Chanukah - 5764It was the first night of Chanukah and the
Rabinowitz family sat down for dinner and a Chanukah treat - latkes. The
Rabinowitz's were a very prominent family in the city of Krakow. A
particular custom of this family was that when they had a guest, to offer
their guest first and only after he had his fill, would they all partake of
that dish.
And what a guest they had - the renowned Rabbi Heschel and his Rebbetzin.
Rabbi Heschel was one of the most famous talmudic scholars in all of
Europe. It was indeed a huge honor to have this illustrious Rabbi and
Rebbetzin as their guests.
The steaming plate of piping hot latkes was placed down before Rabbi
Heschel. A latke was placed on his plate, which he sampled. The eyes of
the entire family were set anxiously upon him. He then asked for another
one. The family was so thrilled that the Rabbi was pleased with the
delicacy.
He then asked for a third and a fourth and so on. Now the happy family
was beginning to wonder if there would be any left for them. Then, as
now, people look forward with eager anticipation to that first Chanukah
latke, and their hopes were dwindling. The Rebbetzin herself was getting
nervous and embarrassed at her husband's behavior.
Sure enough, he kept on devouring and asking for more till there was not
one latke left for the family. Though no one dared say anything, the
children and even the parents were quite disappointed. They would have
to wait till the next day, when more potatoes, oil and other
wonderful ingredients would be joined together in that oh-so-heavenly
way, before any of them could have that first Chanukah latke which they
craved.
They figured that the holy Rabbi must have had deep spiritual thoughts
and mystical kavanos (intentions) in his consumption. Perhaps with each
latke he was praising Hashem for the most amazing miracles of Chanukah.
Surely there were saintly and sublime reasons for the Rabbi's actions.
Reasons, which were perhaps too esoteric and abstruse for them to
comprehend. That must be the answer, they thought, to this puzzle.
Either way, no one could bring themselves to ask him, and he wasn't
offering any enlightenment or explanations.
It wasn't till much later that the mystery was uncovered. When Rabbi Heschel
tasted the first latke, it had a horrible taste. It tasted as though the
maid had accidentally mixed some kerosene with the cooking oil. Rabbi Heschel
feared that if the family tasted the vile latkes, or found out what
happened, the maid would be chastised or even fired. The humiliation
would be extreme.
This maid was a poor old widow. The Torah warns us not to vex the widow,
and she certainly needed this job. He therefore suffered through this
stomach-churning ordeal to protect her from any retribution. Rabbi Heschel
said, "I would rather be thought to be a glutton, than to have this poor
Jewish woman suffer."
These were the sublime thoughts and holy kavanos of the pious Rabbi
Heschel of Krakow.
Chanukah - 5762 By Rabbi Baruch Lederman
When the Greeks decreed that mitzvos may not be
observed, the Jews would not stand for that. They rose up
in arms, despite being hopelessly outnumbered. Hashem (G-d)
perfomed a miracle and delivered victory into their
hands. When our ancestors found only enough oil for one
day, though they needed eight days worth, they did not give
up, they still used the oil. Hashem performed a miracle and
the oil lasted for eight days. When people extend
themselves to do the right thing, amazing things happen, as
the following true story illustrates:
Private Stephen Winneger was on patrol one night
during WWII when he saw a figure running through a field.
He shouted, "Halt or I'll shoot." The figure ducked
behind a tree and started to dig. Stephen again shouted,
"Halt or I'll shoot!" He didn't halt. Stephen caught up
with him and tackled him to the ground. To his surprise,
he found he had captured a young boy. An ornate Menorah
had fallen from the boy's hands in the scuffle and
Stephen picked it up. The boy tried desparately to grab
it back shouting in Yiddish, "Give it to me! It's mine!"
Stephen assured the boy that he was among friends, and
that, furthermore, he himself was Jewish.
The boy had just survived
several long, tortuous years of the Holocaust in a
concentration camp and was naturally mistrustful of all
men in uniforms. He had come back to retrieve the menorah
he had hidden there. It was all he had left in the
world. He had been forced to watch the shooting of his
father, and had no idea what had become of his mother.
Stephen took the boy, whose name was David, under
his wing. As they became closer and closer, Stephen's
heart went out to the boy. He offered David the
opportunity to come back to New York City with him. He
accepted and underwent official adoption procedures.
Back home, a curator of the Jewish Museum in
Manhattan, saw the menorah and told David it was a very
valuable, historic, European Menorah and that it should
be shared with the entire Jewish Community. He offered
David $2,500 for the menorah—a staggering sum of money in
the late 1940’s! But David refused the incredible offer,
emphatically stating that the menorah had been in his
family for over 200 years and that no amount of money
could ever make him sell it. He would not part with a
family mitzvah tradition.
When Hanukkah came, David and Stephen lit the
menorah in the window of their home in New York City. An
hour later there was a knock on the door. When Stephen
went to answer he found a woman with a strong German
accent who said that she was walking down the street when
she saw the menorah in the window. She said that she had
once had one just like it in her family and had never
seen any other like it. Could she possibly come inside
and take a closer look?
Winneger invited her in and said that the menorah
belonged to his son, David, who could perhaps tell her
more about it. He went upstairs and called David down to
talk to the woman. And that is how David was reunited
with his mother.
DVAR
TORAH: CHANUKAH
Uminosar kankanim naaseh nais... From the
remaining flask of oil, a miracle was wrought...
(Chanukah Liturgy)
After regaining the Beis Hamikdash (Temple in
Jerusalem), the Jews found that there was only
one flask of oil left to light the Menorah. Not
nearly enough to keep the menorah lit up for the
eight days they would need before more oil could be
provided. They could easily have despaired but they
didn't. With great faith, they utilized the little
bit that they had. A miracle occured: The one flask
of oil, just enough for one day, lasted for eight
days.
They
didn't give up, and great things happened. This
quality has been a hallmark of the Jewish people,
and is one of the reasons that we are still here, as
the following two true stories illustrate:
The
Bobover Rebbe ztz"l, was the leader of one of the
largest Chasidic dynasties in Europe, establishing
dozens of yeshivos and amassing thousands of
chasidim. After losing almost all of his family and
followers in the savage nazi holocaust, he came to
America. He dedicated the rest of his life to
rebuilding the glory of pre-war Torah Judaism, on
the barren shores of America.
The
Rebbe would tell his few remaining chasidim that we
are the nosar kankanim - the remaining
flask of oil. The Jewish people were devastated
after the holocaust and left bereft and bedraggled.
We are the 'remaining flask of oil.' We will ignite
the sparks within us and bring about new miracles
And
flourish they did, today there are thousands upon
thousands of Bobover Chasidim throughout the world.
In
1933, Rav Dovid Leibowitz ztz"l, set out to do the
impossible - or at least what seemed to be
impossible at the time - to build a yeshiva in
America. The Jewish community in America was much
smaller than it is now. The few Jews there were,
were disenfranchised with Torah Judaism.
Assimilation was rampant. Torah was for the ghetto,
America was the land of new opportunity.
In
this hostile environment, and in a terrible economic
time (the middle of the great depression), Reb Dovid
forged on. People told him he was crazy - that
America was not suited for Torah. Reb Dovid
disagreed. Through incredible hardship, he built and
built and built.
Then, on December 5, 1941, a week before
Chanukah (Kislev 15, 5702) tradedy struck - a
dream was shattered. Rav Dovid Leibowitz ztz"l
passed away after a terrible illness. He was a
relatively young man, building up a small
fledgling yeshiva in Brooklyn with a
grand vision of spreading Torah in and
across America that was as yet unfulfilled. The
burden of his dream fell on his 26 year old son
Rav Henoch Leibowitz shlit"a, who took over the
helm of the Chofetz Chaim Yeshiva. He served for
twenty years when he reached a crossroads. The
yeshiva never quite got off the ground - twenty
years of sacrifice with barely anything to show
for it.
This was incredibly frustrating and depressing. Rav
Leibowitz had so much to give, yet precious few
talmidim (students) were coming to receive it.
He wanted to call it quits. He considered going
into a different area of Rabbinics which didn't
have the same issues, pressures and problems.
After much soul searching, he reached deep
within himself and recalled that his father Rav
Dovid had told him that leading the yeshiva was
within his grasp and was the greatest thing he
could do. Rav Leibowitz strategized and revamped
the methods by which he led the yeshiva. The
yeshiva began to turn around.
Since then, the yeshiva has served thousands of
talmidim who have gone on to serve thousands
more. Talmidim of Rav Henoch Leibowitz have
established branches and affiliates all over the
world and continue to do so. Congregation
Kehillas Torah is a proud affiliate of the
Chofetz Chaim Yeshiva
The
Maccabis did not give up, the Bobover Rebbe did not
give up, Rav Leibowitz did not give up. No matter
how dark and desparate it seems, the light of
Chanukah will always be there for us, to nurture the
light that is already deep within us.
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