughters. Baruch Hashem, I'm 45 years old. I'm a grandfather. I don't want to know the answer. I want to go to my grave, not being 100% sure what the answer is. This is part of what being a man is. Men have shirts and pants, and that's it. We don't have lots of different words for these things. We have hoodies. We don't have jumpers.

We have water. We don't have water. It's a whole. I know you think you're from you know you're from England. You think you're from where English is from. We have a. I know it's because it's true. But fundamentally, I'm from the Five Towns, so my arrogance is very strong. I believe that I'm the center of the universe, and you speak funny. The money. It's late at night. There was a siren at one o'clock in the morning. But it's been there. We should just acknowledge the reality. That dollar in my pocket, those schkalim in my pocket. What do they want? Do they want to go? They want to go to Meli. They want it. That's the thing. They want to go to Zara's. Zoya's. What's Zara's? That's also a thing. Good. Say there. I'm three for three. The they want. What does that money want? It's a conflict. I look at that money. I don't know what it wants to be.

I know what the essence of that money desires to be. But that money exists in a fragmented state. It exists in a state of conflict. I want to share with you a thought that I had. What is an avera? We think very small about what an avera is. We have a very small definition of what an avera is. What's an avera? Avera, I did the wrong thing. That's what we think an avera is. Hashem told me to do X and I did Y. That's an avera. I think an avera is much deeper than that. An avera is the revelation. That not only does the world exist in a state of conflict, I also exist in a state of conflict. Me, within my own person, I also have a civil war that's going on. On the one hand, I want to live a life of kedusha, but on the other hand, I want to live a life of indulgence.

I think a lot of us struggle with that. We yearn for something transcendent, but at the same time, I don't want to surrender myself to something larger than myself. I want to have these exceptional davenings, but I also don't want to wake up in the morning. It's we live in that state of conflict. We want meaning in my life, but my bed is so comfortable. So you know those cold, bare Miriam winters in January. It's like Kimat snowing here in Yerushalayim. Mirakodesh, the floor is so cold, the bed is so warm. But I want to wake up and have this amazing davening. The blanket is perfect. And I'm the pillow is the exact right temperature. It's the cold side of the pillow, but it's not too cold. It's like everything is perfect. I want meaning in my life, but am I willing to give up meaning for comfort? Where do I? What's the part of me that wants transcendence, that wants to surrender, that wants meaning? That's my neshama. But what's the part of me that wants to be indulgent, that wants comfort? What's the part of me that doesn't want to surrender in my life? That's my body. I'm also in a state of surrender. I'm in a state of conflict. What is an avera?

An avera is really just an expression of I chose to live in a fragmented way. Avera is what happens when I'm not bishalom. I'm not bishalom with myself. My person is not bishalom. Avera is actually the result of a larger problem. We think of an avera and we look at an avera and we say that's the symptom. Avera is just a symptom. It's like imagine if somebody says I have strep throat. You say, what strep throat? Your throat bothers you. The fact that your throat bothers you is because you have strep. You didn't have veira because you're living in the world of fragmentation and not in the world of unity. You can't treat the symptom. You have to treat the cause. We're all living. The world is living in a state of civil war. A person, every person, is living in a state of civil war. That's what we're all going through, and that's why we're so frustrated with ourselves because we don't know who we are from one day to the next. That's why people are walking around saying I'm a faker.

I say I want meaning, but I also don't want to wake up in the morning. So I'm a faker. It's not true that you're a faker. The design of this world is that you're fragmented. The design of this world is that you want multiple things. You're not living yet in a state of shalom. Tshuva is really part of a process that puts things back together. That's the nature of tshuva. Tshuva is to create shalom within a person. Does that make sense? That's why even the word tshuva, like it says in Tanya, tshuva is to return the hey, tashuv hey, to return the hey. There's four letters to Hashem's name. There's a yud, there's a hey, there's a vav, and there's a hey. When you do an avera, it breaks off the last hey from Hashem's name. Tshuva is the restoration of that hey. It's putting Hashem's name back together.

Everything in this world comes from that one fragmented claim that I exist outside of the realm of Hashem. That's everything in this world. Every war, every fight between a husband and wife, every fight between roommates, every time we do an avera, everything comes back to that one concept. We're living in a state of fragmentation. We think we exist independently from Hashem, and it's not true. We've never lived independently from Hashem. Let's go deep now. What is a karban? A karban is a sacrifice. That's not what Bilam said in the Medrash. What did Bilam say in the Medrash? A karban is shalom. What did Bilam mean by that? What did he mean? A carbon is shalom. A carbon is when each piece of reality no longer experiences itself as independent. That's what a carbon is from. A carbon is from the notion of karov to draw close. What does a carbon do? A carbon draws something back to its essence. It draws it back to a state of unity. That's why a carbon is shalom. Something got lost along the way. Something became fragmented. It became distant. What does it mean that it became distant? From the perspective of oneness, nothing could ever be distant.

But the fact that it feels distant from Hashem, the fact that something wandered off and it sees itself as an independent reality, what does it mean? What does it need now? It needs to be drawn back close. It needs to be brought back to its unified state. That's what it means to be a bishalom. A carbon is bishalom because it brings everything back. It's like if chas vishalom a husband and a wife stray from each other. And they've become distant from one another. They need to bring a carbon. What does it mean? It means they need to figure out how to find each other again. They need to be brought back. You got married. You're not just a man and a woman anymore. You're a husband, a wife. But somehow along the way, you reverted back to your state of being a man, and you reverted back to your state of being a woman. A carbon restores them back to that unified state of being a husband, a wife. A husband takes a piece that's fragmented and returns it back to its source.

A carbon shlamim is a sacrifice that a person brings freely, just because a person wants to. They don't have to. They're not obligated to. A good example of a carbon shlamim is a carbon toda. What's a carbon toda? A carbon toda is a thanksgiving offering to Hashem. It's recognizing that Hashem did something for me in my life. But interestingly, Bilam is not just saying a carbon shlamim is shalom. He's saying every carbon is shalom. Why? Because every carbon draws reality back to its inner essence. Back to its source. How do we do this? What does it mean for us? Bring ourselves back to our unified state, bring the world back to its unified state. So the idea is like this. Let's go. We're gonna try to go a little bit deeper now. How do we become whole? How do we become whole? You use that word, shlemus. How do we become whole?

Some people try to be whole by ignoring the darker parts of themselves. It's like, I'll be whole if I could just amputate that part of myself. If only I could figure out how to get rid of my yetsahara. If only I could figure out how to remove any darkness from my life, then I would be whole. These are the things that are making me not whole. Let me excise this tumor, and then I could be whole again. In Yiddishkeit, that's not what we believe in. If shalom meant amputation, that would be a totally different word. If shalom means that I take opposing forces and restore them to their state of wholeness by surrendering themselves to something larger, it means that inside of myself, I have to stop pretending that the darkness doesn't exist. I have to stop davening for the darkness to go away. I need to find the beauty in my darkness. I need to integrate that darkness back to its larger source. I need to recognize that fragmented part of myself—it feels fragmented because it hasn't yet unfolded enough to discover its beauty.

In other words, for example. If you have a 16 year old boy or a 16 year old girl, and they have a darker part of themselves, a part of themselves that doesn't want to do the right thing So they want to get rid of that part. They say, I hate this. If I could push a button and wake up in the morning and daven, and it would be meaningful, I would push that button. But Lamais, I don't have that button, and I wish that I could just amputate this Yitzharos, so that I would wake up in the morning every single day, and I would want to daven like I'm on fire. Again, I'm giving an easy example because I don't want to say real examples. You could put real examples. I don't want to say real examples, not because we don't all know them, but because why should we speak negatively? The truth is, we all know. Sixteen-year-old boy, a sixteen-year-old girl. They're hormonal. They have things in their lives and make foolish decisions. They don't want to be this way. They don't want to live in this state of conflict. So they say, maybe if I could just amputate this part of me, it's not true.

It's because they're not old enough yet to appreciate that maybe the reason they're struggling in this way is because they're yearning for something that's very beautiful. It's misguided right now, but the bikush, the yearning itself is beautiful. For example, if a person said, "It's so hard for me to daven to their Aban Hashem because I'm in pain" And I don't want to talk to Hashem right now. I'm not interested in talking to Hashem right now because I'm upset at Hashem because something very bad happened in my life, something that's really painful. Something that's so painful that it'll never go away. So when they say, 'I'm not interested in davening to Hashem,' and then they feel like they have shame over the fact that they're not interested in talking to Hashem, they don't realize there's something beautiful about the fact that they don't want to talk to Hashem in that moment. What's beautiful about it? They yearn for a Rebbeinu Shalom that's just. They yearn for a Rebbeinu Shalom that they could see Hashem's plan. It's so uncomfortable to believe deeply in Hashem's goodness. And to be able to feel at the same time like Hashem is doing something to me that's more painful than anything I've experienced in my life.

And I don't want to have a God that way. I want to have a God that I understand. I want to have a God that I could assimilate His ways into my ways of being. So it's a fragmented reality that they don't want to daven But it's also beautiful. The reason why they can't daven is because they think of that part of themselves that doesn't want to daven as something terrible. But really, when they'll discover the inner beauty of that desire not to daven, it'll bring them back to davening. It'll bring them back to a state of unity. The husband and wife that are fighting with each other They're fighting with each other because they love each other. They just don't know it.

When the husband says to the wife and the wife says to the husband, "How could you do this to me?" What they mean is, if you had subtitles under their words, it's "how could you do this to me?" You, the person that I love more than anyone in the world, you, the person who's supposed to love me more than anyone in the world, how could you have said or done that thing that hurt me so deeply? The words are fragmentation, but beneath those words is something beautiful. That's how husbands and wives have to find their way back to each other when they realize that all the pain that they've caused each other is a function of the love that they have for each other. That's what brings them back to each other. The reason why the world exists in a state of conflict is because the material world has not yet learned about itself that it so desperately wants to come close to Hashem.

That's why the world says I exist. Who else says I exist? Who's the real existence that proclaims I exist? That's Hashem. When the material world says I exist, who's it acting like? It's acting exactly like Hashem. There's a darker part of this world that's fragmented. But it's only fragmented because it hasn't yet been drawn close. You have to draw it close so that it could be part of that larger unity. You have to get down to its guts. You have to dig deep into each note. Every single note of the music is beautiful. Once you dig down into the richness of each note, then you'll know how to put these notes together. Every note can go together. You just have to figure out how to play them in the right way, in the right order, at the right time, in whatever way, in order to get them to become that symphony.

A carbon chatas, for example, is just an act where I reorder reality. Instead of making myself the center of the world, now Hashem is the center of the world. Once Hashem is the center of the world, I understand what role my avera plays. My avera played the role of bringing me to this moment. That's the beauty of that avera is that I could do tshuva. Everything in the world, when you bring a carbon, the entire world is being restored to its factory settings, going back to the way it was before Adam and Eve sinned. Everything in the world, every single thing, not just Eveyra, everything in the world that exists in a state of conflict. When I bring Karbanos, I'm restoring it back to its factory settings, where I see the unity behind everything. That's why we say Tamid E Chachamim Marbim Shalom Ba Olam. What does it mean? What is the person doing when they learn Torah?

What does it mean when you learn Torah? What are you doing? Become a big Tamochachim? I'm bringing shalom to the world. The more I understand the depth of this world, what is the Torah? The Torah is the blueprint of creation. The more that I understand the blueprint, the more I understand how everything in the house goes together. If I'm a very big Tamochachim, a big tzaddik, what's the job of a big tzaddik? A big tzaddik is supposed to take two opposing forces and show you how they really work together. That's why the biggest tzaddikim in the world. Tzaddikim like the Balshemtov, tzaddikim like Rabbi Nachman, tzaddikim like the Lebavitcher Rebbe, tzaddikim like the Baba Sali, tzaddikim like Rav Kook. All the tzaddikim in the world, what did they want? They all wanted the same thing. They just wanted the biggest rishonim in the world to come close to them. That's what they were doing. They were drawing people away who were the farthest from them. How could they do that? If you're such a big tzaddik, wouldn't you hate a rasha if you're a big tzaddik? Teret says no, because you're a big tzaddik. That's why you love the rasha. The biggest tzaddik in the world has a love for a rasha that you can't possibly understand.

Because the tzaddik knows how to see the inner beauty of the rasha. The tzaddik knows how to be makriv, how to bring, how to draw him close. That's why we say small docha yemei mekareves. What does a tzaddik do? He knows he pushes him away a little bit with the left hand, but he draws him close with the right. What happens when you push something away with the left and you draw with the right? What are you doing? You're turning it around. Like you ever go canoeing? Somebody sits in the front of the boat and they paddle on one side, and the other one paddles on the other. And if you want to turn the boat around, what do you do? You do it in the opposite direction, and the boat turns around. Small dochav yamim mikarevus. We turn this thing around. How? By drawing this person close. I'm pushing away their aveira. I'm drawing close the person.

That's what we need right now in this world, especially now in these final moments before Mashiach comes, when people are living in a state of such deep disconnection from each other. Now more than ever, we need talmidei chachamim so that we can stop living as disconnected realities from each other. That's what's going. That's what sinas chinam is. Sinas chinam is a lack of recognition that every one of us is together. That's what sinas chinam really is. It's because we're all living in this self-enclosed ego, like I am the center of the world and nobody else is. Nobody else is with me. Really, I'm everything in the world. Hashem, everything revolves around me. Once I'm in alignment with the truth, once I'm in alignment with Hashem, now I naturally know how to live in a state of harmony with every other Jew. Why do the nations of the world want to bring karbanos?

Interesting. We didn't ask that question in the very beginning. In the Medrash, what does it say? It says the nations of the world came to Bilaam and they said, 'How come Hashem doesn't tell us to be makar of karbanos?' The way that a guy sees a carbon, it's like an. They see a carbon as like a technology. I mean when I say a technology. They see it as a standalone thing. I could do a religious thing. That's what a guy wants. I want to do a religious thing. I want to have some religious self-expression in my life. So they say, how come I can't participate in this religious self-expression? I also want to. I want a little bit. I want to be able to do something spiritual. How come I can't bring a carbon? What is Bilam's answer? Bilam's answer now is very profound. It's a very profound answer. He doesn't say because Klal Yisrael keeps the Torah. What does he say? Because Klal Yisrael accepted the Torah. Bilam is teaching the nations of the world something fundamental, and he's teaching us something fundamental too.

He's saying because we lived in a reality where Hashem was at the center of our lives. When Hashem came to us and said, 'There's Torah,' what was our response to that? We're in. Nasa v'nishma. We didn't ask any questions. We didn't because we were. It wasn't about us. It's not about us. We live with Hashem at the center of our lives. Everything in a Jew's life is an ordered reality. Essence and matter don't live in a state of conflict to a Jew. So when Hakadosh Baruch Hu comes into our world and He says, 'I have something for you,' what's our response? We're surrendered to You. Tell us what's in it. Of course, I want it. I'm surrendered. Such a person is a person of shalom. We were already surrendered. That's was the secret of how we accepted the Torah. We were so desperately in love with Hashem. So Hashem said, "I have something for you." What do we say? Please, I'm so excited. Tell me what you have. It's like a little kid, right? If a parent comes home to a little kid and says, "I have a surprise," go, "What is it? Tell me what it is," right? If somebody, like those, you ever have Hershey Kisses?

When you unfold the Hershey's Kiss, it has a little bit of white powder on it. From the silver foil, sometimes it has a little bit of a white covering. If somebody gives you a Hershey Kiss and you unfold the silver foil and there's like a little bit of white, and you think to yourself, oh my God, is this anthrax? Is this cocaine? Are you trying to kill me? What does that tell you about the nature of your relationship? If somebody gives you a Hershey Kiss and there's some white powder on it, you probably think it's just from the silver foil. They just gave you a Hershey Kiss. They're not trying to kill you. If you think about it, if you think about the relationship between the two people, then you can see the dynamics are different. Kali Zal was sitting there. Hashem came to us and he said, "I have a Torah." He said, "Awesome. What's a Torah?" We said, 'But we were in. We were in because we were surrendered to something higher than ourselves. The nations of the world. Hashem came to the nations of the world and said, "I have a Torah." We said, 'What's Torah? What's in that Torah? I don't want. We got to be careful with you.'

Meaning we weren't surrendered. They weren't surrendered to Hashem. They didn't. The problem is not that they won't keep the Torah. They could keep Torah. Goyim could also keep Torah. That's not the problem. The problem is they didn't accept the Torah. They weren't in a posture of surrender. A mitzvah is not a technology. A mitzvah is not religious self-expression. Anybody could have spiritual self-expression. Lots of people have that all the time. They go to the mountaintops of Tibet. They meditate. They're yogis. They're breathing. I don't know. Call me an edvairim that have crept their way into Judaism today. Today they have breath work minyanim and yoga minyanim and happy minyanim. They have goat yoga now. Soon we're gonna have goat minyanim. I guarantee you. And in my life, we're gonna have goat minyanim for sure. Because people are taking this thing called Judaism and they're making it spiritual. They're making it about spiritual self-expression. That's what they think it is. They think it's independent technologies that are all part of this master plan. Torah is the ultimate self-help book. If I just follow the Torah, then you know, it's like who's that big Tony Robbins. You ever see Tony Robbins videos? If I just watch enough Tony Robbins videos, then I'll be successful in my life. If I just follow the Torah, then I'll be successful. That's thinking about Torah as religious self-expression.

Torah is something much bigger than religious self-expression. It's I'm in a relationship with Hashem. I'm surrendered to something larger than myself. If Torah was about spiritual self-expression, then it makes sense to say, well, what's in it? Tell me about the program. If you come to me and you say, I want to pitch you on this workout program. You remember P90X? Was that a thing, that girl? You remember P90X? What are programs? I don't know. You girls probably don't do these programs. There's programs. For a while, there were these high-intensity interval training programs that were like that boys would do, and somebody would come and say, if you do P90X for 90 days, at the end, you're gonna be ripped. Every guy in yeshiva was doing P90X for like a minute. It was like a hot thing to do. If somebody comes and says, I have the ultimate workout program. What's your response? Tell me what it is. What type of program is it? Then I'll decide if I want to buy it because it's a technology.

It's a program. Tell me about the program. The Gaon were saying the right thing. They saw Torah as a program. Tell me about this spiritual self-expression program. And that's why they came to Bilam complaining. They said, "How come the Jews only get to have this program? I also want this program." He said to them, "It's not a program. It's a relationship." "It's not a program. It's a relationship." Imagine if I came to you and I said to you. Not me. I'll do a different person. Imagine if you're married and a girl comes to you and says, 'Not fair. How come your husband's married to you? How come he doesn't ever spend time with me? He's not in a relationship with you. It'd be weird if he spent time with you.' Why would he want to spend time with you? When he asked me to marry him, I said yes. You didn't. You weren't on the date. He's right. Or maybe you were dating. You said no. You don't imagine you dated this as recently. Somebody came to me with a story like this that they're gonna date the boy they dated. They're gonna date the brother.

And it's like right. They're having that reaction also, oh, right, and whatever. I don't want to say any more details, but it's even more complex than that. And it's beautiful. I hope they do go out. Like it's a like it's a weird thing. I dated your. I dated your brother. I said to him, I said no. To you, I said yes. Meaning, the Rebbeinu Shlom came to the nations of the world. They said, 'You want to go out?' Oh, wait a second, slow down. I don't know who you are. Tell me about yourself. We were excited to be on the date. Hakadosh Baruch Hu said, "I have a Torah." We said, "Amen." We were in a posture of surrender to someone who's in a posture of surrender to something larger than themselves. They're living in a state of shalom. They're not living in a state of conflict. Conflict is always about ego. A carbon is not an act of giving something to Hashem.

A karban is the act of giving up the illusion that we exist separately from Hashem. More than ever The world is living in an egotistical state. Because that's what happens right before Mashiach comes. Everything needs to break open all the way, so the world has to go to its ultimate extreme ego before it realizes that it's part of this larger thing. So we're living more than ever before in a state of conflict. That's why there's so much war in the world right now. We yearn for a time, which, Blessed Hashem, is going to be very soon. I think it's going to happen in our lifetimes for sure. That our children and our grandchildren are going to talk to us, and they're going to be like, 'Wait a second! Human beings used to kill each other. That's crazy.' Why would a human being kill each other? That doesn't make any sense. That's like one hand chopping off another hand.

Everything in the world exists in a state of unity. How could you not appreciate that unity? And then we're going to explain to them Oh well, it's because they wanted our land, and they're going to be like, what? What does that even mean? It's their Abanishalom's land. The world is going to exist in a state of unity. That's what we're mamish creeping towards. It looks like we're moving in the wrong direction. It's not true. We're getting very, we're mamish at the end. We're mamish at the very, very end. To quote a famous song, we're mamish at the end. We're mamish at the end. The very, very end. At the very end, we're living in a state of ultimate conflict. Ultimate conflict is what happens right before shalom. It's our responsibility to live in a state of shleimus within ourselves, to teach the world what it looks like to be surrendered to something higher, to give up the illusion that we exist apart from Hashem and beez Hashem, to live in a state of shalom, which is the state of Mashiach. Girls have a beautiful Shabbos.

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