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Rabbi Yehuda (Leonard) Blank MS, BCC
Vice President of Professional Development and External Affairs
Chair of the Chaplaincy Commission
Rabbinical Alliance of America/Igud HaRabbonim
917-446-2126 rablenblank@gmail.com
<> Thursday January 25, 2024, Shevat 15, 5783<>
ט”ו בשבט
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A time to cry and a time to be happy.
A time to pray and a time to study.
A time to bring Klal Yisrael together.
A time to remove the obstacles of achdus.
Finding kindness and goodness in others.
Showing kindness and goodness to others.
Caring for each other.
Being sensitive to others.
Our brothers and sisters together with us in Yiddishkeit.
May we all have a Shanah Tovah Umesukah.
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I hate to use the phrase we know it all, because who are we to say we do know it all. Having gone through challenging times can a person have empathy, understand the anguish, the pain and the suffering of another person. Understanding this thought might help a person to not to use the phrase, “I know what you are going through I have had the same ailment and know the pain.” Many of us who have gone through challenging times can and do remember those difficult times and experiences. Many of those experiences don’t necessarily have to have been major catastrophes. It could be something that occurred doing childhood that has had a lasting effect on a person growing up. Many of those occurrences can have a profound effect on the emotions of a person, especially when a similar occurrence happens to a relative or someone is close to. There are other very serious situations such as PTSD when even a sudden occurrence brings back a possible tragic memory of something that happened in another period of time. But interestingly, there are fond memories that bring up good feelings as well. Even certain smells and odors can bring back all kinds of memories and feelings.
Though many emotions can occur spontaneously and be appropriate, there are times when those feelings arise and appear out of place. Telling a child, a friend or a spouse that now is not the time for your tears or laughter can show a lack of sensitivity and understanding. Unique about chaplains is the time spent with a patient that is limited. A healthcare chaplain for instance can meet with a patient one time and it is possible for that patient to be discharged in two days. With a large caseload of patients to see, it might not be possible, especially if there are sudden emergencies, for that patient to be seen the next day. A chaplain has to be astute and on guard for a quick change of discussion by a patient who thoughts elicit different feelings and emotions. That is why it is helpful for chaplains to be experienced and if possible trained to know how and when to respond.
It is mind boggling that thousands if not millions who are protesting, ranting, raving, shouting epitaphs that often lead to violence. Some of the news commentators have mentioned that among the masses, there are multitudes who totally do not know why they are marching. What is even more mind boggling is the terrible acts of violence, the atrocities being committed against innocent victims. How is it possible that there might be thousands who are protesting against Israel and the Jewish people are also of the same religion and cultures in countries being massacred. Yet, there are no protests on their behalf. In our Yeshivos, Day Schools, Talmud Torahs, Bais Yaakovs are filled with Torah learning, Judaism, Tehillim and Tefilos yet we do not protest. Gatherings with meaningful prayers and inspirational speeches. No hatred, no violence, no threats against humanity, but reaching up to the Heavens for mercy and Shalom al Yisrael for our Jewish brothers and sisters all over the world. Recently, I personally felt anguish when I saw the protesters in front of Sloan Memorial Kettering Cancer Center. For three years I went with my wife a”h for her treatments and remember the many patients, the families, their loved ones and yes even the children. Watching the news on the computer of how the protesters were shouting and pointing towards the children who were at Sloan looking out the windows was very sad. It was difficult to understand what they were thinking.
We must bring Klal Yisrael together. We must find ways to eliminate those obstacles that prevent achdus. We all must pray to H and lift up our Torah high keeping our mitzvos close to our hearts. We must find kindness in others and show our own kindness and goodness to our fellow Jews and to everyone. We must find ways of making a Kiddush H. We must find ways of befriending our brethren in bringing H closer to us, our families, and our friends. We must share our love for H and show how much He loves us. The Torah and our mitzvos are for all Jewish men, women, and children. It is not for a select segment of the Jewish nation. But we must always love our fellow Jew no matter what his or her background or Jewish observance might be. At a recent meeting of Jewish community chaplains belonging to the Neshama; Association of Jewish Chaplains one of the chaplains shared how much she cared for the Jewish residents of a certain skilled residence and her concern that Yiddishkeit should continue to be brought to the residents of that facility even though the choice for kosher food was no longer being given. I was so touched by this chaplain’s feelings and concerns. She could have given up or said too bad, but what could I do. This chaplain truly cared and conveyed her feelings of love for those residents who were her Jewish brothers and sisters. She surely expressed her goodness and kindness.
There are all types of kindness and goodness.
Last week on a NYC bus, I was standing near the front of the bus right before the white line. An elderly man with a walker was standing right behind me. He wanted to get off the bus at the bus stop. He shouted and told me to move and get off the bus so he could get off the bus. He was quite impatient. I started to move but the driver started to open the ramp so the elderly man could get off. For some reason the driver did not notice me right away and when he did, he had already started to return the ramp which closed on my foot. He raised the ramp and I slowly walked to a seat. I took off my shoe to see if my foot was injured. B H it was not cut but I was unable to move my toes. The driver asked if I wanted to have an ambulance to take me to the hospital. He was concerned and felt bad for what had happened. Most of the passengers stayed for a while watching what was going to happen and appeared concerned. After that group left the bus, there was one woman who remained sitting nearby. She recommended I go to the hospital with the ambulance the bus driver wanted to request. I agreed with her. I regret not asking for her phone number to call and tell her that I appreciated her waiting and her concern but before I realized it she had left the bus. I did not shout at the driver, nor say anything that was not appropriate. I felt bad for him and asked how he was. In the meantime I called Hatzalah and I was taken to NYU to ensure the swelling and the numbness was not a fracture or internal bleeding. B H I did not have a fracture. The doctor mentioned that the swelling and pain would eventually dissipate. I felt kindness and goodness by the passengers on the bus especially that caring stranger who remained as long as possible. I felt kindness from the bus driver who spoke to me in a gentle way. Ok, it was a mistake but the driver did show kindness The two men who came from Hatzalah were caring and very helpful. It appeared my foot was caught at the edge of the ramp squeezing on half of my foot. BH my foot was not in the middle of the ramp which most likely would have caused more harm. The staff at NYU were kind, caring and professional. Throughout this experience, I gave thanks to H for everything and I was relieved that I not only kept calm, but hopefully made a Kiddush H. Kindness and goodness come in all sizes. How we react in various situations, how we convey and appreciate others kindness, no matter what the person’s religion, culture, ethnicity, or background is important to remember. While I was in another part of the hospital waiting for my foot to be x-rayed, I saw a Chasidic patient whose daughter asked me if she could bring me something from the Bikur Cholim room. It was such a nice chesed. Here I was alone, and this person was so thoughtful. Such wonderful Mi Keamcha Yisrael.
I would like to share another story of a Kiddush H. Everyone in my building addresses me as Rabbi Blank. This week a neighbor who is not Jewish stopped to speak to me and asked if she could seek my advice about something important to her. She told me most people not only know I am a rabbi, but a very kind and caring one. I was so touched I felt like crying. Why? That B H I have been able to have such a positive impact in a positive way making a Kiddush H. I have never thought of myself as being anything else but a pashudika Yid. Whatever positions I have held including the present, I am grateful to the Ribono shel Olam. Being alone gives me more time to think of my relationship with H and what my tafkid is. We all have a responsibility to have hakaros hatov to H for everything we are able to do, especially in being able to make a Kiddush H. Nothing that we do in this world is because we are so great. Being sincere, sensitive, kind, caring, loving, are important attributes and appreciating what we are capable of doing means so much. Even being sensitive to the bus driver as well as not being upset at the elderly man with his walker is so important. The following stories convey the importance of being sensitive, caring and kind.
I would like to share two beautiful stories from the book “What A Story” by Rabbi Yechiel Spero, ArtScroll Series, Mesorah Publications Ltd. “If the Shoe Fits!” and “Be An Angel” “If the Shoe Fits!” (Pages 119-121)“Rav Binyamin Dinovitz served as Rav of Ohel Yakov Congregation in Baltimore for over 50 years. In the 1960’s Rav Dinovitz worked hard to raise a family. Financially, it was not easy, certainly not for a rav.
Despite his young age, Rav Dinovitz began to experience foot problems. After seeing several doctors, he was advised to buy special therapeutic socks to help alleviate the pain. However, his tight budget did not allow for extras. When weighed against necessities like food, rent and tuition, therapeutic socks fell into the luxury category. In order to afford the precious socks, he put aside money, a bit every week, until he had enough to but five pairs of therapeutic socks.
Rav Binyamin’s reputation as a sensitive and caring individual made his home a common stop for those seeking assistance. Although he was not able to give large sums of money, he was able to give a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on, and an enormous heart.
One day, a needy fellow came to Rav Binyamin’s door, seeking advice on an important matter. During the course of the conversation, the man shared that he had recently begun suffering from foot ailments. Soon enough, Rav Binyamin realized that he and the man suffered from the same type of pain. Not only that, but the man had also been advised to buy special socks. Yes, the same socks Rav Binyamin had recently purchased.
Immediately, Rav Binyamin called in his son Peretz and instructed him to retrieve the bag of socks he had just acquired, Peretz was old enough to know that his father had saved money to buy the socks and that they were very necessary for his comfort and well-being. But he also knew how generous his father was. So he quickly made his way to the bag of socks and took out two pairs of socks-for his father- leaving only three to give to their guest.
He brought the bag to his father, who looked inside. Noticing that two pairs were missing, he again sent Peretz to his room and asked him to find the two missing pairs. Recognizing what he was up against, Peretz returned a moment later with the last two pairs. His father put them in the bag and happily handed them to his visitor.
If need be, Rav Binyamin would suffer. But at least he was able to ease the discomfort and pain of a fellow Jew.
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Rav Dinovitz’s foot issues extended to his arches. At a certain point became so acute that it was difficult to go about his daily routine. Then someone suggested a local woman, a widow, who sold custom-made orthopedic shoes and took pride in her work. Rav Dinovitz called and asked her to fashion a pair for him. Although hit was going to be expensive, it would be worth it – for him physically and for her financially. A win-win situation, in his view. After saving up for this purchase, Rav Dinovitz took the money and, along with his son Peretz, went to be fitted.
The woman prepared a mold for his feet and promised Rav Binyamin that the shoes would be ready in three weeks. She assured him they would be worth the money and the wait, as they would reduce his pain and enhance hi functionality. Rav Binyamin paid in full and waited anxiously for the finished product.
Finally, the day arrived, and he and his son drove to the woman’s home. Though she suggested he try on the shoes first to make sure they fit properly. Rav Dinovitz didn’t want to go through the painstaking process of taking off his shoes and putting on the new ones, so he thanked the woman and took the shoes without trying them on.
Father and son excitedly looked forward to Rav Dinovitz’s relief from his constant pain, but their excitement was short-lived. Try as he might, he was unable to put the shoes on. Rav Dinovitz and Peretz soon came to the unfortunate realization that the shoes had been crafted incorrectly. Rav Dinovitz merely shrugged his shoulders in resignation, but his son suggested the obvious. “Tomorrow, we’ll go back to the woman and ask her to make a new pair for you or else refund your money.”
A kind and gentle soul , Rav Dinovitz always spoke softly. Not this time. He responded to his son emphatically and strongly. “Absolutely not! Nebach, this woman devoted three weeks to making the shoes and this is her only source of income. I can’t allow her to lose out. Until now, I’ve been able to manage, and with continued help from H, I will be all right. But under no circumstances will we bring the shoes back.” He was as good as his word.
Rav Dinovitz passed away in 2008. But those brand-new shoes still sit in his children’s home. A priceless heirloom.”
“Be an Angel” “(Pages 127-130) After writing down his Chiddushei Torah for many years, Reb Yonasan, a young talmid chacham from Eretz Yisrael, decided to publish them, As he prepared them for print, he went through his notes over and over again, elucidating his thoughts and proofreading for mistakes. Finally he felt the manuscript was ready for publication.
But before printing he wanted a tzaddik’s haskamah, Since Reb Yonasan lived near the Be’er Yaakov of Nadvorna, he made an appointment and showed the Rebbe the gilyonos, the pages of chiddushei Torah. The Rebbe looked them over and was very impressed, praising Reb Yonasan and commenting on how he must have come from a home of Torah and hasmadah.
Reb Yonasan replied that this was not the case. He did not come from a home where Torah was learned. Far from it, in fact.
Then he told his story.
I grew up in a secular home in Ramat Gan. While my father was completely uninvolved and totally removed from Yiddishkeit, my mother was a little more connected but still mostly unobservant. Nevertheless, a small spark of Yiddishkeit flickered inside of her, and occasionally she acted upon it.
One Simchas Torah, she decided to bring me to Kiryas Vizhnitz for hakafos, two kilometers (about a mile and a quarter from my home). While it was by no means a short walk for a little boy, it was doable.
The night of Simchas Torah arrived and I dressed for the occasion, with a nicer than usual shirt and pair of pants, plus sandals instead of sneakers. As we walked, I held my mother’s hand, anticipating something special, though I wasn’t really sure what to expect.
As we walked up to the impressive marble edifice, I took note of the hustle and bustle. Hundreds of families were walking around, many pushing strollers, their children holding toy Sifrei Torah, flags and bags of treats.
My mother knew she couldn’t bring me into the beis midrash, so she told me to walk in myself. Drawn toward the singing and dancing, I made my way up the many stairs into the building and then into the beis midrash. As a small boy among many adults, it was hard to see where I was going, yet I followed the crowd into the beis midrash, which was filled with boy around my age and men crowned with shtreimlach. All having a wonderful time. The palpable energy made me want to jump right in.
But how and with whom? I was just a little boy standing awkwardly, lost and alone. There were bags of candy, flags flying in the air, and children jumping up and down. And then there was me.
No yarmulke. No payos. Empty-handed. No parent there to guide me. I can still remember the overwhelming feelings of loneliness and disorientation.”
As I stood there, all the little boys began running toward their fathers, who bent down and lifted them up onto their shoulders. It was the sixth hakafah: hakafas yeladim, the children’ hakafah: the Vizhnitzer Chassidim have the minhag of lifting their children onto their shoulders during this hakafah. The excitement reached its height as the children sat there, on top of the world.
But I had nowhere to go. Although my father was alive and well, he had refused to come along. I started to think that perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea after all, and maybe I should just turn around and leave.
Out of nowhere, the kindest and warmest man bent down toward me, his eyes radiating love. “Tzaddik’l do you want to climb on my shoulders?” My heart skipped a beat; I couldn’t believe I was going to be like everyone else. Overcome, all I could do was nod my head. Thankfully, for him it was enough.
He lifted me carefully onto his shoulders and danced with me, asking every minute or two if I was comfortable, if I was all right, did I want to come down. For the next 30 minutes, the man danced with me and jumped with me and sang along with the crowd, “Moshe emes ve’Soraso emes,” and I smiled from ear to ear, enjoying every moment. It was an electric atmosphere.
I had never felt so alive and so connected to Yiddishkeit, It had always been portrayed to me, especially by my father, in such a negative light. And now I couldn’t get enough of the magic. Even though I didn’t know the words, I sang and rejoiced like all the other children, and smiled and laughed. It was one of the most intoxicating moments of my life. I didn’t want the hakafah to end; I wished it would last forever, but obviously it didn’t. After about a half-hour, it was over, and the tzaddik bent down and eased me off of his shoulders. He smiled at me and I smiled back.
That was the last time I saw him.
“Rebbe,” concluded Reb Yonason,” until today, I don’t know the name of that malach. But that’s the day my life was turned around. Though I was still young, that’s the day I decided to become a ben Torah.”
At times, a Yid may go through hard times, feeling lost and alone. Overwhelmed and disoriented.
If you know someone going through a hard time, you be their malach.
They will never forget it.
And they will never forget you.”
May we be zoche to be that malach in a person’s life.
May we always be able to give and convey kindness and goodness.
May we be able to enhance achdus and make a Kiddush H.
May we be able to continue to bring the love of H, the love of our Torah and mitzvos close to our brothers’ and sisters’ hearts.
May we be able to instill the love of Yiddishkeit into the hearts and lives of all of our brethren.
May we truly have Shalom al Yisrael and appreciate Chaveirim Kol Yisrael and Am Yisrael Chai.
May we all have a Shanah Tovah Umesukah. Today is Rosh Hashanah of Ilonos/Trees
Sincerely, Rabbi Yehuda Blank