Shevi’i Shel Pesach (Seventh Day
of Passover)—April 18, 1941

“. . . They had faith in God and in Moses His servant. Then Moses and the Children of Israel sang this song to God, saying, ‘I will sing to God for He is very great . . . This is my God and I will glorify Him . . .’” (Exodus 14:31, 15:1–21)

We learn the following in the Midrash (Cant. Rabbah, cap. 2:4): “In former times, if one dared point a finger at an icon, punishment was sure to follow. But these days, someone may lay hands upon mention of the Divine Name numerous times and go unharmed.” If a person pointed his finger at a representation of a human, flesh-and-blood monarch, he could expect to be punished for lese-majeste. Yet, today, when someone touches one of the Holy Names of God, he does not expect divine retribution. What this Midrash is suggesting is essentially this: The Names of God are, as it were, pictographs or icons of God.

It is taught numerous times in the Holy Zohar that both before the creation of a person and after his death, he stands before God in the very same physical shape and form that he occupies in this world. This is because the physical shape and form we inhabit is a reflection, revealing the shape of a divine soul, that has passed through a chain of hishtalshelut—the processes of transition from the purest, simplest, undifferentiated “Breath of God” into the complex biophysical matrix of the body.

The flesh and bones of the face are merely the media through which the shape of the face is expressed, while the shape of the face itself is the medium through which the shape of the soul is revealed. Think of pigments used to paint the portrait of a wise man. If, when looking at the finished portrait, we think they truly portray the wise man, we do not mean that it is merely a good likeness of that person’s shape. What we mean is that even his wisdom can be seen in the picture of his face. The pigments used in the portrait actually convey to the viewer something profound about the soul and wisdom of the subject. Something about the shape of the wise man’s soul is being revealed through the pigments, even though the colors themselves are just a medium.

The shape underlying the face and of which the face is a reflection, is the soul revealing itself. This is why a person’s wisdom shines on his face, and as he becomes wiser his face changes. So before he is born and after he dies, when he stands in heaven it is in his own shape, because his physical form is the shape of his soul.

The case is similar with regard to the Holy Names of God. The ink used to write the letters is just a medium through which we depict the letters. Why are the letters these specific shapes and no other? What are these particular shapes? They are the specific shapes that convey the essence of God through the chain of hishtalshelut, the processes of transition whereby the Lights of Divine Holiness are revealed in this world. Thus the written forms of the Holy Names are, as it were, icons of God.

There is a well-known teaching found in the Shaarei Orah (Gates of Light, caps. 1 and 5) on the verse (Psalms 19:9) that says: “Commandments of God are perfect; they delight the heart.” The Shaarei Orah notes that the Hebrew word for “commandments” used in the text of the psalm is pikudei, usually translated as “number,” “count,” or “point.” It asserts that the whole text of the Torah is a series of permutations of the Divine Name of God. The whole Torah is a fabric woven from Holy Names in acrostic, anagram, notariqon, gematria, etc., form.

Perhaps from this, we can understand a little of the following. The Talmud (Shabbath 104a) says: “Children came and spoke, divulging mysteries the like of which were not revealed even in the days of Joshua b. Nun. ‘Why does the Hebrew letter gimmel put out its leg toward the daleth?’ they asked. ‘Because gimmel means “to give” and daleth means “poverty,” so the gimmel is giving something to the daleth.’ ‘Why then does the daleth turn its head away from the gimmel?’ ‘Because the daleth is ashamed of having to accept alms.’ ‘Why does it stick out its hand behind it?’ ‘So that the gimmel can give without having to look into the face of the recipient.’ . . .”

The Talmud continues; “these children” went through the entire Hebrew alphabet revealing mysteries. Why does the Talmud call them “children” if they were indeed revealing Torah, unparalleled even during the days of Joshua son of Nun?

We know that God teaches Torah to His people Israel. We need to understand, however, whether this means that every time a person learns Torah he is being taught by God, or if God teaches him directly only on particular occasions.

Let us examine how God learned Torah with Moses our teacher, because we shall never find a greater Torah scholar than Moses. It appears evident from the Talmud (Megillah 21a) that it was only when Moses learned something for the first time that God taught him directly. When Moses revised what he had learned, he was studying by himself. The Talmud asks the following question: “One verse (Deut. 9:9) quoting Moses says, ‘I sat upon the mountain forty days and forty nights,’ while another verse (Deut. 10:10) quoting Moses says, ‘I stood upon the mountain like those first days, forty days and forty nights.’ Rav answered, ‘Moses stood and learned, while when he sat, he revised.’ ” Rashi (ibid.) comments: “When Moses was learning, it was from the mouth of the Almighty. When he was revising, it was Moses revising alone what he had learned from God.”

However, the Midrash (Exodus Rabba, Ki Thissa, 41:5) on the verse (Exodus 31:18) “When God finished speaking with Moses . . .” says as follows: “When Moses first ascended Mount Sinai into Heaven, he repeated the Torah verbatim, after his Creator. Once he was proficient in it however, God said to him: ‘Come, you and I, let us say it together.’ This is the real meaning of the phrase ‘God finished speaking with Moses.’ They repeated it together.”

Rav in the Talmud and the Midrash in Exodus both agree that it was only while Moses was learning something new that God taught him directly, as a teacher would a student. When Moses was revising what he already knew, however, there is a dispute: According to Rav in the Talmud (Megillah 21a), Moses revised quite by himself, while according to the Midrash, Moses and God continued to study together as study partners.

It is therefore, exactly like this that God learns Torah with us.

In the Talmud (Ta’anith 7a, Makkoth 10a) Rebbe says: “I have learned much from my teachers, even more from my colleagues, but from my disciples, I have learned most of all.”

Whenever we learn something new, and God as the “Teacher of Torah to Israel” is our teacher, then in heaven there is a greater revelation of Torah. Even though the whole Torah belongs to God, the greater revelation of Torah in the upper worlds occurs when God teaches something new to a human.

In the book Pardes Rimonim (Orchard of Pomegranates, cap. “Gates of the Clear Light”), R. Moses Cordovero discusses the difference between a thought that has been articulated and a thought that has not yet been articulated. “Once a thought has been made manifest in this world, then in heaven that idea stands revealed in a whole new way. Once a person has drawn a sketch, his grasp of the concept that the sketch depicts becomes much more powerful.”

Therefore, when a child learns the shapes of the Hebrew letters for the first time, there is fresh revelation in heaven concerning these letters. And this fresh revelation, occurring in heaven through the child’s learning of the letters, is drawn downwards, so the child draws down upon himself a fresh revelation as to the meaning of the shapes of the letters.

This is not the case with adults, who are too familiar with the shapes of the letters. When we look at them we are not learning anything new, so we do not have God teaching us anything directly. The only revelation we can inspire in the upper worlds is in the meaning of the text of the Torah, in the P’Shat. When the Talmud described “children” who explained the mystical meanings in the shapes of the letters, it was actually referring to holy people who could approach the text as children. They brought about revelation even in the shape of the letters, and not just in the meaning of the text. They could still learn like children, and so were able to look at the alef and beth and gimmel and ask, “Why is the leg of the gimmel stretched out toward the daleth?”

Therefore, every time a person revises Torah that he has already learned, he must learn something new from it, delving deeper into it so that God is given the chance to be the teacher again. Only when something new is learned—when one learns with God and directly from Him—can a fresh revelation occur in heaven, bringing down a new revelation upon the student who is learning in this world.

We must learn something from everything that God does. For example, if the Jewish Court sentenced someone to the punishment of a flogging, that sentencing was Torah. The decision to punish was made in the same way that all Torah is studied and decisions concluded. So, the suffering God punishes us with is also Torah, and if a person can learn something from his suffering, then God can be his Torah teacher for that period of time. We know that God learns most of all from His students, so there occurs a revelation above and below. In the fresh revelation there is a negation of hester panim (hiding of the Divine Face) and so all the judgments are sweetened.

What can be learned from pain? To begin with, we can learn faith in God and a continuing and powerful belief that God will save us. We can learn how far we need to go to brace ourselves, over and over again, to put our trust and hope in God in the midst of the pain.

We can learn from the fact that the Red Sea did not split for Israel until the whole tribe of Benjamin had jumped in. Nachshon b. Aminadav went into the water until it rose above his nostrils, as is well known from the Midrash. Why was such a leap of faith necessary? When the Jews stood before the sea, God said to Moses (Exodus 14:15), “Why cry to Me? Speak to the Jews, and tell them to start walking.” Rashi (ibid.) explains: “ ‘The faith the Jewish people have put in Me,’ says God, ‘in leaving Egypt and following Me into the wilderness, is sufficient to merit splitting the Red Sea for them.’ ”

Similarly, Rashi explains another verse (Exodus 14:1–4): “God spoke to Moses, saying, ‘Tell the Jewish people to turn around and encamp in front of Pi Hachiroth. . . . Pharaoh will say, “They are trapped, the wilderness has them surrounded.” I will harden Pharaoh’s heart and he will pursue them and I will be glorified through Pharaoh and all his armies, and Egypt will know that I am God.’ And they [the Jewish people] did so.” Rashi comments: “They didn’t say, ‘How can we meet our pursuers head on? We need to run,’ which shows even greater faith in God than simply following God into the wilderness.”

From this we can learn that moments of great danger and trouble are also times when we are being tested from heaven. Can our faith redouble and take on yet more strength? The Jewish people had faith. We left Egypt and walked into the desert, then were told to go back and face the Egyptians, our pursuers, which tested our faith even further. Then to add to our troubles we were faced with the Red Sea, as a test to strengthen our faith, bolstering it with a trust even more powerful, until we could jump into the sea and into the danger, up to our nostrils. Only then did God save the Jewish people.

It is not just faith that we need to learn in a time of danger and a time of trouble. As it says in the Holy Zohar (vol. III, p. 168G), “If wood won’t catch fire, then keep stamping on it until it does catch fire.” As we have already said elsewhere, if a person faints, we pummel him and slap him to bring him back to life. It may be that the only way to strengthen and revive him is to belabor him still more. So must we respond when we are in trouble. Of course we must pray to God to help us immediately, but at the same time we must take encouragement and resolve to strengthen our worship of God from the very kicking and beatings we endure, because they come from heaven as a means of waking us up from our state of unconsciousness.

In the Midrash (Cant. Rabbah, cap. 4:6) we learn: God says, “The Temple in its destruction gave Me more holy people than it produced during the time that it stood.” The destruction and suffering are a Torah that God is teaching us. This teaching brings about revelation above and below, a sweetening of the judgments, and a drawing down of mercy, as we have explained above.

This is the meaning of the verse with which we opened this chapter, “They had faith in God and in Moses His servant.” We learn in the Midrash (Cant. Rabbah 4:2) about this verse, that it is the Torah testifying that the Jewish people had this faith even while they were still in Egypt. That is why they said, “I will sing to God . . .” They were prophesying about the future when they said “This is my God, and I will glorify him.” They used the Hebrew name for God, El-i, which is the manifestation of loving-kindness. They had the right to say “This is my God,” because the revelation of God as loving-kindness was drawn down through their faith in God even during the suffering in Egypt.

Now at this time, when our troubles are bitter beyond belief, God should have mercy on us and save us in the blink of an eye, when we continue to believe. Our belief creates an image of God that is a revelation above and below, and in God we will find strength, and we will believe, and we will hope, and in a moment He will save us. Amen.