We’ll begin Torah and Tea this week with Parshat Beshalach. We are also just one day away from Tu B’Shevat. In addition, tonight is the yahrtzeit of my mother-in-law, Feige Tzippa bas Yeshuah Chana, and we are dedicating tonight’s class in her memory.
She had many accomplishments beyond surviving World War II. To maintain Yiddishkeit under those conditions—and to continue living it afterward—is something truly praiseworthy. When she came to the United States, in addition to raising her own family and ensuring they received a strong Chassidish-Lubavitch education, she became deeply involved in the work encouraged by the Rebbe.
At that time, much of this work focused on Russian Jews. Many arrived in America uncircumcised, and there was a major effort to help them enter fully into Jewish life through bris milah. My mother-in-law was involved in all the details of this effort. Through her dedication, hundreds and hundreds of Russian Jews were able to reconnect with their Yiddishkeit and formally join the Jewish people. This was only part of her impact.
We dedicate today’s class to her memory. May her memory be for a blessing, and may she be a gute beter for the entire mishpacha—for health, success, happiness, and the fulfillment of all our hearts’ desires.
This dedication also connects naturally to Tu B’Shevat, the Rosh Hashanah for trees. We have a special connection to trees, as the pasuk says: “Ki ha’adam etz hasadeh”—a person is like the tree of the field. Some trees do not bear fruit; they symbolize people who live only for themselves. But Tu B’Shevat celebrates fruit-bearing trees—trees that produce, nourish, and benefit others.
A tree provides fruit, shade, and sustenance. Likewise, a person should produce good deeds, influence others positively, and contribute meaningfully beyond themselves.
The Gemara tells a story of two Rabbis who met, one returning from a long journey. Before parting, one wished to bless the other. The second asked, “What can you bless me with? I already have what I need.” The first responded with a parable:
A traveler, exhausted from the heat, finds a beautiful fruit tree. He eats its fruit, drinks from the stream flowing beneath it, rests in its shade, and regains his strength. When he awakes, he says, “What can I bless you with? You already have fruit, shade, and water. So I bless you that all trees planted from your seeds should be just like you.”
So too, the Rabbi said, “May your children and students follow in your path and reflect your greatness.”
My mother-in-law once shared with me what it meant to observe mitzvos under the harsh conditions she endured. She said we cannot imagine the level of self-sacrifice required—how difficult it was to make a bracha, to keep Shabbat, or to observe mitzvos at all. It often felt almost impossible, yet people did it.
The Rebbe writes in a maamar that even in our times, when distractions and challenges pull us away, choosing to step into a Torah class, come to shul, do a mitzvah, or recite the Shema is a form of self-sacrifice. While our challenges may be different, choosing Torah over distraction still requires effort. Those earlier generations faced far greater danger and hardship, yet their commitment never wavered. May her memory indeed be for a blessing.
Turning now to Parshat Beshalach: one area where Chabad practice differs from others relates to the three Shabbat meals. The obligation to eat three meals on Shabbat is learned from this week’s parsha in connection with the manna. The Torah uses the word “hayom”—“today”—three times:
“Eat it today, for today is a Shabbat to Hashem; today you will not find it in the field.”
These three mentions correspond to the three Shabbat meals.
The Shulchan Aruch records opinions that the third meal does not require bread—some say mezonos, others fruit. However, the Alter Rebbe rules clearly that one should wash and eat bread to properly fulfill the mitzvah, and this is the common practice in most communities.
Yet in Chabad, the Rebbes did not eat a full bread meal for Seudah Shlishit, instead fulfilling the obligation with tasting something. This raises an obvious question: how does this align with the Alter Rebbe’s ruling?
The answer lies in the nature of Seudah Shlishit. According to Kabbalah, this time—known as Ra’ava d’Ra’avin—is spiritually elevated, resembling the future era when there will be no eating or drinking. However, the Rebbe emphasizes that we do not have two separate Torahs; halacha and Kabbalah must align.
The Rebbe explains that the mitzvah of eating on Shabbat is not simply to eat, but to experience oneg—pleasure. If eating causes pain or distress, halacha itself exempts a person. For a Rebbe or tzaddik, who deeply senses the holiness of this time, eating can actually be painful rather than pleasurable. In such a case, they are exempt from a full meal.
Still, the Rebbe explains why something is tasted. Rabbi Yose said, “May my portion be with those who eat the third meal.” Even in the future, the soul will exist within a body. We therefore give the body a small share, maintaining the connection between physical and spiritual.
Finally, at the end of Beshalach, we read about the war with Amalek. Moshe instructs Yehoshua to fight while he prays. When Moshe’s hands are raised, the Jewish people prevail; when they drop, they falter. Rashi explains that Moshe’s hands became heavy because he was “lazy” in the mitzvah—he did not go himself.
This is difficult to understand. Moshe was eighty years old, beyond military age, and believed his role was to pray. Yet the Rebbe explains that this war came as a result of the Jewish people’s failing—questioning Hashem’s presence. In such a situation, Moshe felt it should be fought naturally.
Still, the Torah teaches us that when another Jew is in danger, we do not calculate. We get involved. Even if one believes they can contribute spiritually from afar, personal involvement is required.
The lesson is clear: when a mitzvah presents itself—especially when another Jew needs help—we do not hesitate. We act.
That is the message Moshe’s heavy hands teach us: true leadership means stepping in, not standing back.