Shavuot 5770

Israel! Israel!

The festival of Shavuot is the yahrtzeit (anniversary of the passing) of Rabbi Israel Baal Shem Tov, founder of the Chassidic movement, who was born 300 years ago on the 18th of Elul, 5458 (1698).

An old Chassidic manuscript describes Rabbi Israel’s birth as G-d calling the name of His people. When a person loses consciousness, one of the things that is done in the effort to revive him is to call him by his name. The unconscious person might be deaf to all other sounds and words, but the sound of his own name—a sound relating to his very identity—will penetrate to the pith of his soul and rouse it to life.

Three hundred years ago, the Jewish people where in a state of faintness and stupor. The devastating pogroms of 1648-9, in which hundreds of thousands of Jews were massacred and more than 300 Jewish communities were utterly destroyed, and the havoc and disillusionment wreaked by the false messianism of Shabbetai Tzvi in the 1660s, had left the people of Israel broken in body and shattered in spirit.

To revive the spirit of Israel, G-d called out the name of His people. A soul called “Israel” was sent to the world to rouse the identity of Israel and breathe love and joy into Jewish life.

White Instead of Black

When Rav Raphael of Barshad, zt”l, first began to search for the ideal way to serve Hashem, he heard that learning the Zohar Hakadosh was a great segulah for attaining fear of heaven. He therefore began learning a great deal of Zohar. After learning through the whole Zohar, he started the Zohar Chadash. Towards the end of the Zohar Chadash, there is a warning against being like Bil’am, who was a complete fool despite his great knowledge of serving Hashem.
Rav Raphael said to himself, “If one can know so much and still be a fool, perhaps I should focus instead on the Shulchan Aruch so that my study will bring me to ma’aseh.”
He started learning the Shulchan Aruch in depth, but when he got to Orach Chaim #231, “All of one’s acts should be for the sake of heaven,” he again felt that something was missing.
“Are all of my actions really l’shem shomayim? Perhaps I should spend more time on mussar?” he wondered. Rav Rafael therefore added study of the Shelah HaKadosh to his schedule.
He was so immersed in the Shelah that he would learn it at every opportunity. He would even take it with him when waking the townsfolk for davening so that he would not waste a single minute. But after a while he again felt as if something was missing. So he traveled to the famous Rav Pinchas of Koretz, zt”l, for advice.
Rav Rafael poured out his heart. “I want to serve Hashem in truth, but everything I have tried has been insufficient!” He was so distressed that he actually fainted.
When he came to, Rav Pinchas said, “If you stay with me, you will come to truth.”
Three years later, Rav Rafael dreamed that he was playing cards. Although his hand started out with black cards, they all turned white in the end. When he shared his dream with Rav Pinchas, he was given a powerful interpretation.
“Your dream is like the gemara in Beitzah 10b, about one who designated black birds and found white ones instead. When you first came to me, you were blackened with worry and chumros, and this prevented you from serving Hashem in truth. But now you are white with virtue and purity!”

The Importance of a Minyan

Rav Yaakov of Amshinov, zt”l, worked to fulfill the mitzvah of pidyon shevuyim. Once, he returned home at an inordinately late hour. It was so late that when he sought a minyan to daven Maariv, it was hard to find anyone who still hadn’t prayed.
Completely nonplussed, the Rebbe ordered his gabbai to go to the local hangout. Any Jews in there would likely not have davened maariv—perhaps not for many long weeks or months! Sure enough the gabbai found several Jews there whom he convinced to complete the minynan. Most of them were so divorced from Yiddishkeit that the gabbai had to provide some kind of head covering so that they could join the minyan.
When the Admor of Amshinov from America, zt”l, told this story he would conclude. “Our sages teach that the Divine presence rests with ten Jews. Even if they are completely wicked, if they join a minyan to daven, the Shechinah rests upon them.”

The Light That Changed a Life

The wife of the great Chassidic master the Chozeh (Seer) of Lublin looked at the tall gleaming candlesticks that sat on the table and began to cry.


All Friday morning, as she baked the challah and prepared the chulent stew, she had forced herself to stay cheerful. All afternoon, as she scrubbed and polished until the entire house sparkled, she had done battle with her yetzer hara (evil inclination) and remained in an optimistic frame of mind. But now, as the shadows began to lengthen in the room and there was no more work to take her thoughts off the problem at hand, she could feel her spirits sinking.


The beautiful candlesticks, which usually brought her much joy, seemed to be pointing an accusing finger in her direction every time she looked at them. Where are our Shabbos candles, she could almost hear them ask. Why don't we have candles to greet the Shabbos Queen?


What could she answer? Despite her many prayers, help had not come. There had been no money in the drawer that morning to buy candles for Shabbos and now, just a few minutes before it was time to light the candles, there was still no money - and no candles to light.


The Chozeh's wife's gaze shifted anxiously from the candlesticks to the darkening sky. Soon the sun would finish its slow descent and disappear beyond the horizon. Soon the Shabbos lights would begin to flicker in the windows of all the Jewish homes in Lublin. All, that is, except one.


The thought of her home being in darkness on Shabbos pierced her heart like a dagger. As the minutes passed, her distress became so great that the house could no longer contain her pain. She flung the door open and rushed out into the street and began to cry.


"Ribbono Shel Olam, Master of the Universe," she pleaded, "if I have done something to deserve punishment, I accept Your rebuke with love. But please don't make my husband and our distinguished guests sit in darkness because of my transgression. Please hear my prayer and let there be light in my house on Shabbos."


Just at that moment a fine carriage drawn by four black horses turned on to the little street. Inside the carriage sat a man - a Jew who had long ago drifted away from a life of Torah observance. For him the setting sun did not herald the approach of the holy day. Instead, he was on his way to a house of entertainment, where he would squander the precious hours in drinking and playing cards and other frivolous amusements.


Yet despite the fact that the man didn't observance the mitzvos, he did have a good heart. When he saw a poor woman crying in the street, he ordered his driver to stop so he could see what was the matter.


"I can see by your fine carriage and clothes that you are a wealthy man," said the wife of the Chozeh. "If you could spare two pennies..."


The man did not even wait for her to finish her request. He quickly reached into his coat pocket and placed the two pennies in her hand.


"Thank you," she said with deep gratitude. "You have just now done a tremendous deed, and I bless you that the light of Heaven should shine into your heart forever."


The Jew rode off in his fine carriage, while the Chozeh's wife rushed to the candle maker to make her purchase. Then she raced back to her home and, with just a few minutes to spare, she lit her candles for Shabbos. As she watched the gaily dancing flames fill her home with light, she brushed away a tear - one of the tears of joy that were now flowing freely from her eyes.


In the meantime, her husband, the Chozeh, was in shul, where his soul was also gaily dancing in expectation of greeting the Shabbos Queen. As he uttered the beloved words of the Kabbalos Shabbos prayer service, his soul soared higher and higher. Then, much to his amazement, he saw something he had never seen before on Shabbos.


The Heavenly Tribunal was in an uproar, and when the Chozeh's soul entered the courtroom all turned and pointed an accusing finger in his direction.


"Isn't it bad enough," one of the judges demanded, "that you bless all sorts of unworthy people and we have to fulfill your words? Now your wife is following in your footsteps and doing the same! Just look at who she wants us to give the light of Heaven to!"


The Chozeh looked down and saw the Jew seated in his carriage. The Chozeh could also see that the man's thoughts were far away from holy matters. It certainly appeared to be true that this particular Jew was an inappropriate vessel to receive such a precious gift. On the other hand, if his wife had seen some hidden spark within the man, who was he to argue?


"You are right," the Chozeh told the Heavenly Tribunal. "At this moment, the man is unworthy. But can't we give him a chance? Shine the light of Heaven into his heart for one half hour, and let's see what happens. If he continues with his present way of life, you may take the light away. If he changes, however, you will do as my wife requested and shine this light into his heart forever."


The Heavenly Tribunal agreed to the Chozeh's suggestion, and the light began to shine into the Jew's heart.


At first the man just felt a quick twinge of discomfort, which was just as quickly dispelled by settling back into his cushioned seat. Then the feeling came back and he was beginning to feel positively strange. He tried to keep his thoughts on cards and dice, but his mind kept drifting back to the strange encounter that had occurred earlier in the evening.


As he recalled the narrow street and the woman who had stood crying outside, the whole scene now seemed to be infused with a bright mysterious light. And what was more, that light was also shining in his carriage. The light was even filling up his mind and overpowering his vision, until he could see nothing but this pure, white light.


He put his hands over his eyes to try to block out the light, but the light was inside him. He pulled aside the curtain in his carriage, but the light was outside, too, and it was illuminating the night sky. Everywhere he looked, it was the same. The whole world was filled with light - and so was he.


"I must be going crazy," he said to himself.


And then it struck him.


"No, now I'm not crazy," he continued. "Before, I was crazy! Wasting my life with gambling and drinking - that was crazy. But now…"


But now, what? The Jew was filled with a tremendous longing to change. But how to do it? He was so far away that he knew no one who could help him. Then the memory of that strange encounter came back, and he knew what he had to do.


The man called out to his driver to turn the horses around. The horses seemed to be guided by some inner light, because they flew over the cobblestone streets. When the carriage arrived at the spot where he had stopped to give the woman the two pennies, the man quickly jumped down and strode up to the house.


Before he knocked on the door, however, the man looked through the window. Inside he could see the Chozeh and his guests - all dressed in their special Shabbos clothes - seated around the Shabbos table.


The last of the thirty minutes were ticking away, and the light that had been shining inside him so brightly was beginning to fade. The man felt a queer sensation, as if he was slowly awakening from a dream.


"What am I doing?" the man whispered to himself. "I can't be like them. This is crazy."


He stood outside not knowing what to do. Should he go inside or return to his carriage?


He was just about to go back into the night when the beautiful candlesticks of the Chozeh's wife caught his eye. As the Jew looked at the two lights glowing from the Shabbos candles, he knew that what he had just experienced wasn't a dream. Here, standing in front of him, was the source of the light that had shined so brightly inside him.


Without further hesitation, the man entered the Chozeh's home. He became a devoted chassid of the Chozeh, and with time he became a leading light of his generation.

Counting the Hours

"Do not be satisfied with the speech of your lips and the thought in your heart, all the promises and good sayings in your mouth, and all the good thoughts in your heart; rather you must arise and do!" The Kotzker Rebbe






During the month of Iyar, we count the days of the Omer - the seven-week period in between Pesach and Shavuot. The following story is also about counting the days, and why we should count each day with joy.


Although the Chozeh (Seer) of Lublin, Rabbi Yaakov Yitzchak, left a vast spiritual legacy to his family and followers, when he passed away he had very few worldly possessions to bequeath. To his son, Reb Yosef of Torchin, the Chozeh left his Shabbat clothes, his belt and a clock that had always hung in his study. And with these few but cherished possessions packed away in his bag, the bereaved son left Lublin to return home.


Reb Yosef had rented a horse and open wagon and his journey should not have taken long. But when he was just reached the mid-point, the heavens opened wide and sent a torrential downpour of rain crashing down below. Not only was Reb Yosef quickly drenched to the bone, but within minutes the dirt road was transformed into a swirling river of mud.


Although the horse struggled to pull the wagon forward, the wheels remained firmly entrenched in the bog. To make matters worse, the day was nearing its end and what little light there was now was quickly fading. Yet even so, Reb Yosef did not despair.


"There must be somewhere that I can take shelter," he reassured himself. And indeed, the moment he began to look, his efforts were rewarded.


In the distance, he could see a small village. He jumped down from his seat and began to push the wagon from behind. After an hour of this hard work, Reb Yosef finally arrived at a small house that lay on the outskirts of the village. The house belonged to a Jewish couple, and they agreed to allow Reb Yosef to stay with them.


The rain continued to pour down for three days and nights. When the skies had finally cleared and the road was once again safe to travel on, Reb Yosef made his preparations to leave.


"It's been our pleasure to have you stay with us," the villager said to Reb Yosef, "but as you can see, we are not wealthy people."


Reb Yosef understood from these words that the villager expected to be paid for the lodgings he had provided. As he didn't have a single coin in his pocket, Reb Yosef knew that he had no choice except to part with one of the treasured gifts he had received from his father.


"I have no money," Reb Yosef replied, "but I do have a few sacred possessions that belonged to a great tzaddik. Perhaps you will except one of them as payment."


Reb Yosef carefully placed each object on the table for the villager and his wife to inspect.


"We can't use the clothes," the wife said, "and the belt is also of no use. I suppose we will have to accept the clock. We can at least use it to let us know when it is time to milk the cows."


Now that the debt was settled, Reb Yosef was able to resume his journey. Many years passed and another chassid was now traveling down that same dirt road.


As the hour was late, Reb Yissachar Dov, the Sava Kaddisha (Holy Grandfather) of Radoshitz, knocked at the door of the Jewish couple and asked for lodgings for the night. The villager agreed, and led his guest to a small room. On the wall hung the clock that had once belonged to the Chozeh.


Reb Yissachar Dov was exhausted from his journey, but he found it impossible to sleep. Every time he tried to doze off, the ticking of the clock chased any thought of sleep away. Although normally this would be exasperating, for some reason Reb Yissachar Dov didn't mind. In fact, as the clock ticked away, he could feel his heart becoming filled with joy. Soon he had jumped out of bed and was dancing happily about the room. He sang and danced throughout the entire night, and he stopped only when he could see that the day was breaking through the dark.


The villager had heard it all, and of course he was quite curious to know why his guest had not slept and why he was so happy. The tzaddik had his own question for his host.


"Where did you get this clock?" Reb Yissachar Dov asked.


"I received it many years ago," the villager replied, "from some poor traveler who couldn't pay for his room."


The Sava Kaddisha smiled.


"I knew it," the tzaddik said. "This is the clock that once belonged to my master, the Chozeh of Lublin. It's sound is different than any other clock in the world."


As the villager was looking puzzled, Reb Yissachar Dov continued with his explanation.


"You see, most clocks remind their owners that they are one hour closer to death," Reb Yissachar Dov began, "and so their ticking gives off a melancholy sound. But the clock of the Chozeh of Lublin is different.


"This clock tells us that we are one hour closer to the coming of Mashiach and the Final Redemption," Reb Yissachar Dov continued. "When I heard this clock's exultant ticking, I was so happy that I simply had to get up and dance."

"If you believe that you can damage, then believe that you can fix.

If you believe that you can harm, then believe that you can heal."
- Rebbe Nachman
of Breslov

Rosh Chodesh Iyar

The name Iyar is an acronym for the words: "I am God, Your healer" (Exodus 15:26). Therefore this month is a time of healing - and in particular inner healing.


Judaism tells us that when we are sick, we should make every effort to find a good doctor or alternative healer. However as King David reminds us, in our search to find a cure, we should never forget Who is really the One Who heals us.


The following chassidic story gives us a similar message.


There was once a man who was desperately ill. He visited dozens of doctors, but none of them could help him. Out of desperation, the man went to visit the tzaddik Reb Mordechai of Neshchiz.


Reb Mordechai listened sympathetically to the sick man's tale, and when the man finished speaking the rebbe wrote out his "prescription."


"Go to Hanipoli," Reb Mordechai advised, "and seek out the professor of that town. He will cure you."


Traveling to Hanipoli in those days (and even today) was no small matter. No trains went that deep into the Ukraine, and so the chassid had to hire a wagon and driver. The wagon bumped and jiggled its way down the long and dusty road, and the poor chassid was totally exhausted by the time he arrived.


However, he was anxious to find this professor - in those days a medical doctor was also called by this title - and so as soon as he found a place to lodge he set out to find where the professor lived.


"What professor?" the innkeeper said in rely to the chassid's question. "Hanipoli doesn’t have any professor."


"Perhaps you refer to him as a doctor," the chassid persisted. "Where does the doctor of Hanipoli live?"


"We don't have any doctors, either," the innkeeper firmly replied.


The chassid refused to be deterred. He asked storekeepers and laborers and anyone he could find - but everyone gave him the same reply.


The chassid was totally confused and disappointed. How could Reb Mordechai have sent him on such a wild goose chase? The sick man rented another wagon and driver and set out on the long, arduous journey back home.


When he arrived in Neshchiz, the chassid went straight to the rebbe and told him what had happened.


"There's no professor in Hanipoli?" Reb Mordechai asked in apparent surprise. "Then tell me, what do the people there do if one of them, God forbid, becomes ill?"


"Do? What can they do?" the chassid replied. "I suppose all they can do is trust in God and ask Him to heal them."


"That's him!" Reb Mordechai exclaimed. "That's the professor of Hanipoli that I was talking about! If He can heal the townspeople of Hanipoli, then surely He can heal you, too."


When the chassid left the rebbe's room, he immediately began to pour out his heart to God. As he prayed he could feel a little bit of his health returning to him, and eventually he was completely cured

Baking Challah the shabbos after Pesach

There is a minhag to bake shlissel challah (shlissel means key in Yiddish) for the Shabbos after Pesach. Shlisel challos are best known as a segula for parnasa, though there are other reasons for it, as we will soon see. Some bake the challah with an actual key inside, some make the challah in the shape of a key and some put sesame seeds on top in the form of a key. There are those who make the challah flat to look like matzos. We will discuss this later on. The Ohev Yisroel says about shlisel challah that “the minhagim of our fathers are most definitely Torah”. There are many reasons given for this minhag of baking shlissel challah; we will go through some of them. (Some of the items written below can also be found in Taamei Minhagim, Nitei Gavriel, Sefer Hatoda’a and Minhag Yisroel Torah)

First of all, the second mishna in Rosh Hashanah says on Pesach we are judged on the grains, parnasa. Rabbeinu Nissim asks if we are judged on Rosh Hashana then how are we judged on Pesach? He answers that on Pesach it is determined how much grain there will be in the coming year for the world, but on Rosh Hashana it is decided how much of that grain each individual receives. The Meiri, however, says that on Rosh Hashana it is decided if one will live or die, suffer or not and other such things, but on Pesach is when we are judged on the grains. Based on this there are customs in Sephardic communities to do things Motzei Pesach as a sign that we want Hashem to give us livelihood. In Aram Soba (Syria) and Turkey they put wheat kernels in all four corners of the house on Motzei Pesach as a sign of prosperity for the coming year. (Moed L’kol Chai -R’ Chaim Palagi, Beis Habichira). From a mishna we already see that there is a connection between Pesach and parnasa.

Reasons for Shlissel Challa

1).In Shir Hashirim (which we read on Pesach) it says פִּתְחִי-לִי אֲחֹתִי רַעְיָתִי - “Open for Me, My sister, My beloved". Chazal say that Hashem asks us to open up for Him a small whole like the tip of a needle and He will open up a huge hole for us. Also, Klal Yisroel is called a bride and they are called the bechina (aspect) of bread. During Pesach all the upper gates and minds are open and after Pesach they close and we need to open them. Therefore, we put a key in the challah after Pesach to hint at us opening a small “hole”, through the mitzvah of Shabbos (and, if I might add, the mitzvah of challah) and now Hashem should open up all His good from his storehouses and the heavens like He gave the mon to our fathers in the month of Iyar, and this Shabbos we bless the month of Iyar.

2) After Pesach is when the mon stopped falling and we brought the Omer. From then on we needed to eat from the produce of the ground; we needed parnasa, since untill now we had the mon. It is known that everything has a gate. Therefore just as we daven to Hashem to open up the gates of parnasa we have a minhag to put the form of a key on the challos to allude that Hashem should open up the gates of parnasa for us.

3) During sefira we count 49 days till Shavuos, the 50th day, which is the shaarei bina. We go from gate to gate, and each gate has a key. That is why we make an image of a key on the challah.

4) It says in Shir Hashirim 1:11 תּוֹרֵי זָהָב נַעֲשֶׂה לָּךְ עִם נְקֻדּוֹת הַכָּסֶף - "We will make for you circlets of gold with spots of silver." By the Mishkan it says זהב וכסף ונחשת, putting zahav (gold) before kesef (silver). In Bereishis, by the creation of the world, the first day it says Yehi ohr which is chesed (which is represented by silver) and the second day represents gevurah, which in turn represents gold. The reason is that by the creation of the world it was pure chesed, as it says “the world was built on chesed” (Tehilim 89,3), therefore chesed, which is representative of kesef, precedes gevurah, which is representative of zahav. By the Mishkan, however, Hashem had to, so-to-speak, contract (tzimtzum) the Shechina (Divine Presence) to dwell in it, and tzimtzum is from the aspect of gevurah, therefore zahav precedes kesef by the Mishkan. However, the zahav written there has the nekudah (vowel sound) of a פַתַּח (it has a patach instead of the usual kometz), it says זְהַב הַתְּנוּפָה (Shemos 38,24), and that is the nekuda of chesed –the nekuda of chochma. And פתח (the vowel) also means opening like פתח ושער- from there comes all the kindness. Putting it all together, this that we say in Shir Hashirim תּוֹרֵי זָהָב נַעֲשֶׂה לָּךְ עִם נְקֻדּוֹת הַכָּסֶף means the Mishkan was made with zahav, the aspect of tzimtzum, but with the nekuda of kesef, meaning the (word “zahav”, instead of having the usual vowel, kometz, is written with the) nekuda of patach, which is chesed. And the Shabbos after Pesach is always in the second week of sefira which is gevurah, the aspect of zahav, except that it is menukad with kesef, nekudas patach. Through this we say that we will open up all the gates of blessing and since every gate has a מפתח (key) we make the image of a key on the challah.

5) The previous four reasons are all brought by the Ohev Yisroel in Shabbos Acher Pesach and Likutim Parshas Shmini. There is a fifth reason brought by the Ohev Yisroel, also based on the posuk תּוֹרֵי זָהָב נַעֲשֶׂה לָּךְ עִם נְקֻדּוֹת הַכָּסֶף, connecting the written and oral Torah to challah. (See Ohev Yisroel, Shabbos Acher Pesach)

6) The matza we ate on Pesach is supposed to instill in us Yiras Hashem. And Yirah is compared to a key as we see from the following Gemara in Mesechta Shabbos 31a-b: “Rabbah bar Rav Huna said: Any person that has Torah but doesn’t have Yiras Shomayim is comparable to a treasurer who has the keys to the inner parts (of the treasure house) but the keys to the outer area was not handed to him. How can he get to the inner parts (if he can’t first get into the outer parts)?” Therefore we put a key in the challah the Shabbos after Pesach to show we want the Yirah obtained from the matzos to stay with us, because if one has Yirah then the Torah will stay attached to him. (Yismach Yisroel)

7) The Rambam lists out at the beginning of Hilchos Chometz U’Matza that there are 8 mitzvos (3 positive & 5 negative) involved there. The key we put in the challah alludes to this Rambam: the letters of מפתח (key) spell פ״ת ח׳ מ׳צות. (פ״ת is bread, representing the “chometz” and מ׳ is for matza- these allude to Hilchos Chometz U’Matza, and theח׳ is the 8 mitzvos involved) (Tzvi LaTzadik)

8) The Shabbos after Pesach we make challos that look like matzos, as an allusion to the matzos that were eaten on Pesach Sheini. And we put a key in it to allude to the “gates” being open untill Pesach Sheini. (Imrei Pinchos)

9) The minhag is to put keys in the challah and make them in the form of matzos. The reason is that in these seven weeks of sefira we are supposed to work on our Avodas Hashem until we reach the the level of the first night of Pesach. The way to do this is to put the “left into the right”, meaning mix the trait of ahava (right side) with yirah (left side). In this second week of sefira we have these two traits in our hands, since the first week of sefira is chesed- ahava, and the second week is gevura - yirah. That is why we make the challah look like matza. Matza is representative of the yetzer tov, the right, and chometz is representative of the yetzer horah, the left. Now, we have challos which are true chometz, in the form of matza; “the left is in the right”, chometz in matza. (Shearis L’Pinchos)

10) There are many reasons given for the shlissel challah, and I say that the shlisel challos are the keys to parnasa. (Segulas HaBeShT V’Talmidov quoting Nachlas Yaakov)

Different ways of making Shlissel Challah

As mentioned above (reasons 8 and 9) there are those that make the challah round and flattish for this Shabbos, in the image of matza.

Some make the challah in the shape of a key.

Some attach a piece of dough in the shape of a key. Breslov Customs for Pesach (page 57) says this is the minhag of the family of Reb Elazar Kenig shlita and of Manistritch.

Sefer Hatoda’ah mentions making the image of a key with sesame seeds on top of the challah. These first three customs can, perhaps, be seen from the wording of the Ohev Yisroel in one place where he says we put the image of a key on the challah.

Some place an actual key in the challah. Perhaps this is done because of the wording in many places of indenting the challah with a key.

Either way it is done the key or image of the key is usually on top. An interesting observation about this. The Gemara quoted by the Yismach Yisroel (reason 6), about the key, is at the top of daf 31b. At the bottom of the daf is the mishna mentioning the women’s mitzvah of challah. Here to the key is on top and the challah on the bottom.

Conclusion

The Gemara in Taanis says there are three keys that Hashem controls directly, without the assistance of Malachim. They are rain, which the Gemara explains is parnasa, childbirth (or conception) and techias hameisim. If I may humbly add, when we are making the challah to have in mind the parnasa of others also, and also those who don’t have children and most importantly daven for techias hamaeisim.

Either way one performs this minhag they are all correct and all have holy sources

Biur Chametz- Burning the chometz

"Mi k'amcha Yisrael – Who is like Your nation, Israel?!"

It was the afternoon before Passover, and Rabbi Levi Yitzchak was wandering through the streets of the Jewish quarter seeking out local smugglers. From one he quietly asked for a quote on contraband tobacco, from another he enquired about the availability of smuggled brocades and embroideries. No matter the merchandise he sought, everything was available for the right price.

However, when he started asking his newfound acquaintances to supply him with some bread or whiskey, those very same businessmen who had previously proved so accommodating balked. "Rabbi," said one, "are you trying to insult me? The seder will be starting in just a few hours and no Jew would have even a speck of chametz left in his home or business."

Not one merchant was able to come up with even a crumb of bread or dram of alcoholNo matter the price offered, not one merchant was willing or able to come up with even a crumb of bread or dram of alcohol. The town had converted into a chametz-free zone.

Thrilled with the results of his failed quest, the rabbi looked up to heaven and declared: "G‑d Almighty, look down with pride at Your people! The Czar has border guards and tax-commissioners dedicated to his commands. The police and the courts are devoted to tracking down and punishing smugglers and black-marketers, and yet, anything one could possibly want is available. Contrast this with the faith and fidelity of Your Jews. It has been over 3,000 years since you commanded us to observe Passover. No police, no guards, no courts and jails enforce this edict—and yet every Jew keeps Your laws to the utmost!

"Mi k'amcha Yisrael – Who is like Your nation, Israel?!"

The Nochumsohn Wedding

Stories on a Motzei Shabbos

Question: Why is it customary to tell stories of the Baal Shem Tov (the founder of the Hasidic movement) after Shabbos ends?

Answer: Thank you for your excellent question. For the most part, I have heard that it is customary to teach stories of the Baal Shem Tov and his disciples, and their disciples, etc., on Saturday night after Shabbos, at the Melaveh Malka meal which is eaten some time after the Havdalah ceremony. At this meal we sing songs of King David and Elijah the Prophet. It is called the Meal of King David because the prophet Nathan told King David that he would die on a Shabbos, thus King David would make a meal every week after Shabbos to celebrate being granted another week of life. Elijah the prophet is also a major theme on Saturday night because the Bible teaches that Elijah will come back at the end of days to announce the coming of the Messiah. The Sages teach that Elijah cannot come on Friday or Shabbos, thus Saturday night is special as it is the first opportunity for Elijah to come in the week after time when he could not have come.

The Baal Shem Tov has some connection to King David as they both share the same Yahrtzeit, which is the holiday of Shavuos.

The holy Ohr HaChayim (author of the Torah commentary by the same name) taught that the Torah actually tells us that God created the world for only six days, and when He saw the works of the righteous He decided to keep the world going. Some say that this is one reason we tell stories of the righteous people on Saturday night, as a reminder, as it were, to God to keep the world going.

The old Belzer Rebbe taught “everyone says that it is a segulah (good omen or charm) for Parnassah (livelihood and wealth) to tell stories of the Baal Shem Tov on Saturday night after Shabbos.” “I disagree,” he said. “It is not only a Segulah for Parnassah, it is a Segulah for all good things. It is not only Saturday night but any time. And it is not only stories of the Baal Shem Tov, but of all of the Tzaddikim (righteous people), even of us.”

There are different traditions of which Tzaddikim are Segulos for different good things.

Also, if one tells a story about something good happening to someone, particularly with a blessing from a Tzaddik, it is a Segulah that such things will happen in the world, either to yourself or to help others.

There is a statement in the Mishnah in Pirkei Avos (Chapters of the Fathers) that “Lo HaMedrash Ha’Ikar Eleh Ha’Maaseh” – “the main thing is not the study but the action”, meaning that a scholar that is not pious is empty. One Hassidic Rebbe noted humorously that the word “Maaseh“, which means “action”, also means “story”, which he taught that “the main thing is not the study, rather it’s the telling of stories.” Hasidic Jews consider story telling to be a divine devotion to God, and this is especially practiced on Saturday nights.

The Rabbi's Smile


Rabbi Levi Yitzhak sent for a wealthy man who lived in his town of Berdichev. When he arrived, the rabbi implored him, "There is a poor man who needs assistance. I have asked all the others to give to a fund for him. But a substantial sum is still needed. I have no one else to ask but you."

"Rabbi, it pains me to refuse you. I obey every commandment, every mitzvah. You know that. But I will not give to any of these special causes. In fact, I wish you wouldn't even ask me in the future. That way, I won't be forced to dishonor you by turning you down."

Months later, Rabbi Levi Yitzhak was visited by the brother of that wealthy man. The brother, Rabbi Levi Yitzhak learned, was poor, had many children, and now needed money for the marriage of one of his daughters. Naturally, he had asked his wealthy brother for assistance. His brother had turned him down. Rabbi Levi Yitzhak looked at the man a long while. Then he said, "Do not worry. I believe I know what to do."

The next day, Rabbi Levi Yitzhak appeared at the wealthy brother's door. When the surprised man escorted the rabbi inside, Rabbi Levi Yitzhak walked to a chair and sat down. He said nothing. Respectfully, the wealthy man stood in front of him, waiting for the rabbi to speak.

Rabbi Levi Yitzhak smiled, but did not speak. After a long time, the wealthy man sat down. Even so, Rabbi Levi Yitzhak remained silent.

An hour later Rabbi Levi Yitzhak, still smiling, got up and left.

The next day, Rabbi Levi Yitzhak appeared again at the wealthy man's door. Again, the wealthy man sat in silence for an entire hour, waiting for the smiling rabbi to speak.

The third day, Rabbi Levi Yitzhak appeared once more. He sat silently for another hour, then got up to leave. As he rose, the wealthy man said, "I can't bear this, rabbi. Why do you come here and say nothing? And why do you smile the whole time?"

Rabbi Levi Yitzhak settled back in his chair. "Our sages say it is a mitzvah, a commandment, to give a rebuke when it will be heeded. And they also say we are commanded not to chastise when it will not have a positive effect.

"All these years, my friend, I have fulfilled the first of those commandments many times. But the second one? The people in this town have been eager to hear what I want and to do what I ask. As a result, I have never had the opportunity to fulfill the commandment not to offer a rebuke. So I smile in pleasure at fulfilling a commandment for the first time!"

The wealthy man turned red with embarrassment. At last he said, "What is it you wish me to do?" When Rabbi Levi Yitzhak told him, he gave a large sum of money for his brother.

As Rabbi Levi Yitzhak left, he smiled.

It was the custom of Rebbe Zusia of Anapol, to recite his morning prayers at length. After he concluded, he would retire to his room next to the shul. Once there, he would open the window and, lifting his eyes to the heavens, call out, "Ribbono shel Olam, Zusia is very hungry and desires to eat something!"

Every morning, his attendant would wait until he heard Reb Zusia's appeal, then he would bring in Reb Zusia's morning meal of cake with a little schnapps. One morning the attendant thought to himself, "Why doesn't Reb Zusia ask me directly for his meal. In fact, who does he think he is fooling by calling out to G-d like that? He knows full well that I bring him his food everyday." So on the spot he decided that the next morning he would not bring Reb Zusia's meal when he called out. He would just wait to see what would happen and where Reb Zusia's would look for his meal.

The next morning, Reb Zusia awoke as usual, well before the light of day. As he did every morning, he first went to the town mikveh to immerse himself in preparation for the day's holy work. The night had been a rainy one in Anapol, and the streets of the town had already turned to rivers of mud. In order to get from one side of the street to another, one had to cross on narrow planks that were laid across the flowing mud. As Reb Zusia was crossing in the direction of the mikveh, a man whom he didn't recognize, a guest in town, was coming towards Reb Zusia from the other side. When he saw Reb Zusia, gaunt, almost emaciated, dressed in rags without a tooth in his mouth, the stranger yelled out, "Tramp!" and with a hearty laugh jumped up and down on the plank causing Reb Zusia to tumble into the mud. Reb Zusia didn't say a word. He calmly picked himself out of the mud and continued on his way to the mikveh, while the stranger sauntered off into the distance, chuckling merrily the whole way as he re-enacted his clever maneuver over and over in his mind. When he arrived back at the inn where he was staying, he couldn't help but brag to the innkeeper about his amusing prank. The innkeeper didn't laugh so quickly. He asked the guest to describe the tramp whom he had catapulted into the mud. Upon hearing, he clapped his hands to his head and cried out in anguish, "Oy! Oy vavoy! Do you know what you did? That was not just some itinerant, that was the Rebbe Reb Zusia!"

Now it was the turn of the guest to cry out "Oy vavoy," for Reb Zusia was known to all as a holy tzaddik. Trembling, the guest struck his breast, "Oy vey, Oy Vey! What am I going to do now? What am I going to do!"

"Don't worry," exclaimed the innkeeper, regaining his composure. "Listen to me. I know what you should do. Reb Zusia spends many hours every morning in prayer. When he is finished he goes into his private room next to the shul. There he opens the window, and anybody can see how he thrusts his head out, and calls toward the heavens, 'Ribbono shel Olam, Zusia is very hungry and desires to eat something!' So, I'll prepare some cakes and some schnapps for you to take to him. When you hear him call out to the Creator, you go in immediately with this gift, and offer it to him and beg his forgiveness. I'm certain that he will forgive you whole-heartedly."

That morning, like every morning, after the prayers, Reb Zusia went into his room, opened the window and called out, "Ribbono shel Olam, Zusia is very hungry and desires to eat something!" The attendant, upon hearing Reb Zusia, held his ground and clasped his folded arms together even tighter, waiting to see what the outcome would be. "Let Ribbono shel Olam bring him his cake this morning", he huffed to himself. Suddenly the door to the shul opened and a man, holding a large plate of cakes and a bottle of schnapps came in and made his way to the room of Reb Zusia. He went straight in, put the cakes on the table, and then fell to the floor in grief, begging the tzaddik for his forgiveness (which he was certainly granted). Let it be known, that the attendant came to understand that it really was the Master of the World who brought Reb Zusia his breakfast every morning.

"Where is God to be found? In the place where He is given entry"The Kotzker Rebbe

The Ten Shul Commandments : (or, your ten step guide to synagogue confidence:)

1. If you arrive after the start don't sit down right away, but
instead open the book near the beginning and spend 2 or 3
minutes turning slowly through the pages while mumbling under
your breath. If you recognise any of the Hebrew words, say one
or two of them a little louder so those around you can hear.

2. Find a seat just behind someone who looks like they know
what's going on. (You can tell this person because they are
likely to be mumbling to themselves under their breath). Make
sure this person is using the same siddur as you. Keep a
note of what page they are on by glancing casually over their
shoulder every now and again. A pair of strong magnification
glasses may help here.

3. When putting on the tallit wrap it around your head for a few
seconds while mumbling under your breath. If you want to look really
pious, leave it there for the whole service, close your eyes but try not to fall asleep.

4. Liberally sprinkle your time in shul with more barely audible
mumbles as you look intently at the pages of your siddur. Again,
the odd word, phrase or line spoken accurately and a little
louder than the rest goes down very well.

5. Don't jump up whenever the person in front does so. They may
be stretching their legs. Instead, wait a moment until a
significant proportion of the congregation are standing. In this
way, even if they are all stretching their legs you won't look
conspicuous.

6. See those guys near the front that are wandering around with
an air of assurance? These are the shammosim. AVOID EYE CONTACT
WITH THESE PEOPLE or you may find yourself being asked to do
something strange like opening the curtain of the Aron Kodesh or,
heaven forbid, saying something in Hebrew out loud in front of everyone.

7. The easiest way to look the part is to shockel.People have won
international shockelling competitions without having a clue about
where in the service they were.
Advanced shockellers will even shockel when everyone else is
sitting. (Of course, sometimes this may be a disguised
leg-stretch).

Schockelling is an entire lesson in itself but there are two
basic forms. The "lateral swing" is usually seen in
ultra-orthodox congregations. Here the practitioner is perfectly
still from the waist down (feet together, naturally), while the
top half of the body repeatedly twists at speed.

The "Hammerhead" is more prevalent in mainstream orthodox shuls
and, as the name suggests, the congregant looks as if they are
trying to bang a nail into the floor with his head. (I say "his"
because women prefer to use this time for kibitzing or kvelling
over the way their grandson shockels.).

Shockelling mainly takes place during the silent Amidah. This is
about 10 pages during which you have no idea where everyone else
is. All you do know is that if the others were really reading
all the prayers involved they would be contenders for the world
speed-reading record. You know when it starts because everyone
takes three steps back, then three steps forward, then they bow.
This is your cue to start shockelling while turning the pages of
your prayer book approximately every 15 seconds. The end of the
silent Amidah is signalled by everyone taking three short steps
back, bowing to the left, the right and the centre and then
looking round to see if they won.

8. Is the Rabbi speaking in English and yet you can't understand
what he's on about? If so, this is the sermon and it's your job
to look alive. Paying attention to the sermon is a skill that
may take many years to master rather in the way that one learns
how to complete cryptic crosswords. The formula for this
particular puzzle is fairly simple: The narrative of Torah
portion you have just heard plus something from local or
national news equals "you should go to shul more regularly" or
"your home isn't kosher enough".

9. Feel free to talk to people near you at any time. Business
and football are particularly appropriate topics of
conversation. Seeking kavanah and listening to the sermon will
be regarded with suspicion in most communities.

10. If you can keep your cool until the end of the service you
will be rewarded. At last something that is familiar, and a
chance to clear your throat and give it some as you bash out Ein
Kelokaynu just like you did at cheder all those years ago.
One final word of warning. If it goes well and you feel
confident enough to go back for a second week running you will
be classified as a regular. This means there is a very good
chance you will be asked to be the next synagogue chairman.

Sent in By Graham Smith

Purim 5770 Seuda

Purim - Drum Cafe