Parshat Pekudey - The Shade Over Betzalel

 BH

Parshat Pekudei recounts the final stages of the Mishkan’s construction and the exact accounting of all the donations of gold, silver, and copper. But beneath the straightforward narrative lies a deep spiritual mystery revealed through a subtle exchange between Moshe Rabbeinu and Betzalel.

The Discrepancy in Order

The Torah states that Betzalel ben Uri, ben Chur from the tribe of Yehudah, “did everything that Hashem commanded Moshe” (Shemot 38:22). Rashi picks up on the unusual wording: it doesn’t say that Betzalel did what Moshe commanded him, but rather what Hashem commanded Moshe. From here, Chazal derive that Betzalel intuitively carried out Hashem’s will—even in areas where Moshe had seemingly relayed different instructions.

Rashi brings the example of the order in which the Mishkan and its vessels were to be constructed. Moshe told Betzalel to begin with the keilim—the vessels like the Aron, Menorah, and Shulchan—and only afterward build the Mishkan, the physical structure. But Betzalel questioned this, pointing out that normally one builds a house before furnishing it. Moshe then admitted that this is in fact what he heard from Hashem: Betzalel had intuited the Divine intention even without being told.

This alone is remarkable—but the deeper question is: why did Moshe reverse the order when relaying the instructions? And what was he really testing Betzalel for?

Mishkan and Keilim: Desire and Wisdom

Drawing from the Zohar and Kabbalah, the Mishkan and the keilim represent two different aspects of spiritual life. The Mishkan—the physical structure—represents desire, yearning, and will to connect to Hashe’s Infinite Light. The keilim—the vessels—represent the means to attain Divine wisdom and understanding emanating from Hashem’s Infinite Light.

The verse in Shir HaShirim says, “Moshcheni (similar to the Mishkan) acharecha narutzah—Draw me after You and we will run [to You]” (1:4). The word narutzah (we will run) is etymologically tied to ratzon—will and desire. The Mishkan reflects this idea of ratzon—the deep yearning to be close to Hashem. The vessels, on the other hand, represent the containers of that light: clarity, function, order—the goal and directive of that desire.

Moshe was testing Betzalel: when you’re building a sanctuary for the Divine Presence, what comes first—desire or wisdom? The keilim represent vessels for Divine knowledge and functionality, and Moshe’s order reflected a spiritual ideal: the light and wisdom of the vessels is the starting point. But Betzalel, whose name means in the shadow of God, understood something even deeper. In the world of building, in the realm of action, the house—the Mishkan—comes first. Without a prerequisite of yearning and desire there is no container for Divine wisdom. And without a home, wisdom has nowhere to settle.

Moshe, upon hearing Betzalel’s logic, realized that Betzalel wasn’t just responding practically—he had aligned with the very will of Hashem. In this way, Betzalel represents someone whose inner clarity matches the deepest spiritual truths, even when they’re unsaid.

The Mishkan as Yearning, the Keilim as Vessels

The Mishkan wasn’t just a building—it was a gravitational field of holiness, designed to awaken yearning in every Jew. Rebbe Nachman explains that the Mishkan represents ratzon—desire, the pull toward Hashem. The keilim (vessels), by contrast, represent the spiritual containers we build through our avodah, our personal Divine service, in order to receive Hashem’s light.

The placement of the keilim within the Mishkan mirrors the structure of the human body, and by extension, the structure of the sefirot. The Aron represents the head, the Menorah and Shulchan correspond to the right and left arms, the golden Mizbeach to the heart, and so on. The Zohar points out that the layout of the Mishkan aligns with the inner anatomy of the soul. In other words, the Mishkan is also a map of how Divine energy flows through a person.

Most people begin their spiritual journey by chasing the light. But the light doesn’t come from running—it comes from pausing. That’s the message of Betzalel: accepting the setbacks.

Yearning as the First Vessel

In Likutey Moharan 24, Rebbe Nachman describes how a person rises in spiritual levels until encountering the wall of the Keter—the crown, the highest sefirah separating the Infinite Light of Hashem from creation. At this point, the person experiences a betishah—a pushback. But that setback isn’t a rejection—it’s an invitation to yearn. And it is this yearning, born of distance and concealment, that forms the true vessels for the Infinite Light.

Now the earlier disagreement between Moshe Rabbeinu and Betzalel comes into focus. Moshe tells Betzalel to build the keilim first—implying that wisdom and spiritual capacity are the necessary starting point. But Betzalel responds that one must first build the structure—the Mishkan, the yearning, the gravitational field—before building the vessels. You don’t acquire vessels and leave them on the street; you prepare a space to house them.

Betzalel in the Shadow of God

Moshe then says to Betzalel, “This is your name! Betzel Kel—in the shadow of God you stood.” In the shadow—meaning not in the light, but in the distance, in the place of yearning. Moshe recognizes that Betzalel’s spiritual clarity came not from revelation but from alignment with Divine will even in darkness. Betzalel wasn’t chasing light—he was building from shadow, similar to the setbacks created by the Keter mentioned earlier. And from that place of tzel, of shade, come the first stirrings of the lower sefirot, beginning with chesed, which corresponds to the Divine name Kel.

This is the order of authentic spiritual growth. First, when we finally pick ourselves up and advance towards our sincere goals and aspirations in life, we are pushed back. We experience distance. And it is precisely from that darkness that true yearning is born. That yearning becomes the Mishkan—the space where the keilim, the real vessels of wisdom and Divine service, can then be placed.

Knowing When to Run, When to Stop

Most people begin their spiritual journey by chasing the light. But the light doesn’t come from running—it comes from pausing. From accepting the setback. From standing in the shadow and yearning. That’s the message of Betzalel: true avodah begins not with keilim but with ratzon, not with structure but with desire.

May we merit to build our Mishkan from this place of longing. May we accept the moments when we are pushed back as the very source of our future vessels. And may we know when to stop, when to wait, and when to run after Hashem with all our hearts.

This article also appears on the BRI Breslov.org website: https://breslov.org/the-shade-over-betzalel/ 

For a video presentation of this article: https://youtu.be/QiXJxQ8wLiU

Help support Breslov Therapy: linktr.ee/breslovtherapy

This class is based on Likutey Moharan lesson 24. For more on this lesson: linktr.ee/breslovtherapy_lesson_24

If you have been inspired by this class/lecture please share it with your friends. Thank you.

Follow us:
breslovtherapy.blogspot.com/
Spotify: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠open.spotify.com/show/2cRAICkl6Hk…⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠
Soundcloud: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@⁠breslov-therapy⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠
FB: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠www.facebook.com/breslovtherapytm…⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠

To donate or sponsor a class: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠linktr.ee/breslovtherapy⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠

Contact us:
@: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠breslovtherapy@gmail.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠
WhatsApp: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠+1-732-800-1863⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠

⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠#breslov⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠#breslovtherapy⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠#rebbenachman⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠#rebnoson⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ #likuteymoharan
#likuteyhalakhot #likuteytefilot #meirelkabas #simcha

Shabbat Shalom uMevorach.

Meir Elkabas

Parshat Vayakhel - The Glory of Coming from Such Distance

 BH

Parshat Vayakhel continues the aftermath of the Golden Calf, shifting the focus toward rectification. In this transition, we uncover a deeper lesson about patience, the process of spiritual growth, and the dangers of despair. Rebbe Nachman’s teaching in Likutey Moharan Lesson 24 sheds light on the Keter, the highest spiritual barrier, and how its pushback serves as a test of patience—one that the Jewish people failed in the incident of the Golden Calf.

The Purpose of the Keter

Rebbe Nachman explains that the Keter acts as a barrier separating Hashem’s infinite light from creation. Without it, mankind—being finite—would be overwhelmed and cease to exist upon encountering the infinite. To bridge this gap, Hashem created a system where a person can ascend spiritually, only to be pushed back by the Keter. This setback is not a failure, but rather a necessary process for developing spiritual vessels that can contain divine light.

The response to this pushback determines a person’s growth. If one reacts with patience, waiting for the right time to receive clarity, he creates the vessels needed to internalize divine wisdom. However, if one resists or despairs, he fails the test and falls backward.

The Sin of the Golden Calf: A Failure of Patience

The Jewish people, after receiving the Torah at Har Sinai, were placed in precisely this scenario. They had reached a moment of immense spiritual elevation, waiting for Moshe Rabbeinu to return with the Luchot (tablets). This waiting period was their test of Keter. Had they endured the uncertainty with patience, they would have created vessels to receive an even greater revelation.

However, the Erev Rav (mixed multitude) incited panic, and the people lacked the patience to wait. The Satan manipulated their perception, distorting their sense of time and reality. A dark storm arose, and an illusion of Moshe Rabbeinu’s grave appeared in the sky. Instead of recognizing this as a test, they succumbed to fear. The result? They created the Golden Calf—a desperate attempt to fill the void left by Moshe’s apparent “absence.”

This moment set a precedent for the Jewish people. Before the sin of the Golden Calf, patience alone was enough to receive divine light through the Keter. Afterward, the process became far more complicated.

What Changed After the Sin?

Now, instead of simply waiting, the Jewish people would face a much deeper test. The Keter would no longer just push back; it would send them into a place of confusion, where truth and falsehood become intertwined. In this space—known as the chamber of exchanges (Heichal HaTemurot)—a person must hold on despite the contradictions.

This challenge is something we experience today. A person may feel moments of intense connection to Hashem, yet still struggle with distractions, setbacks and even blemishes. The key is not to fall into despair. Instead, the test is to continue moving forward, recognizing that the very experience of confusion is part of the process.

From the Golden Calf to the Mishkan: Transforming Setback into Growth

Parashat Vayakhel provides a roadmap for repairing the spiritual damage caused by the sin of the Golden Calf. After the Jewish people fell into idolatry due to their lack of patience, Hashem offered them a means of teshuva: constructing the Mishkan. This process of rectification reveals a fundamental lesson about personal growth and the necessity of enduring setbacks on the path to spiritual elevation.

The lesson is clear: patience leads to redemption. Those who remain strong and do not succumb to despair merit the revelation of Hashem’s Infinite Light.

The Challenge of Falling and Rising

Rebbe Nachman teaches that the journey to the Keter—the highest spiritual level—requires encountering obstacles. A person striving for holiness often finds themselves in a paradoxical state, experiencing moments of intense connection followed by dramatic setbacks. This cycle, he explains, is not a sign of failure but a necessary step in refining one’s spiritual vessels.

This reality is deeply frustrating. A person may feel inspired and uplifted, only to stumble in a way that seems contradictory to their aspirations. The Yetzer Hara exploits these moments, whispering: Look at you! You’re trying so hard, and yet you’ve fallen so low. What’s the point of continuing? The temptation to give up is overwhelming, and many feel they are beyond repair.

But Rebbe Nachman offers a revolutionary perspective. Instead of seeing these ups and downs as contradictions, he reveals that this is the very process of growth. The fall is not a detour—it is part of the journey itself. One must learn to rise from the depths, over and over again, until the setbacks no longer break them.

The Golden Calf and the Mishkan: A Reversal of Gold

The Jewish people, particularly the Erev Rav, failed the test of patience. When Moshe Rabbeinu delayed in returning, they panicked. Instead of waiting and trusting in Hashem, they turned to an immediate, tangible replacement—the Golden Calf.

The rectification for this sin came through the Mishkan. Just as gold was misused in the creation of the Egel HaZahav, it was now used for a higher purpose—the construction of the Mishkan. The very material that symbolized failure and rebellion was repurposed into the foundation of divine service.

Gold represents dinim (judgments), the most intense form of spiritual energy. When misused, it leads to destruction. But when directed toward holiness, it becomes the most precious of all contributions. This is why the Mishkan, and later the Beit HaMikdash, were so heavily adorned with gold—it was a reversal of the mistake of the Golden Calf, an elevation of what had previously been corrupted.

Building the Future from the Past

Parashat Vayakhel is a blueprint for personal growth. Just as the Jewish people atoned for their sin by redirecting their gold toward the Mishkan, every individual has the ability to transform their own failures into opportunities for holiness.

The key is to resist despair. Just because a person stumbles does not mean they are lost. The true test is whether they can pick themselves up, accept the process, and keep moving forward. By doing so, they follow the model of the Mishkan—turning past failures into the foundation of future sanctity.

This shift in perspective is critical. Instead of seeing setbacks as proof of failure, one must recognize them as an integral part of the process. Through this, a person builds the vessels necessary to receive divine light, just as the Jewish people built the Mishkan as a dwelling place for Hashem’s presence.

Sanctifying the Physical: Transforming the Kumaz into Holiness

Parashat Vayakhel presents a fascinating dynamic in the Jewish people’s process of atonement for the sin of the Golden Calf. As they eagerly donate materials for the Mishkan, we find an unusual inclusion among the contributions—golden ornaments known as Kumaz, which had an intimate and immodest representation (it was placed over the women’s genital organ as a protection from immorality, but also shaped in the mold of her organ). This raises a profound question: why does the Torah go out of it’s way to mention such an ornament, and how was something so immodest accepted as part of the Mishkan? And what deeper message does it convey about personal transformation and holiness?

Eager to Give: Atonement for the Golden Calf

The Jewish people, eager to repair the damage caused by their lapse in patience and faith, responded with unparalleled generosity. The Torah describes how they gave with such enthusiasm that Moshe had to command them to stop. The desire to give was not merely about donating materials—it was about rectifying the past. They had once used their gold to create an idol, and now they sought to use it for divine service.

But the wording of the Torah in describing the donations is striking:

“Vayavou ha’anashim al hanashim”—”The men came upon the women” (Shemot 35:22).

Rashi clarifies that this means that the men accompanied the women. However, the verse draws attention to the role of the women, who gave their personal jewelry—rings, nose rings, bracelets, and the Kumaz.

The Kumaz, as explained by the Gemara (Shabbat 64a), was an ornament worn to prevent a woman from engaging in forbidden relations. The very name Kumaz is a contraction of Kan Makom Zimah—”Here is the place of immorality.” This detail is shocking. The Torah could have simply mentioned “jewelry” without specifying this item. Why does it highlight an object associated with intimate matters?

The Mirrors of the Women and the Kumaz: Two Approaches to Sanctification

Later in the Parashah, we find another intriguing case: the copper kiyor (washbasin) was made from the mirrors of the women. These mirrors were used by the Jewish women in Egypt to beautify themselves for their husbands, ensuring the continuity of the Jewish people despite Pharaoh’s decrees. Initially, Moshe Rabbeinu refused to accept them, considering them items associated with the Yetzer Hara—designed to incite desire. However, Hashem commanded him to take them, declaring them “more precious than anything else,” because they were used for a holy purpose—to build Jewish families.

In contrast, there is no mention of Moshe objecting to the Kumaz. Why? Wouldn’t it be an even more problematic item than the mirrors? The answer lies in the fundamental difference between these two donations.

• The mirrors had always been used for a constructive, albeit physical, purpose—strengthening Jewish homes and ensuring the survival of Israel. Hashem wanted them displayed as they were to emphasize that physical beauty, when directed toward holiness, has a place in divine service.
• The Kumaz, however, represented an element of restriction, a connection to an inappropriate mindset regarding sexuality. 

This distinction teaches a powerful lesson: Some aspects of the physical world can be uplifted directly, while others must first be nullified before they can be integrated into holiness.

Why Mention the Kumaz at All?

The Torah could have omitted the Kumaz, simply referring to general jewelry donations. Instead, it calls attention to it, teaching us something crucial about teshuva and sanctification.

1. No One Is Beyond Redemption – Just as even the Kumaz was accepted into the Mishkan, so too, no Jew should think they are too far gone to return. Even the most fallen aspects of a person can be transformed and redirected toward holiness.
2. Atonement Requires Depth – The mention of the Kumaz reminds us that atonement is not just about making external changes. True repair involves confronting and transforming even the most deeply ingrained behaviors and thoughts.

From the Golden Calf to the Mishkan: A Model for Personal Growth

The Torah’s inclusion of the Kumaz in the Mishkan donations is a profound statement about the nature of teshuva. The very same people who sinned with the Golden Calf were now contributing to the Mishkan. Gold that was once used for idolatry was now being used for holiness.

This mirrors our own struggles in life. People often feel trapped by past mistakes, thinking that they have tainted themselves beyond repair. The Torah teaches otherwise. If the Kumaz can become part of the Mishkan, then no aspect of a person’s life is beyond transformation.

Holiness is not about being perfect—it’s about taking what we have, even the most broken parts, and redirecting them toward Hashem. This is the essence of teshuva, and the ultimate lesson of Parashat Vayakhel.

The Struggle with Kedushat HaBrit

The challenge of maintaining Kedushat HaBrit—sexual purity—is one of the greatest tests of our generation. It is the ultimate trial within the Heichal HaTemurot, the chamber of exchanges, where good and evil are mixed up, making clarity difficult to attain. The Yetzer Hara convinces a person that after falling so low, he is beyond repair, beyond hope. But Rebbe Nachman teaches that specifically from this place, a person has the greatest opportunity to access the Keter—the highest spiritual level that allows for a connection to the infinite light.

The word Kumaz, the ornament donated by the women for the Mishkan, begins with a Kaf, which links it to Keter. Rebbe Nachman explains in Likutey Moharan Lesson 6 that “Ein Keter b’lo Kaf”—there is no Keter without the letter Kaf. Words like Kumaz share this connection, indicating that even the lowest places hold potential for elevation. A person may fall into impurity, into deep despair, but if he gets up and starts again, he has the highest chance of reaching the Keter. However, if he gives up, he loses everything. If he refuses to surrender, he will ultimately merit access to the infinite light, which is the key to true spiritual growth.

The Role of the Wife and the Keter

The Keter is also closely linked to the role of a wife in marriage. The verse in Mishlei (12:4) states, “Eishet Chayil Ateret Ba’alah”—a woman of valor is the crown of her husband. Reb Noson explains that while a wife is a receiver, dependent on her husband for sustenance, her soul is actually rooted above his, in the Keter. She is the one who applies the brakes, who prevents him from going too fast, pushing him back so that he does not break through in a way that could be spiritually dangerous.

This dynamic is reflected in Parashat Vayakhel. The Torah states, “Vayavou ha’anashim al hanashim”—”And the men came on the women.” Rashi clarifies that this means the men came next to the women, but the deeper meaning reveals a powerful tikkun. At the time of the sin of the Golden Calf, the women had been spiritually above the men. They refused to give their gold, serving as the voice of restraint, while the men fell into impatience and lack of faith. But now, as the Jewish people donated to the Mishkan, a rectification was taking place. The men were restored to their proper spiritual position, leading the repair, while the women, still essential, now gave their jewelry with their husbands’ consent.

Transforming Gold from Sin to Holiness

The act of donating gold to the Mishkan was more than just generosity—it was a rectification of the sin of the Golden Calf. The same material that had been used for idolatry was now being elevated for holiness. The Keter, which had been lost when the Jews failed to wait for Moshe, was now being reestablished. The very test that had caused them to stumble—the inability to wait—was being corrected by their willingness to invest in something that required patience, discipline, and submission to a higher purpose.

This teaches a profound lesson: a Jew’s greatest growth often comes from his greatest struggles. If he holds on, even after falling, he can ascend higher than he ever imagined. And just as the women played a crucial role in both the sin and the tikkun, so too, the people in our lives who challenge us may be the very ones helping us to truly rise.

The Power of Tzedakah

One of the greatest ways to escape the Heichal HaTemurot, the chamber of exchanges, is through tzedakah. Reb Noson teaches that giving tzedakah—especially to the tzaddikim—has the power to rectify even the deepest falls. The Zohar asks, “Eizo tzaddik?”—Who is a tzaddik? The answer: someone who guards the covenant, Kedushat HaBrit. The word tzedakah shares its root with tzaddik, hinting that the most effective charity is given to those who embody holiness.

By giving tzedakah to tzaddikim, a person connects his damim—his blood, his wealth—to the tzaddikim, connecting to their purity. No matter how low a person has fallen, supporting the true tzaddikim can elevate him. In Parashat Vayakhel, the tzedakah given to build the Mishkan was essentially tzedakah for Moshe Rabbeinu himself. The Ohel Moed, the Tent of Meeting, became the central place where Moshe received prophecy for all of Israel. Supporting the Mishkan meant supporting Moshe, the ultimate tzaddik, whose holiness and connection to Hashem were unparalleled.

Finding Strength in Our Struggles

Reb Noson writes repeatedly in his letters (Alim LiTrufah) that a Jew should never allow his past or present failures to break him. Instead of sinking into shame and despair, he should take pride in the fact that, despite his struggles, he still desires to serve Hashem. The Yetzer Hara tries to convince a person that his sins disqualify him from holiness, but Reb Noson teaches the opposite:

“If I am truly as low as I think I am, then my mitzvot, my Torah learning, my tefillin, my Shabbat—everything I do—must have even greater value!”

This is the deeper lesson of the Kumaz. The Torah openly mentions this ornament, even though it was associated with impurity, because it symbolizes the power of tikkun. The very same gold that was used for the Golden Calf was now being used to build the Mishkan. This is the light of the Keter—that even from the lowest places, one can rise to the highest levels.

The Greatest Test Before Mashiach

Before Mashiach comes, the Jewish people are facing unprecedented spiritual challenges. Never in history have we fallen so low, yet that itself is our greatest merit. The fact that, despite everything, we still long to return to Hashem, still strive for holiness, is the ultimate testimony to the power of the Jewish soul. This ratzon, this desire to reconnect, is what builds the vessels to receive the light of the Keter.

May we be zocheh to hold on through the tests, to never give up, and to recognize that even from the lowest places, we can achieve the greatest light.

This article also appears on the BRI breslov.org website: https://breslov.org/the-glory-of-coming-from-such-distance/ 

For a video presentation of this article: https://youtu.be/0D-60oIHUW8

Help support Breslov Therapy: linktr.ee/breslovtherapy

This class is based on Likutey Moharan lesson 24. For more on this lesson: linktr.ee/breslovtherapy_lesson_24

If you have been inspired by this class/lecture please share it with your friends. Thank you.

Follow us:
breslovtherapy.blogspot.com/
Spotify: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠open.spotify.com/show/2cRAICkl6Hk…⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠
Soundcloud: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@⁠breslov-therapy⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠
FB: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠www.facebook.com/breslovtherapytm…⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠

To donate or sponsor a class: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠linktr.ee/breslovtherapy⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠

Contact us:
@: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠breslovtherapy@gmail.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠
WhatsApp: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠+1-732-800-1863⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠

⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠#breslov⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠#breslovtherapy⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠#rebbenachman⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠#rebnoson⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ #likuteymoharan
#likuteyhalakhot #likuteytefilot #meirelkabas #simcha

Shabbat Shalom and a joyous, uplifting Purim!

Meir Elkabas

Parshat Ki Tissa - The Test of Patience

 BH

Parshat Ki Tisa is one of the most intense sections in the Torah, dealing with the tragic episode of the Golden Calf. This year, as it coincides with Purim in Jerusalem, the themes of mistaken perception, pressure, and redemption resonate even more powerfully. By exploring the events surrounding the sin of the Golden Calf, we can uncover profound insights into human nature, the power of imagination, and the necessity of patience in divine service.

The Pressure to Act

The Torah describes how Moshe Rabbeinu ascended Har Sinai for forty days, leaving the Jewish people waiting for his return. However, due to a miscalculation, they believed he was late. This mistake was not merely an issue of counting—it was an opening for the Yetzer Hara to manipulate their perception.

The Midrash explains that Satan distorted reality, creating a dark, stormy atmosphere to instill fear and confusion. He even projected a vision of Moshe Rabbeinu’s “grave” floating in the air, leading the people to believe that their leader had perished. In a state of panic, they turned to Aharon, demanding that he create a new “idolic” leader for them.

Aharon’s Stalling Tactic

Faced with an angry and irrational crowd, Aharon attempted to delay their actions. He instructed them to collect gold—specifically, the golden earrings of their wives and children—hoping this would slow them down. As Rashi explains, Aharon believed that women and children would be reluctant to part with their precious adornments, buying time until Moshe’s return. However, his plan failed. The men, driven by their desperation, removed their own jewelry instead and rushed to create the idol.

The question arises: why did Aharon focus on golden earrings? What was his deeper intention? 

From Fear to Idolatry

Perhaps the most perplexing aspect of this story is how the people transitioned so quickly from fearing Moshe’s death to creating and worshiping a false god. What caused such a drastic shift? How does their fear of being leaderless suddenly lead them to idolatry?

This question forces us to examine the nature of panic, imagination, and misplaced trust. If their issue was leadership, wouldn’t they have simply asked Aharon to step in? Why did their response escalate to the point of fabricating a new deity? What is the underlying connection between the fear of losing Moshe Rabbeinu and falling into full-fledged idol worship?

Patience and the Test of the Keter

Rebbe Nachman, quoting the Baal Shem Tov, explains a deep concept regarding faith in Hashem’s oneness. We say daily: Shema Yisrael, Hashem Elokeinu, Hashem Echad—”Hear, Israel, Hashem is our God, Hashem is One.” The letter Daled in Echad has a small shpitz on the top right corner, a kotz, that differentiates it from a Resh, which would spell Acher—”another.” The Zohar teaches that this kotz represents the Tzaddik, the one who upholds Hashem’s oneness in the world. When the Tzaddik is removed, Echad turns into Acher, and the oneness of Hashem is obscured.

This idea is clearly illustrated in this week’s Parsha. The moment the Jews believed that Moshe Rabbeinu was gone, they immediately turned to idolatry. Instead of waiting with faith, they panicked and sought an immediate replacement. This wasn’t just a mistake—it was a failure of patience. The real test was to wait.

Rebbe Nachman, in Likutey Moharan Lesson 24, explains the concept of Keter, the crown. Keter is a barrier, a separation between Hashem’s Infinite Light and creation. It prevents a person from moving too fast, forcing them to develop spiritual vessels before receiving higher divine illumination. When someone is advancing quickly in spirituality, the Keter pushes them back. This setback is not a rejection but a test: will the person accept it with faith and patience, or will they fall into despair?

The Jewish people at Har Sinai were expected to pass this test of Keter—to wait patiently for Moshe’s return. But instead, they succumbed to pressure. The Yetzer Hara distorted their imagination, making them believe Moshe was dead. The Jews, but particularly the Erev Rav (mixed multitude of converts from Egypt), rushed to fill the perceived void, demanding: “We need another god!”

Had they withstood the test of Keter, they would have merited an even higher revelation of Torah. Instead, their impatience led them to idol worship. This failure wasn’t just about the Golden Calf—it revealed a fundamental weakness: the inability to wait for divine timing.

The lesson is clear: patience leads to redemption. Those who remain strong and do not succumb to despair merit the revelation of Hashem’s Infinite Light.

The Woman’s Crown and the Test of Keter

Aharon’s response to the Erev Rav’s demand for an idol was not random. He specifically instructed them to take golden earrings from their wives’ ears. Why earrings? Why from the women?

Reb Noson, explaining Likutey Moharan Lesson 24, highlights a deep concept: a woman’s soul is rooted in Keter, the crown. This is reflected in the verse: “Eshet Chayil, Ateret Ba’ala”—a woman of valor is the crown of her husband (Mishlei 12:4). Though in practical life a wife is a receiver, dependent on her husband for sustenance, spiritually, she is above him. The Keter—the highest level in the spiritual structure—belongs to her.

This is why, on a deeper level, women often challenge their husbands. Many men feel that their wives are “holding them back” from spiritual growth, limiting their time for Torah and prayer. But in truth, women have an innate sensitivity to spiritual danger. When a man is rising too quickly, without the proper vessels, the Keter “pushes back”—and his wife, connected to Keter, instinctively puts on the brakes. She is not an obstacle; she is a safeguard, ensuring that he does not burn out or collapse from overreaching.

Aharon saw that the Erev Rav had already failed the test of patience—they could not endure the waiting required by Keter. Their demand for an idol was a desperate attempt to fill the void they perceived in Moshe Rabbeinu’s absence. But there was still one final hope: sending them to their wives. If the women refused to give their jewelry, perhaps the men would recognize their mistake and step back.

The Crown of Listening

The request was not just for any gold, but for earrings. The ear represents Shmi’ah—the ability to listen and internalize. At Har Sinai, the Jews proclaimed “Na’aseh v’Nishmah”—“We will do, and we will listen.” In response, they were crowned with two crowns: one for action (Na’aseh), and one for deep inner connection (Nishmah).

Of these two, the crown of Nishmah is higher. The commitment to “do” (Na’aseh) reflects external devotion, but the ability to listen (Nishmah) requires internal faith, humility, and patience. It is the true key to maintaining connection with Hashem, even when things are unclear.

By telling them to take their wives’ earrings, Aharon was pointing them back to this crown of Nishmah—the ability to listen, trust, and wait. The women understood this; they refused to give their jewelry. But the men, already blinded by their panic, did not get the message. Instead of listening, they took their own gold and forged the Golden Calf.

The result? They lost both crowns. Hashem told Moshe that the Jewish people had to remove the crowns they received at Har Sinai. Had they listened to their wives, they might have been able to hold onto them. But their impatience—their failure to withstand the test of Keter—led to the ultimate downfall, losing their crowns.

The Power of Patience and the Keter in the Purim Story

The key failure in the sin of the Golden Calf was impatience. The Jewish people, particularly the Erev Rav, could not withstand the test of Keter, which requires waiting and faith in the process. This same concept appears in the Purim story, where Mordechai and Esther demonstrate the power of patience and divine timing, ultimately overturning Haman’s plot.

Mordechai’s salvation began when King Achashverosh discovered that Mordechai had never been rewarded for saving his life from the assassination plot of Bigtan and Teresh.

That very night, Achashverosh couldn’t sleep. He ordered the royal chronicles to be read, only to find that Mordechai had never received a reward. At the same time, Haman arrived, intending to request Mordechai’s execution. Instead, Achashverosh asked Haman how to honor someone the king wished to reward. Thinking the honor was for himself, Haman suggested royal treatment: riding the king’s horse, wearing his robe, and—most shockingly—wearing the king’s crown.

This was an outrageous request. Who gives away the king’s crown? But Haman, who understood the concept of Keter, knew that the crown represents the ultimate connection to infinite blessing. He sought to steal that divine energy and use it for himself, channeling the holy energy into impurity.

Achashverosh, however, stopped short of granting the crown. Instead, he ordered Haman to carry out all the honors—but for Mordechai. The very force Haman tried to manipulate was turned against him. This is a key theme in Purim: the power of Keter is reserved for those who patiently wait for Hashem’s salvation, i.e. Mordechai.

Achashverosh and the Gold of the Beit HaMikdash

The Midrash reveals that much of Achashverosh’s wealth—his gold and treasures—came from the Beit HaMikdash. At the royal feast described in Megillat Esther, the verse mentions extravagant decorations, including Chur, Kapas, and Techelet. The commentary Manot HaLevi points out that the letter Chet (numerically equal to the number 8) in Chur is written large in the Megillah. This alludes to the eight vestments of the Kohen Gadol, which Achashverosh wore at the feast.

Achashverosh’s intent was to desecrate the holiness of the Beit HaMikdash, just as Haman sought to strip the Jews of their divine connection. The feast was not just a political event; it was a calculated attempt to draw Jewish participation into impurity, weakening their spiritual strength and their access to Keter.

Even Achashverosh’s crown was made from the sacred gold of the Beit HaMikdash. This gold had a unique property: it unified opposites. The ultimate expression of this was the Holy of Holies. It existed beyond the limitations of physical reality, symbolizing direct access to Ein Sof, Hashem’s Infinite Light.

This connection to the Keter—the interface between the infinite and finite—was something that Achashverosh and Haman sought to exploit. But their plan backfired. The Purim story demonstrates that the power of Keter remains in the hands of those who practice faith and patience, waiting for Hashem’s salvation rather than forcing their own solutions.

The contrast between the Erev Rav at the Golden Calf and Mordechai in the Purim story is striking. The Erev Rav lacked the patience to wait for Moshe Rabbeinu’s return, leading them to fall into idolatry. Mordechai, however, embodied the opposite: steadfastness, unwavering faith, and the ability to endure setbacks without losing hope. This patience ultimately allowed him to access the light of Keter, leading to the miraculous salvation of the Jewish people.

The Restoration of the Crown: Mordechai and the Light of Keter

The Purim story reaches its climax when Haman’s plot is overturned, and Mordechai, the tzaddik, is elevated in his place. Haman had sought not only power but also the crown—the Keter, the ultimate connection to divine light. His request to have the king’s crown placed on his head symbolized his desire to usurp the Jewish people’s spiritual power. But instead, his downfall paved the way for Mordechai to receive the very honor he coveted.

At the end of the Megillah, Mordechai is described as emerging from the king’s presence wearing a golden crown (Ateret Zahav). This moment represents the restoration of Keter to holiness. Just as Moshe Rabbeinu retained the spiritual light of the crowns lost after the sin of the Golden Calf, so too did Mordechai receive the light of the Keter.

The Zohar explains that after the Jewish people lost their crowns—awarded at Har Sinai for saying Na’aseh v’Nishmah—Moshe Rabbeinu took them and preserved them. After the Jews lost their crowns, the Torah states that Moshe moved the Tent of Meeting (Ohel Moed) outside the camp, signifying that he took the light of the crowns. The word Ohel is etymologically connected to Hilo, meaning radiance or halo, reinforcing the idea that Moshe retained the divine light of the crowns. In the same way, Mordechai, a tzaddik representing Moshe Rabbeinu’s role in his generation, received and restored the light of Keter in the Purim miracle.

Holding On to the Tzaddikim: The Ultimate Test of Faith

The root of both the sin of the Golden Calf and the Purim redemption lies in one crucial test: staying connected to the tzaddikim. The Jewish people at Har Sinai failed when they gave in to doubt—when they thought Moshe Rabbeinu was gone, they fell into idolatry. But those who held strong—Aharon, Chur, and the tribe of Levi—did not fall.

This same principle applies in every generation. The greatest test of faith is whether a Jew holds onto the tzaddikim, those who maintain the truth of Echad, that Hashem is One. When doubts arise, when life’s challenges shake a person’s patience, the key is to not let go.

Mordechai demonstrated this unwavering faith. He did not bow to Haman. He did not waver, even when it seemed like all was lost. And through his steadfast emunah, he brought down the light of Keter for the entire Jewish people.

Purim: The Ultimate Test of Patience and Redemption

The lesson of Purim and Parshat Ki Tisa is the same: patience leads to redemption. Whether it is waiting for Moshe Rabbeinu to return or enduring the decrees of Haman, those who remain strong and do not succumb to despair merit the revelation of Hashem’s Infinite Light.

This Purim and Shabbat Ki Tisa, may we strengthen our connection to the tzaddikim, reaffirm Hashem’s oneness, and pass the tests of patience and faith. In doing so, may we merit the Ateret Zahav, the crown of redemption, and the light of Mordechai’s Keter, which shines eternal.

This article is also found in the BRI breslov.org website: https://breslov.org/the-test-of-patience/ 

For a video presentation of this article: https://youtu.be/eq02eL76NbU

Help support Breslov Therapy: linktr.ee/breslovtherapy

This class is based on Likutey Moharan lesson 24. For more on this lesson: linktr.ee/breslovtherapy_lesson_24

If you have been inspired by this class/lecture please share it with your friends. Thank you.

Follow us:
breslovtherapy.blogspot.com/
Spotify: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠open.spotify.com/show/2cRAICkl6Hk…⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠
Soundcloud: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@⁠breslov-therapy⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠
FB: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠www.facebook.com/breslovtherapytm…⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠

To donate or sponsor a class: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠linktr.ee/breslovtherapy⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠

Contact us:
@: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠breslovtherapy@gmail.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠
WhatsApp: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠+1-732-800-1863⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠

⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠#breslov⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠#breslovtherapy⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠#rebbenachman⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠#rebnoson⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ #likuteymoharan
#likuteyhalakhot #likuteytefilot #meirelkabas #simcha

Shabbat Shalom and a joyous, uplifting Purim!

Meir Elkabas