EDITORIAL

By Shmuel Tzvi Adler 

We all have moments in our lives when we feel like we are impure, “rotten” – so far removed from God that there is no way that in our condition we have value to Him or the ability to connect to Him. Truthfully, though, this is not the case whatsoever. We can attain holiness even in the darkest situations, as is shown by the following thought (shared by Mrs. M. K., founder of an organization for families dealing with crisis). Parshas Achrei Mos (Vayikra:16) discusses two very similar goats which are brought in the Beis Hamikdosh on Yom Kippur, the sa’ir l’Hashem and sa’ir l’azazel. Maseches Yuma (6:1) teaches that both must be of equal stature, same color, same height, and same value. As we all know, one goat has all the aveiros of Am Yisroel so to speak ‘dumped on it’s back’ after which it is ‘simply’ sent to be thrown off a cliff while the other goat has a special service in which it’s brought as a korban. Yet strikingly, both goats are described as “lifnei Hashem” standing “before Hashem”. The question begs to be asked, while the sa’ir L’Hashem appears to be from the awesome-most parts of the avoda, sacrificed on the holiest day of the year and in the holiest place in the world the kodesh kadashim, the sa’ir l’azazel seems to play a very lowly, mundane, unexceptional role. How can the two goats both be described with equal terminology as “in front of Hashem?!” An incident from Na”ch can perhaps shed some light on this. Sefer Melachim Alef (chap 18)   recounts the story of Eliyahu Hanavi proposing a challenge to Nevi’ay HaBa’al to prove the validity of God. Eliyahu offered them a contest in which each would sacrifice a cow to their respective venues of worship, and whichever carcass a fire comes down from heaven to consume would be proven to be the authentic religion. The Medrash (Bamidbar Rabba 23:9) relates that two cows were chosen, twins, similar to each other – a resemblance to the two aforementioned goats from Yom Kippur. But the cow which was meant to be brought by the Ba’al worshipers wasn’t interested – it wouldn’t budge, complaining to Eliyahu Hanavi, “Both of us cows came from the same mother, grazed the same grass, drank from the same trough … why should I have to be defiled by being brought before an impure avoda zora?” The venerated prophet Eliyahu responded, regardless of your circumstances, even while you are in the grasp of the forces of the degenerate Ba’al, you can still bring about a kiddush Hashem. When no fire comes down by Ba’al to consume your carcass, it will prove that Hashem is the real God. An eye-opening lesson! Any person, no matter who they are, what challenges they face, or how low they fall – they can feel as if they are figuratively being sacrificed to avoda zara Ba’al! – yet they are still close to Hashem! Whether in the Kodesh Kadashim like the sair laHashem, or seemingly on the lowest level like sair l’azazel, every single person remains lifnei Hashem with the doors to spirituality open wide in front of them.

HASHEM’S MOST PRIZED AVODA – FROM A BROKEN HEART

by Dov Razel

The following story (written by Shimon Breitkopf in Mishpacha Magazine May 16, 2018 in the ‘Impressions’ column) provides a breath of clarity continuing with the theme discussed in this issue: There was a bochur in yeshiva named Dovid who was a great learner and growing tremendously, every parents’ dream. On the side, he was a talented musician and artist and during breaks from his learning he would play guitar or draw sketches of his friends, on a notepad which he kept in a closet in his room. Dovid’s birthday was on Shavuos, and each year when the holiday came around it had special meaning. On Shavuos night instead of learning in yeshiva he would stay home and learn with his father, which brought great pride to himself and his parents. Everything was going well for Dovid, aside from one Rebbe in the yeshiva. Any chance this rebbe had, he would rebuke the bochur sometimes subjecting him to withering criticism that pierced his self-esteem – which Dovid would try to ignore. On the year of Dovid’s 17^th birthday, as in the past, he spent Shavuos night learning together with his father at home. The next morning this Rebbe was waiting for him, demanding to know why he wasn’t in yeshiva learning with everyone else at night. Dovid explained that every year he learnt at home and the yeshiva never had a problem with it. Nevertheless, the Rabbi blew up at him, criticizing him for being absent. The next day there was a tumult as the yeshiva administration had decided to go through all the closets in the dorms. A “shmuess” was given later that day in front of the entire yeshiva, by none other than that Rebbe himself. He declared that they had find out the most terrible thing, there was a student who was a worthless good for nothing, wasting away his time making drawings instead of learning, who clearly decided that learning Shavuos night was not important. As these words seeped in, Dovid’s head began to spin – he felt like he’d just been murdered. In utter shock, he escaped from the yeshivah building to his home, completely crushed. All he could do was sob and cry. After his parents found out what happened they were furious. His father ran to the yeshiva to confront the Rabbi but was given meaningless excuses; anyways, by then the damage had already been done. Dovid sat at home all day, a boy who’s hopes, who’s very self worth, was shattered in the most humiliating manner. For four long years throughout which eventually he disconnected from his family, trying out different institutions, Dovid suffered, remaining a shell of his former self. He had no family, no Torah, no davening, and no emunah. Eventually he made a few friends and rented an apartment together. To support himself, he spent his days sitting on the boardwalk, letting his hair grow wild, offering to entertain passersby with his talents. Every so often his mother would reach out to him and beg him to come home, but he always politely refused, not wanting to cause his parents pain. One day, he was sitting on the boardwalk when suddenly he looked up and saw a man standing in front of him – similar to Dovid, he was toting a guitar with a head of long hair, albeit with a small kippah perched on top. “How are you?” the man asked, and with that greeting, he felt they’d been friends for years. At that point something snapped — all the defensive walls Dovid so carefully constructed came tumbling down. Soon he found himself telling his newfound friend the story of his life. When Dovid finally finished, the man said to him “Your pain reaches the throne of Hashem Himself! Shavuos is approaching when we read Megillas Rus. Why? He explained, there are two different types of Jews — ‘Matan Torah Jews’ and ‘Megillas Rus Jews.’ A Matan Torah Jew lives on a very high level, able to learn day and night without going through many challenges. But there is a Megillas Rus Jew, someone who struggled and didn’t necessarily fit in. Mashiach comes from Rus, because Rus taught that the greatest achievements come after a person has been pushed away.” Looking Dovid in the eye while taking his leave, the man told him, “When a yid has gone through the difficulties that you had, they’ve been given the opportunity to become a more genuine Jew.” For several days after this, Dovid reviewed the encounter in his mind over and over. He made a decision: “I will become a Megillas Rus Jew, I will grab this opportunity to start again.” He organized his affairs, took a haircut, purchased new clothes and two weeks later, Dovid was once again sitting in his parents’ home at the table Shavuos night, learning together with his father!  What a penetrating story. Very sadly, it happens that a person can be pushed away by extremely misguided individuals who may even be in positions of stature and sport long beards. Or in various instances someone may find themselves feeling unloved by society, like an outcast, due to personal experiences they have gone through. A yid like that in many ways can become even closer to Hashem and is much more valued in His eyes. Life may have taken you on a different route than those around you through no fault of your own, yet no matter what far corner of the earth you may feel like you are in, God’s love and the path towards His holiness is right there next to you, always.

Yes YOU! Have Potential!

By Shmuel Tzvi Adler

A young boy in Israel, let’s call Chaim, was in elementary school and had trouble sitting still during class. Recognizing that he was a good kid, his Rebbe would try to send him on errands throughout the day to keep him out of trouble. This arrangement was working out well until alas, the day came when Chaim’s Rebbe got seriously sick, and was unable to teach anymore. The replacement Rebbe, Rabbi Kahane, (fictious name) was of the old-school mentality, and struggled to relate with a boy who couldn’t strictly follow the rules. Soon enough the new Rebbe was constantly becoming annoyed with the students’ jumpiness. Chaim found himself being sent out of class more and more. One time the Rebbe got really upset and called Chaim’s parents in middle of the day to meet them at the principal’s office. In front of parents and principal, the Rebbe looked at Chaim angrily and declared “You will never amount to anything with your life, you don’t know how to use your head.” The painful words seared a deep hole into Chaim’s heart. Days and weeks went by, and ever so slowly Chaim pulled himself together. After making it through elementary school, he continued on to yeshiva where thankfully he was able to do well, recognized for his attributes of chesed and caring about others, which shone forth. Eventually Chaim graduated yeshiva and grew old enough to start dating. Throughout this all, the painful ringing of the thoughtless words uttered by that Rebbe all those years ago could never entirely leave him.  He found a girl who appreciated him for the strong qualities he had developed and they got married. Chaim was able to get job where he put his talents to good use, and at one point he decided to join the national ambulance corp., Magen David Edom. His gigantic heart and abundance of energy stood by his side, gradually becoming famed as from the most qualified emergency responders on the team. If there was an emergency, everyone knew Chaim would be the first to arrive. One day he was on his way home looking forward to a good rest when a call came over the air – an old man had passed out and needed help. The location was far away, and the thought entered Chaim’s head how exhausted he was, and that anyways someone closer would respond; but then another voice chimed in that the other guys who received the call no doubt were saying the same thing. With that, Chaim turned his motorcycle around and raced across town. Upon arriving, he entered a house to find the old man slumped down in serious cardiac arrest. Indeed, he was the only responder there. Chaim immediately began performing CPR. While alternating between manual breaths and chest compressions, gradually other team members arrived and joined him in the fight to save the man’s life. Even once his buddies came, Chaim did not leave the man’s side. True to his name, he used every last ounce of energy he had within him to try and save this other yid. But after a few minutes there was still no heart beat. Once a certain amount of time passes with no oxygen reaching the brain a human being cannot survive, and the crew members realized that this stage had already passed. They tried telling Chaim that it is over, tragic as it is, he should stop CPR, but Chaim ignored them. The team thought he had lost his mind, perhaps trauma from all the many calls he had rushed to. But no matter what they said, he didn’t stop. Deep inside, Chaim knew that the logic in his head was no longer dictating his actions; he was just following his heart. And then a miracle happened. “I feel a pulse!”, he yelled out to the guys nearby. It was faint, but a pulse it was. Not willing to give in, Chaim had saved the old mans life! A few weeks later Chaim’s phone rang. It was the old man, calling to thank him and to invite him to a seudas hoda’a the family was making. Chaim couldn’t say no. Arriving at the home, he saw a huge family, children, grandchildren, all so appreciative of his heroism, and they sat him down at the head of the table. Looking at the old man, Chaim felt he recognized that face from somewhere. And then it him like a ton of bricks. He requested to have a private moment with the man; of course, the family agreed. Closing the door of a side room behind him, the old man started again thanking him profusely. Chaim humbly accepted the thanks and then asked the old man, “Do you recognize me?” “No”, said the man. He took a closer look, but couldn’t recall. For the first time Chaim addressed the man by his name. Softly, he said, “Rabbi Kahane, my name is Chaim, do you remember many years ago that boy in your class who couldn’t sit still?” As recognition dawned on Rabbi Kahane, his face turned white; Chaim quickly grabbed him, insisting he totally forgave him, and as the old man regained his composure, tears began streaming down both of their faces. Returning to the head of the table, an emotional Rabbi Kahane addressed the entire assemblage gathered there, and declared, “You all know that Chaim is a hero who saved my life; but I want to add some background.” After sharing the story, Rabbi Kahane continued, “When Chaim was that young student in the principal’s office, I told him he will never amount to anything with his life – because he doesn’t know how to use his head. Well, that is exactly how my life was saved – because Chaim refused to use his head, instead following his heart and continuing CPR until he finally brought me back to life. That is a real hero!” . . . Everyone has potential! All of us are blessed with our very own personal strong qualities. It is not the exact strengths we have which matters, rather that whatever they may be – we use them as best as we can to serve Hashem. Then, in God’s eyes, we are real heroes!!