TYH Nation Presents
SHUKUL SHUKUL
Brother Sochi
The Arizal teaches in Shaar HaGilgulim that in our generation, every tiny act of a Yid carries the weight of the greatest deeds from earlier generations.
When the world is darker, every spark shines brighter. So even one word of tefillah, one small mitzvah, one little step—it’s massive up there.
So let’s go! Every move matters.
Shukul! Shukul!
כי מעשה קטן מאד בדור הזה שקול כמעשה גדולות שבדרות אחרים, כי בדורות אלו הקליפה גוברת מאד לאין קץ,
משא”כ בדורות הראשונים.
Credits:
Composed by The Long Beach Bochurim
Additional writing by Sochi Majeski and Yehuda Pinsker
Produced And arranged by Izzy Drihem
Backing vocals: Yehuda Pinsker
Vocals recorded by Yehuda Pinsker
Video by Shai Barak
The Final Blow
The tzaddik R’ Uri of Strelisk was known as the Saraf – the burning one – because of his intense passion for avodas Hashem. Every mitzvah, every tefilla, every part of his avoda was with a fiery devotion for Hashem.
A poritz once passed the shul where R’ Uri was davening. Hearing the tremendous fervor in his tefilla, the poritz remained rooted to his spot, listening in awe until R’ Uri had completed his devotions. He then approached the tzaddik and said, “Listen here, Rabbi, if the Jewish people weren’t taken out of exile even with the power of your prayer, I don’t think they ever will be redeemed.”
R’ Uri responded with a well-known mashal:
A wise and powerful king had a beautiful palace with magnificent gardens all around. Right in the center of the property was a terrible eyesore – a huge, gnarled tree that had been standing there for as long as anyone could remember.
The king wished for a garden to be planted in that prominent place, and he desperately wanted the tree uprooted. Knowing that it wouldn’t be simple, he came up with a brilliant plan.
He sent a team of criers across his entire empire, and they made the grand announcement in the marketplace:
“Hear ye, hear ye! He who will succeed in cutting down the tree near the royal palace shall receive a great reward from the king’s treasury!”
At this, every able-bodied man in the kingdom rushed to the royal gardens, convinced that he would be the one to get rid of the tree and take home the prize.
Over the next few weeks, the palace grounds were mobbed with people – both those who came to try their luck with the tree as well as those who came to watch the show.
Oh, how the people tried to uproot the tree. For days and weeks they kept at it, employing all sorts of sophisticated machinery and plant poisons to get rid of it, but the stubborn tree just wouldn’t budge! One by one, they all raised their hands in defeat and advised the king to accept the unfortunate reality: the tree was there to stay.
Suddenly, a teenaged boy weaved his way out of the crowd, walked up to the king, and confidently announced,
“I will get rid of the tree in honor of my beloved king.”
All of the assembled burst into loud laughter, mocking what they called “misplaced idealism.” After all, what could a thin, lanky teenager accomplish in place of all the muscle-boasting men?
Undeterred, the boy strode over to the tree with a simple axe, gave a few vigorous blows, and the impossibly thick trunk crashed to the ground.
An awed hush fell over the crowd. What was this boy – a superman? A magician?
With an easy smile on his face, the boy explained,
“This accomplishment wasn’t really my doing. You see, people have been trying to knock down this tree for weeks, but they were all met with failure – or so they thought. In truth, their efforts had weakened the tree to the point of near-collapse, but right then, so close to success, the exhausted men conceded defeat.
I tried to get the tree down – not because I think I’m stronger than they are, but because I believed I could give the final touches on the job they had almost completed.”
“The same is with us Jews in exile,” Reb Uri concluded.
“We all try to ‘take the tree down.’ Each mitzvah is another blow at the thick trunk and another step out of galus. Although the tzaddikim have already hit the tree countless times with their awesome might, it has never been the right time for Mashiach… yet. When the right moment will come, even a ‘simple’ Jew doing an ‘ordinary’ mitzvah will be able to bring Mashiach, because the tzaddikim have invested so much of their awesome power in shattering our galus.”
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Who, Me?
While we work to improve ourselves and come close to Hashem, the yetzer hara tries to convince us that we are thoroughly incapable, and that our goals are only misplaced idealism. “After all,” he argues, “you’re just one person.”
Usually, it isn’t the world around us that stops us – it’s rather our belief in ourselves. The yetzer hara is a master at breaking our morale by making us feel small and insignificant.
I’m no more than a simple person; how will my little tefilla help?
The truth is, however, that even the most simple Jew today wields a tremendous power