Ah Freilichen Purim

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

The story of Purim is intertwined with Amaleik, the archenemy of the Jewish people. Last Shabbos, we read the passage (Devorim 25:17) referring to Amaleik and the obligation to remember that they attacked us following our exodus from Mitzrayim. The posuk recounts that encounter: “Asher korcha baderech - They attacked you while you were on the road.” The parsha concludes with the admonition to remember to eradicate the memory of Amaleik.

We recently studied Parshas Beshalach, at the end of which (Shemos 17:8-16) the Torah tells of the battle that Amaleik waged against the Jewish people at Refidim. Moshe appointed Yehoshua to lead the defense and he alighted atop a high area with Aharon and Chur. When Moshe raised his hands, the Jews would win, and when he tired and lowered them, the Jews began losing the battle. Ultimately, Yehoshua succeeded in repelling the attack. Hashem told Moshe to write what happened with Amaleik and promised that He will eradicate the memory of Amaleik. Moshe constructed a mizbeiach to thank Hashem for the victory and said that Hashem would battle Amaleik in every generation.

How does the story of Purim tie in to Amaleik? How can we hate Amaleik and seek to eradicate him when we don’t know where he exists? What is there about Amaleik that resulted in the mitzvah to hate him and seek to destroy him if we are able to? What is more evil about Amaleik than the other nations who sought our destruction?

The answer is often given that following Krias Yam Suf, everyone was in awe of the wonders of Hashem and nobody dared to do something against His will. The posuk describes Amaleik’s crime as “asher korcha.” This is commonly understood through the root of the word “kor” to mean that Amaleik “cooled off” the world’s wonder at the supernatural act that Hashem did, splitting the sea and allowing the Jewish people to walk where the water had flowed.

But at the root of “korcha” is also the word “mikreh,” which means happenstance. Amaleik said that the sea just happened to split at the time the Jews needed to escape from Paroh. It wasn’t a miraculous escape; it was easily defined by the laws of nature. Amaleik told the nations that there was no need to fear the Jews and their G-d, even waging war against them to prove their point.

The foundation of our belief is that everything that happens to us and the world is done by Hashem. There is no such a thing as happenstance. If something happens, it is because Hashem willed it so. When things go well for us, we have to thank Hashem, and when we think that what is happening is not good, we need to first remember that it was done by Hashem and ultimately it is for the good. Moreover, Hashem speaks to us through what He does, and if we have some type of setback, Hashem is sending us a message that we must do teshuvah and engage in tefillah so that we may be forgiven for our misdeeds.

The concept that the world operates on its own according to forces of nature and coincidence is the influence of Amaleik. That is what Moshe meant when he said that there is an ongoing battle between Hashem and Amaleik in every generation. Amaleik plants and promotes the idea that everything happens by itself; it just evolved that way and occurred by accident. This serves to undercut the proper perspective and prevents people from engaging in teshuvah and tefillah in times of tragedy. It causes people to become sad and depressed instead of recognizing that everything occurs because that is what Hashem wanted. It causes jealousy and hatred among people and causes people to be led astray from living a life of Torah and mitzvos.

When the Crusades swept across Europe, killing thousands of Jews, it was explained as a Christian religious pilgrimage gone amok. But the rabbonim of the time saw the Hand of Hashem in the terrible bloodletting. The Tosafos Yom Tov saw that it was caused by people speaking during davening and composed a special tefillah to be said for those who refrained from discussing mundane topics during davening. Where others saw natural forces at work, yorei Shomayim perceived Divine punishment and encouraged acts of repentance to bring an end to the maddening massacres.

This goes on in every generation. Take a look at what is happening now in our world.

In a flash, this country has gone from the Trump philosophy of America First to Biden’s philosophy of America Last. From years of plenty, the country is headed to years of less. There will be more taxes, more illegal immigrants, more regulations, and more maddening laws and rules. How did that happen? Amaleik would say that it was because Biden had a better message and his campaign resonated better with American voters. “That’s just the way it works in a democracy,” say people who believe that things happen by natural design. But if you believe that Yad Hashem controls everything, then you know that something deeper is afoot.

Eretz Yisroel is closed to us. Nobody from golus can get into the country. Do we realize what a terrible gezeirah that is? Can you imagine if the Turks were still in control of the Holy Land and they barred our entry? It would be a global scandal. There would be demonstrations, proclamations, days of prayer, speeches at the UN, and more. But now, we are locked out of Artzeinu Hakedosha. People say that this step was taken to save lives and we must therefore accept it. That’s just what happens when there’s a pandemic, they say. And why is there a pandemic? Because a sick bat got loose in China and infected the world.

But if we would realize that everything that happens is Yad Hashem, we would recognize that we are being punished. Being locked out of Eretz Yisroel is a punishment. We would seek to find an eitzah to earn reentry. We would pay heed to the various gedolim who are calling out to us to improve different aspects of our behavior and conduct ourselves as if the wrath of Hashem is upon us.

Amaleik is like the person who has a problem with something he thinks you said or wrote. He may be totally wrong about what you said and why. He begins debating you about that or some other topic he knows very little about, but he is convinced that he is correct and that you are wrong. He is sure that the facts are the way he states them and refuses to listen to anything you say.

Facts are facts. They are stubborn things that cannot be shoved aside when they get in the way of an argument. However, in our day, it appears that facts are fungible and not definite. At most, they are uncomfortable things that are easily twisted or discarded. Information based on assumptions and hearsay becomes as valid as established fact and proven reality.

To them, nobody can be trusted. Anyone who doesn’t agree with their position is corrupt and under the influence of crooked people. There is always a story behind the story, which you are too foolish to know, because you are naïve and unwise to the ways of the world. There is always a conspiracy of people who make sure that the wrong narrative takes hold. You, of course, are too fixed in your position to see what is plainly visible to them. You, your books and your teachers are closed-minded and foolish. To these people, facts are unrelated to the truth and truth doesn’t really matter anyway. It is only their position and their agenda that have any value.

That is the way of Amaleik. From his earliest roots, his father, Eisov, portrayed the danger of our eternal enemy. The posuk (Bereishis 25:34) speaks of when Eisov sold the bechorah to Yaakov: “Vayivez Eisov es habechorah.” Rashi explains that the Torah was attesting to the wickedness of Eisov, who mocked what was important.

The Baal Haturim connects this posuk to the Megillah, which uses the same term, “vayivez b’einov” (Esther 3:6), in reference to the way Haman mockingly viewed Mordechai. When all the nations were respectful and fearful of the Jews, Amaleik, as is his nature, mocked the Jews and declared war upon them. He did so to mock Hashem in front of His own people and in front of the world.

It was immediately following Kabbolas HaTorah that Amaleik appeared to show his hatred for the truth as represented by the Torah. He pounced upon the Jewish people and sought to separate them from the Torah, mocking its essence and mocking them for abiding by its laws and truths. They had a natural explanation for everything, and to prove that they were right, they went to war against the Jews, so convinced were they that they would quickly defeat the nascent nation.

Amaleik’s arguments are proven hollow time and again, yet that doesn’t stop the lies against the Jews. Every couple of years, we struggle against a new group, led by a lunatic who peddles populistic narratives introduced to the world by Amaleik and repeatedly disproven over the ages.

They formulate alternative facts, sell fiction as non-fiction, and spin wondrous tales of how much better off mankind would be if they would find a way to be rid of the awful Jews. If people believe in space aliens and a secret cabal that controls the world, why is it so difficult to convince people that the reason they are poor and unhappy is because of the Jews?

The more intelligent people become, the more wealth there is in the world, and the more democracy and capitalism expand opportunities for all, the more you would think people would respect the Jews for their accomplishments. In fact, the opposite is true. Over the ages, the more successful Jews became, the more people hated them. This is because Amaleik, who is at the root of the hatred for the Jewish people, is not concerned with the truth. All he cares about is destroying the absolute truth and the Jews who cling to it.

The internet empowers him. There was a time when misguided people were a minority and were often unable to find intellectual support for their failed theories. They were lonely and had no voice. Many faded into oblivion. Today, though, any crackpot with a smartphone can connect to other misguided persons. They offer each other support and are no longer lonely in their senseless conspiracy theories.

A Jew-hater with no audience can now sit in anonymous comfort and engage in a daily dissemination of acrid poison against a group of people. He gains followers, who grow exceedingly brazen in their cantankerous language and calls for violence. We never hurt them, we never interfered with them, and nothing we did impacted their lives. When we meet them and see the hatred pour out of their staring eyes, when we read their dribble online, we wonder about their antagonism and venom.

We read the history of Germany, a fine, advanced, cultured nation, yet it didn’t take more than one madman to strike a match and a horrific lust for blood overtook the country. The people turned into killing machines in a mad dash to erase the Jews and their memory from the face of the earth. Such is the abhorring abomination of Amaleik, ever-present, hiding under a veneer of gentility, awaiting its resurrection.

The Mishnah at the beginning of the second perek of Maseches Megillah states, “Hakorei es hamegillah lemafreia lo yotza – Someone who lains the pesukim of the Megillah in reverse [order] has not fulfilled his obligation.” Many seforim explain that the Mishnah is hinting that someone who reads and considers the story of the Megillah - the danger and subsequent salvation - to be “lemafreia,” ancient history, has missed the point of the Megillah and has to read it again.

Purim is a holiday of redemption. It is also the day when we read the Megillah and are reminded that even occurrences that appear to be natural are Divine. Even when it appears that we are forsaken, Hashem is hidden but in control. We should never give up hope.

In Al Hanissim, we thank Hashem for the miracles “bayomim haheim bazeman hazeh.” We are proclaiming that in these days, just as in those back in Shushan, Hashem is guiding every detail that takes place with us. As we are reminded that He is controlling the destinies of the nations of the world, we then take heed that when the story plays out, the saga will be as comforting for us in our day as it was to the Jews back then.

This, perhaps, is the meaning of the words we declare, “Teshuosom hoyisa lonetzach - You were their savior for eternity.” Each year, on Purim, the Divine intervention that saved them back then is present and has the ability to rescue us.

“Vesikvosom bechol dor vador.” This is our hope in each generation. Each period has its distinct challenges, obstacles and problems, but the hope remains one and the same.

One year, during the course of the Purim seudah, the Chiddushei Horim began addressing the chassidim who had gathered around him. He said that when reading the Megillah, we encounter all sorts of seemingly insignificant and random incidents, tales of political conspiracy and palace backroom betrayal.

When you begin to read the Megillah, you wonder why we are being told these tales of palace intrigue regarding a Persian king and about a feast he held to commemorate his third year on the throne. Why is the Megillah writing about a queen who didn’t want to appear at the feast, and why does it spend so much time discussing the search for a new queen after the first one was killed?

Why do we care, asked the Chiddushei Horim, and why do we have to know all that?

The rebbe was quiet, lost in thought, as the questions sunk in. Then he continued and said that this is how it will be when Moshiach will come. Strange occurrences will be taking place. The news will be confounding. Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, Moshiach will arrive and everyone will recognize that all that transpired was tied to the geulah.

If we are worthy, we will perceive one day soon how the threats from Iran, the pandemic and plagues of other deadly diseases, the fearful political climate and everything else that is occurring to us now will be tied together, and it will be evident that they were precursors for the great day for which we all wait.

It was at that last Purim hour, during the moments when day slowly recedes and the sky begins to darken. Inside the crowded room, a rebbi and talmidim surrounded a table, as songs, Torah and quips joined into a burst of sound, the holy noise of Purim rising heavenward.

At one end of the long table, its surface covered with a wine-stained cloth and festively-arranged bottles, a talmid raised a question. He quoted the well-known Gemara, referred to extensively in halachic discussion of the obligations of the Purim seudah, which recounts how Rabbah rose and slaughtered Rav Zeira (Megillah 7b).

Rav Zeira had accepted Rabbah’s invitation to join him for the seudas Purim. Rabbah fulfilled the dictum of Chazal to drink, and he became inebriated to the point that he actually slaughtered his guest. When he realized what transpired, he begged for Divine mercy and Rav Zeira was revived.

Rishonim and Acharonim utilize p’shat, remez, drush and sod to explain the Gemara. But the talmid had a basic question. Once Rav Zeira’s soul had left him, what was Rabbah thinking when he rose to daven? Can a person request techiyas hameisim? Can one ask that the order of creation be reversed?

The rebbi smiled, enjoying the question, and the talmidei chachomim present offered various interpretations. Then the rebbi spoke. “It was Purim,” he said, “and when we understand the message of Purim, then we know that it is not a question, for we then perceive, on the deepest level, that there is no teva and neis, there is no natural and miraculous. It’s all one. It’s all in the Hands of Hashem, who directs the world according to His understanding and will.

There is no teva. There is no law that governs who lives and who dies and when; who wins battles and who loses; who gets rich and who gets poor. It is all Yad Hashem.

Let’s all pay heed to that message and conduct ourselves accordingly so that we may be happy all year round and merit the coming of Moshiach very soon.

Ah freilichen Purim.

Ah gantz yahr freilach.

The Secret of Joy

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

The lives we lead as Jews are unique in many ways. Take the month of Adar, for example. Regardless of what our situation is, Adar obligates us to be happy. We could be worried about the coronavirus, or working too hard in a seemingly Sisyphean battle to make ends meet. We can be longing for a good shteller or a career, or we could be stuck in a dead-end job, and then we open up the Mishnah Berurah and find the halacha that since it is Adar, we have to be increasingly happy.  

We wonder how the halacha can demand from us not only to be happy, but to be happier. We have it hard enough with the various pressures we are forced to contend with daily, and now we have a new one. On top of everything, we now also have to be happy.

We wonder how that can be. Firstly, isn’t halacha about things we must do and things we must not do? Since when does halacha dictate our emotions? There are people who have really miserable lives. How can we demand of them that they be happy? Obviously, there is more to happiness than we tend to believe.

The Declaration of Independence declares that life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness are unalienable rights of every American citizen. We all have the right to pursue happiness, but we are sometimes confounded by how to go about it.

People think that if they would be able to do a $10,000,000 deal, they would be happy. Others think that if they could just hop on a plane and go to Miami for a week or two, they would be happy. If only I could afford what my neighbor has, I would be happy.

In truth, happiness is a sense of spiritual contentment. To be really happy in a way that nothing can displace your happiness, it has to be rooted in something real. A temporary fix is just that - temporary. It only lasts as long as the fix does. If you are sad and you buy yourself a great chocolate-covered ice cream cone filled with the best flavors and topped with colored sprinkles, you will be happy as you look forward to eating it, and then as you eat it, and for as long as the memory of the experience remains. Once that is gone, your happiness will dissipate as well.

A person who lusts for money and power will never have enough money and power to satisfy himself. The more money a person acquires, the more obligations he has and the more possessions he covets. Until he made his first $15 million, he didn’t feel the need to fly on a private plane, but once he reached that level of wealth, it’s beneath him to travel with regular people any longer. He needs that plane, and if he doesn’t have it, he gets depressed. He needs so many things and is not happy until he gets them, and once he gets them, he needs more. And just when he thinks that he finally made it, he reads in Crain’s that some other macher did a big deal and is now much wealthier than him. And he’s back on the hamster wheel once again.

A person who craves honor and recognition can never get enough, because there is always someone who will not bow to him, ruining everything for him. See Haman.

A person who is connected to Hashem and understands that whatever happens is for the greater good can be joyful despite his physical condition and hardships. Happiness must come from within you, and the way to attain long-lasting contentment is by engaging in activities that nourish your soul and give your life meaning.

The story of Purim reinforces the concept not to become saddened by events. The story played out over a long period, and every day, when the Jews of Shushan and beyond checked the news, all they found were more reasons to fret. There was a new king and people didn’t know what to make of him. Was he a good man or not? Was he intelligent or was he a dope? Maybe in the past he was a decent person, but when his administration took over, it was all downhill and he seemed to be losing it. He appointed anti-Semites to high positions in the administration and they were making life tough for the Jewish people.

The anti-Semites became more emboldened, and the king actually sold out the Jews to their worst enemy, who announced that he would lead an insurrection and have all the Jews killed. There was no way out and nowhere to run. They had all but given up.

The king’s second wife was a frum girl, but she didn’t seem to be helping the Jews much. The people were confounded and worried. They couldn’t make sense of what was going on. And then, under the leadership of Mordechai, they davened and did teshuvah for their misdeeds. The tough times brought everyone together and there was more unity than there had been in a long time.

After everyone had tried everything and given up hope, a miracle happened and the Jews were able to beat back and kill their enemies. As they looked back and studied the events of the prior few years, they saw Hakadosh Boruch Hu’s handprints on everything that had transpired. They realized that every event that had taken place and caused them to be increasingly sad was actually part of a Divine plan that brought them deliverance from their brief golus.

As we are reminded of that time when Adar comes around, we become a little happier, realizing that what is happening in our lives is also coordinated by Hashem. We are reminded that although things don’t seem to be going according to plan, in fact they are. We smile with that realization, waiting for the day that the solution arrives, and we are able to understand Hashem’s actions.

The Megillah relates that the chachomim at the time of the Purim miracle instituted the practice of sending mishloach manos on Purim. Chazal interpret the mitzvah as an obligation to send a friend two different types of food.

By examining the meaning of the words used to define the obligation, we can understand the mitzvah. Mishloach means to send, and manos, which is the plural of manna, means portions. Thus, the literal commandment is not to send foods, but to send portions to a friend. Chazal explain that the portions required are food portions. But perhaps we can also understand that we should not be satisfied just with sending a nice mishloach manos, but we should also send people portions of what they need.

People who are sick can use our tefillos and messages of hope, inspiring them to have the courage to continue battling the disease without giving up. Others are worried about how they will be able to afford the many expenses coming up. We can help them with more than encouragement. Someone else we know is having a hard time juggling all his responsibilities. We can give them doses of support and encouragement. Others we know are lonely and can use a phone call or a short visit to let them know that people care about them and they aren’t all alone in the world.

Everyone can use something. Purim is time for us to do what we can to deliver portions of what they need to be happy and joyous.

The posuk in Shmuel Alef (1:4-5) uses the term manna in connection with a narrative describing how Elkana would go to Shilo to offer karbanos. When he would go, he would give mannos to his wife Peninah and all her sons and daughters. And to Chana he would give “manna achas apayim, ki es Chana oheiv, vaHashem sogar rachmah.” Elkana would give Chana a double portion, because he loved her and she had no children. The Radak explains that Elkana gave her a respectable portion intended to remove her sadness and anger.

The portion that Elkana gave to Chana is the manna that we are to deliver on Purim. By giving the people we love and care about manna achas apayim, double portions, we can help assuage their pain over the things in their lives that aren’t going the way they would like. Through mishloach manos, we can soothe aching hearts and smoothen out ruffled feathers. The mitzvah is to spread happiness and joy. The mitzvah is to go from friend to friend with portions of what they require in order to bring them joy.

Every person was put on this earth to fulfill his or her unique mission. We fulfill our mission in life by giving of ourselves to others. If we use our time properly, studying Torah, performing mitzvos, effecting positive change and engendering happiness for others, our lives will be imbued with satisfaction and happiness.

Successful people are those who help better others. Successful people work to help others get ahead. They help people find happiness.

The Rambam delineates for us the secret to happiness in Hilchos Megillah (2:17), writing, “There is no greater joy than to gladden the hearts of the poor and orphans and widows and geirim. And the one who brings joy to (these) sad people is compared to the Shechinah, as it says in Yeshayah (57:15), “For this is what the One who is uplifted and exalted who lives forever and whose name is Holy, I exist in exaltedness and holiness, but I am with the despondent and the lowly, to give life to those whose spirit is low and whose hearts are crushed.”

The secret of happiness and joy and the essence of life are wrapped up in the message of Purim.

Rav Yosef Shlomo Kahaneman was the rov of Ponovezh in Lithuania prior to the war. Everything that he had there was destroyed. He lost most of his family, townspeople, and talmidim of the yeshiva he established there. Unbroken, he arrived in Israel and resolved to rebuild. It became his life mission, as he set about buying property, drawing up architectural plans, and raising money to establish Yeshivas Ponovezh once again.

He continued building yeshivos and raising funds to maintain them for the rest of his life. As he grew old and suffered from a variety of maladies, he continued his marathon of activity, traveling around the world raising money. Someone asked him from where he derived the energy to keep on going, energetic and happy as he dragged himself around. He revealed his secret.

“Many years ago,” he began, “when I was a very young boy, on Purim, my parents would send mishloach manos to the rov of our shtetel. There were a few brothers in the family and my father would hold a raffle to choose which one of us would have the honor of bringing the cake our mother baked for the occasion, together with a bottle of wine, to the rov and rebbetzin.

“One year, a few days before Purim, my father came home bursting with joy and grabbed his sons together in a circle and danced with them. He explained the cause of his intense joy. He said, ‘Every year, mommy prepares the mishloach manos that we send to the rov and the rebbetzin. This year, I am going to be sending my own mishloach manos to the rov. You see, dear children, a peddler of seforim came to town. Among his seforim, he had for sale a Gemara Bava Basra from the Vilna Shas.’

“In those days, barely anyone owned a complete Shas, let alone the beautiful newly-printed Vilna edition, and to have even a single Vilna volume was a big deal.

“‘I bought it,’ my father said, ‘to give to the rov on Purim.’

“We were too young to understand the enormity of the gift. My brother won the raffle to bring the rov the cake and wine, and I was honored with carrying that heavy volume and giving it to the rov. As soon as I handed it to him and told him that it was a personal mishloach manos from my father, he broke out in a wide smile. He held the Gemara high as if it were a Sefer Torah and began singing songs and dancing around the table with it, as if it were Simchas Torah.

“We stood on the side with the rebbetzin, transformed as we watched him dance and sing with an awe-inspiring happiness that I shall never forget. When he finished, he asked the rebbetzin if she would agree to serve the seudah an hour later than planned so that he could go into his room and study from the Gemara. ‘That will be your mishloach manos to me,’ he said to her. She readily agreed. He once again picked up the Gemara and began dancing.”

Said the famed Ponovezher Rov, “I was but a child of nine years old and had no concept of why the rov was so happy because he had a Gemara, but I resolved right then that if a new Gemara can make a person that happy because it will enable the revered rov to learn better, I was going to dedicate my life to spreading and increasing the study of Torah. The joy that I saw expressed that day is what keeps me going until this very day.”

The secret of happiness, the secret of satisfaction, the secret of accomplishment, is rooted in Torah. The highest form of happiness is derived from the study of Torah. You don’t have to believe me. Go and watch people who have very few physical possessions as they study Torah. You can see that nothing else is important to them as they bask in the wisdom of Hashem’s Torah. They are consumed by an eternal joy that overtakes their being. As they learn, they are happier than anyone out there.

“Kimu vekiblu.” In the days of the Purim miracle, the Jewish people rededicated themselves to Torah and its study, and therefore, “LaYehudim hoysah orah vesimcha vesason vikor,” they had every type of joy. “Kein tihiyeh lonu,” may we follow their example and earn for ourselves sublime joy, in Adar, on Purim, and all year round.

 

There is Always Hope

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

This past Shabbos, when we were mekadeish the incoming month of Adar, everyone felt a tinge of happiness. We knew that the snow will soon melt and even those of us who haven’t been to Florida will be able to enjoy warm weather. Soon, Purim will be here and we will celebrate the victory over Haman and Amaleik back in the days of Shushan. Adar is in the air and we all took a breath of relief.

We consider all that has transpired since last Purim and offer a prayer of thanks that we are here. There has been so much sadness and tragedy during the past year. Everyone is looking forward to the simcha of Purim and its story of redemption, hoping that we will soon merit our own stories of restoration and recovery.

This Shabbos, Rosh Chodesh Adar, we read the first of the four special parshiyos, Parshas Shekolim. “B’echod b’Adar,” on the first day of Adar, Chazal instituted that “mashmi’in al hashekolim,” we announce the obligation to donate a half-shekel to the Mishkon.

Essentially, the call for machatzis hashekel is one for achdus. Everyone participates and contributes the same amount. It is for this reason that Chazal say that the mitzvah of shekolim was as a preemptive strike to offset the shekolim that the evil Haman offered Achashveirosh for the right to destroy the Jewish people.

The mitzvah has several angles. Rav Dovid Cohen, rosh yeshiva of Yeshivas Chevron, discusses in the second volume of his monumental Mizmor L’Dovid different aspects of the counting of the Bnei Yisroel, which we read this Shabbos from Parshas Ki Sisa (30:12). Hashem commanded Moshe to take a half-shekel from each person and to count the coins, instead of the people, so that the counting would not cause a plague.

Rabbeinu Bechayeh (ibid.) explains that when people are counted one by one, they are in jeopardy, because then each person has to stand on his/her own merits. However, when a person is counted as part of a group, each person is judged collectively as a member of Am Yisroel and the zechuyos of the entire community allow each person to be judged favorably, as the communal merits accrue to all the members of Klal Yisroel.

Rav Yitzchok Eizik Chover explains further that the reason there is no plague when Jews are counted in this manner is because there is achdus among them, and the Shechinah is thus able to rest among the Jewish people. When the Shechinah is among them, there can be no negef, no plague.

The Jewish people are compared to a body comprised of many parts, each one vital. There are bones and sinews, tendons and organs, and the body functions only when they are all working in perfect tandem. As long as they are, the neshomah is present in the body. When different parts of the body break down and cease to perform their functions, the neshomah leaves the body and it dies.

Similarly, when there is achdus among the Bnei Yisroel and we are unified, the Shechinah hovers over us and does not allow a negef. When there is peirud and the Jews separate from each other, the Shechinah departs, and there can be a negef. Counting the Jewish people through their equal donations of half-shekel coins serves to unite them and averts all sorts of unpleasantness.

The Alter of Kelm would famously position himself at the center of the bais medrash on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. He would say that the strongest source of merit on those days of judgement is the communal strength of a klal. Thus, he ensured that he was part of the klal and would not stand out in any way that would cause him to be viewed independently.

The Alter would quote the Isha Hashunamis who helped Elisha the prophet in his time of need. In appreciation, Elisha asked her if there was any area in which she required a special favor that he could perform for her. She responded, “Besoch ami anochi yosheves - Amongst my people I dwell,” (Melochim II, 4:13). She responded that she was merely one amongst many, for there is no station loftier or more glorious than being a Jew amongst Jews.

Once, when Rav Meir Simcha of Dvinsk was ill, he was asked for his mother’s name so that Jewish communities could pray for his recovery. The great gaon replied with the words of the Isha Hashunamis. He said that rather than specific prayers, he would appreciate tefillos on behalf of all the cholei Yisroel, which would include him and help him as well. He explained that if the tefillos were offered just for him, the Heavenly Court would examine his life as it considered whether he should live. “And who knows if I will be found worthy?” wondered Rav Meir Simcha. “As a Jew amongst Jews, however, everyone is worthy.”

The Alshich, quoting Rav Shlomo Alkabetz in Menos Halevi, says that each person gave a half-shekel for the census so that no one would feel separated from the others. Rather, everyone realized that without the others, he is not whole. Every Jew understands that his soul is intertwined with everyone else’s. Thus, everyone gives a half and, together, the entire group forms a whole being, which nourishes each one if its members.

This is why, say the Chofetz Chaim and Rav Yitzchok Eizik Chover, the silver half-shekel coins each person contributed for the counting were melted down to form the adonim upon which the Mishkon stood. The foundation blocks were not fashioned of the silver which certain people contributed to the Mishkon Building Campaign in response to Moshe Rabbeinu’s appeal. Rather, they were made of the coins that everyone gave equally to symbolize the importance of achdus in establishing the dwelling place of the Shechinah among us.

This use of the machatzis hashekel underscores its special properties. The purpose of the Mishkon was to show the Bnei Yisroel that even after the Eigel, Hashem still loved them because they are collectively His people. After all is said and done, after all the actions and words each Jew performs, we are all equal members of the Bnei Yisroel. The foundation of the Mishkon came from donations that reflected this truth. The contributions caused a realization of our achdus, which is at the foundation of the Mishkon, and thus the Shechinah was enabled to rest among us, hovering over the Mishkon.

For most people, Purim marks one year since we were attacked by the coronavirus. Let us use this period of shekolim and the miracles of Purim, which were fostered by achdus, to do what we can to strengthen unity in our world so that we may merit the return of the Shechinah and its protection from ongoing negef.

This week, we usher in Adar, the month that embodies simcha and achdus. While we are all familiar with the generally accepted Purim-related reasons for the increase of joy during this month, the Sefas Emes offers an interesting illumination. He says that since the Jewish people annually donated their half-shekolim to the Mishkon during Adar, it became a month of joy because their acts of donating caused them to be besimcha.

We recreate that simcha by reading the parsha of shekolim as Adar commences. We strengthen our commitments to each other and experience the satisfaction felt by a baal tzedakah. The parshiyos of nedivus lev lead into a season of joy.

During this month of marbin besimcha, let us concentrate on finding things to be happy about. Let us remember that we are ma’aminim bnei ma’aminim. We are people of deep faith. We know that just as sure as melting follows snow and sun follows rain, there is always a reason to hope and our faith will definitely be rewarded.

The Kamenitzer rosh yeshiva, Rav Yitzchok Scheiner, whose memory is fresh in our minds, spoke about his memories of the Chazon Ish. He related that besides his amazing brilliance, tzidkus and everything else that the Chazon Ish is famous for, “upon meeting him, you were overwhelmed by the impression of a freilicher Yid, with a face that radiated happiness.”

The Chazon Ish was encumbered by many personal hardships, which were compounded by him listening to challenges and tzaros of the people who flocked to him seeking advice, consolation and support. How was the sickly, weak, poor man able to always radiate happiness? The Chazon Ish offers a hint in his published letters, where he writes, “Ein kol eitzev ba’olam lemi shemakir ohr ha’oros shel ha’emes. Those who perceive the light of truth have no sadness.”

Those who know that everything that takes place is Divinely ordained for a higher purpose, those who know that there is no happenstance, those who know that a proper life is one lived with emunah and bitachon, and those who know that there is never a reason for yei’ush and that there is always room and reason for tikvah are never sad.

The Chazon Ish was one of those people. We can all be among those people and always find reason for joy, especially during Adar. Even when things aren’t going well, there are always things to be thankful for. We need to consider them instead of floundering in self-pity and sadness, which don’t do us any good.

Sadness is one of those things which feeds on itself. It is very difficult to climb out of a rut. Being positive gives us the power and the courage to benefit from every moment. As dark as everything seems, there is always some light to reflect on, positive things to remember and be thankful for.

Following the reading of Megillas Esther on Purim, we recite the piyut of Asher Heini, which describes the wickedness of Haman and delineates the reasons we celebrate his downfall. The first line of the piyut begins with an alef, and each subsequent line starts with the next letter of the Alef-Bais, concluding with the letter tof.

The verse that begins with the letter vov states, “Velo zochar rachamei Shaul…” Haman lacked the middah of hakoras hatov and conveniently forgot that the Jewish king Shaul had mercy on his grandfather over 400 hundred years prior.

Rav Dovid Soloveitchik, who was niftar last week, explained that we learn from this the importance of possessing proper middos and appreciating benefits we have accrued from others. Although Haman was wicked and desired to kill all the Jews in one day, his lack of appreciation of a favor that was done to his ancestor is recorded to his everlasting demerit.

Let us remember to appreciate those who have improved our world and made it a better place. Let us do what we can to emulate them and follow their example. Besides bringing joy to others, it will contribute to our own sense of simcha.

Let us seek to foster unity and camaraderie. Let us try to be uniters, not dividers; problem-solvers, not creators; joyful, not sad; and positive, not negative; and seek to enlarge our tent, instead of shrinking it. Let’s not be judgmental. Maybe just for this month let’s try to give other people the benefit of the doubt.

Let us do it with dignity and grace; and find favor in the eyes of Hashem and our fellow man. Let us do it so that we merit the geulah sheleimah bekarov.

Angels of Mercy

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

This week we lost two towering giants of Torah and avodah. Rav Dovid Soloveitchik passed away at the age of 99 and Rav Yitzchok Scheiner passed away at the age of 98. They lived within a few blocks of each other for most of their lives, though they got there from opposite directions. Klal Yisroel has not suffered a day such as this in our lifetimes.

Rav Dovid was the last surviving son of the Brisker Rov and heir to all that Bais Brisk is famous for. He was steeped in gadlus from a young age, serving as an example of untainted devotion to Torah and its treasured principles, never deviating an iota from them. Since he was a youngster in Brisk, through the war years, and since settling in Yerushalayim, he was areingeton in learning and teaching Torah.

We get an idea of what it meant to grow up as a son of the Brisker Rov from the way the Rov himself grew up. Rav Dovid recounted that when his father, Rav Velvel, was a young child, Rav Velvel’s father, Rav Chaim, saw that he was speaking to another youngster on Tisha B’Av. “What were you discussing?” asked Rav Chaim. The young Velvel answered that he was depicting to the boy the churban as described in Perek Hanizokin in Maseches Gittin.

“And how did the boy respond to what you told him?” the father asked the son.

“He told me that there is another version of the story in a book [written by a maskil].”

Rav Chaim told his young son that he must know that the boy is an apikores and that he must not be in his dalet amos.

That is the chinuch of Brisk, inculcating children from a young age to know what is right and what is wrong and to offer no excuses for anything or anyone who deviates from the truth of our mesorah.

Rav Dovid was a product of that chinuch and embodied Brisk in all he did. The lives of products of that chinuch revolve totally around Torah, the essence of which is emes, truth.

Rav Scheiner came from a very different world. Born to frum parents in Pittsburgh, he was educated in public school and enrolled in university before an enterprising meshulach by the name of Rav Avrohom Bender convinced his parents to send him to yeshiva in New York. Being in Pittsburgh, they didn’t know that there was a yeshiva in New York where they could send their son. In fact, they were happy to send him away from home, because Yitzchok had an irreligious cousin who would come over to play with him and they worried that he was a bad influence.

Rav Scheiner would say, “My career as a Jew began when I entered Mesivta Torah Vodaas… It began in a camp. The only yeshiva that was worth the name of a yeshiva had a summer camp and I was ill and needed a summer camp. So, I had a good time playing ball and I learned what it meant to be a Jew… The rebbe, Rav Shraga Feivel [Mendlowitz], made Yiddishkeit in America and he made me for a Jew.”

That was how Rav Scheiner was introduced to serious Torah learning at Torah Vodaas at the age of 18. Within a few years, he mastered learning and rose to the top. In fact, the rosh yeshiva, Rav Reuvein Grozovksy, wanted him as a son-in-law. When that didn’t work out, Rav Reuvein suggested him for the daughter of his brother-in-law, Rav Moshe Berenstein, who, like Rav Reuvein, was a son-in-law of Rav Boruch Ber Leibowitz, the prince of Torah and prime talmid of Rav Chaim Soloveitchik.

Rav Scheiner assumed his father-in-law’s position as rosh yeshiva of the Kamenitz Yeshiva in Yerushalayim upon his passing. He greatly expanded the yeshiva and led it faithfully until his passing.

Rav Soloveitchik began his career in harbotzas Torah saying chaburos in Kodshim sugyos to bochurim from Yeshivas Chevron. After his father’s passing, his older brother, Rav Berel, assumed his mantle. Rav Leizer Yudel Finkel, who was rosh yeshiva of Yeshivas Mir and close to the family, encouraged Rav Dovid to open a yeshiva and learn with talmidim. He did so, leading the yeshiva with great dedication, and saying shiurim until very recently.

Rav Leizer Yudel was fundamental in the harbotzas haTorah of Rav Scheiner as well. When he took over the Kamenitz Yeshiva together with his brother-in-law upon the passing of their father-in-law, they were quite young and were unable to raise the funds necessary to keep the yeshiva open and functioning. Rav Leizer Yudel told them to come to him every Rosh Chodesh and he would help them out. It was the money that he gave them that allowed the yeshiva to continue and allowed them to be marbitzei Torah.

One came from the firm chinuch of Brisk and the other came from public school, but they both ended up being on top of the yeshiva world. They both worked very hard in Torah, lived their lives lesheim Shomayim, outstanding examples of what it means to be ehrliche Yidden, one on Rechov Amos and the other a stone’s throw away on Rechov Tzefania.

They were different, but they were the same. Torah is what identified them and was their life’s mission.

Rav Dovid was a scion of greatness. Everything he said was measured and clearly thought through. Like his father and the other members of that illustrious family, his dikduk b’mitzvos was legendary. His only concern in life was to please Hashem. He had no interest in anything to do with olam hazeh. He worked day and night to understand every word of Gemara, Medrash and Chazal. It was his life. When he was learning a sugya, all his energy was utilized to really understand every word and concept. When he was doing a mitzvah, his entire being was invested in ensuring that he performed that mitzvah as best as humanly possible. When he gave a shiur, he made sure to fully comprehend the concepts he was discussing, and to express them in a way that those listening could gain and understand.

He was never nispoel from anything or anyone who wasn’t Torah-based. And there were never any exceptions.

He embraced the simplicity and majesty of Brisk, through personal conduct, devotion to halacha and mesorah, and living the life of a real ben chorin, dedicated to learned and teaching Torah.

Rav Scheiner was the same way. With unfailing emunah and bitachon, he demonstrated the way a Jew should live, what should be important to us, and that the material is immaterial when it comes to living a Torah life.

They both lived in small apartments, piled with seforim and infused with Torah. They both spent their days and nights learning and hureving in Torah. They had no concern for anything outside of the dalet amos shel halacha unless it related to Torah. They were as humble and self-effacing as people could be. They were both gedolim in hasmodah and pashtus and histapkus bemuat, all that we are supposed to aim for. They defined what it means to be an ehrliche Yid, a person who lives constantly with the objective of fulfilling chovaso b’olamo and nothing else.

Rav Velvel Soloveitchik, the son of Rav Dovid who inherited his position, summed up what his father was about: “Der tatteh hot farmukt der gantzeh shleimus fun yiddishkeit. My father embodied everything that is Yiddishkeit.”

Rav Dovid embodied ehrlichkeit. He embodied ameilus baTorah. He embodied dikduk bemitzvos. He embodied bittul hagashmiyus. He embodied everything that is good and special about Yidden.

And although he was on an exalted level, he was attached to his talmidim. He was able to touch the mochos and neshamos of American bochurim who would learn by him. He led them higher than they ever dreamt they could go. He would give them mussar, beginning from where others would end. He would painstakingly explain the Brisker shitah on various issues of the day and on hashkofah in general. Everything he said was based on what he had heard from his father, backed up by ma’amorei Chazal. He laid it out so clearly and with such honesty and humility that by the time he was done, it was hard to argue with what he had said. Everyone was affected and forever changed as he shed light on different issues.

No serious person who learned in his yeshiva ever looked at the world and at learning the same way again.

Rav Dovid was an ambassador of a world gone by. Born in Brisk on Erev Sukkos, as a teenager he was a refugee on the run from the Germans who wanted him and his people dead. He lived through bombardments and terror that he never forgot. He lost his mother and several siblings to the horrors of the war. Exactly eighty years ago, on Erev Shabbos Parshas Yisro he arrived with his father in Eretz Yisroel.

Essentially, he never left Brisk. He was here, but he was really there. His life was Brisk. His Torah was Brisk. His shemiras hamitzvos was Brisk. His stories were Brisk. He was the spiritual Brisk of 100 years ago. He walked among us, but was unaffected and uninfluenced by anything that happened today.

His great-grandfather, grandfather and father lived on in his mind. He was their ambassador, representing them, transmitting their Torah, their teachings, their thoughts, their anecdotes, their outlook on life, their mesorah, and their hashkofah to a new world that had grown up following the destruction of physical Brisk and that entire milieu.

His home and yeshiva were embassies showing a confounded world how to live and how to learn. When you stepped into his home, you stepped back in time. It was quite fitting that he lived on Rechov Amos, named for the novi Amos, who foretold of our day: “Hinei yomim bo’im.” Hashem says: “Behold days are coming in which there will be a tremendous hunger, not a hunger for bread and not a thirst for water, ki im lishmoa es divrei Hashem.’”

Those days have come.

Following the churban that Rav Dovid lived through, we have been resurrected. We are a nation hungering for Torah. Rav Dovid stepped into the breach created by his father’s passing, and together with his brothers, he showed thousands how to approach, study and observe the divrei Hashem.

We have all heard of Rav Shraga Feivel Mendlowitz, but very few people alive today ever saw him or studied under him. Rav Scheiner was his ambassador in Eretz Yisroel and later on in America as well. Back in the day, when Rav Scheiner learned there, Torah Vodaas was the prime bastion of Torah, as Rav Mendlowitz and Rav Shlomo Heiman, and later Rav Reuvein Grozovsky, painstakingly raised a cadre of bnei Torah who would go on to spread Torah to the masses. Rav Scheiner epitomized that world with his smile, simplicity and warmth, coupled with greatness in Torah, embracing and charging generations of students.

And like Rav Dovid, his softness disappeared when it came to Torah. When he was learning, he was like a lion seeking the truth in every sugya, and when someone said a sevorah that he disagreed with, he fought for the truth.

I did not learn in Rav Dovid’s yeshiva. I learned in the yeshiva across the street on Rechov Reishis Chochmah and would regularly see him. The way he walked in the street was awe-inspiring, as he went about his business always with an austere look on his face. In conversation, he exhibited bursts of good humor, but otherwise he was deep in thought, considering things much more important than what was going on around him.

I had arrived as a bochur in Yerushalayim during Elul and found a dirah up the street from Rav Dovid on Rechov Ovadia. On Sukkos, the custom in Brisk is to make a brocha on the rosh yeshiva’s esrog and lulav. I was new to the Brisker habits and figured that instead of trekking the distance to Rav Avrohom Yehoshua Soloveitchik to make the brocha, I would take a few steps and go to Rav Dovid.

I got on the line and noticed that he was eyeing me as I waited. When it came my turn, he didn’t want to let me hold the esrog. He didn’t recognize me and was concerned that perhaps I would not have in mind when lifting the esrog that I will immediately return it to him as halacha dictates, or perhaps I would not handle it properly and thus render it unfit.

I told him that I was “Keller’s cousin” and that he could trust me. He said, “An einikel fun Rav Levin? Are you a grandson of Rav Leizer Levin?” When I answered in the affirmative, he smiled, welcomed me, and handed me the esrog “al menas lehachzir.”

I inquired and found out that the Brisker Rov had once given a shlichus to Rav Levin to perform and was happy with the way he had fulfilled the Rov’s request. Rav Levin earned the Rov’s respect and that of his children and family.

Later that year, I got married in Yerushalayim and Rav Dovid visited my zaide, Rav Levin, who had come for the wedding, in the apartment I had just moved into in Ezras Torah. I had nothing to offer him besides boiled water, and he made a lechayim on that and showered me with brachos. It was a special honor.

As a bochur, I also came to know Rav Yitzchok Scheiner and ate Shabbos meals at his home several times. He was always unfailingly kind and welcoming. His wife was a tzadeikes. Stepping into their apartment, I felt as if I was in a different world, the world of Shabbos.

The room was lit by a couple of small battery-powered low-watt bulbs. The dining room shined with a holy glow. Everything was as simple as could be, but seemed as beautiful as any Shabbos table anywhere. There was some small talk, but most of the conversation was in learning.

The walls were lined with well-worn seforim, double stacked on shelves, and piled high. I knew that after I left, he would be sitting by the table for hours with those seforim.

Rav Dovid would tell his talmidim that in every situation, even when momentous happenings are occurring in the world, our primary consideration should be to consider what the Torah demands of us in a time like this. Performing mitzvos is the most important thing in the world, and everything else that takes place is nothing when compared to a “maaseh mitzvah.”

He would say that what is going on around us and in the world should have no impact on how we observe mitzvos. He gave an example to drive home his point. During the devastating earthquake in Tzefas 184 years ago, there was understandably a great commotion as people shrieked and ran for their lives. There was a tzaddik who shouted to people to recite the brocha of “oseh maaseh bereishis,” which is said in times such as then. This is the way we are supposed to live. Our primary thought should be to consider what the Torah wants us to do in any given situation.

With this, Rav Dovid would explain the incident at the beginning of Parshas Vayeira. While Hashem was speaking to Avrohom following his bris, Avrohom noticed three travelers headed his way. He interrupted his conversation with Hashem to tend to the unknown people.

The question is often asked why Avrohom interrupted his conversation with Hashem because of a couple of hot, thirsty wanderers. Rav Dovid would say that if Rabbon Shimon Bar Yochai, or the Vilna Gaon, or the Arizal, or the Chofetz Chaim would come to visit you, you would be so overjoyed that you would ignore everything else and bask in the glow of your visitor. How is it that Avrohom forfeited the greatest zechus possible because of some strangers?

He would answer that while gilui Shechinah is the loftiest level a person can achieve, it is not a mitzvah. Hachnosas orchim is a mitzvah and therefore takes precedence.

Only a holy person whose life revolved around fulfilling mitzvos could conceive of that p’shat. That person was Rav Dovid Soloveitchik. The man who sat and learned Torah as his life was upended and bombs were falling all around him. The man who didn’t care for anything that was tied to the physicality of olam hazeh.

Thankfully, Bais Brisk endures, as the next generations continue teaching and spreading its Torah and messages to bnei Torah from the world over who are attracted to the yeshivos of Brisk, where their minds are shaped and neshamos become loftier and holier. They go on to impact their children and talmidim, spreading the emes and derech hachaim of Brisk yet further.

Rav Scheiner passed away during the levayah of Rav Dovid. People may wonder how they can be expected to reach the level of Rav Dovid, who was infused with gadlus and Toras Brisk from the time he learned to speak and was a vestige of a world gone by. A person may think to himself: I was born in America to a simple good family, far from Brisk and all that it represents. I grew up in olam hazeh with the Yankees, pizza, and Coca Cola. It is impossible for me to reach such heights.

Rav Yitzchok Scheiner is the response to those questions. He grew up far from a Torah metropolis, went to public school, and was a Pirates fan. He began learning in a yeshiva at the age of 18 and rose to the pinnacle of achievement. If he could, so can we.

If you asked anyone who knew Rav Scheiner and fell under his spell to describe him in one word, they would say that he was a malach.

The Chazon Ish is quoted to have said that the children of the Brisker Rov were malochim, angels. What did he mean? He meant that they were angelic in how they led their lives. Angelic in how they punctiliously observed mitzvos. Angelic in how they dealt with people. Angelic in how they treated their talmidim. Angelic in how they transmitted Torah to the next generation. They were like angels in how they portrayed what it meant to be holy, separated from the triteness and follies of the world. They were as if from a different planet, living their lives for Hashem. They knew how to live and shared their secrets with us. Those angels changed the world of Torah, propagating and promulgating Toras Brisk.

They touched us all, raised our lives, and showed us how to live. And now they are gone, but their Torah and mitzvos and avodas Hashem live on for eternity, brightening our world and enhancing our lives until the coming of Moshiach. May it be very soon. Bechol yom sheyavo.