שבת טעם החיים בהעלתך תש"ע
Shabbos: Ta’am HaChaim Behaaloscha 5770
Our enemies should be “removed”
Introduction
איש על דגלו באתת לבית אבתם יחנו דבר אל בני ישראל ואמרת אלהם איש או אשה כי יפלא לנדר נדר נזיר להזיר לה', speak to the Children of Israel and say to them: A man or woman who shall dissociate himself by taking a Nazarite vow of abstinence. (Bamidbar 6:2)
In this week’s parshaha we read the words that we recite every time we take out the Torah from the Ark to read in public. It is said (Bamidbar) vayehi binsoa haaron vayomer Moshe kumah hashem viyafutzu oyvecho viyanusu misanecha mipanecha, when the Ark would journey, Moshe said, “ Arise, HaShem, and let your foes be scattered, let those who hate You flee from before You.” The word kumah is normally translated as arise, but here Rashi offers a novel explanation. Rashi writes that Moshe was instructing HaShem, so to speak, to stop, as the Ark, reflecting the Divine Presence, had travelled three days ahead of the Jewish People. Thus, Moshe was requesting from HaShem that the Ark stop and wait for the camp to catch up. How does this idea connect with Moshe’s request that HaShem disperse the Jewish People’s enemies? Furthermore, the Medrash states that the Ark would level mountains to make the Jews’ travels easier. What enemies was Moshe cornered about in the Wilderness that He felt it necessary to offer a special request that the Ark cause their enemies to disperse?
A story of a miraculous “curse”
The story is said of a family in Israel where the mother, Mrs. Fixler, would prepare the most delicious simanim, symbolic foods, every year in honor of Rosh Hashanah. One year their two oldest children, Yaakov Dan and Chavah Miriam, a twin boy and girl, travelled to the Ukraine. The girl was involved in Jewish outreach. She had her mother pack one hundred portions of her mouth weathering simanim so she could treat her protégés to an unforgettable culinary experience. Yaakov Dan was travelling to Uman, where thousands of Jews would gather together to pray at the gravesite of Rabbi Nachman from Breslov. Yaakov Dan and Chavah Miriam were already 32 years old and they were still not married. Following them were six other children, who ranged in ages from 30 down to 18, and they were all ready for marriage. Up to this point, however, none of them children had managed to find their bashert, their pre-destined match.
That year, Mrs. Fixler sprained her ankle right before Rosh Hashanah, and her twin daughters took over her role of distributing here delectable simanim to relatives from near and far. The first night of Rosh Hashanah, the elderly grandfather, Reb Chaim Fixler ate with the family. Reb Chaim had become somewhat senile after the passing of his wife, and often he was not even capable of remembering who his family members were. The family began to partake of these special simanim that Mrs. Fixler had prepared, and they would recite the traditional yehi Ratzon sheyistalku soneinu, may it be Your will that our enemies be removed. To everyone’s shock, the old man recited fervent the words yehi Ratzon sheyistalku yeladeinu¸ that our children be removed. Everyone began shouting at him, “Saba, don’t say that you are cursing your own grandchildren.” Mrs. Fixler was particularly distraught, as she had lost her mother at a young age, and she was still sensitive. She burst into tears and her husband had difficulty calming her down. Immediately following Rosh HaShanah, Reb Sholom took his father back to the old-age home. He and his wife then called Chavah Miriam to find out how she had fared in the Ukraine. They were shocked to learn that the simanim that Mrs. Fixler had sent her daughter never arrived. Shortly afterwards Yaakov Dan called in hysterics. “I am calling from the Kiev police station,” he announced. It turned out that he and his friends had thought that they could fly to Germany and from there to Kiev, and then they would be able to obtain visas in Kiev. Instead, they were refused entry to Kiev and the authorities asked them to fly back to Germany. When the men realized that they would not be able to make it to Germany before Yom Tov, they refused to board the plane and they were arrested. The men spent the entire Rosh HaShanah in prison with no Shofar and no minyan, and they subsisted on the candy and snack food that the two children with them had brought on the trip. To their good fortune, a community activist was able to obtain their release after Yom Tov and they continued on to Uman to pray by the gravesite of Reb Nachman from Breslov.
Following all these disturbing incidents, the Fixler family was sure that they were in for a troublesome year ahead. Heaven, however, decreed otherwise. Later in the year both Yaakov Dan and Chavah Miriam found their partners in life and went on to establish fine homes. Their grandfather’s supposed “curse” of asking Hashem to “remove our children” was actually transformed into a blessing, as the children were indeed “removed” from their homes and they settled into their own homes, happily married.
Moshe prays for “hidden” miracles
In a similar vein, we are all familiar with the outright miracles that HaShem performs for His beloved nation, vanquishing our enemies in battle. Moshe, however, prayed to HaShem to stop and “let your foes be scattered, let those who hate You flee from before You.” Moshe was asking HaShem that the Divine Presence should allow that even those enemies who were plotting against the Jewish People, like Balak and Balaam, should not be allowed to bring their diabolical schemes to fruition.
The Shabbos connection
Throughout the week we are forced to confront the forces of evil that threaten us from without and from within. The Evil Inclination and the enemies of the Jews are constantly scheming to bring about our downfall. We pray to HaShem to assist us in our efforts of resisting our foes and we hope that our prayers will be answered. On Shabbos, however, the Zohar teaches us that kol dinin misabrin minah, all harsh judgments are removed from Her, as the luminous light of Shabbos banishes all of our enemies and allows us to bask in the glory of HaShem’s light.
Shabbos Stories
Healing through a ruse
The young man didn't know what else to do. He was suffering from a degenerative disease that grew worse with each passing week, and not a single one of the doctors he had gone to could successfully diagnose his illness - let alone find a cure. All was not entirely hopeless, however. In happier and healthier days he had been a talmid (student) of the holy Chafetz Chaim, Rabbi Yisrael Meir Kagan of Radin zt"l. As a last resort, he decided he would make the trip to Radin and ask his Rebbe for a blessing.
The young man arrived in Radin totally exhausted from his journey, but his longing to once again gaze upon the holy face of the Chafetz Chaim was stronger than his tiredness. So, as soon as he got off the train, he made his way to his Rebbi's home.
The Chafetz Chaim remembered the talmid well. His heart ached to see him in such a state, and he wholeheartedly agreed to help - but on one condition. "You must never divulge to anyone," said the Chafetz Chaim, "what is about to happen."
The young man, of course, agreed to the terms. The Chafetz Chaim instructed the talmid to travel to the town of a certain little-known rabbi. "Tell him exactly what you told me," said the Chafetz Chaim. "Ask him for a beracha, which he will surely give you, and with HaShem’s help you will be healed."
The young man did not have to be told twice. He found lodgings in Radin for the night, and the next morning he rose early and boarded the first train to the town of the mysterious rabbi. By the afternoon, he sat with this rabbi, who listened with great sympathy to his plight. He gave him a heartfelt beracha for a refuah shleima (full recovery), just as the Chafetz Chaim had predicted.
After so much travel, the man needed a good rest. He found simple lodgings in town and slept well that night, but the next morning he found it difficult to get up. He therefore remained at the small inn for another day, and another. The rest began to have a positive effect on him, and after a week he began to feel a little stronger. Slowly, day by day, he could feel his previous strength coming back. After thirty days had passed, his illness had almost completely disappeared. Ten days later, he was in such good health and spirits that it was almost impossible to believe that less than two months before he had been knocking on death's door.
Years passed; he bore a family of his own. Yet despite the colds and flues that came up, he never once said a word about his miraculous recovery.
Twenty years after his illness, his sister-in-law became ill with a strange disease that baffled the doctors. After hearing the details of her symptoms, he realized she was suffering from the exact same illness that had afflicted him so many years ago. But what could he do? He remembered the instructions of the Chafetz Chaim, and he kept silent.
His sister-in-law grew steadily weaker. The man's wife became distraught. In the back of her mind, she remembered that her husband had once mentioned a miraculous recovery that he had experienced for an illness in his youth. She begged her husband to tell her more - perhaps what had helped him might also cure her sister. But he refused to say a word. His wife, however, continued to plead with him, and in time his defenses crumbled.
After careful consideration, he came to the conclusion that he would tell all. After all, with his sister-in-law hovering between life and death, it was within his rights to reveal the secret. He sat his wife down and told her about the trip he had made so many years ago to the home of the Chafetz Chaim, and subsequently to the city of the mysterious rabbi. He described to her how he began to recuperate from his illness almost immediately after receiving this rabbi's bracha. His wife found hope in his story; she begged her husband to once again make the journey to the same rabbi.
As they spoke, however, he felt the beginnings of a headache. As the night wore on, the pain intensified. By the end of the week, he
realized he was once again in the grips of the same illness that had plagued him twenty years ago. "I must go to Radin while I am still able to travel," he told his wife, "and seek out the advice of the Chafetz Chaim. He will tell me what to do for myself, as well as for your sister."
The Chafetz Chaim was already elderly and frail, but he recognized his talmid instantly. His initial pleasure at seeing his former student quickly vanished, though, as he realized what had happened.
"I'm sorry but I can't help you this time," the Chafetz Chaim told him. "You see - back then I was still young and strong, and I was able to fast for 40 days on your behalf. But now I'm too frail and old to take that kind of fasting upon myself." It had all been a ruse - to hide the true source of the man's salvation. (www.Torah.org)
The Sefer Binei Yissachar
Rabbi Tzvi Elimelech of Dinov was on his way to visit his Rebbe, the Chozeh (Seer) of Lublin. During the journey he began to wonder from which of the Twelve Tribes he descended.
"Why is it," he thought to himself, "that as soon as Chanukah nears, I always experience a special spiritual delight? I cannot be descended from the Chashmonaim, for I am not of the priestly family. So where does this special feeling come from?"
Rabbi Tzvi Elimelech decided that when he was in Lublin, he would ask his Rebbe. Upon arriving at the Chozeh's court, before he even managed to say a word, the Chozeh said: "You are descended from the Tribe of
Yissachar. As to why you experience what you do on Chanukah, it is because in the time of the Holy Temple you were a member of the Rabbinical Court of the Chashmonaim" for the Tribe of Yissachar traditionally supplied the scholars who manned the Rabbinical Court in Temple times.
That is why Reb Tzvi Elimelech entitled his learned book on the festivals, Binei Yissachar - the Sons of Yissachar. (http://www.weeklylchaim.com/lchaim/5763/747)
Rav Chaim Volozhin - Shas Is Shas
In the time of Rav Chaim of Volozhin, there was a baal habayis who had completed the entire Shas. Rav Chaim would stand up for him when he would enter the room. The talmidim of R' Chaim felt that it was an affront to his kavod to stand up for a baal habayis. They protested to R' Chaim, saying that although the baal habayis did learn Shas and spent a lot of time learning, he didn't know the Shas in depth, so it was not respectful for a great Gaon like himself to stand up for him.
R' Chaim answered that there are two types of Shas - the Vilna Shas which was a beautiful Shas with a quality print, and another Shas printed in Poland which was of lesser quality with inferior print. Rav Chaim explained that if one had these two Shasim, he wouldn't say the inferior Shas is not a Shas -he would merely say it was not as beautiful. Similarly, someone who knows Shas is someone who knows Shas, and therefore it's appropriate to treat him with the proper kavod.
A Photo Shoot With Rav Shmuel Auerbach
My son was turning three years old and it was time for his upsherin. Since I learned occasionally in the Bais Medrash of Rav Shmuel Auerbach's Yeshiva and saw him once a week, with some nudging from wife I garnered the courage to ask him to do the honors and cut the first snips. When I managed to ask him, he told me that he is not the best barber but if I want I could come to him after Shacharis.
So we got all ready for the big event. We made sure to bring everything we needed for the occasion; scissors, candies, and a camera. When we arrived, Rav Shmuel was learning Chumash with a few talmidim huddled around his shtender. Wrapped in Tallis and Tefillin with his face shining, it looked like a scene from the past. Finally the group dispersed and one of the talmidim came to tell us that Rav Shmuel was ready for us.
Nervously we approached. I think my boys were more terrified then I was. He wished us Sholom Aleichem and asked my son his name. As I started fumbling with the scissors he asked, "where is the camera". Of course, the camera! I took it out and he called one of his talmidim to take a picture.
He held up the scissors and took a snip. He then turned to his talmid and asked if the flash went off. His talmid said yes. Rav Shmuel said he didn't see it and he should take another picture. He then held up the piece of hair that he had snipped off, together with the scissors, as if he was cutting it for the first time, and posed for the camera. I couldn't believe my eyes.
It may be a fake pose, but it was one of the most genuine and thoughtful displays of kindness that we are fortunate to have hanging on the wall of our home. Our gedolim don't waste their time with fulfilling mundane requests. They go from the epitome of the world with their torah and Tefillah to the height of chesed with their incredible care for every simple Jewish adult and child alike.
The Divrei Chaim Is Happy Being a "Hedyot" And The Brisker Rav A "Boor"
The Brisker Rav was once in Krenitz and stayed in the home of one of the Talmidei Chachomim of the city. When putting on his Tefillin the Brisker Rav looked in the mirror to make sure his Tefillin were straight. His host became very mad since the great Divrei Chaim was vehemently against people looking in the mirror to check their Tefillin.
Not having the nerve to confront the Brisker directly, his host left the Sefer Divrei Chaim with a bookmark on the relevant teshuvah on the breakfast table, to send the Brisker Rav a not so subtle message.
Upon arriving to breakfast and seeing the Sefer, the Brisker Rav realized the problem and called over his host. He said to him, I see you are a Chosid so I will explain this to you in terms you will understand. One time when it rained on Sukkos everyone left the Sukkah except the Divrei Chaim. They asked him why he won't leave since the Gemara says that whoever remains in the Sukkah in the rain is a "Hedyot" and is making a mistake. The Divrei Chaim answered, you can call me a Hedyot but I cannot leave my beloved Sukkah.
Similarly explained the Brisker Rav, you can call me a "Boor" (a big Am Haaretz), as the Divrei Chaim calls someone who looks in the mirror to put on Tefillin. However I will still look in the mirror because all I care about is that I wear my Tefillin in accordance with Halacha. (Peninim U'Parparos Al HaTorah)
Rabbi Akiva Eiger Vies To Be The Caretaker Of The Mikva
Rabbi Akiva Eiger the gaon and glory of Klal Yisroel, was Rav for 48 years of his life... and he considered every second of it pure torture. He constantly thought of ways to exit the Rabbinate. When he was already in his advanced years and he was the Rav of Posen and considered the Rav of all of Klal Yisroel, he wrote a letter to his friend in a neighboring town where the caretaker of the Mikva had died.
"In my old age I want to support myself in a permissible manner and not through issur, from my own handiwork and not from taking advantage of the crown of Torah. Therefore I beg you to persuade the leaders of your Kehilla, on my behalf, to rent to me the town Mikva. I am prepared to leave my Rabbinical post and become the Mikva caretaker in you city... (Sarei HaMei'a 1:261) (www.Revach.net)
Shabbos: Ta’am HaChaim Behaaloscha 5770
Is sponsored in honor of the engagement of Shua Krupenia of Lakewood to Esther Miriam Adler of Cleveland. They should be zoche to build together a Bayis Neeman BiYisroel and be a source of nachas to their parents
Have a wonderful and delightful Shabbos
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Thursday, May 27, 2010
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Shabbos: Ta’am HaChaim Naso 5770
שבת טעם החיים נשא תש"ע
Shabbos: Ta’am HaChaim Naso 5770
Restrain for yourself but give to others
Introduction
איש על דגלו באתת לבית אבתם יחנו דבר אל בני ישראל ואמרת אלהם איש או אשה כי יפלא לנדר נדר נזיר להזיר לה', speak to the Children of Israel and say to them: A man or woman who shall dissociate himself by taking a Nazarite vow of abstinence. (Bamidbar 6:2)
In this week’s Parasha the Torah instructs us regarding the phenomena of a Nazir, one who takes a vow to abstain from wine. While the rules regarding what a Nazir can or cannot do are straightforward, the Talmud’s perspective of the virtue of a Nazir is not so clear. One opinion in the Gemara (Taanis 11a) maintains that a Nazir is deemed to be a sinner, whereas a dissenting opinion posits that the Nazir is referred to as a Kadosh, a holy person. Which opinion is correct?
The Belzer Rebbe asks for cake and coffee
Rabbi Aharon from Belz (1880-1957) led an ascetic life, subsisting on the bare minimum of food and drink and preoccupying himself with Torah study and intense prayer. As a child, the Rebbe of Belz was attended to a by a man who pleaded and cajoled with the future Rebbe to partake in some form of nourishment. Much to the attendant’s dismay, however, Aharon refused his overtures. One day, however, little Aharon summoned the attendant and requested a large piece of cake and a hot cup of coffee. “Remember,” Aharon exhorted the attendant, “the coffee must be steaming hot.” The attendant was overjoyed, and he hastened to perform the bidding of the future Rebbe. When Aharon received the cake and hot coffee, he promptly turned to a man in the synagogue and proffered upon him the delicacies. The attendant expressed his surprise, and Aharon responded accordingly. “This morning, upon exiting the ritual bath, I overheard this man sighing, ‘if only right now I could have a delicious piece of cake and a hot steaming cup of coffee.’ How can one hear the entreaty of a Jew and ignore it? I immediately decided that this Jew should experience a happy moment in life, and for that reason I requested that you prepare for him the cake and hot coffee.”
The Nazir is deemed to be a sinner and a holy person
A Nazir is a person who felt it necessary to abstain from the pleasures of this world, and he therefore makes a vow that he will not partake in the drinking of wine. The Hebrew word for a sinner is chotei, which means a lack. While the Nazir himself may force himself to be lacking in physical indulgences, there is no reason for him to abstain from helping others feel better about themselves. Thus, a Nazir is simultaneously referred to as a Kadosh, a holy person, because holiness is more than abstaining from materialism and leading an ascetic life. Indeed, Rashi writes that that the portion in the Torah referred to as Kedoshim, the command to be holy, was said by Moshe when all of the Jewish People were gathered together. One can only achieve true holiness when he is cognizant of another person’s needs.
We have just celebrated the festival of Shavuos when we commemorated the receiving of the Torah. Rabbi Yechiel Michel Epstein, author of the classic Halachic work Aruch Hashulchan (1829-1908) writes that the festival of Shavuos is referred to in the Torah as Atzeres, restraint, because the Jewish People were instructed to abstain from physical indulgence prior to receiving the Torah. Nonetheless, the Gemara (Pesachim 68b) states explicitly that all authorities agree that on Shavuos we are required to partake in the consumption of food delicacies, as this was the day when we received the Torah. The Jewish People stood at Sinai, united in their acceptance of HaShem’s kingship and the receiving of the Torah. It is fitting that while abstaining from physical indulgences they were simultaneously united with their fellow Jews. The lesson of the Nazir and of receiving the Torah is to strive for a higher spiritual life but to always remember our fellow Jews who are wishing for that piece of cake and very hot cup of coffee.
The Shabbos connection
Shabbos is a time when we are required to channel our desires and our will to the service of HaShem. Nonetheless, Shabbos is also an opportunity for us to allow others partake in the physical delights of food and drink and family time that can all be channeled to the service of HaShem. While it is important for an individual to restrain himself from overindulging in materialism, one should always be on the lookout to help others meet their physical needs.
Shabbos Stories
Zaidy
"I really don't want to cause you any hardship, Mr. G. I like you very much. But my daughter is getting married soon, and I need the apartment for her," my landlord announced one day.
"Oy vey," I sighed. "We're going to have to move again." This was the fourth time in ten years that we had received news like this. Those of you who own your homes probably don't remember how much moving is such an awful pain in the neck. Packing and unpacking are only minor parts of the difficulty. The hardest part is finding new schools for the kids, and helping them adjust to their new surroundings every time.
This time, we decided that we would try to find an apartment in the same neighborhood in which we had been living for the past three years. That would at least resolve the adjustment problems.
But to do that, we had to compromise on our standards, because the only apartment available in the area was a tiny one on the top floor of an old walk-up building. But what won't parents do for their kids?
And so, we packed our belongings and moved. This time, we were offered a five-year lease, with the possibility of an extension. Wow! Five years without having to worry about moving again!
After unpacking, we acquainted ourselves with the neighbors, with the building's maintenance committee, and then with "the old man." During the first few weeks after our move, we didn't know that he existed. His door was always closed, and no one seemed to enter or leave his apartment. In the beginning, we thought that no one lived there. But one day, Mr. Simon, the head of the building's maintenance committee, asked if I could do him a favor and collect the dues from the old man who lived opposite us.
I was startled. "Do you mean that I've been living here for three weeks without knowing that I have a next-door neighbor?" I asked.
"He's an old man who lives alone," Mr. Simon said. "He doesn't mingle with the neighbors."
That evening, I knocked on the old man's door. When he opened it, a horrible stench assailed me.
"Shalom," I politely said. "I live across the hall."
"Shalom," he replied feebly. "What do you want?"
"The maintenance committee asked me to collect your dues. I was told that you owe them money for four months."
"Just a moment," he replied. Then he trudged inside in order to search for the money. While I was waiting, I peeked into the apartment. The floor was filthy and the house was dark and stuffy. The old man returned to the door and apologized: "I haven't been to the bank for a long time and have only part of the sum I owe. I'll bring you the rest in a few days. Good night."
That week, I didn't see anyone opening his door nor did I see anyone on the staircase, except for members of my own family. I also didn't hear a peep from the old man's house. "I guess he goes out in the morning when we're not home," my wife ventured. Then she asked, "How does he lug his groceries and vegetables up those stairs? You told me that he can barely walk."
"Who says that he's alive? Has anyone seen him recently? Mr. Simon said that the man has no relatives," I grimly replied.
"Perhaps he's sick and needs help," my wife stammered.
Everything that occurred from then on should be credited to my wife. She insisted that I knock on the old man's door that very moment and ask how he felt. Then she put a plate of freshly baked cookies in my hand and sent me on my way. I knocked on his door and heard him shuffling about. The same old man answered, but this time he looked even more ragged. I apologized for disturbing him and offered him the cookies. At first he hesitated to take the plate and said that he still had no money, but would try and pay the following week.
When I returned to my apartment, my wife said: "The fact that he has no money for the maintenance committee can mean one of two things: either he really has no money, or he can't go down to the bank to withdraw it. If he has no money, then he probably has nothing to eat. If he can't go down to the bank, that means that it's hard for him to walk. But if he can't go downstairs, who brings him his groceries? How does he live?"
I understood her point. She was hinting that our neighbor needed help.
That evening, I knocked on his door again, another plate of cookies in my hand. "Can I come in?" I asked.
"If you wish," he stammered.
What can I say? I had never seen such a mess in my life. Everything was old, dirty, and run-down. He showed me into his living room and apologized that he couldn't offer me a cup of coffee, because he had no milk. "That's okay," I said. "We have extra milk. How do you like your coffee?"
"Warm," he blandly replied.
"I'll be back in a jiffy," I said, and I returned home to my apartment. I told my wife that she was right, and that he had no milk, and probably nothing else either. She prepared a thermos of hot coffee and gave me a few disposable cups.
I went back to his apartment and, pouring him a steaming cup of coffee, said, "My wife hopes this will do until the morning."
His eyes lit up. "Thank you. I'll buy some milk tomorrow."
"I go to the store every day," I said. "It's not hard for me to bring a few more items upstairs. Can I buy something for you?
"If it's not hard for you," he said, "please bring me a container of milk and two rolls."
"That's all?" I asked in surprise. "I can bring you more."
"Okay," he replied. "Then bring me a container of yogurt too, and charge it to me."
We chatted a bit, and he told me that he had once lived in Tel Aviv, before moving to our neighborhood. "At that time, the third floor didn't bother me," he said. Then, with a bitter smile, he added, "I didn't think that I would ever grow old and that three flights would one day be hard for me to climb."
We spoke for a few more minutes and I said that we were renting our apartment and were happy that he was our neighbor. "My wife is an orphan and my parents live in France. I hope you'll be a surrogate grandfather (Zaidy) for my kids," I said, promising to bring the children for a visit.
The next morning, I went to the grocery store and took rolls, milk, and yogurt for the old man. When I asked the grocer to charge the items to the old man's account, he said: "He hasn't paid his bill for a long time, and I can't give him any more credit."
"No problem," I said. "Charge it to me." I paid for the old man's groceries for a long time, while he was certain that the grocer was charging him...
From the day I bought those first items for him at the grocery, I made it a habit to visit him. In the afternoons, I would bring him light lunches. At first he was embarrassed, but I told him that my wife loved to cook. Every evening, I came just for a chat, bringing coffee and cookies with me.
A month later, he asked me to withdraw his recent pension payments from the bank, since he hadn't left his house for a number of months. Actually, he had very little money in his account, because his charges for utilities had been deducted directly from his pension income, which wasn't very large. When I brought him the money, he told me to pay his grocery bill, not knowing that I had been doing that all along. Believing that he had paid his debts, he was so pleased that he sent me down to buy a chocolate bar for the kids.
Every Friday afternoon my wife would tidy up his house. When he protested, she said, "You're our Zaidy, and we love you." When she saw his bed, she was shocked. Without much ado, she lugged in the brand-new bed we had bought for our children, and told him that we had no room for it.
The old man was happy with the bed, and we bought the kids a cheaper one.
Within a few months, I knew all about him. He was a childless Holocaust survivor who had refused to accept indemnities from the Germans and had earned his living by working at odd jobs. His wife had died many years earlier, and he had lived alone since then. Of course, he was too feeble to clean his apartment, and that was why it was in such a state.
Five years passed, and we signed another five-year lease. Actually, before the first lease was up, my wife and I considered moving to a larger apartment and taking the old man with us. But in the end we rejected that idea, since elderly people don't like changes.
The kids had begun to call him Zaidy, and he really was like a grandfather to them. He would test them in their school work and also liked to tell them stories.
One morning, he didn't wake up. He hadn't suffered from any particular illness and died without pain. We all wept at his small funeral and were sincerely bereaved.
We locked his apartment and had no idea what would happen to it. At the end of the shivah week, we visited his grave. A few weeks later, we erected a tombstone over it, promising that we would name either a child or a grandchild after him.
The next day, someone called us and asked if he could meet with me privately. He arrived at our house that evening and introduced himself as our late neighbor's lawyer.
"Fifteen years ago," the lawyer explained, "he asked me to help him prepare a will. He said that he had no relatives and wanted to bequeath his apartment, the only asset he owned, to an institution. I prepared a will. Before leaving he said: 'No one knows what tomorrow will bring. How will you know if I am still alive?'"
"I said that I would call him once a week, and that if there was no answer I would check the apartment to see what had happened.
"For many years, I called him every Sunday. Two years ago, he called me and asked me to come over with two witnesses. I arrived at his apartment with two of my clerks and he changed his will. When I called him last Sunday, there was no answer, and so I came by to pay him a visit. The grocer told me that he had passed away, and I knew that I had to read the will in your presence."
I didn't understand why he had to read it in our presence, but after the reading of the will everything became clear. Our elderly neighbor ― our Zaidy ― had bequeathed his only asset, his apartment, to us.
We sold the old man's apartment, took a mortgage, and bought a larger apartment in the very same neighborhood.
We never expected any reward for the simple kindness we did. However, the Master Accountant sees, records, and reckons. (www.innernet.org.il)
Shabbos: Ta’am HaChaim Naso 5770
Have a wonderful and delightful Shabbos
Prepared by Rabbi Binyomin Adler
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View Shabbos: Ta’am HaChaim
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Shabbos: Ta’am HaChaim Naso 5770
Restrain for yourself but give to others
Introduction
איש על דגלו באתת לבית אבתם יחנו דבר אל בני ישראל ואמרת אלהם איש או אשה כי יפלא לנדר נדר נזיר להזיר לה', speak to the Children of Israel and say to them: A man or woman who shall dissociate himself by taking a Nazarite vow of abstinence. (Bamidbar 6:2)
In this week’s Parasha the Torah instructs us regarding the phenomena of a Nazir, one who takes a vow to abstain from wine. While the rules regarding what a Nazir can or cannot do are straightforward, the Talmud’s perspective of the virtue of a Nazir is not so clear. One opinion in the Gemara (Taanis 11a) maintains that a Nazir is deemed to be a sinner, whereas a dissenting opinion posits that the Nazir is referred to as a Kadosh, a holy person. Which opinion is correct?
The Belzer Rebbe asks for cake and coffee
Rabbi Aharon from Belz (1880-1957) led an ascetic life, subsisting on the bare minimum of food and drink and preoccupying himself with Torah study and intense prayer. As a child, the Rebbe of Belz was attended to a by a man who pleaded and cajoled with the future Rebbe to partake in some form of nourishment. Much to the attendant’s dismay, however, Aharon refused his overtures. One day, however, little Aharon summoned the attendant and requested a large piece of cake and a hot cup of coffee. “Remember,” Aharon exhorted the attendant, “the coffee must be steaming hot.” The attendant was overjoyed, and he hastened to perform the bidding of the future Rebbe. When Aharon received the cake and hot coffee, he promptly turned to a man in the synagogue and proffered upon him the delicacies. The attendant expressed his surprise, and Aharon responded accordingly. “This morning, upon exiting the ritual bath, I overheard this man sighing, ‘if only right now I could have a delicious piece of cake and a hot steaming cup of coffee.’ How can one hear the entreaty of a Jew and ignore it? I immediately decided that this Jew should experience a happy moment in life, and for that reason I requested that you prepare for him the cake and hot coffee.”
The Nazir is deemed to be a sinner and a holy person
A Nazir is a person who felt it necessary to abstain from the pleasures of this world, and he therefore makes a vow that he will not partake in the drinking of wine. The Hebrew word for a sinner is chotei, which means a lack. While the Nazir himself may force himself to be lacking in physical indulgences, there is no reason for him to abstain from helping others feel better about themselves. Thus, a Nazir is simultaneously referred to as a Kadosh, a holy person, because holiness is more than abstaining from materialism and leading an ascetic life. Indeed, Rashi writes that that the portion in the Torah referred to as Kedoshim, the command to be holy, was said by Moshe when all of the Jewish People were gathered together. One can only achieve true holiness when he is cognizant of another person’s needs.
We have just celebrated the festival of Shavuos when we commemorated the receiving of the Torah. Rabbi Yechiel Michel Epstein, author of the classic Halachic work Aruch Hashulchan (1829-1908) writes that the festival of Shavuos is referred to in the Torah as Atzeres, restraint, because the Jewish People were instructed to abstain from physical indulgence prior to receiving the Torah. Nonetheless, the Gemara (Pesachim 68b) states explicitly that all authorities agree that on Shavuos we are required to partake in the consumption of food delicacies, as this was the day when we received the Torah. The Jewish People stood at Sinai, united in their acceptance of HaShem’s kingship and the receiving of the Torah. It is fitting that while abstaining from physical indulgences they were simultaneously united with their fellow Jews. The lesson of the Nazir and of receiving the Torah is to strive for a higher spiritual life but to always remember our fellow Jews who are wishing for that piece of cake and very hot cup of coffee.
The Shabbos connection
Shabbos is a time when we are required to channel our desires and our will to the service of HaShem. Nonetheless, Shabbos is also an opportunity for us to allow others partake in the physical delights of food and drink and family time that can all be channeled to the service of HaShem. While it is important for an individual to restrain himself from overindulging in materialism, one should always be on the lookout to help others meet their physical needs.
Shabbos Stories
Zaidy
"I really don't want to cause you any hardship, Mr. G. I like you very much. But my daughter is getting married soon, and I need the apartment for her," my landlord announced one day.
"Oy vey," I sighed. "We're going to have to move again." This was the fourth time in ten years that we had received news like this. Those of you who own your homes probably don't remember how much moving is such an awful pain in the neck. Packing and unpacking are only minor parts of the difficulty. The hardest part is finding new schools for the kids, and helping them adjust to their new surroundings every time.
This time, we decided that we would try to find an apartment in the same neighborhood in which we had been living for the past three years. That would at least resolve the adjustment problems.
But to do that, we had to compromise on our standards, because the only apartment available in the area was a tiny one on the top floor of an old walk-up building. But what won't parents do for their kids?
And so, we packed our belongings and moved. This time, we were offered a five-year lease, with the possibility of an extension. Wow! Five years without having to worry about moving again!
After unpacking, we acquainted ourselves with the neighbors, with the building's maintenance committee, and then with "the old man." During the first few weeks after our move, we didn't know that he existed. His door was always closed, and no one seemed to enter or leave his apartment. In the beginning, we thought that no one lived there. But one day, Mr. Simon, the head of the building's maintenance committee, asked if I could do him a favor and collect the dues from the old man who lived opposite us.
I was startled. "Do you mean that I've been living here for three weeks without knowing that I have a next-door neighbor?" I asked.
"He's an old man who lives alone," Mr. Simon said. "He doesn't mingle with the neighbors."
That evening, I knocked on the old man's door. When he opened it, a horrible stench assailed me.
"Shalom," I politely said. "I live across the hall."
"Shalom," he replied feebly. "What do you want?"
"The maintenance committee asked me to collect your dues. I was told that you owe them money for four months."
"Just a moment," he replied. Then he trudged inside in order to search for the money. While I was waiting, I peeked into the apartment. The floor was filthy and the house was dark and stuffy. The old man returned to the door and apologized: "I haven't been to the bank for a long time and have only part of the sum I owe. I'll bring you the rest in a few days. Good night."
That week, I didn't see anyone opening his door nor did I see anyone on the staircase, except for members of my own family. I also didn't hear a peep from the old man's house. "I guess he goes out in the morning when we're not home," my wife ventured. Then she asked, "How does he lug his groceries and vegetables up those stairs? You told me that he can barely walk."
"Who says that he's alive? Has anyone seen him recently? Mr. Simon said that the man has no relatives," I grimly replied.
"Perhaps he's sick and needs help," my wife stammered.
Everything that occurred from then on should be credited to my wife. She insisted that I knock on the old man's door that very moment and ask how he felt. Then she put a plate of freshly baked cookies in my hand and sent me on my way. I knocked on his door and heard him shuffling about. The same old man answered, but this time he looked even more ragged. I apologized for disturbing him and offered him the cookies. At first he hesitated to take the plate and said that he still had no money, but would try and pay the following week.
When I returned to my apartment, my wife said: "The fact that he has no money for the maintenance committee can mean one of two things: either he really has no money, or he can't go down to the bank to withdraw it. If he has no money, then he probably has nothing to eat. If he can't go down to the bank, that means that it's hard for him to walk. But if he can't go downstairs, who brings him his groceries? How does he live?"
I understood her point. She was hinting that our neighbor needed help.
That evening, I knocked on his door again, another plate of cookies in my hand. "Can I come in?" I asked.
"If you wish," he stammered.
What can I say? I had never seen such a mess in my life. Everything was old, dirty, and run-down. He showed me into his living room and apologized that he couldn't offer me a cup of coffee, because he had no milk. "That's okay," I said. "We have extra milk. How do you like your coffee?"
"Warm," he blandly replied.
"I'll be back in a jiffy," I said, and I returned home to my apartment. I told my wife that she was right, and that he had no milk, and probably nothing else either. She prepared a thermos of hot coffee and gave me a few disposable cups.
I went back to his apartment and, pouring him a steaming cup of coffee, said, "My wife hopes this will do until the morning."
His eyes lit up. "Thank you. I'll buy some milk tomorrow."
"I go to the store every day," I said. "It's not hard for me to bring a few more items upstairs. Can I buy something for you?
"If it's not hard for you," he said, "please bring me a container of milk and two rolls."
"That's all?" I asked in surprise. "I can bring you more."
"Okay," he replied. "Then bring me a container of yogurt too, and charge it to me."
We chatted a bit, and he told me that he had once lived in Tel Aviv, before moving to our neighborhood. "At that time, the third floor didn't bother me," he said. Then, with a bitter smile, he added, "I didn't think that I would ever grow old and that three flights would one day be hard for me to climb."
We spoke for a few more minutes and I said that we were renting our apartment and were happy that he was our neighbor. "My wife is an orphan and my parents live in France. I hope you'll be a surrogate grandfather (Zaidy) for my kids," I said, promising to bring the children for a visit.
The next morning, I went to the grocery store and took rolls, milk, and yogurt for the old man. When I asked the grocer to charge the items to the old man's account, he said: "He hasn't paid his bill for a long time, and I can't give him any more credit."
"No problem," I said. "Charge it to me." I paid for the old man's groceries for a long time, while he was certain that the grocer was charging him...
From the day I bought those first items for him at the grocery, I made it a habit to visit him. In the afternoons, I would bring him light lunches. At first he was embarrassed, but I told him that my wife loved to cook. Every evening, I came just for a chat, bringing coffee and cookies with me.
A month later, he asked me to withdraw his recent pension payments from the bank, since he hadn't left his house for a number of months. Actually, he had very little money in his account, because his charges for utilities had been deducted directly from his pension income, which wasn't very large. When I brought him the money, he told me to pay his grocery bill, not knowing that I had been doing that all along. Believing that he had paid his debts, he was so pleased that he sent me down to buy a chocolate bar for the kids.
Every Friday afternoon my wife would tidy up his house. When he protested, she said, "You're our Zaidy, and we love you." When she saw his bed, she was shocked. Without much ado, she lugged in the brand-new bed we had bought for our children, and told him that we had no room for it.
The old man was happy with the bed, and we bought the kids a cheaper one.
Within a few months, I knew all about him. He was a childless Holocaust survivor who had refused to accept indemnities from the Germans and had earned his living by working at odd jobs. His wife had died many years earlier, and he had lived alone since then. Of course, he was too feeble to clean his apartment, and that was why it was in such a state.
Five years passed, and we signed another five-year lease. Actually, before the first lease was up, my wife and I considered moving to a larger apartment and taking the old man with us. But in the end we rejected that idea, since elderly people don't like changes.
The kids had begun to call him Zaidy, and he really was like a grandfather to them. He would test them in their school work and also liked to tell them stories.
One morning, he didn't wake up. He hadn't suffered from any particular illness and died without pain. We all wept at his small funeral and were sincerely bereaved.
We locked his apartment and had no idea what would happen to it. At the end of the shivah week, we visited his grave. A few weeks later, we erected a tombstone over it, promising that we would name either a child or a grandchild after him.
The next day, someone called us and asked if he could meet with me privately. He arrived at our house that evening and introduced himself as our late neighbor's lawyer.
"Fifteen years ago," the lawyer explained, "he asked me to help him prepare a will. He said that he had no relatives and wanted to bequeath his apartment, the only asset he owned, to an institution. I prepared a will. Before leaving he said: 'No one knows what tomorrow will bring. How will you know if I am still alive?'"
"I said that I would call him once a week, and that if there was no answer I would check the apartment to see what had happened.
"For many years, I called him every Sunday. Two years ago, he called me and asked me to come over with two witnesses. I arrived at his apartment with two of my clerks and he changed his will. When I called him last Sunday, there was no answer, and so I came by to pay him a visit. The grocer told me that he had passed away, and I knew that I had to read the will in your presence."
I didn't understand why he had to read it in our presence, but after the reading of the will everything became clear. Our elderly neighbor ― our Zaidy ― had bequeathed his only asset, his apartment, to us.
We sold the old man's apartment, took a mortgage, and bought a larger apartment in the very same neighborhood.
We never expected any reward for the simple kindness we did. However, the Master Accountant sees, records, and reckons. (www.innernet.org.il)
Shabbos: Ta’am HaChaim Naso 5770
Have a wonderful and delightful Shabbos
Prepared by Rabbi Binyomin Adler
For sponsorships please call 248-506-0363
To subscribe weekly please send email to ShabbosTaamHachaim@gmail.com
View Shabbos: Ta’am HaChaim
and other Divrei Torah on www.doreishtov.blogspot.com
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Bamidbar-Shavuos 5770
שבת טעם החיים במדבר-שבועות תש"ע
Shabbos: Ta’am HaChaim Bamidbar-Shavuos 5770
Shavuos and a time to elevate the physical
Introduction
איש על דגלו באתת לבית אבתם יחנו בני ישראל מנגד סביב לאהל מועד יחנו, the Children of Israel shall encamp, each man by his banner according to the insignias of their father’s household, at a distance surrounding the Tent of Meeting shall they camp. (Bamidbar 2:2)
In this week’s parasha, Bamidbar, the Medrash states that at Sinai the Jewish People witnessed the ministering angels on high with banners, and they desired those banners. The Sfas Emes explains that these banners were a mechanism in which the Jewish People could ascend spiritual heights, and HaShem granted them these banners to carry aloft in the Wilderness. We are now approaching the Yom Tov of Shavuos, and we will see how this Medrash is intertwined with the theme of the festival.
Half to HaShem and half to yourself
The Gemara (Pesachim 68b) cites a famous dispute between Rabbi Eliezer and Rabbi Yehoshua regarding one’s obligations on Yom Tov. Rabbi Eliezer maintains that one must either involve himself completely in spiritual matters or he must indulge himself wholly in physical delights. Rabbi Yehoshua, however, maintains that one must divide up the festival day, half in spiritual pursuits and half in physical indulgences. The Gemara states that Rabbi Eliezer agrees that on Shavuos one must also partake in physical delights, as it is the day that the Torah was given. This statement is difficult to understand, as one would have thought that on the day that we received the Torah, we should adhere to Rabbi Eliezer’s usual opinion and only engage in spiritual acts. Why did Rabbi Eliezer feel that the giving of the Torah warrants pursuit of physical indulgences?
It’s all how one arranges the letters
To understand the idea that specifically on Shavuos we are instructed to engage in physical pleasures, it is worthwhile to examine a statement in the Gemara regarding Balaam. The Gemara (Brachos 7a) states that had HaShem become angry with the Jewish People at the end of their stay in the Wilderness, Balaam would have cursed the Jewish People and they would have been destroyed. Balaam would have had a mere nanosecond to curse the Jewish People, and Tosfos (Ibid s.v. sheilmalei) wonders what Balaam could have uttered in such a short period of time. Tosfos answers that Balaam could have uttered the word kaleim, destroy them, and instead HaShem transformed the word kaleim to the word melech, king, demonstrating that HaShem is our king and loves us dearly so that we will not be destroyed. We can suggest that in essence the explanation of Tosfos revolves around the word lachem, and the question is how to read the word. Balaam wished that it would read kaleim (chaf, lamed, mem) whereas HaShem arranged the word to read melech, (mem, lamed, chaf). Balaam sought to destroy the Jewish People through physical indulgences, as is evidenced from the advice he gave Balak to seduce the Jewish People with the Moabite women. HaShem, however, desires that the Jew elevate the lachem, i.e. the physical, to a spiritual level. Thus, Rabbi Eliezer posits that on Shavuos, the day we received the Torah, we are obligated to elevate the lachem, the physical, by sanctifying our physical indulgences and negating our physical selves before HaShem. Rabbi Eliezer is not suggesting that Shavuos is a day to party. Rather, the opposite is true. Shavuos marks the day when we gain a true understanding of our purpose in this world, which is to elevate all of the physical in our lives and dedicate ourselves to Torah study and mitzvah performance.
On Shavuos we elevate the “lachem” for spirituality
Returning to the Medrash cited earlier regarding the banners that the Jewish People desired, we can better understand the yearning of the Jewish People. When HaShem opened up the heavens and the Jewish People saw the ministering angels engaged entirely in spiritual matters, they desired that their own physical pursuits be channeled towards spirituality and HaShem granted them this request. Thus, the banners symbolized the desire of the Jewish People to elevate all of their physical interest to a spiritual plane. On Shavuos, we are granted the opportunity to engage in Torah study and to elevate the physical delights of this world to spiritual activities. HaShem should grant us the strength and fortitude to accomplish this lofty task.
The Shabbos connection
The Gemara (Pesachim 68b) that we cited earlier states that all agree that on Shabbos we are required to indulge in physical delights, as it is said (Yeshaya 58:13 ) vikarasa laShabbos oneg, if you proclaim the Shabbos ‘a delight.’ The Gemara (Shabbos 118b) states that one who delights in the Shabbos is granted all the desires of his heart. The Sfas Emes cites the Chidushei HaRim who explains that the Gemara does not state that one who indulges himself on Shabbos will be granted the desires of his heart. Rather, one must delight in the Shabbos and then he will be granted his heart’s desires. HaShem should allow us to truly appreciate the Shabbos for the sake of Shabbos, and then He will surely grant us all our desires, which is to elevate the physical to the spiritual plane.
Shabbos Stories
Love of Torah
It is told that the holy Divrei Chaim, Rabbi Chaim of Sanz zt"l, would recite the blessings over the Torah with such beauty and devotion, that his disciples would gather opposite his house, next to the window, in the hope of hearing him. Tears would flow freely from the eyes of those who merited hearing him, as they were overwhelmed with love for the Torah and its study. (www.Torah.org)
A Memory Beverage
Rabbi Chaim Vital was born and raised in Safed. After his Bar Mitzvah, he studied Torah under Rabbi Moshe Alshich. One day Rabbi Yosef Karo came to caution Rabbi Alshich.
"Your student Chaim is a very remarkable young man. In the name of the Maggid, the heavenly teacher who comes to me, I request that you be exceptionally careful in supervising every stage of his development, particularly in Torah."
Rabbi Chaim quickly gained a deep understanding of Talmud and Halacha, and eventually was ordained by Rabbi Alshich. He soon turned to the mystical side of Torah and avidly studied the Zohar. In due course of time, he was initiated into the select circle of Rabbi Moshe Cordevero's disciples.
When he began studying with Rabbi Yitzchak Luria, the holy Ari, in 1570, his mentor set out a two-fold program for him to constantly follow. The first directive was to restrain himself at all times from any bad character traits. He should never get angry, depressed, haughty, or impatient, nor should he even discuss trite matters. Instead, he should maintain a low-keyed image of himself, filled with inner joy and fear of sin. The second directive was an order of learning, a detailed curriculum. Every day he should study Chumash, Mishnah, Talmud and Kabala, especially the Zohar.
Rabbi Luria stressed that man's ability to ascend the spiritual ladder depends greatly on one's kavana, his intentions and focus. Besides the necessary kavana when fulfilling a commandment, the Ari cautioned his disciple to be very meticulous when reciting blessings on food. All foods, he explained, possess (in addition to a holy spark) adverse spiritual forces (kelipos) which 'desire' to create a negative effect on the eater. Only by reciting the blessing with the proper kavana can one annul that adverse affect, thus purifying one's body and cleansing one's thoughts.
Next, Rabbi Luria delineated a path of repentance for Rabbi Chaim to follow to correct sins he had committed earlier in his life. For instance, as atonement for cursing his parents when he was a child, Rabbi Chaim was to fast for three consecutive days, meditating on certain holy names. The fast ended on Shavuot night.
"The whole night of Shavuos," wrote Rabbi Vital, "I studied Kabala with Rabbi Luria. He informed me that I had succeeded in atoning for that sin."
Both the intensity of their learning and its tremendous quantity and complexity began to affect Rabbi Vital. He realized that he could not retain all of the vast wisdom his mentor was bestowing on him.
The situation worsened.
When Rabbi Chaim confided his concern to his mentor, Rabbi Luria simply told him not to worry. He has a plan.
Together they went to Tiberias and walked through the town until they came to the fishing dock by the bank of the Kinneret (Sea of Galilee). There they rented a small boat and rowed southward into the lake in the direction of the Tomb of Rabbi Meir Baal HaNess.
About halfway there, the Ari slowed the boat and carefully scanned the water, searching for a certain spot, using an ancient synagogue on the shoreline as a landmark. When he reached the exact spot for which he had been searching, which appeared to Rabbi Chaim no different from the rest of the lake, he lowered a flask and filled it with sea water.
"Drink this!" he ordered his disciple as he handed him the flask. "It is water from the well of Miriam from which our forefathers drank in the wilderness. They were called the Generation of Knowledge, and once you have partaken of this water, it will cure you and you shall forget nothing I teach you."
So it came to pass. From that day Rabbi Chaim Vital both comprehended the wisdom of the kabalistic system of his mentor, and became its principal disseminator and redactor, in the form of the multi-volume Kisvei Ari- "Writings of the Ari," the authoritative writings of the holy Ari of blessed memory. (www.ascent.org.il)
All they wanted was a good night’s rest
Binei Brak, Israel, 1946. With many orphans expected to arrive, Rabbi Yosef Shlomo Kahanamen (the "Ponovezher Rav") was desperate to gather pillows and blankets to accommodate their needs in his orphanage, known as "Batei Avos." Their story was complex. The bulk of these orphans, stemming from homes in Poland and Soviet Russia, had been plucked from war-torn Europe and sent to Teheran. From there they had been brought to Palestine and placed in an absorption camp on the outskirts of Haifa... Now, some of these children were being brought to the Batei Avos orphanage.
It was Friday and the children were expected on Sunday, so Rabbi Kahanamen knew that he had to act quickly; he called for an emergency gathering of the "who's who" of Binei Brak. The crowd gathered from all over the city, and included laymen as well as Torah scholars. Men, women, and even children came out in droves to hear what the rabbi had to say. Before long the largest shul in Binei Brak was packed to the rafters, and the rabbi slowly made his way to the front of the room.
He looked around at the anxious crowd and began, "The Talmud tells us that if one has a servant he must treat him with the utmost dignity and respect. It's as if 'he has acquired a master for himself.' In fact, the Talmud says that if the person owns only one pillow, he is required to hand it over to his servant. But how, may I ask, does this coincide with the rule that one's own life takes precedence over someone else's? The answer is that our Sages knew that a Jew cannot possibly sleep when he knows that his worker is not being provided for. Hence the law is that you must hand over your pillow for precisely that reason - because 'your life takes precedence' ― and the only way you will be able to sleep is if you give it to him."
And then, with tears streaming down his face, Rabbi Kahanamen burst out in a heartfelt plea, "We have a large group of orphans who will be coming to our city tomorrow, and we don't have pillows and blankets for them. I beg you please, for your own sake. How will you sleep knowing that these children don't have something on which to rest their heads in comfort?"
In seconds the crowd began to stir. Immediately they went home and within an hour the rabbi had a line of hundreds of men, women, and even children, standing in front of his home with pillows and blankets. And much like Moses when funds were being collected for the Tabernacle, the rabbi had to plead with them to please stop bringing ― the orphanage was overflowing!
Those present will never forget the sight of one woman standing at the rabbi's door begging him to at least take one more pillow. And who could blame her? All she wanted was a good night's rest.
Shoot left
As a young man, Yaakov Yisrael Kanievsky (the Steipler Gaon) was confronted by many major challenges and obstacles. He was one of the many Orthodox Jews who were coerced into joining the Russian army, which meant that he had to spend time with soldiers who were violent and vicious men. Their sinister attitude toward him had filtered down from the commanding officer, who made no effort to hide his dislike for Yaakov Yisrael and his annoyance over all the problems this Jewish soldier had caused.
From the food that he refused to eat, to the special days he made himself unavailable for work and duty, Yaakov Yisrael threw a monkey wrench into the scheduling, order, and regulations which are so fundamental to army life. But since the resilient Yaakov Yisrael combined his staunch, unfaltering convictions together with a sensible low profile, more often than not he was able to stay out of harm's way.
The additional guard duty he accepted upon himself coupled with some extra sharing of responsibilities enabled him to obtain furloughs for Shabbos and holidays. But when Officer Karlenkiev watched this soldier rest while others were working, it made his blood boil. And finally he decided he would do something about it. He would make life miserable for the Jew.
The next Saturday, Karlenkiev made it his business to cross paths with the Jewish soldier. Without explaining why, he ordered Yaakov Yisrael to fire his gun at a target located fifty meters away. It was not a day designated for target practice, and there was no valid reason for Karlenkiev to have issued the order ― other than to disturb the Jewish soldier's day of rest. [Shooting a rifle is not permitted on Shabbos, and Yaakov Yisrael thought of how he could minimize the problem.]
As the startled Yaakov Yisrael mulled over his options, the spiteful commanding officer added that he should continue shooting until he hits the bull's-eye in the middle of the target. This demanding feat was no easy task for a seasoned marksman, let alone a novice like Yaakov Yisrael. This further complicated the dilemma, as Yaakov Yisrael reasoned that perhaps he had some minuscule chance of hitting the mark while shooting with his good right hand ― but that would be a full violation of Shabbos. The other option would be to shoot left-handed which ― because it is not the normal way ― is considered less of a violation of Shabbos. But shooting with his left hand, he knew, would likely greatly lower his changes of ever hitting the mark. Thus he was left in a quandary.
At first he attempted to defy the order. But Karlenkiev promptly informed him that disobeying a command from a superior officer could result in a severe punishment, possibly even death. Left with no choice, Yaakov Yisrael prepared to shoot. He deliberated and then quickly resolved to fire his gun with his left hand. True, in all probability he would not succeed and would be forced to shoot many times. However he determined that it is his responsibility to do everything within his power to reduce the Shabbos violation.
Yaakov Yisrael aimed his gun and prepared to shoot. Karlenkiev noticed that the Jew was not shooting with his stronger hand, instead he was using his weaker one! “What a fool!” he thought to himself. Doesn't he realize he'll be forced to shoot many times until he hits the mark?!
But when the gun discharged, all present were shocked to discover that the bullet had indeed hit the center of the target!
Yaakov Yisrael tried to hide his smile. He was certain that the Hand of God had guided his hand to shoot the gun so that the bullet landed exactly where it needed to.
The only one more surprised than Yaakov Yisrael was the menacing officer who had orchestrated the plot against him. Karlenkiev stared at the Jewish soldier, as it dawned on him that this was no religious fanatic, rather someone who was guarded and blessed by a Higher Being.
From that moment on, Yaakov Yisrael was treated like a hero. Karlenkiev watched out for his well-being and, ironically, became his greatest proponent. However, since he now would no longer work at all on Saturdays, the other officers felt that it would weaken the morale of the other soldiers to have an individual around who was not fulfilling his duty. Thus the only logical solution was to give him an honorable discharge from the army.
I’ll take the one who eats well
Rabbi Avraham Pam's father was a rabbi in Europe. Each Friday night, the shamash (attendant) would walk around the shul to greet all the guests in town, and to make sure that each one had a place to eat the Shabbos meal. As we would expect, distinguished-looking guests had no difficulty being invited; the congregants vied for the rights of hosting a guest bedecked in a perfectly pressed suit or frock. The bedraggled beggars who made their way from town to town, on the other hand, were usually not as fortunate; no one rushed to invite them for a meal. The shamash was charged with the unenviable task of distributing such guests among the reluctant worshipers who had not been lucky enough to host a "respectable" guest. If there was one person left over at the end of the shamash's rounds, you could be sure that the person was a true pauper, an uncouth, unsightly fellow whom no one would want at his Shabbos table.
Once, when the shamash finished his rounds, there were two people who had not been placed. One had the obvious mark of a Torah scholar; his dignified bearing bespoke refined character and scholarship. The other was a rather disheveled, corpulent fellow, the type of guest everyone avoided.
When the shamash asked Rabbi Pam's father whom he wanted to host, he asked for the obese man, and sent the Torah scholar with someone else. "If I were looking for a study partner," Rabbi Pam senior explained to the shamash, "I would have opted for that fine-looking gentleman. He looks like he knows how to learn very well. I am looking for a guest. To fulfill the mitzvah of hosting guests properly, you need someone who can eat. The fellow I chose looks like a good eater."
Lost papers saved their lives
World War II placed almost all Jews in Europe in danger, but German Jews were in a particularly difficult situation. Remaining in Germany was obviously not an option, but escaping to one of the Allied nations was likewise impossible. As ridiculous as it may seem now, German refugees were highly suspect in the Allied countries.
As Providence would have it, a group of German Jews found themselves in England during the war, and their presence placed the British government into a quandary. On one hand, it seemed impossibly cruel to turn these Jews away. On the other hand, some officials theorized that the German Jews were perhaps spying for Germany.
The British government finally came up with a solution: they would send the German Jews to Australia, which was then a British colony. This left only one problem. German U-boats (submarines) were stationed in the waters surrounding Europe, and few captains and sailors were willing to risk their lives crossing the oceans. The dregs of society ― poorly-trained anti-Semitic guards ― were set in charge of the refugees on the boat to Australia. All identifying marks were removed from the boat, and the captain and crew were instructed not to respond to any radio requests to identify themselves.
The German Jews on board were devastated. As soon as the boat set sail, the brutal guards turned their attention to the pitiful Jews and began to harass them.
Several days into the journey, the guards realized that since the Jews were at their mercy, they could have free rein with their belongings. They immediately seized all the suitcases and began to search them for valuables. When they found nothing of value in the suitcases ― anything of value had already been spent getting out of Germany ― they became enraged, and spitefully threw the suitcases into the water.
Can we imagine the devastation felt by the Jews on board? What could have been in those suitcases? Some pictures, maybe a letter or two ― precious remnants of a world not-yet insane. "What has God done to us?" they must have thought.
The boat miraculously made it to Australia unscathed. The Jews began to pick up the pieces and settle in Australia. They built homes, shuls, and communities, and slowly they forgot the bitter past.
During the 1980s, a diving team off the coast of Europe chanced upon a U-boat that had sunk. They entered the ship and found many items onboard in remarkably good condition. One of the items they managed to recover was the diary of the captain of the boat.
The diary was translated and released to the press. In one entry, the captain tells the story of a boat spotted sailing with no identification. "We ordered the captain of the boat to identify himself, and we received no response," writes the captain. "We radioed to Germany to ask them what to do. The order came back: Sink the boat.
"As we were preparing the torpedoes, we suddenly noticed suitcases floating near the boat, with papers spilling out from all sides. We sent a diver out to retrieve some of the papers, and to our surprise, we found German writing on them.
"We left the boat in peace," concludes the captain, "thrilled that we had not acted too hastily and harmed our German brethren."
Forty long years had passed. In those forty years, who knows how many times the people who were on that boat thought about all the family history they lost when the criminal sailors dumped their belongings into the sea. Who knows how many times they asked themselves, "Why did God cause us to lose the little bit of home we were able to salvage?"
Suddenly, it became clear that what had seemed so bitter was actually God's salvation; only their mementos floating away had saved them from attack...
Success can’t be from your assets, only from your faith
Isaac Nudel, a wealthy lumber merchant, was planning his yearly trip to the large forests in his area. Each year, when the snows melted, he would visit these forests and negotiate with the counts and lords who owned them. Settling on a price, he would buy a huge quantity of trees. Scores of lumbermen would cut down the trees and send the logs, lying in long rows, floating downriver. Later, in his big factories, more workers would saw those logs into boards to be fashioned into furniture and other wood products.
Isaac's business enterprises stretched far and wide. He was known as one of the country's biggest lumber merchants, and also as a generous philanthropist whose hand was always open to those in need...
It seemed to him that the sun would shine on him forever. Then, one year, his business affairs began to founder. One client died, and his son refused to deal with Isaac. A second client suddenly made contact ― for the first time in many years ― with a competitor of Isaac's. A third landlord complained that a raging fire had swept through his forest that summer, destroying thousands of trees.
In short, Isaac's luck turned. Once he began to fall, he fell long and hard. An experienced businessman, he had naturally tried to protect himself against a dry spell. To prepare for a time when he would not be in a position to buy the trees he needed, he had built giant warehouses and stockpiled thousands of tree trunks inside ― his insurance for a rainy day.
"To the warehouses!" he instructed his workers.
The men went off at once ― only to return with downcast faces.
"What happened?" Isaac asked in alarm. In his blackest nightmares, he could not have anticipated the answer: "The trees have rotted!"
"All of them?"
"Every single one. The rot ate the trunks from the inside and left all of them hollowed trunks."
Isaac's mind raced. "Swear to me that you will not tell a soul about this," he ordered. "If word of this catastrophe spreads, my creditors will come swarming out to demand what I owe them. You men will suffer as much as I will. Let's keep our lips sealed and get through this hard time together. With G-d's help, I will rise again and you will be able to continue earning your living with me."
The workers agreed to keep the secret. No one else knew about the merchant's downfall. But despair filled Isaac's heart, especially when he was forced to turn away those charity-collectors who had been accustomed to receiving generous donations from him. By dint of evasive excuses, he managed to put them off for a later date while avoiding explanations. In shul and in the street, he kept his expression impassive. But how long would he be able to keep his secret? His family, accustomed to a pampered life, began for the first time to put aside food to save for the next day. Even money for bread was scarce. How long could he keep up the pretense before everyone discovered the truth?
Isaac went about like a shadow of his former self. His conscience pained him. It is about you, he told himself, that it says, "[G-d] humbles the haughty." You were proud of wealth that was not yours, of money that had been granted to you by Heaven. Now the Creator has taken the money back and turned your good fortune to failure."
These reflections continued to torment him, gnawing away at his very bones.
A visit by Mr. Raskas, a veteran forest agent, sprinkled salt on Isaac's wounds.
Raskas had come to propose an excellent business deal: The landlord who owned the nearby town, and with whom Isaac had never yet dealt in business, had sent the agent to suggest that he sell his forest to Isaac. The deal was expected to reap a very nice profit for the lumber merchant.
"And how much does he want for his forest?" Isaac asked with feigned indifference. Inwardly, his heart was beating fast.
"It's a real bargain ― 2,000 rubles in cash. But not a kopek less! The landlord is determined about that: either he gets the 2,000 in cash, or no deal. If he hadn't been so strapped for cash at the moment, he would never have made the price so low."
Earlier that very day, Isaac had conducted an inventory of his remaining assets. His eyes had darkened with sadness at the realization that, of all his former property, only a dismal 200 rubles were left. This was only a tenth of the landlord's asking price for the forest. This unexpected deal, which had come knocking at his door at just this moment, seemed Heaven sent ― a last chance to save himself.
"Come back tomorrow," Isaac requested. "We are not speaking of an insignificant sum, after all. I need a little time to get the money together."
When Raskas was gone, Isaac lifted his eyes to the sky. In the ordinary scheme of things, there had been no purpose to his putting off the agent. He was grasping at straws, but straws were all he had. Only G-d could help now. His heart overflowed with a plea for Heaven's mercy.
He was still sitting there, lost in thought, when a good friend came to visit. The other man was a prosperous merchant, as Isaac himself had been, and they had embarked on several business deals together.
Isaac turned to him with a proposal. "Invest 1,800 rubles with me, toward the purchase of a big forest," he suggested. "We'll be equal partners in the profits. Fifty-fifty."
His friend hesitated a moment, weighing the matter. He was being asked to put up a small fortune as an investment. On the other hand, there was every prospect of huge profits. Isaac was as vigorous as ever, and was not the type to speculate in risky ventures.
The friend nodded his head and shook Isaac's hand on the deal. Then he sent to his home at once for the money.
Isaac drew a deep breath. He now had the 2,000 rubles he needed ― 200 of his own, and the rest that his friend had invested. A powerful urge swept over him, to race over to the neighboring town and give the money to the landlord before the nobleman regretted his offer. But he would not take such a big step without asking his rabbi's advice. This was his last chance. Should he fail, Heaven forbid, he would be reduced to begging in the streets!
Isaac went to his rabbi, Reb Yaakov, and submitted a note asking for a blessing for success in a big business venture. Along with the note he included a donation of a single ruble.
The rabbi will doubtless be surprised, Isaac thought. He will wonder why this formerly generous man is suddenly so stingy. But, lacking any other choice, I won't be ashamed to give just one ruble!
The rabbi read the note, then picked up the donation with an expression of dissatisfaction. "This donation is not fitting for such a large enterprise. We are talking about a business deal worth thousands of rubles." He handed the ruble back to Isaac.
Taken aback, Isaac opened his purse and took out a three-ruble coin that he had prepared for his journey to the landlord. With all his heart, he hoped the rabbi would be satisfied.
But the rabbi was not satisfied. "This is not what I meant," he said firmly. "Show me your purse."
If Isaac was surprised, he showed no sign of it. With an impassive face he placed his purse, with the 2,000 rubles inside, on the table.
The rabbi took out the bundles of bills. He set aside the larger bundle of 1,800 rubles, and took the small one, containing 200.
Isaac felt as though he was burning up. He could not wait another moment before setting the rabbi straight. "Rabbi, there is a mistake here!" he cried. "I am no longer Isaac the prosperous merchant, whose money was as plentiful as the sand by the sea, who was the first to donate to every mitzvah and eager to give to anyone in need, even before he was asked! I must reveal my secret. My luck has turned. I am now destitute. Should my fortune not turn around for the better, I will be reduced to begging for handouts. This deal is my last chance. If I succeed, perhaps I will return to what I was before. And if I fail? May Heaven have mercy on me!"
He ended his revelation with hanging head. "And so, though I understand that the rabbi needs this money for some worthy mitzvah, this time I cannot give a large donation as I used to do. I must satisfy myself with a very small donation, so that I can hand over the entire sum of 2,000 rubles to the landlord. 1,800 of them are not even my own."
The emotional outburst seemed to make no impression at all on the rabbi. "Isaac, don't be so foolish. The landlord will give you time to pay him the entire sum. Even if you give him only 1,800 rubles now, you will not lose the deal. Ask him for an extension of time to pay the remaining 200. Explain that if your business succeeds, you will be able to do so in the near future."
Steadfast in his faith in the rabbi’s wisdom, Isaac traveled to the nearby town. The landlord was familiar with the lumber merchant's sterling reputation, and knew that he could rely absolutely on Isaac's integrity. He agreed to sell his forest for the 1,800, and to wait a while for the rest.
Isaac's wheel of fortune, which had reached rock bottom, began to inch upward again. He sold the trees at a good price, and even after he divided the profits with his partner he was left with 1,000 rubles in cash. He had witnessed the fulfillment of the words "He humbles the haughty"; now he was seeing the next words come true: "He raises the downtrodden."
Isaac lifted his eyes in gratitude. "Thank You," he whispered to his Creator. "After You cast me into the pit, You have raised my soul from the grave!"
He traveled at once to the landlord and paid his debt of 200 rubles. Then he returned to the rabbi ― this time with a donation of 500 rubles.
Reb Yaakov accepted the fat bundle of bills, took out a single ruble, and returned the rest to Isaac.
"Wh-what is this?" Isaac stammered in confusion. "I gave the money with a full heart."
The rabbi smiled. "I know, my son. But you once wanted to give only one ruble. I am taking it now." He paused, then continued. "Did you think that your rabbi had turned money-hungry? That I could not be satisfied with less than 200 rubles, and had sealed my ears to poor Isaac's pleas?
"Know this," the rabbi said, and now his face glowed. "When you came to me that day, I saw that your fortune was about to sink even lower than you thought... Had you give the landlord the 200 rubles, you would not have seen any sign of blessing for the rest of your life!
"That's why I took everything you had. The only cash you actually gave the landlord was money that was not your own. That's why you were able to succeed."
The rabbi added a final word. "Had you entered on this business venture without such a powerful and stubborn faith, you would not have prospered. Your own faith opened the gates of success to you ― much more than anything I did on your behalf. And now, riches will not leave you or your descendants for many, many generations!"
(www.innernet.org.il)
Shabbos: Ta’am HaChaim Bamidbar-Shavuos 5770
Have a wonderful and delightful Shabbos and a Good Yom Tov
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Shabbos: Ta’am HaChaim Bamidbar-Shavuos 5770
Shavuos and a time to elevate the physical
Introduction
איש על דגלו באתת לבית אבתם יחנו בני ישראל מנגד סביב לאהל מועד יחנו, the Children of Israel shall encamp, each man by his banner according to the insignias of their father’s household, at a distance surrounding the Tent of Meeting shall they camp. (Bamidbar 2:2)
In this week’s parasha, Bamidbar, the Medrash states that at Sinai the Jewish People witnessed the ministering angels on high with banners, and they desired those banners. The Sfas Emes explains that these banners were a mechanism in which the Jewish People could ascend spiritual heights, and HaShem granted them these banners to carry aloft in the Wilderness. We are now approaching the Yom Tov of Shavuos, and we will see how this Medrash is intertwined with the theme of the festival.
Half to HaShem and half to yourself
The Gemara (Pesachim 68b) cites a famous dispute between Rabbi Eliezer and Rabbi Yehoshua regarding one’s obligations on Yom Tov. Rabbi Eliezer maintains that one must either involve himself completely in spiritual matters or he must indulge himself wholly in physical delights. Rabbi Yehoshua, however, maintains that one must divide up the festival day, half in spiritual pursuits and half in physical indulgences. The Gemara states that Rabbi Eliezer agrees that on Shavuos one must also partake in physical delights, as it is the day that the Torah was given. This statement is difficult to understand, as one would have thought that on the day that we received the Torah, we should adhere to Rabbi Eliezer’s usual opinion and only engage in spiritual acts. Why did Rabbi Eliezer feel that the giving of the Torah warrants pursuit of physical indulgences?
It’s all how one arranges the letters
To understand the idea that specifically on Shavuos we are instructed to engage in physical pleasures, it is worthwhile to examine a statement in the Gemara regarding Balaam. The Gemara (Brachos 7a) states that had HaShem become angry with the Jewish People at the end of their stay in the Wilderness, Balaam would have cursed the Jewish People and they would have been destroyed. Balaam would have had a mere nanosecond to curse the Jewish People, and Tosfos (Ibid s.v. sheilmalei) wonders what Balaam could have uttered in such a short period of time. Tosfos answers that Balaam could have uttered the word kaleim, destroy them, and instead HaShem transformed the word kaleim to the word melech, king, demonstrating that HaShem is our king and loves us dearly so that we will not be destroyed. We can suggest that in essence the explanation of Tosfos revolves around the word lachem, and the question is how to read the word. Balaam wished that it would read kaleim (chaf, lamed, mem) whereas HaShem arranged the word to read melech, (mem, lamed, chaf). Balaam sought to destroy the Jewish People through physical indulgences, as is evidenced from the advice he gave Balak to seduce the Jewish People with the Moabite women. HaShem, however, desires that the Jew elevate the lachem, i.e. the physical, to a spiritual level. Thus, Rabbi Eliezer posits that on Shavuos, the day we received the Torah, we are obligated to elevate the lachem, the physical, by sanctifying our physical indulgences and negating our physical selves before HaShem. Rabbi Eliezer is not suggesting that Shavuos is a day to party. Rather, the opposite is true. Shavuos marks the day when we gain a true understanding of our purpose in this world, which is to elevate all of the physical in our lives and dedicate ourselves to Torah study and mitzvah performance.
On Shavuos we elevate the “lachem” for spirituality
Returning to the Medrash cited earlier regarding the banners that the Jewish People desired, we can better understand the yearning of the Jewish People. When HaShem opened up the heavens and the Jewish People saw the ministering angels engaged entirely in spiritual matters, they desired that their own physical pursuits be channeled towards spirituality and HaShem granted them this request. Thus, the banners symbolized the desire of the Jewish People to elevate all of their physical interest to a spiritual plane. On Shavuos, we are granted the opportunity to engage in Torah study and to elevate the physical delights of this world to spiritual activities. HaShem should grant us the strength and fortitude to accomplish this lofty task.
The Shabbos connection
The Gemara (Pesachim 68b) that we cited earlier states that all agree that on Shabbos we are required to indulge in physical delights, as it is said (Yeshaya 58:13 ) vikarasa laShabbos oneg, if you proclaim the Shabbos ‘a delight.’ The Gemara (Shabbos 118b) states that one who delights in the Shabbos is granted all the desires of his heart. The Sfas Emes cites the Chidushei HaRim who explains that the Gemara does not state that one who indulges himself on Shabbos will be granted the desires of his heart. Rather, one must delight in the Shabbos and then he will be granted his heart’s desires. HaShem should allow us to truly appreciate the Shabbos for the sake of Shabbos, and then He will surely grant us all our desires, which is to elevate the physical to the spiritual plane.
Shabbos Stories
Love of Torah
It is told that the holy Divrei Chaim, Rabbi Chaim of Sanz zt"l, would recite the blessings over the Torah with such beauty and devotion, that his disciples would gather opposite his house, next to the window, in the hope of hearing him. Tears would flow freely from the eyes of those who merited hearing him, as they were overwhelmed with love for the Torah and its study. (www.Torah.org)
A Memory Beverage
Rabbi Chaim Vital was born and raised in Safed. After his Bar Mitzvah, he studied Torah under Rabbi Moshe Alshich. One day Rabbi Yosef Karo came to caution Rabbi Alshich.
"Your student Chaim is a very remarkable young man. In the name of the Maggid, the heavenly teacher who comes to me, I request that you be exceptionally careful in supervising every stage of his development, particularly in Torah."
Rabbi Chaim quickly gained a deep understanding of Talmud and Halacha, and eventually was ordained by Rabbi Alshich. He soon turned to the mystical side of Torah and avidly studied the Zohar. In due course of time, he was initiated into the select circle of Rabbi Moshe Cordevero's disciples.
When he began studying with Rabbi Yitzchak Luria, the holy Ari, in 1570, his mentor set out a two-fold program for him to constantly follow. The first directive was to restrain himself at all times from any bad character traits. He should never get angry, depressed, haughty, or impatient, nor should he even discuss trite matters. Instead, he should maintain a low-keyed image of himself, filled with inner joy and fear of sin. The second directive was an order of learning, a detailed curriculum. Every day he should study Chumash, Mishnah, Talmud and Kabala, especially the Zohar.
Rabbi Luria stressed that man's ability to ascend the spiritual ladder depends greatly on one's kavana, his intentions and focus. Besides the necessary kavana when fulfilling a commandment, the Ari cautioned his disciple to be very meticulous when reciting blessings on food. All foods, he explained, possess (in addition to a holy spark) adverse spiritual forces (kelipos) which 'desire' to create a negative effect on the eater. Only by reciting the blessing with the proper kavana can one annul that adverse affect, thus purifying one's body and cleansing one's thoughts.
Next, Rabbi Luria delineated a path of repentance for Rabbi Chaim to follow to correct sins he had committed earlier in his life. For instance, as atonement for cursing his parents when he was a child, Rabbi Chaim was to fast for three consecutive days, meditating on certain holy names. The fast ended on Shavuot night.
"The whole night of Shavuos," wrote Rabbi Vital, "I studied Kabala with Rabbi Luria. He informed me that I had succeeded in atoning for that sin."
Both the intensity of their learning and its tremendous quantity and complexity began to affect Rabbi Vital. He realized that he could not retain all of the vast wisdom his mentor was bestowing on him.
The situation worsened.
When Rabbi Chaim confided his concern to his mentor, Rabbi Luria simply told him not to worry. He has a plan.
Together they went to Tiberias and walked through the town until they came to the fishing dock by the bank of the Kinneret (Sea of Galilee). There they rented a small boat and rowed southward into the lake in the direction of the Tomb of Rabbi Meir Baal HaNess.
About halfway there, the Ari slowed the boat and carefully scanned the water, searching for a certain spot, using an ancient synagogue on the shoreline as a landmark. When he reached the exact spot for which he had been searching, which appeared to Rabbi Chaim no different from the rest of the lake, he lowered a flask and filled it with sea water.
"Drink this!" he ordered his disciple as he handed him the flask. "It is water from the well of Miriam from which our forefathers drank in the wilderness. They were called the Generation of Knowledge, and once you have partaken of this water, it will cure you and you shall forget nothing I teach you."
So it came to pass. From that day Rabbi Chaim Vital both comprehended the wisdom of the kabalistic system of his mentor, and became its principal disseminator and redactor, in the form of the multi-volume Kisvei Ari- "Writings of the Ari," the authoritative writings of the holy Ari of blessed memory. (www.ascent.org.il)
All they wanted was a good night’s rest
Binei Brak, Israel, 1946. With many orphans expected to arrive, Rabbi Yosef Shlomo Kahanamen (the "Ponovezher Rav") was desperate to gather pillows and blankets to accommodate their needs in his orphanage, known as "Batei Avos." Their story was complex. The bulk of these orphans, stemming from homes in Poland and Soviet Russia, had been plucked from war-torn Europe and sent to Teheran. From there they had been brought to Palestine and placed in an absorption camp on the outskirts of Haifa... Now, some of these children were being brought to the Batei Avos orphanage.
It was Friday and the children were expected on Sunday, so Rabbi Kahanamen knew that he had to act quickly; he called for an emergency gathering of the "who's who" of Binei Brak. The crowd gathered from all over the city, and included laymen as well as Torah scholars. Men, women, and even children came out in droves to hear what the rabbi had to say. Before long the largest shul in Binei Brak was packed to the rafters, and the rabbi slowly made his way to the front of the room.
He looked around at the anxious crowd and began, "The Talmud tells us that if one has a servant he must treat him with the utmost dignity and respect. It's as if 'he has acquired a master for himself.' In fact, the Talmud says that if the person owns only one pillow, he is required to hand it over to his servant. But how, may I ask, does this coincide with the rule that one's own life takes precedence over someone else's? The answer is that our Sages knew that a Jew cannot possibly sleep when he knows that his worker is not being provided for. Hence the law is that you must hand over your pillow for precisely that reason - because 'your life takes precedence' ― and the only way you will be able to sleep is if you give it to him."
And then, with tears streaming down his face, Rabbi Kahanamen burst out in a heartfelt plea, "We have a large group of orphans who will be coming to our city tomorrow, and we don't have pillows and blankets for them. I beg you please, for your own sake. How will you sleep knowing that these children don't have something on which to rest their heads in comfort?"
In seconds the crowd began to stir. Immediately they went home and within an hour the rabbi had a line of hundreds of men, women, and even children, standing in front of his home with pillows and blankets. And much like Moses when funds were being collected for the Tabernacle, the rabbi had to plead with them to please stop bringing ― the orphanage was overflowing!
Those present will never forget the sight of one woman standing at the rabbi's door begging him to at least take one more pillow. And who could blame her? All she wanted was a good night's rest.
Shoot left
As a young man, Yaakov Yisrael Kanievsky (the Steipler Gaon) was confronted by many major challenges and obstacles. He was one of the many Orthodox Jews who were coerced into joining the Russian army, which meant that he had to spend time with soldiers who were violent and vicious men. Their sinister attitude toward him had filtered down from the commanding officer, who made no effort to hide his dislike for Yaakov Yisrael and his annoyance over all the problems this Jewish soldier had caused.
From the food that he refused to eat, to the special days he made himself unavailable for work and duty, Yaakov Yisrael threw a monkey wrench into the scheduling, order, and regulations which are so fundamental to army life. But since the resilient Yaakov Yisrael combined his staunch, unfaltering convictions together with a sensible low profile, more often than not he was able to stay out of harm's way.
The additional guard duty he accepted upon himself coupled with some extra sharing of responsibilities enabled him to obtain furloughs for Shabbos and holidays. But when Officer Karlenkiev watched this soldier rest while others were working, it made his blood boil. And finally he decided he would do something about it. He would make life miserable for the Jew.
The next Saturday, Karlenkiev made it his business to cross paths with the Jewish soldier. Without explaining why, he ordered Yaakov Yisrael to fire his gun at a target located fifty meters away. It was not a day designated for target practice, and there was no valid reason for Karlenkiev to have issued the order ― other than to disturb the Jewish soldier's day of rest. [Shooting a rifle is not permitted on Shabbos, and Yaakov Yisrael thought of how he could minimize the problem.]
As the startled Yaakov Yisrael mulled over his options, the spiteful commanding officer added that he should continue shooting until he hits the bull's-eye in the middle of the target. This demanding feat was no easy task for a seasoned marksman, let alone a novice like Yaakov Yisrael. This further complicated the dilemma, as Yaakov Yisrael reasoned that perhaps he had some minuscule chance of hitting the mark while shooting with his good right hand ― but that would be a full violation of Shabbos. The other option would be to shoot left-handed which ― because it is not the normal way ― is considered less of a violation of Shabbos. But shooting with his left hand, he knew, would likely greatly lower his changes of ever hitting the mark. Thus he was left in a quandary.
At first he attempted to defy the order. But Karlenkiev promptly informed him that disobeying a command from a superior officer could result in a severe punishment, possibly even death. Left with no choice, Yaakov Yisrael prepared to shoot. He deliberated and then quickly resolved to fire his gun with his left hand. True, in all probability he would not succeed and would be forced to shoot many times. However he determined that it is his responsibility to do everything within his power to reduce the Shabbos violation.
Yaakov Yisrael aimed his gun and prepared to shoot. Karlenkiev noticed that the Jew was not shooting with his stronger hand, instead he was using his weaker one! “What a fool!” he thought to himself. Doesn't he realize he'll be forced to shoot many times until he hits the mark?!
But when the gun discharged, all present were shocked to discover that the bullet had indeed hit the center of the target!
Yaakov Yisrael tried to hide his smile. He was certain that the Hand of God had guided his hand to shoot the gun so that the bullet landed exactly where it needed to.
The only one more surprised than Yaakov Yisrael was the menacing officer who had orchestrated the plot against him. Karlenkiev stared at the Jewish soldier, as it dawned on him that this was no religious fanatic, rather someone who was guarded and blessed by a Higher Being.
From that moment on, Yaakov Yisrael was treated like a hero. Karlenkiev watched out for his well-being and, ironically, became his greatest proponent. However, since he now would no longer work at all on Saturdays, the other officers felt that it would weaken the morale of the other soldiers to have an individual around who was not fulfilling his duty. Thus the only logical solution was to give him an honorable discharge from the army.
I’ll take the one who eats well
Rabbi Avraham Pam's father was a rabbi in Europe. Each Friday night, the shamash (attendant) would walk around the shul to greet all the guests in town, and to make sure that each one had a place to eat the Shabbos meal. As we would expect, distinguished-looking guests had no difficulty being invited; the congregants vied for the rights of hosting a guest bedecked in a perfectly pressed suit or frock. The bedraggled beggars who made their way from town to town, on the other hand, were usually not as fortunate; no one rushed to invite them for a meal. The shamash was charged with the unenviable task of distributing such guests among the reluctant worshipers who had not been lucky enough to host a "respectable" guest. If there was one person left over at the end of the shamash's rounds, you could be sure that the person was a true pauper, an uncouth, unsightly fellow whom no one would want at his Shabbos table.
Once, when the shamash finished his rounds, there were two people who had not been placed. One had the obvious mark of a Torah scholar; his dignified bearing bespoke refined character and scholarship. The other was a rather disheveled, corpulent fellow, the type of guest everyone avoided.
When the shamash asked Rabbi Pam's father whom he wanted to host, he asked for the obese man, and sent the Torah scholar with someone else. "If I were looking for a study partner," Rabbi Pam senior explained to the shamash, "I would have opted for that fine-looking gentleman. He looks like he knows how to learn very well. I am looking for a guest. To fulfill the mitzvah of hosting guests properly, you need someone who can eat. The fellow I chose looks like a good eater."
Lost papers saved their lives
World War II placed almost all Jews in Europe in danger, but German Jews were in a particularly difficult situation. Remaining in Germany was obviously not an option, but escaping to one of the Allied nations was likewise impossible. As ridiculous as it may seem now, German refugees were highly suspect in the Allied countries.
As Providence would have it, a group of German Jews found themselves in England during the war, and their presence placed the British government into a quandary. On one hand, it seemed impossibly cruel to turn these Jews away. On the other hand, some officials theorized that the German Jews were perhaps spying for Germany.
The British government finally came up with a solution: they would send the German Jews to Australia, which was then a British colony. This left only one problem. German U-boats (submarines) were stationed in the waters surrounding Europe, and few captains and sailors were willing to risk their lives crossing the oceans. The dregs of society ― poorly-trained anti-Semitic guards ― were set in charge of the refugees on the boat to Australia. All identifying marks were removed from the boat, and the captain and crew were instructed not to respond to any radio requests to identify themselves.
The German Jews on board were devastated. As soon as the boat set sail, the brutal guards turned their attention to the pitiful Jews and began to harass them.
Several days into the journey, the guards realized that since the Jews were at their mercy, they could have free rein with their belongings. They immediately seized all the suitcases and began to search them for valuables. When they found nothing of value in the suitcases ― anything of value had already been spent getting out of Germany ― they became enraged, and spitefully threw the suitcases into the water.
Can we imagine the devastation felt by the Jews on board? What could have been in those suitcases? Some pictures, maybe a letter or two ― precious remnants of a world not-yet insane. "What has God done to us?" they must have thought.
The boat miraculously made it to Australia unscathed. The Jews began to pick up the pieces and settle in Australia. They built homes, shuls, and communities, and slowly they forgot the bitter past.
During the 1980s, a diving team off the coast of Europe chanced upon a U-boat that had sunk. They entered the ship and found many items onboard in remarkably good condition. One of the items they managed to recover was the diary of the captain of the boat.
The diary was translated and released to the press. In one entry, the captain tells the story of a boat spotted sailing with no identification. "We ordered the captain of the boat to identify himself, and we received no response," writes the captain. "We radioed to Germany to ask them what to do. The order came back: Sink the boat.
"As we were preparing the torpedoes, we suddenly noticed suitcases floating near the boat, with papers spilling out from all sides. We sent a diver out to retrieve some of the papers, and to our surprise, we found German writing on them.
"We left the boat in peace," concludes the captain, "thrilled that we had not acted too hastily and harmed our German brethren."
Forty long years had passed. In those forty years, who knows how many times the people who were on that boat thought about all the family history they lost when the criminal sailors dumped their belongings into the sea. Who knows how many times they asked themselves, "Why did God cause us to lose the little bit of home we were able to salvage?"
Suddenly, it became clear that what had seemed so bitter was actually God's salvation; only their mementos floating away had saved them from attack...
Success can’t be from your assets, only from your faith
Isaac Nudel, a wealthy lumber merchant, was planning his yearly trip to the large forests in his area. Each year, when the snows melted, he would visit these forests and negotiate with the counts and lords who owned them. Settling on a price, he would buy a huge quantity of trees. Scores of lumbermen would cut down the trees and send the logs, lying in long rows, floating downriver. Later, in his big factories, more workers would saw those logs into boards to be fashioned into furniture and other wood products.
Isaac's business enterprises stretched far and wide. He was known as one of the country's biggest lumber merchants, and also as a generous philanthropist whose hand was always open to those in need...
It seemed to him that the sun would shine on him forever. Then, one year, his business affairs began to founder. One client died, and his son refused to deal with Isaac. A second client suddenly made contact ― for the first time in many years ― with a competitor of Isaac's. A third landlord complained that a raging fire had swept through his forest that summer, destroying thousands of trees.
In short, Isaac's luck turned. Once he began to fall, he fell long and hard. An experienced businessman, he had naturally tried to protect himself against a dry spell. To prepare for a time when he would not be in a position to buy the trees he needed, he had built giant warehouses and stockpiled thousands of tree trunks inside ― his insurance for a rainy day.
"To the warehouses!" he instructed his workers.
The men went off at once ― only to return with downcast faces.
"What happened?" Isaac asked in alarm. In his blackest nightmares, he could not have anticipated the answer: "The trees have rotted!"
"All of them?"
"Every single one. The rot ate the trunks from the inside and left all of them hollowed trunks."
Isaac's mind raced. "Swear to me that you will not tell a soul about this," he ordered. "If word of this catastrophe spreads, my creditors will come swarming out to demand what I owe them. You men will suffer as much as I will. Let's keep our lips sealed and get through this hard time together. With G-d's help, I will rise again and you will be able to continue earning your living with me."
The workers agreed to keep the secret. No one else knew about the merchant's downfall. But despair filled Isaac's heart, especially when he was forced to turn away those charity-collectors who had been accustomed to receiving generous donations from him. By dint of evasive excuses, he managed to put them off for a later date while avoiding explanations. In shul and in the street, he kept his expression impassive. But how long would he be able to keep his secret? His family, accustomed to a pampered life, began for the first time to put aside food to save for the next day. Even money for bread was scarce. How long could he keep up the pretense before everyone discovered the truth?
Isaac went about like a shadow of his former self. His conscience pained him. It is about you, he told himself, that it says, "[G-d] humbles the haughty." You were proud of wealth that was not yours, of money that had been granted to you by Heaven. Now the Creator has taken the money back and turned your good fortune to failure."
These reflections continued to torment him, gnawing away at his very bones.
A visit by Mr. Raskas, a veteran forest agent, sprinkled salt on Isaac's wounds.
Raskas had come to propose an excellent business deal: The landlord who owned the nearby town, and with whom Isaac had never yet dealt in business, had sent the agent to suggest that he sell his forest to Isaac. The deal was expected to reap a very nice profit for the lumber merchant.
"And how much does he want for his forest?" Isaac asked with feigned indifference. Inwardly, his heart was beating fast.
"It's a real bargain ― 2,000 rubles in cash. But not a kopek less! The landlord is determined about that: either he gets the 2,000 in cash, or no deal. If he hadn't been so strapped for cash at the moment, he would never have made the price so low."
Earlier that very day, Isaac had conducted an inventory of his remaining assets. His eyes had darkened with sadness at the realization that, of all his former property, only a dismal 200 rubles were left. This was only a tenth of the landlord's asking price for the forest. This unexpected deal, which had come knocking at his door at just this moment, seemed Heaven sent ― a last chance to save himself.
"Come back tomorrow," Isaac requested. "We are not speaking of an insignificant sum, after all. I need a little time to get the money together."
When Raskas was gone, Isaac lifted his eyes to the sky. In the ordinary scheme of things, there had been no purpose to his putting off the agent. He was grasping at straws, but straws were all he had. Only G-d could help now. His heart overflowed with a plea for Heaven's mercy.
He was still sitting there, lost in thought, when a good friend came to visit. The other man was a prosperous merchant, as Isaac himself had been, and they had embarked on several business deals together.
Isaac turned to him with a proposal. "Invest 1,800 rubles with me, toward the purchase of a big forest," he suggested. "We'll be equal partners in the profits. Fifty-fifty."
His friend hesitated a moment, weighing the matter. He was being asked to put up a small fortune as an investment. On the other hand, there was every prospect of huge profits. Isaac was as vigorous as ever, and was not the type to speculate in risky ventures.
The friend nodded his head and shook Isaac's hand on the deal. Then he sent to his home at once for the money.
Isaac drew a deep breath. He now had the 2,000 rubles he needed ― 200 of his own, and the rest that his friend had invested. A powerful urge swept over him, to race over to the neighboring town and give the money to the landlord before the nobleman regretted his offer. But he would not take such a big step without asking his rabbi's advice. This was his last chance. Should he fail, Heaven forbid, he would be reduced to begging in the streets!
Isaac went to his rabbi, Reb Yaakov, and submitted a note asking for a blessing for success in a big business venture. Along with the note he included a donation of a single ruble.
The rabbi will doubtless be surprised, Isaac thought. He will wonder why this formerly generous man is suddenly so stingy. But, lacking any other choice, I won't be ashamed to give just one ruble!
The rabbi read the note, then picked up the donation with an expression of dissatisfaction. "This donation is not fitting for such a large enterprise. We are talking about a business deal worth thousands of rubles." He handed the ruble back to Isaac.
Taken aback, Isaac opened his purse and took out a three-ruble coin that he had prepared for his journey to the landlord. With all his heart, he hoped the rabbi would be satisfied.
But the rabbi was not satisfied. "This is not what I meant," he said firmly. "Show me your purse."
If Isaac was surprised, he showed no sign of it. With an impassive face he placed his purse, with the 2,000 rubles inside, on the table.
The rabbi took out the bundles of bills. He set aside the larger bundle of 1,800 rubles, and took the small one, containing 200.
Isaac felt as though he was burning up. He could not wait another moment before setting the rabbi straight. "Rabbi, there is a mistake here!" he cried. "I am no longer Isaac the prosperous merchant, whose money was as plentiful as the sand by the sea, who was the first to donate to every mitzvah and eager to give to anyone in need, even before he was asked! I must reveal my secret. My luck has turned. I am now destitute. Should my fortune not turn around for the better, I will be reduced to begging for handouts. This deal is my last chance. If I succeed, perhaps I will return to what I was before. And if I fail? May Heaven have mercy on me!"
He ended his revelation with hanging head. "And so, though I understand that the rabbi needs this money for some worthy mitzvah, this time I cannot give a large donation as I used to do. I must satisfy myself with a very small donation, so that I can hand over the entire sum of 2,000 rubles to the landlord. 1,800 of them are not even my own."
The emotional outburst seemed to make no impression at all on the rabbi. "Isaac, don't be so foolish. The landlord will give you time to pay him the entire sum. Even if you give him only 1,800 rubles now, you will not lose the deal. Ask him for an extension of time to pay the remaining 200. Explain that if your business succeeds, you will be able to do so in the near future."
Steadfast in his faith in the rabbi’s wisdom, Isaac traveled to the nearby town. The landlord was familiar with the lumber merchant's sterling reputation, and knew that he could rely absolutely on Isaac's integrity. He agreed to sell his forest for the 1,800, and to wait a while for the rest.
Isaac's wheel of fortune, which had reached rock bottom, began to inch upward again. He sold the trees at a good price, and even after he divided the profits with his partner he was left with 1,000 rubles in cash. He had witnessed the fulfillment of the words "He humbles the haughty"; now he was seeing the next words come true: "He raises the downtrodden."
Isaac lifted his eyes in gratitude. "Thank You," he whispered to his Creator. "After You cast me into the pit, You have raised my soul from the grave!"
He traveled at once to the landlord and paid his debt of 200 rubles. Then he returned to the rabbi ― this time with a donation of 500 rubles.
Reb Yaakov accepted the fat bundle of bills, took out a single ruble, and returned the rest to Isaac.
"Wh-what is this?" Isaac stammered in confusion. "I gave the money with a full heart."
The rabbi smiled. "I know, my son. But you once wanted to give only one ruble. I am taking it now." He paused, then continued. "Did you think that your rabbi had turned money-hungry? That I could not be satisfied with less than 200 rubles, and had sealed my ears to poor Isaac's pleas?
"Know this," the rabbi said, and now his face glowed. "When you came to me that day, I saw that your fortune was about to sink even lower than you thought... Had you give the landlord the 200 rubles, you would not have seen any sign of blessing for the rest of your life!
"That's why I took everything you had. The only cash you actually gave the landlord was money that was not your own. That's why you were able to succeed."
The rabbi added a final word. "Had you entered on this business venture without such a powerful and stubborn faith, you would not have prospered. Your own faith opened the gates of success to you ― much more than anything I did on your behalf. And now, riches will not leave you or your descendants for many, many generations!"
(www.innernet.org.il)
Shabbos: Ta’am HaChaim Bamidbar-Shavuos 5770
Have a wonderful and delightful Shabbos and a Good Yom Tov
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Thursday, May 6, 2010
Shabbos: Ta’am HaChaim Behar-Bechukosai 5770
שבת טעם החיים בהר-בחקותי תש"ע
Shabbos: Ta’am HaChaim Behar-Bechukosai 5770
Casualness Is not a way of life for the Jewish People
Introduction
ואם בזאת לא תשמעו לי והלכתם עמי בקרי, if despite this you will not heed Me, and you behave toward Me with casualness (Vayikra 26:27)
One of the most quoted forewarnings that the Jewish People have received in recent history was the prophetic words of Rabbi Meir Simcha from Devinsk, commonly referred to as the Meshech Chochma (1843-1926). In the parshaha of Bechukosai Reb Meir Simcha writes that if the Jew thinks that Berlin is Jerusalem then a raging storm wind will uproot him by his trunk a tempest will arise and spread its roaring waves, and swallow, and destroy, and flood forth without pity. Sadly enough, this premonition was realized when we lost, HaShem should save us, six million Jews in what is referred to as the Holocaust. What is unique about this warning is that the Torah itself warns us of devastating consequences if we abandon our service of hashem and if we treated HaShem’s mitzvos with carelessness. Why is it, then, that it is only the words of Reb Meir Simcha that are so well known whereas the Tochacha, the rebuke that we read in Parashas Bechukosai and in Parashas Ki Savo, seem to be ignored by the general population?
What does it mean to be casual in mitzvah observance?
The Torah describes the errant behavior that results in cataclysmic consequences for the Jewish People as keri, casualness. What is the meaning of this casualness? The conventional explanation for casualness regarding mitzvah observance is that one performs the mitzvos with a lack of fervor and enthusiasm. However, this explanation appears difficult, as one would think that the Jewish People should not have to suffer so terribly if they perform the mitzvos, albeit lackadaisically. Perhaps there is a deeper meaning to the casualness that the Torah is referring to.
Amalek caused the Jewish People to become casual
Regarding the incident where Amalek attacked the Jewish People upon liberation from Egypt, it is said (Devarim 25:17-18) zachor eis asher asah lecho Amalek baderech bitzeischem miMitzrayim asher korcha baderech vayizaneiv bicho kol hanecheshalim acharecho viatah ayeif viyageia viol yarei Elokim, remember what Amalek did to you, on the way, when you were leaving Egypt. That he happened upon you on the way, and he struck those of you who were hindmost, all the weaklings at your rear, when you were faint and exhausted, and he did not fear G-d. The simple reading here is that the Jewish People were fatigued upon leaving Egypt and Amalek ambushed them. Furthermore, the Torah states that Amalek did not fear G-d, implying that the Jewish people were not at fault for this ill-fated encounter. The Sfas Emes, however, understands the words what Amalek did to you to mean that Amalek caused that the Jewish People became casual and disconnected from hashem. While our main focus is usually on the evil that Amalek perpetrated, we must also remember how we reacted to their overtures. The Evil Inclination and the nations of the world appear to have a great hold over us, but in truth, we are the ones who are ultimately responsible for our behaviors.
The ambush of Amalek was deliberate to cause us to become casual
It is noteworthy that the Torah uses the word keri, casualness, in describing the deviant behavior of the Jewish People. Similarly, regarding the ambush of Amalek, the Torah uses the word korcha, happened upon you, which also denotes casualness. This seems to be paradoxical, as one does not normally perceive an ambush as casual. Rather, one who ambushes his enemy usually does so in a deliberate manner. The Torah, however, is demonstrating to us that the ultimate goal of Amalek was to cause us to become casual. With this premise we can better understand the premonition of the Meshech Chochma. When the Jewish People are in exile and become acclimated to the gentile society, they become victims to the ambush of Amalek and subsequently they develop a casual attitude towards hashem and His Torah. To declare that Berlin is Jerusalem is just an outward expression of this casualness.
Today more than ever we need to intensify our Torah study and mitzvah observance
Casualness in mitzvah observance is very subtle, as one can study Torah, pray, and perform mitzvos even in a casual manner and believe that he is fulfilling his requirements. The Torah instructs us that this is not so. In the beginning of Parashas Bechukosai the Torah states that we receive the blessings of HaShem when we toil in Torah study. The study of Torah and all mitzvah performance was never meant to be approached in a casual manner. Only by being diligent and deliberate in our service of HaShem can we hope to defeat the diabolical schemes of Amalek and his cohorts. The words of the Meshech Chochma ring true even today, and even more so, as society continues to unsheathe its weapons of destruction through media and technology. The influences appear to be subtle, but their effects are devastating. Intense Torah study and prayer is what can help us resist the blandishments of Amalek and contemporary society.
The Shabbos connection
Shabbos is the day when we are free from the overtures of the Evil Inclination and the nations of the world. The Gemara (Shabbos 118b) states that had the Jewish People observed the first Shabbos in the Wilderness, no race or nation would have been able to dominate them. Subsequent to their violation of the first Shabbos, Amalek attacked the Jewish People. The Torah and the Gemara could not be clearer with the message of what we need to do to ward off the blandishments of Amalek. Hashem should allow us to observe the Shabbos faithfully, and then we will achieve dominance over the nations of the world, with the speedy arrival of Moshiach Tzidkeinu.
Shabbos Stories
Have true bitachon
A wealthy businessman once sunk most of his considerable assets into a lumber venture. The lumber was to be transported by floating it down the Dnieper River, an economical but somewhat risky process.
The man came to the Netziv, Rabbi Naftali Tzvi Berlin zt"l for a beracha (blessing) that all should go well. The Netziv told him to have bitachon (faith) in Hashem, Who will certainly help him.
"Of course I know that I should have bitachon," the man said. "But what can I do - I am still extremely nervous!"
"You know," said the Netziv, "now I understand a passage in the Torah that has always bothered me. The Torah says the Jews will ask, 'How can we keep Shemitah? What will we eat on the seventh year?' One wonders: Why were they so concerned over the seventh year? Didn't they prepare for it in the sixth year? They should have been concerned over the eighth year!
"Let us consider, however, to whom the Torah is speaking - instructing them not to worry and to have bitachon. Certainly it is not to the poor, firstly because they are already used to relying on bitachon, and secondly because they own no land. Rather, the Torah must be speaking to the wealthy landowners, who are used to 'earning their own living,' and are not connected with bitachon on a regular basis. They can't believe they can survive without their active participation, without "doing it themselves!" This is why they are already nervous, even for the seventh year.
"Don't worry," concluded the Netziv. "Have true bitachon, and all will be well!"
Maybe this is what HaShem is trying to tell you
Rav Noach Weinberg tells a story about a long-haired, "hippie" sort of fellow who walked into his Yeshiva with long hair and the typical accompanying mode of dress. He told Rav Noach, "I don't need a Yeshiva, because G-d and I are like this (as he showed his fingers twisted together to represent a 'twosome')!" Rav Noach asked, "How do you know that you and G-d are like 'this'?" The student responded that he was riding his bike along a mountain road and a truck came along, veered toward him, forcing him off the cliff with his bike. He saw himself going down the tremendous embankment and visualized that the end was at hand. All of a sudden, he saw a branch hanging out of the mountain. He reached out and hung on, and was saved, walking away without a scratch. "That's how I know," he said, "that G-d and I are like 'this'!" Rav Noach then asked him, "Did you ever think about why the truck knocked you off the cliff? Maybe that is what G-d is trying to tell you." (www.Torah.org)
A volcanic ash blessing
A universal crisis, millions of people stranded and billions of dollars lost, as one volcanic eruption in Iceland causes chaos across the European continent. Within all this tumult, one Jew merits a smile of grace from the Creator of the World, and a miraculous series of events begins to unfold.
The story begins with a young yeshiva student, an 18 year old Jerusalemite, who came down with a fulminate hepatic failure and was mortally ill. The doctors agreed there was no hope for him unless he could receive a liver transplant.
With little hope of receiving a liver transplant in Israel, his family consulted with Rabbi Firer, known for his successful record of medical referrals. The rabbi advised to send the boy immediately to Brussels, the world center of liver transplants. He cautioned, however, that Brussels is known to not transplant non-EU patients under any circumstances, in order to save the scanty supply of livers for Europeans. Nevertheless, it was decided to send him to Brussels anyway, despite the full knowledge of the negligible chance of receiving a liver, and the effort and expenses involved. It was the boy's last hope.
Upon arrival, the young student had no choice but to add his name to the long waiting list for a liver transplant. In the meantime, he tried to maintain his yeshiva-studies schedule despite the illness, consciously aware that it could take weeks, months, and even years till he will be able to be given a new liver. Many patients were on the waiting list, and his name was somewhere on the bottom. And should his turn finally arrive, the liver must completely match his blood type and other medical criteria. If it is not a perfect match, he will need to continue waiting...for a miracle.
However, "Many thoughts in a man's heart; nevertheless the plan of G-d shall prevail," and it seems G-d had a different plan for this young Jew. In the month of Iyar, whose letters stand for the words "ani Hashem rofecha" - "I, G-d, am your healer" -- the Almighty's loyal servants produced avalanches of hot ash, rock and gas in Iceland, causing Europe to completely shut down its skies and create a no-fly zone. No one could leave and no one could enter during this self-imposed embargo.
Meanwhile, throughout this time, a religious boy from Jerusalem continued to sit in a yeshiva in the capital of Belgium, diligently learning Torah.
In the midst of the closure, a person died in the famous Brussels, a person who had agreed to donate his liver to anyone that might need it. Astonishingly, this liver was a perfect match in every parameter for the young yeshiva student.
The health authorities of Belgium began contacting the names on liver transplant waiting list in order, but 'unfortunately,' not even one patient was able to fly into Belgium for a desperately needed healthy-liver transplant, as a result of the after-effects of the volcanic eruption in Iceland.
As they advanced further on the waiting list, they reached the student from Israel. Nevertheless, they did not offer the liver to the boy because of his lack of citizenship.
The clock ticked closer and closer to the deadline for the amount of time in which the liver would still be viable for transplanting. The precious healthy liver must not be wasted and would have to be swiftly used to replace a diseased liver. But no one was able to arrive in Belgium for the transplant except the young Yerushalmi.
So, thanks to clear Divine Intervention, the dedicated young yeshiva student received the liver and is now recovering from surgery.
The enormity of this miracle became even clearer after the successful liver transplant. The doctors said that the young yeshiva student's liver was very deteriorated and diseased, and in a matter of days his liver would have stopped functioning completely. The doctors unanimously believe that if this young man had to continue waiting for the liver transplant, he would have been long dead.
The names of the patient (the hospital and the doctors) cannot be released, because of the increasingly strict laws about patient privacy. We wish him a speedy and complete recovery, and long and healthy years.
A miracle in Meiron
This story occurred on the 7th of Adar, the yahrtzeit of Moshe Rabbeinu, which fell on a Shabbos that year. Two students from one of the Lubavitcher yeshivas in Israel decided to go to Meiron in order to spend the Shabbos near the resting place of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai.
It was a clear and chilly Friday. The two students came to Meiron a few hours before the beginning of Shabbos and began making preparations; they found a place to sleep and arranged their personal belongings. Then they went for a long walk in the Meiron Mountains. They enjoyed the majestic serenity over these mountains of the Galilee. The clear fresh air and the knowledge that they were walking on the same paths used by the holy ancestors of the Jewish people gave them a feeling of being spiritually uplifted.
They lost all concept of time, and only when they heard the faint sound of the Shabbos siren in the village of Meiron, heralding the arrival of Queen Shabbos, did they realize that they had to return to their hostel immediately before the entrance of Shabbos.
In ten minutes' time the Shabbos candles were to be lit and they were still so far away. How would they have time to have a shower, change clothes and prepare themselves for Shabbos?
They immediately began to run as fast as they could on the road leading to their place of lodging. However, it was too far away and they understood that they had little chance of getting there on time.
While running, one of the boys pointed at a small path, winding its way to the top of the mountain.
"Look", he said to his friend, "we have already walked on that path. It is a short-cut that will bring us straight to the hostel."
His friend immediately agreed, and instead of running on the road, they turned onto the small path that was winding its way between the bushes on the mountain. They ran as fast as they could, but they soon came to an abrupt stop, unable to continue.
An enormous black dog stood there blocking their way, and there was no sign that it would allow them to pass. The boys had no time for persuasion and turned to the right side of the path in order to pass the dog and continue on their way. However, the dog also moved to their right and did not allow them to pass. Then they tried to pass him on the left but the same thing happened: he blocked their way again.
The students knew that Shabbos was to start within the next few minutes and decided to pass the dog, come what may. They decided to try and pass him quickly but to their horror the huge dog stood up on its hind legs and opened its mouth in such a frightening way that they ran straight back to the main road leading to Meiron, convinced that they had no other choice.
In the middle of the difficult and strenuous run they noticed a woman standing at the bus stop. Next to her, on the ground, there were two big suitcases. When the boys reached her, she said very excitedly, "It is so good that you came. Please could you help me carry my suitcases to the hostel? Afterwards I shall tell you about a miracle that does not occur every day."
The boys took the cases on their backs without asking any questions and ran as fast as they could to the hostel.
They participated in the Shabbos prayers with devotion and joy of heart. Despite the long run they felt an inner peace and were happy that they had come to Meiron for Shabbos. It would have been better if they had made more proper preparations for Shabbos, but on the other hand they had performed a great mitzvah by helping the woman with her suitcases. She had arrived at the hostel in time to light the Shabbos candles.
The following day they met the woman whom they had assisted. She asked them to be seated and began to relate her story:
"For a long time I wished to go to the holy site of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai in order to pray there. When the 7th of Adar approached, I decided to go to Meiron.
"I packed whatever I needed for the weekend in two suitcases. They were too heavy for me to carry all the way from the bus stop to the lodging in Meiron, but I was sure that somebody would be willing to help me. I arrived at Meiron an hour and a half before Shabbos, but to my great surprise I was the only one who got off the bus as this stop.
"I stood on the road, waiting for somebody to come. As time went by, I began to be more and more worried. When I heard the Shabbos siren, I realized that my chances of arriving there on time were very slim. Where would I spend my Shabbos?
"I started to pray to G-d and ask for help. I cried and begged. I brought Shabbos candles with me in my suitcase, but I did not bring any matches. During all my life I have been very conscientious about lighting the Shabbos candles - and now, near the resting place of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, I was to lose this dear mitzvah? I beseeched G-d for help to perform this commandment.
"Suddenly I saw how both of you came running on the road in my direction. I was so happy. Within a few moments you would reach the bus stop and you would certainly be willing to help me with my suitcases.
'To my great dismay, I saw that suddenly you turned onto a side path and began to go up the mountain. I prayed to G-d that he should perform a miracle. You were so very close to the spot where I was waiting.
"I prayed to G-d that he should send an angel from above who would make you turn into my direction -- and suddenly I saw that huge black dog standing in your way!
"You can surely understand how anxious I was when I saw how you tried to pass the dog! I prayed fervently to G-d that you should be unable to walk around him -- and at that very moment he stood up on his hind legs to his full size. I then saw how you returned to the main road until you reached the place where I was waiting!
"I am sure that because of my strong wish to light the Shabbos candles - not for my sake but for the sake of G-d - I had the privilege to see how my prayers were fulfilled in such a wondrous way!"(www.ascentofsafed.com)
Rav Mendele MiRimanov Saves The Shul
A contingent of government officials came to Rimanov to search the city for a suitable storage warehouse for the army's food and supplies. After combing the city, the only place they came up with was the local Shul. When the heads of the Kehila heard, they ran to Rav Mendele of Rimanov to ask him what to do.
One person jumped up and said that as soon as the officials find out that the roof leaks and all their supplies will be ruined, they will not use our Shul as a storehouse. Everyone agreed and seemed satisfied with the plan. However Rav Mendele, with his great Yiras Shamayim, heard this and said that they are sorely mistaken. In fact it is because of the leaky roof that this Gezeira befell them. If we don't take care of our Shul and are Mizalzel in its honor allowing the roof to leak, what do you expect of the non-Jews? Go fix the roof right away and everything will be okay.
They did as they were commanded and never heard from the officials again. (www.Revach.net)
Shabbos: Ta’am HaChaim Behar-Bechukosai 5770
Have a wonderful and delightful Shabbos
Prepared by Rabbi Binyomin Adler
For sponsorships please call 248-506-0363
To subscribe weekly please send email to ShabbosTaamHachaim@gmail.com
View Shabbos: Ta’am HaChaim
and other Divrei Torah on www.doreishtov.blogspot.com
Shabbos: Ta’am HaChaim Behar-Bechukosai 5770
Casualness Is not a way of life for the Jewish People
Introduction
ואם בזאת לא תשמעו לי והלכתם עמי בקרי, if despite this you will not heed Me, and you behave toward Me with casualness (Vayikra 26:27)
One of the most quoted forewarnings that the Jewish People have received in recent history was the prophetic words of Rabbi Meir Simcha from Devinsk, commonly referred to as the Meshech Chochma (1843-1926). In the parshaha of Bechukosai Reb Meir Simcha writes that if the Jew thinks that Berlin is Jerusalem then a raging storm wind will uproot him by his trunk a tempest will arise and spread its roaring waves, and swallow, and destroy, and flood forth without pity. Sadly enough, this premonition was realized when we lost, HaShem should save us, six million Jews in what is referred to as the Holocaust. What is unique about this warning is that the Torah itself warns us of devastating consequences if we abandon our service of hashem and if we treated HaShem’s mitzvos with carelessness. Why is it, then, that it is only the words of Reb Meir Simcha that are so well known whereas the Tochacha, the rebuke that we read in Parashas Bechukosai and in Parashas Ki Savo, seem to be ignored by the general population?
What does it mean to be casual in mitzvah observance?
The Torah describes the errant behavior that results in cataclysmic consequences for the Jewish People as keri, casualness. What is the meaning of this casualness? The conventional explanation for casualness regarding mitzvah observance is that one performs the mitzvos with a lack of fervor and enthusiasm. However, this explanation appears difficult, as one would think that the Jewish People should not have to suffer so terribly if they perform the mitzvos, albeit lackadaisically. Perhaps there is a deeper meaning to the casualness that the Torah is referring to.
Amalek caused the Jewish People to become casual
Regarding the incident where Amalek attacked the Jewish People upon liberation from Egypt, it is said (Devarim 25:17-18) zachor eis asher asah lecho Amalek baderech bitzeischem miMitzrayim asher korcha baderech vayizaneiv bicho kol hanecheshalim acharecho viatah ayeif viyageia viol yarei Elokim, remember what Amalek did to you, on the way, when you were leaving Egypt. That he happened upon you on the way, and he struck those of you who were hindmost, all the weaklings at your rear, when you were faint and exhausted, and he did not fear G-d. The simple reading here is that the Jewish People were fatigued upon leaving Egypt and Amalek ambushed them. Furthermore, the Torah states that Amalek did not fear G-d, implying that the Jewish people were not at fault for this ill-fated encounter. The Sfas Emes, however, understands the words what Amalek did to you to mean that Amalek caused that the Jewish People became casual and disconnected from hashem. While our main focus is usually on the evil that Amalek perpetrated, we must also remember how we reacted to their overtures. The Evil Inclination and the nations of the world appear to have a great hold over us, but in truth, we are the ones who are ultimately responsible for our behaviors.
The ambush of Amalek was deliberate to cause us to become casual
It is noteworthy that the Torah uses the word keri, casualness, in describing the deviant behavior of the Jewish People. Similarly, regarding the ambush of Amalek, the Torah uses the word korcha, happened upon you, which also denotes casualness. This seems to be paradoxical, as one does not normally perceive an ambush as casual. Rather, one who ambushes his enemy usually does so in a deliberate manner. The Torah, however, is demonstrating to us that the ultimate goal of Amalek was to cause us to become casual. With this premise we can better understand the premonition of the Meshech Chochma. When the Jewish People are in exile and become acclimated to the gentile society, they become victims to the ambush of Amalek and subsequently they develop a casual attitude towards hashem and His Torah. To declare that Berlin is Jerusalem is just an outward expression of this casualness.
Today more than ever we need to intensify our Torah study and mitzvah observance
Casualness in mitzvah observance is very subtle, as one can study Torah, pray, and perform mitzvos even in a casual manner and believe that he is fulfilling his requirements. The Torah instructs us that this is not so. In the beginning of Parashas Bechukosai the Torah states that we receive the blessings of HaShem when we toil in Torah study. The study of Torah and all mitzvah performance was never meant to be approached in a casual manner. Only by being diligent and deliberate in our service of HaShem can we hope to defeat the diabolical schemes of Amalek and his cohorts. The words of the Meshech Chochma ring true even today, and even more so, as society continues to unsheathe its weapons of destruction through media and technology. The influences appear to be subtle, but their effects are devastating. Intense Torah study and prayer is what can help us resist the blandishments of Amalek and contemporary society.
The Shabbos connection
Shabbos is the day when we are free from the overtures of the Evil Inclination and the nations of the world. The Gemara (Shabbos 118b) states that had the Jewish People observed the first Shabbos in the Wilderness, no race or nation would have been able to dominate them. Subsequent to their violation of the first Shabbos, Amalek attacked the Jewish People. The Torah and the Gemara could not be clearer with the message of what we need to do to ward off the blandishments of Amalek. Hashem should allow us to observe the Shabbos faithfully, and then we will achieve dominance over the nations of the world, with the speedy arrival of Moshiach Tzidkeinu.
Shabbos Stories
Have true bitachon
A wealthy businessman once sunk most of his considerable assets into a lumber venture. The lumber was to be transported by floating it down the Dnieper River, an economical but somewhat risky process.
The man came to the Netziv, Rabbi Naftali Tzvi Berlin zt"l for a beracha (blessing) that all should go well. The Netziv told him to have bitachon (faith) in Hashem, Who will certainly help him.
"Of course I know that I should have bitachon," the man said. "But what can I do - I am still extremely nervous!"
"You know," said the Netziv, "now I understand a passage in the Torah that has always bothered me. The Torah says the Jews will ask, 'How can we keep Shemitah? What will we eat on the seventh year?' One wonders: Why were they so concerned over the seventh year? Didn't they prepare for it in the sixth year? They should have been concerned over the eighth year!
"Let us consider, however, to whom the Torah is speaking - instructing them not to worry and to have bitachon. Certainly it is not to the poor, firstly because they are already used to relying on bitachon, and secondly because they own no land. Rather, the Torah must be speaking to the wealthy landowners, who are used to 'earning their own living,' and are not connected with bitachon on a regular basis. They can't believe they can survive without their active participation, without "doing it themselves!" This is why they are already nervous, even for the seventh year.
"Don't worry," concluded the Netziv. "Have true bitachon, and all will be well!"
Maybe this is what HaShem is trying to tell you
Rav Noach Weinberg tells a story about a long-haired, "hippie" sort of fellow who walked into his Yeshiva with long hair and the typical accompanying mode of dress. He told Rav Noach, "I don't need a Yeshiva, because G-d and I are like this (as he showed his fingers twisted together to represent a 'twosome')!" Rav Noach asked, "How do you know that you and G-d are like 'this'?" The student responded that he was riding his bike along a mountain road and a truck came along, veered toward him, forcing him off the cliff with his bike. He saw himself going down the tremendous embankment and visualized that the end was at hand. All of a sudden, he saw a branch hanging out of the mountain. He reached out and hung on, and was saved, walking away without a scratch. "That's how I know," he said, "that G-d and I are like 'this'!" Rav Noach then asked him, "Did you ever think about why the truck knocked you off the cliff? Maybe that is what G-d is trying to tell you." (www.Torah.org)
A volcanic ash blessing
A universal crisis, millions of people stranded and billions of dollars lost, as one volcanic eruption in Iceland causes chaos across the European continent. Within all this tumult, one Jew merits a smile of grace from the Creator of the World, and a miraculous series of events begins to unfold.
The story begins with a young yeshiva student, an 18 year old Jerusalemite, who came down with a fulminate hepatic failure and was mortally ill. The doctors agreed there was no hope for him unless he could receive a liver transplant.
With little hope of receiving a liver transplant in Israel, his family consulted with Rabbi Firer, known for his successful record of medical referrals. The rabbi advised to send the boy immediately to Brussels, the world center of liver transplants. He cautioned, however, that Brussels is known to not transplant non-EU patients under any circumstances, in order to save the scanty supply of livers for Europeans. Nevertheless, it was decided to send him to Brussels anyway, despite the full knowledge of the negligible chance of receiving a liver, and the effort and expenses involved. It was the boy's last hope.
Upon arrival, the young student had no choice but to add his name to the long waiting list for a liver transplant. In the meantime, he tried to maintain his yeshiva-studies schedule despite the illness, consciously aware that it could take weeks, months, and even years till he will be able to be given a new liver. Many patients were on the waiting list, and his name was somewhere on the bottom. And should his turn finally arrive, the liver must completely match his blood type and other medical criteria. If it is not a perfect match, he will need to continue waiting...for a miracle.
However, "Many thoughts in a man's heart; nevertheless the plan of G-d shall prevail," and it seems G-d had a different plan for this young Jew. In the month of Iyar, whose letters stand for the words "ani Hashem rofecha" - "I, G-d, am your healer" -- the Almighty's loyal servants produced avalanches of hot ash, rock and gas in Iceland, causing Europe to completely shut down its skies and create a no-fly zone. No one could leave and no one could enter during this self-imposed embargo.
Meanwhile, throughout this time, a religious boy from Jerusalem continued to sit in a yeshiva in the capital of Belgium, diligently learning Torah.
In the midst of the closure, a person died in the famous Brussels, a person who had agreed to donate his liver to anyone that might need it. Astonishingly, this liver was a perfect match in every parameter for the young yeshiva student.
The health authorities of Belgium began contacting the names on liver transplant waiting list in order, but 'unfortunately,' not even one patient was able to fly into Belgium for a desperately needed healthy-liver transplant, as a result of the after-effects of the volcanic eruption in Iceland.
As they advanced further on the waiting list, they reached the student from Israel. Nevertheless, they did not offer the liver to the boy because of his lack of citizenship.
The clock ticked closer and closer to the deadline for the amount of time in which the liver would still be viable for transplanting. The precious healthy liver must not be wasted and would have to be swiftly used to replace a diseased liver. But no one was able to arrive in Belgium for the transplant except the young Yerushalmi.
So, thanks to clear Divine Intervention, the dedicated young yeshiva student received the liver and is now recovering from surgery.
The enormity of this miracle became even clearer after the successful liver transplant. The doctors said that the young yeshiva student's liver was very deteriorated and diseased, and in a matter of days his liver would have stopped functioning completely. The doctors unanimously believe that if this young man had to continue waiting for the liver transplant, he would have been long dead.
The names of the patient (the hospital and the doctors) cannot be released, because of the increasingly strict laws about patient privacy. We wish him a speedy and complete recovery, and long and healthy years.
A miracle in Meiron
This story occurred on the 7th of Adar, the yahrtzeit of Moshe Rabbeinu, which fell on a Shabbos that year. Two students from one of the Lubavitcher yeshivas in Israel decided to go to Meiron in order to spend the Shabbos near the resting place of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai.
It was a clear and chilly Friday. The two students came to Meiron a few hours before the beginning of Shabbos and began making preparations; they found a place to sleep and arranged their personal belongings. Then they went for a long walk in the Meiron Mountains. They enjoyed the majestic serenity over these mountains of the Galilee. The clear fresh air and the knowledge that they were walking on the same paths used by the holy ancestors of the Jewish people gave them a feeling of being spiritually uplifted.
They lost all concept of time, and only when they heard the faint sound of the Shabbos siren in the village of Meiron, heralding the arrival of Queen Shabbos, did they realize that they had to return to their hostel immediately before the entrance of Shabbos.
In ten minutes' time the Shabbos candles were to be lit and they were still so far away. How would they have time to have a shower, change clothes and prepare themselves for Shabbos?
They immediately began to run as fast as they could on the road leading to their place of lodging. However, it was too far away and they understood that they had little chance of getting there on time.
While running, one of the boys pointed at a small path, winding its way to the top of the mountain.
"Look", he said to his friend, "we have already walked on that path. It is a short-cut that will bring us straight to the hostel."
His friend immediately agreed, and instead of running on the road, they turned onto the small path that was winding its way between the bushes on the mountain. They ran as fast as they could, but they soon came to an abrupt stop, unable to continue.
An enormous black dog stood there blocking their way, and there was no sign that it would allow them to pass. The boys had no time for persuasion and turned to the right side of the path in order to pass the dog and continue on their way. However, the dog also moved to their right and did not allow them to pass. Then they tried to pass him on the left but the same thing happened: he blocked their way again.
The students knew that Shabbos was to start within the next few minutes and decided to pass the dog, come what may. They decided to try and pass him quickly but to their horror the huge dog stood up on its hind legs and opened its mouth in such a frightening way that they ran straight back to the main road leading to Meiron, convinced that they had no other choice.
In the middle of the difficult and strenuous run they noticed a woman standing at the bus stop. Next to her, on the ground, there were two big suitcases. When the boys reached her, she said very excitedly, "It is so good that you came. Please could you help me carry my suitcases to the hostel? Afterwards I shall tell you about a miracle that does not occur every day."
The boys took the cases on their backs without asking any questions and ran as fast as they could to the hostel.
They participated in the Shabbos prayers with devotion and joy of heart. Despite the long run they felt an inner peace and were happy that they had come to Meiron for Shabbos. It would have been better if they had made more proper preparations for Shabbos, but on the other hand they had performed a great mitzvah by helping the woman with her suitcases. She had arrived at the hostel in time to light the Shabbos candles.
The following day they met the woman whom they had assisted. She asked them to be seated and began to relate her story:
"For a long time I wished to go to the holy site of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai in order to pray there. When the 7th of Adar approached, I decided to go to Meiron.
"I packed whatever I needed for the weekend in two suitcases. They were too heavy for me to carry all the way from the bus stop to the lodging in Meiron, but I was sure that somebody would be willing to help me. I arrived at Meiron an hour and a half before Shabbos, but to my great surprise I was the only one who got off the bus as this stop.
"I stood on the road, waiting for somebody to come. As time went by, I began to be more and more worried. When I heard the Shabbos siren, I realized that my chances of arriving there on time were very slim. Where would I spend my Shabbos?
"I started to pray to G-d and ask for help. I cried and begged. I brought Shabbos candles with me in my suitcase, but I did not bring any matches. During all my life I have been very conscientious about lighting the Shabbos candles - and now, near the resting place of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, I was to lose this dear mitzvah? I beseeched G-d for help to perform this commandment.
"Suddenly I saw how both of you came running on the road in my direction. I was so happy. Within a few moments you would reach the bus stop and you would certainly be willing to help me with my suitcases.
'To my great dismay, I saw that suddenly you turned onto a side path and began to go up the mountain. I prayed to G-d that he should perform a miracle. You were so very close to the spot where I was waiting.
"I prayed to G-d that he should send an angel from above who would make you turn into my direction -- and suddenly I saw that huge black dog standing in your way!
"You can surely understand how anxious I was when I saw how you tried to pass the dog! I prayed fervently to G-d that you should be unable to walk around him -- and at that very moment he stood up on his hind legs to his full size. I then saw how you returned to the main road until you reached the place where I was waiting!
"I am sure that because of my strong wish to light the Shabbos candles - not for my sake but for the sake of G-d - I had the privilege to see how my prayers were fulfilled in such a wondrous way!"(www.ascentofsafed.com)
Rav Mendele MiRimanov Saves The Shul
A contingent of government officials came to Rimanov to search the city for a suitable storage warehouse for the army's food and supplies. After combing the city, the only place they came up with was the local Shul. When the heads of the Kehila heard, they ran to Rav Mendele of Rimanov to ask him what to do.
One person jumped up and said that as soon as the officials find out that the roof leaks and all their supplies will be ruined, they will not use our Shul as a storehouse. Everyone agreed and seemed satisfied with the plan. However Rav Mendele, with his great Yiras Shamayim, heard this and said that they are sorely mistaken. In fact it is because of the leaky roof that this Gezeira befell them. If we don't take care of our Shul and are Mizalzel in its honor allowing the roof to leak, what do you expect of the non-Jews? Go fix the roof right away and everything will be okay.
They did as they were commanded and never heard from the officials again. (www.Revach.net)
Shabbos: Ta’am HaChaim Behar-Bechukosai 5770
Have a wonderful and delightful Shabbos
Prepared by Rabbi Binyomin Adler
For sponsorships please call 248-506-0363
To subscribe weekly please send email to ShabbosTaamHachaim@gmail.com
View Shabbos: Ta’am HaChaim
and other Divrei Torah on www.doreishtov.blogspot.com
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