Rebbetzen Tziporah

 Dear friends,

When I was a child, I knew exactly what angels looked like. My grandmother would hang an illustrated Jewish calendar in her entrance hall every year. They were always effeminate, Aryan, and about 20 years old. They came equipped with wings and halos.

When he heard that Eisov was headed towards him, Yaakov sent malachim, and Rashi adds, “Malachim mamash” – the real deal.

The word malach means agent, or messenger. It is used to describe the forces that Hashem uses to enact His will in this world without revealing His presence. This is, in some ways, the way your body is your soul’s messenger. We all have 248 visible limbs and organs. The way we use them reveals what we are thinking and feeling and what we want to happen. There are 248 positive commandments, each one being a spiritual channel to give expression to a specific limb or organ. 

When your agents are doing Hashem’s will, He sends down His agents to give you what you need to continue toward the destination for which you were created.  On Shabbos, the Sfas Emmes says, the flow of Hashem’s life-force is so great that the malachim that He sends are drawn down not because of what we do, but because we refrain from “doing” the kind of actions that reflect your creativity and your desire to control the world around you. 

This kind of “doing” is called malachah, sending the messengers that you generally use to get your will done, are put aside to make room in your heart to receive the direct flow of Hashem’s will and creativity. Consciously doing this not only changes your relationship with Shabbos but will also go beyond Shabbos into the following week. How will this look? You will find it easier to notice that it is Hashem’s agents that are in your path as you live your life, and it is He who is the life force that gives existence to every interaction that you have with His world.

Years ago, one of my students, Jackie, had a real challenge on one of the first Shabbosim that she kept. She was rather heavy, but she compensated by being a great dresser. Every outfit was perfect, the best brands, the best cut, and best colors. Her makeup was refined and applied with a great deal of care. 

In her real pre-Neve life she was a professional, and her image was very much part of how she perceived her identity as such. She cut out a significant part of Friday to pull it together, select the outfit, put on Shabbos makeup, and have a spare outfit (besides the three put aside) just in case. The night meal went well. 

She enjoyed the feeling of being in a higher and unique space and felt that everything that she learned about Shabbos being an exalted time was real. The next day she walked to her seudah in the Old City. It was a hot day, and her outfit was completely white. 

A short time at the Kotel, the walk up to the Rova, and the relaxed lengthy Carlebach-style meal with people who eventually became her friends were beyond anything she ever dreamed of. It was a short Shabbos, and it was clear that the third meal would take place after just a short time, but every moment was so precious that each dish had a taste of Olam Haba. Until desert. The chocolate cream hidden innocently inside the pastry she enjoyed escaped the confines of the spoon and dripped on to her jacket. 

Yes, her white jacket. Her first response was to excuse herself with the intent of heading to the bathroom to wipe off the stain before it could set. Something held her back. It was the combination of what she had learned in her halacha class combined with the experiential recognition of what Shabbos is meant that kept her glued to her seat. 

The benchers were given out, used and it was time to go. She rather self-consciously asked her hosts if she could spend the rest of the afternoon with them, and skip the third meal. Walking up Rechov Chabad to her assigned family with a stained jacket was beyond anything she would consider doing. 

The silence of her hosts was very loud. “We are actually going to Rechavia to spend the rest of the day with friends who are in from the States and expecting us about now.” They didn’t have to say the next sentence – it was obvious. 

They wanted to leave, lock the door and be on their way. Walking leisurely could have taken her to her next meal just a bit early, but the years in which she had trained herself to not let her outside appearance betray the image that she had so carefully developed.... The bathroom door was there. No one would ask questions. She would wash off the stain, and be on her way.

But she didn’t.

She thanked her hosts, headed out to the street, and faced the world. It was as bad as she knew it would be. She shared the ordeal with her madrichah who shared it with me. I recalled the Rashi that focuses on Yaakov’s words when he re-introduced himself to Eisov. 

“Im Lavan garti” were his opening words, “I stayed with Lavan.” The word garti (I stayed) is taryag in gematria-613. The hidden message was that “While I dwelled with Lavan, I kept 613 mitzvos”. This was not just a message to Eisov. It’s a message for us. 

The fact that he kept the mitzvos in Lavan’s house, a place where right and wrong were exchanged by everyone but Yaakov and his family, enabled him to do what the first words of the parshah tell us. The force that his deeds generated made it possible for him to send angels, real ones, before him when he encountered Eisov.

Did Jackie send real angels before her? Not visible ones. Shortly after the Shabbos in the Rova, one of the local shadchanim called her, and her vort was celebrated soon after. The angels of shidduchim were sent, the engagement and marriage took place.

May we all be worthy of mirroring Yaakov; live, making decisions like Jackie’s, and bringing down malachaim to give us what each of us needs. Now. Soon.

Love,  Tziporah