Shabbos: Ta’am HaChaim Vaeschanan 5770

שבת טעם החיים ואתחנן תש"ע
Shabbos: Ta’am HaChaim Vaeschanan 5770

Abundant blessing amidst catastrophe

Introduction
כי תוליד במים ובני בנים ונושנתם בארץ והשחתם יעשיתם פסל תמונת כל ועשיתם הרע בעיני ה' אלקיך להכעיסו, when you beget children and grandchildren and will have been long in the Land, you will grow corrupt and make a carved image of anything, an you will do evil in the eyes of HaShem, your G-d, to anger him. (Devarim 4:25)
In this week’s parasha it is said (Devarim 4:25) ki solid banim uvnei vanim vinoshantem baaretz vihischatem vaasisem pesel temunas kol vaasisem hara bieinei HaShem Elokecho lihachiso, when you beget children and grandchildren and will have been long in the Land, you will grow corrupt and make a carved image of anything, an you will do evil in the eyes of HaShem, your G-d, to anger him. The Torah uses different terminology here when introducing the forewarning that the Jewish people will sin in the future. Normally the Torah commences a topic by stating, when you enter the land. Here the Torah begins by stating that you will have children and grandchildren. Why is it necessary to state that you will have children and grandchildren? The answer to this question can be found in the Sefer Mayaan Bais Hashoeiva from Rav Shimon Schwab zt”l. In Parashas Mishpatim (Shemos 21:22) it said vichi yinatzu anashim vinagfu isha harah viyatzu yiladeha vilo yihiyeh ason anosh yeianeish kaasher yashis alav baal haisha vinasan biflilim, if men shall fight and they collide with a pregnant woman and she miscarries, but there will be no fatality, he shall surely be punished as the husband of the woman shall caused to be assessed against him, and he shall pay it by order of judges. Rav Schwab wonders why the Torah used the word yiladeha, which is in the plural form, as opposed to the singular form. The answer, Rav Schwab writers, as that although the Torah is discussing a calamitous situation, nonetheless the Torah promises that there will be a proliferation of children being born. In a similar vein we can suggest that although the Torah here is describing the catastrophe that will occur when the Jewish People sin, the Torah still promises that there will be a birth of children and grandchildren.
Praying for Eretz Yisroel and actually residing there
One of the Kinnos that we recite on Tisha BaAv was authored by the famous Rabbi Yehudah HaLevi, entitled “Tziyon halo sishali lishlom asirayich, Zion, you will certainly inquire about the peace of your captives. The commentary points out that Rabbi Yehudah HaLevi authored the classical philosophical work called the Kuzari, where the king of Khazar taunts the wise Jew regarding the fact that they appear to pay lip service insincere lip service to Zion, their homeland. While they pray three times a day for the restoration of Zion, they are not actually willing to leave behind the prosperity and comfort of the exile to reside in Eretz Yisroel. This reprimand caused the Jewish sage to reevaluate his situation and he resolved to leave the lands of the gentiles and to settle in Eretz Yisroel. Rabbi Yehudah Halevi himself took these words to heart and made his way to Eretz Yisroel, where, according to tradition, he fell to the ground near the Temple Mount and was subsequently trampled by an Arab horseman.
Moshe’s prayers to enter Eretz Yisroel serves as an inspiration for us
This incident is reflected in the beginning of this week’s parasha. Moshe entreats Hashem to allow him entry into Eretz Yisroel, and HaShem refuses his request. I have long wondered what the purpose of these prayers were if Hashem did not satisfy Moshe. Perhaps the Torah is teaching us that this was a catastrophic situation for Moshe, given the fact that he was not allowed entry into Eretz Yisroel. Nonetheless, when Moshe prayed, he described the beauty of Eretz Yisroel, and this depiction alone should be sufficient to stir within us a yearning to return to our homeland. Thus, the Torah and the Kinnos that we recite on Tisha BaAv are constant reminders to us that Hashem gave us a beautiful land, and we must constantly pray for our return to Eretz Yisroel.
The Shabbos connection
Every week we greet the Holy Shabbos, which is a semblance of the World to Come. The Shem MiShmuel writes that while the atmosphere in the exile is contaminating, Shabbos is akin to Eretz Yisroel and can atone for all of the impurities that we are exposed to. This week is referred to as Shabbos Nachamu, the Shabbos of Consolation. HaShem should console us with the Ultimate Redemption and the arrival of Moshiach Tzidkeinu, speedily, in our days.
Shabbos Stories
The Filthy Nation?

Of the hundreds of heroic stories told by the Bluzhever Rebbe about his harrowing experiences in the Janowska labor camp during World War II, one episode is not well known at all. It is the story of Dr. Shimon Ringel. It is the courageous tale of a valiant man and his fight to preserve the honor of his people.
Arriving at the labor camp on August 26, 1942, Shimon, a young man in his 30s, carried with him a spirit of defiance and an inner strength. He was shocked at how the Jews all followed the orders of their German superiors; he desperately tried to convince the other inmates that eventually all of them would be killed, every last one. So why follow the Germans' orders and work for their cause? Why not spread the word to the thousands of other inmates? But a number of factors prevented him from doing this.
First of all, it was difficult to ever speak to a large number of people. The Nazis watched their every move carefully, ensuring that no one spoke to anyone else unless it was for a purpose. After work it was nearly impossible to find someone who had either the physical strength or the will to converse. They were shattered both in body and spirit. The only thing they wanted was to rest their bruised and weary bodies. Who had time or interest to speak about hope and pride? They were by and large walking skeletons, living out their days until the time came to die. And when it would, they would gladly leave this nightmarish existence.
So the voices of the Shimon Ringels had no chance of being heard. But Shimon would speak to the Bluzhever Rebbe. In him he found someone who would listen and at least try to share in his hope.
The labor camp was a scene of subhuman conditions ― appalling sanitation, little food, and constant harassment and beatings. Daily, they were forced to endure lineups where the SS guards would degrade and humiliate them.
"Which nation are the biggest liars and cheaters?" the SS guards would call out in glee, almost suppressing a snide smirk as they waited anxiously for the answer. "We the Jews are!" would be the cry of the degraded prisoners. Anyone daring not to scream out this answer would suffer by being chosen to stand in the middle of the courtyard and be beaten ― beaten until he died ― while his fellow Jews watched.
But Shimon could not bear to watch this horrible sight. He could no longer tolerate these barbarians mocking G-d and His holy nation. It is one thing to beat someone physically, but to humiliate the soul of a Jew, that was just too much. The humiliation and shame hurt so badly that Shimon decided to do something about it.
One of the daily rituals in the camp was the trip the inmates would take to the bathhouses. Although they were given the opportunity to bathe themselves, it was on a strict schedule. They had, to undress, bathe and redress all within a period of 5 minutes. Anyone not keeping to the schedule would be killed instantly. And tragically, often more blood would flow from those bathhouses, than water.
Afterward, again, the humiliating ceremony would begin. "Who's the filthiest nation on earth?" the Nazi guard would call out. "It is we the Jews who are infested with lice and filth."
"And why are you no longer dirty?"
"Because the kind and benevolent commandant has allowed us to cleanse ourselves."
The scene was sickening and shameful. But woe to the individual who dared to defy the sadistic guard. And for the longest time no one dared to do so. Until Shimon Ringel.
Shimon armed himself with a small dose of cyanide and one middle-sized rock. As the routine was about to begin, he turned to the Bluzhever Rebbe with tears in his eyes and he begged, "Please forgive me, Rebbe. I know that after what I am going to do, you will suffer together with the rest of the inmates. But I can no longer tolerate the shame they are causing to G-d and the Jewish people. I don't know if you will survive but promise me that if you do, you will tell this story to let people know that someone did not allow them to shame G-d's people."
The Rebbe tried to convince Shimon not to do it. But it was too late. The routine began. "Who is the filthiest nation on earth?"
Shimon refused to answer, while the rest of them struggled to proclaim that they were the filthiest nation, when they knew that the exact opposite was true. It did not take long for the Nazi guards to notice that Shimon was not responding to the questions in the same manner as everyone else.
"Why are you not answering, Jew?"
This time it was the Commandant Kolinko who spoke with a mixture of anger and confusion. "How dare you not answer the way you have been taught?" The commandant was visibly shaken and surprised that this Jew was so defiant!
"Because it is not true. The Jewish people are not filthy and we are not a lowly nation. It is you who should be ashamed of yourselves, you dirty dog. You kill innocent women and children. It is you who should be embarrassed for who you are."
And as soon as Shimon finished his diatribe, the commandant, shocked by his impudence, approached him and stepped right up to his face. Suddenly Shimon spit at him and smashed the rock he had hidden against the commandant's head.
Immediately chaos ensued. The SS guards pounced on Shimon and beat him mercilessly as the commandant bled profusely. But Shimon did not feel it at all. He was now in a place where no one could hurt him.
Miraculously, somehow, someway, the matter was swept aside. One of those who survived was the Bluzhever Rebbe, Rav Yisroel Spira, who retold this story.
On the Edge
There is always the question of whether to leave the phone on full volume or to lower it before retiring. After all, no one relishes being awakened in the middle of the night. In our house, however, the decision is usually made to keep it plugged in "just in case." Thus, it was at 3:00 a.m. when I was jarred awake by the shrill sound of the phone ringing. I grabbed it after one ring.
"Hello, is this Rabbi David Goldwasser?" The voice on the other end of the line was not only unfamiliar, but had a gruff edge to it.
"Yes, this is he."
Then in a very businesslike manner, "Rabbi, I'm Officer Costanza of the N.Y.P.D. I've got a young lady here who is standing on the roof of her apartment building, ready to jump. She says you're her rabbi, so maybe you could talk to her. She's serious, Rabbi. She won't let us come within two feet of her, and she looks like the real thing. She just wants to speak to you first. Her name is Elaine Smith."
I had never received a phone call like this before. From the midst of a deep sleep I had been thrust into the middle of a life-and-death situation that required the sharpest mind, the most persuasive tongue, and the greatest help from heaven. I could only pray that all three would materialize in time. I did not recognize the young lady's name, but before I even had a chance to answer, I heard him hand the phone to Elaine.
She at once began to speak in a slow and steady monotone. "I can't go on anymore. I just want to end it all. The difficulties I've been having... they're just too much to bear. I can't take it any longer. I just want it to end. The pain I'm in... Going to school didn't help. My existence ― it's too painful. I'm alone. Don't you see that? I've tried to help myself, but I just can't seem to do it. I just can't. Nobody understands me. I want to put an end to this misery..."
Elaine continued her diatribe for what seemed like a very long time. As she spoke, I paced back and forth with the phone pressed hard against my ear, alternately sweating and shivering. A human life hung in the balance. I trembled at the knowledge that such a dejected soul needed a reason to continue and that I had to supply her with that reason. Ironically, the only thing that stood between Elaine and a horrible death 30 stories below was the instrument of communication that she and I held in our hands.
She paused for a second. Quickly, before she could start again, I said, "Elaine, don't ever give up. A Jew doesn't give up. Our sages said that as long as a person lives there is hope. You have not exhausted every possibility of hope. You are young and you have many years ahead of you ― happy years, fruitful years. Don't let this moment of desperation cloud everything you've accomplished in your life so far..."
She charged in loudly and with bitterness, "That's not true! I haven't accomplished anything. I'm not a good person. I don't deserve to live." Then quietly with a stifled sob, "Help me! I'm in pain."
I could tell from her voice that Elaine was becoming more dejected by the minute. My mind raced. What could I say? How could I veer her thoughts away from this demoralizing trend? Suddenly it came to me. I had met her once at a symposium for Jewish professionals in upper Manhattan, where I had delivered a lecture about four years ago. I remembered a mention of parents, so I quickly asked in as casual a way as possible, "Elaine, how are your parents?"
To my complete horror, she began yelling, "Why do you ask me about my parents? What do they have to do with this? Why did you mention them?" She kept on and on while I futilely tried to calm her down.
"Elaine, I only wanted to ask how your family was doing. Your parents have nothing to do with this. You're absolutely right. I only..."
Abruptly, she interrupted me. "Why aren't you here?"
"Give me 15 minutes and I'll be there," I answered quickly.
Again she started screaming, "No! Don't go. Don't hang up. Don't get off this phone." Then she began rambling along in the same vein: She was worthless. She wanted to end it all. No one understood her. Then, "Why aren't you here?"
I repeated my offer to jump into a cab and be there in 15 minutes.
Then she announced, "That's it! I'm going to end it. I've had enough of this talk." She sounded completely sincere. Desperately, I wondered what I should say. Should I take a chance on reminding her about how she would be hurting her parents? No. Obviously that was a sensitive subject. Should I quote the Torah about the sacred value of a human life? My mind was a miasma of thoughts and questions.
I forced myself to retain at least a veneer of calmness. "Elaine, I accept your decision. But I still have one question I would like to ask you. What shall I tell your future fiancé?"
Suddenly she became still. There was absolute silence for a second. Then Elaine answered, in a subdued voice, "I don't have one."
"That's not true!" I countered. "[Our sages say that] 40 days before a baby is formed, a Heavenly voice proclaims: The daughter of this person will marry that person. Every Jewish soul that comes to this world has a match somewhere. So that means that there is a groom somewhere waiting for you, too. And I just want to know what to tell him in case he asks me about you."
"You mean even I might one day stand under a chuppah?"
"Elaine, I honestly believe so."
The next thing I heard over the phone was bitter crying and a great deal of shuffling sounds. Then the original gruff voice came back on the line, only this time there was an undercurrent of strong emotion. "Okay, Rabbi, we've got her. She's fine. We've got her. You did a good job, Rabbi, and G-d bless you...










Shabbos: Ta’am HaChaim Vaeschanan 5770
is sponsored in honor of the marriage of Shua and Esther Miriam Krupenia. Mazel Tov to the parents and grandparents and they should be zoche to build a Bayis Neeman BiYisroel
Have a wonderful and delightful Shabbos
Prepared by Rabbi Binyomin Adler
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