Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall

by Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

Formed in a cauldron of pain and suffering, a special relationship developed between the Amshinover Rebbe, Rav Shima’le Kalish, and the talmidim of the Mirrer Yeshiva in Europe. Joined together by Hashgachah as they escaped from war-torn Poland, the relationship was reinforced by shared struggles, challenges and remarkable salvation.

On Motzoei Simchas Torah in Shanghai, with the echoes of the spirited Hakafah niggunim still ringing in the ears of the Mirrer talmidim, the Rebbe studied the faces of the Litvishe bochurim. He sensed their unspoken anxiety about the long, cold winter ahead, stretching before them like the train tracks they’d traveled on through the frozen Russian landscape.

The Rebbe saw the winter months as an opportunity, not an obstacle, and searched for a way to convey that point. “Mir hubben yetzt ge’endikt mit di groisse teg, we have concluded the great days,” remarked the Rebbe. “Yetzt kummen di groisse necht, now come the ‘great nights.’”

The Rebbe was referring to the words of the Rambam (Hilchos Talmud Torah 3:13), who says that even though there is a mitzvah to learn Torah day and night, a person acquires the majority of his wisdom at night. Therefore, one who wishes to obtain the crown of Torah should be zealous about his nights and not forfeit even one of them.

The Maharal in his sefer Ner Mitzvah on Chanukah addresses the significance of the 25^th of Kislev, the date upon which Chanukah begins. From Tishrei until this date, the days grow shorter and the amount of darkness increases nightly. On the 25^th of Kislev, the amount of daily light increases, and the length of daily darkness decreases. Therefore, it is fitting, explains the Maharal, that the Mishkon, which signifies light, was completed on this day.

It is therefore that the miracle of Chanukah was performed with light; with the Menorah remaining lit for eight days, since the day on which the Chashmonaim lit the Menorah following their war against the Yevonim, was the day on which light begins to evidence its strength.

We see physical light and study the spiritual qualities of light. As the physical light of the sun increases, so does the potential for the spiritual light we can create through increasing our Torah learning and kedushah.

The Maccabi victory over Yavan was celebrated and consecrated with the miracle of the eight days of light in the Bais Hamikdosh. Metaphors for the eternal battle between good and evil; Yavan resembled darkness and the Maccabis light.

The Maccabi leaders rallied the Jewish people who had become gray from compromise and caused them to see the black and the white. They roused them from their fear of Yavan and what it represented. They motivated them to overcome the meekness in their souls. By example, they showed the few and the weak that if they would expend effort, Hashem would help them prove that even modest light defeats substantial darkness.

Their message remains illustrative until this day. Maintaining crucibles of light and oases of goodness is possible if we remain loyal to the objective and infused with proper faith.

The darkness is complete and total, it seems. The world is darkening and there is danger lurking everywhere. It would seem that we have nowhere to hide and nowhere to turn.

Even after the last dancing light has disappeared and the last night of Chanukah is over, as we face a dark and lonely road, we have the tools to brighten the night.

We can go into a world where everything is warm, bright and happy, singing the song of the night. The flames of the Menorah will light up the way, the fires of the Chashmonaim will burn in our souls, and the darkness of despair will be banished.

The words of the Maharal will provide succor for us as we recognize that the darkness has begun to recede and yield to the light. There is hope if there is faith. The light will gain and so will we, if we follow the words the Amshinover Rebbe uttered during one of the darkest periods in Jewish history. We can cause ourselves to be blessed with a beacon that illuminates the path before us. It worked for him and the survivors in Shanghai, and it can work for us as well.

We possess the ability to live on a higher, elevated plane that is afforded to us every time we sit down by a shtender with a Gemara opened before us.

There is a scene that plays itself out all over. In Yerushalayim, New York, Lakewood or London, it is a timeless image as likely in the shtetlach of old as it is now. It’s nighttime. Rush-hour is over and traffic has eased up. Families all over are sitting and lingering after supper. Hardworking breadwinners relax in their easy chairs, perhaps with a newspaper in hand and slippers on their feet.

In botei medrash across the globe, night seder is beginning. The committed Jew, just like his father and grandfather before him, sighs contentedly as he opens his Gemara, humming the eternal tune of limud haTorah. “Amar Abaye…” A fruitful night is about to begin. A night which stretches back to the day when light was first created; the Mishkon was assembled, and the Chashmonaim emerged victorious. A night connecting to the awful darkness of the Inquisition, pogroms and the Holocaust - which were followed by rebirth and rejuvenation. A night which presents an opportunity to climb the ladder back into the presence of holiness and G-dliness. A night which defeats depression and yei’ush, depravity and mortality, is about to begin. Eternal light, energy, immortality and joy are about to descend into the heart of the Jew as he opens a Gemara and connects with the source of light.

No matter how cold it is outside and how fierce the awful winds are blowing, he remains anchored to a force stronger than any other. Ki ner mitzvah veTorah ohr. The mitzvos are compared to a candle and the Torah to light, for they light up our paths, brightening the pervading darkness. They ground us and provide depth and internal fortitude in a world mired in superficiality.

Last week, I had the occasion to be in the Palisades Mall on Thursday night. There was a line of hundreds of people leading to a store. We went to check it out. Perhaps there was something exciting going on there. The store at which the people were lined up was Foot Locker. We looked inside, trying to get a clue of what the commotion was all about. There were a couple of policemen at the door and security people milling about with the crowd. The store itself was basically empty, with a few salesmen helping customers with purchases. Something was strange, so we asked one of the policemen what was going on. He explained that the people were waiting to be the first to purchase a new sneaker that would be put on sale at midnight.

I later read that the scene replayed itself all across the country. Thousands of people lined up to buy the new sneaker. There were reports of violence, beatings, shootings and the like as people in line grew impatient.

I told my children that this was a lesson in real life for them regarding the emptiness of the life of a person who doesn’t have the blessings of Torah and mitzvos. It is doubtful if any of them needed new sneakers, as they surely could have managed with what they were wearing without standing on line for hours to pay $180 for a pair boasting a coveted designer name. Through the power of advertising and peer pressure, thousands of people across this great country felt that their lives would not be complete if they could not be among the first to possess a certain sneaker.

“You see right in front of your eyes the truth of the shmuessen of the mashgichim, that life without Torah is empty,” I said to my children. “It is not an exaggeration.”

Indeed, these peoples’ days are dark, consumed by choshech. We pity them and the blank looks in their eyes as they stand there seeking to fill the hollowness of their lives.

As we approach the cold, dark days of winter, without the benefit of any Yomim Tovim to intervene, we can keep ourselves warm, blessed, and neither lacking anything nor wanting superfluous superficiality if we hew to the path of Torah. It’s not a cliché. It’s the truth. If you don’t believe me, just ask those thousands of people who waited hours on line for a pair of Air Jordan sneakers, how happy they are. Then go ask the people humming to themselves as they work their way through a shvere sugya.

Ashreinu mah tov chelkeinu. Winter, spring, summer and fall.

Of Battles and Miracles

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

A story is told about an American tourist who went to visit a Yerushalmi Yid. Upon entering the humble apartment, the tourist found him in an exalted state. The visitor asked him why he was so full of joy. The Yerushalmi answered him with a twinkle in his eye. "Didn’t you hear?" he asked. "Moshiach is here in Yerushalayim. Of course I’m besimcha."

The visitor was a real tourist type. He left the old Yerushalmi’s apartment and ran to the Kosel. He thought that if Moshiach was in Yerushalayim, the best place to find him would be at the Kosel. He got there and looked around, but was stunned when everything seemed regular. He looked at everyone there. No one impressed him as being the Moshiach whom Klal Yisroel has been awaiting for centuries. Quite upset, he returned to the Yerushalmi and told him that he went to the Kosel looking for Moshiach and couldn’t find him.

"Where is he?" asked the tourist. "Where would he be if not at the place that the Shechinah hasn’t departed from?"

The Yerushalmi looked at his fellow Jew and said with a smile, "You don’t look for Moshiach. He looks for you. You have to prepare yourself for him so that when he comes, you will be worthy of redemption. Achakeh lo bechol yom sheyavo. Part of the wait, part of longing for Moshiach, is to be a true ben chorin. A ben chorin, a free person, is one who busies himself studying Torah and having it influence and mold his character."

Chanukah is a Yom Tov that celebrates this idea. It is a time when we celebrate the Chashmonaim and their mesirus nefesh for kedushah. They didn’t go looking for the person who would lead the charge against Yavan. With mesirus nefesh, they rose up to throw off the forces of darkness from the nation that was having its light source blocked. They were the me’atim, the tzaddikim, the tehorim, the people who were osek baTorah, ki ner mitzvah veTorah ohr, but they were not meyayeish.

Too often, we look for others to do our work. We look in the wrong places for saviors and salvation from our problems, not knowing that we have to perfect ourselves and that the solution is within us. If we improve ourselves and make ourselves worthy, we can beat back all those who torment us and all that afflicts us, even if it is the most powerful nation and philosophy on earth, much as the Greeks were in the days of the Chashmonaim.

There is a discussion in the Acharonim if the mitzvah of zeh Keili ve’anveihu, to beautify mitzvos, applies to having a nice menorah. The menorah itself is not the actual cheftzah of the mitzvah, as the mitzvah pertains to the materials that are necessary for the lighting, namely the oil and the wicks. The Mishnah Berurah (672:2) rules that everyone should endeavor to obtain the nicest menorah and best lights he can.

Perhaps we can suggest that even if you believe that the rule of beautifying mitzvos only applies to the act of the mitzvah itself, the custom of beautifying the menorah is almost universal, for that is in the spirit of the Chashmonaim: to go beyond the metzuveh. They fought the Yevanim even though, technically, they had no chance to win, and perhaps there was no obligation for them to go to battle under those conditions.

The Medrash Maaseh Chanukah relates that "Matisyahu Kohein Gadol said to the Chashmonaim, ‘Boruch hagever asher som baHashem mivtacho. My seven sons and I will join with you and your three sons… I have complete faith that Hashem will perform miracles for us and that we will be able to beat the Yevanim.’ They fasted and begged Hashem for mercy… and proceeded to do battle."

While analysis of how he was permitted to place himself and the others in danger when we have a rule that we do not rely on miracles is beyond the scope of our discussion here, the fact remains that Matisyahu and the Chashmonaim went beyond what was called for in order to preserve Am Yisroel and their devotion to Torah.

And when Hashem caused them to win the war, they could have lit the menorah with oil that was defiled, for the din is that tumah hutrah betzibbur. It would have been halachically permissible to light with oil that was found in the Bais Hamikdosh, even if it did not have a tahor stamp on it.

Nevertheless, after such mesirus nefesh, they weren’t prepared to settle for the minimum. The Chashmonaim who went to war to preserve the kedushah of Am Yisroel weren’t about to light the menorah with oil that wasn’t tahor betachlis hahiddur.

Thus, we can suggest that we go to great expense to commemorate the actions of kohanecha hakedoshim and the nissim that were performed for them by being mehadeir in the menorah as well as in the oil and wicks, for there is no greater hiddur perhaps than beatifying the mitzvah even when there is no obligation to do so.

Klal Yisroel didn’t feel itself strong enough to throw off the yoke of Greek tyranny until Matisyahu rose up and inspired them. Today, as in those days, forces of evil are able to prosper because people of goodwill cannot come together to topple them. Murderous tyrants can be toppled, as we have seen. What it requires is a man of courage who can no longer take it. People rally to him, and the momentum they create is able to restore the forces of light and justice.

The miracle of Chanukah that we celebrate is primarily that of the tiny flask which burned longer than was thought to be realistically possible. The menorah’s lights signify that the power of light overcame the power of darkness. The oil lasting longer than one day signifies that if you expend the effort and work bemesirus nefesh, physical rules will not apply.

The miraculous military victory over Yavan is a dramatic example of how the laws of nature are suspended when dedicated souls join together and enable light to triumph over darkness. That reversal of the natural order in their day was made possible by the great mesirus nefesh demonstrated by Matisyahu and his followers.

That victory was of the same type that brought about the miracle of the pach shemen. A small amount of oil, which according to its physical and chemical characteristics could only burn for one day, burned for as long as was necessary, just as the forces of good, though outmatched by evil in terms of numbers and strength, thoroughly eviscerated the forces of darkness.

We see wrongs in our world and are told that there is nothing we can do about it. We try to right the wrongs and are mocked. Yet, in fact, if you look around, there are so many people who overcame the odds, building Torah where no one thought it was possible, restoring lives others had given up on, and fighting abuse which people thought was part of life. We see teachers touching souls and impacting them forever. We see righteous men and women not taking no for an answer, standing up to an apathetic society and awakening their consciences. We see people rallying to fight for those wronged by an out-of-control justice system, and we cheer them on, hoping that they will succeed against all odds.

We see people working with selfless dedication and are amazed that it is as if logic and the laws of nature don’t apply to them. They tread where no one has dared step before, and they succeed where lesser people vow that success is absolutely impossible.

They are the heroes of our people. They have changed a desolate land and caused a desert of assimilation to bloom with Torah. It is those heroes who have heard the call of the Chashmonaim. They have been the shluchim for the rebirth of our people decades after we were nearly wiped out. They have succeeded in greater fashion than anyone thought possible, blessed with siyata diShmaya reserved for those who work bemesirus nefesh leSheim Shomayim.

That is why the neis of Chanukah is celebrated by kindling lights in our homes facing the street. That is why the mitzvah is to light the menorah as soon as sundown begins and darkness starts spreading across the sky.

That is why the shiur that Chazal gave for the duration of the lights is "ad shetichleh regel min hashuk"; the lights of the Chanukah menorah should remain lit as long as there are people out on the street.

As long as people are out in the public thoroughfare, we need to remind them of the miracle. We need to prominently remind them not to yield to the temptations of darkness.

"Don’t surrender to defeatism," we call out to them. "Don’t regard what you do as being inconsequential. Remember that Matisyahu started out as one lonely man of faith, with the powerful Greeks and most of his own people against him. Because he did not let defeatism overtake him, the Yevanim and Misyavnim were conquered and the forces of good prevailed."

We gather our families around us and light the menorah to proclaim that Hashem felled the mighty, the many and the evil. They were demolished by the weak, the few, the just and the holy.

Hashem had mercy on us and fought our battles, causing the zeidim to fall into the hands of the oskei Torah. We sing songs of thanksgiving and Hallel, and we remind ourselves that, in our day as well, the Yevanim, in other guises, continually attempt to trap and kill us.

We have to be ever vigilant, for the forces of Hellenism are ever present. They cloak themselves in the guise of enlightenment and intellectual purity as they accost us with cleverly worded propaganda to curb our growth and poison the way people view us.

In our day, the modern Yevanim hide behind the power of the pen, the web, blogs and populist demagoguery to attack us. Misyavnim offer wild accusations to back up their unfounded charges. The more growth our community experiences, the more scorn the Misyavnim heap upon us.

The menorah and the Yom Tov of Chanukah remind us that we should not hesitate to defend Torah and mitzvos. The lights of the menorah proclaim to us to seek out the people who carry the flag of Torah and the Matisyahu ben Yochanan Kohein Gadols of our day and rally around them.

During the Gaza War which Israel fought four years ago, Lev L’Achim waged its own war. Schools in the line of fire in the country’s southern region were closed, as the rocket-fire was too fierce. Several intrepid Ashdod yungeleit traveled to Ashkelon and set up shop in a basement bomb shelter. They dispensed warmth, pizza and Torah. Local teenagers were so bored that they came and were intrigued. When the war ended and normal life resumed, these kids were still interested, so the yungeleit continued coming, creating a small afternoon bais medrash in Ashkelon.

Slowly, they had some real talmidim, and finally they finished a masechta with the secular teenagers. On Chanukah, the talmidim, accompanied by their Lev L’Achim rabbeim, went to celebrate the siyum at the home of Rav Aharon Leib Shteinman. The aged gadol was very moved by the sight of the teenagers in his home proclaiming, "Hadran alach," to the first masechta they had learned.

As the siyum ended, one of the boys asked Rav Shteinman for a bracha. He asked that the resistance of his parents to his Torah study weaken. "In fact," he told the rosh yeshiva, "if they knew where I was now, they would be furious. I told them that I was going to play soccer."

Rav Shteinman said to the boy, "You have answered a question of mine. Why, in Al Hanissim, do we thank Hashem for the milchamos? War is a necessary evil, as people get killed and hurt, and lives are destroyed. Why do we thank Hashem for the war, when, in fact, we should just be thanking Him for the nissim and niflaos?

"But now, I have a new understanding. It is for milchamos such as yours - the wars waged by these determined teenagers - that we thank Hashem!"

We all have our personal battles and wars, and to the extent that we win them, we recite Al Hanissim, thanking Hashem for providing us with the wherewithal to overcome and persevere.

As we light the menorah, we remember to use our abilities to spread goodness and kindness in this world. We appreciate the kochos that Hashem blessed us with and acknowledge that we can accomplish greatness if we try hard enough. Read the fascinating interview in this paper with Rav Ben Zion Kook about Rav Yosef Shalom Elyashiv to see what man is capable of if he sets his heart to learning.

If we dedicate ourselves with mesirus nefesh to being bnei chorin and making the world worthy of the geulah, Moshiach will reveal himself shortly and return the Bais Hamikdosh, its kedushah, its avodah and the menorah. Amein.

Mazel Tov Chinuch Roundtable

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

You have to feel bad for Mitt Romney.

He did everything right, working assiduously for half a decade, with scores of handlers, pollsters, wordsmiths, schedulers and volunteers behind him. His campaign is well-equipped and expertly managed, and he has looked on comfortably as a long stream of Republican candidate wannabes rose and then fell. Victory seemed inevitable for the well-spoken, immaculate former governor. All he was waiting for was the coronation, which would begin January 3^rd in Iowa and culminate at the Republican National Convention in sweltering Tampa at the end of August.

But at the very last minute, just as he began to feel Iowa and New Hampshire victories fall into his lap and the nomination within touching distance, Romney was suddenly upended. By whom? The fellow derided by every single mainstream publication and pundit as unsuited for leadership, and by some as mean and vindictive. They gave him zero chance of winning anything, or climbing out of the single digits in poll popularity. Newt Gingrich’s rise happened so fast, and so unexpectedly, that the commentariat is tripping over itself in its haste to decry his personal shortcomings and lack of qualifications, reminding us all that he was driven out of his position as Speaker of the House.

How did this happen and what does it teach us?

It’s because Newt speaks, as they say, tzum zach, reaching over the heads of the media and addressing people in a straightforward and honest manner. In debate after debate, as the well-crafted statements of the others fall flat, his candid, unapologetic talk has reached the hearts of the American people. He demonstrates a keen understanding and brilliance, coupled with a man-of-the-street charming ability to say the plain truth in a way people can accept and relate to.

His meteoric rise stems from a rare ability to understand issues that confront America in a historic context. He grasps real problems and understands their repercussions, explaining and reacting to them in a way unmatched by his peers.

At the most recent debate, as he discussed his comment that the Palestinians are an "invented people," he displayed a steely ability to say the truth and not be cowed by worries about how the intelligentsia will look at what he said, nor by what handlers will say or by whether it is politically correct. He just said the truth in a most intelligent fashion.

We know that the Palestinians are a fictitious people invented by the same Egyptian Arab, Yasser Arafat, who invented modern terror. It was and is an overblown myth bought into, hook, line and sinker, by a world that has no use for Jews. Careful staging and brilliant public relations brought on by repeated grizzly acts of terror created a feel of a genuine, oppressed people. Gingrich had the temerity to see through the smoke and mirrors, calling them what they are: fictitious.

His response in this instance reflects his approach. Unlike the others who crowd the Republican field, he doesn’t deliver canned, rehearsed, poll-tested responses to questions.

And strangely enough, Americans, it seems, have had enough of sound bites and phony politicians. Republicans, at least, have had enough of well-coiffed media darlings who speak empty words. They want a real person, who offers real solutions and is able to understand and explain the issues Americans face in their daily struggles.

That, it appears, is Newt Gingrich, and that is why he is emerging as the leader.

His rise to the top has relevance to us in our world, on many levels.

Our communities, and particularly the chinuch community and the mosdos haTorah, face a relentless stream of spiteful and petty attacks from haters and scoffers, who use their electronic and wooden podiums to spew traditional sinas am haaretz letalmid chochom.

A favorite accusation of theirs is that our world - our mosdos and their leaders - are out of touch. The attackers, sitting at computer screens and poking out angry diatribes, are in touch, apparently. The naysayers, protected by anonymity and the luxury of not being in decision-making positions themselves, are able to lob grenades at those who have dedicated their lives to impacting the world for good.

Today’s generation of mechanchim is comprised of leaders and heroes, who confront and address real issues in a real way. Their motive is to enhance what is good and true as they transmit our glorious heritage, way of life and Torah to the next generation.

This week, the Yated celebrates the publication of the 200^th Chinuch Roundtable column. Two hundred weeks of real issues, being dealt with by real people, offering real solutions.

And getting real results.

Today, more and more, mechanchim represent the best and brightest of our world. They are men and women of high qualifications and accomplishments who have dedicated their lives to a job - a calling, actually - that requires more time than they have, along with tremendous stamina, yet is so short on financial compensation. The mosdos they lead are engaged in a constant search for more, always looking to be better and to meet the needs of additional children and families.

The dedicated and gifted members of the Chinuch Roundtable are mechanchim who are stopped by people they know, and those they don’t, at chasunos and in the grocery store, for advice and their opinion. Many of them carry the burdens not just of talmidim, but also of crushing budgets, and are left with little or no free time. They work long days and late nights. Our moderator tells me how so many of the responses to the weekly question arrive in the hours when most of the world is fast asleep.

Yet, they see a bigger picture.

It is the same picture that is played out in the parshiyos of Sefer Bereishis, which we are currently laining, as each of the avos attempts to pass on their Torah and knowledge of Hashem to the next generation.

There is a fascinating, if puzzling, exchange in the parsha we just read.

When Eisav confronted Yaakov after not seeing him for many years and observed his large family, he asked his brother, "Mi eileh loch? Who are these?"

Yaakov answered, "Hayelodim asher chonan Elokim ess avdecha - They are the children Hashem has graced me with."

Rashi explains Eisav’s question as, "Mi eileh lihiyos shelcha? Who are they to be yours?"

What a strange question. If you see a man walking with women and children, isn’t it obvious that they are his family?

An explanation that is offered is that there was a perpetual battle between Yaakov and Eisav. Their difference of opinion, in fact, spanned the ages and exists today. Yaakov opted for the next world, for Olam Haba and nitzchiyus, while Eisav wanted Olam Hazeh, this world, the here and now.

The nachalas shnei olamos was forever divided. The epic divide between Yaakov and Eisav was formed when they negotiated over a bowl of lentils.

Yaakov wanted one world. Eisav desired the other. As an ish sadeh, Eisav wanted his field. Yaakov, the epitome of the yoshev ohalim, was living on a higher plane, as he reached for the intangible.

Eisav let the bechorah go, because, as he said, "hinai anochi holech lamus." Why do I need things that aren’t relevant to this world? I have no value for things I can’t see or touch.

But now, upon seeing Yaakov and his family for the first time, Eisav witnessed the joy and fulfillment of a father in the company of his family, his wife and his children. He confronted Yaakov and said, "This type of enjoyment is pure pleasure. It’s Olam Hazeh. So how does it come to you? Olam Hazeh is my province. Mi eileh lihiyos shelcha?"

Yaakov responded to Eisav that he was in error. He said that the beautiful children Eisav was jealous of were given to him by Hakadosh Boruch Hu - chanan Elokim - for a higher purpose - not merely for enjoyment, but for nitzchiyus, for perpetuation of the Divine creed.

Children, and generations, are part of something much bigger than us, and being part of the world of chinuch is brushing eternity.

Our children are part of something bigger. They carry forth the mesorah from parents, grandparents and great-grandparents back to Yaakov Avinu, who lived with the attitude that they were bearers of a regal tradition and charged with a mandate to create generations for Hashem. Children, they recognized, are a "matnas chinam," an undeserved gift, from Him, for Olam Haba, for nitzchiyus.

The Chinuch Roundtable column appears in this newspaper each week, be’ezras Hashem. The questions selected for the review of our distinguished panelists are scrutinized to ensure that they meet the standards of the newspaper and are relevant to our readers and the chinuch community. But there is something the reader doesn’t know or see.

There are many questions that are submitted that cannot be used, for various reasons. These questions also reflect the confusion, doubt, and, all too often, pain of dedicated parents. Just because they cannot be published does not mean that they are heartlessly deleted, with the parent or child left to deal with a pressing issue by themselves. In such situations, the moderator and publisher determine which panelist would best be able to deal with that question, and the email is forwarded to him to deal with it personally, responding to the hurting parents and helping them with their dilemma.

Our panelists get nothing in return, except the satisfaction of helping people. They make themselves available because they are real. In their offices, they see all sorts of problems and issues, but they don’t merely issue statements and assurances that they will deal with them. They roll up their sleeves and confront the problems, one at a time, dealing with them honestly and candidly, and addressing them with courage, optimism and faith.

In these pages, the Chinuch Roundtable panelists have offered straight talk about pressing and relevant issues. They’ve discussed resentment amongst parents and administrators regarding tuition. They’ve spoken about the poor state of the general studies departments in too many schools. They’ve dissected the disconnect that many working fathers experience in our current system and the burdens placed on working mothers. They have demanded accountability and, unlike the weak and anxious bloggers, their names are right next to their words as they unapologetically tackle real issues.

And, unseen by the rest of the world, they work privately with so many other desperate questioners, offering advice, time and encouragement, not just in print and by the podium, but in private, exhibiting traits of true leadership.

So, as we celebrate the accomplishments of those unafraid to talk straight, we applaud them, thank them and wish them the strength and ability to continue in their avodas hakodesh, unimpeded by financial pressures or other obstacles.

My rebbi Rav Elya Svei zt"l would quote the words of Chazal who teach that when confronted by aishes Potifar, Yosef Hatzaddik’s defenses had crumbled. He almost succumbed to the nisayon, when "herah lo demus deyukno shel aviv." This is usually understood to mean that when he thought of succumbing to sin, he saw the image of his father’s face in front of him and he drew back.

Rav Elya would relate an explanation in the name of a chassidishe rebbe, who explained that Chazal mean that the face that Yosef saw which prevented him from sinning was not that of his father, but rather, Yosef Hatzaddik observed the reflection of his own face the way it appeared to Yaakov. He remembered how Yaakov would look at him, and that is what prevented him from sinning. He contemplated how his father, Yaakov, had looked at him - with pride, love, hope and confidence - and, thus strengthened, he rose above the nisayon.

Rav Elya would say that we must look at each child in a way that imbues them with the knowledge that they are capable of greatness and that there are high expectations for them. They should be viewed in a way that creates a demus deyukno.

A child who understands that someone believes in them is more likely to excel and lead a blessed, accomplished life than children who perceive themselves as viewed with a face and look of negativity and derision. Same goes for adults, by the way.

What makes the members of our chinuch panel extraordinary is not only that they give of their time to share wisdom and experience. It’s also that they don’t approach problems with an air of negativity and pessimism by dumping on the children of today. In fact, their approach is quite the opposite. Their advice is laced with confidence and faith in every Jew - each child, each person, each father and each mother.

Leadership isn’t earned simply through ambition or careful preparation, but necessitates the readiness to face real issues and confront them, head-on, intelligently, forthrightly and honestly. That is true in the general world and in our world as well.

And to those in our camp who step up, we are eternally grateful.

A Struggle For the Ages

By Rabbi Pichos Lipschutz

We read the news and fret. Seeing what is going on in the world, we cannot blame the pessimists who see wide-ranging conspiracies. We cannot laugh at those who feel as if the world is about to blow up. They fear that the euro will become worthless, economic malaise will overwhelm Europe, and it will spread to the rest of the world. America will become awash in a sea of red ink, unemployment will increase, taxes will rise, health insurance will become unaffordable, the Postal Service will close, and, worst of all, Barack Obama will be reelected and get even with Israel and the Jews for Binyomin Netanyahu’s arrogant intransigence in refusing to accept his plan for the division of Eretz Yisroel.

They are afraid that America will never be the same. It will sink into a quagmire from which no one will be able to rescue it. The bulwark of democracy and capitalism will become a beachhead of socialism as it descends into finality as a failed state. They see radical Islam on a victorious crusade across Northern Africa and worry about what it will mean for Israel in particular and for Jews and freedom-lovers the world over.

In actuality, it’s nothing new. Shlomo Hamelech, the wisest man, proclaimed many centuries ago, "Ein kol chodosh tachas hashomesh - There is nothing new under the sun."

The Ramban writes in his hakdamah to Parshas Vayishlach that the parsha "was written to show that Hashem saved his servant from someone stronger than him… The parsha contains a hint for future generations, for all that transpired between our forefather Yaakov and Eisav will happen to us with Eisav’s children, and it is fitting for us to go in the path of the tzaddik (Yaakov)." Vayishlach is in fact a parsha which helps guide our lives in golus. The Gemara discusses how the chachomim who traveled to Rome for negotiations and deliberations with the incumbent political leadership learned this parsha prior to setting out on their precarious journeys. In order to succeed in their missions on behalf of the Jewish people ruled by the Romans, they studied the first encounter between Yaakov as an av and Eisav as a force in his own right. The lessons learned from the exchange between Yaakov and Eisav guided the chachomim in their interactions with Eisav’s offspring.

The Maharal (Derech Chaim 5) teaches that the experiences of each of the three avos parallel different periods in Jewish history. Yaakov, he says, corresponds to our final golus, Edom. In his words, "the golus will be very long and, at the End of Days, the golus will disappear and everything will be good." Just as Yaakov Avinu traveled a difficult, dark path until he tasted peace, so will his descendants travel a lengthy golus before the eventual simchas olam, eternal peace and joy.Even a cursory reading of the account of Yaakov Avinu’s struggle with the malach, the sar of Eisav, affects us. We somehow sense that in these pesukim lies the secret to a destiny that would prove to be one long struggle, an enduring battle between the forces of kedushah and tumah, good and evil. It’s the battle that defines our mission, both as individuals and as a nation, always forced to fight for what’s right and pure.

Beyond that, there is also a bigger picture and a bigger plan. Chazal uncover layers of depth and significance to that fight, with nuances that hint at different mitzvos or periods in history.As the battle winds down, the posuk relates that Eisav’s malach said that he has to leave, as the sun was about to rise. Rashi explains, based upon the Gemara in Maseches Chullin, that Eisav’s malach had to say shirah that day and, with the day about to dawn, he had to return. We were taught as children that he begged Yaakov to release him, since he’d waited from the beginning of time for his turn to sing before his Maker. We understood that it just happened to work out that way, with the epic battle taking place on the night before he was slated to sing.

Rav Chaim Soloveitchik understood the malach’s request on a higher level. He explained that it wasn’t mere happenstance that the malach would be singing shirah that day. The song of a creature is sung when he fulfills and achieves his mission. Shirah takes place when shleimus has been achieved. The destiny for the malach, the sar of Eisav, the yeitzer hara, is to struggle with the forces of good - and lose. His job is to provide the challenge for the good to overcome evil and emerge triumphant.

Until that fateful night, the malach of evil had not fulfilled his shlichus, for each and every time, the power of tov was unable to overcome him. Everything in this world is created for kavod Shomayim. As long as the angel’s actions didn’t bring about kavod Hashem, he had not achieved the purpose he was created for and could not sing shirah.

When Yaakov Avinu was victorious, the malach’s destiny was realized. He had fought hard, but the koach of good had won. He was now worthy of singing the shiras Hashem, because he had lost, and that was his tafkid.Often, we are confronted by obstacles and hindrances. We are ready to give up and permit the forces of evil which torment us to win. Sometimes, people think that they are doomed, with no way out. Survival becomes a daily battle. However, if we summon our inner strengths, we will find resources of stamina, vitality and vigor to keep on going, just as Yaakov did back then.

There is a plan and a mission inherent in the struggle and we must be cognizant of this fact. We proceed, for at the end, as the Maharal says, the darkness will disappear and we’ll see the good.

The parsha recounts (35:21) that following the passing of Rochel Imeinu, Yaakov and his sons traveled on, setting up camp near Migdal Eider, where they enjoyed a rare moment of tranquility and relative quiet. The Targum Yonasan Ben Uziel writes that this place, "meiholah leMigdal Eider," is the location from where "Moshiach will reveal himself."

The aspect of maaseh avos siman labonim carries through here as well. Yaakov’s rest symbolizes our respite from the bitterness and pain of golus. After the battles, after the wars, after enduring the chicanery of Lavan and the depravity of Eisav, Yaakov merits some tranquility. And so shall we.

This week, many years ago, an American bochur walked into a shtiebel in Yerushalayim to daven Minchah. An old Yerushalmi Yid with a twinkle in his eye called him over.

"Ich hub far eich ah kasha. I have a question for you," he said. "The posuk says that Yaakov was victorious over the malach of Eisav and was given a new name, Yisroel, in honor of his triumph.

"But," asked the wizened Yerushalmi, "how can we say Yaakov won? He was left bruised and limping, while the malach ascended to Heaven to sing shirah. Doesn’t it seem like the malach was the victor and Yaakov the loser?"

The Yid thought for a moment and continued.

"Amerikaneh bochur’l, listen to the answer and remember it: When there is a dispute about an ideology, the one who hits first is the loser. If one of the debaters raises his hand and smacks the other, it’s a sign that he can no longer match his opponent with intellect and facts, so he has to hit. When the malach struck Yaakov, he was in fact conceding defeat. He was saying that Yaakov had triumphed!"

The Jewish road is strewn with obstacles, and that is the biggest testimony that ours is the path to victory. They keep hitting, they keep striking, but their blows are ones of defeat.

We don’t hit back. We keep marching on, secure that there’s a plan.

"Bikeish Yaakov leisheiv beshalvah." Yaakov Avinu seemed destined for a life of constant travail. He was forced to contend with Eisav and then escaped his murderous wrath. He toiled in learning for fourteen years, depriving himself of sleep throughout. His journey continued with Elifaz robbing him of everything he owned. He went on to face Lavan’s wiliness and greed. It never ended for him, as each day brought a new round of trouble, sad news, and daunting nisyonos.Instead of growing despondent and asking, "Why me?" Yaakov looked at each new day as a fresh opportunity to learn more Torah, establish a holy family, and toil in the vineyard of Hashem following his father and grandfather. Thus, he was successful in what he did, fulfilling his mission as he prospered and prevailed.

Obstacles, as Rav Chaim taught, have a mission of their own, to be beaten down with bitachon and steady, unwavering avodah. We look around and see the gloomy news coming from every direction. There are militants and madmen eying tiny Eretz Yisroel through their gun-sights, ready to pull the trigger at the slightest provocation. We see despots and dictators arming themselves with nuclear weapons, laughingly threatening to obliterate us and our people. And we worry.

Right here, in New York and New Jersey, the horrific emblems of seventy-five years ago have resurfaced, with broken, shattered glass serving as a haunting reminder of the darkest time in recent memory.

The avak, the dust, of the struggle is everywhere, making it difficult to see clearly.

Rav Mordechai Shulman, the late rosh yeshiva of the Slabodka Yeshiva in Bnei Brak, was a close talmid of the Chofetz Chaim. He would tell stories that demonstrated the ruach hakodesh of the Chofetz Chaim. He said that during the years of World War I, the Chofetz Chaim carried the pain of Klal Yisroel in his heart. With the Jewish people suffering terribly, he was beside himself, as he offered his pure tefillos and brachos to lighten the gezeiros.

Since Rav Mordechai spoke and read the Russian language, he was given the job of reading the daily Russian newspaper to his rebbi and translating it into Yiddish, so that the Chofetz Chaim would be apprised of the day’s developments.

Rav Mordechai recounted that, every day, he was amazed anew, for as he began to read the news to the Chofetz Chaim, his rebbi would complete the account, down to the last detail, as if he’d already heard it. He said that it was impossible for the Chofetz Chaim to have heard the news from anyone else, and there was no way he could have read the newspaper on his own, for he was not able to.

Rav Shulman related that his astonishment was lessened years later when he saw an explanation from the Vilna Gaon on the words we say during Shacharis that the malachim stand each morning "umashmi’im beyirah yachad bekol divrei Elokim Chaim uMelech Olam." In Heaven, the angels sing out that which they hear from their King.

The Vilna Gaon explains that this means that the song of the angels is comprised of the events - the encounters, developments and happenings - that have been decreed for the day ahead. Every day, the malachim are mashmia bekol the words of Hashem as they impact the occurrences of the coming day.

Heaven is filled with the sound of what will yet be. "And," Rav Mordechai remarked, "I am certain that, every day, the Chofetz Chaim heard the sod siach sarfei kodesh of the malachim discussing what Hashem did and was going to do in His world."

The Chofetz Chaim was privy to that song, said Rav Mordechai, so of course he knew what had happened each day, as he had heard the call of the malachim.The story is astounding in what it teaches us about the way of the world and what it says about the greatness of the pure and holy tzaddikim. Everything that happens - the good, the bad and the fearsome, the anti-Semitic rants and attacks, and the calls of hate and aggression - is announced each morning in Heaven, passed on from angel to angel. It is all part of a plan. The Divine Plan.

Reb Yosef Friedenson is a most eloquent voice who has made it his mission to teach our generation about what existed before the Holocaust, as well as the heroism and self-sacrifice demonstrated amidst the suffering and devastation during World War II. His memories tell the story of Klal Yisroel in exile. They are recollections that reflect the experiences of Yaakov Avinu in his own golus.

Reb Yosef shares the memory of standing in a crowded square, as the Nazis, yemach shemom, were herding Jews together, barking orders at them. Reb Yosef’s father, a learned man, spontaneously addressed the gathered Yidden. He began by quoting the pesukim in Sefer Yeshaya, perek 14, which contain the words of the novi in response to the arrogance of Nevuchadnetzar:"For you said to yourself, ‘I will ascend to heaven and set my throne above G-d’s stars. I will preside on the mountain of the gods far away in the north. I will climb to the highest heavens and be like the Most High.’ But instead, you will be brought down to the place of the dead, down to its lowest depths. Everyone there will stare at you and ask, ‘Can this be the one who shook the earth and the kingdoms of the world?’"

The pesukim relate how the mightiest and most arrogant of armies will eventually fall. Even their rise, we are told, is stained with hints of a dark future.

Ultimately, the darkness passed and the feared Nazis fell.

When he relates his recollections and thoughts, Reb Yosef remarks, "On that fortuitous day, when we watched the Nazis march out with their arms raised above their heads, being prodded and pushed by the guns of the liberating armies, we wondered aloud, ‘Are these the soldiers from whom we had such fear? Are these the fearful oppressors of yesterday?’

"Just as my father said, just as the novi said. The darkness, the light, it’s all part of the pattern of Jewish history."

More recently, people who were the embodiment of evil, such as Saddam Hussein, Muammar Gaddafi and Osama bin Laden, were like wounded animals at their end, when they were found by those seeking justice. The men whom the entire world feared were humbled and degraded. They were exposed to the whole world as small, scared people, a very different impression than the legendary aura they seemed to possess while they were in power.

It was difficult to believe that these people ever had any strength of their own. In fact, they didn’t. They were players in a Divine plot. They were tools of Hashem to somehow create kavod Shomayim in ways yet to be seen. When their mission was completed, the strength and guile they had been granted in order to complete their jobs were taken from them and they returned to the afar min ha’adamah that they essentially were.

The pattern of Yisroel bein ha’amim is symbolized by the struggle between Yaakov and the sar of Eisav, which ended when the sun rose. The Torah reports, "Vayizrach lo hashemesh, vehu tzoleiah al yereicho - The sun rose and Yaakov was limping." The limp reminded him of the travails he had experienced and overcome. But the sun was shining. "Al kein lo yochlu Bnei Yisroel es gid hanosheh." Therefore, we don’t eat the gid hanosheh, which the sar of Eisav had injured. By not eating it, we remind ourselves until this very day that the torment we endure is a sign of strength and victory. They can’t beat us with the force of argument and veracity, so they hurt us, enslave us, break our windows, and call us demeaning names. We are reminded that it is a sign of strength to be hounded and persecuted, as we have been throughout the ages. We are pained in our lives, as private people and as a tzibbur. We are tested again and again. Our enemies are weak and impotent, and we have the wounds to prove it.

We are reminded that "vayizrach lo hashemesh."

Near Migdal Eider, Moshiach waits to reveal himself. May he do so bemeheirah beyomeinu. Amein.

We read the news and fret. Seeing what is going on in the world, we cannot blame the pessimists who see wide-ranging conspiracies. We cannot laugh at those who feel as if the world is about to blow up. They fear that the euro will become worthless, economic malaise will overwhelm Europe, and it will spread to the rest of the world. America will become awash in a sea of red ink, unemployment will increase, taxes will rise, health insurance will become unaffordable, the Postal Service will close, and, worst of all, Barack Obama will be reelected and get even with Israel and the Jews for Binyomin Netanyahu’s arrogant intransigence in refusing to accept his plan for the division of Eretz Yisroel.

They are afraid that America will never be the same. It will sink into a quagmire from which no one will be able to rescue it. The bulwark of democracy and capitalism will become a beachhead of socialism as it descends into finality as a failed state. They see radical Islam on a victorious crusade across Northern Africa and worry about what it will mean for Israel in particular and for Jews and freedom-lovers the world over.

In actuality, it’s nothing new. Shlomo Hamelech, the wisest man, proclaimed many centuries ago, "Ein kol chodosh tachas hashomesh - There is nothing new under the sun."

The Ramban writes in his hakdamah to Parshas Vayishlach that the parsha "was written to show that Hashem saved his servant from someone stronger than him… The parsha contains a hint for future generations, for all that transpired between our forefather Yaakov and Eisav will happen to us with Eisav’s children, and it is fitting for us to go in the path of the tzaddik (Yaakov)." Vayishlach is in fact a parsha which helps guide our lives in golus. The Gemara discusses how the chachomim who traveled to Rome for negotiations and deliberations with the incumbent political leadership learned this parsha prior to setting out on their precarious journeys. In order to succeed in their missions on behalf of the Jewish people ruled by the Romans, they studied the first encounter between Yaakov as an av and Eisav as a force in his own right. The lessons learned from the exchange between Yaakov and Eisav guided the chachomim in their interactions with Eisav’s offspring.

The Maharal (Derech Chaim 5) teaches that the experiences of each of the three avos parallel different periods in Jewish history. Yaakov, he says, corresponds to our final golus, Edom. In his words, "the golus will be very long and, at the End of Days, the golus will disappear and everything will be good." Just as Yaakov Avinu traveled a difficult, dark path until he tasted peace, so will his descendants travel a lengthy golus before the eventual simchas olam, eternal peace and joy.Even a cursory reading of the account of Yaakov Avinu’s struggle with the malach, the sar of Eisav, affects us. We somehow sense that in these pesukim lies the secret to a destiny that would prove to be one long struggle, an enduring battle between the forces of kedushah and tumah, good and evil. It’s the battle that defines our mission, both as individuals and as a nation, always forced to fight for what’s right and pure.

Beyond that, there is also a bigger picture and a bigger plan. Chazal uncover layers of depth and significance to that fight, with nuances that hint at different mitzvos or periods in history.As the battle winds down, the posuk relates that Eisav’s malach said that he has to leave, as the sun was about to rise. Rashi explains, based upon the Gemara in Maseches Chullin, that Eisav’s malach had to say shirah that day and, with the day about to dawn, he had to return. We were taught as children that he begged Yaakov to release him, since he’d waited from the beginning of time for his turn to sing before his Maker. We understood that it just happened to work out that way, with the epic battle taking place on the night before he was slated to sing.

Rav Chaim Soloveitchik understood the malach’s request on a higher level. He explained that it wasn’t mere happenstance that the malach would be singing shirah that day. The song of a creature is sung when he fulfills and achieves his mission. Shirah takes place when shleimus has been achieved. The destiny for the malach, the sar of Eisav, the yeitzer hara, is to struggle with the forces of good - and lose. His job is to provide the challenge for the good to overcome evil and emerge triumphant.

Until that fateful night, the malach of evil had not fulfilled his shlichus, for each and every time, the power of tov was unable to overcome him. Everything in this world is created for kavod Shomayim. As long as the angel’s actions didn’t bring about kavod Hashem, he had not achieved the purpose he was created for and could not sing shirah.

When Yaakov Avinu was victorious, the malach’s destiny was realized. He had fought hard, but the koach of good had won. He was now worthy of singing the shiras Hashem, because he had lost, and that was his tafkid.Often, we are confronted by obstacles and hindrances. We are ready to give up and permit the forces of evil which torment us to win. Sometimes, people think that they are doomed, with no way out. Survival becomes a daily battle. However, if we summon our inner strengths, we will find resources of stamina, vitality and vigor to keep on going, just as Yaakov did back then.

There is a plan and a mission inherent in the struggle and we must be cognizant of this fact. We proceed, for at the end, as the Maharal says, the darkness will disappear and we’ll see the good.

The parsha recounts (35:21) that following the passing of Rochel Imeinu, Yaakov and his sons traveled on, setting up camp near Migdal Eider, where they enjoyed a rare moment of tranquility and relative quiet. The Targum Yonasan Ben Uziel writes that this place, "meiholah leMigdal Eider," is the location from where "Moshiach will reveal himself."

The aspect of maaseh avos siman labonim carries through here as well. Yaakov’s rest symbolizes our respite from the bitterness and pain of golus. After the battles, after the wars, after enduring the chicanery of Lavan and the depravity of Eisav, Yaakov merits some tranquility. And so shall we.

This week, many years ago, an American bochur walked into a shtiebel in Yerushalayim to daven Minchah. An old Yerushalmi Yid with a twinkle in his eye called him over.

"Ich hub far eich ah kasha. I have a question for you," he said. "The posuk says that Yaakov was victorious over the malach of Eisav and was given a new name, Yisroel, in honor of his triumph.

"But," asked the wizened Yerushalmi, "how can we say Yaakov won? He was left bruised and limping, while the malach ascended to Heaven to sing shirah. Doesn’t it seem like the malach was the victor and Yaakov the loser?"

The Yid thought for a moment and continued.

"Amerikaneh bochur’l, listen to the answer and remember it: When there is a dispute about an ideology, the one who hits first is the loser. If one of the debaters raises his hand and smacks the other, it’s a sign that he can no longer match his opponent with intellect and facts, so he has to hit. When the malach struck Yaakov, he was in fact conceding defeat. He was saying that Yaakov had triumphed!"

The Jewish road is strewn with obstacles, and that is the biggest testimony that ours is the path to victory. They keep hitting, they keep striking, but their blows are ones of defeat.

We don’t hit back. We keep marching on, secure that there’s a plan.

"Bikeish Yaakov leisheiv beshalvah." Yaakov Avinu seemed destined for a life of constant travail. He was forced to contend with Eisav and then escaped his murderous wrath. He toiled in learning for fourteen years, depriving himself of sleep throughout. His journey continued with Elifaz robbing him of everything he owned. He went on to face Lavan’s wiliness and greed. It never ended for him, as each day brought a new round of trouble, sad news, and daunting nisyonos.Instead of growing despondent and asking, "Why me?" Yaakov looked at each new day as a fresh opportunity to learn more Torah, establish a holy family, and toil in the vineyard of Hashem following his father and grandfather. Thus, he was successful in what he did, fulfilling his mission as he prospered and prevailed.

Obstacles, as Rav Chaim taught, have a mission of their own, to be beaten down with bitachon and steady, unwavering avodah. We look around and see the gloomy news coming from every direction. There are militants and madmen eying tiny Eretz Yisroel through their gun-sights, ready to pull the trigger at the slightest provocation. We see despots and dictators arming themselves with nuclear weapons, laughingly threatening to obliterate us and our people. And we worry.

Right here, in New York and New Jersey, the horrific emblems of seventy-five years ago have resurfaced, with broken, shattered glass serving as a haunting reminder of the darkest time in recent memory.

The avak, the dust, of the struggle is everywhere, making it difficult to see clearly.

Rav Mordechai Shulman, the late rosh yeshiva of the Slabodka Yeshiva in Bnei Brak, was a close talmid of the Chofetz Chaim. He would tell stories that demonstrated the ruach hakodesh of the Chofetz Chaim. He said that during the years of World War I, the Chofetz Chaim carried the pain of Klal Yisroel in his heart. With the Jewish people suffering terribly, he was beside himself, as he offered his pure tefillos and brachos to lighten the gezeiros.

Since Rav Mordechai spoke and read the Russian language, he was given the job of reading the daily Russian newspaper to his rebbi and translating it into Yiddish, so that the Chofetz Chaim would be apprised of the day’s developments.

Rav Mordechai recounted that, every day, he was amazed anew, for as he began to read the news to the Chofetz Chaim, his rebbi would complete the account, down to the last detail, as if he’d already heard it. He said that it was impossible for the Chofetz Chaim to have heard the news from anyone else, and there was no way he could have read the newspaper on his own, for he was not able to.

Rav Shulman related that his astonishment was lessened years later when he saw an explanation from the Vilna Gaon on the words we say during Shacharis that the malachim stand each morning "umashmi’im beyirah yachad bekol divrei Elokim Chaim uMelech Olam." In Heaven, the angels sing out that which they hear from their King.

The Vilna Gaon explains that this means that the song of the angels is comprised of the events - the encounters, developments and happenings - that have been decreed for the day ahead. Every day, the malachim are mashmia bekol the words of Hashem as they impact the occurrences of the coming day.

Heaven is filled with the sound of what will yet be. "And," Rav Mordechai remarked, "I am certain that, every day, the Chofetz Chaim heard the sod siach sarfei kodesh of the malachim discussing what Hashem did and was going to do in His world."

The Chofetz Chaim was privy to that song, said Rav Mordechai, so of course he knew what had happened each day, as he had heard the call of the malachim.The story is astounding in what it teaches us about the way of the world and what it says about the greatness of the pure and holy tzaddikim. Everything that happens - the good, the bad and the fearsome, the anti-Semitic rants and attacks, and the calls of hate and aggression - is announced each morning in Heaven, passed on from angel to angel. It is all part of a plan. The Divine Plan.

Reb Yosef Friedenson is a most eloquent voice who has made it his mission to teach our generation about what existed before the Holocaust, as well as the heroism and self-sacrifice demonstrated amidst the suffering and devastation during World War II. His memories tell the story of Klal Yisroel in exile. They are recollections that reflect the experiences of Yaakov Avinu in his own golus.

Reb Yosef shares the memory of standing in a crowded square, as the Nazis, yemach shemom, were herding Jews together, barking orders at them. Reb Yosef’s father, a learned man, spontaneously addressed the gathered Yidden. He began by quoting the pesukim in Sefer Yeshaya, perek 14, which contain the words of the novi in response to the arrogance of Nevuchadnetzar:"For you said to yourself, ‘I will ascend to heaven and set my throne above G-d’s stars. I will preside on the mountain of the gods far away in the north. I will climb to the highest heavens and be like the Most High.’ But instead, you will be brought down to the place of the dead, down to its lowest depths. Everyone there will stare at you and ask, ‘Can this be the one who shook the earth and the kingdoms of the world?’"

The pesukim relate how the mightiest and most arrogant of armies will eventually fall. Even their rise, we are told, is stained with hints of a dark future.

Ultimately, the darkness passed and the feared Nazis fell.

When he relates his recollections and thoughts, Reb Yosef remarks, "On that fortuitous day, when we watched the Nazis march out with their arms raised above their heads, being prodded and pushed by the guns of the liberating armies, we wondered aloud, ‘Are these the soldiers from whom we had such fear? Are these the fearful oppressors of yesterday?’

"Just as my father said, just as the novi said. The darkness, the light, it’s all part of the pattern of Jewish history."

More recently, people who were the embodiment of evil, such as Saddam Hussein, Muammar Gaddafi and Osama bin Laden, were like wounded animals at their end, when they were found by those seeking justice. The men whom the entire world feared were humbled and degraded. They were exposed to the whole world as small, scared people, a very different impression than the legendary aura they seemed to possess while they were in power.

It was difficult to believe that these people ever had any strength of their own. In fact, they didn’t. They were players in a Divine plot. They were tools of Hashem to somehow create kavod Shomayim in ways yet to be seen. When their mission was completed, the strength and guile they had been granted in order to complete their jobs were taken from them and they returned to the afar min ha’adamah that they essentially were.

The pattern of Yisroel bein ha’amim is symbolized by the struggle between Yaakov and the sar of Eisav, which ended when the sun rose. The Torah reports, "Vayizrach lo hashemesh, vehu tzoleiah al yereicho - The sun rose and Yaakov was limping." The limp reminded him of the travails he had experienced and overcome. But the sun was shining. "Al kein lo yochlu Bnei Yisroel es gid hanosheh." Therefore, we don’t eat the gid hanosheh, which the sar of Eisav had injured. By not eating it, we remind ourselves until this very day that the torment we endure is a sign of strength and victory. They can’t beat us with the force of argument and veracity, so they hurt us, enslave us, break our windows, and call us demeaning names. We are reminded that it is a sign of strength to be hounded and persecuted, as we have been throughout the ages. We are pained in our lives, as private people and as a tzibbur. We are tested again and again. Our enemies are weak and impotent, and we have the wounds to prove it.

We are reminded that "vayizrach lo hashemesh."

Near Migdal Eider, Moshiach waits to reveal himself. May he do so bemeheirah beyomeinu. Amein.