Tag: Rabbanus

  • Buffalo’s Rabbinical History 1847-1927

    Buffalo’s Rabbinical History 1847-1927

    Including Fascinating Information Regarding:

    • – The First Rebbe in America
    • Coca-Cola Kashrus Secrets
    • The Birth of YU
    • America’s ‘New Jerusalem’
    • The Mussar of Benjamin Franklin

    ….And Much More…

    Published In Weekly Installments in Ami Magazine Over the Summer of 2023. By Rabbi Moshe Taub

    Welcome to Buffalo

    Rav Yona Landau is a fascinating individual who I first met when I was a rav in Buffalo. The shul would see many daily visitors, so, at first, seeing someone in his chassideshe levush did not bring any specific attention. After davening, he approached and gifted me with a sefer he had written. I still have this Yiddish volume, about the ‘early’ rabbanim and shuls of America. At the time, this topic was not even remotely on my radar. For whatever regretful reason -likely due to many other guests there- I did not ask him why he was in town. However, serendipity would soon take care of that.

    Several weeks later, while driving home from a meeting, sudden horrid blizzard conditions began to deluge my car (not a surprise for Buffalo!). The storm caused such low visibility that I became utterly lost, finding myself in the township of Cheektowaga. This was around 2004, so I pulled out my trusty, printed (!) New York State map and worked-out a route home through safer sideroads. As I was driving in this remote area, suddenly, through the furious flurry, I saw what appeared to be a chassideshe yid -not a common site in these parts!

    The certainty that my eyes were deceiving me was quickly dashed when I then saw another such yid, and then another. I began to pull over – to ask if they need help, and, to quench my curiosity as to why they were there – when I noticed this street aligned a cemetery. As a kohein, I had to park up the road on the other side of the street, get out of my car and walk through the intense sleet that was smacking my face, all the while calling out to them. “Are you here on business and now lost? Or, do you have a great-grandparent buried here?”

    It was only at this moment when I became informed that this was the cemetery which housed the ohel of the holy Rav Eliyahu Yosef Rabinowitz (again, I am a kohein). Rav Yonah Landau is responsible for bringing this burial spot to broad public attention. Since his own group- trips began, pilgrimages to this site have been made by tens of thousands across all streams of the Torah world -from cholim, to those in need of a zivug or parnasah.

    Even before this, my shul in Buffalo had a flyer for visitors to take which had information regarding kashrus, the eruv and mikveh, as well as other useful information for visitors. This flyer also contained some brief information about Buffalo’s Jewish history, including an image of a contemporaneous announcement of this Rav Rabinowitz’s petirah.

    The American Hebrew & Jewish Messenger was a national Jewish magazine which began in 1879, and which still exist today (after various exchanges and transactions) as The Washington Jewish Examiner. In its November of 1910 edition, in their ‘Buffalo’ section, they wrote:

    Rabbi Joseph Rabinowitz, of the congregation Brith Sholom, Anshe, Russia, died last year at the age of fifty-four years. His death has caused a great deal of grief in the orthodox community, for the deceased rabbi was beloved by a large circle of friends, and was noted for his piety, his modesty, and his exceptional learning. He was officially connected with B’rith Sholem congregation, but was also greatly interested in the general religious and educational welfare of the Jews of his section. Although only a few years in Buffalo, he at once made his influence felt in many directions.
    “Rabbi Rabinowitz was born in Justingrad, province of Kiev in 1856. His father was a famous rabbi. He came to Buffalo in 1908 and at once became popular and beloved by all the Jews in the city. He passed away Monday evening November 14, at his home, number 67 Walnut Street
    .”

    In the next chapter we will iy”H share more about Rav Rabinowitz’s amazing life and his present-day connections to Buffalo.

    Additionally, we will share other ‘secret’ burial spots in America that may surprise even the history-literate reader.

    Family Trees & the Steipler Gaon The First Rebbe in America

    In the last chapter we wrote about the first rebbe to reside in America, Rav Eliyahu Yisef Rabinowitz. Let us first pick up from there.

    While a rav in Buffalo, I once received the following email:

    Dear Rabbi Taub,

    I am travelling to Buffalo and heard that there is an ohel for one Rabbi

    Eliyahu Yosef Rabinowitz. I was told he was a rebbe, perhaps the first in

    our country. Is this true? Was he really a rebbe? How do we define that

    term? And, how do we know he indeed was one?”

    Ah, the questions rabbis receive!

    Let us start with his amazing yichus, which is a story of galus:

    One of the Baal Shem Tov’s prime disciples, of course, was Rav Yaakov Yosef (d. 1781). His sefer Toldos Yaakov Yosef is one of the main sources for the Torah of his rebbe and founder of chassidus.

    One of Rav Yakov Yosef’s students -and a student of the Maggid of Mezritch as well, another pupil of the Baal Shem Tov -was Rav Gedalya of Linitz (d. 1804). Rav Gedalya himself was the son of a dayan, and was a great-great grandson of the Maharsha (His great grandmother was the Maharsha’s daughter, see source in the sefer Toras Avos below).

    Many stories known today about the Baal Shem Tov were transmitted through Rav Gedalya (see, e.g., Shivchei Baal Shem Tov).

    He himself authored the sefer Teshuas Chein.

    When Rav Gedalya was niftar, his son, Rav Shmuel Yehudah Leib, took over as admor of Linitz. He was niftar in 1818, at just forty-six years of age.

    His brother, Rav Yitzchak Yoel, assumed the role of admor next. He had learned under the holy Apter Rav (d.1825) together with ‘Der Heiliger Ruzhiner’, Rav Yisroel (d. 1850), who said about Rav Yitzchok Yoel, “If one desires yiras shomayim, go to him” (Toras Avos, p. 24 note 13). Rav Yitzchak Yoel was niftar in 1828.

    He was followed by his son, Rav Gedalya Aaron who was married to the daughter of Rav Shmuel Abba, the grandson of Rav Pinchos Koritzer, a disciple of the Baal Shem Tov. It seems that he only accepted becoming admor in 1840, a dozen years since his father was niftar.

    With this background, we can now begin to zoom-in a little.

    For unknown reasons, in 1848, he would move his court to the town of Sokolivka, at the outskirts of the city of Linitz (known today as Illinitsy), both just about thirty-five miles from Uman.

    As his fame grew, he would soon need to hide from the Russian authorities, escaping to the Romanian town of Podu Iloaiei. The last ten years of his lilfe was spent here. It is here where his talmid Rav Eliyahu Rosenthal would publish his rebbe’ s teachings in the sefer Chen Aaron.

    Now away from their holy father, it is likely at this point that his four sons began to adopt the last name ‘Rabinowitz’, which is Slavic for ‘the son of the rabbi’. It seems probable that this surname was then pronounced as its Russian equivalent, Rabinovitch.

    His eldest remaining son was Rav Yitzchak Yoel – who initially took over as admor, yet sadly was niftar at forty-five, in 1885, just eight years after his father’s petira.

    His brother, Rav Pinchos, then took over as the rav and rebbe of Sokolivka. Rav Pinchos was tragiclly killed al kiddush Hashem in the pogrom on zayin av, 1918, hashem yinkom domo.

    Chayah Shuman, whose four brothers were among those killed, recalled, “The Gentiles refused to bring the [dead] bodies to the shtetl.

    The Jewish population rented horses and wagons from them, and themselves brought back the dead. My father was among those digging graves for my brothers. Nachum the apothecary tried to help him digging. My father said to him, ‘Take it easy, Nachum; let me take care of my children.’ My brother Baruch who was killed was married and the father of a little boy. Reb Pinchas was seventy-six at the time he was murdered.”

    {Her grandson, Rav Avraham Meir Shuman, lives in Buffalo today, and makes a siyum every year on that date l’zecher nishmasum}

    The next brother was Rav Eliyahu Yosef, who would soon arrive in Buffalo, NY.

    Rav Eliyahu Yosef would marry the daughter of Rav Meshulam Zusha Aurbach. Rav Aurbach’s son -the Buffalo rebbe’s brother-in- law!- was the famed Rav Mordechai Dov Twersky, the Hornesteipler Gaon.

    That the Hornesteipler took his mother’s -Rebbitzen Shterna Feigeh – maiden name was not uncommon of many Jews of the time (see my post regarding Jewish surnames -the history and logic behind this practice).

    For the litvaks, like myself, who are reading, take note of the following: Rav Yaakov Yisroel Kinievsky -the father of Rav Chaim Kinievsky – was also known as the ‘Steipler’ or the ‘Steipler gaon’, a name that comes from that same town. Indeed, the Steipler’s parents were chassidim of Rav Mordechai Dov Twesky, and named him Yaakov Yisroel after Rav Mordechai Dov’s grandfather, Rebbitzen Shterna’s father – the Magid Meisharim, Rav Yaakov Yisroel Twersky (d.1876).

    Rav Mordechai Dov’s son, the Buffalo rebbe’s nephew, was Rav Bentzion Yehudah Leib would take over as the official admor of Linitz.

    His son, the Buffalo rebbe’s great nephew, was Rav Yaakov Yisroel Twersky -named for the same zaide as was the Steipler! -would famously move to Milwaukee, Wisconsin in 1927.

    After arriving to the Lower East Side in 1899, he soon discovered that many of his brother’s mispallilim had relocated to Buffalo. It was only a matter of time until they excitedly invited him to be their rav, in the Jefferson Street shul. The reader should keep in mind that Buffalo was one of the largest cities in the country at the turn of the century.

    He arrived there just a few years after President McKinley was assassinated at the world fair held in Buffalo.

    His kever at the Pine Ridge cemetery was beautifully redone with an ohel and a special room for kohanim. A plaque was installed giving special honor to those killed al kiddush Hashem from his hometown.

    Thousands of yearly visitors come to daven at his kever.

    So… was he a ‘rebbe’? Of course!

    Yiddish Kezetzung, November 25, 1910

    Gaons, Goons and Designations
    &
    The 13 Middos of…Benjamin Franklin?!

    As a kohein, I have never been to Rav Rabinowitz’s ohel near Buffalo. When I asked a friend to share its image with me, he also shared an additional image of another matzeiva, asking “Have you ever heard of this rav?”

    The matzeiva in the image read as follows [translation]:

    “A man great amongst his brethren// A shepherd of a holy flock// a posek, advisor, and orator// Who judged and was charitable to his nation// Harav Hagaon Avraham Meir [bar Yitzchak Zev] Franklin// Av beis din of Buffalo and before this outside of Vilna (!)// Niftar 4th of cheshvon …[born] tuff reish chuff kimmel (1882/3)- [niftar] tuff reish tzadi gimmel (1932)”.

    I was not immediately familiar with this rav, and initially wondered, “A rav with an American-sounding name such as ‘Franklin’ was formerly a rav outside of Vilna?!”

    I would soon discover that his surname was originally ‘Frankel’, and later Americanized to Franklin.

    Such a change -especially in a surname – is not new in our long galus, especialy when showing gratitude (see Eicha Rabbasi, 2:13, with Beis Ahron, chelek beis, p. 519).

    But why choose, specificly, Benjamin ‘Franklin’ to honor?,

    To answer this question, I will share something extraordinary with the reader:

    Reminding us that they don’t make politicians like they used to, Benjamin Franklin’s writes in his autobiography:

    I conceiv’d the bold and arduous Project of arriving at moral Perfection. I wish’d to live without committing any Fault at any time; Habit took the Advantage of Inattention. Inclination was sometimes too strong for Reason. I concluded …that it was our Interest to be completely virtuous, was not sufficient to prevent our Slipping, and that the contrary Habits must be broken and good ones acquired and established,…

    I propos’d to myself… Thirteen Names of Virtues…

    1. Temperance-Eat not to dullness; drink not to elevation. 2. Silence- Speak not but what may benefit others or yourself; avoid trifling conversation. 3. Order -Let all your things have their places; let each part of your business have its time. 4. Resolution-Resolve to perform what you ought; perform without fail what you resolve. 5.-Frugality – i.e., waste nothing. 6.Industry-Lose no time; cut off all unnecessary actions. 7. Sincerity- Use no hurtful deceit; 8. Justice-Wrong none by doing injuries or omitting the benefits that are your duty. 9. Moderation- forbear resenting injuries so much as you think they deserve. 10. Cleanliness 11. Tranquillity- Be not disturbed at trifles. 12. Chastity- Rarely use venery. 13.Humility…”

    Many who went to litvishe yeshivos may find this list very similar to the ubiquitous “Thirteen Middos of Rav Yisroel Salanter” chart that used to hang in the back of many classrooms.

    It is possible -if not likely-that this list was composed not by Rav Salanter, but rather Franklin himself!

    I will now very briefly explain:
    In 1812 -twenty years after Franklin published his list – a famous sefer was first published –Cheshbon HaNefesh.
    Its author explained that he borrowed the idea of 13 middos from a ‘secular moralist’, writing:

    Recently, a new and pleasing method was discovered, this invention innovation will spread quickly im yirtz Hashem”

    Cheshbon HanefeshMerkaz hasefer ed., p. 31
    (See also article by Rav Nissan Waxman, Sinai, 1961, as well as a 5780 monograph by Shai Asafi).

    In a recent edition of this sefer, Rav Mordechai Shmuel Edelstein writes a hakdama where he mentions this list’s original source coming from “The gentile sage […] Benjamin Franklin [in whom] there arose a powerful yearning to reach moral perfection,” (translation; see Asafi, ibid.).

    This is not, chalila, to minimize the value of this list, which can be of great value, irrespective of its origin. Indeed the 1812 mechaber sought to improve upon Franklin’s list by changing its order, as well as modifying some of the middos themselves -i.e. omitting Franklin’s #1 and #12 for and exchanging them kavod and savlanus.

    So, how did the provenence of this list become misplaced, and, how did this list become so popular in the litvish world?

    When R. Yizchok Blazer zt”l (Peterburger) published Ohr Yisroel – the celebrated collection of writings and letters from his rebbe, Rav Yisroel Salanter zt”l, he makes no mention of these thirteen principles. However, in an 1845 edition of the 1812 Cheshbon HaNefesh the publisher mentions in his introduction how Rav Slanter urged this re- issue and (according to my friend Reb Moshe Friedman of Toronto, who shared this theory with many gedolim), this caused readers to assume this false attribution to both the sefer and its list.

    Back to Rav Franklin:

    In the archives of The New York Times from November 5th, 1932 we find on page 1 that they report on Rav Franklin’s death on page 15. Exasperatingly, their archoves were incomplete and, at first, all I could access was with this odd and confusing headline (emphasis mine):

    “BUFFALO CHIEF RABBI, A. M. FRANKLIN, DIES-Descendant of ‘The Great Man of Goon’ – Was an Official of Rabbinical Association”

    Great man of…what?! Later, when looking at the actual microfilmed image I discovered that the digitizer made an error. The headline actually reads:

    “…Descendent of the great man of Gaon

    While clarifying the word ‘Goon’, their sentence still made little sense. However, the explanation may be simple: They erroneously transposed the translations of the words Vilna and gaon, assuming ‘vilna’ meant great man/genius, and that ‘gaon’ referred to his city!

    Perhaps this error is due to the fact that ‘Vilnius’ -and not Vilna – is how gentiles refer to this city (although, see below where they use the term ‘Wilno’).

    As a fascinating aside, the word gaon, meaning genius, is not found anywhere in Tanach! There, it always means ‘pride’ or ‘heights’, etc. It was only in the Geonic era (700-1000) when ‘gaon’ took on this new connotation (see e.g. Halachos Gedolos, 31).

    It is interesting to consider how this came to be. Some suggest that in the late middle-ages we crowned our rabbanim with gaon based on the pasuk gaon yaakov-pride of Jacob’ (Tehillim 47:4). Others posit that their given title was actually ‘reish kalla’ (leader of the shiurim), or aluf (meaning general/leader –perhaps the etymology for the English word ‘aloof’), and that gaon was simply a sobriquet. This is because gaon’s gematria equals sixty -in that they comprehended all sixty mesechtos of shas!

    Back to Rav Franklin…
    Here is the rest if their memorial (brackets are mine):

    The Rev. Abraham Mayer Franklin, chief rabbi of Buffalo, died last night at Buffalo General Hospital after several weeks’ illness…Rabbi Franklin was born in Wilno, Poland seventy-two years ago. At the age of six he began studies under Rabbi Isaac Elohanan [Rav Yitzchak Elchanan Spekter], one of the greatest of the modern rabbis, and from him he received his degree and diploma [semicha] after examinations lasting several days, an honor given to few men.
    Rabbi Franklin was a descendent of the Vilna Gaon, ‘The Great Man of Gaon’, a rabbi revered for his piety and his wisdom.
    He and his wife came to Buffalo at the turn of the century. There were several congregations in the city at that time and Rabbi Franklin was made chief rabbi, going from one to another each week…
    In 1930 he was elected vice president of the Rabbinical Association of America. He was offered a post recently by the Beth Hamidrosh Hagodol in New York but declined it.”

    We discussed a few years ago how the term ‘Chief Rabbi’ was commonly used for a number of rabbanim of major American cities, and became a contentious matter. To be sure, such a title was not taken by Rav Franklin, or, for that matter, even voted upon, rather it was thrusted upon him, likely by the press (see ‘From Ararat to Suburbia: The History of the Jewish Community of Buffalo’ Adler, 1960, p. 220).

    When Emenuel Chaim Nachman -later known as Leon Dryer – wished to give his rav, Rav Rice of Baltimore, this same imprimatur, it caused an uproar, although, to be fair, he demanded the title ‘Chief Rabbi of the United States’! Leon Dyer even made a special banquet in honor of Rav Rice’s new title and invited the press to participate. He and his board meant well, appropriating this title only to offset the rising threat from the reformers. Indeed, when The Baltimore Sun and the New York Herald obliged, some in the burgeoning reform movement were livid.

    One reformer wrote to the Baltimore Sun:

    There is reason of suspicion that some busy-body [Leon Dyer], ignorant meddler of said society has mislead the editors into this most inconsistent and ridiculous idea of a Grand Rabbi or Chief Rabbi of the United States. The fact is that Mr. [!!] A. Rice in not a Grand Rabbi of the United States, or the several societies of this city, but in truth not even a rabbi official of this very society where it represented that he was officiating…”

    Other communities gave this designation even more freely. On Purim in 1839, the kehilla in New Orleans asked one ‘Rolly Marks’ to lein the megillah. A local actor and fireman, he was the only one who knew how to read Hebrew. Soon, he was elected as the ‘Reader of Prayers’, then became known as ‘Rabbi’, and soon enough many–Jew and Gentile alike – referred to him as ‘Chief Rabbi’ of the city (refer to The First Rabbi, p. 67)!

    In 1845 we even find this term by none other than famous reformer Max Lilienthal (a man discussed at length in past summer series).

    It was not until the late 1850’s through the late 1870’s when the desire to create a serious, substantial, and sustainable office of Chief Rabbi (of New York) reached a critical mass.

    One of the leaders of Reform wrote contemptuously of this idea:

    “The Jewish Messenger of New York wants a Chief Rabbi, a sort ofAmerican Jewish pope, or something like it…”

    Ignoring the cynics, R’ Hirsh Shuck (Chuck), president of Beis Medresh Hagadol, would soon form an official committee for this cause. Eventually, this job would go to the Malbim. It was only when the Malbim sadly-and-suddenly predeceased his move to New York, that the job would go to RJJ, Rav Yaakov Yosef (see bleow regarding his last name).

    We have so much more to discuss about Rav Franklin, including how Coca-Cola ties into all of this!

    In the next chapter we will finally arrive at that part of the story.

    The Yeshiva Bochor &
    The Fainting Stranger

    In the last chapter we began to examine the life of Rav Avraham Meir Franklin who, after serving as a rav in Vilna, became a rav in Buffalo, New York until his passing in 1932.

    We concluded with The New York Times’ obituary for him, and their description of his title as ‘Chief Rabbi’ of Buffalo. Let’s pick up from there.

    The sefer Ohalei Sheim was first published in Pinsk in 1912 and bears the haskamos of Rav Chaim Soloveitchik, Rav Chaim Ozer, and Rav Dovid Karliner. This fascinating sefer chronicles cities and their rabbanim. It is in here (p. 295) that I discovered that Rav Franklin not only received semicha from Rav Yitzchak Elchanan Spector -as the NYT had correctly reported -but also from Rav Shlomo HaKohein of Vilna!

    It should be no surprise that they shared this prized talmud, as these two gedolim were extremely close. Once, when Rav Yitzchak Elchanon turned seventy-five, Rav Shlomo sent him a letter (the topic of commemorating birthdays was discussed in a prior column). It stated: ‘Birchas kohein l’kohein-one kohein’s blessing to another kohein’. When Rav Yitzchok Elchanan’s students read this note, they thought it peculiar, as their rebbe was not a kohein! Their rebbe smiled and said, “You have to understand his language –‘kohein’ is gematria seventy- five!”

    As opposed to the NYT, The Buffalo News had a more accurate description of Rav Franklin’s life in Vilna (emphasis mine): “He was one of Vilna’s famous sons. At the age of six, and for the next twenty years, he studied as a yeshiva bochor [!!!]”. This may be the first time that term had been written in English press!

    Rav Franklin served as the rav of Kehillas Anshe Emes on Buffalo’s East Side, which was founded by Russian expatriates of chassidesh stock and nusach. Interestingly, it was, of all places, the Buffalo Evening News that pointed out the irony of a Lithuanian rabbi serving a shul with chassideshe leanings (November 4th 1932)!

    In 1912 they purchased a larger building and Anshe Emes became known as the ‘Little Hickory Shul’. In 1918, their president, Morris Simon (1880- 1952), helped establish a committee of all the Buffalo frum shuls called ‘The Jewish Kehillah of Buffalo’ whose mission was to support other Jewish organizations and charities, most notably the Rosa Coplon Jewish Old Folks Home, which is still in existence today (under a larger umbrella group).

    I quietly chuckled to myself when I read how Morris served as shul president for his eleventh term when Rav Franklin was niftar, and how he was incessantly elected to this role until his own passing in 1956 (Adler, From Ararat to Suburbia, 1960, p.196). I wasn’t being crass in my amused reaction, rather my quiet laughter was elicited due to my own Buffalo memory and experience: When I arrived in Buffalo, Richard Berger was our shul’s president…and he still is today! When an assembly finds someone worthy, why take it away from him?

    To understand the need for such a unified group for tzedakah, the reader should note that the number of Jews who arrived in America from 1815-1930 was larger than the total population of world Jewry at the time of George Washington (The Writings of American Jewish History, 1957, 366-403)! The city of Buffalo, specifically, was going through its own unique Jewish growing pains in the eyes of the Gentile public (The Foreign Population Problem in Buffalo, 1908, pamphlet). Therefore, an organization that could represent these new immigrants was vital.

    One humorous tale that speaks to this need goes back to Buffalo in 1847. It was Yom Kippur, and so the twenty-four, or so, Jewish families in town rented an office area and spent the day in teffila –its first such minyan (for my number of ‘twenty-four’, see ‘The Forerunners: Dutch Jewry in the North American Diaspora’, p. 340-352)

    It was the Day of Atonement Itzeg Moses Slatsky stood in the synagogue the whole day in his white linen robe and white cap, and with a white girdle. Toward dusk he began to officiate. The congregation could no longer read without lights; but it being strictly forbidden for the Israellites of the Orthodox school to kindle a light or touch a candlestick on such a day, they sent for a non-Israelite to light their hall {leaving aside if this was or was not allowed}. He {the Gentile}, upon entering the synagogue and seeing Mr. Slatsky with his pallid face and long white beard, in full keeping with his white attire…was seized with terror- he {the Gentile} ran out as quickly as he could- and reaching the stairs, fell headlong down the whole flight, causing quite a sensation by his precipitate exit”! (Adler, ibid. p. 56).

    I have been unable to discover more about this one ‘Itzeg Slatsky’ (see ibid. p. 58), other than that he served as a mohel, baal koreh, chazzan and shochet in Buffalo for an annual salary of $200 (about $8000 today). It is also reported (in 1860) that he would stay up to ‘watch the dead’, i.e. act as a shomer. He died in 1875. It also seems he was fired and rehired numerous times. Today, this temple -Beth El -is reform, and my guess is that they could not withstand his orthodoxy.

    Such committees that Morris wished to start were also beneficial for the yidden as well. When Rav Aaron Selig arrived in America to collect for the poor of eretz Yisroel, Sir Moses Montifure had already sent hamlatzos to some of the wealthier communities anticipating his arrival and encouraging them to take part in this holy collection.

    However, upon arriving in Albany, their reform leader, Isaac Meyer Wise -the first in our history to allow for mixed seating, a story we told in detail in an Ami sukkos feature, 5782 – wrote him a glowing letter, and that is all (see The First Rabbi, p. 503). Lamentably, banks do not accept that as currency.

    These collections would improve with time. For example, the president of a shul in Sacramento, California -one Colonel Abraham Andrews -wrote the following note accompanying his shul’s donation of $250 (about ten-thousand dollars in today’s currency!):

    Our little congregation has been painfully impressed by an appeal from Jerusalem…It will not be overlooked by our brethren at home, that we have been peculiarly sufferers in the floods and flames which have so often desolated our own city {likely referring to the flood of January 1850, and to the fire of November 4, 1852 which destroyed close to ninety percent of Sacramento}…the suffering of Jerusalem, Hebron, and Tiberius. This bitter time for Israel will pass, and the people shall be gathered together and Messiah will come…”

    The Jews of Buffalo, and Rav Franklin in particular, may have seen the need for such a committee after the pogroms of April 19, 1903 – Easter for Christians – and the last day of Pesach for us. In the towns of Kishineff and Bessarabia forty-seven Jews were killed, hy”d; the result of a ghastly Passover blood-libel.

    In response to this news, Rav Frankel(lin) held a mass meeting at the Pine Street Shul on Sunday, May 17th. Rav Franklin spoke in yiddish and the Europeans in the audience wept (The Buffalo Express, May 18th).

    But then Rev. Israel Aron -a reform leader at Buffalo’s Beth Zedek, and a graduate of Hebrew Union College in Cincinnati -entered the assembly. He began to shout in English how there is only one refuge for the Jew -America. He oddly argued that these Jews should just arrive on these shores to save themselves.

    A direct quote from his speech: “The highest ambition for a Jew is to be an American citizen”! He concluded by maintaining that American Jews should not get involved in foreign matters!

    Yet, ironically, it will be Rav Franklin, the rav from Vilna, who would both stand for Torah and mesorah…and to be the one to help secure one of the most American of things for the future.

    As we will see in the next chapter.

    A Coke and a Smile …and a Hechsher

    More on the Life of Rav Franklin

    One encounters odd protest and objections when operating a vaad hakashrus.

    I was once contacted by a small local upstart. Their focus was on producing one specific famous condiment, a kitchen staple, and one with many brands already saturating the market. So, as to level the playing field with their many national competitors, they were investigating the feasibility of becoming certified.

    I answered their many questions, giving them basic primer of what such certification may entail. We then set-up an in-person consultation at their plant. After waiting in their lobby for over an hour -those in kashrus know the unique discomfort of long-term wearing of those hair and beard nets – the two owners finally came out. They had clearly been intensely discussing a particular matter for some time and came out looking defeated.

    They got right to the point. “Rabbi, you won’t be seeing the production area after all”

    “Why not? Is this not why I’m here?” I asked.

    “Rabbi, we have reconsidered becoming kosher. You see, our product is so unique [it wasn’t] and special [again, no]. We fear sharing our secret formula with you and your organization. We simply cannot risk it getting out.” While corporate spying is a reality, this small operation in North Tonawanda had nothing to fear.

    I tried assuaging their distrust. “In the history of kashrus, proprietary material has never been broken.”, to my knowledge.

    They remained incredulous, and after a tiresome back-and-forth, I gave up, saying:

    “Look, my job isn’t to persuade you or any factory/company to convert to kosher; in this regard, I operate as a service, not a business. However, I feel compelled to remind you of something, in defense of my industry.

    ©Moshe Taub//2023//moshemtaub@gmail.com

    “The greatest secret within the food industry – a mystery that has reached almost mythical status – remains the veiled formula to Coca- Cola. They have been kosher certified for close to one hundred years without their secret(s) ever once being betrayed”.

    The condiment company still didn’t budge, and today their product no longer exits – thus assuring their great secret remain forever secure and protected from both mind and mouth.

    On January 3, 1992, the Jewish Telegraph Agency blared the headline: ‘Israeli Rabbi Learns What It is That Makes Coke the ‘real Thing

    The giant Coca-Cola Corp. has yielded to an Israeli rabbi a secret hitherto known only to the soft drink’s founding family and a handful of the corporation’s most trusted executives: the formula for making Coke. ‘There was a need to know’, says Rabbi Moshe Landau of Bnei Brak”.

    The kashrus history of Coca-Cola has been well-documented, and it seems that every several years at least one Jewish publication will include a feature on this remarkable story.

    Even the secular press -from The New York Times (April 22, 2011) to The History of Science Institute (Distillations -Unexpected Stories from Science’s Past, January 2013 issue), is charmed by this tale. Although, sometimes, they venture beyond their breadth-of-ken, like when the latter states:

    [A]n important kosher principle known as blios—literally, taste—that applies to the materials touched by food and food ingredients”.

    To be sure, blios doesn’t mean taste – a more accurate translation would be ‘infused transfer’; and ‘touching’ alone doesn’t, regularly, cause blios.

    But beyond this, even their history portion is incomplete.

    In fact, virtually all the articles about Coke’s kashrus miss one component of the story. They all, rightly, hail Rav Geffen of Atlanta for making this product kosher year-round and for Pesach, in 1935 (see Karnei HaHod, ‘Teshuva Concerning Coca-Cola’).

    But there is more to this story, and in fact, the story of Coca-Cola becoming kosher is a who’s-who of the rabbanim in America of the time. (see Adam Mintz’s Is Coca-Cola Kosher; Rav Yehudah Spitz’s article at Ohr Sameach on the subject).

    Back in 1925 antisemitism was on the rise -largely due to the Leo Frank affair (a painful episode, for another time).

    Remarkably, this was when one of America’s newly iconic brands certified many of its products as kosher. “

    The first major coup scored by OU Kosher was its agreement with Heinz that its vegetarian baked beans, and twenty-five more of its famous 57 varieties, merited the kosher stamp of approval.”

    Although it is now reported that Heinz’s made-up the 57 number as a marketing ploy (e.g., CNN, Feb, 2022), I was able to locate an advertisement from around that time where Heinz itemized all of their 57 offerings (The Birmingham News, May 22, 1925, inter alia)! In fact, had Joe DiMaggio’s still unbeaten 1941 56 game hitting- streak extended just one more game -to 57 -Heinz promised a $10,000 prize!

    In any event, kosher was now in vogue, with Heinz reportedly even helping the OU design their now ubiquitous, simple – and importantly to Heinz, Hebrew-less – logo (see How Heinz and Coca-Cola Made America More Kosher, by Nicholas Mancall-Bittel, in Taste).

    Now it was Coca-Cola’s turn.

    Some already assumed this beverage was kosher, and it is reported that due to prohibition – when even cheap wine was not easy to come by –some were using Coca-Cola for kiddush/havdala (ibid.; As to its halachic status, see Igros Moshe, oh”c 2:75)!

    Well before Rav Geffen’s 1935 teshuva certifying Coke, rabbannim from around the country -such as Rav Elihu Kochin of Pittsburgh- would petition Rav Geffen, asking for his opinion -as he lived in Atlanta, near Coke’s headquarters. Rav Geffen maintained it was not kosher due to certain problematic ingredients.

    But, strikingly, Rav Shmuel Aaron Pardes of Chicago had already publicly announced Coke’s kosher status in his renowned yarchon HaPardes…in 1930!

    It would be another five years until Rav Geffen’s famous Coke hashgacha would be born!

    So, we are left with two questions:

    • What information could Rav Pardes have had to assert Coke was kosher five years before Rav Geffen’s 1935 detailed teshuva?
    • What does any of this have to do with Rav Franklin in Buffalo?!

    Rabbi Yaakov Bienenfeld, rav of the Young Israel of Harrison, NYwas recently by my office. He is a sixth generation American rav (!).

    Among his many collections was a bottlecap. But it wasn’t just any bottlecap. It was a Coca-Cola kosher for Pesach cap…from 1931! (See Image Below)

    The plot now thickens!

    Rabbi Bienenfeld then shared a page The American Heritage Haggadah whose author was granted access to Coco-Cola’s vaults (a grandson of Rav Geffen). Gathered on one page are any number of early certifications for Coca-Cola, interlacing each other.

    The earliest is from 1931, stating, (translation) “Enjoy every seudah

    this Pesach with Coca-Cola! Only if the bottle cap says Kosher for Pesach, J.B., 1931…under the certification of Rav Yaakov Bienenfeld

    This was Rabbi Bienenfeld own grandfather and namesake!

    (See Pic)

    In any event, it now becomes clear how Rav Pardes could state it was kosher:

    Rav Bienenfeld, a native English speaker, was easily able to converse with the manufacture and owners of Coca-Cola so as to collect the needed information. Rav Pardes, whose yarchon began in pre-WW1

    Europe, was far from a native speaker, but was able to take this information and write to Rav Chaim Ozer Grodzensky, asking about its then treif glycerin.

    Now for the crescendo of all this information: If one looks even closer on that page they will see another stamp of kashrus approval, also from 1931, from the vaad of Rochester, New York…and Rav Franklin of Buffalo! (See Pic)

    Meaning, Buffalo and their rav Rav Franklin -along with Rochester -were the very first city vaadim in the world to officially certify their local Coca-Cola plants, four years before Rav Geffen.

    ©Moshe Taub//2023//moshemtaub@gmail.com

    ©Moshe Taub//2023//moshemtaub@gmail.com

    ©Moshe Taub//2023//moshemtaub@gmail.com

    ©Moshe Taub//2023//moshemtaub@gmail.com

    A Tale of Two Mordechais

    History is a long and interlacing fabric. Nothing ever stands alone, and every element is tethered to another. We will see this play out in this chapter.

    We opened this monograph discussing the fascinating life-and-times of the first rebbe in America – Rav Eliyahu Yosef Rabinowitz of Buffalo (d.1910) – which then led us to discover Rav Avraham Meir Franklin from Vilna (d. 1932) – whose tenure in that same city overlapped with the rebbe’s – all culminating with last chapter’s discovery that the city’s vaad made their Coca-Cola plant kosher and Pesach certified already in 1931 (under guidance from Rav Chaim Ozer) -several years before Rav Geffen of Atlanta gave his famous imprimatur.

    Long before these rabbanim arrived to this area, a major American Jewish episode took place within miles of Buffalo. We would be remiss to ignore this story, iy”H returning to other prominent early rabbanim following our chronicling of this event.

    The first recorded mention of Buffalo among Jews may be from 1814, made in a sermon delivered by Hazzan Gershom Seixes, the first native- born Shul leader. Gershom’s father Yitzchak came to the New World from Lisbon, Portugal, settling in Rhode Island. Already at the tender age of five, young Gershom gave a derasha in shul! (The American Jewish Year Book, Vol. 6, ‘Biographical Sketches, 1904-1905 /5665, p. 40-51; see also Otzar Zechronosi, Eisenstein, p. 12). At the young age of just twenty-one (some historians posit he was twenty-four) young Gershom became the leader of the famed Spanish-Portuguese Synagogue in New York City.

    In 1814, during the ‘War-of-1812’, Toronto -then known as York – was captured by the Americans, while the-then village of Buffalo was destroyed by the British.

    In response to this, R’ Gershom gave a derasha appealing to his congregants to donate funds to help their brethren in Buffalo. He spoke of “the distressed situation of our fellow citizens in the northern boundaries of our state” and emphasized the “piercing cold” of Buffalo. Its good to know even back then Buffalo was made fun of nfor its weather! R’ Seixes then declared that the shul would commence of special teffilos/Tehillim to be said daily on their behalf after mincha.

    Remarkably, during that war, a frum soldier was stationed just outside of Buffalo.

    From his barracks, this soldier wrote to his friend Naphtali Phillips. Naphtali was the son (one of twenty-one siblings) of Jonas Phillips (d. 1803), among the founders of the famed Mikveh Yisroel shul in Philadelphia, and fought valiantly in the American Revolutionary War. In fact, on July 28, 1776, Jonas wrote a letter from Philadelphia –talk about a time and place in history! -to his friend Gimple Samson in Amsterdam where he described the war and wrote the entire Declaration of Independence in Yiddish! He assumed the British would not intercept such a prejudicial dispatch if written in this language. Sadly, that ploy did not work, which is why we have this letter today.

    His son Naphtali was a childhood friend of Mordechai Myers, who was born in 1776. In 1813, the now twenty-three-year-old Mordechai was stationed with his troop near Niagara Falls and wrote the following (I have retained, with great reluctance, his spelling and syntax):

    Naph,
    I find I am Indebted…It being marked Kasher induces me to believe you are one of the Proprioters. If so please continue to send it to me…the time has arrived when the nation requirs all its advocats. Sum must spill there blud and others there ink. I expect to be amongst the former and I hop you are amongst the latter…I have wrieten you a long letter from Buffalo in February I shuld feel a grate plausure to here from you of all
    occurences since I left the city …It is a fine thing to abandon the persute of welth, I never ware hapy in Persute of Riches and now that I have abandoned it I am much more contented. My Situation is not unpleasant…I am considered in a favorable light by my superior officers and Treated with respect by my Equals and Inferiors. I have a Compy that both respect & fear me. I keep but little Compy, give my whole attention to Duty… the most our trups being at Buffalo and Black Rock; a grate man once sayed he would rether be the first in a small viledge then second in rome. …My best respects to Mrs P and all the children, remember me to all friends.

    Yours Truley,

    M. Myers

    This same Naphtali, to whom Mordechai Myers was writing, was connected to another, more famous, American Mordechai. Naphtali had a sister named Tziporra who, in 1784, would marry a German expatriate named Manual Noah. Noah had fought in the Pennsylvania Militia during the Revolutionary War. In July of 1785 their bachor, Mordechai Menachem (Manual) Noah, was born. Sadly, his mother was niftarah when he was just seven years old, in 1792, and with his father eking out a living in the deep-south, young Mordechai was raised by his grandparents -Naphtali’s parents – Jonas and Rivka Phillips.

    We have mentioned Mordechai Noah in passing several times in past summer series, and now is the time to illuminate to the reader how he played a prominent, although curious, role in Jewish American history, and how he related to this same area where Mr. Myers was stationed.

    As Mordechai Noah matured into a young man, he began to long to create a Jewish haven and settlement. He would eventually settle his gaze upon Grand Island, New York, the third largest island in the State, sitting at about 28 square miles.

    Any reader who has driven to Toronto, or even to Niagara Falls, would have had to have driven through/over this island, on Highway 190.

    In 1815 -just a year after the above letter was sent!- the Americans purchased this island from the Native Americans, and allowed Mordechai Noah to purchase a third of it, with an option to buy more. By Tishrei of 1825, Mordechai Noah led a procession through Buffalo and into Grand Island, where he laid the cornerstone -still there till this day – that states:

    “‘Shemah Yisroel Hashem Elokeinu Hashem Echad’.

    Ararat: A City of Refuge for the Jews.

    Founded by Mordecai Manuel Noah, in the month Tishrei, September

    1825, and in the 50th year of American Independence.”

    He chose the name Ararat due to his own last name, Noah. The pasukstates: “And the tevah came to rest in the seventh month, on the seventeenth day of the month, on the mountains of Ararat(Bereishis 8:4).

    We could only imagine the significance Mordechai likely placed on the serendipity of the month of Ararat’s founding, being that Noach’s tevah also came to rest in the month of tishrei (see, machlokos, in Rosh Hashana 10b ff).

    Who was this Mordechai Noah exactly? Did the non-Jews or the American govenrmnet support his plan for a Jewish State? Was it met with any success? We will answer these questions in the next chapter.

    In addition to independent research, much information found above was garnered from the following two books:

    ‘From Ararat to Suburbia’

    1960

    by Selig Adler and Thomas E. Connely

    &

    ‘Jacksonian Jew’,

    1981,

    by the inimitable Jonathan Sarna.

    Mordechai Noah

    To best understand Mordechai’s passions and goals we need to understand who raised him -his grandparents Jonas and Rivkeh Phillips (after his mother’s early death). We already mentioned Jonas’ fighting in the Revolutionary War as well as his Yiddish translation of the Declaration of Independence. Let us now share his letter to none other than George Washington.

    Jonas was deeply troubled concerning a Pennsylvania law demanding an oath on any and all official government business and/or hires. This pledge forced a statement of legitimacy to the ‘New Testament’, R”l. (I kept Jonas’ spelling, only hyphenating names for Hashem):

    Philadelphia,
    24th Ellul 5547 or Sepr 7th 1787
    …I being one of the people called Jews, of the City of Philadelphia, a people scattered and despersed among all nations, do behold with Concern that among the laws in the Constitution of Pennsylvania… By the above law a Jew is deprived of holding any public office or place of Government which is a contradectory to the Bill of Rights that all men have a natural and inalienable right to worship A-mighty G-d according to the dictates of their own conscience and understanding…
    It is well known among all the citizens of the 13 united states that the Jews…have been foremost in aiding and assisting the states with their lifes and fortunes, they have supported the cause, have bravely fought and bleed for Liberty which they can not enjoy.
    Therefore if the honourable Convention shall in their Wisdom think fit and alter the said oath…then the Israelites will think themself happy toive under a government where all Religious societys are on an Eaquel footing…
    My prayer is unto the L-rd—May the people of this states rise up as a great and young lion, may they prevail against their enemies, may the degrees of honour of his Exceellency the president of the Convention George Washington raise up, may everyone speak of his glorious Exploits—may G-d prolong his days among us in this land of Liberty— may he lead the armies against his enemys as he has done hereuntofore, may G-d Extend peace unto the united States…May the almighty G-d of our father Abraham Isaac and Jacob endue this Noble Assembly with wisdom, judgement and unamity in their Councills… the ardent prayer of Your Most devoted obed. servant,
    Jonas Phillips

    Jonas led a life of influence, and young Mordechai would demand no less of himself.

    While Mordechai would become a famous character in the annals of American Jewish history, many historians incorrectly assert that Mordechai’s Jewish/real middle name was Emmanuel – due his English middle name, Manuel – with some contemporaneous newspaper accounts using the middle name Menashe (e.g.The Whig Standard, June 11, 1884; Vermont Telegraph, May 11, 1842, et al.). However, Mordechai signed his name in lashon hakodesh Mordechai Menachem’, in the one extant of such documents (Sarna, ibid. notes, 162:3).

    His burning desire to live a life of consequence was also aided by his uncle, Ephraim Hart – one of the founders of the New York Stock Exchange (then the ‘Board of Stock-Brokers’; Ephraim was married to Mordechai’s father’s sister). Ephraim would even write to President Madison on his nephew’s behalf.

    Mordechai himself was an imposing figure. Grover Cleveland’s uncle, Lewis F. Allen, described him as:

    A man of large muscular frame, rotund, with a benignant face and portly bearing…the lineaments of his race were impressed upon his features. He was a Jew, through and thorough and accomplished”. (Publication of the Buffalo Historical Society, 1879, p. 305-328)

    At twenty-eight old, Mordechai would borrow money from his other uncle, Naphtali Phi Phillips from the last chapter, and head to Washington to meet with President Madison face-to-face. Mordechai supposed it significant to “prove to foreign powers that our government is not regulated in their appointment of their officers by religious distinction” and that if Jews of foreign lands witnessed “one of their persuasion appointed to an honorable office” would lead Jews of other lands to emigrate to America.

    Madison would indeed appoint young Mordechai as consul to Tunisia, in their capitol city of Tunis in late March of 1813 (not 1811, which many biographical resources claim).

    Once he arrived in Tunis, much of his energy was spent with the local Jewish community, which, according to him, made-up one-fifth of Tunis’s one-hundred thousand citizens.

    After many successes -and some failures -Madison’s Secretary of State, James Monroe, revoked Mordechai’s consul duties two years later, on April 25th 1815. The reason James Monroe offered Mordechai for his discharge has baffled historians:

    “…It is known that the religion which you profess would form an obstacle to the exercise of your Consular functions…”!

    It’s entirely conceivable that the Madison administration took note of the time Mordechai dedicated in dealing with and aiding the local Jewish population.

    However, this letter would soon haunt James Monroe. The next year Monroe would be running for (and win) the presidency, and this letter, and Mordechai’s anger, could potentially harm his chances with both the Jewish and concerned-citizen’s vote. No less than both Thomas Jefferson and John Adams already shared their disgust that religion was the stated cause for Mordechai’s dismissal.

    Monroe reversed himself, telling Naphtali, “The religion of Mr. Noah, so far as related to this government, formed no part in the motive of his recall”.

    For his part, and to protect his reputation, Mordechai published “Travels in England, France, Spain, and the Barberry States, 1813- 1815”, a book praised by the secular press then, and prized today by yidden for its description of Jews of that time.

    Mordechai would move to New York where he founded a number of newspapers. This too opened him up to attacks (this time from his competitors), which became viciously antisemitic – a list of examples would take up many pages. Unlike others of his time who have faced this scourge, Mordechai never denied his faith, rather viewed it as a badge of honor.

    In 1817 he bravely openly attacked missionary efforts in Russia, and in 1820 would do the same concerning a missionary society and movement founded in America.

    It is only with this background that we can venture to understand what Mordechai proposed to do next.

    In the summer of 1825, Mordechai turned thirty-five years old. He accomplished more than most by this young age, but he also observed more – from the Muslim treatment of Jews in Tunisia to his own government’s – as well as private and public – antisemitism in the land- of-the-free; all conspiring with his unique personality to develop a radical plan.

    On January 16, 1820, Mordechai travelled to Albany and shared with the Legislator his scheme:

    The island of Grand Island, New York (nesteled between Buffalo and Niagara) – should be sold to him so as to fashion there a new refuge and safe haven for the Jews of the world; a secure colony built by-and- for this tired nation!

    As one historian points out (Sarna, ibid. p. 62), Mordechai could have just requested acquisition of this land without revealing his ultimate goal. However, Mordechai was a wizard at publicity, even if it meant infamy. He understood that for this proposal to triumph ‘the street’ had to be in on it, and, for the idea to spread b’arba kanfos -to Jews everywhere – he needed as much free press he could muster.

    The ‘City of Refuge for the Jews’

    For this final installment of Noah’ s story, we arrive in 1825, Noah’ s fortieth year, when he designed to create a colony for all the world’s

    Jews… on Grand Island, New York, which sits between Buffalo and Niagara Falls.

    He called this refuge ‘Ararat’,
    We will now conclude this beguiling chapter of American Jewish history.

    One of the earliest examinations into Noah’s life and this plan was delivered on March 5th, 1866 by Lewis F. Allen, speaking before the Buffalo Historical Society, where, intriguingly, many distinguished individuals were likely in attendance:

    Millard Filmore – the twelfth President of the United States – had retired to Buffalo a decade earlier, and was honored with giving this society’s opening address (see Publications of the Buffalo Historical Society, 1876, volume 1, pp. 1-15).

    In addition, this Lewis F. Allen was the uncle to Grover Cleveland – soon become the twenty-second and twenty-fourth President of the United States. In 1855, eighteen-year-old Grover moved to Buffalo from New York to live with his Uncle Lewis. Lewis found Grover a job at the very same law firm for which President Filmore worked! Incredibly, by 1882, Grover would become Buffalo’s mayor; a year later he would become the Governor of New York; and one year after that he would be elected as President of the United States!

    With his likely audience now illuminated, here is what Lewis shared:

    “{Noah] had warm attachments and few hates…was a pundit in Hebrew law, traditions, and customs. He was loyal to his religion; and no argument or sophistry could swerve him from his fidelity or uproot his hereditary faith”. due to Noach who found rest for his teva on ‘har ararat’ (Bereishis 8:4).

    Lewis shares a story of a Christian who had written Noah seeking his opinion about a new missionary movement whose goal was converting Jews, R”l. Lewis admiringly describes Noah’s response:

    He replied, elaborately setting forth the principles, faith, and the policy of the Jewish people, their ancient hereditary traditions, their venerable history, their hope in the coming of the Messiah; and concluding by expressing the possibility that the modern Gentiles would sooner be converted to Jewish faith, then the Jews would convert to theirs”.

    This was a stunning statement for the time, when, lamentably, so many married and ‘converted’ outside the faith. Mordechai Meyers, mentioned in the last chapter, sadly took this path, and his children even took the their mother’s last name -becoming Bailey-Myers –so as to appear more Americanized (Ararat to Suburbia, p. 6).

    After painstakingly detailing the events leading to Noah’s plan, and relating the events on the day Ararat’s foundation stone was laid, Lewis shares the text of Noah’s proclamation. Here are excerpts, enough to get a sense of Noah’s heart, but also his naïveté:

    “…announcing to the Jews throughout the world, that an asylum is prepared… an asylum in a free and powerful country, where ample protection is secured to their persons, their property, and religious rights; an asylum in a country remarkable for its vast resources…where industry Is encouraged, education promoted, and good faith rewarded “….The asylum referred to is in the state of New York, the greatest state in the American confederacy… The desired spot …is called Grand Island, to be called ARARAT…It is my will that a census of the Jews throughout the world be taken… Those who prefer remaining in the several parts of the world …are permitted to do so. It is, however, expected, that they will aid and encourage the emigration of the young and enterprising…

    “The annual gifts which, for many centuries, have been afforded to our pious brethren in our holy city of Jerusalem, to which may God speedily restore us, are to continue with unabated liberality; our seminaries of learning and institutions of charity in every part of the world, are to be increased, in order that wisdom and virtue may permanently prevail among the chosen people. …

    “A capitation tax of three shekels in silver per annum, or one Spanish dollar, is hereby levied upon each Jew throughout the world… for the purpose of defraying the various expenses …

    “A judge of Israel shall be chosen once in every four years …I do hereby name the most learned and pious Abraham de Cologna, knight of the Iron Crown of Lombardy, grand Rabbi of the Jews, and president of the consistory of Paris, likewise the grand Rabbi Andrade of Bordeaux, and also our estimable grand Rabbis of the German and Portugal Jews, in London, Rabbis Herschell and Mendoza…

    “… ‘Keep the charge of the Lrd thy Gd, to walk in His ways, to keep his statutes and commandments, judgments, and testimonies, as it is written in the laws of Moses, that thou mayest prosper in all thou doest, and whithersoever thou turnest thyself’ {from Melachim 1, 2:3}…Given at Buffalo…Second day of Tishri, in the year of the world 5586, corresponding with the fifteenth day of September, 1825, and in the fiftieth year of American independence. A. B. Seixes, Sec’y. pro. tem.

    Noah’s signing secretary, Avraham Binyamin Seixas, was Chazan Gershom Seixes’ nephew. Both he and Mordechai grew up listening to Reb Gershom derashos where he commonly reminded the audience of our one true refuge. Although a celebrated American patriot, Reb Gershom affirmed this many times, e.g., in a 1789 derasha, he said:

    We are still in captivity among the different nations of earth. And though we are -through Divine goodness- made equal partakers of the government in these States, still we cannot but view ourselves as captives in comparison to what we were formally and expect to be hereafter…gathered together, as its says in Yishayahu 27:13 (‘Beholdon that day, a great shofar shall blast, those lost in the land of Assyria and those exiled in Egypt shall come and prostrate themselves before the Hashem on the holy mount in Yerushaklim’)”. (For more of such derashos of Reb Gershom, see Louis Ruchames, American Jewish Quarterly, vol. 64, 1975, pp. 201-203).

    In fact, this same pasuk was consistently repeated in their shul, in

    their teffila for the government, composed by Rabbi Hendla Yochanan van Oettingen, a local shochet from Amsterdam:

    “…As Thou hast granted to these thirteen States of America everlasting freedom,

    so mayst Thou bring us forth once again from bondage into

    freedom, and mayst Thou sound the great horn for our freedom [Isaiah 27:13] . . . May the Holy One, blessed be He, restore the presence of Zion and the order of service to Jerusalem. And may we be granted to gaze on the beauty of the Lrd and to behold His sanctuary…”

    Noah’s plan would ultimately fail, within months from its establishment. Grand Island was then purchased by…Lewis F. Allen!

    Noah mentions one Rabbi Avraham de Colgona, who served as Napoleon’s chief rabbi (successor to the Yad Dovid, Rav Joseph David Sinzheim, who once held this same Napoleonic position -a story for another time). However, Rav Colgona warned that while Noah was a “visionary of good intentions” his idea was “an act of high treason against the Divine Majesty”.

    While some in America were intrigued by the idea, many laughed it off. The Charleston Mercury (October, 4, 1825) published a blistering critique of Noah’s plan, signed it ‘Common Sense’, and thereafter this editorial was published in many other papers. Opening with a quote from the Merchant of Venice (a bad sign) and ending with the incongruousness of Noah wishing for both a refuge in America yet also praying for the restoration of Jerusalem – it seems the toxic idea of ‘dual- loyalty’ now entered American thought.

    Today, all that remains from that day in 1825 is the three-hundred- pound cornerstone. The frum historian, Dr. Sarna, succinctly concludes this odd chapter of American history by sharing how the “glass cover which (now) ‘protects’ the stone is also symbolic. It bespeaks the chimerical unreality and deep inner contradictions which doomed Ararat from the start” (Jacksonian Jew, p. 75).


    YOUston, HOWston, We All Scream for Houston!

    Gittin: A Map of History

    Yom chamishi of parshas emor, 5688 (1928),
    “To my dear friend Rav Yechezkal Abramsky, shlita, the av beis din of

    Slutzk:

    “I have received the get from the city of Houston in America on behalf of an agunah here [in Rav Moshe Feinstein’s town of Luban]. This get has many problems…”

    After seeking and finding an allowance for this questionable get, Rav Moshe concludes:

    “Nevertheless, there is still what to investigate, as it is clear that this rav is not proficient in these halachos…I am sending this rav (in Houston) a basic primer on hilchos gittin, for I fear that perhaps some/many other American rabbanim do not know the halachos of correct gittin…Your dear friend, Moshe Feinstein”
    (shu”t Igros Moshe, ev”h, 1:142)

    Rav Moshe then shared with Rav Abramsky a sharp letter he – Rav Moshe – composed and sent to this rabbi in Houston (ibid. 143):

    “ To Harav…of Houston, Texas, shlita

    “I received the get, yet I have yet to deliver it for [quoting from mishlei, 24:31]

    thistles had grown all over it; nettles had covered its face

    regarding matters where one should be more careful…but for an agunah

    we may perhaps allow it bdieved…I will judge you lkaf zechus, excused

    ©Moshe Taub//2023//moshemtaub@gmail.com

    due to not having a proficient sofer nearby, and perhaps there are other

    reasons…but I’m confused in that you honor yourself as a ‘baki’

    (proficient) in gittin’ yet still asked that I send you a primer of its basic

    laws and then treat it as a joke, clearly [from the get Rav Moshe later

    received] not even looking at it…”

    Rav Moshe then methodically shares with this rabbi each of the many

    halachic concerns with this get, including how even some of the names

    in the get were spelled incorrectly.

    Rav Moshe concludes the printed teshuva with a rare afterward:

    “After waiting a long time -until adar of 5689/1929 -and never receiving

    [anything from this rabbi], because she is an agunah, I relied on what I

    wrote [to Rav Abramsky]…and she may now marry…may Hashem aid

    me in never stumbling, heaven forfend, in a matter of halacha, ever”

    A noted posek shared with me a fascinating postscript to the above. Rav Nota Greenblatt, himself a talmud muvhak of Rav Moshe, told this posek that this Houston rav Iz nit gevein ah katil kanya (see Shabbos 95a); eir iz geven ah gantz feiner Talmud chacham -he was no simpleton, but a real talmud chacham”.

    Issues with gittin and local rabbanim can still arise. In 2008, I composed the following invitation to all Young Israel rabbanim:

    Rabbanim Chashuvim,
    It is a seminal moment for a young rav when HaRav Nota

    Greenblatt is called upon to assist in a get…having a competent posek on ‘standby’ -willing to fly out at a moment’s notice – is an invaluable resource…one small error on our part can, for example, create a get me’usah, R”l.

    “…We have arranged a ‘shiur klali’ on the topic of ‘Gittin L’Maaseh’ to be delivered by Rav Greenblatt, and open only to rabbannim…primarily focusing on matters critical for the ‘local rav’. This is an exceptional opportunity…”

    Aside for the obvious, the patient reader will be rewarded with a deeper connection the above -and what follows – has with the history of our early rabbanim.

    ©Moshe Taub//2023//moshemtaub@gmail.com

    In gittin, exactitude and meticulousness are indispensable; an error of omission or commission in any number of details can void the divorce contract in its entirety, possibly leading to the sullying of kedushas Yisroel, R”l.

    Simply determining the name(s) and spelling(s) can be mystifying to even the most erudite masmid.

    For instance, does ‘Monsey’ derive from the Munsee Indians (thereby necessitating an aleph)? Why is Muncie, Indiana spelled differently? (For the full story behind Monsey’s first get, The Jewish Observer, kislev 1976, by Rav Aryeh Kaplan, ‘A Get In Monsey’, p. 15- 19)

    Related confusion was found in Brisk, which was known by three different names! (On Brisk, see Pischei Teshuva, even haezer, siman, 128:31)

    It is astonishing to consider that even the uncommon expertise of ‘historical etymology’ becomes indispensable in writing gittin – ‘hufuch buh’, indeed!

    I will share two examples, which will both show its complexity and serve the reader in understanding the connection these halachos have with our history.

    A get will include both a city’s name and the name(s) of its water sources (see shu”t HaRan 42 with Shulchan Aruch, ibid.; cf. shu”t HaRosh 45;21). Not only does this remove the concern of confusing a get with that of another other city of the same name, but also because of consistency, as water sources will often maintain their original designations, even if/when its nearby city changes its name in the future.

    Nevertheless, shailos abound, for instance, Queens and Brooklyn include the phrase ‘…al nehar east river…’EDITOR-keep ellipses, as more waters are named before and after. While this seems redundant – as ‘nehar’ already means river or lake, thus translating to ‘East River river’, Rav Moshe Feinstein asserts that ‘east’ is not seen as a descriptive alone, but part of its title (Igros Moshe, even haezer 4:101, end).

    What about Houston, Texas -the city Rav Moshe mentioned above, in 1928? On the one hand, its pronounced youston, so yud, vav, samech, tes, nun would be its get spelling. On the other hand, on the Lower East Side is the famed ‘Houston Street’, which is pronounced howston! This shift in pronunciation derives from their two distinct origins. The street is named for one of America’s founding fathers, George Houston (d. 1813), who indeed pronounced it howston. The southern city is named for the Texas revolutionary general Sam Houston (d. 1863), who pronounced it youston!

    While we spell it in a get ‘youston’ (yud, vav, samech…), in Rav Moshe’s first teshuva above he first spells it ‘howston’ (hei, vav, yud…), switching in a later teshuva to the way we spell it today.

    In the sefer Ha’aretz L’Areha, the posek and get expert Rav Menachem Mendel Senderovic, shlita, shares a 1963 get from Houston still spelling it ‘howston, although he agrees with the ‘you’ spelling utilized today (p. 36, s.v. ‘houston’).

    All of the above should make the point that to discover who the early talmidei chachamim were in any given city, one can start by discovering said city’s earliest get. Indeed, this sefer is one of my ‘go-to’ references for this summer series.

    In Buffalo -the city we have spent this summer discussing – some of the earliest gittin were written by Rav Dov Ber Zuckerman (see ibid. p. 9, s.v. ‘buffalo’).

    Who was this gaon? And who were the others that served this city after the passing of the already discussed rebbe, Rav Rabinovitch, and Vilna’s Rav Franklin?

    The reader may be surprised…

    Kotler/Kotler, Singer/Singer
    The Cycles of History & Men of Mystery

    “‘Singer’ iz g’bleibin en ‘Sing Sing’”
    (‘Singer’ is now in Sing-Sing [a New York prison]) (February 26, 1935 edition of Der Morgon Journal)

    The above is one of the quirkiest headlines I have come across, and signifying the perils encountered when researching records. This ‘Singer’ is not the Rav Singer about whom we will be discussing below. Similar sounding names from a focused time-period can often lead to error or confusion.

    I was researching one R’ Yehoshua Heschel (Halbert) Singer, a chazan from Riga who arrived in Buffalo, New York in the 1890’s, where he served as chazan in the Bnei Brith Shul on Hickory Street (Buffalo Jewish Review, September 30th 1931, p. 48).

    Why research a turn-of-the-century Buffalo chazzan? Well, as we shall see, R’ Singer was a massive talmud chacham, publishing amazing sefarim during his Buffalo tenure. Additionally, these sefarim had haskamos from the likes of the Aderes and Rav Shlomo Nosson Kotler (more on the latter below).

    We seem to encounter a version of ‘maaseh avos siman l’banim’ when learning about our Torah history, and poignantly this is not the first ‘Cantor Singer’ and a ‘Rav Kotler’ we have examined. Three years ago, I had the privilege to write a cover feature for Ami about Rav Shlomo Singer, familiar to any talmud of HaRav Meir Stern, zol gezunt zein, as this retired ‘cantor’ -today the rosh yeshiva of PTI in Passaic – would attend every shiur. I shared how he and Rav Shneur Kotler found a reel-to-reel recorder, created a surreptitious hole in the ceiling, and

    ©Moshe Taub//2023//moshemtaub@gmail.com

    lowered a microphone into Rav Aron’s shiur room – allowing bachurim the amazing opportunity to chazer until they ‘got it’. A plan was conceived to let the rosh yeshiva know about these recordings. On Purim, with Rav Aron in attendance, a bachur delivered a shiur mimicking the rosh yeshiva’ s style and speech patterns (all in good humor). What Rav Aron didn’t know is that instead of speaking this bachur was mouthing a recording of Rav Aron from a covertly recorded shiur! Rav Aron commented that this was far from ‘Purim Torah’, rather substantive material! Coming from Kletzk, such technology wasn’t on his holy mind. The bachurim watched as it suddenly it dawned on their rosh yeshiva that he was listening to himself! Rav Aron didn’t get upset, rather had them assure him that they would protect all such recordings. It is from these reel-to-reel tapes that BMG publishes much of Rav Aron’s writings (i.e. Mishnas Rav Aaron)!

    I find it amazing, maybe Providential, that seventy-years earlier, another Cantor Singer and Rav Kotler helped Torah flourish in America.

    Before Buffalo, our turn-of-the-century R’ Singer spent significant time in the city of Poneviztch. Rav Eliyahu Dovid Rabinowitz-Teumim, known by his acronym the ‘Aderes’ shares this fact in his glowing 1903 haskama to R’ Singer’s sefer Mishneh Zikaron. The Aderes was then living in Yerushalaim, serving as the sgan to Rav Shmuel Salant. Woefully, although the Aderes arrived to eventually take over for the aging Rav Salant, he would pre-decease him; niftar at just sixty-two years old, in 1905.

    The Aderes there writes:
    “Although I do not write haskamos for works on derush and agada -as they demand serious review and I do not have that time -I have here made an exception…for the great darshan and one crowned with a good reputation, Rav Yehoshua Heshel Singer, now serving as chazan in the city of Buffalo, in America. I know him and his family as yorei shomyaim from my time in Ponevitzch, where I served for thirty-three years…What I have seen from this volume is sweet and his insights distinctive … this sefer’ s goal is to bring our brethren close to avinu
    sh’ bshomayim
    …”

    Several years earlier, he published another sefer from Buffalo titled Zikaron B’ sefer,, where one of the haskamos came from Rav Shlomo Nosson Kotler (d. 1945), who HaRav Lazer Gordon of Telz called the ‘Ketzos’ of our generation.

    Even more peculiar -and surprising that no one points out – is that in 1896 this Rav ‘Kotler’ would become the first rosh yeshiva of… Yeshivas Yitzchak Elchonon! Rav Spector was niftar in the early spring of 1896, and the graduates of Yeshivas Eitz Chaim (an elementary school) wanted to continue their learning in a formal setting, and deciding to name their new yeshiva in this gadol’ s name.

    That two major institutions in America had a founding rosh yeshiva by the same rare surname is…odd? Serendipitous? Coincidental? Meaningless?

    Before that, and at the time of his haskama, Rav S.N. Kotler moved from Lita to New York to serve as the sgan for Rav Yaakov Yosef. Speaking of last names, Rav Kotler writes the following in his haskama for R’ Singer’s fist Buffalo sefer:

    “Behold, I come as the messenger for the great gaon Rav Yaakov ‘Yozuhf’, the rav hakollel of the state of New York”. Rav Kotler’s odd spelling of Rav Yaakov ‘Yosef’ may resolve a question I’ve had for years: what was RJJ’s last name? R’ Kotler’s spelling ‘Yosef’ as yud, aleph, zayin, ayin, peh – יאזעף – may demonstrate that ‘Yosef/Yozuhf was his last name: Yosuhf, Rav Yaakov!)

    R’ Kotler mentions that Rav Singer was a chazan in Buffalo, and then writes that this sefer will “…inspire/light the hearts of bnei yisroel toward avinu sheboshamiym”.

    Rav Kotler then displays his own lomdus. “To prove that I perused this volume, I will share a thought on Rav Singer’s theory as to why eat dairy on Shavuos -suggesting it’s because until matan Torah dairy was forbidden, considered eiver min hachai. This is ostensibly, a brilliant peshat.

    He then proceeds to uproot this theory, demonstrating a tautology in Rav Singer’s assertion:

    “But the truth is that even before matan torah dairy would be allowed, for the entire discussion in the gemara (bechoros 5bff) of ‘kol hayotzei min hatmaei etc’ (what comes from a non-kosher animal is not kosher, and what comes from a kosher animal is kosher) is only learned from the Torah itself, and is the very rule that could cause one to even condsider milk as an eiver …meaning that only before mattan Torah was its permissibility clear”!

    I was unable to discover more about Rav Singer. He was niftar on the 8th of teves 5685 (1925) and is buried near the Buffalo rebbe. (As for the life of Rav Shlomo Nosson Kotler, this will have to wait for another time, iy”H)

    Another Buffalo personage from around this period is one R’ Aron Yosef Bloch, who also wrote several sefarim in Buffalo, and is a mystery. His sefarim are powerful and poetic. In 1924 the shaar blatt to his sefer Hamavchin states that he has dwelled in America already for thirty-two years!

    Before this sefer he wrote an anonymous sefer titled Likutei R”iav (an acronym for Rav Aron Yosef Bloch).

    Rav Heschel Greenberg, who has served as a shliach in Buffalo for the past fifty years, showed me from his vast library another sefer written by this same Rav Bloch. It’s an edition of the Chayay Adam by Rav Danzig with Rav Bloch’s commentary, titled Lev Adam. I have been unable to find this sefer anywhere else, nor have I been able to discover any more information about this enigmatic Rav Bloch.

    While this column’s circles of history have been exorbitant enough, I would be remiss not to point out the fortuitousness that Rav Greenberg’s library aided me in writing this chapter. In the 1930’s, Rav Greenberg’s father, the gaon Rav Meir Greenberg zt”l, contacted the-then Scranton-living Rav Dovid Yehudah Singer – the father of presnt-day’s, Rav Singer, shlita of Passaic- urging him to move to a makom Torah so that his children can become bnei Torah!

    It all comes full circle!
    While we have not yet arrived at the more recent rabbanim of Buffalo-and the mesadrei gittin alluded to in the last chapter -this will have to wait until the next monograph, iy”H,

  • A Ger Teaches Us How To Respond to Rav Chaim Kanievsky’s Passing

         April, 2022

    Rabbis get the most interesting visitors to their offices, reporters, priests, politicians, etc.

    But by far, at least for me, the most noteworthy visitors are those who express a desire to become Jewish. It took several years for me to learn the best way to handle such a situation.

    On the one hand, we want the process of conversion to be painless, but it does have to be rigorous. Chazal often speak about the dangers of pushing a potential convert away, in one instance even blaming the birth of Amalek on such misconduct (Shabbos 88).

    On the other hand, we are taught the dangers of accepting those who come with ulterior motives, and the havoc that can be wrought by a beis din that accepts a ger too quickly (see Yevamos 109b with Meiri). Some poskim even recommend waiting a full year from the day a person expresses his wish to convert so that all parties are certain it’s the right thing to do (see Mishnas Rabbi Eliezer, to the effect that this has been the longstanding custom of batei din).

    Most famously, we are commanded to inform the potential convert of the difficulty of abiding by the Torah (Yevamos 47b) and the hardships experienced by the Jewish nation (Shulchan Aruch 268).

    One such convert was a young woman named Miriam. She came to my office fresh out of a local Catholic high school and was clearly nervous. It was obvious that stepping into a rabbi’s office frightened her, as if she were breaking some code. Interestingly, when she spoke, she came across like a Bais Yaakov girl. She was very eidel, and her tznius was remarkable.

    She told me that she had known for some time that she wanted to convert but needed to wait for the right moment. I began my shpiel in response, but I had forgotten to consider that she had grown up in the age of the internet: She had come to my office well informed and had already geared up for her long journey.

    Miriam ended up spending a year in seminary, and she continued to move toward geirus until she and the beis din felt that she was ready. I was living in Queens when she called to ask if she could come to my office to take the geirus test that had been prepared by the Toronto beis din. I explained that the test consisted of close to 1,500 questions and that people generally took it over the course of several days.

    “How long would it take if I did it in one shot?” she asked, undeterred.

    “I don’t know. Maybe eight or nine hours,” I surmised.

    She was so anxious to become a member of the am hanivchar that she didn’t care if her arm fell off from writing. She just wanted to be a Jew! She filled out question after question—queries about hilchos Shabbos, Yom Tov, the Jewish calendar, important expressions and terms, cultural ideas, history, minhagim, kashrus. Yiddishkeit covers everything, and so did this exam! No potential convert is expected to ace this test—and few frum Jews would either—but Miriam excelled. She converted very soon afterward.

    Sometime after her conversion, she got engaged to a wonderful young bachur who is now a kollel yungerman. Some five years later, she is a true eishes chayil and rebbetzin to this talmid chacham, and they live in the Five Towns.

    For the first several years, like many other geirim, she found it easier to call a rav she knew in case her question would make it obvious that she hadn’t grown up frum.(Not that it matters, but her questions were always informed; in fact, she knows more than most people.)

    There is a reason I am sharing her story this week, at a time when Jews around the world are reeling from the petirah of Rav Chaim Kanievsky, zt”l.

    We all know where we were when we found out that Rav Chaim was niftar. I was on the phone with my father in Eretz Yisrael, and we stayed on the phone for a few minutes in relative silence, taking in the news. After I hung up, I composed a message for my shul and sat in silence again. Then I got a text that shook me to the core.

    It was from Miriam, wanting to know if and when she was required to tear kriah!

    It was only after hearing this holy sh’eilah that I broke down, the full weight of the loss of Rav Chaim crashing down on me like a tidal wave. It made me realize how personally his passing is affecting so many diverse people in klal Yisrael. After composing myself sufficiently to call her back, I found her in tears, sobbing for the loss to our nation and hardly able to speak.

    I told her how much her sh’eilah meant to me and to all of us. Sometimes we need our very own Yisro to open our eyes! I explained to her that Chazal made her point when they stated: “Chacham she’meis hakol kerovav, when a chacham dies, we are all his relatives” (Mo’ed Katan 25a).

    Indeed, the Shulchan Aruch rules that one is to tear kriyah “for a talmid chacham of whom one can ask any question and he is able to answer it” (Yoreh Dei’ah 340:7). This psak seems to apply clearly to Rav Chaim. Why, then, didn’t we all tear kriyah?

    There are several reasons. First, the Rema says that we only do so for our own personal rebbi or in unusual circumstances. The Aruch Hashulchan also explains that in our time, we don’t have chachamim who can answer on every topic in Torah, in accordance with the teaching of Chazal (Taanis 10) that such a person must be able to answer questions even on the less-studied minor tractates.

    But wait! Rav Chaim not only knew these tractates inside and out; he wrote sefarim on many of them as well!

    Then I saw in the name of the Zachor L’Avraham (Yoreh Dei’ah #11) that the reason we no longer tear kriyah for our gedolim is that there would be no end to it. Even today, we have so many geonim that if we tore kriyah for each one, we would soon have no garments left to tear (see Nitei Gavriel, Aveilus, Cheilek Alef,p. 281, footnote #5).

    Accordingly, the fact that most people didn’t tear kriyah for Rav Chaim is the greatest honor we can give him—for it is thanks to him that there has been such a proliferation of Torah scholars in our era.

    May he be a meilitz yosher for us all!

  • Vegans, Vegetarians, and Sensitivity

    See alos the post titled, “Judaism and Veganism”

       March, 2022    

    Almost all complaints I have received for something I’ve said -say, during a drasha – was about words perceived or inferred as being political. I once said before an election, “We have a moral obligation to vote” which someone understood as a push for a party that is professed to focus on ‘morals’.

          A pulpit rabbi must be careful not to even give the appearance that he is letting his politics and general worldviews cloud his role as a posek and leader. All it takes is one unnecessary statement -unrelated to Torah -and one can turn someone off for years.

          This was certainly true during Covid where there are passionate views on all sides which sometimes irrevocably destroy family and shul dynamics.

        However, in more intimate settings this can be tricker to avoid, and it is where a rav must use extreme caution, e.g. a walk home from shul, or guests by a Shabbos seudah.

             The conversation-not to mention wineis flowing, and a deeper connection is being sought on both ends. It is during these moments that people will feel comfortable asking for my opinion on matters not necessarily related to Torah, or even hashkafa; topics I would generally avoid unless in a shiur setting.

             A relaxing seudah is not a senate hearing; I can’t answer every question with a ‘No comment’, or, ‘On the advice of counsel, I plead the fifth’ for the entirety of the meal!

           Recently, we noticed a guest who was hardly eating. While I would never point this out, the guest herself must have felt awkward, and so shared that she is a vegan -abstaining not just from all meat, poultry and fish, but also eggs, milk, etc.

        My Shabbos table might be considered a vegan’s worst nightmare. While my wife makes wonderful salads and exquisite deserts, one can’t avoid homemade ptcha, gribbeness, and even the shmaltz I make to shmear on my challah, etc. I may have personally caused the inflated price of oil this year!

         Before I continue, I would urge that guests always make their hosts aware of this, or any food allergies, before Shabbos. Far from being intrusive, it aids one’s hosts in making sure the guest will enjoy  their food and company.

         Growing up in the 80’s I was almost alone in my peanut allergy and learnt the hard way to always share my allergy before the host begins their preparations. Sometimes, even that didn’t work back when food allergies were rare. Once I was eating a desert at a friend’s home when I realized there was a distinct peanut taste in the desert. The mother said, “Oy! You’re also allergic to peanut butter?”!!

        I did not aim to initiate a discussion on my guest’s dietary choice. However, she then sincerely asked me what I thought of her food ethics. And, as a rabbi, continued to ask of me, “Do you think this is an issue in halacha?”

       Now, like the reader, I too have personal opinions on this matter. But my job as a rabbi is not to be a part of the legislative branch (who makes the rules) -that ended with chazal -rather to be a representative of the judicial branch; seeking simply to understand and then share the words of our mesorah as handed down to us.

          So what did I share with this guest?

            To be sure, we are all rachmanim bnei rachmanim, and we may not cause avert, needless and senseless pain to any of Hashem’s creatures. Rav Moshe Feinstein even writes that when we kill even a bug it must only be for a need, and even then, we should not do so directly (shu’t Igros Moshe, choshen mishpat, 2:47). People who make this diet choice for the above moral reason do not only mean well, but we have what to learn from them. Nevertheless, certain hashkafa and world realties must sometimes be made clear.

          Often one has medical or dietary reasons for such a choice. By the mitzvah of the nazir, the pasuk states “…and he shall atone…” (Bamidbar 6:11). To this, a bereissa wonders, “Rabbi Elazar HaKafar b’rebbe asked ‘In what way did this person sin?  He afflicted himself by abstaining from wine! From this one can make a kal v’chomer: just as this person who afflicted himself by abstaining only from wine is nevertheless called a sinner, one who afflicts himself by abstaining from everything [through fasting -Rashi] all the more so is he as well described as a sinner’” (Bava Kama 91b, Taanis 11, Nazir 19).

         Does this mean one can never choose on their own to abstain from a particular food item? Rav Moshe Feinstein was asked if there is any issue in restricting food to lose weight for cosmetic reasons. He proves that so long as one is doing so for another enjoyment -e.g., to feel healthy -then there is no concern in abstaining. Rav Moshe does however warn that making oneself stam hungry -by not eating anything for long periods of time – is something that at times should be avoided unless there is a particular need (shu’t Ig’m, ibid. #47, last paragraph).

          So then, if someone is just personally ‘grossed-out’ by animal flesh, there is no concern in abstaining. However, if one informs me that they think killing/eating animals is morally wrong, we have the obligation to share certain information, if they are sincere and willing to learn. Of course, hashkafa at first may seem to find some area of agreement. Only after the mabul were we allowed to eat meat. Ramban goes as far as to say that our current state is the unnatural one, and by zman moshiach -Yeshayahu 65:25, et al. -will be the returning to the natural order of even animals not harming each other. However, to state that what Hashem and the Torah now sanction -and indeed sanctifies by way of kodshim –is something ‘immoral’ can’t be tolerated as a Torah worldview.

           Academics -and I have hosted many -especially those who are not-yet-frum will start pushing back on this, challenging me in the name of famed vegan philosopher Peter Singer that there is no way to morally justify killing animals for our pleasure, and since we know Hashem anyway desires a world like that one day, what would be wrong from abstaining for this reason.

         To this, I gently remind them of two important points. First, virtue can never be tied to a specific epoch. Real virtue must be accessible in every generation and in all circumstances. Just because someone in 2022 of even modest wealth can afford and find many options to eat a healthy diet -with protein- without consuming meat, doesn’t make it true for someone in other times and places. Does one believe we would be here today without meat? There were no Impossible Burgers -or even large vegetable sections -in the shtetle, and on the many fields of battle that give us the bounty we now enjoy.

          But secondly, there is a larger point to consider. When I eat a steak, one animal died. But when one chooses a salad instead, they have caused the death of untold thousands of living creatures! For produce to grow, pesticides and even animals are used to kill bugs, vermin, and even mammals from destroying one’s crops. Then, when the fruit or vegetable is ready to be harvested, millions more of living things are killed when the tractors roll threw to suck up the potato you are now eating. And then, when you finally buy and make your animal-killing salad, one is either chalila eating or hopefully removing even more living things. I then end with a joke to lighten the mood. “Caesar Salad can indeed be a great source of protein!”

        Maybe this is why they chose the name ‘Impossible Burger’, for there is simply no way not to cause the death of living things no matter how ‘pure’ our diet chooses may be. It is, in fact, ‘impossible’.

          The Aruch Hashulchan alludes to this when he points out that even a walk in a woody area in the summertime likely results in our swallowing countless living organisms! (See there why this would not be a halachic concern).

         All the above leads to a question many rabbanim have been getting of late. “Why can’t I eat at vegetarian restaurants with questionable hashgachos? After all, what really could be the issue?”

         To be discussed iy’H next week.

  • The Superbowl Halftime Shiur

    The Superbowl Halftime Shiur

    When Should Rabbis Set Boundaries? A Reflective Discussion

    January, 2022

    When I worked for the state as a chaplain in the NYS penitentiary

    system I was allowed to make my own schedule. This meant that the

    inmates would not know which day I would be coming, rather an

    announcement would go out when I arrived that the rabbi is here and

    that all Jewish inmates should go to his office if they would like to meet

    with him.

         Because of such impromptu visitation I had no appointment

    ledger, rather, when I came, it was first come first served.

    On one such day I noticed that there were more people waiting outside

    my office than usual. After a few private one-on-ones I heard several

    chairs move at once and looked up to see five large, menacing looking

    men walk into my office. They were clearly not Jewish. This much I can

    say, “I was not ‘not’ scared”.

          I waited for them to speak first, as I was not about to say the wrong

    thing.

         “Rabbi”, their foreman began, “If we ask you a question do you promise us to tell the truth?”

        “Of course,” I guardedly replied.

          “Well Rabbi, you are a man of Gd and therefore you have access to

    information that common folk and criminals like us do not…”

         ‘Where was this going?’ I wondered to myself.

    “…We need you to tell us something, and we promise not to share it

    with anyone else: Who is going to win the Super-Bowl tonight?”

         I could not fathom that simple faith these criminals had in clergy!

             In prison, like on the outside, there is a lot riding on this game. While prisoners do not have cash on hand to gamble, they do bet with

    cigarettes and, sometimes, contraband.

          I explained that if I indeed had such powers, I would use it to benefit

    myself and would not be in a prison office on a Sunday afternoon surrounded by convicts!

        I grew up in Canada, and football was never really on my radar. When I moved to Buffalo, that changed. There, before ‘the big game’ I found that I received many varied and unique inquiries, mostly relating to kashrus,

          “May parve chili in a milcheg pot be served with Buffalo Chicken Wings?” (Possibly)       

             “Is it feasible to kasher a deep fryer…to fry Buffalo wings?” (Best to avoid)

     “May an avel attend a ‘Superbowl Party’”? (No)

       “Is it permissible to gamble on sporting events?” (Beyond the scope of this column, see Shul Chronicles ‘Gambling in Halacha and with a Dreidel).

            But there is one question that comes up every year at this time about which I am the one struggling.

         Before the reader continues, it is critical to point out that I am not chalila questioning anyone who is unperturbed by what I will now share. Nor would I ever dare think that I am ‘frummer’, holier or in any way more special and more kodosh than those who find no issue with what I am about to mention. Indeed, many of the chashuvim who find no issue with this are beyond me in middos, kedusha and wisdom -there are many who can attest to that fact!

         Indeed, I am hoping readers share their (respectful!) thoughts on this matter.

           When I first moved to New York, one of my wonderful ballabtim asked if I would give a shiur at halftime of ‘the big game’, perhaps a call-in, or via an internet stream. At first, his request didn’t compute.     

          Surely, he doesn’t mean that at halftime of a television sporting broadcast. But he did. And, indeed, many ballabattim -who are holier than I –do attend such events every year, given by rabbanim far greater than I, and performed by organizations whose zechusim I could only dream of being a part,

        I come now not to argue with them, but to express why I have been hesitant; why this issue has vexed me for seven years. I have struggled with this, and indeed -thus far -have not done it.

          I consider myself a baal sechel, I struggle with every rabbinic decision I make. I certainly do not always get it right, but I come to all decisions in good faith. If I have a column on the rabbinate, it is only fair to share this very real ongoing inner dialogue.

         For fifteen years kn’ah, I have been telling my children almost every week by havdala that the most important beracha in our generation is lahavdil bein kodosh l’chol. It doesn’t say lahavdil bein kodosh l’issur -to separate between the holy and the forbidden, or, lahavdil bein kodosh l’tumah –to separate between the holy and the impure. Rather to separate between the holy and the mundane.

        Now, should rabbanim be realistic that many very frum and pure members are watching ‘the big game’? Of course! But should we then mish arein? I am not so sure.

         Of course, if I was asked to give a shiur during the entirety of the game, thereby allowing people another option, and even those watching the game to tune in at ‘halftime’ or at other points -that would be one thing. But to incorporate a Torah or a ruach event around the game? I’m not so sure.

         My wife -who knows how unworthy I am to be the one making this argument -is always my best advisor. She responded, “But instead of things that are inappropriate they will be learning! How could you ever be against that?!”

         To this I said, “I hear you. However, there are times that it is up to each individual to have the training wheels taken off and make that choice themselves. My job is not just to make sure that halacha and Torah is kept today, during these fifteen minutes, rather that it can continue for generations. Like football, lahavdil ad lanetzach, our mesorah too is a game of inches. Keep giving, mixing, more here and a little more there, where will our great-grandchildren be?!

        Those that read this column understand I never use this space to question the views of others or to argue on other rabbanim. So you can trust when I say that this is not my goal this week either. Rather, I am sharing a choice that I made -while not ignoring that others may differ.

            Chazal share how Yirmiyahu compared us to an olive (Yirmiyahu 11:16). They teach that is because like its oil, we don’t mix (Shmos Rabbah 36:1). Does this mean that we learn during halftime, unlike them? Or does this mean that we have our rav give a ‘halftime’ shiur?

        I imagine the readership is split between those who cannot believe such official shiurim and events take place in the first place, and those bewildered that I would question them.

         I agree with both of those views!

            I am not wise enough to know the answer. So I opt for the tried -and-true, shev v’al taaseh adif -best to be mistaken by an error of omission than an error of commission.

  • Rabbanus, Family & My First Grade Rebbe

    Rav Dovid Moseson, z”l

    October, 2021

         I am allergic to peanuts. Indeed, when I was growing up my allergy was so unheard of that many teachers thought I was making it up. I share this bit of personal information so that the reader does not find what I will write next to be coming from a place of insensitivity.

        In the late 1990’s, congress had the idea of developing nationalized testing for school-age children. A committee of veteran educators and a prominent publishing house were brought together to create such workbooks.  The goal was to make any material interesting, to use vital information to tell a story. But the censors always seemed to find a reason to disallow material.

        One example: for younger grades, they chose to teach about the clash of civilizations in the New World through the story of peanuts. Peanuts were first cultivated by Natives of South America and were then brought to Europe. The booklet taught how this legume would soon become vital in the Slave Trade, and, in a twist of irony, would give the black inventor of many additional uses for peanuts much acclaim, etc.

        The reader can guess why this was rejected: “…A fourth grade student who was allergic to peanuts might get distracted if he or she encountered a test question that did not acknowledge the dangers of peanuts”.

       Even if true, who, pray tell, will teach kids the skill of avoiding the temptation of distraction?!

         What started twenty years ago has spread and increased. In 1998 the government funded a book titled Quit It! geared to teachers. There it was suggested that through the third grade the following exercise should be considered before a game of ‘tag’ by recess:

    Before going outside to play, talk about how students feel when playing a game of Tag. Do they like being chased? Do they like doing the chasing? How does it feel to get tagged out?”

       Today, in many school districts across the country, the game of Dodgeball has been banned (Boston Globe, march 29, 2001). One director of Phys-Ed in his district said that we should “fire immediately” any coach who allows Dodgeball (it’s a good thing they never heard of machanaim!).

        Of course, I am not dismissing the need for sensitivity and originality in our chinuch. Rav Yaakov Weinberg, the late rosh yeshiva of Ner Yisroel once spoke at an Agudah Convention about his distaste for Color War, as it divides a whole camp, or yeshiva, for an extended period of time, risking turning them against each other.

        There are reasons to take a fresh look at everything, but there also must be limits.

         I bring up this subject due to an ‘experience’ I recently had.

            In the midst of a busy yom tov season, a rav can forget that he has a family. My wife sometimes even has a friend text me her own shailos just so I don’t push it off and will indeed get back to her right away (see Yevamus 65b)!

          One morning, as I was leaving a shiva house, my wife called and said, “Where are you? He is waiting for you at the door. He looks so cute in his new knapsack!”

         It was my son’s first day of first grade, and in the hubbub of yom tov preparation it had completely slipped my mind. I rushed home, picked him up, and before we knew it, we were on our way to his first day where he will be sitting behind a desk.

        We have kn’h four girls, and our youngest is our only son, so as I looked at him through the rearview mirror, I could not help but to flash-back to my time in first grade (or ‘Grade One’, as we called it in Canada).

        Suddenly, I was right back in the classroom, I could even smell my tuna sandwich leaking through the paper bag, and the aroma of the stained copies off the old ‘ditto’ (mimeograph) machine.

         One can learn a lot about a person by discovering their earliest memories. Childhood Amnesia is a real concept, finding that most adults have no memories before the age of about three, and many more retain little before the age of ten. This is an area of increasing study.

         I went to Eitz Chaim of Toronto. It was an amazing chinuch, filled with talented rebbeim and michanchim. The reader is very familiar with the staff of my youth -even if they do not realize it. The popular Marvelous Middos Machine series was a creation – together with R’ Abie Rottenberg – of the rebbeim, their friends, and many of my classmates (alas, I couldn’t carry a tune, so one won’t find me in the liner notes).

        My first grade rebbe was Rabbi Dovid Moseson. He was gentle, kind and most importantly, sincere.

         He had already taught first grade in Toronto for many decades at the point. He was an old-time Williamsberg-er, having leant in Torah V’Daas in its early days.

         But that morning, just weeks ago, only one memory came forth. I do not know why this is the one my brain had collected for its hard drive. Indeed, when calling old classmates this week to hear their memories, each shared something different (I did not remember that he was a talented artist who would draw for frum publications, and, compose an artist’s rendering of each week’s parsha for the class).

        That one and only memory I had was the following:

         We were sitting in the classroom with the lights off. Rebbe had put on a record (remember those?!). It was a story, acted out. There was the chosid, the town rav and the nearby rebbe. I can still hear the sound effects of the baal agalah galloping-away in my ear.

         Rebbe’s head was down, but he was clearly listening to every word of that story/album. One of the characters said, “…but he passed away many years ago…”.

       Suddenly, we all heard the scratch of the needle being pulled away, and rebbe quickly turned on the lights.

        “Kinderlach”, he began ever so gently, “We will get back to the story in a minute”. Long pause. “Did you all hear the words he just said? Does anyone hear know what that means, to ‘pass away’?

        I remember still thinking then that I did not know what that term meant.

          Ever so gently, tenderly, he explained to us the concept of death, olam habah and techias hameisim. As first graders, we were certainly all aware of the concept, but now we were getting an ‘official’ explanation to this scary mystery. I still recall a wave of relief falling over me and the shedding of fear from deep within me.

         I do not know if schools would allow rebbeim to talk about such topics today, but that would be a shame, if placed in the right hands. Children are far more resilient than we often give them credit for, and indeed sometimes desire frank explanations (again, if done by a proper mechanech).

         There is also another lesson in chinuch we should take from this. We often put on tapes or music to quiet our children. How often has Schwekey or Mordechai Shapiro babysat our children? We may use these tools to shut off the noise around the house, but we did not shut down our children’s’ minds. They are processing everything they hear and see.      

        Sometimes we have to stop the record -of the MP3 -and explain what they just heard, especially when it’s a difficult topic. 

          We just may create a hashkafa and a memory that will last forever.

  • You Can be ‘Koneh’ Anyone

    Being a Rav During Trying Times

    December, 2018

    I am writing this article from my car, in the parking lot of a funeral home.
    But first…
    Adverse possession is a legal term that most laymen don’t know, but it is a
    concept that should be known to most yeshivah bachurim.

    From Wikipedia: “Adverse possession, sometimes colloquially described as ‘squatter’s rights,’ is a legal principle that applies when a person who does not have legal title to a piece of property—usually land (real property)—attempts to claim legal ownership based upon a history of possession or occupation of the land without the permission of its legal owner.”

    Every state views this concept differently. For example, in New York State,

    it would take ten years of “squatting” to make it possible for a property to be
    granted to the squatter, and even then, only if the squatter was using the property continuously during that period and in an open manner.
    While this law may sound bizarre and inexplicable, many bnei Torah are likely reminded of a similar halachah in the third perek of Bava Basra, Chezkas Habatim, which introduces—perhaps to the secular world as well—the idea of chezkas habatim b’gimmel shanim. The halachah describes
    adverse possession of property that can take place in three years (as opposed to New York State’s ten). However, there is a critical distinction between the secular law and its possible source in the Gemara.
    The New York Times reported (2007), “The court ruled that even if a person knew the property he was using was not his, he could indeed make a claim of adverse pos- session, provided the time period and the other elements were met.”
    In other words, while Chazal only used such squatting as proof of ownership should the legal owner no longer have his title at hand, in secular law it can be used as an actual form of acquisition, ripping away from someone what we know to be rightfully his!
    All of this, while interesting, is just to introduce a pun I invented last week.
    I had recently mentioned in this space the talk I gave at a rabbinic training seminar. There was more to that story.

    The evening was dedicated to the topic of end-of-life issues. The first speaker was Rabbi Elchonon Zohn, head of the Queens Vaad chevrah kaddisha and one of the world’s leading askanim in matters of chesed shel emes. He is also the founder and president of NASCK, the National Association of Chevra
    Kadisha. Rabbi Zohn is the person to whom chevrah kaddisha members in other cities turn when they need help—for example, assistance in stopping an autopsy or arranging for a meis to be flown to Eretz Yisrael.

    His speech was followed by dinner. I was to speak afterward, focusing on the
    topic of levayos. When I arrived during dinner, Rabbi Zohn looked at me and said in a humorous tone, “They had to find one of the few
    rabbanim who is also a kohen to give the shiur on levayos?” Of course he was joking, but we all knew he had a point.
    However, I explained to Rabbi Zohn and Rabbi Hammer, the event organizer, that I viewed my topic simply as a suggested one.
    I began my shiur by saying, “I am a kohen, and you may be wondering why
    I would give a shiur on this topic. There is an important lesson in the fact that a kohen can serve as a rav. Whereas we have
    a famous rule of chezkas habatim b’gimmel shanim, a more important rule for rabbanim to be aware of is this: ‘Chezkas baalei batim b’shivah yamim’—one can be ‘koneh’ a baal habayis during the seven days of mourning.
    “These are the moments when a rav can show why he is needed in people’s lives; this is when a rav can foster real, long-lasting relationships.

    Whether you are a kohen or a new rav, whether you are asked to give a hesped or not, never let these opportunities go.”

    I shared with them that I had recently missed a levayah, and although it was
    painful, the most important thing is that the rav be there for the family, both before a death and after.
    I spent the next two hours exploring counseling issues, what a rav should say
    and do during a hospital visit, when he is informed of a death, and at other important times. I also discussed the importance of a rav having frum medical and mental health professionals on speed dial.
    I stressed that a rav needs to visit a choleh who is a member of his congrega-
    tion every day, and even if he can only make it once a week, the goal of a daily
    visit must remain the standard.

    I explained that in the case of a tragedy, it is impossible to give instructions for what to say; rather, a rav needs to surrender to siyata dishmaya. He cannot plan such remarks in advance.
    After the shiur, having recounted some of the more painful experiences I had had in the rabbinate, I was emotionally knocked out.
    The next morning, Erev Shabbos, I was teaching in Shevach High School. For some reason, I had forgotten to shut off my cellphone.

    Suddenly, the phone was attacked by calls and text messages. Some-
    one in my shul, a young man with a family, had been run over by a car!
    I left the class and ran to the hospital, wondering what I could say. I had been
    so confident the night before that this answer always comes, but I was running on empty.

    Rav Chaim Shmuelevitz used to tell students that sometimes all that people in pain need is a hug and the rav’s tears.
    Although the young man was severely injured, over the next few days he began to rally and had a miraculous recovery.

    The following Monday, I was in the hospital visiting him when my phone was deluged once again by texts and calls.
    Another congregant’s relatively young brother had been niftar suddenly and
    without warning. I left the hospital and made some return calls.
    I knew the brother, who had suffered from a host of issues. He had often stayed with his brother and had come to our shul on Shabbos. He was a gentle soul who had been a tremendous masmid as a
    young man. When he was about 18 years old, he was afflicted with a number of ills that made it impossible for him to learn.
    He became a shivrei haluchos, and his three brothers took amazing care of him.
    When he stayed with his brother for Shabbos, he would force him to go to my Daf Yomi shiur with him. He wanted to be surrounded by the kol Torah even though he could no longer embrace it mentally.
    His love of Torah was built into his DNA.
    What could I say to a brother, a caretaker, after such a loss? Again, a hug and a tear.

    And so I am writing this article from my car in the parking lot of the funeral home.
    After leaving the kohen room and not being able to go to the cemetery, I know I can show my love and care in the coming week.
    Bila hamaves lanetzach u’machah Hashem Elokim dimah mei’al kol panim!

  • One Fine Day:                            24 Hours in a Rabbi’s Life

    One Fine Day: 24 Hours in a Rabbi’s Life

    December, 2018

    I.

    Some maxims seem to have always existed, invented by no one in particular and yet known by all.

    The adage “When it rains, it pours”—typically signifying unpleasantness hitting someone in droves—would be seen as just
    such a proverb.
    However, while this saying may seem to be self-generated, it indeed has a known genesis.
    At the turn of the last century there was an odd problem with the salt that people were buying. Not only was it coarse and uneven, but also when it was humid or rainy outside, the granules would stick together, which would inhibit its ability to pour out. Even when it would pour out, it would fall in large clumps, which would
    often ruin dishes.
    In 1911, the Morton Salt Company figured out that by adding magnesium carbonate to its salt it could inhibit clumping.

    They soon hired the famous advertising company N.W. Ayer & Son to come with a slogan for this breakthrough technology.

    They settled on the very positive-meaning “When it rains, it pours,” meaning that even when it rains outside your salt will still
    be able to pour out flawlessly! This soon led to the now famous Morton Salt logo of a child holding an umbrella, thereby being
    blocked from the rain.
    Ironically, although invented as a positive, this adage now has negative connotations.

    This past week, and on one day in particular, this saying came to mind.

    II.

    Wednesday morning, the third day of Chanukah, began like a typical day.

    In fact, Chanukah is almost a mini-vacation for me. Aside for my duties in my shul and my vaad, I teach at the local Beis Yaakov, and have the zechus to do some teaching in Yeshivas Noviminsk, Yeshivas Springfield and Yeshivas Telshe-Riverdale.
    However, during the week of Chanukah I am not asked to come in, which gives me a chance to catch-up on other matters. Specifically, this is the time of year when I begin putting together the next year’s kashrus teudos, the letters of certification that each
    company receives at the beginning of the new billing cycle.

    However, and without getting into specifics, as I began to work on these, and speaking with some of the companies, it became clear that three of them needed an immediate visit so as to address issues that had just arisen.

    The problem was that these three companies are in three separate states!

    While we often hire mashgichim to go on our behalf, these issues would be best and quickest resolved if I went myself.
    I quickly booked a ticket to an airport that was in between all the factories, and reserved a car. I was to arrive late Wednesday night, drive the three hours to where factory number one was, stay over, and be there first thing in the morning. This would then allow me to drive the rest of the 250 miles or so on Thursday, visit the other factories, make minchah in Columbus and fly home to light at about 9 p.m.
    Okay, hectic, but manageable.

    Es ‘chata’ai’ ani mazkir hayom“, I booked my flight through SkipLagged, a legally protected site that offers the cheapest tick-
    ets out there. Their secret is stopovers. So, for example, if you want to fly from New York to Denver but the cheapest ticket is $700, they will fly to Charlottesville that has a stopover in Denver for $320. You simply do not get on the connecting flight!
    This is called “hidden city” pricing.
    I asked a lawyer and was told that it’s perfectly legal; however, I was feeling uncomfortable. It seemed to smack against
    yashrus and emes (see my post “Daniel’s Deals” regarding the issues of ‘theft’ in advetizing airlines’ mistakes, etc.)

    This would later come back to haunt me.


    III.

    Before I left, I made sure to stop by the hospital to visit a member of my shul who has been ill for some time. His disease was eating away at him for months, and he is not lucid or able to speak any-
    more.

    There is not much to say on such visits, and I usually recite Tehillim. But being that it was Chanukah, I sang to him most of
    Hallel. I kissed him on the forehead and went home to get ready for the airport.
    As soon as I took my seat on the plane I received a call. I had that “feeling” as soon as I heard the ring. This member is now a gossess (in the finality of life, when even touching them may hasten death is to be avoided), I was told.

    When the plane landed later that night, I received another phone call, the inevitable.
    Baruch Dayan Ha’emes. They had passed.
    An already difficult trip was now made even harder. After speaking to the new widow, I realized that with the levayah scheduled for first thing in the morning, there was simply no way to make it back in time.

    Being that I am a kohen, and it being Chanukah, which forbids hespedim, I was at least relieved that I would be in their home
    for Shacharis first thing Friday morning. Nevertheless, I was a wreck, torn up that I was stuck in no man’s land when a
    member passed away and a family needed support.


    IV.

    There is something very lonely about kashrus travel. It is not just that one is literally by himself, but religiously one is by himself. Often, on such trips I wonder—as I bentch, let’s say—if this
    area of the country has ever yet heard the shem Hashem uttered (see a post from 2011 where such a thought was wrong, as I soon discovered that one of the earliest Jewish graveyards in America was just a mile from where I was then bentching in this middle-of-nowhere town!).

    That is what I was thinking I was walking into the first plant Thursday morning, located in Nowhere, USA.
    “I am probably the only Jew this manager has ever met,” I thought to myself.

    But I was wrong.

    Somehow we got to talking and he revealed something he never shared with me before. Years before he was under our hashgachah, Rav Yitzchok Chinn certified him.
    I knew Rav Chinn—rav of McKeesport, Pennsylvania—for many years. In fact, His son and family were my wife’s neighbors in
    Toronto, and, more, this son was my son’s mohel when we had a Shabbos bris in Buffalo!

    When we were first married and would spend Sukkos with my in-laws, Rav Shmuel Kamenetsky—who was staying with his Toronto-based son—would walk over to the Chinn’s sukkah to greet Rav Chinn. We would all sit in the sukkah and spend time
    with these greats.
    But the manager had more than just a passing connection. “I would even visit the rabbi in his home” he told me. “He would always have special passes for museums for me and my family. His wife would bake us cookies…”
    When Rav Chinn was getting on in his years, he would stop certifying this company, but this manager wanted to maintain a relationship with a rabbi.
    I sat there stunned. “I am no Rabbi Chinn, but I will try to have a relationship with you as well.”
    What a reminder of how a rav can have an effect on all people, and how one should never cease seeking to be a ribuy kiddush sheim shamayim in the world.

    More, it was a stark reminder that when a rabbi comes arrives for a kosher check, being fastidious in his duties is not a contradiction to also being mindful, kind, and endearing.


    V.

    The rest of the day has its own stories, but for space, let’s skip to minchahmaariv.

    Davening in Rabbi Goldstein’s shul in Columbus, Ohio, was a real treat, as their weekday beis haknesses is a one-of-a-kind beauty.

    After Maariv, I was off to the airport. I had the last flight out of Columbus. The first thing I noticed as I stood in line at American Airlines is that I made a huge error.
    I had parked my car at JFK, not realizing that I would be returning to LaGuardia. No big deal, I guess. I will take a cab to JFK
    when I land; what’s a little more traveling after the past 24 hours of state-hopping?!
    But then a greater blunder arose.

    Remember SkipLagged?

    My flight home to LaGuardia was supposed to be a stop-over for a morning flight to Montreal.

    When I arrived at the airport they asked to see my passport, as in their eyes I was a traverler preapred to head to that country.
    Lucily, I had my passport card (it is the size of a drivers license, andmay be used for travel from the US into Mexico, Canada, inter alia).

    I was quickly informed that such cards are only good for land travel, but not air travel.

    “Wecan’t let you on the plane!”
    Inside I was thinking that perhaps this was deserved for using such a site to book my ticket.

    I asked if they could just cancel the Montreal portion and write me up a new ticket for the New York portion. They were kind
    enough to do that for me…for a $400 charge!
    Since I had to get to this shivah house by shacharis, I had no choice but to repurchase the same ticket for $400 on top of the money spent on the original.
    I arrived safely in LaGuardia, and went straight to JFK parking. Relieved to be back and having this long 24-hour trip behind me, I opened my car and, as I got in, a gust of wind blew off my hat and yarmulke.

    I never recovered the yarmulke, and -as international travellers watched on with curiousuty -my yarmulka was swallowed by the wind whilst I ran for my hat like Wile E. Cayote, smashing my phone in the process of catching the hat midair.
    I finally arrived home at 11:30 p.m., starving, exhausted, pained at the missed levayah, with no yarmulke beneath my hat, a smashed phone, and a wallet $400 lighter.
    I lit the menorah. It was the fifth night, when for the first time the majority of the menorah is lit, and we are tasked with
    seeing the positive outweigh the negative (it is also the only night that will never fall on Shabbos, which is why some have the minhag to give money/gifts on this night).

    I thought of how Rav Chinn took a far-off company and made it into a kiddush Hashem; how, yes, when it rains it pours, but perhaps the positive within that rain should be our focus.
    After all, I made it home safely, learned a lesson about being more honest when purchasing tickets, will be able to go to the shivah in the morning, and a broken/cracked phone will likely be
    better for my time management in the long run.
    After lighting the menorah, I began to sing with my children. I fell asleep in the middle of the third stanza of Maoz Tzur…it had been a long 24 hours.

  • Lost Items & Segulos

     “Hakol B’Chezkas Sumin…”

    December, 2019

    “I have a question that has been bothering me for a long time” I once asked the president of my vaad, a renown doctor and medical school professor. “Every so often I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket, but when I reach for it I see that either no one had called, or, even worse, that I do not even have my phone on me! My question is not if I should be concerned, rather I am curios if before cell phones were common if there were lines around medical practices with concerned patients who had strange leg vibrations”

    I was only half kidding. However, his reply was serious as well as thought provoking. He explained that amputees, soldiers home from battle for instance, who, lo aleinu, lose an arm or a leg often report “phantom limbs”. Meaning they still have sensations mimicking the missing limb. One of the most important studies on this phenomenon reported the following rare yet extraordinary case:

    “I placed a coffee cup in front of John and asked him to grab it [with his phantom limb]. Just as he said he was reaching out, I yanked the cup away.
 ‘Ow!’ he yelled. ‘Don’t do that!’ ‘What’s the matter?’ ‘Don’t do that’, he repeated. ‘I had just got my fingers around the cup handle when you pulled it. That really hurts!’ Hold on a minute. I wrench a real cup from phantom fingers and the person yells, ouch! The fingers were illusory, but the pain was real – indeed, so intense that I dared not repeat the experiment.”

    Experiments done in order to discover the root cause of this strange yet observable phenomenon have led to more questions than answers. From Wikipedia:

    “Until recently, the dominant theory for causes of phantom limbs was irritation in the severed nerve endings (called “neuromas”). When a limb is amputated, many severed nerve endings are terminated at the residual limb. These nerve endings can become inflamed, and were thought to send anomalous signals to the brain. These signals, being functionally nonsense, were thought to be interpreted by the brain as pain.

    Treatments based on this theory were generally failures. In extreme cases, surgeons would perform a second amputation, shortening the stump, with the hope of removing the inflamed nerve endings and causing temporary relief from the phantom pain. But instead, the patients’ phantom pains increased, and many were left with the sensation of both the original phantom limb, as well as a new phantom stump, with a pain all its own (Ramachandran & Blakeslee 1998)”

    The doctor then explained that, whatever the root cause, it was clear that once the body has an appendage it is tricky for the brain to then, L’Pitom (suddenly) shut off all relevant circuitry, thus feelings of itchiness’, pain, or sensation in a removed limb can occur.

    “Our cell phones” he continued “have become so much a part of our lives, even in how we see who we are, that the brain has begun, in many people, to see it as an appendage of ourselves. What you and others suffer from when we mistakenly feel our phones is nothing but these same phantom limbs! So, no, before cell phones this question was never asked”!

    I do not know how seriously I took his words –spoken some six years ago. But last week I saw them come very true.

    Last Thursday was to be the first snow storm of the year in New York City – but this should not have been cause for much concern.

    There is something, however, about a fall storm.

    The leaves are still on many trees and snow is wet and heavy, a wicked brew that can cause branches to become weighed and to break.

    The snow came an hour before rush hour and everything that could have gone wrong did.

    My father in law left Manhattan’s AKO conference at 5 and got to his home in Monsey after 11pm.

    The roads were a nightmare.

    I took my van to pick up my daughters from high school. A ten-minute drive took me an hour. I ran in to the school to let them know I was there and by the time I returned to the car I was sopping wet and my shoes were filled with water and ice.

    Driving home took an equal amount of time. I started to panic that stores might be closed erev shabbos, so on the way I stopped at a local kosher bodega for some quick provisions.

    Walking in to the store one would think it was the eve of a world war, with people carrying water and canned foods to the register.

    I got what I thought we needed and ran back; splashing through the deep, wet snow, to the car.

    Finally at home, and safe, we all sat down to eat.

    I soon noticed that my cell phone had been uncharacteristically quiet. Checking my pockets and the counter to no avail, I asked one of my daughters if she wouldn’t mind running to the car to get my phone.

    She soon returned, full of snow, saying that it wasn’t there.

    “I must have left it in the store” I thought.

    I called the store, which explained that there was no phone left there.

    I now started to panic. My cell phone is half my job. That is my main office; it is on it that I respond to emails and many, many texts, pictures of hechsherim, door frame images for mezuzos, etc. There were shailos that needed answers and issues that needed resolution.

    I searched the car, under the car, around the house. 

    Nothing.

    I went back on the roads and returned to the store. It was really bad out now, and the store was empty. The manager looked at the security video and saw that I left with my phone.

    I went back home and signed in to my ‘Fine My Phone’ application on our home computer. This application will show you on a virtual map of the world where exactly one’s phone can be found.

    Having not used this service since I signed up for it years ago, I put in my email and clicked the ‘forgot my password’ option. I got this response, “We are dedicated to security, and we will therefore send you a new code to your cell phone we have on file”. But it is my cell phone that I am looking for!

    I had a restless night. 

    The next morning, I stood on my balcony and began walking down the stairs. I quoted the midrash (Bereishis Rabbah 53:14, relating to Hagar finding the well) “Amar Rav Binyamin, hakol b’chezkas sumin ad sh’Hakadosh Baruch Hu ma’ir es einayhem, min hachah: vayifkach elokim es eineha –Rav Binyamin taight that we are all considered blinded until Hashem open our eyes, as its says: And Hashem opened her eyes.

    This segulah to say this when is looking for a lost object, while not mentioned directly by this chazal, is brought in many sources (see  from the Chazon Ish in Maaseh Ish, vol. 2 p. 127, the Steipler in Orchos Rabbeinu vol 1 p. 289. See also sefer Hashavos Aveida p. 27 and Segulos Asher Bacharta [Yowza ed.] p. 1).

    In addition –and seemingly separate from this –is a Midrash Talpios (brought in the footnotes to Taamei Haminhagim p. 564) to give money for Rav Meir Baal Haness.

    As soon as a recited the midrash I immediately spotted my phone –in a black pool of water on the side of the road, which was under ice, which was under snow.

    The relief I felt when the phone actually turned on is hard to describe.

    And that is when I remembered the words of my vaad president, and a Beis Halevi to the above midrash.

    The Beis Halevi wonders why we are called ‘blind’ until Hashem opens our eyes. Can we not see anyway?!

    He explains that the word eved (slave) shares its root with avodah (hard work). An eved does not own anything of his own, and so too when we work and do our hishtadlus we should never feel that we own what we bring in. Rather, like Hagar, until we recognize Hashem’s hand in everything we have we may be blind to other opportunities that He places right in front of us.

    I always knew I was too attached to my phone, but now Hakadosh Baruch Hu opened my eyes to just how much attachment I really was, and how I need to change that.

    May Hashem open all of our eyes, bring us hatzlacha from where we are supposed to find it and help us see the danger when we don’t. 

  • How Should A Community Responds to a Distant Tragedy?

    “Rabbi, We Have To Do Something!”

    November, 2018

    Miquel de Cervantes Saavedra, the famed Spanish novelist and author of Don Quixote, lay on his deathbed surrounded by family and close admirers. No doubt they wondered what this man of words, this artist and playwright, would choose to say to conclude his remarkable life. In a state of sheer panic, his eyes darting wildly around the room, he is said to have remarked, “I cannot go into the night silently! Tell them I said something!”
    We all want to have just the right words, articulated succinctly, at the right moment.
    Silence, however, has become a forgotten art. Although we are all familiar with the statements of Chazal and works of mussar that speak at great length about the virtues of silence, we don’t seem to be very good at practicing it.
    Ever since the tragedy in Pittsburgh, the members of my shul have been reeling.
    Throughout Queens there have been meetings with rabbanim and lay leaders about security, and with politicians about planning for the future. This morning my assemblyman invited me to a meeting with officials from the Department of Homeland Security.
    Many of my congregants have a sense of urgency. “We have to do something!” they have been telling me. It’s an understandable reaction.
    My shul already has an armed security guard. His name is Joel, and he is a deeply religious man who views his duty to guard the synagogue as an honor more than a job.
    The other week when we made a kiddush for my mother’s yahrtzeit and, ybl”c, my daughter’s bas mitzvah, he even brought us a gift. Last year he came to shul on Purim and stood guard in a special costume he had created himself, figuring this would make his job easier when he asked people to take off their masks before entering the building.
    Well over six feet tall, he stands armed outside the shul, watching not only those who come in but the children who go out to play. We have been very lucky with our armed guard, to say the least.
    On the Shabbos morning of the shooting, Joel told me what had happened. Before we knew it, a member of the NYPD was stationed outside. Later, during Daf Yomi and the shiur before Minchah, when we do not typically have security, Joel came back, as did the NYPD officers.
    After Maariv on Motzaei Shabbos, I implored my shul members to thank Joel and the policemen for their help that day.
    The next morning, the president of the shul called me. “We have to do something!” he implored. “The shul must respond to this event.”
    So I composed an email.


    Dear Kehillah Kedoshah, 
    We all shocked, saddened, and shaken by the unspeakable events that took place this past Shabbos in Pittsburgh. It was, according to many, the largest massacre of Jews in the history of the United States. 
    Our response must go beyond concerns for additional security for our shul, although this is an important discussion to have; we must also have a spiritual reaction. 
    While we will have other opportunities to discuss this event, I urge everyone to come to shul this evening for Minchah-Maariv at 5:35. 
    In lieu of the dvar halachah in between the tefillos, we will offer Tehillim in memory of those who perished in this indescribable event, as well as plead to the Ribbono Shel Olam to protect us all.”


    Before the Tehillim I explained that we would not allow this tragedy to take away our dvar halachah, so we would do both.
    I also shared with them an idea that my wife had suggested. Once in Buffalo, there was a tragedy that struck Jews of all backgrounds (a story for another time). We made a night of Tehillim in our shul and invited Jews of other denominations to join us. My wife suggested that I say the following:
    Why is it that Jews always turn to Tehillim? Certainly our siddurim of full of other wonderful compositions and tefillos. Perhaps this is because Tehillim is the one entity for which we all have the same nusach. Unlike siddurim, everyone’s sefer Tehillim is the same. The Tehillim recited in the Warsaw Ghetto were the same ones said in Morocco, during the Crusades, and during the Inquisition.

    I also felt that it was important to mention an issue that was on many people’s minds—the fact that the tragedy occurred in a congregation with whose halachic and hashkafic standards we differ greatly. But I emphasized that there is no disagreement about the pain of spilled Jewish blood.
    I also planned to reiterate the point I had made in the email, that it would be a tragedy if our only response to this event were to increase security. We all needed to grow from this terrible event.
    Our recital of Tehillim was beautiful, but the next day I received a call from the shul chairman. “We have to do something!”
    “What do you have in mind?” I asked.
    He suggested that we dedicate two of my shiurim during the week to those who had suffered from the massacre, and that the topic should be how to respond to such an event.
    I followed his advice, suggesting in my talks, among other things, that we strengthen our tefillos, kavanah and kavod while in shul.
    I thought the shiurim went well, but later that week I received a phone call from the head of the chesed committee. “We have to do something!” she said. “Perhaps we can help the community of Pittsburgh in some way.”
    Suddenly I had a memory of Squirrel Hill in Pittsburgh…Nutti Rosenblum.
    Nutti’s name was mentioned often in my home when I was growing up. He was my eldest brother’s roommate in Ner Yisrael Toronto.
    Nutti got married and had a baby daughter. In 1986, when she was a month old, he was visiting his in-laws in Pittsburgh for Pesach, and just seven hours after he arrived with his family, he was shot five times. This happened at about 9:15 p.m. on April 17. He was shot
    in the abdomen, chest, arms and leg as he walked alone back to his in-laws’ home on Shady Avenue, following davening at Kollel Bais Yitzchok. He was killed because he was Jewish.
    I was in elementary school when this happened. I remember that after I heard about it, I ran into my room and shut the door.
    My mother, a”h, knocked and came in. She said, “Sometimes we get angry when there is nothing we can do. Sometimes Hashem does things that we do not have the ability to understand. But there is something you can do, Moshe—you can do more mitzvos.”
    I repeated this to the head of the chesed committee, telling her that while I didn’t know if Pittsburgh needed us for anything, we needed us for everything. The ultimate chesed we can do for kedoshim who are killed because they are Jewish is to grow in our Yiddishkeit, making sure their deaths are not in vain and that their aliyah is ceaseless. Their death will not be in vain and that their aliyah is ceaseless.

  • Clergy Vs Rabbi

    Clergy Vs Rabbi

    How The State Made Me A ‘Real’ Rabbi

    September 2018

    have never been fond of the term “clergy” for myself or other rabbanim. It is derived from
    Greek (meaning “inheritance”), and then French (meaning “scholarship,” as historically it
    was often only the priests who were taught how to read and write), it seems to have a
    distinctly non-Jewish connotation.
    In fact, many dictionaries define this term as either “the body of all people ordained for
    religious duties, especially in the Christian Church” or “a priest or religious leader,
    especially a Christian or Muslim one.”
    Although the word “clergy” gave rise to such innocuous terms as “clerk,” there is
    something about this word—when applied to me—that gives me the willies. Not to mention
    that it lumps us into a group with whom we have little in common.
    Nevertheless, there is no way of escaping it. In front of my car I have an official
    laminated card from the New York City Department of Transportation allowing me to park
    in certain no-parking zones in the city. The card says: “CLERGY, Rabbi Moshe Taub.”
    (No, the reader may not borrow it!)
    When I visit people in the hospital, I get validated for parking quite often, but before they
    stamp my parking ticket they always demand to see my clergy ID.
    But the strongest embracing of this term occurs when one seeks the right to officiate at a
    marriage in New York State. As the reader is likely aware, in order for the state to
    recognize a couple as married (which has broad implications, including their tax status),
    they must have an official state marriage license.
    Who is granted the right to marry a couple? Section 11 of the Domestic Relations Law of
    the State of New York gives a list of people who are eligible to perform marriage
    ceremonies in New York State. Among them are leaders of the Society of Ethical Culture;
    the mayor or former mayor of the City of New York; federal, state, or local judges or
    justices; and of course, clergy members or ministers of any religion.
    After I moved to New York City, it came to my attention that my registration was no
    longer in the system. Perhaps because of my new address or job, I was no longer
    recognized as clergy.
    So one free morning, I headed down to the City Clerk’s office on Worth Street on the
    Lower East Side, where one must go to register. I had a wedding coming up, and I did not
    wish to have to explain to this family that I was not recognized as a rabbi by the State of
    New York.
    It was an odd room. Most of the people there were couples who were getting married on
    the spot. There was even a group of entrepreneurial people outside selling everything
    from flowers to veils. I saw two groups of photographers inside offering their services to
    the happy couples when their papers were signed. I guess this is one idea for how to save
    money on making a chasunah!
    I confidently approached the desk when my number was called and presented a letter
    from my shul indicating that I was the rabbi there.
    The man looked at me incredulously. “What is this?” he asked.
    “Well, it’s proof that I serve as a rabbi,” I replied innocently. My heart sank as I realized
    that this was like the DMV for rabbanim, and no matter what documentation you bring, you
    will always be missing that one document that you need.
    He explained that I needed a certificate of ordination or proof that I was listed in an
    official registry of clergy members in my denomination.
    A morning wasted, I dejectedly returned home. The next week I cleared my schedule
    again and returned with my semichah in hand.
    “What is this now?” the man asked.

    Semichah from Lakewood is handwritten and signed by the four roshei yeshivah. I had
    anticipated that it would look like chicken scratching to him, so I had taken the liberty of
    translating it.
    He did not seem all that impressed. He looked at the document as though it had been
    found along with the Dead Sea Scrolls.
    “Please wait here while I go get my supervisor.” Ten minutes later he shuffled back with
    an older gentleman from some secret back office.
    I imagined that this older supervisor had been sitting in that back room for decades and
    was called upon once every 25 years or so. In this Byzantine environment, where time
    was lethargic, it may have been the first time in years he had seen the light of day.
    He looked impatiently at the document and then looked up at me and said, “I am sorry,
    but we just can’t accept this.”
    I was getting frustrated. “You mean to tell me that if I go online and click on one of the
    million websites that advertise ‘Become a clergy member in minutes’—that you will accept,
    but an ordination from the largest yeshivah in the country, and a real congregation to boot,
    is not enough?”
    He looked me straight in the eye and said, “You are coming to me with logic, but this is
    government!”
    After a moment he said, “Look, if you can find someone other than yourself to translate
    your ordination, we can accept it.” Before I could digest this reasonable request, he
    continued, “But you have to find an official state translator of this language.”
    Rabbinic Lashon Kodesh—with its mix of Hebrew and Aramaic—has no state translator;
    of this I was sure. In truth, I should have just called Lakewood and asked them for an
    English-language ordination document.
    It took me months to get my approval from the state. By that time I had already served as a mesader kiddushin.
    Not sure when the marriage certificate I had signed expired, I made my third, and final,
    in-person visit to Worth Street.
    My turn arrived, and I explained the entire story to the (new) man. He told me that there
    was no issue and that he could accept my marriage license since I was now approved. He
    also said that it was a good thing I had come down because after a certain amount of time,
    the couple would have to apply for a new license.
    Of course, it couldn’t be that simple. He took a look at it and said, “Ooh, there is no date
    on this certificate.”
    I started to panic, trying to recall the date of the wedding; I didn’t want to call the chasan
    unless I had to. But then this young African American man shocked me. “Don’t work so
    hard to remember the date. You are a rabbi—you can simply look at the kesubah and
    figure out the secular date!”
    Indeed, I keep a copy of every kesubah after each wedding, in the same marriage folder
    I had with me that day.
    At least he understood that rabbis are not simply clergy.