Lost and Found

The Role of the Tzaddikim in Finding What We Lost

R’ Simlai taught the following Baraita about the developing Jewish child in his mother’s womb (Niddah 30b): ונר דלוק לו על ראשו וצופה ומביט מסוף העולם ועד סופו…ואין לך ימים שאדם שרוי בטובה יותר מאותן הימים…ומלמדין אותו כל התורה כולה…וכיון שבא לאויר העולם בא מלאך וסטרו על פיו ומשכחו כל התורה כולה (And a candle is lit for him on his head, and [with it] he peers out and sees from one end of the world to its [other] end…and a man experiences no days with more bliss than those days…and they [angels] teach him the entire Torah…and when he emerges into the air of the world, an angel comes and slaps him on his mouth, and he forgets the entire Torah).

Why teach the entire Torah to the child and then cause him to forget it? It seems just a tad bit futile.

One answer is that even though the Torah itself is forgotten, a trace [רְשִׁימוּ, reshimu] of it remains embedded in the child’s subconscious mind for whenever anyone returns from an exalted transcendental experience (such as “seeing from one end of the world to its other end”), a trace of that experience remains with him forever. There are two main benefits to this reshimu. For example, it becomes the root of all novel Torah insights that he will have the opportunity to bring out later in life as he immerses himself in the Torah once again, and it acts as a shield or buffer against sufferings that he will surely experience as a result of being thrust in this physical world (Likutei Moharan 65:5).

The second answer is that without the child being first taught all of the Torah before his birth, the Yetzer ha-Ra would have first claim on the child upon birth. However, by being taught the entire Torah prior to birth, the Yetzer ha-Tov gets first claim over the child. This is very important and has far-reaching legal ramifications that will accrue for the benefit of the child. That may explain why the child is taught the whole Torah before birth, but why must he be made to forget it all? The answer is that Hashem desires to reward His children, but to do that the possibility of punishment must exist in addition to the possibility of reward. This necessitates that His children fight a war against the Yetzer ha-Ra and overcome it (Ta’amei HaMinhagim U’Mekorei HaDinim 902).

But how does a slap on his mouth lead to forgetfulness? A clue is provided in the Gemara where we are told that an angel came down and slapped Achashverosh on the mouth in order to stop him from continuing his rant against the Jewish People (Megillah 16b on Esther 9:12). Here, a slap on the mouth leads only to the cessation of speaking. How is this connected to forgetfulness? It is written in Pirkei Avot 3:8: כָּל הַשּׁוֹכֵחַ דָּבָר אֶחָד מִמִּשְׁנָתוֹ מַעֲלֶה עָלָיו הַכָּתוּב כְּאִלּוּ מִתְחַיֵּב בְּנַפְשׁוֹ (Whoever forgets [even] one word of his learning, Scripture considers it as if he made his soul liable [to the death penalty]). And the only way to prevent oneself from forgetting is to constantly review what one has learned. Therefore, a slap on the mouth leads to a cessation of speaking which, in turn, leads to forgetting one’s learning. Much more could be said about this, but this will have to suffice for now.

What concept lies at the root of forgetting? It is taught in Likutei Moharan 188: וְהַשִּׁכְחָה הִיא בְּחִינַת אֲבֵדָה, כְּמוֹ שֶׁקָּרְאוּ רַבּוֹתֵינוּ זִכְרוֹנָם לִבְרָכָה אֶת הַשּׁוֹכֵחַ אוֹבֵד, כְּמַאֲמָרָם זַ”ל (אבות פ”ה): מָהִיר לִשְׁמֹעַ וּמָהִיר לְאַבֵּד (Forgetfulness is an aspect of loss, just as our Rabbis of blessed memory called ‘one who forgets’, ‘one who loses’, as in their statement [Pirkei Avot 5:12]: ‘Quick to hear, quick to lose’). Applying this idea to the teaching of R’ Simlai, we can understand that when the angel slaps the child on the mouth, he loses all of his Torah. We’ll return to the ramifications of this in a bit, but first let’s explore the idea of loss a little more.

R’ Natan explains in Likutei Halachot (Choshen Mishpat, Hilchot Matanah 5:74): כִּי כָּל הָאֲבֵדוֹת חַס וְשָׁלוֹם נִמְשָׁכִין מִפְּגַם הַדַּעַת שֶׁהוּא בְּחִינַת פְּגַם כָּל הַחֲטָאִים שֶׁכֻּלָּם כְּלוּלִים בְּחֵטְא הָעֵגֶל שֶׁאָז אִבְּדוּ יִשְׂרָאֵל שְׁנֵי הַכְּתָרִים הַנַּ”ל שֶׁהֵם בְּחִינַת נַעֲשֶׂה וְנִשְׁמָע, שֶׁהֵם עִקָּר הַמֹּחִין וְהַדַּעַת שֶׁהוּא יְדִיעַת הַנִּגְלֶה וְהַנִּסְתָּר (All lost objects, chas v’shalom, come from a blemish in da’at, which corresponds to the blemish of all of the sins that were included in the sin of the golden calf, for then Yisrael lost the two crowns which were an aspect of ‘we will do’ [na’aseh] and ‘we will hear’ [nishmah], which are the essence of the ‘spiritual brains’ [chochmah and binah] and da’at which is the knowledge of the revealed [Torah] and the hidden [Torah]). He goes on to explain that since the whole purpose of putting man into this world is to have da’at, for without da’at it is impossible to avoid sinning, the worst thing one could possibly lose is one’s da’at.

Two important points follow from this. The first is the definition of an idiot (Chagigah 4a): אֵי זֶהוּ שׁוֹטֶה? זֶה הַמְאַבֵּד כׇּל מַה שֶּׁנּוֹתְנִים לוֹ (Who is an idiot? Someone who loses everything that they give to him). It follows, therefore, that since we all lost our crowns, to one degree or another, we are all included in the aspect of an idiot. Not a particularly ‘warm and fuzzy’ thought, but true nonetheless. The second is the immediate cause of all transgressions (Sotah 3a): אֵין אָדָם עוֹבֵר עֲבֵירָה אֶלָּא אִם כֵּן נִכְנַס בּוֹ רוּחַ שְׁטוּת (A person commits a trespass only if a spirit of idiocy enters him). The logical conclusion of these ideas is summed up by R’ Nachman in Likutei Moharan II:7: וּבֶאֱמֶת מֵהֵיכָן בָּאִים לַעֲווֹנוֹת, חַס וְשָׁלוֹם? הוּא רַק עַל־יְדֵי שֶׁאֵין לוֹ דַּעַת (And really, where do sins come from, chas v’shalom? It is only because he has no da’at). Either he lacks it or he lost it. So the process goes like this: a lack or loss of da’at leads to a spirit of idiocy, which in turns leads to sin, which is an aspect of loss.

Not only that, but all of the suffering, the trials and tribulations that we experience through this long and bitter exile, is only because of the lack of da’at (Orach Chaim, Hilchot Netilat Yadayim 1:1): כִּי עִקַּר כָּל הַיִּסּוּרִים שֶׁיֵּשׁ לָאָדָם ח”ו, הוּא רַק מֵחֶסְרוֹן הַדַּעַת כִּי מִי שֶׁיֵּשׁ לוֹ דַּעַת וְיוֹדֵעַ שֶׁהַכֹּל בְּהַשְׁגָּחָה מֵהַשֵּׁם יִתְבָּרַךְ אֵין לוֹ שׁוּם יִסּוּרִים וְאֵינוֹ מַרְגִּישׁ שׁוּם צַעַר (For the essence of all of the suffering that happens to a person, chas v’shalom, is only due to a lack of da’at, for someone who has da’at and knows that everything is according to Divine Providence from Hashem, may He be blessed, has no suffering and doesn’t [even] feel anguish).

Therefore, a person doesn’t just lose his da’at, he loses his entire essence. In short, he himself becomes lost. This is related to the idea of the lost sheep that Hashem promises to seek after (Yechezkel 34:16): אֶת־הָאֹבֶדֶת אֲבַקֵּשׁ וְאֶת־הַנִּדַּחַת אָשִׁיב וְלַנִּשְׁבֶּרֶת אֶחֱבֹשׁ וְאֶת־הַחוֹלָה אֲחַזֵּק וְאֶת־הַשְּׁמֵנָה וְאֶת־הַחֲזָקָה אַשְׁמִיד אֶרְעֶנָּה בְמִשְׁפָּט׃ (I will seek the lost one, and return the one who was driven away, and will bind up the broken, and will strengthen the sick: but I will destroy the fat and the strong; I will cause them to graze in justice).

Therefore, we must ask the obvious question, How does someone find his lost Torah and his lost da’at? Better still, how does someone find himself?

R’ Nachman states (Likutei Moharan 188): דַּע שֶׁצָּרִיךְ לִנְסֹעַ לְהַצַּדִּיק לַחֲזֹר עַל אֲבֵדָתוֹ (You must know that one needs to travel to the Tzaddik to get back what he lost). Similarly, R’ Natan explains (Choshen Mishpat, Hilchot Matanah 5:74): וְעַל כֵּן עִקָּר תִּקּוּן כָּל הָאֲבֵדוֹת הוּא עַל יְדֵי בַּעֲלֵי דֵּעָה הָאֲמִתִּיִּים שֶׁהֵם הַצַּדִּיקֵי אֱמֶת, שֶׁהֵם בְּחִינַת מֹשֶׁה מָשִׁיחַ (Therefore, the essential fix for all lost objects is through the true Masters of Da’at, for they are the true tzaddikim, in the aspect of ‘Moshe Mashiach’). How do they know this? How do they know that we must travel to the true tzaddikim to get back what we lost?

The Torah of lost objects is found in Devarim 22:1-3: לֹא־תִרְאֶה אֶת־שׁוֹר אָחִיךָ אוֹ אֶת־שֵׂיוֹ נִדָּחִים וְהִתְעַלַּמְתָּ מֵהֶם הָשֵׁב תְּשִׁיבֵם לְאָחִיךָ׃ וְאִם־לֹא קָרוֹב אָחִיךָ אֵלֶיךָ וְלֹא יְדַעְתּוֹ וַאֲסַפְתּוֹ אֶל־תּוֹךְ בֵּיתֶךָ וְהָיָה עִמְּךָ עַד דְּרֹשׁ אָחִיךָ אֹתוֹ וַהֲשֵׁבֹתוֹ לוֹ׃ וְכֵן תַּעֲשֶׂה לַחֲמֹרוֹ וְכֵן תַּעֲשֶׂה לְשִׂמְלָתוֹ וְכֵן תַּעֲשֶׂה לְכׇל־אֲבֵדַת אָחִיךָ אֲשֶׁר־תֹּאבַד מִמֶּנּוּ וּמְצָאתָהּ לֹא תוּכַל לְהִתְעַלֵּם (You must not see your brother’s ox or sheep that was driven away and conceal yourself from them; rather, you must return them to your brother. And if your brother isn’t close to you or you don’t know him, you must gather it up and put it in your house and it will be with you until your brother seeks it, and then you shall return it to him. Thus, you shall do for his donkey, and thus you shall do for his garment, and thus you shall do for all lost objects of your brother which he lost from himself and you found. Do not conceal yourself).

What does this have to do with anything? The answer is provided by the Ohr ha-Chaim who provides a fascinating understanding of the deeper meaning hinted at behind these simple words: אחיך שהוא הקב”ה, ויחס לו שם זה להעיר אל מי מקדושיו הוא מצוה שהם הצדיקים (The words ‘your Brother’ [in v. 1] is a reference to Ha-Kadosh, baruch Hu, and [Moshe] attributes this term [i.e. ‘Brother] to Him to arouse those individuals among His holy ones who have the responsibility to fulfill this mitzvah, who are the tzaddikim). Here’s how v.1 can now be understood: “You, i.e. the tzaddikim, must not see ‘your Brother’s [Hashem’s] ox or sheep [Jews, in that they are likened to kosher animals], that was driven away, and conceal yourself from them; rather, you [the tzaddikim] must return them [your fellow Jews] to your Brother [Hashem].” And why does the pasuk refer to Jews as ox or sheep? In the words of the Ohr ha-Chaim: ואותם צוה ה’ כי תראה את שור אלה הם בני אדם שנמשלו כבהמות והם צאן קדשים ולזה קראם שור ושה (Hashem commanded them [the tzaddikim] when they see an ‘ox’. These are people who resemble animals [fit for the altar], and they are the holy flock, and for this reason they are called ‘ox’ and ‘sheep’).

So all of us must seek out the true tzaddikim (better yet, the one true Tzaddik in each and every generation in the aspect of ‘Moshe Mashiach’) in order to find oneself as well as one’s lost objects, i.e. his Torah and his da’at (L.M. 288): עַל כֵּן צָרִיךְ לָבוֹא לְהֶחָכָם לְבַקֵּשׁ וּלְהַכִּיר אֲבֵדָתוֹ וְלָשׁוּב לְקַבְּלָהּ אֶצְלוֹ, אַךְ הַצַּדִּיק אֵינוֹ מֵשִׁיב לוֹ הָאֲבֵדָה עַד שֶׁיִּדְרְשֶׁנּוּ אִם אֵינוֹ רַמַּאי וְשַׁקְרָן, כְּמוֹ שֶׁכָּתוּב: עַד דְּרֹשׁ אָחִיךָ וַהֲשֵׁבֹתוֹ לוֹ עַד שֶׁתִּדְרֹשׁ אֶת אָחִיךָ אִם אֵינוֹ רַמַּאי (Therefore, one must go to the ‘Wise Sage’ [i.e. the Tzaddik] to seek and to recognize that which he lost, and to get it back from him; however, the Tzaddik doesn’t return the lost object to him until he investigates him to make sure he isn’t a deceiver or a liar, as it is written [Devarim 22:2], ‘until your brother seeks [i.e. identifies] it, and then you shall return it to him’, i.e. until you identify that your brother isn’t a deceiver).

Here we see that the Tzaddik also has the responsibility to make sure that the seeker is neither a רַמַּאי [ramai, deceiver] nor a שַׁקְרָן [shakran, liar]. What’s the difference? A ramai is someone who deceives another in order to get a specific benefit for himself, whereas a shakran is someone who lies for some other reason. For example, if someone goes to a great Tzaddik to receive back his lost Torah but he’s not going because he really wants to immerse himself in Torah or rise to a higher level of service to Hashem but rather because he wants money, honor or fame, he is called a ramai. A shakran, on the other hand, is not interested in receiving anything at all. Rather, he has completely different motives. For example, maybe he wants to test the Tzaddik to see if he can trip him up, find a flaw in him, or even to mock him, chas v’shalom.

Returning to the main point, going to the Tzaddik is not a ‘one time event’. It must be repeated throughout one’s life, on a regular basis. How come? R’ Natan explains in Likutei Halachot (Choshen Mishpat, Hilchot Aveidah u’Metziah 3:2): כִּי בְּוַדַּאי אִי אֶפְשָׁר לְהַחֲזִיר לָהֶם כָּל אֲבֵדָתָם הַמְרֻבּוֹת מְאֹד בְּפַעַם אַחַת שֶׁלֹּא יַזִּיק לָהֶם רִבּוּי הָאוֹר חַס וְשָׁלוֹם, כִּי רִבּוּי הַשֶּׁמֶן גּוֹרֵם כִּבּוּי הַנֵּר, וּבְהֶכְרֵחַ לְהַחֲזִיר לָהֶם מְעַט מְעַט כְּפִי הֲכָנָתָם וּכְפִי הִתְעוֹרְרוּתָם אֶל הָאֱמֶת (For sure, it is impossible to return to them all of their very many lost objects at one time, so as not to damage them through the abundance of light, chas v’shalom, for too much oil extinguishes the flame. Therefore, it is necessary to return them little by little according to their preparation and their awakening to the truth). This is a very profound idea because we can draw an important personal lesson from it. Even though most of us are not the tzaddikim charged with this responsibility, we must be very careful not to damage others with our enthusiasm when we see them beginning to wake up and get interested in doing teshuvah. Just remember that too much oil extinguishes the flame.

Now that we have learned all of this, we have discovered a deeper reason for R’ Nachman’s famous dictum (Likutei Moharan II:78): אֵין שׁוּם יִאוּשׁ בָּעוֹלָם כְּלָל (There’s no despair in the world at all). Why must there be no despair? It is because if the owner has fallen into despair of retrieving his lost object (his Torah, his da’at and even himself), then there is no obligation for the Tzaddik to return it to him. This principle is explicitly stated in the Gemara (Baba Metzia 23a): אָמַר רַב זְבִיד מִשְּׁמֵיהּ דְּרָבָא: כְּלָלָא דַּאֲבֵידְתָּא כֵּיוָן דְּאָמַר ״וַוי לֵהּ לְחֶסְרוֹן כִּיס״ מִיָּאַשׁ לֵיהּ מִינַּהּ (Rav Zevid said in the name of Rava, The rule for lost objects is: Once he [the rightful owner] has said, ‘Woe to me for the monetary loss!’, he has despaired of [ever retrieving] it). This is even codified in the Shulchan Aruch (Choshen Mishpat 262:5): מצא דבר שנתייאשו הבעלים ממנו כגון שאמרו וי לחסרון כיס אפי’ יש בו סימן הוא של מוצאו (If one found something that the owners despaired of, for example, they said, ‘Woe, for the monetary loss’, even if it has identifying markings, it belongs to the one who found it).

In conclusion, we were put here to fight a war, not a physical war with guns and bullets, but a spiritual war of the mind and the heart, a war between the Yetzer ha-Ra and the Yetzer ha-Tov. True, it’s a difficult (and even dangerous) mission, but the good news is that we aren’t supposed to fight it on our own. We have Hashem’s secret weapon always ready to help us – the tzaddikim.