Midrash Rabbah (Shemos 33) “quotes” Hashem as saying, “I sold/gave you My Torah – I sold Myself with it.” This may be compared to a king who had one single daughter whom he loved very much. Another king betrothed her and now asked permission to take his new wife to his country. The father replied, “She is my only daughter. On the one hand, I cannot divest myself of her. On the other hand, she is your wife and must follow her husband. I ask only that, wherever you set up your home, you construct a small room for me, so that I can live there in close proximity.” Likewise, Hashem commanded Klal Yisrael to construct a Mishkan for His Presence to repose among them. He gave them His only child – His Torah, from which He cannot separate Himself. Thus, the Daled Amos Shel Halachah, the Four Cubits where Torah is studied, is permeated with Hashem’s Presence. This is our contemporary Mishkan: When a person studies Torah, it is not simply jurisprudence or intellectual gymnastics. Torah is not chochmah, secular wisdom. It is a Divine gift in which the Divine includes Himself with the gift. This is the attitude that should prevail when we learn Torah.
Let us take this a bit further. The Kotzker Rebbe, zl, once asked his students, “Where can Hashem be found?” Immediately, one of them answered, “Everywhere!” The Rebbe disagreed. “No. Hashem can only be found where a person opens the door to let Him in.” We may add that it also depends on how wide we open that door.
A person can sit in a dark room on the brightest summer day and never once experience a single ray of sunlight – simply because he refuses to open the shades. The light is present, the warmth that it generates is available, but, if the person does not avail himself of it, he will not benefit from it in any way. I recently visited someone in the hospital. I walked into his room in which only a small light was on. No sunlight was shining through the window, because the patient had difficulty getting out of bed to open the shade. As a result, the room bespoke gloom, and the patient was equally depressed. I opened the shade of a large, picture window with a panoramic view of downtown. Within a few moments, my friend sat up in bed, and his entire demeanor changed in a positive way.
Life, too, mirrors this verity. Let us focus on spiritual darkness, on the people that are smiling, claiming they are enjoying every minute of life. Yet, they have no spiritual connection, no enduring future legacy, no Torah nachas from their children. So, what do they really have? Darkness. The light is out there, shining brilliantly, illuminating the path of life for all who care enough to make the effort to open the shade, to allow the spiritual light to permeate their lives. People offer various reasons for not opening the shade. Some are obtuse, stubborn, refusing to leave their self-determined comfort zone. Others fear what the light might reveal. And then others are the rachmanus cases: sad, unfortunate people who had never been taught where to find the door, the window shade that would alter their lives. They continue to wander blindly, feeling their way through the shadows, not realizing or refusing to acknowledge that a small crack of straightforwardness and honesty would transform their lives.
Hashem waits for us to invite Him into our lives. For spiritual light to enter requires a human opening. One should never give up – even when he disagrees with the answers he has received. With persistence, he will find or create that crack which will allow light to enter.
The Kotzker’s lesson is timeless and applies to so many of our life’s endeavors. Hashem is never absent; indeed, He awaits entry into our lives. All we must do is open the door. Those who are wise, who seek, who are not obsessed with themselves, will lift the shades and experience Hashem’s abundant light.
