Over the years, we have, b’chasdei Hashem, dedicated this space during Chanukah to share and uncover secrets, mysteries and enigmas relating to these days.
These have varied from the complex – e.g. why there is no mention of Chanukah in al hamichya; the historical –e.g. sourcing the story of Yehudis; and even the mystical –e.g. is there really an issur of blowing out candles?
This year, I wish to share the background to another puzzling element of Chanukah, one that speaks directly to the purpose, and name, of this column.
Every yom tov has a ‘Shul’, or communal, element peculiar to it alone. For example, the first days’ nightly hallel’s recital –reserved for the hagada – is said by many in Shul as well as a part of, or following, maariv; only on Sukkos do we find a yom tov’s special mitzvah (the daled minim) carry an element that can only be done in a shul (the hakafos; on Shavous our batei midrashim are filled with the sound of, and the morning’s re-acceptance in, Hashem’s Torah.
Chanukah is no exception to this pattern.
Imagine if on Pesach night, after davening, the rav announces that the shul will say the hagada together first, before we all go home and perform it as a family.
How odd this would be! The mitzvah on Pesach night is hagadita l’bincha –to say over the story at home, with one’s children – not in shul to ourselves!
Why then on Chanukah –whose lighting requirement is ner ish u’beiso, davka on the home – do we light the menorah in shul?
There is an important corollary to our question. Chazal state (Sukkah 44b) that although we can make a beracha on a mitzvah/chiyuvderabanan (Shabbos 23a) we do not –and can not –make a beracha on a minhag.
This minhag of lighting in shul in not even found in the gemara. While the rishonim make clear that lighting in shul is a “minhagvasikin –a devout/precious custom” (shu’t Rivash 111, see below) – would not its beracha be a berachal’vatala?!
Let us explore the background to this unusual minhag, and the numerous explanations for it that have been given through the centuries.
II.
The History
While I do not know precisely when this minhag began, I can surmise that it first became universal at some point after the mid 1300’s. In the late 14th century, the rav of Granada, Spain, Rav Amram, wrote to Rav Yitzchak ben Sheshes (d.1408) with eighteen questions. These shalios ran the gamut from queries relating to serious matters of marriage, money and death (shu’t Rivah 102-119).
His tenth question was this rav’s concern over the minhag of lighting the menorah in shul, and with a beracha. We will quote the Rivash’s response below.
It is then likely that this minhag, although peformed by some some time before this, was just then becoming popular.
III.
The Reasons and their Complications
Rav Yosef Karo, in his Beis Yosef (siman 671), bring several ways to explain this minhag of lighting the menorah in shul –and with a beracha – including the answer the Rivash provided to Rav Amram.
We will list each of his reasons –as well as further suggestions brought by other poskim –below, along with some of the difficulties in each:
– Two years before Rav Yosef Karo was born in 1488, a likut of halacha, titled Kol Bo was published, whose author is today unknown. Rav Karo brings from here (siman 44) that there is nothing so novel about this minhag. Similar to how chazal instruct us to make kiddush Friday night in shul (Pesachim 100b) for the orchim (guests) and the aniyim (poor), we do the same for them in shul on Chanukah. The Levush (ibid.), Tanya Rabasi (35) and the Shiblei Haleket (185) also give this reason.
There are many difficulties with this approach. First, when it comes to the comparison to kiddush in shul Friday night, Rav Karo himself rules (siman 407:2) that on Pesach night we do not make kiddush in shul because the community is required to provide every poor person with wine to perform this mitzvah at home. The same would apply to Chanukah whose mitzvah is at home! In fact, Rav Amram and the Rivash –although living before the Shulchan Aruch – both make this argument so as to dismiss this first approach!
However, if one looks at some of the sources who offer this approach to the minhag the they add the fact that these poor people are sleeping in the shul, making it their guest-house for the nights of Chanukah. This explains not just why we light, but why a beracha is would be required.
But this begs the question: today, when there are no guests in shul, why do we still light?
This same question is asked by many regarding kiddush in shul Friday night: since there are no longer poor people or guests staying in the shul, how is this Kiddush -with no seudah to follow –still being performed?
However, the poskim (see, e.g. Mishna Berrura 269:5, inter alia) offer a number of rationales for this practice. Amazingly, the 13th century shu’t Min Hashamoyim (siman 25) compares our ability to still make kiddush in shul with our ability to also light Chanukah lights with a beracha even though, in both cases there are no guests who need it!
2- Next, Rav Yosef Karo brings another answer from the Kol Bo. We light in shul, and with berachos, to lay before the congregation the way to light and the order of the berachos.
The fact that we would be allowed to recite a Beracha for such a need would make sense, similar to teaching a child to make a Beracha where Hashem’s name may be used (see, e.g. Shulchan Aruch 196:19).
3-Finally, he brings the answer that the Rivash gave to Rav Amram: the reader may recall that last year we dedicated this space to discuss the minhag to still light indoors even though the danger seems to have passed. The Rivash suggests, that whatever the reason we no longer light outside, we still need a public display, a true pirsum haness, and shul provides this.
This explanation brings with it many questions that are beyond the scope of this column (see, e.g. Igros Mosheoh’c 1:107 and Minchas Shlomo 2:51), but the most salient issue with this response is why make a Beracha? It is still but a minhag –even if to be mefarsem haness! To make matters even more confounding, the Shulchan Aruch itself rules (siman 422:2) –as is the minhag sefardim – that on Rosh Chodesh one does not make a Beracha on hallel as it is but a minhag!
Rav Yaakov Emdin (Mor U’Ketziasiman 672) answers that on Chanukah the berachos themselves are a part of the mitzvah of pirsum haness!
The rosh yeshiva of Lakewood, Rav Yerushum Olshin (Yerach l’Moadim, p. 194-195) gives an additional explanation how according to the view that we light in shuls simply because of the extra minhag of pirssumhaness we can then also make a beracha. Based on the words of the Brisker Rav, he demonstrates that only a stand-alone minhag (like aravah) do we not a beracha on; however, a minhag that is represented by the action of a pre-existing mitzvah (such as lighting the menorah), we can!
This explanation would seem to fit with the words of the Vilna Gaon. He explains our lighting with a beracha in shul on Chanukah as being similar to ur making a Beracha on hallel on Pesach night in shul. We may explain this connection as both hallel and hadlakos neros chanukah as being a cheftza shel mitzvah –a pre-existing commandment, even if now we are doing that same action/recital as a minhag.
–Finally -but by no means exhaustive! – Rav Moshe Shternbuch (MoadimU’Zmanim 8:89) suggests a novel understanding of this minhag of lighting in shul. Originally, the gezeira for Chanukah was just to hodos u’l’hallel. Indeed, in maoz tzur there is no mention of our lighting. Only later, when the beis hamikdosh was destroyed did chazal then institute a public lighting outside our homes. However, due to danger, we had to move that lighting inside. And so, as to retain a semblance of a public lighting –as chazal first established after the churban –did we then also choose to light in shul so as to retain a veneer of the original, public, mitzvah.
There is much more to say on this topic –many more explanations to the minhag, and many more ramifications to each approach.
But for now, let us end as we always end the Chanukah column –there are so many secrets in even the minhagim of klal yisreol!
Over the past decade, we have often singled out the week after Thanksgiving to discuss many of the questions that surround this secular day – such as the halachic issues involved in its celebration, the kashrus of turkey, and the etymology/shoresh for the name of this fowl in many laguages –e.g. turkey/indik/ hodu.
This year, I wish to share something both lighter and fascinating.
Sarah Halen (d. 1879) is most famous today for composing Mary Had a Little Lamb. But she is also responsible for making Thanksgiving an accepted national holiday in all states when she convinced Lincoln of its virtue (he also saw it as a way to unify the country after the Civil War).
In one of her many editorials arguing for its permanence in our calendar, she writes, “The noble annual feast day of our Thanksgiving resembles, in some respects, the Feast of Pentecost, which was, in fact, the yearly season of Thanksgiving with the Jews”
While some wish to argue that Thanksgiving is not a religious day –and therefore issues of bchukoseohem lo seileichu do not enter the equation – historically this is grossly inaccurate (I refer only to its religious nature, if this also then makes it assur is up to each reader’s posek).
Indeed, when Washington issued the first such proclamation in 1789, he stated:
“Whereas it is the duty of all Nations to acknowledge the providence of A-mighty Gd, to obey his will, to be grateful for his benefits, and humbly to implore his protection and favor…
“…Now therefore I do recommend and assign Thursday the 26th day of November next to be devoted by the People of these States to the service of that great and glorious Being, who is the beneficent Author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be…”
Later presidents would issue similar proclamations, only varying in formalities and dates. In fact, Jefferson was the first president to not issue any such Thanksgiving proclamation…precisely because he did not believe in Divine intervention, R’l!
In fact, the religious connotation to this ‘secular’ holiday goes all the way back to the ‘thanksgiving story’. William Bradford –who arrived on the Mayflower and would serve as the Governor of Plymouth Colony – came with a bible and had the passengers read psalm 107 upon their arrival.
Amazingly, the following Rambam (!) is written in this bible in English:
“And from this Psalme, and this verse of it, the Hebrues have this
Canon; Foure must confess (unto God) The sick, when he is healed;
the prisoner when he is released out of bonds; they that goe down to
sea, when they are come up (to land); and wayfaring men, when they
are come to the inhabited land. And they must make confession before
ten men, and two of them wise men, Psal. 107. 32. And the manner of
confessing and blessing is thus; He standeth among them and blesseth
the Lord, the King eternal, that bounteously rewardeth good things
unto sinners, etc. Maimony in Misn. Treat. Of Blessings, chap. 10,
sect. 8.”!
Mary Hale and William Bradford’s connection to Yiddeshkeit’sthemes were not lost on the public. For many years after Washington passed away, one Orthodox Rabbi’s Thanksgiving sermon was often found re-published in local papers.
Rabbi Gershom Seixes served as the preacher and guide (semicha did not yet fully exist on these shores) to the famed Spanish-Portuguese Synagogue in New York City (a shul still extant today).
We discussed his amazing life and dedication to Torah, as well as to his new country, at great length this past summer.
Leaving aside for now the halachic issues invloved, the very first Thanksgiving after Washington’s Thanksgiving Declaration, Seixes delivered remarks in his shul that were published that year and years after in the local (non-Jewish) papers.
Amazingly, some contemporaneous accounts report that they even omitted tachanun in his shul on that day!
Here is an excerpt from the first famous Thanksgiving Day Sermon, that just happened to be given by a frum leader:
“In considering the duties we owe to ourselves and the community to which we belong, it is necessary that we, each of us in our respective stations, behave in such a manner as to give strength and stability to the laws entered into by our representatives; to consider the burden imposed on those who are appointed to act in the Executive Department; and to contribute, as much as lays within our power, to the support of that government which is founded upon the strict principles of equal liberty and justice…
“If, to seek the peace and prosperity of the city wherein we dwell, be a duty even under bad governments, what must it be when we are situated under the best of Constitutions? It behooves us to unite, with cheerfulness and uprightness, upon all occasions that may occur in the political as well as the moral world, to promote that which has a tendency to the public good. As Jews, we are even more than others, called upon to return thanks to God for placing us in such a country – where we are free to act according to the dictates of conscience, and where no exception is taken from following the principles of our religion.
“…And lastly to conclude, my dear brethren and companions, it is incumbent on us as Jews, in a more special manner, seeing that we are the chosen and special treasure of God, to be more circumspect in our conduct – inasmuch as we are this day, living examples of His Divine Power and Unity. So may we be striking examples to the nations of the earth, as it is mentioned in Sacred Scripture: ‘Ye shall be unto Me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation!” For this purpose, let me then recommend to you a serious consideration of the several duties set forth this Day: to enter into a self-examination; to relinquish your prejudices against each other; to subdue your passions; to live as Jews ought to do – in brotherhood and amity with all our neighbors, ‘to seek peace and pursue it.’ So shall it be well with us, both here and hereafter, which God in His infinite mercy, will grant to us all!”
Whatever our halachic views toward Thanksgiving may be, the closing sentiment of this drasha is still critical for all of us today.
We must show thanks to Hashem for placing us here, have daily hakaras hatov to our government, and all the while remember that we are still in galus so as to only seek to make a Kiddush Hashem.
On July 26, 2013, The Wall Street Journal published a story about the ethical dilemmas facing Google and other companies working on “driverless cars.” It is only a matter of time before these cars, which are already being tested, are on the road. The cars have computers with built-in algorithms that are designed to respond to any scenario—a speeding car, oncoming traffic, yellow lights, bikers.
But how should they be programmed to respond when faced with a choice that has no clear moral authority? What if a driverless car needs to choose between swerving so as to avoid a crowd and plowing into a smaller group of people?
Several years ago I came across a book by Harvard professor Michael J. Sandel, who has invested a great deal of time and effort exploring the subject of justice as it pertains to these intriguing, often disturbing, ethical dilemmas. His bestselling book Justice: What’s the Right Thing to Do? is a fascinating study of our moral compass and how we might handle the many situations he paints on the canvas of “What if?” His thinking has inspired many, which is evident from the fact that a video of one of his lectures pulled in over five million viewers.
As I read parts of his book, I thought not so much about how I would deal with these situations but about what halachah would say.
One of his dilemmas mirrors the problem Google is now facing. Let us briefly review it, consider his students’ response, and discover an inherent contradiction that it presents. We will then review the halachic key to both the dilemma and the contradiction.
A writer for TheAtlantic Monthly discusses a lecture given by Sandel, who presented this scenario: “Suppose you’re the driver of a trolley car, and your trolley car is hurtling down the track at 60 miles an hour. You notice five workers working on the track. You try to stop but you can’t because your brakes don’t work. You know that if you crash into these five workers, they will all die. You feel helpless until you notice that off to the side, there’s a side track. And there’s one worker on the side track.
“The question: Do you send the trolley onto the side track, thus killing the one worker but sparing the five, or do you let events unfold as they will and allow the deaths of all five?”
Then Sandel asked about a popular variation of the problem. “The same trolley is careening toward unsuspecting innocents, but this time you’re an onlooker on a footbridge, and you notice that standing next to you, leaning over the bridge, is a very heavy man.
“You could give him a shove. He would fall over onto the track, right in the way of the trolley car. He would die, but he would spare the five. How many would push the [heavy] man over the bridge?”
A few hands went up.
“And that’s exactly why,” Sandel concluded, “some scientists argue that this well-known ‘trolley dilemma’ shouldn’t be used for psychology experiments as much as it is.”
How could it be, many scientists wonder, that while most people would cause the trolley to veer, only 11 percent would push the man to save the many? Don’t they both involve the very same moral dilemma?
Many explanations have been offered, none of which satisfied me. However, halachic historymay hold the key to this inconsistency.
ShmuelII (20) tells us that Serach bas Asher, who was 684 years old, made a deal with Dovid Hamelech’s general that instead of killing many of the inhabitants of her town, they would kill the one man who was guilty of rebelling against the king—Sheva ben Bichri—and deliver his head. From here it is derived that one may hand over one (guilty) person to the authorities to be killed in order to save many (innocents). The Gemara2 debates whether this principle would apply in a case where handing over an innocent person would save the lives of many.3
The Rambam rules famously4 that one may hand over only a guilty person in order to save the many. Many disagree with Rambam, and indeed, Rama5 mentions both views.
The TzitzEliezer cites a discussion found in the writings of the Chazon Ish,6 who wonders about a case strikingly similar to the trolley scenario. If an arrow is heading toward a group of people and will certainly kill them, and one has the opportunity to divert it so that it will kill only one person, what should he do?
Much of the halachic discussion hinges upon how action is defined. As we know from hilchos Shabbos, not all actions are equal. There are gramas, koach sheni, psik reisha, and others—various forms of indirect or noncommittal action, not all of which are actually deemed actions by Torah law.
The Chazon Ish suggests that one who diverts the arrow can consider this not as the killing of one but as the saving of many. In other words, it is not comparable to handing a person over to be killed because the diversion of the trolley/arrow can be viewed as a unique manipulation of the laws of physics in order to save people. The ultimate result of this act of salvation may not be our concern.
Yet the Chazon Ish was hesitant; after all, the case of the trolley/arrow may be worse in that we are causing death by our action, as opposed to simply handing someone over to death. There is no precedent to allow actually killing someone!7
The TzitzEliezer is more certain. He proves that inaction, the principle of “Shev v’al taaseh (sit and do nothing),” is better, implying that in such a case, an “error” of omission is always safer than one of commission.
Returning to Dr. Sandel’s trolley paradox presented in The Atlantic Monthly, perhaps inherent in our moral compass is the sense that flicking a switch—similar to handing someone over—is much less of a concern than actually murdering someone with our own hands in order to save others. One is an act of murder, while the other is closer to an indirect result.
It would seem that the Chazon Ish would agree that pushing the man over the bridge to stop the trolley would be forbidden, and that it is certainly different from the original scenario, in which the choice would be to divert the path of the trolley.8
Based on halachic compartmentalization, then, it appears that there is really no inconsistency in this moral dilemma and that the students at Harvard were on to something when they differentiated between hitting a switch and pushing a man.
(According to some,9 non-Jews must look to halachah as their guide in determining how to observe the sheva mitzvos bnei Noach. Perhaps, then, Hashem implanted in their psyches a moral sense that enables them to inherently feel what may take us years of study.)
Sadly, in Dr. Sandel’s brilliant book on ethical dilemmas, I saw not one mention of the Talmud. It is my hope that Dr. Sandel, who is a Jew, will someday discover the beauty and realism that is halachah—and the heritage that no doubt imbued him with the exquisite sensitivity with which he has been marveling at the world.
As for driverless cars, perhaps, like many modern ovens, they will one day come with a “halachah mode”!
NOTES
Shu”t Tzitz Eliezer 15:70.
Yerushalmi, Temurah, ch. 8; see also Tosefta there, 7:23.
The Gemara only discusses handing over the one to save the many but not killing him with one’s own hands. Perhaps, as the Chazon Ish posits, this is due to Sheva’s rebellion against the king, which was a unique case and for which crime the townspeople could even have killed him themselves.
Yesodei HaTorah 5:5.
Yoreh Deah, siman 157.
Choshen Mishpat, Sanhedrin 25.
Unless that someone is the very person trying to save the many himself. See Taanis 18b with Rashi regarding the story of Paypus and Lolnus.
See also Shu”t Teshuvos V’hanhagos 3:358. See Ramban
Ramban to ParshasVayeishlach and Shu”tRama 10. When Yaakov’s sons go out to return Dina they kill every male in the city (ibid. verse 20). Ramban wonders how such righteous men like Shimon and Levi could kill what would appear as innocents. He first quotes Rambam (hilchosmelachaim 4:9) who states that non-Jews who transgress or fail to fulfill any of their seven mitzvos deserve the death penalty (sayeph). Ramban disagrees, challenging Rambam that if he is correct wouldn’t Yaakov –not only not later reprimand Shimon and Levi (ibid. 30) –but would have, indeed, been the first one there to kill members of the city?! Ramban then posits a different reading of the Rambam’s source for his view (Sanhadrin 57a) and says: “…They (non-Jews) are commanded in the laws of geneiva, v’ona’ah, v’oshek, v’shcar sechir, v’dinei hashomirim, v’oness, umephateh, v’avos nezikin, v’chovel b’chaveiro, v’dinei malveh v’loveh, v’dinei mekech u’memchar, and similar matters, ‘k’inyan’ the laws of the Jewish people.”
Now, many of the laws that Ramban brought as examples would seem to be unique to Jews, and are certainly not mentioned as any of the Seven Mitzvos. Therefore many understand that Ramban is asserting that the mitzvah demanded upon non-Jews of, say, not stealing, is not a generic term up to them to categorize, rather it must confer with our laws. Meaning, just as Jews have clear definitions of these categories based on the Chazal and the Shulchan Aruch non-Jews too must search these very sources for their definitions, categories, and fines. I would suggest, lulei d’sitapineh, that Ramban may not be saying that at all; rather he is simply stating that their mitzvah of not stealing should not be seen by them as Pollyannaish or pro-forma, instead they must, like us, take these seriously and apply them to the real world, real cases and possibilities. They too need laws of shomrim, workers’ rights, loans and securities, etc. So that he is not suggesting that they must use are categories, per se, and certainly not our very rules, rather they simply need to model themselves after a system of jurisprudence based in the real world.
It is a story of a beracha from the Frideker Rebbe of Chabad;
The words of Torah from Rav Moshe Feinstein;
And, a promise made a century ago to Rav Aaron Kotler.
It is now 5780-1, and these Berachos and promises are now being fulfilled;
And they can grow still ever more…
Personal Preamble
Elul always reminds me of Rav Shlomo Singer.
It is no secret that one of the best and sharpest yeshivashiurim given today is Rav Meir Stern’s brilliant shiur in Yeshiva Gedolah of Passaic.
Aside from the bnei hayeshiva and the yungeleit that attended his daily shiur was one Rav Singer, a retired individual living in Passaic.
For two years –some 20 years ago –I sat mere feet from him, but we never spoke until this summer.
Like the nephews of Rabbi Yochanan Ben Gudgada (see Chagiga 3) who would make sure to sit in front of Rebbe Yehudah Hanassi, Rav Shlomo Singer would sit almost directly in front of the rosh yeshiva with a tape recorder and intently focus on the words being taught.
I was told he was a local retired chazzan, who went by ‘Cantor’ Singer.
I assumed he was a baal teshuva, or someone without a classic yeshiva background who upon retirement asked Rav Stern to attend his shiurim.
Looking back, that (self) explanation made little sense. Young men begged and clawed to get in to this shiur, and even then they had trouble fully understanding it until after a number of reviews.
But Rav Singer did understand the shiur.
How do I know that?
You see, as the zman went on I witnessed this ‘Cantor Singer
do something so different, so revolutionary, that I can honestly say that it has inspired how I act today as a person and as a rav.
When I first saw him do this it blew-my-mind.
Rav Singer was involved in kiruv rechokim, and he has had the privilege of bringing back many to the fold.
But here is what was inimitable: while other kiruv workers give lectures on light topics, or subjects that they think will draw people inside a shul, regardless whether it’s misleading/misinformed or not (‘Kabbala in the 21st Century’, is always popular), he would invite these unaffiliated men inside one of the most prestigious yeshivos in the world and give a class on…Rav Meir Stern’s shiur!
That’s right! He would stand before men who never saw the inside of a chumash – let alone a gemara – and first slowly and carefully explain the gemara under discussion, go-over the points of Rashi or Tosfos or any other rishon that will be needed to understand what was to come.
Then, slowly and painstakingly he would pierce it, drawing their attention to the apparent inconsistencies or chakiros, and finally penetrate the sugya and tie it all together in a bow with the rosh yeshiva’s analysis and explanation of the pertinent achronim.
Rav Chaims; Reb Elchanans; The Ketzos vs. the Nesivos; Rav Barush Ber, etc., nothing real-and-true was off the table.
And, he was successful – he made people frum this way!!!
It was a lesson that while the not-yet-frum may not know a lot of Torah, we err when we treat them as a remedial group.
Years ago, I received a letter from a chashuveh rosh kollel. “I was passing through Buffalo and stopped into your shul for Mincha and Maariv. When you spoke in-between, you talked about deep halachik topics that, while interesting, were likely above the heads of your audience, and not what they needed to hear” he wrote.
Respectfully, and while I understood where he was coming from, he could not have been more wrong. He never saw Rav Singer in action.
Aside for the fact that every member there that night was already frum, even if this rosh kollel assumed they did not have a yeshiva education, they too can understand a ‘Rav Chaim’, they too can see the intellectual marvel of chochmas haTorah. Why should we deprive them of the very thing that gives us the most simchas hachaim – Simchas Torah?!
Why not explain the reason behind the psak? Why not challenge them?
This brings me to Elul. Throughout the year we convince ourselves that we are not at ‘that’ level. We see others, or read about others whose ways are inspiring and the kinas soferim, a healthy jealousy and pining, begins to stir within us.
Elul is when we all attend -metaphorically speaking – Rav Singer’s class. When we all walk into Passaic Yeshiva, don one of those silk-like yarmulkas found in a basket and sit and bask at who we can, one day, become.
‘Taylor’ed Beginnings
R’ Shlomo Singer comes from Torah royalty.
His father, Rav Dovid Yehudah Singer, was a rav in Taylor, Pennsylvania where he sought for many years to spread yiddeshkiet in the early part of the 20th century.
He would soon move his family to Scranton and open a sefarim printing company.
He was a known talmudchacham raising frum children in America (not so common in those days, sadly), and so one day he received a plea from Rav Meir Greenberg.
Rav Meir Greenberg was an emissary of the friedekerrebbe of Chabad. Rav Meir was a massive talmudchacham, and had spent years learning under Rav Shlomo Heiman, and received semicha from Rav Moshe Feinstein.
Rav Meir would later become the rosh yeshiva of the central Chabad yeshiva of Paterson, now in Morristown.
I had the zechus to have met Rav Meir Greenberg on many occasions before his passing. He was a chavrusah with both Rav Shustel and Rav Shisgal zecher tzadikim l’breacha (their nickname in yeshiva was ‘the three musketeers’).
Rav Meir’s son, Rav Heshel Greenberg, a gaon in his own right, has been a rav in Buffalo for many decades, and his father Rav Meir lived with him until his passing. I had the zechus to talk to Rav Meir in learning, and even see his notes on the Chidushei Rav Akiva Eiger, and ask his about the time he received a psak from Rav Menachem Zembah hy’d (alas, I will have to share more about him in another article, iy’H)
In any event, Rav Meir called Rav Singer to plead with him to bring his family and children to New York. Spreading Torah is vital, but now he must make sure his children themselves would become bnei Torah. Before we re-build Torah, we first need bnei Torah!
And so, Rav Singer senior sprung into action, and with no money brought his family to the Lower East Side.
Young Shlomo Zalman was sent to Crown Heights to learn –after all it was the rebbe who had reached out to save them and have them raised as bnei Torah.
Rav Singer recently related to me, “I can still remember bringing the rebbe milk in his study. When I walked in their it was like walking into ganeden! Not just because of the kedusha in the air, but in the rebbe’s smile”
Little Shlomo Zalman’s brother had one of the first Bar Mitzvah’s to ever take place in 770.
“I can still remember being brought with my brother to the rebbe for a beracha. ‘Be a yoreishomyaim and grow in gadlus b’Torah!’ the rebbe said”
It was only a matter of time that young Shlomo Zalman would take advantage of his living location. After spending some time in RJJ, he went to Mesivta Tifferes Yerushalaim, led by Rav Moshe Feinstein, mere blocks from his house.
And so, together with a young Jackie Mason (“Jackie’s father was one of gedolim of the last generation” Rav Singer shared with me) enrolled to learn under Rav Moshe.
“Rav Moshe would always ask Yaakov Moshe (Jackie) to emceeMC events. Rav Moshe loved to see the talmidim happy and laughing”, he shared.
During his time by Rav Moshe Fenstein, he learnt the power of middos tovos and hasmada. When Rav Singer contracted pneumonia, Rav Moshe traveled aline to his house to visit in person! And as for Rav Moshe’s legendary hasmada, Rav Singer –being close friends with Rav Reuvein, would from time-to-time sleep over in the Feinstein’s apartment. To get to the bathroom in the middle of the night, one had to pass by Rav Moshe’s room where he learnt. Once, in the middle of the night he looked in and saw Rav Moshe learning, in a chair without a back, and with his feet in a bucket of ice so he would be able to stay up!
While continually growing in his own learning, and becoming close to (and even sleeping from time-to-time at the home of) Rav Moshe Feinstein, he also kept hearing about this ‘Ari Shel Torah –Lion of Torah’, by the name of Rav Aaron Kotler.
Rav Aaron was a legend of Torah even while still in Europe, and his arrival to America was a watershed moment in Jewish history.
“I wanted to meet him, to see him”.
And one day he got his chance.
Rav Moshe and the entire yeshiva were heading to Boro Park to celebrate in the siyum of another yeshiva.
As Rav Shlomo Zalman was leaving, his friend tugged at his sleeve. “Shlomo! You wanted to meet the Ari Shel Torah? Well, he is right over there waiting for a taxi!”
They ran toward Rav Aaron, grabbed his suitcase, hailed a cab for him, and escorted him into the taxi.
The destination of Rav Aaron mattered little to these two yeshivabachurim; Wherever Rav Aaron was heading, they would follow.
“As soon as I closed the door, and the taxi drove off, I thought to myself, ‘What have I done?! What have I gotten myself into?! He will talk to me in learning! He will see I am nobody in Torah! But he never did, You know why? Because he didn’t want to embarrass or hurt me. Instead, Rav Aaron only asked me personal and sweet questions about my life. And, when he arrived at his destination, he gave a tip to the can driver like you would not believe!”
“So when did you go learn by him?” I asked.
“The next day”!
The Lion Roars
Rav Singer was trying to explain to me who Rav Aaron was.
“Rav Aaron would clean your house, he would polish your shoes, if it meant you would come learn in yeshiva. He was fighting for the very survival of Torah!”
I’ve spoken to Rav Singer many times in preparation for this article, and each time he shares a different event to capture Rav Aaron’s milchama for Torah in America.
“Once, I was in his home when a cousin was mentioned. ‘Where does he go to yeshiva?’ asked Rav Aaron. ‘He doesn’t. He is going to law school in the fall’, I answered. Rav Aaron then asked me to dial his number, and as soon as he came on the phone Rav Aaron quickly grabbed the phone from me. ‘You are coming to yeshiva!’ Rav Aaron ordered into the phone!”!
Each time, another story to illustrate Rav Ahron’s passion for American Torah growth.
In fact, just last month, the OU’s Jewish Action published an interview with Rabbi Berel Wein. He quoted Rav Soloveitchick who told Rabbi Wein that the students he had in the later years were much more proficient in learning than the early days of YU. Rav Soloveitchick said this was all due to Rav Aaron Kotler’s long fight for classic limud Torah in America! (Jewish Action, Fall 5781, p. 58)
Rabbi Singer continued:
“I saw with my own eyes the assimilation at that time. When I first came to Passaic there were ten frum families I saw growing up men with longa burds (long beards) whose kids intermarried, Rachamanal’tzlan!
“Rav Aaron had to ‘kidnap’ people to come to his yeshiva. But he was fighting for our survival. He killed himself! And for what? Look around! Find me a major city without a kollel today!”
Mishnas Rav Singer
While learning in BMG –which at the times had about one-hunded students, everyone would struggle to understand the breadth and depth of Rav Aaron’s shiurim.
Together with Rav Shneur Kotler, Rav Shlomo Singer got a hold of a reel-to-reel recorder, created a surreptitious hole in the ceiling and lowered a microphone.
For some time he recorded the rosh yeshiva’s shiurim, allowing bachurim and yungeleit the amazing opportunity to hear it again and again, until they ‘got it’.
There was one problem. How will they break this news to the roshyeshiva? Perhaps he didn’t want these shiurim recorded.
So, a plan was set. When Purim came around, one of the bachurim went up to a shtender during the yeshiva’s seudah. With Rav Aaron in attendance, this bochur was to give over a drasha or shiur imitating the style and speech patterns of Rav Aaron, all in good humor. What Rav Aaron –and most others- didn’t know, however, is that instead of speaking, they would simply play a recording of one of the secretly taped shiurim with this bachur simply mimicking the gestures of Rav Aaron.
The bachor stood by the shtender and began to ‘speak’. Rav Aaron sat and listened and… was enjoying the Torah! This was not Purim Torah, this was deep stuff! Keep in mind, such recordings were not common in those days, and coming from Kletzk, this technology was not on Rav Aaron’s mind.
Rav Aaron was nodding in agreement and enjoying the Torah, when suddenly it dawned on him that he was listening to himself deliver a shiur!
Rav Aaron put everything together, and did not get upset that his most precious Torah was being recordered. Rather, he made them promise to keep these tapes safe. Today, it is these reel-to-reel tapes that are still utilized by BMG in their production of Rav Aaron’s writings in Mishnas Rav Aaron!
A Promise To Rav Aaron
When Rav Singer was preparing to leave Lakewood, Rav Aaron asked him, “Will you open a yeshiva?”
“No” said Rav Singer.
“Maybe you will enter the rabbinate”
“That too is not for me”, he honestly responded
“Well, what will you do?”
“I will be a chazzan”
“A Chazzan! You can sing! And you never sang for me and the yeshiva!?”
Then Rav Aaron commanded the following: “Wherever you go, whatever shul you work for, you must work to turn that shul into a yeshiva! No balla buss is below learning deeply, with chaburos, in depth b’iyun rabba. It is not enough to make them shomer Shabbos. They must know how to delve into the amkusshel Torah (the truest de;th and brilliance of Torah)!”
“I promised my rebbe” said Rav Singer, now crying. “I promised me rebbe! And forty years ago is when the yeshiva I have today began.”
Rav Singer continued sharing, “I want you to know, this was not my rebbe’s message unique just to me. Rather he told this to everyone who went into rabbanus: ‘A Shul must be a yeshiva! A rav must be a a rosh yeshiva!’”
Rav Singer accomplished a lot in Adas Israel as cantor. This includes serving as the menahel and opening of a Hebrew Day School, under the guidance of Rav Moshe. There he taught many.
“I didn’t care to teach them ‘Bar Mitzvah’ laining and a speech –and I am a chazzan and could have taught them this! Rather I focused on amkus shel torah!Now, so many of these studnetsstudents are in eretz yisoel. Many of these boys came from deeply conservative homes.”
It was over forty years ago is when Rav Singer invited a balla buss Bruce Goldberg to his house on Shabbos for some kugel, cholent and in-depth Gemara.
Soon, the entire dining table was filled with men learning the depth of the yamhatalmud. Then it stretched into the kitchen.
Soon, there were so many attendees; they had to move to his garage.
Eventually, Rav Meir Stern urged Rav Singer to use the yeshiva.
This was close to 25 years ago, when I first saw Rav Singer.
Soon, he realized that he needed his own building.
He told his late wife, “We need a place where people from all backgrounds could attend shiurim and give real chaburos, say chiddushim in Torah, experience the beauty of real learning, each on their own level. In-depth learning for balla battim”.
She got nervous. “How will we pay for the mortgage?”
“But we both understood they that Hashem had a lot of money”
Rebbetzin Ita Singer, was niftar just a few years ago. She was the emotional and financial support for tis yeshiva throughout its early and challenging phases. She also urged a focus on women who need classes and shiurim in depth.
“The address of our new, and first home, was street number 441 Passaic Avenue”, exclaimed Rav Singer.
I started to quickly think what the significance of this number was.
Rav Singer explained, “441 is gematriaemes! How amazing is that!”
He Just Needs a Gemara
Rav Singer has the secret to kiruv: He truly loves every Jew. It drips off of him.
One of his children shared an amazing story. Growing up, their Shabbos table was always graced by Jews of all paths. “A yid is always special” Rav Singer would say.
Once, the Sukkos after 9/11, a young man, maybe twenty years old, arrived for the seudah in their sukkah.
The world was still on edge, and this young man was a committed Leftist. He blamed democracy, Israel, America, etc. for these horrific events, focusing on their ‘treatment’ of Arabs as the cause for their own chosen actions.
“I had enough” one daughter told me. “There has to be limits to can come to our home. It was so soon after 9/11, I simply could not bare taking any more of this man’s childlike view of the world”.
“My father told me, ‘You are wrong. His values may be corrupt but they come from good middos. It is his pinteleh yid for rachmanus that is behind his Leftism.
“You see”, explained Rav Singer, “All he needs is a gemara, to be trained in learning, and he will be an amazing Jew!”
That young man is now married and living in Bnei Brak!!
This love for all Jews, and for their potential, is seen in the shul/yeshiva still today.
VII. Ner Boaruuch/PTI (Passaic Torah Institute)
Today, Rav Singer has a new beautiful building on the way (still at ‘441’), with over 200 balla battim from all backgrounds attending shiurim and learning b’chavrusah per week.
Sure, there is davening, and shaloshseudos on Shabbos, but this shul is the fulfillment of a dream – it is also a yeshiva!
In-depth shiurim Shiurim in-depth are given for different all levels of backgrounds. The attendees prepare chaburos, give over their own chiddushim.
The only difference between their learning style and a yeshiva is that of age.
Rav Baruch Bodenheim –one of Rav Singer’s son-in-laws –is the accsosiate rosh yeshiva at PTI, along with a group of talented maggideishiurim.
“I want you to know” says Rav Singer, “This is not created just for those new to Torah. What will be of the kollelyungerman who leaves the walls of the beismidrash to go to work? What? He will learn the daf? That’s great, but what of the amkus of Torah, its true depth and simcha?!”
He continued, “When I would speak to Rav Yaakov Kamanetzky about my idea, he too would scream ‘Lomdus! Its all about lomdus!’”
As his rebbetzin urged, Rav Singer also has a slew of classes and shiurim for of all backgrounds, housed in a separate place. This women’s learning program is called Ateres Beracha/Nvei TTI.
I could spend the rest of the article speaking about Ner Baruch/PTI, but this is not what Rav Singer wants.
“I am 86 years old. I have to spread the message that every shul can be a yeshiva! We have to share with the world the sweetness of amkus haTorah! This is what I promised my rebbe, Rav Aaron.”
On this last point, a video spread around after this past year’s Tisha B’Av.
It was the renowned rav Rav Zev Leff speaking to his shul by kinnos.
“A rav in Pasaaic, Rav Shlomo Singer, he has a shul where the balla battim learn, but not just stam learning daf yomi, or learning something peripheral, but learning mammashb’omek. Ad kdei kach, that these balla battim write chaburos! And, they are mechedesh chiddushim!
“And he feels that this is something that is crucial. Torah b’amkus is not just for bneihayeshiva, but every shul should be like a yeshiva.
“I heard this not just from him, but from Rav Mordechai Schapiro zt’l, that Rav Aaron said every shul should be a yeshiva.
“A shul should be a yeshiva!”
I should here make the obvious point, that all of the above is not, chalilla, to disparage dafhayomi (which I myself do), rather to challenge ourselves if in addition to that general crucial knowledge, if we need to go deeper.
The Dream
Rav Singer shared with me, “Many years ago, when Torah Umesroah was successful in placing Day Schools all across the country, they held a special event in Lakewood.
“Principals from North Carolina, Tennessee, and all over the country came. While the goal was to give a mazaltov and mach ah shehechiyanu, the principles arriving looked despondent.
“I mean, put yourself in their shoes! They were dealing largely with families not interested in Torah-true Judaism. It was an uphill battle. They would teach the essentials and then see these children go off to public schools or college and forget their yiddeshkiet. It was a painful job to have back then.
[What follows is Rav Singer’s recounting of the speech]
“But Rav Moshe Moshe spoke last, and he stole the show. I still have this recording.
“Rav Moshe asked, why do we bless our children to be like Efraim and Menashe?
“Perhaps you will say that its because they were raised in Torah in the depth of tumas mitzriam…and that is true, but its also a lie! Our children cant reach that level. We can try they becomes a Rebbe Akiva, an Abayay, but Efraim and Menashe?
“Rabbossei, we bless our children this way, even though its impossible, even though it is but a guzmah (an exaggerated desire). Because to succeed in chinuch we have to compare them to the best there ever was. If you wish to succeed in chinuch you can just teach them the essentials, but rather to teach them as if they could become the next Menasheh and Efraim!
“And if you wonder, how indeed was Yosef so successful? It is because he taught them from Yaakov, the personification of pure, unbridled, unfiltered, unwashed-down Torah. This is how we succeed in chinuch! Hold them to the highest potential!”
Rav Singer said that every menahel walked out of that speech with a new mission: they will not shy-away from teaching youngsters amkushaTorah.
“Look at Passaic today. So many mosdos. How did this happen? I remember when it was a midbar! I came for parnasa, and to fulffil the promise to my rebbe. I would never have dreamed Passaic would be what it is today.”
Rav Singer, paused, and then again began to cry.
“Yes, there have a lot of chashuveh and hard working rabbanim, but it all could not have happened if Rav Meir Stern didn’t walk into to town so many years ago with ten talmidim!
“AmkushaTorah is the only future cities have for growth. And now we have baruch Hashem reached the point in American Jewry where it need not be reserved just for yeshivaleit!”
In other words, and as Rav Moshe expressed in that speech, for a school, city, kehilla to thrive they must have the highest, even impossible to reach, goals. They must be able to witness Torah at its deepest levels. Without that ingredient –without a kollel or a yeshiva, and without a roshyeshiva or a rosh kollel for their children to look up to –it is hard to grow a town.
This brought to mind growing up in Toronto, and the influence of Rav Shlomo Miller and Rav Hirschman’s Kollel Avrechim –founded by Lakewood –and its mark on the city of my youth, as well.
Rav Singer concluded our conversation. “I am just a talmud trying to fulfill the promise to his rosh yeshiva. Help me spread the word, help me share how successful this can be.
Showing Hakaras HaTov & Reflections of Rav Nechemia Rockove zt’l
October, 2020
I once heard a story about a student of Rav Soloveitchick of Boston. This man, in his 40’s at that time, and a rav in his own right –was sitting in his office learning one night when he stumbled upon a Tosphos. He simply could not understand an element of the logic from this 12 th century French yeshiva. So, he read Tosphos again, and then again, and still, ‘no dice’. He finally thought to himself: What would Rebbe say if he was learning this Tosphos? That was all he needed. In a flash –like a sudden burst of lightning –the correct understanding came to him. Tosphos now may perfect sense! This man was so inspired by this that he picked up the phone and dialed Rav Soloveitchick. “Rebbe” he began, “I know your time is precious, but I felt it was important to tell you that anything I am in Torah, any wisdom that I have learnt, and any abilities I have found in my self, they are all because of you. Thank You!” As soon as he finished saying his part he realized that he may have made a huge error in judgment. The Soloveitchicks are not emotional people, and now he feared he indeed just wasted his rebbe’s time.
The phone went silent for a moment as the student braced himself for a sharp retort. Finally, after what seemed like hours, Rav Soloveitchick responded with the following words: “There is no person on earth, no mater what they have accomplished in this life, and no matter their age, that does not need to hear those two words every once in a while. Those words are ‘Thank You’.
My 9 th grade rebbe, Rav Nechemia Rockove died this week. I never called to thank him.
This is not to say I didn’t have the opportunity. Aside for his always calling at important times in my life –when I became a chosson, when my mother was niftarah, etc. –I would see him from time-to-time. When I was a rav in Buffalo, rebbe would stop in for shachris on his way to New York a few times a year. I will never forget when he davened for the amud in Buffalo. I was a grown man, a rav in his own shul. Yet, due to girsa d’yankusa, I still trembled at the sound of rebbe’s voice. My discomfort reached a fever-pitch when I realized that he was waiting for me to finish the shema. I never felt more out-of-place by the mizrach vant! This is a good time to share with the reader that waiting for a rav for shema or chazaras hashatz is not about kavod. In fact the Rema rules (124:3) that a chazan should not wait for anyone due to
chashivus. The Mishneh Berrura (ad loc. #13) explains that the minhag today of waiting for the rav is due, simply, to pacing concerns. The rav sets the speed of davening so that those who are merely trying to say every word not miss kedusha, etc. By all these occasions, while I was reminded how much he meant to me, yet I never said those words to him. No man is above hakaras hatov (for an amazing idea and story relating to this, I encourage the reader to see ‘Insights’ to ArtScroll Midrash Rabbah on Bereishis, 32: 4) Let me tell you all about rebbe. Rebbe was tough. He was tall and imposing. Most of the boys coming into Ner Yisroel Toronto that year were typical good and wholesome American boys (well, Canadian!). We were solid boys who took our yiddeshkeit seriously. But 13 year-olds need to know how to learn, and he was the one to introduce us into that secret society of the yam hatalmud. He was unrelenting in his demands of us. He informed us on Day-One that he would not respond to us unless we spoke to him in the third-person. Of course, he was not looking for kavod from a bunch of little schnooks, rather he was teaching a new generation what kavod haTorah is all about.
I should point out that his personality as our rebbe was not who he was outside the classroom, and who I saw when I spent time with him years later. His entire persona was an act so as to properly mold righteous bnei Torah. I could still hear him scream, “Reish peh hei!” Reish peh hei (285) is the siman in the Shulchan Aruch that demands that every Jew learn the parsha each week with Targum/Rashi. We even had to sign a paper each week that we learnt that week’s segment on chumash. One day he came into shiur, sat down and made an odd request. “Imagine that on my desk sits an orange” Of course we all giggled to ourselves. “An orange? Imagine?!” But he continued (and if I recall he was quoting from his own rebbe, Rav Elya Svei): “Now imagine that this orange is purple. OK, now imagine that this orange is the size of a grapefruit. And, now, imagine that it is the size of a huge ball –several feet wide –and still sitting on my desk. “Do you have that image of a huge purple ball resting on my desk in your minds right now? Well, that image will be with you for the rest of your life!”
We didn’t know at first what he was talking about, or how this little experiment related to yiddehskeit. But then he concluded. “You may ‘forget’ about it. It may not come back to you ever again. However, the human brain forgets nothing it sees and nothing it thinks about. This purple ball –and any thought you will ever have- can never be
Like that warm city by the Pacific where so many of its citizens began life in another part of the country (or world), much of the English language is made up by words that arrived from other places, most notably French, Latin, Germanic languages, Greek, etc.
This makes for uneven and seemingly capricious rules for spelling.
Growing up in Canada, I spelled ‘color’ as ‘colour’. In fact, I spelled ‘spelled’ as ‘spelt’, making learning about the chamishes minei dagein confusing!
After learning the proper spelling for American English, I had another challenge –transliterations.
As bizarre as English spelling can be, try spelling a Hebrew or Yiddish term!
For example, how does one write the Hebrew name for the middle forefather, the son of Avraham?
Artscroll finds a happy balance in-between the sefardi and ashkanazi pronunciations –‘Yitzchak’–while others spell it Yitzchok, the way most enunciate it.
Virtually every Jewish publishing house has their own rules for transliterations, including Ami. I once published an article for an English Halacha journal. It was close to fifty pages in length with close to one-hundred footnotes. As much time went it to writing the piece, an almost equal time was given to another task. Weeks before publication, I received the article back together with pages describing their specific and exacting rules for how to spell Hebrew names and words, it took me hours to reformat each entry to their liking, e.g. Igros Moshe became Iggerot Moshe.
It was with this in mind that I read a piece of news.
Every year, believe it or not, one of the most followed sporting events in the country is the Scripps Spelling Bee, where kids from around the country compete.
These are not your 7th Grade spelling bee words.
Words like auslaut, erysipelas, bougainvillea, aiguillette, pendeloque, palama, cernuous and odylic need to be spelled (spelt?) correctly, and in a certain time frame. In fact, those were the very words in this year’s final round.
What made news this year was that there was no single winner. Each of the above eight words were spelled correctly by each of the eight finalists making it an eight-way tie.
Because of the above-described complexity of the English language, after a word is given a competitor may ask the judges for certain information.
“Can you use it in a sentence?” is always popular, and allowed. “What is the language of origin?” can be very helpful to figure out how it may be transliterated.
For example, over Shavous we read the chazal relating to Rus and Naomi’s dialogue of gerus. “Where you go, I will go” (Rus 1:16). The Midrash (RusRabbah 2:22) explains that Rus was replying to something Naomi had said. “Ti be Jewish means not going to theaters and circuses”.
Leaving aside the halachic implications of this statement, as well as why -in the entire pantheon of halacha – this was the crucial message to give a potential convert –we notice something else.
The Roman/Latin word ‘circus’ in chazal is spelled beginning with a chuf, not a samech or sin. In other words, it is pronounced kirkus.
This may help explain the ‘soft’ letter C with which it is spelled in English as well.
So why am I writing about the Scripps Spelling Bee? Because, while the news focused on the eight-way tie, we notice something else.
It was the first morning of the first day of the Spelling Bee.
There was electricity in the air. Nervous kids who have been studying for months wiped their sweaty palms on their pants as they anxiously awaited the first words.
Finally, it was time. The first judge spoke, offering the first word of the 2019 competition.
The first word?
Yiddeshkeit.
When a congregant sent me this information, I had a flurry of thoughts.
First of all, I do not even know how to spell that word! As pointed out above, no two frum publications houses could agree as to its spelling –so how can there possibly be a designated national spelling?!
Then I read on and saw that more borrowed terms were a part of the contest. For instance the word ‘keriah’.
My next consideration was if this was a good thing or a dangerous thing.
On the one hand, perhaps that these terms have entered the language shows our influence, but, on the other hand, perhaps they have become just that, words, devoid of their weight, meaning and private significance.
But then I had two final thoughts.
In fact I shared these next thoughts over Shavous, in my yizkar derasha. In my shul, during any yizkar, the room is crammed with Jews of all stripes, levels and backgrounds. Filled with mostly regulars, there are also those who come to shul only for special events or days such as these when they can recall their loved ones.
I explained how I began to fantasize about what it would be like being that contestant; an eleven-year-old kid born in India and raised in Iowa.
The judge says, “Yiddeshkeit”.
The child simply can’t make sense out of the phonetic medley he just heard. He must have kindly asked, “Yiddeshkeit. Can I have the definition, please?”
How many times have I as a rabbi been asked to define my faith, to define Yiddeshkeit?
Can a judge do so in a few words?
How does one define it?!
Then I began to imagine the kid asking the second, most popular of contestants’ questions:
“Yiddeshkeit, Can you please use it in a sentence?”
“Yiddeshkeit, Can you please use it in a sentence?”
“Let us assume” I began “That you are a judge on this panel. How would you use it in a sentence? How do you use it in a sentence in front of family and children?”
We once wrote here how Rav Moshe Feinstein would often warn parents to be careful how they talk about Yiddeshkeit in front of their children. By saying such things as ‘es iz shver tzu zein a yid’ one can destroy their love for Yiddeshkeit.
“Yiddeshkeit. Yiddeshkeit if my raison d’être, my reason for being. Yiddeshkeit” one judge may say.
Another judge, “Yiddehskeit. I feel stifled by Yiddeshkeit. Yiddeshkeit”
Finally, the last judge. “Yiddeshkeit. Yiddeshkeit is a part of, but not the center, of my life. Yiddeshkeit.”
Several weeks ago I had the opportunity to spend Shabbos in Camp Romimu together with TAG High School for their annual Shabbaton. TAG is the Beis Yaakov of the Five Towns.
Every year they have such a Shabbos at the end of the year, and bring in a rav to speak to them. Among the many shiurim I was asked to give was one Q and A, a question and answer session.
I have done these before, and expected a slew of hashkafic and philosophical questions relating to mesora and the amitoshel torah.
However, I was pleasantly surprised.
“May I still say birchas krias shma if it is after zman krias shma?” was the first question.
What followed was an untold number of questions relating to halacha, teffila and hands-on Yiddeshkeit.
I told the girls, and I shall repeat here, how impressive this was.
They were not looking at Yiddeshkeit from without, but it was their lifeblood, the center of their lives.
The old rabbinical story goes of how a maggid once came to a town.
“What will you be speaking about?” asked the rav.
“Chinuchhabanim” replied the maggid.
“No, no!” said the rav, explaining, “There is breakaway school. Due to politics, you need to stay away from that topic “.
“Ok. Then I shall speak about talmudtorah”
“No, No!” replied the rabbi again, “There is a big fight in the shul as to what type of shiur I should give. Please, do not go near that topic”
“I see” says the maggid. “Alright, I will speak about the importance of kashrus”
“No, no!” exclaims the rabbi, lnce again, “You see, a new, competing vaad opened up in the city. It is too touchy a topic”
Exacerbated, the maggid exclaims, “I cant speak about Torah, you do not want me touching chinuch, and you wish I stay away from kashrus… what should I speak about?!”
The rabbi innocently responds, “Just speak about Yiddeshkeit!”
Yiddeshkeit never needs redefining –we know its essence –it does need re-marketing or a PR rep to bring it to a new generation, chalila. Rather it us that need to redefine our relationship with it.
To re-define Yiddeshkeit for ourselves; as the center of our universe, our very lifeblood.
Yiddeshkeit –We may not be sure how to spell it, but we know what it means!re-define Yiddeshkeit for ourselves; as the center of our universe, our very lifeblood.
Post lag b’omer, leading up to Shavous, is a season for many simchos. Such events, be they weddings, barmitzvos, etc., afford me a wonderful opportunity. As we know, rabbanim are segregated to their own table –although I was once accidently placed at the children’s table, and, while a story for a different time, we actually had great conversations!
Often it is too noisy to have lengthy exchanges with such lofty colleagues, but when there are lulls in the music I like to discuss interesting recent shailos. Often other rabbanim would have already dealt with such an issue, or, will have fascinating insight into the question.
By a recent event, I was speaking to a rav about a shabbos bris we had over sefira and the shailah if, as with a typical Shabbos bris, avharachamim should be omitted from mussaf. Because this teffilah for kedoshim was composed after the first crusades of 1096 –events that were born during the days of sefira – we general recite it during these days, even on roshchodesh. Would we say it even by a Shabbos bris?
After discussing the various sources who speak of the matter, he shared a separate interesting shailah he received. I responded in kind. We went back and forth until we found ourselves discussing some of our more fascinating shailos.
While some of these questions are not for print –either due to complexity, privacy or other reasons –I did share with him the one shailah I think about most often this time of year. It may even be my most favorite shailah –as it relates to nesinas hatorah.
The process of conversion today is, seemingly, far more rigorous and far lengthier than in years past. There is a reason for this. On the one hand a rav wants the process to be painless, although rigorous. Chazal have often described the dangers of pushing potential converts away – in one instance even blaming the birth of Amalek on that very misconduct (Shabbos 88). Indeed, the basic halacha teaches that one need only teach them a ‘few mitzvos’, some light and some more serious ones. Hillel famously converted someone after he simply requested to learn more about the kohein gadol (Tosphos, Yevamus 24b with shu’tRavAkivaEiger # 41. Cf. Maharsha to Shabbos 31a).
Most prominently, we learn from Rus and her conversation with Naomi that a minimal amount of Torah knowledge is all that is necessary. Indeed, chazal further teach that one of the positive goals in our being so spread out in galus is to bring many converts into the fold (Pesachim 87b).
Yet, on the other hand we are taught the dangers of accepting those who are unworthy, the fear of those who come with ulterior motives, and the ills caused by a beis din that accepts a ger too quickly (see Yevamus 109b with Meiri). Some even recommend waiting a full year from the day one expresses their wish to convert in order to assure all parties that this is the right thing to do (See Mishnas Rebbe Eliezar that this has been the longstanding custom of batei dinnim). And, most famously, we are commanded to inform the potential convert of the difficulty of abiding by the Torah (Yevamus 47b) and the hardships of the Jewish nation (ShulchanAruch 268).
So, and for a number of reasons, many rabbanim today not only teach a tremendous amount of halacha and hashkafa to potential converts, but they also administer a test. While many argue that teaching Torah in such detail to an –at present – non-Jew is problematic, others argue that in our times it is the only way to investigate their seriousness (See IgrosMoshe 3:90).
With this in mind, several years ago a man walked into shul. He was from Cuba, raised in a fundamentalist Christian family. Having studied the bible since his youth, he came to the conclusion that yiddeshkeit is the only truth.
Long story short, over the course of a few years we learned everything together, from the aleph-bais to hilchosshabbos. Throughout, we were in touch with a beisdin in Cleveland with whom I kept abreast of his growth.
A few years into his studies and living with the community, I felt it was time to complete his gerus. He made an apartment with the beisdin, and took off to Cleveland.
After all the sacrifice, the learning, the day finally came. I was sitting in my office when his text came through “Geyurgeyarti!!”, I became a ger.
More amazing than this text was a phone call I received from him just several hours later.
It was close to midnight when my phone lit up. Nervous that something serious happened on his trip back, I anxiously picked up the pone. “Are you ok?”
Everything was fine, baruch Hashem, but he had a shailah, his first as a Jew.
“Rabbi, I arrived back about an hour ago. I was so hungry, but all the stores are closed. So, I opened my freezer and took out some leftovers. I placed them in the microwave to defrost and reheat.
“I am now sitting in front of the food about to eat when I realized that I have a serious issue.
“All this food was cooked when I was a gentile, making it bishul akum!”
This was a fascinating shailah, and it demonstrated his level of knowledge even on his first day as a yid!
Can it be that one’s own food becomes forbidden after gerus?
There is logic both ways. Indeed, two likkutim that I own on gerus come to opposite conclusions. GerusK’Hilchasah (p. 69) rules that such food is forbidden –after all, was not this food cooked by a non Jew?
However, MishnasHaGer by Rav Moshe Klein (son of Rav Menahse Klein, p. 175) disagrees.
He points out that the two main reasons for the prohibition of bishulakum do not seem to apply here. Rashi (AvodahZara 38a) focuses on the concern with eating from non-Jews becoming common, thus leading to a great risk of something non-Kosher being eaten. Tosfos (37b) explains the chief concern as being to prevent intermarriage.
According to either view, the concern here is non existent. Indeed, we find in other cases (like a choleh on Shabbos who has a non-Jew cook for him) where many rishonim allow such food for others once cooked b’heter (e.g. BedekHaBayis 3:7).
It was only later that I realized the connection to Shavuos.
One of the minhagim on this yomtov is to eat dairy (see Rema 494). Any number of reasons are given for this minhag. One sefer I own (Otzar HaYidios, Eisenberger, Shavuos ed. p. 69-71) brings twenty-six reasons found in sefarim!
One of the famous explanations is brought in the MishnehBerrura (ad loc. sif kattan 12). There the Chofetz Chaim explains that after nesinas hatorah we went back to our tents to eat. However, since we just received hilchosshechita we were not yet proficient in these laws to have meat right away, so we simply ate dairy.
However, this approach to the minhag is challenged. The Chofetz Chaim later in life pointed out (LikuteiHalachos, end of Chullin) that if we follow the view that the Torah was given on Shabbos then they could not schecht even if they wanted to and knew how!
To explain the first approach, the seferGeulas Yisroel (a collection of Torah from the Baal Shem Tov and early rebbes –its authorship is disputed and unclear) brings a fascinating approach: already by marah the tzivuy of Shabbos was given, so indeed they were not surprised by their inability to shecht, and perhaps they prepared food before Shabbos. Rather, they could not eat their prepared food because it was slaughtered and cooked while they were non Jews!
This may have been the very first instance of the shailah I brought above!
But it gets more complicated. The ShelalRav (Shavous, p. 211) is not satisfied with the above approach.
For, how could their solution have been to eat dairy at harSinai –it was milked when they were non-Jews, making it choluvakum?!
Perhaps then, we can say that 1-they could not shecht fresh meat due either to it being Shabbos or because they were not yet proficient in the halachos of shechita, and, 2 -they could eat their dairy products for, as the MishnasHaGer suggested above, when the reasons for a gezeira are so clearly not present, and when it was made b’heter, it becomes permissible to eat.
From the first moments of mattan Torah the beauty and complexity of Torah was present!
Is dying because one is a Jew enough to make one a kodosh in the halachic sense?
May, 2019
The old humorous tale had been told a thousand times.
The young, sincere and very frumyungerbucher is on his way home from yeshiva late one night.
As he makes his way through the darkness is he attacked by a gang if ruffians.
They pull out a gun.
He thinks this is it, the end; he will have the zechus to die al Kiddush Hashem.
So he begins to prepare for his final mitzvah:
He closes his eyes and begins to recite, “BaruchatahHashem…asher kidishanu b’mitzvosuv…mikadesh shimcha brabim (to sanctify His name publicly).”
The gang, frightened by this strange incantation in a foreign tongue, quickly runs off.
The bochur gives chase, fearful of a hefsek, he run to catch up to them with his finger to his lips screaming “Nu!, nu!…”!
There is a lot of truth to be found in this oft-repeated anecdote. The Shlah Hakadosh (d.1630) writes (ShaarHa’Osios, aleph, Emes V’Emunah) that there is a special beracha to be said in such an instance. Indeed, I used his version of the beracha (said by many each morning after birchas hashachar) in the ‘story’ above. (See MetzuvahV’Oseh by Hagaon Rav Shmuel Dovid Friedman vol. 1 p. 123 for a wonderful discussion of this Shlah and beracha).
Over the past several days many stories are being told about Lori Kaye hy’d, the congregant in the Palway Chabad who was killed by nineteen-year diseased human being.
In many frum publications the term ‘died al kiddush Hashem’ is used. Recently, I was giving a shiur and began, “May this be in memory of Lori Kaye and all kedoshim”.
“Rabbi” someone interrupted (which I encourage during my shiurim), “You don’t mean that literally, do you? Sure, her zechus is enormous, but halachickly, dying al kiddush Hashem is a sugya in the gemara (Sanhedrin 76) and reserved for certain cases where one chooses death over, say, an aveira. Is dying because one is a Jew enough to make one a kodosh in the halachic sense?” (See Rambam hilchosyesodeihatorah 5:1ff).
The answer of course, is ‘YES!’, she most certainly died al kiddush Hashem.
Nevertheless, while some may bristle at the question, in truth it’s a fascinating one, and one that he was not the first to ask.
Much of this column will borrow heavily from Rebbetzin Farbstein’s ‘Hidden in Thunder’, vol. 2, ch. 10, which speaks in great detail about this issue. English translations are largely based on Deborah Stern. The reader who wishes to delve into this and other topics that relate to the churban Europe in both halacha and hashkafa are greatly encouraged to see Rebbetzin Farbstein’s stupendous works on the subject.
Before the war, Rav Yehoshua Moshe Aronson was a rav in Sanniki (near Warsaw). He was deported to the Konin labor camp and later to Auschwitz.
He wrote a secret diary, now published under the name AleiMeroros (Bitter Leaves) about his time during the war.
He initially laments:
“Is there a Kiddush Hashem dying at the hands of the Germans? There is no offer to save one’s life by accepting another religion… Although the Nazis were fighting…not only against the Jews but everything Jewish, they did not order us to transgress our religion. They chose a policy of systematic liquidation. The question is whether a Jew killed for being Jewish sanctifies Gd’s name through his death.” (see AleiMaroros p. 305)
Rav Dessler echoes this question (MichtavM’Eliyahu 3:348) in a letter to his son:
“Many people have asked in amazement: What is gained by these deaths? If they had died because of an edict of apostasy and given their lives in the sanctity of Gd’s name, it would be something. (But) These murderers did not insist on faith…”
The Slonimer Rebbe (d. 2000) also once wondered aloud in one of his annual derashos about churban Europe (1984 and 1989 discourses, published in Ha–ArugahElecha), seeing the question a little differently:
“On the hand, it is the greatest spectacle: six million holy Jews attained an exalted level of performing Kiddush Hashem. But on the other hand, it is distressing…that in fact that most of the people being killed had no idea that they were performing Kiddush Hashem, and did not have the privilege of offering themselves for the sanctity of His name. After all, all Jews were killed (meaning, even non-believers)… nor was there always peace of mind when they were killed. How could this be called death al Kiddush Hashem?”
Of course, all three answer the question, and all explain how indeed all deaths at the hands of our enemies, all who pay the ultimate sacrifice simply for being a Jew is automatically a kodosh in the strongest sense of the word.
As Rav Aronson explains, “But when the Gentile has trouble with the word Jew and with the very idea of Judaism as well, the Jew’s death is (always) a kiddush Hashem. Since the nations of the world know that these are Gd’s chosen people and that their harassment comes solely based on this…their death are automatically a kiddush Hashem.”
The holy Piasecner Rebbe, Rav Kalonymos Kalmish Shapiro hy’d, saw how many learned Jews believed that while their death would be seen as holy they may not be considered to have died al Kiddush Hashem.
To combat their feelings, he shared the following:
“The akeida was not only a test of Yitzchak, but also the commencement of a form of worship that requires total sacrifice for Hashem and the Jewish People. The akeida was a test of the desire and intent of Avraham and Yitzchak. It was never accomplished in reality because the malach told Avraham “Do not harm the lad” (Bereishis 22:2).
“For this reason, the murder of a Jew…consummates the akeida! (In other words) The akeida was just the beginning –the expression of intent and desire –while a murder of a Jew is the akeida’s conclusion. Thus, the akeida and the murder of all Jews (because they are Jews) are componants of one event”!
But in the case of Lori Kaye it is even clearer; her death even more remarkable.
The Maharam M’Rutenberg (d. 1292) witnessed many Jews being killed simply for being Jews; he himself died while being held in captivity.
He writes (Teshuvos #517):
“When someone resolves to die for the sake of kiddush Hashem (referring, it would seem, even if one is resolved to die for the ‘crime’ of being a Jew alone), from that point on, no matter how they are killed, he shall feel no pain at all…”
Someone like Lori who acted, who jumped in front of her rav has not just diedal kiddush Hashem, for the ‘sin’ of being a Jew, but in her final moments taught the world how to live and to actal kiddush Hashem!
Writing just a few years before his passing, the Ohr HaChaim Hakodosh (d. 1743), interprets a series of pasukim relating to the korbanos (Vayikra 6:1-3) in a stunning manner.
What follows is a truncated version of his words, hameivin yavin (translation follows Rav Munk):
“We may consider this whole paragraph as an allusion to our present and final exile, designed to console us about the depressing conditions we find ourselves in. Inasmuch as the soul of every Israelite refuses to be comforted seeing our exile appears to be interminable, we are certainly in need of some comfort. At the time of this writing the exile has already lasted far longer than our previous exiles combined, …already 1672 years have passed since the destruction of the Temple… The afflictions the Jewish people suffer in exile achieve for us what the sacrifices achieved on the altar, i.e. atonement for our sins… ‘burnt…all night’ means enduring the whole ‘night’ of exile… The Torah informs us that when the dawn of that ‘morning’ (of redemption) finally looms, Hashem’s anger will burn and consume all those who have tortured us during the many years of our exile and especially the Western nations…The words “and the fire of the altar” allude to the many afflictions we have endured…The word also recalls the self-sacrifice exhibited by Isaac when he lay bound on the altar. …By ‘linen tunic’ the Torah means that when that time arrives even rachamim will consent to Hashem avenging the wrong done to the Jewish people and that Hashem makes a visible mark of the blood of any Jew who was killed because he was Jewish.. On the day when Gd goes out to exact retribution from our enemies He will wear that garment on His heart…Martyrs are the most beloved by Hashem; nothing separates them from Hashem at all. The Torah alludes to the absolute affinity which exists between the martyrs for the Jewish faith and Gd Himself… ״ In referencing the burnt fats of the shlemim offering, he states, “these allude to the tzadikim and wholesome ones, choice members of klal yisroel (who Hashem chooses as sacrifices)”
This majestic Ohr Hachaim can offer us some comfort in galus.
While martyrs may feel no pain, their surviving families do.
May Hakadosh Baruch Hu bring the Kaye’s a nechama, may she be a powerful melitzah yeshara, and may we all be zocheh to hear the derashos of the Rav Aronson and the Piasecner Rebbe –together with Lori and the six million kedoshim in attendance –in the era of the great reunification, that of techias hameisim, the age of bilah hamaves lanetzach.
May the ‘morning’ of the Ohr Hachaim arrive soon!
While our mesorah teaches that she felt no pain, we know that those around her feel tremendous agony.
May Hakadosh Baruch Hu bring them a nechama, may she be a powerful melitzah yeshara, and may we all be zocheh to hear the derashos of the Rav Aronson and the Piasecner Rebbe –together with Lori and the six million kedoshim in attendance –in the era of the great reunification, that of techias hameisim, the ageof bilah hamaves lanetzach.
One Pesach seder several years ago one of the finest members of my shul, and his family, was by our table.
This individual is a very soft-spoken, kind and serious person. His wife and children are equally full of chein.
Because we have so many guests for each seder –and not enough kosos to go around–my wife purchased large and beautiful glass goblets that would be used for the arbah kosos. Allow me to repeat the fact that they were very large cups.
I was using my standard kiddush cup and wasn’t paying much attention to what the guests were using, until after the second kos.
During ShulchanAruch this guest was slurring his words and had, well, the giggles.
It was so odd seeing him like this. He was the straightest shooter I knew.
His wife explained that his family follows the halacha that one must drink the entire kos of wine for each of the arabakosos, no matter their size (see Bach 472; Shulchan Aruch 472:9, inter alia).
These glass goblets must have contained half a liter of liquid space!
Meaning that by the forth cup he drank about two liters of wine –and it showed! By nirtzah me and my kids delighted in watching this usually soft-tempered man gloriously act out all the animals in chad gada.
We have since purchased smaller kosos for guests, as the chazal teach, “Eight things are harmful in abundance and beneficial in moderation…wine.” (Gittin 70a)
Yiddeshkeit and Alcohol: A History
The Gemara, on the one hand, teaches (Eruvin 65) that “Wine was created so as to console mourners,” the Midrash in Bereishis Rabba (36:4) teaches that “[Wine] caused exile and will continue [to do so] in future generations.”
Similarly, “Wine gladdens the heart of man” (Tehillim 104), and “Do not drink, for its end is blood.” (Bamidbar Rabba).
The Midrash Tanchuma (Shemini 11) relates the story of a son who slowly weaned his drunken father off his dependence on alcohol. When he felt it was safe to let his father out of the house they went for a walk, and came upon an old drinking buddy of his father’s. The friend was lying in his own filth in the road, laughing to himself. Hoping that his father would now see the loss of dignity associated with drunkenness, the son pointed him out to his father. However, the father ran over to his old friend and whispered into his ear, “Where did you find such good wine?”
Based on the above Tanchuma and Esther Rabba (5:1) the Gra interprets the verse in Mishlei (23:35), “They struck me and I did not become ill” as symbolic of an alcoholic who becomes oblivious to alcohol’s negative effects and even claims that his addiction is virtuous—a sort of Stockholm syndrome. (See Artscroll’s Esther Rabba ad loc., footnote 28 and ‘Insights, A’ for further elaboration)
For a wonderful treatment of this topic and on addiction in general, see Judaism and Psychology by Moshe HaLevi Spero, Ktav Publishing, Yeshiva University Press, 1980, pages 120-141.
While it has been argued that frum Jews seem to have a lower rate of alcohol abuse in proportion to its drinkers than many other groups, if true, this is due to our being grounded in alcohol’s reality, not because of our denial of it (see American Sociological Review, 1980, Volume 45, “How Jews Avoid Alcohol Problems,” pages 647-664; TimeMagazine “Jews and Alcohol,” March 17, 1958; The Daily Beast, “Pass the Manischewitz, Please,” August 2008; and The New Yorker, “Drinking Games,” by Malcolm Gladwell, February 2010.)
What About Purim?
Over the years many organizations have begun to crack down on alcohol usage of young people on Purim (See Rambam, hilchosyomtov 6:21 for precedent for such bans and concerns). Some in our communities have met this with a touch of cynicism, as they hold the mistaken belief that yiddishkeit doesn’t subscribe to such a negative view of alcohol. While there are, indeed, many statements in the Torah and Chazal that refer to the positive aspects of alcohol, they pale in comparison to the number of statements against it. This is similar to the current medical view that in the right setting, small but regular alcohol consumption can be beneficial, yet it can also hold great potential for abuse.
In Talmudic parlance, there is a difference between a shasuy (drinker) and a shikkar (one who is drunk); see Eruvin 64a.
But what about Purim? Do not chazal teach (Megilla 7b) an obligation to become so intoxicated (with wine, cf. Orchos Rabeinu 3:56) to the point of not knowing the distinction between the blessing of Mordechai and the curse of Haman?
How do we understand this obligation in light of the above?
The Chofetz Chaim (Biur Halacha, 695) asks these questions, and they are asked in even more detail by the Avuderahm.
Many Explanations
We must first mention that many poskim understand the mitzvah of drinking on Purim in its simple meaning (see ShaareiTeshuvah in the name of Yaavetz and ChachamTzvi). This should not, challila, be seen a contradiction to the above sources that show a negative attitude toward heavy drinking. Rather, precisely because it is rare to ever allow for such drinking did chazal need to come and permit it. The fact that it is once a year clearly is not running against moderation.
Indeed, the Maharsha to the above gemara states, “…this is not to become silly in drunkenness and to run after and/or act in foolishness and untoward language, for this is not joy, rather foolishness…”. The Shelah gives the same warning (Megillah, ner mitzvah 14-15).
In other words, and as the Biur Halacha ibid. alludes, it is not an obligation per se, rather a once a year allowance, should one want to and if they can trust their judgment (see Chayay Adam).
However, there are many other serious views as to how to read this Halacha.
The Rema (695:2) famously rules that one need only drink more than usual, and then take a nap due to tiredness onset-ed by the wine. For, when one is sleeping he is ad d’lo yada! This is also alluded to in Rambam (hil. Megillah 2:15). The Pri Chadash and the Pri Megadim advise one to follow this approach, as our generation is weaker than in the past. (See also Yesod V’Shoresh HaAvodah 12:7)
The Yad Ephraim on the margins of the ShulchanAruch (ad loc.), as well as the Sefas Emes (Megillah 7b), reads the gemara as saying that one should drink ‘ad’, meaning until and no further that he gets so drunk that he does not know such a distinction. In other words, the gemara was setting a limit how much one can drink! (See also Kol Bo #45; Divrei Shaul to Megillah; Emek Beracha in the name of Rav Yisroel Salanter)
In fact, the Maharsha (Bava Metzia 24a) explains that when chazal teach that there are three things regarding which a chacham may lie, one of those items is ‘puria’. As opposed to the simple meaning of this word, Marharsha suggests it refers to Purim –in that a talmud chacham may pretend and fool others into thinking that they are drunk when in truth they are not!
The Brisker Rav explains this strange obligation based upon a technical matter (Emek Beracha, seudas purim). Typically, the yomim tovim have an obligation of simcha, and our requirement to eat meat and drink is only but a heicha timtza –a means –to get there. Not so on Purim. The pasuk states that Purim was established for‘misheth v’simchah’, meaning we were obligated to drink not as a means to attain simcha alone but for drinking itself.
The BiurHalacha (ibid.; see also in more detail the Avudrahm) suggests that since the various events in the Purim story happened through wine and intoxication, the same is obliged on us. Thus, we find seudas Achashveirosh and the death/exile of Vashti, as well as
the downfall of Haman all happening at festive and drink-filled events. The Megilas Setarim (Rav Vidal HaTzarafti, hakdama; not to be confused with another sefer on Esther by Rav Yaakov of Lissa under the same name) points out that this is usual for yomim tovim; we always celebrate through the consumption of the very means that the miracle happened, be it choressees/mortar on Pesach or cheese (story of Devorah/Chanah) on Chanukah. Purim should be no different. See also Nachal Eshkol who states the same but adds that when Achashveirosh and Haman finalized their evil plan they celebrated over drink (Esther 3:15), and chazal (Esther Rabbah 7:25) teach that this was a punishment for the sale of Yosef which was also caused due to drinking. On Purim we do a ‘turnabout’ and drink, but this time l’shem mitzvah.
Some suggest (see, e.g. Avuderahm, et al.) that since ‘arrur haman’ and ‘baruch mordechai’ equal the same numerical value, all chazal were saying is that one should drink until the point that figuring out each gematria, and that they are indeed the same, would become a burden.
The Mishneh Berrura (ibid. sif kattan 4) in the name of the Taz and the Gra suggests that one should simply drink to the point that his simchah confuses him as to which is better: the downfall of the wicked or the salvation of the righteous.
The Levush (siman 670:2) reminds us that chazal (Megillah 12a) teach that our original aveirah that caused these events was our eating and drinking by seudas Achashveirosh. We redeemed ourselves by fasting for three days (Esther 4:16). Perhaps then we drink on Purim and feast so as to turn this sin into a mitzvah again.
The Chasam Sofer (Derashos, p.196) states we are obligated to drink just enough that if we were down about a matter this measure will bring back some joy and tolerance. Minchas Eliyahu reminds us that chazal teach (Eiruvin 65a) that wine was create for aveilim, so as to feel better when one is down. Shushan too became mournful (‘avel’ 4:3) until (9:22) we went “u’mei’avel l’yom tov’.
While we could go on with further explanations, allow me to end with following: Chazal teach (Midrash Mishlei 9:2) that Purim is the only
yom tov that will remain in the time of moshiach. Rav Shlomo Zalman Aurbach explained that while Purim will still be active, the mitzvah of ad d’lo yada will vanish (see Rutz K’tzvi 2:p.322; Pardes Yosef, purim, p.410; sefer Meishiv K’Halachah)!
The navi tells us (Yeshayahu 29:9) “…they were intoxicated but not from wine…” Perhaps when moshiach comes we will finally be able to attain the highest level of joy without any worldly aid.
When I was in 8th grade in Eitz Chaim of Toronto, my rebbe was Rabbi Mordechai Yaffe, now roshyeshiva of Mesivta Ateres Yaakov in Lawrence, NY.
One day he asked all of the class to take any one coin we had on us and place it on top of our hand. These were the days of my youth when I –and everyone-always carried coins for the soda machine, so finding coins for each student was not difficult.
We all placed either a penny or a nickel or a quarter on the top side of our hands.
“Raise your hand if you feel the coin on you”, he asked.
We all raised our (other!) hand.
He then said, “Ok, keep the coins where they are, and I will continue with the gemara Makkos”.
He then preceded to teach us gemara.
A few minutes later, he suddenly stopped wherever it was we happened to be doing in our learning and said, “Ok, raise your hand if you still feel the coin on you”.
Nobody raised their hand.
We were suddenly reminded that we had these coins resting on our hands that whole time. For, after the first minute or so we got used to it, and did not even feel them there anymore on our skin.
He then told us that this is a life lesson. To be honest I do not remember for sure what the lesson was –as there are many one can bring out from this (and if he is reading this, I apologize; although I am sure he is enough impressed that a student such as I was would recall something from that year!).
Perhaps what he was seeking to draw was the fact that after time we can all grow numb. This is true whether its wealth, or even, sometimes, tzar – nothing ever feels like it feels at first.
This is especially true when it comes to certain legacy issues that rabbanim are felt to bring up over and over again. At a certain point, we feel that it may be overkill, and one more drasha on this topic will undermined the cause.
One example of this may be the topic of technology. At least in the charedi and chasideshe world, the concerns surrounding this has been spoken of over and over. By this point the human am got the message –we hope.
Perhaps this is true.
But I wish to share something –in fact it behooves me to share something – that many parents may not be aware of. An additional concern that I never expected; one that I hope shocks some parents from their slumber.
Of late, young teenagers have been meeting with their rabbanim at numbers not seen before. Now, it is already odd for a teenager to ask to meet with their rav. But it is what is often the purpose behind this request that should give us all pause.
“Rabbi, I do not believe in Gd”.
We will not now discuss how one deals with such a crisis of faith. Rather, for our purposes, let’s discuss one of the reasons we have seen such an increase of such statements, and at such tender ages.
In the course of talking to these young men and women, rabbanim note their level of knowledge in certain scientific, historical and philosophical realms –although often quoted by these youngsters inaccurately.
“Where are you getting this information”, the rabbi will at some point ask.
Invariably, the response is, “YouTube” (or another free streaming service).
Imagine for a moment a parent –who believes that they monitor their child’s internet use. Let’s even postulate that they only allow its use for homework. Let’s further propose that in this home they even keep the computer in a public space (as they should!). So, the father comes home and sees his daughter with earphones on while watching a lecture online. He sees the ‘Cambridge’ emblem behind the speaker. “It’s a professor from a prestigious university!”, he says to himself, “Likely work for school”.
“I bet she is so bright that she needs to learn at the college level!”, he thinks as he moves on to other matters in his life.
But in this case, he assumed too much. His child is watching one of the many militants and well-spoken atheist who knocks and mocks toras chazal (the term “‘militant’ atheist” used to describe these fundamentalists and proselytizing non-believers is used by even the New York Times, as far back as 1929; all that has changed is our children’s’ quick access to their toxicity).
So unaware are we about the above that when talking about the dangers of the internet, this is the furthest concern from our minds!
We all had questions when we were young. But, back then, to further investigate them we would have to go the library. Frankly, many were simply too lazy to become an apikores!
No longer. Punch in the words ‘age of the universe’, or ‘dinosaurs and the Torah’ and your child will be introduced to thousands of innocent looking videos about these heavy topics taught by brilliant and confident teachers you do not know, who often have poisonous, cynical, and noxious views toward anything religious, spiritual or Divine. These videos will then link to other videos, taking your innocent ben or bas Torah down a rabbit-hole so easily, and so quickly that even Nimord would have never imagined possible.
When I hear an eleven or twelve-year-old speak of ‘organized religion’ or use other hot-button terms I become aware from where they have become indoctrinated.
Of course, there are other, more obvious concerns that arise from wonderful advances in technology, but this one has taken me off guard.
And its not the only new issue to which I was introduced of late.
A few weeks ago I was invited by Rabbi Marc Volk of the National Council of Young Israel to moderate a series of public discussion to take place in a number of frum communities of all stripes.
Most recently, in Hollywood and Bell Harbor, Florida, parents of the local day school were invited to take part in such a discussion.
We had arranged for a panel, made up by the local rabbi, the head of the local modern-orthodox day school, and a clinical phycologist so as to inform, educate and guide the parent body of these and other challenges of raising children today.
I was shocked, bewildered and educated by what many of these panelists said. Just when we thought we understood the concerns of technology, it turns out that we have only scratched the surface.
Of course, technology has led to many advancements in the class room. There is no question that there is a myriad of positives that it has brought and will continue to bring to the world. However, if we are able to say (Yoma 72a) that, lahavdil ad lanetzach, even the Torah can be a sam hachaim if used correctly, yet a sam hamuvess if, R’l, not, then it behooves to not turn a blind eye to such a dichotomy regaring lesser things, and the challenges we find ourselves in today.
Next week I will quote from these professionals –and others –about how to tackle these very new and threating issues.
This is a conversation we all need to have.
Part 2
Unknown Unknowns
Rebbetzin Meira Davis has served her community for four decades. The Young Israel of Hollywood/Ft. Lauderdale had fifty families when the Davis’s arrived; today they have six-hundred.
Although her husband is now retired, they still live in the community and their influence is still being replenished daily.
Like many rebbetzins in Young Israel shuls, she would give a series of shiurim to eleven and twelve year-old girls in preparation for their basmitzvah.
She was once speaking to these girls about the importance of, and beauty in, Shabbos kodesh.
Looking to make the class interactive, she asked them, “Does anyone wish to share share what they enjoy –look the most forward to –when it comes to Shabbos?”
“The zemiros at my Shabbos table” said one.
“Being able to daven without worrying about school,” said another.
But it was what the third girl said that was most surprising. “What I enjoy the most about Shabbos is that my parents can’t use their phones. This means they can finally pay attention to me”
The rest of girls knowingly, and nervously, laughed in agreement.
I mentioned in last week’s column how I was asked to moderate a series of public discussions on the challenges of raising children in our dor yasom.
The latest was held in Florida.
Along with rebbetzin Davis –who shared the above story –the panel consisted of the new rav of the shul, Rabbi Weinstock, and the head of the local community day school, Rabbi Yoni Fein.
I have led three such panels in different cities thus far, and invariably, the discussion moves quickly to technology.
While my role as the moderator is perfunctory – simply to open with divreitorah and to frame the questions through the prism of hashkafa and mesorah – I have been absorbing a tremendous amount from the varied panelists.
At the above panel discussion, one of the michanchim responded to rebbetzin Davis’s above remarks by saying, “I once saw a father pushing his three-year old on the swing in the park. He would push the child, and in the few seconds before the swing would return back, quickly check his phone!”
What message are we sending (no pun intended!)?
As we pointed out last week, many tune out when they hear topics relating to ‘the dangers of technology’. Its ‘old hat’, ‘well known’ and –according to some, ‘overstated’.
However, being a new issue, there is a lot we still do not know, or are just now discovering. To quote former Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld, there are known unknowns -things we know we do not know. But there are in life also unknown unknowns – things we do not even know we do not know.
In the last column I shared one disquieting result of technology that few were aware of; and that was just the tip of the iceberg. Of course, there are positive uses for technology, this goes without saying, and is not the focus here.
Allow me to share some of the most striking points raised by these professionals:
There have been many stories in papers of how kids these days have lost the one natural skill of real communication and interaction; of listening to an other and responding in kind, of reading social ques. One mechanech in a modern school told the story of a class trip to Washington, D.C. Sitting on the long bus ride, he watched as a group of kids sitting next to each other were looking down silently and typing endlessly into their phones. “Why don’t you guys talk to each other?” he suggested. “We ARE!” they responded!
One phycologist on a panel shared his concerns with FOMO, a new term that stands for ‘Fear Of Missing Out’. Due to social sharing sites and texting photos, our children see a particular image of the world and the lives of others. This has weaponized envy. Children and teenagers do not yet have the maturity to understand that what they are seeing is a photo-shopped image of the the lives of others. “Let me give you an example” he continued. “I once watched as my neighbors left their house on their way to the chasunah of their eldest daughter. The mother said, ‘Lets all take a family picture together before we leave’. But the other children were not interested, and her husband was tense to get to the hall. The mother became inpatient and hurt. Bickering ensued, until everyone relented and took a quick photo, quickly smiling for the camera and then, just as quickly, they went back to their hurt feelings. Now imagine this mother texts this ‘family portrait. People will see this happy family –all made up –and on their way to their child’s wedding. ‘What a perfect family’ they may think. ‘Why can’t my family be like this one?’ some may question. Ahh, but they only got a window into a millisecond of their lives! But that millisecond, and the thousands of other milliseconds from people’s lives, have severely and harmfully distorted our children’s’ view of the world! It has been disastrous for shalom bayis”
One menahel expressed another missed concern. He explained how kids who are given more liberal access to technology are more challenged by teffila. “We are all confronted when it comes to having kavanah. But a child who is trained in ‘swiping’ and in quick ‘page views’ can hardly recover from this mindset. Their ability to shut out the world and focus may be something they suffer with for the rest of their lives”
In one city, a mechanech pointed out (in a school where most teenagers had smart phones) that in past generations a parent could quickly discern if something was bothering their child (e.g. is they stopped bringing a certain friend over). Now, because their life is online and their face is so often in front of a device, these parents have little indication of their inner pain”
We have to consistently educate ourselves in these matters. Parents cannot let their children be their educators when it comes to this new world we live in.
The navi famously teaches,“That he may turn the heart of the fathers back through the children, and the heart of the children back through their fathers-lest I come and smite the earth with utter destruction” (Malachi 3:24)
Malachi is foretelling not one, but two important messages that will be happen congruently.
First, yes, that children will return, and this often will awaken their parents and other older generations – “That he may turn the heart of the fathers back through the children…”
During what was coined ‘The baal teshuvah Movement’ of the 50’s and 60’s through the 80’s and 90’s the first half of this pasuk was referenced and quoted to the point of ubiquity. And, it does not only refer to classic baalei teshuvah either. Rather that this same generation would see an explosion in the level of Torah learning across the globe. No longer were most people simply frum, rather we became daf yomi yidden, kovea ittim l’Torah lawyers and doctors; we were all returning to the higher ideal of our past.
However, and as chazal warned, we must avoid quoting just slices or segments of pesukim (Megillah 22a); for without a full context from an entire pasuk critical points may be missed.
In this case, the second half of the navi’s message – .“…and the heart of the children back through their fathers…” –seems to teach us that once returned to yiddeshkeit, we mustn’t allow the next generation -our children -allowance to do what the preceding generation needed to do before them – continuing the inimitable idea of children teaching parents. Rather, the children must never again be the educators.
The dangers if we fail in heeding this warning is made clear by this pasuk’s conclusion, “…-lest I come and smite the earth with utter destruction”.
This is a prescient and revelatory message. For this, the generation after, is a generation where the temptation of children educating their parents is indeed remarkably and frighteningly tempting.
Things are changing so rapidly that parents are left largely in the dark, relying on the schooling of their young children to guide them on what they should be concerned with.
This is an untenable situation.
Newton’s third law of physics teaches that “For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction”.
Like the olam hagashmi, so too the olam haruchni. The issue of technology is here to stay. Its results-both positive and negative-are just now being learned. One thing is for certain, this is not a one-off; we must constantly update ourselves on the newest and latest ‘reactions’ being discovered, so that we can fulfill our greatest mission as parents: protecting those who can’t protect themselves.
