Chanukah - 5764

It 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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