Wednesday, April 22, 2015

A Roller Coaster of Emotion: The Yom's

We commemorate Yom HaZikaron and immediately celebrate Yom HaAtzmaut just a week after remembering the Holocaust on Yom HaShoah. These days are filled with emotion as they commemorate the two most momentous events in recent Jewish History. I don’t know about you, but this is a roller-coaster of emotion and a lot to process. How can we make sense of this crazy and momentous week?

Here is a story that I think touches all the bases.

Rabbi Yisroel Zev Gustman may have been one of the greatest rabbis of the 20th century that nobody has ever heard of. His meteoric rise from child prodigy to the exalted position of religious judge in the Rabbinical Court of the famed Rabbi Chaim Ozer Grodzinski at the age of 20 was the stuff of legend -- but nonetheless fact. While a long productive career on the outskirts of Vilna could have been anticipated, Jewish life was obliterated by the pain of World War II. Rav Gustman escaped, though not unscathed. He hid among corpses. He hid in caves and under bushes. He hid in a pig pen. He somehow survived.

After the war, and a brief sojourn in America, Rav Gustman became the head of a yeshiva in the Rechavia section of Jerusalem, Netzach Yisrael. He taught a small group of loyal students six days a week. But on Thursdays at noon, the study hall would fill to capacity: Rabbis, intellectuals, religious court judges, a Supreme Court justice and various professors would join along with any and all who sought a high-level Talmud class. When Rav Gustman delivered a lecture, Vilna was once again alive and vibrant.

One of the regular participants was a professor at the Hebrew University, Robert J. (Yisrael) Aumann. Once a promising yeshiva student, he had eventually decided to pursue a career in academia (and was awarded the Nobel Prize in Economics in 2005), but made his weekly participation in Rav Gustman's class part of his schedule. The year was 1982. Once again, Israel was at war. Soldiers were mobilized, reserve units activated. Among those called to duty was a reserves officer, a university student and young father who made his living as a high school teacher: Shlomo Aumann, Professor Aumann's son. On the eve of the 19th of Sivan, in particularly fierce combat, Shlomo fell in battle.

Rav Gustman mobilized his yeshiva to participate in the funeral and burial of the fallen soldier. After the burial, he told his driver, "Take me to Professor Aumann's home."

The family had just returned from the cemetery and would now begin the week of shiva -- mourning for their son, brother, husband and father. Rav Gustman entered and asked to sit next to Professor Auman. He spoke, first in Yiddish and then in Hebrew, so that all those assembled would understand:

"I am sure that you don't know this, but I had a son named Meir. He was a beautiful child. He was taken from my arms and executed. I escaped. I later bartered my child's shoes so that we would have food, and I gave it away to others. My Meir is a kadosh -- he is holy -- he and all the six million who perished are holy."

Rav Gustman then added: "I will tell you what is transpiring now in the World of Truth in Gan Eden -- in Heaven. My Meir is welcoming your Shlomo into the minyan and is saying to him 'I died because I am a Jew -- but I wasn't able to save anyone else. But you -- Shlomo, you died defending the Jewish People and the Land of Israel.' My Meir is a kadosh, he is holy -- but your Shlomo is a Shaliach Zibbur -- a Cantor in that holy, heavenly minyan."

Rav Gustman continued: "I never had the opportunity to sit shiva for my Meir; let me sit here with you just a little longer."

Professor Aumann replied, "I thought I could never be comforted, but Rebbi, you have comforted me."

Rav Gustman and his wife would attend an annual parade held in Jerusalem before Pesach. They would join their fellow spectators and excitedly watch the children march through the streets. When asked by a colleague why he participated in this annual event, he replied, “We who saw a generation of children die will take pleasure in a generation of children who sing and dance in the streets of Jerusalem.”        

Rav Gustman and many others of his generation are the perfect guides for our generation. He and many like him felt a love for the land of Israel, for the people of Israel, and for the heroes of Israel. It is a love we need to make sure to absorb within ourselves.


We need to stop and focus. We need to remember. We need to acknowledge the murder of the innocent and the sacrifice of brave warriors and then celebrate God’s gift of the State of Israel. Am Yisrael Chai!

Monday, April 20, 2015

Baruch Dayan Ha-Emet: Rabbi Dr. Aharon Lichtenstein

The Jewish world mourns the passing of  Rabbi Dr. Aharon Lichtenstein, Senior Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshivat Har Etzion, Rosh Yeshiva at Yeshiva University, and one of the most influential voices in the Orthodox community.  Rav Lichtenstein was a world-renowned Torah scholar, whose classes, writings and personal conduct have served as an inspiration and model to so many in our community and beyond.  (For more information – including a biography, tributes, and Torah classes, please see here.)

The funeral will take place in Israel on, Tuesday April 21, at 10:00 a.m. at Yeshivat Har Etzion in Alon Shevut, followed by burial on Har HaMenuchot in Jerusalem.  Shiva will be observed at Maginei HaGush 48 in Alon Shevut.

Rabbi Lichtenstein, the son-in-law of the late Rabbi Dr. Joseph B. Soloveitchik, is survived by his wife, Dr. Tovah; his children Yitzchak, Moshe, Meir, Shai, Esti, and Tonya; by two sisters, Hadassah Kleiman and Shoshana Lichtenstein; and thousands of disciples throughout the world.

I hope to share some additional reflections in the next few days, but, for now, let me just say that the world has lost a great light in the passing of Rav Lichtenstein.