Tisha B'av 2022: The Death of The Righteous - Rabbi Dr. Tzvi Hersh Weinreb

We're here once again on Tisha B'av. This year Tisha B'av falls on a Shabbos so the fast is postponed until today, Sunday. But this is the, almost the two thousandth time the Jewish people are gathering on this day to mourn, to mourn in general as we will see, but to mourn especially for the destructions of the first and second Bais Hamikdash. The first and second Holy Temples. Before I begin, I must give credit to the various individuals who have helped with this program. I want to begin by thanking the leadership of the Orthodox Union, Moshe Bain, the president. Rabbi Moshe Hauer the executive vice president, and Rabbi Dr. Joshua Joseph, executive vice president and chief executive officer. I want also to thank the videographer, Mr. Alex Cook, and his able assistants. I want to thank my assistant, Yocheved Goldberg. Yocheved has prepared a booklet which will be on the website and that booklet will allow you to follow some of the texts that I will be sharing with you and will also allow you to follow the flow of the entire presentation. And that will be on the website for you to access. It is already now on the website. I want also to thank the several guests whom we have, whom you will be hearing from as they pay tribute to four individuals who passed away in the past year. We will hear from Rabbi Moshe Schwed who will pay tribute to Rav Chaim Kanievsky. We will hear from Rabbi Moshe Hauer who will pay tribute to Rabbi Uri Zohar. We will hear from Rabbi Menachem Genack who will pay tribute to Rabbi Simcha HaCohen Kook, the Rov of Rechovot, and we will hear from Rabbi Hillel Tendler who will be eulogizing his father Rabbi Moshe Tendler. I want to especially thank once again the individuals who have sponsored this presentation and the other Tisha B'av presentations that you can access today. So it is dedicated by Richard and Debra Parkoff, in memory of Richard's parents Avrohom ben Yitzchok HaCohen alav hashalom and Rochel Bluma bas Yehoshua aleha hashalom. Let's plunge in to the topic of today. I've entitled this entire program Shekulah Misas Tzadikim K'sreifas Bais Elokeinu. This is a passage from the Gemara, from the Talmud, Maseches Rosh Hashanah daf yud ches amud beis, 18b and that passage says that the death of the righteous is equivalent, shekulah, it is equivalent on a scale, to the burning down of the Bais Hamikdash, of the Temple. We will be reflecting upon this. The loss of tzadikim, the loss of righteous men and women, and how their loss pains us to the same degree as does the destruction of the Bais Hamikdash. And we will survey a wide variety of individuals whose death, whose passing, and in some cases whose murder is equivalent, emotionally at least, to the destruction of the Temple itself. Whereas the Talmud in Rosh Hashanah, Maseches Rosh Hashanah, says the word shekulah, that they are equal. There's a passage in the Medrash Eichah Rabah, which is appropriate to study on Tisha B'Av, the medrash which comments on the sefer Lamentations, the sefer of Eichah. And it's a story. It's a story about two Amoraim whose names we're very familiar with. Rebbi Yochanan and Reish Lakish. Rav Yochanan the great master who lived in Eretz Yisroel in Teveriah, Tiberias, and his star pupil, his main disciple Reish Lakish, Rebbi Shimon ben Lakish. The story reads as follows. It's to be found in, and you'll see this reference in the booklet, the exact source, it reads as follows. Kademech Rav Yosi miMalchaya, with a man named Rabbi Yosi of a place called Malchaya. Not a famous person in Talmudic literature, he's mentioned here and there. But he passed away. When he passed away, selik Rav Yochanan v'Reish Lakish legemilus chasda. Rav Yochanan and Reish Lakish, two great rabbis, went up presumably the funeral was somewhere higher than Teveriah Teveriah is kind of low down by the Kineret by the Sea of Galilee, and they went up the hill to attend the funeral. Uselik imhon Rav Yitzchok Pesaka. Another student, another disciple named Rav Yitzchok Pesaka that's his name, he accompanied them. He went along with the two great masters Rav Yochanan and Reish Lakish. Vehava taman, along with them was an old man. Not even named. Chad sov. An old man. When they came to the funeral site, when they came to the grave site this old man wanted to stand up at the pulpit and say a few words. Bai lemei'al this old man wanted to stand up umivtach aloi and to open up with a eulogy of some sort in honor of the deceased Rabbi Yosi of Malchaya. But velo shavku lei, they wouldn't permit him to go up. The audience, the crowd, wouldn't permit him. He's an anonymous old man, and here we have these two great masters Rabbi Yochanan and Reish Lakish, it's not appropriate for this ordinary old man to come and speak. Amar lo Reb Yitzchok Pesaka, Reb Yitzchok Pesaka, one of the disciples, said Kadam ilein aryevasa d'oraisa at pesach pumeich? You're going to open your mouth and speak in the presence of these two lions of Torah Aryevasa d'Oraisa, lions of Torah. So Reb Yochanan who, this is a sign of true greatness, said no no. Let him speak. It's okay. We don't have to speak. We are mochel our kavod and let him speak. He's an old man. Amar lehu Rav Yochanan, Rav Yochanan said shavkunei dehu gevar sav. Let him speak, after all he's an old man. Older than us. Yei'ol veyishtabach veyasrei. Let him go and speak from where he's standing. There's a crowd standing at the funeral around the gravesite, let him speak. A'al, he stood up, ufesach. And he spoke. He began as follows. He said, matzinu shesilukan shel tzadikim, we find biblical texts in various pesukim that the passing, the demise of tzadikim kasheh lifnei Hakadosh Baruch Hu, weighs so heavy kaveyachol on the heart of Hakadosh Baruch Hu, of the Ribono shel Olam, of G-d Himself, yoseir mimeah tocheichos chaser shtayim shebeMishnah Torah. All of the ninety-eight strong reproofs that exist in the tochaichah in the Chumash are not as bad in the eyes of G-d as silukan shel tzadikim, as the demise of the righteous. Umichurban Bais Hamikdash. And even, the death of tzadikim is even more painful to G-d Himself than the destruction of the Bais Hamikdash. And he brings proof to this. He says, Besocheichos in Parshas Ki Savo it says, Vehifla Hashem es makosecha. G-d will punish you with punishments which will be hifli, pele, wondrous. In a negative sense. Astonishing. Shocking. But notice, it only says that word hifli, pele, once. Shocking. Once shocking. Bechurban Bais Hamikdash, by the death of the Temple, in Megilas Eichah, which we read last night, it's written, Vatered pelaim. At the destruction of the Bais Hamikdash we had two astonishing wondrous shocking events. Two, pela'im. So the destruction of the Bais Hamikdash is greater than all the tocheichos in Parshas Ki Savo, ninety-eight tocheichos. And only one pele, only one shock. Vatered pela'im, destruction of the Bais Hamikdash, two shocks. Pela'im in the plural. Aval besilukan shel tzadikim kesiv, when it comes to the death of the righteous, there's a pasuk in the Navi Yashaya, in Isaiah chapter 29, which reads, Lachein ko amar Hashem, Yeshaya Hanavi says in the name of G-d Himself, Hineni yoseif lehafli al ha'am hazeh haflei vafela. I am going to punish the Jewish people with such a hard punishment that it's three shocks. Lehafli, haflei, vafela. Vekol kach lamah, what was this triple shock which outweighed the double shock of the churban Bais Hamikdash and the single shock of the tocheichos in Parshas Ki Savo? V'avdah chochmas chachamav ubinas tevonav tistater. When the Jewish people loses a great chacham, a great talmid chacham, a great sage, a great navon, a wise and understanding leader, when he passes away, that's triple shock. More than the shock of the destruction of the Temple. That's the theme that we'll pursue today. The death of tzadikim, a triple shock, against the historic progress of the Jewish people. When did it all begin? The whole idea of a Tisha B'av. When exactly did it all begin? There's a fascinating Gemara in Maseches Taanis which is worth quoting. The pasuk reads in Parshas Shelach. Shelach is perhaps a turning point in Jewish history. One of the major turning points. Because in Parshas Shelach we read about the spies, the Meraglim. They were sent to spy out the land, they spied it out, they came back with a report, the land is beautiful but, but, it's inhabited by very mighty men, by giants, who live in fortified cities. We cannot possibly conquer them. That itself was a betrayal and the Jews were punished for that betrayal. But the betrayal was only by ten men, ten spies. Yeshoshua and Kalev were not part of that scheme. However, the reaction of the people was really the sore point. The pasuk reads, when the people heard this report, mighty men, soldiers, fortified cities, tanks, airplanes, jet planes, attack planes, bombs. Vatisa kol ha'eidah vayitnu es kolam. The entire congregation, the entire people without exception, raised their voices, vayivku ha'am balailah hahu. And the whole am, the entire nation, cried that night. And the Gemara says in Maseches Taanis, Amar Raba amar Rav Yochanan, Raba said in the name of Rav Yochanan, who we just met in the previous Medrash Eichah, ‏Oso hayom, what does it mean when the Torah says they cried that night. What's that night? That night was Tisha B'av. That night was on the ninth day of Av. Amar lahem Hakadosh Baruch Hu, and the Holy One Blessed be He said, Atem bechisem bechiyah shel chinam. You are crying for naught. You're crying a bechiyah shel chinam. A cry in vain. There's no reason to cry because the enemy is strong. V'ani koveia lachem and therefore, G-d says, I will make this night of Tisha B'av bechiya ledoros. A night of crying for generations to come. So we, generations after that night of Tisha B'av so many years ago, three thousand years ago in the desert, when there was a bechiyah shel chinam, we cry a bechiyah ledoros. We cry for all generations. That's the background for today. It's based on a bechiyah shel chinam, the lack of courage and faith in the face of a difficult challenge of a hostile enemy, and a powerful enemy, results in bechiyah ledoros. Now, I'm going to switch gears to a different time in history entirely. Until now we've been looking as far back as the midbar, as the desert. Long long ago in the time of Moshe Rabeinu. We moved ahead a little bit in history to the time of Rav Yochanan and Reish Lakish, approximately the year two, three hundred A.D. Now I'm going to move much more closer to our own time. I'm going to move with you to the Warsaw Ghetto. As you know, during the Holocaust, the very initial phases after Hitler and his hordes penetrated into Poland And in 1940 they set up a ghetto for the Jewish people, a Warsaw ghetto. And there were Jews in the ghetto until 1943 when the ghetto was entirely destroyed. There was a revolt, the Jewish people, those who were left rebelled, and after that rebellion the Nazis just destroyed the entire ghetto and destroyed other parts of the city as well. In the Warsaw ghetto there was a man whom you may have heard of. His name was Rabbi Kalonymus Kalman Shapira. And he was a Chasidic rebbe in a small town in Poland called Piaseczno. And therefore he's known as Ha'Admor m'Piaseczno, the Rebbe of Piaseczno. In the Warsaw ghetto, in the worst of times, a Jew walked in the street, on the wrong side of the street, he could be killed immediately. Famine, plague, disease were rampant. But he managed to maintain his sacred spirituality. And he spoke to a small group of people weekly, every week on Shabbos they would somehow get together and he would speak to them. And on the Shabbos of Parshas Shelach he repeated a speech which we would have lost forever, very few survivors of the Warsaw ghetto. He himself did not survive the Holocaust. But what he did before he left the ghetto, he took his notes from all these short talks that he gave in the two and a half years that he was in the ghetto and put them into a canister, like a milk can, sealed it tightly and buried it in the hope that after this hell would be over somebody would discover this canister, open it up and see inside a note. The note was written in Polish and in Yiddish. Whoever finds this please send it, it's my writings, the writings of my talks during these past couple of years. Send it to my brother who lives then in Palestine. In Eretz Yisroel, in Israel. And someone did discover that canister and did send it to the brother in Israel who published it and therefore we have this work, which I hold in my hands now, Aish Kodesh. That's not the name that he gave it, but it's a very appropriate name. A holy fire. On the Shabbos of Parshas Shelach 1940 he wrote as follows. We just read, he says, that the Jewish people cried. Why did they cry? Because they were confronted with a challenge. An enemy. A powerful enemy. Fortified cities. Well, isn't that logical? Why were they punished for crying? Wouldn't you cry if suddenly you were unarmed and you faced a powerful enemy? Let's look at us, he said. We're in the Warsaw ghetto. We are totally unarmed, we're weak from hunger. We're desperate. We're in terrible shock and mourning because our close ones have been killed on a daily basis for the past many months, so of course we cry. Why are the people held to account for crying when they came back, when the spies came back with a report that was so so discouraging. So he answers, aval kach tzrichah lihyos emunas ish haYisraeli. That's how strong the faith of a Jewish person has to be. Lo bilvad b'shaah shero'eh mavo vederech l'yeshuaso. Not to have faith in a situation where you have some hope, some approach, some plan of resistance, of fighting back and surviving. Gam al pi sichlo vederech hateva yaamin b'Hashem sheyoshiaihu veyischazek. Not only then, when you have a possibility to fight back, a possibility to beat the odds, do you have to have faith. But rak b'shaah she'eino ro'eh chas veshalom shum mavo al pi sechel vederech hateva. Even if you can find no approach, no mavo, no exit, no natural exit, no rational exit, l'yeshuaso, for salvation, even then, yaamin b'Hashem sheyoshi'eihu. To believe that G-d will redeem you, veyischazeik be'emunaso ubitchono. And you must strengthen yourself, encourage yourself, with your faith and trust in G-d. This was the lesson and he applies it to the people he's talking to in the Warsaw ghetto in 1940. Kinim hadevarim sheha'arim betzuros, it's true, we're up against fortified cities. We're up against Berlin, we're up against Hitler's army, mikol makom hineni maamin ba'Hashem, nevertheless I believe in G-d, shehu lemaalah meihagvul, whose power is boundless. Alo naaleh, he used the words that Kalev used against the meraglim. Alo naaleh, let's go, we can, we can succeed, even against all odds. Veyorashnu osa, belo seichel, belo sevarah, it may not be rational, it may not appeal to your reason, but b'emunah ubitachon kazeh, Hashem mekarev es yeshuaseinu. With that type of faith and trust in G-d, we will experience a yeshuah. The Piaseczno Rebbe himself, the author of those words, the speaker of those words, in that horrible situation, did not survive the Holocaust. But his teachings survive to this day. This book exists, it's translated several times into various languages, at least two or three times into different translations in English, The Holy Fire, Aish Kodesh. So he does live on. And there's many other books which he wrote before the Holocaust, which probably would have been forgotten except that this book earned him such fame, that people republished and republished again all of his many works and in that sense he's living right here among us, he's living with us today, as we explore the greatness of great tzadikim like this man and how that greatness is not only equal, shekulah, to sereifas Bais Elokeinu, but it actually is a greater, a greater loss than the loss of the Temple itself. So we will be looking at the tears, the tears of the Warsaw ghetto, the tears of the people, the Jewish people in the desert, and of course, above all, the tears of the destruction of the Temple, not once, but twice. As we proceed, I want to urge and hope that you have and can follow the entire program with this particular edition of the Kinos of Tisha B'av. It's published by the OU Press, and you can get a copy through the OU. It's co-published by Koren Publishers, who you can get a copy from their website as well. This edition of the Kinos was published now about ten or twelve years ago by the OU and Koren, it has all the prayers of Tisha B'av, the Shacharis, the Mincha, etc. It also has all the kinos, very clearly printed in a very fine accurate rendition of the text. It has the translation into English, which the translator was myself, I was given the task, rather daunting task to translate the entire work into English. It also has a commentary of Rav Yosef Dov Soloveitchek zecher tzadik l'vrachah. Rav Soloveitchek every Tisha B'av would meet with students and anybody who wanted to come and listen to him. But his program was not videoed unfortunately, but it was recorded in audio, and we have those recordings. But he spoke all day. He spoke from early morning until the end of the day. The programs you’ll be seeing will go on for several hours but not all day. Although you can watch them all day. One after the other. They're all available all day long. So I'll be announcing page numbers in this particular volume and hopefully you all have this volume, if you have some other edition of kinos you may have to turn the pages until you can find the particular kinah that we will be reciting. So let's proceed at our first kinah, Kinah number 11, Kinah Yud Alef, which is to be found in this edition on page 289 and it begins Vayekonen Yirmiyahu al Yoshiyahu. So on page 289 and if you do not have this particular edition, our edition, the Koren Mesoret Harav, Harav Soloveitchek, in most other editions of the Kinos you can find an index or a table of contents which will show you the leading words, the caption, the title of each Kinah. And you can find it that way. Vayekonen Yirmiyahu al Yoshiyahu. This is a Kinah which begins with the words Yirmiyahu, Jeremiah, lamented for Yoshiyahu, the king Josaiah. Two great men, Yirmiyahu, a prophet, one of the greatest of all prophets, and Yoshiyahu, the righteous king of Israel, one of the last kings of Yehuda, of the Jewish people, one of the last kings in the capital of Yerushalayim before the first destruction, the destruction of the First Temple. And Yirmiyahu laments his death. You understand why I'm beginning with this Kinah number 11, in past years we began with number 1, number 6, etc., we will be looking at several, perhaps a half a dozen Kinos from the traditional Kinah booklet, but why begin with this one? Well, if the theme is Misas Tzadikim, the theme is the loss of righteous people, here we have a Kinah where Yirmiyahu himself, one of the greatest of all prophets, laments, not the destruction, the imminent and in the time he wrote this Kinah, not the imminent destruction of the Temple, but the actual death of a tzadik, of Yoshiyahu. Yoshiyahu was a righteous king, which in his time was not easy. He had a difficult time with his people, with the Jewish people. So let's look together at this Kinah, and we'll just study some lines and some stanzas. It begins, Eichah eli konenu me'eilav. A wail, a lament, issued forth from these mighty leaders, in other words, automatically, one could not help but cry and lament the death of this Yoshiyahu. Ben shemoneh shanah hechel lidrosh me'eilav. When Yirmiyahu eulogizes Yoshiyahu he goes back to Yoshiyahu's earliest years when he was merely eight years old. At the age of eight he began to search for G-d on his own. Hechel lidrosh me'eilav. On his own, he had no teacher, we don't know about his teachers, he was surrounded by a troublesome group of Jews who were not necessarily believers, but he began at age eight, precociously, lidrosh me'eilav. To seek G-d. Bnei Cham b'avram chanu alav, velo huzkar lo sigui mifalav. The king of Egypt, the son of Cham, Mitzrayim is a son of Cham, passed through the land of Israel. Pharaoh Necho, the great Pharaoh in the time of Yoshiyahu, wanted to pass through the land of Eretz Yisroel on his way to conquer Bavel. These were two great powers at that time, Babylon and Egypt, the land of Israel is between the two, and the king of Egypt and his armies wanted to pass through the land of Israel and proceed to Bavel. Yoshiyahu did not want to allow that. He treasured the autonomy of his nation and didn't want some foreign army passing through, even though they were passing through on the way to attack their own enemy, the enemy of Egypt, Babylon, but also, as we know, the enemy of the Jewish people. But he stubbornly refused to let that happen. Which was a tragic mistake. Because they came anyway and there was a battle and Yoshiyahu fell in that battle. So here you have this eight-year-old boy searching searching for G-d, who was so committed to the sovereignty and the security of the land of Israel that he refused to let an enemy even pass through, and in the process, to say the least, we are disappointed by his death. And Velo huzkar lo sigui mifalav, the merit of his many good deeds was to no avail. So here we have the story of many tzadikim, many righteous people throughout the ages, accomplished many great things in their lives, and made one tragic mistake and that led to their downfall. That's an especially poignant tragedy. That a man, a righteous man, a heroic man, a courageous man, Yoshiyahu, a great leader, and a tough general, a military figure, who had faith in the ability of his people to defend against enemies on both sides, but he made that tragic mistake. That will be a thing that we'll see again and again today. Great people, no question that they're great, they make sometimes a tragic mistake that leads to their downfall. It continues. Gam bechol hamelochim asher komu ligdor, among all the kings of Israel who sought to mend the breach, the breach being the breach of idolatry, lo kam kamohu, none surpassed him, m'yemos Avigdor, from the time of Avigdor. Who was Avigdor? It's not an uncommon name these days, people are named Avigdor. But Avigdor was one of the names of Moses. One of the names of Moshe Rabeinu. So Yirmiyahu is saying in this Kinah, this Kinah of course was written by Elazar Hakalir, not by Yirmiyahu, but it's a paraphrase of what the poet imagines Yirmiyahu would have said. And he would have said, of all the kings who went against idolatry, lo kam kamohu m'yemos Avigdor. Between Moshe and Yoshiyahu, hundreds and hundreds of years, there were none as strong and as effective as he in eradicating idolatry. But what was the problem? Dovak bo avon leitzanei hador. The sin of his hypocritical generation stuck to him, stuck to him, dovak bo. He's a leader and sometimes a leader is frustrated by his followers. His followers are hypocritical. They promise their allegiance to him and they don't follow through. And they hide their hostility toward him. That was the source of his downfall. He couldn't help that. Dovak bo avon leitzanei hador, the sin of the hypocritical generation stuck to him. Asher achar hadeles kamu listor. They concealed idolatrous images on the interior of their doors. In other words, behind closed doors they worshiped idols. Yoshiyahu didn't know that at all. It was behind their closed doors. But in public, oh, they're against idols and they supported him. They betrayed him. Another common thing among leaders, of all nations and all peoples throughout all of history. The leader is authentic, the leader is committed, but he's sometimes led astray by his followers. And so too, the rest of the Kinah. Since this Kinah, this entire program today is being pre-recorded, it was pre-recorded several weeks ago, we will not be reciting each and every paragraph of the Kinah. But rather, in a moment we will pause, when we pause, you can recite the Kinah to yourselves, you have the translation in front of you, and when you're ready just turn it back on as we proceed to the next Kinah. But before we pause, one final point. We know from reading Tanach that Yirmiyahu indeed did recite a Kinah. He did recite a Kinah. But this Kinah is lost, it would seem. Look in the book of Jeremiah, in the book of Yirmiyahu, you won't find, you'll find a report about the fact that Yirmiyahu lamented Yoshiyahu's death, but you won't find the text of Yirmiyahu's kinah. But Chazal tell us that we do have this text. Because if you look in, last night we read together the book of Eichah, the book of Lamentations, the fourth chapter of that five-chapter work, Perek Daled of Eichah is that lament of Yirmiyahu. Yirmiyahu wrote the book of Eichah. And the fourth chapter is the text of that eulogy. It begins, if you look in this Kinah, in last night's service on page 43, and it continues on to page 45, you will see the text of that Kinah, which is worth studying. When I studied my own personal study of Megilas Eichah, the Book of Lamentations, I used various various editions and commentaries. One is a commentary by another great man, Rabbi Yaakov of Lissa. Rabbi Yaakov of Lissa is famous for many of his works. In the yeshiva world we know him as the Baal Hanesivos, the author of the Nesivos Hamishpat, or the Sefer Chavos Daas, or other great seforim, he's known as the opponent, intellectual opponent of the Ketzos Hachoshen. Ketzos Hachoshen versus Nesivos Hamishpat. That is Rav Yaakov of Lissa. So I'm going to just look together with you and together with Rav Yaakov of Lissa, the author of Nesivos Hamishpat, at the first two verses of this chapter in Lamentations. It reads, Eichah yu'am zahav, yishne hakesem hatov. How has the gold become dim? How has the very fine gold changed? Tishtapechna avnei kodesh b'rosh kol chutzos. The hallowed stones are poured out at the top of every street. Bnei Tzion hayekarim, the precious sons of Zion, hamesula'im bapaz, comparable to fine gold, eichah nechshevu lenivlei cheres, how are they esteemed as earthen pitchers, maasei yedei yotzer, the work of the hands of the potter. So in his commentary, the Baal Hanesivos, Rav Yaakov of Lissa, says, look at these two pesukim. And let's look at them ourselves now, that we've set up this contrast in the balance, the death of tzadikim and the destruction of the Temple, shekulah, in the words of the Gemara. Or, kosheh, gedolah, it's greater, the death of tzadikim is greater. The first pasuk, the first verse, speaks about the gold became dim. The fine gold changed. The stones, the holy stones, are poured out into the streets. That's a description of the destruction of the Temple. The holy stones. That's verse one. Verse two speaks about Bnei Tzion hayekarim, the precious sons of Israel, the leaders of Israel, the tzadikim, the righteous. So we go from the destruction of the Temple, that's the beginning of Yirmiyahu's eulogy, the Temple is destroyed, but worse than that is the death of Bnei Tzion hayekarim. The precious young sons of Israel. Young son of Israel is Yoshiyahu, who began his career at age eight. He's Bnei Tzion, the sons of Tzion. So in this eulogy, Perek Daled of Eichah, we have encapsulated in the first two pesukim the theme of today. The theme of Bais Hamikdash, superseded to some extent by the death of Bnei Tzion hayekarim. Bnei Tzion hayekarim begin way way back, in the time of Yoshiyahu, he was one of the Bnei Tzion hayekarim, extends through Jewish history, it certainly includes the Piaseczno Rebbe in the Warsaw Ghetto, and as we will see, it continues even today, when we feel the loss of many many individuals, great individuals, who passed away in recent months. I mentioned in my first words, words of introduction, that we will be eulogizing four tzadikim, four righteous individuals who passed away within the past several months, and to do that, I've invited four guests to speak about each of those tzadikim. I'd like to introduce to you now Rabbi Moshe Schwed, who is the director of the OU's Daf Yomi Initiative and other initiatives, who's done a great deal in the way of presenting content and programming for the OU, spreading the words of Torah throughout the world. In fact he just recently returned from a trip to England where several representative of the OU went to celebrate the siyum Daf Yomi of Maseches Yevamos and the beginning of the next Masechta, Kesuvos, because when you teach Daf Yomi and enable various lecturers to lecture on Daf Yomi in New York or in Yerushalayim, it's viewed by people in Manchester and London and of course across the world. Rabbi Schwed will be paying tribute to Harav Hagaon Hagadol Rav Chaim Kanievsky zecher tzadik vekadosh levrachah. Rav Chaim Kanievsky was rightfully known as the Sar Hatorah, the Prince of Torah of our generation. It's a great privilege to dedicate words of memorialization to this great individual who if we follow the text that I introduced you to, his passing is in some ways, not only equivalent to the destruction of the Temple, but in a very immediate sense, even greater, more painful, than the destruction of the Bais Hamikdash. Rabbi Schwed, it's all yours. Thank you very much Rabbi Weinreb for that introduction and those kind words. Before I begin I would like to share my personal relationship with Rabbi Weinreb. This goes back to my grandfather who lived in Baltimore for many many many years. And Rabbi Weinreb was the one who said the Daf Yomi shiur in Yiddish to a group of Holocaust survivors. So as we stand and we listen to these words on Tisha B'av, and many people take the time to reflect and study the Holocaust, it brings them the proper setting and anguish that they like to feel on Tisha B'av, I think it's proper to mention that relationship that Rabbi Weinreb had with my grandfather, Mr. Brisk and the many other survivors that he had the opportunity to teach throughout the many years that he gave that shiur. Rabbi Weinreb reached out to me about delivering some divrei hesped on Rav Chaim Kanievsky and it doesn't have to be said that I am certainly not at any level to be able to say divrei hesped on Rav Chaim Kanievsky. But perhaps I can share a perspective that may be from a different angle, based on what I've been working on together with Rabbi Dr. Eliezer Brodt, over the last few months. The theme of this presentation, Gedolah misas tzadikim k'sreifas Bais Elokeinu, the death of tzadikim is as large as the burning of the Bais Hamikdash, is extremely meaningful and impactful when thinking about Rav Chaim Kanievsky zecher tzadik vekadosh levrachah. And I think about this and I believe this to be true from two opposite perspectives. On the one hand, was there any gadol in the last thirty years, or at least in my lifetime, that upon his passing the loss was felt and recognized by such a diverse cross-section of Orthodox Jewry. The tributes and hespedim both written, spoken, recorded, are staggering. Is there a shul, a school, a community, that hasn't participated in some way or another in memorializing Rav Chaim Kanievsky. People were awed and people felt connected to Rav Chaim Kanievsky in many different ways. Whether it was through his hasmadah, whether it was through the chesed that he did, whether it was through the, so to speak, nissim or mofsim, the miracles, the stories that were told about Rav Chaim, people all felt a certain connection, and he was memorialized and eulogized throughout Orthodox Jewry. And that's k'sreifas Bais Elokeinu. That gives us an appreciation for the gravity of the loss of a tremendous tzadik, and what we're missing in the Bais Hamikdash. That's on the one hand. On the other hand, many of us struggle to really understand and feel the loss of the Bais Hamikdash. We've been in galus so long, we really can't appreciate what we're missing. In a similar vein, it's really hard for us to understand and relate to who Rav Chaim Kanievsky really was. In a certain sense, we're removed from having the ability to relate to such levels of hasmadah, of diligence in learning, such levels of piety, such levels of chesed, etc. So from that perspective it's also, gedolah misas tzadikim k'sreifas Bais Elokeinu, that it's hard for us to really understand and relate to what we're missing. I would like to share with you something I heard that highlights this point. Many of you are familiar with the story of Choni Hamagal. Choni Hamagal, the Gemara relates in Maseches Taanis, passed away or went to sleep for seventy years. And he came back and he walked into a Bais Medrash, he walked into a place where many scholars were learning Torah and he heard them saying, he overheard someone said over a halachic insight and said, Wow, it has the clarity of the way Choni Hamagal used to teach. And Choni Hamagal walked over to them and said, it's me. I am Choni Hamagal. And they didn't believe him. They didn't accord him the proper respect. And the question is, why wouldn't they give him the proper respect? Even if they didn't believe that it was him, at least give him the respect for the words and teachings of Choni Hamagal. And I heard over, based on what the Maharsha says over there, that these seventy years were between the destruction of the first Temple and the destruction of the second Temple. And the people who were living in the post-destruction of Bayis Sheini could not relate and understand the greatness of a person who lived during the first Bais Hamikdash. And that's why they said that, they didn't believe that it was Choni Hamagal and they couldn't even bring themselves to accord him the proper respect. In a certain sense, us, at least myself, relating to Rav Chaim Kanievsky, has that same sense of awe and disconnect. How could we connect to a person who was so great on so many different levels? So I spent time with Rabbi Dr. Eliezer Brodt who is a fascinating individual who knows a tremendous amount of Jewish history, but really has spent many many years studying seforim and books throughout the generations. And we've done, at this point, ten episodes on the works and books of Rav Chaim Kanievsky. I would like to share with you some of what we've been talking about, and this may give you an appreciation from a different perspective, and more of a way to relate to who Rav Chaim was by focusing on the works and the books that he produced. Rav Chaim had knowledge of the full gamut of Jewish literature, including exotic midrashim and new manuscripts that were constantly being discovered. Rav Chaim Kanievsky wrote seforim on many different areas of Torah. And he wrote many different style seforim as well. Just to mention a few very briefly. A sefer he wrote on the Rambam that was called Kiryas Melech. What was the sefer Kiryas Melech? Many of you are familiar with the Rambam's work Yad Hachazakah, which essentially takes Shas, Talmud Bavli and brings out the halachos that are relevant for a person. This was written in the times of the Rambam, since then many many works have been written on the Rambam. But throughout the generations many people, many Torah scholars, have spent a lot of time trying to figure out where the Rambam got everything that he wrote. Some things are easier and some things are harder, are more difficult. Rav Chaim Kanievsky uses Bavli, Yerushalmi, manuscripts, Tosefta, Zohar, all kinds of seforim, he takes his knowledge and breadth of the full gamut of kol hatorah kulah, and literally writes a sefer with thousands upon thousands of sources for the Rambam. One sefer. Another style sefer called Nachal Aisan. Nachal Aisan focuses on eglah arufah. Eglah arufah is a parshah in the Torah about a decapitated calf that is used as penitence for an unsolved murder. He goes through all the different subjects in many chapters, both from a halachic standpoint and analyzing the relevant sugya, the relevant subject matter This is an enormous work and this was done when Rav Chaim was still in his youth. Something extremely obscure is a sefer called Pas-shegen Haksav. This is a sefer dedicated to the laws of tattoos. This is analyzed from various perspectives, who can't do it, what can't be done, what is a tattoo that the Torah says is forbidden to be drawn. And one may think, is this relevant at all to our times? So there are many kiruv rabbonim who are involved with people who have tattoos and discuss these issues with them, but from a medical perspective as well, Rabbi J. David Bleich in his contemporary articles on medical halachah discusses the relevance of tattoos to medicine. And he quotes Rav Chaim Kanievsky. He's discussing about times when a person may need to have radiation treatment and it has to be laser focused. They may use some kind of inking which can be a question of tattooing. So it's really relevant in the modern times as well. Another sefer. And this perhaps may be the magnus opus of Rav Chaim Kanievsky, it's called Derech Emunah. In fact, on the tombstone that's placed upon his grave he's called the Baal Derech Emunah. The one who wrote the Derech Emunah. And this is, I believe a five-volume work on the laws of Zeraim, which literally means plants. Many of you are familiar with the Mishnah Berurah which is a compendium written by the Chofetz Chaim on the daily laws of life. Rav Chaim Kanievsky used that as a model to write about the laws of zeraim with very much a focus on the laws of the mitzvos hateluyos ba'aretz, the laws that are relevant to the land of Israel. He covers Terumos, Maasros, Shemitah, and all the subjects the Rambam covers in his work on Zeraim. One of the things that we see in this work especially, and in many of the other works of Rav Chaim Kanievsky is how he brings the works of the Chazon Ish to life. He was a nephew of the Chazon Ish, and the works of the Chazon Ish, even though he had works on the subjects of Zeraim, are very hard to understand. You must be a Torah scholar, involved in the subjects, and it's very hard to bring out what's relevant to the halachah. And Rav Chaim Kanievsky in many of his works brings out those relevant details of the Chazon Ish. One more sefer I'd like to discuss before I conclude is a small kuntrus that he wrote called Sefer Hazikaron. All about memory. And this sefer discusses different foods that a person should either avoid or eat if he wants to have better memory for learning Torah. And one of the things he discusses there is olives. Many people have heard about a custom about eating olives. Could they? Should they? How should they eat them? And Rav Chaim concludes over there without getting into his back and forth, you should only eat olives once every thirty days. And what's fascinating to me is that someone like Rav Chaim Kanievsky who we know, there are so many stories, the only thing he thought about was Torah, they say they had to remind him what he ate in order to know what brachah he should make when he finishes eating. But something which was directly Torah related, he would be able to keep a cheshbon. He knows that he ate olives thirty days ago and now it's time to eat olives again. To me that was something which was fascinating to see where a person puts his mind. One more story relating to the olives, and this brings out the respect that other gedolim, Torah giants, had for Rav Chaim Kanievsky. It's brought that Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach, who was the leading posek in his times in Eretz Yisroel and throughout the world, as soon as he saw this sefer printed and it said there about eating olives, he sent a letter to Rav Chaim Kanievsky and said, I can no longer eat olives for breakfast. He himself had the custom before that to use some olive oil together while eating the olives and that's a discussion of whether that somehow allows us to eat the olives. And Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach always did that. And in fact he would tell others that they could do that as well. But he had such tremendous respect for Rav Chaim that when he saw this printed, he stopped eating the olives. In conclusion, I hope this gives one a bit of a perspective through seeing just an ounce of his prolific works and gives us pause to what we've lost. And there are so many more works that I haven't even mentioned. Artscroll has published in English one of his works called Orchos Yosher. This is another incredible work with I believe around thirty essays which focuses on middos and topics in Avodas Hashem. This could bring us a real connection to a Jew who had everything that he needed. He was the happiest person around. Even though he had so little, he had much less than all of us, from a gashmius perspective, but he was so so happy in being connected to his learning and his Avodas Hashem. If we could tap in to just a little bit of this, it will be an ilui for his neshamah and a great stride towards geulah and binyan Bais Hamikdash bimheirah beyameinu amein. Thank you very much Rabbi Schwed. Your words are very appropriate and very very moving. I'd like to proceed now with the next Kinah and this will be Kinah Number 12. It's on page 301 in this Kinah, in the Kinah Mesoret Harav. It begins, Ahali asher ta'avta, page 301 in the Kinos that I have in front of me. Here, we will turn for a moment away from the lamentations of tzadikim, of great men, and instead we will focus on the central theme of the day, the destruction of the Bais Hamikdash, the destruction of the Holy Temple. Ahali asher ta'avta ad lo vereishis. It's a very short Kinah, and it's written also by Hakalir, Rav Elazar Hakalir, the great poet who wrote close to half of the Kinos that we say. In past years I've spoken at some length about him, when he lived, how he lived, how he wrote. But let's just look how he felt this is on the Temple itself. Moving now away for a few moments from holy men, and focusing on a holy place, a holy site s-i-t-e. He begins, notice every stanza begins with Ahali, my tent. The temple in a certain sense is a tent. Ahali asher ta'avta ad lo vereishis. My tent, the Temple, which You, You capital Y, You G-d planned even before Creation. Because, Chazal tell us, that the Bais Hamikdash was part of G-d s master plan before He created the earth. Ad lo bereishis. Im kisei chavod letzarfo. The plan was to join this Temple, this earthly Temple, in Yerushalayim, to Your throne of glory. A connection between above and below. Sulam mutzav artzah veroshah magia hashomaymah, that's the dream, a ladder going from earth to heaven. A central symbol in Judaism. Connecting heaven and earth. Material to spiritual. Lamah lanetzach shudad beyad shodedim. Why is it forever plundered by pirates? Venihyeisa k'roeh b'otrah, why have You, G-d, become like a shepherd in a mourner's veil? Vero'ashta veroganta, You're storming, You're protesting, v'atah mah li fo, what have I here now? This is not only about the Temple. It's a Jew railing against G-d. G-d, You had a plan with this Temple. Yes, we may not have deserved it. But You planned it. And now, You're without it. This connection between heaven and earth is broken. It doesn't only affect us, it also affects You, Your connection to us is broken. So you're saying, in the words of Yeshaya, Mah li pho? What am I doing here? And he continues. Ahali asher komamta le'eisanei kedem, becherdas mi eifo. My tent which You elevated for the powerful, meaning for Avraham, Yitzchok and Yaakov, long ago, when Isaac trembled, becherdas mi eifo. Isaac trembled, of course, on the Akeidah, on Har Hamoriah. The Bais Hamikdash. Lamah lanetzach tzumas beyad tzorim. Why is it forever firmly gripped by the hands of the foe? Veniheyeisa k'tzipor boded al gag. You, G-d, have become like a solitary bird on the rooftop, shrieking bitterly from the rooftop, mar tzoreiach, shrieking bitterly. What are You shrieking bitterly? This time a pasuk from Tehilim, Mah lididi fo, what are you doing here, my friend. My friend being Avraham. You're coming to mourn the destroyed Temple. The imagery here is that the mourning for the Temple began with Avraham and Yitzchok, with Abraham and Isaac, going all the way back to the Akeidah, to Har Hamoriah, that's the site of the Bais Hamikdash, what are you doing here now? Everything has become disconnected. There's supposed to be a straight line from Avraham and Yitzchok on that mountaintop, that hilltop in Yerushalayim, straight to today, without any enemies, without any warfare, without any destruction, etc. Ma lididi fo? What's happened now? Ahali asher patzta lemaano letzir, my tent, regarding which you exclaimed to the envoy, tzir, the envoy here is of course Moshe, Moshe Rabeinu who is our envoy, so to speak, our ambassador to G-d. Ve'ata amod imadi po. You said to Moshe, stand with Me. G-d said to Moshe, come here. Stand with Me. That's a connection. Lamah lanetzach urar beyad areilim? Why is this promise now completely destroyed? Why is it now forever pillaged by pagans? Veniheyeisa kesonei vetzar. And You have become, Yourself G-d, like an enemy. Veayeh ivui moshav po? What has become of Your, G-d's, desire to dwell here? I'd like to just take an occasion to comment on my own translations. My translation, I try to capture not only the feeling, the emotion of the poem, but also as much as possible the poetry itself. So when the author writes a phrase like urar beyad areilim, notice the ayin, urar, beyad areilim, so there's a poetry right there of what's, a technical term for this is, when you rhyme by having consonants with the same sound appear in sequence, urar beyad areilim. So I tried my best to translate it but I translated it as pillaged by pagans. So that you have that same poetic connection of the consonants p, pillaged by pagans. And similarly, patzta letzir, the tzadik, patzta letzir, exclaimed to the envoy. Exclaimed with an e, envoy with an e. To try to keep that rhyme. I try to do that throughout, it's not always an easy task. It goes further. And here let's quickly go through the entire Kinah itself. It's quite short. Without taking a pause. Ahali asher nachisa b'anenei hod, my tent, toward which in clouds of glory l'es asher yeshno po ve'einenu po. You guided us all, present and as yet unborn. Very important point. The point is that the people at Har Sinai, at the giving of the Torah, were not just those who lived then, so many thousands of years ago, but rather, it's us too. Those who were not here. We were in some way at Sinai. Very important point. Es asher yeshno po ve'einenu po. Whether you're here, you were actually there at Sinai, or whether you were not at Sinai, whether you're living in the year 2022, it doesn't matter. We were there too. Lamah lanetzach mo'eis beyad mordim? Why is it forever disgraced by the defiant? Again I tried. Mo'eis, mem, beyad mordim, mem, mem, mo'eis mordim. So I translated it as disgraced by the defiant. Veniheyeisa kelo yuchal lehoshia. Mah lecha fo umi lecha fo. You have become helpless. We accuse G-d of becoming helpless. We say, ke, alright, neheyeisa ke'lo yuchal lehoshia. We dare not say G-d You're helpless. But it's as if You are helpless. And we say, what have You here and whom have You here. G-d, what do You have now, at that formerly holy site. Ahali asher kivanta machon leshivtecha lechofef lechupo, the tent that You established as Your seat, from which You spread Your protective canopy, lamah lanetzach yu ah beyad yehirim? Why is it forever swept away by the hands of the haughty? Veniheyeisa ketas bechalal. You've become like a drifter in space. G-d is somewhere up there, high, and we can't connect with Him. Ve'ein od navi, no more prophet, gone is the prophet. Venamta ha'ein po. And yet You, G-d murmur, is there none here? Is there no prophets anymore? Well, with the destruction of the Bais Hamikdash, soon afterward came the end of prophesy. Ahali asher chanisa mei az besa av mipo umipo. My tent in whose chambers You once dwelled, lamah lanetzach zunach beyad zarim, why is it forever abandoned in the hands of strangers. Veniheyeisa kevasik yotzei chutzah. You've become like the long-standing resident who suddenly has emigrated, velo ovar po. Never to come back again. All these tremendous feelings of anger, we're angry at G-d in a sense, why have You abandoned all this glory? Why have You abandoned it? Why have You rejected us? Ahali asher heichanta, my tent that You predestined for lots to be cast before You, lehashlich bo lefanecha goral po, lamah lanetzach dochah beyad domim. Why has is been flung into the hands of the dumim, which is, meaning the Edumim, the people of Edom, Edom being a symbol, not only of Esav but in rabbinic literature, of Christianity in general. And of course, at the time that the writer wrote this, the Christians may very well have been initiating crusades, etc. to come against us. Veniheyeisa keger ba'aretz, You've become like a stranger in the land. Venamta, and You're muttering, ki lo nasov ad bo'o fo. Nothing will change until he, the Moshiach, comes. And finally, Ahali asher ba'avon bitzi chashchu kochvei nishpo. Now we begin to take responsibility. It wasn't just G-d's wrath that destroyed the Temple and everything that means, but rather, it's my tent whose luminous stars were dimmed by my selfish sin. I understand that it's my selfish sins, avon bitzi, my selfishness which caused all this. But still, lamah lanetzach upal beyad arurim. Why is it forever darkened by the hands of the accursed? Veniheyeisa k'orach bemalon, why have You become like a wayfarer in search of lodging. The powerful image of how we experience G-d at this time. He's here, He's there, but He's like a wayfarer, just traveling around looking, looking, looking for a connection. Orei'ach bemalon. A guest looking, searching for some connection, for some abode. Ve'od mi lecha fo. Whom else have You here. This is a beautiful poem, the destruction of the Temple, what the Temple means, it was pre-creation, it was doomed to be, it was supposed to be a tremendously spiritual power, and look what happened. Why, G-d? Look what's left. Look what remains of the connection. And the disconnection is a two-fold loss. We've lost You. You've lost us. Restore it. Bring it back. This is the Kinah of the Bais Hamikdash. I'd like to expound upon this a little bit and borrow, to some extent, from Rav Soloveitchek's commentary. If you have this Kinah, this particular edition, you can find it on the pages just after this Kinah. So we'll look together at pages 307 and 308. He's focusing on the words we just studied together. Ahali asher patzta lemaano letzir. We speak about the tzir, the envoy. Moshe Rabeinu was our envoy to G-d, our ambassador to G-d. So Rabbi Soloveitchek points out of course that this is an allusion to Moses, it's an allusion to Moshe Rabeinu. The first Bais Hamikdash was created before the world came into existence, the second was in existence when the Patriarchs were alive, and the third is the Ohel of Moshe Rabeinu. Moshe's tent in the midbar, that's the Bais Hamikdash in progress According to Nachmanides, according to Ramban, Moshe's ohel was also a Bais Hamikdash. Moshe's tent was a Bais Hamikdash. In this poem, Elazar Hakalir confirms Nachmanides' statement that the revelation of G-d's presence in the Bais Hamikdash was not a separate or isolated phenomenon but a continuation of the revelation at Sinai. For Nachmanides, the Bais Hamikdash started with the giving of the Torah and the ohel of Moshe was a substitute for the Mishkan. Those are the words of Rav Soloveitchek. But he's really paraphrasing the words of the poet that we just read who refers to the envoy, Moshe, and he's connecting us, Rav Soloveitchek is connecting us to a commentary which pervades the works of Rabbi Moshe ben Nachman, Nachmanides. The key for Nachmanides, for Rabeinu Nachman, Moshe ben Nachman, is the connection between Sinai and Moriah. Har Sinai in the desert of Sinai where the Torah was given, and Har Hamoriah, Har Habayis, the Temple Mount in Yerushalayim. Miles and miles away from each other geographically, but the connection is there. The Torah is the Bais Hamikdash. Matan Torah is the Mishkan. That's the connection, according to Ramban. So I'd like to use this as an opportunity, not only to speak about Moshe as a great tzadik and almost an embodiment of the Bais Hamikdash, we'll come to Moshe later, Moshe has patience. I wanted to speak about the Ramban. Rabbi Moshe ben Nachman, often because of the similarity of names, he's confused with Rambam, Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon, Maimonides. This is Rabbi Moshe ben Nachman, Nachmanides, lived some time later, a century or so after Rambam, he lived in the middle of the thirteenth century, the 1200's, and I'd like to introduce you to his family. Rabbi Moshe ben Nachman was born in a town which for some reason in our literature it's called Gerondi, now it's a town a day trip from Barcelona called Girona. G-I-R-O-N-A Girona. And it's a beautiful beautiful town. It's exquisitely beautiful. And it has in it till this very day the Jewish quarter. The quarter where the Jews lived when the Ramban lived, and was born in Gerondi, in Girona, and brought up there. And if you're in Barcelona you take a day trip to Girona, it's beautiful in every way, it's a tourist attraction, and it has what seems to be the original buildings of the Jewish ghetto, the Jewish quarter of Girona. He grew up there, and so did his first cousin. His father and this cousin's mother were brother and sister. And his name was Rabeinu Yonah of Girondi. Rabeinu Yonah of the same Girona. They're first cousins, and they had a lot in common. I want to first introduce to you and share with you, and this is available on your booklet, you can go to the, connect on the website to the booklet, to the page where you'll find the title of the passage I'm going to share with you now. And that is, Rabeinu Yonah, Berachos, the Tractate of Berachos, 29a. That's the title. And to do this I got to give you a little bit of background. But Rabeinu Yonah here says something astounding, but something which fits in with a lot that we've already discussed today. And that is, that Rabeinu Yonah understood living in the 1200s, the agony that we feel, the pain that we feel right now. And it's not just a pain of grief. It's a pain, we feel lost and we feel abandoned. Our view of G-d has become, G-d, You must be a cruel being, if You could put us through all of this loss and torture and persecution for all these many many centuries. To express what I just said is not easy, but we saw it expressed in the poem, the piyut we just learned, where Rav Elazar Hakalir expresses this anger, G-d, how could You, and we will see it now again in this passage in Rabeinu Yonah's commentary on the Rif in Maseches Berachos chaf tes amud alef. The Gemara there is discussing the following. We know, we all know, we say it three times a day, Hashivah shofteinu k'varishonah veyo'atzeinu kevatechilah. We speak about a G-d who is ohev tzedakah umishpat. A G-d who loves justice. What is the meaning, what are we praying for exactly when we ask G-d for justice, for judges? There are two approaches to this and Rashi mentions both of them and Rabeinu Yonah mentions both of them. One is, G-d, get us some real strong tough judges, and let them punish all the sinners and all of our enemies and let them really give it to them. Hashivah shofteinu. You, G-d, after all, You love tzedakah umishpat, You love equity, You love fairness, You love justice, You love what's right, so get rid of these guys. Get rid of these terrible enemies of ours and enemies of the world. That could be one theme. However, Rabeinu Yonah suggests, and I encourage you to look it up, you can read the text on the screen now by consulting the booklet. Rabeinu Yonah does not like that approach and by the way neither does Rashi. You can look in Rashi on Daf chaf tes. Rabeinu Yonah says it at greater length than Rashi. He says, no, that's not what it's all about. We're not asking for retribution, we're not asking for G-d to punish our enemies. We're telling G-d, we've lost the way. We can no longer be our own judges. You help us be a judge. Get us the right judges. Get us judges who will teach us righteousness, who will teach us equity, who will teach us fairness, who will teach us the proper things to do. We have to be taught. And when we feel a loss of G-d, we have no one to teach us. And that's what we're praying for. So Rabeinu Yonah says, writes, al kein nireh yoseir nachon, it seems to me the real meaning of this brachah is, sheratzah lomar, vehato'im, the people who are led astray, that's us, we're led astray. We're not talking about our enemies. Of course they've been led astray, they're leading themselves astray. But we have lost our way. She'heim Yisroel hamatichim devarim bazeh hagalus. We're protesting against this diaspora. We're protesting against the fact that for hundreds and hundreds of years we've been in exile. She'azav Hakadosh Baruch Hu osam. We feel abandoned by G-d, ve'eino mashgiach bam, we feel like G-d is no longer, cares about us. He's no longer in touch with us. He doesn't care about us. So we're praying, yehi ratzon, sheyishpetu bedaatcha, give us the power, may it be Your will, that we can judge according to Your daas. What's Your daas? Your knowledge? Your knowledge means, connection. Kesher. A bond, a bond of love, asher hi hachemlah vehachaninah. G-d's daas, G-d's knowledge is not intellectual knowledge, it's knowledge of compassion, knowledge of grace, knowledge of pity, knowledge of empathy. Vayeida Elokim. When we were in Egypt we experienced Your knowledge, Your knowledge of our suffering. Vezehu shehayah omer hanavi, this is what the navi says, G-d, ayeh kinascha ugevorascha, hamon me'ech verachamecha elai hisapu. It seemed like Your tremendous compassion is somehow being hidden. Lamah? Why? Lamah tisanu Hashem midarkecha, why have we strayed from Your ways? Because You haven't been there for us. Lamah tzamnu velo ra'isa, aninu nafsheinu velo seida, again from Yeshaya, why have we fasted and You don't pay attention to our fasts? We're torturing ourselves all day, fasting twenty-four, twenty-five hours, and You're not aware of it. We get no answer, we get no response. Bi'er, this clarifies, shemipnei histalkus rachamei Hashem, it's because that we feel that G-d's compassion has been removed, anu to'im bedrachav, that's why we've gone astray. Bedrachav hatovim, from Your good ways. Klomar, this is as if to say she'anu omrim, listen to this, she'anu omrim, we've begun to say shehu achzari, that He, G-d, is cruel. Achzari. Shehu hahepech mimidosav, which is the opposite of what we believe in G-d. We believe that He is rachum vechanun, compassionate. Vechen anu misra'amim, and that's why we're complaining today, she'eino roeh, You don't seem to see us. Ve'eino yodeia osanu berachamim, You don't know us with Your pity, with Your mercy. Vezehu mamash mah shenizkar bebirchas hashivah. That's the brachah, Hashivah shofteinu, sheyosir mimenu hayagon va'anachah. We say in that brachah, we want judges, why? To remove agony and pain. Not agony and pain. Galus. Remove that. Veyimloch aleinu levado berachamim betzedek uvemishpat. And You show us the way to perform tzedakah umishpat, by showing us Your tzedakah umishpat. Veheim derachav hatovim she'anu to'im atah meihem. This is the, now we strayed from Your ways, but to some extent G-d, so to speak, it's Your fault. You're not there for us in the way that we know You can be and could be and im yirtzeh Hashem, will be. So this is Rabeinu Yonah. He's expressing the feeling of a Jew in galus for centuries and centuries and the fact that, where are You? Where are You? I'm going to jump a century or two to a Kinah which is not in the book of Kinos but which I discovered actually by the recommendation of a friend of mine, I'll just give him a little shout-out, his name is Mr. Ira Epstein, and he is truly an expert on Kinos, not only the Kinos that we have, Ashkenaz, but the Kinos of all different congregations and communities of Jews across the world throughout history. And he put me in touch with a Kinah which is recited in many Sefardic congregations in the language Ladino. Ladino is the "Yiddish" of Jews from North Africa, from Central Asia, etc. They speak a mixture of Spanish and Hebrew. But the original text of this Kinah, and the name of the Kinah is Borei, Creator with a capital C, Ad Ana, Until When. That's the three-word summary of Rabeinu Yonah. Until when? How long are You going to be so distant from us? So I'd like to first share with you what this sounds like in a Sefardi shul by a chazan whose name is Hocha and this chazan, his name is Nechemiah Hocha, he recorded this rendition live on a Tisha B'av several years ago. And we'll start, I'll share with you the text in a moment, but first let's hear the sound. [recording] You've heard Nechemiah Hocha sing this chant. Now, let's look at the words themselves. I think if you listen to him, in that chant, you've heard the ability that he as a cantor, as a chazan, has, to convey the sense of protest which we've been studying this morning and which you've heard Rabeinu Yona of Girona in the thirteenth century, express the sense that G-d is cruel and the sense of protest, Ad ana, how long is this going to go on. In your booklet you have the entire text in the Hebrew of what you just heard Chazan Hocha chant. And it's captioned, it's headed, Bore Ad ana, b-o-r-e, Ad, a-d, Ana, a-n-a. Let's study this together and you must notice the beauty of the poetry here. And in your booklet you'll see a translation into English of the version of this Kinah as it's sung in the Spanish Portuguese synagogue on the West Side of Manhattan, to this day. Only they recite it, I understand, on the evening of Tisha B'av and not in the daytime. Borei, our Creator, Ad ana yonascha b'metzudah. How long will Your dove, yonah is a dove, d-o-v-e, be in this net. Toch pach hamokeish, in this trap. Aniyah umerudah, destitute and beaten. Uveli vaneha, without her children yoshevet galmudah, she sits desolately alone. Tzo'eket avi, crying, shrieking, my father, Papa. Na'ah gam nadah, mikaneh hayonah, the dove has wandered from its nest, from her nest. Ulekerach vechorev yom valaylah choneh. And she camps in frost and in hard heat day and night. Hi mischaredet m'cherev hayonah. She fears the sword of the oppressor. Mishinei lavi, she fears the teeth of the lion. Yah, eit azavta ota beyad toref, G-d, from the time that You abandoned her, her, this dove, to the hands of a beast of prey, p-r-e-y, ochal hatzavar umolak ha'oref, who has eaten her neck and flicked her back of her neck, ovru hashanim gam kayitz gam choref, years have passed, summer and winter, esa ol oivi. I carry, I bear the yoke of my enemy. Mi yitein eileha eivek hanesharim. Would that You would give this dove wings like the wings of an eagle, le'of bigava'ot ul'daleg behorim. To fly over the hills and to jump over the mountains. Lavo im dodah el toch hachadorim. To return with her lover to the inner chamber, az eshkach atzbi, then I will forget my sadness. Yoatzim aleha eitzot teyaanusha, they scheme schemes against her, and leave her helpless. Zorim achzarim samuach alushah. Knaves, cruel people, have made her weak, ve'ol kaved becherpah ubushah, burdening her with embarrassment and shame. Gadol machovi. How great is my pain. And then the conclusion, of course, optimistic and hopeful. Nacheim ol libah El shochen bimromim. Console, comfort her heart, G-d who dwells above. Devar nechamah al lev ha'agumim. Speak consolation to the heart of the bereaved. Kabetz nidachim, gather together those who have been scattered, pezurim, spread, ba'amim, among all the nations. Vego'el tavi. And bring the redeemer. Such a powerful powerful poem. Simple Hebrew, and you heard the chant of Chazan Hocha, how he expressed it as a protest but ends on the sign of hope, vegoel tavi. Bring the redemption. Bring a redeemer. Ramban himself was very fond of his cousin Rabeinu Yonah, and wrote a poem when his cousin Rabeinu Yonah died. And this poem exists, and it can be found, and I recommend this sefer to you because it's a book by Rabeinu Yonah, and an English translation, The Gates of Repentance, published by Feldheim and translated by Shraga Silverstein. In the introduction to this work you will find the poem that Ramban wrote in memory of his cousin. He died, the Ramban died if I'm not mistaken in 1264, and Rabeinu Yonah died in 1260, four years before the Ramban's death. And Rabbi Silverstein gives a wonderful English translation, which I'll just share some excerpts with you. He begins, make moan upon the day when mourning for all generations was ordained. When the crown and the garland were taken off, Harav Yonah, my cousin, the father of virtues, unique in purity, woe Mishnah, woe Gemara, woe Scripture, woe Mesorah, woe Talmud and Tosafot. Woe iniquity and exposition. Woe our lamented L-rd, in whom were contained the Tablets of the Law. This was a man who was the Torah, he embodied the Torah. One thing alone consoles me. Ramban writes in this poem dedicated to his dead cousin, one thing alone consoles me. When I am brought into my grave I shall see your face and righteousness shining in the light of the constellations. He looks forward to seeing him once again in a different world, in a better world, shining as a star in the heavens. Very eloquent and we don't often think of Ramban as a poet, but he certainly had that gift as well as his other gifts. Ramban also had a difficult life. Rabeinu Yonah was one tzadik and you see how his own cousin expressed the fact that his death is equal to him to the destruction of the Temple, equal to the loss of Torah. Ramban was forced at a time when he already left his birthplace of Gerondi, of Girona, and was living in Barcelona, he was forced by the Roman Catholic church to debate a person named Pablo Christiani, who was a Jew who had converted to Christianity, and they were going to debate, Christianity versus Judaism. The Ramban of course was stuck in a real dilemma. If he loses the debate, it's a shame, the whole Jewish religion is going down the tubes. If he wins the debate, you know, his opponent is not going to be very happy and his opponent has the power of the pope of Rome against him. And the Ramban realized if he wins the debate he's going to have to find a way to survive. To make a long story short, he won the debate, this is all on historical record, for more information about this I refer you to Rabbi Chavel's Kisvei HaRamban, two volumes published by Mosad Rav Kook, in the second volume he has all the documentation of that debate, so Ramban won the debate and then realized his life was in danger so he left Spain and went to Eretz Yisroel. He did reach Yerushalayim, there is a shul in Yerushalayim to this day that's called the Ramban's shul in the Old City. Legend has it, perhaps it's historically accurate, that he founded that shul, but even if he didn't actually found it, he inspired it in some way so that it's still called by his name to this very day. He settled in Akko, near the ocean, on the coast of the Mediterranean in Eretz Yisroel, but he did visit Yerushalayim. And he wrote a beautiful prayer when he was standing on Har Hazeisim, on the east of Yerushalayim and looking at Yerushalayim and looking at the ruins of Yerushalayim. Rav Chavel, Rav Chaim Dov Chavel, who was responsible really for making the works of the Ramban available to us lesser scholars, so he has this entire poem, it's many many pages, it's not a poem, it's a prayer, many many pages, and I just thought that I'd introduce you to the beginning and to the end of this, and you will find it, again, in the booklet, which you can access on the website under the prayer of Ramban for, at, the ruins of Yerushalayim, at the ruins of Jerusalem. If you have, look at the first page, you will see something which is interesting historically. When we think of all the persecutions and all the difficulties and all the exiles and all the wars, etc., we don't know the half of it. We know only a fraction of all the history. How many of you viewing this right now, Boruch Hashem we have many viewers, how many of you know that at one point in history, early in the thirteenth century, the Mongols came from where Mongolia is, that's Northern China, way over to the east, sent hordes of troops across Central Asia into the Middle East, all the way west, and they conquered what was then Palestine. Obviously they were able to somehow displace the Crusaders. Some say that they actually went to war against the Crusaders, the Seventh Crusade, and were able to, at least occupy a big chunk of what is today Eretz Yisroel. They in turn were displaced from the land of Israel by the Mameluks, m-a-m-e-l-u-k, who were a group of former slaves who kind of banded together and chased the Mongols back to Mongolia or wherever, and took over the land until they were displaced in the beginning of the sixteenth century by the Ottoman Empire, Turkey, until the twentieth century, the early twentieth century. So that whole diaspora, those few scattered Jews who were in Eretz Yisroel in the thirteenth century, and the Ramban who was seeking refuge and who came there in that time, somewhere in that time, at around 1260, that's what he met. He met the ruins of all these battles and wars, and the extent to which the Jews were even, remnants of the Jews were there. Obviously he barely found ten Jews in Yerushalayim. If you look at Rav Chavel's notes, number one, he says, quotes the year, which works out to about the middle of the thirteenth century, patzu haMongolim beyarkesei Asya. The Mongols came from the extremes of Asia, from the eastern extremes of Asia, vehitzifu, and they deluged, es kol ha'aratzos asher bamaarav. Everything to their west. Vegam es Eretz Yisroel samu lemirmas, they even trampled the land of Israel. At that time there were very few Jews left in Israel, but whoever was there, they displaced them. Ve'es ir hakodesh leto'el shemamah. And they reduced the holy city to a desolate ruin. Ve'es haYehudim shehayu bah, and those few Jews who were there, horgu b'achzariyus cheimah, they killed them with a cruel wrath. Userideihem, and the few remnants of those Jews, nifzeru lechol ruach, spread in every direction. Kesheva shanim achar hahareigah vehamenusah, about seven years after this killing and this flight, this flight, this escape, omad Rabeinu Moshe ben Nachman z"l, Ramban stood beshaarei Yerushalayim, after the Mongols had destroyed whatever they destroyed and brutally murdered so many people and sent the rest of them to the winds, Ramban came to the gates of Yerushalayim. Veshofach libo betefilah, and he poured out his heart in prayer nochechos zu, in the face of this tremendous tremendous disaster that faced him. And he offered the prayer that we have here. I'm going just now to look at the first two lines and the last couple of lines of this prayer. So on the first page, it's Prayer of Ramban at the ruins of Jerusalem. Omdos hayu ragleinu beshaarayich Yerushalayim. He's taking that directly from a pasuk in Tehilim. Our feet are now standing at your gates, Yerushalayim. Bais Elokim veshaar hashomayim. It's a poem, of course it rhymes, Bais Elokim veshaar Hashomayim, the gate of heaven. And he goes on for pages and pages to pray, to pour out his heart, as Rav Chavel said. But he concludes with this prayer. And he's facing complete desolation. You have to imagine what he's facing after these, these wars. And this tremendous upheaval. So he writes as follows, if you look at the second page of this two-page prayer, you only have two pages it's about a twelve page prayer in the text, he says as follows. Avinu Av Harachaman. Merciful Father. Lo yasom Yisroel velo almon. The Jews are not orphans and they're not widowed. Ramban's supreme confidence. He knew the lesson that the Piaseczno Rebbe tried to teach in the Warsaw Ghetto. You can be facing absolute desolation, I still have hope. I'm not an orphan. I'm not a widow, widower. Ki rachamecha aleihem bimkoman, bechol eis uzman. Your mercy, Your compassion is upon us in our place, at every time and in every era. Ubais avdecha zeh Moshe ben Nachman, and the home of Your servant Moshe ben Nachman, me, haba liros ircha umikdashcha bechurbanan, who has come from afar to see Your city and Your Temple in its utter destruction, uvekaro bigdo, and as I stand here and tear my clothing, ume'ilo, bocheh umisabel, I tear my clothing, my cloak, crying and grieving eilecha yishtachaveh, ve'eilecha yischanan. I'm bowing to You and I'm praying to You. Sheyizkeh veyireh devircha veheichalecha, that I should be privileged to see Your holy Temple, eilecha ve'eilamecha bevinyanan, in their reconstruction, being rebuilt. Einav tirena Yerushalayim nevei shaanan, may our eyes see Yerushalayim, tranquil, at peace, ve'arei Yehuda betikunan, and the towns of Yehuda rebuilt. Beshuv Yisroel l'neveihem. When the Jewish people will return to their home. Vekohanim la'avodasam uLeviim leduchanan shene'emar, uvara Hashem al kol machon Har Tzion ve'al mikra'eha anan yomam veyashan ve'al kol kavod chupav, and this is the paraphrase of the pasuk, pesukim in Michah and in Yechezkel, veshechinas uzcha bebais mikdashcha velo yikares me'onan. May the Temple never be destroyed again, vezeh avdecha, here I am, Your servant, I'm sitting in the shadow of these ruins. But this shadow of these ruins are the shadow of Yourself, ubetzel Shadai yislonan. I'm in the shadow of G-d, I'm in the shadow of these ruins. Baruch atah Hashem shomei'a tefilah, amein amein selah ve'ad zeman, until the end of all time. So this is two cousins, I call them cousins in the covenant, cousins, Rabeinu Yonah and the Ramban, with a Ladino poem thrown in, all showing again and again the loss of the Temple in the background is the loss of these individuals, Rabeinu Yonah, Ramban, and what they represented in terms of their faith and their trust in the rebuilding of Yerushalayim. I'll now like to introduce our second guest for the day, who will be speaking about a different tzadik who passed away in recent times. And I'm referring to my dear friend Rabbi Menachem Genack, the CEO of OU Kosher, who I think is best described, besides of all he has done for the entire world of kosher observant Jews, he is also mitalmidav hamuvhakim shel Rabbi Yosef Dov Soloveitzchek zatzal, he was one of the most prominent students of Rav Soloveitchek, umimarbitzei torato. And he is one who has dedicated his life to spreading the Torah of Rav Soloveitchek in so many works, in his own works, and in so many of the books and journals that he has published and edited, eternalizing the sacred teachings of his mentor, Rav Soloveitchek zatzal. He will be paying tribute to a very great man whom I personally was familiar with. His name was Harav Simcha Hakohen Kook zecher tzadik levrachah. He was the Rov of Rechovot, and also the Rov, toward the end of his life, in more recent years, of the so-called Churva shul in the Old City of Yerushalayim. I introduce you to yedidi hachacham Rav Menachem Genack. I'd like to speak about a figure in Jewish life who played an important role in Israel and also especially important role in terms of the OU's activities in Eretz Yisroel. And that's Harav Simcha Hakohen Kook, zecher tzadik levrachah. He was the most extraordinary person. The great nephew of the first chief rabbi of Israel, Rav Avrohom Yitzchok Hakohen Kook, zatzal. He reflected many of his values. Rav Kook was born in what became known as the Mandelbaum gate, the Mandelbaum house, which was owned by his maternal grandfather Rav Simcha Mandelbaum, for whom he was named. That became the point of division between Jordan, the Jordanian forces and Israel, the Mandelbaum Gate. It's somewhat ironic, because Rav Kook, his entire life, he was a person who was bringing people together, through his love, through his understanding, through his sensitive speech, he was in every respect extraordinary. When his older brother was tragically killed in a car crash, he and his wife and children, two of his children, Rav Kook was offered the position to be the chief rabbi of Rechovot, which was the position that his brother held. And Rechovot was not necessarily a religious city, there was both, of course a religious population and a secular population. Rechovot was most known for the Weitzman Institute and the research that was being done there. But Rechovot became known for the civility between both communities, the secular and the religious community, and that was in large part due to Rav Kook. He fought for shemiras Shabbos within the city, and he founded, together with his brother Avrohom Yitzchok Kook shlita, the Yeshiva Meor Hatalmud, which he served as the Nasi of the Yeshiva, the chairman of the Yeshiva. And therefore he played two roles. Both as the chief rabbi of the city, and also as the chairman of the yeshiva. And by doing that he felt that he also communicated to the talmidim of the yeshiva the sense of communal responsibility that was his responsibility of course as the chief rabbi. And he used that position to bring people together, to try to end, or mitigate against the divide between the religious and secular community. And it was always done with love. Rav Kook, forty years ago, I reached out to him and he helped the OU, he became chairman of our program of our kashrus supervision within the State of Israel. And we've always stayed close. He had a special love for people. He gave me a copy of a sefer which his father, Rav Rafael Kook, had written. It was a sefer on Chumash with chidushim and he'aros from the Brisker Rov, Rav Yitzchok Zev Soloveitchek zatzal, because his father would go to Reb Velvel's house, Reb Velvel wanted to have a Birchas Kohanim in the minyan in his house and he, so to speak, to compensate him, he used to tell Rav Rafael chidushim on Chumash. And he published this wonderful sefer, an expansive sefer of chidushim from Reb Velvel, from different sources. And Rav Kook gave me a copy of it and he inscribed it, as he often would, and it said, B'ahavah, b'birkas Kohen b'ahavah. And that's what he represented. Like Aharon Hakohen, his predecessor, ohev shalom verodef shalom, bringing people together. And while he was firm in his convictions, and while he sometimes he had to take a stand against chilul Shabbos within his city. When he first came only twelve percent of the students in Rechovot were getting a religious education. Now it's half of the city. And that was due to his efforts. When he first came, there weren't many kosher facilities and stores. Now there are many many throughout the city. And that was also because of his entreaties. He would go to stores, try to get the owners if they were open on Shabbos to close down, and it was only because of his kindness and the high regard that he was held in and the respect that he always afforded others. Birkas Kohen b'ahavah, that he was able to accomplish that. But he also always worried and cared about the individual. His son Reb Aryeh told me that there were things, because of his modesty so many stories that they didn't even know about him, but during the shiva period a couple, a family came, a young, originally, you know, a young person, and he told them that his mother, who was a giyores, a convert, from India, had come with her young child. And Rav Kook, out of his love said, you know what, I'm going to study with you every day and he would set the time each day of a period of time to learn with this young child. He was only four years old. And he would teach him Torah, at the appropriate level of a four year old, and when they were sitting shiva this boy, who had now grown up, came and told this story to the family. They didn't even know it. But there are so many of these kind of stories about Rav Kook. About his love for the individual and his caring. And while establishing within Rechovot and within the OU firm and strong standards of kashrus, which he did within the city, and being firm about it, uncompromising about many halachic issues, but he always worried about the way it would be portrayed. And that's why Rechovot is one of the rare cities within Israel where there is respect between all segments of the population, between the religious and the not religious, and a lot of that has to do with Rav Kook. He once, there was a candidate for mayor of Rechovot who was running on essentially an anti-religious platform. Rav Kook on that occasion supported the opponent, something he really didn't take a overt political position. This candidate lost. But he maintained always a close and respectful relationship with the mayor who won, and when this mayor retired from office and because of the relationship that they developed, he came specially to Rav Kook's house to thank him for the way he conducted himself and was always there to build bridges. In his later years Rav Kook was very very proud, he became the Rov of the Churva shul in Yerushalayim. I remember once going there and Rav Kook giving me an elaborate tour of the shul and the history of the shul. It was Rav Kook's love for Eretz Yisroel and the Churva shul represented the rebuilding of the Land. Rav Kook's concern for Jews wasn't only limited as I said to his town or to his city, he would often travel to the Ukraine, several times a year, to teach Torah to the Ukrainian Jews and of course now it's a time of crisis in the Ukraine, but that love extended to every Jew. Whenever he would look at a person, irrespective of his situation in terms of whether he was secular or religious, his economic condition, all that he exhibited was his love for a fellow Jew. And his love for Eretz Yisroel. His loss is a very profound one for Eretz Yisroel, but the rich legacy that he leaves in terms of the infrastructure that he built, Torah infrastructure within Rechovot, the Yeshiva, the mosdos of Torah, all the establishments, restaurants, that are kosher and many of them that he transformed from being open on Shabbos to being closed on Shabbos, that legacy, that rich legacy lives on. He will always be like his great uncle a model of building Toras Eretz Yisroel. Eretz Yisroel hasheleimah. And his deep profound love for every Jew. Thank you very much Rabbi Genack. I want to say just one word, it's almost humorous, not in the spirit of the day, but it'll help give you a picture of this Rav Kook, Rav Simcha Kook. He was of course related to Rav Avrohom Yitzchok Hacohen Kook, the famous Rav Kook who was his great uncle. And the picture that you have in your booklet of the Rav Kook to whom Rabbi Genack just paid tribute, you have a picture of him sitting, smiling, under a portrait of his famous great uncle Rav Avrohom Yitzchok Hacohen Kook. I first met Rav Simcha Kook when I was on an airplane myself traveling from Israel back to the United States. And I was sitting, it was at the beginning of a cycle of the Daf Yomi study. Beginning of that cycle. And at that point, they were studying Maseches Brachos, I had with me on the airplane a small Gemara with Maseches Brachos and I was learning myself. Rav Kook, whom I didn't know then came walking down the aisle and he saw me studying the Gemara, he introduced himself to me and said, I came here on an urgent mission, I didn't really have time to pack any sefer, any books, can I sit and study with you Maseches Brachos, I also study Daf Yomi. We were already in the air. And I said sure. He sat down, the person next to me changed seats with him and he sat down next to me and for the rest of the flight, for eight or nine hours, we studied Maseches Brachos together, and then we landed. And he said to me, Well, you are my chavrusa in heaven. We were in heaven. We were in the air, in flight over the Atlantic Ocean, studying. So he said, you're my chavrusa in heaven. Then we heard an announcement that the plane was delayed, it couldn't go straight to the gate, we would have to spend another time, it was about a half an hour on the runway before we could taxi to the gate. So he said, Okay, let's continue learning. We continued learning and when we finished he said, oh, in Hebrew, he said, now, you are my chavrusa not only bashomayim but bashomayim uva'aretz. Some years later he was the guest speaker at an OU convention in Yerushalayim and when he spoke I actually introduced him to speak and he introduced himself to the audience by saying, oh, Ani hachavruta shel Rav Weinreb bashomayim uva'aretz. I am Rabbi Weinreb's study partner in heaven and on earth. No one knew what he was talking about, but now you know. I'd like to go now to continue and this time to continue with Kinah number 13, which you can find on page 315 in the Kinot Mesoret Harav. Page 315. It begins, Ei Ko. We will pause in a moment for you to recite this Kinah on your own, but before that I want just to draw your attention to one phrase in this Kinah. The Kinah is based upon a medrash which analyzes or decomposes the term Eichah, where, how much, how terrible, into the words ei ko, which I would translate as where then is the promise? Where? What happened? What happened to the promises that we had? And in the process we, look at stanza one, two, three, four, on page 315, Ei ko zam vehorag Mitzri. Where was the promise to Moshe who stood up and killed the Egyptian, the Egyptian who was beating a Jew, b'gan na'ul bakodesh. By pronouncing Your Holy Name, shielded by a discreet garden in a mysterious fashion. Vayifen ko vacho, he looked this way and that way. Alright. Chutam edot kodesh, confident that the mouths of his holy compatriots were sealed etc. But notice that vayifen ko vacho, he looked this way and that way. We'll pause now and allow you to recite for yourselves the next page or two of the Kinah in Hebrew with the English translation. After that pause we'll resume with some reflections upon that phrase, vayifen ko vacho. We can now resume with a commentary from Rav Soloveitchek about this Vayifen ko vacho. And you know the story. Moshe was a prince in Egypt. He was rescued from the sea, from the lake, from the waters, by Pharaoh's own daughter. And he was raised by her. Yes, he was nursed by his own mother. We know the story. But he was raised till he was a young man in the palace. He was raised in royalty, presumably he had all the riches in the then known world. He was pampered and he was highly educated in the Egyptian university system. And then, Vayigdal Moshe, he grows up, he matures, vayeitzei el echav, he goes out to his brothers, and he sees an Ish Mitzri, he sees an Egyptian slavemaster, beating, and possibly beating to death, a Jewish slave. So he picks himself up, looks around, vayifen ko vako, he looks this way and that way, and strikes the Egyptian, Vayach es hamitzri vayitmeneihu bachol. He strikes, kills the Egyptian slavemaster, buries him in the sand. Vayifen ko vako. He looks this way and that way. Simple meaning, he wanted to see if there's anybody around who is going to observe him kill this Egyptian slavemaster. But Rav Soloveitchek has a different spin and I'd like to briefly share with you my own different spin. First of course, Rav Soloveitchek. He writes, towards the bottom of page 322, from yet another perspective, vayifen ko vako, he looks this way and that way represents the important lesson that Judaism sometimes requires one to act on the spur of the moment without regard to carefully laid plans. Very important. We don't always have time to prepare for important decisions. Moshe was going on a shpatzir, he was going on a picnic, just going for a walk, vayeitzei el echav, he wanted to see what these Jews were doing, what his fellow Jews were doing, how he knew that he was even Jewish is a mystery. But he went out to observe, to see, vayeitzei el echav. And look what he saw. And he had to act on the spot. You know here this Egyptian slavemaster legally, by the laws of Egypt, beating to death a Jewish slave who presumably was not doing his work properly. So he had no plan. He had no time to plan. But we are taught that sometimes you have to act on the moment. But then Rav Soloveitchek goes further. And he says, Moshe had a decision to make. He could have said, oh, I'm going to help these Jews. Yeh, this guy's getting beaten up right now, he might be dead in a few minutes. This slavemaster is brutal. But if I go back to the palace as a prince of Egypt, I could save the Jews in all kinds of ways. I could reduce the intensity of the slavery, I could perhaps negotiate with my stepfather, my foster father, Pharaoh, and somehow maybe I'll even get them to be free again. You know I could save all six hundred thousand Jews. And I'm going to risk all that because if I kill this one slavemaster, Egyptian slavemaster, somehow Pharaoh is going to find out, he's going to disown me at the very least and he's probably going to kill me or try to kill me and then I won't be able to do something for the entire Jewish people. So he had an important decision to make. Which way am I going to go? Vayifen ko vako, I can go this way, I can go that way. Vayach es hamitzri. He decided, I've got to take care of this individual now. As Rav Soloveitchek puts it, he knew that if he is going to kill this Egyptian at this time, he would become a persona non grata with Pharaoh and he would be forced to leave Egypt. He knew that his careful plans for reforms would not be implemented. Hundreds of thousands of Jews could have been helped if Moses had stayed in Egypt. Moses could have let the Jew defend himself. But instead, Moses acted immediately and energetically to save the individual. Moses felt compelled to act and to sacrifice the good of the community for the sake of this one individual. This is an essential lesson of Judaism. You must help the individual immediately. Even though by helping the individual you may jeopardize your own destiny or the destiny of the people you wish to help. When an individual is tortured, ignore the klal and save the yachid. You will save the klal when you have another opportunity. Eloquent and powerful, the teaching of Rav Soloveitchek. The importance of the individual. The importance of the individual, whoever he or she may be, sometimes overrides the importance of the community. The community, ein hatzibur meis, the community will win in the end, this individual is helpless now and he's going to be dead in a few minutes if you don't intervene. So you intervene now, risk your reputation, go into exile, and you'll help the community in another way at a later time. It's a powerful powerful lesson. I have my own twist on this Vayifen ko vako, and it perhaps is related to my training and experience in a career of psychology. Moshe had an identity problem. He was raised as an Egyptian prince. He could have considered himself an Egyptian, identified as an Egyptian and everything in his life would have been fine and dandy. But on the other hand, vayeitzei el echav vayar besivlosam. He saw his brothers, he knew he was a Jew, so he had an identity conflict. Am I an Egyptian or am I a Jew? And he had to assert his identity to use very modern terminology. He had to claim, he had to identify. So vayifen ko vako, he looked this way and that way. Am I an Egyptian or am I a Jew? Vayifen ko vako. He looked this way and that way. Inside of him he saw both an Egyptian and a Jew. He was torn apart. Vayach es hamitzri. He struck the Egyptian within him. He said, I disidentify, I relinquish my throne as the prince of Egypt. I'm giving that up. Vayitmenehu bachol, and he buried it, put it behind him. And he asserted, at great risk to himself, his identity as a Jew. I'm a Jew, I'm a fellow of this person who is being beaten by the slavemaster, and if it means that I'm going to have to run away, leave Egypt and leave my royalty and become a simple shepherd for my father-in-law in the desert, I'll do that. He identified as a Jew. And this is a very very important lesson in this Kinah and a lesson from Moshe Rabeinu. When we speak of Moshe Rabeinu, when we speak about tzadikim, how their loss is a greater loss than the Bais Hamikdash, Moshe is the best example of that. There's a beautiful drush, a beautiful sermon, if you wish to call it that, in the sefer Parashas Derochim by the author of the Magid Mishneh. And he quotes a medrash and he builds his whole drush, drush ches, in his sefer. He builds his whole drush upon the medrash which says that had Moshe lived to enter Eretz Yisroel, to enter the Land of Israel, which he was not allowed to do, that had he been allowed to do so, then the Bais Hamikdash would never have been destroyed. Moshe's living in Eretz Yisroel and teaching in Eretz Yisroel would have led to the permanent status of the Bais Hamikdash. So with Moshe's death, literally, came a loss of the Bais Hamikdash. Shakul misasan shel tzadikim. The death of a tzadik, of Moshe, is equivalent to sreifas Bais Elokeinu. In so many many ways. We'll stop right now because I want to introduce the next guest, who himself is no guest here, and that's my dear friend Rabbi Moshe Hauer, executive vice president of the Orthodox Union. Rabbi Hauer and I go back a long way, I knew him way back when, we worked together for some time as rabbis in the same community and he is now the executive vice president of the Orthodox Union and he will be speaking about another person who had an identity conflict and mastered it, and that is Rabbi Uri Zohar. Rabbi Hauer, it's all yours. The first time that I met Rav Uri Zohar was in Los Angeles. I was at a minyan in a Kollel and a family member who I was visiting with said, That's Rav Uri Zohar. And we went over to say hello and we just made small talk to see what was doing, and Rav Uri said he was struggling with a Maharsha. Maharsha is a deep and intense commentary on the Gemara, on Tosfos, and it was striking. Here we were visiting in Los Angeles, you know, part of the obligatory tour of Los Angeles is to drive and to see those long snaking driveways of the Beverly Hills mansions behind the gates, the movie stars live and their big and amazing homes. When here we encounter this man, who was Israel's biggest movie star, a cultural icon, who one day essentially, one day in 1977, decided to trade it in, to shift to something else. And now his closest friend was the Maharsha. When I had a chance to visit him in his home, which you couldn't even call a home almost, he had once lived in a villa on the beach of Tel Aviv. And then he traded it in for an apartment in Yerushalayim. And then over the last bunch of years of his life he traded the apartment in for a converted machsan, a converted storage room, a tiny tiny apartment, and I visited him there and encountered the happiest person, the most secure person, the ashir hasomei'ach bechelko, who said, I'm the richest person in the world because there's nothing that I need that I don't have. That ability to turn, to trade in one thing for the other. Amazing. Remarkable. You know that Rav Uri Zohar had an ongoing argument with Rav Noach Weinberg, who was, while Rav Noach was not the one who was mekarev him to Torah, that was done by Rav Zilberman of the Old City of Yerushalayim, Rav Noach had a relationship with him from the beginning. And Rav Noach, who had this passion for bringing Jews back to Torah, was more excited than anyone about the fact that Israel's most visible cultural icon had chosen a path of Torah. And he wanted desperately that Rav Uri would dedicate his life now to bringing others back. And Rav Uri resisted. He wanted to learn Torah. He wanted to study Torah on his own. And they argued. And they debated. And he would say to Rav Noach, how many people do you think you're going to be mekarev, you're going to bring to Judaism already? Seven thousand? And Rav Noach, with his unlimited ambition said, I won't rest until we bring every Jew back to Torah. And Rav Uri didn't see it that way. Maybe he didn't see it that way because he knew how difficult it was to make that change. He knew that for someone to give up the life that they had generally, in order to embrace a life of Torah was heroic and not something to be assumed. But there was something else. And that something else was that he knew that he couldn't just trade in the stage of comedy, of cinema, of entertainment, for a different stage. He had to transform himself into someone who would be focused on an inner world, on a world where he wasn't in the limelight. Eventually Rav Uri would use his personality and his strengths and his charisma to indeed encourage and draw many people back to Torah. But first he needed to spend fifteen, twenty years, just living with the Maharsha. Just living a private and serious focused life on an inner world which is not dependent on the approval, on pleasing others, on getting whether a laugh or any other form of feedback from people around him. But to be focused on reality. On the ultimate reality. The Gemara tells a story about Elazar ben Dordaya. The Gemara in Avodah Zarah daf yud zayin, Elazar ben Dordaya who was very steeped in all kinds of immorality, who would travel to all ends of the world to satisfy his desires. Until one day, he was actually given a word of rebuke from someone who he had traveled in order to be able to engage in his indulgent endeavors. And they said, you know, you're just running all over the place, you're never going to find your way back. And Elazar ben Dordaya was struck by this comment, and he turned, as the Gemara says, he turned to the mountains, to the hills, to the sun, to the moon, anyone to help him, to pray, to help him to get back. And they all said, we can't help you, until Elazar ben Dordaya turned inward, and he said, ein hadavar talui ela bi. It's up to me. He realized that he had spent his life pursuing satisfaction elsewhere, trying to find it in some other place, and even as he realized his mistake he was looking for others, he was looking for other things to be able to support him. And until he realized, until it sunk in, that ultimately the resolution would be found within him, would be found in his own change, in his own transformation, in his own ability to find satisfaction bechelko, in the portion which he had within himself, and then he was overwhelmed and ga'ah, it says in the Gemara that he was overwhelmed with weeping, with grief, until he literally, the way the Talmud says it, literally, that he passed from this world in the grief of having to shift from one to the other. You know, Tisha B'av is a day of bechi. It's a day of tears. The Chazal, the Sages attribute it to Vayivku ha'am balaylah hahu. The nation cried on that night. On the night when we got the report of the meraglim, the report of the spies. And we're told, you cried on that night for no reason, ani ekva lachem bechiyah ledoros, I will make you cry for the generations. The Maharal of Prague in Sefer Netzach Yisroel explains that it's not natural for a person to cry about going home. Home is chein hamakom al yoshvav. Home is where we yearn to go back to. And when the Jewish people cried at that time, on the original Tisha B'av, about going back to Eretz Yisroel, when we cried about going there, we portrayed that somehow we really weren't considering it as our home, as our place. And that's what made it that for generations we would find ourselves removed from there, because it belied a disconnection, it wasn't really who we are, it wasn't really where we belonged, it wasn't really our place. And so every year, Tisha B'av we cry. Not just as punishment for those tears, but because on Tisha B'av is when we reorient ourselves and understand, no, that is home. And we cry over what we're missing over the fact that we're not there. We have to make that adjustment. And an adjustment like that, a reorientation about where we really are, about what home is, that necessarily comes with tears. It's not something which is done simply. You can't expect an entire world to turn their home, the place of their anchor, inside out. Rav Uri Zohar was a hero of the spirit, a person who, as we can only imagine, with copious tears and with difficulty, completely turned and transformed the roots of his connection. He had to stop. He had to stop being fed by the satisfaction of the feedback of the masses which is so strong and so addictive, and instead turn inward. Inward to Torah, to the Maharsha, to a life which was clear and visible, a life of working on himself, on making himself, working on himself, on making himself a more patient person, a more nurturing person, a more kind person. It's a complete, a complete turnaround and something which is so instructive, such an incredible incredible example that he provided. It's not just the story of wow, a movie star that put on a yarmulka. It's about that kind of redirection of our lives, from pursuing satisfaction elsewhere, to understanding where our home is, to understanding what we have to be anchored in, a pursuit of a true and internal world of Torah, of middos tovos, of good character, of building that which is really really substantive, that which is really important. And that which is ultimately connected to Hakadosh Baruch Hu. May his inspiring example help us to reorient ourselves to understand where our true home, the home of ourselves, the home of our spirit, truly is. Yehi zichro baruch. Thank you very much Rabbi Hauer for inspiring us with the story of the life and identity crisis which was resolved by a very very great and interesting man, Rabbi Uri Zohar of blessed memory. Going to continue now with ten great men whose death, the death of any one of them, was a great shock and a great tragedy to the Jewish people and a great loss and in many ways comparable if not in some ways worse than the destruction of the Bais Hamikdash. So we turn now to Kinah number 21, Arzei Halevanon Adirei Hatorah, it's on page 415 in the Kinot Mesoret Harav. This recites a story, a story of a persecution and a story of ten assassinations and a little bit about each of the ten victims. We will focus especially on the stanza which deals with the personage and the fate of Rabbi Akiva. But it begins, Arzei Halevanon adirei hatorah. Cedars of Lebanon, which is a metaphor for great great people. Cedars of Lebanon. Adirei Hatorah, masters of the Torah. Baalei serisisin b'Mishneh uv'Gemara. They were all shield-bearers of the Mishneh and the Gemara. Giborei koach amaleha betaharah. They were powerful heroes, toiling in purity. Damam nishpach kamayim venashesah gevurah. You could read along with me. Their blood is spilled like water and their strength is sapped. Hinam kedoshei harugei malchus asarah. They are the ten holy ones, the ten martyrs, martyred by the kingdom, martyred by the occupation, in contemporary terms. Ve'al eilah ani bochiyah, for them I cry ve'eini nigrah, and my eyes flow with tears. Zos bezachri, when I remember this, ezak ze'akah gedolah umarah, I cry a great and bitter cry. Chemdas Yisroel, Israel's delight, klei hakodesh, holy vessels, neizer ve'atarah, a wreath and a crown. Tehorei lev, pure of heart, kodshei kodoshim, holiest of holy, shechitasan bemisah chamurah. Slaughtered in horrible death. Yadu goral, they cast lots, mi rishon l'cherev berurah, to determine who will be first to be chosen for the sword. Kinefol goral al Rabi Shimon, when the lot fell upon Raban Shimon, that's Rabbi Shimon ben Gamliel, poshat tzavaro uvachah kenigzerah gezeirah. He stretched his neck and cried, accepting the decree. L'Raban Shimon chozar hahegmon lehargo benefesh netzurah. The executioner turned to Rabbi Shimon, Raban Shimon ben Gamliel, killing him with pent-up fury. Mizera Aharon sho'al bevakashah livkos al ben hagevirah. The descendant of Aharon, that's Rabbi Yishmael, who was a Kohen Gadol, a descendant of Aharon Hakohein, begged to be allowed to grieve for the prince. The prince was Raban Shimon ben Gamliel, he was a Nasi b'Yisroel. So the zera Aharon, Rabbi Yishmael, begged to be allowed to grieve for Rabbi Shimon. Notal es rosho unesano al arkevosav, menorah hatehorah. He, that's Rabbi Yishmael, the Kohein, took the skull of Raban Shimon ben Gamliel, and placed the skull upon his knees, as if it were a pure menorah. How's that for a sight to imagine in your mind's eye? Rabbi Yishmael the Kohein, sitting with the skull of the prince of the Jews, of Raban Shimon ben Gamliel, as if he was holding a menorah in his lap. Sam einav al einav, he placed his eyes upon his eyes, uphiv al piv, and his mouth upon his mouth, be'ahavah gemurah, with sincere love. Anah ve'amar, he proclaimed, peh hamisgaber b'Torah, a mouth vigorous with Torah, pisom niknesah alav misah meshuneh vachamurah, suddenly condemned to a horrible and freakish death. Just imagine the scene, it's so important to be able to visualize this. A man is decapitated. Decapitated. And Rabbi Yishmael the Kohein, took the dead head of his companion, placed it face to face, eyes to eyes and mouth to mouth, and said, this is the mouth of Torah that is now in front of my mouth. Silenced forever. Tzivah lehafshit es rosho hamelech besa'ar hasechirah. The pralyat, meaning the prince or the governor, the Roman governor, ordered to flay his head with a sharpened razor, to flay Rabbi Yishmael's head. Kiyam be'oro amru lenafshech shechi vena'avorah. He fulfilled with his skin the saying, get down that we may walk over you. Rasha haposheit, the villain did the flaying, eis higia limkom Tefillin mitzvah barah, and as he reached, he was flaying the skin, the skull of the head of Rabbi Shimon ben Gamliel, and he reached the place of the special commandment of Tefillin, Rabbi Yishmael, it's Rabbi Yishmael who is now being killed and whose skin is being flayed, and Rabbi Yishmael let out a scream, causing the world to shake and the earth to tremble. Shima tze'akah venizdazah olam ve'eretz hisporarah. This Rabbi Yishmael shrieking as his skin is being flayed, his skin upon which he daily placed his Tefillin, on his head. Taamod zechuso ledoros, kol Adonoy behadarah, his merit will stand for all generations, said the voice of G-d in His glory. There was a heavenly voice who said, this martyr, this victim, will be remembered forever. Me'acharav heiviu es Rabbi Akiva. Afterwards they brought Rabbi Akiva. Oker harim vetochanan zeh bazeh b'sevarah. Rabbi Akiva was the uprooter of mountains, who ground one against the other with his intellect. Such a powerful intellect that the metaphor of his intellect is taking one mountain and another mountain and smashing them together. That was his intellectual acumen, his intellectual skill. Es besaro mesarkin, they combed his flesh with an iron comb to break it. Bemasrek habarzel lehishtabrah. In other words, they firmly implanted this iron comb upon his skin as they raked down his body. Yatzesah nishmaso b'echad. His soul departed as he died with the word One, Shema Yisroel, Hashem Elokeinu, Hashem Echad, at that word, echad, his soul departed. And a heavenly voice said, ubas kol amrah, Rabbi Akiva, ashrecha, gufcha tahor bechol minei taharah. Rabbi Akiva, you are fortunate. Your body is pure in every manner of purity. Ben bava Rabbi Yehuda acharav heivi'u. Rabbi Yehuda the son of Bava, they brought in with a broken heart and a warning. Beshivron lev ve'azharah. Neherag ben shivim shanah bidei resha'ah arurah. He was killed at age seventy by the cursed evil kingdom. Yoshev besaanis hayah, naki vechosid bimlachto lemaheira. He fasted frequently. He was clean and pious and diligent in his work. Chananya ben Tradyon acharav, makhil kehilos betzion sharah, after him was Rabbi Chananya ben Tradyon, assembler of great crowds at Zion's gate, with his Torah lectures. Yoshev vedoresh, he sat and he taught, vesefer Torah imo, a Torah scroll at his side, imo, vehikifuhu bechavilei zemorah. They enveloped him with bundles of twigs. Es ha'ur heitzisu bahem, they set them afire, ucherachuhu besefer Torah uvo'aru vo have'arah. They winded the Torah scroll around him and lighting a bonfire. Lelibo sefogin shel tzemer hinichu shelo yamus meheirah, they attached moistened bits of wool to his heart to prolong his agony. So you have the sadism, along with a brutal murder. The sadism of torturing a person, putting him afire, but surrounding his body with a Sefer Torah and with moistened bits of wool to slow the process so that he would suffer that much longer. Chasid Rabbi Yeshevav hasofer haraguhu am amorah. The pious Rabbi Yeshevav the scribe, was killed by the nation of Gemorah. Zerakuhu vehishlichuhu laklavim, velo hukbar bekvurah. They cast him and threw him to the dogs, so that he was never properly buried. Kol bas yotza alav shelo hiniach klum mitoras Moshe leshamrah, a heavenly voice declared that there was nothing in the Torah of Moshe that he did not observe. Es Rabbi Chanina ben Chachinai ve'acharav Rabbi Chutzpis beyom evrah. Rabbi Chanina ben Chachinai and after him Rabbi Chutzpis, on that wrathful day. Veyad of haporeiach bahavel piv nisraf k'vmerurah. Birds flying overhead were singed as if torched by the breath of his mouth. Tzadik Rabbi Elazar ben Shamua ba'acharonah neherag bemadkeirah. The righteous Rabbi Elazar ben Shamua was killed with a chisel, yom erev Shabbos hayah zman kidush, vayekadesh vayikra, it was the Shabbos evening, the time for kiddush, and as he recited it, cherev shalfu alav, they drew the sword upon him velo hinichuhu bachaim lesayeim ulegamrah. They did not permit him to live to finish reciting kiddush. Yatzesah nishmaso bevara Elokim yotzer vetzar tzurah. His soul departed at the words Bevara Elokim, when G-d created. The Creator and the Sculptor of forms, the connection again. So many ways of the Torah to each of these tzadikim, one was wrapped in parchment of the Torah and burned alive. Another was killed at the very moment that he recited kiddush. Rabbi Akiva, of course, was killed as he was saying Krias Shema and uttered the word Echad. And then the conclusion of this powerful powerful Kinah, Hineh kaheinah vecha'heinah, alright, these are ten. But on and on, these villains tortured and threatened, hosifu bnei avlah le'anos begearah, beskilah, sereifah, hereg, vechenek mi yuchal lesha'arah. Stoning, burning, killing, choking, who can assess this calamity. Noseres mimena yochlu arayos seh fezurah. Of the remnants, lions consumed these scattered sheep. Yochluha bemakom kadosh kechatas vech'asham la'abeid zichrom. They were eaten in a sacred place, like the suffering and guilt offerings, leaving no trace. Chazei hatenufah veshok haterumah torfu aryeh vehakefirah, the special offerings, lion and cub devoured. Yitav be einei Hashem velo yosif od le'asrah. May it be good in the eyes of the L-rd to never again punish us. Ameitz birkayim koshlos. Make firm the tottering knees. Cheilek Yaakov, Yaakov's portion, umoshia be'eis tzarah. Deliverer in troubled times. Letzedek yimloch melech, veshalmu yemei evlech, le'oro nisa venelech. The king shall reign in righteousness, your days of mourning shall cease, by His light we shall journey forward. Ten tzadikim, that's ten times the destruction of the Temple. And one of them somehow always stood out to me above the others. And maybe stood up to history as the prominent, the most prominent of these ten. In fact, Rabbi Akiva is referred to often in Chazal and the Rishonim as Rosh Lachachomim, the chief, among all the wise men, Rabbi Akiva is most prominent. There's much to say about Rabbi Akiva. In many ways he was compared to Moshe. And in fact, in some ways he was found to be superior to Moshe, hard as that might be to hear. I'd like to reflect a little bit upon Rabbi Akiva's qualities. One of his most outstanding qualities is this. Rabbi Akiva said, amar Rabbi Akiva zeh klal gadol baTorah, ve'ahavta lerei'acha kamocha. Rabbi Akiva is the one who said that this is a major klal, a major rule in all of the Torah. Ve'ahavta lerei'acha kamocha. Love your brother, love your fellow man, fellow person, as you love yourself. Ve'ahavta lerei'acha kamocha. Three words in the Torah, Parshas Kedoshim, Rabbi Akiva said that's the klal gadol. The Sefer Hachinuch, the author of the Sefer Hachinuch puts it this way. Klomar, what does Rabbi Akiva mean, that's the klal gadol baTorah, ve'ahavta lerei'acha kamocha? It's the great klal because like any other rule, it has many sub-rules. One major rule can have many many ramifications and consequences. Harbeh mitzvos shebatorah tluyim bekach. Many mitzvos in the Torah are really offshoots of loving your neighbor as you love yourself. Visiting the sick, burying the dead, attending a wedding and rejoicing along with a bride and a groom, these are all ways that you fulfill ve'ahavta lerei'acha kamocha. And furthermore, writes the Sefer Hachinuch, sheha'oheiv chaveiro kenafsho lo yignav mamono. If you love your fellow, if you love your friend as yourselves you're not going to steal his property. Velo yena'eif es ishto, and you're not going to commit adultery with his wife. Velo yoneihu bemamon, you're not going to cheat him in business, velo bedevorim, and you're not going to cheat him and deceive him with your words. Velo yasig gevulo. You're not going to take over his property, you're not going to intrude upon his turf. Lo yazik lo meshum tzad. You're not going to harm him in any way. Vechein kamah mitzvos acheiros teluyos bazeh. So many many other mitzvos are dependent upon this, love your fellow as yourself. Love the other person as you love yourself. Yadua hadavar lechol ben daas, the author of the Sefer Hachinuch says, any ben daas, anybody with a brain in his head understands that this is what ve'ahavta lerei'acha kamocha is all about. Ramban, whom I introduced to you earlier in this program, Rabbi Moshe ben Nachman, wrote an extremely important commentary on the entire Chumash, on the entire five Chumashim. I would say perhaps most people would agree with me some might not, but if there's one commentary after Rashi himself, it's the commentary of Ramban. When he comes to this pasuk, V'ahavta lerei'acha kamocha, here's what Ramban says. Haflagah, this is an exaggeration. How can you love someone else like you love yourself? You love yourself more than you love anyone else. You love yourself. To love someone else, a stranger, the same way as you love yourself, that's a haflagah, that's going too far, Ramban said, that's an exaggeration. Ki lo yekabel lev ha'adam, a person cannot possibly accept sheye'ehov es chaveiro ke'ahavaso es nafsho. To love the other guy, the other person, to the same extent that you love yourself. It's just impossible. Lo yekabel lev ha'adam, he writes. Ve'od, besides which, Rabbi Akiva once said something very different. Shekvar ba Rabbi Akiva velimeid chayecha kodmin lechayei chaverecha. Famously, the Gemara in Bava Metzia daf samech beis tells a story, tells the opinion of Rabbi Akiva. Two people are in the desert, one of them has a container, and canteen of water. And the other one does not. And they're both going to die of thirst if they don't drink, but one person has enough to survive and the other person will die. And you are holding the canteen. What do you do? Do you split it with him and you both die? Because there's not enough water for two people. Or do you keep the water for yourself and the other guy. Or do you give it to the other guy and you die. So Rabbi Akiva says, chayecha kodmin lechayei chaverecha. You come first. Keep the water for yourself. What can you do? So Ramban is asking the question here, if Rabbi Akiva could say that, how can he also say that ve'ahavta lerei'acha kamocha zeh klal gadol baTorah? If you're supposed to love the other guy like you love yourself, you should give him the water, or split the water. What do you mean, you keep the water for yourself so that you survive and he will die? The Ramban says, you must say that this is an exaggeration. The Ramban's term is haflagah, it's going too far to say ve'ahavta lerei'acha kamocha. But this is a powerful question that the Ramban is posing and the Ramban has no way to answer it except to say it's an exaggeration. Obviously there are situations in life where you're number one, you come first, and the other person, what could you do, helpless, can't do anything about it. There are such situations. I have a wonderful sefer that I recommend, it's listed in your bibliography, in the booklet that's posted now on the website, contains an extensive bibliography of the sources that I built most of what I'm saying upon, the sefer is entitled Rabbi Akiva Vedoro shel Shmad, and it's by, the author is Harav Zvi Infeld. It's published by Mosad Harav Kook. It's full of all sorts of powerful insights. And he says that sometimes a question is the answer. A question is the answer. Yes, this is an exaggeration. But Rabbi Akiva felt that you have to live a life of exaggeration. Ve'ahavta lerei'acha kamocha. There are desperate moments when you, you know, it's a raging war a burning desert, etcetera, and you can't help the other person. But the ideal situation in life is to help the other person as much as you help yourself. Ve'ahavta lerei'acha kamocha. Love your fellow as yourself. Same thing. Kamocha, like you, no difference. And Rabbi Akiva was an idealist, he lived and imagined an ideal world. He lived in an ideal world. And he lived in an ideal world in the here and now. Rabbi Akiva believed, and we say Ani Maamin be'emunah sheleimah, that I believe that Moshiach will come, today, tomorrow, immediately. He really believed that. And he believed in a man whose name was Bar Kochva, a military leader of the Jewish people. He believed that he could be Moshiach. He could be the Moshiach. Today, in the lifetime of Rabbi Akiva, now, now, now, now Ve'ahavta lerei'acha kamocha. Perhaps there are urgent times, desperate times, when chayecha kodmin, it's not an exaggeration. We live by this exaggerated claim, this exaggerated demand upon us, of ve'ahavta lerei'acha kamocha. This is Rabbi Akiva. This is the rosh lachachomim. There's much more that can be said of course about Rabbi Akiva, but we will leave that for now. As I would like to introduce to you our next guest, our final guest of the four, Rabbi Hillel Tendler, an old friend of mine from my Baltimore days, still a resident and prominent community leader in Baltimore, who will pay tribute to his father, Rav Moshe Tendler, zecher tzadik levrachah. Rabbi Tendler, it's all yours. Thank you Rabbi Weinreb for the introduction and beautiful recollections of adoni, avi, mori ve'abi, hareinu kaporas mishkavo. My father and you shared a very special relationship. I recall his address at the dinner tendered by Baltimore's Congregation Shomrei Emunah in your and your Rebbetzin's honor on the occasion of your bar mitzvah year as the mara d'asra. My father, using the Braisa of the forty-eight maalos haTorah in the sixth perek of Pirkei Avos, spoke of your ability to unify diverse individuals into one kehillah, to grow together in the service of Hashem. Your trail-blazing Tisha B'av kinnos program is one expression of that ability. If we do not merit by next Tisha B'av to hear Yirmiyahu Hanavi himself expound the reasons Tisha B'av is a true Yom Tov, may you continue to teach all of us how to grow in galus. As we know, while the text of the Kinnos themselves lament the destruction of the Bais Hamikdash and Yerushalayim, and our banishment into galus, our mourning on Tisha B'av is for the overall break in our relationship with our heavenly Father. That is why, even with the amazing brachah from Hashem of having Yerushalayim and all of Eretz Yisroel being rebuilt before our eyes, we are still in galus, even in Eretz Yisroel, until Hashem takes us back to His house, the third Bais Hamikdash, sheyibaneh bekarov. But during these almost two millenia of galus, we as a nation have grown and thrived due to the great teachers and leaders Hashem has planted among us throughout history. And when those great lights leave us, our galus deepens and darkens. I believe that is why Rabbi Weinreb devotes a portion of his Kinnos presentation each year to the leaders who we lost since the last time we've sat on the floor mourning the churban. I thank Rabbi Weinreb for inviting me to share some thoughts on one of those great lights, my father, Rabbi Dr. Moshe Dovid Tendler zatzal, hareinu kaparas mishkavo. My father was born in 1926 and raised in what he fondly referred to as the small European shtetl called the Lower East Side. For his elementary and most of high school years he absorbed the foundations of Torah not only of his great parents, Hagaon Rav Yitzchok Isaac and Rebbetzin Bella Tendler zecher tzadikim levrachah, who with their Torah and chesed together influenced countless individuals and families, but also of the great Rebbeim and atmosphere of Yeshivas Rabeinu Yaakov Yosef, known as RJJ. In my father's last high school year, my Zaidy Isaac wanted my father to learn at the feet of one of the great ilium and geonim who had emigrated to New York from Europe by then. Rav Moshe Aharon Poleyev zatzal, and my father began what was to become a more than seven decade oneness with Yeshivas Rabeinu Yitzchok Elchonon, or RIETS, and the Yeshiva University which spawned from RIETS. Following high school, my father stayed in the yeshiva for two sedarim a day, learning from its great Rebbeim, including seven years in the shiur of one of his two primary Rebbeim, besides his own father, Maran Hagaon Rav Yosef Dov Soloveitchek zatzal, while earning his Bachelors and Masters degrees at NYU. During that period, my father married my mother aleha hashalom, and his father-in-law, my Zaidy Maran Hagaon Rav Moshe Feinstein zatzal became my father's other primary Rebbe. While my father's Torah studies were of paramount importance to his parents, my grandparents wanted my father to pursue a secular degree as well. My father was naturally drawn to the life sciences because he realized that so much of understanding Torah and how it directs us in the rapidly changing world of the twentieth century requires the understanding of Hashem's natural world. It is a fundamental principle of our faith that the G-d who created and directs every minute detail of nature is the same G-d who gave us the Torah, and answering a question in Jewish law whether in medicine, Shabbos, agriculture, marital issues, beginning of life, end of life, and everything in between, requires an understanding of science. Certainly no reputable posek would pasken any question without understanding the underlying issues. But my father's drive to fulfill the dictum Veyodata es Hashem, knowing Hashem, drove him to strive to learn all he could about Hashem's world. My father would often refer to the Gemara in Chulin where in discussing the statements in the Torah in Parshas Shemini about which animals exhibit only one kosher sign, the Gemara states, shalet be'olamo yodei'a The giver of the Torah can only be the sovereign creator with absolute knowledge of the creation He made. My father's life mission was to teach the world the achdus of Hashem. The singular unity of Hashem as the Giver of natural law and Torah law. That mission drove him to teach dvar Hashem not only for almost seventy years at Y.U. and more than fifty years from the pulpit of his beloved shul, Community Synagogue of Monsey, but also in hundreds of lectures on every continent, to all branches of the U.S. armed forces and to the countless Rabbonim and doctors who had my father's number on speed dial. My father's undergraduate degrees were in biology and his PhD from Columbia was in microbiology. During all those years of obtaining his advanced degrees, my father never left yeshiva. And his diligence in earning his degrees was only surpassed by his diligence, his hasmadah in Torah. While in graduate school, my parents were married. My father was first appointed a Rebbe in MTA, Y.U.'s boys high school, and after a few years moved over to be a Rebbe in RIETS. My father earned his PhD the year I was born and my older siblings recall during the years where my father worked on his thesis, how they would sometimes wake in the morning to find my father asleep over a pile of seforim on the kitchen table as he prepared for shiur. After my father earned his PhD, Dr. Belkin zatzal gave my father an afternoon job as well, as an instructor, then a professor in Y.U.'s biology department, which eventually he would go on to chair for several decades. As the son-in-law of the posek hador, Rav Moshe came to rely on my father for understanding the scientific or medical backgrounds of some of the most complex areas of life, where my grandfather issued guidance and rulings. Although my father is not chassidish, he approached every mitzvah with joy. Like his great rebbe, Rav Yoshe Ber, my father was cholas ahavah, love-struck with Hashem. Whether preparing for Shabbos, growing, nursing and picking his own aravos, baking matzos, supervising the writing of Tefillin for his and his members' sons and grandsons, Tefillin, rolling his own Chanukah wicks, and anything to do with limud haTorah, like his all-night Shavuos shiurim, my father, who did not waste a minute, had all the time in the world to immerse in preparation for and doing Hashem's mitzvos with joy. Being a proud eved Hashem means doing what needs to be done with joy, to fulfill each mitzvah to the greatest extent possible. My father was a brilliant darshan. He learned from Rav Yoshe Ber that the Medrash Raba is the greatest commentary on the Torah. My father developed timeless messages from the words of the medrash. He was also a complete Ish Emes. His immense and broad knowledge of both halachah and science sometimes led him to conclusions in halachah different than other contemporary poskim. My father based his major piskei halachah like time of death on Rav Moshe's halachic decisions and sometimes he was the public voice on a halachic position which was contrary to the views of other major poskim, including poskim for the wonderful uniting organization sponsoring this webcast. For example, on how to establish the kashrus of ocean caught tuna. Each psak issued by my father was based on a detailed understanding of the facts and the areas of halachah which formed the facts. And if what results is not the accepted norm, so be it. My father often quoted the Medrash Raba in Parshas Naso about the colors of the flags of each shevet during the forty years we spent in the midbar. The flag of Levi was a tri-color, tzavua shlish lavan ushlish shachor ushlish adom. One third white, one third black and one third red. Shevet Levi was the Yoru mishpatecha l'Yaakov, the repository and teachers of Torah. Torah is absolute emes. And absolute truth is not fuzzy or gray. It is black and white and sometimes needs to be dramatically red. Let the spear pierce the mountain, halachah is absolute. My father was not competing in a popularity contest, he was just seeking the absolute truth of dvar Hashem, the word of Hashem. Every minute of my father's ninety-five years was one of learning or teaching Torah and understanding of Hashem's ways which to my father was all Torah. He gave shiur in RIETS and taught bioethics in Y.U. until five months before his petirah. In the years he was engaged in cancer research, leading to the discovery of an early drug that was found to be helpful in certain cancers, he used lab mice. Hashem created the ability to experiment to help mankind and fulfill the dictum Verapo yerapei, a doctor is charged to heal. So lab mice are a proper subjects of experimentation. Yet everyone in his shul knew that in cleaning up from seudah shlishis all half eaten challah must be given to the Rabbi to feed the birds and other creatures in his backyard, which he would sometimes soak in water to make softer for the baby birds. And then point out to his grandchildren who would be visiting, the different species of birds and animals enjoying the feast, and sometimes explain why Hashem endowed a particular species with a particular skill. Whether it was helping a cat in distress deliver her kittens, or rescuing a newborn raccoon whose mother was run over by a car, my father felt the obligation to have mercy on all of Hashem's creatures, while using the opportunity to teach everyone within earshot relevant teachings of Chazal, halachos, and what's behind his actions. But his greatest acts of chesed were reserved for the countless individuals and couples he helped. Growing up in my parents' home, we were used to the phone ringing into all hours of the night with complex medical, fertility and end of life questions, as my father was the central address for hundreds of rabbonim and thousands of individuals, many he never met. Time and time again individuals or couples whose only connection to my father was hearing him lecture in some far-flung place, or reading an article he wrote, would call to seek guidance, only to be invited to our Monsey home, or my father's Y.U. office, where he would spend hours guiding them, speaking to physicians and comforting their anxieties. Since my father's petirah, my siblings and I heard from people all over the world how my father assisted them. My father did not have a spare minute, yet found limitless time to help a Jew in need. Besides the medical advice and his ability to speak directly with the doctors in their own language. My father would always temper or accompany the guidance with a lesson in bitachon and tefilah. With all the respect my father had for medical professionals, every yeshuah only comes from Hashem. My father was adamant so often that just because the doctors said a couple will never have a child, or an expectant mother must abort a pregnancy, or a talmid's mother has only three months to live, is no reason to despair. Medical science is part of the nature Hashem created, and the very same Hashem Who instilled the natural law which doctors had interpreted as bringing about a negative result, is the One who will allow the couple to be parents, a healthy baby to be born to a healthy mother, and the elderly parent yet to dance at her granddaughter's wedding. My father was extremely grateful for but never surprised when the phone call came weeks or months later telling my father that indeed, the miracle had happened. My father would often speak of the famous statement of Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa, in the Gemara Taanis, to his daughter, when she accidentally used vinegar instead of oil to prepare the Shabbos candles. Mi she'amar leshemen veyidlok hu yomar lechometz veyidlok. Oil's combustibility is only a function of Hashem's will being expressed. So His will can just as easily make vinegar burn. Despite the doctor's dire prognosis, the result is only up to Hashem. We will never know how many babies were born healthy and lives extended because of my father's advice and encouragement. My father loved and yearned for Eretz Yisroel, and the Three Weeks and Tisha B'av was a time of deep aveilus. Exactly one year ago, last Tisha B'av, as we mourned our exile from Hashem's house, my father was taken by ambulance from his house and we were not zocheh to have him return prior to his petirah ten weeks later. My father did not create a new path; he merely followed the path of gedolim of earlier generations, in fulfilling what the Mesilas Yeshorim admonishes us to do understand chovas ha'adam be'olamo. He used his brilliant intellect and huge heart to understand Hashem's Torah in a world and guide thousands as they navigated their way through the world. We are immensely grateful to the Ribono shel Olam for the zechus of having him for ninety-five years, and our galus has grown darker with his passing. May we be zocheh soon to the geulah sheleimah. So far in our journey through Jewish history we've covered a long time. We've covered the Jews who cried in the desert because they were too cowardly to imagine fighting a strong enemy and lacked the faith to do so, that's going back a long ways, back even before that to the identity crisis that Moshe Rabeinu faced, Vayifen ko vacho, and we went then through the years to Yoshiyahu, to the destruction of the first and second Temples, to the period of the Ramban, the thirteenth century, there we touched upon the Crusades and their impact upon the Jews of the world, but especially the Jews of central and western Europe, to the Holocaust, which we've already introduced you to two tzadikim of the Holocaust, one the now famous Piaseczno Rebbe, and the other the much less famous Reb Yirmiyahu Kalish of Opala. Two of course of the six million. But there are various periods of time that we did not discuss, and for that I'm going to give you, the audience, a little homework, some suggested readings. I'm going to suggest two books. One by a man named Malcolm Hay called Europe and the Jews, in which he traces the history of the Jewish people in Europe from the first Jews to arrive in Europe and he speculates as to when, how far back in history that goes, a thousand years or so, through various times, good and bad, through various stages of terrible persecution, and he documents and describes all of these centuries of time and he concludes with the Holocaust and some post Holocaust reflections. Another book, besides Malcom Hay's Europe and the Jews is this book, written by a Catholic priest, who in his studies, his name is Edward Flannery, in his studies he began to realize what his church which he believed in and remained a priest of the Catholic church till his death, but he wrote about anti-Semitism historically and especially in Europe, mostly in central and western Europe. In Poland as well. What is today Ukraine as well. The title of this book is The Anguish of the Jews. It's gone through several editions, it's been updated, and I recommend the latest edition to you, The Anguish of the Jews, twenty-three centuries of anti-Semitism, revised and updated, by Edward Flannery, published by Paulist Press. Paulist Press is a Jesuit press, so it's a book written by a Christian, published by a Christian publishing house, and describing the relationship, the strain, the difficult relationship of Christians and Jews throughout the centuries, hopefully that's improved a great deal in our time. I want to return to the Holocaust, not because we can treat it comprehensively and even adequately, but to just mention one aspect of the Holocaust that's extremely important and often overlooked. There are many books and sifrei kodesh that I could have turned to, but this is one that's easy to get and easy to read, it's hard to read, but it's easy to obtain and reading it is important. And it's called The Holocaust and Halachah, it's written by a man named Irving Rosenbaum, and again, all these books are referred to in the bibliography in your booklet that's available online. The Holocaust and Halachah begins with the reflections of the author as to how did those Jews who did survive, how did they survive? And he's not talking about physical survival. He's talking about spiritual, religious survival. How did they survive? And he writes that people often say, and I've read this in many books by great men, men whom I admire, great women as well, Lucy Davidowitz is one of the great historians of the Holocaust, she seems to take this approach too, and it is something, goes something like this. The Holocaust was unprecedented. Yes, there were pogroms there was suffering persecutions, etcetera. But gas chambers, and torture and death pits and drownings of thousands of people etcetera, millions in the end, six million maybe more, that's unprecedented. Which makes the question of how the Jews cope all that much more magnified. There's no precedent for this. The author here argues that there were many precedents for it. Maybe not six million, so there was six thousand or sixty thousand, etcetera. Over the centuries. But there's something which kept us alive through it all. And that is what we call Halachah. The questions that one asks of sages of the Talmud, sages of halachah, who can tell us what to do in times of great extreme tragedy. Obviously the daily halachos that we all try to keep, that's for daily times in peaceful or even relatively peaceful times, here's what you've got to do, here's how much charity you should give, here's how you had to pray, here's what you do in the synagogue, here's when you wear tallis and Tefillin, here's what's kosher food, etcetera etcetera. But there's also a halachah in times of dire crisis. And there are halachah responsa going back centuries, if not millennia, to how does one behave in times of extreme crisis. Rambam, Maimonides, wrote letters, epistles they're called, igarot, letters, to various communities who were in crisis. He wrote a fascinating work called Igeret Teiman, the Jews of Teiman, Yemen, in the Rambam's time we're talking twelfth century, they were suffering all sorts of persecution, etcetera, in their case at the hands of Islam, and he wrote a letter from where he lived in Cairo, near Cairo, in Egypt, to Yemen, it's a long trip, then and even now, and he sent a letter to them to encourage them, to teach them how to react, how to cope religiously with all the challenges that they were facing. And this was certainly true in the time of the Holocaust too, and what Rosenbaum undertook in this work is a brief summary, it's a short book, just kind of covers the roshei prakim, it's about a hundred and fifty pages total, but he writes examples of how the halachah was enacted and followed as a guideline in the Holocaust. He gives many many examples of this, I want to mention a man named Rabbi Oshry whom I was privileged to meet, I can't say that I knew him. He was a survivor of the Kovno ghetto in Lithuania and he made his way to the United States and he was a rabbi in the Lower East Side of Manhattan, and he wrote a series of books, actually it's five volumes, it was gifted to me by Rabbi Amrom Taub zichrono livrachah, who was a rabbi in Baltimore, who was a mechutan of Rabbi Oshry. One of Rabbi Taub's daughters married one of Rabbi Oshry's sons. And Rabbi Oshry has a lot to say. The name of his series of books is called Mimaamakim, From the Depths. I refer that book to you in its various forms. There are English translations of parts of it anthologies of what he wrote, etcetera, and some of what he wrote is explained in this book by Rabbi Rosenbaum. But I'd like to refer to another story that he tells, and when I say story I don't mean, you know, it's a story a fable, a legend. It's a piece of history. And this is of a man who I also met once, saw once, I can't even say I met him, he was called the Veitzener Rov, the Rov of Veitzen, a town somewhere in Poland, and he tells this story in a book that he wrote called Mekadshei Hashem. His name was Rabbi Meisels, he survived the Holocaust and became a rabbi in Chicago, and some of you may have known him or his family, and he tells the story of the time, the first days that he arrived in Auschwitz. Late, late, late in the terrible history of that terrible place called Auschwitz. And he was faced with the following situation. The Nazis were, needed a group of young strong boys, teenagers, Jewish teenagers to do some kind of labor. But they only needed like fifty such boys. And of course, all the boys and their parents if they had parents still in that scene of Auschwitz, were eager to be in this labor force because they knew that they'd be alive. They may have to work hard but they'd get some food and some type of sustenance, so they wanted to join it. But the Nazis said no. We just need fifty. The rest of you we'll kill. The rest of you go to the gas chambers, to Birkenau. So obviously, each one of the boys wanted to be one of the fifty. However, one of the fathers had two sons. There were forty-nine slots filled, and one vacancy. Which son does he try to get into the one that would be hopefully saved? And he came to Rabbi Meisels with that question. Which son? An impossible question, obviously. Another father said, I have enough money hidden on me, I have some jewelry or whatever, that I could bribe the Nazi guard to include my son in the fifty. But if I do so, that means someone else's son is not going to make it into the fifty. Can I buy my way for my son to be saved knowing full well that somebody else's son, another young man, is going to be consumed in the furnaces in the crematoria of Birkenau. What do I do, Rabbi? And he came to Rabbi Meisels with this question. Rabbi Meisels refused to answer him. He said, I can't answer such a question. Here I have no books to consult, I have no other rabbis with whom to confer, and you're coming to me in such a situation, I cannot respond, I cannot take the responsibility to respond. So the man said, but you must respond, I need an answer. You're a rabbi. I heard of your reputation. You must come up with a halachic answer, I'm turning to the halachah. Rabbi Meisels said, I just can't. I can't tell you what to do. So the man said to Rabbi Meisels, and Rosenbaum describes this beautifully, although Rabbi Meisels himself in the first person tells this story in his book Mekadshei Hashem, and the man said, look. I'm a pious Jew. I know what I have to do. I have to ask a shailah. I have to ask a question of a rabbi. I did that. I did my duty. That much I know. And I know something else. If it was permissible for me to do so, you would tell me. But you refuse to tell me. I have to assume that I have to leave things as they are. I'm not going to bribe the Nazi knowing that my son will be taking the place of another boy and another boy would be incinerated, literally. So I'm just going to leave things as they are. Rabbi Meisels tells this story, what can I do? What else could I do? What could I say? Can I tell him to save your son, automatically killing? Rabbi Meisels considers it from various halachic angles, is it certain that if his son goes no, one will be killed in his stead? Yes, it is certain. We're dealing with Auschwitz, we're dealing with Nazi murderers. They mean what they say, they say what they mean. They say if you're not one of the fifty you're going to the furnaces. So it's certain death for someone. How can I make a death sentence. How can I say anything one way or the other? And the man did not "redeem" his son and what happened happened. This is just one story from the Holocaust which is necessary to ponder and to think about, the role of halachah, the way people, many people, many of the six million, and the ones who survived, went through similar experiences with dilemmas and problems and halachic questions that they turned to halachic decisors to answer for them, sometimes there was an answer. Often there could be no answer. The situation was so horrible that who can answer it, mi lonu gadol, who is great enough to answer these kinds of questions. And I thought I'd mention that because that's a type of heroism that isn't sufficiently appreciated. We appreciate the heroes who resisted and rebelled in the Warsaw Ghetto and in other places. of the names of victims of terror in Israel in the past year. And also of soldiers who died in the line of duty, soldiers or policemen or sailors or air pilots etcetera, We admire all types of history and all types of heroism. But the heroism of the halachah, of the obedience to halachah and the willingness of rabbis and others to put their conscience on the line and to decide these heart wrenching questions is a heroism in and of itself. I want to at this time draw your attention before we move to the conclusion to the booklet which is posted on the website. And in there you will find a page or two of the names of victims of terror in Israel in the past year. And also of soldiers who died in the line of duty, soldiers or policemen or sailors or air pilots etcetera, who died in the line of duty in this past year alone in defense of the State of Israel. You look at those pages, you will see the respect and the awe and the grief that we have over the death of these heroes, sometimes they were willingly heroes, they died in battle, and sometimes they were just people who were kidnapped and shot and killed or run over by cars in all sorts of terror attacks, and the names of all those of whom we have a record given to us by the Israeli government of the victims of terror since Tisha B'av 2021 until Tisha B'av 2022. At this time, at the end of the morning, as we begin the afternoon, it's after chatzos, depending upon where you are in the world when you're watching this, and it's minchah time, and it's time, as the Rama says in the Shulchan Aruch, it's time for a little nechamah. It's time to end on a high note, on a note of hope, of optimism. Let's do that and let me talk about one of the areas, one of the sacraments, let's say, which we can use even today without a Bais Hamikdash and even without the various tzadikim whom we've lost over the centuries and whom we've lost in very recent times. And that is the power of tefilah. The power of prayer and especially a prayer in the Beit Knesset, prayer in shul, in a minyan, with other Jews. I want just to share with you a random selection of statements about how the Bais Hamikdash has a substitute which is available to us. Yes we mourn the loss of two holy Temples and we pray and look forward to the reconstruction of a third holy Temple in Yerushalayim, but until that time we have the following resources available. Although Reb Elazar says in the Gemara in Maseches Brachos, miyom shechorev Bais Hamikdash, from the day that the Temple was destroyed, nifsekah chomas barzel bein Yisroel l'Avihem shebashomayim, there is an iron wall between us and our Father in heaven. Yes. However, the Gemara also says, it's a medrash Tehilim, and Chazal say, kol mi shehu mispallel b'Yerushalayim, whoever is fortunate enough to be in Yerushalayim at this moment in time, I know some of you in the audience are in Yerushalayim at this moment, if you're in Yerushalayim, ke'ilu mispallel lifnei kisei hakavod, it's as if you're davening, praying, before the throne of G-d's Glory. Sheshar hashomayim hu shom, the gates of heaven are in Yerushalayim. Upesach pasuach lishmo'a tefilah, as the pasuk says, vezeh shar hashomayim. You have an open gate to Heaven. But there's also a Gemara which says, and this too is paraphrased in the medrash, Devorim Raba, amar Rav Anan, af shaarei tefilah einam ninalim le'olam. The gates of prayer are never closed. Dichsiv, k'Hashem Elokeinu bechol koreinu eilav, whenever we call to G-d, wherever, whenever, our prayers are heard. And, Reb Yehoshua ben Levi says, the Gemara in Pesachim daf peh heh amud beis, afilu mechitzah shel barzel einah mafsekes bein Yisroel l'Avihem shebashomayim. Even an iron barrier, an iron wall, does not separate between us and our Father in heaven. Amar Rav Yitzchok, achshav ein lanu lo navi, we have no prophet, lo kohein, we have no high priest, lo korban, no sacrifice, lo mikdash, no temple, lo mizbeiach, no altar, mi mechaper aleinu. Who then, this is a Medrash Tanchuma, who then forgives us? Af al pi shechorav Bais Hamikdash lo nishta'er beyadeinu ela tefilah zu. What we have is the siddur, what we have is the prayer book, and that's the substitute for all that we've lost. Where is G-d? Where is G-d, in the absence of the Temple? And as the poet asks in that paitan, the Ladino paitan, Borei ad ana, until when? Where are you? We feel abandoned, we feel, as Rabeinu Yonah said that You are an achzari chas veshalom, that You are a cruel G-d. No. G-d is to be found in shul. In the Bais Knesses, in the Bais Medrash. Rabbi Avahu says, Dirshu Hashem behimatzo, seek G-d when He is to be found, eichan hu matzoi? Where is He to be found? Bevatei keneisiyos ubevatei midrashos. He is to be found in the shul and in the Bais Medrash. Kera'uhu behiyoso karov, eichan hu karov, bevatei keneisiyos ubevatei midrashos. A Yerushalmi in Maseches Brachos perek heh. To continue with a few more, and there's one beautiful image I'd like to share with you about the relevance of the, presence, rather, of the Shechinah, of G-d's Shechinah, of G-d's indwelling in our own time. Minayin sheHakadosh Baruch Hu matzoi bevais haknesses shene'emar Elokim nitzav ba'adas Kel, uminayin le'asarah mispallelim sheShechinah imahem ten people are praying the Shechinah is there, Elokim nitzav ba'adas El, a Gemara in Brachos daf vav. And not only that, but amar Hakadosh Baruch Hu, da she'atah mekabel pnei Shechinah, even in the Batei Kneisiyos sheb'Bavel. As the Gemara says in Megilah daf chaf tes. And you might wonder if G-d is to be found in this shul and in that shul, it's a children's question, how could G-d be all over, at the same time? Listen to this. This is a Shir Hashirim Rabah and a Bamidbar Rabah. The Medrash says these words, it's just fascinating, imagine the picture. The pasuk says in Shir Hashirim, Kol dodi hinei zeh bah, the voice of my lover is coming, approaching, medaleg al heharim, he's skipping over the mountains, mekapetz al hagevaot, he's jumping over the hills, domeh dodi l'tzvi, my lover is like a gazelle, le'ofer ha'ayalim, he's like a hind, a graceful deer, Hakadosh Baruch Hu, this is G-d, He's jumping over the hills, He's jumping over the mountains, Hakadosh Baruch Hu mekapetz miBais Knesses zeh l'Bais Knesses zeh. G-d is jumping from this Beit Knesset, from this synagogue, from this shul, to that shul. Imagine G-d, G-d is not a creature, He's not a form, He's not a being. But somehow, He's jumping from shul to shul just to be able to be there for us kedai levarech es Yisroel. In order to bless the Jewish people. This is a hopeful note about the power of tefilah. Along those lines I want to share with you just a brief quote from Rav Dessler. Rav Eliyahu Dessler was a fascinating person, the author of the sefer Michtav M'Eliyahu, he escaped the Holocaust, he avoided the Holocaust by moving to England, to Great Britain, I guess it was in the 1930's and he survived, eventually made his way to Eretz Yisroel, he became the mashgiach ruchani in Ponovezh Yeshiva and he says as follows. Chazal tell us, this was already quoted, Miyom shechorev Bais Hamikdash ninalu shaarei tefilah. When the Bais Hamikdash was destroyed, the gates of prayer were closed. But shaarei dema'os, the gates of tears was not closed. Writes Rav Dessler, bechinas shaar sagur hu timtum halev. What does it mean, the gates are closed? There's gates of heaven? What does that mean? There are gates there? No. We don't believe in physical heaven in the sense of gates. No gates. The gates are in our heart. The gates are mental, emotional gates in ourselves. The gate, the closed gate means our heart is just not open sufficiently. She'achar churban Bais Hamikdash, with the loss of the Temple, nisavek kol kach, the heart has become so thickened, so resistant, she'i efshar levaka, you can't pierce it. And you can't get close to G-d. That's what the Gemara says in various places, such a concept. However, Chazal said that there's something that can soften your heart. Aval b'tefilah amukah ad kedei dema'ot, with a deep deep sincere prayer which brings to tears, tears are just the litmus test of true sincere prayer, then you can break that stuffed heart. Ul'hiskarev el Hashem. Shaar zeh lo ninal me'olam. That gate never gets closed. That's the gate of tears. I must share with you something about tears, because we started off this entire talk, the entire program with the tears that our people shed when the spies came back from Eretz Yisroel and said we're, there's giants there, there's fortified cities there, we can't get in, we can't get in. And everyone started to cry and shed tears. But those, as the Gemara says, that was a bechiyah shel chinam, that were tears in vain. So I once heard from Rav Biderman, Rav Elimelech Biderman, who's a sage, may he be well, now in Eretz Yisroel, who often shares his wondrous gems, so he said he heard the Imrei Emes, the Gerrer Rebbe, the second Gerrer Rebbe, the grandfather of the current Gerrer Rebbe, the Imrei Emes, Rav Avrohom Mordechai, he used to say, look what happened. Tears of three thousand years ago, tears in vain, tears with no reason to cry, led to bechiyah ledorot, to generations, to millennia of tears. So he says, imagine, a simcha shel chinam. Imagine smiling, laughing, rejoicing, for no good reason. You're just happy to be alive and you're celebrating. That's going to lead to a simcha shel dorot. If you can remain faithful and you can remain trusting in G-d to the extent of living b'simcha, ivdu es Hashem b'simcha, simcha can bring generations of simcha. A parent who is happy will have happy children. A parent who is b'simcha will have happy grandchildren, and great grandchildren, and dorot. It could be a simchas ledorot. I once heard a thought from Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach, zecher tzadik levrachah. There's a prayer Ana Bekoach which can be found in the siddurim before Lecha Dodi. And it's a prayer to G-d, and the prayer ends with these words. Shavaseinu kabel, ushema tzaakaseinu, yodeia taalumos. That means, shavaseinu kabel, G-d, receive our cries, our shouts, our shava, shin-vav-ayin-heh. Ushema tzaakaseinu, and hear our screams. Yodeia taalumos, You who know the secrets. There's two questions there. Once He receives our screams, why does He have to hear our shouts? I mean, we know G-d can hear, what is the double lashon here? Shavaseinu kabel, shema tzaakaseinu. And if we're shouting, shavaseinu, tzaakaseinu, we're shouting, why do we praise G-d for being yodei'a taalumos, He knows the secrets of our hearts? So Rav Shlomo Zalman said, I can just close my eyes and remember him saying this to a group, and he said, sometimes you cry out to G-d and you cry out out loud. But as much as you cry out loud, there's something inside of you that's still unexpressed. He hears those cries too. Shavaseinu kabel, G-d, receive, okay You received my verbally expressed, physically expressed words of prayer. Fine. But there's something yet inside of me, as bad as I feel, as terrified as I am, as worried as I am, as aggrieved as I am, as pained as I am, as bereft as I am, there's still something inside I couldn't express even to G-d. G-d hears those prayer too, because yodei'a taalumos, He knows the hidden prayers of the heart. The hidden prayers of the heart which we ourselves don't recognize. We ourselves don't understand some of the pain inside of us that we can't express, but G-d can hear those shouts as well. Shomei'a tzaakaseinu, yodei'a taalumos. But when we speak about prayer, we got a problem. The problem is that unfortunately hopefully not in any of the synagogues in which you, the audience, prays, but in many synagogues, let's face it and be honest, truth is always very important. Not always is the decorum in shul what it's supposed to be. Not always. Often people speak when they shouldn't speak in synagogue, perhaps you shouldn't speak at all in a synagogue except for prayer. There is such an opinion. And often, when we do speak we speak about nonsense at best, the weather, sports, the latest movie we saw, whatever, or sometimes we even speak things which are prohibited speech. We speak gossip, malicious gossip, and we do it in shul. The rabbi's speech was good, it was not good, it was better yesterday, look over there, look at this window, it should be opened, it should be closed, the thermostat should be raised, should be lowered. All sorts of distractions and all sorts of unnecessary speech. At best, sichah beteilah. Idle talk. And this is a problem that we have faced for many many centuries, many many centuries. There's one person who lived through a terrible time in history which we didn't address directly today, and that was the Gezeiros Tach v'Tat, 1648, 1649, a group of Cossacks came from what is today Russia, invaded Poland, this was because of a war, and a rebellion, Poland against Russia, whatever, it had nothing to do with the Jews, but often when the battle is between two forces and the Jews want to stay neutral, you can't stay neutral. And the wrath is sometimes poured out upon Jews, that's the nature of anti-Semitism, and this leader of the Cossaks, a man named Bogdan Chmielnicki, came into various towns in Poland and just wiped out whole towns, whole populations. This is called the Gezeiros Tach, Tach is the year 1648, and Tat is the year 1649. And to this day we mourn, although we have no Kinah in the Kinos, not in the Kinos that we printed, there are lamentations written, among them by the author of the sefer Tosfos Yom Tov, which I'm told should be correctly pronounced Tosefet Yom Tov, not Tosfos Yom Tov but ordinarily we refer to the sefer as Tosfos Yom Tov, the author of Tosfos Yom Tov was a man named Rabbi Yom Tov Lipman Heller, that was his name, the family name was Heller. He was a rabbi in Prague in the earlier sixteen hundreds, later died in Krakow where he's buried, to this day people go to his grave. So he composed a prayer. I think, if we come to conclusion, reciting this prayer and internalizing the lesson of this prayer would be very very important. This is a, if you look in your booklet you will find this page, which is just entitled in Hebrew, in bold letters, Mi Sheberach. He suggested that this prayer should be recited every Shabbos by Krias Hatorah. We make a Mi Sheberach for our family when we get an aliyah, we make a Mi Sheberach for the Chayalei Tzva Haganah L'Yisroel, for the soldiers of Israel, the Israel Defense Forces, me may make a Mi Sheberach for some sick person that we know. He said we should make this Mi Sheberach, a Mi Sheberach that G-d bless all those who are quiet in shul. I've summarized it in just a few words, but let's look at the text. There are variations on this text, this is one that was published by the Kaliver Rebbe zecher tzadik levrachah, and you can even have a telephone number in Bnei Brak where you can call to get copies of the prayer. Some siddurim do have this prayer and some don't, but it's worthwhile contemplating the prayer and its message. You notice that under the words Mi Sheberach, the title, He who praised, there's a little note, oso hiskinu lomar Baal Hatosfos Yom Tov zechuso yagein aleinu. The author of the sefer on Mishnayos, a commentary on Mishnayos, called Tosefet Yom Tov, he wrote this, Eikev, in the heels of the gezeiros b'shnos Tach v'Tat, the terrible decrees, the terrible pogroms of 1648 and 1649, eikev michshol hadibur b'shaas hatefilah. Because he felt that the punishment, the reason why we suffered so in those two horrible years was because we didn't keep, we weren't quiet in shul. It's said that he said, if you take out dibur, dibur, speech, it's supposed to be holy speech, prayerful speech, at least in synagogue, take out the yud and the vav, which are the letters of G-d's Name, take them out of dibur, and you have dever. Dever is a plague. But the point is that he saw in this misbehavior of ours, of all of ours, all of us, we're all guilty of this to some extent or another, and we must improve that, and if it's good in your shul, it's got to be better still. It's got to be total decorum in shul. And so we say this, we can say it now together, even on Tisha B'av, mi sheberach avoseinu Avrohom Yitzchok v'Yaakov Moshe v'Aharon Dovid uShlomo, and I would add, Sara Rivka Rachel v'Leah, hu yevarech es kol mi sheshomer piv uleshono shelo ledaber be'eis hatefilah. May the G-d of Abraham Isaac and Jacob, Moses and Aron, David and Solomon, Sara, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah, may He bless all those who guard their mouths and their tongues not to speak at the time of prayer. Hakadosh Baruch Hu yishmereihu mikol tzarah vetzukah umikol nega umachlah. May G-d protect him or her from every type of pain and suffering and difficulty and illness, veyachulu alav kol habrachos hakesuvos besefer Toras Moshe Rabeinu vechol sifrei haneviim hakesuvim. How's that for a blessing? May the person who is quiet in shul and respectful in shul, may he be blessed with all the blessings that are contained in the entire Torah of Moshe Rabeinu and in the works of all the Neviim and all the Kesuvim. That's a lot of brachos. Veyizkeh liros banim and may he be privileged to see children, chayim, live children, vekayamin, healthy children, veyegadlem l'Torah ul'chupah ul'maasim tovim, and may he or she be privileged to raise them for Torah, for eventual marriage, for good deeds, v'yaavod es Hashem Elokeinu tamid, may he be privileged and healthy enough to worship the L-rd our G-d forever, be'emes ub'samim, with truth and innocence, truth and sincerity, venomar Amein. And let us say Amein. This is a, I think a good way to conclude, to say that, yes yes yes, the Bais Hamikdash is lost, tzadikim are lost, we suffered a lot, we've lost a lot, but one thing we do have for certain is the capacity to pray and the way to pray is by speaking prayer and prayer alone in the Bais Haknesses. There are times where all kinds of speech is permissible, even praiseworthy, but that's outside the shul, not in the shul. In past years I've usually ended, concluded with some type of song. In the Kinah of course you have the Eli Tzion, which is not a song of joy, it's still a Kinah, but it's usually sung to a tune, which is kind of soothing. Eli Tzion ve'areha, etcetera. What I'd like to do today is to conclude with other songs. And to invoke, if I may, the memory of my grandfather. Not my grandfather but my wife Chavie's grandfather. So if he's your wife's grandfather he's your grandfather, right. Ishto kegufo. Our grandfather, Chavie's paternal grandfather, her father's father, was the Modzitzer Rebbe, the second Modzitzer Rebbe in the Modzitzer dynasty, the Rebbe now in Eretz Yisroel is the fifth in that dynasty. But the second in that dynasty was Chavie's grandfather whose name was Rav Shaul Yedidiah Elazar Taub zecher tzadik levrachah. He was, besides being a Chassidic leader, and a strong ohev tzion, a religious Zionist in the full sense of the term, believing in Eretz Yisroel and Medinas Yisroel in every possible way. He was also of course an astounding Chassidic scholar, but he was also a master master musician. He composed literally thousands of compositions, some long intricate nigunim and some short popular nigunim, as did his father before him, and as his descendants continue to this very day to compose music. Because he prayed musically. His father used to say, in heaven, in the kabbalistic heaven, the mystical heaven, there are two chambers adjacent to one another. There's the chamber of prayer and the chamber of song. Heichal hatefilah and heichal haneginah. So Chavie's grandfather's father, her great grandfather Rav Yisroel Taub, he used to say, well, it is said that up there there are two chambers adjacent to one another. Prayer and song. I say it's not two chambers. It's one chamber. Prayer. Song for prayer. Prayer that's sung with a nigun, with a tune, an appropriate tune. A mournful tune when that's called for, a joyous tune when that's called for. But it's one heichal. It's one chamber. One of his compositions was popularized more recently, he wrote it sometime probably in the 1940's, bad times, and it's from the zemer which we sing for zemiros for Friday night, Kah Ribon Olam. And the words are Perok yas anach, G-d, rescue Your sheep, Your flock, mipur mayevasa, from the mouth of the lion. Ve'apek yas amech migoy galusa. Rescue Your nation from the galus, from the exile. And it goes like this. This is the way I heard it sung by R' Benzion Shenker zichrono levrachah, who was a master of this musical corpus of Modzitz. Perok yas anach mipur mayevasa ve'apek yas amech apek yas amech migo galusa. Amech amech di vechart mikol umaya amech amech di vechart mikol umaya. The second stanza translates as Redeem Your nation, the nation whom You have chosen from other nations. But that was a song of prayer. A song of pleading, asking G-d, prok yas anach, rescue, redeem the sheep, the flock. But he also wrote many many many joyous tunes which are also appropriate at this time. There are two nigunim which can be sung as one, to the words we say in the Shemoneh Esrei on Yom Tov, Pesach, Shavuos, Succos, we pray for B'nei baischa kevatchilah, rebuild the Bais Hamikdash as it once was. B'nei baischa kevatchilah. And another prayer, Vehavi'einu letzion ircha, bring us back to Tzion, Your city. And they are happier tunes and it's a good note on which to end. B'nei vaischa b'nei vaischa, b'nei vaischa, vaischa kevatchilah. Vechonen mikdashcha, vechonen mikdashcha vechonen mikdashcha al mechono. Followed by, Vehavi'einu letzion ircha letzion ircha berinah, v'liYerushalayim bais mikdashcha, bais mikdashcha besimchas olam. Vehavi'einu letzion ircha letzion ircha berinah, v'liYerushalayim bais mikdashcha, bais mikdashcha besimchas olam. So we've surveyed a broad swath of Jewish history, going from a time of bechiyah shel chinam, of tears in vain, culminating in hope and im yirtzeh Hashem, culminating in the zechus, kol hamisabel al Yerushalayim, all those who mourn for the destroyed Jerusalem, zocheh ve'roeh besimchasah, will be privileged to see the joy of the rebuilding and the return to Tzion v'Yerushalayim. Thank you for listening and hopefully next Tisha B'av we'll be able to rejoice and sing together as one, besimcha shel chinam, besimcha shel geulah. Thank you.