Parashas Devarim: Rav Lochem Sheves Bahar Hazeh and Constant Aliyah

Topics

• Mishneh Torah: Learning Through Retrospect
• Leaving Chorev
• Rashi’s Two Explanations
• Why Emphasize “Enough”?
• The Kli Yakar’s Explanation
• “Penu”: The Need to Turn Away
• Leaving and Traveling Are Two Distinct Acts
• Two Purposes in Every Journey
• The Journey Itself as a Tachlis
• Why Enumerate the Masa’os?
• Every Station Helped Create Klal Yisrael
• “Vayisu” or “Vayachanu”?
• “Motza’eihem L’Maseihem” and “Maseihem L’Motza’eihem”
• A Jew Is a Holech
• Gathering Kedushah Through the Journey
• Yaakov Avinu and the Ladder of the Nations
• Emunah and Aliyah
• Belief Reveals Capacity
• The Aliyah of Mitzrayim
• Aliyah Means Rising Against Resistance
• Learning from the Briah
• The Purpose of Galus: Becoming Bnei Aliyah
• Returning to “Rav Lachem”
• The Ladder of Yaakov Avinu
• The Lowest Rung
• Where the Yetzer Hara Attacks
• Hashem Stands at the Point of Struggle
• The Lowest Point Is a Person’s Beis HaMikdash
• The Foundation of the Ladder
• The Angels Ascending and Descending
• Aliyah Must Come First
• The Ladder as an Escalator
• Two Teachings from Rav Shach
• Rabbi Akiva Wept: The Sin of Intended Descent
• Rav Shach’s Chiddush
• Din and Cheshbon
• Learning Shelo Lishmah
• “Do Not Carry Hashem’s Name in Vain”
• Giving One Hundred Percent
• “Good Enough” Is Not the Standard
• “Penu U’se’u Lachem”: Always Seek the Next Level
• Aliyah Is the Essence of Man
• The Misuse of Ambition
• The Dor Haflagah Redirected the Drive for Aliyah
• The Yetzer Hara Says, “Enough”
• Madrigos Are Rest Areas, Not Homes
• Happiness Through Amal and Accomplishment

Transcript

## Mishneh Torah: Learning Through Retrospect

Parashas Devarim is called *Mishneh Torah*—the repetition of the Torah. It repeats matters precisely and clearly, spelling out the details that must be reviewed and the points that must be emphasized. Much of Sefer Devarim is *mussar* and *hashkafah*: lessons that Klal Yisrael must carry with them.

We will soon see that the *masa’os* in the Midbar—the journeys of Klal Yisrael through the wilderness—were themselves a *limud*. Every movement in the Midbar was a profound learning experience.

There is something called retrospect: after an event has passed, one looks back at the story and asks what it teaches. That is the character of *Mishneh Torah*. Moshe Rabbeinu looks back after the *ma’aseh* and reveals what happened, why it happened, and what Klal Yisrael was meant to learn from it. Sometimes he retells the events and sheds new light upon them; sometimes he delivers *tochachah* and *mussar*.

## Leaving Chorev

Let us focus on one incident at the beginning of Devarim. Moshe Rabbeinu recalls what happened after Har Sinai, when the Ribbono Shel Olam commanded Klal Yisrael to leave Chorev and travel toward Eretz Yisrael.

The Torah states:

> “Hashem our God spoke to us at Chorev, saying: ‘*Rav lachem sheves bahar hazeh*—You have remained long enough at this mountain. Turn and journey for yourselves, and come to the mountain of the Emori…’” (Devarim 1:6–7).

Chorev was the place where Klal Yisrael received the Torah and mitzvos. Once Matan Torah was complete, the next stage of their journey was Eretz Yisrael. Yet the pasuk does not simply say, “Travel to Har HaEmori.” It says: “*Rav lachem*—It is enough that you have remained here. *Penu*—turn. *U’se’u lachem*—and journey for yourselves.”

Why all this additional language? If the time had come to proceed to Eretz Yisrael, the Torah could simply have said so. Why emphasize that they had already remained at Har Sinai long enough? Why tell them first to turn away, and only then to travel?

## Rashi’s Two Explanations

Rashi notes that the words “*Rav lachem sheves bahar hazeh*” are seemingly unnecessary. The Torah could have said simply: You have received the Torah; now travel onward. What, then, does “*rav lachem*” add?

Rashi offers two explanations. According to the *peshuto shel mikra*, “*rav*” refers to time: Klal Yisrael had already remained at the mountain for a long period. According to the Midrash Aggadah, “*rav*” means greatness and abundance: Klal Yisrael had acquired tremendous reward and spiritual achievement through dwelling at Har Sinai. There they received the Torah, constructed the Mishkan, made the Menorah and its *keilim*, established the Sanhedrin, and appointed officers over thousands and hundreds (Rashi to Devarim 1:6).

But the difficulty remains.

According to the second explanation, why should the fact that they gained so much at Har Sinai be a reason to leave? If a person has gained greatly in a certain place, he might reasonably say: “Then let me gain still more.” Rashi does not say that nothing further could be gained there. He says only that they had already gained much.

This is how one must learn a Rashi: read exactly what it says and notice what it does not say. “You have gained a great deal here” is not the same as “There is nothing more for you to gain here.” Perhaps more remained available to them. Why, then, was their past attainment itself a reason to move on?

The same question applies to the first explanation. If “*rav*” means that they had already spent a long time at Har Sinai, what was wrong with remaining longer? Were they operating under a strict deadline? One might suggest that they were on a clock: they had to reach Eretz Yisrael, and if they remained too long at Chorev they would arrive late. But if the real reason to leave was that they had to reach Eretz Yisrael, the Torah should have emphasized the destination—not that they had already spent enough time where they were.

Suppose a person is traveling toward a particular destination and pauses along the road. When it is time to continue, the obvious reason is: “We still have somewhere to go.” Why say instead, “We have already been here long enough”? That wording makes the present location itself part of the reason for leaving.

Thus, both explanations require understanding. If “*rav*” refers to time, why was the amount of time spent there decisive? If it refers to achievement, why did the abundance they received there require them to depart?

## Why Emphasize “Enough”?

Let us sharpen the question. If a person must reach point A and pauses somewhere along the road, the reason to continue is that point A remains his destination. The Torah, however, does not merely say, “Proceed to Eretz Yisrael.” It says, “*Rav lachem*—it is enough for you to have remained here.” Why is the emphasis placed upon leaving the present stage?

Ordinarily, when someone says, “We have been here long enough,” one of two things is implied. Either time no longer permits remaining, or there is nothing further to accomplish here. Which is intended in our pasuk?

Perhaps the first explanation in Rashi means that Klal Yisrael had already used the allotted time at Har Sinai. Perhaps the second means that they had completed what was available to accomplish there. Yet neither point is actually stated. Rashi says that they had been there a long time, and that they had achieved a great deal—not that time had expired and not that every possible attainment had been exhausted.

The precise emphasis of “*rav lachem*” therefore demands explanation. The Torah does not say, “You have received everything that can possibly be received here.” It says, “You have received much here.” Why should “much” itself be a reason to leave?

## The Kli Yakar’s Explanation

The Kli Yakar explains that Klal Yisrael had to move onward because the Mishkan and Torah were not sufficient without Eretz Yisrael. They might have been content to remain in the Midbar: they possessed the Torah, the Mishkan, and a wholly spiritual existence. They could ask, “Why do we need Eretz Yisrael?” The command to travel taught them that they still required the Land (Kli Yakar to Devarim 1:6–7).

There is a striking echo of this question in later Jewish history. In Europe, some could feel that wherever the *olam ha-yeshivos* flourished, there was already a spiritual Eretz Yisrael. If one had Torah and yeshivos, why was the physical Land necessary? The Kli Yakar’s reading insists that even the most elevated life of Torah in the Midbar did not replace the need to enter Eretz Yisrael.

Yet I would like to suggest a different approach. “*Rav lachem*” may apply even if there was still more time and even if there was still more to gain. It is possible that additional growth remained available at Har Sinai—and nevertheless, “*Rav lachem sheves bahar hazeh*.” There comes a point at which remaining itself is no longer correct, not because the old place has become empty, but because growth now demands movement.

## “Penu”: The Need to Turn Away

Even if more time remained and even if further attainment was possible, the Torah could still say, “*Rav lachem*.” The command was not merely a statement about the destination. It was a statement about the spiritual necessity of leaving the previous place.

The Kli Yakar explains that Klal Yisrael felt satisfied with the Torah and the Mishkan and therefore did not sense their need for Eretz Yisrael. Hashem told them that they must continue because the Land itself was indispensable. That is one approach.

But let us examine the next word: “*Penu*—turn.” Turn from where? Turn away from what? Why does the Torah not simply say, “Travel to Har HaEmori”? Why must it first command “*Penu*,” and only afterward “*u’se’u lachem*”?

The mefarshim address this question. The Baal HaTurim understands “*penu*” as a demand to turn away from the improper deeds that had occurred in the Midbar. Klal Yisrael could not carry the spiritual refuse of the previous stage into the next one. Before traveling onward, they had to clear it away and separate themselves from it (Baal HaTurim to Devarim 1:7).

The Ibn Ezra, however, explains “*penu*” according to its plain meaning: leave this place (Ibn Ezra to Devarim 1:7). But this itself requires explanation. If they were commanded to travel, would they not obviously have to leave? No one can journey onward while remaining physically in the same place.

Therefore, “*penu*” must be an instruction in its own right. First, leave the place. Then, “*u’se’u lachem*”—begin the journey. The departure and the journey are not one act. They are two separate *avodos*.

## Leaving and Traveling Are Two Distinct Acts

The *ta’amei hamikra* themselves mark a separation between “*penu*” and “*u’se’u lachem*.” First comes “*penu*”: turn away and leave. Then comes “*u’se’u lachem*”: travel onward. This supports the Ibn Ezra’s explanation that abandoning the former place is one matter, while proceeding toward the next destination is another.

At first, this sounds puzzling. Surely traveling automatically entails leaving. Yet the Torah teaches that in *avodas Hashem*, a person may begin moving toward a new destination while still remaining inwardly attached to the old place. Physical movement is not always spiritual departure.

What, then, does “*u’se’u lachem*” mean? Why does the pasuk not simply say “*u’se’u*”—travel? The additional word “*lachem*,” for yourselves, must be understood.

The Ibn Ezra notes that this is a familiar form of expression, comparable to “*Lech lecha*.” Yet Chazal themselves explain that the word “*lecha*” in “*Lech lecha*” is significant: “for your benefit and for your good” (Rashi to Bereishis 12:1). It is not merely decorative language.

Perhaps the same is true here. “*U’se’u lachem*” means: travel for yourselves—for your own benefit and growth.

## Two Purposes in Every Journey

There are two reasons a person may travel. One is to reach the destination toward which he is going. The other is to leave the place from which he is departing.

The Torah expresses both elements regarding Yaakov Avinu: “*Vayeitzei Yaakov miBe’er Sheva*—Yaakov left Be’er Sheva,” and then, “*vayeilech Charanah*—and he went toward Charan” (Bereishis 28:10). Leaving Be’er Sheva was one event; traveling toward Charan was another.

So too here. “*Penu*” means: disengage from the former place. “*U’se’u lachem*” means: begin traveling toward the new one. A true journey requires both.

## The Journey Itself as a Tachlis

Is travel merely a *heichi timtza*—a means of leaving point A and reaching point B—or can the journey itself possess importance?

Consider a simple example. A person needs to leave his house and take a vacation. He chooses a destination, perhaps the mountains or even the Swiss Alps. Ordinarily, the trip is merely the means of getting there. But he may deliberately choose a scenic route and make the traveling itself part of the vacation. He enjoys the scenery, arranges worthwhile stops, and turns the road into part of the experience. The journey began as a means, but it acquired a *tachlis* of its own.

The Torah teaches that Klal Yisrael’s journey was of this kind. “*Penu*” meant leaving the former place. “*U’se’u lachem*” meant that the traveling itself was for them and for their growth. “*U’vo’u Har HaEmori*” meant arriving at the destination. The pasuk divides the process into three stages because each stage possessed independent significance: leaving, traveling, and arriving.

## Why Enumerate the Masa’os?

This sheds light on Parashas Masei. The Torah carefully enumerates the journeys of Klal Yisrael:

> “These are the journeys of Bnei Yisrael, who left the land of Mitzrayim according to their legions” (Bamidbar 33:1).

Why is the entire itinerary important enough to record?

Some explain that the places had to be identified because the Torah forbids returning to Mitzrayim by that route (see Devarim 17:16). But that cannot fully explain the elevated manner in which the Torah presents the list. If it were only a map of a forbidden road, the locations could have been noted briefly.

Instead, the Torah repeatedly says, “*Vayisu… vayachanu*—They journeyed… and they encamped” (Bamidbar 33). It does not merely list one place after another. The repeated formulation gives weight and distinction to every movement. “*Eileh masei Bnei Yisrael*”—these journeys themselves were special events. The Torah is teaching us that the traveling was not incidental. It carried its own spiritual purpose.

## Every Station Helped Create Klal Yisrael

The answer is that every station possessed *ruchniyus* significance. At each place Klal Yisrael received a particular *hashpa’ah* and experienced a distinct *aliyah*. Their route was not random. It was arranged with precision so that every place would contribute to the formation of Bnei Yisrael as the *tzivos Hashem*.

The Alshich explains that the words “*Eileh masei Bnei Yisrael asher yatzu me’eretz Mitzrayim l’tzivosam*” indicate that through these journeys they emerged from Mitzrayim and became the legions of Hashem (Alshich to Bamidbar 33:1). The *masa’os* did not merely transport an already completed nation. The *masa’os* helped create the nation.

## “Vayisu” or “Vayachanu”?

This raises an important question. Which was primary: “*vayisu*,” the traveling, or “*vayachanu*,” the encampment?

At first glance, the encampment should be primary. A person travels in order to arrive somewhere. The destination is the *tachlis*, while the road is merely the means. If one travels to Toronto and stops briefly at a gas station, the stop is irrelevant; it is only a pause along the way. In such a case, the traveling is subordinate to the destination.

But perhaps the journeys of Klal Yisrael must be viewed differently. Perhaps “*vayisu*” was the *ikar*, while “*vayachanu*” was sometimes only an *omeid lafu’ash*—a pause to rest before continuing. Perhaps the movement itself was the central *avodah*.

The Torah’s language suggests both perspectives. The repeated “*vayisu vayachanu*” is not decorative poetry. The mefarshim recognize that the change in emphasis is deliberate. Sometimes the destination is the purpose of the journey, and sometimes the journey itself is the purpose.

## “Motza’eihem L’Maseihem” and “Maseihem L’Motza’eihem”

The Torah states that Moshe recorded “their departures according to their journeys,” and then reverses the order: “these were their journeys according to their departures” (Bamidbar 33:2).

“*Motza’eihem*” can refer to the places at which they arrived—the outcome or destination of the journey. “*Maseihem*” refers to the journeys themselves.

When the Torah says “*motza’eihem l’maseihem*,” the destination is primary. The journey serves the place to which they are going. But when it says “*maseihem l’motza’eihem*,” the journey becomes primary, and the destination serves as the setting toward which that journey unfolds.

There are times when arriving is the *tachlis*. There are also times when the traveling itself is the *tachlis*.

## A Jew Is a Holech

This world demands that a person remain a traveler. A person cannot reach one spiritual level and simply remain there. Chazal teach, “One who does not add will cease” (Avos 1:13). If a person does not advance, he does not remain stationary; he falls backward.

A malach is described as an *omeid*, one who stands, while a person is called a *holech*, one who walks:

> “I will grant you pathways among these who stand” (Zechariah 3:7).

The human being is defined by movement.

People speak of the “Wandering Jew,” usually referring to physical wandering from one land to another. But its deeper meaning is spiritual. A Yid is a *holech*. He does not consolidate himself into one fixed state. He is always en route, always traveling toward the next stage.

Perhaps the physical history of Jewish wandering mirrors this inward reality. Klal Yisrael has traveled from place to place because the essence of a Jew is never to remain spiritually where he was.

## Gathering Kedushah Through the Journey

The mefarshim explain that Klal Yisrael passed through many places in order to receive what each place contained and to elevate the *nitzotzos* of kedushah found there. If they had remained permanently in one place, they would have become fixed in a single spiritual form. Instead, a Jew is constantly absorbing, elevating, and growing.

This is not merely a Kabbalistic idea. It is *seichel hayashar*. Klal Yisrael must evolve—not backward, but forward. We are a nation that grows. We cannot remain forever in one place.

## Yaakov Avinu and the Ladder of the Nations

A Midrash relates that Hashem showed Yaakov Avinu the guardian angels of the nations ascending and descending the ladder. The powers of Bavel, Madai, Yavan, and the other kingdoms rose and then fell. Hashem told Yaakov to ascend and assured him that he would not descend.

Yaakov was afraid. He wondered whether he too might rise only to fall. Because he did not ascend with complete trust, Hashem told him that his descendants would pass through the four *galuyos*.

What is the connection between Yaakov’s failure to ascend and the decree of exile? One could explain simply that he did not trust Hashem and therefore his children were sent into *galus*. But the Maharal reveals a deeper connection between *emunah* and *aliyah*.

## Emunah and Aliyah

*Emunah* and *aliyah* belong to the same spiritual field. If a person is truly capable of reaching a higher level, he can believe that the level is attainable. If he has no relationship to it at all, he cannot genuinely believe that he can reach it.

The fact that Yaakov did not believe he could ascend indicated that this *aliyah* had not yet become fully his. Therefore, the ascent would have to be achieved by another route—the route of *galus*. Klal Yisrael would travel through the nations, confront their forces, gather what was holy within those places, and rise through the journey itself.

## Belief Reveals Capacity

A person cannot meaningfully believe that he will pass an examination in a subject to which he has no connection. If he has never studied economics, he cannot honestly expect to pass an advanced economics test. But if he possesses the ability and preparation, then he can believe—rightly or wrongly—that success is possible.

Thus, the Maharal explains that *emunah* and *aliyah* go together. Belief that one can rise reflects a genuine *shaychus* to that level. A failure to believe may reveal that the level has not yet been acquired.

## The Aliyah of Mitzrayim

The Torah says:

> “I am Hashem Who brought you up from the land of Mitzrayim” (Vayikra 11:45).

It does not merely say that Hashem took us out; it calls the Exodus an *aliyah*. The Arizal explains that Klal Yisrael elevated the *nitzotzos* found in Mitzrayim. Their descent into exile became the means of ascent.

Hashem told Yaakov, “Ascend.” Yaakov did not possess the complete *emunah* to make that ascent directly. Therefore, the *aliyah* would come by another means: through the *galuyos*.

## Aliyah Means Rising Against Resistance

*Michtav MeEliyahu* explains that *aliyah* means rising against the odds—against the currents of difficulty and *nisayon*. There is no true *aliyah* that comes without resistance.

Consider an airplane. Its wings generate lift as the plane moves through the air and works against the force pulling it downward. The very opposition becomes part of the mechanism of ascent. The stronger the movement against the resisting forces, the greater the possibility of rising.

The same is true of a human being. The forces that oppose him are not merely obstacles to *aliyah*; when he struggles correctly, they become the means through which he rises.

## Learning from the Briah

I once read about Rav Simcha Zissel Broide, the Rosh Yeshivah of Chevron, who was named after Rav Simcha Zissel of Kelm. He was an extraordinary *lamdan* and *masmid*, yet he possessed a remarkably open mind toward everything he observed.

When he encountered a new scientific idea, he became excited and shared it with the bachurim so they could understand how it worked. Did he have nothing better to do? Of course he did. He learned day and night with extraordinary *yegias haTorah*. But when a person looks at the *briah*, he can learn the Yad Hashem and discover lessons about life, *tachlis*, and the *tafkid* of creation.

An airplane can teach the same truth expressed by the Maharal: upward movement is born through force exerted against resistance. The more a person pushes against the currents that oppose him, the greater his *aliyah*. For Klal Yisrael, even *galus* could become such a force of ascent.

## The Purpose of Galus: Becoming Bnei Aliyah

Of course, *galus* contains punishment. But it also contains another dimension: the need to struggle against the spiritual currents of exile. Is it easy to live among the nations and continue pushing forward with *mesirus nefesh*? Certainly not. Yet that very struggle creates *aliyah*. “*HaMa’aleh eschem me’eretz Mitzrayim*”—Hashem brings us upward through Mitzrayim and through the resistance of *galus* (Vayikra 11:45).

Klal Yisrael is meant to be constantly engaged in this movement. We must be *bnei aliyah*.

Chazal say:

> “I have seen the *bnei aliyah*, and they are few” (Sukkah 45b).

What is a *ben aliyah*? The Maharsha explains that these are people who live in this world but remain connected to the higher world. They are here, yet inwardly they belong above (Maharsha to Sukkah 45b).

But there is another dimension. A *ben aliyah* is not merely the result of having reached a lofty level. It is a type of person, a personality defined by continual ascent. He is always moving, always rising, never settling into the feeling that he has arrived.

Why are such people few? There are many tzaddikim and many accomplished people. A person may become a *lamdan*, then a *baki*, then a *ba’al halachah*, and then continue into other areas of Torah. But human nature says: “I have already accomplished. I have arrived.” A *ben aliyah* never speaks that way. He always asks: What is the next level? How can I go higher?

This is the meaning of “*Ra’isi bnei aliyah v’hein mu’atin*.” Many people attain something. Few make continual ascent their identity.

## Returning to “Rav Lachem”

Now we can return to the original question. Klal Yisrael could say: “We have already received tremendous greatness and reward. We have the Torah, the Mishkan, the Menorah, and the *keilim*. We have accomplished.”

Hashem answered: “*Penu u’se’u lachem*.” Do not stand upon one level. Do not say, “*Rav lachem*—I have enough; I am already accomplished.” Turn away from spiritual stagnation and continue traveling. The destination of Har HaEmori is important, but the first command is *aliyah* itself: do not remain fixed upon one *dargah*.

## The Ladder of Yaakov Avinu

The next destination is a separate question: “*U’vo’u Har HaEmori*.” First, however, the Torah establishes the essential obligation to move. A Jew must remain a *holech*.

Yaakov Avinu’s dream gives us the image of this life:

> “A ladder was set upon the earth, and its top reached toward Heaven; and behold, angels of God were ascending and descending upon it” (Bereishis 28:12).

The ladder begins upon the ground, but its top reaches the heavens. There is no final rung upon which a person may settle and declare that the journey is complete. Yaakov Avinu, who represents Torah, lived a life filled with *nisyonos* and constant movement. His ladder embodies *aliyos* and *yeridos*, but above all it embodies a life of ascent.

What is the purpose of each rung? Is a rung itself the destination? Of course not. Each rung exists so that one can reach the next. Imagine a person climbing to the third step and announcing, “I have succeeded; this is where I will remain.” The ladder was not built so that he could stand forever upon the third rung. Every *madrigah* is only a *shlav*—a stage toward the next *madrigah*.

## The Lowest Rung

*Michtav MeEliyahu* cites a teaching on the pasuk:

> “Behold, I will stand before you there upon the rock” (Shemos 17:6).

The Midrash understands Hashem’s words to mean that wherever the feet of a person stand, Hashem stands before him.

What does it mean that Hashem is found by a person’s feet? “Feet” represent the lowest level upon which he presently stands—his current spiritual footing. Hashem meets a person precisely at that point, because that is where his next ascent must begin.

## Where the Yetzer Hara Attacks

A person’s feet represent the *dargah hatachtonah* of his *ruchniyus*—the basic level upon which his entire spiritual life presently stands. That is precisely where Hashem is found, because that is where the person most needs protection and *siyata diShmaya*.

The nachash was told:

> “You will strike him at the heel” (Bereishis 3:15).

The yetzer hara attacks a person at his heel—at the lowest, most basic point of his *avodah*.

A person may say, “I am not a great person, but at least I come to davening.” The yetzer hara begins there: Do not go today. You need more sleep. Why must you be so exact? It attacks the simple mitzvos that form the person’s spiritual footing, the matters that people are tempted to trample with their heel (see Rashi to Devarim 7:12).

Why does the yetzer hara attack there? Because this lowest point is not insignificant. It is the foundation upon which the entire person stands. If that footing is weakened, everything above it is endangered.

## Hashem Stands at the Point of Struggle

The barometer of a person’s *ruchniyus* is often found not in his highest aspirations, but in the simple commitments he guards consistently. Does he maintain the basic mitzvos? Does he protect the lowest standard beneath which he refuses to fall?

That point is where his spiritual *ma’amad* is held. It is where the yetzer hara fights him, and therefore it is where HaKadosh Baruch Hu grants him special help.

Hashem stands “before him” at the place of his feet because the lowest rung is the place from which all further *aliyah* becomes possible.

## The Lowest Point Is a Person’s Beis HaMikdash

Every place upon which a person stands is, in a sense, his Beis HaMikdash. It is the place from which his *aliyah* begins.

“*Sulam mutzav artzah*”—the ladder is planted upon the earth (Bereishis 28:12). Every person has his own *artzah*, his own ground zero. Even if that point is very low, he can begin only from there. If he honestly discovers his weaknesses and recognizes them deeply, he can use that recognition as the foundation upon which to build a ladder of ascent.

This is the meaning of Hashem’s command to Moshe at the burning bush:

> “Remove your shoes from your feet, for the place upon which you stand is holy ground” (Shemos 3:5).

Remove the covering and obstruction from the place of your feet. Expose the point at which the yetzer hara is attacking you. Recognize it and deal with it, because the very place upon which you presently stand can become your *admas kodesh*.

Why can a person’s lowest point be called his Beis HaMikdash? Because that is where his *aliyah* begins.

## The Foundation of the Ladder

What is the most indispensable part of a ladder? Its base. One may have the strongest and most beautiful ladder, but if it rests upon an unstable chair, the entire structure will collapse.

The lowest rung is therefore not merely one rung among many. It is the foundation that makes all upward movement possible. Each later *madrigah* serves the next *madrigah*, but the bottom supports them all.

This is why HaKadosh Baruch Hu is found by the feet of a person. Hashem meets him at the foundation of his *avodah*, at the place from which he can become a *holech*.

## The Angels Ascending and Descending

The Torah says that the angels were “ascending and descending” the ladder (Bereishis 28:12). Rashi explains that the angels who had accompanied Yaakov in Eretz Yisrael ascended, while the angels of Chutz LaAretz descended to accompany him onward (Rashi to Bereishis 28:12).

But why did the angels of Eretz Yisrael ascend before the new angels descended? Should Yaakov not have remained protected until the next group arrived?

Perhaps the order itself expresses our principle. First comes *aliyah*, and only afterward *yeridah*. First comes “*vayisu*,” the movement away from the former stage; then comes “*vayachanu*,” the settling into the next one.

## Aliyah Must Come First

If the encampment were always the *ikar*, the order should be descent and then ascent: settle into a place, and afterward depart toward the next. But if movement itself is the central *avodah*, the order is “*olim v’yordim*”—first ascent, then descent. The Torah presents *aliyah* before *yeridah* because a Jew’s defining motion is upward.

To say, “I have reached great *dargos*,” is already dangerous. The word “reached” implies that the person has arrived and stopped. Once a person settles into his achievement, he is no longer living as a *ben aliyah*. He must be moving from one *dargah* to the next and from that *dargah* to the one beyond it.

## The Ladder as an Escalator

One could picture Yaakov’s ladder almost as the first escalator in the Torah. The angels were not climbing one rung, stopping, and then deciding whether to continue. They were in constant motion—ascending and descending without remaining fixed upon a step.

This is the *yesod* of *aliyah*: not simply that a person occasionally reaches something high, but that he does not stop. We may not always be capable of continuous movement at the same intensity, but the ideal remains clear. A *ben aliyah* does not make any rung his permanent home.

## Two Teachings from Rav Shach

I saw two remarkable teachings from Rav Shach that illuminate this idea. The manner in which I found them was itself striking.

I was away from home for Shabbos because of a bar mitzvah and noticed in the house where I was staying a sefer containing Rav Shach’s Torah on Chumash. I had not seen the sefer in a long time and did not even remember whether I still owned a copy. Late Friday night, at approximately two or two-thirty in the morning, I went through it page by page and found two pieces that remained with me throughout Shabbos.

On the way home, I wanted to review them because their wording had begun to fade from my mind. I asked my brother whether he owned the sefer; he did not. I considered stopping at a yeshivah along the road to search for it.

When I arrived home, I sat near a cluttered place filled with notes and several sefarim. Suddenly, there was the very sefer. I had forgotten that I possessed it. To me, the message was clear: Hashem had placed this Torah before me again because it was meant to be taught.

## Rabbi Akiva Wept: The Sin of Intended Descent

The first teaching from Rav Shach concerns the parashah of *nedarim*. If a woman makes a neder, her husband or father may annul it. What happens if the neder was annulled without her knowledge, and she then violates what she believes is still prohibited?

The Torah says:

> “Hashem will forgive her” (Bamidbar 30:6).

Why does she require forgiveness? In reality, no neder remained in force. The Gemara explains that although the act was not objectively forbidden, she intended to transgress. She ate believing that she was committing an aveirah.

Rabbi Akiva would weep upon reaching this pasuk. If one who intended to eat forbidden meat but actually ate permitted meat still requires *kaparah* and *selichah*, how much more so one who intended to eat forbidden meat and actually did so (Nazir 23a; Kiddushin 81b).

Tosafos asks: ordinarily, a sinful thought alone is not punished as an action. Tosafos answers that here the person acted upon the thought. She translated her intention into conduct, even though the act turned out not to be technically forbidden (Tosafos to Nazir 23a).

## Rav Shach’s Chiddush

Rav Shach explains that this woman did not merely possess an improper thought. In her own mind, she was choosing spiritual descent. She could have used the act of eating correctly, with a brachah and with obedience to Hashem, and thereby experienced *aliyah*. Instead, she chose what she believed to be an aveirah.

Even though no aveirah occurred in fact, she was not seeking to rise. She was moving backward. That failure itself requires *kaparah*.

The lesson extends beyond deliberate sin. Every situation offers some possibility of *aliyah*. A person may have an opportunity to make a brachah, perform a mitzvah, learn, or grow. If he wastes the moment and chooses not to use it, there can be a *tvi’ah* against him—not only for what he did, but for the ascent he could have achieved and abandoned.

## Din and Cheshbon

There is a well-known explanation of “*din v’cheshbon*.” *Din* concerns what a person did. *Cheshbon* concerns what he could have accomplished during the same time.

If a person used a moment for something empty or improper, there is an accounting not only for the act itself, but also for the positive act, mitzvah, or *aliyah* that could have occupied that moment. One who ate forbidden food could instead have eaten permitted food and made a brachah. One who wasted time could have used it to grow. For the lost possibility of ascent, there is also a *tvi’ah*.

## Learning Shelo Lishmah

Tosafos addresses an apparent contradiction. Chazal say:

> “A person should always engage in Torah and mitzvos even *shelo lishmah*, because from *shelo lishmah* he will come to *lishmah*” (Pesachim 50b).

Yet elsewhere Chazal say that one who acts *shelo lishmah* would have been better off not being created (Berachos 17a).

Tosafos explains that the severe statement refers to one who learns *l’kanter*—to provoke, attack, or display superiority over another. Ordinary *shelo lishmah* remains a valid beginning that can lead to *lishmah* (Tosafos to Berachos 17a).

Rav Shach adds another dimension. Certainly, learning *shelo lishmah* is Torah learning, and it may lead to *lishmah*. Nevertheless, at that very moment the person could have learned with a purer intention and risen to a higher *dargah*. There can still be a *tvi’ah*: Why did you remain at the lower form when a greater *aliyah* was available?

A person may answer, “I did not commit an aveirah.” That may be true. But he stood upon the same rung instead of climbing. Man was not created merely to avoid falling. He was created to rise.

## “Do Not Carry Hashem’s Name in Vain”

Rav Shach then cites a striking teaching on the prohibition:

> “You shall not bear the Name of Hashem your God in vain” (Devarim 5:11).

A Pesikta explains that one who accepts a position or responsibility in *avodas Hashem* and then performs it lazily is, in a sense, carrying Hashem’s Name in vain.

He may indeed perform the task. But if he invokes the service of Hashem and then refuses to exercise his full capacity, the Divine Name he carries is not being expressed through the *avodah* as it should be.

## Giving One Hundred Percent

Why is laziness in *avodas Hashem* compared to bearing Hashem’s Name in vain? Rav Shach explains through a Midrash concerning the passing of Rabbi Levi bar Sisi.

The Midrash gives a *mashal* to a king who owned a vineyard of one hundred vines that produced one hundred barrels of wine. Over time, many of the vines dried out, yet the vineyard still produced one hundred barrels. Eventually only one vine remained, and it too produced the full hundred barrels. That single vine became more precious to the king than all the others.

At first glance, the mashal is impossible. If one vine could produce the same quantity as one hundred vines, then the original vineyard should have produced an enormous amount. Rav Shach explains that “one hundred” does not mean merely one hundred barrels. It means one hundred percent.

When many vines produced together, it was impossible to know whether every vine was contributing all its strength. Perhaps some were weak or idle while the others compensated. But when only one vine remained and the full yield continued, it became clear that this vine was giving everything it possessed.

Rabbi Levi was beloved because he gave all his *kochos*. This is the demand of *avodas Hashem*: not merely to produce an acceptable result, but to give one hundred percent of the capacity Hashem granted.

## “Good Enough” Is Not the Standard

A child may return home with a grade of ninety and say, “It is good enough.” Sometimes ninety is indeed a fine mark. But the real question is not the number. Did the child use his ability? If he was capable of more and chose laziness, then “good enough” is not the correct measure.

The same applies in *avodas Hashem*. The issue is not whether another person would consider the achievement respectable. The question is whether I gave all that I could give. Carrying Hashem’s Name while withholding one’s available *kochos* is called “*lashav*”—the *avodah* did not express its full purpose.

## “Penu U’se’u Lachem”: Always Seek the Next Level

In *avodas Hashem*, “one hundred percent” is the measure of good enough. The demand of *aliyah* never permits a person to say, “I have already done enough.”

A mother may tell a child who earned a ninety-five, “Next time, reach ninety-eight.” When the child earns ninety-eight, she says, “Now reach ninety-nine.” The child protests: “You told me ninety-eight!” Yes—when he was at ninety-five, ninety-eight was the next *dargah*. Once he reached it, the next *dargah* changed.

This is “*Rav lachem… penu u’se’u lachem*.” Do not settle upon the level you have attained. The next ascent is now yours to pursue.

## Aliyah Is the Essence of Man

Why do Chazal say regarding certain forms of *shelo lishmah* that it would have been preferable for the person not to have been created? Why should failure to maximize an opportunity of *aliyah* touch the very purpose of creation?

Because man was created to be a *holech*. Movement upward is not an optional enhancement to human life. It is the essence of the person.

Rav Yerucham explains this with the Dor Haflagah. We imagine that they were simply insane when they sought to build a tower whose top would reach the heavens (Bereishis 11:4). But the desire to say, “*Na’aleh larakia*—Let us rise to the heavens,” is not inherently madness. A human being is supposed to desire ascent without limit.

Rav Yerucham explains that *aliyah* is both the beginning of man and his *tachlis*. By the nature of his creation and the very essence of his existence, a person possesses a drive to rise, comparable to his drive to live. Without that aspiration, he is not expressing the full form of an *adam*.

## The Misuse of Ambition

We see ambitious people throughout the world who cannot tolerate a life without achievement. Yet even after they attain what they wanted, they remain dissatisfied.

Why? Because Hashem placed within man a desire for spiritual *aliyah*. The yetzer hara takes that holy drive and redirects it into Olam HaZeh: a larger business, a bigger house, more honor, and another achievement. The person keeps pursuing more, yet he is not happy, because his ambition is being used for something other than the purpose for which it was created.

The drive itself is real and pure: to grow, accomplish, and continue upward. But it must be directed toward *ruchniyus*. Otherwise, man uses the engine of *aliyah* to travel in the wrong direction.

## The Dor Haflagah Redirected the Drive for Aliyah

The Dor Haflagah possessed a genuine human desire to rise, but they directed it toward rebellion and Olam HaZeh. A pure *koach* was misused. That is the tragedy of ambition placed in the wrong destination.

This also explains why a life without *aliyah* can become “*noach lo shelo nivra*”—a life whose very purpose remains unrealized. Man was created to rise. When he does not rise, he will not be satisfied, because he is not living according to his *mahus*.

Try *aliyah*. A person may discover that this is the happiness he has been seeking.

## The Yetzer Hara Says, “Enough”

The yetzer hara tells a person: “You learn. You daven. You keep Shabbos. Enough. Relax.”

There are times when rest is correct. A person may need sleep so that he can serve Hashem properly. A sound *cheshbon* is not laziness. But when the desire to stop comes from *atzlus* and *misrashlus*, surrendering to it will not produce happiness. A person may rest physically, yet inwardly he must remain a *holech*.

This is the force of the pasuk: “*Rav lachem sheves bahar hazeh*.” Notice the word “*sheves*”—sitting. Klal Yisrael had received tremendous greatness at the mountain. The danger was not the mountain; it was sitting permanently upon the level they had gained. Therefore Hashem said: “*Penu u’se’u*—turn and travel.”

## Madrigos Are Rest Areas, Not Homes

The stages of growth are like rest areas along a highway. A rest area is deliberately placed beside the road so that the traveler can pause, regain strength, and return quickly to the journey. It is not a new city in which he is meant to live.

So too, “*vayachanu*” is often a rest area. A person may pause upon a *dargah*, consolidate what he has gained, and gather strength. But the purpose of that station is to enable the next “*vayisu*.”

A man standing on the third rung of a ladder may celebrate that he reached it. But the rung was not designed as a permanent residence. It exists to carry him higher.

## Happiness Through Amal and Accomplishment

*Aliyah* is difficult. It requires struggle. The pasuk says:

> “*Adam l’amal yulad*—Man is born for toil” (Iyov 5:7).

A person may imagine that he will be happier if he avoids effort and simply relaxes. In truth, there is a deep *gishmak* in accomplishment precisely because accomplishment comes through *amal*.

When a person fights, labors, and rises, he feels alive. That happiness is not accidental. It reflects the purpose for which he was created.

This is the lesson of the parashah: never say, “*Rav lachem*—I have enough.” Turn from stagnation. Travel onward for your own good. Each *dargah* is a step toward the next. “*Penu u’se’u lachem u’vo’u*”—leave, journey, and continue toward the next destination.