College Kid Goes To The Biggest Ultra Orthodox University In The World

I heard the following story from Reb Aaron Goldman and it [music] never left me. Steve Goldman was the son of an extraordinarily wealthy executive and he went to Harvard. He graduated second in his class. He was a sensational tennis player. You couldn't design a brighter future if you tried. Money, prestige, talent, access, the whole world was open in front of him. And then his kidneys failed. And suddenly the trajectory cracked [music] and the dreams narrowed and the ceiling came down and he left Harvard and he went to change scenery in Princeton [music] University. And one day while giving a class at Princeton, Reb Aaron Goldman met Steve. And he befriended him and he invited him to spend the Shabbos in Base Medrash Govoha in Lakewood, New Jersey. This was 1990 back when BMG really had only one building, the Yeshiva. And on Friday night, Reb Aaron Goldman gave him a tour of the Base Medrash, the dining room, and then the basement, the Otzar, the library. And it was winter, Friday nights were long >> [music] >> and the room was packed. People crammed in there learning under piles of >> [music] >> ancient Seforim, old binding, yellowing pages, books stacked on tables and shelves and chairs. There was no palace, there was no glamour, just Torah, raw and alive. And Steve just froze. He couldn't move. He just stood there staring. And on Motzei Shabbos [music] as they were about to leave Lakewood, Steve turned to Reb Aaron Goldman and asked quietly, almost nervously, if they could go back down to the Otzar one more time and they went. And again, Steve, he just stood there silent, transfixed. And finally, Reb Aaron Goldman couldn't hold it in anymore. He turned [music] to Steve and he said, "I don't understand. At Harvard and Princeton, you have some of the largest, most impressive libraries in the world, endless resources, perfect light and pristine shelves. Why are you so overwhelmed by a basement filled with old, falling apart books?" Steve looked at him and said words that would go straight to the bone. He said, "Because at Harvard, you walk into the library and you see people reading books. Here, I see people living them." That's what Torah is. Torah is not a subject. It's not information. It's not culture or nostalgia. Torah is life itself. It's not something we visit. It's something we inhabit. It's not something we add. It's what everything else is built around. It's not one value among many. It is the engine that gives value to everything else. That's why we can learn in basements. That's why we can learn in exile. That's why we can learn when it's uncomfortable and inconvenient and costly. Because Torah isn't what we do. Torah is who we are. And that's the secret that has carried us through every generation. When Torah is your everything, no circumstance can take it away from you. You don't protect Torah for comfort. You protect it by living it. And that's why, no matter how dark the world gets, there will always be Jews in a corner of this globe somewhere under a pile of old Seforim quietly keeping the world alive. >> [music]