Restoring My Soul

The truth is, I'm still processing it.

I had the z'chut to attend the annual hilula (celebration) of my Rebbe, Reb Kalonymous Kalman Shapira zya hyd this past motzei Shabbos. It was such an incredibly moving event, the intensity of it all is still so overwhelming that I constantly found my thoughts drifting back to the words that Rav Moshe Weinberger spoke.

This year, the hilula coincided with the debut of a new book that my good friend Binyomin Wolf put out. A collection of the ma'amarim Rav Weinberger gave over the last 15 years since the inception of the hilula in 2000, this slim volume serves not only as an introduction to the Torah of Piaseczna, but that of Rav Weinberger as well. It's a beautiful addition to the legacy of the Rebbe, a strong homage to the message of the Aish Kodesh.

I consider myself fortunate. Lucky to have been introduced the the writings of the Rebbe during a particularly difficult time in my life and then later on - through my efforts to share his work with others - discovering the fount of Torah wisdom that is Rav Weinberger. It's no coincidence that the same praise and gratitude that Rav Weinberger himself attributes to the Piaseczna is said about himself by others. In this year's ma'amar (indeed, the motivation behind the book) Rav Weinberger addressed the phenomenon we are witnessing that people from all walks of life - Jews and non-Jews alike - are drawn to the Torah of the Aish Kodesh in ever growing droves. Soul searchers, academics, meditation enthusiasts, philosophers, people from various streams of Judaism - all come to drink from the wellsprings of Reb Kalonymous Kalman. What is it about the Rebbe? What is the appeal? Rav Weinberger discusses this and more, and it can be listened to here.

For me, personally? As Rav Weinberger intimated, there are people who search for tzaddikim who can breathe life back into our souls. They feel deflated, defeated, lost in the chaos of a world moving at breakneck speed. They long to hear words of encouragement, to taste - briefly - the "dew of life" on their parched lips. They seek healing; some may be healers themselves, giving away their own vitality to others while wondering (doubting!) in the back of their mind whether they have anything to give.

I am such a person.

The Rebbe's writings - in the inimitable words of Rav Soloveitchik - address themselves to the reader's soul. Even if the passage itself is not relevant to my situation, the essence of the Rebbe permeates every word and touches me to my very core. His teaching are a touchstone for me, a guide for my daily living. And many times I don't internalize his words, and I don't feel worthy of considering myself a talmid, let alone a chassid. Still, because of who the Rebbe was, I can never stay far away from him. It is the conviction, the knowledge that the Rebbe is speaking directly to me from the perspective of one who has also suffered that comforts me when I'm confronted with the existential loneliness that we all share.

It's his words of fire and hope that illuminate my darkness, the same words that Rav Weinberger echoed in that darkened room this past motzei Shabbos.

It strengthens me, and I can take hold of myself once more and plunge back into the fray.

The Heart and the Wellspring: Maoz Tzur

Courtesy of Ynet, off the new(-ish) album Achake Lo: Songs From the Ashes of the Holocaust.

ReBound...

Today is the 4th of Ram Cheshvan, the anniversary of death for the Rebbe of Piaseczna and all the other kedoshim that were part of the liquidation of the Trawniki labor camp.

So what am I missing? Simply to be a Jew. I see myself as a self portrait...Just one thing is missing: the soul. 

God! Master of the World, Who sees my innermost secrets! Before You I confess. You I beseech! I feel so cast aside and distanced from You and from Your holy Presence! Help me - I want to become a simple Jew! 

God! Save me from wasting the rest of my years and chasing the illusions of life! Draw me closer and bring me into Your innermost Presence! Bind me to You forever and ever in wealth of spirit and soul! - Rav Kalonymous Kalman, Tzav v'Ziruz

Oh, Rebbe...

How is it that every word of your holy writings seems to speak directly to my core, the root of my neshama? No matter what my situation is at the moment I can find relevance in your wisdom.

I, too, want to be a Jew.

Unlike you, I am far from perfect, if not drastically so. So much so that I hesitate to look to you, to bind myself to your teachings and legacy, so as not to sully your reputation and zchuyot by association.

In honor of your yahrtzeit, I wanted to do something different, to separate this day from other days. But even that was a challenge that I struggled to surpass. So instead I decided to serve HaShem with simplicity today. To just pray to Him as I am. To be as real and honest as possible - accepting where I am but not resigned to the position - so that I can look forward, seek beyond the sky and clouds, and get a glimpse of the Throne of Glory and the Almighty King.

And maybe, you'll be sitting there as well, basking in the Divine. And you'll have some nachas from me...

Behold, I attach myself in my prayers, to all the true tzadikim in our generation, as well as to all the holy tzadikim who rest in the earth. -- And specifically, to my holy Rebbe, the Sacred Fire Rav Kalonymous Kalman ben R' Eliezer and Chana Bracha, may his memory shield us, may God avenge his blood.

Now with English...

I posted a slightly different video a few months back, having found it over at Dixie Yid's blog.

This go-around has English subtitles for those who struggle with the Hebrew.

Kudos to my brother for sending this to me...

Free shiur from Rav Moshe Weinberger

From this past motzei Shabbos at the hilulla of Rav Kalonymos Kalman Shapira, the Piaseczna Rebbe zt"l hy"d. Unfortunately I couldn't make it, as I was spending time with my father and his siblings at the shiva for my grandfather A"H.

Here's the link for the shiur; I haven't listened to it yet, but I'm sure it will be great! For thousands of other shiurim on the Rebbe's works, and on countless other topics that run the gamut of Torah, visit www.ravmosheweinberger.com, where a new(-ish) subscription plan allots fifty credits per month for only $6.99, with no obligations.

The Holiest Generation

The following story never fails to bring tears to my eyes. After hearing it once again in a shiur from Rabbi Aryeh Lebowitz, I decided to share it.

Dr. Isaac Steven Herschkopf is an attending psychiatrist at the NYU Medical Center and the author of Hello Darkness, My Old Friend: Embracing Anger to Heal Your Life. This excerpt is from a forthcoming memoir.

I could not have been more than four or five when I asked her. It seemed to me, at the time, to be an innocent, straightforward question: “Mommy, when do I get my number?” 

I was, of course, upset when she burst into tears and ran out of the kitchen, but I was also confused. This was Washington Heights in the 1950s. It was an enclave of survivors. Every adult I knew had a number. Even my teenage sister had one in blue ink tattooed on her forearm. 

They were as ubiquitous on the benches of Riverside Drive as they were on the footpaths of Fort Tryon Park. If you saw an adult with some sort of hat on his head, he invariably also had a number on his arm. In the summer, when the community traveled en masse to Catskill bungalow colonies, or to Rockaway beaches, the numbers came too. 

I presumed it was a ceremonious part of becoming bar mitzvah, or perhaps graduation from Breuer’s or Soloveichik, our local yeshivas. No one appeared to be embarrassed by their number. ARG! I never saw anyone try to cover it up when they went swimming. It seemed to be a matter of fact part of life. 

When, as children, we would ask our parents why there was a “Mother’s Day” and a “Father’s Day,” but no “Children’s Day,” the automatic response was “Every day is ‘Children’s Day’!” In Washington Heights, in the ’50s, every day was Yom HaShoah, Holocaust Remembrance Day. 

Ironically enough, at the same time, no day was Yom HaShoah. The commemoration, as it exists today, was not around then. Breuer’s and Soloveichik consisted almost exclusively of children of survivors, yet neither school had any assembly, or recognition of any type, of the Shoah. 

The very word Shoah didn’t exist. The word Holocaust did, but it was never invoked. When on rare occasion our parents would make reference to the events that led them to leave Europe to come to America, they would label it “the War.” 

They spoke nostalgically of life “before the War”; they never spoke of what happened during “the War.” They spoke reverently of their parents and siblings who were “lost in the War”; they never spoke of their spouses or children who perished. After all, they had new spouses and new children who didn’t need to be reminded that they were replacements. 

I was already bar mitzvah when I first realized that my parents had been previously married and had prior children. Years later I was shocked to discover that my sister with whom I was raised was not my father’s daughter. 

When I finally came to understand that not every adult was a survivor, and people would ask me what survivors were really like, I never knew what to answer. There was Mr. Silverberg, our seatmate in shul, as jovial as Santa Claus, who always had a good word for everyone. On the other hand, there was Mr. Grauer, our neighbor whose face was indelibly etched in a frown and was always threatening to hit his wife or his children. In retrospect, as a psychiatrist, I could understand both, but who truly defined what it meant to be a survivor? Did anyone, or anything? 

I learned the answer from Rabbi Moshe Feinstein. 

This gadol hador, the greatest sage of his generation, was so renowned he was referred to simply as “Rav Moshe.” The closest I came to this legend was at Yeshiva University High School, where my rebbe was his son-in-law, Rabbi Moshe Tendler. Rabbi Tendler, and every other rabbi, would speak of Rav Moshe in awe-stricken tones usually reserved for biblical forefathers. 

One summer I was spending a week with my aunt and uncle in upstate Ellenville. Uncle David and Aunt Saba, survivors themselves, as the doctor and nurse in charge of the concentration camp infirmary, had managed to save the lives of innumerable inmates, including my mother and sister. After “the War” they had set up a medical practice in this small Catskill village, where, I discovered, to my amazement, they had one celebrity patient - Rav Moshe. 

My aunt mentioned casually that Rav Moshe had an appointment the next day. Would I like to meet him? Would I? It was like asking me, would I like to meet God. 

I couldn’t sleep that night. I agonized over what I should wear. Should I approach him? What should I say? Should I mention that his son-in-law was my rebbe? Should I speak to him in English, or my rudimentary Yiddish? 

I was seated in the waiting room, in the best clothing I had with me, an hour before his appointment. It seemed like an eternity, but eventually he arrived, accompanied by an assistant at each side. He didn’t notice me. 

I was frozen. I had intended to rise deferentially when he entered, but I didn’t. I had prepared a few sentences that I had repeatedly memorized, but I sensed that my heart was beating too quickly for me to speak calmly. 

My aunt had heard the chime when he entered and came out of the office to greet him: “Rabbi Feinstein, did you meet my nephew Ikey? Can you believe ashaygitz [unobservant] like me has a yeshiva bochur[student] in the family?” 

Rav Moshe finally looked at me. I was mortified. My aunt was addressing him irreverently. She was joking with him. She had called me Ikey, not Yitzchok, or even Isaac. 

Then it got even worse. She walked over to him. Surely she knew not to shake his hand. She didn’t. She kissed him affectionately on the cheek as she did many of her favorite patients. She then told him my uncle would see him in a minute and returned to the office. 

Rav Moshe and his attendants turned and looked at me, I thought accusingly. I wanted to die. In a panic, I walked over to him and started to apologize profusely: “Rabbi Feinstein, I apologize. My aunt, she isn’t frum [religious]. She doesn’t understand…” 

He immediately placed his fingers on my lips to stop me from talking. He then softly spoke two sentences in Yiddish that I will remember to my dying day: “She has numbers on her arms. She is holier than me.” 

Rav Moshe had understood what I had not. Our holiest generation was defined by the numbers on their arms.

A Life Apart

This is a "must watch" documentary that I mentioned a while back in a post about Reb Shlomo Halberstam, the Bobover Rebbe OBM.

The full version is now available on YouTube. Hat tip to Rebbe Clips.

Awesome sale!

The website for Rav Moshe Weinberger's shiurim is holding a MAJOR sale until Sunday. All Chanukah related shiurim are 25% off, and all shiurim in chassidus are 32% off!

Rabbi Weinberger has given thousands of shiurim on a broad variety of topics and sefarim. Now you can get shiurim on the Avnei Nezer, Be'er Mayim Chaim, the B'nei Yisaschar and much much more for a significantly reduced price.

Every penny is worth it, believe me.

Catharsis on Paper

A recent paper I wrote for one of my college Psychology courses:

Introduction

Judaism has always been a religion of positive focus, its adherents finding inventive ways to infuse their service with joy, meaning, and fervor. It is taught that through honest, selfless worship of God, one can simultaneously elevate the mundane through divine service as he transcends his physical trappings in spiritual bliss. Perhaps more so than other religions, Judaism takes pains to ensure that humans – not just constituents of the faith – live a life of pleasantness, compassion, and ultimately happiness.

Similarly, Psychology has a focus on health and wellbeing. For a while, the zeitgeist focused on the pathological aspects of the psyche, focusing on abnormalities, mental illness, and other negative characteristics that crop up in the field. However, both the field’s philosophical beginnings as well as its shifting focus of research have been that of helping others achieve healthier lifestyles and mindsets. Indeed, even during that era of psychopathology, it is self evident that the original intent and subsequent efforts of therapy, psychoanalysis, and other innovations were with the goal of returning the patient to an point of origin beyond sickness, on the road to health. As such, the field has grown rich with many interventions, designed to help people cope, adjust, heal and determine the best possible path in life.

The Importance of Language

In both Judaism and Psychology, there is a primacy placed on language. The way we give expression to feelings, thoughts, and emotions, as well as our conceptualization of many different ideas and theories is contingent on the common language that we share. It is as integral a tool for the rabbi sermonizing to his congregation as it is for the therapist establishing a rapport with his client; coreligionists and colleagues alike rely on the jargon of their respective communities, yet strive to find the words to make it accessible for the “outsider” or layman, when necessary. Language allows us to reify the abstract, to clearly delineate and define our magnificent ideas into something coherent and structured.

Ultimately, language bestows us with the power to create; every instance of speech or communication is a creative process that we tap into, usually unaware of the amazing power that we yield. Practically speaking: using language we can build bridges between people, and perhaps more importantly, inroads into our selves.

Most of therapy is predicated on some sort of communication; the same can be said about religious worship. While it often seems as if the dialogue is one-sided, there is an inherent belief in both instances that there is a reciprocal relationship occurring, albeit in a more nuanced fashion. Beyond the dynamics of the sessions themselves, however, is the utilization of the written word as a helpful, effective intervention with various applications.

Writing as a Cognitive, Behavioral Practice

Psychologist Martin Seligman has written extensively about the positive effect of writing exercises. One of his innovations is “gratitude writing”, in which the client makes a list at the end of the day of all of the good things that happened to him or her throughout the day. Seligman stresses that when it comes to these exercises, nothing is too small or insignificant, but rather the person should strive to remember and record each positive occurrence, along with why he or she thinks such a thing happened (e.g. “My wife pressed my shirts the way I like them today.” and “She did this because she is a thoughtful, caring person.”). The effect of this exercise is twofold: it trains one to view the world, and others in a good light. Seligman also exhorts the practitioner to keep a physical record of the list (Seligman, 2011): the writing itself is of equal importance, due to its role in the habituation of the practice, as well as the creative awareness that writing engenders.

A parallel practice exists in Judaism as well. Hasidic thought – especially that of Rabbi Nachman of Breslov – is preoccupied with focusing on the positive elements of life. The inherent joy that can be found in our existential roles in the physical realm is a main tenet of Hasidic philosophy, and most of the practices associated with Hasidism reflect this sensitivity. Rabbi Nachman in particular battled the human tendency toward depression by preaching the necessity of finding the “good point” (nekuda tova) in every person – most all, the good point within one’s self. That infinitesimal spark of goodness – hidden in even the most depraved, wretched being, mired with the filth of sin – can be found, cultivated, and blown into a raging fire of holy passion that resuscitates the soul of that person. That is the deeper meaning of the verse in Psalms: “I will sing to God with what I have left.” (146:2) To wit: with that small part of what is left of the Godly soul, the sinner rapturously clings to it and returns to God (Sternhartz).

Utilizing the above teaching, Grand Rabbi Aryeh Wohl of Sudilkov (based in Ramat Beit Shemesh, Israel), a contemporary Hasidic teacher, has designed a similar – yet unique - practice to Seligman’s. Here is an excerpt from a student who received instruction from the Sudilkover rebbe (explanations and translation of terms mine):

The Rebbe then advised me to get a notebook and draw lines down the pages and divide them into three columns. In the first column, I was to record things that I did good [sic] that day; to include even small things like washing negel vasser (ritual hand washing upon arising from sleep) in the morning upon arising. In the second column, I was to record the challenges and nisyonos (Hebrew for “challenge” or “test”) that I experienced that day. This was to include things such as occurrences when I failed to maintain my composure and expressed my anger. Finally, in the third column I was to record examples of Hashem's chasadim (kindnesses) that I observed that day.

The Rebbe instructed to read what I had written down out loud before I said Krias Shema al HaMita each night… (Anonymous, 2007)

After several weeks of carefully following the instruction of his teacher, the student observes with pleasant surprise:

…Each night my list of good points and the list of chasadim grew longer and longer and my list of challenges/nisyonos grew shorter and shorter. The process of having to be conscious each day to write something down made me stop and think at intervals throughout the day. What am I doing good today? What am I not doing good today? (Anonymous, 2007)

As with Seligman’s intervention, Rabbi Wohl’s methodology helps the practitioner build up a sense of self efficacy, allows the person to place matters in a proper positive perspective, and increases the cognizance of one’s actions in day-to-day dealings. People who engage in these sorts of exercises will seek opportunities to find the good in daily occurrences. They will be more aware of the consequences of their actions when they recognize that they will have to make an accounting at the end of the day. This is in line with the Jewish concept of cheshbon haNefesh (“accounting of the soul”), a similar exercise wherein one keeps extensive, detailed records of nearly every action and thought that he had, with the intention of examining these records at the end of the day to discern the areas of his character refinement that require attention.

Structure Building Exercises

The above ideas can be adapted for nearly anything. Rabbi Kalonymos Kalman Shapira of Piaseczna, a Hasidic Rabbi who lived (and perished) in Poland during the Holocaust, wrote a masterful volume geared toward young students. The book, A Student’s Obligation (Chovat HaTalmidim, Warsaw 1929) is replete with behavioral (as well as cognitive) exercises designed to help the youth overcome such common deficiencies like laziness, poor planning skills, lack of commitment, and inefficient task completion. He too emphasizes the importance of writing things down:

It is beneficial to write out a schedule for yourself on a sheet of paper, starting with the time you wish to get up in the morning and continuing with all your activities. Use the sheet as a reference, checking back during the day to see if you have accomplished what you set out to do. (Shapira, 1995)

While the rebbe's target audience for the book was yeshiva (Rabbinical seminary) age students, and thus he mentions this in the context of learning sessions and finding spare time for extra study sessions, the rebbe clearly saw the value in this technique for people in all walks of life:

Whether you are in yeshiva or not, the schedule of study that you set for yourself should be followed to the minute. You should get to the point that if for some reason you are not able to complete a period of learning, you should feel pained, as if the day itself remained uncompleted....

Each day, make it a practice to check yesterday's schedule. What you did not complete yesterday, you should attempt to complete today. You should only do this, however, if you were unable to finish because of laziness or lack of diligence. If you were thrown off schedule because of a difficult passage...then you should not force yourself to complete [what] you missed yesterday.

The whole idea of keeping to a quantitative schedule is to discipline yourself to learn crisply and without meandering. (Shapira, 1995)

While it is clear that the rebbe's focus was on Torah study, his advice can be applied to the totality of the day. The carefully mapped out day will more often than not yield far better results in accomplishment than the haphazard approach to our busy lives. Moreover, it introduces the concept of discipline into everyday operations, which generates consistency, an important ingredient to a healthy lifestyle. There are varying degrees to the stricture of your structure; some people may prefer an outline as opposed to a minute-to-minute checklist. As with everything, it has to be done with a keen sense of self awareness and intellectual honesty.

This suggestion also lends itself finely to the idea of cheshbon haNefesh, as explained above: at the end of the day, one can refer back to his schedule and see how he did. As he starts to sort through the day's events, determining what held him back here, why he dragged his feet at that point, etc. that will aid him in recalling the particularities of the day, and his interactions with people. This segues perfectly into a real, honest soul-searching, which is Rabbi Shapira’s ultimate intent.

Writing as Therapy

Perhaps one of the most important elements of writing is the therapeutic nature of writing. As Ernest Hemingway once said, “There is nothing to writing – all you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” As we mentioned earlier, the process of writing is no less than a creative act, one in which we conceive an idea and carry it within us until it is ready to emerge into the world. The “birth process” – fleshing out an idea and putting it out into the common reality we share with others is simultaneously painful and exhilarating. By giving voice to our passions, our hopes, even our fears, we proclaim our existence to the world and lend credence to our innermost thoughts by acknowledging them openly. Moreover, the very act of writing may assist in relieving tension by serving as an outlet for strong emotions, the medium serving as a “safe” forum for expression. Those thoughts that are too provocative, frightening, or hurtful to be shared with another person can be let out in a private journal. The writing process is a pressure valve, an opportunity for catharsis that is almost unparalleled.

Returning to Rabbi Shapira for a moment, he offers another daring intervention based on this principle. At the end of the ninth chapter, the rebbe addresses the issue of reconciling with an enemy with whom the mutual hate is so great that you simply cannot find any redeeming qualities in this person:

This is what you should do. Write him a letter. Don't send it to him; hide it somewhere in your home. In the letter, insult and shame him as much as the serpent of anger in your heart desires. For some days, read the letter aloud, and imagine that you are standing in front of him, taunting and abusing him with all the expressions of the letter. After some days, you will find your anger has dissipated, and if you are a sensitive person, you may discover yourself running to reconcile with him. (Shapira, 1995)

More than an act of catharsis, the rebbe's advice shows a profound quality in our nature. After pouring out all the venomous feelings and thoughts about this person into this composition, the student is encouraged to reread it every few days. Despite the fact that in the heat of the moment he was able to pen such hateful, hurtful words, a few days later those words will seem to be alien and foreign, and he will have a hard time believing that we actually wrote them.

With every subsequent reading, the student will observe "Wow, I was being pretty harsh. He's not like that all the time..." and he will begin to see flaws in his hateful view of this person. Moreover, he will begin to find ways to counter the arguments made in the letter, and find redeeming qualities in this fellow as he subsequently revisits the letter. Eventually, the feelings of hate and anger will have been replaced by a powerful desire to reconcile with this person, and like Rabbi Shapira asserts, he will run to make peace with him.

Writing allows one to work through a problem, to record all the different factors swirling around in his thoughts and categorize them, and give him something to work with. When ideas are brought into the practical realm, it makes them more manageable to deal with – and a lot less scary.

Writing as Legacy

Writing serves another important function: the giving others a part of one’s self, preserved for posterity. Writing provides an opportunity to bestow on others an intellectual legacy, his curriculum vitae that can be passed on to subsequent generations of family members, students, and general audiences. Lord Byron wrote: “But words are things, and a small drop of ink, falling like dew upon a thought, produces that which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think.” Giving the world works that inspire creativity, that challenge people to consider (and reconsider) their tightly held notions, that encourages people to imagine something larger than themselves is an important value for many. Writing helps them achieve this goal and reach the greatest amount of people.

A must read

A heartbreaking wartime sacrifice and later, a father's quest

Mini Doc about the Piaseczna Rebbe

I found this a while ago on Dixie Yid's blog. If you understand Hebrew, it's worth seeing. Also, it has two photos of the rebbe that I have never seen elsewhere. if anyone knows where I can find those two pictures, I'd be much obliged...

Thoughts on the Holocaust

I just finished reading an amazing book concerning the Shoah, specifically the spiritual resilience of those religious Jews in the the ghettos and camps. With God in Hell: Judaism in the Ghettos and Deathcamps, by Rabbi Eliezer Berkovits is a compelling, gripping narrative of the battle of the Jew's eternal soul against the onslaught of the Nazi German death machine. Full of inspiring anecdotes about *regular* Jews and the lengths they went to in order to fulfill the slightest shadow of a mitzvah, Rabbi Berkovits shows us that Jewish pride was upheld not by singular moments of astonishing heroism by a few individuals, but rather on a constant basis by every single Jew who struggled to serve his Creator despite (or more appropriately, in spite of) the insufferable conditions. Throughout the book, Rabbi Berkovits (a survivor himself) pulls back from the wartime narrative to discuss the behavior and psyche of the religious Jew during these times, examining what drove the Jew to defy the horrors he faced on a daily, hourly, minute-to-minute basis.

A brief excerpt that jumped out at me:

To surrender one's life for the "sanctification of the Name" is the highest mitzvah of all, but the Jews in the ghettos an concentration camps had no previous experience in fulfilling this particular commandment.
Thus the question arose: what was the correct formula for the blessing prior to the mitzvah of Kiddush haShem? Of course, the question was not altogether a matter of ignorance. On the contrary, it was prompted by a discussion in the Talmud, dealing not specifically with Kiddush haShem but generally with all categories of divine commandments.
How is one to bless an to thank God before one dies in fulfillment of the commandment of sanctifying His great name?
Uncomprehendingly we stand before our people, the Jews.
Overwhelmed by awe, we stand before these human beings, flesh like our own flesh, bones like our bones, who in the midst of the miseries of the ghetto and the sufferings of the death camps, were preoccupied with the question of what was the correct formula for blessing and thanking God when their ultimate hour would arrive! Even in Auschwitz, Maidanek, Birkenau, and Buchenwald..."Blessed art Thou, Eternal, our God, who hast commanded us through His commandments and commanded us to sanctify His name in public."

Admittedly, I have a slight obsession with the Holocaust; as a grandchild of survivors who was partially raised by them (we lived around the corner from my mother's parents - they had nearly as much a hand in raising me as my own parents), I grew up with "the War" as a permanent fixture in my life. The War, which had so totally altered my grandparents' lives in an indelible way - shaping their world view and their approach to even the most seemingly trivial things in life - continued to influence my parents' and my own upbringing.

We were taught never to waste a morsel of food; this teaching extended to other areas of life, but became most prominent at mealtime. While I've heard disparaging talk about how this is an indicator of some sort of "unfortunate residual scarring" (not my own words, God forbid) as a result of the utter starvation experienced in the camps(which subsequently "burden" the children and grandchildren of those survivors...again, not my own words), I only see the benefit of having learned not to be a glutton or a spendthrift. Moreover, I had to acknowledge the consequences of my own greediness - no matter what, I had to finish what I took onto my plate, even if it took all night.

I learned to appreciate what I had, both in terms of material possessions as well as the religious freedoms I was lucky to experience. My parents never missed an opportunity to remind me of how lucky I was to have grandparents, as they in turn had been reminded of their fortune to grow up with parents - a "luxury" many survivors couldn't claim as their own. To live as a Jew without fear of persecution in this great country; to be able to cross borders with ease and expedience; to visit the Holy Land in comfort and health - so much to be thankful for, and more.

As I got older, I felt an urge to learn more about this cataclysmic event that my beloved grandparents had endured. I began to read volumes upon volumes of books about the subject. Personal testimonies, historic overviews from both Jewish and non-Jewish sources, and philosophical treatises written both during and after the war that attempted to put this enormous tragedy into some sort of perspective. The philosophies always had a certain draw; how can anyone deny the implications about God and His providence that the terrible accounts of the Nazi horrors seemed to make? As a microcosm, the Holocaust contains all the important existential questions that a thinking, feeling human (and certainly a Jew) must ask about his Creator. But these questions carried with them a certain danger, as well. In my teenage years, the Holocaust served as a convenient peg to hang all of my rebellious behavior upon. Unjustifiably, I would point my finger toward the past, as if to say that the experiences that my grandfather went through at the hands of cruel humans who God allowed to mercilessly slaughter millions of Jews (and others) gave me license to disobey His divine Word. The irony of such a stance gradually became clearer as I matured, and witnessed those who actually went through the war, suffered, and yet continued to be faithful God fearing Jews. Some (like my grandfather, who should live and be well) even attributed the Holocaust to being an event that buttressed their faith, spurring them to become more religious, to affirm and uphold their beliefs with untold sacrifice of their own well being, in order to ensure that they survive and rebuild.

Only the hubris of youthful pseudo-intellectualism can view this dichotomy of the survivor's fervor and steadfastness vis-a-vis the one or two-generation removed descendant's rebellion in the name of the Holocaust, and not be bothered by the contradiction. This is only brought into very clear perspective by the below mini-documentary, which follows three generations (father-son-grandson) and their approach to the Holocaust.


This film disheartened me so much when I first saw it. The elderly survivor clearly recognizes the unseen Hand that guided him throughout the war, protecting him at every turn. His son and grandson, on the other hand, get lost in a cloud of confusion as they try to come to terms with something they didn't even experience, let alone relate to.

Another thing that was taught to me at a very early age was not to judge any survivor's personal life choices. While various teachers of mine shunned writers like Elie Wiesel and denigrated Nazi hunter Simon Wiesenthal as mechalelei Shabbat (Sabbath desecrators), we were taught that what they lived through was beyond our comprehension; to lambaste them for who they became as a result was not only disrespectful, it was disgraceful. Each in their own way, these men (and women) are honoring their fellow victims to the best of their capabilities. Their religiosity is a matter between them and God, with few others possessing the right to intervene, certainly not us.

The generation of survivors is slowly dwindling; my grandfather is the last remaining grandparent that I have today. Now, as he begins to approach the end of his days (until 120, amen), he has become more forthcoming with his own experiences. I find myself listening intently when I visit him; sometimes he is lucid, and his accounts hold me at attention. Other times, he rambles, a symptom of his age. Either way, I listen, because that is what we must do - listen, and bear witness for them when they no longer can.

A powerful lesson from Purim

From the writings of Rav Eliyahu Eliezer Dessler, an exhortation concerning the importance of emunat chachamim (faith in the Sages). I learned this piece last week in anticipation of the chag, and decided to utilize the splendid translation of Rabbi Aryeh Carmell.

In response to his correspondent's argument that the Holocaust could have been substantially avoided had the European rabbis encouraged their communities to emigrate to the Holy Land en masse, Rav Dessler uses this opportunity to broaden his explanation of the necessity for emunat chachamim. Whereas in his earlier writings he lambasted our proclivity for forming ill-informed opinions and criticized this development as undermining an essential aspect of Torah-true Judaism, Rav Dessler develops that idea here to an even further extent: when we are presented with "facts" that all point toward the "faults" of our Elders.

To buttress his argument, Rav Dessler writes the following, in the name of his own teacher, the Alter of Kelm, Rav Simcha Zissel (emphases mine):

Megillat Esther is a record of events covering a period of nine years, from the third to the twelfth years of the reign of Achashverosh. We, and maybe even greater people than we, would never have been able to understand that all these apparently unrelated events really formed one related series. Only Mordechai, with the benefit of ruach hakodesh at his level (for not all levels of ruach hakodesh are equal), was able to discern the unity underlying these events. 

Mordechai had forbidden the Jews to attend the banquet of Achashverosh with which the Megilla opens. This is explained in the Midrash Megillat Esther: " 'At the completion of these days' (Esther 1:5) - he (Mordechai) said to them, 'Do not go...so that the Adversary shall not have an occasion to accuse you'; but they did not listen to him." (see also Megilla 12a) There were certainly many who must have argued against him, saying that this was a matter of life and death; an irresponsible king like Achashverosh might well take it into his head to kill all Israel (God forbid) if he were to see that representatives of every nation attended the feast celebrating the third anniversary of his accession, while not a single Jew deigned to appear. For this reason they refused to obey Mordechai's command and they went to the banquet. Nothing bad happened to them as a result.  

Nine years later (in the twelfth year of Achashverosh), when Haman had been elevated to the highest position in the state and had issued orders that all should bow down to him - and our Rabbis explain that there was no real question of idolatry involved, only a rather far-fetched fear that it might "look like" idolatry - Mordechai refused to bow down.

There were many Jews who protested that he was endangering the lives of all Israel because of excessive personal piety, as is made clear in Aggadat Esther: "Israel said to him (Mordechai): 'You should know that you will bring about our death by the sword of that wicked one (Haman).' But he replied to them: 'What then, should I bow to an idol?' and he refused to accept their words." 

And immediately after this, everything happened exactly as Mordechai's opponents had feared: an edict was issued by Haman decreeing the destruction of all the Jews. If we had been there what would we have said? What was the "cause" of the decree? Was it Mordechai's obstinacy in a matter affecting the safety of Klal Yisrael? Or was it that nine years previously some people had ruled leniently and - for the best of motives - disobeyed a rabbinical injunction forbidding them to partake of Achashverosh's banquet, their motive having been to avoid endangering the lives of Klal Yisrael? We should certainly have said that we could see with our own eyes that it was Mordechai's action that had caused Haman to get angry and decree the destruction of all the Jews, and how can anyone deny the evidence of his own eyes? 

But the truth is otherwise. 

What appeared to be the indisputable evidence of the senses was in fact an illusion created by the yetzer ha-rah; the true cause was the sin committed nine years earlier. 

(It may be that Mordechai's decision to endanger himself for something which was no more than a possibility of an appearance of idolatry, an an unlikely one at that, was taken in response to the needs of the time - to impress on the people the gravity of any contact with idolatry. In this way he would correct the mistake they had made earlier o the occasion of the banquet, when they had taken lightly the prohibition against non-Jewish wine, which is itself connected with the prohibition of idolatry. Moreover, the Gemara suggests that the reason for the decree of annihilation was that they had bowed down to the image in the time of Nevuchadnetzar, although they had done it only for outward show. So by this act [refusing to bow down even in a case where according to the halacha it was permitted] Mordechai was actually protecting them [in a spiritual sense, by endeavoring to redress the balance].) 

But the yetzer ha-rah enticed them with the strongest of all arguments - "the evidence of their own eyes"; and this was why the attribute of Justice won the day and the decree was promulgated. But as soon as this happened they revised their opinions and admitted the truth. They might well have retained their former views and taken vengeance on Mordechai as a traitor to his people, but instead of this, they all followed him and responded to his call for repentance.
The fact that Esther, whom they knew to be a close relative of Mordechai, chose just this hour of terrible danger to her people to show friendship to the archenemy Haman by inviting him twice to a private banquet, would tend to reinforce the arguments of Satan that they should no longer listen to Mordechai. but they had returned to God in complete repentance and no longer listened to the yetzer ha-rah. On the contrary, they joined with Mordechai in fasting and prayer and in repentance for the sin they had committed by following the illusion of the "evidence of the senses"; and then the miracle happened; then they were saved. 

From here we can learn the answer to the question of what brings about murderous decrees upon Israel: the "mistakes" of the great Torah authorities of the generations, or our own willingness to listen to the wiles of the Satan and the illusory "evidence" he parades before our eyes so that we lose our faith in the Sages. And if the disaster comes and the destruction spreads, God forbid, this only shows that people have not repented; on the contrary, they still deny their teachers. 

Our Rabbis say that punishment commences with the tzaddikim, for they are punished for the sins of the generation...but if even this does not lead to repentance, a still greater desecration of God's name is involved. Rashi says in Yoma that desecration results from the very facts of the destruction of the righteous and the exile of Israel, for everyone says, "What did their righteousness avail them? See how misfortune overtakes even the pious and the wise!"
Such is the way of all those who move away from the truth; they love to show "by the evidence of the senses" that the tzaddikim perish in their righteousness. They could have pointed to Mordechai, too, as one whose excessive piety caused his downfall - but they did teshuva...[t]he way of Klal Yisrael is to return to Hashem, to admit the truth and to abandon the illusions of "evidence" presented by the yetzer ha-rah to induce one to deny one's teachers.
Lack of self-effacement toward our Rabbis is the root of all sin and the beginning of all destruction, God forbid. All merits are as nothing compared with that root of spiritual progress - faith in the Sages. - Strive for Truth! (pp. 219-223)

Entering Into Adar

This is a shiur that Rav Moshe Weinberger gave several years ago at Derech HaMelech, a wonderful yeshiva in Jerusalem.

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Rav Weinberger discusses the importance of prayer, and Amalek's main strategy in trying to destroy us. As always, it's worth listening to.

Today is the yahrtzeit (anniversary of death) of my grandmother Liba bas Reb Tzvi, of blessed memory. She passed away nearly ten years ago after struggling for well over a decade with an illness that the doctors predicted she would survive through several months. She was an amazing woman, with an indomitable will to survive even the harshest of circumstances. She made it a point to tell others about her experiences in the holocaust, as a testimony and as an education for future generations.

Please have her in mind today during your learning and tefillot, so her neshama can merit an aliyah.

Apologies...

I received some pretty harsh e-mails responding to my posting of a YouTube video parodying a scene from a World War II movie featuring Adolf Hitler, in which the original subtitles were replaced with a rant about the Lakewood yeshiva system.

As Reb Y. commented, it's in very bad taste, and I regret posting the video. The truth is, I don't know why I decided to publish the video; to try and find a reasonable explanation after the fact would cheapen my words, and would insult my readers' intelligence.

Instead, I am apologizing.

I am sorry if anyone was insulted or hurt by this video.

Most of us know at least a few people who went through the horror of the Nazi death machine, and so many years later, the Holocaust is still a painful subject. I should know better. None of my grandparents would be laughing at this, despite the fact that the video makes a mockery of an enemy of Israel.

Again, please forgive me for my callousness.

"Children, remember..."

From the Aliyah Blog, a transcription of a beautiful story from Rebbe Shlomo that carries significant weight with me, as it is the first introduction I had to Reb Kalonymos Kalman (kudos to my friend Neil Harris for pointing me in its direction):

The Holy Hunchback

By Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach zt”l

In the Warsaw ghetto there was a Rebbe, the heiliger Reb Klonimus Kalman. He wrote a book and knowing prophetically that he would not survive, he put the manuscript under one of the stones in the ghetto where it was found after the war.   

He had a yeshiva not of young people but of children. He was accustomed to say, “My followers eat on Yom Kippur. You know why-they are not bar mitzvah yet.” A great Rabbi would come to him, or an old man and a little girl of four or five. He would say to the older man, “You’ll make it without me. This child needs me.” With older people he would spend five minutes; with children all night. He had thousands of kids. He was their father, their mother, their best friend. After the war, there was nobody left.

My whole life I was hoping and dreaming to see one of these people. A few years ago I was walking on the Yarkon in Tel Aviv and I saw a hunchback -a street cleaner. Do you know that sometimes we are all little prophets? Our heart tells us something. I had a feeling this person was special. He was a real hunchback. That as his face was very handsome, but every part of his body was disfigured. And I said to him. “Hey, shalom aleichem my friend.” And he answered me in a very heavy Polish-Yiddish Hebrew, “Aleichem shoolum.” I said to him in Yiddish, “Mein zeisse yid, my sweet yiddele, where are you from?” He said, “I’m from Piaseczna .” I said “Piaseczna . Gevalt! Did you ever see Reb Klonimus Kalman?” “What do you mean, did I ever see him? I was a student in his yeshiva from the age of five to eleven. I was in Auschwitz for five years. I was eleven when I got there. They thought I was seventeen; I was so strong. They beat me up so much I never healed. That’s why I look this way. I have nobody in the whole world, really nobody, ” I said to him, “You know something-my whole life I have been waiting to meet one of the students of Reb Klonimus Kalman, Would you be so kind to give me over one of his teachings?” He kept on sweeping the street, “You really think that after five years in Auschwitz, I remember the teachings?” I said, “Yes-the words of the heileger Rebbe penetrate you forever.”

He stopped sweeping. He looked at me and said, “Do you really want to know?” He touched me so deeply and although you shouldn’t swear, I said to him “I swear to you, and I mean it with all my heart, that whatever you tell me I shall tell all over the world.” You know he was a real chasidisher Yid, so he put the broom against a wall and went to wash his hands. And this is what he said: “There will never be a Shabbos as by my holy master, my heiliger Rebbe. Can you imagine -hundreds, sometimes thousands of young people dancing with the holy rebbe in the middle. What a sight! Not until Meshiach is coming. Can you imagine the Rebbe making kiddush sitting with hundreds of children with so much holiness. He gave over teachings between the fish and the soup, between the soup and the meat, between the meat and the dessert and after every teaching, he would always say, “Kinderlach, taire kinderlach, my most precious children, gedenkst shon, remember, die greste sach in die velt ist, tun emetzin a tova. Children, precious children, just remember the greatest thing in the world is to do somebody else a favor. ”

When I came to Auschwitz, 1 knew my whole family had been killed and I wanted to kill myself. Each time I was about to, I suddenly heard the Rebbe’s voice saying to me, “Gedenkst shon, the greatest thing in the world is to do somebody else a favor.” Do you know how many favors you do in Auschwitz late at night? People dying, people crying; nobody had the strength even to listen to their stories anymore. I would be up all night. A few weeks later I wanted to kill myself again but always at the last moment I’d hear my Rebbe’s voice. Now I’m here in Tel Aviv, but believe me, I’m all alone, There are moments when I decide to commit suicide. I go into the sea until the water reaches my nose. Then suddenly I hear my Rebbe’s voice again and I just can’t permit myself to do it and I run back to the streets. Do you know how many favors you can do on the street?”

My friends, this was before Rosh Hashana. After Succos I came back to Israel and the first morning I went to the Yarkon and I asked the people on that street corner where the hunchback was. They said he died on the second day of Succos.

Listen to me, my beautiful friends, when the Meshiach comes, when all the holy people will come back to the world and the holy hunchback, the holy street cleaner will come back. He will clean the streets of the world. Do you know how he will clean the world? He will go from one corner of the world to the other and he will say, “Yiddelach, gedenkst shon, the greatest thing in the world is to do somebody else a favor.”

Today is the yahrtzeit of my grandfather, Reb Eliezer ben R' Yitzchak Chaim A"H. He died five years ago, out of the blue, and I still miss him terribly.

PLease try to have him in mind during your tefillot (prayers) and learning throughout the day.

לזכרון עולם

הרה"צ קלונימוס קלמן בהרה"צ אלימלך זצוק"ל הי"ד

אדמור דק"ק פיסצנא

"בעל הספרי קודש "חובת התלמידים" "הכשרת אבריכים" "מבוא השערים" "צו וזירוז" "בני מחשבה טובה" "דרך המלך" 

"ו"אש קודש 

נפטר על קידוש השם ד' ר"ם חשון התש"ד

זכותו יגן עלינו

Rav Moshe Weinberger on The Holocaust, Tzfat, and Rebbe Nachman

I meant to post this on the second day of Chol HaMoed, which is Rebbe Nachman's yahrtzeit (anniversary of death), but I didn't have a chance and it got lost in the shuffle.

Enjoy this *little* speech by Rav Weinberger given at a benefit dinner several years ago: