Tisha B'Av: Mourning the Past – and Working for the Future: What R. Azuali Learned from the Women

by Rav Netanel Yosifun, Rosh Yeshiva, Yeshivat Orot Netanya, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

The renowned Rav Chaim Yosef David Azulai, known as the Chida, once came upon a Jewish town during his travels, and saw the women cleaning and painting their homes on Tisha B'Av afternoon. The Chida believed this was forbidden on Tisha B'Av, as it represented joy and distraction from the mourning for the Holy Temple and Jerusalem, and sharply advised the local rabbis to ban it immediately.

When he returned home from the synagogue, the Chida saw some women whispering and pointing at him. He asked what they were saying, and was told that they were saying about him, "That holy rabbi from Jerusalem said that the Mashiach will not come this year!"

The Chida could not understand how they had reached that conclusion, and one woman finally explained, "Every year, we prepare our homes on Tisha B'Av for the Mashiach, but this year you forbade us to prepare for his arrival."

Upon hearing this, the Chida immediately changed his ruling: "The houses must be painted and cleaned this Tisha B'Av – not only one room, but the entire house! And the best paint must be used! And in this merit, perhaps the Mashiach will come this very day!"

In addition to the importance of Jewish customs, this story also teaches us the value of proactive anticipation of the coming Redemption. Let us elaborate.

When the Second Temple was destroyed, the Sages of the generation, under the leadership of Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai, enacted a series of regulations by which the Jewish People would always remember this national catastrophe. Their source was a verse in Jeremiah's prophecies that reads, "Zion… no one seeks her out." From the fact that the prophet is lamenting this sorry state, the Rabbis of the Talmud learn that Jerusalem must be "sought out" and remembered.

When we read this passage today, we might ask: "Who said the intention is merely to remember? Perhaps we are bidden to do something pro-active for Jerusalem, such as working to redeem it?" That is, remembering is generally about the past, while "seeking out" implies doing something for the future. Is the primary issue one of mourning the past? What about acting and building for the future?"

In fact, a look at the Talmudic list of regulations enacted "in memory of the Temple" shows that they do not only commemorate the tragedy that occurred, but also look forward to its rectification. Consider this case, for example: The new year's wheat is Biblically forbidden to be eaten until the Omer offering is waved on the second day of Passover; but if the Temple is not standing, then there is no Omer offering, and the wheat may be eaten as soon as dawn breaks. However, after the destruction, the Sages ruled that even then, the new wheat may not be eaten at all that day – and why? So that when the Temple is soon rebuilt, and the Omer offering is renewed, no one will mistakenly say, "Just like we ate the new wheat last year from the morning, so too this year!"

That is, this regulation was enacted not to mourn what was, but in order to prepare us for the construction of the future Beit HaMikdash!

Certainly throughout our long Exile, our nation lacked the practical ability to work for the physical "seeking out" and construction of Zion – and this is why we "sought it out" chiefly by remembering the past. The primary annual date for doing so is Tisha B'Av, the terrible and calamitous day when our glorious Holy Temples were burnt. On this day, even one who generally engages in building the Land and the country, sits sadly on the floor, occupying himself in his bent-over state with that which our nation is lacking.

On the other hand, as the bells of our Redemption began to ring stronger in recent decades, our people's capacity to work actively for the redemption slowly began to increase. This led to a "seeking out" that was less concerned with memories of the past, and more in actions for the future, both spiritually and practically.

Still, even now, when we are engaged proactively most of the year towards the Redemption, it would seem that on Tisha B'Av we must emphasize our grief over that which we are lacking. Proof of this is that Jewish Law forbids Torah study on this day, except for that which has to do with the destruction and the laws of mourning for it. One might have thought that at least studying the Laws of the future Temple would be permitted, so as to inspire us towards that goal. But we see that the Sages approved only that which would keep us steeped in the sense of mourning, and that this must be the atmosphere on Tisha B'Av, even nowadays.

There is a deep logic to this matter. For it is precisely the great lack of our Holy Sanctuary for more than 1,950 years that brings Israel to uplift its visions and dreams of a great, exalted rectification – which will give meaning to the crisis we are undergoing. A "quick fix" is often a bad idea, as is misses the full impact of the rectification.

It is therefore important that we perpetuate the depth of the loss – and the greater the loss and sorrow, the greater the anticipation and visionary dreams.

The Chida expressed this that day in a far-off community. At first he thought Tisha B'Av was only for mourning – but then, from the womenfolk, he understood that the picture was not complete. When the afternoon hours arrived, the time at which the Mashiach was/will be born, the women – the Congregation of Israel – felt deep inside their heart that the winds had changed, and that the time had come to shake off the dust of "only the past," and to add to it a forward-looking "seeking out."

And in fact, it is customary throughout the Jewish Nation that, amid the sorrow of Tisha B'Av, we begin to engage in longing for the Mashiach when the afternoon arrives. We are permitted to sit on chairs, for instance, and some say we may participate in regularly-scheduled Torah classes. And in our generations, Israel has begun – and is now in the thick of – working all year round for the active Redemption of Zion.

The author of the Kuzari, Rav Yehuda HaLevy, wrote that Jerusalem will be rebuilt only when we long for it to the ultimate degree. Let us therefore all dream the great dream, raise our sights o so high, and thus awaken to act for the return of the Divine Presence to Zion and for the building of the Beit HaMikdash, in our own days!

VaEtchanan: Why Did Moshe Plead Not to be Locked Out of the Land of Israel?

by Rav Avraham Yitzchak HaLevy Kil'av, zt"l, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

On this Shabbat, the Sabbath of Consolation following the fast of Tisha B'Av, we read Parashat VaEtchanan (D'varim 3,23-7,11). Its first word means "I pleaded" – Moshe Rabbeinu recounts to Israel in this, his parting speech, how he pleaded with G-d to allow him to pass through and see the Land of Israel. Reading these words we feel his love of the Land and for Israel's historic mission there.

The Medrash tells us one of the ways in which Moshe seeks to make his case:

"R. Levi said that Moshe told Hashem: O G-d, the bones of Yosef entered the land [and were buried there], and I cannot enter??" Hashem answered, "He who acknowledged his land is buried there in his land, and he who did not acknowledge his land is not buried in his land.

"What was the story with Yosef? His master's wife [who tried to seduce him] called him a 'Hebrew man' (B'reshit 39,14) and he did not deny it, and in fact later he told the Minister of Drinks that he had been kidnapped from his home in the land of the Hebrews. Moshe, however, heard the Midianite girls call him an "Egyptian man" (Sh'mot 2,19) and he did not protest – and therefore he was not to be buried in the Holy Land.

"[G-d continues:] If you are buried with them here, they will come to the Land in your merit – and then you would end up coming as well, to which I object].

"R. Levi said, 'This is similar to one whose copper coins were scattered in a dark place. He said to himself, "If I ask people to shine a light for me so that I can gather them, no one will pay attention to me."' What did he do? He took a gold coin and cast it in their midst and began shouting, "Shine a light for me so I can find my gold coin!" And they did. After finding the gold coin, he said to them. "Wait for me so that I can gather the copper coins," and he gathered them up. Thanks to the gold coin, the copper coins were gathered. So said G-d to Moshe, ‘If you are buried with them in the wilderness, they will all come by your merit, and you will come at their head,'" as is written, "he came at the head of the people”' (D'varim 33,21).

The primary job of Yosef was a material one, to prepare the nation for its historic exodus from Egypt "with vast wealth." Thus he would lay the foundation for Israeli sovereignty in the Land with wealth and economic strength. Moshe, on the other hand, brought down the Torah from heaven for Israel, building the spiritual side of the nation, their destiny. This was precisely Moshe's claim: "Yosef was responsible for the physical entry, and he entered the Land – while I, in charge of the spiritual, do not get to enter?!"

Hashem answered him, "There's a big difference: Yosef acknowledged the Land, that is, it was his reality; he saw the land as the basis for everything – and therefore he merited to complete his mission in Egypt when the Israelites left it. For Moshe, however, the land was not the primary thing; he did not "acknowledge" his connection to it." Moshe's chief mission concerns the Torah, which was actually given in the desert, not in a populated land. He belongs to the Upper spiritual side, which is not directly tied with land, and this is why he did not protest when he was called an Egyptian. The "location" was not the critical thing for him; rather his job and mission were the important matter. Moshe could therefore enter the Land only when it is in its most perfected state, when Jerusalem is built and complete with the Holy Temple at the zenith of its holiness – a tremendous sanctity that can never end and that is not followed by a destruction. However, such a level can only be reached when Israel itself is in a very superior religious state – which was certainly not the case after the Sins of the Golden Calf and the Scouts. Moshe did not complete his mission in the desert, and he had to raise up his generation in order that they be worthy of entering.

What about the Land made Moshe long so greatly to enter it?

He prayed to G-d, "Please let me go over and the good Land that is beyond [to the west of] the Jordan River, this goodly mountain [region] and the Levanon" (D'varim 4,25). Rashi explains that the "mountain" refers to Jerusalem, and the "Levanon" is the Holy Temple. That is, he wished to be an intrinsic part of building both the economic/political basis of the nation, and the spiritual center. Both these centers together, Jerusalem and the Temple, are those that give absolute wholeness and enable Israel to reach their ultimate objectives. Moshe Rabbeinu desired to live on that level spiritual loftiness that he could not attain in the desert.

Even Like an Animal!

The Sages of the Medrash D'varim Rabba (11,6) taught: "Moshe said before G-d, Master of the Universe, if You do not bring me into the Land of Israel, leave me be at least like the beasts of the field that eat grass and drink water, live, and see the world - let my soul be like one of them!"

How strange! Assuming that Moshe's desire for the Land stemmed from a love for Torah and mitzvot, what benefit could he derive from being like animal, clearly not obligated in any commandments? We must learn from here that love for the Land of Israel is not tied solely to the commandments. The Ritva, in fact, wrote at the beginning of Tractate Gittin that even that part of Eretz Yisrael that lacks the level of sanctity of "those who ascended from Bavel" still possesses the beloved quality of the Land – and this is why the Sage Rabbi Avahu would kiss the shore of Acre when he arrived there, even though those who ascended from Bavel did not conquer it and Land-dependent mitzvot do not apply there. R. Avahu displayed a unique Divine attachment to the Land, desiring to be close to holy things even if no fulfillment of practical commandments is involved.

This is why Moshe Rabbeinu requested that if he did not merit to live as a member of Am Yisrael in the highest spiritual degree of the Land - at least he would like to be in the presence of those who did merit it, and to enjoy the radiance of the Divine Presence in any form of life. Such is the importance of clinging to the Land of Israel – something we can do today, but Moshe himself was not able to do.

Devarim: Eichah - How Can This Possibly Be?

by Rav Hillel Gefen, Yeshivat Beit El, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

This week we will read Eichah three times in different contexts. Coincidence?

The Torah portion this week is Devarim, which begins the book of Deuteronomy and goes until chapter 3, verse 22. The haftarah portion that we will read from the Prophets right afterwards is from the first chapter of Yeshayahu (Isaiah). And a few days later will be the Jewish calendar's saddest day, Tisha B'Av (the ninth day of the month of Av), on which we will read the Book of Lamentations.

All three of them either begin with or include a verse beginning with the word Eichah, which is basically a sorrowful question meaning, "How can it be?"

Our Sages connected the dots among the three of these laments, explaining in the Medrash that three prophets used the word Eichah in their prophecies: Moshe, Yeshayahu, and Yirmiyahu:

Moshe said (Devarim 1,12), "Eichah esa l'vadi, How will I be able to bear [Israel's] burden, responsibility and conflict all by myself?"

Yeshayahu said (Yeshayahu 1,21), "Eichah hay'ta l'zonah, How has the faithful city become a harlot? It used to be full of justice, and now – murderers."

And Yirmiyahu said (Yirmiyahu 1,1), "Eichah yashva vadad, How is it that the city dwells alone?"

The Medrash then quotes R. Levi who says, "This is comparable to an upstanding woman who had three friends: One saw her in her tranquility, one saw her in her debauchery, and one saw her in her disgrace. Similarly, Moshe saw Israel in their glory and tranquility… Yeshayahu saw them in their debauchery … and Yirmiyahu saw them in their disgrace…"

One way of understanding this Medrash is that the Sages are comparing Israel's positive circumstances on their way into the Promised Land to their deterioration before and after the destruction of the Temples and their Exile. As such, Moshe Rabbeinu's "Eichah" actually has a positive meaning: "G-d has increased your numbers and you are now as many as the stars of the sky!" (verse 10); you have grown so much that governing you is a very big job!

This in fact appears to be what the Sages meant when they taught elsewhere (P'tichta, Eicha Rabbati 11): "If you had merited it, you would have [been able to] read Moshe's Eichah [on Tisha B'Av], but now that you have sinned, you read Eichah yashva vadad." This shows that Moshe's Eichah is not a lamentation, but rather words of appreciation.

However, our custom is to read these words of Moshe in the Torah portion in the sad melody generally reserved for Tisha B'Av! This shows that we do not understand them happily.

In truth, the sadness of Moshe's words can also be taken in different ways. It could be that our sadness is a result of comparing the high level that we could have reached to the actual low point at which we find ourselves. But it could also be this:

The Medrash Devarim Rabba (1,10) gives two possibilities as to exactly which period Moshe was referring to when he said here, "And I spoke to you at that time, saying, "How can I lead you by myself." R. Yochanan said it was at the time of Yitro, who told Moshe that "this thing [of judging the nation] is too heavy for you; you are not able to perform it alone" (Sh'mot 18,17-23), and then he advised Moshe to appoint various levels of judges and courts. However, R. Chiyya has another idea, saying that Moshe was actually referring to the period of the Complainers (mit'onenim), when he told G-d, "I am not able to bear all this people alone..." (Bamidbar 11,14-12).

How do these two periods compare? During the time of the Complainers, the need arose to appoint elders to share the leadership with Moshe as a direct result of Israel's low level, because of their complaints and surrender to their desires for meat. It is thus understandable that the issue here was the nation's inability to adapt to the high spiritual level of Moshe Rabbeinu.

On the other hand, R. Yochanan said the period in question was when Moshe accepted Yitro's advice to appoint judges – and this was when Israel was on a high spiritual level. They had come to Moshe in their multitudes to seek G-d, and this led to the need to appoint judges who themselves were on a high level and received their inspiration from Moshe. We know this because the plan was that "they would bring the difficult cases to Moshe" (Sh'mot 18,22). What could be sad about this?

The answer is that even the appointment of the judges at Yitro's suggestion, though a positive act, was not clean of negative influences. The Sfat Emet sees in this a root cause that actually later led to crises in our national life. The very fact that Israel distanced themselves from the close, direct supervision of Moshe, and were made to deal with judges on various levels - this caused the thought that it was possible to send people to spy out the land of Canaan, rather than relying solely on Moshe’s prophecy.

This is why we read Moshe's words here in a tune of mourning – because Moshe is blaming himself as well for the sins of the Jewish people, since his actions led, indirectly, to the Sin of the Spies and others.

From here we learn an important principle in national leadership. Sometimes it happens that a simple action, in which no flaw whatsoever is apparent, contains within it components that are liable to bring about future mishaps. And when it comes to issues of national import and leadership, these mishaps can carry immense significance.

May Hashem turn these days of mourning for our Holy Temples into a period of joy and happiness, of consolation and salvation, and may we merit to see the rebuilding of Jerusalem and the Holy Land together with the entire Nation of Israel.

Pinchas: "The Covenant of Peace:" Truth Alone Doesn't Cut It

by (abridged) Shalom Vasserteil, CEO Tzipcha International, translated by Hillel Fendel.

Proper leadership must balance various values

We read in this week's Torah portion of Pinchas (Bamidbar 25,10-30,1; outside Israel, Parashat Balak is read) of the "covenant of peace" that G-d gave to Pinchas. This happened after Pinchas zealously killed a public adulterer and thus saved the People of Israel from the punishing plague of death.

What exactly was this "covenant of peace" that G-d gave Pinchas after such an un-peaceful act of public execution? One explanation is that true peace is based not on flattery and false pretenses, but on Torah and ethics. "There is no peace to the wicked ones, said G-d" (Yeshayahu 48,22); by killing Zimri, Pinchas shattered the false peace and alliance between the evil ones – as well as the divisions between Israel and G-d.

But still, why specifically a covenant of "peace" of all things? We know that the attribute truth was very strong in the Israelite tradition up to then – "Give peace to Yaakov," we read; Yaakov was a man of truth, as was Moshe Rabbeinu, who strongly symbolized this attribute. Why peace, therefore, and not truth? These two traits are actually quite different: While Aharon pursued peace and brotherhood, Moshe would say, "Let the law pierce the mountain!"

In fact, the Talmud discusses whether "compromise" is a correct approach – for, after all, it is, by definition, not the truth of the matter. Some sages that it is actually forbidden, while others say that it is the preferred approach. In the Mishnah of Pirkei Avot (1,12), we read support for this latter methodology: "Be of the students of Aharon [grandfather of Pinchas] – lover of peace and pursuer of peace, love people, and bring them close to Torah." The Rambam says that Aharon would speak with sinners, approach them with love, to the point that they would then wish to be like him, correct their ways, and become his students.

When our Sages seek to explain what was the nature of the "covenant of peace" that G-d forged with Pinchas, they generally focus on three aspects. One is the Priesthood itself, as the verse here states: "Pinchas has turned My wrath away from Israel, in that he was zealous for My sake… Behold, I give him My covenant of peace… the covenant of an everlasting priesthood…" Thus, priesthood is peace.

A second approach is that peace here means "protection," in various ways. One aspect is that the covenant will protect from "zealousness." Pinchas, after all, performed a very violent act of spearing two people to death. Yes, it was justified and necessary to stop the plague, but it was liable to imbue within the perpetrator traits of cruelty, anger and violence. The 19^th-century R. Naftali Tzvi Yehuda Berlin, author of the Haamek Davar commentary on the Torah, explains that G-d gave Pinchas with this covenant a guarantee that the violent act would not stain his soul; he would rather become a Priest – a man of peace, love and kindness – and this would balance him, cleanse his soul of the remnants of violence, and ensure that what he did would remain a one-time act and not a fixed attribute of his character. Rather, the priesthood would restore him to the way of peace of his grandfather, Aharon HaCohen.

It would even stand him in good stead in next week's Torah portion, where we read that Moshe appointed Pinchas to head the military as it "avenged G-d's vengeance" against the Midianites who coaxed Israel to sin.

At the end of our Shmoneh Esrei prayer, we say Oseh shalom bimromav, "He Who makes Peace above, may He bring peace upon us and upon all Israel." We request that we will know how to balance between the various contradictory forces and elements in our lives, just as G-d did with the four basic elements [earth, wind, fire, water] when He created the world, and thus turn every argument and dispute into a building block of positivity.

This balance brings us to an additional level of this gift of the "covenant of peace" given to Pinchas – a way of life for both the individual and the collective. Regarding the fast of the 17th of Tammuz which occurred this week, as well as the other fasts, the prophet Zechariah says that they will become days of joy and gladness, in which truth and peace will not only coexist, but will do so in love and harmony: "The fast of the fourth month, and the fast of the fifth, and the fast of the seventh, and the fast of the tenth, shall be for the house of Yehuda joy and gladness… therefore love the truth and peace" (8,19). Just as G-d makes peace in His heavens, finding balance between opposites, so the preferred way is to make peace upon us and upon all of Israel.

Truth alone does not suffice; we must walk in the path of peace of Aharon HaCohen, without harming the value of truth – even if it does not remain totally pure. We must go beyond the letter of the law, and even take the path of compromise - the path with which G-d blessed Pinchas.

Both on the individual and communal levels, we cannot run our lives, or a country, based on strict rulings that do not take into account all of the considerations. Israel's Legal Counsel [today, a woman by the name of Gali Bahrav-Miara] is just that: one who does not make decisions, but gives counsel to the government, which then takes this opinion into account as it makes its final decisions. The Legal Counsel is to present a version of the "truth," and the government must see if it can be implemented precisely as is, or whether various elements of "peace" must be sifted in so that the best decision will result. G-d is the "King who loves justice and law," we say in our prayers, and not law alone.

This approach must be adopted, for a prime example, in the controversial matter of the IDF's recruitment of Torah students and the possible overturning of decades of custom in Israel. This would seem to be an additional, profound layer of the gift of the "covenant of peace" given to Pinchas – allowing him to hold the priesthood on one hand, and to lead the army to war against the Midianites on the other. Peace is not merely the absence of war, but primarily harmony and synthesis – a balance between zealotry and the attribute of loving-kindness.

Not for naught does the Shulchan Arukh (O.C. 123,1) rule that when we recite the above-words "He Who makes peace in the Heavens," we should take three steps backwards, and turn to both sides and ask for peace amongst us as well. For in order to reach peace - such as in our family life, in the synagogue, and in the public arena - we must know that despite the truth, it is G-d's will that each side soften up and step a bit backwards. This will enable the necessary peace to "come upon us and all of Israel, and let us say Amen."

Balak: Balak and Bil'am: Fear Itself – and Joy

by Rav Netanel Yosifun, Rosh Yeshiva, Yeshivat Orot Netanya, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

The Baal Shem Tov (Besht) told the following parable: There was once a very wise king who wanted to challenge his subjects. He built many walls around his palace, one inside the other, with rivers in between them, as well as lions, tigers and bears for good measure. On the other hand, he also scattered there much silver and gold between the walls, and announced: "Whoever comes to see me, all the gold and silver he finds there is his!" Many people tried to climb the walls, but retreated as soon as they saw the wild animals. Others got up the courage, even took some money, but became more afraid as they advanced, and returned home.

But one man, who truly venerated and loved the king, paid no heed to the difficulties and dangers, because his heart burned with love within him to see and be with the king. And so he set off to climb the walls – and found that there actually were no walls; everything was imaginary. The only real thing he saw was the king on his throne, smiling and extending his hand in welcome…

With this parable, the Besht sought to teach us that the world is filled with many obstacles on the way to true service of G-d. One of them is simply the fear that we will not really be able to reach great heights. Other obstacles are our worries about making a living, which prevent us from fulfilling our potential to serve G-d. But in fact, all these and others are simply not true; they are all in our imagination. In truth, if a Jew can make sure not to scare himself, but to truly remember and know that he has the ability to rise up and fulfill his real potential – he will discover that he has the resources to serve G-d no matter what other challenges he faces, and will ultimately reach the King.

In truth, this idea is found in our weekly Torah portion of Balak [Bamidbar 22,2-25,9, to be read outside Israel only next week]. Two entities colluded in the wilderness to prevent Israel from cleaving to G-d and reaching the Holy Land, home of the Divine Presence: Moav and Midian, represented by King Balak and the Gentile prophet Bil'am. Let us consider: What were their respective motivations in seeking to harm Israel?

Regarding Moav, the Torah tells us that they were simply afraid: "The Moavites feared Israel because the people [of Israel] were so numerous" (22,3). In truth, however, they had nothing to fear; it was all in their imagination, as in the parable of the Besht. For G-d had commanded Israel straight out, "Do not attack Moav and do not provoke them to fight; I am not giving you their land…" (D'varim 2,9), meaning that the Moavites were simply scaring themselves, for no reason.

The other element in this struggle against Israel was Bil'am, who sought to harm Israel for nothing more than --- riches. He hinted at this himself, when he claimed to be subject only to G-d's word and said to Balak's messengers: "Even if Balak would give me his entire home's worth of silver and gold, I cannot violate G-d's word…" (22,18). As the Siftei Chachamim explains Rashi's commentary there, Bil'am did not say, "Even if Balak would cut off my head" or the like, but rather hinted that his true desires were for other people's money.

Thus, two phenomena joined together: One entity scares itself and allows itself to fear for no reason, and the other seeks illicit, transient wealth, and between the two of them, G-d reveals that these are both imaginary, and that Bil'am essentially has no power to curse G-d's nation, which will remain eternally blessed.

This is a very important point for us to adopt in our efforts to serve G-d and fulfill the Torah.

Who doesn't know the popular song, "Kol ha'olam kulo, gesher tzar me'od" (The entire world is a very narrow bridge)! The composer of these words was none other than Rabbe Nachman of Bresolv (Likutei Moharan Tinyana, 48). Most people know the end of the song as, "V'ha'ikar – lo lefa'ched klal" (The main thing is not to have any fear!). But in truth, Rabbe Nachman's original wording has one extra letter: not lo lefa'ched, but rather lo l'hitpa'ched, which is the reflexive form of the verb, and it means: "The main thing is not to allow yourself to fear!"

Rabbe Nachman is speaking to one who is entering the path of G-d, teaching that he must know that there will be difficulties and tests along the way, and that precisely when he wishes to take on the challenge, that is when his negative inclinations and urges will rise up and try to topple him and cause him to give up!

And therefore Rabbe Nachman says, "Know that one must pass over a very narrow bridge, and the principle rule is that he must not scare himself!" One must shake off his lack of faith in himself, and believe that he has the strength to rise up and do what is right. Rabbe Nachman continues there that one must gird himself forcefully against the Evil Inclination, and that "a true tzaddik once said that if he had heard this advice when he was just starting out, [he] would have run very eagerly to serve G-d…." 

And it is a good idea to follow what Rabbe Nachman writes at the end of the above passage, that one should seek out and find good points within himself, even a small merit or good thing, "and with that little goodness that he finds within himself, he should be very happy, and encourage himself, and not overlook it. Even if he fell into sin, even then he must strengthen himself with the small goodness that he still can find within himself, to the point where he will end up meriting via this to return to G-d completely… and the main thing is always to be in a state of happiness, even with frivolous dancing and laughter, in order to reach this state of happiness, which is a very great thing."

May we merit to strengthen and become strengthened very greatly in avodat Hashem!