Bring Them Home
by Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz
Sadly, it is a familiar
script.
We face the tragedies of
three sweet bochurim, and at the same time, we cannot help but feel the
isolation. Even as our people are consumed by concern, interrupting weddings,
graduations and gatherings to join in reciting Tehillim, embracing the Shabbos
earlier and with more focus than usual, and continually davening, the
apathy of the wider public and the mainstream media is a reminder of the
eternal truth of the posuk which states, “Hein am levodod yishkon.” We
are alone.
Any student of history or
intelligent observer of the world scene does not expect better and is not
surprised when the nations of the world join to once again condemn us for
having the temerity to be victims. Those experienced with global affairs don’t
even react anymore when they read how the United Nations terms the kidnapping “alleged”
and when Israel is condemned for showing single-minded dedication to bringing
its boys home.
When such things occur, we
should not be depressed. Instead, we should be heartened by the lessons found
in this week’s parsha.
This world and its
transitory values and flesh-and-blood leaders are temporary and will soon
vanish from the scene, to be replaced with yet other transitory people.
We live with a higher ideal:
“Zos chukas haTorah, adam ki yomus ba’ohel.” The people whose souls are
fused to the Torah throw off every physical mantle. They succeed by ignoring
realities that do not contribute to spiritual existence, and concentrate their
lives on Torah.
To succeed in our goal of
cleaving to Torah, we must disregard the current thinking of those around us
and stubbornly persist with our Torah way of life, despite the many
detractors.
We are bound to the chok,
the bond of Torah living, which goes beyond reason and logic. To be attached to
Hashem means to be detached from the world and to recognize that it neither
accepts nor values us.
This is the explanation of
the first Rashi in this week’s parsha. Rashi quotes a Medrash
Tanchumah which says that the Soton and the nations of the world
mock us and ask us for the rationale of this mitzvah. Therefore, says Rashi,
the Torah spells out that Parah Adumah is a chok, a gezeirah
min haShomayim, and we are not permitted to question it.
The nations of the world,
and those who mock us and attempt to wrestle us from the path of our forefathers,
question us and our practices. They say that the mitzvos are backward
and without reason. We don’t answer them. We don’t try to explain it to them.
We reinforce to ourselves that we are following the word of Hashem, which
is a chok. This is the only way we are able to succeed and flourish in
this world of sheker.
Torah, the ultimate wisdom,
doesn’t operate with the conventional rules, the wisdom of university
classrooms and laboratories, but quite the opposite.
Crafting logical sales
pitches for the Torah will only do half a job. In the end, we must accept the chukim
as well as the mishpotim, recognizing that we work for a Master and that
alone is reason enough to follow each and every dictate and command.
Torah greatness and fidelity
aren’t born of brilliance, but of toil, purity and diligence. Rav Elazar
Menachem Man Shach zt”l would often quote from the sefer Sheim
Hagedolim, which says that before Rashi set out to write his
landmark peirush, he traveled extensively to ascertain whether a better peirush
than he envisioned existed. It was only after he was unable to find an extant
exposition explaining the Torah that he set out to write the classic peirush
that has endured until this day.
As Rashi wrote his
work, he fasted hundreds of taaneisim to ensure that his words would
help propel people to the truth.
Rav Shach would weep when he
would mention this about Rashi, because to him, this anecdote
represented all that is right and true about our mesorah. It underscores
the fact that chochmas haTorah isn’t about reason alone, but also about
humility coupled with commitment to the truth and mesorah.
People in our day are led
astray by those who claim to understand the reasoning for different halachos
and temper them to mesh with the times. Such thinking lies at the root of the
fallacy of the Conservative and Reform movements, which ultimately caused so
many to deviate from halacha and mesorah, leading millions of
Jews astray. It sounds funny to us that they maintain institutions they refer
to as yeshivos and have halachic decisors who write so-called teshuvos
in halacha. In their fanciful world, they believe that they are
legitimately following the Torah.
Once you begin to
rationalize the commandments and inject human understanding of them and their
concepts, you begin compromising them and sullying the holy with pedestrian
thought processes.
Their assumption that they
have mastered the Torah is their undoing. Critical thinking and analysis
lacking yiras Shomayim, a sense of mesorah and humility results in
individuals who destroy instead of build, obscure instead of reveal, and cause
others to repel Torah instead of drawing closer to it.
Our fellow Jews in the Open
Orthodoxy movement, who follow in the path of the founders of the
Conservatives, have fallen into this trap. Insistent as they are on being
termed Orthodox, we must never stop denying their claim, because, in fact, they
are not Orthodox in thought, practice, attitude or approach.
A story is told about a poor
couple about to celebrate their fiftieth wedding anniversary. The wife decided
to treat her beloved husband by preparing a dish he always craved. Throughout
their marriage, they never had enough money to afford lamb stew. Now that they
had reached this great milestone, she was determined to find a way to prepare
this delicacy for her husband.
The resourceful woman went
to a library, found a good recipe, and wrote it down. She then set out to
gather the ingredients. When she arrived at the butcher shop, she decided that
lamb was too costly. She reasoned that it would be okay if she replaced the
lamb with much less expensive chicken necks. The recipe called for barley,
potatoes and carrots. Those were also too expensive, so she replaced them with
kasha. When she got home, she saw that she was missing many of the spices
necessary. She figured that if she uses plentiful amounts of salt, the stew
would taste just as good.
After expending much effort
in preparing the celebratory stew, she proudly placed the steaming dish before
her husband. He could barely contain himself in his desire to finally fulfill
his dream of eating lamb stew. He took one bite, and then another, and finally
offered his assessment. “I don’t know why rich people make such a big deal
about lamb stew,” he mused. “Now that I have finally tasted it, I see that it’s
nothing special.”
Friends, if it doesn’t have
lamb and it doesn’t have barley, chives, thyme, garlic and seasoning, then no
matter what you call it, it is not lamb stew.
These people lack the meat
and potatoes, and they lack the spice, yet they carry the name Orthodox and
refuse to let it go. They have the potential to inflict damage on the shuls
and schools that naively hire their members thinking that they are loyal to
Torah and mesorah. We must persist in calling them out as the impostors
that they are.
Rav Elchonon Wasserman zt”l
would explain the posuk in Tehillim (119:142) of “Tzidkoscha
tzedek le’olam” to mean that man cannot fathom the depths of Hashem’s
justice, for society and its concepts are ever changing. What is considered
just in one generation is viewed as unjust in the next. But “veSorascha emes,”
the truth of Torah is everlasting. It neither changes for the times nor
conforms to them.
Zos chukas haTorah. Torah is a chok. Torah is neither about impressive dissertations
nor social welfare and maintaining a good PR firm. It is about following the
will of the Creator as expressed in Torah Skebiksav and Torah
Shebaal Peh. That’s just the way it is.
When Rav Shach would deliver
a shiur in Ponovezh Yeshiva, he would pose a question and a storm of
responses would follow from the Ponovezher talmidim. He would address
them and then proceed with his shiur, sometimes incorporating what the bochurim
said into his shiur and other times shooting them down.
One day, he presented a
question that had caused him great angst in understanding a particular sugya.
The boys tried to answer the question in many different ways, but nothing that
any of them said pleased him. Consumed by the difficulty, he traveled to
Yerushalayim to pose his question to the Brisker Rov. The next day, Rav Shach
excitedly shared the Rov’s answer in his shiur.
After the shiur, a
talmid went over to him and protested that he had given the very same
answer the day before, only to have it rejected. He wanted to know what
had changed and why the sevara was better today than yesterday.
“It is true that you said
the same p’shat as the Rov,” Rav Shach explained, “but you took
it out of your keshene, your pocket. The Rov’s answer came from
his vast knowledge accumulated by years of toiling in Torah. His response was
arrived at with authority, responsibility and clarity.”
Another time, Rav Shach
entered shiur armed with a penetrating question on a Baal Hamaor.
Suffering from vision problems at the time, he held up the Gemara in an
attempt to quote the words of the Rishon. As hard as he tried, and as
close as he brought the text to his eyes and struggled, he was unable to read
the small print of the Baal Hamaor. Sadly, he closed the Gemara, explaining
that he hoped his eyesight would improve sufficiently by the next day to be
able to read aloud the piece that he wished to comment on.
The next day, he entered the
bais medrash, happily holding the large Gemara, prepared to read
aloud the words of the Baal Hamaor that had failed him the previous day.
But first he asked a question: “How many of you looked up the Baal Hamaor
after yesterday’s shiur?” Nobody answered. “How many of you tried to
figure out the p’shat in what he says?” No answer. “How many of you
thought about the Baal Hamaor since yesterday?” No hands went up.
“Then forget it,” said the rosh
yeshiva. “Farges vegen dem. Ihr zeit dos nisht vert. If none of you
cared enough to look up the Baal Hamaor to figure out the question or to
attempt an answer, then you aren’t worthy of me standing here, straining to
read it to you and enrich you with the proper understanding of the Rishon
and the sugya.”
Rav Shach was an exceedingly
humble person, one of the most modest people of his generation. He didn’t make
that comment because his ego was hurt. He said it because he wanted to remind
the young talmidim that there is no success in Torah without struggle.
There is no growth without hard work, tilling and plowing in order for crops to
grow. Simply transcribing the teachings of a great man will not engender
greatness. If it comes easy, from a silver spoon, then it will not last. Effort
and travail strengthen and fortify us.
Perhaps this was part of the
klalah meted out to Adam and Chava after they ate from the Eitz
Hadaas. “You tried to obtain knowledge that is removed from you,” said
Hashem, “so from now on, bezeias apecha tochal lechem, everything good
you attain will be lost if it is not attained through the sweat of your brow.
Nothing will come easy. Be’itzavon teildi bonim. New life will be
preceded by terrible pain.”
Chazal say (Taanis 30, et
al), “Kol hamisabel al Yerushalayim zocheh veroeh besimchosah.” In order
to merit enjoying the rebuilding of Yerushalayim, you must first mourn its
destruction.
The fact that unity is
brought on by division was part of that curse. Yosef was sold into slavery by
his brothers. It was a terribly divisive act, but one that led to their
salvation in Mitzrayim. The Mitzriyim mistreated the Jews, plunging them to the
worst degrees of tumah. Hashem then freed them, fashioning them as His
people and gifting them the Torah.
Eis tzorah hee leYaakov. It is a dangerous time for our people. Terrorist havens
have been established in Iraq, Syria and Iran. Radical Islamists who seek our
destruction are on the march, gaining territory, adherents, military material
and much capital. The world’s greatest power is led by a man who doesn’t seem
to have our security and wellbeing high on his list of priorities. He created a
huge vacuum, pulling all American army personnel out of Iraq and drawing down
the army’s presence in Afghanistan, while providing no help for freedom-seekers
who want to topple Syrian dictator Bashar al-Assad.
While he continued the
previous administration’s search for Osama bin Laden and signed off on the
order to execute him, the president viewed killing him as decimating the terror
threat the al Qaida head represented. Obviously, while that may have worked as
an election campaign slogan, in the real world the bad guys are gaining
strength and spreading like wildfire. The specter of terrorism is as real as
ever, yet there is no overall strategy as to how to battle it or how to proceed
in Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Syria and Egypt.
Israel takes great pride in
its vaunted army, yet, for over a week, its members wandered through the West
Bank, trying desperately to find the three kidnapped boys and encountering dead
ends everywhere they turn. It’s clear that they need siyata diShmaya,
and we need to keep beseeching Heaven for their success.
An elderly chossid
once shared a precious vort which was passed down to him from previous
generations. When Jews suffer, he related, they say, “Oy, tzaros, things
are rough.” But that comment, “Oy, tzaros,” forms the word otzaros,
meaning treasure chests. The travails and suffering of our people contain a
repository of growth and blessing. From suffering comes joy, and out of
destruction emerges rebirth.
Since those bochurim
were captured, we have seen the depth of our achdus. We see that we are
indeed a people that dwells alone. But we are okay to be alone, because we are
united and have each other.
Let us open these otzaros,
these store-houses of riches, the newfound connection to each other, the new
intensity in tefillah, and the new sense of the ability of each individual
to effect change through prayer. The kidnapping of the bochurim has
served as a catalyst to bring disparate people together as brothers and
appreciate being part of an am bodud. Let it not go to waste.
Hopefully, we
will rejoice united, a nation giving thanks as one for the safe return of our
sons and brothers. May the unity of these days be as enduring as the Torah we
live and learn.
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