Rabotai (my teachers), I'm sure you're aware that on Monday nights we learn Chovot HaLevavot (Duties of the Hearts), and we actually landed on a treasure. Just to review what we're doing in this chapter: it's supposed to teach us about bitachon (trust in God). The author digressed a little—a very welcome digression—because he answers an age-old question. Everybody knows that Olam Haba (world of reward) is the tachlit, the purpose, that's the goal. But the rabbi asked: something so central in Judaism, how come there's no mention of it in the Torah itself? Nowhere in the Torah will you find the words Olam Haba next to each other. You don't even find it in the 24 books of the Tanakh (Hebrew Bible). You never find those words, Olam Haba, back to back. Why would the Torah not talk about it? Which means, unless you have a rabbi or went to school, if you were just homeschooled by yourself with a book, you might not know that there's Olam Haba. You don't see it there. So the Rav offers eight answers to this question. Last week we expounded on three of them. Very quickly, I'll review those three, and then we'll try to learn another three tonight.
The first answer we gave was: listen, Olam Haba is a world of souls. It's a world of neshamot (souls), and we can't explain to people the hana'ah, the pleasure, that a soul is going to have in Olam Haba. I can explain physical pleasures: steak, French fries, a cold beer that many of our members can relate to. As a matter of fact, they do relate to it. But I cannot explain to you that your soul is going to have hana'ah. The students say, “Explain it to me.” I can't explain it to you. Only an angel can relate to it. And therefore the Torah will only write things that people can understand. It's not going to write something so esoteric that even the biggest Mekubal (Kabbalist), who's still a human being, cannot define the pleasure of eternity, when you're just going to be soul and not body. So the Torah just skips over it instead of writing it and then letting everybody say, “We don't know what this pasuk (verse) means.” So it just bypassed it.
If you remember last week, we explained the Mishnah based on this. In the Sanhedrin (Sanhedrin), we say before Pirkei Avot (Chapters of the Fathers), “Kol Yisrael yesh lahem chelek le'Olam Haba” (All Israel have a share in the World to Come). We explained that only a chelek of Yisrael goes to Olam Haba. Only a part—that means the word chelek is explaining Yisrael, not Olam Haba. A chelek of Yisrael: which part of Yisrael? The neshamah (soul) of Yisrael goes to Olam Haba, but the guf (body) remains behind.
The second answer I was reviewing: he said that, simply, we don't have to say things that everybody is already aware of. Why are we aware of it? Because this is something that every rabbi taught his student and every father told his child. Olam Haba was spoken about so much that everybody was aware of it. When you went to a Friday night table, that was the idush on the table. The father would talk to the children about eternity. Although today we don't talk about it so much. You guys go to classes all day long; how many times does the rabbi talk about Olam Haba? No, they talk about Parashat HaShavua (weekly Torah portion), they talk about Mishnah, Gemara, all that beautiful stuff, because the Yad Sanadah doesn't want you to talk about Olam Haba. Because he knows once you start talking about Olam Haba, that's the tachlit, or, as we said last week, tachlit, that's the purpose. And therefore he wants to divert you. Talk about anything but Olam Haba. Because once you start talking about Olam Haba, then you get nervous. Now you start to have to worry about your future. Learn, do everything, but don't talk about your future. Don't talk about that world of reward. How many times does the rabbi get up at the pulpit? You don't hear him talking about Allah, and if he starts talking about Allah, you see everybody getting uncomfortable. “What is he talking about? Who died? Who died? Allah only if somebody died.” But people are alive, so why should we talk about it? Even though that's the purpose. So he says the Torah doesn't have to mention it because it was so obvious, so ingrained in the oral tradition, that it didn't have to be mentioned.
We said last week, if you remember, that's the connection between “Moshe kibel Torah miSinai” (Moses received Torah from Sinai), which is the first Mishnah, and the—so you can read it like this: here there is—why isn't it mentioned? This was a tradition that everybody knew about, so you don't have to repeat the obvious.
Third answer. You see, I'm a fair guy. I only drink the coffee if I gave two answers. I didn't just come in. I earned it a little something. Some guys come in and drink the coffee before they start at shiur (Torah class). Say something before you drink. Anyway, the third answer we gave is like this. He said that when you're writing a book, you have to write it according to the mentality of the person reading it. If I'm trying to persuade my child to go to shul (synagogue), and he's eight years old, I tell him about the ice cream, the raffle, all the stuff that goes on, the kids' minyan (prayer quorum), and all the fun stuff. He understands that talk. I'm not going to tell my eight-year-old son, “Listen, if you only knew the tikkun (rectification) of the neshamah in Olam Atzilut (World of Emanation), with the Chagat Nehi, when you go answer Kaddish (sanctification prayer) according to the sefirat (counting) of kates.” What is he talking about? The guy will never go to shul in his life. Finished, you scared him away. What is he talking about? Nehi, Chagat, Chagatam, all these sefirot (divine emanations), partzufim (configurations), Abba (Father), Ima (Mother), this, that. But when he gets older, you know, by 50 he's not going for the ice cream anymore. Then you start to tell him, “Listen, you understand what happens when you answer Kaddish?” Now you're talking in his language.
When the Torah was given, when it was written, at least it was written for the generation that came out of the Midbar (wilderness). They were just entering. They were at an entry level, so you couldn't start telling them, “Keep the mitzvot (commandments) because of some esoteric neshamah.” You needed to tell them, “Listen, if you keep the mitzvot, you're going to get rain. If you keep the mitzvot, there's going to be parnasah (livelihood). If you keep the mitzvot, you're going to be healthy. If you keep the mitzvot, the enemies are not going to fight you.” That was the language they were able to understand at the time. Not to say that after they became more advanced, they could understand the higher things, of course. But when the Torah was given, it was given to the nation, and they would have to speak their language. That was the language they spoke at the time. That's number three.
And now we go to number four. Number four is a big chiddush (novel insight). Basically, he's going to say the reason the Torah doesn't write Olam Haba is that nobody deserves Olam Haba. What do you mean, nobody deserves Olam Haba? We're doing all these mitzvot. You're doing all these mitzvot and you still don't deserve Olam Haba? So the Torah is not going to write something that's not coming to you because of anything you did. It's coming to you as a gift. Therefore, the Torah only tells you things that you deserve, like punishment. Chovot HaLevavot will say, you deserve punishment. Because if you rebel against God, you deserve to get hit. But if you serve God, you don't deserve to get anything. So since you don't deserve it, the Torah doesn't even talk about it. Now let's see how he proves it.
And the—I'm sorry—and one of the reasons is that no man is worthy of the reward of the next world by the hand of the good. You are not deserving of the reward for the good deeds. If that's what you think, that you are going to do good deeds and get in on merit, you are not deserving of that, even after doing all the good deeds. Two items. Now what he's going to tell you is a blockbuster. He's telling you—which means you thought until now—no, he says even after all the good deeds, there are two more items, and it is those two items that get you past the threshold of—now I have to go, so I cannot explain these things. It's tiring to listen, huh? No, I'm getting the door. You're tired; you're listening.
You get reward not only for keeping the mitzvot. If that were the only item, you wouldn't get into Olam Haba. The reward comes for spreading the knowledge to others. For that, God says, “I'll pay you.” Which means your own things that you did are not enough, but you took that Torah to Chad and taught it to others. You guided them to do good. It says, “Those who are—they shine like the stars for eternity.” That means if you want to shine eternally, you have to share the wealth.
“Ve-ne'emar od u-lemochichim yin'am” (And it is further said, “Those who rebuke will have delight”), those who rebuke the people will have delight. “Ve'aleyhem tavo berakat tov” (And upon them will come a good blessing), and upon them will come the berachah (blessing). So to get the berachah and Olam Haba, you have to be mezakeh harabim (one who brings merit to the public). “Vecha'asher mitztaref la'oved Hashem zechut shegaram la'acherim lihyot tzaddikim” (And when the merit of having caused others to become righteous is added to the servant of God).
Now, that's taking your own credit and adding to it that you made other people tzaddikim (righteous people). “Ela zechut mah she'od” (But merit for what else)—and the suffering that he endured, there's also value in that, the suffering he went through to be a tzaddik. It's not easy to be a tzaddik. You have to make a great sacrifice. So there is Olam Haba for the sacrifice and the pain as well. What do you mean? A person who's religious has to make sacrifices, and that inconvenience and difficulty and that tza'ar (suffering) he has to go through, that's where Olam Haba is. Azu na'aseh ra'uy etzla b'oneh l'kabel etzcha na'olam Haba. V'siba shiniti, chesed ha'eluyim n'daba v'toba. So the first reason why we merit Olam Haba is not for what we did for ourselves, but for what we did for others. Kiruv rechokim (bringing those far away closer). That's a big yesod (foundational principle). We see somebody who's mekarev (bringing people closer) people to religion. That's a ticket to Olam Haba. Kiruv rechokim, bringing people back to Israel. Anybody who's part of that movement, who supports it and sponsors it and all that, he's telling you that's a way to get Olam Haba.
Now, I once saw an unbelievable chiddush on this from the Ken of Shalom, the early rabbis of the Bobov dynasty. There's a Gemara or a Midrash that says that when Moshe Rabbeinu went up to the heavens to get the Torah, the angels were giving him a hard time. If you remember, the angels wanted to attack Moshe. They didn't want to give up the Torah. They didn't want to release the book. All of a sudden Moshe Rabbeinu's face changes, metamorphoses, and turns into the image of Avraham Avinu. All of a sudden the angels are looking—it's like a hologram—and they see Avraham Avinu. So God says to the angels, “You're not embarrassed by this man? You don't have any shame? Didn't he bring you in when you were guests? He went and toiled for you.” This is the Midrash. We don't even understand what's going on in this Midrash. First of all, the fact that God changed Moshe Rabbeinu's face to Avraham Avinu—in God's world there's no lying, no sketching around, no pranks, no tricks. If it's Moshe, it's Moshe. Why make him into Avraham Avinu? Not only that, the angels are asking for the Torah, so God says, “Moab? You're not embarrassed? Weren't you a guest in Avraham Avinu's house? Didn't he feed you?” “Yeah, he fed me. I still want the Torah.” What's one thing to do with the other? Just because Avraham Avinu attended to their needs, why is that a reason the angel should not merit the zechut (merit) to have the Torah? This Midrash needs a lot of help.
So he goes on to explain. There are two types of tzaddikim in the world. Both are tzaddikim. However, the second tzaddik is much better. The first tzaddik is a tzaddik to himself. He locks himself up in a room. He gets a sefer (religious book), buries his head in the book, and learns all day. He's not interested in teaching anybody. He's not bothered by me. He's not interested in students. He's not interested in any outreach. He just wants to develop his own talents, his own chokhmah (wisdom). Tzaddik. You find a guy like that, go kiss his hand, get a berachah.
However, there's another tzaddik, and that tzaddik is a little different. He learns, of course. You cannot teach unless you learn. A lifeguard cannot save people unless he knows how to save himself first. But the second tzaddik, after he learns and learns and learns, is willing to go out and share the Torah with other people and bring the people back, even though by doing that he's going to stunt his own growth. Because if he stays in the bed with Raj, he can reach much higher levels. Now that he has to go after the people, he has to talk to them about lower things that are beneath him to bring the people back. That, the tzaddik says, the Ikerem Shalomor is greater than the first one. Why? Because the whole key of Judaism is that Judaism continues. Judaism is built like a chain link, like a necklace. You have links, links, links, links. Now, if all the people who are religious are just going to sit in a room and learn by themselves and not teach, the link is going to be broken. Once the link is broken, there's no more electricity of Judaism going through the wires. So these people who go out and teach are actually responsible for keeping Judaism alive, and they're selfless people.
The Rambam has a question. The Rambam's question is, why did God choose Avraham Avinu and not choose Shem Ve'Ever to be the powers of Judaism? Shem Ve'Ever had a yeshiva. Abraham was a student in that yeshiva for a while. So why does Abraham become the first Jew, we'll call him? You have Shem Ve'Ever. They came before Abraham. Shem was the son of Noah. He was a religious guy. So the Rambam answers that Shem Ve'Ever were very good. They had a yeshiva. If you came to Shem Ve'Ever, they taught you. You come to them, they'll teach you, no problem. Avraham Avinu went to the people. Avraham Avinu went to the houses. Avraham Avinu went to the offices. Avraham Avinu went to the place over there to mezakeh the people. God says, “That's what type of tzaddik I'm looking for. I'm looking for a tzaddik that doesn't hold it to himself. He goes to the people and shares it.”
Gemara says, Midrash as well, “Chaviv Avraham” (Abraham is beloved)—Abraham is greater than Noah. Why? Noah is tzaddik. Noach was a righteous man. However, the pasuk says Noach is tzaddik; it says, “Noach ish tzaddik tamim” (Noah was a righteous, wholehearted man). He was not only a tzaddik; he was a tamim. He was both, a tzaddik and a tamim. What is a tzaddik and what is a tamim? The rabbi says a tzaddik is somebody who is personally a tzaddik. Tamim (wholehearted), however, is somebody who completes others. Tamim is somebody who takes his Torah and brings people back. He proves it from a pasuk. The pasuk says, “Torat Hashem temimah” (The Torah of Hashem is perfect). The Torah is complete. When is it complete? “Meshivat nafesh” (restoring the soul). When it brings people back, then it's temimah (complete). But as long as the tzaddik is learning and the people around him are not, the Torah is incomplete. It's not fulfilling its job. So in the beginning of Noach's career, Noach was a tzaddik and he was a tamim. He did both. He learned himself and he was trying to bring the people back.
People don't realize that. That's what I'm telling you. Thank you very much. Thank you very much. You come here to learn what you don't know, not what you think you know. In this pasuk, it says, “Noach ish tzaddik tamim.” In his generation, originally he was a tzaddik and a tamim. But you know what? It got difficult. It got difficult. These people were giving him a hard time, these religious people. At the end, the pasuk says God tells Noach, “Go on to the teva (ark).” They dropped the tamim. Noach gave up. God says, “What happened to the tamim?” And the way the Alshich learns the pasuk, God is saying this pasuk rhetorically: “Ki otcha ra'iti tzaddik lefanai bador hazeh” (For I have seen you righteous before Me in this generation)—your tzaddik is only lefanai. I don't want a tzaddik lefanai. I want a tzaddik to the people. And then God says, with a question mark, “Bador hazeh” (in this generation)? In this generation you decided to be a tzaddik? This is the generation that needs the most help. If any generation needed a tamim, it's this generation. “Ki otcha ra'iti tzaddik lefanai bador hazeh.” And that's why God tells Noach to go into the teva. He says the teva was a punishment. If God wanted to save Noach, He should have told him, “Listen, here's a free round-trip ticket. You can go to Israel. There's no flood in Israel. When the flood's over, we'll fly you back first class.” Going on to the teva was a punishment because God punishes you. You wanted to be secluded? You wanted to be by yourself? Good, go seclude yourself in the teva. Go seclude yourself in the teva. You don't want to be with the people? It was a punishment.
He says we cannot overemphasize the importance. Avraham Avinu was different. Abraham Avinu went out to the people. Therefore God chose him. Chaviv Avraham miNoach (Abraham is beloved over Noah). And the rabbi is giving a mashal (parable), the difference between Noah and Abraham. They say it like this: Walk into a room; everybody is standing there. It's freezing cold in the winter. It's freezing cold. The first guy comes in and says, “Wow, how cold it is.” He goes to the closet, takes out a fur coat, and puts it on. He's warm, but everybody else is still cold. But the real tzaddik, what does he do? He goes, gets wood, gets wood, puts it in the middle of the room, and makes a fire. Now everybody benefits. They say Noach was a tzaddik in a fur coat. Avraham Avinu made a fire in order to benefit everybody else. That's the difference. That's why God tells Avraham, God tells Avraham, “You're a tamim.” Tamim means he was able to bring the people back.
Now watch, there's a pasuk in Devarim (Deuteronomy). The way the Kirim Shulman explains the pasuk is like this: There's a tzaddik that's called a tzaddik nistar. What does it mean, tzaddik nistar? He's a tzaddik but he's hidden. You know, nobody knows. A few guys know. They go into his room, you have to knock on the door, and he lets you in. You sit down with him. He's hidden; he doesn't really go out. Tzaddik nistar. I met a lot of these tzaddikim. There used to be a guy in Eretz Yisrael (Land of Israel). He used to sell tzitzit (ritual fringes). There's a store on the corner. Everybody knew this guy was a tzaddik in this town. He makes himself up. He's selling tzitzit. But you go in there and tell him, “Hacham, I need a berachah.” He says, “Why are you wasting my time? I'm selling arba kanfot (four-cornered garment). What size are you?” “Okay, Hacham, I know the shtick (routine). I need a berachah.” He pushes you three, four times. Then he says, “Okay.” He shuts the door. He takes you in the back. But he looks like a regular guy. I have the tzaddikim nistarim. You have tzaddikim who sit in the yeshiva all day long; they're learning. Who do they benefit? The pasuk says, “Ha-nistarot laShem Eloheinu” (The hidden things belong to Hashem our God). Hashem benefits from them. But then you have “ha-niglot” (the revealed things). Then you have the tzaddikim that are niglot, they're revealed. They go out and they doresh (expound), and they give and strengthen and all that. Who benefits from that? “Lanu ulvanenu” (to us and to our children). Now Judaism can continue perpetuating. Now Judaism goes to the next generation. Ad olam (forever). On the niglot, you give Judaism a perpetuation. You give Judaism a future. Whereas the nistarot, the kids are not going to know who the nistarot are.
Based on this, there was nobody greater than Moshe Rabbeinu. “Lo kam navi keMoshe” (No prophet arose like Moses). What does it mean, “Lo kam navi keMoshe”? Moshe Rabbeinu reached the 49th level of chokhmah (wisdom) or binah (understanding). There are 50 levels of binah. He reached almost the highest madrigah (spiritual level). That means he understood the Torah on—he learned it with God. You know, God, I have a chavruta (study partner) in the afternoon; he's a big rabbi. I struggle to keep up with him. If I get 10% of what he's spinning, I had a good day today. Avraham Avinu—Moshe Rabbeinu is learning with God. Do you know what type of chavruta that is? How fast does God's brain work? You have to keep up with the chiddush. We come to a class; we have a hard time keeping up. God is learning with Borei Olam (Creator of the World). He's giving him all the goods. God doesn't hold back anything. It's not like He watered it down. He gave him the full version. And Moshe is holding on.
What does the pasuk say? When Moshe Rabbeinu came down from the mountain, “Vayered Moshe min hahar el ha'am” (Moses descended from the mountain to the people). He came down from the mountain; right away he went to the people. So if you look at Rashi over there, Rashi writes, “Melamed shelo haya poneh la'asakav” (teaching that he did not turn to his personal affairs). He didn't go to his personal business. “El ha'am” (to the people). But Rashi doesn't tell us what Moshe Rabbeinu's personal business was, as if he had personal business to take care of. The person was not, yishtabach shehuva. Moshe Rabbeinu is unbelievable. He put his personal business on the side, his esek (business or occupation), and went straight to the people. What was his esek? Would he have a candy store? What was his esek?
So he explains it like this: For tzaddikim, their esek is Torah and learning. If Moshe Rabbeinu had just gotten the Torah from God, now he wanted to go back and review the Torah, understand it, and give chiddushim. He had just received a treasure. Now he wanted to go in and review it by himself and understand it on a deeper level, a level he could reach according to his understanding. So it says Moshe Rabbeinu, instead of getting involved in his esek, his personal spiritual growth, “Vayered Moshe min hahar el ha'am”; he went straight to the people. Now there's no way what he did with the ha'am was going to be on the level of his esek. But clearly he was willing to give up his esek to lower himself to the people; otherwise, you don't have a future. And this is the greatness of Moshe Rabbeinu. Like it says in the Mishnah, Pirkei Avot, “Moshe zachah vezikah” (Moses merited and brought merit), “zechut harabim talui bo” (the merit of the public depends on him). Moshe Rabbeinu had zechut, and that zechut zikah. And therefore zechut harabim talui bo. And therefore he did not minimize himself by going to teach the people.
So now he goes like this. This is how he explains it. Moshe Rabbeinu goes up to get the Torah, with Shavuot (Festival of Weeks) in a few weeks. Moshe Rabbeinu goes up to get the Torah. The angels make their protest. The Torah stays up in heaven. What was their claim? Why should the Torah stay up in heaven? What benefit would the Torah provide in heaven? What's their claim? So do you know what their claim was? I said, “God, who's going to understand the book more deeply, a human or a Malach (angel)?” The humans are not going to be able to delve into the secrets, the Kabbalah (Jewish mysticism), the Pardes (esoteric interpretation), the Sodot (mysteries). If you're looking for quality, if you're looking for quality, the Torah should remain in heaven, and you'll see a yeshiva of angels learning Torah. It'll be a real yeshiva, yehiva shalala. It'll be a very strong yeshiva, all geniuses. Therefore, if you're looking for intellectual people in Torah, don't give it to the people. If you give it to the people, human beings are limited.
So he says like this, we can understand it better. What are you giving it to them for? What? The Torah will elevate us, and the higher we become, the higher we can serve you, so the glory will all go to God. God will have a great benefit. So therefore they were asking God, keep the Torah nistar (hidden). Keep the Torah in heaven. Keep it locked up. And who's going to benefit? “Ha-nistarot laShem Eloheinu.” The service of the angels will be on a higher level because we'll have the Torah; we'll be able to understand it properly.
All of a sudden they look at Moshe Rabbeinu's face, and Moshe Rabbeinu's face turns to Avraham. You know what God says? “Shame on you.” He says, “When you visited Avraham that day, what was Avraham doing before you visited him? He was talking to Hashem. The Shechinah (Divine Presence) was talking to him. ‘Vayera elav Hashem be'elonei Mamre, vehu yoshev petach ha'ohel kechom hayom’” (Hashem appeared by the oaks of Mamre as he sat at the tent entrance in the day's heat). Could you get on a higher level than that? And what did Avraham—He told God, “Borei Olam, although I am benefiting a lot, it's more important that I benefit the people.” He said, “You people are coming along, you angels, and you are claiming it's for you and the Torah will be studied and all that. I am not interested in that Torah, that selfish Torah. Look what Avraham Avinu did. Avraham Avinu stunted his own growth in order to benefit three total strangers. That's what I am looking for.” And Moshe Rabbeinu has that midat Avraham Avinu (the quality of Abraham). Because the pasuk says—the pasuk says—he did the same thing. And therefore, when God turned Moshe Rabbeinu's face to Abraham, He wasn't tricking anybody. Moshe had to be the image of Abraham. That means the zechut, why we have the Torah, is so it can be disseminated, not only so we can take a book and learn by ourselves.
I once asked a big Mekubal, I said, at a certain point in my career, I was questioning whether I should go out now and start teaching or maybe spend more time privately. This was the question I asked him. He said, “Well, of course there's value in building yourself. The more you build yourself, the more you're able to build others. However, at a time of war, you need all hands on deck. In a time of war, we don't tell the soldiers, ‘Well, you still need to practice. Just go out in the front lines.’” He said, “In our generation there's a war. The Satan's gone berserk, and there are casualties all over the place. And therefore, even somebody who has a little experience must go out in order to bring people back. He must go take the nefashot (souls) and turn them into hachamim.” And therefore that's the key to Olam Haba.
The key Torah, what the Leviticus says, is like we were in the pre-Kabbalah the other day: if you learned a lot of Torah, the Mishnah says, if you learned a lot of Torah, it simply means don't pat yourself on the back. If you learned a lot of Torah—I don't know how much I learned—you were created for that. If the pilot lands the plane in Kennedy and he says, “Please, please,” the stewardess says, “Reb Otah, on the way out, please give the captain a standing ovation.” What did he do? He landed the plane. That's why he's being paid to land the plane. If he got us in an hour early and was able to figure out a way to get the plane there early, if we get our luggage on time, that will give him a standing ovation. But for landing a plane, he wants a reward for that? So the Mishnah says, if you learned a lot of Torah, don't say, “Hey, I finished this.” “Kamdai, kilei kach notzarta” (For this you were created). You were created to do that. That's your purpose.
But I explain the Mishnah differently, based on what I heard from Hacham Baruch. Hacham Baruch explained the Mishnah like this. The Torah is called Tova (goodness). “Ki lekach tov natati lachem, Torati al ta'azovu” (For I have given you good instruction; do not forsake My Torah). The Torah is called Tova. So it says, “Im lamadta Torah harbeh” (If you have learned much Torah). If you learn the Torah a lot, “al tachazik tovah la'atzmecha” (Do not keep the good for yourself)—don't keep it to yourself. “Al tachazik tovah la'atzmecha,” don't keep—don't hog up the Torah for yourself. Give it out to the next guy. “Ki lekach notzarta” (For this you were created). That's why you were created. The pasuk says, “Adam la'amal yulad” (A person is born to toil). Hacham Baruch would say, “Le'amal l'shetevot. Le'lmod al menat lelamed” (to learn in order to teach). Your job is to teach others. Somebody's drowning, and I'm learning. Who are you learning? What learning? Stop your learning and go save the guy. “No, I'm learning.”
He said the following. The pasuk writes—and then the pasuk ends by saying—the Gemara learns from this pasuk, “If your Rabbi is like an angel, then study; but if he's not like an angel, don't study from him.” So they ask, how do we know if the rabbi is like an angel or not? All the rabbis think they're angels. What does it mean that if your rabbi is like an angel, then study Torah from him? What's the barometer, what's the litmus test I give my rabbi to know if he's an angel or not? So Hacham Yisra would say like this: There's a big difference between humans and angels. Angels in the Navi are called omdim (those who stand). Human beings are called mehalchim (those who walk). “Venatati mehalchim bein ha'omdim ha'ele” (I will give you access among those who stand here). A human being is called a holech (one who walks), and an angel is called an omed (one who stands). What does it mean? Angels cannot progress. They are stationary. An angel is created on a certain spiritual level; that's the level. An angel cannot become a better angel. It is what it is. That's the madrigah it has. It's omed. It's stagnant. Whereas a human being is called a mehalich. Human beings keep moving up and up and up, to higher and higher levels. And there's no limit. The road of life keeps moving up and up, on unlimited rungs of the ladder.
You know who a good rabbi is? A good rabbi is a rabbi who's willing to stunt his own growth and remain stagnant to teach the children, to teach the people. If a rabbi looks like an angel, if he makes himself an omed, then learn from that guy. Because he's L'shem Shamayim (for the sake of Heaven). Because instead of teaching al pi (according to), you can sit in Wea Raham Baruch in eighth grade. What was he teaching us? I mean, at the time, for us, it was a lot. But on his level, he didn't even open up a book. He taught us for one year without opening up a sefer. Everything was Baal Peh (by heart), even though he had a great memory. But you know why he didn't have to? Because he repeated that class for 40 years. He knew the curriculum by heart, and he taught it to us with the energy as if it were the first time he was ever teaching it. Imagine teaching the same thing 40 years in a row. That's the foundation of the community. And what if he had stayed and learned by himself? He would have been the chief rabbi of Israel. He could have been. What did he do instead? He came and taught children. So you say to yourself, “Waste of talent.” Wrong. On the contrary, that's what Hashem wants. Hashem wants me to be a Malach that limits his own growth for the sake of the nation, and that's what the pasuk says. That's the key. He went from the high place to the lowest place. He did not deal with his esek, with his—and all the high levels. And that's what God told the angels. “That's your mistake. Shame on you. Look at Avraham Avinu. He's willing to lower himself from talking to God to go talk to three strangers. That's what I'm interested in.” Moshe Rabbeinu zach Avraham, zachah vezikah, zechut harabim talui bo. And that's what Hacham Chovot HaLevavot says here. Hacham Chovot HaLevavot says the first merit you get, if you want to earn it, is zechut harabim.
I was once—I'll tell you an honest story, even though it incriminates me, but nonetheless, live and learn, as they say. One time I was in Eretz Yisrael, and there was a rabbi from New York whom I know, I'm familiar with. He knows me, and he's very, very friendly with a very big rabbi. I was standing next to him, and the big rabbi tells this guy, “Who's this guy next to you?” So he says, “Oh, this is mezakeh harabim (one who brings merit to the public) from New York.” At the time, what is a mezakeh harabim? What is a mezakeh harabim? This is a rabbi; he has a congregation, he has a dafayim, mezakeh harabim. To me, it sounded like mezakeh harabim, some yo-yo from New York. He tells stories. Later on I realized that that's the greatest compliment you can give a guy according to this. To be mezakeh harabim is not a small thing. That's the key to Olam Haba. I don't believe he had that kavanah (intention). He was probably trying to shamble me. I'm not saying he knew that kavanah, but at least it made me feel better. He was probably trying to lower me a little: “Ah, some Mizrahi, Yusmin, you know, he runs a Yusmin, he gives out the ice cream.” No problem, I have no problem.
Now he's going to go into why Olam Haba is charity. Unless you're Mizrahi, otherwise everything else you're going to get in Olam Haba is charity. Why? He quotes: “Why isn't he deserving of Olam Haba even if he has enough deeds to equal the sand on the beach? It's not enough payment for what God does for you for one thing in this world.” Which means you owe God. Whatever you're doing already is payment for what you got. So you can't ask for reward for that. “We gave you already. I gave you everything.” So you can't ask for reward for that. God gave you it, especially if we make sins. If we make sins already, then we owe God that much more.
And if the blessed reward is required from a person of a leadership that knows how to satisfy the good that he has received, then, if God charged us for what He gives us, there would be a total of 9.0 times the best reward that the blessed reward gives us. All the bits of water that we did would not be able to pay God back for the smallest thing that we did. One thousand thousand, thousands of thousand, thousands of thousands, thousands of thousands of thousands, and the reward that God gives us—nobody comes along and says, “I earned a lot of money.” If anything, if you're lucky, you're even with God. If you're lucky, you're even. But it's not even. So even after all that we gave God, you paid Him a penny and He gave you a zillion dollars, and you want reward for that too? But He only gives him a kind of mercy from the Creator. That's mercy. But the punishment for sins in this world or the next world comes to a person from the other side. Punishment he deserves, because punishment—if a guy does wrong to God, after all that God does for us, to the souls that man himself is in charge of, but the Creator is in charge of us in both worlds, so they forgot that's mercy.
The pasuk says, “What does it mean? God is about chesed (kindness).” Where do we see the chesed of God? Where do you see God's chesed? What does that mean? God will reward the person according to his actions. And I ask a simple question: why is that chesed? Chesed would be if God gave me a reward for doing nothing. That's chesed. But it says, you know what? God is such a God that He rewards us for what we did. And the explanation is that God considers it as if we did something. That's the chesed. We did nothing. At the end of the day, God gave us everything. He gives us life. Which means, try to put on tefillin (phylacteries) if God didn't give you a head. Try to, like you said, hang him in his house. If God didn't give you a house, try to give tzedakah (charity) if God didn't give you money. God said, no matter what you did, I was there before you always. You can't beat me. You're going to come and tell me you went and built a sukkah (booth)? Who gave you a backyard? Who gave you a front porch? Who gave you the wayward? Who gave you arms to build a sukkah? Who gave you eyes to see? So whatever you're going to tell me, God says, already you owe me. Because I came first. God says, if somebody can come before me, I'll pay. But nobody ever comes before me. You always have to start with God giving you something, and then you can give back. So therefore, anytime you do something, you already owe Him. If you could find me someone who precedes me, he should get paid.
So therefore the pasuk says, “You know why? You pay us as if we did it, even though we didn't, even though it's payback.” It's like a guy lends me a million dollars. I come back and say, “Well, you did me an unbelievable hajj. You lent me a million dollars. So I want to pay you back.” “Okay, pay me back a million.” “I don't have a million to pay you back. So I'd like to pay you back. I have a quarter, a 1973 quarter.” You owe me a million dollars. You're coming back to pay me back a quarter for the million dollars? Now imagine the guy gets the quarter and says, “What? You pay me back a quarter? I want to reward you for paying me back a quarter. Here's 10 million dollars.” That's exactly what's happening here. Which means Borei Olam gives us everything. We do a few mitzvot, we pay Him back a quarter, and then He gives us all our money paying him back a quarter. That's how it's said. You make it as if we did something. Which means if you gave the guy—let's say we gave the guy the million, he gave us a million, we paid him back a million, we're even. “Even Stephen,” as you call it; he doesn't owe me for paying him back. Here we don't pay back in full, and Borei Olam pays us eternity for making a small little down payment on a debt that we'll never be able to pay back. It's beyond. But there's another interpretation. We'll stop over here.
You see, we only got to one answer tonight. And by the way, that might explain the Mishnah as well. We start the Mishnah, “Kol Yisrael yesh lahem chelek le'Olam Haba,” and what's the first teaching in the first Mishnah? “Veha'amidu talmidim harbeh” (Establish many students). The Mishnah, by the way, is saying it's not enough to learn; you have to teach many students. Therefore, “Kol Yisrael yesh lahem chelek le'Olam Haba.” You want to get a lot of Olam Haba? “Veha'amidu talmidim harbeh.” Make sure you teach students. Don't keep the Torah to yourself.
But the Baal Shem Tov once explained this pasuk: God is going to not necessarily reward, but punish a person according to his actions. That's a chesed. God is going to do us a chesed. Do you know what a chesed is? He is going to punish us according to our actions. I would have said, “Do me a chesed, don't punish me at all.” No, He is going to punish us according to our actions. So the Maggid miDubna gives a mashal. The Baal Shem says the same thing. He says there were two armies fighting. In the modern world, before they go out to fight, they bring out all the preparatory soldiers to set up the field because all the soldiers need to get communications. There's no communications in the field, so they set up wires all over the field and they have networks and all that. So when the soldiers go out, with walkie-talkies, they can know exactly where everybody is. Otherwise, if there's no communication between the command center and the pilots and the marines and the navy, nobody can coordinate anything. So the logistical teams go out beforehand and set up all the wiring underground, so people can talk.
Now, during the middle of a war, the command center is telling the navy, “The enemy's over there,” when we need a missile over there, and everybody's moving. It happens that some guy who has nothing to do with anything is wandering and finds himself in the middle of this field where they're fighting. He had no idea what's going on. His pants are loose on him. His pants are falling off, and he needs a belt. He sees a long wire on the ground. He says, “You know something, I know this wire doesn't belong to me.” He knows it doesn't belong to him. He takes out scissors, cuts the wire, and puts it on his belt. It's a belt; it works out. Meanwhile, the communications stop. All of a sudden, there are planes falling out of the sky, boats sinking, and soldiers dying all over the place. The guy killed 10,000 people, and he's walking around with the belt. All of a sudden, the army does an investigation. What happened over here? Sure enough, they trace the guy and bring him to a military court. They tell the guy, “Are you aware, are you aware of the crime that you did?” The guy said, “Listen, he caught me red-handed.” He takes out five dollars. He says, “I did an assessment of how much this piece of cord that I stole is. I assume it's about five bucks. I'm willing to pay five bucks.” They said, “You think that's what you did?” “What did I do? I stole.” “Were you aware that this was attached to a whole army?” “I had no idea. What I saw was the piece there.” The Maggid miDubna says, when a person makes an averah (transgression), he speaks Lashon Hara (harmful speech). So he thinks, “I heard this guy a little.” If you'd only realize the damage he does in the Shamayim (Heaven), you don't see that part. You only see, okay, a guy on Shabbat turned on the light. Okay, what did he do? If you only saw the collateral damage he did in the Olamot (worlds), the destruction that takes place over there. But you know what the chesed Hashem (kindness of Hashem) does? God only punishes him according to what he did. He's not going to punish him for all the collateral damage. It's a chesed. You thought you did this? Okay, you'll pay the five bucks and we'll call it even. Even though you have to know, it was much worse. That's a chesed. “Ki atah teshalem” (For You repay), meaning teshalem, in punishment. “Ki ma'asehu” (according to his deed).
Nonetheless, we see over here yet another reason why Olam Haba cannot be written. According to this reason, you know why it wasn't written? Because the Torah only writes things that you deserve. Punishments you deserve, so it writes about them. But Olam Haba is a matana (gift). And since it's a gift, the Torah is not going to say, “If you do the mitzvot, you're going to get Olam Haba,” as if you earned it. The Torah is not going to write that. Exactly. The Torah is saying, if God wants to give you a gift, He'll give you a gift. And He does. But to write that, to state it, would sound as if, do this and you're going to get this as if you own it, and it's really not the case. But look how kind that Kaddosh Baruch Hu (the Holy One, Blessed be He) is, that we don't pay Him back in full, and the little that we pay Him back, He pays us eternity for.
And this is what it says again in the—so now we have already four reasons. We have four more to go, just like we're learning about the—