Introduction
This sicha from Likkutei Sichos, volume four, Parshas Behaaloscha, focuses on the topic of the mann—the miraculous bread from heaven that sustained the Jewish people in the desert. The Rebbe draws a distinction between two types of sustenance: mann—bread from heaven, and regular bread—bread from the earth. These two forms of sustenance serve as metaphors for two approaches to Torah: the revealed dimension (nigleh) and the inner dimension, Chassidus.
The Rebbe explains that in our generation, Chassidus must be accessible to everyone—even those who are not on the level of complete tzaddikim. One cannot withhold the teachings and inspiration of Chassidus simply because someone is not yet fully prepared or worthy. As the Rebbe will clarify later in the sicha, it is essential that these teachings reach every Jew, regardless of their current spiritual standing.
The mann was not reserved only for the righteous; rather, it was something that all Jews partook in during their journey through the desert. The Rebbe references a verse which states that the mann fell “in the camp”—meaning it descended directly into the place where each Jew resided. This detail highlights that even those who were not on an elevated spiritual level received this heavenly sustenance.
There is a discussion in Chazal regarding whether the mann fell inside or outside the camp. Some sources indicate it fell within the camp itself, while others suggest it required some effort to collect. This debate reflects deeper spiritual lessons about accessibility and effort in receiving divine sustenance.
The Rebbe cites a statement from Mechilta (on Shemos 16:4) which teaches that Torah should be sought after only by those who ate the mann. In other words, there is a connection between being sustained by heavenly bread and being able to truly engage with Torah.
Saif Aleph
The discussion begins with the idea that the Jewish people, by eating the mon (manna), were elevated to a great stature—so much so that they became worthy of receiving the Torah. The mon was not just physical sustenance; it was a preparation for the spiritual experience of accepting the Torah. Through this process, the entire nation entered into a state of readiness to receive and uphold the Torah’s teachings.
Importantly, this elevation was not limited to only the righteous individuals among them. The transformative effect of the mon extended across all categories within the 600,000 Jews. Every single person was included in this process because each individual has a unique portion and role in Torah. The giving of the Torah was not just a collective event but also deeply personal—each Jew received their own share in Torah, both in its simple meaning and in its deeper aspects.
Nevertheless, even after consuming the mon, there were still those among them who remained rishoim—wicked individuals. The mon did not immediately transform everyone into tzaddikim or cause instant repentance. This is evident from the fact that some people still had to work hard to prepare their portion of mon: they needed to grind it, cook it, and put in significant effort before eating. If they had truly repented right away, their experience with the mon would have been different—they would have received it ready to eat without such exertion.
This point is further supported by Hashem’s statement that “they tested Me ten times,” some of which occurred after they had already eaten the mon. Clearly, there were still failings and challenges even after this miraculous sustenance entered their lives. The impact of the mon was therefore not immediate or absolute; it did not fully refine every individual on the spot.
However, since receiving the mon was inherently a positive experience, it must have provided at least some subtle influence—a nudge toward improvement—even if it did not bring about complete transformation right away. Ultimately, when Hashem’s promise was fulfilled and everyone reached their destined state, this gradual process bore fruit.
Saif Beis
The Rebbe explains that the mon—the manna—had a tremendous impact on the Jewish people. Its consumption was not just about physical sustenance; it played a role in refining and transforming them spiritually. Even if this transformation did not occur immediately, the mon ultimately affected those who ate it, helping to change their ways over time.
This idea is paralleled in the study of Chassidus. Just as the mon eventually impacts a person even if its effect is not immediate, so too with Chassidus: even if its teachings do not penetrate right away, they will ultimately have an effect. The necessity of both is underscored by their ability to reach deep within and bring about inner change.
The Rebbe brings an example from what took place with the physical lechem min hashamayim—the bread from heaven—to illustrate this point. The mon’s unique quality is that despite its lofty spiritual source and greatness, it descended into this world and became accessible even at the lowest levels.
This concept is similar to Shabbos. The holiness of Shabbos is extremely elevated, originating from a very high spiritual place, yet it descends and permeates even the lowest realms with its full force. This parallel between mon and Shabbos sets up a deeper understanding of their connection.
With this background, the Rebbe introduces a halachic teaching: when someone does not know which Torah portion to read on Shabbos—such as when traveling on a distant road—the Sefer Ha’itim (in the name of Rav Saadya Gaon) instructs that one should read Parshas HaMon, the section describing the manna.
The question arises: why specifically read about the mon? Some explain that since the portion of mon was said on Shabbos or contains laws related to Shabbos (for example, Hashem told them not to collect manna on Shabbos), there is an inherent connection between Shabbos and mon.
However, the Rebbe challenges this reasoning. There are many portions in the Torah that were said on Shabbos—for instance, Matan Torah itself occurred on Shabbos, meaning that even the Ten Commandments were given then. If so, why single out Parshas HaMon for reading in such situations?
The answer lies in what was discussed earlier: although mon descended into a lowly state, it never lost its essential greatness. This quality mirrors that of Shabbos—something supremely holy that retains its essence even as it descends below. Therefore, we read Parshas HaMon on Shabbos because both share this characteristic of connecting above and below without compromising their core sanctity.
In footnote 19, the Rebbe further clarifies a distinction between mon and Shabbos. Both connect higher and lower realms: with mon, both extremes remain intact—the upper retains its advantage and the lower remains lowly—yet they are joined together. With Shabbos, however, there is an elevation of worldly existence upward; creation itself rises above during Shabbos.
This distinction also explains why manna did not fall on Shabbos. On Shabbos, since all worlds are elevated above their weekday state, there was no need for new sustenance to descend; instead, everything is uplifted along with the holiness of the day.
Saif Gimmel
The Rebbe discusses how both Shabbos and the manna share a unique quality: something from the highest spiritual level descends as it is to the lowest realm, impacting it directly. This means that the loftiest holiness does not remain removed, but rather connects with and elevates even the most mundane aspects of existence.
In the context of Shabbos, this idea is reflected in the verse describing creation’s completion: “Vayechulu hashamayim vehaaretz vechol tzeva’am.” While on a simple level this means that heaven, earth, and all their hosts were finished, the Rebbe teaches that on Shabbos, all of creation stands in a state of yearning—kiloyon, or expiration—longing to be absorbed into its divine source.
This does not mean that the world ceases to exist or loses its identity. Rather, the world as it is becomes uplifted; it is elevated through this yearning. The physical remains physical, but it is permeated with holiness and longing for Godliness.
This concept finds expression in halacha as well. On Shabbos, there is a mitzvah to delight in eating and drinking. The pleasure a Jew experiences from physical enjoyment on Shabbos itself becomes a mitzvah. It’s not just about fulfilling bodily needs—it’s about experiencing true delight and pleasure as part of serving Hashem.
During the weekdays, eating and drinking are only permitted as necessary for survival. One should avoid indulging in pleasure for its own sake during the week because physical delight can make a person more materialistic and coarse. But on Shabbos, this concern does not apply—the delight itself is sanctified and does not drag a person down into materialism.
The Rebbe cites sources from the prophets and Zohar to illustrate this distinction. On Yom Tov (festivals), there can be “leftovers”—remnants of materiality that are not fully elevated. But regarding Shabbos, scripture never mentions such leftovers because every aspect of enjoyment becomes part of the mitzvah; nothing remains outside holiness.
This raises an important question: How can physical delight on Shabbos become a mitzvah? The answer is that the light of Shabbos penetrates all levels of creation—even those usually distant from holiness—transforming them into vehicles for divine service.
Another example: The Yerushalmi teaches that even someone who is considered completely wicked will not lie on Shabbos. During the week, we might suspect such a person’s honesty regarding matters like grain tithes. But on Shabbos, we trust him—something about Shabbos compels even those farthest from holiness to act truthfully.
This does not mean that such a person has repented or changed fundamentally; he may be exactly as he was before. Yet on Shabbos itself, he cannot bring himself to lie—the sanctity of Shabbos affects even him at his core.
The food eaten on Shabbos can elevate and sustain even someone whose spiritual state is very low. This demonstrates how Shabbos connects the highest with the lowest: its sanctity reaches everyone and everything, regardless of their level.
Therefore, when we see these halachic phenomena—such as trusting even a wicked person’s word on Shabbos or experiencing pleasure as a mitzvah—we recognize that they stem from this essential quality of Shabbos: its ability to draw down holiness into every aspect of creation without exception.
Saif Daled
The Rebbe explains that the concept of Shabbos is deeply connected to Torah. The entire purpose for which the world was created is fulfilled through Torah, and specifically through the aspect of Shabbos. In order for a Jew to succeed in this world, it is essential to be permeated with the idea of Shabbos. The goal is that even the “last” or simplest Jew should be absorbed and encompassed by Shabbos, so that every Jew becomes a “great luminary” through their connection to Shabbos.
If one does not know the specific aspect of Torah that relates to Shabbos, it is still possible to see the greatness of Torah as a whole. The essential quality of Torah is that its greatness reaches even the lowest levels—it can descend and uplift even those who are furthest away. This is what Shabbos accomplishes: it draws down holiness from the highest levels all the way down to the lowest, so that everyone can be elevated.
There are specific teachings in Torah about Shabbos, but even when we do not know them in detail, we can still appreciate how Torah as a whole uplifts us. The Rebbe notes that in Section 4 (Ois Daled), he will explain how physical things in our world—like bread and land—are metaphors for two types of Torah: Nigleh—the revealed dimension—and Chassidus—the inner dimension.
Bread and land represent these two aspects: just as bread sustains physical life, so too does Nigleh sustain our spiritual life; Chassidus, like land, provides a foundation and depth. Both are necessary for a complete Jewish life. The process of questions and answers in learning Nigleh is compared to bread, while Chassidus is described as having no questions or doubts—it is simple and pure truth.
The Rebbe emphasizes that Pnimius haTorah—the inner dimension of Torah—has a unique power: it can bring someone back from spiritual death to life. When you teach another Jew Chassidus, you are bringing them back from spiritual distance or coldness into vibrant connection with Hashem.
It is not enough for only certain Jews to learn Chassidus; every Jew must be reached and brought into this light. Even if someone seems very distant or unprepared, we must work to bring them close through teaching Pnimius haTorah. This process revives their soul and brings them back to their true self.
If one tries to help another Jew only through external means—without sharing with them the inner light of Torah—not only does it fail to elevate them, but it can actually have negative consequences for oneself as well. Hashem responds measure for measure: if you hold back from helping another Jew spiritually, you may find yourself spiritually diminished.
Sometimes people question whether it is appropriate to teach Torah—especially its inner dimensions—to someone who seems unworthy or unprepared. The Rebbe addresses this concern by referencing sources that say there are times when one should not teach an unfit student. However, he clarifies that this restriction applies not only to Chassidus but also to Nigleh (the revealed part), as well as teachings found in Zohar and Kabbalah.
Yet there are exceptions—most notably when there is spiritual danger involved. The Rebbe brings the example of Yafutzu Mayonosecha Chutzah (“your wellsprings shall spread outward”), which teaches that sometimes it is necessary to share even the deepest secrets with those who need them most. He also cites the parable of the precious stone from the king’s crown: when the king’s son is in mortal danger, nothing is withheld—even what would normally be reserved for special occasions must be given in order to save him.
This principle guides us today: we must teach every Jew Chassidus without reservation. The light of Shabbos—the Moyer Sheba—will ultimately bring every Jew back to life and reconnect them with their source.
Key Points
1. The mann (manna) serves as a metaphor for the inner dimension of Torah—Chassidus—while regular bread represents the revealed dimension, Nigleh. Both forms of sustenance highlight different approaches to spiritual nourishment and Torah study.
2. The elevation brought by the mann was not exclusive to the righteous; every Jew, regardless of spiritual standing, was included. This demonstrates that each individual has a unique share in Torah, and that spiritual transformation is a gradual process rather than an instantaneous one.
3. The impact of the mann parallels the effect of Chassidus: both may not immediately transform a person, but their influence ultimately brings about inner change. The connection between Shabbos and the mann underscores how holiness can descend into and uplift even the lowest realms without losing its essential greatness.
4. Shabbos and the mann share the quality of connecting the highest spiritual levels with the lowest aspects of existence. On Shabbos, physical delight itself becomes a mitzvah, and even those distant from holiness are affected by its sanctity, illustrating how divine light permeates all levels of creation.
5. The sanctity of Shabbos is so profound that it transforms even mundane activities into vehicles for holiness. This is reflected in halachic phenomena such as trusting even a wicked person’s word on Shabbos and experiencing pleasure as part of divine service—demonstrating that nothing remains outside holiness on this day.
6. The purpose of creation is fulfilled through Torah, especially as expressed on Shabbos. Both Nigleh (revealed Torah) and Chassidus (inner Torah) are necessary for a complete Jewish life, with Chassidus uniquely able to revive those who are spiritually distant or disconnected.
7. It is essential to make Chassidus accessible to every Jew, regardless of their current level or perceived worthiness. Holding back these teachings not only fails to uplift others but can also have negative consequences for oneself; spreading Pnimius haTorah is vital for communal and personal spiritual health.
8. While there are traditional concerns about teaching deep Torah concepts to those who seem unprepared, exceptions must be made in times of spiritual danger. In our generation, sharing Chassidus widely is likened to giving life-saving medicine—nothing should be withheld when it comes to reviving Jewish souls and reconnecting them with their divine source.