The story of Yehuda and Tamar is arguably one of the most complex stories in Tanach. Stranger still, Mashiach descends from this union. In this shiur, based on a sicha from the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rav Burg teaches us the inner meaning of the story of Yehuda and Tamar and how perfection and imperfection are part of the process that brings Mashiach.
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One of the strangest stories in all of Tanach is the story of Yehuda and Tamar. Yehuda married off his oldest son to Tamar, and his oldest son died. He was taken by a kavush baruchu. There is a mitzvah called Yibum. Yibum means that if the first husband dies without children Then the younger brother will marry the wife. And they'll hopefully have children. In the story of Yehuda and Tamar, Yehuda's two oldest children died. Yehuda said to her, "Wait for Shela to grow up, and then I'll marry you off to Shela." Yehuda had really no intention of marrying off Shelah to Tamar. He didn't want to lose a third child, and Tamar understood that this is what's going on. So she dressed up like a zina on the side of the road. She seduced Yehuda. Yehuda ended up conceiving a child with her. We know that at first Yehuda didn't know that it was his child.
And because he didn't know it was his child, he sentenced her to death. Then she, in a very beautiful way, let him know who she was—that it was really his child—and in the end, she gave birth to twins. So, listen how the Torah describes this: "Vayehi be'as lidata vehinei teumim bebitno." Literally, it means at the time she gave birth to twins. Rashi already points out something fascinating. This is really what we're going to be discussing tonight. Two Rashi's, Beis lidda, uberivka hu oimer vei maluya mehal alades lahalon lemaleim vekan lechaserim. Rashi points out that this is not the first birth of twins in the Torah. There's another set of twins, and this story actually runs parallel to that story. One of the things that I've gotten really into learning over the last couple years is what I call the hidden secrets of the stories of Chumash. This is one of those stories that's really like on the surface it's one story, but when you get deeper, you'll see it's a much deeper story. This story is actually meant to be understood in the context of Yaakov and Esav.
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And that's why Rashi already points out the difference between Tamar and Rivka. Tamar had a not full term pregnancy, especially when a person has twins. Very often, it doesn't go nine months. But when it came to Rivka, she had a full term pregnancy. The pregnancy went to nine months. Rashi further points out that when it says the word 'umim,' it says it spelled male. Sometimes you can spell words in the Torah male or chaser. Missing vavs or missing alifs or things like that. Here, the Teumim, the twins, are spelled Molei. It's spelled in its full sense. But when it comes to Yaakov and Esav, there it's spelled Chaser. Why Rashi says Lefisha Echad Rasha Avol Elu Shnehem Tzadikim. When it came to Yehuda and Tamar Is a fascinating dichotomy. On the one hand, the pregnancy was not full, but the children were both tzaddikim. Do you see the yin yang? The children were both tzaddikim, but on the other hand, it didn't go a full nine months. Tamar's twins. They were both tzaddikim, but they didn't go a full nine months. Masha'ein came when it came. We're gonna see. But Rashi clearly puts them together, right? Masha'ein came when it comes to Rivka and Yitzchak having Yaakov and Esav.
The Torah specifically tells us it went a full nine months, but the teumim is spelled chaser. Why? Because one of the children is a rasha. So clearly, the message of the Torah here is that there's something about the pregnancy itself that should be highlighted for us in this story. Now there are other differences that Rashi doesn't mention, and we're going to highlight two of those differences right now. One thing Rashi doesn't mention, but I think it's apparent—it's not something Rashi should have to mention. It should be obvious. Once Rashi tells us that this story needs to be read in the context of another story, so then it should highlight for us something else that's going on. If we look at the conception of these children, it's two very different stories. Yitzchok and Rivka, we know, got married, and for twenty years they didn't have children.
What do Chazal tell us they were doing for twenty years? For twenty years they were davening. Each one in the merit of the other. For twenty years they were davening. That, if you look at it, you would say that is a holy conception of a child. There, when you look at that conception, you would say, "Wow." Imagine the greatness, the holiness, the spirituality of children that are born from twenty years of tefilos from two kadosh parents. Not only does Rivka's pregnancy go full term, but the conception of the child happens under the banner of kedusha. And yet, what comes from it? Arasha to umim is spelled chaser. However, when it comes to the story of Yehuda and Tamar. Could there be a more misubach story than Yehuda and Tamar? Could there be a more awkward story than Yehuda and Tamar? She's married to Yehuda's two older children, and they died again for whatever reasons we're not getting into right now. Now the halacha pre matan Torah was that yibum could be done with a father-in-law. Post matan Torah, yibum could not be done with a father-in-law.
So it wasn't an avera. The rabban explains it wasn't an avera what Yehuda did. It's a strange story. Yehuda was a tremendous tzaddik. He sees a zayna on the side of the road and he has children with her. That's a crazy story. It turned out in the end that it was all okay, but Yehuda didn't know that. And by the way, when he has to admit that it was actually his children, he says 'sadka mimeni.' Who does he admit that in front of? Everyone. His father, the rest of the Shvatim. This is the future Melech of Klal Yisrael. All of Malchus comes from Yehuda. So how could it be that from this, where the conception is so inappropriate, and the pregnancy is full term, and the children are both Tzadikim, what's going on over here? And then when we look at the birth itself, there's another fascinating difference, and in a certain way, a similarity. Let's look at the story of Yaakov and Esav being born.
In both cases, by Yehuda and Tamar, or I should say by Zerah and Peretz, there's a struggle, and by Yaakov and Esav, there's a struggle. Who will come out first? By the story of Yaakov and Esav, Esav comes out first. And what does Yaakov do? He grabs onto the heel of Esav. And why is he named Yaakov? Because he grabbed onto the heel of Esav. Yaakov's name comes from the struggle that he had with his brother, who should be born first. So very similar. Peretz and Zerah also have a struggle. But the Torah tells us a fascinating thing: Zerah's arm comes out first. Why is the Torah telling us such unbelievable detail here? We need to get into the gory detail. The father stands outside of the delivery room. The Torah has to bring us into the delivery room. It's uncomfortable for us. The Torah tells us first Zerah's arm came out, and the midwife tied a crimson thread around Zerah's arm to note that it was him that actually came out first. But what happens? Zerah pulls his arm out. He's called Zerah, which means shining forth.
Because his arm came out first. And then Peretz is called bursting forth. That's what the word, Ufaratza, means to burst forth, or Peretzah means like a bursting forth. So Peretz bursts forth, pushing Zerah out of the way. And who comes from Peretz? Mashiach Sukeinu. Mashiach comes from Peretz. So it's a fascinating story. Both of them have a struggle. In each case, Asub comes out first, and Yaakov's holding on. Yaakov is named for that struggle. But here Zerah comes out first. The Torah tells us it's important that we know that there was a crimson thread that was tied to Zerah's arm. He pulls back, and Peretz bursts forth. From Peretz comes Mashiach. What's going on over here in the inner nature of these stories? I want to tell you a word from the Labavitcher Rebbe that I think is mamash special word, really special idea. The Medrash tells us that how was the world created? How was the world created? Did the world have a maturation process? Did the world have a maturation process? Meaning, When the world was created, Were there trees, Or were there tiny little saplings that eventually became trees? Were there flowers? So the Medrash tells us that the world was created totally full. Everything in the world was totally full
Meaning when the world was created, it was created with pre-existing trees. What's the significance of this? It's a fascinating medrash. The pasuk says, "Va'yareloz kim es kol asher asa." God looked at everything He had done, Ve'hinei tov maod, And it was very good. The medrash is bothered by this letter vav. Why doesn't it say and it was very good? If it would have just said he ne tov maod, That's referring to Yitzhak Tov. The fact that it said vheine tov maod means it's referring to what the Yitzharo. So what was so good that God created the Yitzharo? Let's take it a step further. If it would have just said 'he ne tov maod,' that would have been referring to what good mazel that a person has in this world. But the fact that it says 'v'hinei tov maod' and God saw that it was very good, it's referring to yisurim. It's referring to suffering that a person encounters in this world. If it would have just said 'hinei tov maod,' it would have been referring to ganed. Then the fact that it says 'v'hinei tov maod' is referring to gan, which refers to gehennom.
And if it would have just said hinei tov maod, it would have been referring to the malach that gives life to everybody. But the fact that it said v'hinei tov maod means it's referring to the Malachamavas. This is a medrash. A medrash like this, you have to really think about because if you look at the pasuk, what does the pasuk say? And God looked at all that He had done, and behold, it was very good. And what does the medrash tell us is very good? The Malachamavas, the Eitzahara, Yisurin, Gehennim. This is very good. This is the opposite of very good. What is the medrash telling us? I want to try tonight to answer a very deep philosophical question: Why are we born? Why are we born? We know that Chazal tell us that the soul does not want to be born. We're created against our will. The Mishnah tells us.
There is something. There is an experience that the soul is missing in Shamayim. That it needs to come into this world to have, and that is as follows: in Shamayim there is no journey. In Shamayim there's no conquest. In Shamayim there's nothing to do. All there is being. There's no transcendence. There's no overcoming. And so now I'm going to give you the first idea for tonight. God created from His perfection. An imperfect world. That is perfect. Again, God is perfect. In His perfection, He created an imperfect world, which is exactly what we needed. The soul has an opportunity in this world to do something it never would have had the opportunity to do had it not come down into this world. Namely, to conquer evil, to overcome itself. To overcome its own narcissism. That's something the soul would not have had the opportunity to do had it not come down into this world.
And so the Medrash is giving us a fascinating insight. And listen carefully now. When a person comes down into this world, What makes this world great? The fact that we have a Yitzhar, The fact that there's suffering, The fact that there's a Malachamaves, The fact that there's Gehennom, And we overcome those things. That's what makes it great. I want to tell you a story. It's not the best story, but it's a good one. In high school, I had a gym teacher. The gym teacher's name was Mr. Weiner. Mr. Weiner was the basketball coach of the team. Mr. Weiner was a fierce competitor like you've never met in your entire life. Do you know some people? They're just this is like their whole life. Basketball is their whole life. Mr. Weiner, I'm not saying his whole life was basketball, but he literally—again, this is not an exaggeration—he literally lost a vocal cord screaming during a game. So when he spoke, by the time I had him
He was already in his eighties. He had a very raspy voice because one of his vocal cords was gone. He was a very intense man about basketball. I want to tell you something else. He was an amazing coach. I would watch him. Sometimes before a play would actually fail, you would see that he would like. He was already shaking his head. He knew it wasn't going to work because of the way that the players were running the floor. Unbelievable genius when it came to basketball. He had rules. He had rules of the way that you played the game. And one of his rules is that if you took a layup, if you were on a fast break, you don't finger roll the ball in because you have a better chance of missing. Use the backward go glass. Mr. Weiner, by the time I had him, and he and I were pretty close.
His son lived right across the street from where I was. By the time I had him, he was already in a walker. He had a walker and he had Parkinson's. His hand would shake. And it was hard for him to get up. He wasn't the most mobile person in the world. But he was our gym teacher, and we loved him. By the way, he was amazing. One time, it certainly happens less now, but one time in gym I stole the ball. I had a fast break and I'm running down the floor. Everyone's chasing me and I decided not to use the backboard but to finger roll it in. So I jump up, put the ball up there and it hits right off the back iron and misses. Next thing I knew, I heard the whistle blow and before I could even turn around, Mr. Weiner was out of his seat and he's walking towards me with his walker and he's shaking his hand.
And he looks at me, and he goes, 'Borg.' And I'll never forget this because my name is not Borg, my name is Berg. But I don't know why he always called me Borg. He goes, 'Borg, that's why you suck.' Now remember I was maybe sixteen or seventeen when this happened. So I made a mistake. I made a bad mistake. If somebody is so upset at you about something, probably the best thing to do is just to be quiet. But if you're 16 years old and somebody says to you that you suck at a game that you love, you're probably going to be dumb enough to answer back. So before I can even catch myself, which is the story of my life, I'm like, it's Jim. I literally thought he was going to have a heart attack. He was in his eighties. It's Jim. Calm down.
Big mistake. That's like poking the bear. He gave me a musser that I'll never forget. He looked at me because I answered back. He looked at me and he said, "You play the game right every time you play the game, or don't bother playing at all." Can you say that again? You play the game right every time you play the game, or you don't bother playing at all. That was his line to me, and then he walked back to his place. I want you to know that Mr. Weiner passed away a number of years ago when I was living in America already. It's got to be thirteen, fourteen, or fifteen years ago. I don't steal the ball very often, and I don't play basketball very often anymore. But if I ever do steal the ball and I ever do go for a layup, I do not have the capacity to finger roll it in. Not because I'm overweight, but because I'm afraid that Mr. Wiener won't laugh at that. That's not nice.
See Now you don't know what to do. That's my favorite joke. It happened one time. You should know it happened one time in LL that my bag was overweight, and the woman said, "I'm sorry, you're overweight." I said, "Excuse me." So she's like, you know how when they try to walk away. I didn't mean it. Of course you didn't. She put that bag through so fast. And in L. L. That's like the greatest sin you could do is if you're two pounds overweight on that bag. The whole plane is going down. They'll land in Greece on an Arab Shabbos and take her by pitchforks. Every once in a while. I kind of wish I was on that plane. Rabbi Fix has such good stories now. He told it over in Shul. You should know I was crying. Even this Friday night, I was like, "I so wish that I was on that plane to see Klal Yisrael coming together like that. It was so special.
It takes our greatest enemies to bring us together. El Al, the would never happen on Delta. I can't take it. I can't finger roll the ball in because I'm afraid Mr. Weena will come down as some sort of demon shade and attack me. It's an amazing gift that he gave me that day. He taught me what it means to be a rebbe. The conquest, playing the game right. That's what makes it great. The fact that you could make that mistake, and the fact that you don't do that anymore. That's what makes the game of life great. There's an amazing story with Roshalom Shvadran. Have you girls ever heard of Roshalom Shvadran? He was the Maggid of Yerushalayim. He was a tremendous tzaddik. He had a kollel at night for kids that were like, Gvoli, not so on the derech. And one of these kids stopped showing up to the kollel.
It was like a kid would come learn with coal guys at night. He stopped showing up to the coal. Rishon went to his house. He knocks on his door. He goes, "You've been missing. We've been missing you." So the kid says, "Okay." I wasn't up to that point in the story yet, but sure. So he says, "You know, we've been missing you." So the kid says, "I'm so sorry. I'm coming back next week, but." It's the soccer championship this week. It's like the playoffs and the championship. So I've been at home at night watching the game. And Oshalom looks at him and he goes, "What soccer?" So he goes, "Rebbe doesn't know what soccer." He goes, "No, what soccer?" He says, "Well, it's this game where you kick like a ball into a hole." And that's like fun. He goes, "Yeah, no, that's amazing." So Oshalom said, "Okay, let's go right now. Let's go and we'll kick balls into goals." The kid says, "No, Rebbe, you don't understand." Usually there's like a goalie that's trying to block you from getting the ball into the goal. So Rishon says, "Okay, but is the goalie there right now?"
So he goes, "No, the goalie's not there now. It's like ten o'clock at night." He goes, "Good. So let's go quick." You don't understand. There's like a whole thing. There's like a team. There's people on your team. There's people on their team. Everybody's trying to get the ball into their goal, into the opposing team's goal. So Rishon's like, he goes. I understand. Is the team there right now? He goes Rebbe. The team is not there right now. So wouldn't this be a great time to kick the ball into the goal? He goes, Rebbe, there's a time frame that you have. You can only do it. It's only fun in that time frame when everybody's there, and then you're going against the opposing team to get it in. So Shalom looks at him. He goes, exactly. A person has a certain amount of time in this world. And there are opposing forces, and we're all trying to get the ball across the goal. To do it when it's easy is not very impressive. What makes it great
Is that there's an obstacle. What makes it awesome is the fact that you might not succeed. So what's tov ma'od? The Medrash says, what's tov ma'od is there's Gehennom, there's suffering, there's death, there's so many things that are in our way. There's a yetsar haro. But the fact that we overcame is what makes it great. The soul doesn't have that in Shamayim. So many people ask the question, "Why didn't God just create Olam Haba?" Just create Olam Haba. What do we need to go through this whole thing of Olam Hazeh in an unrectified world? And then do mitzvos to rectify the world to create Olam Haba? Just create Olam Haba. But that's like saying, 'Create truth.' God doesn't want to create truth. What He wants to create is a question, and we will be the answer to that question. That's why. The word tshuva doesn't mean to repent, and it doesn't even really mean to return. What does the word tshuva really mean? Tshuva means answer. What's the question that we're answering when we do tshuva?
The question is, can we find God in the lowest aspect of our life when we didn't do the right thing? What makes this world great? The fact that you can mess up. Marriage is not impressive if you can't get divorced. Divorce is what makes marriage great. The fact that you can be so upset at somebody. The fact that they could have hurt you so badly. And you say, "But I'm staying loyal to you," unless the marriage has become abusive or immoral. But if short of that, we stay in it. Why? Because the obstacle is what makes it great. When you look at a couple after thirty, forty, fifty years, it's not the fact that they always had everything going right and that's why their marriage was amazing. I'm sure it wasn't that way. It's because when you look at them through all of life and they've stayed together. They felt like this was it. I want to tell you a story, two stories actually. One with my rabbi, and one with Rav Natan Sfiv. I'll tell you the one with Rav Natan Sfiv first.
I heard sheer once from a Rosh Yeshiva who told me that he went to Rav Natan Sfiv's house. He went to Rav Natan Sfiv's house, and in Rav Natan Sfiv's house, he was waiting there. There was a line of people waiting to ask Rav Nosson Svi a question, and he was the very last person before Rav Nosson Svi had to go to the mire. So he lost out. Rav Nosson Svi, for him to go from his home to the mire, especially when he had Parkinson's, was very, very difficult for him. So they told this Rosh Yeshiva. Wait here. You'll be the first person on line when the Rosh Yeshiva comes back. So Rav Nosson Svi goes. And he's out for like an hour and a half giving shir. He comes home and there's this rashiwa waiting for him. He told me it was the most uncomfortable moment of his entire life. Why? Because when he walked in, Rabitzin Finkel went to greet him. And he saw the way that Rabitzin Finkel greeted her husband. The rashiwa Mir of Nusinsviv Finkel
And he said the ahava, the love that was between them. Was so apparent. It was so thick. It was so rich. It was so alive, that he felt like he was intruding in their home. He felt like he shouldn't be here, and they had only been gone for an hour and a half. And this was his tish. He said, "If your husband is the Rosh Yeshiva of Mir, and he holds himself with dignity even through Parkinson's, and he gives shiurim, and he's marbitz Torah, and he's the gadol ador." What's the feeling that you have when you go through that with someone on that journey Where your husband is being pulled in a million directions, and you have to take care of him with his Parkinson's and everything? The feeling, of course, is we are in this together. And he was so uncomfortable. He said, "I felt like I was in the room with the shirina." And he said, "I wanted to run out of there as fast as I could."
And I myself had a similar story. I was once in my rebbe's kitchen. My rebbe, Kenai Nahara, is ninety years old. Is a gadol in every sense of the word And he and his wife have a very special relationship. It's very clear that they have a very special relationship. I was sitting in their kitchen once, and most people didn't get to do that. You should know, most people didn't get to sit in my rabbi's kitchen. I was very lucky; I had a very close relationship with him. And on his refrigerator, he had pictures. Now you're talking. This story happened. Fifteen years ago, sixteen years ago, it's a long time. He had pictures of family weddings. Now I don't know if you know the math of families. If you have eight children who all have eight children who all have eight children, so at some point every day there's a bris. It's like you don't get through a month without having another great grandchild and another great grandchild. At the time, and this was sixteen years ago.
I don't even think I was married yet. It must have been even before that. I was sitting there and I looked at the kitchen and the fridge. There was this fish lens picture of his family at a wedding. I commented, I said, Rebbe, it looks more like a tribe than a family, like there were so many people there. He said something like, "Yeah, Baruch Hashem." Something like that. His wife looked at him and she said, "And all from a couple of kids who had no idea what they were doing." Then they looked at each other and they shared this look that could not have been more than a second or two. But I felt like it was ten minutes. It was so uncomfortable. He's my rebbe, a gadol b'torah in every sense of the word. They were sharing this intimate look with each other, and all from a couple of kids, because that's what they were. At some point, they were in their twenties, just a couple of kids who didn't know what they were doing. And then at that point, they were in their late seventies, early eighties, and they were just looking back on the last fifty, sixty years of their life, and just going. We made it, and it wasn't a pshat that it was always easy. You should know that my rebbe didn't have milk to serve his children.
He used to mix powdered milk with regular milk to make it last longer because he was in Chinuch. They didn't have money. But the feeling that I had watching that was like, they've been on a journey together. They were on a quest. This is the answer to that question. We wouldn't want to be born in a world of truth. It wouldn't be exciting. It wouldn't be great. The lowest points in your life, the points where you want to give up, the points where you feel like I can't do this anymore, that's what makes life awesome. If you stick through that, it's amazing. If you drop out because the going got tough, then you're going to miss the greatest part. It's always darkest before dawn. So let's go back and look at these two pregnancies. And now hopefully we'll see something again. Rivka's pregnancy is full term, fully developed, like the world. You see why it's full term? Fully developed, like the world. And the conception is so holy, two Jews, tzaddikim and a tzaddik and a tzaddikas. And what are they doing? They're davening. They're davening that each one of them should get some. Each one of them should get something. They should be zayich to have a child. So it's complete. But what comes from perfection? Imperfection. So what's born?
Esav is born. Teumim is spelled without the vav. Why? Because there's something chasser here. From perfection comes something imperfect. From a perfect God comes an imperfect world. From two holy parents often come an imperfect child. And what does Esav represent? Esav represents the capacity to transcend his evil nature. That's why already in the womb, what was Esav doing? He was already fighting to come out. He wanted to be by that base of Yitzhak. Why did Yitzchak love Esav so much? Because he saw in him the opportunity to transcend the evil nature that he had. That's the greatest gift when imperfection reveals its inner perfection. Unfortunately, Esav didn't do it. But the struggle in the birth itself is very important because what was Yaakov trying to say to Esav? Yaakov was trying to say to Esav, 'You have so much capacity for godliness. All you need to do is allow godliness to come first in your life.'
So why is Yaakov struggling his whole life? What's Yaakov struggling to do? To be first. He's pulling at Esau. Here, let me come out first as soon as he has the opportunity. What does he do? He buys the b'chayra. He gets the bracha. Yaakov, in every sense of the world, takes in every sense of the word. He takes Esau's spots. That's why he married Leah. Because who was supposed to marry Leah? Esau was supposed to marry Leah. But when Yaakov put on Esau's clothing, the Kachnitzer Maggid says he became Esau. Yaakov wanted to go first, not because he wanted to be first out of the womb. Yaakov wanted to be first because he was trying to teach Esav something. The world will reveal its inner godliness when it allows God to come first. The world is an exceptionally narcissistic place. The world only wants what it wants, and it doesn't care about anyone else. Survival of the fittest. But Yaakov is teaching Esav the world, and he's saying, "Let me come first." Tamar's pregnancy is exactly the opposite.
It is so imperfect. Is there any more imperfect conception than Tamar's pregnancy? She has to trick Yehuda on the side of the road by dressing up like a zina. It got to the point where Yehuda asked her for misa. This is a terrible pregnancy. It was not a full term pregnancy. Couldn't be a full term pregnancy. It's so imperfect. And yet, what comes from imperfection? Perfection comes from imperfection. Completion comes from imperfection. So if you look at the story, this is the way you have to read it. The story starts with Yaakov and Esav. But when does it actually continue? Through another parallel story, The story of Parit and Zerah, and with this we can start to understand how the world transforms into a godly place. Girls, what color thread was put on Zerah's hand? And what color is Esav? So really, Zerah. Is the rebirth? It's the story happening again, but this time Zerach comes out. He shines forth, but what does he do? He pulls back. The greatness of Zerach is that the imperfect desire to be first was pulled back. And what comes out first now? Peretz comes bursting forth. And what comes from Peretz? Mashiach. Two tzaddikim. If Zerach was a tzaddik, how could he be the same as Esav? What's the answer? Esav could have been a tzaddik too.
All Esav needs to do, if he wants to be a tzaddik, is to overcome his nature. So Zerah and Esav are the same. That's why he has a crimson thread tied to his wrist. But this time Zerah pulls back, even though he shines forth, he pulls back to allow Peretz to come first. I want to finish by sharing with you an amazing medrash. The pasuk says, 'Eile toldos hashamayim v'ha'aretz behi baram.' These are the taldos. These are the offspring of Shamayim and Aretz when they were created. The medrash points out that every single place in the Torah, the word taldos is spelled deficiently, except for two places, here, and in Rus, when it said, 'These are the taldos of Peretz,' and that's where Mashiach comes from. Every single place in the word 'told' in the text is a fragment or ends with a function word, so it has been removed. Every sentence must be checked for clarity and flow.
Toldos is spelled deficiently, except for two places: the creation of the world, and the toldos of parents, the offspring of parents. Why? Because Mashiach comes to rectify the world. Originally, the world is created toldos; its offspring are perfect. But then, what happens? Other marishon sins. Now it's the imperfection that comes from perfection. What does Mashiach do? Mashiach brings us back to our ultimate state of completion. I want to tell you something. I'm getting a lot of phone calls. I don't know what message Hashem is trying to send me. The last two weeks I'm getting the following phone call, and it's happening from everywhere. I'm getting it from Talmidot and I'm getting it from Talmidim. It's getting too tough. I think I want to drop out. I just can't take it anymore. I'm talking about scenarios that are hard. When you hear these scenarios, you're just like, "Oof!" I don't know how people survive these things. The last two weeks have been really rough. I find myself on the phone with these people and just like, "How are they doing it?" They're like, "I don't want to drop out, but I can't. But I do." They're just so.
The message that I'm trying to give them is this: when you test the loyalty of your relationship. You want to know if your relationship with Hashem is authentic. How's it going when you're in pain? And I'm talking about devastating levels of pain. I'm not talking about uncomfortable, somebody said something that I don't like. You want to know who you really are? Test your loyalty. Since I'm not going to be here for Chanukah, I want to tie this into Chanukah so that we can share these last moments of Kislev together. If you think about the entire story of Chanukah, isn't that what it's really about? How many Jews were Hellenized? How many Jews had gone off the derech? But what do they find? That pach shemen. What's the pach shemen? It's the perfection in us that can never be extinguished. What comes from the imperfection? Comes an entire yontif of Chanukah. And from that place, what do we find? That as imperfect as this world is, you can never extinguish the spark.
I told this story last year, so for some of you it'll be a repetition. For those of you that are here for the first time, I think it's a very special story. I have an uncle. He didn't grow up observant. My father is about tshuva. This is my father's sister's husband. They came to Israel because they had never been to Israel before. They retired and they came to Israel. My father said to them, "How could you not come to Israel? You're Jews. How could you not come to Israel?" So they came to Israel and they went on the least Jewish tour you could possibly go on. They went to Jordan and they saw everything. They didn't take them to the Kotel. How do you not go to the Kotel? Don't go to the Kotel. How much is there to do already that you don't go to the Kotel?
How much desert can you see in the negative? So my father said to them, 'You have to extend your trip and you have to let me take you around and show you the Jewish version of Israel.' So they extended their trip. And on one of the last days of their trip, they went to the kotel, and my father is walking down the stairs with my uncle Al. And he sees that my uncle is starting to get really emotional, deeply emotional. They're getting closer and closer to the kotel, and he just tears are pouring down his face. This is a man who doesn't keep Shabbos, a man who doesn't keep kosher, but he's really Jewish. And by the time he gets to the kotel, He's just bawling. And he's sitting there, and he's sobbing, And he's sobbing, and he's sobbing. And some Chabad guy comes over to him. Would it be a good story if there wasn't a Chabad guy that came over to him? And says to him, "Would you like to put on tefillin?" And he says, "Yes, I would love to put on tefillin." And he put on tefillin by the kotel. And he said to my father right there, "I want to buy tefillin." And they went that day and bought tefillin. Now I don't know if Al's ever put tefillin on again after that. I don't know.
But I know this. It doesn't matter how far removed we are. It doesn't matter how much we've messed up or how imperfect we feel. You can never extinguish the spark of a Jew. That pachshamen is intact. Really deeply intact. So of course. Sometimes the more imperfect you are, the farther you are. Sometimes when you get to that moment, it clarifies who you really are. I don't care if Al ever puts on tefillin again. In that moment, we found out who he really was. We should be zeichet to do the same.
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