Parashas Emor: Pnimiyus HaTorah, Taharah, and the Light of Rashbi

Topics

• Why Is Parashas Emor Called “Emor”?
• Amirah as Lashon Rakah
• The Inner Torah: Ta’amim, Kavanot, and Pnimiyus
• Yayin HaMeshumar and the Hidden Torah
• The Stories of Torah as a Levush
• The Torah Precedes the Story
• “Longer Than the Earth”: Torah Beyond Measurement
• Torah as the Revelation of Hashem
• Every Generation and Every Neshamah Is in Torah
• Adam HaRishon, the Torah, and the Mystery of Teshuvah
• Forty-Nine Gates, Seventy Faces, and Peshat Emes
• Taharah: The Gateway to Pnimiyus
• Rashbi, Lag BaOmer, and Fire
• The Light of Torah Is Beyond Measure
• Zohar Means Radiance
• Do Not Trade Diamonds for Lollipops
• What Is Real Hatzlachah?

Transcript

## Why Is Parashas Emor Called “Emor”?

Parashas Emor opens in an unusual way: “וַיֹּאמֶר ה׳ אֶל מֹשֶׁה, אֱמֹר אֶל הַכֹּהֲנִים בְּנֵי אַהֲרֹן, וְאָמַרְתָּ אֲלֵהֶם — Hashem said to Moshe: Say to the Kohanim, the sons of Aharon, and you shall say to them” (Vayikra 21:1). Usually the Torah introduces a command with “וַיְדַבֵּר ה׳ אֶל מֹשֶׁה לֵּאמֹר.” Here the entire opening is built around the language of אמירה: ויאמר, אמור, ואמרת.

What is the difference between אמירה and דיבור? The Ramban notes that, on the level of straightforward peshat, the two expressions can function similarly. Yet if so, why does the Torah choose אמירה so insistently here? And why did this word become the name of the entire parashah?

The name “Emor” seems especially strange. Bereishis, Noach, Lech Lecha, Vayeira, Chayei Sarah — each title evokes something recognizable in the parashah. But what is “Emor”? Is it merely because it happens to be the first distinctive word? A parashah name should tell us something.

It is also worth noticing that the familiar names of the parshiyos are not the usual way Chazal identify locations in Tanach. The Gemara generally cites a pasuk or a perek rather than saying “in Parashas Noach” or “in Parashas Emor.” The titles by which we know the weekly portions therefore deserve thought of their own. Why, in this case, did Klal Yisrael come to call the parashah specifically “Emor”?

The first direction is that אמירה can indicate a softer mode of speech. At Har Sinai the Torah says, “כֹּה תֹאמַר לְבֵית יַעֲקֹב וְתַגֵּיד לִבְנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל” (Shemos 19:3). Rashi explains that “Beis Yaakov” refers to the women, who were to be addressed בלשון רכה, in a gentle language, while “ותגיד” carries a firmer tone.

Perhaps, then, Emor is already hinting that the halachos of this parashah are not merely to be delivered. They must be transmitted in a particular way. But that still leaves us with a larger question: why specifically here, by the Kohanim, does the Torah insist on this language from the very first word?

## Amirah as Lashon Rakah

The Torah’s use of אמירה can indeed express gentleness. On “כֹּה תֹאמַר לְבֵית יַעֲקֹב וְתַגֵּיד לִבְנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל,” Rashi explains that the women were addressed בלשון רכה, with a softer form of speech, while the men were given the matters in a more demanding form (Rashi to Shemos 19:3).

That would fit beautifully with the opening of Emor. Rashi famously explains “אֱמֹר… וְאָמַרְתָּ” as “להזהיר גדולים על הקטנים” — the adults are commanded regarding the children (Rashi to Vayikra 21:1). Whenever Torah is transmitted to the next generation, the manner of transmission matters. Chinuch cannot be only command and pressure. A child must hear Torah in a language he can receive.

But this cannot be the entire explanation. The pasuk begins, “וַיֹּאמֶר ה׳ אֶל מֹשֶׁה.” Hashem’s instruction to Moshe itself is phrased as אמירה. Then comes “אֱמֹר אֶל הַכֹּהֲנִים,” addressed to the adult Kohanim, and only then “וְאָמַרְתָּ אֲלֵהֶם.” If the point were only how adults speak to children, the first two expressions would still require explanation.

Rav Moshe Feinstein develops the idea more broadly. The Kohanim are being given a life of special restrictions. A Kohen cannot become tamei for every relative or friend. His marriage choices are restricted. A Kohen Gadol has an even narrower framework. These laws could easily be experienced as a burden: everyone else may do something, while I may not.

Therefore the Torah introduces these obligations בלשון אמירה — gently. The message is not, “Here are your restrictions; carry them whether you like them or not.” The Kohen has to understand that these halachos flow from his kedushah. They are not a punishment but an expression of what he has been chosen to be. The Torah is teaching us how to communicate a higher standard: show the person its beauty and privilege, not only its limits.

There is, however, another dimension. The Vilna Gaon, in his commentary to Mishlei (4:20), distinguishes between דיבור and אמירה in a deeper way. דיבור refers to the articulated words of Torah themselves. אמירה points to what lies within them — פנימיות התורה, its inner meaning, its כוונות and its טעמים.

If so, Emor is not merely “say it gently.” Emor may be telling us: reveal what is inside the Torah. Do not stop with the external words. Enter the reasons, the intentions, the inner world. And now our question becomes sharper: why is that message placed specifically at the beginning of the parashah of the Kohanim?

## The Inner Torah: Ta’amim, Kavanot, and Pnimiyus

Once אמירה is understood as פנימיות התורה, the entire opening of the parashah changes. “Emor” is no longer an accidental first word. It becomes a program: look beyond the surface of Torah into its טעמים, כוונות, and פנימיות.

But what does that really mean?

We are accustomed to speaking about טעמי המצוות. The Sefer HaChinuch gives reasons for mitzvos, and in a number of places the Torah itself states a reason. Yet we should never imagine that the reason presented to us exhausts the mitzvah.

The Vilna Gaon teaches that every ענין in Torah contains many reasons. Chazal revealed to us only what we are capable of receiving — the more accessible טעם. Even where the Torah itself gives a reason, additional hidden reasons remain. The revealed explanation is true, but it is only one layer.

The same is true of פירושי התורה. We speak of “שבעים פנים לתורה,” seventy faces of Torah. The Gra goes further and writes that within each of those faces are “ששים רבוא פנים” — six hundred thousand dimensions. Seventy times six hundred thousand is forty-two million. The point is not a game of numbers. The point is to appreciate how little of Torah’s depth we ever see.

Shlomo HaMelech said, “אָמַרְתִּי אֶחְכָּמָה, וְהִיא רְחוֹקָה מִמֶּנִּי — I said, ‘I will become wise,’ but it remained far from me” (Koheles 7:23). The greater a person becomes, the more he discovers how far the Torah extends beyond him.

That is פנימיות התורה. A pasuk does not contain one idea and then become exhausted. A mitzvah is not reduced to one reason. A sugya is not finished because we found one explanation. Every word belongs to an endless Divine chochmah.

And that brings us back to Parashas Emor. If “Emor” means the inner Torah, then two questions stand before us. First: why does this parashah, which deals so heavily with Kehunah, tumah, taharah, and kedushah, introduce us specifically to פנימיות התורה? Second: if this is the central idea, perhaps we can finally understand why the entire parashah carries the name Emor.

## Yayin HaMeshumar and the Hidden Torah

We often speak about the seudah of the tzaddikim in the future: the Leviathan, the shor habar, and the special “יין המשומר,” the wine preserved from the six days of Creation. Chazal speak of “יין המשומר בענביו מששת ימי בראשית” (Berachos 34b).

What is this yayin hameshumar? Are we simply being promised an extraordinarily aged wine?

The Gra explains it as a remez to the hidden dimensions of Torah. In the future, the deeper פנים of Torah will be revealed. The “preserved wine” is the Torah that has remained concealed — knowledge and pnimiyus that humanity has not yet been able to receive.

This fits the teaching that Torah contains שבעים פנים. In the future, that hidden breadth will open. What today is sealed will become accessible. The pleasure of that future seudah is therefore not merely physical. The wine represents גילוי — revelation.

Think of what that means. We speak casually about “another peshat.” But if every word of Torah contains layer upon layer, and if Chazal and the Gra describe dimensions numbering far beyond what the mind can hold at once, then Torah is not a book we finish. It is an ocean whose shoreline keeps moving as we advance.

That is why the imagery of wine is so appropriate. Wine is hidden within the grape. Its richness emerges only after a process. The same Torah can be read on the surface and yet contain worlds within it. What is “preserved” is not absent; it is present, but concealed.

The Gra describes the future as a time when these hidden פנים will be revealed. Moshe Rabbeinu will teach Torah on a level we have never known. What we now grasp through hints, garments, and fragments will become clearer.

So when we say פנימיות התורה, we are not speaking only about an isolated mystical subject. We are speaking about the inner depth of all Torah — the layers beneath the words, beneath the narratives, beneath the reasons we presently know.

And that is the meaning of Emor we are trying to reach: not only to repeat Torah, but to penetrate Torah.

## The Stories of Torah as a Levush

The Gra explains that, לעתיד לבוא, Moshe Rabbeinu will reveal dimensions of Torah that we do not presently see. The Torah as we encounter it now is often clothed in “לבוש הסיפורים” — the garment of narrative. Avraham travels. Yitzchak digs. Yaakov leaves home. Pharaoh issues decrees. The Torah tells us stories, but the story is not the end of the Torah.

This helps explain a phenomenon we see throughout the mefarshim. A narrative about ancient Egypt suddenly becomes the basis for a precise halachic analysis. Why should Pharaoh be treated like a lamdan?

Take the decree against the Jewish infants. The Mishneh LaMelech, in Parashas Derachim, analyzes Pharaoh’s use of the Jewish midwives in light of the halachic distinction between a Ben Noach and a Yisrael regarding the killing of a fetus. The question almost asks itself: was Pharaoh sitting in a beis medrash working through the sugya?

The answer is that the historical episode is a levush. The Torah is not merely reporting what Pharaoh happened to think. The event becomes the garment through which an eternal Torah principle is revealed. The pnimiyus is the Torah that Chazal and the mefarshim uncover within the narrative.

This also gives meaning to the Torah’s phrase, “אֵת אֲשֶׁר הִתְעַלַּלְתִּי בְּמִצְרַיִם” (Shemos 10:2). “His’alalti” carries a sense of having made sport of Egypt. At first that sounds difficult. The makkos were terrifying, not humorous.

But think of a puppet show. The audience sees movement below, yet the strings are being controlled from above. Pharaoh repeatedly says yes and no, resists and collapses, because the entire drama is being driven toward a Divine end. The Torah itself repeatedly tells us that Hashem hardened Pharaoh’s heart. The human tyrant who imagined himself sovereign was, in the end, carrying out a script he did not control.

That is part of the inner reading of Torah. The outer story shows Pharaoh making decisions. The pnimiyus reveals the hand of HaKadosh Baruch Hu directing history toward its purpose.

## The Torah Precedes the Story

Rav Chaim Brisker gives a striking formulation in the Haggadah. We say, “Pesach al shum mah? Matzah al shum mah?” We normally hear the question as: Why do we eat matzah? Because Klal Yisrael left Mitzrayim in haste.

Rav Chaim turns the relationship around. The Torah did not arise in response to the historical event. The event unfolded so that the Torah could be fulfilled. The matzah is not merely a memorial to what happened; what happened was already part of the Divine Torah-plan.

That is the meaning of the Zohar’s statement, “אסתכל באורייתא וברא עלמא” — HaKadosh Baruch Hu looked into the Torah and created the world (Zohar, Terumah 161a). Torah is not a commentary on reality. Reality is built from Torah.

Once we understand that, “לבוש הסיפורים” becomes much clearer. The Torah-story is not simply a record of events from which we later derive lessons. The events themselves are manifestations of a deeper Torah.

This brings us back to wine. The Gemara says: “יין ניתן בשבעים אותיות, וסוד ניתן בשבעים אותיות; נכנס יין יצא סוד — wine has the numerical value seventy, and sod has the numerical value seventy; when wine enters, the secret emerges” (Eruvin 65a). The same passage says that one who remains settled in his wine possesses the daas of the seventy elders.

Why seventy? Because seventy is repeatedly associated with depth that becomes revealed: שבעים זקנים, שבעים פנים, יין, סוד. The physical wine becomes a remez to an inner wine — the Torah’s hidden sod.

Even the wine Yosef sent to Yaakov can be read in this light. Rashi explains that he sent “יין ישן שדעת זקנים נוחה הימנו,” old wine that brings satisfaction to the mind of elders (Rashi to Bereishis 45:23). Again: wine, daas, zekeinim.

The point is not merely gematria. It is a pattern. Yayin suggests something contained within, something that can settle the mind and reveal what is hidden. Yayin hameshumar is therefore a fitting image for the pnimiyus of Torah: concealed, preserved, and waiting to be revealed.

## “Longer Than the Earth”: Torah Beyond Measurement

Once we see the connection between יין, סוד, and the seventy faces of Torah, the Gemara in Eruvin takes on a different depth. “יין ניתן בשבעים אותיות, וסוד ניתן בשבעים אותיות” is not simply an elegant gematria. The number seventy points toward a world of concealed daas — the שבעים זקנים, the שבעים פנים לתורה, and the פנימיות that emerges when the outer covering is opened.

Everything in the physical world has a corresponding spiritual dimension. The physical yayin is one expression; the deeper yayin hameshumar is the hidden Torah itself.

Iyov describes chochmah with the words, “אֲרֻכָּה מֵאֶרֶץ מִדָּהּ, וּרְחָבָה מִנִּי יָם — its measure is longer than the earth and broader than the sea” (Iyov 11:9). The Chofetz Chaim, in Shem Olam, draws our attention not only to the size described by the pasuk but to the word מִדָּהּ — its measure.

If the pasuk merely wanted to say that Torah is vast, it could have said that it is longer than the earth and broader than the sea. Why emphasize measurement?

Because the greatness of Torah is such that even our measuring instruments are inadequate. The larger the object, the larger the unit we use to describe it. We do not measure a city in inches. We do not describe astronomical distances in feet. Once we speak about the heavens, we move into measurements such as light-years because ordinary terrestrial units no longer communicate the reality.

So too Torah. “אֲרֻכָּה מֵאֶרֶץ מִדָּהּ” means that the measuring system of the earth itself is too small. We do not merely lack enough paper to write all the hidden inyanim of Torah; we lack a worldly scale by which to quantify what Torah contains.

That is a frightening and exhilarating thought. A person can spend a lifetime learning and still be standing at the edge.

But the response should not be despair. When a person enters a great banquet and sees more food than he could possibly eat, he does not walk out because he cannot finish everything. He takes what he can and enjoys it. Torah is infinitely greater than us, but that is not a reason to give up. It is a reason to begin.

## Torah as the Revelation of Hashem

The Gra adds another dimension. Not only are the פירושים of Torah beyond number; the words, the אותיות, the gematrios, and the צירופים themselves contain endless depth. All of them are bound up with שמותיו של הקדוש ברוך הוא — the Names of HaKadosh Baruch Hu.

That is why the infinity of Torah is not surprising. Hashem is אין סוף. Torah is His chochmah and the means through which He makes Himself knowable to us. If Torah reveals HaKadosh Baruch Hu, then no finite human framework can exhaust it.

When the Torah says of Avraham Avinu, “כִּי יְדַעְתִּיו” (Bereishis 18:19), the language of ידיעה is not merely information. To know Hashem means to form a relationship with His ratzon, His middos, and His chochmah. Torah is the pathway to that ידיעה.

This is why the inner dimensions of Torah are not a luxury. They are part of what Torah is. One learns a halachah, a sugya, a pasuk, and at one level he learns what to do and what the words mean. But if he goes deeper, he begins to see how that Torah reflects the Divine chochmah behind creation.

Chazal and the sefarim express this with the idea that HaKadosh Baruch Hu, the Torah, and Klal Yisrael are bound together in one unity. The more a person attaches himself to Torah, the more he attaches himself to its נותן.

And therefore the immeasurable number of interpretations is not a collection of disconnected clever ideas. The peshatim must be אמת. They are different windows into one Divine truth.

This is an essential qualification. “שבעים פנים לתורה” does not mean that anything a person invents becomes Torah. There are seventy פנים — faces — but they must actually be faces of the Torah. They must emerge through יגיעה, through honesty, through the discipline of learning until one is מכוון לאמת.

Think of the depth of a Rashba, a Ritva, a Reb Chaim. When we say there are seventy faces and six hundred thousand dimensions within each face, we are speaking about peshatim of that order — authentic Torah that reveals another angle of the same אמת.

That is why Torah can be endless without becoming arbitrary. It is endless because the One it reveals is endless.

## Every Generation and Every Neshamah Is in Torah

The Gra writes that all generations are תלויים בתורה — rooted in Torah. The history of the world is not outside Torah; it is contained within it.

Chazal teach that HaKadosh Baruch Hu “was creating worlds and destroying them” before the present order of creation (Bereishis Rabbah 3:7). Whatever the full meaning of that teaching, the larger point is that all olamos are encompassed within the Divine plan expressed through Torah.

The same is true of Klal Yisrael. The sefarim speak of six hundred thousand root neshamos corresponding to the six hundred thousand letters of Torah. Immediately one asks: how can that be? Even in the Midbar there were far more than six hundred thousand Jews if one includes women, children, and the elderly. And throughout history there have obviously been many millions.

The answer given in the teachings of Kabbalah is that a neshamah can contain many ניצוצות. One shoresh can express itself through many individuals. A single spiritual root can branch into numerous souls.

This also helps us understand the deep bonds that exist between people. Husband and wife are described as two halves that become one. Friends can feel an inexplicable inner connection because they share a shoresh or a spiritual affinity. The sefarim trace different souls and nitzotzos back to earlier roots in Klal Yisrael.

We need not enter all the details now. The point for our subject is this: Torah does not merely contain laws and narratives. It contains the neshamos of Klal Yisrael and the pattern of the doros themselves.

That is another meaning of פנימיות התורה. The external text appears finite. There are a fixed number of letters and words. But within those letters are worlds, generations, and souls.

So if a person says, “Torah is too large; I can never know it,” he is missing the point. Of course it is larger than us. We ourselves are inside it.

## Adam HaRishon, the Torah, and the Mystery of Teshuvah

The Gra teaches that Adam HaRishon was capable of extraordinary Torah knowledge. He stood near the highest שערי בינה. Avraham Avinu likewise grasped Torah before it was formally given at Sinai. The Torah preceded Matan Torah because Torah preceded the world itself.

But this creates a fascinating difficulty.

Chazal relate that after Kayin killed Hevel, Adam HaRishon met him and asked, “מה נעשה בדינך — What happened with your judgment?” Kayin answered, “עשיתי תשובה ונתפשרתי — I did teshuvah and reached a reconciliation.” Adam HaRishon struck his face in amazement and said, “כך היא כוחה של תשובה, ואני לא הייתי יודע? — Such is the power of teshuvah, and I did not know!” (Bereishis Rabbah 22:13).

How can that be? If Adam HaRishon possessed Torah on such an exalted level, how could he not know one of the most fundamental yesodos of Torah — teshuvah?

That question deserves its own discussion. One could suggest distinctions between what Adam knew, what was accessible to him, and what was revealed through lived reality. But I do not want to force an answer where the matter is deeper than the present discussion.

The question itself, however, teaches us something important. When the sefarim say that Adam or Avraham “knew the Torah,” we must not translate that into our simplistic model of possessing a printed sefer containing every detail in the form we know it today.

Torah existed before Sinai in deeper forms, in spiritual structures, in Divine names, in principles that could be apprehended at different levels. The revelation of Torah unfolds.

The Gra connects this to the שערי בינה. There are fifty gates of understanding. Chazal say that Moshe Rabbeinu received them all except one: “חמשים שערי בינה נבראו בעולם, וכולן ניתנו למשה חסר אחת” (Rosh Hashanah 21b). The fiftieth gate marks a boundary between human attainment and a level beyond ordinary human life.

This will help us understand why the Torah can be entirely present and yet still contain endless dimensions that even the greatest human being has not reached.

## Forty-Nine Gates, Seventy Faces, and Peshat Emes

Chazal say that fifty שערי בינה were created and Moshe Rabbeinu received all but one (Rosh Hashanah 21b), based on “וַתְּחַסְּרֵהוּ מְּעַט מֵאֱלֹקים” (Tehillim 8:6). The Gra connects the unreachable fiftieth gate to the pasuk, “כִּי לֹא יִרְאַנִי הָאָדָם וָחָי — a human being cannot see Me and live” (Shemos 33:20).

Adam HaRishon, before death entered the world through the chet, stood prepared for an attainment that later humanity could not reach in the same way. Once mortality became part of the human condition, the highest gate lay beyond the boundary of ordinary life.

The Gra also distinguishes different structures of depth in Torah — including forty-nine dimensions associated with Torah shebiksav and seventy פנים associated with Torah shebaal peh. Whatever the precise map of these levels, the message is clear: both Written and Oral Torah contain authentic multiplicity.

But this raises a practical question. In Chumash, people often say many different divrei Torah. In Gemara, if a peshat does not fit the words precisely, we reject it. If Torah shebaal peh has שבעים פנים, why are we stricter there?

Because שבעים פנים does not mean seventy excuses for imprecision.

A peshat must be מכוון לאמת. One can labor for days over a Tosafos and finally discover the structure that truly fits the words. That peshat may be one of many possible אמת’dike approaches, but it is not arbitrary.

There is a famous sharp quip told about a Rosh Yeshiva who defended a weak explanation by saying, “There are seventy faces to Torah.” The answer was: “But your peshat is not among the faces.” The point is humorous, but fundamental.

When we say there are forty-two million dimensions within the תורה, do not imagine forty-two million casual vertlach. Think of forty-two million peshatim with the depth and integrity of a Rashba, a Ritva, a Reb Chaim — each one opening another true face of the same Torah.

That is the grandeur of pnimiyus. Not freedom from rigor, but deeper rigor. The further inward one goes, the more אמת matters.

## Taharah: The Gateway to Pnimiyus

We have spoken about what פנימיות התורה is. Now we come to the practical question: how does a person become zocheh to see deeper?

Ratzon matters. Kevius matters. Yegiah matters. But there is another condition: taharah.

Shlomo HaMelech says, “כָּתְבֵם עַל לוּחַ לִבֶּךָ — write them upon the tablet of your heart” (Mishlei 3:3). Torah has to be written on a person. And before one writes a Sefer Torah, the klaf must be prepared. The material itself requires work and purity.

The Gemara tells of Reb Chiya’s extraordinary plan to ensure that Torah would never be forgotten. He would plant flax, weave nets, trap deer, prepare the hides, write the Torah, and teach children — every stage built from the beginning for Torah (Bava Metzia 85b). Why such a process? Why not simply obtain parchment or a sefer already prepared?

The lesson is that the shoresh matters. Torah that is to endure is built in taharah from its first step.

Now look again at Parashas Emor. What does the parashah discuss? The purity of the Kohanim. Tumah and taharah. Kedushas Kehunah. The avodah of the Mikdash. Suddenly the name Emor becomes luminous.

If אמירה represents טעמי התורה, כוונותיה, and פנימיותה, then the Torah places Emor precisely here because pnimiyus depends upon taharah. The inner Torah is not acquired only with a sharper mind. It requires a purer vessel.

“גַּל עֵינַי וְאַבִּיטָה נִפְלָאוֹת מִתּוֹרָתֶךָ — Open my eyes so that I may see wonders from Your Torah” (Tehillim 119:18). To see those wonders, the eyes themselves must be guarded.

That is the practical avodah. Do not fill the mind with every piece of nonsense the world offers and then wonder why Torah does not shine. A person who wants pnimiyus must create space for pnimiyus.

Reb Shimon bar Yochai becomes the great illustration. He fled from the Roman decree and lived in a cave for years, separated from the outside world, immersed entirely in Torah (Shabbos 33b). He emerged as the figure most associated with the Zohar — literally, radiance — with the inner light of Torah.

The Gemara describes how, when Rashbi and his son first emerged, “כל מקום שנותנין עיניהן מיד נשרף” — wherever they placed their eyes was immediately burned (Shabbos 33b). The imagery of fire, eyes, separation, and Torah all converge.

Emor teaches us the pnimiyus. The parashah of taharah teaches us the condition for receiving it.

## Rashbi, Lag BaOmer, and Fire

Reb Shimon bar Yochai is constantly associated with fire and light. That is why the bonfires of Lag BaOmer naturally become part of this discussion.

There has been considerable debate regarding the customs of Lag BaOmer. The Chasam Sofer objected strongly to turning a yahrzeit into a festival and questioned customs that involved burning clothing because of בל תשחית. Other poskim defended the day as possessing a genuine element of Yom Tov, while among Lithuanian communities the celebration was historically far less pronounced.

The shiur notes that even sefarim deeply rooted in Kabbalah do not always give Lag BaOmer the place one might expect. The Yesod V’Shoresh HaAvodah, for example, is saturated with Zohar and Kabbalah, yet Lag BaOmer is not treated there as a major annual avodah. Later poskim likewise discuss whether the night itself carries the status people commonly associate with the day.

There are also historical discussions regarding the development of large bonfires in Eretz Yisrael and the precise origin of various practices. Those questions are interesting, but they are not our main point.

Whatever the history of every individual minhag, the association of Rashbi with fire is unquestionably rooted in the imagery surrounding his Torah and his petirah.

The Zohar describes the final day of Rashbi’s life as a day of extraordinary light. His home was filled with radiance, and his talmidim could not simply look upon him as on an ordinary day. The imagery is not incidental. Rashbi’s Torah is the Zohar — radiance itself.

The Bnei Yissaschar and other sefarim connect Lag BaOmer with the symbolism of light and טוב. Some communities developed customs of multiple lights or candles to express that idea.

The point is not the bonfire itself. The fire is a remez. What are we trying to remember when we see the flame?

We are remembering the אור התורה — the inner light of Torah that Rashbi revealed. A physical flame rises upward, gives light, and transforms what it touches. So too פנימיות התורה. It pulls a person upward and allows him to see a world that was present all along but hidden in darkness.

That is the connection between Rashbi and Emor. אמירה is the pnimiyus. Rashbi is the great revealer of that pnimiyus. Fire is the physical symbol of the light.

## The Light of Torah Is Beyond Measure

The Zohar’s descriptions of Rashbi’s final day continue the same theme. Light, fire, the sun, torches — again and again, his petirah is presented not as darkness but as extraordinary illumination.

Why?

Because light is the natural mashal for ruchniyus. Physical objects can be weighed and measured. Spiritual reality cannot be held in the hand, so Chazal and the sefarim describe גילוי with אור.

The Chofetz Chaim writes in Shmiras HaLashon, Shaar HaTorah, that there is no end to the kedushah of Torah. He cites the tradition that every pasuk contains an enormous multiplicity of interpretations. Elsewhere the sefarim describe the אור of the Divine Names in measures so vast that the numbers themselves are beyond ordinary comprehension.

The Chofetz Chaim also cites a Midrash that the parshiyos of Torah were not given to us in their ultimate inner order. Had the deepest seder of Torah been revealed openly, the spiritual power accessible through its reading would have been overwhelming. The seder known fully to HaKadosh Baruch Hu remains concealed.

Again we return to the same principle: the Torah we possess is completely true, but it is clothed. Behind the visible order is a deeper order.

The same language of אור appears when the sefarim describe the transition from this world. The Zohar speaks of the neshamos of relatives and tzaddikim coming to greet a person. Stories are told of gedolim who, near their petirah, spoke as though earlier tzaddikim had come to receive them. Whether we understand every detail or not, the recurring image is one of revelation — the veil becoming thinner.

A chair placed for an unseen guest does not mean the neshamah requires a physical seat. It is a siman of kavod in this world for a reality that is not physical.

So too the fire of Rashbi. The fire is not the essence. It is the sign.

The essence is that פנימיות התורה is אור. When hidden Torah is revealed, what was opaque becomes luminous. Rashbi’s entire life and petirah became identified with that illumination.

## Zohar Means Radiance

The Zohar describes the moment of petirah as one in which a person encounters a great אור. Midrashic and Kabbalistic sources likewise connect the departure of the neshamah with a revelation of the Shechinah that cannot be perceived in ordinary life.

That image should no longer surprise us. We have spent the entire shiur discovering that אור is the language of פנימיות.

At the time this shiur was given, there had recently been public discussion of powerful telescopes revealing light at distances and magnitudes beyond what earlier instruments could observe. The scientific details are not our subject. The image is what struck me: the farther one looks into the vastness of creation, the more light appears.

That became a mashal for Torah.

A person looks at the surface and thinks he has seen the object. Then he receives a stronger instrument and discovers that what seemed empty was filled with galaxies and light. So too in Torah. A pasuk seems simple. A sugya seems familiar. Then a Rashi opens it. A Tosafos opens it further. A Rashba, a Ritva, a Gra, a Reb Chaim — each gives the mind another instrument, and suddenly the same words are full of worlds.

That is exactly what the word זוהר means: radiance, brilliance, light.

Rashbi is associated with Zohar because he represents the revelation of what is hidden within Torah. The pnimiyus does not replace the revealed Torah. It illuminates it.

And this is the great practical message. Do not abandon Torah because you have seen only its outer surface. Do not imagine that a word you have learned once is “finished.” Every word contains worlds.

If someone offered you an incomparable treasure in exchange for a piece of candy, you would laugh at the trade. Yet spiritually we do exactly that when we exchange Torah, kedushah, and a clear mind for the small distractions of this world.

Every word of Torah is אור. Every deeper peshat is another opening in that light. Do not sell it cheaply.

## Do Not Trade Diamonds for Lollipops

The Mishnah lists “תלמוד תורה כנגד כולם — the study of Torah is equal to them all” (Peah 1:1). Mishlei says, “וְכָל חֲפָצִים לֹא יִשְׁווּ בָהּ — no desirable thing can compare to it” (Mishlei 8:11).

After everything we have learned, those words become concrete. Torah cannot be measured by the scale of this world because the two are not equal currencies. One is diamonds; the other is lollipops.

This is the meaning a person should carry into Lag BaOmer. When you see the flame, do not stop at the fire. Remember what it represents: the אור, the פנימיות, the beauty and depth of Torah.

And now comes the practical avodah.

If pnimiyus depends upon taharah, then a person must protect the כלי through which he receives Torah. One of the most direct areas is שמירת העיניים.

The yetzer hara takes a fleeting image and makes it appear precious. It persuades a person to surrender clarity, kedushah, and the ability to see Torah deeply for something that lasts a moment. That is the same absurd trade: diamonds for a lollipop.

A person has to ask himself: What exactly am I gaining, and what am I giving away?

The attraction may feel powerful, but the imagination surrounding it is often entirely false. The yetzer hara creates a fantasy and asks the person to pay for it with his own פנימיות. Once the fantasy is stripped away, the exchange looks ridiculous.

This is why shmiras einayim belongs to the heart of our discussion, not as an unrelated mussar point at the end. “גַּל עֵינַי וְאַבִּיטָה נִפְלָאוֹת מִתּוֹרָתֶךָ” — open my eyes so that I can see wonders in Your Torah (Tehillim 119:18). The same eyes with which a person wants to see נפלאות התורה must be kept from what dulls and contaminates that vision.

I am telling you something practical: spiritual hatzlachah is tied to what a person chooses to see. The purity of the eyes affects the purity of the mind, the purity of the heart, and ultimately the Torah a person is able to receive.

That is Emor in practice. If you want the אמירה — the inner Torah — protect the vessel.

## What Is Real Hatzlachah?

Do not confuse visible wealth with hatzlachah.

A person may appear successful because he has money, influence, or possessions, and then one event reveals that his entire life has collapsed. That is not the success we are speaking about.

Real hatzlachah begins with kedushah. It begins with a person guarding himself, protecting his eyes and mind, and refusing to trade what is eternal for what is momentary.

That is the final point of the shiur: the light of Torah is available, but the כלי must be kept clean enough to receive it. Emor teaches us to seek the pnimiyus; the halachos of Kehunah teach us taharah; Rashbi teaches us אור.

May we be zocheh not merely to learn the words of Torah, but to see their light.