Ki Tavo: The Torah's Harsh Rebuke Leads to Good Things

by Rav Dov Lior, former Chief Rabbi of Kiryat Arba and Hevron, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

The central theme of this week's Torah portion of Ki Tavo (D'varim 26,1-29,8) is the blessings and curses that Israel took upon themselves just days before the passing of Moshe Rabbeinu. This is the covenant made in the plains of Moav, since the covenant made at Horeb (Mount Sinai) nearly 40 years earlier had been broken by them.

The main point of the covenant is the belief in Divine Reward and Punishment. This is one of the foundational principles of faith, as Maimonides enumerates in his Thirteen Principles of Faith. What this requires of us is to observe what is happening around us – that which happens to myself as an individual, and even more so, what happens to our community and nation. We do not have the luxury of thinking that everything is mere coincidence. There are no coincidences, neither for the individual nor for the community; everything that happens is the result of our actions, for better or worse.

Moshe Rabbeinu, as he winds up his parting speech to the Israelites, is very harsh here in Chapter 28. Though he begins with words of blessing, most of it is what is known as tokhe'ha, sharp rebuke and threat of dire punishment if Israel does not adhere to the commandments of the Torah. In verse 59, he uses an unfamiliar term in his depiction of the plagues that could come upon us: "V'hifla [from the root meaning 'wondrous'] your punishments, terrible and relentless…"

The Medrash states: "V'hifla – I do not know what that is. But when the Prophet states, 'I will continue to mafli this nation hafle vafele, and the wisdom of its sages will be lost and the understanding of its wise men will be hidden' [Yeshayahu 29,14, using three different forms of the word in question], we see that it means the loss of tzaddikim."

That is, if Divine Providence brings upon us a plague or punishment of any kind, and there are those in our midst who know how to understand and explain to the public why and because of whom and what the punishment came, this means that the blow achieved its goal, the public will repent, and the punishment will end and disappear.

However, if the righteous have departed us, and there is no one to open the people's eyes to what is happening, then the sins, and the consequent punishments and suffering will continue to exist among us. This is what the Torah refers to here as "relentless plagues" (ne'emanot, literally meaning "faithful" and consistent); the punishments do not end but rather continue indefinitely.

We live in a period in which we cannot easily point to specific people who have the ability to open our eyes, to teach the community why and wherefore various difficulties come upon us. There is no other country in the world that is threatened by its enemies near and far with destruction simply because it exists. Our security inside and outside our homes throughout the country is not guaranteed. Any day that goes by without a terrorist attack or attempted attack is a type of miracle; regarding this, we say in our prayers, "regarding all Your miracles that are with us every day."

Sadly, however, if someone wants to comment on something having to do with the difficulties that we are experiencing, he is immediately labeled an extremist whose words should be ignored. And so we continue to tread water, with no clear path out of the international entanglement, politically and militarily. This, of course, in addition to sociological problems such as increased violence among the youth, a decline in morality, and more.

However: At this difficult time, we have the holy opportunity and mission to rise to the occasion, and redouble our efforts. We must not give in to despair or to weakness. We must rather continue even more strongly to teach and exhibit the ideals of Torah and sanctity of life, to increase our commitment one to another and to our society, and to strengthen the Jewish presence in every part of the Land of Israel. I have no doubt that if we do what we must do, there will be great Heavenly help, siyata dishmaya, and our nation will return to itself and to G-d, and we will merit to see the Redemption of our Nation and Land.

Ki Tetzei: Retrieving Our Lost Strengths

by Rav Yosef Naveh, Hassidic Educator and Torah Coach, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

This week's Torah portion of Ki Tetzei (Deuteronomy 21,10 through Chapter 25) begins with this verse: "When you go out to war with your enemy, and G-d gives him into your hand, and you take captives…"  Though this is referring to a physical enemy, as the succeeding verses indicate clearly, it can also be understood, as the saintly R. Simcha Bunem of Pshischa explained, as referring to one's personal battle with his own negative inclinations and urges.

In the work HaLekach v'HaLibuv by R. Avraham Schorr (son of R. Gedalya Schorr), he asks how "taking captives" can be understood in the context of a battle with the Yetzer Hara (Evil Inclination). He also asks why the Hebrew word here for "captives" is shivyo, implying that the captive we might take was previously captive in the hands of the enemy; how can this be understood?

R. Schorr answers as follows, based on the Sfat Emet: Later in the Torah portion, we read, 'Do not see your brother's ox or sheep wandering lost – and ignore them; return them to your brother… But if you don't know who the owner is, they shall remain with you until he comes to collect them.'" There are different types of things that a person can lose – and must later retrieve.

For in truth, every individual person is granted many strengths from Heaven – strengths of the soul and of the bodily organs – for the purpose of using them to fulfill G-d's will, to fulfill His commandments and learn His Torah. But when a person uses these abilities to satiate his own needs and lusts, or to actually violate G-d's word and will, these strengths are then taken from him, and then much hard work is needed in order to restore them to his domain.

The Talmud states (Betzah 16a): "G-d gives an 'extra soul' (neshama yetera) to a person on Sabbath eve, and it is taken from him when the Sabbath departs – as written (Sh'mot 31,17): "He ceased and rested, shavat vayinafash [the first syllable of the second word is pronounced vay, an expression of sorrow]: Once He ceased, then vay - the soul [nefesh] was lost."

The Baal Shem Tov famously asks: "The verse speaks of the beginning of the Sabbath, so why did the Sages derive from it a lesson regarding the end of the Sabbath?"

The Sfat Emet answers that when the Sabbath arrives, a person senses what he lost during the days of the week, and the thirst to find his lost spiritual items is aroused within him. That is to say, throughout the workweek, a person is lost in his This-Worldly pursuits, and he "forgets" to seek out his lost spirituality. Instead, his desires are for material matters, not those that G-d specifically wills. But on the Sabbath, the "day of souls," a person's grasp of the truth becomes stronger and he remembers that which he lost, and he says, "Vay, my true soul was lost!" And then, by remembering and searching for it, he can retrieve the lost object.

This also explains why the Torah implies here (from the word shivyo) that the "captive" was previously held in the enemy's hands: This is referring to the strengths of the soul that were lost and taken captive by the Yetzer Hara during the work-week when a person was in his weaker state.

But when a person fulfills "When you go out to war with your enemy," and charges out to fight his negative urges – he merits to restore his lost powers, and take back his captives that had been lost to the yetzer hara.

We read in Proverbs: "Distance your way from [the strange woman] ... lest strangers be sated with your strength and your labors be in the house of an alien" (5,8-10). This can be understood to mean that when one sins, strangers – external forces – come and take his strengths and become satiated from them. One who has fallen into this trap is then advised to 'You alone shall have them, and strangers shall have nothing with you" (ibid. 17). Righteous ones tell us that the Hebrew initials of the last four words in this verse spell out Elul, which is the month of repentance – telling us that when we repent completely of our sins and do good deeds, we merit that our spiritual forces remain only for ourselves ("you alone"), and will not be used by evil forces; strangers will no longer have control over them.

As stated, when one's energies have been lost to the Yetzer Hara, they are held captive by it – but when he does teshuvah and seeks back these strengths, he can restore them to his own domain.

Elul is also an acronym for other significant phrases. The Sfat Emet cites the verse (Yeshayahu 48,11), "And I will not give My glory to another" (V'chvodi L'acher Lo Eten). He explained that during the days of Elul, the gates of mercy are opened for our return to Hashem. And the most famous acronym in this regard is "I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine" (Ani L'dodi V'dodi Li, Shir HaShirim 6,3).

Therefore, the forces of evil have no ability to hide G-d's countenance; "I will not give My glory to another." For in the month of Elul, man is able to take and restore the lost spiritual forces that were in the "other's" jurisdiction. Elul is the unique time for awakening and seeking out and restoring our lost energies. This is done via the blowing of the shofar during each weekday of Elul, which arouses our will.

For G-d most certainly fulfills the commandment of "returning lost objects," as the Sages said: "A Heavenly voice goes out every day from Horev [Mt. Sinai] and declares, 'Woe unto mankind for the insult to Torah" (Pirkei Avot 6,2) – reminding us to seek out what we have lost.

And this is the special nature of the holy days of Elul: Buried within them is a unique force that arouses man from his slumber, calling on him to seek out that which he has lost over the year, in order to finally merit that which is alluded to in the verse above, "until [you] come to collect it."

Shoftim: Standing Silently By

by Rav Moshe Tzuriel ZT"L, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

Among the many mitzvot (commandments) in this week's Torah portion of Shoftim (D'varim 16,18-21,9), we read: "The testimony of one witness [regarding a crime] may not be accepted; a case must be established through the testimony of two or three witnesses" (19,15).

The Sages ask (Makkot 5b): "If the testimony of two witnesses is sufficient, why did the Torah state 'two or three'"?

Several answers are offered; let us focus on that of Rabbe Akiva, who said: "The purpose is to exact a price on the third witness, and equate his punishment to that of the first two." That is, if they are found to have lied, not only are the first two witnesses punished, but also the third one – and he cannot claim, 'My words made no difference, since there were already two witnesses, so why should I be punished?'"

The Gemara adds there: "If one who merely joins up with other sinners is punished, how much more so is one rewarded for joining up with those who do good deeds!"

In any event, we learn from this a major principle in "national education:" When the authorities commit an injustice, such as the expulsion of residents from Gush Katif and handing over parts of the Land of Israel to foreigners, it is forbidden to take part! That is, even if police and military forces have already gathered in numbers sufficient to complete the mission, and then other soldiers or police officers are recruited to take part as well, the latter cannot claim that they bear no guilt because the plan can be completed without them. Rather, anyone who joined up with the forces, in whatever role, is guilty – and must repent for this sin. His t'shuvah (repentance) must be a personal decision to never again take any part in evicting Jews from their homes, and also by publicly declaring and educating others that such a great sin must never be repeated.

I would add that we are reminded to speak about this specifically now, because the days of t'shuvah are fast approaching and every Jew must correct what he corrupted in the past.

It is interesting to note that a disagreement has developed among several of the rabbis of the religious-Zionist camp. Some say that a soldier must obey all military commands, even regarding the eviction of Jews from their homes, while others claim that it is forbidden to obey orders that directly contradict Torah law. The latter cite the Rambam, who wrote, "If the king decreed to abrogate a commandment, he is not listened to" (Laws of Kings 3,9, based on Sanhedrin 49a). Several rabbis were interviewed in the media this week who instructed their students to obey the army's orders regarding the eviction of Jews from a building in Hebron. It is puzzling to me that I did not hear any of those rabbis relate to the apparent violation of the Rambam's halakhic ruling.

It should also be noted that no Rosh Yeshivat Hesder pre-military academy head is permitted to rule on this "question," because of his personal "interests" (biases) regarding continued funding from the Ministry of Defense for his yeshiva.

Back to the fundamental point: A person will have to account in the Heavenly court for having stood by sinners, and will be punished for not having protested their acts. This concept is also seen elsewhere in the Torah, such as regarding the rebellion of Korach and his gang. When Moshe Rabbeinu heard that there was to be a Divine punishment, he declared before all, "Move away from the tents of these evil people… lest you be consumed by [the punishment for] their sins" (Bamidbar 16,26). This raises the question: Since G-d knows who is guilty and who is not, what's the difference where they all stood? G-d could have punished only those who actively rebelled!

The answer is: "Woe to an evil person, woe to his neighbor" (Mishna Nega'im 12,6). The very fact that the neighbor did not distance himself from an evil person brings upon him punishment. 

Our Sages were clear on this point: "Distance yourself from a bad neighbor" (Ethics of the Fathers 1,7). Rabbeinu Yonah explains that this means that one must not think that he can join up with the evil ones only temporarily, or even just superficially – because he could end up being punished simply for being with him and not protesting.

This of course also applies to being with people who speak gossip, slander, or impure/unclean speech. See also Proverbs 22,14, from which is learned that everyone in the vicinity of a sinner will be punished, unless they protested.

Our military failures in the Second Lebanon War, a year after the Disengagement, refute the position of those young rabbis who instructed their students not to disobey IDF orders during that expulsion of Jews. They claimed that disobeying orders would weaken the IDF. But look at what happened: The result was exactly the opposite of what they thought!

Contrast this with the ruling of the venerable Rabbi Dov Lior about a month ago: When religious soldiers received an order to join the IDF forces preventing citizens from marching on foot to the destroyed settlement of Homesh, they asked his counsel whether to obey the instructions. He answered them that the role of the IDF is to protect us from our foreign enemies, and that it is not its role to prevent Jews from settling their land, and that using the soldiers for this purpose is a political and invalid use of the IDF by the authorities.

How fortunate we are that it is in our power to correct the past through repentance.

Re'eh: The King is in the Field, Ready to Receive Us

by Rav David Dov Levanon, former President of the Jerusalem Rabbinical Court, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

The month of Elul is approaching, and this Shabbat we will recite the prayer for blessing, peace, sustenance, and all good things during the coming month. In fact, we recite this prayer on the Sabbath before almost every month, which is why we call these Shabbatot the Sabbaths of mevarchim, "[reciting] blessings."

This week, we read the Torah portion of Re'eh (D'varim 11,26-16,17), which begins with a critical choice that G-d places before us: "See, I place before you today blessing and curse [on Mounts Gerizim and Eval, respectively]: the blessing is that you hear [in order to fulfill] the mitzvot…] and the curse is if you do not…" (11,27-28).

The straightforward meaning is that the very hearing of G-d's word is the blessing. And in fact, this remains the theme from here on for several Torah portions. That is, physical and material blessings are promised us only in Parashat Ki Tavo (D'varim 28), while the primary blessing is in simply listening to G-d's words.

The Alter Chabad Rebbe of Liadi wrote in his work "Likutei Torah" of the greatness and loftiness of the month of Elul, during which the Thirteen Attributes of Mercy shine. He even asked: "Why are these days not celebrated as a Festival just like Yom Kippur?" He answered that the days of Elul are days in which "the King is in the field," meaning that it is possible to meet Him anywhere, even while wearing the weekday clothes used for working in the field. That is, the Shechinah (Divine Presence) dwells within Elul, even though it consists of regular weekdays.

It would seem appropriate to explain this parable of "the King is in the field" in connection to Elul and based on a parable in a Medrash cited by the Tur (Orach Chaim 581):

"A city once owed taxes to the king but did not pay him. He came to them with an army to collect it. When he approached within ten parsahs [a unit of distance], the elders came out to greet him, and said, 'We have nothing with which to pay you.' The King granted them a discount of one-third. When he came closer, the middle-level leaders came, and he discounted them another third. Finally, when the King came very close, the entire town came out to greet him, and he erased the final third of the debt. So too, Hashem our King: The townspeople commit sins throughout the year, and then before Rosh HaShanah, the elders fast, and G-d forgives them a third of their sins; during the Ten Days of Repentance, the "in-betweens" fast, and G-d forgives them another third; and on Yom Kippur, everyone fasts, and He forgives them for everything…"

In the parable, the king has left his palace - analogous to the fact that the Holy Temple has been destroyed and the Shechinah itself is in Exile. The time for this, of course, is Tisha B'Av – right after which begin the Seven Weeks of Consolation, in which the King returns to His children and commiserates with them, striving to return to His home.

With this, we see that the words of the Medrash shine with meaning: In the month of Elul, the King is in the field, walking towards His sanctuary, in anticipation that his subjects will come towards Him, He will forgive their sins, and He will renew His kingship over them for goodness and blessing. This explains why the Likutei Torah added that the greatness of the days of Elul lies in the fact that "the King is in the field" – He is in movement, hoping for reconciliation and anticipating that his people will come meet Him. These days are therefore even more exalted than when the King is in His palace, hidden and concealed from all eyes, making it difficult for us to draw close to Him.

Another concept regarding the parable of "the King is in the field" stems from a comparison between Rosh Hashanah and the first day of Nissan, six months later. Nissan is the month in which the miracles of the Exodus from Egypt occurred; hence its name "Nissan" (from Nissim, Hebrew for "miracles"). This is the month in which Israel proudly and gloriously left Egypt, a month attributed to the Jewish people, and also the "head of months," symbolizing renewal and reinvention, just like the birth of the new moon.

In contrast, Tishrei is the beginning of the natural year; summer has ended and the winter is arriving once again. This "new year" hints at the natural world, influenced by the sun, the great driving force of nature. This is why Rosh Hashanah applies to all inhabitants of the world, the day on which the year's rains and personal sustenance are decreed. As such, the commandment of the day on Rosh Hashanah is to crown G-d over the entire universe, meaning over the natural world as well.

Our Sages (Tr. Rosh HaShanah 10b) differed as to the month of the Final Redemption: R. Eliezer says it will be in Tishrei, when the world was created, for he verses feature shofar both on Rosh HaShanah and in the great shofar blast of Future Days. R. Yehoshua says it will be in Nissan, based on Sh'mot 12,42 that speaks of the Exodus night as a 'night of watching' – a reference to a night that was watched and anticipated ever since Creation.

These opinions correspond to the two paths of redemption: miraculous, via the clouds of the heavens, and natural, with the Messiah arriving on a donkey. It would seem that the miraculous Redemption is appropriate for the month of Nissan, the month of miraculous salvations, when Israel merited to be like tzaddikim. But if we do not merit this, because of our sins, we require the month of Tshuvah (repentance), and then the Redemption will be via natural means, as is appropriate for Tishrei. It appears that the type of worship and service required for this is the knowledge that "the King is in the field" – He is everywhere, including in the natural world. And this is the preparation required of us before Rosh HaShanah, the day of judgement for the world of nature.

This returns us to the verses with which we opened, which require sharp and clear seeing and hearing! This is because the Torah is referring to the blessing found in the work of our hands, by virtue of the fact that we strive to contemplate and find G-d's Providence upon us in everything we do.

Ekev: True Trust: Not What it Sounds Like

by Rav Ariel Farajun, Individual and Couples Therapist, Former Rosh Yeshiva, and Senior Lecturer in Jewish Psychology, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

Moshe Rabbeinu continues his parting speech to the Children of Israel in this week's Torah portion of Ekev (D'varim 7,12-11,25). This is just before his death and as the nation is about to enter the promised Land of Israel without him. As he emphasizes the importance of keeping the Torah as they begin their national life in the Holy Land, one of the important points Moshe makes is that of bitachon, trust in G-d's providence over Israel.

Moshe says here: "If you say in your heart: 'These nations are stronger than me, how will I be able to defeat them?' Do not fear them; remember that which Hashem your G-d did to Pharaoh and all of Egypt… Do not cringe before them, for Hashem is in your midst, great and awesome…" (7,17-21).

And a bit further on we read: "Hear O Israel, you are passing today over the Jordan to come and inherit nations that are greater than you… Make sure to know today that Hashem is the One Who passes before you, a consuming fire; He will destroy them before you…" (9,1-3)

The mitzvah of having bitachon is a great fundamental in the service of G-d. It is mentioned numerous times in the Torah, and rolls around frequently on our tongues in everyday speech. Yet is seems that its precise definition, even though it is discussed at length among our early commentators, still requires elaboration and precision.

The primary thing we must emphasize is that, contrary to popular misconception, bitachon does not mean to trust in G-d that He will definitely do that which we are hoping for. Rather, it is that we pray and hope to Him, and rely on Him. Perhaps this can be understood on a lesser level in the manner that we feel about having a gun: One who goes into a dangerous neighborhood armed with a gun trusts in it not because it will definitely save him, but rather because it gives him reason to hope…

This is why our Sages always combine bitachon with prayer, which is in fact considered the ultimate expression of bitachon (see for instance, Mechilta D'Rebbe Yishmael, Bshalach 2). In addition, one must always take into account his own sins and know that these have an effect on whether his prayers will be answered. To know that G-d might not grant his wishes is not a lack of bitachon; on the contrary, one who knows that his salvation is in G-d's hands will realize that his own deeds and attitude to G-d are very instrumental. And then, after one truly views the world in this manner, he can feel confident that G-d will protect him and grant him that which is best for him.

Thus, when one is in great need or trouble, he must not strengthen his bitachon by saying that everything will certainly turn out fine. Rather, he must concentrate his thoughts on the fact that Hashem rules His world, and that "no one stubs his finger below unless it was determined beforehand in Heaven" (Tr. Chullin 7b). Internalizing this reality is the true measure of one's bitachon.

At the same time, the Torah does not at all negate one's physical efforts. In fact, we are commanded to work together with the natural law that G-d imbued in His world. This must be done with the understanding that it is not these efforts that will make the ultimate difference, but rather with the idea that G-d's will is that we make both spiritual and physical efforts to achieve the goals for which we strive.

This Torah portion of Ekev comes to warn us that we must remember that G-d fights for us against our enemies, no matter how much stronger they are, and also gives us the strength to succeed. This message is not simply meant to calm and relax us, but rather to teach us how to use the weapons we have. When we understand that the battle is determined by G-d's will, and that our efforts are merely part of the Divine game – this means we have true bitachon, and in this merit, G-d will be with us, no matter what qualitative or quantitative advantages we face!

Ekev: The Laws, Statutes, and "Smart Ideas"

by Rav Avraham Tzuckerman, the late co-founder with Rabbi Moshe Tzvi Neriah of Kfar HaRoeh, the first modern Yeshiva High School, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

The commandments of the Torah include Chukim (statutes), Mitzvot (commandments), and Mishpatim (often translated as "ordinances").

Chukim are laws between man and God that our intellect is incapable of explaining. Mitzvot are commandments that set the norms of Jewish community life; we ourselves might not have established them, but we understand their rationale. Mishpatim are laws between man and his fellow man that, even if the Torah had not commanded us to follow them, we would have established them ourselves to regulate daily life.

The final verse in last week's Torah portion mentions all three of these, while interestingly, the first verse in this week's portion of Ekev mentions only the Mishpatim: "If you adhere to these Mishpatim, and safeguard and observe them, G-d will remember for you the Covenant and kindness that He swore to your forefathers" (D'varim 7,12). Logically speaking, it should have been the opposite: Such a beautiful promise of reward should have been given us if we follow the Chukim and the Mitzvot, which human logic either cannot grasp or would not have grasped. But why do we deserve such Divine reward for simply following mitzvot that are so logical that we would have instituted them on our own?

We read in Tehillim: "The laws (mishpatim) of G-d are truth, righteous together" (19,10). This tells us that that there is a measure of "statute" even in our logical laws, and there is also logic in the statutes. Similarly with the mitzvot that come to remember important principles, such as Passover and Sabbath, there are elements of logic and illogic together. He who truly understands the depth of "there is no singularity like ours" can also understand the true depth of all the mitzvot, including those between man and man; they are more than simply "smart ideas."

This also explains that even regarding laws that the nations of the world also follow exactly as the Torah commands, we may not be judged by them in their courts. As King David wrote, "His statutes and laws are for Israel… the other nations do not know the laws" (Tehillim 147,18-19); they cannot grasp the inner meaning of the laws of the Torah. This is why we read here: "If you adhere to these Mishpatim… G-d will remember for you the Covenant and kindness that He swore to your forefathers."

Furthermore: The word used here at the beginning of Ekev signifies that we are to keep the mitzvot with joy and happiness, in which case "G-d will remember for you the Covenant and kindness." And as we saw, this applies specifically to the Mishpatim; the Chukim and other commandments were not mentioned here. This is because the latter are unique and Divinely-ordained, and people keep them more "religiously;" they are not routine for us. But the inter-personal laws, such as ensuring not to insult others or embarrass them, are easily overlooked – and it is these that bring the promise of remembering the Divine covenant and kindness that was promised to our Forefathers. For it was specifically these that our Patriarch Abraham made sure to pass down to his descendants: "For I know him that he will command his household after him, and they will keep G-d's way to do charity and mishpat" (B'reshit 18,19).

And therefore it brings joy before G-d when the seed of his beloved Avraham are careful to observe mitzvot that might become rote and fulfill them with joy. And just as it was the way of the Forefathers to practice charity and "mishpat" – charity and righteousness in their dealings with others, while demanding "mishpat" and meticulousness from themselves – this is what is demanded from us, their offspring, as well. As the Sages derive from the first verse in Ekev: "If you adhere" – the word Ekev is used here, which also means "heel," implying that we must specifically fulfill the mitzvot that we might otherwise generally kick aside with our heels and not attribute them much importance.

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!