The Har Nof Kedoshim; A Spiritual Response - Drasha Parshat Toldot 5775

The Har Nof Kedoshim; A Spiritual Response

Every morning as soon as I wake up, I check the news. It is a bad habit which started this past summer when Israel was at war. Even before I go to shul, I always check to see if anything happened in Israel.

This past Tuesday, when I woke up I read the awful news. Two Arab terrorists entered a shul in Har Nof, Jerusalem with guns, knives and meat cleavers and murdered 4 rabbis.

All terrorism is awful but there was something about the image of these 4 rabbis in the middle of shmoneh esreh (silent prayer) wearing tallis and tefilin that just makes this unbearable.

All Tuesday, I was numb trying to think of what we can do here in Potomac. Someone posted a link to the audio lectures of Rabbi Moshe Twersky (one of the victims and a teacher at Yeshivas Toras Moshe). I decided to have a special class at Beth Sholom on Tuesday night where I would teach over some of Rav Moshe’s torah. I spent about 4 hours on Tuesday just listening to Rav Moshe’s audio lectures just hours after he was murdered. That night over 60 of you came to learn Rav Moshe’s torah on Eretz Yisrael and Kiddush Hashem (the mitzvah of martyrdom). We read the biographies of those who were murdered (including 30 year old Zidan Sayif, the 30 year old Israeli Druze police officer who heroically saved many on that morning and then succumbed to his wounds on Tuesday afternoon). Finally, we recited the Kel Maleh memorial prayer in memory of the victims.

On Wednesday morning, Rabbi Linzer (Rosh Hayeshiva of my rabbinical school, YCT) and Rabbi Lopatin (president of YCT) were in Israel and went to the Twersky shiva home. Rabbi Linzer told Rav Moshe’s children about how we studied his fathers lectures here in Potomac and apparently the fact that their father’s Torah was being taught brought them a sense of comfort. When Rabbi Linzer and Rabbi Lopatin shared this with Rabbi Moshe’s mother, Atara, she said that “she never thought her son would experience his own shiur (lecture) [on Kiddush Hashem] by dying al kiddush Hashem.”

I was very moved that our little act of learning here in Potomac brought nechama (comfort)  to the family of the one of the Kedoshim.

But I have been thinking a lot about the term Kedoshim (martyrs) and its application to the 4 men who were murdered in Har Nof. According to Halacha (Jewish Law), dying al kiddush Hashem has a very specific meaning. A classic example would be the first crusade in 1096 when Jews were given a choice by the crusaders to either convert to Christianity and live or to die as a Jew. Kedoshim (martyrs) were those people who chose to die as Jews rather than live as Christians. This was also true when the Almohads (a fanatical muslim sect) in North Africa in the 12th century gave Jews a choice; either proclaim the Shahada (The only G-d is Allah and Muhammad is his prophet) or die and many Jews (the Kedoshim) preferred to die as Jews than proclaim the Shahada. However, in Har Nof, the victims were never given a choice. They were murdered in the middle of prayer. Are they to be referred to as Kedoshim (Martyrs)?

It turns out that there is actually a lot of research on this subject. The very concept of dying al kiddush hashem has gone through somewhat of a transformation. While it originally referred to someone who was killed making a choice to be a Jew instead of converting out, over time (especially during the Holocaust) it came to also refer to people who were killed because they were Jews even if they were given no choice.

Let me give two examples from the Holocaust. The first comes from Rav Ahrele Rubin, rabbi of Dinovitz. When his community was being taken out by the Nazis to be murdered, he put on his Kitel and told them the following:

אחים יקרים, אנו עוברים עתה אל מלכות שמים...לכו בשמחה לקראת גורלכם. אשריכם, אשרינו, שזכינו למות כיהודים, מוות כזה נחשב כמוות על קידוש השם, כי כל פשעינו בכך שאנו יהודים.

“My precious brothers. We are now about to enter the Kingdom of Heaven….Go in joy to meet your fate. You are praised, we are praised, that we have merited to die as Jews. This death is considered a death consecrating G-d’s name (al kiddush hashem). For our only ‘sin’ is that we are Jews.”

In other words, Rav Ahrele tells his community that when one is murdered because he or she is Jewish, they are dying al kiddush hashem.

One more source from the Shoah. Rabbi Elchanan Wasserman was one of the most respected rabbis in pre-war Europe. He was the Rosh Hayeshiva of the yeshiva in Baranovich. During the war he ran away and eventually found himself in the Kovno Ghetto. In June 1941, Rabbi Wasserman and 11 other rabbis were arrested. When they were taken out to be slaughtered, Rabbi Wasserman encouraged the other rabbis with the following words:

עלינו לזכור, שבאמת נהיה מקדשי השם. נלך בראש זקוף...אנו מקיימים עתה את המצווה הגדולה של קידוש השם. האש תשרוף את גופנו וזה יתקן מחדש את עם ישראל.

“We must remember that we are sanctifying G-d name. We should go out with our heads held high….We are now performing the great mitzvah of Kiddush Hashem (sanctifying G-d’s name through martryrdom). The fire that will burn our bodies will renew the Jewish People.”

And then Rabbi Wasserman instructed his colleagues to make a blessing, Blessed are you Hashem who commanded us “to sanctify his name in public” (לקדש שמו ברבים).

During the holocaust, a new definition of martyrdom crystallizes. Martyrdom is not only dying in order to practice Judaism, it is also when when one dies because one is Jewish. These people are also Kedoshim. And certainly the Har Nof Kedoshim who were killed while davening and wearing tallis and tefilin are Kedoshim.

But this left me with a major halakhic dillemma for today. Today is shabbat mevorchim chodesh Kislev. We blessed the new month of Kislev which begins on Sunday. There is one prayer that we don’t say on shabbatot when we bless the new moon. The prayer of “Av Harachamim.” Let me explain.

Av Harachamim was composed after the crusades of 1096 when Christian Crusaders butchered thousands of Jews in Northern France and Germany. The prayer asks G-d to remember the pious and upright who gave up their life “al Kiddush Hashem,” sanctifying G-d’s name (שמסרו נפשם על קדוש השם).

We say this rather emotional and tear jerking prayer every shabbat except for weeks when we bless the new moon (as the sadness of the prayer is considered to conflict with the joy of the new moon). However, since we are jews, we have exceptions to our exceptions! The exception to the exception is that even though we normally do not say “Av Harachamim” on shabbat when we bless the new moon, we do say it on those shabbatot during the Omer period (between Pesach and Shavuoth). The reason for this exception to the exception is because it was during the omer period when the crusades happened.

My halakhic dilemma (which was raised on a number of rabbinic listserves) was should we say Av Harachamim this shabbat or not? On the one hand, this week is shabbat of blessing the new moon, so maybe we should not say it. On the other hand, the words “who gave their souls sanctifying G-d’s name) just seemed so appropriate for this shabbat so maybe we should say it just as we say it during the Omer Period?
I went back and forth on this question every day. To say or not to say until I finally made my decision based on the following chilling story told by Rabbi Riskin.

Rabbi and Rebbetzin Schwartz lived on the upper west side of Manhattan. They had lost their parents and grandparents in the Holocaust. They now had two sons and in 1964, they made Aliyah. In 1967, during the 6 day war, their older son was killed. How sad. They had lost their entire family in the shoah and now they lost their older son. At the end of the Yom Kippur War (in 1973), Rabbi Riskin travelled to Israel. Upon landing, he read in the Jerusalem Post that the Schwartz family’s younger son was killed in the Yom Kippur war. Now they had lost their entire family during the Holocaust, their older son during the 6 day war and their younger son during the Yom Kippur War.

Rabbi Riskin rushed to their house for a shiva visit. When he arrived he sat for about a half an hour without saying anything and then he had to get up to leave (he was leading a mission to Israel). On his way out, he said the traditional words of comfort, HaMakom Yenachem Etchem Betoch Sha’ar Aveilei Zion Ve’yerushalayim - May G-d comfort you among the mourners of zion and Jerusalem. As he was leaving, Rabbi Schwartz asked, “Are you Rabbi Riskin”? Rabbi Riskin said, Yes. “I have a question for you, Rabbi Riskin. Why is it that when we offer we comfort, we say Hamakom Yenachem? There are many names for G-d. Hashem, Elokim, Harachaman. Many other names would have been more appropriate. Why the name “Hamakom” which literally means “the place”? Rabbi Schwartz then answered his own question. “When my parents and grandparents were murdered in the Holocaust, it was pointless. It was senseless. I have never felt any nechama (consolation) from it. However, the death of my two boys even though it is so awful, I have a little nechama. Hamakom Yenachem Oti. The place comforts me. Which place? This place, Yerushalayim, Eretz Yisrael and Medinat Yisrael. My boys died fighting for this place which will provide a better future for the Jewish People and this place comforts me.”

I think we can say something similar about the Har Nof Massacre. These Kedoshim were spiritually protecting Hamakom, the place when they died. The Druze policeman was physically protecting Medinat Yisrael when he died and Hamakom Yenachem Otanu. The place, Har Nof, Yerushalayim, Eretz Yisrael, Medinat Yisrael will offer us comfort.

In that same “place,” the very next day where the morning before was tragedy, hundreds of Israelis packed the shul in Har Nof wearing Tallis and Tefilin and davened with so much Kavannah. In that “place” in Israel in the Druze village, the next day Zidan was laid to rest in a coffin draped in the Israeli Flag with Druze and Jews offering Eulogies and comforting each other. We have the place and the place comforts us.

I therefore decided that we would not say, “Av Harachamim.” Because our situation is very different from 1096 and from the Almohad persecutions in the 12th century. It is different from the Spanish Inquisition and from the Holocaust. Because in all of those situations, we had no place. Av Harachamim was really a prayer of desperation. We could not protect ourselves so we asked G-d to take revenge. But in this case, the terrorists were actually killed by a Jewish/Israeli police force protecting ourselves. This was unimaginable in 1096 or 1941. And now, the Israeli Government, Military and Shin Bet will decide what to do to protect the residents of Jerusalem and Israel. Some of us might not agree with every decision but we must be grateful for the fact that our protection is in our hands (of course with G-d’s help). How unimaginable this would have been in 1096 or 1941. And I therefore decided that we should not say Av Harachamim. Hamakom Yenachem Otanu. The place (Yerushalayim, Har Nof, Israel) will certainly comfort us.

I would like to conclude with the letter written by the 4 wives of the Har Nof Kedoshim. It is signed by Chaya Levine, Bryna Goldberg, Yaakovah Kupinsky, and Bashy Twersky.

A plea from the bereft widows and families

From the depths of our broken hearts melted with tears over the spilled blood of the kedoshim, the holy heads of our families – may Hashem avenge their blood:

We turn to our brethren, the entire Jewish nation in every place they are found, to unite and elicit the mercy of heaven upon us by accepting upon ourselves to increase love and brotherhood, from friend to friend, from congregation to congregation, and from community to community.

We request that every individual endeavor to accept upon themselves on Friday, the eve of Parshas Toldos, that the day of Shabbos (the eve of Rosh Chodesh Kislev) be sanctified as a day of unconditional love of our fellow Jew; a day on which we refrain from divisive speech, lashon hara and slander.

This will serve as a great elevation for the souls of the fathers of our families who were murdered in the name of G-d.

May Hashem peer down from Heaven, note our trials and tribulations, wipe away our tears and proclaim, “Enough!” to our suffering. May we merit to witness the arrival of Mashiach speedily, in our days, Amen!

Thank You - I would like to thank Rabbi Barry Gelman for many insights that helped in writing this drasha.

Why does G-d Test Us? Sermon Parshat Vayera 2014

I would like to open with a scene from a movie that I cannot get out of my mind. I don't remember the movie or the actor. The main actor is retiring from his firm after many years of hard work. There is a beautiful retirement party where wonderful speeches are delivered about how valuable the retiree was to the firm. The retiree has also spent a lot of time with his successor giving over all of his files so that his successor will know what to do in different situations that can come up. The next morning the retiree wakes up and realizes that he forgot something at his office. He gets in his car, drives to the office, drives around the back to the parking lot. When he passes the garbage dump, he sees all of his files put out in the garbage.
So sad on so many levels.
One of the reasons that this scene is so sad is because we desperately want to believe that we are unique, special and even irreplaceable. Yet at the end of a long career, the retiree realized that he was completely replaceable. A new person would come in with his own ideas and after a few weeks, the old guy would be forgotten. From time to time, I go back to that scene and it saddens me. If you think about almost every aspect of our lives, we are so replaceable. Even if we work hard on something and do a good job, the reality is that many others could do the same if we were not there. So sad….
But this week, I discovered a beautiful insight from our parshah that I think offers a much more positive perspective.
Let us begin with some questions. We have been learning all about Avraham's life the last two weeks. If you were asked to sum up Avraham's life in one sentence, what would you say? Well the mishna in Avot says this:

עשרה נסיונות נתנסה אברהם ועמד בכלם להודיע חבתו של אברהם אבינו…

Avraham was tested 10 times and he withstood every test to demonstrate his love for G-d. 

The mishna summarizes Avraham's life by basically saying that he was a test-passer. Two questions. First, is this the greatest thing we can say about Avraham? What about all of his chesed? What about הנפש אשר עשו בחרן. Avraham was the first to discover monotheism and then he spread it to so many others. What about the fact that according to the midrash, Avraham and Sarah kept the entire Torah even before it was given. We have a hard enough time keeping it now that we have the text, yet Avraham and Sarah kept all of the torah before it existed in this world. Not bad! 

Yet, when we summarize Avraham's life, we talk about the tests and trials. Why?

Question #2 is a theological or philosophical one. Why does G-d test us? When you think about most tests, there are two parties; the tester and the testee. The tester (say, a teacher) tests his or her students to find out if they know the material. If you take a driving test, the tester (the state) tests the driver to find out if he or she has the knowledge and skill to not kill anyone with the car. But why then would G-d ever have to test Avraham or anyone. Didn't G-d know before the trial of the Binding of Isaac that Avraham would do it. Why all the drama if G-d knew in advance. Why does G-d have to test us. Doesn't G-d know whether or not we will pass the test?

So we have two questions on the table. #1 - Why are tests so important? #2 - Why would an all knowing G-d have to test?

Well the Ramban (Nachmanides) is bothered by the second question. He therefore claims that הנסיון מצד המנוסה- Tests (at least divine tests) are for the Testee and not for the tester….להוציא הכח אל הפועל - to actualize our potential. In other words, G-d tests us not to to find out if we will do the right thing. G-d already knows. G-d tests us so that we can take all of our latent potential that we worked hard at by performing mitzvoth and good deeds and through the test, the difficult situation, we actualize our latent potential and become even better and stronger people. 

This is a very powerful idea but I want to take it even deeper by sharing a teaching of the Meor Eynayim, Reb Nochum of Chernobyl (18th century Chassidic Master). 

Every once in a while, I will read a text (often a chassidic text) and it will hit in such a deep way that it forces me to rethink everything I do. This text was one of those. Listen closely (with an open heart).

כל יהודי יש לו שליחות מלמעלה שלמענה ירד לעולם…

"Every Jew (I would say every person) has a unique special mission that for it, he or she descended to this world"

Let me pause here. You ever ask yourself, "why am I here?" Why was I created? The answer (according to Reb Nochum of Chernobyl) is that I was created to complete my special mission which nobody else can do. It is completely unique to me. 

There is only one problem. I don't know what my mission is. We are not born with a little instructions book telling us what our mission is. So how do we know what our mission is?

Reb Nochum of Chernobyl continues. 

וכל יהודי יש לו עשרה נסיונות כפי ערך שלו

We all have 10 tests throughout our lives just like Avraham. We all have our Lech Lecha moment when we have to pick up and go, we all have our moment of arriving at that place where we promised that it would be better and then what happens, ויהי רעב בארץ - there was a famine and they had to go down to Egypt. Instead of getting better, it got worse. 

We all have our Hagars and Yishmaels with family struggles and tests and trials. And just like Sarah was barren, we all have difficult tests around health and medical issues. And finally, we all have our Akedah. We all have something (or somethings) in life that are so valuable and then we realize that for our spiritual/emotional/family growth and wellbeing, we must sacrifice that thing. 

We all have 10 tests throughout our life. And Reb Nochum tells us that while it is true that we are never explicitly told what our mission is but to the extent that we withstand those tests, to the extent that we muster all of our strength and find people and community that can help us pass our tests, to that extent we will fulfill our mission. And that mission is something which is completely unique to us. Nobody else could accomplish it. This is why when the mishna summarizes Avraham's life in one sentence, it tells us that he passed those tests. Because all of the other things were wonderful but the way that he fulfilled his unique divine mission was by stepping up to the very challenging tests. 

So I return to the scene from the movie. Our retiree realized that he was completely replaceable. So sad. 

But we must remember that even though it is true that professionally, socially and in almost every area of life we are replaceable, there is one area that we are unique and completely irreplaceable. That is our spiritual mission for which we descended to this world. Only we can accomplish it. Only we can fulfill that mission and we do it through realizing those 10 moments in life and stepping up to the challenge. 

Let me conclude with a story. Rabbi Mendel Futerfas was a chabad chasid from Russia. During the soviet regime, he continued to teach torah to children. He was caught and sent to the Siberian Gulag for  14 years. Even though it was freezing and the work was back-breaking, Mendel always walked around with a smile on his face. Mendel had a fellow inmate, a non-jew, who had been a prominent banker before his arrest. One day, the banker asked Mendel, "How can you walk around this awful place with a smile. it is so dreadful here."

Mendel said the following to the banker. "I understand why you are so depressed. Your identity had been completely crushed. Before you came, you were a prominent banker. You loved your work, your wealth and the prestige. Now that you are here, you are an inmate in the Gulag. Your identity has been shattered. But for me, I have the same identity here as I had before my arrest. Before my arrest I was a teacher of Torah and now, perhaps to a different audience, I try to teach Torah. Before my arrest I tried to spread the love of G-d and now I do the same. Before my arrest, I tried to fulfill my divine mission by stepping up to my challenges and now I do the same. So even though it is freezing, the work is so hard and I miss my family, I still walk around with a smile. I am fulfilling my unique mission which only I can fulfill in this world."

We all have a divine mission. That mission is unique to us. Nobody else can do it. I am spiritually irreplaceable and completely indispensable. Lets learn the lesson from Avraham and Sarah. Lets grab those moments and with everything we have step up to our challenges in life. 

Shabbat Shalom.