Bobov Wedding 45 st. 1/24/11

IRANIUM

The genius of Rav Moshe Feinstein

Rav Moshe Feinstein


Rav Moshe Feinstein, the great gaon and posek of the 20th Century, was the decider of many sheilos (questions regarding Jewish law), many being questions warranted by the new technology as it emerged in modern times, and others relating to modern issues in American life. On one occasion, a not-too-religious father approached him at home regarding his son's possible college education. The story goes as follows:

The man and his wife dragged their son to the home of Rav Moshe so that he would convince their son that college was the next logical step in his life. The boy had attended yeshiva up until the end of high school, and now wished nothing more than to continue on with his yeshiva education. The father sat down at the table, leaned in to Rav Moshe, and said in a hard voice, "my son wants to go to yeshiva, but my wife and I want him to go to college. Now, I'm going to prove to You Rabbi from YOUR Torah that he goes to college. First of all, it says in YOUR Torah that majority rules, correct?" "Correct," said Rav Moshe. "Second, it says that each person has three partners in life: His mother, his father, and G-d. Correct?" "Yes." "Well let us make you G-d, Rabbi Feinstein, in this little arrangement. Taking my son's three partners into account, I say he goes to college, my wife says he goes to college, and you obviously say that he goes to yeshiva. That's two against one! We win. He goes to college!"

Rav Moshe thought for a second, and said, "you are absolutely right. Each person is made up of three partners, his mother, his father, and G-d. That means that I have three partners, you have three partners and your wife has three partners. Your mother and father say he goes to college, and G-d says he goes to yeshiva. That's two against one. Your wife's parents say that he goes to college, and G-d says that he goes to yeshiva. That's four against two. Now, my mother, my father and G-d all say that he goes to yeshiva. That's five against four in our favor. We win. He goes to yeshiva." The man looked at Rav Moshe squarely in the face, and said emphatically, "If THAT is what he is going to learn in yeshiva, then he is going to yeshiva."

And the matter was cleared up in just under ten minutes.

Famous Births Part I - Ba'al Shem Tov and the Divrei Chaim

The story of the birth of the Ba'al Shem Tov is taken from an earlier post on the subject of hachnasas orchim (hospitality to guests).

Reb Eliezer, father of the Ba'al Shem Tov, was known for the mitzvah of hachnasas orchim. He would go so far as to send out emissaries to the town's crossroads, in order to see if anybody passing through might need a meal or refreshments, or even a place to stay for the night. He was also known for giving out money to travelers for provisions for the road. His actions were so great that his name became known up above. It was decided that he would be put to the ultimate test. The Satan immediately came forward and volunteered to carry out this test. But Eliyahu HaNavi (Elijah the Prophet) said that it would be more proper for he himself to go down to this world. And so it was.

One day on shabbos, Reb Eliezer got a knock on the door. He opened it to find a disheveled and slightly confused-looking man holding a sack over his back with a walking stick in hand. He was clearly being mechalel shabbos (desecrating the Sabbath). But Reb Eliezer promptly invited him in, prepared the third meal of shabbos for him to eat, and did not say one word to put him to shame. After shabbos he lavished him with a melavah malkah (meal that symbolizes taking leave of shabbos), and the man ate his fill. In the morning, Reb Eliezer gave the man some money for his upkeep, and escorted him to the door. Walking over the threshold he turned back to Reb Eliezer, and said, "you should know that I am Eliyahu HaNavi, and I have come down to give you a test. You did not make me feel ashamed, and due to this, you have been found worthy to beget a son who will illuminate the eyes of all of Israel." The blessing was subsequently fulfilled, and Reb Eliezer's wife gave birth to a baby boy within the year. Little did they know just how much light and fire he would bring to Israel and just how far it would spread.


The father of the Divrei Chaim of Sanz, Reb Leibush of Ternigrad, often visited Reb Moshe of Pshevorsk. On one of his visits the daughter of Reb Moshe, who was a mature twelve year-old, passed by the kitchen where the two gaonim were standing. Reb Moshe jumped backwards as she passed, and needed a second to catch his breath. His preeshus (separation from earthly things) was so great that he did not even recognize his own daughter (he, like many tzaddikim, went to great lengths to guard their eyes from temptation, especially from the sight of women, although not recognizing one's daughter is beyond the call). He did not even know her age. The Rebbetzin looked at him incredulously, and asked, "is this not our own daughter?" Answered Reb Moshe: "If we have a daughter that is already that age then we need such and such an amount of money to marry her off." Reb Leibush was standing with a small sack of money in his hands. He had planned on traveling to Danzig for business after he took leave of Reb Moshe, but when he heard Reb Moshe's words, he simply handed over the package of money. Reb Moshe, astonished at this gesture, knew not what to say or how to respond to such generosity, so he bentched Reb Leibush "b'zera shel kodesh," and said, "may you have a son that will illuminate the world," because up until that point he had no boys. The beracha came to fruition, and soon after was born the Divrei Chaim.

Have you ever heard a story of such preeshus as describe above involving Reb Moshe?

This is a bit of a different matter, but it reminds me of the story of a Rebbe who was walking with his gabbai (attendant), when the gabbai jumped back, and did a little dance. The Rebbe asked what the matter was, and the gabbai responded, "I bumped into a poll, but I thought it was a woman!" The Rebbe said, "Fool! When you bump into a woman you're supposed to think that it's a poll."

Reb Nachum of Chernobyl and the Mountain Jews

Reb Nachum of Chernobyl, founding Chernobyler Rebbe, was a disciple of the Maggid of Mezritch. Early on, the Maggid told Reb Nachum to become a maggid himself (preacher; someone who goes around rousing people to repentance), and travel to off-the-beaten-path communities to provide inspiration and hope to downtrodden Jews.

During his travels, Reb Nachum happened upon a small community in an even smaller town. As was his custom, he would go to the town square, and announce himself. "I am a traveling salesman. I have needles, in case anyone needs prodding. I have perfumes if anyone needs to be uplifted. And I have soothing balms for the soul." He would then tell the townsfolk to assemble in the shul at a particular time so that he could preach inspirational words. Next to this particular community stood a mountain. The townspeople informed Reb Nachum that there was a small community of Jews up top, just a few minyanim (quorums) worth of Jews, but it was no easy feat getting up the mountain. They were a community of woodcutters and lumberjacks. There was also an elderly affluent man who lived atop the mountain, not because he particularly wanted to live there, but because he had a lung disease, and the fresh mountain air was good for his health.

Reb Nachum resolved to make his way up the fairly steep hill. Atop the mountain he found the local shul, pulled out a sefer (religious book), and waited until the people assembled for mincha (afternoon prayer). Nobody came for mincha, nor did anyone show up for maariv (evening prayer). He went for a walk, and bumped into a Jew. Upon inquiring as to why nobody in the community davened mincha or maariv, he was told, "you know, it's tough for a Jew to make a living. Nobody really has the time to daven daily. And besides, when we do daven, we do so at the old man's house. He has trouble making his way to the shul, so we assemble in his house on particular days of the week." Reb Nachum, frustrated, began to walk around. Word got out to the community that this was Reb Nachum of Chernobyl who was gracing their town. Various people vied for the honor of having Reb Nachum spend the night at their home, and after some debate, a host was chosen.

It was arranged that Reb Nachum would daven with the minyan in the old man's house in the morning. He awoke early, and asked his host to direct him to the mikveh (ritual bath). "The mikveh...well...you know Rebbe" said his host sheepishly. "What's the problem?" asked Reb Nachum. "Well," said his host, now stammering, "we..we don't have a mikveh. You see, at one point we wanted to build a mikveh, so we got craftsmen from the next town to give us an estimate. It came out to 300 gold coins, and we can't afford anything near that price. You know how it is. They would have to dig very deep being that we're on top of a mountain." Reb Nachum was dumbfounded. After shacharis at the old man's house he stood up, and announced that the entire community should meet at the shul at such and such a time. "Everyone," said Reb Nachum. "That includes men, women and children."

When everyone was assembled later that day, Reb Nachum took the podium. A few minutes into his speech the small crowd was aghast. The Rebbe was extolling his own virtues. He delved into each period of his life; how when he was a child his father taught him how to daven, and how he cultivated his avodah (worship) to celestial heights over the years; how he began learning at a very young age, and how people were amazed at his precociousness; how well he excelled in the entire spectrum of Yiddishkeit... Why would the Rebbe talk about himself with haughtiness, they wondered! When he was finished speaking, he said, "and all of the zechus (merit) that I have amassed up until this point, the entire bounty of my reward for all endeavors and successes I have just enumerated; my entire chelek in olam habah (portion in the world to come) I am willing to sell right now to the highest bidder. This means an actual kinyan, a sale, with a written contract. Somebody make me an offer." The old man stood up. "I am willing to buy all that you have acquired up until this point for 100 gold coins." Reb Nachum, like a seasoned salesman, said, "100 gold coins? I don't think so. You're going to have to do a lot better than that." "150...175...200 gold coins." "That's not good enough," said Reb Nachum. "225, 250 cold coins," said the old man. "And that's my final offer." Reb Nachum said that this would just not due. He would not sell his zechusim for under 300 gold coins. The old man stood up, once again. "Rebbe, as you know I am an affluent man. I have my share of wealth. But I don't have 300 gold coins." Reb Nachum stayed firm. "Take it or leave it." The old man stood with his head downcast contemplating just what this acquisition would mean: A life of mediocrity replaced by one of infinite virtue; a free pass on the Day of Judgment due to a lifetime of good deeds. And so he raised his head high. "OK Rebbe, I will pay 300 gold coins." The crowd assembled around the old man to wish him mazel tov, and to share in his new-found joy.

Later in the day, the two wrote up a contract, and counted out the gold coins. Reb Nachum left with the money, and went over to the community leaders. "Here, go call the craftsmen from the next town, and build yourself a mikveh. NO Jewish community should be without a mikveh."

Later, some of the men came up to Reb Nachum, and questioned how his countenance shined with joy at the completion of the sale in the shul. "Rebbe, you lost everything you've worked for up until now. You've lost all of your zechus. And you're still besimcha." And Reb Nachum answered, "you see, up until this point in my life I've always suspected that I've had an ulterior motive when performing a mitzvah. I've never been quite comfortable with myself. But now, for the first time, I know for sure that I did a mitzvah lishmah (for the sake of doing the mitzvah). The community was lacking a mikveh, and I am helping them get one. By giving away my zechus for the sake of the mitzvah there is no way that I could have had an ulterior motive this time. I have given away that which I would have wanted to gain from a mitzvah, namely zechus. And aside from performing this mitzvah, now I get to start over with a clean slate."

The chassidim used to tell that shortly after this incident took place he heard a voice: "Don't worry Nachum. You didn't lose anything." Not that the old man didn't get his share, but rather they both got Reb Nachum's complete share.

Ba'al Shem Tov and the Nursing Baby

This week we begin the book of Shemos (Exodus). We learn that Moshe Rabbeinu (Moses) was hidden among the reeds in the swamp by the Nile after a decree had been issued by Pharaoh, saying that all male children should be thrown into the river. Pharaoh's daughter, Basya, finds the boy, and attempts to nurse him. She does not succeed, and neither do any of the other Egyptian woman. G-d said, "should the mouth that is destined to talk with the Shechinah (Divine Presence) drink non-kosher milk? And furthermore, shall an Egyptian woman later boast that she fed the mouth that conversed with the Shechinah?" And so we have the following story.

A distraught woman once came to the Ba'al Shem Tov from a a faraway town, in order to receive a bracha. She had been childless all her years, and wanted nothing more than to raise a fine child together with her husband. The Ba'al Shem Tov preceded to bless her, and within the year she gave birth to an unusually beautiful baby boy. When the child was weaned she made the arduous journey once more, in order to show the Ba'al Shem her beautiful new baby, and to get a bracha for her son. When the Ba'al Shem Tov saw this stunning baby he asked his gabbai (attendant) to take the baby from the mother, and pass it on to him. The Ba'al Shem hugged, kissed and cooed at the baby, and returned him to the gabbai, who, in turn, returned him to his mother. He did not offer a bracha. The woman realized this omission, but did not question the ways of the Ba'al Shem, and so she made her way back to her distant town.

When she returned home the baby died. She rushed to the Ba'al Shem Tov. "You killed my baby!" she screamed. After all, he did not issue a bracha for the child. "Let me tell you a story," said the Ba'al Shem. "Please sit down.

"There was once a king and a queen. They lived contented, happy lives. They had the wealth of the kingdom at their hands, they loved each other very much, and they were loved by the people. The only thing missing from their lives was children. They had no son, specifically, no heir to the royal throne. The king, one day, consulted his foremost adviser, and said they following: 'You offer assistance in matters of state; you offer your wise counsel on the military front. Often, you even advise me in matters of a personal nature. It's no secret that the queen and I are childless. We have no male heir to the throne. What are we going to do?' The king's adviser thought for only a few seconds, and responded, 'the Jews. Only the Jews are able to help you here.' 'If the Jews are able to help me,' replied the king, 'then I shall take away all of their taxes and many tributes.' 'That's not enough,' said the adviser. 'You must make a threat. Tell them that they must pray for you to have a son, day and night, and if they fail in their prayers, then you will wipe them out from your kingdom altogether.'

"And so it was. The Jews were informed of their heavy burden, and they began to pray, day and night. They fasted, recited Tehillim (Psalms), and implored the Almighty to answer their prayers. Their prayers reached the heavens, and one lofty soul volunteered to come down to the earth to be the son of the king and queen.

"Nine months later a baby boy was born. The king, breeding his son for royalty, began to hire the foremost tutors in the kingdom for his beloved son, on subjects ranging from mathematics to etiquette. The boy was a wonder. He mastered every subject he took up in a short period of time, and with great ease. A few months after a new subject was introduced, the respective tutor was dismissed, because the boy had run the subject dry. He longed for something compelling, something profound, and he approached his father with the request, yet again. The king decided that it was time for the boy to take up spiritual matters. He spoke with the senior-most Christian cleric, and assigned him a room in the royal palace. The priest had but one request: 'Every day I meditate alone in a room for one hour. During this time I ascend to the heavens, and I cannot be disturbed. If someone were to see me in this state then I could make no guarantees for his life.' And so the request was granted.

"The boy took up the study of religion with great fervor and dilligence. He learned many hours of the day with the priest but, like any other young boy, he was curious. What exactly did the priest do during his hour of solitude? What exactly did it mean that he ascended to the heavens? And so he made a copy of the keys for the priest's study. He was bursting with anticipation on the next day when he stuck the key in the lock. He turned the handle, opened the door, and he could not believe the sight. The priest was sitting in tallis (a religious shawl) and tefillin, and was learning the Talmud! He looked up at the boy, and almost fainted. He began to stutter, and the only recognizable words coming from his mouth were 'please..please..' The boy looked up at him, and said, 'don't worry. I won't tell anyone. But under one condition: You teach me what you're learning.' He agreed. But the boy did wonder why all of this was a secret. 'Whatever the reason,' said the religious teacher, 'you could bet that it is a good one, and that I will have to keep up the charade for the rest of my life.'

"They studied Judaism, and the boy finally felt that this religious study, the length and breadth of which were infinite, contained the depth and profundity that he had longed for, for years. Eventually, he would tell his religious tutor, 'convert me to the faith of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. I want to be a Jew. But my father cannot stand to be apart from me for even a single day.' And so the religious tutor came up with a plan. 'You are to tell your father that since you are being groomed to take over the throne one day, and since you have never left the area surrounding the palace, it is your wish to travel for some time to get to know the governors of the various provinces and the local people, as well. But you will do this in increments. For one month you will leave for a few days a week, and then return to your father, in order to get him used to the idea of you not being at his side. And after a month you will say that you would like to travel a greater distance.'

"And so it was. The boy began to travel, and at the beginning of the second month, he reached a border town with the carriage driver, and told him to go back to the palace, because he would be spending a considerable amount of time in this town. And when all was clear he crossed the border, and looked for the nearest Jews. He spent his time in the beis midrash (house of study), and used the money he had taken along from the palace to support himself. He learned in the beis midrash until the day he died.

"When this soul reached heaven," said the Ba'al Shem Tov, "the prosecuting angels scoured his history in order to find some fault, but they could not come up with a thing. This was a soul who volunteered to leave the pleasures of the world above, and dwell in this world, in order to be born to a non-Jewish king and queen, and then abandon a life of royalty in order to become a Jew. One prosecuting angel, however, did speak up. 'For the first two years of his life he nursed from a non-Jew!' The verdict in heaven was that he be sent back down for two years in a new incarnation to be nursed by a Jewish woman. And this was the boy that you gave birth to," said the Ba'al Shem. "It should not grieve you that the child lived only two years, but rather you should contemplate the fact that for two years you were found worthy of caring for and nursing such a lofty soul."

Maggidim of Chernobyl and Bar

"Ke'Reuven v'Shimon yihiyu li, as Reuven and Shimon they shall be mine (Bereishis 48:5)."

As Jacob's life comes to an end in this week's parsah, parshas vayechi, he gives the famous birchos Yaakov, "blessings of Jacob," to his children. Before doing so he calls in his two grandsons from Yosef. Yosef has become viceroy over all of Egypt, and while there he gives birth to two sons, Ephraim and Menashe. Before his blessing to the grandsons he states "ke'Reuven v'Shimon yihiyu li." Due to their virtue, Yosef's children, Ephraim and Menashe, now have the status of Jacob's own children, such as Reuven and Shimon.

Reb Mordechai, the Maggid of Chernobyl, was married to the daughter of Reb Aharon of Karlin. She bore him five illustrious sons, all of whom became Rebbes in their own right. She passed away, and left Reb Mordechai a widower. He decided firmly that he would not marry again. As the years passed he began to get offers for shidduchim (matches for marriage), but he held his ground. It was not until he received a letter from his late wife's brother, Reb Asher of Stolin, that he began to consider a new life. Reb Asher goaded him to take as a wife the daughter of Reb Dovid Leikes, Maggid of the Russian town of Bar, who was a prominent chasid of the Ba'al Shem Tov. Reb Mordechai relented, and made the journey to Bar to ask Reb Dovid for his daughter's hand in marriage. He presented the proposal at arrival, and after closing his eyes and meditating over the matter for a couple of minutes, Reb Dovid said, "I'm sorry, but I flatly refuse your proposal." "But surely you could at least give me your reason for refusal," said Reb Mordechai. "If it's a financial concern, while I cannot provide your daughter with an extravagant lifestyle, I could promise that we would be well taken care of." "No, that is not the reason at all," replied Reb Dovid. "Let me explain something to you," he said. "In my meditation I have just seen that my wife is destined to have five children. I have also seen that you are destined to have three more children. And so that means that after having three children with my daughter, you will pass away and leave her a widow. She will then have to look for another suitable shidduch, and have two more children with that husband. So you see, this really is not an auspicious bargain from our point of view." Reb Mordechai asked for three days to think over the matter.

At the end of three days Reb Mordechai came to Reb Dovid, and said the following: "It is all worked out. You see, I have consulted with the Ba'al Shem Tov, of blessed memory, and he quoted the verse from parshas vayechi, 'ke'Reuven v'Shimon yihihu li,' meaning that as you said, I will give your daughter three more children. But when I pass away, two of those three children will have their own two sons who will be at the same level of saintliness as our children. Therefore, just as Ephraim and Menashe were grandsons of Jacob, but were given the same status as the children of Jacob, so too will the virtue and merit of our grandchildren be of the type that they will be moved up to the status of being our own children." Reb Dovid agreed to the shidduch, and it happened as Reb Mordechai had explained: They bore three tzaddikim, Reb Yochanan of Rachmestrivska, Reb Dovid of Tolna, and Reb Itzik'l of Skver. And from them came two grandchildren, Reb Dovid of Zlatopol (son of Reb Yochanan), and Reb Dovid of Skver. And it was through these two that the shidduch was complete, albeit retroactively.