Lamplighter

A joyous farbrengen was held one evening at the humble home of Rabbi Shmuel Betzalel Sheftel (The 'Rashbatz'). For hours the group of Chassidim sat, toasting L'chaim's, singing, talking, rebuking and inspiring one another. As the clock marked the passing of the night, the meager platters of 'Farbeisen' (food with which to follow up the L'chaim vodka) ran out, so Rabbi Shmuel Betzalel instructed that the lamb being raised in his yard be slaughtered. A hot stew was prepared to fuel the Farbeisen for many an hour to come.

The next morning Rabbi Shmuel Betzalel's wife came in from the yard with the distressing news that the lamb – which constituted the whole of the 'family ranch' – had disappeared! Said Rabbi Shmuel Betzalel: "No, no, the lamb has not disappeared, the lamb is very much here, it has only changed its sound. Yesterday it said meh-eh-eh. . . today it is saying Echo-o-d. . ., O-o-one. . . " (as in G‑d is one).

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“Man does not live by bread alone, but by all that emanates from the mouth of G‑d does man live.” (Deuteronomy 8:3)

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Did you ever wonder how it is that the highest life forms on planet earth are sustained by the lowlier levels of existence? Is it not strange that man should depend on animals, plants, and minerals for his vitality and nutrition? This question has not escaped the probing eye of the Chassidic masters.

All of nature is divided into four general categories, or worlds: mineral, vegetable, animal and human. There is a substantial difference between a grain of sand and a grain of wheat, or between a flower and a bee, or between a clueless animal and a homosapiance. There is obviously an even greater gap between the lowest in the scale of created matter (minerals) and the highest (man).

According to the natural order of things, the strong are meant to support the weak; the rich can support the poor, not the other way around (not intended as an endorsement of any political ideology or agenda). Therefore it is hard to understand why in the case of nutrition things appear to work the other way around. In what has been dubbed the “Food chain,” the lower creatures support the higher creatures, (not just with a contribution, they expect a total commitment). The mineral/soil realm for example, supports the vegetable kingdom; the vegetable supports the animal kingdom and all three serve to support man.

Bread, for instance, has no life; no mental or intellectual qualities, yet when a person eats bread as well as other foods, it is not only transformed into human flesh and blood, which is in itself an incredible transformation, but also into extraordinary cells of tissue that comprise the human brain, allowing a person to think and to speak.

A child feeding on cereals and other foods grows and develops not just bodily but mentally and spiritually as well. How is this possible? Does bread have mental and spiritual qualities that are passed along to its consumer?

By way of explanation of this deserving question the masters recall the basic principle of Kabbalah that there is a “Spark of G‑dliness” at the core of every created being.  Nothing in the world could exist without having a nucleus of G‑dliness. This Divine spark sustains a given objet; imbuing it with its own unique qualities and characteristics.

When we eat food, our bodies are nurtured by the physical components of the food, while our soul is nurtured by the Divine nucleus. This, then, is the meaning of the statement in our Parsha, Eikev – we do not survive only because of the physical component of bread, but by the Divine word that is within it.

Yet the question seems to linger: How can the “Spark” of something lowly, by comparison, sustain and enliven that which is far superior? This conundrum is actually entirely dissolved in face of the Chassidic view regarding the nature of the vital spark contained within creation. “The lower a thing is,” maintains Chassidus, “The higher its spiritual core, since the sparks contained in the so-called ‘lower’ tiers of creation are actually loftier than that of the higher realms.”

The aforementioned revolutionary axiom, and its broad implications vis-à-vis reality, life and matter, is based on the Kabbalistic assertion that our world – referred to as the world of Tikun (repair) – is the byproduct of a primordial world by the name of Tohu. The collapse of the world of Tohu, as the result of an explosion, has given birth to our world of Tikun. (now, is that where the “Big Bang” theory comes from?)

It is not unlike the physical order of nature, maintain the mystics. When a wall collapses, the uppermost stones fall the farthest, it is similarly the case with the “collapse” of the world of Tohu. The loftiest sparks of the Divine creative force fell farthest from their source and were incarnated within the most mundane creations of our world. This is what Kabbala alludes to in its reference to the 288 Sparks of the world of Tohu that fell after the collapse of that world and the shattering of its Sefirot.

To our eyes, man is the most spiritual of earthly creatures, the animal exhibits a more sophisticated vitality than the plant, and the mineral shows no outward signs of life at all. In essence however, the sublimity of the spark of Divine life in an object is in converse relation to its manifest spiritual status. Thus the mineral has the energy to nourish the vegetable, both contain the nutrition to nourish the animal, and all three sustain human life.

This can be better understood upon contemplation of the power of the “G‑dly word,” so to speak. When G‑d willed to create the universe, there was nothing at first, G‑d created everything out of nothing by saying: "Let there be . . .;” ten utterances in all. The process of creation continues ever since, as we say in our prayers: "In His goodness He renews each day the work of Creation."

 If G‑d should withdraw His "Word" for one instant, everything would lapse back to nothingness as before Creation. It is hence the "Word" of G‑d which is the real bread of life. It is that which issues from G‑d's mouth" that gives life, with all the mental and spiritual qualities to the human being eating it.

This is the meaning of a statement made by the renown Kabbalist; the saintly Ari, that everything, even the "lifeless" objects, such as stones, has a "soul" – a Divine "word," "will," or "power" – hidden within, which is its true essence. It is not physical matter which gives and sustains life. It is not the carbohydrates, proteins, minerals, etc in the bread that sustains man but rather the Divine essence that is hidden in every particle of matter – the "word" of G‑d which created it out of nothing and constantly says to it.

It is this "word" of G‑d which is the real life spark, while the physical matter is but an outer "shell," very much like our body is the outer shell or frame for our inner and hidden soul. It is hence no longer a mystery that the mineral would have the energy to nourish the vegetable, the animal, and even the life of us humans.

The above stated axiom is part of a larger Jewish weltanschauung on life. It supports and is supported by a series of critical components which comprise Judaism’s delicate theological echo system.

For example, the aforementioned converse perspective of a things true significance supports and dovetails a number of other unique Jewish tenets, particularly that of “Hashgacha Protis” (Divine Providence), the notion that G‑d’s Divine oversight extends to every minute particle of matter.

The realization of the fact that at the root and core of everything there is nothing but G‑d and His word, will inevitably lead to a deeper appreciation of G‑d's essential unity, which in turn will bolster the awareness of how much closer we are to G‑d than we could imagine. Knowing these truths, and living up to them in our daily life, is the deeper meaning of the statement in our Parsha: "Not by bread alone does man live. . ."

Most important of all however is the awareness of the fact that only man has the capacity to direct the vital energy within himself toward a G‑dly end. For man alone has been granted the gift of free choice. The animal, vegetable, or mineral cannot sin; their conformity with the Divine will is instinctual and inevitable, and thus devoid of moral significance. Only man can elect to do good and, by the force of his deeds, transcend the creature state to achieve intimacy with the Divine.

So, when man consumes the resources of the physical world, a bilateral transformation takes place. The slice of bread, piece of meat or glass of water confer their superior vitality to the person, imparting to him a spiritual potential that he does not himself possess. At the same time, if the person utilizes this vitality to perform a Divine deed, he elevates the plant, animal, or mineral he has consumed, releasing its vital soul from its mundane encasement, reuniting it with its Divine source.

The phrase "Man does not live by bread alone" related in our Parsha has become a familiar refrain. Less familiar however is the end of the verse: "Rather by everything that emanates from the mouth of G‑d does man live." So, if the point here is that G‑d's emanations are the source of our lives, why talk about bread at all? Bread after all only becomes edible through the toils of man? Wouldn't fruits be a better example of G‑d's astounding power to create and sustain the universe on all levels?

According to our earlier discussion, however, the use of bread as the object of choice is rather consistent, as bread exemplifies the toil of man. The message here is that just as with bread we must perceive the inner “Word of G‑d “ – the G‑dly source and purpose, so too with all the labors of our hands must we seek out the embedded “Word of his G‑d” – the spiritual source and purpose.

In the above light it is clear that man’s every action has significance beyond what the eye can ever behold. A person’s spiritual mission is to introduce holiness and spirituality into all parts of the world subject to his influence. He must reveal the G‑dly essence in all things – animal, vegetable and mineral – in which he comes into contact.

When man realizes his obligation under heaven – when he lives-up to his G‑dly potential, not only does his purpose come into fruition but the entire universe does as well. Conversely, should man neglect his responsibility, he negates not just his own purpose and raison d’être but that of all lower orders of creation brought into existence to serve him.

“Walking in the street one must think words of Torah,” says the Lubavitcher Rebbe. (“Whether to actually pronounce the words depends on the place, if one is permitted according to Torah law to utter words of Torah there.) But when someone goes about not occupied with Torah words, the stone he treads on exclaims: "Bulach! (‘Clod', in Russian) How dare you trample me! How are you any higher than I am?" (Hayom Yom, 7 Adar II).

Through our efforts in serving G‑d through all our actions, as the verse states: “In all your ways, you shall know Him,” we will certainly transform this world into a G‑dly vessel which will precipitate the Messianic era, BBA.

Cold Feet

Between coldness and heresy stands an extremely thin wall. It is written: "For G‑d your G‑d is a consuming fire" - G‑dliness is a blazing flame. Torah study and prayer require a flaming heart, so that "all my bones should proclaim" the words of G‑d. (Rabbi Sholom DovBer of Lubavitch)

Rabbi Nechemia of Dubrovna told:

I once saw a Russian soldier being whipped. His crime? While standing watch on a winter night, his feet had frozen in their boots. "Had you remembered the oath you took to serve the czar," his commander berated him, "the memory would have kept you warm."

"For 25 years," concluded Reb Nechemia, "this incident inspired my service of the Almighty."

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Why is the Ketubah written in Aramaic?

The Ketubah is the marriage contract that outlines the obligations of the husband to his wife, as well as the financial compensation due to the wife in the event of the marriage’s dissolution through divorce or widowhood. Similar to a Get (divorce document), the Ketubah is traditionally written in Aramaic, the common language of the Jews during Talmudic times. Why was it originally written in Aramaic, not Hebrew? And why is it still written in that language today, when most of us are more proficient in English or another language? Precise Legal Language The importance of the Ketubah’s precise and exact language cannot be overstated, due to the legal nature of the Ketubah as well as its deeper spiritual significance. In fact, having a properly written kosher Ketubah is so critical—not just to the marriage ceremony itself, but to married life in general—that it is problematic for a couple to live together, even temporarily, without a kosher Ketubah. (In the event that the document is lost or destroyed, or if a serious error is found in its text, the couple must immediately obtain a replacement from a rabbi.) For centuries, going back to Talmudic times, the sages have pored over the Aramaic Ketubah formula, ensuring that each word is precise, and especially looking out for words that may have multiple meanings. As with contemporary contracts, the more important the contract, the more experts you’d have review the language to tighten it and make sure it is precise. So it is no wonder that the contract for marriage, one of the most important and monumental steps that one takes in life, bonding two half-souls into one union, needs to have extremely precise language. Thus, we use the traditional Aramaic text, which has gone through the rigor of centuries of Talmudic scholars. Translations of the Ketubah Although it is theoretically possible to have a Get or Ketubah in another language—if written precisely, in accordance with all the relevant laws, etc.—halachah only permits this in extreme situations. To be sure, there are many translations of the Ketubah, both in English and Hebrew (including on our site). And since the Ketubah is a legal document, one should certainly read a translation to understand what is written in it (or at the very least, have the rabbi explain the basics of the document). Nevertheless, the actual Ketubah used for the marriage should be the traditional text, ensuring that it is precise and kosher. A Semi-Holy Language Aside from the legal aspect of the Ketubah, there are deeper reasons for the Aramaic as well. The Ketubah has been written in Aramaic going back to Second Temple times, imbuing the text with holiness and the tradition of our ancestors. Thus, using the traditional Aramaic text of the Ketubah links us and our future family to our ancestors’ rich and illustrious heritage. The Ketubah and the Get are actually written in Aramaic with a sprinkling of Hebrew. A document that alternates between two languages is generally invalid. So why is it OK here? Among other explanations, Rabbi Moses Isserlis explains that Aramaic has a certain holiness to it (going back to Mount Sinai ) and can therefore go together with Hebrew, “the Holy Tongue.” In fact, parts of the Bible itself, as well as the Oral Torah as recorded in the Talmud, are written in Aramaic. Furthermore, some of the special prayers, such as the Kaddish, are also recited in Aramaic, signifying that Aramaic is considered a special and unique language. But why was Aramaic chosen over Hebrew? The Angels Do Not Understand On a homiletic level, many cite a Midrash regarding the time before G‑d gave the Jewish people the Torah. Wishing to keep the Torah in Heaven, some angels claimed that mere mortals could not be trusted to study the Torah. In reply, G‑d promised that the Jewish men would occupy themselves with learning Torah. Yet, in the text of the Ketubah, the Jewish men accept upon themselves unconditionally to work their very hardest to support their wives. This can theoretically be used by the angels to bolster their case that the Jews cannot be relied upon to study Torah assiduously. The sages teach us that the angels understand all languages except for Aramaic. Thus, some explain, by writing it in Aramaic we prevent the angels from using the Ketubah in their argument. A Foundation of Peace In a somewhat similar vein, some cite another Midrash. When the time came for G‑d to create Adam, G‑d “consulted” the ministering angels. The Angel of Truth said, “Don’t create humans, for they will be full of lies.” The Angel of Peace said, “Do not create them, for they will be in constant strife!” What did G‑d do? He grabbed the Angel of Truth and hurled him to the earth. While that took care of the Angel of Truth, the commentaries ask, how did G‑d contend with the Angel of Peace? The commentaries explain that, based on the halachah that one is allowed to bend the truth to keep the peace, now that the need for absolute truth had been thrown down, it was possible to maintain peace. However, part of the text of the Ketubah reads, “I will work, honor, feed and support you in the custom of Jewish men, who work, honor, feed and support their wives faithfully.” The Aramic word translated as “faithfully,” בקושטא, literally means “in truth.” Thus, when we are creating a union that will, with the help of G‑d, result in more of mankind, we are stating that it will be with truth. This gives room for the Angel of Peace to again raise objections that there will be a lack of peace. To avoid this, we write it in a language that the angels don’t understand. These homiletical explanations, while not the main reasons for the Aramaic Ketubah, stress the importance of being mindful to imbue our new home with Torah and peace.  A noted scholar and researcher, Rabbi Yehuda Shurpin serves as content editor at Chabad.org, and writes the popular weekly Ask Rabbi Y column. Rabbi Shurpin is the rabbi of the Chabad Shul in St. Louis Park, Minn., where he resides with his wife, Ester, and their children.