Short Break

Off to Uman; see you in a week or so b'ezras Hashem. (That is next year!)
Kesivah v'chasimah tovah!

The Two Edged Sword of Azamra

The Likutei Halachos zt”l brings the Medrash about the red heifer, “Let the mother come and clean up after her child.” The child of the heifer is the golden calf, the paradigm of willful sin, and the cleansing from the impurity of death symbolizes the internal cleansing of teshuvah. This is achieved by focusing on our good points and returning to our real identity, which makes the negative fall aside. Just as the red heifer is completely unblemished, the good within us is absolutely unsoiled by whatever bad we may have done.
But this focusing on the good is double-edged; like the ashes of the heifer, it can defile the pure even as it purifies the impure. Seeking out our own good points is appropriate for when we are feeling discouraged and far from Hashem, because it ensures that we won’t fall completely. However, when we are in a good state, such a focus can easily lead to arrogance. Knowing when to focus on the good in ourselves and when to focus on how far we have to go is a great challenge. Perhaps this is what Shlomo Hamelech referred to when he said that although he had tried to understand it, the mystery of the red heifer remained, “far from me.”
One Motzei Shabbos, during Elul, Rav Isser Zalman Meltzer zt”l spoke in his Yeshivah, the famous Yeshivas Etz Chaim. When they heard his moving words, his listeners could not help but cry along with him.
“When a Sefer Torah is found to be pasul, the law is that we put a belt on its outside so that everyone will know that it invalid. This will keep people from reading from it, because to do so would be a sin.”
At this point the Rav himself burst into tears. “Since this is the case, who knows how many belts I need to bind around myself, so that people will know that I am pasul? How will they otherwise be warned away from learning from me?!”

Likutei Halachos on Teshuvah

The Talmud tells us that a convert is like a newborn.
The Likutei Halachos learns a very powerfully encouraging lesson from this. A convert has to sincerely want to become a Jew and immerse in the mikveh. A male convert must also become circumcised. After going through these processes, the male or female convert is like a newborn baby. But have they come to some sort of perfection through this process? Does immersion or circumcision automatically erase their character defects? Not by a long shot! Even so, the fact that they have acted on a genuine desire to become Jewish is transformative. Although this desire alone is not enough, one who doesn’t have it is not accepted as a convert. We must be assured of the purity of his intentions. From this we can learn the preciousness of one who keeps trying to be a good Jew and do the right thing even if he falls. Surely he is much more of a newborn than a convert since he has continued to yearn to move forward many hundreds of times!
We can also learn this from teshuvah. Even if one regrets his sins and wishes to improve on the last day of his life, his repentance is accepted. How much more precious is one who does teshuvah many hundreds of times! And one who repents every day is even more laudable. The main thing is to keep yearning to be better until we merit the help from Above that we need.

Teshuvah

One time a chossid of the Karliner Rebbi zt”l complained bitterly to his Rebbe: “All my fellow chassidim seem to be making great progress, while I feel as though I’m not really getting anywhere!”
The Rebbe responded, “Sadly enough, I can’t find the right key to open your heart.”
The chossid, besides himself, cried out, “What need is there for a key? Break it open with an axe if that’s what it takes!”
“There is no longer any need even to find a key,” the Rebbe smiled. “Your heart is already open!"

“I Will Sin, and I Will Repent Later...”

Anyone who says that he will sin now and take advantage of his ability to repent later is prevented from doing teshuvah later. The Lev Eliyahu zt”l explains that this is not so much a segulah as it is a result of human nature. Since sin pollutes the soul and dulls its holy sensibility, the person who sins is not in the same state that he was before his sin. Beforehand, he had enough sensibility to know that what he was about to do demands repentance. Afterward, the sin affects him so that he no longer has the same resolve to repent. If before he indulged he failed to control himself, how can he possibly manage it now that his heart is blocked?
On the very last erev Yom HaKippurim of his life, a group of bochurim came to visit the Chazon Ish zt”l. One of the boys asked the gadol, “On Yom Kippur everyone does teshuvah, but didn’t we repent of the same flaws last year already? If we persisted in the sins that we repented of last year, and if it is likely that we’re going to fall into the same temptations again this year, doesn’t this coming teshuvah of Yom Kippur make us like someone who says, ‘I will sin and Yom Kippur will atone for me?’”
The Chazon Ish responded with a question of his own. “Why did Hashem create man with innate weaknesses? He did it for this very reason; that he will sin and repent, and sin again and repent again. This cannot be compared to a person who eases his guilty conscience by resolving to repent later on for a sin he is about to do. On Yom Kippur, we really do want to repent fully, and we sincerely take upon ourselves to change our ways. The one mentioned in the gemara who says that he will sin and will repent later does not really want to repent at all.”

Making Time

The Chofetz Chaim told the following story:
Once there was a shopkeeper who was very successful and made a fortune off of the people of his city and the surrounding environs. Virtually every waking minute was taken up with work. Not only did he lack time to learn one word of Torah, this gentleman didn’t even have enough time to daven. Since he worked until late at night it was hard for him to get up on time in the morning; he invariably arrived at shul around the time of Borchu. Of course, since he always needed to rush to his business, he would leave davening early and never remained until Aleinu.
When this businessman grew older he started to notice that his hair was turning grey. The shock of his own encroaching mortality inspired him to make a rigorous cheshbon hanefesh. “One day it will be time to leave the world and I will be required to give an exact accounting for every action. All the money in the world will surely be worthless then…”
He decided that from that day on he would have a daily seder of several hours after davening no matter what. The very next day he went to bed early, got up on time, and for the first time in years arrived on time for a weekday davening. He stayed until the end and began learning with great enthusiasm.
Meanwhile, his partner wondered why this man, always so regular in the past, did not come to help the moment the store opened at 7:00 AM. When he finally arrived a little after ten, his partner was a little annoyed with him. “Where were you?” blurted the partner.
“I couldn’t make it on time today,” he replied vaguely.
The next day the partner in the store anxiously awaited the reformed businessman, but to no avail. After an hour he decided to search for the twice tardy man. When he finally found him in shul he was furious, but decided to wait for him to complete his seder before exploding. He returned to the store.
At 10:00 AM, when this man finally completed his few hours of learning and arrived at the store, his partner virtually pounced on him. “Are you crazy? The store is filled with customers. I simply cannot manage alone and you sit and learn? As you know we don’t really need the money but not having enough salesmen is like tossing our valuable customers out the door...”
The partner who had done teshuvah did not mince words. “Listen carefully. What would you have done if the malach hamaves had come for me? Would you also insist that I simply may not die because our store is filled with customers? So I want you to imagine that, during those first three hours of business in the morning, I have left the world. Why should it bother you if after a couple of hours I am revived from the dead and come to help out in our store?”
“This is the meaning of the gemara in Gittin 57,” the Chofetz Chaim concluded. “Words of Torah only remain with someone who kills himself for them. This means he never misses his regular times to learn because he acts as though he has already left the world— then all excuses that he has no time no longer apply!”

The Ten Days of Teshuvah and Eating with Holiness

The Tikunei Zohar states that each of the nine vowels symbolizes a different sefirah, a different mode of Divine expression, but the sefirah of malchus is likened to a letter without a vowel. This is the unarticulated yearning to draw close to Hashem. These “vowel-less letters” of our innermost desires are inscribed on Rosh Hashanah, the first day of the year. During the remaining nine days of repentance, we focus on the greatness of our Creator and His love for us, and this helps us to breathe life into those letters and articulate our desire to return to Hashem. Yom HaKippurim represents the sefirah of Kesser, the “crown,” and embodies the inner nature of the vowel komatz—the awareness of how precious is it to be close to Hashem, and the deep pain of the sins that distance us from Him. On that day, we are inspired to verbally express all of our longing for repentance, and this brings about the forgiveness of all sin.
Since physical and spiritual pleasures are opposites, we arouse the inner state of spiritual longing by refraining from the five main categories of physical pleasure. The five inuyim parallel the five areas that serve as the channels for speech—the tongue, the lips, the teeth, the palate, and the throat. What is clear is that all year long, these five zones are either devoted to the service of Hashem, or are drafted for the purpose of physical gratification.
Rav Chayim Cohen zt”l once asked the Chazon Ish zt”l, “How can I overcome my ta’avas achilah so that I will not even feel the physical taste of the food that I eat?”
The Chazon Ish answered, “I cannot offer you any advice about how to achieve this. However, I can tell you one thing. You are only preoccupied with something until you have an even greater thing to marvel over. As soon as the stronger emotional stimulus enters your being, the lesser one ceases. When a person feels genuine delight in Torah, he cannot really notice his food.”
The Chazon Ish concluded, “I don’t believe that the K’tzos HaChoshen zt”l even tasted his little piece of kugel!”

Learning to Blow Shofar

Once, before Rosh Hashanah, the Chozeh of Lublin, zt”l, ordered all baalei tokei’a to come see him. It was time to decide who would blow the shofar that year and to instruct him in the deep significance of this holy mitzvah.
Rav Simchah Bunim of Peshischa, zt”l, joined the group of hopefuls even though he had no training and couldn’t blow the shofar.
When the Chozeh saw him he was very glad. He said, “In Rosh Hashanah 29b we find that blowing shofar is a chochmah, wisdom. Rav Bunim is a chacham, wise man, so he should blow shofar for us.”
The two met privately and the Chozeh taught him all the kavanos, the mystical intentions, of blowing shofar. At the end of their last session, the Chozeh offered a shofar to Rav Simchah Bunim saying, “Take a shofar to be mechaven with.”
Rav Simchah Bunim demurred, “But I don’t know how to blow.”
The Chozeh got angry with him. Rav Bunim really was a chacham. He said, “How can the Rebbe be angry with me? I learned this hanhagah from Moshe Rabbeinu. First, Moshe said to Hashem, ‘What will I tell them if they ask me Your name?’ After Hashem answered, Moshe Rabbeinu said, ‘I am not a man of words,’ and asked Hashem to send someone else!”
The Chozeh looked at him in a marked manner and said, “How can you compare yourself with Moshe Rabbeinu?”
Rav Bunim shot back, “The Rebbe is also not Hashem…”
When Rav Shamai Ginzberg, zt”l, told this story over he said, “Although this seems a difficult ma’aseh to understand on the face of it, there is a source for it in Yevamos 105b: When Rabbi Yishmael arrived in the beis medrash of Rav Yehudah HaNasi as a disciple, he said, “…I am Yishmael b’Rebbi Yossi, and I have come to learn Torah from Rabbeinu HaKadosh.”
Avdan asked him, “Are you worthy to learn Torah from Rebbi?”
Rabbi Yishmael answered, “Was Moshe worthy to learn Torah from Hashem himself?”
“Are you Moshe?” was Avdan’s immediate response.
Rabbi Yishmael shot back, “Do you think Rebbi is Hashem?”

Bringing the Redemption

Every year between Rosh Chodesh Elul and Sukkos, three distinguished chassidim would stay with Rav Sinai of Zmarmrad, zt”l.
They didn’t waste a second of their time and would learn with tremendous intensity the entire night and most of the day. They would fast until midday every day, and all day long on Mondays and Thursdays. The group spent much time in heartfelt prayer and each man worked to refine his character and come closer to his Creator.
Once, the eldest chassid said to the Rebbe, “If I may ask, were there greater avodos then what we are doing right here in exile when the Beis Hamikdash stood?” (He meant could it be that anything else needs to be improved upon to bring the final redemption?)
The Rebbe replied, “Do you think that when the Beis Hamikdash stood people only excelled in their learning and davening? The main thing when the Beis Hamikdash stood was the joy of the mitzvos, and this attitude would naturally lead people to help those less fortunate then themselves. People would feed the poor and help them to rejoice. They were not only concerned with their own spiritual growth; they were concerned for those less fortunate!”
When the Rebbe’s son would tell this story, he would add, “...My father was telling his chassidim that they were far indeed from bringing the ultimate redemption!”

A Few Grapes

Rav Eliezer Don Ralbag, zt”l, once passed by the home of the tzadekes Savta Elka of the Old City on his way to selichos and heard her weeping. “How could my sweet grandson, who was always such a good student, suddenly lose his ability to understand the gemara?”
Since Rav Eliezer Don held a ta’anis dibbur from Rosh Chodesh Elul until after Yom Kippur, he knocked softly and handed her a note. “I will look into the matter.” Savta Elka immediately felt relief; she knew that she could rely on the Rav.
Unfortunately, Rav Eliezer Don forgot his promise, and it wasn’t until Yom Kippur that he remembered. As soon as the fast ended, he rushed to the Talmud Torah and spoke with the boy’s rebbi, who explained that although the boy could remember his learning, he had almost no comprehension for months. Rav Eliezer Don then went to the boy and asked, “Son, tell me what you know about the Savta’s cries.”
Thinking that the Rosh Yeshiva was referring to the sugya of that name in Sukkah, the boy began to recite it by heart.
Moved to tears, Rav Eliezer Don kissed the boy on his head and said, “I see what a wonderful boy you are. Now tell me why your rebbi says that you are not the student you were.”
At this, the boy began to cry. “I have been davening but my prayers go unanswered. I don’t know!”
“Tell me about your day,” the Rav pressed.
The boy related his schedule and added, “After cheder, I go to a neighbor’s house to play with the small children. Their father always gives me a bunch of grapes for babysitting, because his brother has a vineyard.” Such grapes were quite a luxury.
Despite the late hour, Rav Eliezer Don sent for the neighbor. To soothe him, the Rav opened with a bracha for the coming year. He then asked about the man’s brother.
“He is unfortunately not so observant, but he has come closer to yiddishkeit during the past year.”
Rav Eliezer Don asked, “And what about terumos and ma’aseros?”

Spirit of the Law: Rosh Hashanah II

Kitzur Shulchan Aruch, chapter 129:2 “On Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, during Shemoneh Esrei (the silent prayer), there are those who remain bent over in a bowing position from beginning to end.
Although they are stooped the entire time, they must nevertheless stand erect before and after the four points in the tefillah where one is obligated to bow. This serves to distinguish between bowing which is obligatory and that which is not.”

Reb Nosson explains that when we bow at the four points of our obligation, we transform our spiritual descents into ascents. The act of bowing physically comprises first a fall, followed by a conscious recouping of stature.
In prayer, we accomplish this by subduing our egos and admitting that we need help—by prostrating ourselves physically and spiritually before Hashem. After the fall, Hashem helps us to rise up once again.
The places in the Shemoneh Esrei where we bow are seminal points in the tefillah; we are instructed to bow at precisely these moments so that we can receive the supernal illuminations sent down by Hashem at exactly those points in the prayer.
One who fulfills his duty and bows with the express purpose of transforming his “falls” into ascents merits a new level of spiritual awareness, the direct result of the spiritual light he receives at those times.
Why do we bow? To demonstrate that we are willing to go to any lengths to become more fulfilled human beings with a true spiritual connection to Hashem and His will. We do it even if this demands the ultimate nullification of our selves—manifest by bowing down before Him.
It is now clear why a sharp distinction must be made between the four obligatory bows, and any optional bowing.

parshas Ki Teitzei and Hakoras Hatov

Since Rav Wolbe, zt”l, was committed to giving mussar shmuessen throughout the month of Elul in many different yeshivos, he used to take time to personally prepare for the Yomim Noraim during Av. Elul itself was naturally very busy, and so Rav Wolbe rarely had time to respond to late-summer queries in writing until after the Yomim Noraim altogether. Many of those responses open with Rav Wolbe’s profuse apologies for the delay, but we have an interesting letter on record that serves as an enlightening exception.
A certain man who had provided Rav Wolbe with assistance while the Rav was living abroad received his response during Elul itself. Since the letter offered an opportunity for Rav Wolbe to express his gratitude, there was no possibility of delaying a warm and effusive response. He wrote, “…My heart compels me to write these few lines to you as the Yomim Noraim approach. My dear friend! I will not soon forget the friendship and dedication you showed me when I was with you. May Hashem pay you back in full!
“The aliyah of the day is the fourth of parshas Ki Teitzei where we find the laws of conversion. I was very inspired that the entire difference between an Amonite, a Moabite, an Edomite, and an Egyptian is only in how much hakaras hatov they had toward us and how much gratitude we must have toward them. We know that the nations of Amon and Moav who did not show their appreciation for Avraham Avinu’s rescue of their forefather are to be forever kept at a distance (see Ramban). Although the Egyptians drowned our children, they did harbor us in an emergency, and so they may marry into the Jewish people after the third generation. And even though Eisav went out to greet us with the sword, his progeny are permitted immediately because he is our brother! How wondrous it is to contemplate the far-reaching consequences of showing gratitude!”
Rav Wolbe closed the letter: “From your friend who loves you and is grateful to you for the rest of his life!”

Spirit of the Law: Rosh Hashanah I

Kitzur Shulchan Aruch, Chapter 129:1. “In every Kaddish said between Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur, l’eilah (the phrase that begins with the word ‘above’) is said twice (l’eilah u’l’eilah).”
The Talmud states that Hashem created the world with ten utterances. Nine of these are direct utterances. (“And G-d said: Let there be light... And G-d said: Let there be a firmament...”) The first utterance, however, is indirect. This “hidden” utterance comprises the first words of the Torah: “In the beginning Hashem created….” The first “utterance” does not include any clear indication of Hashem speaking at all. Rebbe Nachman, ztz”l, revealed that this hidden utterance is no less than the underlying fabric of the universe.
The fact is that Hashem’s presence is immanent within creation. Creation’s apparent lack of direct connection with Hashem is only due to His having hidden the real fabric of the universe. When we see how distant we are in any given situation, and search for Hashem from wherever we are with a heartfelt, “Where are You—Ayeh?” we tap into the true fabric of the universe which is actually an emanation from Hashem. Although this is hidden on the surface, it only takes heartfelt searching to tear down the many barriers that block spiritual connection. This ma’amar sasum, this “hidden utterance,” is revealed when we search for Hashem no mater how distant we are from Him.
By saying “l’eilah min kol birchasa vishirasa” in Kaddish, and especially when we say the double,“l’eilah u’l’eilah” during the ten days of Repentance, we activate this potent spiritual tool. The statement, “Hashem is above all blessing and song,” is an expression of our deep understanding that Hashem is the only reality. What we see here in this world is really only an external manifestation of the Divine. The purpose of everything is to draw closer to Hashem, even when we are in the place that seems furthest from Him. Even in such a place, one can be close to Hashem merely by searching for Him. Seeking Him—in whatever we do—is the best way to leave the distant places of bad character traits and the spiritual morasses in which most of us find ourselves.
Since this search for the Divine from wherever I may be is the root of all teshuvah, we say l’eilah u-l’eilah during the Ten Days of Repentance. To merit true repentance and forgiveness, we must redouble our efforts to search for the Divine root of everything at this time especially.
The Shaarei Teshuvah writes that a person is given the opportunity to do teshuvah at all times, but all the more so during the month of Elul and the Ten Days of Repentance. Someone who doesn’t take advantage of the opportunity to escape from the confines of his own sins is like a prisoner whose cell walls were breached by his fellow inmates during the night. Everyone escaped through the tunnel—except the one who foolishly failed to grab his chance while it lasted. When the jailer enters in the morning and sees that one prisoner who didn’t bother to escape, he is so angry he beats him brutally. This prisoner clearly doesn’t understand the gravity of his situation; the conditions in his cell are so inhumane, his chances of long-term survival are minute. Here he had an opportunity to save his life by making a clean getaway and he didn’t bother!
Although we aren’t worthy of the privilege that the reprieve of repentance offers, we must nevertheless take full advantage of it. True repentance frees us from worry and anguish, the inevitable results of sin. Reb Nosson of Breslov, ztz”l, explains the verse, “I will worry because of my sins,” to mean that all worry and depression are direct results of sin. If we are truly appreciate that it is never too late and we can rectify our relationship with Hashem merely by searching for Him, why should we stay worried? The tunnel to exit the prison of our sins is always accessible. We just need to do a proper and balanced teshuvah to leave the prison of anguish and slowly enter the realm of true joy.
Reb Nosson explains that the search for Hashem from wherever we may have fallen is expressed in the cry of the shofar—a blast of pure pain and yearning that is so raw it requires no words. This is also how Reb Nosson describes the heartfelt prayers of the yomim nora’im, the “Days of Awe.” There is an essential character of searching to all of the prayers of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, since seeking Hashem despite what I may have done is the foundation of prayer.
One the one hand, the Jewish people cries out to Hashem, “Return us, Hashem and we will return.” On the other, Hashem responds, “Return to Me and I will return to you.” These two demands seem incompatible. How are we to accomplish reconciliation with Hashem if each “party” insists on the other first expressing regret? But Reb Nosson explains that there is no contradiction. Hashem wants us to return to Him by searching for Him no matter how far we have fallen spiritually. When we cry out to Him, “Return us, Hashem, and we will return to You,” we are actually fulfilling Hashem’s “precondition” that is found in the second verse. We return to Him through searching for Him with heartfelt prayer, and such prayer really comes down to only one word: “Ayeh!” “Where are You? Return us, Hashem, and we will return! We have grown distant from You. Please take us back and bring us closer to You.” This is the true path of repentance.
Reb Nosson writes that we haven’t been redeemed in the course of our long exile because we simply don’t believe that there’s no such thing as despair. If the Jewish people had internalized this message and continued to search for Hashem as hard as they could, no matter how far they had fallen, we would have been redeemed long ago!

A Mitzvah with Mesiras Nefesh

Rav Eliezer Rokeach, zt”l, the Rav of Amsterdam, decided to move to Eretz Yisroel and booked passage on a ship that sailed toward the end of the month of Elul. On the first night of Rosh HaShanah, a gale blew up over the sea, and huge waves began to break over the side of the vessel. The storm grew worse as night drew on, and the small ship seemed doomed to never reach its destination. Water was already flooding the deck, and time was short.
The captain approached the holy man in a fearful state, pale and trembling. He begged, “Rabbi, our ship is about to break up and be swallowed by the depths. She cannot last in this wind much longer. Please, pray to your G-d to quiet the storm, because if He doesn’t, we are surely lost!”
Rav Eliezer heard the poor man’s pleas and asked, “Tell me, has the dawn broken yet?”
The ship’s officer answered, “Yes, a few minutes ago.”
Rav Eliezer took the shofar that he had brought with him and climbed out from the hold up to the deck. As soon as he verified that the dawn had indeed come, he immediately blew the shofar. Wonder of wonders! As soon as the sound blasted out into the dawn, the storm stopped and all was perfectly still. Sky and sea were completely becalmed.
The captain fell to the Rav’s feet, praising the G-d of the Jewish people and His faithful servants who saved them all from death at sea.
When recounting this story, the Rebbe of Peshischa, zt”l, would add, “Don’t think for a moment that the gaon would ever have exploited the precious mitzvah and wielded it like some kind of charm. G-d forbid! What happened was that as soon as the captain told him that the ship was about to go down, Rav Eliezer wanted to quickly grab one final mitzvah before dying. That was why he blew the shofar. And HaKadosh Boruch Hu saw his devotion to the mitzvos and repealed the death sentence!”

Tithing Oneself

The Beis Yisroel of Gur, zt”l, was in Kfar Ata on the 12th of Elul in 5716 (1956 according to the secular calendar) visiting with a community of his devoted followers there. Everyone sat together at a festive meal and the chassidim served many different varieties of fresh fruit in honor of the occasion. Since the produce of Eretz Yisroel must be carefully tithed before it can be consumed, a member of the group decided to eliminate all doubt in the minds of the rest of the group by declaring, “It has already been ma’asered and is fit to eat.”
The Gerrer Rebbe, famous for his incisive mind, shot back cryptically, “Every person must also ma’aser himself!”
Since the fruit was properly tithed and certainly didn’t need further tithing, no one understood what the Rebbe meant.
He explained, “We find in the opening mishnah of maseches Rosh Hashanah that the first of Elul is considered the new year regarding the tithing of one’s livestock. As we see on the daf, Rav Eliezer and Rav Shimon differ and hold to the opinion that the proper date is the first of Tishrei instead. The Noam Elimelech, zt”l, states that tithing represents fear of heaven. Seen from this perspective, the Tanna Kama is really saying that a person who wakes up to repent as late as Rosh Chodesh Elul is no better than a beast!”
The Rebbe went on, “Rav Elazar and Rav Shimon, on the other hand, maintain that one who starts repenting on Rosh Chodesh Elul is still within the category of a human being, however if he waits for Rosh Hashanah itself, he too is no better than a dumb animal! Rabbosai, we are in the middle of Elul and Rosh Hashanah is just around the corner. We must ma’aser ourselves and do teshuvah right away!”

Proper Tochachah: with Sensitivity

Rav Shmuel Huminer, zt”l, of Yerushalayim once noticed a very sincere ba’al teshuvah who was obviously proud of his long hair, which was then all the rage in the secular world. Rav Huminer offered to learn halacha with him so that he would know what to do. The two started a regular seder. When they got to the part that discusses that long hair is a chatzitza to tefilin, the young man was shocked. “My hair is a chatzitza?!” he exclaimed.
The next day he showed up to their seder with a short haircut.
One of Rav Huminer’s children asked him, “But why didn’t you just tell him that his hair is a chatzitza?”
The gadol answered, “I was afraid he would take it personally and be put off. When we learn it inside, it is clearly not personal and will not offend him.”
Of course, sometimes what is called for is to be strong. A well-known outreach Rabbi from Yerushalayim was once taking a walk with a fairly new student who sported a very long braid. During a pause in their heartfelt talk, the young man asked, “Rabbi, I get a lot of flak from people about my hair. But tell me the truth: what does Hashem really think of my hair?”
The Rabbi smiled and said, “Hashem? You really want to know what He thinks?”
“Yes, of course!”
The Rabbi shouted in a way that also conveyed humor, “He hates your hair! Cut off that braid!”
Fortunately, the Rabbi understood his talmid enough to know that the young man had merely been looking for a final push to adopt a more frum appearance! Caught once in a similar circumstance, Rav Huminer merely grabbed the young seeker by the sidelocks and cried joyfully, “Ah! Such beautiful peyos.” The young man understood on his own that the rest of it would have to go!

The Main Weapon is Prayer

Rebbe Nachman of Breslov, zt"l, teaches that our main weapon to overcome bad behaviors is prayer. This is why we daven extra during the month of Elul. Sincere prayer is the most powerful way to rectify our sins.
Rav Tzvi Hirsch Zaks, zt”l, recounted that one of the students of his grandfather, the illustrious Chofetz Chaim, zt”l, noticed that his Rebbe would often slip out of his house every night after midnight, enter a shul, and remain there for many hours. This student burned with curiosity: what could his Rebbe be doing alone in the shul? Learning? Surely he could do that at home. His mind abounded with possibilities… Tikkun chatzos? Perhaps he was davening heartfelt prayers for the sick and unfortunate?
Finally he could no longer stand the pressure of his curiosity and he hatched a plan to find out what the Chofetz Chaim was actually doing after midnight alone in the shul. He entered the women’s section of the shul somewhat before midnight so he would be able to observe the area easily. He would be unnoticeable, but would surely see and hear everything that the Chofetz Chaim did.
Around midnight, the Chofetz Chaim entered the shul, proceeded to the front, and threw open the holy ark. He began to cry profusely. In a voice chocked with tears he cried, “Ribono Shel Olam! Yisroel Meir is a kohein and kohanim are easily angered. So please, Hashem, help me overcome my tendency to get angry…”
The Chofetz Chaim stood there for hours petitioning Hashem over and over again to protect him from anger—the cause of so much destruction and machlokes!
(Story from:שאל אביך ויגדך, חלק ג' ע' קס"ז)

Shalom Bayis and Elul

The Ramak, zt”l, writes that a sure sign that one is not relating properly to Hashem is if he has a dysfunctional relationship with his wife. All of our Gedolim honored their wives and went out of their way to help them.
When the Rebbetzin of Rav Shach, zt”l, was once ill, she expressed a very strong desire for watermelon. The Gadol (who was over seventy years old at the time,) did not hesitate for a moment. He quickly left their small apartment, went on foot to the local fruit store, and purchased a large watermelon, which he then carried himself. People walking down the street in Bnei Brak could hardly believe their eyes. The Rosh Yeshivah walking with a watermelon tucked beneath his arm only to gladden his wife!
The Rebbetzin enjoyed a certain Yiddish magazine which could only be purchased in a distant shop in Shikun Gimel, a neighborhood that was about two kilometers away from their apartment. Despite the distance, the Rosh Yeshivah would walk there every day to pick up the daily paper. Rain or shine, heat wave or frost, the Rosh Yeshiva did not miss a single day.
When a certain young girl offered to do this chore for him, he refused. “What do you think? Do you imagine I have so many mitzvos that I can afford to give out what little I have? If you want mitzvos, you will have to search for your own. There are definitely enough to go around, but my mitzvos you may not take under any circumstances!”
During Elul let us not forget to strengthen our shalom bayis; an essential component of all true closeness to Hashem!

Bilvavi Author's Schedule in the U.S now Available

I received the following email from my friend "Dixie Yid": B'Ezras Hashem, the author of the Bilvavi Mishkan Evneh seforim, Rav Itamar Shwartz,shlita, will be arriving in the United States next Sunday September 7th until the following Sunday, September 14th. He will be speaking in Boca Raton, FL, Manhattan, Baltimore, MD, Monsey, NY, Woodmere, NY for Shabbos, Five Towns/Far Rockaway, Northern New Jersey and Brooklyn. A full schedule can be viewed here
טעמו וראו

If Not Now, When?

Chazal exhort us to take advantage of the special accessibility to Hashem afforded us leading up to and during the aseres yimei teshuvah. Rav Chaim Brisker, zt”l, once explained this idea with a parable:
There was once a Polish town that lay close to the Russian border. Because of the constant skirmishes between the two countries, the border shifted several times. At one point, the border intervened between the town and its Jewish cemetery, and this caused great problems for the Jews. Every burial meant undergoing interrogation and cross-examination by the intransigent border guard.
The Jews appealed to the authorities, and managed to reach an agreement so that funeral processions would not be stopped as they crossed the border and the Jews could bury their dead without the indignity of delay. Some enterprising locals soon realized that this was a golden opportunity to smuggle contraband across the border. They dressed up as Jews, filled a coffin with illegal goods, and successfully carried it across. Delighted with their plan, they repeated it several times over the succeeding weeks.
One night, the border guard heard the merry sound of singing and laughing. Looking out from his hut, he spotted a group of “Jews” carrying a coffin towards the border. Suspicious, he stopped them and asked to see inside the coffin. The “Jews” refused to open it, saying, “Don’t we have an agreement that Jewish burial parties may pass?” The guard insisted, and discovered the contraband. Well aware of the deep trouble they had gotten themselves into, the smugglers all fell to their knees and began crying and pleading for mercy.
“Fools!” said the guard. “Had you cried before, you wouldn’t have to cry before me now!”
“Similarly,” concluded Rav Chaim, “When trouble descends on people in the middle of the year they cry and plead with Hashem. They don't realize that if they had cried during the auspicious time of Elul, and especially during the yomim noraim and aseres yimei teshuvah, they would not have had these troubles to begin with!”

Teshuvah and Elul

The Gemara teaches us that kings are judged prior to their subjects, and one reason for this is that the earlier one is judged the better. The later it gets, the angrier the Judge becomes, so to speak. The Toldos Adam, zt”l, says that the monarch of our Gemara refers to a righteous man who is compared to a king (Gittin 49). He works very hard to prepare himself for judgment, and starts long before the appointed day. Because he is more sensitive to the ramifications of being judged, he is prepared earlier, is judged earlier, and fares that much better for it!
Rav Chaim Solevetchik, zt”l, the Rav of Brisk, told a parable to illustrate this point.
“Once, a man wanted to smuggle some merchandise across the border. He met with a wagon driver who specialized in such operations and made all the necessary arrangements. Although there was time until the appointed day, the merchant was anxious from the first moment. His nerves were so bad, and his conscience so guilty, that he literally had to stop himself from looking over his shoulder for the long arm of the law even though, as yet, he hadn’t done anything illegal.
“The wagon driver was not disconcerted in the slightest. For him, it was all business as usual. Even so, when the day finally arrived to more the merchandise, he too was also petrified. He kept looking over his shoulder for anyone who might be guarding the little known path that he had chosen. He was startled by the slightest sound and was ready to bolt at any provocation.
Rav Chaim concluded: “The only ones who had a good trip were the horses!”
He explained, “Some start to tremble as soon as Elul begins because they realize that everything is at stake: life, health, livelihood, family, and peace of mind. Others are less sensitive, but they at least have the sense to feel some anxiety on Rosh Hashanah itself. Then there are those people who are as insensitive as the horses—their minds are focused on one thing only: the trough!”

The Rav and the Dishonest Collector

Chazal tell us that we really ought to appreciate false solicitors of charity. Were it not for them, we would be held accountable for turning away any person in serious need. Since there are some rogues who do prey on the well-intentioned, we are no longer duty-bound to assume that everyone we meet who asks for our assistance is actually in desperate need. The Rif, zt”l, on Ein Yaakov explains we express our appreciation to the phonies…by giving them charity!
The Satmar Rav, zt”l, gave a great deal of tzedakah. It was well known that if one really needed money, the Rav could be convinced to pay out huge sums. Once, a man came before him and told him a heartbreaking tale about how his wife was sick and his children were also ill in different, horrific ways.
The Rav was exceedingly moved. On the table was a small bag that held a huge sum that one of his wealthy Chasidim had left as a pidyon nefesh, together with a kvitl. The Rav, clearly in distress from hearing the man’s tale of woe, immediately thrust the bag of money into the poor man’s hand. The man tearfully thanked the Rav and raced from the room, presumably to rush home and tell his family that their money problems at least were over.
A few minutes after the man had left, the Rav’s gabbai ran in, obviously flustered, and exclaimed, “Where is the man who was dressed in such-and-such a way?” He was obviously referring to the man with the sob story.
The Satmar Rav replied, “He just left.”
“But Rebbe, we must find him! He is a faker, a phoney! How will we get the money back from him? Did the Rebbe give him a large sum of money?” Although the gabbai was frantic, the Rebbe suddenly seemed to relax again.
The Rebbe asked, “You mean that story wasn’t true? Boruch Hashem—at least no Jew is suffering that kind of agony!” exclaimed the Rebbe.

The Rebbe's Kindness

When the Ponevezh Yeshiva built its new building, Rav Kahanaman, zt”l, assumed debts of massive proportion on his shoulders. The only conceivable way to cover this was an extended trip to collect funds in America.
This was his first visit to America, and he was fairly unknown in the New World. Not surprisingly, although he collected for many months he didn’t make much headway at all. As the day of his departure drew near, he decided to bid the Kapischnitzer Rebbe farewell.
The Rebbe asked, “How much did you succeed in collecting?”
The Ponevezher Rav burst into tears and confided to the Rebbe that he had not succeeded in making a fraction of what he owed and didn’t know how he was going to deal with the crushing burden of debt that remained on his shoulders.
After the Rav dejectedly left, the Rebbe started making phone calls. An hour later he had $10,000 for the Rav. The Rebbe’s son who told this story was not sure if this vast sum of money was borrowed or donated.
In those years this was a veritable fortune. The Rebbe asked his son to accompany him to the home where Rav Kahanaman was staying to give over the money.
When the Rav saw the money he again burst into tears. “In all the many weary months I spent soliciting donations I didn’t make anywhere near this sum!”
The Ponevezher Rav once said, “If I were to turn into a chossid I have a ready-made Rebbe, the Rebbe of Kapischnitz!”

The Mistaken Messenger

Once, a fairly wealthy man was in the middle of davening with the minyan of the Kotzker Rebbe, zt”l, when a breathless messenger burst into the shul. He pounced upon the wealthy man and said, “I am sorry to have to tell you this, but there was a fire on the edge of town and your factory was burned to the ground!”
The factory was the wealthy man’s sole source of livelihood. Apparently, the blaze had dragged him down from riches to rags. Completely overwhelmed by grief, he fainted dead away. After a few minutes, his fellow worshipers managed to revive him. As soon as he regained consciousness and he realized that all his wealth was lost, he fainted yet again.
When he woke up for the second time, he again recalled his loss and seemed on the verge of losing consciousness once again. At that moment, the Kotzker Rebbe, zt”l, interjected. He reassured the prostrate man, “Don’t worry, your factory is intact.”
The wealthy felt bolstered by the Rebbe’s words and slowly seemed to come back to himself. Just then, a second messenger arrived. He burst into the shul and trumpeted, “What the first messenger reported was a mistake! Your factory is safe.”
The relieved man was astounded that the Rebbe had known the truth and asked him whether this was ruach hakodesh.
The Kotzker Rebbe replied, “No, it was nothing like that. I could see that the challenge was far too much for you to handle, so it wasn’t possible that the first messenger had told the truth.”
The Chidushei HaRim, zt”l, explained this concept further, “In Kesuvos 33b, we find that if Chananiah, Mishael, and Azarya had actually been subject to torture they would have indeed bowed to Nevuchadnezzar’s idol. Why does the Gemara record this apparently insulting hypothesis? Clearly the object is not to denigrate these great tzaddikim! Chazal shared this with us so that we would understand that these three were not subject to torture because Hashem knew they couldn’t overcome the trial of torture! We learn a very important lesson from our Gemara: Hashem doesn’t give us more than we can handle!”

You Must Really Make an Effort!

{When I first saw this story I was reminded of this post:http://asimplejew.blogspot.com/2008/06/two-pet-peeves.html)
Rav Shach, zt”l, said, “When one person asks another for help, often the person being asked says that he will ‘try.’ This expression is said automatically in an offhand manner and is not seen as assuming an obligation at all. Often people believe that making no more than the slightest effort on his friend’s behalf is sufficient. They think that agreeing to make an effort means any kind of effort or no effort, but this is incorrect…”
Rav Shach would use the following story to illustrate why:
A young man once approached Rav Eliyahu Kamai, zt”l, the Mirrrer Rosh Yeshivah and requested financial aid for a worthy cause.
“I cannot give you the entire sum that you need,” Rav Kamai replied. “I will give you…” and he named a generous sum.
The bochur was not satisfied, though. “Please give the full sum. If you cannot, at least agree to try to procure the remainder from another source.”
Rav Kamai completely refused this request.
The bouchur was confused. “But all I ask is that you try. Why refuse such a small request?”
Rav Kamai replied, “Do you know the meaning of saying ‘I will try?’ In Gittin 30 we find the case of one who gave his wife a conditional divorce which will only take effect if the condition is fulfilled, and said, ‘This divorce will take effect if I do not appease you within thirty days.’ Rav Yosef explains that even if he tried to appease her but she was not amenable, the divorce takes effect. Surely, if he had given her a chest full of coins or made other great efforts, she would have been appeased! We see that Chazal understood ‘making an effort’ to mean something very different than what most people intend today. Today, people believe that this is just an expression without true meaning, but this is inaccurate. In light of this, how can you ask me to make an effort? Who can say he has fulfilled his obligation to ‘try’?”
Hashem should help us mean what we way and say what we mean.

Israel is Like a Mirror...

Rav Yisroel of Ruzhin, zt”l, was known to be as sharp as a blade. He was a very pious and brilliant young man who amazed everyone who met him, from academic to Torah gaon to simple chassid.
Once, one of his Chasidim made the trip to Eretz Yisrael and visited with Rav Yisroel upon his return. When this chassid approached him, Rav Yisroel said, “Shalom Aleichem!” After the chasid responded as is customary, Rav Yisroel asked, “Nu, so how was it?”
The chassid, smart enough to realize that if he said one word against Eretz Yisrael, he would be in for a scathing rebuke, merely said, “Better I say nothing…”
“Do you know why we call ‘the Promised Land’ Eretz Yisrael?” asked the Rebbe.
“No,” replied the chassid.
“We call it Eretz Yisrael because every Jew who goes to this land sees the truth about himself. The land acts as a mirror reflecting his true spiritual status back at him. The reason you feel cold about Eretz Yisrael is not because that is the land’s true identity, since nothing could be further than the truth. You feel cold because you are spiritually apathetic! If a Jew who goes to Eretz Yisrael can’t find any good attribute which he can report, this bears a very telling witness about the true state of his spirituality!”

You Only Need to Do Your Best

Rav Zalman of Volozhin, zt”l, was a child prodigy. At fourteen he learned in the great beis medrash in Vilna, and was well known for his brilliance. Once, a certain man came to him and expressed a desire to say over a, “peirush tov on a Mishnah in Maseches D’mai.” Since the man, like so many Lithuanian Jews of that time, pronounced his shin as a sin, what he said sounded like, “peiros tov.”
The young Rav Zalman heard his visitor out, but he felt that the man’s interpretation was off. He felt a bit annoyed at having such bitter “peiros tov” thrust upon him, and he responded sharply after the man finished, “That isn’t peiros tov—it’s peiros d’mai!” Meaning, this is the awful “fruit” of the scholarship of an ignoramus.
As soon as the abashed man left, Rav Zalman was filled with remorse. How could he shame a fellow Jew who was talking in learning to the best of his ability? Even though they had spoken one on one and Rav Zalman hadn’t shamed him in public, there was no excuse for such behavior. He frantically started to search the town for the man to beg his forgiveness but to no avail. The man was nowhere to be found.
Rav Zalman searched for this man for well over a decade but still couldn’t find him. It was only with great difficulty that Rav Zalman’s son-in-law was able to stop him from undertaking a personal exile and taking up wandering throughout Lita so that he could admit his sin in every shul throughout the land in the hope of finding the wronged man.
When the Vilna Gaon heard about this, he summoned Rav Zalman to try and comfort and encourage him. The Gaon closed their conversation by saying, “You did everything you possibly could to find the wronged party and make amends. About just such a case the Chovos Halevavos writes in the tenth chapter of Sha’ar Hateshuvah, “If a person earnestly repents after having sinned against his friend bodily or monetarily, Hashem will cause a broad-mindedness and a love to enter his friend’s heart until he forgives him….”
Such was Rav Zalman’s faith in the Gaon, that although he certainly was already familiar with these words of the Chovos Halevavos, he was instantly comforted as soon as the Gaon uttered them!

How about Kibud Av?

Yitz asked an incisive question on my latest post: "What Will I Eat Tomorrow?"

"I have a lot of difficulty with the rationale of the punch line.

if you are really a baal bitachon, it's on HaShem's cheshbon...

isn't that the whole point?

if there is a cheshbon involved, why was his father not, not being a 'baal bitachon' on the chesbon of the other people less fortunate than himself?

how is he making a point that isn't challenging his father's point? as I assume he must be, out of kibud av."
My reply: "The answer is that bitachon is not so simple. Either you are achieving the level required or not, but it is exceedingly easy to fool yourself and immagine you are on the level when you are really not there at all. In this spirit Rav Nosson of Breslov said to his son, "I have enough bitachon for myself and my family but not for yours as well. You must work on your own bitachon."
Similarly, the Alter of Novardok would borrow money even when he didn't have any observable way to return it. When asked how he could do so, he explained that he was relying on bitachon. A thoughful man who was in debt asked him if he was also permitted to borrow money on his "bitachon account." The Alter's reply is very illuminating: "Only if you would lend that kind of money to someone who had absolutely no observable way to repay..."
The same is true regarding purchasing the needs of Shabbos with money one doesn't have (amd doesn't forsee is coming.) Although the gemara states that purchases for Shabbos etc. aren't deducted from the money designated for a person on Rosh Hashannah, The Chazon Ish and others explain that this is only true of someone who has bitachon...
The Birsker Rav's son didn't wish to certainly take away from his father's food and doubtfully bring in more for himself as a result of his bitachon (especially since it was a hard time.)
The question of why the Brisker Rav didnt act that way is not valid since different tzaddikim often take different paths. The Gemara even records that Shamai would save any unusual delicacies he encountered during the week for use on Shabbos while Hillel relied on bitachon...
His father wished to guide his son to work more on bitachon but the son had a different derech. One need not listen to his parent if he is drawn to a different path in Avodas Hashem just like he need not listen if his father insists that he learns in one yeshiva and he feels he will not do as well there as in another that his father doesn't like as much. (Interestingly, the Chazon Ish and Rav Shlomo Zalman Aurebach both said this regarding children drawn to Breslov whose parents objected.)
Thank you for your question. This is a very broad topic and there is much more to say about it but the above should suffice for now.

“What Will I Eat Tomorrow?”

It is hard for us in our comparatively wealthy society to imagine the destitution of Warsaw between the two World Wars. A debilitating shortage of food and the most basic amenities of life is something which virtually no one needs to deal with today outside of the third world. In Warsaw, people literally starved. A person who could afford to bring home enough bread for his family was considered very fortunate indeed. Understandably, most people would eat only the minimum of any food purchased so as to make their meager stores last as long as possible. Virtually no one knew where their next crust of bread would come from, literally.
Interestingly, the Brisker Rav, zt”l, would eat his fill and wouldn’t limit himself to save food from one day to the next. He constantly worked on bitachon and felt that leaving over was not appropriate for him. After all, in Sotah 48 Rabi Eliezer Hagadol proclaims that anyone who has bread in their basket yet asks, “What will we eat tomorrow?” has little faith.
In sharp contradistinction to the Brisker Rav completely eating his fill, his son, Rav Yosef Dov, zt”l, ate virtually nothing. The Brisker Rav could not chew the hard crusts of the breads. His son would eat only those and nothing else.
The Brisker Rav scolded him. “The only reason why we don’t have enough food for you too, is because you insist on eating only the crusts and not your full share of the bread. If you ate as much bread as you need, we would have enough for both of us.”
Rav Yosef Dov continued his practice of only eating the crusts however. Years later he explained, “I didn’t want to be a ba’al bitachon on my father’s cheshbon!”

The "Kilo" of Butter

Many years ago, in a small town outside of Israel, people lived quite harmoniously. The town had a Jewish baker, a Jewish dairyman, and so on. When the baker needed butter, which was often the case, he would go to the dairyman and purchase a kilogram block.
Once, when he purchased his usual measure of butter, he was struck that it seemed to be quite a bit lighter than a full kilo. The baker was very practiced at weighing amounts by feel since he needed to put the same amount of flour and water to produce equal breads of consistent quality every time he baked. The baker figured it was a fluke, however, and waited for his next purchase to see if the measure would be off again. On the following occasion, he was sure that he was being cheated. By the third time, the baker couldn’t control his anger and confronted the dairyman.
He accused, “I am paying you for a kilogram so why are you selling me much less? Maybe your scale is off.”
“This stick of butter is a kilo!” replied the indignant dairy seller. “If you think it’s less, then take me to a din Torah.”
Since the baker had plans to travel that very day to a nearby city where he would have access to a very accurate scale, he took the butter along and weighed it. What he saw infuriated him. The butter weighed precisely 800 grams.
The baker didn’t waste a moment. He hurried home and summoned the dairyman to a din Torah.
In front of the dayanim the baker intoned, “I weighed this butter on the accurate scale in the city. Although he claims it’s a kilo, it’s actually 800 grams.”
To the surprise of all, the dairy seller still denied it. “I will rush to bring the counterweight for my scales and your honors can see for yourselves if I perpetrate an injustice…”
When he reentered the court he held a loaf of bread in his hand. “I purchase this bread from our friend here every day. As everyone here knows, he claims it’s a kilogram loaf. If you place my butter against this bread on the scale you will see that the two are exactly even!”
The baker’s face turned beet red with embarrassment. How could he present a claim against the dairyman, when his “kilo loaf” weighed precisely 800 grams?

The Avodah of the Fifteenth of Av

A chossid once asked the Divrei Shmuel of Slonim, zt”l: “Why does the gemara in Taanis 26 state that there were no holidays like the fifteenth of Av and Yom Kippur? Why is the fifteenth of Av compared to Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the year? Also, why isn’t Yom Kippur mentioned first?”
The Rebbe explained, “This is hinting that the days of teshuva begin on the fifteenth of Av and extend all the way to Yom Kippur! As he famous saying goes: Av is an acronym that spells Elul bah, Elul is on its way. Anyone who can arouse themselves to repent during these days of mercy should do so. Anyone who can’t should at least do so by contemplating the merit of their righteous ancestors. This will also work well. However, someone who simply cannot arouse himself to teshuva on the fifteenth of Av should take a different hint from the gemara. It tells us that the custom was that they would ‘borrow clothes one from the other.’ If a person feels uninspired to repent, he should ‘borrow’ inspiration from his friend or teacher who does feel aroused to change. Let such a person ask someone inspired what awakened him until he feels like he is beginning to wake up spiritually and start to do teshuva!”
The Lev Simcha, zt”l, answered differently: “There were no days for the Jewish people that could compare to the fifteenth of Av. The gemara is very clear that people would make matches on that day. So we see that one needs a very special measure of assistance from above to merit to make good shidduchim for oneself and one’s children. We should not take this for granted! Shidduchim are not a simple matter at all!”

A World Without Wind

The Ben Ish Chai, zt”l, once told a story to explain the meaning of the Talmud’s statement: “Just as the world cannot exist without wind, so too can the world not exist without the Jewish people.”
Once there was a man who would always purchase exclusive rights from the royal crown to fish in a certain area. Since he made a comfortable living, he renewed his lease yearly for a number of years. One year, the king consigned the lease for this living to another of his subjects. When the man heard this he was shocked to the core, and ran to petition his case before the king.
“Is this fair?” he cried. “Is this just? How could his majesty take away my living without even informing me?”
The king agreed that it was unfair but could not repeal a decree that he had already written. Instead, he offered to grant the former lessee another man’s rights to a different living.
The lessee objected. “This would mean that I am stealing another man’s livelihood!” he claimed. He said to the king, “You are the absolute ruler here. I want you to lease me the wind for ten thousand gold coins instead.”
The king and his advisors thought that he man was mad, but the king granted his novel request.
The owner of all rights to the wind went to all the different smiths in his town and all the ship captains and forced them to pay for using their sails and bellows that harness the wind. He also charged a fee of anyone who opened his window to catch a passing breeze. Finally, he charged everyone for the right to breathe! He made a fortune in the year that he was allowed these rights to the wind!
This is why the Jewish people are compared to the wind. Everyone needs the wind of their breath—no one can survive without it. So too, everyone is dependent on the Jewish people to live since the whole world exists in the merit of the Jewish people!

“Give Ma’aser, and You Will Become Wealthy…”

Someone once came to Rav Pinchas of Koritz, zt”l, and asked a question that was obviously troubling him. “In Taanis 9, we find that Chazal cite the phrase עשר תעשר, literally ‘you shall surely give a tenth of your earnings,’ and reinterpret the second word as t’asheir instead of t’aser. This alters the meaning to, ‘Give a tenth, so that you will become wealthy.’ Here we have an assurance that if we faithfully give away a tenth of our earnings, we will be successful financially. I have given ma’aser assiduously my whole life. Why, then, have I have not merited wealth?”
Rav Pinchas answered, “Let me tell you a true story about my neighbor that sheds light on your question. My neighbor is a wagon driver. He has good horses and he cares for them with great devotion, always providing them with the best food and shelter possible. As expected, the horses have always preformed well, and they run with great endurance in all types of weather. One time, the horses failed to follow orders. Although they were hitched to their wagon and primed to travel, they simply refused to move. Since their owner knew that his animals lacked nothing, their obstinacy infuriated him. He figured that they needed to be taught a lesson. He began to beat them, all the while repeating his command that they start moving. An onlooker shouted at the wagon driver, ‘You are cruel to your animals! They have done nothing wrong! How can you expect them to move if you have the brakes engaged?’”
“This is your problem too,” explained the Rav. “Giving ma’aser can propel one’s financial success forward just as the horses hitched to the wagon will propel it toward its destination. However, if the brakes are engaged at the same time, the driver won’t get anywhere at all. If you are braking by failing to observe Shabbos and kashrus properly, the horses are not to blame for your inability to reach your goal. You must release the break mechanism by doing teshuvah and changing your behavior!”

Gemara and Parnassa

A chossid once came to Rav Moshe of Lelov, zt”l, with a plea for help: “Rebbe, I don’t know what to do. I try so hard to make a living, but my parnassa is just not what it needs to be! Sometimes I go through a better period when I make money, but then just when it seems to be going well I suddenly lose everything I’ve gained. How can I attain more stability in my finances?”
The Lelover Rebbe answered, “What you need to do is accept upon yourself to learn gemara every day, and then you will certainly succeed. I learn this out from the gemara in Taanis 25. There, the gemara relates that Rav Chanina’s dire circumstances influenced him to pray that he would be granted a part of his eternal reward in this world so that he could secure some degree of material ease. He prayed and his prayers were answered; he was given one of the gold legs from his table in the next world. When his wife saw in a dream that their table in the next world would be missing a leg, unlike the rest of the righteous whose reward was untouched and still whole, they decided to give it back and it was accepted. The gemara concludes that the fact that the heavenly table leg was taken back was an even greater miracle than the first. They said because, ‘we have learned that one who has something given to him from on high does not have it taken back.’ But this can also be explained a different way. “Gemiri”—one who learns his set seder of gemara every day will be granted success from heaven that will not be taken back!”

Seeing a Tragedy

During the period that led up to the outbreak of World War I, tensions in Europe were at an all-time high. The conflicting nationalistic aspirations of numerous groups threatened the stability of all of Europe, and many monarchies were on the brink of civil war at home, and war over territorial claims at their borders. During the summer immediately preceding the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand in Yugoslavia that began World War I, Europe was aptly compared to a powder keg, just waiting for the final spark to set it alight.
At that time, a number of gedolim proposed that a universal fast be declared over the Jewish community and circulated a petition to garner support.
When the matter became known, a certain communal leader declared that his vehement opposition. He publicly stated, “Right now, the Jewish Communists, Socialists, Zionists, and Bundists are presenting an unprecedented affront to G-d. Why should we, orthodox Jewry, have to fast because of their sins?”
The petitioners responded with an obvious answer. “The Medrash says clearly that since we are all in the same boat, it doesn’t matter if it is someone else’s fault that we are sinking because he has decided to drill a hole! To save ourselves, we have to undo the damage made by the other person.”
And, as for not waiting for disaster to strike but rather making an effort to pre-empt it, they had a perfect argument. “We find on Taanis 19a that Rabi Yosi said that the sages didn’t declare a fast because a tragedy had already happened. Rather, they declared a fast because they were able to see that a potential tragedy was looming on the horizon. ‘They declared a fast because wolves had devoured two young children on the far side of the Yarden. Rabi Yosi said: They weren’t eaten, they were seen…’ If the Chachomim felt that just spotting the wolves is enough of a reason to declare a fast, surely our situation is no less threatening! And we pasken like Rabi Yosi!”

The Keys of the Mikdash

The Brisker Rav, zt”l, would often receive inquiries from askonim and others who sought leniencies on the pretext that circumstances made them necessary to ensure the Jewish people’s survival. He would answer that even if it appears as though compromising the Torah’s integrity could safeguard its ultimate “survival,” we are still not permitted to “play G-d” and make changes that are not sanctioned by the straightforward halachah.
To better explain his uncompromising stance, he would make use of a proof from the following Gemara in Ta’anis: “During the destruction of the first Beis HaMikdash, the young kohanim took the keys to the sanctuary, climbed up to the roof, and threw them up toward heaven. They said that since they were no longer able to serve as faithful trustees, Hashem should assume the responsibility for the Mikdash. Something that appeared to have the form of a hand descended and took the keys, and the kohanim leapt into the flames.”
The Brisker Rav continued, “This teaches us a powerful lesson. The Torah is not our personal business concern over which we have independent control. In our own enterprise, we have the authority to sell off a product for a song in order to ensure that we have a good turnover until we build up the business and can sell at a profit. But the Torah is not something that we own, something that we can decide to alter by sacrificing certain halachos, to ensure that it will ‘sell’ for the time being until the ‘market’ is better!”
He concluded, “If we cannot accomplish our aims in accordance with the halachah, we accept that our hands are tied and do not act. We are only gizborim, trustees. We are not owners of the Torah with the latitude to alter it and do with it as we wish!”

“The Precepts of Hashem… Gladden the Heart”

Chazal teach that it is forbidden to learn words of (most areas of) Torah on Tisha B’av because they make a person joyous and such a state is incompatible with the nature of the fast day. The proof for the Torah’s ability to lift one’s spirits is taken from the verse: “The precepts of Hashem are right; they gladden the heart.” (Tehillim 19:9)
Unfortunately, some people don’t really feel the joy of learning. The Ohev Yisroel, zt”l, writes that although learning Torah gladdens the heart, one who pushes himself to proceed faster than he can realistically manage is in too much of a rush to enjoy his learning. We must be upwardly mobile spiritually, but only one step at a time.
A number of chassidim once asked Rav Mendel of Vitebsk, zt”l: “Why do we find ourselves depressed by unholy thoughts? We are learning and praying to the best of our ability. Doesn’t the verse say that Hashem’s precepts gladden one’s heart?”
Rav Mendel responded, “It says in Pirkei Avos that a person is considered wealthy when he is happy with what he has. This also refers to one’s spiritual attainments. Even though the Tanna D’bei Eliyahu writes that we should always ask when our deeds will come to those of the Avos, this does not mean that we should be unhappy with what we have accomplished. It is just meant to goad us to always strive for more!”
He concluded, “One who truly wants to serve Hashem will be thankful for every little bit of learning that he has achieved while he continues to yearn for more. It is only this type of Torah study that can save a person from depression and negative thoughts. This is what the verse means when it says that the Torah’s precepts gladden one’s heart. As Chazal tell us, the Torah is like an elixir; if one is worthy, it is an elixir of life, but if not it is like poison. One must always be happy with what he learns, for ‘Torah study is equal to all the other mitzvos!”

The Words of a Tzaddik

Chazal tell us that a righteous person makes a decree and Hashem fulfills it (Moed Katan 16.)
Once, a very simple Jew who lived in Bnei Brak had a serious problem. A short time before Shabbos, his pipe burst and the only way to shut down the water in his own apartment was through closing the main, which would deprive many other families of water. It seemed that the only thing he could do would be to leave the water on throughout Shabbos, with all of the attendant loss of water, money, and the damage that it might entail. Since it was much too late to call a plumber before Shabbos, the man felt that he had no other choice but to leave the water running. Just before Shabbos, he was struck with another idea.
The man ran to the Chazon Ish, zt”l, and told him his trouble.
“But how can I help you?” asked the Gadol. “I’m not a plumber!”
“Please just say that the water will stop flowing in my house.”
Bemused, the Chazon Ish repeated this phrase and wished the man a good Shabbos.
Amazingly, the water remained off only in this man’s house throughout the entire Shabbos.
After Shabbos, this man went back to the Chazon Ish with a different problem.
He implored, “Rebbi, I need my water back on now that it is Motzei Shabbos and I have easily found a plumber to fix the trouble. Please turn it back on—I have no water in my house!”
Surprised, the Chazon Ish asked, “But how do you expect me to help you now?”
The man responded, “I would like you to say that my water should start to flow again!”
No less bemused than before, the Gadol did so and then wished the man Gut voch.
And the water started to run again through the repaired pipes!

Spirit of the Law: Chapter 122: 1 Chizuk and Beyn Hamitzarim

1 "From the 17th of Tamuz the tzaros of the churban started so the custom is to comport oneself a little like a mourner. It is fitting for anyone who fears heaven to say tikun chatzos after midday during this time…"
The Gemara writes:all who mourn the destruction of Yerushalayim will merit to see her nechama .The Maharal explains two reasons why one must first mournto see the nechamah.

the first thing to understand is that the world is in a very imperfect state primarily because it lacks its most basic component: the Beis Hamikdash.Mourning the Beis Hamikdash shows that we appreciate our loss and the reason for our loss.
The more we appreciate how much we lack on because of our lack of a Beis Hamikdash the more we mourn and show our relationship with the true metsios of the world. For the world is really supposed to be a world of completion for a world with a Beis Hamikdash reveals the deep spiritual connection between the Creator and His creations .
The second reason is because the rule is that only something lacking can come to a new level of completion. For example, a seed must decompose in order to grow into a tree. The contents of an egg must become putrid before a chick can be formed.
We can learn this from a number of chazal’s as well: The yearning for Chachma makes one a suitable vessel to receive chachama. A woman’s yearning for children makes her a suitable vessel to have children. Even in the antecedents of the world we find that first there was tohu, vohu and choshech and only then could there be a creation.
For this reason it is only one who feels that he is missing the Beis Hamikdash who will be able to access the spiritual levels of nechama, Hashem's comfort to us. Only one who truly knows his flaws has space to become more complete. One who feels complete cannot develop since “you can’t improve on perfection.” If he really doesn’t feel perfect why doesn't he yearn for completion? Failure to yearn shows that for one reason or another we relate to ourselves as if we were perfect . Intenllectual knowledge of our flaws is completely irrelvant just as one who "knows" that he needs to control his temper will continue to act the exact same way if his knowledge stays in his head and does not reach his heart.
Our identity is revealed in our attitude. Refusal to emotionally acknowledge our imperfections by ignoring them and failing to yearn to improve them, condemns us to bear our faults.To explain this with a simple metaphor:if someone who takes a daily dose of live saving medicine knows he has run out he can try and get another prescription and purchase more. One who has no idea that he is almost out believes he has enough and will take no steps to rectify his situation until he notices that his supply is dwindling. Surely we would never fix something we don’t believe is broken.
Often one doesn't yearn to improve his faults because he feels that his flaws and sins are so much a part of him that he will never change. This person also belives he is complete but in a different way. He feels that he is complete in the sense that he cannot possibly change so why yearn? If we really felt there was hope because Hashem can always improve us, we would yearn to access the levels of the holiness of the Beis Hamikdash continuously with our whole heart.
In Brochos 32 we find that for although we no longer have the holy temple, regarding one who has true understanding the Beis Hamikdash is considered to have been rebuilt.If we yearn and plead with Hashem to improve our faults we will surely attain the level of completion Hashem wants for us. The first step of all spiritual ascent is an absolute belief that all failures can be turned around. All one needs to do is yearn to improve with his entire being whenever he can. One must also "tough it out" by patiently doing whatever good possible while waiting for Hashem's salvation.
Rav Nosson of Breslov zt”l, wrote in a letter, “...Regarding the all important issue: your very bitter cry of pain (of your present spiritual state) as a result of your of sins and the thoughts that the Yetzer Hara attacks you with,the main tactic of the yester Hara, (since all illicit actions are the fruit of negative or unproductive thoughts which determine our attitudes and spiritual\ emotional state as well as how we will react.Bad thoughts are the prelude to all spiritual falls.) I have heard your cries and know your pain from before and now (so much that) my heart goes out to you since I feel every bit of your pain as if it was my own…but the very fact that you are crying out with such bitterness, literally until the heavens because of this, comforts and encourages me!
My son; you must know and believe that Hashem hears every single cry and will surely deliver you in the merit of following the advice of the true tsadikim. That the deliverance is taking so long is on account of a hidden reason. But it is certain that failing to strengthen ourselves to overcome such bad thoughts is partially why your deliverance tarries.)
Another reason this [often] takes so long is because Hashem loves to hear the tefilos of Yisrael, even the prayers of the lowest of the low! But even so; not even a single cry is lost so regardless of results, you must continue to cry out with all your might!
… Know my son:there were people much worse off than you that I knew who were healed. Through the words I received from the Rebbi, they were completely rectified and their lot is the portion of those who merit eternal life… !
In another letter Rav Nosson signs off by saying, “May Hashem help us to weep and mourn the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash which principally means that we should mourn because of our sins that prevent the rebuilding of the Beis Hamikdash until we merit to change our agony and sighing into the happiness and joy of trust in Hashem’s kindness and great deliverance until everything turns into good!
The words of your father, who is waiting for deliverance and praying for you,
Nosson of Breslov .
This sentiment was echoed by Rav Wolbe, zt”l, when he said, “I will give you a big sum of money if you can find even one bochur who believes that it is possible to come to the level whereby one can go an entire year without sins. I am not talking about trying to accept upon ourselves to go a year without sin. Quite the contrary! Kabalos have to be exclusively small. But we must at least believe that this is possible (after much introspection and toil.) I am not even talking about coming to gadlus which is a much greater level. I am talking about entering into our heads and hearts the genuine belief that it is possible to rid ourselves of all sin! This emunah is a prerequisite of true [teshuvah which consists of] charata of the past and acceptance for the future !”

Spirit of the Law: Tisha B'Av

124: 3:“…One doesn’t say Tachanun or Kel Erech Apayim on Tisha B’Av because it is a Moed. “
Rav Yerucham Levovitz, zt”l, explained this very succinctly: “There are moadim of closeness like the shalosh regalim, and there is also a moed of distance, which is Tisha B’Av!”
Rav Wolbe, zt”l, explained further. “In the Medrash Yalkut Yirmiyahu #2 we find: HaKadosh Boruch Hu said, Why was Yerushalayim destroyed? Because you, the Jewish people, said ‘I have not sinned.’ When a person sins and denies his deed, he is living a lie. Since Hashem is a G-d of truth, it is as if the person’s connection to Hashem is cut off with regard to that sin. The more one lives a lie, the greater the area where one lives without a real connection to Hashem. One has no chance of repairing the damage through repentance, since a person who denies what he has done won’t admit that he has done wrong! On the other hand, when a person faces up to the distance that exists between him and Hashem because of his sin, he is living in the truth. Paradoxically, his admission of distance is what connects him to Hashem. This is the distance that is also a moed, a meeting. In this way, a person can repair the damage done and draw closer to his Creator. When we see our many flaws, this is a great reason to be encouraged since we can correct them by taking the proper action.”
We learn this lesson from Kesuvos 13 as well. Chazal bring the verse from Mishlei 30:20: “She eats and wiped her mouth and says, ‘I have not sinned.’” The sin is magnified many times by rationalizing instead of seeing the problem and working toward a solution. Rav Moshe Shmuel Shapiro, zt”l, used to say, “Teshuvah means taking the next step forward to Hashem!”

Silence is Golden

When the Imrei Emes of Ger, zt”l, returned from his first voyage to Eretz Yisroel, the Rav of Kalish, zt”l, tried to elicit some details about his journey. The Imrei Emes, however, did not seem to be willing to engage in conversation.
“Nu?” prodded the Kalisher Rav. “How does the Rebbe feel after his visit to the Holy Land? Don’t Chazal say that even the air of Eretz Yisroel makes one wise?”
The Imrei Emes nodded. “Yes, it’s true,” he answered. “And Chazal also said: the protective fence for wisdom…is silence!”
This can also mean that silence is sometimes the best defense, because with it, one can avoid an argument altogether.
A delegation of Sefardic rabbis once came to visit the Mahari”l Diskin, zt”l, the illustrious Rav of Brisk.
As soon as they arrived, the group of sages began to weave a number of intricate arguments about certain Torah subjects, while the Mahari”l simply sat quietly and did not participate.
Eventually they tired of this, and decided to take their leave. As they left, the members of the delegation shook their heads in dismay and lamented to one another, “What a pity—to see such a great scholar who has gotten old and forgotten his learning!”
What the group didn’t realize was that the gaon of Brisk was just as much a master of silence as he was a master of Torah!

The Kallah and the Mother in Law

Once there was a young man who spent much time and energy every day taking care of his elderly mother. He did not hide this fact from the shadchanim with which he came into contract. On the contrary, he told them up front that he planned to continue taking care of his mother after marriage as well and wished to find a wife willing to assume this burden.
Understandably, this cut into his prospects. Although he was a very eligible young man in other respects with sterling middos, virtually no girl was willing to saddle herself with a young man with such harsh obligations from the outset of marriage. Why should she take on such an unbearable burden?
The shadchanim were afraid that this young man would remain single his entire life. Clearly, the mother should be placed in one of any number of frum old age homes where she would not be a burden to a new couple just starting out on life.
One shadchan broached this issue with the young man and advised him to ask this question of Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach, zt”l. The shadchan. who had hoped that the great posek would tell this young man to drop his foolish insistence and be realistic about shiduchim, found Rav Shlomo Zalman’s response to the bochur very surprising. “You are absolutely correct to search for a ba’alas chesed in precisely this manner. If a young lady is unwilling to take care of your mother, she is clearly not for you.”
After a time the young man finally found a ba’alas midos willing to take on this incredible self-sacrifice. She was willing to live in a small apartment with her husband and her new mother-in-law and help care for the elderly woman.
When the young man came to tell Rav Shlomo Zalman the news, he was completely floored by what he heard, “Mazel Tov! Now you know you are getting a true ba’alas chesed. But you must immediately start searching for a good home for your unfortunate mother. Actually placing such a burden on your young bride-to-be is unfair and is simply not an option!”

The Genuine Zealot

Chazal tell us that the Jewish people challenged Pincha’s right to kill a prince of Israel on account of religious zealotry. Although in that case they were wrong, it is no simple thing to be a zealot l’shem shomayim. One of the cardinal rules of genuine zealotry is that the “kana’i” must be filled with real love of Hashem and concern for his fellow Jews. Otherwise, he is likely to merely be spewing hatred for his fellow man under the guise of piety. Although Rav Amram Blau, zt”l, was the leader of the “kano’im” of Yerushalayim, his ahavas Hashem and ahavas Yisroel was palpable even as he led protests. When he died, the very policemen who had opposed him so forcefully tearfully attended his funeral. When they were asked why they had come to their “archenemy’s” funeral they replied that they had all felt that he was pained by what he saw as the necessity of protesting and knew with absolute certainty that he loved every Jew. His protestations had been nothing personal; one never felt any spite or hatred emanating from him.
One of the great students of the Maharil Diskin, zt”l, was also a very dedicated zealot. Throughout his mentor’s lifetime, he would always attend protests against various offenses and was a very formidable force within the ranks of the “kano’im.” He was clearly willing to die for the cause and the policemen who didn’t wish to actually kill the zealots didn’t have a permanent solution for this particular man. However much they beat him, he was back with new vitality at the next protest—once again clearly willing to die for the cause.
Shortly after the Maharil Diskin’s passing a protest was arranged. Although this man had definitely been present when the protest was announced, he did not attend. After the protest he was approached by the organizers who exclaimed, “Where were you? Your presence was sorely missed!”
“I will no longer be attending protests,” replied the student to the shocked group.
“But why?” they asked, clearly mystified.
“Until now, my rebbi the Maharil Diskin told me to attend, so I was sure that I was l’shem shomayim. After all, I was merely obeying my rebbi. But now that he is gone I can never attend…”
The man concluded, “Who is to say that my attendance is not merely a guise to vent my anger and hatred?”

The Service of the Heart

Someone once asked Rav Noach of Lechovitz, zt”l, “Isn’t prayer what we do when we praise the King for all the great things that He does, or ask Him to fulfill our needs? Why does the Gemara call it a service, an avodah, of the heart?”
Rav Noach responded, “The heart is like a field. It is only after a field has been well worked that one can plant in it and look forward to a good harvest. Before a field is worked, it is not worthy of being called a field. It is merely a desolate plot of land. The heart is the same. Prayer works our hearts out thoroughly and gives us the ability to connect to Hashem and feel the way a Jew should!”
The Chasam Sofer, zt”l, answered differently. “The reason why prayer is called an avodah is because we really don’t have the ability to do anything to serve Hashem of our own accord. The most we can do is yearn to serve Him and beg to be worthy of doing so until we reach the level of truly loving Hashem. We see this from the words of the book of Tehillim, especially chapter 119. Since the only way we come to serve Hashem is through pleading with Him to be found worthy of doing so, prayer is called service. This is also why the Gemara in Taanis 2a teaches that we come to love Hashem with our whole hearts through prayer. We can do nothing else but continuously daven to Hashem until He has mercy and brings us a little closer to Him!”

The Secrets of the Torah

In various places the Gemara concludes that certain details are a “guzmah” which literally means exaggerated. The Pnei Zakein zt”l warns us away from a misunderstanding; chalilah that one should think that the Sages, who never wasted a single word, would indulge in simple exaggeration. The truth is that guzmah also means to cut. When the Gemara wants to hint at a very deep secret and still keep the matter hidden, the Sages used the language of guzmah—words that slice their meaning in two without revealing the secret.
The Chofetz Chayim zt”l, in his explanation of a Medrash, wrote that every word, every single letter, of Torah actually contains the deepest mysteries inside it that will only be revealed by Hashem in the world to come. One who learns the Torah in this world will be able to understand the true meaning of the Torah in the next world, and whoever did not exert himself to learn in this world will not understand the secrets contained within that Torah in the next world.
Rav Yitzchok Aizik of Komarna zt”l, the “Pnei Zakain” on Shekalim, once related: “My father tasted the world to come in the Torah. He was so connected to the Torah that he would often spend several days immersed in his learning without eating anything. Even so, he never appeared to suffer from hunger. The Torah sustained him so much that his very face shined!”
“One time, I remember my mother telling my cousin that she worried for his health since he hadn’t eaten for five days. My cousin went to see after him, but my father insisted all was well.
“My precious child,” he said, “believe me when I say that I absolutely do not feel hunger. If I felt any hunger I would eat, because hunger causes bitul Torah and weakness.” He was so bound up to the deeper level of Torah that he did not even feel that he had not eaten for days!

A Share in the World to Come

Chazal state that one who learns halachos every day is assured of his share in the world to come. Why should one be assured of such a great reward for doing what seems to be a very simple thing?
The students of Rav Chaim Vital, zt”l, once asked their mentor, “When the Mishnah (Shabbos, end of perek 5) discusses the cow belonging to the neighbor of Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya that went out with a strap between its eyes on Shabbos in violation of the will of the sages, the animal is attributed to Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya and not its actual owner. Why was it considered his? Because he could have protested the man’s actions and didn’t. The Yerushalmi brings that this only happened once, yet the Tanna fasted so long as part of his penitence that his teeth became blackened! If this is how one should repent of such a subtle flaw, how can we ever attain true repentance and sanctity? How can we ever fast enough to negate all of our many errors?”
Rav Chaim Vital answered, “The degree of difficulty of something teaches us about its worth. In the times of the Mishnah, the world was much closer to Sinai and there was much less spiritual darkness. Anyone who wanted to come close to Hashem therefore had to work all the harder. Nowadays, because of the abundant darkness of exile, even just crying out from the depths of one’s heart is as precious to Hashem as the fasts of earlier times!”
When the Yismach Yisroel of Alexander, zt”l, told this story, he applied it to learning halacha: “As we know, Hashem is not a tyrant; He doesn’t demand that which we cannot produce. (Avodah Zarah 3) Today is much darker spiritually compared with what it was during the time of Rav Chaim Vital. This is why one who learns halachos every day is assured of his share in the world to come. This could be referring to learning when one finds it very difficult to do so, as it is in our time!”

Earning Your Portion of the Wolrld to Come

It is well known that it is virtually impossible to achieve significant material comfort without real hard work even nowadays. During the time of the Ba’al Hafla’ah, zt”l, however, just making a simple living could consume all of a person’s time and energy. Jews often worked in petty trade, and people would exert themselves for days on end riding through rain and snow to purchase merchandise in one place just so they could cart it somewhere else where they hoped to make a profit. Sometimes the merchandise would be stolen or destroyed, or would lose whatever value it had even before it got to market. Such a misfortune could bring on swift ruin.
Once, a traveling merchant who had been riding the whole night and was in dire need of refreshment found himself at the doorstep of the famous Ba’al Hafla’ah. The man was literally freezing and was desperately in need of shelter from the blizzard that raged outside. He was graciously admitted to the house, and after some hot tea and cake warmed him up a bit, he posed a question to the gadol.
“The Rav can see for himself what my olam ha’zeh is like,” he began. “My question is, what will my olam ha’bah look like?”
The Ba’al Hafla’ah gently answered, “My son, this is what your olam ha’zeh looks like after putting in so much effort. What makes you think that you’ll merit a big portion in the next world without any toil at all?”

The World to Come

Someone once asked the Chofetz Chaim zt”l, “If every Jew has a portion in the world to come, why do we have to work so hard to keep all the details of the Torah?”
The Chofetz Chaim answered, “In Kiev lives a wealthy Jew named Brodsky who owns many businesses employing hundreds of different types of workers with different sets of skills and levels of expertise. And each is paid accordingly. Brodsky is a charitable man and also supports a number of poor relations, all of whom appear on the payroll. At times, Brodsky visits one of his factories or offices and speaks with his workers in front of the others, asking detailed questions about what they do and how much they are paid.
“Once, a worker answered his questions with a simple statement: ‘I receive a salary.’ All the others burst out laughing. How could the man not even feel enough shame to hide the fact that he was being paid for doing nothing at all?
“This is your answer: We all have a portion in the world to come, but isn’t it shameful not to have worked for it?”

The Key to Humility

Many people would come to the Imrei Menachem of Alexander, zt”l, seeking his guidance on how to achieve humility. He would say, “In Chovos HaLevavos we find a very deep story which I hold is the key to attaining humility. Rabbeinu Bachaya relates that a pious man once met a group of warriors on their way home from their exploits. They had won the war, and were laden with the spoils. He said to them, ‘You have returned from the small war. Now you will have to wage the real battle: the struggle against your evil inclination!’”
The Rebbe would then explain, “The Chovos HaLevavos is not referring to a pious man meeting actual soldiers returning from a physical war. Such people are hardly the types who care much for the milchemes hayetzer, the inner battle with their lower selves. This pious man had met with sincere servants of Hashem who had already defeated their evil inclinations by ascending new levels of Torah and avodah. Our pious man explained to them that they had really only just begun. True, they had obtained a measure of success and had even ‘taken spoils,’ but the real fight against the ego that gets inflated from accomplishments still awaited them. The most important battle is against pride, since it is only the prideful person who feels secure in sitting on his laurels and no longer moving forward. The more enamored we are of our achievements, the less we feel how far we still have to go and how much more we have yet to achieve!”

Who is Amalek?

In Jerusalem, everyone had been awaiting the arrival of His Royal Majesty, Kaiser Wilhelm of Germany, and when he and his vast entourage finally came everyone went out to see the mighty ruler. The holy residents of Jerusalem were not mere curiosity-seekers—they were avidly awaiting the opportunity to recite the blessing over a non-Jewish king. People prepared themselves by studying the relevant halachos from the source in the gemara, and when the time came, everyone turned out for the extravagant reception in honor of the visiting monarch.
Those who were close to Rav Yosef Chaim Sonnenfeld, zt”l, noticed that he was not preparing himself to join in the gala event. This was strange, especially since the Rav was always the first to join in any mitzvah. And how much more confusing it was in this case, when the opportunity to fulfill this particular mitzvah might never present itself again. When those close to him questioned his unusual behavior—unusual in the sense of being too usual—the Rav answered, “You are correct. I am not planning to attend the reception at all.”
When asked why, he explained, “I have received a tradition from my teachers that some Germans are descendants of Amalek. There is no mitvah to make a blessing on a king from the line of Amalek!”
Those present did not comprehend how such a thing could be so, since the Germans were universally considered the most civilized and cultured people in all of Europe. After the Holocaust they understood all too well the truth of Rav Yosef Chaim’s prescient words!