B-H
The week before Purim, somewhere in the west, I tried to
convince a fellow Jew to visit one of the Hasidic neighborhoods in Brooklyn
on his trip to NY, which coincided with the day of Purim. I told him, "No
matter how much I may try to explain the festivity on the streets of Boro
Park Williamsburg
on Purim, there are just no adequate words to describe it."
Many of the Jews from the west never saw a Hasidic person in
their lives altogether. For some of them I was the first, which is really an ironic
fact. Some of my fellow Jews visited the Holy Land and
encountered Hasidim or other Haredim there, but it was rather like a tourist–aborigine
type of experience. To fully immerse oneself and participate in the Festival of
Purim on the streets or in the better homes and Butei Medrushim in the areas most
populated by Haredim in our country, is exceptional. Whoever wants can still
find lots of pictures online, but well… it's like seeing the Grand
Canyon in a 2-dimensional photo. Haredi neighborhoods are
spiritual wonders of the world, and this alone makes them greater than even the
most riveting panoramic beauty which, by the way, provides my means of
livelihood as I make a living by giving tours to people through the Canyons in
the Mountains. But although I love to travel, my family, friends, neighbors and
just random fellow Yiden are sorely missed during my time away.
The morning after my arrival in New
York I joined a minyan which, when I travel, is
rather a luxury for me. In one of mid-sized Hasidic synagogues I davened
(prayed) with a ten o’clock minyan, which in this particular synagogue is scheduled
every half hour from morning until ten men can no longer be found for a minyan.
When a quorum of ten men is no longer available at that location, everyone knows
where there are other minyanim just a few streets away. In some other places
the morning prayers are conducted all the way to Hatzois – midday or, with shame I have to admit, even after that
hour. With shame; for it is prohibited by Shulchan Aruch – the Codex of Jewish
Law - to say morning prayers after midday .
But in the Hasidishe Velt people have all kinds of life situations and they sometimes
break the law in such instances, praying after the prescribed time.
I was there still well before that time but as I said, it
was not one of the big Butei Medrushim - maybe two hundred seats in two rooms
separated by a removable wall. We got our minyan easily for there were still plenty
of individuals and Havrusos – men learning in pairs. To pray with a minyan we
need ten men older than bar mitzvah (13) but four of them can be counted even
if they are not participating in the prayers. Six must be part of the actual
praying group. A few minutes later we got well above the required quorum.
Some of the Yiden who finished a previous minyan sat around
the table where they delighted in consuming a big loaf of marble cake while
shmoozing – chattering about everything that Hasidim chat about – their Rebbes,
work, world politics, etc.
Probably due to the Yom Tov Purim there were more men than usual
in that place at the time, including Bucherim – unmarried Yeshiva students. They
probably came home from out-of-town Yeshivos and now enjoyed not only the cake
and herring with shnapps, but also the exchange of news with their peers from various
Yeshivos. On one side of table, an older Hasid in his late thirties was sharing
memories from his Yeshiva days with a few Bucherim. Apparently, some of the
young students where learning under the guidance of the same Rabbis that he
once learned from. The man visibly enjoyed the shmooze with the Bucherim, but he
soon departed for whatever occupation he keeps.
We finished our prayers as others were learning or chattering
in different spots of the Bais Medrash. I packed my Tallis and Tefilin and
walked out to the cold streets of Brooklyn . Around the
corner three little girls with their Pushkes were collecting Tzeduka – money
for the financially impoverished, or to support their schools. I didn’t read what
the purpose of their collection was, as it is usually written on the Tzeduka
Pushke – the can with the opening for the money on the top of it. The view of
those girls, the oldest not more than perhaps 9 or 10, in the cold and moist
weather of NY, melted my heart. Whatever they collected for, it must be worth
supporting.
The days around Purim are especially filled with boys and
girls collecting everywhere - on the streets, from home to home, in the stores
and in synagogues. I mean everywhere, of course, in Jewish neighborhoods. And
so, on the day of Purim itself millions of dollars are transferred from hand to
hand, from pocket to pocket - and this is only one of the major periods of the
Jewish year when money for the needy is given even by those who are themselves
less privileged, in even extra amounts, regardless of the routine Tzeduka they
give all year round. And then Pesach is yet another occasion to give. Elul –
the whole month of Elul. And then Chanukah gelt! These are just a few times
that are worthy of mention.
Baruch Hashem I spent a few days with my children and granddaughters.
I visited my Rav and participated in a private Seuda – a meal in his house,
where we always have arch and interesting discussions with him and his sons and
sons in law who are all Magidei Shiur – Teachers of Talmud and Mashgiahim – supervisors
of spiritual growth in various Hasidic Yeshivos. Besides some basic hashkafa –
life philosophy and current issues which we talked about, I got another glimpse
into the present stage of Haredi education in general.
I had a few short hours to take care of some other issues
that life on this earth required, but somehow a few of my closest friends
managed to get together with me for a meal. This meal was not connected to the
festival of Purim as it took place on the evening after Shushan Purim. They caught
up with me in my Monsey Shul – synagogue - and convinced me to wash (to eat a
meal with bread) to celebrate the occasion of my arrival.
There are not enough words to convey my appreciation for
their devotion as they left their various occupations just to shmooze with
their old friend. They do it every time I come, but usually they know in
advance when I am coming and there are more of my haverim and havrusos – friends
and learning partners. This time I called last minute and there were only four
of us, not including my host’s boys and girls.
Reb Aizyk the Soifer – scribe was my host. He is one of the greatest
people I have ever met. He and his rebetzin and kein ain hara their sixteen
children and unspecified number of grandchildren are all amazing individuals. Reb
Aizyk can sometimes give two kidushim – meals in the Bais Medrash for the occasion
of the birth of a new granddaughter, or attend two brisen - circumcisions of
his grandsons, just a few days apart.
His wisdom guided me countless times in life. His way of
giving me mussar – ethical instruction - doesn’t sound anything close to criticism
or censure. Always dressed in some Mushal – a parable - he makes my brain work
intensely to figure out if this is really the reproof I think it is. Not
because the message is unclear, but because it is so softly hidden behind the delicate
veil of his kind words.
Then there is Reb Mendel. He used to be a Dayan – a judge of
rabbinical court in one of the major Hasidic groups of the east coast. He gave
up this occupation as his delicate soul couldn’t deal with some of the problems
and issues of the world. He knows Talmud by heart but he claims that for this position
one must also have extraordinary Koichos – strength.
To give you a glimpse of my friend’s holiness; he is my age,
a grandpa already, who grew up here in America .
He only just learned from me a few months ago that there are such places as
pubs and bars and what people do in those places. You don't believe me? I don’t
blame you. But there are people on a level of holiness which most of us cannot
even imagine! Like this man, my Rabbi and my friend, who spends his days only involved
in learning and doing good deeds of all kinds for his fellow people, supporting
his family mostly by tutoring. I consult with him about most of the ideas which
I later publicize on this blog and in other places. Of the three friends listed
here, it is Reb Mendel's opinion that I take most into consideration, for many
reasons. He also sometimes likes to share his thoughts or Hidushim – Torah
novelties with me and then tells me "You can use that on your thing on the
Internet."
The youngest among us was Reb Yankel, my Tanya havruso from
the time when I still resided more in Monsey than anywhere else. Although he
never learned English in his school, as it was not allowed for reasons of moral
purity in his Moisad – the faction which is led by his father, he was nevertheless
able to fluently explain to me the depths of this beautiful Sefer Tanya – (I
think 'good book' would be the best translation of the word ‘sefer’) in English
rather than in Yiddish, as my articulacy is limited in that language. He is in
his early thirties with a few children running around in his house, and yet he
is still learning in Kollel – a learning institution for married men. I hope
that his brilliant mind will one day serve our people in a much broader sphere.
These are just a few words about the friends whom I met
during my visit home. There are still others whom I couldn’t manage to meet,
but who are also extraordinary people. What they all have in common is that
each of them is struggling toward the same singular goal: to live a life
according to the will of their Creator and to ultimately be a better person
tomorrow, than they are today.
Matys Weiser
