The Gemara (Chagigah 3a) quotes a verse from Shir HaShirim (7:1), where Hashem expresses His love for Klal Yisrael, saying, "How beautiful are your feet with shoes." What does this mean exactly? Rava explains: "How pleasant are the feet of Klal Yisrael when they ascend to Jerusalem for the Shalosh Regalim (pilgrimage festivals)."
This Gemara is difficult to understand. What do the feet and shoes of Klal Yisrael have to do with the mitzvah of being Oleh L’Regel, ascending to Jerusalem for the festivals? Rav Eliyahu Lopian zt”l provides a profound insight that can perhaps shed light on this concept.
After Moshe Rabbeinu instructed Klal Yisrael regarding the Mishkan, the Torah states: "And the entire assembly of Bnei Yisrael left from before Moshe" (Shemos 35:20). The words "from before Moshe" seem redundant. If they had been speaking to Moshe and then left, it is obvious they were no longer in his presence. Why, then, does the Torah emphasize "from before Moshe"?
Rabbi Eliyahu Lopian explains that even after they physically left Moshe Rabbeinu’s presence, they still felt as though they were standing before him. His radiance, his influence, and his impact remained with them even after they walked away.
Can we even begin to imagine what it meant to be in the presence of Moshe Rabbeinu? To have a conversation with a man who spoke "face to face" with the Shechinah? There were no distractions—no one boasting about their wealth, their properties, the organizations they founded, or even the books they authored. There was only awe.
A remarkable Gemara (Eruvin 13b) illustrates this idea. Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi—one of the greatest Tannaim in Jewish history and the redactor of the Mishnah—was simply known as Rebbi throughout Shas. He personified both Torah and greatness together (Gittin 59a). The Gemara relates that Rebbi was once asked: "How did you achieve such greatness? What led you to earn the title of Rebbi?" He replied: "I will tell you my secret. Do you know why I am greater than my colleagues? Because I once saw the back of the great Tanna, R’ Meir. Had I seen his face, I would have been even greater."
I once heard a beautiful interpretation of this Gemara. Rebbi was one of the last Tannaim. In saying that he saw the back of R’ Meir, he was expressing that he merited seeing a "glimpse" of the previous generation. He saw the tail end of the great era that preceded him, a true Gadol from a previous generation, and that exposure left an indelible impression on him. It inspired him to rise to the heights of Rabbeinu HaKadosh.
Recently, we marked the yahrzeit of Rav Chaim Kanievsky zt”l. We were privileged to witness a tzaddik from the previous generation. For those who visited Eretz Yisrael, the highlight of the trip was receiving a bracha from Rav Chaim. That day felt different.
We woke up early. We davened at an early minyan. We prepared ourselves for the visit. There was an aura of holiness in the air. And even after leaving his home, we still felt his presence. We felt elevated. For days afterward, his holy face remained before us and it was all we could talk about. Just being in the proximity of a tzaddik lifted us to spiritual heights.
Now, can we even fathom what it was like when Klal Yisrael gathered and prepared to ascend to Jerusalem? To stand before the Shechinah? The awe, the reverence, the overwhelming privilege of standing before the King of Kings?
The very preparation for the journey to Yerushalayim was an exalted experience. Even before they took off their shoes, even before they arrived, even before they stepped into the courtyard of the Beis HaMikdash, Hashem was already moved by their devotion, and that is the meaning of the praise in Shir HaShirim. Their spiritual ascent began long before they physically arrived in Jerusalem.
Rav Yitzchak Zilberstein shlita once shared an incredible story: While taking a taxi in Jerusalem, the driver—who was not religious—turned to him and said, "Rabbi, I must tell you an amazing story. "After finishing my service in the IDF, my friends and I traveled to the Philippines. One day, while hiking, one of my friends suddenly started screaming: 'Hatzilu! Save me!' We looked down and saw a venomous snake wrapped around his leg. We were helpless. Every second was critical, but we had no way to assist him. In desperation, we shouted: 'Say Shema Yisrael! Call out to Hashem to save you!' He closed his eyes and, with all his might, began to scream: 'Shema Yisrael, Hashem Elokeinu, Hashem Echad!' And the moment he finished, the snake uncoiled itself and slithered away. My friend is now fully observant. He keeps Torah and mitzvos.
Rav Zilberstein then turned to the driver and asked, “And what about you?” The driver replied, “Rabbi, this didn’t happen to me. It happened to my friend.”
We can witness an open miracle before our very eyes—and still remain unmoved. This is the meaning of the verse: "From before Moshe." Even after leaving Moshe Rabbeinu’s presence, his influence remained with them.
When we experience something extraordinary—whether it is being in the presence of a tzaddik, witnessing a miracle, or feeling uplifted by a spiritual moment—it should leave a lasting impact on us. It should change us. Forever.
