The Climb

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

A certain sadness washes over many people when Yom Tov ends, and they find difficulty in returning to performing the various mundane activities that comprise our days. After weeks of preparation for the great chag and then eight days of bliss, joyfully performing mitzvos, enjoying the family, partaking of special meals, taking trips, visiting old friends and the like, it suddenly all comes to a crashing end. After drinking the eight kosos at the Sedorim and making Kiddush so many times, the most difficult cup to drink has to be the one we made Havdollah on at the conclusion of the glorious Yom Tov.

Perhaps the way to deal with the shock re-entry into the world is to seek to maintain a more spiritual level of life as we practiced over Yom Tov rather than quickly jettisoning everything and jumping headfirst into the rat race.

The Netziv, in his introduction to his peirush on Shir Hashirim, discusses the posuk (Devorim 16:8) which states an obligation to eat matzah for six days, followed by a seventh day, which is an atzeres when all work is forbidden: “Sheishes yomim tochal matzos uvayom hashvi’i atzeres laHashem Elokecha lo saaseh melocha.” He says that the last day of Pesach is to inculcate in us the achievements of the Yom Tov so that they remain after the chag has ended.

The Ramchal discusses in several places that matzah is analogous to good and to the yeitzer tov. Chometz is analogous to sin and to the yeitzer hora.

When Hashem redeemed the Jews from slavery on the 15^th of Nissan, they were at the 49^th level of depravity. Therefore, He extended His powers, so to speak, and caused a great Divine light to shine that evening, immediately removing them from Mitzrayim before they would sink further and be rendered beyond salvation.

Every year, those powers reappear at the time that they originally were apparent to save the Jews. In order to raise ourselves to the level where we can benefit from them, we partake of the matzah, which influences us letov and strengthens the yeitzer tov. Abstaining from bread and chometz, we weaken the power of the yeitzer hora. Coupled with the other mitzvos of the night that we perform, viewing ourselves as if we have been plucked from Mitzrayim, we can raise ourselves to the degree that we can benefit from the special hashpa’os that are manifest that first day of Yom Tov, and in golus the first two days.

After the boost that we receive on the first days of Yom Tov, the extra hashpa’os are removed and it is up to us to maintain the heights we reached. The Bnei Yisroel, at the time of their redemption, returned to the level of tumah they were on in Mitzrayim. The Medrash cites the malochim complaining at Kriyas Yam Suf, “Halalu ovdei avodah zorah vehalalu ovdei avodah zorah,” the Jews were disbelievers like their Mitzri pursuers.

This is why we were given the mitzvah of Sefiras Ha’omer, enabling us to return to where Klal Yisroel was at the time of the first day of Yom Tov. Each day, we are able to rectify another middah and climb another rung as we ascend to Shavuos. We are then able to achieve the associated tikkunim.

Sefirah is the bridge that transports us from Pesach to Shavuos. Pesach and the freedom it represents is not an end to itself, but the beginning of a longer journey. Hashem redeemed us from slavery in Mitzrayim so that we could go on to complete the reason we – and the world – were created. From there, He took us to Har Sinai and presented us with the Torah, the defining essence of our people.

Thus, we celebrate Pesach, relive the experience of deliverance and freedom, and count towards Shavuos to show that we understand why we were freed and what the essence of our life should be. Each day, as we count, we seek to improve, so that by the time of Matan Torah, we will be worthy of the gift.

Therefore, instead of a countdown of how many days remain towards the anticipated date, we count forward – “Today is day one, today is day two” - until we complete the count and reach Shavuos. Each day, we proclaim that we have rectified another facet of our behavior and raised ourselves another step, climbing towards the goal.

We recognize that to receive the Torah, we have to devote ourselves to the task of becoming better and more wholesome. Every day, we work on getting a little better, a little holier, a little less enamored by physical attractions, becoming drawn instead to things spiritual, real and eternal.

As we count Sefirah, we admit that we won’t get where we need to go if we are apathetic and lazy. We have to be energetic about our mission and recognize that success in life requires ambition, drive and hard work.

We take time each day to work on attaining a purity of character and clarity of thought necessary to function as bnei and bnos Torah. We acknowledge that scrolling through posts and flipping through glossy appeals to our lower forms do not aid us in the pursuit of what makes us better and happier people.

The mourning aspects of the Sefirah period have so taken over the seven weeks between Pesach and Shavuos that we can sometimes forget that there is more to Sefirah than refraining from weddings, haircuts and listening to music.

During Sefirah, we work to raise ourselves from the level of se’orim, which comprises the Korban Omer brought on Pesach, to the more refined chitim of the Shtei Halechem of Shavuos.

Chazal (Yoma 9b) teach that the second Bais Hamikdosh was destroyed because of sinas chinom. Simply explained, the people looked down upon each other out of baseless hatred. Perhaps we can say that until the period during which the talmidim of Rabi Akiva died because of a lack of respect for each other, there was hope that the Jews would be able to repent for the sins that caused the churban Bais Hamikdosh. However, when the terrible plague struck the Jewish people and the 24,000 talmidim died, it became obvious that the people were overcome with sinas chinom and were lacking in ahavas Yisroel and achdus.

They realized that there would be no quick solution to their golus under the Romans unless they would quickly repent for their sins. The fact that the mageifah took place during the days of Sefirah, when we are to be engaging in daily introspection and improvement, indicated that not only were the people not worthy of Torah, but they were also not worthy of the Bais Hamikdosh.

The same components that are necessary for kabbolas haTorah are necessary for geulah, so this special period of Sefirah was chosen as a time to improve ourselves and prepare not only for Torah, but also for geulah. By mourning the loss of the talmidim, we are reminded of the punishment for not loving each other and dealing with each other respectfully. We see what happens when there is sinas chinom and a lack of respect for each other.

At the time of the churban, the people excelled in the study and observance of Torah, mitzvos and chesed (see Yoma, ibid.). The only area in which they were lacking was ahavas Yisroel. That alone was enough to cause the destruction of the Bais Hamikdosh and bring on golus.

In our day, we note the explosion of Torah and frum communities. There is so much that we can point to with great pride. Yeshivos and Bais Yaakovs are more plentiful and larger than ever. We have every conceivable type of chesed organization. There is unprecedented dikduk b’mitzvos. Yet, the fact that we remain in golus indicates that we are lacking in ahavas Yisroel and achdus. If sinas chinom wasn’t prevalent among us, if there would be proper mutual respect, and if there wouldn’t be machlokes and division, golus would have ended.

During these days of Sefirah, it is incumbent upon us to work to end the hatred, spite, cynicism and second-guessing of each other and of people who look different or see things differently than we do.

The Sefas Emes was once given a large sum of money for safekeeping by a visiting chossid. The rebbe placed the money in a secure place, but the next morning, it was gone. The rebbe entered the bais medrash and announced that davening would not begin until the money was returned to its rightful owner.

No one came forward.

Time passed, but the mystery wasn’t solved. Finally, the rebbe went into his house, called over one of the attendants, and said, “Give back the money you took.”

The attendant broke down and admitted his misdeed.

“If the rebbe knew who had taken the money,” the gabbai asked, “why did we have to wait so long to confront him?”

An elder chossid explained that the rebbe knew who the culprit was; that wasn’t the hard part. The challenge for the rebbe was being able to look another Jew in the face and accuse him of being a thief. It took the rebbe hours to get to that point, after he had exhausted all opportunities for the man to save face.

Upon hearing the chossid’s explanation, the Sefas Emes confirmed what he had said.

During these days of Sefirah, as we seek improvement and mourn the passing of Rabi Akiva’s students, we have to bring ourselves to the level of love and care for others that it hurts us to embarrass other people, even when they may be deserving of punishment. We must always do what we can to help people protect their dignity, as they were created in the image of Hashem.

As our communities grow large, bli ayin hora, there is a tendency to take others for granted and not be mindful of their needs and feelings. In a small community, every person is precious and is needed to form a cohesive group, so, naturally, their feelings and concerns are more readily addressed. In a small town, every customer in the kosher grocery is appreciated, as they are needed for the proprietor to earn an income. In larger communities, where there are more customers and clientele to choose from, the owner must be cognizant not to become flippant with the needs and feelings of his Jewish customers.

And it is not only storekeepers. Everyone who comes into contact with other people during the course of the day must take note of this. If we want to realize the levels the Torah sets for us to achieve goodness, contentment and Torah itself, we have to show respect for all. If we want to attain the freedom our forefathers did at the time of Yetzias Mitzrayim and merit the ultimate redemption, we have to not only achieve excellence in Torah and be more scrupulous in our conduct and observance, but also be more considerate and caring for all.

May we all merit to advance daily and acquire Torah and proper middos so that we merit the geulah sheleimah b’meheirah.

Transforming and Transmitting

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz 

My dear friend, Rav Eliezer Sorotzkin, was in the United States a couple of weeks ago, and we were discussing the loss of Rav Chaim Kanievsky zt”l. As head of Lev L’Achim and Chinuch Atzmai, he was privileged to interact with Rav Chaim on a regular basis. I asked him for stories only he could tell.

This is one of them.

Lev L’Achim accomplishes its phenomenal historic kiruv work through teaching people Torah. Groups of volunteer bnei Torah travel to secular areas and invite people to study Torah with them. As they study, they begin showing interest in the Torah way of life and many begin taking steps that lead them to Torah lives.

Some of the leaders had a custom that when a group would finish studying their first perek of Gemara, they would travel to Bnei Brak and make a siyum in Rav Chaim’s room. Rav Chaim did not participate. When he learned Torah, nothing could disturb him. He simply did not hear anything that was going on around him. The boys would gather around the table and someone would make the siyum. Everyone would make a lechaim, an attendant would alert Rav Chaim to their presence, and then they would pass Rav Chaim. The boys would look at him and say shalom. He would answer, “Buha,” and return to his learning.

Rav Sorotzkin related that, invariably, some members of the group would undertake to do teshuvah as they left the room. If he asked them what moved them to take the drastic step of adopting a Torah life, they would shrug their shoulders and say that they didn’t know why, but something came over them being in the room and seeing the tzaddik, and they just knew that they had to change their way of life.

Being in the very presence of a tzaddik is life-altering.

Rav Yitzchok Hutner would tell a story about a visitor to pre-war Vilna who retained the services of a local wagon driver. Baalei aggalah, wagon drivers, were notorious for their illiteracy. As the passenger made himself comfortable in the wagon, he removed a Gemara from his satchel and began to learn. The wagon driver took notice and turned around to ask the learned passenger what masechta he was studying. The passenger politely answered, certain that this would be the end of the conversation.

The baal aggalah persisted, asking what daf he was studying. The passenger responded without looking up, amused that a wagon driver would care not only what masechta he was learning, but also which page.

The driver asked one question, and then another, and, suddenly, a Talmudic pilpul ensued, with questions, arguments, and proofs being shared. The passenger was amazed by the scholarship of his driver and asked him what the secret of Vilna is that even the wagon drivers are talmidei chachomim.

“It is because we had the Vilna Gaon here,” responded the driver.

I assume that the story is apocryphal, because it continues that the visitor to Vilna asked the driver about the Gaon’s position in the city.

“Was he the rov?”

“No, he wasn’t.”

“Well, then, was he the rosh yeshiva?”

“Also not,” replied the wagon driver.

“So was he a maggid there, inspiring people to learn?”

“No, he was none of the above.”

“Then how did he succeed in infusing the people with such ahavas haTorah?” wondered the guest.

“Veil ehr iz da geven. Because he was here,” was the succinct answer.

Chazal tell us that at the beginning of time, Hakadosh Boruch Hu took the souls of the great tzaddikim and dispersed them throughout the generations, planting them at various junctures and stages in history - “shesolan bechol dor vador.” We were privileged to walk the same ground as Rav Chaim, be in the same room as him, and speak to him.

One of Rav Elazar Menachem Man Shach’s talmidim told him about his father-in-law, who had survived the horrors of the Holocaust, enduring unimaginable torture. He said that he asked his father-in-law how he was able to emerge from such a dark, bitter tunnel with his faith intact. The man said that when he was a small child, the Chofetz Chaim visited his village. His parents felt that he was too young and fragile to join the crowd of people jostling for a view of the famed tzaddik, but his grandfather insisted that the boy go.

His grandfather carried him to where the welcoming took place, and as they approached the Chofetz Chaim, he lifted the child high in the air so that he could see the face of the tzaddik.

He recounted many years later, “How did I remain strong in my faith? It’s because I saw the Chofetz Chaim’s face, and that image remained imprinted in my mind in the darkest times, giving me chizuk and hope when things were very dark.”

We gather at the Seder and everyone is obligated to view himself as if he was in Mitzrayim and was redeemed from there. As the Baal Haggadah writes, “Bechol dor vador chayov adam liros es atzmo ke’ilu hu yotza miMitzrayim.” The Rambam famously changes the word “liros,” which indicates that the obligation is for a person to view himself as if he was redeemed, to “leharos,” to demonstrate to others you yourself were redeemed.

We wonder: Why is the obligation at the Seder to imagine as if we ourselves were just freed from Mitzrayim? Why is it not sufficient to celebrate that Am Yisroel gained freedom and independence after two centuries-plus of servitude and deprivation?

The Ramchal teaches that every Yom Tov brings along with it the special hashpa’os that were prevalent at the time of the original neis that we are commemorating on that holy day. On Pesach, at the Seder, we seek to recreate the special feelings of the night that changed and charged our people so that we may merit those extraordinary hashpa’os which were evident on the 15^th of Nissan back in Mitzrayim and every year since.

But it goes deeper than that.

The Sefer Hachinuch (Mitzvah 16) questions why we have so many mitzvos to perform the night of the Seder. He explains that since on this night we began our trajectory to becoming the holy nation, every year, at that time, we undertake to perform actions that demonstrate the great heights we achieved on the same date and time. By performing those acts and imagining our feelings at that same time in Mitzrayim, we set those levels in ourselves for our lifetime. This, he says, is why there is an abundance of mitzvos on this night, because by performing them, our hearts and souls are changed and improved, and thus the more, the merrier.

Perhaps we can add that davka because the act of performing a mitzvah influences our character and changes us for the better, on a night when we are charged with transmitting the truths of our emunah to the next generation, we are given so many mitzvos. They change our very being. Therefore, as we do the mitzvos and contemplate what transpired on this evening so many years ago, imagining as if we ourselves were freed and formed into a free, holy, ambitious, growing person, we merit the special hashpa’os of this holy night. Not only our neshamos, but also our faces begin to glow with kedusha and taharah as we are transformed. Our children and grandchildren take notice, and those images are forever etched in their memories and neshamos.

I write from personal experience. When I was a young child, our family would travel every year to Detroit and partake in the Seder of my sainted grandfather, Rav Eliezer Levin.

Back in those days, my father would pick up a Drive Away car that had to be driven from New York to Detroit. It was the cheapest mode of travel and we didn’t have much money. My parents would pack us into the car - this was before the advent of seat belts, car seats, and vans - and off we’d go. My father would drive through the night. We kids would fall asleep in Monsey and we’d wake up at Zaidy’s house.

We were all up for the Seder; we wouldn’t miss it for anything. My grandfather sat there looking like a Malach Elokim Tzvakos. He spoke to us about Yetzias Mitrzayim and the mitzvos of the Seder in a way that remains etched in my heart to this very day. He was mekayeim the liros es atzmo and leharos es atzmo lemehadrin, with overwhelming joy and devotion.

His maaseh mitzvos were mashpia not only on him, but on everyone who sat at that table. We felt the joy of leaving Mitzrayim, the simcha of being a Yid, of eating matzos, drinking Arba Kosos, and doing mitzvos in general.

As the Sefer Hachinuch says, those actions and feelings remain etched in my soul forever, impacting me and making me a better person and a better Yid.

The Seder is the time when we are best able to feel the cheirus afforded every member of Klal Yisroel. When we transport ourselves back all those years to Yetzias Mitzrayim, it becomes real to us. As we perform the mitzvos of the night properly, they influence and change us. The Seder has the ability to transfix us, as it grips us in the enthrallment of the moment. We become like little angels riveting our children and grandchildren with the splendor of our way of life, of Torah and mitzvos.

The beautifully set table, the kittel, the matzos, the wine, the Haggados, the Mah Nishtanah, the songs, even the pillows - all the disparate aspects of the glorious image come together and forge memories and people.

My Zaide is no longer here. Nor are my parents. Now it is up to me to carry on their traditions, to light the fires in the souls of my children and grandchildren. It is up to all of us at our Sedorim to charge the room, imagine ourselves leaving Mitzrayim, showing our families what it feels like, transmitting the glory and magnificence of the moment. It is up to us to transmit the holiness and dedication of our parents and grandparents to the next generations. It is up to us to present that image of holiness that our grandchildren will hearken back to for the rest of their long lives.

We, who have experienced the ups and downs of life, who know of defeat and triumph, who appreciate what it means to be an eternal people, who appreciate being part of the Am Hanivchar, have an obligation to transmit the glory of Yetzias Mitzrayim 3,334 years ago, and the subsequent Yetzios Mitzrayim that Jews have experienced throughout the ages, as well as those that we ourselves have experienced. The Seder is the time to give all of that over so that our children and grandchildren can have the opportunity to be as blessed as we are to live joyous Torah lives in freedom.

Is there a greater joy? Is there a greater opportunity for joy and fulfillment?

Adopt-a-Kollel is a remarkable organization performing historic work, bringing much needed support to kollelim across Eretz Yisroel. For Pesach, they sent me a fabulous Haggadah named Toras Chaim, containing divrei Torah and stories of Rav Chaim Kanievsky. It was written by Rav Shalom Meir Vallach, who annually produces a new Haggadah from a different gadol which is a pleasure to read and learn from. This one was published four years ago.

He writes that someone asked Rav Chaim for advice on how to achieve simcha. He responded that the question is out of place, and he explained. The Brisker Rov was once watching children running around, playing and smiling as they were having a good time. He asked the people who were accompanying him why the children were happy.

They answered that the children were joyful because they didn’t have possessions and other things to worry about.

The Brisker Rov was not satisfied with their response. He said that when Hashem created the world, He created a happy place. But as people get older, they become ruined and therefore lose their joy. Children are still straight, the way Hashem created them, and therefore they are happy.

Thus, said Rav Chaim, when you ask how to achieve happiness, that indicates that a person is a depressed, sorry, sad creature, and when Yom Tov comes around, it is incumbent upon him to change his nature. In fact, the opposite is true. Man’s natural state is to be happy and joyful; our task is return to that.

On Pesach, at the Seder, we have the ability to experience our natural state of joy. Let’s do our best to achieve it and bring everyone who is with us along. May we all feel it, and may it remain with us until the great day when we will all be in Yerushalayim habenuyah.

Spark of Holiness

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

Listen to this story about Rav Chaim Kanievsky zt”l, about leadership, responsibility, chinuch, and caring about every Jewish child.

One morning, twenty-five years ago, after davening Shacharis kevosikin, Rav Chaim turned to his trusted driver and assistant, Rav Yeshaya Epstein, and told him that he needed to go somewhere immediately. It was pikuach nefesh.

Rav Chaim directed Rav Epstein to his daughter’s home. Rav Chaim knocked on the door until she woke up. When she came to open the door, he apologized for waking her and asked her to get in touch with a certain rosh yeshiva and inform him that Rav Chaim reconsidered his statement to him the evening before to send out a certain bochur from his yeshiva. “Tell him that I said that he should not expel him,” he told her.

When they arrived home, Rav Epstein apologized to the rebbetzin for their delayed arrival from davening, explaining that it was because Rav Chaim asked him to go somewhere. The rebbetzin responded, “I know what it was. It was concerning that bochur.”

She explained: “Last night, after the rov finished kabbalat kahal and everyone had left, he woke me from my sleep. He said to me, ‘Listen what happened. A rosh yeshiva arrived during kabbalat kahal and told me about something a bochur in his yeshiva had done. He wasn’t sure how to react. I told him that he should send the boy out of the yeshiva. Later on, a boy came and began to cry to me. He told me that he had done something terribly wrong and wanted to know how he should go about doing teshuvah. I asked him, ‘Where do you learn?’ He told me that he learned under the rosh yeshiva who had been by me earlier this evening. I immediately understood that this was the boy the rosh yeshiva had asked about. I was convinced that the boy sincerely regretted what he had done. He had performed a teshuvah sheleimah and I felt that the rosh yeshiva needs to let him return to the yeshiva.

“‘I know,’ the rov said, ‘that if I would tell him that the boy did teshuvah, he would not be convinced. So I am going to accept it upon myself and tell him that I changed my mind and decided that the boy should not be sent out of the yeshiva.’”

The rebbetzin continued, “After saying that, he said to me that we should sit together and say Tehillim for the boy that he should not be sent away from the yeshiva. So, when you told me that he asked you to take him somewhere, I knew that it was pertaining to that boy.”

We see from here the importance of every person, even someone you don’t know, even someone who did something that merited being thrown out of yeshiva.

When Rav Chaim saw the spark of holiness in the boy and that he regretted what he had done, he immediately decided that he had to do what he could to help the boy. Thus, he woke his wife to daven with him for the boy, and early the next morning woke his daughter to make the call blaming himself for offering incorrect advice. The boy deserved another chance and Rav Chaim made sure he got it.

From the Torah’s instructions of how to speak to our children concerning Yetzias Mitzrayim, we learn the importance of caring about every child and finding a mode of communication suitable for him.

As we begin the month of Nissan, our minds instinctively think of the Seder, when we sit with family and recount the geulah from Mitzrayim and the ultimate redemption, for which this month is an opportune time.

At the Seder, every father speaks with his family about how Hashem took us out of Mitzrayim, using his talents to hold the attention of the children as the evening progresses, while discussing with the others the eternal messages and lessons of the Haggadah.

This Shabbos is referred to as Shabbos Hagadol because of the great miracle that took place on the Shabbos prior to the geulah from Mitzrayim. The date upon which that miracle transpired is Yud Nissan, though unlike every other miracle that we commemorate, the celebration takes place on the day it happened, Shabbos, not the date it happened.

Perhaps this is because what we commemorate on Shabbos Hagadol is that the Jews fearlessly risked their lives to bring to their homes the sheep they were preparing for the Korban Pesach. The Mitzriyim worshipped sheep, and the Jews let them know that they were planning to sacrifice their gods. That act was the commencement of the geulah from their centuries-long slavery.

On Shabbos Hagadol, we commemorate that back on that Shabbos, 10 Nissan 2448, the process of geulah began, and we hope that it will be completed soon with the arrival of Moshiach. Every week, as we celebrate Shabbos, we are able to experience a taste of the World to Come, when we will merit the redemption from golus. Therefore, Shabbos is the appropriate day for the celebration.

It is on this Shabbos before Pesach that we celebrate the faith of the soon-to-be freed slaves. Despite having spent their entire lives in obedient slavery until that point, they braved threats of torture and death and followed Hashem’s commandment to bring home sheep and tie them to their beds. On this Shabbos, as we are reminded of their emunah and bitachon, we seek to learn from them and follow their example. We daven that just as their emunah and bitachon led them to geulah, so shall ours.

We begin reciting the Haggadah on Shabbos Hagadol to remember the nissim and do what we can to merit our geulah. Instead of waiting until the night of the Seder, we begin a few days prior, studying the pesukim, Medroshim and meforshim, preparing the material and language in which to deliver the messages and stories in a way that everyone will understand.

The Torah invests each father with the sacred task of inspiring his children about how Hashem took us out of Mitzrayim. The Rambam (Hilchos Chometz Umatzoh 7:2) writes that it is incumbent upon fathers to teach their children about Yetzias Mitzrayim on their level. There is no one way to teach and get the message across. It has to be adapted to the level and understanding of the child.

The Torah discusses questions that children may pose. A different response is suggested for each type of child. Rashi quotes the Mechilta and the Yerushalmi in Pesochim that state, “Dibrah Torah keneged arbaah bonim.”

The Baal Haggadah says, “Keneged arbaah bonim dibrah Torah,” the Torah speaks about four types of sons who ask about Pesach observances. There is the smart, the wicked, the ignorant, and the one who is so simple that he cannot express himself.

It is interesting to note that the Haggadah introduces this concept by stating, “Boruch haMakom boruch hu, boruch shenosan Torah le’amo Yisroel.” Hashem is to be praised for giving us the Torah - “keneged arbaah bonim dibrah Torah.” We praise Hashem for giving us the Torah, which speaks - and is relevant - to different types of children and people.

While every father wants to be blessed with smart, all-knowing, well-behaved children, when his offspring don’t necessarily turn out that way, the Torah provides the language with which to reach every type of child. As frustrated as he must feel, a father of such a child doesn’t have the option of ignoring or speaking roughly to him.

Every child is born with the potential for greatness. Should a child deviate from the path we wanted for him, we must not give up on him. The Torah requires us to reach out to and speak to him in a language that he can understand.

Essentially, this is the message of the posuk in Mishlei which states, “Chanoch lanaar al pi darko.” The premise of that advice is that every child has a derech. There is a distinct path to the heart of every child. There is no child who cannot be reached when the language and approach meant for that child are utilized.

Communication seems to be a lost art, but if we want people to appreciate our way of life, if we want to have a better chance of our children following in our ways, and if we want to have a positive impact on those around us and on the world in general, we have to work to think clearly and articulate our thoughts cogently.

Too often, we repeatedly mouth the same platitudes and then wonder why our points are not getting across. Often, this happens because we do not take the time and expend the effort to understand the mentality of the people we are seeking to influence. Thus, our arguments fail, either because we are not properly addressing their concerns or because our logic is communicated in a language and with methods that people do not relate to. Effective communication means understanding not only the topic, but also the thought process and the value system of the people we are addressing. We should take the time to prepare what we want to say and how to say it so that it will resonate with the audience.

Moshe Rabbeinu was not a gifted orator; in fact, he was quite the opposite. His koach was b’peh, but not because he wowed people with his oratory skills. He convinced his audience with the content of his words, not by the way he expressed them. He influenced people with the strength of his arguments.

The Drashos HaRan says that the Ribbono Shel Olam caused Moshe Rabbeinu to stutter so that it would be evident that his successful transmission of the Torah to Klal Yisroel was due to the effectiveness and potency of his message and not his speaking style.

There is no match for genuine concern. A good educator succeeds when he views each student with an appreciation that there is a language and a path that can reach his soul and tailors the message accordingly.

Just as there are arbaah bonim, four sons, there are also four expressions, arba leshonos, of geulah. Perhaps this is a hint that in order to bring about the ultimate geulah, we have to use the proper language for every type of child.

If we only speak in one lashon, we will not succeed in reaching everyone and we will not succeed in bringing about the geulah. The geulah is dependent upon everyone’s devotion to the mitzvos of the Torah.

Golus Mitzrayim was preordained to last 400 years. When that time period concluded, the geulah arrived, despite the state of the Jewish people at that time. Unfortunately, the present golus, which is known as Golus Edom, has no predetermined end. Instead, the end of the golus depends upon us, our dedication to Torah, our emunah and bitachon, and our teshuvah. It is only when Klal Yisroel does teshuvah that Hashem will bring us Moshiach and the geulah.

With the right words, we can change the world, providing strength, humility, wisdom, joy, resilience, pride and, ultimately, the redemption.

A mechanech traveled from Yerushalayim to Bnei Brak to consult with the Chazon Ish on chinuch matters. Before he had a chance to begin speaking, the Chazon Ish turned to him and said, “I see on your face that you are not happy. You need to know that it is impossible to reach children without simcha. It is impossible.”

We have to reach the proper level of happiness and learn the correct words and leshonos with which to reach people of all ages. May Hashem assist us in raising a generation of satisfied, good people, and together – parents and children, teachers and students – merit the geulah sheleimah and greet Moshiach, bimeheirah biyomeinu.