All right, we’ll begin today’s Torah and Tea class on Parshas Beshalach. It is also the day after Yud Shevat, the tenth of Shevat.
Yesterday, I was at the cemetery, at the Ohel, by the Rebbe’s gravesite. I went very early in the morning—around six o’clock. We had originally planned to leave at 6:30, but after doing the preparations, we arrived there around seven. At that hour it was still relatively empty, and we were able to go in calmly, daven, and say all the tefillos without pressure. It was very special.
Later, my boys told me that they waited close to four hours just to get into line. It was so packed that many people couldn’t even get in. I was very grateful that I went early and was able to accomplish everything.
The weather there was actually very pleasant. Inside they have some heaters, and overall it felt quite mild—probably in the mid-40s. For February, that’s very nice.
Before going to a place like the Ohel, it’s important to know what to ask for. Many people come to pray by the resting place of a tzaddik, asking Hashem for blessings. But we also have to prepare ourselves properly.
The Rebbe teaches that the blessing of a tzaddik is like rain. Rain comes from Heaven, but if the ground is hard and unplowed, the water just runs off. It doesn’t nourish anything. In order for rain to help, the ground needs to be prepared so it can absorb the water.
The same is true with blessings. Blessings are given, but we must prepare ourselves to receive them. That’s why it’s customary to learn Torah before going to the Ohel—to soften ourselves, to make ourselves vessels that can absorb the blessing.
What to Ask For
In one of the talks we learned, the Rebbe explains that many people think they have a lot, but in truth they have very little. And sometimes people who seem to have very little actually have a lot.
The Rebbe brings an idea from the Zohar using the letter Yud, the smallest letter in the Hebrew alphabet. It’s tiny, yet it carries enormous meaning. The message is that when a person makes themselves small—humble, subjugated to Hashem—they become a vessel for great blessings.
A cup that is full cannot receive anything more. But an empty cup can be filled. If a person is full of themselves, where can Hashem’s blessing rest? Humility creates space for blessing.
On the other hand, there are people who run endlessly after material success. They may have money, possessions, and opportunities, but they lack peace of mind. They are tense, impatient, angry, and unhappy. They may “have a lot,” but in reality they have very little.
True wealth is not material abundance. True wealth is peace of mind, happiness, meaning, and connection to Hashem. When we pray—whether directly to Hashem or asking a tzaddik to intercede—we must be careful to ask for what truly matters: health, simcha, shalom bayis, and success with blessing. Not just more things.
Trust at the Sea
Parshas Beshalach teaches us about emunah and bitachon. The Jewish people were trapped: the Egyptians behind them, the sea in front of them. There was no escape route. No Plan B.
Many of us experience moments like this in life—financially, emotionally, or in relationships—when we feel completely stuck. We try different approaches, but sometimes there is simply no solution we can see.
At the sea, Moshe cried out to Hashem. Hashem’s response was:
“Daber el Bnei Yisrael veyisa’u” — tell the Jewish people to move forward.
What appeared to be an impassable obstacle opened up. The sea split. Something no one could have imagined became the path forward.
This is the power of bitachon. When a person stops relying solely on their own cleverness and says, “Hashem, I can’t figure this out—but I trust You,” that trust itself creates the opening.
We may not always see open miracles like the splitting of the sea, but the message remains: trust creates pathways where none seem to exist.
The Song of the Women
Later in the parsha, we see that both the men and the women sang after the splitting of the sea. But there is a difference.
The men sang with their voices alone. The women, led by Miriam, sang with drums and dancing—“b’tupim u’vimcholos.”
The Rebbe explains that the women suffered more deeply in Egypt. The pain of exile touched them more profoundly. When redemption came, their joy was greater, fuller, and more expressive.
That is why the Haftorah of this week is the Song of Devorah, a woman’s song. Women carry a unique strength of emunah, and it was in their merit that the Jewish people were redeemed.
Bitter Waters
Soon after, the Jewish people encountered bitter water in the desert. The Torah tells us that Moshe threw a piece of wood into the water, and it became sweet.
There are differing opinions about what kind of wood it was—sweet or bitter—and the Rebbe explains that this teaches us three approaches to dealing with bitterness in life:
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Dilution – adding more good so the bitterness feels smaller.
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Overpowering – introducing something very strong and positive that overwhelms the negativity.
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Transformation – discovering the good hidden within the bitterness itself.
The deepest level is transformation: realizing that what once felt bitter can itself become a source of sweetness and growth.
Bread from Heaven
Later, when the people lacked food, Hashem gave them the manna, bread from Heaven. They made the blessing not “Hamotzi lechem min ha’aretz” but “Hamotzi lechem min hashamayim.”
This was a lesson that sustenance comes from Hashem. Even later, when we work the land and earn a living through natural means, the blessing itself is still from Him. Our efforts are only vessels.
When a person understands this, they act honestly and ethically, knowing that cheating or cutting corners does not bring blessing—Hashem does.
Amalek: Doubt and Cooling Off
At the end of the parsha, Amalek attacks. Rashi explains that Amalek is like someone who jumps into a boiling bath, gets burned, but cools it off for everyone else.
Amalek introduces doubt. In fact, the numerical value of Amalek is the same as safek—doubt.
After miracles, excitement, and inspiration, Amalek creeps in and says:
“Maybe it wasn’t really a miracle. Maybe it was coincidence.”
This is true in our lives as well. After moments of clarity and connection, doubt tries to cool us off. The Torah warns us: remember Amalek, recognize doubt for what it is, and erase it.
The Strength of Women Today
The Rebbe often emphasized that women continue to carry this emunah. Even today, women hold fast to faith and action.
I see this personally. My sister in Pittsburgh—well into her 80s—goes out every day distributing cards about the Seven Noahide Laws to non-Jews. Every single day. That is emunah in action.
When Moshiach comes, it will be the women who bring the drums again—tupim u’vimcholos—because they never let go of their faith.
Closing
We draw strength from the previous Rebbe and from the Rebbe. Even though they are no longer physically present, faithful shepherds never abandon their flock. They continue to guide, strengthen, and inspire us.
May we soon merit the ultimate redemption. May we sing the Song of the Sea again, receive the inner Torah in its fullness, rebuild the Beis Hamikdash, and experience the coming of Moshiach—bimheira v’yameinu. Amen.