A school bus full of young students pulled over to allow a fire engine to pass. The children were enthralled when they saw that sitting in the front seat of the engine was a Dalmation. They started speculating about the purpose of the dog. “I know,” offered one student, “they use him to keep crowds back.” “No,” said another, “he’s just for good luck.” A third student brought the argument to a close: “No, no. They use him to find the fire hydrant.”

* * *  

V’zos HaB’racha: Simchas Torah–Black Fire on White Fire

The Midrash relates that before the revelation of the Torah on Mount Sinai, G-d first asked the children of Esau if they would like to accept the Torah and the lifestyle it entails. They considered and answered, “We would need to know what it says, before we can accept it.” G-d said, “It says you must not murder.” “Oh no, we’re sorry, that we cannot follow,” said Esau, “We must murder–business is business.” G-d turned to the children of Ishmael and asked them if they would like to accept the Torah. The children of Ishmael asked in return, “Tell us first: what’s in the Torah?” G-d said, “The Torah commands you not to commit adultery.” “Oh no. We’re sorry,” said Ishmael, “we thrive on adultery.” G-d finally turned to the Jewish people and asked them if they desired the Torah. The Jewish people immediately said, “Naaseh v’nishma–we’ll take it, no questions asked. First we’ll do what it commands, and later we’ll try to understand what it says.”

This is the meaning of the verse in V’Zos HaBracha, “He shone forth to them from Seir (this is the nation of Esau). He appeared from Mt. Paran (this is the nation of Ishmael), and then came (to the Jewish Nation).…”[1]

A FIERY LAW
The above verse continues, “He came (to the Jewish Nation) and from His Right Hand he presented them , aishdas (‘a fiery law’, the Torah).” Here we find a ‘kri-and-a-ksiv‘:[2] although aishdas is written as one word, when we read it we pronounce it as two distinct words, ; aish (fire) and das (law). What is the difference between these two versions?

Rashi says,[3] “Before the creation of the world, the Torah was written with black fire on white fire.” What is meant by ‘black fire’ and ‘white fire’?

TWO PERSPECTIVES
The Alter Rebbe explains [4] that there are two levels of ‘white’ and ‘black fire’: 1) white and black from the perspective of a teacher, and 2) white and black from the perspective of a student.

The intellect in the mind of the teacher is clear and brilliant like ‘white fire’. In order to convey a single concept to the student, the teacher must break down the concept into many words. This articulation darkens, so to speak, the original light of the concept. In the eyes of the teacher, this condensation is like ‘black fire’.

To the student, however, the very same words of the teacher are like ‘white fire’. The student is enlightened and inspired as he comprehends and internalizes the lesson. On the other hand, the actual intellect of the teacher is concealed from the student. It is mysterious and unfathomable, like ‘black fire’.

LIGHT AND DARKNESS
Based on the above, we can appreciate a passage in our weekday morning prayers. We bless G-d, “Who forms light and creates darkness.” When we recite “forms light,” we touch the arm tefillin, and when we recite, “creates darkness,” we touch the head tefillin. The given reason for this custom is that tefillin are like a divine signet ring that has both embossed and engraved letters. The head tefillin represents the embossed letters, while the arm tefillin represents the engraved letters of the ring.

Engraved letters are recessed into a surface, like vessels that can receive light. Thus, when we say, “formed light,” we touch the arm tefillin. Embossed letters, protrude from a surface, and therefore cannot receive light. Thus, when we say, “created darkness,” we touch the head tefillin.[5]

The arm tefillin thus represents the ‘white fire’, alluding to the words that are received and grasped by the student; the head tefillin represents the ‘black fire’, alluding to the concept in the teacher’s mind.

KRI AND KSIV
The kri, the verbal form of the word aishdas, represents the student’s perspective. Here, aish das is pronounced as two words–articulated as two separate concepts. The word aish itself alludes to ‘white fire’, corresponding to the excitation we feel when we understand a beautiful idea. The word das, on the other hand, alludes to ‘law.’ We are compelled to follow the law whether we understand it or not, and whether we like it or not. For us, as students of the Torah, this is ‘black fire’.

In the eyes of G-d, the ultimate teacher, everything is ‘white fire’, for all is revealed and known. Thus, the ksiv-aishdas-is one word: the ‘white fire law’. Out of compassion, G-d conceals His brilliant and unfathomable oneness, and articulates His message to the extent that we can receive and comprehend it.

MASHIACH
In the future, when Mashiach comes, we will all rise to the level of ‘teacher’, as it is written, “No one will teach his neighbor, for all will know Me.” The Rambam says, “the preoccupation of the entire world will be to know G-d, and the Jewish people will be great scholars, according to the strength of man.” This is interpreted to mean that each man and woman will be given the strength to know G-d directly.

Perhaps this is why aishdas begins with an Alef, which grammatically alludes to the future. In the future, the ‘fiery law’ will transcend the duality of light and darkness. It will be read according to the ksiv-as one word. And ‘this is the blessing’ (“V’Zos HaB’racha“): the Torah we accepted from G-d’s Right Hand, the hand of transcendent kindness, will one day be unified.

DANCING ON SIMCHAS TORAH
As we finish the yearly cycle of Torah study, we rejoice in the ‘white fire’ of the lessons we received. As the new cycle begins, we enter the ‘black fire’ of what we don’t yet know. Over the course of the year, this ‘black fire’ will also become ‘white fire’. As each year passes, we spiral deeper and deeper into the Torah.

On Simchas Torah we dance with a closed Torah scroll. Therefore the celebration is not only for the knowledge acquired last year, but also for the knowledge–closed, still unknown–awaiting to be opened. Boundless joy overflows as we realize that we are, each one of us, the heir of the entire Torah.[6] May we all have the blessing of opening this most unfathomable gift.

A STORY[7]
It was the fall of 1944 at Auschwitz, and Hungarian Jews — the last nationality to be transported to the camp — had arrived in massive numbers. The furnaces worked overtime as the inmates were sped to their inexorable fate.

But there were those remnants, those few who still cared about observing the Jewish holidays; among them were fifty religious boys who had just been selected for the gas chamber and were now being herded into a bathhouse, ostensibly to take “showers.” It was late enough in concentration camp history that the boys knew the truth. Gas would pour through the pipes, not water.

Amid the tumult in the bathhouse, one boy sprang up and shouted: “Brothers! Today is the holiday of Simchas Torah, when the Jewish world rejoices, having concluded the reading of the Torah over the past year, followed directly with the commencement of the new cycle of Torah reading. During our short lives, we have tried to uphold the Torah to the best of our ability, and now we have one last chance to do so. Before we die, let us celebrate Simchas Torah one last time.”

“We do not possess anything anymore,” the boy continued. “We have nothing. We do not have clothes to cover us, nor a Sefer Torah (Torah scroll) with which to dance. So let us dance with G-d Himself — who is surely here among us — before we return our souls to him.”

Never before had its rafters trembled with the pure, sweet strains of fifty young voices raised in fervent song; never before had its concrete floor shaken under the pounding of fifty pairs of feet stamping in unbridled joy.

“What is going on in there?” one scowling Nazi guard asked his comrade as they waited outside.

“It sounds like they’re singing…and dancing. Are they crazy?” another guard said in disbelief.

“Go find out what’s causing the delay,” an officer commanded. “And get the commandant.”

Summoned to the doors of the gas chamber, the commandant listened with growing fury to the incongruous revelry inside. He flung open the gas chamber doors and pulled one boy toward him.

“You,” he shouted. “Tell me why you are all singing and dancing now.”

“Because leaving a world where Nazi beasts reign is cause for celebration,” the boy sneered. “And because we are overjoyed at the prospect of reuniting with our beloved parents, whom you murdered so viciously.”

The commandant became enraged at the boy’s contemptuous words.

Obsequiousness…fear…last-ditch attempts to ingratiate one’s self into his favor — those were acceptable modes of behavior. Insolence was not.

“I’ll teach you a lesson,” he screamed as the boys continued to dance and sing, heedless of his presence. “You thought that the gas chamber would be your last stop. You’ll find out otherwise. The gas chamber would have been easy and painless compared to what awaits you now. I will torture each one of you with unbearable suffering. I will slice your flesh till you expire.” The commandant ordered the guards to remove the boys from the gas chamber and place them in a holding block overnight. He planned to begin the torture sessions the following day.

But the next morning, his plans again went awry. A high-ranking Nazi officer had traveled to Auschwitz to round up slave labor for a work camp that lacked sufficient help. He needed to find several hundred young, able-bodied men capable of performing grueling work under barbarous conditions. As he strode through the camp looking for prospects, the Nazi officer just happened to pass by the barracks in which the fifty religious boys had been temporarily housed. Their vitality undiminished by their overnight stay, the boys still radiated strength and good health. “Excellent,” the Nazi officer smiled in satisfaction, “Exactly the type of boys I need.”

The Nazi officer pulled rank on the camp commandant, who revealed nothing about his original plans for the boys’ fate. He stood silently as the Nazi officer ordered the boys — and several hundred other inmates — to board the trucks that rolled out of Auschwitz into safer climes. Some say that the boys left the grounds singing.

Postscript:  Survivors of Auschwitz report that all fifty boys survived the war.

ACTION: Resolve to learn this year the ‘black fire’, the teachings of Chassidus.

FOOTNOTES
[1] Deuteronomy, 33:2; see Rashi’s commentary.
[2] See our essay on parshas Noach for an introduction to the concept of “kri-and-ksiv“.
[3] Deuteronomy, ibid
[4] Likutei Torah, Shir Hashirim, p. 4c
[5] A seasoned student might ask: why this choice of words–formed” light, and “created” darkness? The mind of the teacher is the locus for the creation of new, innovative ideas. This power of innovation comes from the world of Beriah, ‘Creation’. However, to the student, the world of Beriah is “dark”–it has not yet been articulated and elucidated. When the teacher ‘forms’ words and begins to articulate his inner thought, light is emitted. The speech of the teacher becomes graspable to the student. The power of articulation and speech comes from the world of Yetzirah, ‘Formation’. See Lekutei Torah, ibid.
[6] Deuteronomy, 33:4