Rav Aharon's Fax and the 'Core' of our Problem

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August 04 2017
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The sagacious elder reached down in pain and pulled the fax out of the trash bin. It was the second fax he’d received in 3 months asking his rabbinic opinion about an unthinkable question: is there justification to kill the Israeli Prime Minister?


 


This may sound like a sentence out of an historical fiction novel, but this is an accurate account, according to a close confidante of Rav Ahron Soloveichik with whom I spoke this week to confirm the story.


 


Rav Ahron received a fax in August, 1995 from an individual seeking the Torah scholar’s justification to murder Prime Minister Rabin a’h. Rav Ahron threw it in the trash. He received another fax on Thursday, November 2, 1995, from the same individual, announcing that justification was seemingly sought. Once again, Rav Ahron, assuming this was from someone certifiably insane, disposed the fax into the trash. That Motza’ei Shabbos, upon hearing the horrific news of the assassination of Yitzchak Rabin, he found the fax and sought counsel how to proceed. The fax found its way to Israel’s former president, Chaim Herzog. The author of the fax was an extremist zealot with a highly perverted sense of Jewish law. Ultimately, Israel’s security services questioned him and deemed him uninvolved in the murder of Yitzchak Rabin.


 


What happened next is my prime interest in reliving this nightmare.


 


 Rabbi Soloveichik was inconsolable and distraught. He asked that week to meet with the leadership of NCSY – the Orthodox Union’s acclaimed youth division – and members of its Ben Zakkai Honor Society. An eyewitness told me how dramatic was Rav Ahron’s entrance. A stroke in 1983 left Rav Ahron partially paralyzed. He refused wheel chairs and painfully and slowly ambled about with a walker. The pain of each step could be felt by anyone within earshot due to his gut-wrenching sighs.


 


In an impassioned and memorable address at the offices of the Orthodox Union, Rav Ahron lamented about what could have happened had he taken the fax more seriously (no one thought a Jew, let alone an observant Jew, was capable of murdering the Prime Minister). Rav Ahron took responsibility for his inaction upon receiving the fax, as unthinkable the act may have been prior to that infamous Motzei Shabbos.  


 


Despite proudly bearing the lineage of a Levite, Rabbi Soloveichik followed in the footsteps of great Jewish leaders hailing from the tribe of leadership, Yehudah. Both King David and his ancestor Judah assumed unconditional responsibility for sin (see II Shmuel 12:13 and Bereshis 38:26). Here, Rabbi Soloveichik assumed responsibility for a role in a sin from which he could not have been any further.


 


This story came to mind during Tisha B’av. It is appropriate for us to lament all Jewish tragedies on Tisha B’av, beginning from the sin of the Scouts, to the destructions of the Temple, to the bloodbath of the Crusades, the persecutions, expulsions and pogroms in the Iberian Peninsula and the reset of Europe, Cossak riots, blood libels and all manifestations of timeless anti-Semitism, culminating with the Shoah. I was struck by a line in the kinos (the lugubrious elegies we read on Tisha B’av) this year, based on a verse in Psalms (102:8).


 


 


"למה לנצח צמת ביד צרים, ונהיית כצפור בודד על גג מר צורח, מה לידידי פה" (קינה י"ב)


“Why is it forever firmly gripped by the hands of the foe? You have become like a solitary bird, shrieking bitterly from the rooftop: ‘What are you doing here, My friend?” (Kinnah 12).


The Kinnah describes God’s tent, the Holy Temple, and mourns over the departure of God’s Presence. We live in a world where history is altered to even deny Jewish ownership of the Temple Mount. It seems that our foes claim ownership of that which served as the locus of our people for millennia. It seems so futile to pray for the restoration of what we lost when so many foes will not even attribute it to us in the first place.


 


Tisha B’av is a day, and according to the Rav, Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik (older brother of Rav Ahron), the only day annually, when we are entitled to ask why – Eichah. Our pain must be unadulterated. When we sit on the ground unkempt and uncomfortable on Tisha B’av morning, we eschew comfort or compassion. That comes later. As such, many of our current national troubles are mentioned as well. Our tradition teaches that we ascribe our suffering to our own malevolence, most famously our baseless hatred.


 


We are not spared the pain afflicting our people and the suffering of our brothers and sisters. Every terrorist incident causes physical pain. Every ailing and suffering individual deserves our full support and sympathy. But what pains the most is when our brothers and sisters suffer at our own hand.


 


Rabbi Aryeh Zev Ginzberg is a rabbi in the Five Towns who writes a popular column in the Five Towns Jewish Times, a free paper distributed in the New York area. His column from three weeks ago (which I only read last Shabbos) broke my heart. In his column entitled, "Fake Jews", he told two first hand stories, which I will excerpt below (I recommend reading his entire article) and which I have annotated.


 


Every trip to Eretz Yisrael brings for me added depth and perspectives of kedushah [sanctity]; however, my last two trips, only a few weeks apart, left me profoundly disturbed and very concerned about the seemingly dimming prospect for geulah, [redemption] chas v’shalom [Heaven Forbid].


Davening Minchah Gedolah [the afternoon service in the early afternoon] on erev Shabbos in the shtieblach in Geulah, I found myself davening right next to a soldier in uniform with a trim beard, black yarmulke, and tzitzis hanging proudly from all four sides. I couldn’t help but notice the intensity of his tefillah [prayers] and the heartfelt response to every Amen. As I exited the tiny shtiebel right behind him, I began to hear chants of “Nazi,” R’l, and other catcalls in his direction from a group of children ranging in age from 6 years old to 60. As he began to walk down the street, they followed him, and the cries got louder and more menacing.


I had heard about the phenomenon, even seen some videos of it, but until that moment, I had never actually witnessed it. It was overwhelmingly painful to watch. My soldier shul-mate just kept walking, seemingly oblivious to all that was going on around him. (He explained to me later that this is the same reaction he has every time this happens to him.) Suddenly, one young boy, about 9 or 10 years old, with flowing blond peyos and tzitzis reaching down to his knees, took the remainder of the apple that he was chewing on and threw it at the soldier, hitting him squarely in the face. He then ran with his cheder gang-mates into a small alley.


I was stunned. I then contemplated my reaction. My first thoughts were not to chase after the thrower, but rather to tear kriyah [rend clothing as a sign of mourning] at what I just witnessed. I walked over to the soldier, offered a tissue to remove the stain on his cheek, but had nothing to offer that would remove the stain in his heart. I just said to him, “Ein milim,” there are no words.


He looked me in the eye, and in perfect English said the following. “The yelling at me, even the word ‘Nazi,’ doesn’t bother me, and neither does being hit by the apple; what pains me to the core is that I learn in the hesder yeshiva in Chevron and when I walk the streets of ancient Chevron, the looks of hatred in the eyes of the Arab children that pass me is no different from the look in the eyes of these children, and that is overwhelmingly painful.”


Scene II: I went to Eretz Yisrael for a brief trip for the bar mitzvah of the son of close friends. Catching a late Ma’ariv in the shtieblach on Rechov Bar Ilan in the Shmuel HaNavi section, I exited the shul around 11:30 p.m., hoping to find a cab to return to the hotel. Before me was a small group of 15–16-year-old yeshiva bachurim [students] who decided to walk into the middle of the busy intersection filled with cars and buses and stage a sit-down. Drivers began honking and shouting, while they just sat there laughing amongst themselves. I stopped for a moment to watch the spectacle unfolding in front of me and then witnessed something that I could never have envisioned even by the furthest stretch of my imagination.


Driving a small white car was a distinguished-looking talmid chacham [Torah scholar], with his wife in the front passenger seat. He pleaded with the young men to let him pass. They ignored him. His rebbetzin, a woman in her mid-thirties and in a late stage of pregnancy, exited the car and pleaded with the boys to move aside, as she had small children at home and the babysitter needed to leave. They ignored her as well. She returned to her seat, and the car began to inch forward. The boys, realizing that they’d better move quickly, promptly did so, but not before two of them walked over to the open window where the pregnant rebbetzin was sitting, and, with a great sense of purpose, spat in her face.


After reading this account in the paper, I was grateful that Rabbi Ginzberg, a voice associated with the right of Orthodoxy, conveyed these stories and condemned them in the strongest of terms. But I asked myself: these are children. This hatred was not created out of nowhere. This behavior does not emerge from a vacuum. These two stories haunted me and infuriated me all of Tisha B’av.


 


As Jews, crying over such acts is not sufficient. We don’t end Tisha B’av and revisit it a year later. While we must address the pains and lackings of our people on Tisha B’av, we must not let Tisha B’av conclude without committing ourselves to fix the problem. To paraphrase Rabbi Amnon’s celebrated line from the High Holiday liturgy: “On Tisha B’av we mourn; on Shabbos Nachamu we act.” It is not enough to sit on the ground and cry on Tisha B’av if we do not swear to fix the problems.


 


It has been asked: why does our calendar not follow a logical flow. After Tisha B’av, we should return to God (i.e. do teshuvah) and then experience comfort. What do we gain from feeling solace first? The Vilna Gaon, in a comment on the book of Proverbs, may answer our question. He teaches that there is a huge difference between discipline from a loving parent or teacher and that of a stranger. Teshuvah will be much more effective when its impetus comes from love, not fear. The stranger metes out discipline. The parent accomplishes it with a hug and a kiss. Before we can change anything, we must feel the Divine cuddle and kiss.


 


As has been noted before, the root of the word nechamah or consolation, the title of this Shabbos that follows Tisha B’av, really derives its name from a term meaning to change, to alter course, or in Rav Hirsch’s words, to reconsider. The first place the root n.ch.m appears in the Torah is when God feels regret for creating the world (Bereshis 6:6). Nechamah denotes switching courses, just as we try to ‘comfort the bereaved’ who are trying to adapt to a new world achingly devoid of the love and contribution of a loved ones. Shabbos Nachamu implies that we must be changed by the experience of Tisha B’av.


 


Permit me to offer a means to do that from juxtaposition in the Parsha. The following two verses appear back-to-back (Devarim 4:2-3).


 


 


"לא תספו על הדבר אשר אנכי מצוה אתכם ולא תגרעו ממנו, לשמר את מצות ה' אלקיכם אשר אנכי מצוה אתכם. עיניכם הראות את אשר עשה ה' בבעל פעור כי כל האיש אשר הלך אחרי בעל פעור השמידו ה' אלקיך מקרבך" (דברים ד':ב-ג)


“You shall not add to the word which I command you, neither shall you diminish nothing from it, that you may keep the commandments of the Lord your God which I command you. Your eyes have seen what the Lord did because of Baal Peor, to all the men who followed Baal Peor; the Lord your God has destroyed them from among you.”


Baal Peor was a true low point in all of Jewish history. When the prophet Bilaam was unable to curse the Jews, he suggested that the Moabite women seduce the Jewish men and commit lascivious acts including idolatry. Baal Peor is worshipped by moving one’s bowels in the presence of the idol. There cannot be a more gross, base and misguided way of observing a “god.” Rabbi Chaim Shmuelevitz, the late leader of the Mirrer Yeshiva in Jerusalem described it (Sichos Mussar 1972 #34) as a non-theological observance, as a rebellion against organized religion which implies constraints. Even idolaters respect their idol, but not those who worshipped Baal Peor. They showed the ultimate contempt for it. The more you show your disrespect, the more you worship it. Baal Peor represents total anarchy and Godlessness, a willingness to challenge all realms of authority, convention and social acceptance.


 


Rav Chaim argues that the prohibition of adding or detracting from the Torah is connected textually to the story of Baal Peor to demonstrate what can happen without boundaries, even if one’s intentions are in the right place.


 


Any parent whose protests against the IDF or its policies violate halachic norms of civility, speech and hatred, can produce offspring who are capable of such disdain, hatred and unrestrained evil. Violating halacha over one issue can lead to a complete breach of acceptable behavior. The Baal Peor response of unqualified and unchecked criticism of a leader can lead, and has led to a so-called disciple of religion murdering in the name of some demented and evil cause.


 


When we ponder the unrestrained evil of Tisha B’av, we must look honestly to see if we are not responsible due to unchecked passions, and extra-judicial and unsanctioned behavior justifying our strong beliefs. The tragic and horrific trends in the Orthodox community of children turning to drugs because no school will accept them is a blight on every single one of us, and on this Shabbos Nachamu, we must stand up and try to fix this monumental chilul Hashem.


 


Rabbi David Fohrman points out that the Midrash famously relates that God heard the pleas of Rachel our mother, to spare the Jewish people from destruction, and was unresponsive to the entreaties of all the other patriarchs, matriarchs and great Jewish leaders. The prophet Jeremiah teaches us why.


 


 


"כה אמר ה' מנעי קולך מבכי ועיניך מדמעה כי יש שכר לפעלתך נאם ה' ושבו מארץ אויב" (ירמיהו ל"א:ט"ו)


“Thus says the Lord; Refrain your voice from weeping, and your eyes from tears; for your work shall be rewarded, says the Lord; and they shall come again from the land of the enemy” (Yirmiyahu 31:15).


Rachel was rewarded not because of her feelings, but because of past actions (Rabbi Fohrman attributes it to sharing the ‘signs’ with her sister Leah who would be switched with Rachel to marry Yaakov and a later episode regarding some vegetation and the birth of Yissachar. I highly recommend Rabbi Fohrman’s lecture for Tisha B’av which covers all of this.) The ultimate comfort of the suffering Jew, derived from these verses from Yirmiyahu, revolves around actions.


 


Tisha B’av means seven weeks to Rosh Hashanah and eight to Yom Kippur. Let’s roll up our sleeves, recall the acute pain of Tisha B’av, and like the great Rav Ahron Soloveitchik zt’l, assume responsibility and ownership for our suffering. Nothing less can be expected on Shabbos Nachamu.

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Tisha B'av cannot be effective without Shabbos Nachamu and its segue into the High Holidays. We cannot mourn efficiently if we don't take actions to rectify the issues facing our people. Why does the period of teshuvah follow nechama, and not the other way around? Why does the Torah juxtapose the mitzvah of bal tosif/tigra to a reference to Baal Peor?

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    Learning on the Marcos and Adina Katz YUTorah site is sponsored today by Judy & Mark Frankel & family l'ilui nishmos מרדכי בן הרב משה יהודה ע"ה and משה יהודה ז"ל בן מאיר אליהו ויהודית