Iskafya: Ploughing the inner soil

Iskafya: Ploughing the inner soil

Rabbi Yehoishophot Oliver

(For earlier articles on this topic, see here,  here, here, and here.)


(In this recent article, we discussed how tremendous effort is required to go from love for the physical to love for Hashem. This article develops that theme.)


What is Iskafya? Iskafya means that when your heart craves a material pleasure, you tell yourself “no.” You restrain yourself, and you don’t do it.


G–d forbid, there is no emotionally unhealthy, masochistic desire here to bring oneself to suffer for the sake of suffering. (If there is, such a person shouldn’t be engaging in Iskafya.) On the contrary, a Jew should serve Hashem with joy, and Chassidus rejects the approach of bringing afflictions (“siggufim”) upon oneself as an atonement for one’s sins.[1]


Rather, true Iskafya stems from a profound desire to bond with G–dliness, and the knowledge that in order to reach this goal, one must give up worldly pleasures to a significant degree.


The Torah instructs us, “All your actions should be for the sake of Heaven.”[2] This means that when a Jew engages in the material world, he shouldn’t do so in order to satisfy his physical desires, or even to provide for his basic needs and survive (although it is indeed necessary). Rather, he should do so for the sake of serving Hashem—e.g., he eats and drinks in order to have strength to study Torah and davven; he pursues a livelihood in order to provide his children with a pure Torah education, give charity to the poor, support Torah study, and so on.


Now, when one craves something physical, that means that he wants it for himself, for his own egotistical enjoyment and pleasure, and not for the sake of Hashem. And so giving into this desire will strengthen his ego, and make him that much less receptive to G–dliness. Conversely, by engaging in Iskafya and restraining oneself from indulgence, the Jew makes himself that much more receptive to G–dliness.


We can understand this from an analogy. In order for plants to grow, a farmer must plough the soil. This softens it so that the seeds deposited on the soil can germinate and grow into a plant. In contrast, a seed sown on hard soil cannot grow. The more the soil is ploughed, the softer it becomes, and the more easily the seed can take root, thrive, and produce fruit.


So, too, hidden in the heart of every Jew lies a priceless treasure: The ahavah mesuteres, a natural love for Hashem that stems from the Neshamah, which is “literally a part of Hashem above.”[3] But in most of us, it is deeply hidden by the negative spiritual forces of Kelipah, of concealment of the divine, and to be more specific, by the coarseness of the Bestial Soul within the person, which stems from Kelipah.


How do we break through this coarseness, this spiritual blockage, and enable the Neshamah to emerge? By working on the avodah of Iskafya. Each time we practice Iskafya, we weaken the Bestial Soul. Just as ploughing loosens the soil and enables the seeds to grow, so does Iskafya weaken the Bestial Soul so that the ahavah mesuteres can come to the fore. (On the topic of eliminating coarseness and removing spiritual blockages, see here. As for the way to approach Iskafya in practice, and which areas it is preferable to focus on, see here.)


However, Iskafya itself does not reveal the ahavah mesuteres. Rather, it humbles the person and prepares one’s heart so that during Tefillah, the heart will be truly receptive to the various steps in the process of Tefillah (see here), until one reaches love of Hashem.


To be sure, the Jew who engages in Iskafya probably already feels love for Hashem to a significant extent, for it was this desire to connect to G–dliness that motivated him to engage in Iskafya in the first place. However, by engaging in Iskafya and actually davvening with that extra sensitivity, with Hashem’s help, he will reach a far more sublime level of love for Hashem.

Adapted from Likkutei Torah, Masei 96d. 

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[1] Tanya, Igeres HaTeshuvah ch. 1. Cf. Hayom Yom 28 Shevat.
[2] Avos 2:12.
[3] Tanya ch. 2, beg.



Dedicated in the merit of a speedy release for the captives Yonasan ben Malka (Jonathan Pollard), Sholom Mordechai Halevi ben Rivka (Sholom Rubashkin), and Zeva Rochel bas Chaya (Wendy Weiner Runge).


Dedicated by avi mori, Reb Kasriel Oliver and family, as a merit for imi morosi, Chana Feigeh bas Reizel (aka "Zippi"), on the occasion of her 60th birthday, tzu langeh, gezunteh, zisseh yorn, filled with material and spiritual success and prosperity.




Like what you read? The articles I write take a lot of time and effort. Please contact me to sponsor an article for (at least) $36 in honor of the birthday, wedding anniversary, or yarhtzeit of a loved one, or for a refuah shleimah or the like. Also, see here concerning the tremendous merit of supporting the dissemination of Chassidus, and the blessings that one receives for doing so.

Avodah: A Tough Job

Avodah: A Tough Job

Rabbi Yehoishophot Oliver

The purpose of a Jew’s life is avodas Hashem. The word avodah has multiple meanings. The most basic meaning is sheirus, to serve Hashem like a servant serves and prepares things for his master, similar to the expression, “I was created to serve my Maker.”[1] Thus, the word avodah means service.[2]

However,[3] the Hebrew word avodah also has a different but related connotation. It is etymologically related to the word ibud, “processing.” This involves taking a coarse, unusable substance, and treating it in various ways until it is refined and usable.

The classic example of this is taking a smelly, foul hide of an animal, and investing the tremendous effort necessary to treat it using many and various treatments until it is converted into leather. Then not only can it be used for constructive mundane purposes, it can even be used for holy purposes, such as parchment for Tefillin and the like.

Likewise, the Jew must engage in avodah in the sense of processing a coarse substance—taking the gashmiyus and the chumriyus (see here) of his body, his Bestial Soul, and the world around him, and fighting and struggling with herculean strength, even in the face of tremendous adversity, to reject the chumriyus and refine and transform the gashmiyus into a vessel for spirituality and G–dliness.[4]

The[5] extent and nature of the effort required to accomplish this transformation varies greatly, depending upon the person’s individual level and life circumstances.

Just[6] as processing hides involves transforming a substance from one extreme to another, so are we to transform the Bestial Soul from a desire for worldly pleasures to the other extreme—love of Hashem.[7]

Furthermore,[8] the hide resists being changed into leather, because one wants to change it into a state completely different from its natural state. So, too, the Bestial Soul naturally resist one’s efforts to transform it, and this necessitates avodah—tremendous effort to go against one’s nature.[9] And yet this resistance is in fact positive, because otherwise we would not need avodah—toil to change the Bestial Soul, and Hashem wants this task to require effort.

This[10] analogy, which emphasizes the need for toil, also implies that it is insufficient to serve Hashem out of fear alone; fear of Hashem does not necessarily require toil, for some people possess a natural fear of Hashem.[11] In contrast, love of Hashem always requires effort to evoke;[12] thus, true self-refinement requires developing both fear and love of Hashem.

Moreover, the hide is hard, and so processing it involves crushing it in order to soften it, and then it can become leather. Likewise, a Jew should engage in Iskafya, lit. “subduing”—going against his nature and crushing it.[13] This softens his personality, fulfilling the directive of our sages, “One should always be soft like a reed, and not hard like cedar.”[14]

This[15] analogy also expresses to the emotional difficulty involved, for the task of processing hides is degrading. Thus, we find that “One may not appoint a king or a high priest who was a tanner [one who processes hides]; since this task is degrading, the people will deride them.”[16] Likewise, the task of transforming the body, the Bestial Soul, and the outside world, will involve enduring unpleasantness and degradation.

A[17] Jew who struggles to overcome his nature is called an oved Elokim, a servant of Hashem. The use of the word oved in present tense implies that this expression refers to one engaged in a constant, lifelong battle with the evil inclination.

Why[18] is the specific name of Elokim used in this context? Because Elokim, which has the numerical value of hateva, nature,[19] is the divine name that creates the natural order. And when a Jew toils to change his own nature within, this has an impact upon the cosmos in general, such that he “processes” and refines the natural order as a whole, which stems from the divine name of Elokim.[20]

Moreover,[21] ultimately, investing the tremendous effort required to refine the physical elevates the Jew to a state of bittul bimetzius, complete submission to Hashem. This means that not only the Neshamah, but even the Bestial Soul and the body reach a state of bittul bimetzius, such that their entire being exists only to fulfill Hashem’s will. May we all merit to reach this level!


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[1] Kiddushin 82b.
[2] Hemshech Mayim Rabim 5636, p. 91.
[3] Torah Ohr, Bereshis 5b; ibid., Mishpatim 76a. Likkutei Torah, Vayikra 2d.
[4] Hayom Yom, 17 Sivan.
[5] Toras Menachem 5718, Vol. 22, p. 39.
[6] Ma’amarei Admur HaTzemach Tzedek, 5615, p. 266.
[7] Cf. Tanya ch. 17.
[8] Toras Menachem 5711, Vol. 3, p. 152.
[9] Tanya 118a.
[10] Toras Menachem 5712, Vol. 4, p. 329.
[11] Kuntres HoAvodah, chs. 1-3.
[12] Of course, some may have to exert more effort than others—cf. Tanya ch. 42.
[13] Ma’amarim Melukatim, Vol. 2, p. 361.
[14] Ta’anis 20a.
[15] Sefer HaSichos 5751, Vol. 1, p. 158.
[16] Kiddushin 82a. Mishneh Torah, Laws of Kings, 1:6.
[17] Tanya ch. 15.
[18] Toras Menachem 5712, Vol. 5, p. 138.
[19] Ramak, Pardes 12:2. Reishis Chochmah, Sha’ar HaTeshuvah, ch. 6, s.v. vehamargil.
[20] Cf. Likkutei Torah, Balak 73d.
[21] Sefer HaMa’amarim 5733, p. 377.



Dedicated in the merit of a speedy release for the captives Yonasan ben Malka (Jonathan Pollard), Sholom Mordechai Halevi ben Rivka (Sholom Rubashkin), and Zeva Rochel bas Chaya (Wendy Weiner Runge).




Dedicated by the Weinberger family in honor of the yahrtzeit of Melech ben Sara Masha a"h on 19 Tammuz.

Like what you read? The articles I write take a lot of time and effort. Please contact me to sponsor an article for (at least) $36 in honor of the birthday, wedding anniversary, or yarhtzeit of a loved one, or for a refuah shleimah or the like. Also, see here concerning the tremendous merit of supporting the dissemination of Chassidus, and the blessings that one receives for doing so.

The real Iskafya

In an earlier post we discussed the idea of Iskafya (self-restraint) through actions that do not deprive the physical body. The Rebbe describes this same idea and develops it further in the following letter to one who sought to purify himself of sin through fasting:

As for what you write concerning your conduct to fast on Mondays and Thursdays until midday: This is utterly inappropriate in my eyes, for this is not the way of Chassidus. Instead of afflicting the body, you should afflict the bestial soul.


In other words, you should not diminish your bodily health, as you are doing by refraining from eating or drinking to the extent necessary for your health. Rather, you should substitute this with afflicting the bestial soul: Abstain from indulging your desires in eating and drinking [i.e., eating unnecessarily], from idle chatter, never mind from slight gossip or any other form of forbidden speech. [One can also afflict oneself through positive actions, such us] adhering to the Mitzvah of loving your fellow Jew as yourself even with regard to a person whom it appears to you has not treated you lovingly, or has even harmed you or insulted you, and so on and so forth.


Behaviors such as these are sometimes even more difficult to bring oneself to do than fasting from eating and drinking [and thus bring one to even greater self-purification]. Moreover, they do not weaken one’s health and thus they do not detract from one’s ability to engage in one’s required study portions in Torah and fulfill Mitzvos with extra care.

Igros Kodesh, Vol. 12, p. 379.

Note that here the Rebbe does mention Iskafya in eating in the sense of refraining from delicacies, and only negates Iskafya in eating that involves fasting.

True pleasure requires sacrifice

Earlier, we discussed how the greatest pleasure of all is to be found in drawing close to holiness and G-dliness.

Aside from being inherently true, this is also an argument that one who feels mired in physical lusts can use to convince his Bestial Soul to devote itself to the spiritual.

However, there is a price to pay. In order to experience a higher pleasure, one must be more refined. Just as one who always drinks cheap, low-grade wine will not be able to sense the richness of flavor in fine wine, so must the one who wants to experience holy pleasures divest himself of physical pleasures. To use Kabbalistic terminology: In order for the vessel to absorb a higher light, it must be more refined.

Indulgence[1] in physical pleasures, even technically permitted ones, cools off the fire and passion one should have for holiness, and spoils one’s refined taste for G–dliness. This is the reason that physical pleasures are referred to as “the river of Shitim.”[2] A river represents water, for pleasures stem from water, which causes plants that provide pleasure to grow.[3] The word Shittim is related to the Hebrew word shtus, foolishness, for physical pleasures are foolish. The reason for this is twofold: Many physical pleasures lead to a bitter end, and even those that don’t stem from a very low source.
We can elaborate on the latter point through delving into the Shabbos liturgy. There we recite, “May all my innards [praise] His [G–d’s] Holy Name.” “My innards” is a reference to the angels called kravayim, innards. These angels are compared to the intestines, which digest the food one ingests, refining the important nutrients from the unneeded ones, and then absorbing the former into the body and eliminating the latter through defecation. Likewise, the angels receive a divine revelation that contains certain elements that are of low quality that they cannot internalize; this is spiritual waste matter. Certain angels are appointed with the task of refining the nutrients from the waste, and eliminating the waste matter. This rejected spiritual energy then falls down into our world, and turns into physical pleasures.

This is the reason that physical pleasure is referred to as foolishness, for in reality it is the waste matter from the higher spiritual realms. The foolishness of the hedonist is even greater when he is aware that physical pleasure will detract from his ability to experience G–dly pleasure. This is tremendous foolishness, for this means exchanging physical pleasure, which is in reality on the level of waste matter, for divine pleasure, which is true pleasure.

Let us be wise and avoid indulgence in physical pleasures, enabling us to develop refined pleasures and thus bring true delight and fulfillment to our soul.

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[1] The rest of this post is based on Sefer HaMa’amarim Basi L’Gani, Vol. 1, p. 50.

[2] Sanhedrin 106a.[3] See Tanya ch. 1.

The purpose of a Jew's life: Iskafya and Is’hapcha

As soon as a person becomes self-aware, he realizes that his own worst enemy is himself—his evil inclination (also known as the Bestial Soul).

Without working to refine himself, the person’s natural state is to be wild, ungoverned, and dangerous, driven by selfish and destructive urges, as it is written: “A man is born like a wild ass” (Iyov 11:12) and “The inclination of man is wicked from his youth” (Bereshis 8:21). In fact, our Sages explain (Talmud Yerushalmi, Berachos 3:5) that the word mine’urav, “from his youth,” can also be interpreted as mine’arav, “from the moment he stirs,” i.e., from the moment a fetus stirs to go out into the world, it is confronted by the evil inclination.

So we are starting life, which is given to us in order to serve G–d, with a handicap. Thus, when a Jew decides to devote himself to serving Hashem, he has to overcome the resistance of the evil inclination, who was in charge first, and has been in charge all along, until the Jew reached this decision. He must actively push and force himself to think words of Torah, concentrate on the words of prayer, and perform Mitzvos. At the same time he should distance himself from any behavior or environment that may lead to temptation. This is the notion of Iskafya—bending and forcing oneself to do what one would rather not do, or restraining oneself from a forbidden or inadvisable deed that one desires to commit.

This holds true for someone born into a Torah-observant, and even chassidishe family who for whatever reason never took his heritage seriously, and reached a point of maturity in which he decided to do so.

In a different way, it is also applicable to a newcomer who was introduced to these teachings later in life and desires to embrace them. For although he has become excited about Torah and Mitzvos, since these teachings and practices are yet to permeate his inner self, part of him still desires to sin.

Regardless of the person’s background, the first step of the one who seeks to serve Hashem is Iskafya. However, this is only the beginning. The goal of divine service is that with time, not only will one’s external behavior in thought, speech, and action conform with Hashem’s will, but he will even change his inner self, and change his middos, his character traits. This is known as Is’hapcha, inner transformation.

Jumping into the mikveh

The Baal Shem Tov teaches that since everything that occurs is by Divine Providence, everything one observes holds a lesson in one’s avodas Hashem, one’s divine service. Therefore, an essential part of serving Hashem is making an effort to notice these messages from Above, and then put them into practice in one’s daily life. Since even apparently trivial events in life also occur by Divine Providence, a lesson can and should be derived from them too.

So, here’s a little episode from my life that may hold a lesson. Today the mikveh was very cold. The fact that outside it was 4 degrees below zero didn’t make it any easier. I started inching into the water, but ... couldn’t continue. Then I realized that there was only one way: to run in as fast as possible. So I did, and found to my pleasant surprise that it wasn’t so painful after all.

Sometimes one experiences difficulty in fulfilling a particular instruction or obligation of the Torah, for whatever reason. The solution to this may well be to avoid thinking, calculating, and preparing, for in reality these are forms of subconscious inner stalling that only serve to lead to further inaction. When one feels a lack of interest, a coldness, to a task that must be done today, the only way to overcome this inner resistance, at least in the short term, is—just do it. Break yourself. And after the fact one may well see that it wasn’t so painful after all.

Afterward, hopefully sooner rather than later, one can and should work at refining one’s personal character (especially with the help of a Mashpia, a spiritual guide) to the point that one feels totally comfortable with that particular instruction of Torah. Until then, however, one should not fall short in one’s action, for “the deed is the main thing” (Pirkei Avos 1:17).

This is the concept of kabolas ol malchus Shomayim, acceptance of the yoke of divine sovereignty. This means that Hashem is the King and we are His servants, and so we must obey Him even when we don’t understand, are not in the mood, or are not personally so inclined. Or worse. Because He said so.

The same holds true for the relationship of a Chossid and his Rebbe: The Chossid obeys his Rebbe regardless whether he understands or emotionally connects with the instructions he was given. Because the Chossid has accepted the Rebbe as adoneinu, “our master,” and thus the Chossid is his servant.

Afterward, hopefully sooner rather than later, the Chossid can and should refine himself (especially with the help of a Mashpia) to the point that he understands and feels why these directives are important, and carries them out with eagerness. But in the meantime, he obeys.

Iskafya in Medrash

The Razo, obm.

Iskafya (self-restraint) is not necessarily related to eating and fasting, though it is often erroneously viewed as such.

Reb Zalman Aharon Shneersohn of blessed memory, known as the Razo, was the oldest son of the Rebbe Maharash. He once approached a young man who would afflict himself by fasting, and told him the following analogy:

A community leader lived for several years in a small village, and then moved to another village. Once he came to visit his former residence, in which a public bathhouse had been built shortly before his arrival. He inquired where the funds had originated from, and was told that the means of every member of the community had been assessed, and each was taxed according to his ability. Some paid a great sum of money, but even all the poor paid. The community leader was shown the objects that had been given to the community in lieu of cash.

The former community leader said to his replacement: “Heed my advice! What you are doing is not right. Those who gave large sums should give an additional amount, as should those of average means, and the poor should be exempted from the tax, because from them you will only receive objects useless to you.”

“The same is true here,” Reb Zalman Aharon said to the young man. “The person is called a ‘small city’ (Koheles 9:14; Nedarim 32b; cf. Tanya ch. 9) and every organ in the body dwells in this city. When one wishes to place a tax, there are wealthy ‘citizens,’ such as thought, speech, the faculty of hearing, and the like. Then there are poor ‘citizens,’ such as the rest of the body, which one would tax by imposing fasts and afflictions. The result of this is that the entire body becomes weakened. Thus, you would be better off leaving the poor organs and demanding a great deal from the wealthy ones: the eyes, ears, mouth, and so on. The results will be far greater.”

Shemu’os V’Sipurim, Vol. 1, p. 271.

This story was the basis of a whole approach to serving Hashem that was promoted by Reb Shlomo Chaim Kesselman, the great Mashpia in the Yeshiva of Tomchei Temimim (the Chabad Yeshiva) in Kfar Chabad:

Along with Reb Shlomo Chaim Kesselman’s demand for Avodas HaTefillah [prayer at length accompanied by lengthy meditation on Chassidic concepts], he would also demand Iskafya, and some chose to begin with Iskafya in eating. They would eat nothing, and fast for several days. Reb Shlomo Chaim couldn’t stand this.

He once told one of the students in Tomchei Temimim [the Lubavitcher Yeshivah] who asked for a path in serving Hashem: “The first thing necessary is Iskafya—but not in eating, for relatively speaking, that is the easiest thing. One should exercise Iskafya in speech, in using one’s eyes, and everything that one desires strongly [“altz voz es vilt zich”], one should not do.

That student responded openly to Reb Shlomo Chaim: “I can’t do that” [the implication is that he felt that he was able to practice Iskafya in eating, but not in the other areas in which he was instructed]. Reb Shlomo Chaim responded, “You are dismissed; you will not be an oived [person who works on self-improvement through Avodas HaTefillah; Reb Shlomo Chaim famously specialized in providing guidance in this area], not today, or ever.” Some say that he expressed of that person, “Even when plants grow on his hand, he won’t be an oived.”

Reb Shlomo Chaim expressed on many occasions: “You want to fast? Do Medrash! Medrash is an acronym for machshovoh—thought, dibbur—speech, re’iyah—seeing, and shemiyah—hearing. Strive to fast in these four areas. Fasts and mortifications break the body but not the evil inclination; in order to fight against the evil inclination one must fast in Medrash. [It goes on to say that Reb Shlomo Chaim would regularly quote the above analogy of the Razo, with slight variations from the way it is written above.]

Teshurah L’zecher Reb Shlomo Chaim Kesselman, pp. 32-33.

In my own words: True Iskafya involves breaking oneself so that one becomes refined deep down. The effective way of accomplishing this is by focusing on Iskafya in areas related to one’s inner self, instead of sufficing with an Iskafya that is superficially satisfying but in reality totally ineffective, and thus a distraction from one’s true task.

Clarification: In my humble opinion, I don’t think that this means that one should never excercise Iskafya in eating, because there are clear sources that indicate that one should practice Iskafya in eating (see, for example, Tanya ch. 27). Rather, it means to say that eating should not be the main focus of Iskafya, and perhaps it would constitute much less than it would have in the past. For instance, it might mean refraining from eating two servings of dessert, and sufficing with one, instead of refraining from any, as it might have meant in past times. In any case, the main focus of one’s Iskafya nowadays should be internal.

Iskafya makes us receptive

What do we do if we’re not inspired? We’re really trying to be inspired, or so we think, but ... there’s no progress.

At the beginning of Tanya chapter 29, the Alter Rebbe quotes the statement of the Zohar: If the wood doesn’t catch on fire, we break it (up into smaller pieces). Similarly, if the body doesn’t become lit with the light of the Neshama, we break it. The Alter Rebbe then explains that by reflecting upon a meditation that makes the body feel low, we make it receptive for the light of the Neshama.

This is also the idea of iskafya, self-restraint.

Men darf zich a beig ton. We have to restrain ourselves from indulgence.

But what does this involve? Starving ourselves? Of course not—we must be healthy in order to serve Hashem. Rather, it means regularly holding ourselves back from some material activity for which we have a strong desire. It means that when you have a strong desire for some material pleasure, you davka don’t give in to it. And even if you don’t hold yourself back every time, at least make it a regular part of your behavior.

Iskafya depends upon the individual. For many, perhaps most, it means indulging less. However, it could mean davka eating for someone who doesn’t want to eat. When Rabbi Gershon Mendel Garelik, Rav of Italy, was a young student, the Rebbe told him in Yechidus to make sure to finish everything on his plate. The reason seems to have been that he ate very little and was of ill health. Similarly, each person has to assess individually in which areas he needs to break himself.

In any case, the purpose isn’t to break and deprive the person for its own sake, but to change one’s inner self. Every single time the person breaks himself, he becomes more aidel, refined, and more of a keli, more receptive. More easily able to grasp abstract concepts in Chassidus. More easily concentrate on meditation in Tefillah and the words of Tefillah. More enthusiastically and genuinely do a favor for a fellow Jew. Try it and see.