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In the midst of the Yom Kippur services, the Rebbe, Rabbi Shneur Zalman, interrupted his prayers and departed from the synagogue. Left behind was a room filled with stunned worshippers, who wondered what awesome and lofty mission had prompted the Rebbe to leave in these spiritually uplifted moments.
The Rebbe made his way to the nearby forest. There, he collected dry wood and branches. He carried them to a small house. He knocked on the door and then entered. Once inside, the Rebbe kindled a fire from the wood he had brought. He prepared a soup and he fed it, spoon by spoon, to the woman in the house who had just given birth.
It is easy, even comfortable, to read stories such as the one about Rabbi Shneur Zalman, and be inspired to enhance our fulfillment of the mitzvot between ourselves and each other. At the very beginning of Jewish history, we are told of our ancestor Abraham, who showed us the importance of tending to the needs of others. In the midst of a Divine "conversation," he asked G-d to "wait" while he greeted and provided for tired wayfarers who approached his tent.
If we look at the story of Rabbi Shneur Zalman, what distinguishes it from other examples of selflessness and caring? First, that the Rebbe chose to go himself although he could have sent his assistant, a son, or one of his Chasidim to tend to the new mother. But to fully appreciate the significance of the Rebbe's actions, we must take into account the magnitude and intensity of the Rebbe's Yom Kippur prayers which were on behalf of all the Jewish people. Yet, he saw that caring for a new mother was more precious before G-d than his exalted prayers.
Society encourages and sometimes even takes the time to applaud humanitarian deeds, acts of goodness and kindness, volunteerism, etc. However, the Jew's compassion and caring is driven by the fact that these mitzvot are an integral part of his/her relationship with G-d.
In the words of Rabbi Shneur Zalman when asked which is the superior Divine service, love of G-d or love of the Jewish people, "Both love of G-d and love of the Jewish people are equally engraved in every Jew's soul. It follows that love of the Jewish people is superior, however, for you love whom your beloved loves."
Ultimately, then, these mitzvot are also an expression of our love of G-d. We are not enjoined to fulfill mitzvot between ourselves and our fellow humans because they "feel good" (or we "feel good" after doing them) or because they are politically correct. We are to perform them as a Divine imperative, a part of what our Creator demands of us.
Yom Kippur is the day when G-d gave the second set of the tablets containing the Ten Commandments, after the Jews were forgiven for the sin of the golden calf. On one tablet were those mitzvot (commandments) between a person and G-d. On the other tablet were those between a person and his fellow. This teaches us that both types of mitzvot are parallel parts of our relationship with our Creator, to be approached, performed and carried out equally.
Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, is a day that is entirely dedicated to returning to G-d in teshuva (repentance). Among the many mitzvot involved in teshuva is the act of confession, as the Torah states, "You shall confess your sin." Indeed, this is the basis for the "Al Cheit" ("For the Sin of...") confessional recited on Yom Kippur, which enumerates the various sins a person may have committed.
In the Jerusalem Talmud, the question of whether or not this generalized confession is sufficient is debated. Rabbi Yehuda Ben Betaira maintains that in addition to reciting "Al Cheit," a detailed admission of personal sins is required. Rabbi Akiva, by contrast, opines that "It is not necessary to go into detail about one's deeds."
But what exactly is the crux of their argument? As the Tosefot explains, Rabbi Yehuda's insistence on a detailed account is for the purpose of arousing a deeper sense of remorse. The more a person is ashamed of his misdeeds, the deeper his repentance will be. Rabbi Akiva, however, takes the human factor into consideration, and asserts that if a person's individualized confession is overheard by others, "he might be suspected of other sins as well." In other words, the way people think about him might be negatively affected.
In essence, the argument revolves around where the emphasis should be placed: on the present, or on the future. When the present is emphasized - the fact that today is Yom Kippur - it is preferable to enumerate one's sins in order to achieve a higher level of teshuva. When the stress is on the future, the determining factor is to avoid any possible negative repercussions.
On a deeper level, there is another basis for their disagreement. Rabbi Yehuda views the individual in his present state, as one who is just beginning to do teshuva and draw closer to G-d. There are two basic motivations for doing teshuva: an initial stage, in which a person repents out of a sense of fear, and a higher level, on which the motivation is love for G-d. When a person enumerates his every little sin, it produces in him a stronger feeling of fear and awe of G-d.
Rabbi Akiva, however, looks at the larger picture, and anticipates that the person will eventually reach the higher level. In fact, his entire approach is to always perceive the hidden good in everything. When a person repents out of love for G-d, it makes no difference whether the sin is great or small; for he knows that every sin creates a distance between himself and G-d, and he will avoid committing even the smallest transgression.
Adapted from Volume 24 of Likutei Sichot
Kol Nidrei in the Forest
Days and months passed in the muddy trenches of the battlefield. Zalman Bronshtein lay motionless, rifle cocked against the German enemy only hundreds of feet away. He thought about his wife and three children. The thought of his family gave him the strength to survive the horrors of war.
For a year, a bloody war waged between Russian forces and the German enemy. Tens of thousands of young people had already paid with their lives. And there was no end to the fighting in sight .
His shift over, Zalman crept carefully to the bunker. Once inside, he lay down and tried to get some sleep before being sent back to his post.
Unexpectedly, a high ranking officer entered the bunker. He began to shave, all the while singing a song. Zalman opened his eyes. Why had the officer decided to shave in the bunker of the lower ranks, Zalman wondered. However, what bothered him even more was that the officer was singing the song all wrong! Zalman could not resist, and he called out to the officer, " Comrade Officer , the original song is sung a little differently ..."
The officer turned to him in surprise. "You know the song? If yes, you must sing it!" Zalman was hardly in the mood to sing. Nor did he have the strength for such pursuits. Try as he might, his excuses were ineffective. And so, he sang the joyous song as the officer listened with evident pleasure.
When finished, the officer began to grumble about the Russian army. "How can they send a gifted singer to the front lines? It's wrong, it's immoral! Today I will bring up the matter at headquarters!"
Weeks went by. Zalman's routine continued as before and he forgot about the officer and his offer. He was preoccupied with fighting, fire bombs and mortal danger. More then once Zalman was sure that he owed his life to a miracle. Whenever he was on the front-lines, he always had the image of his Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn of Lubavitch, before his eyes. And he felt confident, knowing that the Rebbe was praying for him.
One day a message came over the radio. "Who is the singer Bronstein?" He appeared before the bunker officer immediately, who told him, "I was ordered to send you to Headquarters. Take your things and head there immediately. But be careful! Any wrong move could be fatal."
With his heart full of fear, Zalman made his way to Headquarters. Only when he was transferred to the officers in charge of the military choir did he remember the officer whom he had sung for a few weeks earlier.
He was asked to sing for a group of senior commanders. Zalman knew that if he was successful in impressing the commanders, he could be relieved of his position as a soldier on the front lines. He began to sing the Russian song again, this time with more emotion.
The officers were beside themselves with admiration. They began to argue over who would have Zalman with their company. His singing would surely raise the morale of the soldiers. Finally it was decided that he would rotate, performing in front of many different military companies.
Zalman moved from base to base. Commanders and officers were now his close comrades; he was a source of pride for Jewish soldiers. During one concert he even got a note from a Jewish officer with a request for "something in Yiddish." He did indeed sing a Yiddish song that was well received and that reminded the Jewish soldiers of their homes and families.
A date was set for an important performance. It would be in front of hundreds of military doctors. Zalman was shocked when he realized that the date chosen was the day of Yom Kippur. Zalman was determined that he would not participate or perform on the holiest day of the year.
On the morning of Yom Kippur, Zalman notified the music director that he was not well. He had severe pain in the head and throat and he would not be able to sing that day. The director tried to pressure him but in vain. There was no choice and the show went on without him.
Zalman sat in his room, absorbed in the prayers of the day of Yom Kippur, from what he remembered by heart. After praying he began reciting psalms. There was singing in the background and the military band could be heard performing.
Suddenly there was a loud knock on the door and three military officers entered. "Are you Bronstein the singer?" they asked and immediately continued, "Do you know what today is?" Zalman was scared but he braced himself and answered confidently, "Yes, today is Yom Kippur ."
Their faces softened and a quiet plea was heard from them. "We are Jews. Could you sing for us some excerpts from the prayers of today's holy day?"
Zalman explained, "How can I sing? I officially notified them I'm not well and unable to sing!"
The officers had an idea. They would go with him behind the camp where there was a dense forest. There, in the forest, he would be able to sing the prayers without anyone hearing.
Zalman felt their excitement, and realized how anxious they were to recall their parents' homes and the yearning for the Jewish life they had experienced in their childhood.
There, in the forest, behind the thick curtain of trees, Zalman stood facing the three officers. He closed his eyes and began to chant the prayer of the Kol Nidrei with its traditional tune. He ended Kol Nidrei and continued to the Unsanah Tokef.
In the midst of this terrible war, the future outcome of which remained unknown, three Jewish souls stood in the forest with the spark of the Jewish soul burning with the fire of this holy and awesome day.
Zalman finished with a final prayer: "Hear O Israel, the Lord our God... He is our Saviour and He will redeem us."
Zalman opened his eyes to a sight that he would never forget: three officers with their eyes closed weeping like babies. "Now I understand," he thought to himself, "the Divine Pprovidence in sending that officer into my bunker that morning singing a song."
After the war, Rabbi Zalman Bronshtein immigrated to Israel where he was a founding member of Kfar Chabad. During the High Holidays he served as the cantor in the village's main synagogue. Translated from Sichat HaShavua
New Emissaries
Rabbi Chaim Shaul and Chaya Mushka Glitzenstien have arrived in Szeged, Hungary, the fourth largest city in South East Hungary. In addition to being the rabbi and rebbetzin of the Orthodox synagogue in that city, they will also run the Chabad programs for Israeli medical students studying there. The Glitzensteins bring to a total 12 Chabad families serving as emissaries of the Rebbe in Hungary.
Rabbi Mordechai and Shaina Richler have moved to South Lake Tahoe, California. In addition to holiday programs that are currently underway, they intent on focusing on senior citizens, programs for children and moms with tots, as well as Hebrew schools, weekly Torah classes and a women's group.
Rabbi Hersh and Fraidy Loschak will be arriving soon in Glassboro, New Jersey, to establish a Chabad House on campus at Rowan University. Rowan University has 1,000 Jewish students.
Free Translation and Adaptation
6th day of Tishrei, 5738
To the Sons and Daughters of Our People Israel, Everywhere
G-d bless you all!
Greeting and Blessing:
...Since it is already after Rosh Hashanah, and a new year has been reached in life, and everyone, however satisfactory be one's level of knowledge and the level of one's conduct, should surely make use of these days to increase one's knowledge and thereby raise the standard of one's conduct (in thought, speech, and deed), as it is written, "many years teach (more) wisdom,"
A new year serves as a reminder of a new and higher level of perfection in the everyday life that has to be started forthwith.
The year 5738 [*] has, in addition, a special lesson in that it is a Leap-Year, and a special Leap-Year at that, as will be explained later.
The purpose of a (Jewish) Leap-Year is, as is well known, to adjust and replenish the passing months and years which we, Jews, are required to calculate on the basis of the moon, so that they do not fall short of the years calculated according to the sun, inasmuch as the solar year is by a number of days longer than the lunar year. This adjustment (by way of periodically adding a month - a second Adar - in a Leap-Year) is necessarily in view of the fact that the four seasons of the year - spring, summer, autumn, and winter - are determined by the sun, and the Torah requires that our Festivals should occur in their due season - Succos, the "Festival of Ingathering," in the autumn, the season when the produce of the field is gathered in; Pesach - in the month of Spring. The intercalation of an extra month from time to time reduces the difference between the lunar years and solar years, so that the festivals occur in their proper season.
A full adjustment of the two methods of calculation takes place at the conclusion of every 19-year cycle, when the lunar and solar years attain complete parity.
And here it is where the year 5738 has it special significance, for it marks the completion of the current 19-year cycle, when the process of adjustment and replenishment reaches the fullest measure.
The Leap-Year teaches a special lesson, which will become clear after the following introductory remark:
The sun and the moon were both created "to give light on the earth." However, there is a difference in the manner of their illuminating the earth. The sun radiates and gives off its own light, whereas the moon has no light of its own, but receives light from the sun which it reflects and sends down to earth.
In other words, the sun and the moon constitute and symbolize the roles of mashpi'a (giver) and mekabel (recipient), respectively: the sun acts and influences; the moon is acted upon and is influenced and only thereafter it also becomes a mashpi'a.
The lesson of it is that a Jew has to be a mashpi'a, and he has to be a mekabel. He is required to diffuse light (G-dliness) to illuminate himself and his surroundings. But in order to be a mashpi'a, he must first be a mekabel - a recipient of the light of the Torah and mitzvos (commandments) to illuminate his intellect and emotions and all his activities.
There are times when one has to be primarily a mekabel, or - even exclusively a mekabel (as, for example, a disciple when receiving Torah instruction from his teacher); similarly in regard to his task as a mashpi'a (as for example, in giving Tzedoko - charity). In both aspects he is expected to attain perfection, so that in the final sum-total his conduct both as recipient and giver will be perfectly balanced (according to the capacities and opportunities that are given him especially from On High), in each of the two roles individually, and in both jointly, only then is his service complete and perfect.
This requires profound introspection and honest self-appraisal, in order to utilize all one's capacities, both known and hidden, and in the fullest and most complete measure, in all areas of human endeavor, in thought, speech and deed....
With esteem and blessing for a Chasimo uGmar Chasimo Toivo - that you be sealed and utterly sealed for good,
This year, 5774, is also a Leap-Year, though not the completion of the 19-year cycle as was the year when the above letter was written.
Yishmael Kohein Gadol (the High Priest) was one of the authors of the Mishna. Also known as Rabbi Yishmael ben Elisha, he was one of the ten martyrs whose deaths we read about on Yom Kippur. Once, when Rabbi Yishmael entered the Holy of Holies on Yom Kippur, G-d said, "Yishmael my son, bless Me!" Rabbi Yishmael responded: "May it be Your will that Your mercy overcome Your anger, and that Your compassion overrule Your attributes; let Your conduct toward Your children be with loving kindness... and may You overlook strict Judgment.' The Holy One bowed His head to me [in confirmation]."
Rabbi Shmuel M. Butman
Yom Kippur is called the "one and only day in the year." The words "one and only" teaches us that Yom Kippur is the day that unites the Jewish people and makes them "one," as if they were one person with one heart.
Yom Kippur also unites the Jewish people with the One Hashem. We see this unity between Hashem and the Jewish people very clearly at the end of Yom Kippur, when everyone cries out in one voice, "Shema Yisrael - Hear, O Israel." In essence, we are saying, "We accept, all of us together, the rule of the One and Only G-d."
Immediately afterwards, we repeat three times, "Baruch Shem K'Vod - Blessed is the name of His Glorious Kingdom Forever and ever." Thus, we are declaring that G-d rules in all the worlds and we accept Him as our King."
Finally, in one united heart-rending voice, we cry out seven times, "Hashem Hu HaElokim - G-d, He is the L-rd." This is our unequivocal acceptance of the King of Kings.
Yom Kippur is the end of the Ten Days of Repentance. On Rosh Hashana, the first of the Ten Days of Repentance, we began the process of "coronating" G-d as our King. On the final day, the "one and only day," we complete His coronation - we stamp and seal it.
At the very end of Yom Kippur, a mighty shofar blast is sounded. We call out with hope, faith and belief, "L'Shana HaBah B'Yerushalayim - Next year in Jerusalem" These last moments remind us of the time when the sound of the shofar will announce the coming of Moshiach and the complete Redemption.
May it be G-d's will that the Holy Temple will be rebuilt and the words "Next year in Jerusalem" will be fulfilled, quickly in our days.
Allow us to pray with the transgressors (The Kol Nidre)
This prayer was added by the Marranos, Jews who had converted to Christianity during the Spanish Inquisition, but continued to cling to their Jewish faith and practices in secret. In public, however, they had to act as devoted members of the Christian community, or risk torture and death. On Yom Kippur they gathered in secret and prayed to G-d to forgive them of the commandments they had transgressed in order to deceive their neighbors. So they assembled, and they asked permission to pray in the company of their fellow transgressors.
(Book of Our Heritage)
For the sin we have sinned before You (From our Yom Kippur prayers)
For each sin we enumerate we pound our hearts with our fist. One explanation for this is the rule which states that in a case of capital punishment, the condemning witness casts the first stone. Since we are accusing our hearts of being responsible for our sins, we strike our hearts heavily.
(Sefer HaMatamim)
You shall afflict your souls [i.e., fast] on the ninth day of the month at evening
A question is asked in the Talmud (Yoma 81b): "Why does the Torah state 'on the ninth day,' when we actually fast on the tenth of the month, on Yom Kippur? To teach that a person who eats and drinks on the ninth [in preparation for the fast] is considered to have fasted on both the ninth and the tenth." And why is eating on the day before Yom Kippur deemed so important? For, eating for the sake of heaven is far more difficult than fasting for the sake of heaven.
(Malbim)
When the Previous Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn, reached an age appropriate to marry, he was faced with having to choose between several prospective brides. One of those suggested was Nechama Dina, daughter of Rabbi Avraham Schneerson of Kishinev, the son of the Rebbe of Nezhin.
The prospective bridegroom's father, the Rebbe Rashab [Rabbi Shalom Dovber, fifth Chabad Rebbe], was in favor of this match (which eventually did take place), but the bridegroom's grandmother, Rebbetzin Rivka, had other plans.
The Rebbe Rashab said to his mother, "Let us follow the advice of the Torah, and ask the boy himself what he wants to do." They called in the young Yosef Yitzchak, gave him the names of all the possible matches and told him to make the decision for himself.
Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak replied, "When Abraham sought a wife for his son Isaac, he sent his servant Eliezer to his own kinsmen to find a suitable match, saying, 'But you shall go to my father's house, and to my kindred, and take a wife for my son.' " Evidently, Yosef Yitzchak had decided to marry his distant relative, Nechama Dina.
Now in those days, the custom of Rebbetzin Rivka was to distribute honey cake to everyone in the community on the day before Yom Kippur. Her son, the Rebbe Rashab, would be the first to receive a piece, after which all the Chasidim and townspeople would file past her and be given a piece of cake and her blessings for a good and sweet year.
That year, during which the match between Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak and Rebbetzin Nechama Dina was arranged, the Rebbe Rashab came to his mother as usual for the honey cake before Yom Kippur. On that occasion, however, he asked for her forgiveness, as the match had not been made according to her wishes.
Rebbetzin Rivka responded with the following story:
There was once a Jew living in an isolated settlement with few Jewish neighbors, who wanted to spend Yom Kippur in a nearby town in order to be able to pray properly with a minyan (quorum). Many such isolated Jewish families would relocate before the High Holidays in order to be able to celebrate together with their brethren. The man informed his wife and family that they would be making the trip into town on the day before Yom Kippur, and asked them to ready themselves for the journey.
When it came time to leave, however, he was the only one ready. The rest of the family had not yet finished packing and making preparations.
He tried to hurry them, as it was the eve ofYom Kippur, but it was obvious they would not be leaving for some time. The man therefore suggested that he start out on the journey himself, walking slowly, so that they would later be able to catch up with him. The entire family would meet at a particular tree and continue on their way together.
The father set off alone and soon reached the location where they were supposed to meet. Tired by his long walk (and by the drink of schnapps he had downed that morning), he decided to rest in the inviting shade of the tall tree. Lying down on a comfortable spot not visible from the main road, the man soon fell asleep and dozed for many hours.
Meanwhile, the other family members were hurrying along, trying to reach town before sundown. By the time they reached the tree near which their father was fast asleep they had quite forgotten about their agreement, and passed him right by.
Towards evening the man woke up from his nap. Seeing the advancing shadows, he realized that he would never be able to reach the town before it got dark, nor would he be able to return home without transgressing the holiest day of the year. He would have to spend Yom Kippur where he was, in the middle of nowhere, under the open sky.
Lifting his eyes to heaven, the man cried out, "Master of the Universe! My children have totally forgotten about me! I hereby forgive them; now You must forgive Your children who have forgotten about You!"
Rebbetzin Rivka finished her story with the following words addressed to her son, the Rebbe Rashab: "May G-d forgive all of us the same way that I have forgiven you."
And therefore, may Your sanctified name, G-d, our G-d, rest upon Israel Your people, upon Jerusalem Your city, upon Zion the sanctuary of Your glory, upon on the sovereignty of the house of David, Your Moshiach, and upon Your structure and Your Holy Temple... Bring joy to Your land, and gladness to Your city. And empower David, Your servant, enlighten the son of Yishai, Your anointed one - speedily, in our days....And You shall reign - Your, Who are G-d, our G-d, You alone - over all Your works on Mount Zion, the dwelling-place of Your glory, and in Jerusalem, Your holy city.
(From the Machzor)
