According to Rebbe Nachman, "Kevodo Malei Olam" and "Ayeh makom kevodo" are two ways of perceiving God's presence:
"Ayeh makom kevodo - Where is the place of His Glory?" indicates God’s utter transcendence; "M’lo kol ha’aretz kevodo - The entire earth is full of His Glory," indicates God’s immanence.
This is certainly true. But I thought of another possibility as well. R David Fohrman explains the difference between "Eiphoh" and "Ayeh". Both words mean "where". But as we know, the Torah would not have two words with same exact meaning; what is the subtle difference between the two words?
"Eiphoh" is used when you want to know, literally, where something is. "Eiphoh haSherutim?" - where is the bathroom?
But "Ayeh" is not about where something is, literally. Its used for rhetorical purposes - when the questioner is posing a challenge. For example, when a father asks his 4 year old son, who has cookie crumbs all over his mouth - "Where did the cookies go!?" - the father know exactly where the cookies are. He is challenging his child; the cookies should still be here!
When God asked Kayin, after he had murdered Hevel, "אֵי הֶבֶל אָחִיךָ" - where is Hevel your brother? - God is challenging Kayin. God knows exactly where Hevel is! God is challenging Kayin; why is Hevel not here!
This is how we can understand "Ayeh Makom Kevodo." We know where God is - God is everywhere, and He is also beyond, just as Rebbe Nachman said. But the angels are asking, and we are asking along with them - where are you, God? Why are you not here yet, in all of your glory?! We need you! Reveal yourself in all your glory!
The Piacetzner Rebbe, in his Hachsharas Avreichim, quotes Rav Avraham Azulai (grandfather of the Chida) as saying:
All of a sudden some totally insignificant man comes in from the streets. Whoever he may be, he is joined to them. They are ten. Now they can recite the Kedusha.
No sooner than they are finished, this same individual makes his escape and goes back to the streets. But the words of holiness which were uttered before can now never be erased.
(Reb Nosson of Breslov)
This baby hippo needs a home fast - or the Nazi enabling Swiss will euthanize it. See here for details.
From my perspective as Defense Minister, I see tremendous possibilities. Imagine storming the beis medrish on the back of a 6,000 pound hippo! The possibilities are endless...
The first time we called Rebbe on Purim, Rebbe understood that we were not yet ready to speak with him. Rebbe handed the phone to one of the junior talmidim, who mumbled something about the cardinals and Achashveirosh. We hung up the phone.
A few hours later, we were ready, at least on some level, to hear Rebbe's teaching.
Rebbe explained the well known line in Tehillim:
אֶשָּׂא עֵינַי אֶל-הֶהָרִים מֵאַיִן יָבֹא עֶזְרִי
I will lift up my eyes to the mountains. From where does my help come?
Rebbe explained that we should read the pasuk differently than as translated above. "מֵאַיִן" does not mean "From where." Rather, "מֵאַיִן" means that specifically when one is in a place of "אַיִן", when he is in a very low place, to the point where he feels that he is nothing - that is when he will see "יָבֹא עֶזְרִי."
As a resident in a nearby hospital, the Rochester Jew spends many hours with patients of various nationalities. Recently, he checked in on a Cuban patient who was suffering from a great illness.
The Cuban asked the Rochester Jew - "what nationality are you? What are you?" The Rochester Jew replied, "I am a Jew.""Thats good," said the Cuban. "Jews have Beitzim.*"
*translation deemed necessary for the youthful members of the RRRR
"Good Purim, Rebbe," the meek voice said. But it was lost between the flint-grey beard and the moth-eaten scarf.
The Koznitzer Maggid, the great Chassidic leader, looked up from his Purim celebration.
"Was that a breeze I felt?" he said. "Did someone open a window?"
"Good Purim, Rebbe," the man said again, scarcely a decibel louder. The Maggid looked around. Standing there in a tattered, oversized coat, a battered black hat, with two pitiful eyes staring out from beneath, stood Pinchas the Shlepper, the Maggid's most destitute Chassid. He was the town porter and local doormat. People could wipe their feet on him and not even notice.
"Good Purim, Pinchas!" the Maggid cried. "Well, did you bring me m'shalach monot, - a Purim package?" Pinchas looked down at his cracking shoes. He did not have food to feed his own family. How could he bring the Maggid a gift?
"Pinchas!" the Rebbe shouted. "How long will you remain a shlepper? It's Purim today. V'nahaphachu! Everything turns over! Go and stand at the head of the table." Pinchas moved over obediently. "Now, in your loudest voice," the Maggid said, "wish me a good Purim."
"Good Purim," he repeated. Some mice in the corner squeaked in response.
"Not like that. Louder, Pinchas!"
"Louder, Pinchas!" The Rebbe's Chassidim sitting around the Purim table joined in with words of encouragement.
"GOOD PURIM! GOOD PURIM!" After about a half-hour of trying, Pinchas let out a string of really inspired "Good Purims." The Rebbe's eyes lit up.
"Now, Pinchas. Go out and bring me m'shalach monot. And I want you to wish "Good Purim" to every person you meet."
Pinchas strode down the town's main street. "Good Purim," he called to everyone he met. "GOOD PURIM!" The townspeople were dumbstruck. "Was that Pinchas the Shlepper?" they asked.
Pinchas marched into the shop of the local wine merchant. "Good Purim, Reb Shmuel!" he said. "Give me three bottles of your best wine and I will pay you tomorrow, and if not, well it's Purim today!" Reb Shmuel was shocked, but he seized the opportunity to perform a mitzvah and ran to the wine shelf, as his bewildered wife looked on.
From there, Pinchas went to the bakery. "Good Purim, Reb Meir! Give me five cakes and five loaves of bread and I will pay you tomorrow, and if not, well, it's Purim today!" Again, he was met with the same enthusiastic response. Pinchas quickly ran back to the Maggid's home to present him with his m'shalach monos -- cake and wine. "Good Purim, Rebbe!" he cried, as he ran back out again for his family. The butcher, the tailor, the cobbler -- Pinchas wished each one of them a special Good Purim.
Several hours later, in their little shack at the edge of town, Pinchas the Shlepper's family heard several sharp kicks at the front door, which then burst open. Framed in the doorway was a man completely obscured by an armload of packages, except for his shiny new shoes, neatly pressed trousers and the top of a new felt hat -- their father!
"GOOD PURIM, CHILDREN!" he shouted. His wife stared at him as if in a dream. Pinchas went over to her. "My dear, I have been a terrible husband and have made you and the children suffer for years. I promise that from now on things will be different. But first, set the table, it's Purim today!" The table was quickly set -- a meal fit for a king. "But children, before we begin…" Pinchas lined them up in front of the table. "Wish your father a Good Purim."
"Good Purim, Tatte."
"No, not like that. Louder!"
"Good Purim, Tatte!"
Across the town, the Koznitzer Maggid leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and smiled. "Sha, Sha!" the Chassidim all cried. "The Rebbe sees something. What is it Rebbe? Tell us."
"Right now," he replied, "Pinchas the Shlepper is teaching his whole family to say Good Purim, and all the angels in Heaven are listening with joy."
From that Purim on, Pinchas's life changed. His new found confidence inspired others, who lent him money and started him in business. After many years, he became quite wealthy, and his home became a refuge for all the troubled and needy people in the area. His life was spent helping others and all who knocked on his door found endless encouragement in his hearty and heartfelt welcome.
But Esther also means something else. We say in Tehillim 27 (L’Dovid Hashem Ori) an amazing line: “ אַל-תַּסְתֵּר פָּנֶיךָ מִמֶּנִּי” – G-d, do not hide your face from me! I will not accept your hiddenness! We may live in a world of darkness, but I will not be at peace with it!
And this is also the essence of Esther’s name – אֶסְתֵּר = אֶ + סְתֵּר. Esther = אַל-תַּסְתֵּר– do not hide from me!
Esther’s challenge is to experience hester panim, G-d’s hiddenness – “וְאָנֹכִי, הַסְתֵּר אַסְתִּיר פָּנַי” - but then to revolt against it! “ אַל-תַּסְתֵּר פָּנֶיךָ מִמֶּנִּי” - Father in heaven, do not hide; show me your face! Save your people!