Category: Parshat HaShavua

Devarim:

In three interconnected teachings on the opening of Parashat Devarim, the Maor VaShemesh presents a profound vision of Jewish leadership and communal life. He begins by explaining why Moshe rebukes Israel only through allusion, despite addressing a generation that had not committed the sins he recalls. From here he derives that true tochachah must accomplish two goals simultaneously: it must awaken each individual to self-reflection without causing embarrassment, and it must be accompanied by melitz yosher—advocating on behalf of Israel before Hashem. Moshe exemplifies both qualities.

He then explains why the Jewish people are compared specifically to the stars. Unlike the sun and the moon, whose relationship is defined by hierarchy, each star fulfills its own unique mission without competing with another. So too, the strength and endurance of Klal Yisrael depend on achdut: every individual serving Hashem through his own unique role while strengthening those around him rather than seeking honor or authority.

Finally, the Maor VaShemesh offers a striking interpretation of the episode of the spies. Their mission was never to determine whether Eretz Yisrael was worth entering. The people already understood its incomparable spiritual significance as the land of Torah and the place where the Divine Presence is uniquely revealed. The spies were sent only to gather practical information about the route and the cities. Their failure was that they shifted the focus from the Land’s spiritual purpose to its material blessings before ultimately discouraging the people altogether.

Together, these three teachings reveal a consistent message: enduring Jewish leadership requires humility, sensitivity, advocacy for others, genuine achdut, and an unwavering focus on the spiritual purpose that lies behind every collective endeavor.

 

Bein HaMetzarim

The Maor VaShemesh presents three complementary perspectives on the spiritual work of Bein HaMetzarim. He first explains that these are days of heightened judgment, when our prayers should be offered with greater humility and modesty, “hidden” from the forces of accusation, while drawing upon the Divine attributes of mercy.

He then explains why the Shabbatot of Bein HaMetzarim possess extraordinary spiritual power: precisely because the weekdays descend to such spiritual lows, Shabbat elevates them to even greater heights. This also explains why Chazal established the reading of Parashat Pinchas during this period. By reading the sections describing the korbanot from a kosher Sefer Torah, we fulfill Hashem’s promise that whenever Israel studies the order of the sacrifices, it is considered as though they had actually offered them, providing a powerful measure of spiritual repair during the weeks in which the Temple service ceased.

Finally, the Maor VaShemesh returns to the root cause of the Churban—sinat chinam. Building on Chazal’s teaching, “Hasket—form groups to study Torah,” he explains that dibuk chaverim, friendship and unity forged through Torah learning, is the antidote to the divisiveness that empowered Esav and brought about the destruction. Through humility, prayer, Torah, and authentic achdut, we participate in rebuilding the Shechinah and preparing the way for the final redemption.

 

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Use this source sheet for Devarim and this source sheet for Bein-Hametzarim, complete with footnoted sources and a concise, footnoted bio of R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein (Ma’or Va-Shemesh) to enjoy this teaching at your own pace, perfect for self-learners.

Prepared by Rabbi Shalom (Saul) Orbach

The Ma’or Va-Shemesh is a classic Hasidic commentary on the weekly portions and festivals by R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein of Kraków (1751-1823). A foremost later disciple, and for years the Shamash, of R. Elimelech of Lizhensk, he emerged after his rebbe’s passing as a leading figure in the fourth generation of Chassidut and of Polish Hasidism. His Torah blends close reading of the Psukim with mystical depth, emphasizing Dvekut, heartfelt prayer, joy, and sanctifying the everyday, with a hallmark leadership ethic: the tzaddik sweetens judgment into mercy and draws people close.

Mattot:

This week’s Maor VaShemesh explores two very different episodes, hatarat nedarim and the request of the tribes of Reuven and Gad, but uncovers a common theme. In the first, he explains that the annulment of a vow is far more than a legal mechanism. It reflects the deeper reality that genuine teshuvah can transform a person at his very core, sweetening harsh judgments at their source. The vow can then be annulled because teshuvah has transformed the person who made it, and he is no longer the same person.

In the second, he argues that Reuven and Gad chose to settle east of the Jordan not because they valued Eretz Yisrael less, but because they wanted their participation in conquering the Land to be completely lishmah, free of even the slightest trace of personal benefit.

While the common understanding among the commentators is that Reuven and Gad’s request reflected a misplaced preference for material comfort over the holiness of Eretz Yisrael, and even Moshe himself initially compared them to the spies, the Maor VaShemesh offers a strikingly different interpretation. He sees their request as an extraordinary expression of spiritual integrity.

In both teachings, the Maor VaShemesh directs our attention beneath outward actions to the inner heart of avodat Hashem. What ultimately matters is not only what we do, but who we become through teshuvah, sincerity, and the continual refinement of our intentions.

Massei:

This week’s Maor VaShemesh presents two distinct teachings. In the first, drawing on the Chassidic tradition that the Torah’s record of Bnei Yisrael’s journeys is meant to guide every generation, he explains that the forty-two journeys through the wilderness are not merely a historical record, but a map of every Jew’s spiritual journey.

Each stop represents another stage in personal growth, from overcoming laziness and immersing oneself in Torah, to mastering one’s desires, deepening one’s love and awe of Hashem, and ultimately discovering holiness even within the ordinary world. Once a person has truly conquered his desires, he can engage the world around him without being ruled by it.

In the second teaching, the Maor VaShemesh offers a novel explanation for why the title of Nasi, the tribal leader, is omitted from the names of Caleb, Shmuel, and Eldad. The omission itself serves as a subtle hint that these were individuals who had already demonstrated a willingness to relinquish honor for the sake of Heaven.

Precisely because they did not pursue honor, they ultimately received it. The Maor VaShemesh reminds us that spiritual growth is measured not only by the heights we reach, but by the character we develop and the values we refuse to compromise along the way.

 

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Use this source sheet for Matot and this source sheet for Massei, complete with footnoted sources and a concise, footnoted bio of R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein (Ma’or Va-Shemesh) to enjoy this teaching at your own pace, perfect for self-learners.

Prepared by Rabbi Shalom (Saul) Orbach

The Ma’or Va-Shemesh is a classic Hasidic commentary on the weekly portions and festivals by R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein of Kraków (1751-1823). A foremost later disciple, and for years the Shamash, of R. Elimelech of Lizhensk, he emerged after his rebbe’s passing as a leading figure in the fourth generation of Chassidut and of Polish Hasidism. His Torah blends close reading of the Psukim with mystical depth, emphasizing Dvekut, heartfelt prayer, joy, and sanctifying the everyday, with a hallmark leadership ethic: the tzaddik sweetens judgment into mercy and draws people close.

In this week’s parsha, the Maor VaShemesh teaches that Pinchas did not earn Brit Shalom simply because he acted zealously. Many people perform mitzvot with alacrity. What made Pinchas unique was the extraordinary mesirut nefesh with which he acted. His overwhelming longing to cleave to Hashem transformed not only himself, but even elevated the hidden sparks within Zimri and Kozbi, explaining both his eternal association with Eliyahu and why his deed continues to atone for future generations.

He then turns to a seemingly technical question: why does the Torah go out of its way to trace Pinchas’ lineage back to Aharon?

His answer is not simply to defend Pinchas’ pedigree, but to refute the accusation that his actions stemmed from his nature rather than from pure devotion to Hashem. The Torah testifies that his zeal was entirely l’shem Shamayim.

Finally, in one of the week’s most beautiful teachings, the Maor VaShemesh asks why Eretz Yisrael was divided by Divine lottery. He explains that the Land was never simply divided as real estate.

Every family received the unique portion corresponding to the spiritual mission entrusted to it. The daughters of Tzelofchad understood this. They weren’t merely asking to inherit their father’s property; they were asking to continue the sacred task that belonged to his soul.

Their request was not about ownership, but about purpose.

In this week’s parsha, the Meor VaShemesh asks a deceptively simple question: why was Balak frightened specifically by what Israel did to the Amorites, and not by their defeat of Og, who was actually the more formidable king? And why did Moab and Midian, longtime enemies, suddenly decide to make peace with one another?

His answer reframes the entire story.

Balak understood something that many people miss. Israel’s strength was not military. Their victories flowed from their achdut. Their love, unity, and mutual responsibility were the true source of their power. When Moab and Midian formed an alliance, they were trying to imitate what they saw. The Meor VaShemesh notes that the kelipah follows holiness like a monkey imitating a human. The imitation may look similar on the surface, but it lacks the real thing.

To illustrate the point, he brings a striking story, one that carries particular weight because the Meor VaShemesh himself had served as shamash to the Rebbe Reb Elimelech of Lizhensk. Reb Zusha of Anipoli once asked his brother, Reb Elimelech, the secret behind his miracles. The answer was simple: the love and unity among the tzaddikim. That’s it. That’s the whole thing.

The Meor VaShemesh then turns to the actual words used by Balak and Bilam. They weren’t simply looking for different ways to say “curse.” Each word reflected a different strategy. Balak sought to pull Israel down from the lofty spiritual level that protected them. Bilam aimed even deeper: to separate them from their source and cast them into a world of fragmentation and division.

That is why God’s response was so precise: “Do not curse the people, for it is blessed.” The word “blessed” appears in the singular. Israel is connected to a level of divine oneness that transcends division itself. As long as they remain attached to that unity, there is simply no opening through which the curse can enter.

Bilam’s final attempt is fascinating. Since a Torah scroll contains no vowels, he sought to reinterpret God’s own words, reading baruch as barach, “soft” or “weak,” and thereby transform the blessing into a subtle curse. Even that failed.

Along the way, the Meor VaShemesh also resolves a famous question about Moshe and Yehoshua. Why did the generation that witnessed the greatest miracles in history stumble repeatedly, while Yehoshua’s generation remained far more steadfast? His answer is striking. Moshe was like the sun, too brilliant to look at directly. Yehoshua was like the moon, reflecting that same light in a form people could actually receive. Sometimes influence depends not only on the greatness of the teacher, but on the ability of the student to absorb what is being taught.

Shabbat Shalom

 

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Use this source sheet for further exploration of Parshat Balak, complete with footnoted sources and a concise, footnoted bio of R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein (Ma’or Va-Shemesh) to enjoy this teaching at your own pace, perfect for self-learners.

Prepared by Rabbi Shalom (Saul) Orbach

The Ma’or Va-Shemesh is a classic Hasidic commentary on the weekly portions and festivals by R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein of Kraków (1751-1823). A foremost later disciple, and for years the Shamash, of R. Elimelech of Lizhensk, he emerged after his rebbe’s passing as a leading figure in the fourth generation of Chassidut and of Polish Hasidism. His Torah blends close reading of the Psukim with mystical depth, emphasizing Dvekut, heartfelt prayer, joy, and sanctifying the everyday, with a hallmark leadership ethic: the tzaddik sweetens judgment into mercy and draws people close.

The Mystery of the Chok and the Mystery of the Rock

In this week’s parsha, the Ma’or VaShemesh develops two fascinating ideas.

First, in his introductory piece about Parah Adumah, he suggests that even those commandments whose reasons seem clear and understandable ultimately contain depths that remain hidden from us. What appears revealed and accessible is, in a deeper sense, still beyond complete human understanding.

In the main piece, he turns to one of the Torah’s great mysteries: Mei Merivah and Moshe’s encounter with the rock.

Most commentaries focus on Moshe’s actions and ask what exactly his mistake was. The Ma’or VaShemesh asks a different question: why were Bnei Yisrael so focused on Miriam’s rock?

His answer offers a profound lesson about faith, leadership, loss, and our tendency to confuse the channels through which blessing arrives with the true source of the blessing itself.

Wishing everyone a peaceful and meaningful Shabbat.

Re the Nispach:

I reference it in the footnotes of the piece but you can decide whether to include it or not.

 

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Use this source sheet for Chukat and this additional source sheet for further exploration of Mei Merivah, complete with footnoted sources and a concise, footnoted bio of R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein (Ma’or Va-Shemesh) to enjoy this teaching at your own pace, perfect for self-learners.

Prepared by Rabbi Shalom (Saul) Orbach

The Ma’or Va-Shemesh is a classic Hasidic commentary on the weekly portions and festivals by R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein of Kraków (1751-1823). A foremost later disciple, and for years the Shamash, of R. Elimelech of Lizhensk, he emerged after his rebbe’s passing as a leading figure in the fourth generation of Chassidut and of Polish Hasidism. His Torah blends close reading of the Psukim with mystical depth, emphasizing Dvekut, heartfelt prayer, joy, and sanctifying the everyday, with a hallmark leadership ethic: the tzaddik sweetens judgment into mercy and draws people close.

The Ma’or Va-Shemesh sees Korach’s rebellion as far more than a challenge to Moshe’s leadership. The root of Korach’s error was separation. Onkelos translates “Vayikach Korach” as “Ve’itpaleg” (“he separated himself”), teaching that Korach tore apart realities that were meant to remain united. God created the world through different levels and attributes, but all are ultimately interconnected.

The task of the righteous is to recognize distinctions while preserving their underlying unity. Korach failed by separating gevurah (judgment) from rachamim (mercy), emphasizing strict judgment and equality while rejecting the harmony that comes from integrating opposites. This explains why the Torah traces his lineage only to Levi and not to Yaakov, whose defining role is to unite opposing forces into a greater whole.

The Ma’or Va-Shemesh then revisits the Mishnah’s famous contrast between a dispute “for the sake of Heaven” and the dispute of Korach. Drawing on the teaching of the Noam Elimelech, he notes that the Mishnah does not describe the conflict as one between Korach and Moshe, but between “Korach and his congregation.” The reason is that even within Korach’s camp there was no true unity.

Although they appeared united against Moshe, each person was pursuing his own interests, ambitions, and desire for honor. Their alliance was temporary and superficial. By contrast, Hillel and Shammai disagreed because they were jointly seeking truth. Their arguments endured because they were rooted in sincerity rather than self-interest.

Finally, the Ma’or Va-Shemesh explains why Yaakov prayed that his name not be associated with Korach’s rebellion. Yaakov represents the attribute of emet (truth). Had even a small measure of genuine truth been mixed into Korach’s movement, the dispute might have gained strength and endured. Yaakov’s prayer ensured that Korach’s rebellion would contain no sustaining element of truth.

As a result, the conflict quickly collapsed. The lesson is that the durability of a disagreement depends not only on the correctness of its claims, but on the motivations that lie beneath them. Disputes rooted in a sincere search for truth can endure and elevate; disputes driven by ego and personal ambition ultimately destroy themselves.

Shabbat Shalom

 

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Use this source sheet, complete with footnoted sources for Parshat Korach and a concise, footnoted bio of R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein (Ma’or Va-Shemesh) to enjoy this teaching at your own pace, perfect for self-learners.

Prepared by Rabbi Shalom (Saul) Orbach

The Ma’or Va-Shemesh is a classic Hasidic commentary on the weekly portions and festivals by R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein of Kraków (1751-1823). A foremost later disciple, and for years the Shamash, of R. Elimelech of Lizhensk, he emerged after his rebbe’s passing as a leading figure in the fourth generation of Chassidut and of Polish Hasidism. His Torah blends close reading of the Psukim with mystical depth, emphasizing Dvekut, heartfelt prayer, joy, and sanctifying the everyday, with a hallmark leadership ethic: the tzaddik sweetens judgment into mercy and draws people close.

Why send the spies at all?

The story of the spies in Parshat Shelach is one of the most perplexing in all of the Torah.

G-d promises the Jewish people a land flowing with milk and honey. He takes them out of Egypt with signs and wonders, splits the sea, provides them with manna from Heaven, and brings them to the very edge of entering the Land. Then, suddenly, everything falls apart.

The people ask to send spies. Twelve distinguished leaders are chosen. Ten return with a devastating report. The nation loses faith, the generation is condemned to wander in the desert for forty years, and entry into the Land is delayed.

Yet one question has always lingered beneath the surface of the story: Why send spies at all?

If G-d already knew what the spies would say, why agree to the mission? More fundamentally, if the Land had already been promised, what purpose could such a mission possibly serve?

The Ma’or Va-Shemesh addresses this question through a careful reading of the text itself.

Rereading the text

Rashi famously explains the words “שלח לך” as “לדעתך” — “for yourself.” G-d was not commanding Moshe to send spies; if he wished to send them, he could.

But this is difficult to understand. The Torah seems to say exactly the opposite. G-d says, “שלח לך אנשים,” and only a few verses later we read that Moshe sent them “על פי ה’.” It sounds very much like a Divine command.

Rather than simply reconciling the contradiction, the Ma’or Va-Shemesh begins looking closely at the language of the verses themselves. Why does the Torah use the word anashim, which can denote the minimum plural of two? Why the unusual phrase “איש אחד איש אחד”? Why does Moshe later emphasize in Sefer Devarim that it was the people who requested that spies be sent? And why, when Yehoshua eventually sends spies into the Land, does he send precisely two?

Taken together, these details lead him to a striking conclusion: G-d didn’t want to send twelve spies. He wanted to send two.

According to the Ma’or Va-Shemesh, Yehoshua and Kalev were the only spies meant to be sent. The other ten were added only after the people insisted on expanding the mission, as Moshe later recalls in Sefer Devarim.

This transforms the entire story.

A mistreatment of God’s will

We generally understand the episode through Rashi’s famous comment that G-d acquiesced to the people’s request, allowing Moshe to send spies if he wished. The Ma’or Va-Shemesh agrees, but adds a crucial layer. G-d did authorize a mission, but only the mission represented by Yehoshua and Kalev. The expansion from two spies to twelve came not from G-d’s instruction, but from the people’s demand.

The tragedy of the spies therefore did not begin when ten of them returned with a negative report. It began much earlier. It began when a mission intended to prepare the people for entering the Land became a mission intended to determine whether they should enter it at all.

For the people, the spies were meant to answer the question, “Should we go?”

For Yehoshua and Kalev, the spies were meant to answer the question, “How should we go?”

According to the Ma’or Va-Shemesh, that distinction lies at the heart of the entire episode.

It is a remarkable reading, one that emerges not from a homiletical flourish, but from a close reading of the verses in Shelach, Moshe’s retelling of the episode in Sefer Devarim, and Yehoshua’s own decision years later to send precisely two spies.

Shabbat Shalom.

 

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Use this source sheet, complete with footnoted sources for PArshat Shlach and a concise, footnoted bio of R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein (Ma’or Va-Shemesh) to enjoy this teaching at your own pace, perfect for self-learners.

Prepared by Rabbi Shalom (Saul) Orbach

The Ma’or Va-Shemesh is a classic Hasidic commentary on the weekly portions and festivals by R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein of Kraków (1751-1823). A foremost later disciple, and for years the Shamash, of R. Elimelech of Lizhensk, he emerged after his rebbe’s passing as a leading figure in the fourth generation of Chassidut and of Polish Hasidism. His Torah blends close reading of the Psukim with mystical depth, emphasizing Dvekut, heartfelt prayer, joy, and sanctifying the everyday, with a hallmark leadership ethic: the tzaddik sweetens judgment into mercy and draws people close.

The Ma’or VaShemesh on Parshat Beha’alotecha develops two seemingly separate themes, the lighting of the Menorah and the inverted נו״ן surrounding “Vayehi Binso’a Ha’Aron” (“And it was when the Ark traveled”), but beneath the surface both are exploring the same spiritual question: how closeness to God is created, sustained, lost, and restored.

The piece begins with Aharon’s lighting of the Menorah. The Ma’or VaShemesh explains that the candles represent the souls of the Jewish people, and the role of the tzaddik (righteous spiritual leader) is to ignite those souls with love of God, Torah, and prayer. But the deeper challenge is not inspiration in the moment. People can feel uplifted in the presence of holiness, a great teacher, or a powerful spiritual experience, yet struggle to sustain that fire once the moment passes. That, says the Ma’or VaShemesh, is the meaning of Rashi’s comment that the flame must burn “ad she’tehei shalhevet oleh mei’eileha” (“until the flame rises on its own”). The true test of spiritual leadership is whether the encounter ignites something deep and lasting enough that it continues even after separation from the tzaddik.

At the same time, the Ma’or VaShemesh insists that this ability comes specifically through humility. The Menorah is described as “mikshah” (“hammered from a single piece”), which he reads as a description of the true spiritual leader: someone who sees himself as small before God and deeply connected to every Jew. Selflessness here is not merely a moral quality of leadership, but its spiritual mechanism. Precisely because the tzaddik is not centered on himself, he becomes capable of transmitting something larger than himself and awakening it within others.

The second half of the piece turns to the inverted נו״ן surrounding “Vayehi Binso’a Ha’Aron.” Here the Ma’or VaShemesh explains that exile, struggle, and spiritual concealment are real, but they are not signs of abandonment. God’s deepest desire is always closeness and kindness toward Israel. The inverted נו״ן represents moments when that connection feels disrupted or hidden, while Moshe’s prayer represents the possibility of restoring that connection and transforming דין (din, judgment) back into רחמים (rachamim, mercy).

Seen together, both halves of the piece are describing the same spiritual drama: what happens when connection weakens, whether between a person and God, a student and teacher, or moments of inspiration and ordinary life, and how that connection can be renewed and sustained.

The Ma’or VaShemesh ultimately suggests that true spiritual influence is measured not only by the intensity of the moment itself, but by what remains afterward. The role of the tzaddik is not merely to awaken inspiration while people stand nearby, but to ignite something lasting enough that it can continue to burn even through distance, struggle, and concealment. The challenge is not simply how to reach moments of elevation, but how to carry them into ordinary life, until the flame itself learns to rise on its own.

 

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Use this source sheet, complete with footnoted sources and a concise, footnoted bio of R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein (Ma’or Va-Shemesh) to enjoy this teaching at your own pace, perfect for self-learners.

Prepared by Rabbi Shalom (Saul) Orbach

The Ma’or Va-Shemesh is a classic Hasidic commentary on the weekly portions and festivals by R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein of Kraków (1751-1823). A foremost later disciple, and for years the Shamash, of R. Elimelech of Lizhensk, he emerged after his rebbe’s passing as a leading figure in the fourth generation of Chassidut and of Polish Hasidism. His Torah blends close reading of the Psukim with mystical depth, emphasizing Dvekut, heartfelt prayer, joy, and sanctifying the everyday, with a hallmark leadership ethic: the tzaddik sweetens judgment into mercy and draws people close.

Shavuot

Shavuot is known as the holiday of Matan Torah, the giving of the Torah. But in the Ma’or Va-Shemesh, Torah is not presented merely as law, obligation, or even spiritual inspiration. It is presented as a path toward devekut (attachment to God), inner transformation, unity, and love.

He begins with the dramatic scene at Har Sinai, where the Jewish people “saw the sounds and the torches.” At first glance, this appears to describe the height of revelation. Yet the Ma’or VaShemesh asks a striking question: if this was the ultimate spiritual experience, why were they still experiencing external phenomena at all?

His answer is radical. The ultimate goal of avodat Hashem is not spiritual experiences themselves, but attachment to God Himself. As long as a person is still captivated by visions, sounds, or spiritual manifestations, he has not yet reached the deepest level of devekut. Even genuine spiritual experiences can become distractions if one mistakes the revelation for the Source behind it.

This becomes the deeper meaning of the nisayon, the “test,” at Sinai. Would the people become attached to the kolot u’lapidim (sounds and torches), or continue beyond them toward the Divine Himself?

From there, the Ma’or VaShemesh develops a profound understanding of Torah itself. The entire Torah, he explains, is ultimately contained within “Anochi Hashem Elokecha.” The mitzvot are not merely commandments, but, as the Zohar describes them, eitzot (pathways or counsels) through which finite human beings gradually come to know and attach themselves to God.

But this raises a practical problem. No individual can fulfill the entire Torah alone. Many mitzvot belong specifically to Kohanim, Leviim, the Beit HaMikdash, Eretz Yisrael, or particular life situations.

His answer is אהבה ואחדות, ahavah v’achdut, love and unity.

When Jews become deeply connected to one another, each person becomes connected not only to the other individual, but also to the Torah, mitzvot, and spiritual work fulfilled by the other. In this sense, כלל ישראל together become the complete embodiment of Torah.

Finally, he reinterprets נעשה ונשמע, na’aseh v’nishma. The greatness of Israel was not merely obedience before understanding. Human beings often act quickly because they fear losing an opportunity. The angels, however, act immediately because love of God burns within them constantly. At Sinai, ישראל reached this angelic level. Their “נעשה” emerged not from blind obedience, but from overwhelming love and longing to fulfill the Divine Will.

Taken together, the Ma’or VaShemesh presents a vision of Torah not merely as obligation, but as a process of transformation, one through which human beings gradually move beyond fragmentation, ego, and externality toward attachment, unity, love, and ultimately toward God Himself.

Parshat Nasso

In this week’s parsha, Naso, the Ma’or Va-Shemesh develops a remarkably consistent idea across several seemingly unrelated sections of the parsha: a person is never spiritually isolated.

Our actions do not affect only ourselves. They either bring harmony into the world, or distortion into it.

In his discussion of teshuvah (repentance/return), the Ma’or VaShemesh explains that even small sins left uncorrected gradually reshape a person from within. “Aveirah goreret aveirah” (“one sin leads to another”). Using the symbolic language of Sefer Yetzirah, he describes the righteous person as bringing harmony to the foundational elements of creation, while sin disorders them. Teshuvah is not merely forgiveness. It is restoration.

But he then develops the same idea in very different ways throughout the parsha.

The Nazir is not merely someone abstaining from wine, but someone attempting to transform harshness into holiness and compassion.

The Kohen can only truly bless the Jewish people if he genuinely loves them, because blessing itself flows through ahavat Yisrael (love of one’s fellow Jew).

And Birkat Kohanim (the Priestly Blessing) ultimately culminates not with wealth or even spiritual enlightenment, but with shalom (peace), because peace is the vessel that allows blessing to endure.

Taken together, the Ma’or VaShemesh paints a profound picture of spiritual life. We are not disconnected individuals pursuing private spirituality. We shape one another. We elevate or damage the spiritual fabric around us. And true blessing emerges not only from holiness, but from connection, responsibility, and genuine care for others.

 

 

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Use this source sheet for Shavuot and this source sheet for Parshat Naso, complete with footnoted sources and a concise, footnoted bio of R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein (Ma’or Va-Shemesh) to enjoy this teaching at your own pace, perfect for self-learners.

Prepared by Rabbi Shalom (Saul) Orbach

The Ma’or Va-Shemesh is a classic Hasidic commentary on the weekly portions and festivals by R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein of Kraków (1751-1823). A foremost later disciple, and for years the Shamash, of R. Elimelech of Lizhensk, he emerged after his rebbe’s passing as a leading figure in the fourth generation of Chassidut and of Polish Hasidism. His Torah blends close reading of the Psukim with mystical depth, emphasizing Dvekut, heartfelt prayer, joy, and sanctifying the everyday, with a hallmark leadership ethic: the tzaddik sweetens judgment into mercy and draws people close.

In this week’s parsha, the Ma’or Va-Shemesh develops a profound vision of spiritual growth, the inner nature of the Mishkan, and the deep spiritual connection between the leaders of Israel and the souls of the people.

He begins with a question on the word “לאמר” (“saying”). Usually, “לאמר” means that when Hashem tells someone something, it is meant to be passed onward to others, in this case from Hashem to Moshe and then to the Jewish people. But here, no further message follows. What, then, is the meaning of “לאמר” in this context?

The Ma’or Va-Shemesh explains, based on Chazal, that “אמירה” (amirah, gentle or inward speech) implies something quieter and more hidden, while “דיבור” (dibur, open proclamation) represents public and outward expression. This reflects different stages in avodat Hashem (service of God). At the beginning of spiritual growth, a person often needs intense effort and outwardly visible spiritual excitement in Torah and tefillah (prayer) in order to break free from a state of spiritual constriction and limitation. This is the stage of initial awakening, when the avodah (spiritual work) is energetic, emotional, and externally expressed.

But after spiritual maturation, and especially after a person experiences later descents and struggles and learns how to rebuild from them, one can reach a deeper level where the avodah becomes quieter, more פנימי (penimi, inward and internal), and more hidden, yet filled with even greater אהבה ויראה (ahavah v’yirah, love and awe of God). The external intensity becomes internalized. The highest spiritual maturity is not the intensity of the first awakening, but the quieter depth that emerges after struggle, return, and rebuilding.

This, he explains, is the movement from Har Sinai to the Mishkan. Sinai was a moment of overwhelming public revelation, with thunder, sound, and open display. The Mishkan represents a different kind of relationship with Hashem, one that is quieter, more intimate, and carried within the life of the people themselves. Holiness is no longer only encountered in dramatic moments of revelation, but internalized and sustained from within.

He then explains that the census in Bamidbar was not merely intended to count the Jewish people numerically. The very act of counting was itself part of a תיקון (tikkun, spiritual repair and elevation) for כלל ישראל (Klal Yisrael, the collective people of Israel) and for the souls connected to them. This is reflected in the Torah’s unusual phrase שאו את ראש (“lift up the heads”) rather than simply “count them.” The counting itself was meant to spiritually elevate the people and draw them upward.

The census also helped elevate and repair souls from earlier generations, including souls that had returned through גלגול (gilgul, the return of a soul in a later life in order to continue or complete its spiritual mission in this world). Even the wording of the פסוקים (pesukim, verses) reflects how later generations can spiritually elevate earlier ones, while the קדושה (kedushah, holiness) and merit of the אבות (Avot, the forefathers) continue to protect and shape their descendants.

Finally, he presents a profound understanding of Jewish leadership. Moshe, Aharon, and the נשיאים (Nesi’im, tribal leaders) were not simply leaders in an organizational sense. They were נשמות כוללות (neshamot kolelot, collective souls of Israel). Through deep attachment to the people and a kind of spiritual selflessness, they were able to elevate them spiritually and draw down רחמים and קדושה (rachamim and kedushah, Divine compassion and holiness) upon them.

The Ma’or Va-Shemesh connects this to the kabbalistic idea of עיבור (ibur, a spiritual “inter-inclusion” in which one soul carries and nurtures another within itself), where the leader spiritually “carries” and nurtures the souls of his people within himself.

What emerges from all three pieces is a unified vision of spiritual growth as a movement from the external to the internal. In the beginning, holiness often appears through intensity, visible effort, and public expression. But as a person matures spiritually, the avodah becomes quieter, deeper, and more inwardly rooted.

Sinai shakes the world. The Mishkan rests quietly within it. The census counts bodies, but beneath the surface it is also lifting, repairing, and reconnecting souls to their source. And the leader who counts is not merely an administrator, but a נשמה כוללת (neshamah kolelet, a collective soul), spiritually carrying the people within himself.

In the end, the goal isn’t just to experience holiness in a moment of inspiration, but to become a person in whom holiness can quietly dwell.

 

 

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Use this source sheet, complete with footnoted sources and a concise, footnoted bio of R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein (Ma’or Va-Shemesh) to enjoy this teaching at your own pace, perfect for self-learners.

Prepared by Rabbi Shalom (Saul) Orbach

The Ma’or Va-Shemesh is a classic Hasidic commentary on the weekly portions and festivals by R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein of Kraków (1751-1823). A foremost later disciple, and for years the Shamash, of R. Elimelech of Lizhensk, he emerged after his rebbe’s passing as a leading figure in the fourth generation of Chassidut and of Polish Hasidism. His Torah blends close reading of the Psukim with mystical depth, emphasizing Dvekut, heartfelt prayer, joy, and sanctifying the everyday, with a hallmark leadership ethic: the tzaddik sweetens judgment into mercy and draws people close.

Parshat Behar

In Parshat Behar, the Ma’or Va-Shemesh reframes shemittah (the sabbatical year) as something much deeper than an agricultural mitzvah.

He begins with a striking idea. The land itself committed a chet ha’aretz (a “sin of the land”) at creation, changing its role, but did so leshem shamayim (for the sake of Heaven), so that when adam (man) would later fall, he would not stand alone. From that moment on, adam and adamah (man and land) are bound together.

But the תיקון (tikkun=repair) does not start with the land. The Ma’or Va-Shemesh is clear: the hizdakchut (refinement) of the land is teluyah b’hizdakchut ha’adam (dependent on the refinement of the person). The land responds, it does not initiate.

That is what shemittah reveals. If the six years are lived properly, if a person works leshem shamayim, not for accumulation but for avodat Hashem, then something shifts. The land itself becomes refined and returns to its original state, giving without effort in the seventh year. Not as a supernatural override, but as a restoration of what the world was meant to be.

And if not? Then the shefa (divine abundance) still comes, but through a different system, not as the natural result of alignment, but as an act of chesed (divine kindness).

Shemittah, then, is not just rest. It is a window into how the world is meant to function, a world in which adam and adamah rise together. The only question is whether we live in a way that allows that to happen.

Parshat Bechukotai

In Parshat Bechukotai, the Ma’or Va-Shemesh takes the idea that what we receive is shaped not just by what we do, but by the orientation behind it, and grounds it in Rashi’s explanation of “אם בחוקותי תלכו” (im bechukotai telechu — “if you walk in My statutes”).

Rashi explains this as שתהיו עמלים בתורה (she’tihyu ameilim baTorah — that you should toil in Torah). But the Ma’or Va-Shemesh notices something simple and precise. The pasuk says “תלכו” (telechu — “you will walk”), not “you will learn.”

It’s describing how a person walks through life.

A person inevitably engages in melachah (work). The question is not whether we work, but what that work is for.

If one’s amal (effort), even in melachah, is directed leshem shamayim (for the sake of Heaven), to support a life of Torah and avodah (service of Hashem), then that work is not separate. It becomes part of ameilut baTorah (toiling in Torah). The same actions, but now part of one integrated system.

And in that kind of life, berachah (blessing) and shalom (peace) emerge, not only externally, but within the person, a life without kin’ah (jealousy) and without machloket (conflict).

But if the work stands on its own, if it becomes about accumulation or desire, then even though nothing has changed on the surface, the direction is entirely different. That path leads toward kin’ah, and from there to machloket.

Externally, it looks the same.  But internally, it’s not the same life at all.

The Ma’or Va-Shemesh leaves us with a sharp question: Is what we’re doing just work, or is everything we’re doing part of ameilim baTorah?

Shabbat Shalom.

 

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Use this source sheet for Parshat Behar and this source sheet for Parshat Bechukotai, complete with footnoted sources and a concise, footnoted bio of R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein (Ma’or Va-Shemesh) to enjoy this teaching at your own pace, perfect for self-learners.

Prepared by Rabbi Shalom (Saul) Orbach

The Ma’or Va-Shemesh is a classic Hasidic commentary on the weekly portions and festivals by R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein of Kraków (1751-1823). A foremost later disciple, and for years the Shamash, of R. Elimelech of Lizhensk, he emerged after his rebbe’s passing as a leading figure in the fourth generation of Chassidut and of Polish Hasidism. His Torah blends close reading of the Psukim with mystical depth, emphasizing Dvekut, heartfelt prayer, joy, and sanctifying the everyday, with a hallmark leadership ethic: the tzaddik sweetens judgment into mercy and draws people close.

In this week’s parsha, in the middle of the discussion of the mo’adim, the Torah introduces a seemingly unrelated mitzvah: when you harvest your field, do not take it all the way to the edge. Leave the corner, the pe’ah, for the poor and the stranger. It’s a striking placement. Why here?

The Ma’or VaShemesh suggests that this is not an interruption, but an explanation. The verse of pe’ah is teaching us something about the nature of the mo’adim, and in particular, about the days of Sefirat HaOmer that connect them.

We tend to experience growth as something that should be visible. We invest effort and expect to see change, to feel that something has taken hold. And when it doesn’t, when progress seems to fade almost as quickly as it appears, it’s natural to wonder whether anything is really happening at all.

But the avodah of these days moves differently.

The Ma’or VaShemesh describes the Omer as a process in which something unfolds, step by step, week by week. Each stage brings something real into the world. And yet, in the early stages, it does not seem to hold. It arrives, and then it feels as though it slips away. The effort is real, but the result is hard to grasp.

This is not a failure of the process. It is the process.

What appears not to hold is not lost. It is accumulating, quietly, beneath the surface. And then, at a certain point, everything that has been drawn until now begins to come together. Not as separate efforts, but as a single, integrated whole.

Lag BaOmer is experienced as a day of light, a day of opening. But in this light, it is not the arrival of something new. It is a גילוי, a revealing, of what has already been building all along.

This is where pe’ah comes back into focus.

A person who harvests his entire field to the very edge leaves no room for what is not yet in hand. Everything must be immediate, complete, visible. But the Torah asks something different. לֹא תְכַלֶּה פְּאַת שָׂדְךָ. Leave the edge. Do not demand that the entire field yield itself at once.

The pe’ah is the part of the field that acknowledges that not everything reveals itself immediately. That something real may already be there, even if it cannot yet be gathered.

The days of Sefirat HaOmer ask for the same posture. To continue the avodah even when it does not seem to hold. To trust that what is being built is not lost, even when it is not yet visible.

And then, when the light of Lag BaOmer arrives, it is not a new beginning.

We realize that what felt like it wasn’t working was actually building.

 

 

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Use this source sheet for Emor and this source sheet for Lag B’Omer, complete with footnoted sources and a concise, footnoted bio of R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein (Ma’or Va-Shemesh) to enjoy this teaching at your own pace, perfect for self-learners.

Prepared by Rabbi Shalom (Saul) Orbach

The Ma’or Va-Shemesh is a classic Hasidic commentary on the weekly portions and festivals by R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein of Kraków (1751-1823). A foremost later disciple, and for years the Shamash, of R. Elimelech of Lizhensk, he emerged after his rebbe’s passing as a leading figure in the fourth generation of Chassidut and of Polish Hasidism. His Torah blends close reading of the Psukim with mystical depth, emphasizing Dvekut, heartfelt prayer, joy, and sanctifying the everyday, with a hallmark leadership ethic: the tzaddik sweetens judgment into mercy and draws people close.

In this week’s Torah portions, Acharei Mot and Kedoshim, the Ma’or VaShemesh reads the two parshiot as two stages in a single process in avodat Hashem. “Acharei Mot,” after the death of Nadav and Avihu, at the very center of the inauguration of the Mishkan, a moment that could have unraveled everything. One might expect that access to the Kodesh HaKodashim would now be restricted or closed.

Instead, the Torah teaches something more precise. Aharon is uniquely able to enter, even at any time, but only through the exact סדר (seder), with preparation and intention. Entry is not removed, but it is no longer casual. After rupture, access is not taken away, but it becomes defined. It demands structure and precision, and that shift is not only about the process, but about the person who can be entrusted with it.

And it is specifically Aharon, not Moshe, who stands at the center of this avodah. Moshe represents a level of clarity and perfection that stands apart. Aharon, by contrast, is the one who lives within the complexity of the people and is able to draw them close, to reconnect them. There are forms of perfection that elevate, and there are forms of imperfection that connect, and sometimes it is the ability to connect that allows something deeper to emerge.

The Ma’or VaShemesh develops this further: the one who is engaged in his own avodah, who is doing teshuvah, does not remain alone in that process. His teshuvah awakens others, his work lifts those connected to him. The capacity to elevate others emerges precisely from being within the process, not outside of it.

From there, the Torah turns to “Kedoshim Tihiyu,” you shall be holy. Here too, one might assume that kedushah comes through פרישות (perishut), through separation and even isolation. And indeed, there is a place for distance from what is harmful. But that is not where the Ma’or VaShemesh locates kedushah. “דבר אל כל עדת בני ישראל” (daber el kol adat Bnei Yisrael), the command is given בהקהל (behakhel), to the entire community together. True kedushah is not achieved in isolation, but through דבקות (devekut) with others who are engaged in avodat Hashem, through תפילה בציבור (tefillah be-tzibbur), through shared עבודה (avodah).

There are things a person can protect through separation, but kedushah is only achieved through connection. Taken together, the two parshiot describe a clear process. After rupture, avodah becomes more precise, more structured, but it is not meant to lead to withdrawal. It is meant to lead back into connection, into the collective work of those seeking Hashem.

And within that, the deeper insight: a person’s avodah is never only personal. The one who does teshuvah honestly, who works through his own complexity, becomes, almost without intending it, a source of elevation for others. We are shaped by what we go through, and we elevate others by how we go through it.

Shabbat Shalom.

 

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Use this source sheet for Acharei Mot and this source sheet for Kedoshim, complete with footnoted sources and a concise, footnoted bio of R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein (Ma’or Va-Shemesh) to enjoy this teaching at your own pace, perfect for self-learners.

Prepared by Rabbi Shalom (Saul) Orbach

The Ma’or Va-Shemesh is a classic Hasidic commentary on the weekly portions and festivals by R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein of Kraków (1751-1823). A foremost later disciple, and for years the Shamash, of R. Elimelech of Lizhensk, he emerged after his rebbe’s passing as a leading figure in the fourth generation of Chassidut and of Polish Hasidism. His Torah blends close reading of the Psukim with mystical depth, emphasizing Dvekut, heartfelt prayer, joy, and sanctifying the everyday, with a hallmark leadership ethic: the tzaddik sweetens judgment into mercy and draws people close.

The Meor VaShemesh understands Tazria and Metzora as one continuous spiritual process.

In Tazria, he explains that holiness enters the world through Itaruta d’letata, an arousal or awakening from below. God structured creation so that blessing flows only when man first stirs himself toward Him. Spiritual growth begins when we initiate the movement.

But Metzora adds a warning: inspiration itself can become dangerous.

The Meor VaShemesh interprets se’eit, sapachat, and baheret as symbols of genuine spiritual elevation that becomes corrupted when a person begins delighting in his own spirituality rather than in God.

That is why the metzora’s healing is complete only when the Torah says “v’hinei nirpa”, “and behold, he has been healed.” The true sign of healing is not merely that the affliction is gone, but that the person has been inwardly transformed, that the brokenness of teshuvah has become the joy of return.

The message of Tazria–Metzora is that spiritual life begins when we move first. But authentic growth is measured not by inspiration alone, rather by whether that inspiration leads to humility and joy.

 

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Use this source sheet for Tazria and this source sheet for Metzora, complete with footnoted sources and a concise, footnoted bio of R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein (Ma’or Va-Shemesh) to enjoy this teaching at your own pace, perfect for self-learners.

Prepared by Rabbi Shalom (Saul) Orbach

The Ma’or Va-Shemesh is a classic Hasidic commentary on the weekly portions and festivals by R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein of Kraków (1751-1823). A foremost later disciple, and for years the Shamash, of R. Elimelech of Lizhensk, he emerged after his rebbe’s passing as a leading figure in the fourth generation of Chassidut and of Polish Hasidism. His Torah blends close reading of the Psukim with mystical depth, emphasizing Dvekut, heartfelt prayer, joy, and sanctifying the everyday, with a hallmark leadership ethic: the tzaddik sweetens judgment into mercy and draws people close.

In this week’s parsha, the Ma’or VaShemesh teaches that the final stage of the Mishkan’s inauguration could not be completed by Moshe, but rather specifically by Aharon.

The Mishkan itself is a response to the Golden Calf, a process of repair that must pass through the failure, not bypass it. Moshe, who stood outside the sin, could build the structure, but he could not complete the required rectification. That required Aharon, who was part of the moment and could now transform it.

Teshuvah is not about erasing the past, but transforming it. The same act, the same material, now directed toward holiness.

Aharon takes on greater responsibility, holding himself to a higher standard, while the people are not defined by their failure and are able to step forward on their own, “vayikrevu kol ha’edah.”

The Shechinah descends not when the work is finished, but when accountability is shared.

Be strict with yourself, and generous with others. That is how something broken becomes whole.

 

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Use this source sheet, complete with footnoted sources and a concise, footnoted bio of R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein (Ma’or Va-Shemesh) to enjoy this teaching at your own pace, perfect for self-learners.

Prepared by Rabbi Shalom (Saul) Orbach

The Ma’or Va-Shemesh is a classic Hasidic commentary on the weekly portions and festivals by R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein of Kraków (1751-1823). A foremost later disciple, and for years the Shamash, of R. Elimelech of Lizhensk, he emerged after his rebbe’s passing as a leading figure in the fourth generation of Chassidut and of Polish Hasidism. His Torah blends close reading of the Psukim with mystical depth, emphasizing Dvekut, heartfelt prayer, joy, and sanctifying the everyday, with a hallmark leadership ethic: the tzaddik sweetens judgment into mercy and draws people close.

In this week’s parsha and accompanying pieces, the Ma’or VaShemesh teaches that Shabbat HaGadol is part of a deeper process of preparation for redemption.

Chazal teach that if Israel would keep two Shabbatot, they would be redeemed immediately.

The Ma’or VaShemesh connects this to the two Shabbatot before Pesach.

Not just a span of time, but two distinct processes:
one that changes what we do,
and one that changes how we think.

And only when both align can real change begin, and redemption can occur.

 

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Use these source sheets, for Parshat Tzav, Shabbat HaGadol, and the Haggadah, complete with footnoted sources and a concise, footnoted bio of R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein (Ma’or Va-Shemesh) to enjoy continued learning at your own pace.

Prepared by Rabbi Shalom (Saul) Orbach

The Ma’or Va-Shemesh is a classic Hasidic commentary on the weekly portions and festivals by R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein of Kraków (1751-1823). A foremost later disciple, and for years the Shamash, of R. Elimelech of Lizhensk, he emerged after his rebbe’s passing as a leading figure in the fourth generation of Chassidut and of Polish Hasidism. His Torah blends close reading of the Psukim with mystical depth, emphasizing Dvekut, heartfelt prayer, joy, and sanctifying the everyday, with a hallmark leadership ethic: the tzaddik sweetens judgment into mercy and draws people close.

In this week’s parsha, the Ma’or VaShemesh highlights three subtle details that together reveal a profound spiritual principle.

The Parsha begins: “And He called to Moses.” Chazal note that every divine communication to Moses was preceded by a call. The Meor vShemesh explains that Moses consistently stood aside, believing himself unworthy of such revelation. Because he did not presume to step forward, G-d had to call him.

Immediately afterward we encounter another detail: the word “Vayikra” is written with a small aleph. This too reflects Moses’ humility. True humility is not simply declining honor while believing one deserves it. It is the deeper awareness that honor is not due at all. Because Moses truly saw himself as small, he was chosen for greatness. As the Zohar puts it: “The one who is truly small becomes great.”

Then the Torah continues: “Adam, when he brings an offering…” The Ma’or VaShemesh notes that the Torah uses the word Adam deliberately (instead of the more general Ish), alluding to Adam HaRishon, whose single act affected the entire world. From here comes a striking teaching: every person must see himself as capable of tipping the balance of the entire world through his actions.

Taken together, these ideas create a powerful paradox: A person must see himself as small before G-d, yet at the same time recognize that his choices carry immense responsibility.  Avodat Hashem requires us to live with this paradox: to see ourselves as small before G-d, yet to know that our choices can tip the balance of the entire world.

 

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Use this source sheet, complete with footnoted sources and a concise, footnoted bio of R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein (Ma’or Va-Shemesh) to enjoy this teaching at your own pace, perfect for self-learners.

Prepared by Rabbi Shalom (Saul) Orbach

The Ma’or Va-Shemesh is a classic Hasidic commentary on the weekly portions and festivals by R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein of Kraków (1751-1823). A foremost later disciple, and for years the Shamash, of R. Elimelech of Lizhensk, he emerged after his rebbe’s passing as a leading figure in the fourth generation of Chassidut and of Polish Hasidism. His Torah blends close reading of the Psukim with mystical depth, emphasizing Dvekut, heartfelt prayer, joy, and sanctifying the everyday, with a hallmark leadership ethic: the tzaddik sweetens judgment into mercy and draws people close.

Vayakhel:

The Ma’or VaShemesh on Vayakhel teaches that when Bnei Yisrael brought materials for the Mishkan, they did not simply give. They verbally designated their gifts for the sake of the Mishkan and the dwelling of the Shechinah. Through that designation, Kedusha from above was drawn down into the materials themselves, allowing the Mishkan to become a vessel for the Divine Presence.

From here he draws a broader lesson. Speech can elevate action. When a person says and intends that his work is for the sake of Shabbat, Tzedaka, or Avodat HaShem, that intention brings Kedusha into the act and draws blessing into life.

The world is not sanctified with Kedusha only through great sacred structures.

The sanctification of the world often begins with the words we attach to our everyday actions.

Pikudei:

In Parashat Pekudei, the Ma’or VaShemesh asks a powerful question about the opening verse  “אלה פקודי המשכן משכן העדות.”

What exactly is the edut, the “testimony,” of the Mishkan?

The Midrash teaches that when the Mishkan was completed there was something left over, as the Torah itself says: “והמלאכה היתה דים… והותר” — “the work was sufficient… and there was extra.”   Moshe asked what should be done with the ‘extra’.

The conventional understanding is that this refers to the materials or money that had been donated.  But the Ma’or VaShemesh offers a deeper understanding. The true “extra” was not the donations themselves, but the Kedusha created by the love, awe, and devotion with which the people brought their gifts.

That surplus Kedusha, he explains, was placed by Moshe into the Torah’s own account of the Mishkan. The Torah itself became the Mishkan HaEdut, preserving that sanctity as a testimony for future generations.

When these passages are studied with sincerity and devotion, something of that original kedusha can still be awakened.  The Mishkan was built once in the desert.  But its kedusha was preserved in the Torah for every generation to rediscover.

 

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Use this source sheet for Vayakhel and this source sheet for Pekudei, complete with footnoted sources and a concise, footnoted bio of R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein (Ma’or Va-Shemesh) to enjoy this teaching at your own pace, perfect for self-learners.

Prepared by Rabbi Shalom (Saul) Orbach

The Ma’or Va-Shemesh is a classic Hasidic commentary on the weekly portions and festivals by R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein of Kraków (1751-1823). A foremost later disciple, and for years the Shamash, of R. Elimelech of Lizhensk, he emerged after his rebbe’s passing as a leading figure in the fourth generation of Chassidut and of Polish Hasidism. His Torah blends close reading of the Psukim with mystical depth, emphasizing Dvekut, heartfelt prayer, joy, and sanctifying the everyday, with a hallmark leadership ethic: the tzaddik sweetens judgment into mercy and draws people close.

In this week’s parashah, the Ma’or VaShemesh offers a profound chiddush in understanding the sin of the Golden Calf.

The episode was not simply a collapse into rebellion. Rather, it was a tragic miscalculation in the pursuit of יראת הרוממות, awe of the Divine.

When the Torah says “כי בושש משה,” the people felt they had lost the living conduit through which they could attain יראת הרוממות, awe of the Divine. True fear of God cannot usually be seized directly. It is cultivated through reverence for a tzaddik, which serves as the conduit that leads a person toward that higher awareness. While Moshe stood among them, he served as that conduit.

When he delayed returning, and the people believed he would not return, that conduit was lost.

Deprived of Moshe, the people sought another way to recreate that experience. Their request to Aaron, “עשה לנו אלהים,” which the Targum renders “עבד לנא דחלין,” meaning “make for us something we will fear,” was an attempt to generate awe through some other means, some other conduit, not to serve another god.

Their failure was not theological betrayal but a tragic mistake in the path they chose to reach the Divine. They confused יראה חיצונית, external fear, with authentic awe that leads to awareness of God. Even the Torah’s description of them as “עם קשה עורף” becomes reframed. They remained stubborn in their longing to reach God, though tragically misguided in how they tried to do so.

Moshe’s plea, “ועתה אם תשא חטאתם,” reflects the possibility that repentance can transform even grave failure, reinterpreting the sin as error rather than rebellion.

The final proof of authentic awe appears in Moshe himself.

The verse “קרן עור פניו” is not merely poetic radiance. The Ma’or VaShemesh explains that when a person sanctifies himself completely, the Divine presence rests upon him so powerfully that it becomes visible. Before Israel, that light radiates and inspires awe. Before the Shechinah, however, it dissolves like a candle before a torch.

The episode therefore unfolds in three movements: the search for יראת הרוממות, the search for that awe through the wrong conduit, and finally the example of Moshe himself, whose holiness reflects the Divine presence.

True יראת הרוממות cannot be manufactured. It must be cultivated through the proper conduit that leads a person toward awareness of the Divine.

 

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Use this source sheet, complete with footnoted sources and a concise, footnoted bio of R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein (Ma’or Va-Shemesh) to enjoy this teaching at your own pace, perfect for self-learners.

Prepared by Rabbi Shalom (Saul) Orbach

The Ma’or Va-Shemesh is a classic Hasidic commentary on the weekly portions and festivals by R. Kalonymus Kalman Epstein of Kraków (1751-1823). A foremost later disciple, and for years the Shamash, of R. Elimelech of Lizhensk, he emerged after his rebbe’s passing as a leading figure in the fourth generation of Chassidut and of Polish Hasidism. His Torah blends close reading of the Psukim with mystical depth, emphasizing Dvekut, heartfelt prayer, joy, and sanctifying the everyday, with a hallmark leadership ethic: the tzaddik sweetens judgment into mercy and draws people close.