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Friday Night
THIS SHABBOS MAKES me
want to sing. (Don’t worry… you won’t hear me even if I do.) After all, it
is Shabbos Shirah,
the parsha
with the Shir Shel Yumm—Song
at the Sea. But what I’d really like to do is sing the praises of Eretz Yisroel, since
this Sunday night, b’ezras
Hashem, is Tu
BeShevat, when we do exactly that. I can’t wait for the Seder to begin.
Seder? That’s not for another couple of months when Pesach arrives. What Seder?
The Tu BeShevat Seder, of
course.
There’s a Seder on Tu BeShevat? Says who?
In the 16th century,
the Arizal
and his students created a Tu
BeShevat seder, somewhat like the Pesach Seder, that celebrates the Aitz Chaim—the map of
the sefiros.
The earliest published version of this seder
is called the Pri Aitz
Hadar, arranged by an anonymous student of the Arizal. It is a
50-page pamphlet with instructions regarding the fruits to eat, the verses
to accompany them, and the order to follow.
The Tu BeShevat Seder is a
lot of fun for the novice, and probably more people do it each year. It is
also extremely deep for the kabbalist,
and if you want to know why, check out the sefer Tuv HaAretz: Ma’alos Peiros Eretz
Yisroel. The author, Rabbi Noson Shapira, the rav of Yerushalayim during
the 1600s, explains, based upon the writings of the Arizal, how different
fruits of Eretz Yisroel correspond
to specific sefiros
in the four worlds of Asiyah,
Yetzirah, Beriyah, and Atzilus,
or AYB”A for
short.
They’re called
“worlds,” but they are more like levels of spiritual consciousness. Asiyah, which means action, is the lowest
of the four worlds and the one we live in physically, and the bulk of the
world’s population spiritually as well. Unfortunately, since most people
relate to very little more than what they see or experience, they never tend
to make it past the world of Asiyah.
Above that is Yetzirah, which means formation. It was on
that level of reality that God formed physical Creation, yaish m’yaish,
something from something. The materials for Creation had already been made yaish m’ayin— something from nothing—on
the level of Beriyah,
which means creation (from nothing).
God used those “supplies” to make the physical world on the level of Yetzirah, including Gan Aiden.
The “nothing” from
which God made the “something” was actually not nothing at all. It was just
completely spiritual so, compared to the physical world that followed, it
was if it didn’t exist, just as a soul compared to a body. This level of
reality is called Atzilus,
which means emanations, because the spiritual light emanates from here to
create and maintain all the worlds below.
Shabbos Day
THERE ARE MANY kinds
of fruit in the world, and it is interesting how they differ from one
another. Some are large, some are small, some have big pits, some have
small ones, some have thin skins and some are thick skinned, etc. Why?
Perhaps because of the temperature of where they grow, the availability of
water, etc. That is all physically true, but it turns out that there is a kabbalistic reason for
this as well.
In Tuv HaAretz, the
author explains which fruits of Eretz
Yisroel correspond to which level of reality, Atzilus, Beriyah, Yetzirah,
or Asiyah,
and why this impacts their physical make-up. It has to do with another kabbalistic idea
called the Klipos,
which means “peels,” because they act a spiritual barrier between a person
and God. Not only do they undermine holiness, but they feed off it as well
to become stronger and deadlier.
Consequently, we do
our best to avoid “feeding” the Klipos
any more than their Divine due (evil is necessary for free will). Simply,
that translates into minimizing sin, because sin feeds the Klipos the most, and.
We also protect whatever kedushah—holiness—we
generate from the Torah we learn and the mitzvos
we do. This is why we don’t learn Torah at certain times of the year, and
in places associated with spiritual impurity.
The fruits of Eretz Yisroel reflect
this idea. Tuv HaAretz
explains how the various fruits grow differently based upon the level of
spiritual consciousness with which they are associated. The further down a
fruit is in the spiritual realm, the closer it is to the Klipos and the more
protection it needs, something represented by its physical reality.
There is more. Fruit
(the pronunciation of the Hebrew peiros
if you read the word without knowing the vowels), represents creative
power. Adam HaRishon
wasn’t just told to have family. He was told to be “fruitful,” a term that
all cultures seem to have adapted to mean productive and successful. That is
something the Klipos
wish to inhibit if not stop altogether, and we are only as “fruitful” as we
are because of God’s help.
Therefore, Tu BeShevat is also a
time to thank God for the fruits of our labors, the kinds that grow on
trees, and the ones that result from the efforts we make to get ahead in
life. But there is one particular task we are supposed to focus on, as the Pri Tzaddik (Fruit of
the Righteous) points out, alluded to by one word in the mishnah: elan—tree. Tu BeShevat is called
the “Rosh Hashanah
of the Tree” in the mishnah,
when it should really have written “trees.”
There’s a deep reason
for that.
Seudas Shlishis
WHEN YOU THINK of
tree and fruit, what comes to mind? Okay, besides your favorite apple or
lemon tree. Personally, I usually think about the Aitz HaDa’as Tov v’Ra, the Tree of Knowledge of Good and
Evil, because it is such a central theme in my writings. This
is not only because of what the Torah says happened through it, but because
of what Kabbalah
says has to happen with it, at least by the end of history.
What has to happen to
the Aitz HaDa’as?
What was supposed to have happened back in Gan Aiden, had Adam HaRishon only waited
until Shabbos
to eat its fruit. It would have joined together with the Aitz HaChaim, the Tree of Life, and
become one with it. As the Pri
Tzaddik explains, Tu
BeShevat reminds us of this and celebrates our opportunity to
do this. And just as the rabbis composed the Pesach Seder to help us gain personal
freedom in our time, the kabbalists
later composed the Tu
BeShevat Seder to help us focus on our daily life task, and
facilitate the tikun
process.
Eating has a lot to
do with it. As most of us merrily eat without giving much thought to what
it is doing for the world in general, we are completing one of the most
important tikun
processes there are: Birrur.
Birrur is separation, because
that is what we’re here to do: separate the holy sparks from the impure
aspects of Creation in which they are absorbed.
Just as our bodies
physically separate the nutrients in food from the waste and use the good
while disposing of the bad, the eating process is doing the same on a
spiritual level. If a food is “healthy,” it is because of the holy sparks
it contains. The “unhealthy” part is where the sparks are not (french fries
taste great but they do not contain many sparks or they’d be healthy to
eat).
While combined, the
food (and we too!) have the status of an aitz
haDa’as tov v’ra—a tree of knowledge of good and evil. Once the
good is removed and the “evil” is disposed of, that thing changes its
status to an aitz
hachaim, a tree of life, so to speak, and Creation is that much
more rectified.
The holier the foods,
the more sparks they contain, and no food is holier than food that is grown
in Eretz Yisroel
and then used for a mitzvah.
Since there is a hierarchy of fruits that correspond to the hierarchy of
worlds, the Seder
takes us higher and higher to each of the four levels of spiritual
consciousness.
Of course, wine is
one of the ultimate symbols of the tikun
process, and four cups of wine are part of the Tu BeShevat Seder as well, but with a twist. Though Kiddush is usually
made with red wine on all other holy occasions, for the Tu BeShevat Seder it
is made on white wine, representing the snow on Mount Hermon and the cold
winter season. For the second cup, one-third red wine is combined with
two-thirds white wine, representing the beginning of spring.
The third cup is half
white and half red, corresponding to the spring which has half rainy days
and half sunny days. And the fourth cup is all red wine, symbolizing the
hot summer days that end the agricultural season. Shlomo HaMelech wrote, “Do not look at wine when it is
red; when he puts his eye on the cup, it goes smoothly” (Mishlei 23:31). But as
Rashi explains,
that is talking about the person who drinks only to get drunk. At the sederarim of Tu BeShevat and Pesach, we drink as a
means to free our souls to come closer to God.
Ain Od Milvado,
Part 37
As I mentioned in the
previous parsha,
whether you like the Erev
Rav or hate them, they were, are, necessary as a means for the
Jewish people to actualize potential that otherwise would have remained
unrealized. All adversity is for this reason, and though we may want to
question the means, the end is for certain.
Amalek too. We have
to hate them. We have to go to war against them. But we also have to
realize what Rav Hutner, zt”l,
said in his drush
on Chanukah.
Doubt pushes us to intellectual and spiritual clarity, and it is that
intellectual and spiritual clarity that brings us closer to God.
Amalek epitomizes
doubt in God and His providence. His name equals suffek—doubt—in gematria (240). This
number is also the difference in gematrios
between the first and second verses of the Shema. As mentioned in previous
Perceptions, the Shema
represents the unwavering clarity of the angels in Heaven, and Boruch Shem represents
our lower level of clarity which, at this stage of history, is more of an emumah. It’s what you
get when you add “Amalek” to the clarity of the Shema.
The opposite of this
is what we find in this week’s
parsha, what the Jewish people said after they safely crossed
the sea and the Egyptians drowned:
This is my God and I will glorify Him. (Shemos 15:2)
He revealed Himself
in His glory to them, and they pointed at Him with their finger. By the
sea, [even] a maidservant perceived what prophets did not perceive. (Rashi)
This is why the
episode of Amalek interrupts the incredible revelation of God at Yum Suf, and the even
more incredible revelation of God at Har
Sinai. Amalek was not just a historical hiccup. He was a
necessary crisis to push us to grow enough spiritually to be ready to
receive Torah at Har
Sinai. The attack in Rephidim helped push the Jewish people
from theoretical of ain
od Milvado to the actual ain
od Milvado. This is why next week’s parsha’s connects the two events with
this verse:
They journeyed from Rephidim, and they arrived in
the desert of Sinai, and they encamped in the desert, and the Jewish people
encamped there opposite the mountain. (Shemos
19:2)
And that is the
ULTIMATE tikun
on every level. Taking the knowledge of Ain
Od Milvado from the level of dayah—general
awareness—to Binah—intellectual
understanding—and then to Haskel—intellectual
and emotional integration, is why God made all of Creation in the first
place, and continues to maintain it. This is THE tikun of the Aitz HaDa’as Tov v’Ra.
The drinking feast of
Tu BeShevat
is when we achieve the level of Dayah
of this and start the process of ascending. The Purim Mishteh, we will
see b”H, is
the opportunity to ascend to the level of Binah. As a result, the four cups of wine
on Pesach
together with the rest of the Seder,
can allow us to reach the ultimate level of Haskel of Ain Od Milvado. That is the true path to
lasting freedom. Chag
Samayach.
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