1. This Shabbos follows the seventh of MarCheshvan, the day when the last Jew returned home from the pilgrimage to the Bais Hamikdosh on Yom Tov. The furthest point from Yerushalayim was the P’ros River, and it took until the seventh of MarCheshvan to reach there. So that this Jew could reach his home without being hampered by rain, Jews did not ask for rain to come until the seventh of MarCheshvan — although “it would have been fitting to ask for rain immediately after the festival (of Sukkos)” (Ta’anis 10a, Shulchan Aruch Admor HaZoken, Orach Chayim, ch. 117).

The period of time until the seventh of MarCheshvan is thus a continuation of the concept of Sukkos. The Shach explains that if the date on a contract is “after the festival,” it means the 15th day after the festival — the seventh of MarCheshvan — for “every time Israel would go on pilgrimage for the festival, they could only reach their homes after the festival within fifteen days; and as long as they had not crossed over the P’ros River, it seemed to them as if they were still in Eretz Yisroel engaged in the festival’s matters.” From the seventh of MarCheshvan on, a new type of service began — the service of “Ya’akov went on his way.”

The seventh of MarCheshvan, then, is the boundary line between two seasons. To which season does the day itself belong to? (This question applies to all boundaries — e.g., in space, does a boundary line belong to the area it encloses or to the outside area?) From our above analysis, we conclude that the seventh of MarCheshvan is the beginning of and belongs to the new season, the service of which is “Ya’akov went on his way.” For since rain is requested on the seventh, it follows that the last Jew reached his home already on the sixth — for if not, how could rain be requested?; the rain would hinder his journey. Thus he must have already reached his home on the seventh, and the last day of his journey was the sixth.

The above sheds light on a passage in the Zohar which states (Shemos, Tosfos, p. 275a) “From Elul until the sixth of MarCheshvan ... are days of letters.” These days are specially auspicious for success in matters associated with letters of Torah, etc. Now, if the seventh of MarCheshvan is special, why does the Zohar say that this period is until the sixth of MarCheshvan? However, as explained previously, the seventh of MarCheshvan is the start of a new season, whereas the season of Tishrei extends until the sixth of MarCheshvan.

This idea, that this period is one of “days of letters,” is peculiarly associated with the month of Elul (and not just an extension of Tishrei). And this is why the Zohar emphasizes “From Elul until the sixth of MarCheshvan,” and does not mention Tishrei. What is special about Elul? The Alter Rebbe (Likkutei Torah, parshas Re’ey 32b) brings a parable “to a king, whom, before he comes to the city, the inhabitants of the city go out to greet him and receive him in the field.” That is, in Elul, G-d, the King, is in the field, easily accessible to all.

The Zohar alludes to this by calling this period “days of letters.” “Letters” in Aramaic is “Asvon,” which is cognate to the word “asa” in the phrase “asa boker — the morning comes.” It refers to the idea of bringing something from its true place to another place. (Just as letters bring a person’s thoughts — which belong in the brain — to the “outside.”)

This is the idea of “the king in the field.”

The king’s true place is in his palace in the capital city. When he is in the field, he has gone out from his true place — the same concept as letters, “asa boker.”

We can go further and posit that this concept of the “king in the field” is present also in the month of MarCheshvan (until the sixth). Thus the common theme of all these days (“from Elul until the sixth of MarCheshvan”) is that the king is in the field (“days of letters”).

The most startling part of this idea is that it applies also to the days after Rosh Chodesh MarCheshvan whereas it is more easily understood in regard to the days of Tishrei itself, including the latter part of the month. The king in the field in Elul is the concept of the revelation of the Thirteen Attributes of Mercy. Now, the revelation of these attributes is in a much loftier fashion on Yom Kippur than in Elul, for then, the King is actually in His palace. A result of this is that the revelation of G-dliness (of the “King”) extends until the end of Tishrei, for, as we see, we do not say tachnun from Erev Yom Kippur until the end of Tishrei. Thus the revelation of the King in Elul extends also to the end of Tishrei. After Rosh Chodesh MarCheshvan, however, we do say tachnun (since the effect of Yom Kippur has ended) — and thus, to say that the revelation of the King (the concept of Elul) is present even in these days, is a novel idea.

To sum up: Both the sixth and seventh of MarCheshvan possess distinction. The sixth of MarCheshvan is the conclusion of the season of Tishrei; more particularly, it is an extension of, and shares a common theme with, the month of Elul. The seventh of MarCheshvan is the start of a new season, the service of which is “Ya’akov went on his way.”

2. The service of “Ya’akov went on his way” comprises various steps, and is, in general, service to G-d in mundane pursuits compared to the service of Tishrei, which is service associated with festivals. The first step in this service is on Motzoei Yom Kippur, when we begin to engage in the preparations to Sukkos, Sukkah and the four kinds — fulfillment of mitzvos. Yom Kippur, in contrast, is the service of Torah, for on it, the latter set of tablets were given. The difference between Torah and mitzvos is great, for Torah is the words of G-d. and “Are not My words as fire?’! Mitzvos, in contrast, are enclothed in physical objects. Thus service of mitzvos, compared to Torah study, is considered as the service of “Ya’akov went on his way.”

A second and lower step is on Motzoei Simchas Torah, the conclusion of the festivals of Tishrei. At this point, the service of “Ya’akov went on his way” in mundane pursuits begins. That is, on Motzoei Yom Kippur, the going on one’s “way” is in relation to mitzvos (compared to Torah). The going on one’s “way” on Motzoei Simchas Torah is in relation to actual mundane matters (compared to holy matters: the festivals etc.).

Yet a lower step is after the month of Tishrei, for until then, we still do not say tachnun, even after Simchas Torah. It is a period still connected to Tishrei, and thus, the transition from Tishrei to MarCheshvan (when tachnun is said), is yet a lower step in the service of “Ya’akov went on his way.”

In MarCheshvan itself, the period until the seventh of MarCheshvan is still somewhat connected to Tishrei, for until then “it seemed to them as if they were still in Eretz Yisroel engaged in the festival’s matters.” The seventh of MarCheshvan therefore marks the beginning of the last, and lowest, step in the service of “Ya’akov went on his way.”

Because this service of “Ya’akov went on his way” is in actual mundane pursuits — and not the performance of mitzvos compared to Torah study (as on Motzoei Yom Kippur) — it is the lowest level. Nevertheless, since descent is for the purpose of ascent, it follows that the greater the descent, the greater the greater will be the corresponding ascent. Thus, through the service of “Ya’akov went on his way, it a Jew reaches the ultimate heights.

This is the greatness of the seventh of MarCheshvan. Because it begins the lowest step (which leads to the ultimate heights) of the service of “Ya’akov went on his way,” it has two special features:

1) It is the initial break-through of this type of service for the entire year.

2) Because it is the initial break-through for the whole year, it encompasses all the particulars of the year’s service.

The greatness of the seventh of MarCheshvan leads to an understanding of the greatness of this Shabbos which follows it. On Shabbos, all matters of the previous week are elevated, to the degree of delight — the highest level. Thus all the great concepts of the seventh of MarCheshvan are elevated yet higher on the following Shabbos. Moreover, the matters of the sixth of MarCheshvan (the conclusion of the season of Tishrei) are also elevated on this Shabbos to the level of delight.

In addition to this greatness of the Shabbos which follows the seventh of MarCheshvan — which is present every year — special distinction accrues when Shabbos immediately follows the seventh of MarCheshvan, without any intervening weekdays, as this year. Immediately after the start of the service of “Ya’akov went on his way,” it is elevated to the level of delight.

Moreover, when the seventh of MarCheshvan is on Friday, it has the distinction of “G-d saw all that He had done, and it was very good.” On all the other days of creation it states “G-d saw it was good.” [On Tuesday, “it was good” was said twice, once for Tuesday, and once for Monday, when “it was good” was not said]. “Very (good)” refers to something which transcends all limits — even the limits of “G-d saw that it was good.” This applies not just to the works created on Friday, but to all the six days of creation, as stated “G-d saw all that He had done and it was very good.”

The greatness of the first Friday is repeated every week, particularly when Friday has special distinction — for example, this year it has the greatness of the seventh of MarCheshvan. In such a case, the idea of “G-d saw all that He had done and it was very good” certainly applies, including that “it was very good” in relation to the previous day, the sixth of MarCheshvan.

Indeed, when the seventh of MarCheshvan is a Friday, as this year, that Friday is unique compared to all other Fridays. Of the creation in general it states “which G-d created to function;” and “to function” indicates that man’s service is necessary to bring the creation to its fullness. When the seventh of MarCheshvan is on Friday, the idea of “to function” is already present, for the seventh of MarCheshvan is the start of man’s service for the entire year.

3. In addition to the above, there is another matter associated with this week’s parshah, Lech Lecha. “Lech Lecha,” which means “Go,” emphasizes its association with the idea of “Ya’akov went on his way,” both referring to the idea of movement. The coincidence of the ideas of “Ya’akov went on his way” with “Lech Lecha” on the same Shabbos together with the fact that something in Torah is a lesson for every Jew — teaches that the service of “Ya’akov went on his way” much be performed in the manner of “Lech Lecha.” Avraham was told to “Go from your land, your birthplace, and from your father’s house.” Chassidus explains that “your land” corresponds to a person’s will, “your birthplace” to one’s natural character traits, and “your father’s house” to one’s intellect. The command “Go from your land, your birth place and your father’s house” means a person should leave his will, his natural inclinations and traits, in order to fulfill G-d’s will.

4. Chapter 17, verse 5 of parshas Lech Lecha states: “Your name shall no more be called Avram, but your name shall be Avraham, for I have made you for a father (“av”) of a multitude (“hamon”) of nations.” Rashi, on the words “a father of a multitude of nations,” comments: “This is an acrostic of his name (Av (father) & ham(on) (multitude) = Av(ra)ham]. And the letter ‘reish’ which was in it from the beginning [Avram], when he was a father only of Aram which was his place [Av (father) & Aram (name of Avraham’s residence) = Avram], even now, when he became father of the whole world [Av & ham], nevertheless, [the freish’] did not move from its place [i.e. although apparently not belonging, for Av & ham = Avham, not Avraham]. For even the letter ‘yud’ of Sarai [the original name of Sarah, Avraham’s wife], complained against the Divine Presence [when it was removed from Sarah’s name upon the change from Sarai to Sarah (Bereishis 17:15)] until it [the letter ‘yud’] was added to Yehoshua, as stated ‘And Moshe called Hoshea bin Nun, Yehoshua.’”

There are some puzzling aspects to Rashi’s comment:

1) Why need Rashi bring a proof from the fact that the “yud” of Sarai had complaints against the Divine Presence, when it is self-evident that if a letter is removed from a tzaddik’s name, that letter will complain?

2) Rashi writes that “for even the letter “yud” “yud” of Sarai complained.” This seems to indicate that the letter “yud” really had no grounds for complaint — and therefore, since even it did complain, the letter “reish” of Avram certainly would have grounds to complain if removed from Avraham’s name. Why should there be a difference between the “yud” of Sarai and the “reish” of Avram, and to the extent that Rashi writes “even” in regards to the “yud?”

3) Rashi brings the “yud” from Sarai as proof why the “reish” from Avram remained in the name. Yet this seems to be a proof for the opposite view, for in fact, the “yud” of Sarai was removed. Instead, it was added to the name of another tzaddik, Yehoshua. But this itself was only after many years, and in two different eras: the “yud” was taken from Sarai before the exile in Egypt; and it was added to Yehoshua at the time the Jews entered Eretz Yisroel. Until then, the letter “yud” remained with complaints against the Divine Presence. How, then, can Rashi bring this as proof in regard to the “reish” of Avram?

4) Rashi states that the “letter ‘reish’ which was in it from the beginning, when he was a father only of Aram which was his place.” That is, Rashi explains why he was formerly called Avram. However, our verse talks only of the reason why he was now called “Avraham.” Why does Rashi explain the reason for previously being called “Avram?” And if there is reason to explain it, Rashi should have done so when we first came across the name “Avram,” and not wait until we learn of the change to “Avraham.”

The Explanation

There is no reason to explain why he was called Avram the first time we come across this name, for in the plain interpretation of Scripture, it is unnecessary to explain the reasons for all the names in Scripture! Thus we do not find Rashi doing so, even in the case of the names of tzaddikim, unless there is a special reason for it.

When, however, we come to the verse “Your name shall no more be called Avram, but your name shall be Avraham,” we see that Scripture itself continues to give a reason for the change — “for I have made you for a father of a multitude of nations.” Rashi is now forced to explain the connection of being “a father of a multitude of nations” to the name “Avraham” — that it is “an acrostic of his name: “Av” (father) & “Hamon” (multitude) = “Avraham.” Although acrostics are not normally part of the plain interpretation, in this case Rashi must use it, for Scripture itself says that the fact Avraham is “a father of a multitude of nations” is the reason for his name — and Rashi therefore must explain the connection between the two.

Once we know that “Avraham” is one of the names which have a reason behind them — in the plain interpretation of Scripture — we must also find a reason for the name “Avram,” since this name (Avraham and Avram = same person) does have an explanation. Rashi therefore says “The letter reish which was in it from the beginning (Avram), when he was a father only of Aram which was his place [Av (father) & Aram (Avram’s residence) = Avram], even now, when he became father of the whole world, nevertheless, [the ‘reish’] did not move from its place.” In other words, “Avram” means “Av” (father) of “Aram.” He was father of Aram specifically, for since it was his place, his influence was naturally exerted there first. But “now, when he became father of the whole world” his influence extended also to outside — there is no reason to differentiate between Aram and any other place.

But then a question arises: Since he was now “father of a multitude of nations,” he should have been called “Avham [Av (father) & hamon (multitude)] and not “Avraham.” The “reish” seems to be extra, for if he is “father of the whole world,” he is certainly also “father of Aram.”

In answer to this question, Rashi says that lithe ‘reish,’ which was in it from the beginning ... nevertheless, did not move from its place.” Note that Rashi does not say that the “reish” was not deleted, but rather “did not move.” Rashi is thereby telling us that not only does the “reish” remain in the name — meaning, that even after becoming “father of a multitude of nations” he still remained “father of Aram” — but even more, that it “did not move from its place:” that it stayed in the name “Avraham” as before, and did not move, although the idea behind the “reish” (that he was “father of Aram”) is encompassed in the fact that he was now father of the whole world.

But all is still not clear: In the end analysis, the “reish” is nevertheless extra, for the idea behind it (“father of Aram”) is encompassed by the letter “hey” (Avraham) father of a multitude of nations. Why was it left in Avraham’s name? In answer, Rashi brings proof from the letter “yud” from the name “Sarai” — that “even the letter ‘yud’ of Sarai complained against the Divine Presence.”

What is the proof? Scripture states (Bereishis 17:15) that “You shall not call her name Sarai, but Sarah is her name.” Rashi comments on this that “‘Sarai’ denotes ‘my princess’ — for me, but not for others. Her name will (now) be Sarah unqualified (without the suffix) — for she will be a princess over all.” Seemingly, after she became “princess over all,” she still remained “my princess” — just as with Avraham, he still remained “father of Aram” after becoming “father of the whole world.” However, this does not really hold true. Because Avraham was so great, it is possible that Sarah was princess over everyone except Avraham. This is particularly so since we will later learn that Avraham was greater then Sarah — both in age, and in qualities, as Rashi notes (17:17) that “Avraham believed [in the promise that he would have a son] and rejoiced, but Sarah did not believe and sneered.” Because Avraham was greater than Sarah, it is very possible that whereas Sarah was princess over the whole world, she was not over Avraham. And although previously she was called “Sarai — my princess,” “my” referring to Avraham — nevertheless, we learn in these verses that Avraham had risen greatly in quality — “the L-rd appeared to Avram and said to him: I am G-d Al-mighty; walk before Me, and be whole ... I will give My covenant between Me and you Your name shall be Avraham ... for I have made you for a father of a multitude of nations.” Thus, now, Sarah could not be a princess to Avraham, but only to the whole world.

Because once she became “Sarah” she was no longer “My princess,” it follows that it was now impossible to call her “Sarai” (i.e. to let the “yud” remain in the name — for it was simply not true that she was “my princess,” but only “princess for all.”) Therefore, the letter “yud” really had no valid claim to remain in the name.

The letter “reish,” on the other hand, did have valid justification for remaining in Avraham’s name, for the idea behind it still remained in force — that even after becoming “father of a multitude of nations” Avraham still remained “father of Aram.” (Unlike the idea behind the “yud,” which became abolished after the name “Sarai” was changed to “Sarah” — for she was no longer “my princess]. The only problem remaining is why the “reish” has to remain in its place (“Avraham”), when the idea behind it is encompassed in the letter “hey” (“Av Hamon — father of a multitude of nations”).

Rashi therefore explains that we find that “even the letter ‘yud’ of Sarai complained against the Divine Presence.” Although the ‘yud’ had no legitimate claim to remain in the name, G-d nevertheless listened to its complaints and added it to the name Hoshea. Certainly, then, the complaint of the letter “reish” of Avram, which was a legitimate one — for its meaning remained in force (although encompassed in the letter “hey”) — should be reckoned with. Rashi by writing that “even the ‘yud’ of Sarai complained,” thereby answers the question raised previously that the proof from the letter “yud” seems to work to the opposite effect.

There is a lesson from Rashi’s interpretation for man’s service to G-d. Everything pertaining to our forefathers is bestowed as a heritage on their descendants in every generation, to every Jew. In our case, the commandment of circumcision (which was the cause for the extra “hey” being added to Avraham’s name) applies to all Jews, including women, for “a woman is as one who is circumcised.” Moreover, a Jew is considered among those who are circumcised because of the very essence of his being — although he has not been physically circumcised. The Mishnah (Nedarim 31b) states: “One who vows that ‘I will not benefit from the uncircumcised,’ he may benefit from uncircumcised Jews ... [If he vows that] ‘I will not benefit from the circumcised, he is forbidden to benefit from uncircumcised Jews ...” The reason for these laws is that all Jews (even those who are physically uncircumcised) are, in essence, circumcised.

It follows that just as Avraham achieved the status of “father of a multitude of nations” through circumcision, so all Jews possess this concept. Their task is to bring these hidden powers into a revealed state, from potential into actuality. It is not enough that a Jew is a “father” of his place (as Avraham was “father of Aram” before circumcision) — meaning, he influences those in his immediate surroundings — but he must be a “father to all the world,” meaning he influences the entire world.