The Secret of the Jewish Heart: The Fire Burning Beneath the Rust

Lesson No. 6 | Monday, Parshas Behar, 8 Iyar 5755 (1995). Continued from No. 5
How can one reveal the Divine spark hidden within every person? Rabbi Berland shlit"a (may he live long and good days) in a fascinating lesson on the power of "I have set Hashem before me always," the parable of the poor man and the millionaire, and the wondrous story of the Baal HaTanya and the stingy wealthy man who taught us all a lesson about the Jewish heart that burns beneath mountains of ash.
Shiviti Hashem L'negdi Tamid
The Gemara (Talmud) in Tractate Avodah Zarah teaches us the principle of "strengthening oneself like a lion in the morning for the service of his Creator." The goal is for a person to be the one who awakens the dawn, or at the very least, not to be late for the time of prayer when the congregation prays. This labor connects to the constant command: "Shiviti Hashem l'negdi tamid" (I have set Hashem before me always) – to visualize the Name of Hashem (Y-H-V-H) before one's eyes at every single moment.
Rebbe Natan of Breslov explains in Likutey Halachot (Laws of Waking in the Morning, page 9) that when a person wakes up and breaks his sleep for the sake of Torah and prayer, he elevates Malchus (Kingship), the holy Shechinah (Divine Presence). The most auspicious time for this is rising for Chatzos (midnight lamentations), or at least in the hours before sunrise. At these times, the Shechinah begins to rest upon the person, and he begins to feel Elokus (Godliness).
But the question arises: How can a person, who is ultimately just physical matter, feel Godliness? After all, man is physical matter that is even "worse" than a table or a chair. A table and chair stand quietly; you can place books on them and they do not resist. But man? Put a book on him – and he might throw you miles away. Man is a physical being that rebels. He knows there is Hashem in the world, yet he rebels. Tell him "Hashem," and he might jump as if bitten by a snake.
To merit "Shiviti Hashem l'negdi tamid," a person must perform actions that cause the Shechinah to agree to dwell upon him, to penetrate his 248 limbs and 365 sinews. This starts with rising early, at the time when "Rachel" – the secret of the Shechinah – ascends, and then the person merits to know Hashem, to feel the reality of Hashem, until he no longer sees human beings before his eyes but only Hashem Yitbarach (the Blessed Creator).
Standing as a Poor Man at the Door
When a person merits seeing Hashem before his eyes, all his movements change. He no longer approaches Hashem with demands: "Master of the World, give me, give me, give me." One who rises at Chatzos (midnight) and feels Hashem stands before Him as a "rash" (impoverished person), as a poor man, as one who is lowly and needy.
It is like a person standing before a great millionaire asking for a handout. If he knocks on the door with chutzpah (audacity) and shouts: "Nu, give me the hundred dollars already!", they will slam the door in his face. But if he stands in shame, in submission, lowers his head and asks with supplications – then mercy is awakened upon him. When a person comes with submission and supplications, he melts all the klipot (spiritual husks) surrounding the heart.
Godliness is entirely about giving, and to connect to it, one must remove the interfering klipot.
The Rich Man and the "Rusty Coin"
A wondrous story is told about the Baal HaTanya (Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi zt"l), who went together with Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Vitebsk zt"l and Rabbi Shlomo of Karlin zt"l for the purpose of an urgent mitzvah of Pidyon Shvuyim (redeeming captives). They needed ten thousand rubles immediately to save a Jew from death, and they decided to go specifically to a certain wealthy man who was known for his terrible stinginess. That wealthy man was surrounded by walls, iron doors, and dogs, and had never given a decent amount of tzedakah (charity).
When the Tzaddikim arrived, the rich man opened the door and gave them one small "kopek" coin – but the coin was covered in rust. The rust was thicker than the coin itself. Usually, poor people who received such a coin from him would throw it back in contempt or flee for fear of the dogs.
But the Baal HaTanya surprised everyone. He took the rusty coin, hugged it, and kissed it with enthusiasm: "Oh, what precious charity! What a master of charity you are! What a heart of gold you have! Where can such a generous person be found in our generation?" He showered him with praise as if he had given him a precious treasure.
The Tzaddikim began to leave, and after five meters, the rich man called them back. "Come back," he said, and gave them another kopek – this time without rust. Again, the Baal HaTanya hugged and kissed the coin, praising and glorifying the Jewish man's broadness of heart. They moved away again, and the rich man called them again and gave ten kopeks. This repeated itself – a ruble, ten rubles, a hundred rubles – and each time the Tzaddikim showered him with love and praise, until the rich man gave them the entire ten thousand rubles needed for the Pidyon Shvuyim (redemption of captives).
Blowing on the Coals
The Chassidim asked the Tzaddikim: How did you know? How did you manage to extract the money from him when he is known as the "Master of Rust"?
The answer lies in the secret of the Jewish heart. That rich man later told them: "Ten years ago, I gave a kopek to a poor man, and he threw it in my face. I was hurt to the depths of my soul. I said to myself: I work hard for this money, I don't sleep and I don't eat, and they treat it with such disdain? From that day on, I decided that every poor man would only receive this one rusty coin."
Over the years, mountains of rust piled up on the rich man's heart. Anger, hurt, bitterness. But beneath all the mountains of rust and earth – there is a Jewish heart that burns for Hashem Yitbarach. Every Jew has a burning heart that can set the whole world ablaze with its love for Hashem.
This is the great principle: "Afruriyos" (dustiness/earthiness) accumulates on the heart. Sometimes it's a hurt from another Jew, sometimes an improper sight, sometimes anger – and thus mountains of dust pile up, covering the fire. The role of the Tzaddikim of the generation is to be in the aspect of "ruach" (wind/spirit) – to blow and puff the ash off the coals. The moment the dust is removed, it is revealed that beneath the surface, an eternal fire glows, "A constant fire shall burn on the Altar; it shall not go out."
Even in the greatest rasha (wicked person), and on the contrary – the further away he seems, the greater his soul and the more immense his power. All the "marah shachora" (melancholy/depression) and sadness stem only from this covering. If we only knew how to blow away the dust, a fire of holiness would burn there that could bring the whole world back in teshuvah (repentance), in the aspect of Eliyahu HaNavi (Elijah the Prophet) who knew how to ride on horses of fire in a whirlwind to heaven.
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Part 1 of 5 — Lesson No. 6
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