The author of Pri Haaretz, Rebbe Menachem Mendel of Vitebsk, zt”l, was considered the primary successor to the path of the Baal Shem Tov after the passing of Reb Dov Ber, the Maggid of Mezeritch. A talmid chaver of the Maggid, Reb Mendel was respected for his tzidkus, humility, strength of emunah and scholarship. Seeing an opportunity to hasten the process of kibbutz galuyos—the ingathering of the exiles and redemption, the Vitebsker led a group of chassidim on aliyah to Eretz Yisrael, and with great sacrifice and perseverance, settled in Tiveriya in 1777.
One day, a fervent (and slightly unbalanced) individual dressed in white climbed up Har haZeisim in Yerushalayim and blew a shofar. It was not long until the rumor spread that Moshiach had arrived, setting off great excitement and commotion all around town. The chevra ran to Reb Mendel. “Is it possible,” they gasped, “that the Mashiach has arrived?”
The Vitebsker’s face lit up in anticipation: “Let’s see!” The tzadik stood up, walked to the window, opened it and inhaled deeply through his nostrils. After a moment, he furrowed his brow. “Chevra, it says with the arrival of redemption, ‘The world will be filled with the knowledge of Hashem as the waters cover the sea.’ I don’t sense that is the case; unfortunately, Mashiach is not quite here yet … ”
~
After fleeing from his brother Eisav—only to spend 20 years serving Lavan in Padan-Aram—Yaakov Avinu flees again, this time with his wives and a mass of possessions. Now, Yaakov Avinu understands that he will finally need to meet his aggrieved brother face-to-face. He prepares spiritually, politically and militarily for the looming confrontation. On the eve of the dreaded day—alone and vulnerable—he encounters the “angel of Eisav,” and wrestles with him throughout the night. Although fiercely powerful, the angel finally submits and cries: וַיֹּאמֶר שַׁלְּחֵנִי כִּי עָלָה הַשָּׁחַר וַיֹּאמֶר לֹא אֲשַׁלֵּחֲךָ כִּי אִם־בֵּרַכְתָּנִי—“Let me go, for dawn has broken,” (32:27).
The Zohar haKadosh (Vayishlach, 170a) points to the significance of this timing and imagery:
“Let me go, for dawn has broken.” Rebbe Yehuda “opened” and said:
מִי־זֹאת הַנִּשְׁקָפָה כְּמוֹ־שָׁחַר יָפָה כַלְּבָנָה בָּרָה כַּחַמָּה אֲיֻמָּה כַּנִּדְגָּלוֹת …
כְּדֵין יִפְתַּח לוֹן פִּתְחָא דִּנְהוֹרָא (דהיא) דַּקִּיק זְעֵיר. וּלְבָתַר פִּתְחָא אַחֲרִינָא דְּאִיהוּ רַב מִינֵיהּ, עַד דְּקוּדְשָׁא בְּרִיךְ הוּא יִפְתַּח לוֹן תַּרְעִין עִלָּאִין פְּתִיחִין לְאַרְבַּע רוּחֵי עָלְמָא
“Who is that gazing down like the dawn, beautiful as the moon, clear as the sun, fearful as an army with banners?” (Shir haShirim, 6:10).
‘Who is that gazing down’ refers to Klal Yisrael. When Hashem raises them up and brings them out of the exile, He will open for them a tiny, minuscule aperture of light. Afterwards, he will open for them another point and then another slightly larger than the first, until HaKadosh Baruch Hu will open the supernal gates that open to the four corners of the world.’”
The midrash addresses why process of redemption compared to dawn:
שאין הגאולה של אומה זו באה בבת אחת אלא קימעא קימעא…אלא עמוד השחר עולה ומאיר לעולם תחלה ואחר כך גלגל חמה עולה ומאיר
“The redemption of this people does not come all at once, rather bit by bit. And what is the benefit in that it gradually goes on growing before the eyes of Yisrael? Insofar as now they see great troubles, if redemption would come all at once, they wouldn’t be able to endure great salvation—it would come within the great troubles. Therefore, it comes bit by bit, and proceeds to grow. And, this is why redemption is compared to the rising of the dawn: ‘Then your light will break forth like the dawn,’” (Yeshayah, 58:8).
“This is because there is no greater darkness than that of the hour closest to morning. If the entire sun would rise at that time, when people are sleeping, everyone would be entrapped. Rather, the morning star rises first and illuminates the world. Afterwards, the sun itself rises and gives its light, and no one becomes entrapped,” (Midrash Tehillim, 18:36).
The “ish—man,” or “angel” with whom Yaakov struggles is unnamed. As Reb Nosson of Breslov in Likutei Halachos (Tefilas haMincha, 7:19) points out, this lack of a specific name reminds us that every generation has its own specific challenges and yetzer hara—a force that opposes holiness. When Yaakov asks for his name, the sar shel Eisav replies with resistance: לָמָּה זֶּה תִּשְׁאַל לִשְׁמִי—“Why is it that you ask my name?” And, this is because the yetzer doesn’t have one specific, static name or identity; it manifests in different forms and iterations according to the context. While struggling with this “entity,” Yaakov is trying to understand what the nature of this tension is and the primary opposition to holiness in that moment and time. And this, Reb Nosson explains, is the meaning of מלחמה לה׳ בעמלק מדור דור—“Hashem has a war with Amalek in every generation.” The kelipa of Amalek manifests differently in each generation; it has many names.
At the beginning of this episode, the Torah tells us ויותר יעקב לבדו—“And Yaakov was left alone,” (32:25). Midrash Tanchuma (Toldos, 5) says this verse foreshadows our destiny to be alone and isolated among the nations, “a lone sheep among 70 wolves”. The names and details may change, but the essential struggle remains the same. Ramban, too, affirms that this entire episode is an allusion to events in the future generations of the people of Yaakov.
Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch writes that throughout the entire nocturnal struggle, Yaakov’s adversary tries to pull the ground out from underneath his feet, making a “valiant” effort to deny him the possibility of being rooted, stable and settled in the land. Ultimately, of course, the adversary fails. This teaches us that there are times in our history—and in our present generation—when our enemies will seem to overwhelm us and threaten to uproot us from our land.
However, we have a divine assurance that even if we feel unsettled and are battle-bruised, limping away having narrowly escaped, even if things look very dark, “Netzach Yisrael lo yishaker—The Eternal One of Yisrael will never lie,” chas veshalom. We will always persevere. One by one, as our enemies and accusers will submit, our soul-glow will shine, until the Ribbono Shel Olam opens the global floodgates to the light of dawn.
~
So why did Reb Mendel Vitebsker need to open his window in order to ascertain whether or not Moshiach has arrived? He could have just as well known it from the air inside of his home!’
Reb Mendel’s home—his own dalet amos—was always suffused with the heavenly fragrance of Geula. When his chasidim came to ask him about Mashiach, they meant to say: “Has Mashiach been revealed in the world outside of your home? Has the time come for the world at large to be redeemed?”
To answer this, the Vitebsker needed to open the window of his private space and take in the air from the outside world. Reb Mendel was already living in “Moshiach tzeit—the times of Mashiach.” He had struggled and overcome the yetzer in his own life, opening a geulah peratis—an individual level of redemption. In this way, he was a point of light, a morning star appearing before the sunrise of the Geula klalis—a forerunner of the collective redemption that will soon illuminate all of us.
May each of us overcome our individual struggles, entrapments and subtle imbalances—and the Amalek of our generation—to become “morning stars” to one another, alleviating one another’s “aloneness.” May we root ourselves firmly in the land and add points of light with our every deed, singing along with David haMelech, אָעִירָה שָּׁחַר—“I will awaken the dawn!” (Tehillim, 108:3).
Rabbi Judah Mischel is executive director of Camp HASC, the Hebrew Academy for Special Children. He is the mashpiah of OU-NCSY, founder of Tzama Nafshi and the author of “Baderech: Along the Path of Teshuva.” Rav Judah lives in Ramat Beit Shemesh with his wife Ora and their family.
