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It's a tremendous chos to be back here at BMB. I think it says a tremendous thing about Klal Yisrael that at 10 o'clock at night On a Thursday night, when there are so many other places that a girl could be To choose to spend a Thursday night learning Torah, getting together Especially with the current matziv that we're in With the hatraot and the azakot. Everything that's going on in Klal Yisrael right now, the decision to spend your Thursday night here It says a lot of very good things about Klal Yisrael. It also mentions that the neighborhood has many good things about our neighborhood Befrat. I want to share with you tonight an idea that's To me personally, it's very important and very meaningful. I hope it'll be meaningful to you as well. Every detail in the Torah, every single detail, even those things that are They hold a tremendous amount of very profound wisdom.
Part of the challenge, especially at your age, of learning Torah is if you don't learn Torah deeply. Then it doesn't necessarily mean anything to you. It doesn't necessarily have a message that's relevant in your life. Chaval, because every word of the Torah is relevant to every single person in every single moment of their lives. So I want tonight just to spend a couple of minutes. Sharing with you an idea that appears at first glance to be very technical. At first glance, it appears like it's just another random detail in the Torah, but you'll see it has a tremendous amount of relevance to our lives. The halacha brought in this week's parsha is an ani who brings a karban—that's a bird. So the halacha is v'shisah oso they split open, beknafav with its wings intact, lo yavdil. You don't snap the entire bird in half. You only break the back and you split it into two parts, but I need to make sure that the content is accurate and clear. It seems to be a very technical halacha. It doesn't seem to have any relevance to our lives, but I want to share with you. It's very relevant to our lives.
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So first, let's look at a couple of Rashi's. The first Rashi says as follows: B'knafav. What does it mean with its wings? Rashi says, No'za mamish. Here we're referring to the bird that's being brought, that's being burned on the mizbeach. The feathers of the wings are not plucked out of the bird. The feathers of the wings stay on the bird, and it's burnt with the feathers. Rashi says an unbelievable thing. Rashi says there is no person. Rashi says there's no one in the world. That would smell such a terrible smell, and it wouldn't make them terribly nauseous. You can imagine at the base of Mikdash, there's an ani. He can't afford to bring a carbon, like a big carbon. He can't afford to bring a carbon ola. He can't afford to bring a shor. What does he bring? He brings a bird. He brings a bird. They want the bird to have a little bit more fullness. It's already a very small carbon that he's bringing. So the Torah tells us, leave the wings on. But Rashi says, if you burn the wings on the mizbeach, it smells very bad. Mamish smells very bad, and Rashi says, nevertheless, why do we do it? Why do we bring such a mizbeach if it has such a terrible smell? So Rashi says, because the mizbeach wants to eat. The mizbeach wants to feel. It wants to feel satisfied.
Satiated And so it's a hider. It's an adornment. It's a beautiful thing for the carbon of an ani to come. A bird, even though it smells so terrible, we want that ani to feel good, so we bring that carbon. That's the first Rashi. Then there's a second Rashi, also a very interesting Rashi. Lo yavdil. What does it mean? Shisa oso lo yavdil. You split it, but you don't break it all the way. So Rashi says, 'Einu m'far'ka legamrei l'shtei chatichos.' Don't snap the bird in half. Don't break it into two pieces. Ella, rather, what you should do, carbonigabo. You break its back, so you split it open. Rashi says, and then Rashi says an unbelievable thing. We just got done saying that this carbon smells terrible But yet Rashi says it's a reach nichoach l'Hashem. Nemar ba'of reach nichoach v'nemar ba'beheima reach nichoach. We see that whether it's a carbonola, whether you're bringing a shor, a big behema. To be a carbon, or whether you're bringing a small bird that smells terrible because you're burning the feathers, it's considered to Hashem a re'ach nishoach. What does this mean? Lomar l'chad. This comes to teach you: echad ha-marba ve-echad ha-mamet u-bolvad she-ichaven li-bal hashamayim.
It doesn't matter if you bring a big carbon. It doesn't matter if you bring a small carbon. The only thing that matters is your kavana. The only thing that matters is your intention. Where did Rashi get this from? Where did Rashi get the idea that it smells so bad that the carbon smells so bad, but it's a re'ach nihachta Hashem? It's a medrash. But Rashi only quotes you the first couple lines of the medrash. I want to share with you the rest of the medrash. The medrash is so powerful, so profound. The medrash says as follows. Medrash tells three stories. There was a melech who was Melech Agrippas. Melech Agrippas was the last of the Roman emperors in Judea. He was considered a very righteous person. And he came to the kohen gadol. The medrash says he came to the kohen gadol and he said, 'I want to bring one thousand oaks to the mizbeach today.' So the kohen gadol, obviously, if the melech asks for a specific answer, but the kohen is not in the beis hamikdash. So the kohen gadol shuts down the beis hamikdash, and they're bringing five hundred, six hundred, seven hundred, eight hundred, nine hundred, and so on, to Hakadosh Baruch Hu on the mizbeach, and an ani, a poor person, shows up at the door.
"I have these two turim, I have these two turtle doves that I want to be makreiv, these two small birds I want to bring." The kohen gadol says, "What do you want me to do? What do you want me to do?" The melech said that today it's his exclusively; nobody else is allowed to bring a karbon. It's a thousand olas for Agripas today. So the ani turns to the kohen gadol, and the ani says, "Listen I have very little in my life. What do I survive on every single day? I go and I catch four turim, four turtle doves. I eat two of them, and I bring two of them to Hakadosh Baruch Hu, and I makarv them on the mizbeach and the beis hamikdash. You're not allowed to take away from me my parnasa." The Cohen Gadol says,"You're right. I'm not allowed to take away from you your Parnasa." And the Cohen Gadol is makriv the two turim that the Ani brought.
And Agripas has a dream, and in that dream he's told, it doesn't say by Hakadosh Baruch Hu or Bas Kol, it just sounds like he understood from the dream,"Karbono shall Ani k'damach. That's not a problem. The key is that even though you were bringing a thousand olos and you said nobody else should bring any karkanos that day, the Ani's carbon came before yours. And Agrippas wakes up and he says, 'What happened?' He runs to the Cohen Gadol and he says, 'I thought we had a deal. I was going to bring a thousand olos, and I was going to be the only one that brought to the Beit Hamikdash that day.' The Cohen Gadol said, 'What did you want me to do?' This Ani came and he said, 'I'm taking away my parnasa from him.' So Agrippa said, 'You're right. You did the right thing.' And his korban is taka; it comes before mine. It's more chashuv in a certain way than mine.
The Medrash then tells a second story. Girls, you have to understand. When we learn Medrash, every word of Medrash is precious. Every word of Medrash tells us something so deep. If a Medrash has three stories together, it means that every story, even though it seems like it's three totally separate stories, the Medrash is telling us something about the way that we're meant to serve Hashem. The second story, also a very interesting story, is there was a man who wants to bring a shor, a big fat shor, to be makriv on the mizbeach. In the Beis Hamikdash, and he's trying to schlepp his shor to the mizbeach, and the shor refuses to move. Now I know today we don't deal so much with bringing animals. We're not schlepping animals. One time in yeshiva, many years ago, they decided to teach the boys about shchita. And they brought a lamb to be shechted in the yeshiva.
So the yeshiva divided up. I'm sure it's the same in this room. Probably more girls would not participate in the yeshiva. There were always those boys that are like, there's no way I'm participating. I'm staying in the dorms. I'm staying in the bais medrash. I don't want to see them shechta a lamb in the middle of the chutzner in mevaseret. But there's those boys that are like, they get a geshmack from it. These boys are your future husbands. These guys were like, yeah, I want to see it. The whole group of boys crowds around and they're bringing this little lamb to be shechted in the chutzer of mevaseret. I've never seen a lamb fight for its life before because it knew it was going to die, and it was like literally fighting. I felt so badly for the thing. And then they brought it, and I remember there was this swarthy, beautiful swarthy, small little shoychit, and he took the legs and he flipped it upside down and he quickly tied the legs together, and he was like an 80 year old man. And then he just looks at the entire chaver, the guys in the bavser, and he goes like this
And the whole place bursts out laughing. Everyone starts clapping. And then they killed it. That's not the good part. It was delicious afterwards, but that wasn't the good part. So here you have a shark. You imagine how much it took to schlep. A shepsula, a little lamb, to schlep a shepsula, and the shepsula is fighting because it knows it's going to die. Here there was a shor, and the meder says that the balabas, the owner of this shor, is fighting with the shor like crazy, and the shor refuses to move. He wants to be nekrovit on the mizbeach and the base of mikdash, and the shor refuses to move. And the ani comes along, a different ani than the first story, and what does he do? He takes lettuce and feeds it to the shor. He feeds the lettuce to the shor. I guess a shor. I didn't know this. I guess a shor naturally eats grass. It's not supposed to eat lettuce. And the shor ends up. It ends up like throwing up a little bit. And when it throws up, it threw up a needle.
And once it threw up the needle, then all of a sudden the shor starts to walk naturally to the bais hamikdash, and it goes and walks naturally, and it goes to become a karbon. And this balabas, the owner of the char, the medrash says, has a dream, just like in the first story with Melchagripus. This, the owner of this char, has a dream, and what does it say in the dream? The ani's carbon came before yours. Now this is especially weird because in this story, I understand in the first story that the ani brought a carbon. In this story, the ani doesn't even bring a carbun. All the ani did was give lettuce to the shor so that the shor would throw up the needle, and then the shor naturally goes. Obviously, all these things, these details of the story, make a big difference. We're going to explore them in a minute. But it's a very weird story because here the ani doesn't even bring a carbun. What does the ani do? He just feeds lettuce to the shor, and yet the balabas understands the ani's carbun comes first. One last story, the medrash says.
There was a woman who brought a carbon mincha to the Beis Hamikdash. A carbon mincha is a very cheap carbon. What is it already? It's flour. It's oil. It's not that chashav a carbon. And the kohen who was there bring the carbon, he started to disparage her. He started to say to her, 'What are you doing? You're not bringing a chashav a carbon.' And again, he also had a dream and listened to what he was told in the dream. Don't make fun of a woman who brings a carbon mincha. Don't make fun of a woman who brings a carbon mincha. Why not? Because the pasuk says ki'ilu nafshe hikriva. Says the nefesh kitakriv carbon mincha Hashem. It's that she ki'ilu she brought her own nefesh. And the and the medrash makes a kal vachomer. If it's like you brought your own nefesh when you bring something small like a carbon mincha, certainly if you actually bring an animal that's alive, it's like you brought your own nefesh. Those are the three stories the medrash says. Number one, Melachagripas, that this ani brought two turim, two turtle doves,
And it was like his carbon came first. Number two, he gave the shor some lettuce; it threw up the needle, and his carbon came first, even though he didn't bring a carbon. And number three, that there's this Cohen who, for some reason, is making fun of this woman who brought a carbon mincha, and he says, "You should know It's very chashuv to bring a carbon mincha. It's like she brought herself. What's the inner message here? I want to share with you something that I think is happening at every age and at every stage. I'm not speaking just to high school girls now. The truth is, it's for adults also, and it's for little kids too. But I want to speak for a moment. I want to say a real thing. I want to try to share something with you that's real, that's personal. I imagine that a lot of you are going through in your life, so we'll try to have a real conversation for a couple of moments.
The question here that I want to address is How do we serve Hashem? After we've done something that we're really not proud of How do we serve Hashem when we've already crossed the line that we promised ourselves we wouldn't cross? You remember in eighth grade when you made yourself a promise: "Before I go to high school, I'm not going to cross this line. I'm never going to do this." At some point, everybody—there's a couple of knowing smirks in the audience right now. It's nice to see that there are some human beings in here, people that are actually alive. At some point, everybody in their life does something that they're not proud of. Everybody has the time when they do it. For a lot of people, it's the summer after tenth grade. It's like that transitional stage. Like I used to be one person, and now I've done something that I've never done before. And there's a feeling that we have. There's a certain sense, if we're being honest, a little bit we feel like an onion.
We feel a little bit impoverished. We feel a little bit like I'm not really like I used to be wealthy. What does wealthy mean? It doesn't mean wealthy in money. Wealthy doesn't mean in money. Entire wealthy doesn't mean money. Plenty of people have money. You should know they're very poor, and plenty of people who don't have money are very rich. Wealthy and poor don't necessarily mean in money. There's a feeling that we have after we've done the wrong thing. There's a sense of like, what do I have now in my life? What am I bringing to the Rebbeinu Shalom? How can I serve Hakadosh Baruch Hu? A Talmud who once said to me, "He goes, you should know, Rebbe. It's not that it's hard to me. It's not hard to wake up for Shachris. I could wake up for shachers." I could wake up at 5:30 in the morning if I wanted to. The problem is, I know what I was doing last night.
I know what I was doing last night. How could I daven to Hakadosh Baruch Hu if I know what I was doing last night? How could I do what I did last night and then wake up and put on tefillin and daven to the Rebbeinu Shlom? It's not because I'm lazy. It's not because I sleep in. It's because who am I to come to the Rebbeinu Shlom? I feel like he didn't use these words, but this is what he meant. He feels like an ani. A little bit, he feels like I don't have enough here. I'm not like you know how like an usher walks. If somebody's a wealthy person, again, I don't mean wealthy in money. If somebody's an usher, if somebody's a wealthy person When they walk into a room, they walk in with a sense of confidence.
They walk in with a sense of hinei. There's a presence. I'm here. I'm alive. They're not embarrassed to be wherever they are. There's a certain sense that we all have. Everybody in this room, including myself, I'm no different or better than anybody here. Everybody in this room, on some level, does things that we're not proud of. And then when we do them, again, we're speaking real things here. BMB is a place where we have real conversations. Am I wrong? We have real conversations here. We don't. We're not trying to be something that we're not in this neighborhood. We're very real. We want to raise real girls. Real girls are going to be great mothers. People who are real people, people who struggle, people who work on themselves, those are great mothers. So we're not trying to pretend that everything is perfect. People make mistakes. Other people, we should be able to create environments where people are allowed to talk more about their mistakes. Then we could actually work on things, as opposed to trying to hide everything. Sometimes we feel like there's a need, like I have to hide who I am. That's ani. An ani has to hide who he is. An ani can't walk into a room with a sense of dignity. An ani can't come to a kodesh baruch hu after they did that avera.
"Here I am, Rebbe Nachum. I'm going to say tehillim." And there's a sense, if we're being honest, there's a little bit of a sense, maybe Maybe this is extreme, but maybe not. There's a little bit of a sense of really. And like Rebbe Nachum, you want me now, even after I just did that. I'm still worthy of being in this relationship. If a siren goes off and we're hearing those booms, really I'm gonna say Tehillim. I know where I was. You know where I was. You know what I've done. You know which rules I've broken. Which things. I'm gonna say Tehillim now. Even if there's Azakot. Even if there's Hatroot. I'm gonna say Tehillim now. There's a certain sense of Yiyush in the relationship, like I'm ani, I'm ani, I'm not a person who's worthy of being in this place anymore. The question is What do you do after that?
What do you do after that? What's next? So a lot of times we think the ani, it's over for him, it's over. The tzaddik, the person who's like, who Rav Chaim Kaniewski sat and learned Torah all day long. That's unbelievable. Rav Itzhak Mayer Morganstein. He's an unbelievable tzaddik. Just to talk to the Ribono Shel Olam—that's for big tzaddikim. But for me, it's not for me to talk to the Ribono Shel Olam. It's not for me to have a beautiful Shabbos. It's not for me to really be on fire in my yedeshkeit. Comes along the medrash, and the medrash tells us three things. It's a tahalich. It's a way of recovering when you feel like ani. Not just recovering, but the fact that you feel like ani in some ways is better.
The best thing in the world is to be a bal tshuva. We made it a thing. We made it a thing to be a bal tshuva. That if you grow up in a reformed family or a conservative family or an unaffiliated family, and now you live in the Orthodox world, then you're a bal tshuva. It's not true. They don't get to take that title from us. Every one of us is meant to be a bal tshuva. Every one of us is meant in our lives to constantly be doing tshuva. To be ani is not a bad thing. To be ani is to learn something about the way this world works that a tzaddik doesn't understand. That's why we stand. If we're a bal tshuva, we stand in a place that's higher than a tzaddik. What does an ani know that a tzaddik doesn't know? Let's look at the first story. What does Melech Agrippas come and say? Melech Agrippas comes and says I'm a very righteous person.
And the rebunisholim is massive." I want to bring a carbon that's fitting for a king. A carbon that's fitting for a king is not one shor. A carbon that's fitting for a king is one thousand olos. And what does Melech Agrippa say? Melech Agrippa says it's not just that it's going to be a lot. The entire day belongs to me. He comes to the Kohen Gadol and he says,"There's no space for any imperfection today. The Melech is coming to serve Hashem." So wipe out everybody else Move everybody else out. There's no room for any other carbonos because every other carbon compared to mine is going to be a nothing. If you're not bringing the most, if you're not bringing the best, if you're not the Melech, every other carbon is a nothing. They cleared out the Beis Hamikdash and Melech Agri Bas came. He was bringing a thousand olos. You can imagine how expensive that was.
He's bringing a thousand olos. And now watch this. Who comes into the Beis Hamikdash? An ani. What does it mean? An ani. Somebody who fell so distant. Is this we're holding by hatroah? Is this a new sound for the hatroah? I happen to like music very much. I think it's wonderful when ringers go off. But I am sensitive to the trauma of teaching a class and having 50 girls have their sirens go off at once. So this sounds like maybe there's an. I would like that. Is there a new way to get a sound for the siren? That'd be good. It's a school thing. We should tell them not to be sending WhatsApps. It's against the Takanon. But wouldn't that be great if there could be like thank you Hashem music telling you that maybe a missile is coming? That could be like the most beautiful thing in the world.
You could have Chaim Guri singing Yidden instead of having the trauma of that. How many of you have trauma? It's okay to raise your hand. It's a safe space. How many have trauma from that sound? I really thought I was going to sleep and now I'm not going to sleep. How many of us are living with children and grandchildren in the house, and everybody's sleeping and awake, and it's and nobody's good, nobody's normal anymore. You girls remember that it's not normal to live this way? Just want to make sure everybody knows. Listen, I understand if it's my own niece, her phone is going off, and especially if it's Shaina. Then it's Michael, 100%. Tell Shaina not to call in the middle of Shire. That's my niece. So Agrippas comes and he says it's not a zman for anyone. Okay, listen to what this ani does, and only an ani can do this.
This ani comes and he says, "Listen, my life is very divided." My life is very divided. I catch I'm very poor. I catch four turim every single day And half of my life is l'shem shamayim, and half of my life is not. This is what the Ani is describing. He's coming to the Kohen Gadol and he's saying, half of my life is for the Rebbeinu Shalom and half of my life is not for the Rebbeinu Shalom. If you don't let me come to the, if you don't let me come to the Beis Hamikdash, if you don't let me bring a korban to Hakadosh Baruch Hu, you're taking away my life. You're taking away my parnasa. Parnasa here again, it doesn't mean money. It means you're taking away the thing that gives me my livelihood, that gives me my sustenance. That tells me I'm. How do you have the right? Listen to the in a certain way. It's a chutzpa that the ani is speaking to the kohen gadol in such a way. Kohen gadol is a very big tzaddik, and he has an instruction from the melech, and the melech is a righteous melech, and he's saying today is only a day for perfection. Comes along the ani, and he says, Who are you to tell me that I can't serve Hashem, even if I'm imperfect, even if half of my life is for me and only half of my life is for Hashem?
Who are you to take away the half that's for Hashem? Who are you to take that away? It's not right. And the Cohen Gadol hears his argument and listens that in the dream even Agrippas knows that he's right in the dream. What does Hakadosh Baruch Hu communicate to Agrippas? You should know that your perfection, your thousand olos, his small little carbon, it came first. His small little carbon came first. He thinks how could it be that his thousand olos were preceded by somebody else, a small little carbon. And when the Cohen Gadol explains it to him, you think the only way to serve Hakadosh Baruch Hu is to come with so much beauty and so much perfection. You should know something comes even before that: the beauty of imperfection. For yidden like ourselves that are struggling, that we're not always saying the right thing or doing the right thing, for yidden like ourselves that are struggling, you should know that our responsibility is to come to the Beis Hamikdash.
Not just again today we don't have the Beis Hamikdash physically, but we have the concept of the Beis Hamikdash. It's our responsibility to come to the Beis Hamikdash and to say, yes, Rebbeinu Shalom, I'm imperfect, but you are still my life. Fundamentally, Rebbeinu Shalom, I'm with you. That's step one. If you're an ani, then you know. If you feel distant, then you know I'm not letting go of any thread. This ani says, I have a thread. I'm still connected to the Rebbeinu Shalom in some way. Don't take that away from the ani. That's the first message of the mess of the medrash. There's a second medrash, second story in the medrash, also a very powerful story. There's a balabas. He's bringing a shark. He's bringing a big animal. This is an expensive karban, and he's bringing it to the base of Megiddo. But the animal doesn't want to go, and what does he try to do? He's—I imagine the Medrash doesn't describe it like this, but if you're trying to schlepp a shark to the base of Mikdash, I imagine it's not as easy as just pulling it by its muzzle. I imagine that the process would be quite challenging. I imagine that he was taking a stick and he was hitting it and screaming at it and scaring it and doing everything he could to make the shark move forward, and nothing was working.
The ani comes along and says, "I know the answer. I know the answer." He feeds the shark lettuce. And then it spits up a needle. Why wasn't the shar moving? The secret of this world is that every one of us wants to be close to Hashem. There's not one girl in this room right now. Even those girls that are not in this room right now, that are perhaps doing other things on Thursday night, they're not here at Mishmar. There are those girls that feel like I have no interest in serving Hakadosh Baruch Hu. It's not true. There's never been a Jew in the history of the world that wasn't dying to come close to the Rebbe Nisim. Every one of us wants to come close to the Rebbe Nisim. That's what we see. We see that even the biggest sinners in Klal Yisrael, when push comes to shove, they're willing to die al Kiddush Hashem. The Balatanya writes. What does that mean? It means that naturally every single Jew wants to come close to Hashem. So why aren't we running to the mizbeach? Because we're like that animal.
Why are we not drawing close to the bnei shalom? Why are we fighting? Look what happens. There are people that they see us not moving close to our kadosh baruch hu, and what's their response? The response is to hit you. The response is to yell at you. The response is to try to scare you. Maybe if I scare this girl enough, then maybe she'll start to daven. Maybe if I scare this girl enough, then she'll start to dress in a tzeis way. Maybe if I scare this girl enough, then she'll stop speaking lashon hara. Maybe if I scare. Maybe if I just give her enough patches, then maybe she'll come to school on time. Probably not. What's the point? It doesn't work. Why not? Because the blockage is not external. The blockage is internal. There's something going on inside. There's something going on that's making it uncomfortable. It's making it uncomfortable for this shor to move. The shor wants to go. It just needs that blockage removed. There's something inside of ourselves that's not moving. The ani knows something that the asher doesn't know. If you've ever been very distant from Hashem, then you know that desperately you want to be close to Hashem. That tzaddik doesn't know this because the tzaddik has never been far from Hashem.
But someone who's been far from Hashem, someone who's behaved in a way that's locally appropriate. Someone who's behaved in that way knows how much they yearn to be close to Hashem. They know how much they miss it. There's a feeling that we had when we were younger. Do you remember? You're six, seven, eight years old. You felt innocent. What did you do already? I'm sorry. I said six seven. I didn't mean to say six seven. I apologize. First of all, it's such a silly thing, no? Even my two-year-old grandson is going six, seven. How do they give a two-year-old brain rot? It's not right. It's abuse from those parents. Please tell Bracha that I said the way she's raising her daughter is abusive. Her son is abusive. I make a mistake. I'll say it again. You remember when you were eight and nine years old and you felt very innocent?
It's a good feeling to feel innocent. It's a good feeling to feel very close to the Rebbeinu Sholom. You know what you feel when you feel distant? I so desperately want to come close to the Rebbeinu Sholom. Here's a big usher. Here's a big usher. He's a big tzaddik. What is he bringing? What is he bringing to the Beis Hamikdash? He's bringing a big fat shard to the Beis Hamikdash. All he wants is a new move already. I'm trying to bring a carbom. Let's go. Why aren't you moving? And he's slapping and he's hitting. There are schools like this. There are teachers like this. There are people that they're not good mechanchim. They don't mean to be bad mechanchim. They just don't understand. They think that what needs and they say it like this. I'm gonna be real. I'm gonna give that kid a smack. I'm gonna give that kid a frask. I'm gonna make that kid move. I'm gonna tell you a secret. Not one kid has ever moved because somebody gave them a patch. Not once. It never happened in the history of the world. Sometimes for a little bit you'll get what's called obedience. Sometimes if you smack a child hard enough, then maybe for a little bit of time they'll act the right way, but it never creates a long-term change because a long-term change requires getting rid of something that's inside of us.
What's inside of this animal? What does he throw up? What does he have to take out of himself in order for him to get moving? It's a needle. It's a needle. What's the symbolism of a needle? Why are the Medrash? Why are the Chazal saying a needle? What does it mean, like, to have a needle in the hand? What does Chazal say? Pishchuli Pesach shall machat. Pishchuli. Open for me a hole the size of a needle. That's what the Rebbeinu Shlom says. If you could do just a little bit of tshuva, the Rebbeinu Shlom says, I'll do the rest. The godless of this ani is he teaches this person. I know how to make your animal move. I know how to get your animal to come closer to the Beis Hamikdash. Don't hit that child. You just have to get that child. Something has to come out. You have to bring out that feeling of tshuva. Sometimes the best rebbeim, the best teachers, are the ones that messed up when they were kids.
There's such a thing called a rebbe that was like a good boy when he was a child, and then he was a good guy when he was in yeshiva, and then he was from the choshav avreichim in the kollel, and then he became a rebbe, and he sees these kids and they're acting in a way that he never acted in his life, and he has no idea how to relate to them. I remember many years ago when I was a bachur in yeshiva, we had a tzaddik of a guy who was learning in our yeshiva. He was a madrich in the yeshiva. I almost said six seven. He was five years older than us, maybe somewhere between five and eight years older than us. And he was a real tzaddik. The yeshiva, I don't know why, there were these three guys in yeshiva that were thrown out of yeshiva shortly after Sukkot. Really psychotic guys, behaving like mamish vil da chayos. They gave this madrich to these three guys, and they said, go learn with these guys. These guys, I remember clear as day. I was 19 years old. These guys were first year in yeshiva. They were shana aleph.
These guys got a gishmak from telling this tzaddik of a madrich all the terrible things that they had done in high school, all the terrible things that they had done last night. I would sit right near them in the beis medrash, and they would sit down to have this chabura with the madrich in the beis medrash, and they would sit down and they would say to him. You know we did last night, and they would start to tell him all the averes that they did last night, and I would watch as this tzaddik gem, like one of these really sweet guys, talking about like an edel mael guy who was like, you see him in the morning, he's like One of those guys, he was a very gentle guy, and they would tell him all these crazy stories. His eyes would go wide, and the only thing he could say was Rachmanolitzlon for a straight hour. I sat near them in the bais medrash. It was an unbelievable chavrusha. I just want to say it's not yet a siren, right? It's just a hatra.
Be'ez Hashem, it's the second time it happened today. Be'ez Hashem, there's not going to be a siren. If there's a siren, then we'll pause this year. We have a miklat. We'll go to the mikvah if there's a siren. Bez Hashem, there's not going to be a siren. I'm not going to rush the shir though. Bez Hashem, it's not going to be. If anybody needs to call their parents to tell them they're safe, they can. If anybody needs to call their grandparents to tell them they're safe, they can. It was an unbelievable chavrusa. These three guys sitting with this tzaddik of a guy, they would tell him a story, and he would be like this the entire time. He'd be like, "Rachmanolitzlan. I want you to know I think the yeshiva was very well intentioned that they took such a tzaddik, a gem of a guy, and put him together with these three guys. I think it was a very big mistake. This tzaddik of a madrich.
He couldn't relate to these guys at all. There was a different madrich. It happened to be my madrich. This madrich was also known. He was like a very good basketball player in high school. He was known to be a very good guy. He was known to be a little bit more wild, a little bit more had a little bit more life to him. And he learned with a different set of guys. And I think back then, if I was a little bit older, I would have gone to the yeshiva and said you made the chavrusha wrong. This guy, he knows something. This madrich, who wasn't necessarily the sturkest guy in high school, he knows something about these guys that this tzaddik of a madrich doesn't know. He knows how badly they yearn to be close to the Rebbeinu Shol. He just has to feed them enough so they could get what they need out of them, so they could start to express a little bit of tshuva, and then you see people fly.
It's very often people think like change takes a long time. It's not true. Change happens very quickly. Long-term change happens over a long time. To build habits, to build a new identity, to make it your reflex to serve Hashem, that takes a long time. But the decision to change is very short. The decision to change is a very short decision. I see it every year in yeshiva. Baruch Hashem, we have a big yeshiva now. I see every year guys that come in, and you should know within a short amount of time We're getting new hatro within a short amount of time. They change very quickly. Why? They just need to get it out of them, and then you see they naturally start to move. We'll take a break. Nobody should run. That's the second time that happened to me today. I was giving she'er in Yerushalayim earlier today, and it's the second time. Maybe it's a skula that when we're giving she'er, that's dafko and the Iranians shoot. Maybe it's because our Torah is an unbelievable protection. Obviously, we have tremendous hakar shtov.
To everybody who's serving Am Yisrael with their bodies, but we also should know that what we're doing is also very important here, and that we're also serving Hakadosh Baruch Hu, and that the Torah that we're learning tonight should be a magain for all of Klal Yisrael. And blessed Hashem, this war should be over very soon. One last story, and then we'll be finished. The third story of the Medrash is that there's an Ani who brings a small carbon, a carbon mincha, and the Cohen. Gives them musler. What are you bringing such a small carbon for? And the Cohen has a dream, and in the dream the Cohen is told, 'You should know that a person is bringing their nefesh even when they bring something small. Kal v'chomer when they bring something big.' The way that Cohen sees greatness is how much you bring. That's the way a tzaddik thinks about it. A tzaddik thinks, 'How many mitzvos have you done?'
But there's a big secret that an ani knows—a big secret of somebody who feels very distant from Hashem. Hashem doesn't want my mitzvah. Hashem wants me. That's the most important thing for us to know. Of course, we should do mitzvot. We shouldn't do averos. But you should know the most important thing is that Hakadosh Baruch Hu wants you to bring yourself. He wants you to show up to the relationship. We have to be able to introduce ourselves to Hashem. We have to be able to talk about every aspect of our lives with Hashem. We can't just come to Hashem and say, Hashem, I'm a good girl. That's not enough. If you're in a real relationship, it means you talk about everything. In a real relationship, you share everything that you're going through. That's the beauty of being in a relationship with someone you love. If you're in a relationship with someone you love, you could talk to them about anything. The Ani comes to the Cohen and he says, Listen, you think I'm bringing something very small? You should know I'm here.
I'm here. For me, this is big. Kal v'chomer for somebody who's a big tzaddik and they bring a very big carbon for sure that's amazing. I'm also here and I'm also bringing something to the table. I'm also bringing myself to the table. That's a very big thing that the kohen has to learn. At the end of the day, there's three stories here with three lessons. But there's actually a tahalich. There's a way of serving the Rebbeinu Shalom. When you're feeling distant from the Rebbeinu Shalom, step one you should know the Rebbeinu Shalom is life. Even if you're not showing up, even if half of your life is for yourself and only half of your life is for Hashem, but the half of your life that's for Hashem—that's your parnasa, that's your life. You should never be distant from the Rebbe Nishm. You have to know to bring a carbon to draw close to Hashem. That's your life. Step two: There's what was blocking me. It's not something outside. It's not the system. People like to blame. It's these teachers. It's not that. That's not what's going on. There's something inside of ourselves that needs to come up. What needs to come up? Tshuva.
We need to bring the tshuva out. We all want to serve the Rebbeinu Shol. We have a blockage inside. We have to bring that blockage up and get it out of ourselves. That's called tshuva. And step three, you should know if you show up, the Rebbeinu Shol wants you. That's what's important. It doesn't matter the size of your karmel. It doesn't matter how great you are. It doesn't matter how many mitzvot you are. Did you show up in this moment? That's the key. We started off this year by asking a couple of very simple questions. The first question was, "Who would ever want to bring such a smelly carbon, such a stinky carbon?" The feathers—they smell terrible. Rashi says You should know that 'reach nichoach to Hashem' and 'reach nichoach to us' mean two different things. When we're passing by a fire and something smells in the fire and it smells bad, we say that's unpleasant.
Rebbeinu Shlom is not turned off by unpleasantness, not even a little bit. The Rebbeinu Shlom is excited by what smells delicious to the Rebbeinu Shlom. If somebody comes to the Rebbeinu Shlom and says, 'Here's the parts of me that are not great. Here's the parts of me that a little bit they smell.' That you would think if I came to you and I said, 'You should know I've done this avera.' To us, it might look like it's stinky. It looks like it's smelly. Who could say such a thing? But if you come to the person you love, if you come to the Rebbeinu Shlom and you say, 'Rebbeinu Shlom, here's something that I've done and I'm bringing it to you.' I'm asking you. Bring me closer. I don't want to be this way anymore. You should know. To the Rebbeinu Shlom, that smells delicious. To the Rebbeinu Shlom, smells delicious. I heard a story many years ago. I'm not going to say the name of the Rav.
There was a certain Rav. He was known to be. He was known to be very close with homeless people. He was very. He was in a certain way. He was a very beautiful person. In other ways, maybe not so beautiful. But in a certain way, he was known to be a very beautiful person. He was very close with homeless people, and he would invite these people home, and he would invite them into shul, and he would hug them, and he would sit next to them. And these people smelled terrible. And people asked him, "How can you sit next to these men? They smell terrible." And this rav looked at them and he said, "I don't know what you're talking about. They smell to me. They smell so beautiful. They smell wonderful to me. I don't know what you're talking about. There are some people that they just smell the outside. They smell the stinky part. Look, they did an avera. I don't want to be anywhere near them. It smells terrible. When a person comes with their averas, when they leave the feathers on, and they bring that to the Rebbeinu Shlom, and they say, Rebbeinu Shlom, listen, I know I'm imperfect, but I'm here and I'm giving it to you because I want to be close to you."
The Rebbeinu Shlom says to me, that's a reach nicholach. To me, that's the most important thing in the world. It doesn't matter echer amar bevecher amar. It doesn't matter if you're bringing the biggest carbon in the world or the smart smallest carbon in the world. It matters to me that you're here. Did you care enough to come to me? Did you care enough to have a conversation? That's exciting to me, says the Rebbeinu Shalom. We're in a time period where it's called the time period of an ani. Mashiach is described as ani. He's ani v'roichev ala chamar. Why is Mashiach described as ani? Because what brings Mashiach is tshuva. That's what brings Mashiach. What brings Mashiach is to be a balschuve. It's a very beautiful story with a balschuve that came to a big gadol b'taira. Again, I'm not sure if the story is true, so I don't want to say the gadol b'taira's name. Somebody told me the story wasn't true, but several people told me that it was. In case it wasn't, I won't say the gadol's name, but I believe this story is true, even if it never happened. It was a balschuve who came to this big gadol b'taira.
And he said I don't feel like I contribute anything. There are people that are bigger tzaddikim than me. There are people that are bigger talmidei chachamim than me. There are people that are wealthier than me and they give more tzedakah than me. I don't feel like I contribute anything. And this gadol b'tayra, it was Sukkot time. He said, "Please come to my simchas beis hashoeva." I'm asking if you please come to my simchas beis hashoeva. So that night he went to the simchas beis hashoeva. Who was there? It was all the gedolei. We're at that simchas beis hashoeva, and all the askanim were there, and all the gvirim were there, all the big people were there. And this gadol, he started speaking. He said, 'When Mashiach comes, and he turns to one of the gadolim that was there, real tzaddik, he says, 'When Mashiach comes, he points to the tzaddik. Mashiach is going to thank you for being one of the leaders of the generation.' And then he points to one of the askanim, one of the guys. Maybe he started at Tzala. Maybe he started, like Yad Sara. One of these like amazing organizations. When Mashiach comes, he's going to turn to you and he's going to say, 'Thank you so much for taking care of my children. You did such unbelievable chesed.'" And then he turns to this big tamochacham
A guy who really is holding in shas and paiskim, and he says, "Thank you so much for learning my tirah. What you did is unbelievable." And then he turns to the balshuva in front of the entire crowd, and Mashiach turns to this balshuva and he says, 'Thank you so much for bringing me.' It was your tshuva that brought me. It wasn't the big tzaddik and it wasn't the big askan and it wasn't the big tamochacham. Those are all very important, but Mashiach is described as an ani. Mashiach is described as somebody who's not coming to the bainishlam with everything figured out. He's not coming perfect. What inspires Mashiach to come is when we bring our imperfections. That's why the pasuk says v'shisoso beknafiv, but lo yavdil. You could split it open. You could say, here's a part of me that's great, and here's a part of me that's not great yet. But don't snap it in half.
Don't make it like you're two totally different people. Don't snap it in half and say I'm only coming to the bainishlam with my perfect parts. Their Rebbeinu Shlom is not interested in a relationship with Malachim. If the Rebbeinu Shlom wanted Malachim, he never would have created us. There's a space, there's a world for Malachim. It's a very spiritual world that has nothing to do with our world. Our world is for human beings. The Rebbeinu Shlom wants to be in our world. The Rebbeinu Shlom created us to be imperfect because he's obsessed with imperfect people who are trying to do godly things. The Rebbeinu Shlom is obsessed with us. He knows that every one of us is precious, and the Rebbeinu Sholom understands us better than we could understand ourselves. The Rebbeinu Sholom knows how beautiful we are, especially when we do the wrong thing. The Rebbeinu Sholom knows that when we do the wrong thing, it's like a trampoline. It's going to take us to the highest heights.
We should talk a bit zayicha. Now we're in Parshas VaYikra. We're in Chodesh Nissan. This is the zman of Geula. VaYikra is the beginning of being called. We're being called to be in a relationship with Hashem. To be in a relationship with Hashem means to bring all of ourselves All of ourselves. The neshv, the nefesh kiakriv, all of ourself has to come to the banishtan. Yiratzum ne'avinu shabashamayim that we should be zeiche to do a real tshuva. Especially, there's a big ace lassos in the world right now. It's wild what's happening in the world. It's a zman for us to do tshuva. It's a zman for us to bring Mashiach be'ez Hashem this Nissan. We're going to greet Mashiach Tzion. Girls have a beautiful Shabbos.
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