Bashert In Other Religions

I found this very interesting post on CNN.com which addresses the concept of having a "soul mate" from the perspective of several different religions, including Judaism.

The launching point for the article is a discussion of a Christian dating website that claims they can find G-d's match for its users. It seems there are indeed a lot of Christians out there that put a lot of stock in hoping to find their soul mate, which can keep them optimistic, or mire them in holding out forever, or even lead to divorce when they "discover" that the person they married wasn't the soul mate they had once envisioned.

The debate among Christians is intriguing. Some are very adamant that soul mates exist, yet others refuse to think that there is one specific person out there for every individual.

I was a bit surprised to learn that Muslims don't believe in the notion whatsoever. Apparently, it places the "fault" of divorce in G-d's Hands if He is also the one who makes matches. After thinking about it a bit, it makes some sense, especially with the belief of multi-virgin reward in the great hereafter and continued practice of polygamy in many areas.

I'm not such a fan of Christian author Dannah Gresh's attempt to understand the Hebrew word "Yada" - which she elaborated on in a separate blog on eHarmony (yes, the lone comment is me).

The conclusion seems pretty moderate, and reflects some values that many Jews also hold onto. Namely, your soul mate/bashert is who you make out of your spouse. Certainly once married, it is appropriate to take this stance, and thereby put all of your mental and emotional energy into espousing that concept for the health of the relationship. Pining after a unknown, other soul mate can only get someone in trouble, as we have seen with former South Carolina Governor Mark Sanford.

For prior posts about soul mates, see here and here.

Serendipity

Leah stood outside the restaurant, arms crossed tightly against her chest in an effort to stay warm. Her date was overdue. She hazarded a peek at her watch, hoping the maître d' hadn’t already given away their table to one of the other couples that passed her by in the last fifteen minutes. Tired of seeing her breath puffing into ephemeral life and fading into the cold air, she decided to head inside and wait by the sushi bar.

Yoel Dovid hurriedly bobbed and weaved through the stream of pedestrians on the sidewalk. He didn’t need to check the time; he knew he was quite late. He hoped his date would understand that his hectic school schedule sometimes inconvenienced him and often frustrated his shidduch opportunities. Thankfully, he had found a spare block of time to get away and focus on his search for a wife, now entering its sixth year. Turning the corner, he saw the restaurant’s sign glowing in the fading light of the evening. He quickly checked right and left then dashed across the street, flung open the door and waded inside.

The head waiter looked up from his smart phone and offered his most polished smile.

“Do you have a reservation, sir?”

Yoel Dovid pulled his scarf away from his chin and cleared his throat. “Yes, Sandler, table for two.”

“Ah,” the other man skimmed the list on the computer screen in front of him. “You’re late.”

“I know, I’m sorry. Do you still have an open table?”

“Why of course,” the waiter smirked. “Is your entire party here?”

Yoel Dovid searched the restaurant, hoping that his date hadn’t gotten fed up with him and left already. “Yes, I think that’s her right over there,” he gestured toward a tall woman with shoulder-length auburn hair standing by the sushi bar with her back to them.

“Do fetch her then, and follow me,” he replied in a haughty tone.

Yoel Dovid practically ran over to the lone woman. “Hello! I’m terribly sorry,” he greeted her in his most congenial, yet apologetic voice. “I should’ve texted you, but there wasn’t service in the tunnel on the way from school, and I-”

“It’s about time, Yoel Dov-” She whirled around and froze midsentence.

“Leah?” he inquired, lifting an eyebrow in confusion.

“Joel?” Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Is that you, Joel Sandler?”

“I go by Yoel Dovid now,” he briefly looked at his feet. “But, yes, it’s me.”

“I can’t believe it!” Leah fought to keep her surprised ire under control.

“Me either. I never would have thought in a million years I’d find you here.”

“Yeah, I never thought in a million years I’d ever set foot in this place with you again,” she snapped.

“If anyone should be upset, it’s me, not you,” he retorted, narrowing his gaze.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Leah demanded with a terse whisper.

“As if you could forget! After all, you were the one-” Yoel Dovid felt a firm, annoyed tap on his shoulder.

“This way, please,” the maître d' curled a long finger in the air, beckoning the couple forward.

“R-right,” Yoel Dovid stammered.

“Sure, thank you,” Leah added as they quickly followed behind the server.

Upon reaching their destination, Leah and Yoel Dovid both stopped short and furtively glanced at one another.

“Here is your table,” the head waiter gestured with a flourish.

“Is there any chance you have another one available?” Yoel Dovid requested anxiously.

“No,” came the curt reply. “Please sit.” He thrust two menus in their direction and stormed off. The next few moments passed in silence as they sat down and intensely poured over the potential selections. The tension built to a crescendo and both Leah and Yoel Dovid simultaneously peeked over their respective menus. Noticing the other’s stare, they quickly jerked the menus back to their protective place.

Leah released a pent in breath, folded her menu and placed it flat on the table.

“This has got to be some kind of cosmic joke.”

Yoel Dovid dropped his menu with a clunk. “What do you mean by that, exactly?”

“This,” she gestured around them with a circular motion. “Us,” she continued, alternatively pointing toward Yoel Dovid and herself. Yoel Dovid sighed softly, biting back a potentially insulting remark.

Leah wasn’t relenting. “I just don’t understand how this could have possibly happened,” she paused for a moment to think, eyes falling toward her lap. “Ok, I can see how I messed up, since you’re using your Hebrew name now, and I’ve gotten so jaded with dating that I don’t really call references anymore,” she looked up and glared across the table. “But how in the world didn’t you know it was me?”

“Well,” Yoel Dovid began, calmly linking his fingers in front of him. “It’s been a while since we last went out, if you’ll recall. I did happen to go out with another Leah Schwartz around six months ago, so I made sure when the name came up that she wasn’t the girl being suggested.”

Leah opened her mouth to speak, but Yoel Dovid held up a hand to silence her. “And if you’re wondering, as I know you were about to mention, why I didn’t think about you when I saw the name ‘Leah Schwartz,’ it’s because I’ve worked hard to forget about you,” he exhaled slowly, letting the point sink in. “Thinking about us is not something I tend to reminisce about.”

Leah swallowed hard, and Yoel Dovid could tell he’d bruised her ego.

“Perhaps you can now understand just a little what it felt like to be me all those years ago.”

~~~

Joel was bouncing with excitement. Tonight was the night. He’d reserved a table at their favorite restaurant and informed the staff about his special plans. As soon as their waiter saw the predetermined signal – Joel returning from the restroom with his hand in his right pocket – the staff would get ready for the big moment.

Leah looked gorgeous. She even wore that dress of hers that he liked so much. Joel had made sure to wear his contacts, since Leah thought he looked more handsome that way.

“I can’t believe we’ve been going out for nine months,” Leah gushed. “Time really flies when you’re having fun, doesn’t it?” She grinned.

Joel smiled back. “Especially when you’re with someone you care about.” He glanced over her shoulder and noticed their waiter walking to a nearby table with a tray of food. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the restroom.”

“Sure, no problem. See you soon.”

Gentling tucking his chair under the table, Joel scurried off to the men’s bathroom.  Inside, he turned on the water and splashed a handful on his face. He checked his cell phone and found it to be almost fully charged. Joel knew they’d soon be making a lot of phone calls and sending out rounds of text messages, and he didn’t want to end up like his recently engaged friend whose phone died on him at that most inconvenient moment.

Joel closed his eyes and attempted to calm himself down by taking a few deep breaths. Why should he be nervous? He knew things were going really well, and Leah’s best friend told him that lately Leah had been chatting her up about her own engagement, seemingly indicating that Leah was ready. He bought the ring with his savings, along with some help from his parents, who adored Leah. It was the exact design and size Leah had always dreamed of, or so her sister informed him. Joel had already met with her parents and asked Leah’s father for permission to ask for his daughter’s hand in marriage. The Schwartzes also liked Joel a lot, and wished their future son-in-law hatzlacha, telling him that they looked forward to planning the engagement party.

This was it… It was finally going to happen. He’d met the girl of his dreams and he was finally going to propose. Nothing could be better at that very moment. Steeling his nerves, Joel left the restroom, his hand firmly clenching the small velvet covered box in his right pocket.

Nearby, he caught their waiter’s eye and offered a confirmatory nod. The waiter discreetly flashed a double thumbs up sign and went to the kitchen to prepare for his role. Joel sat down at their table and steadied his bouncing knee with his free hand.

“Did I miss anything interesting while I was gone?” He asked casually.

“Other than me eagerly awaiting your return, nope.”

Well, it was now or never. Joel inhaled deeply and steadied himself.

“Leah,” he began, fixing his eyes on Leah’s own. “These past nine months have been wonderful. I always felt unsure if I’d ever meet someone like you, someone who complements and completes me so perfectly. You’re caring, considerate,and loving…” Joel waited briefly to gather his thoughts.

“You have a tremendous love and respect for Torah, mitzvos observance and chesed, and I believe with all my heart that I could find no one better to be my partner in life,” Joel let the words linger so he could catch his breath. He quietly got up from his chair and kneeled in front of Leah.

Fumbling slightly, he retrieved the velvet box from his pocket, opened the lid, and held it out for her to behold the sparkling contents within.

“Leah Schwartz, will you marry-”

“Joel,” Leah interrupted, an uncomfortable look on her face. “I don’t think-”

“Ah, I apologize,” Joel interjected, and quickly returned to his seat. “It didn’t occur to me that you might be embarrassed to be proposed to in such a public place-”

“That’s not it,” she shook her head rapidly. “It’s just that-”

“Congratulations!” Beamed their waiter, and presented Leah with a bouquet of bright red roses cradled in the crook of his arm.

“Th-thank you, that’ll be all,” Joel said tersely as he snatched the flowers and slipped the man a five dollar bill.

“Oh, but what about-“ The waiter turned to indicate the other servers who were rapidly approaching with a bottle of champagne, two long necked champagne flutes, a fancy cake that said “Mazal Tov” in icing on the top, along with Joel’s camera. Leah looked mortified.

“Not now,” Joel insisted, holding out a hand, fingers splayed. “Please give us a moment.”

“But of course!” The waiter chirped. “I’ll let you enjoy some privacy first.” He spun on his heel and shooed away his fellow employees.

Joel stuffed the flowers beneath the tablecloth and let them fall onto his shoes. He sat up stiffly, licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry and managed to ask, “What’s wrong?”

She refused to meet his eyes, her brow was furrowed with worry.

“Leah?”

“Joel… we can’t do this. I can’t do this.”

“What do you mean?” He leaned forward, his voice faint.

“This isn’t going to work,” Leah slowly shook her head. “I know we’ve had a great time together, but I don’t see this going anywhere in the long run.”

“Well, this is a bit sudden, isn’t it?” Joel raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“It really isn’t,” her jaw tensed and she looked up. “We’ve talked about this before.”

“Talked about what, exactly?”

“Where we’re going in life. I know what my plan is, and I’ve been accepted to grad school-”

“And I’m going to go to medical school! You know that. And if you’re suddenly going to say you can’t handle marrying a future doctor, I know you’ve considered that already since your father is a doctor, and-”

“That’s not it, Joel,” Leah bit her bottom lip. “You’ve been saying that you want to go to med school since we started dating, but you’ve barely made an effort to start studying for the MCAT, and I know all about that bad chemistry grade that might foul up your application chances.”

“I have every intention to ace that test. I even bought a study guide last week. And that grade won’t mean a thing once they see my overall GPA, the research and my impressive MCAT score.”

“Joel, you don’t even have an MCAT score. You graduated college almost a year ago and you’ve just been working as a lab tech. To me, that doesn’t show serious commitment or the ability to support a wife and family.”

Joel winced. “But-”

“No buts, Joel. We have talked about this before, and you definitely should know I’ve been worried about you,” Leah pursed her lips. “But I can’t keep being your cheerleader as I progress in life and I don’t see any effort on your part to make good on your promises.”

“Leah,” Joel briefly closed his eyes. “You’re right, I did say I was going to start studying three months ago, but then things got busy at work, and we’ve been going out a lot, so I-”

“Joel, please stop with the excuses. I really like you and I can tell you like me. But, it takes a lot more serious commitment to make a marriage work, from both the practical and emotional standpoints.” Leah stopped, seemingly unsure what came next.

“Well, this is a fine way to break up with me,” Joel barked sarcastically. “In our favorite restaurant, on our anniversary, no less.”

Leah recoiled as though she had been struck. “Look, you were the one shoving a diamond ring in my face without ever bringing up the subject of getting engaged,” she fired back, her voice wavering with exasperation. “You can’t just assume that since we’ve been dating for close to a year that we’re going to get married!”

Joel moved an elbow onto the table. “If you’ve been thinking about ending things, then why have you been all cheery and smiling tonight? Have you been faking it, waiting for the right moment to break my heart?”

Leah’s upper lip trembled. “How could you say that Joel? I had no negative intentions coming into this date. I wanted to have a good time and celebrate our anniversary,” she wiped back a tear. “And now you spring this whole surprise proposal on me, almost making a scene in the restaurant, and accuse me of breaking your heart?”

“That sure seems like what’s happening from this side of the table.”

Leah sniffed and dabbed at her eye with her napkin.

“And if you were so darn sure that I would never change, why are you still going out with me?”

Leah inhaled deeply, trying to compose herself. “Because there is a part of me that really believes in you, cares about you… even loves you,” the tears trickled down freely. “I couldn’t bring myself to do anything decisive, I was scared. We had spent all this time together, seemed to get along so well, but this major red flag wasn’t going away, no matter how hard I tried to encourage you and believe that things would change.”

“Leah,” Joel began, his tone softening.                                                 

“No, Joel… it’s over. I knew that deep down this couldn’t work without me believing in you, or the possibility of our future – a secure future – with all of my heart. I’m not going to sit around waiting for you to make the right move and prove yourself, I’ve done that enough already.”

“Leah,” he repeated weakly.

“I… I have to go. Goodnight.” Leah pushed her chair back, swung her coat around her shoulders and hurriedly went out the door.

“Leah…” Joel murmured aloud to no one.

“Oh, has the future missus gone to the restroom to adjust her makeup?” The waiter inquired, suddenly reappearing with the cake on a tray and Joel’s camera dangling from his wrist.

“No. She left,” Joel said, not even bothering to look up at the man.

“Ah,” he pulled at his collar uncomfortably. “I’ll just wrap this up then and bring you your check.”

Under the table, Joel's foot stomped the bouquet of roses.

~~~  

Leah and Yoel Dovid sat in silence.

“I never would have thought you’d actually be in med school,” Leah remarked casually.

“I never thought you’d still be single,” Yoel Dovid countered, his voice even. “I would’ve bet you’d be married by now with a few kids.”

“So did I,” Leah replied meekly.

The quietness engulfed them again.

Unexpectedly, Yoel Dovid chuckled to himself.

“What’s so funny?” For some strange reason, Leah’s own mouth puckered into a slight smile.

“This,” he waved around the room. “Us,” he pointed alternately at himself and Leah.

“What do you mean by that?” She stifled the unexpected giggle building in her throat.

“What are the odds that we’d meet back here, five years later, just a few weeks short of what would have been the night we got engaged?”

Suddenly, Leah’s mind was reeling. Had it really been five years?

“And at this very table, no less,” she said, looking down. When she raised her head, she was actually smiling. “I thought you said you don’t reminisce about us from back then?”

“I don’t,” he licked his dry lips furtively.  “But that doesn’t mean I forgot you completely,” Yoel Dovid gazed deeply into Leah’s eyes. “No matter how hard I tried to.”

“Well, I still remember how romantic you used to be,” she grinned. “I guess you haven’t lost your touch over the years.”

“So,” Yoel Dovid twiddled his thumbs.

“So… what?” Leah noticed his awkwardly busy hands and laughed to herself.

“What have you been up to since the last time I saw you?”

Leah felt barriers she had built up inside her crumble and come crashing down. Walls she had erected to keep out certain feelings and lock others away turned to dust and vanished in a puff. She felt freer and more at peace than she had in a long time. Judging by the way Yoel Dovid was playfully smirking, she thought he might have experienced a similar cathartic release.

Taking a deep breath, Leah launched into her recent life story, full of its own ups and downs, woes and joys. Yoel Dovid listened intently, throwing in the occasional comment or joke, and in turn recapped his own history from the past five years. Leah was absorbed with his exposition, and began to feel as though they were the only two people in the entire restaurant.

Before they knew it, they were laughing and smiling together like old times.

“Do you remember that time Avi tried to get you to set him up with your friend Ally?” Yoel Dovid asked in between mouthfuls of pasta.

“Man, what a disaster that was!” Leah put her fork down, trying not to choke as she cracked up from just thinking about Avi pining after Ally.

“Ahem!” A loud voice declared, almost causing both of them to jump from their seats. They whirled around to face the maître d’, who stood next to them with a ramrod straight posture holding an index finger to his wristwatch. He tapped it three times with great annoyance.

“We are closing in ten minutes,” he indicated the otherwise empty room. He reached into the pocket of his apron and flung a leather bound folder onto the table. Yoel Dovid quickly snatched it up, extracted a credit card from his wallet, and returned both to the waiter. “Thank you, sir. I’ll return shortly,” he quipped, spinning on a heel and retreating to the register.

“Well…” Yoel Dovid grinned ever-so-slightly as a wild thought popped into his head. “Want to go see if the old ring still fits?”

Leah was flabbergasted. “What do you mean…?! You still have it?”

“It’s funny, actually...” He leaned back in his chair and stared absently at the ceiling.

“W-what’re you talking about?”

“It’s been sitting in my glove compartment for five years.”

Leah’s jaw dropped. “You’ve been driving around with that expensive thing right there, ready to be stolen all this time?”

“I threw it in there that last night we went out and never wanted to see it again. I guess I forgot about it and kept piling other things on top of it,” he lowered his gaze to Leah’s face. “Like I was trying to bury the past.”

“And you randomly thought of it just now? That seems like a little too coincidental for me,” Leah crossed her arms over her chest.

“The truth is, I finally started cleaning out my car this week after my last date complained how messy it was. It just happened to be that today’s cleanup project was the glove compartment.”

The waiter reappeared with the check and set it down with a belligerent harrumph. Yoel Dovid quickly calculated the tip and signed it before turning back to his date.

“I figured that while I was in the city I’d take the ring to a pawn shop and get rid of it after my date was over.”

“I really can’t believe that, you know,” Leah winked slyly.

“That’s exactly what happened!” he exclaimed defensively. The outburst faded into silence, and neither one could manage the courage to look at the other. Swallowing hard, Yoel Dovid’s eyes lifted and focused on Leah’s.

“What do you say?” He asked, an edge of excitement creeping into his voice.

Leah hesitated and bit down on her lower lip. The fire in Yoel Dovid’s eyes began to fade.

“Yes. I’d like that.”

Yoel Dovid’s face lit up in the biggest grin Leah had ever seen.

Matisyahu To Join Maccabeats, Enroll At YU

While Jewlicious was the first to break the exciting news, Shades of Grey is proud to present an exclusive interview with the Jewish musical performer formerly known as Matisyahu, Mathew Miller, that tells the whole story behind his recent public transformation.

After the shocking revelation of the Twitter pics and accompanying note that brought the frum (religious Orthodox) world to its collective knees, many Jewish fans of Matisyahu can breath a sigh of relief.

Before: Matisyahu. After: Mathew Miller.
Image Source: AV Club.

No, Matisyahu, now Mathew Miller once again, has not gone "off the derech" (or OTD for short).

Nor did he, as Vos Iz Neias? incorrectly reported, use a razor blade to shave his beard - the usage of a straight razor for shaving is forbidden by Jewish law.

"I went out and bought a suitable electric shaver, just like every other observant Jewish man who shaves. I figured it was time for a change. It's clear to me now that my time in the spotlight as a Chassidic reggae/rapper is long past."

Miller attributes partial inspiration to the release of the Maccabeats' latest video, a cover of his marginally popular song/video from last year, "Miracle."

"The response they've generated vastly exceeds everything I had hoped for in my own version of 'Miracle,' especially with the charitable cause they are promoting. Some might want to say it's the unfortunate coincidence that I made the video at the same time 'Candlelight' dropped, but after some healthy self-introspection, I was able to step back and realize that everything is from the yad HaShem (hand of G-d)."

"It's clear as daylight that this has all been hashgacha pratis (divine influence) to guide me toward my new path in life."

Miller, who always dreamed of reaching out to disenfranchised and irreligious Jews in the hopes of bringing them closer to their heritage, claims that he has now realized how he can continue that goal, while remaining a public music figure and continuing to inspire the masses.

"You know, I'd just heard so much about the 'big tent' that [Yeshiva University] President Joel always talks about in his speeches. I began to realize that this was something I'd always yearned for, something that was always at the core of my musical message."

While many listeners initially found Miller's Matisyahu persona, complete with full beard, large velvet yarmulka, peyot (sidelocks) and tzitzit (ritual fringes) inspiring, Miller now thinks that some of these aspects have become a hindrance for attracting the attention of those potentially interested in exploring their Judaism.

"Not every Jew had a beard, and certainly not every Jew wears a velvet yarmulka. In some ways, these have become part of a uniform for a subculture within Judaism that I simply don't want to represent anymore. For a while, I was mislead into thinking that there was only 'one right way' to be Jewish. I now know that this is the farthest possible thing from the truth," Miller remarked poignantly as he adjusted the new knit yarmulka on his head.

In an effort to reconnect to the broader world of Torah-observant Judaism, Miller and his family have moved to Washington Heights, the upper Manhattan Neighborhood that houses Yeshiva University's Wilf Campus, where the male student body as well as the Rabbi Isaac Elachanan Theological Seminary is located.

In addition, Miller has enrolled at Yeshiva University's Philip and Sarah Belz School of Music, hoping to broaden his own appreciation and knowledge of the breadth of traditional Jewish music. He intends to split his time between learning in the new Glueck Beit Midrash, attending a variety of classes at the Belz School of Music, and working on what may be the most exciting development since his recent announcement: singing with the Maccabeats.

Miller, wearing his new Maccabeats outfit, sent Shades of Grey this exclusive photo.

"The Maccabeats have been very gracious to me in giving me the chance to become a part of their mission. I strongly believe in their efforts to spread the message of Torah Umadda (Torah and secular wisdom) to the world, engaging in both Torah study as well as the world at large. It's kind of funny that I was never really able to succinctly describe my 'weltanschauung' as the Rav (Soloveitchick) used to say, but since becoming closer to the guys in the group, I think I've found a new home."

The process of joining Yeshiva University's world famous Modern Orthodox A Capella group led Miller to decide to shave his beard and sidelocks.

"I don't want anyone to think that the Maccabeats have some sort of rigid dress code that required me to shave," Miller said. "Well, besides their white shirts and skinny black ties," he chuckled.

"At first, they told me I was fine just the way I was, without needing to alter my physical appearance one bit. It was entirely my decision to shed the outward expression of my former Chassidic persona."

Miller was very impressed with the Maccabeats' version of his own hit song, "One Day," which was their first music video venture back in 2010. With complete humility, Miller willingly agrees that their video for "Miracle" surpasses his original version.

The Maccabeats' take on "Miracle," which Miller says is better than his original.

"I was always a bit worried about how some people might view the scenes portrayed in 'Miracle.' And honestly, I think it turned out a little wacky in the end. The Maccabeats, along with their amazingly talented friend, Uri Westrich, have certainly elevated the stature of the song by pairing it with a video that is both engaging and meaningful, instead of all the strange X-mas imagery my director forced on me."

Having followed their career with great interest since the release of their "One Day," Miller was very moved by their High-Holidays themed "Book of Good Life." He claims that the message presented in the video moved him to perform a serious soul-searching that led him to where he finds himself today.

"I don't want to be remembered as that rabbi-guy brawling with Santa Claus in an ice-skating rink. I would much rather my legacy be more clean-cut, palatable, and appealing for a wider audience. I still have plenty of ideas and musical dreams, and now I will, G-d willing, be able to achieve them in the right environment and with the right musical group."

The original "Miracle" music video, which Miller now partially regrets.

When asked further about his plans at Yeshiva University, Miller is reluctant to plan too far ahead. He is not currently sure which morning shiur (lecture) he will join, but he is looking forward to becoming involved with the student body, including Rabbi Hershel Reichman's monthly Rosh Chodesh (new Jewish month) get-together, participating in the annual Chanukah Chagigah (celebration), and occasionally serving as prayer-leader at the Friday night Carlebach Minyan (prayer group).

"There are so many opportunities for me to positively influence the lives of students who may be struggling with their connection to Judaism as I have been these past few years. I hope to use my talents and music to inspire and increase the level of spirituality on campus."

There is, however, one thing that Miller already has had to contend with, even though he just relocated to Washington Heights a few days ago.

"President Joel won't stop calling, texting, and emailing me. We met before at last year's Chanukah concert, but now that I'm officially part of the YU community, he keeps asking me to include his trademark 'ennoble and enable' catchphrase in one of my forthcoming songs."

"I keep telling him 'one day,' if he's lucky," he concluded with a smile.

Shidduchim? There's An App For That!

Imagine if all it took to get a date would be opening an app on your phone, checking to see which guys/girls were available in the nearby vicinity, a few quick texts/first phone call, and you're off!

Apparently, this is a new thing that's catching on in the secular world. Check out this NY Times article called "With an App, Your Next Date Could Be Just Around the Corner."

Sounds interesting, right?

Of course, there are some potential issues which the article, and the makers of these apps, try to address, such as personal safety when you're meeting up with someone you've had next-to-no contact with. Users of the app seem to think highly of it, though they have some difficulty attempting to move past a mental/societal stigma that this sort of thing is geared toward hook-ups and one night stands.

They say the services allow them to skip the more elaborate mating rituals of standard online dating, which seems to move glacially in an era of text messaging and social networking.

“It can take a month to actually meet up with someone that you’re messaging online,” Ms. Wang said. Mobile services allow for a “quicker jump from virtual meetings to actually meeting.”

In my time as a shadchan, and as a dater, I know that it can take a long time to "officially" set up a date, and there is indeed a rush, because people frankly have limited time to devote to dating, especially in the fast-paced existence that we live in.

So is this sort of thing the way of the future for Jewish Orthodox dating, perhaps in more Modern/YU circles?

I tend to think we won't adopt this technology in the immediate future, particularly with our culture's obsession with resumes, fact finding, and research. Granted, everyone should try to find out something about the person who has been suggested to them, because no one wants to end up going out with a psycho who either wastes their time or puts them in danger of some sort.

However, I can see this catching on eventually, especially if it becomes more standard in secular society. We adapted the online dating model with J-Date and Future Simchas, then customized it further to be in-line with our shidduch values system with Saw You at Sinai and YU Connects - so if near-instant app dating becomes an accepted norm, I think it could happen.

Sure, you may say: "You're certifiably crazy Shades of Grey! Who in their right mind would try this or even find someone they would want to date or marry using an app that locates the nearest available singles of the opposite gender?"

I'll answer that question/exclamation with a story of my friend, who randomly met his wife while going on Yeshiva University's Torah Tours for Simchas Torah a few years ago, back when non-YU/Stern students could participate. In order to save time/gas, the CJF people running Torah Tours asked all the volunteers to coordinate rides with one another so that they could meet up and get to their communities together. My friend, along with another mutual friend, were told to pick up a girl who was assigned to their group and give her a ride to their destination. Of course, they gladly obliged - and she in fact lived one block over from his parents apartment.

I'm sure you can see where this is going. Over the course of Yom Tov they hit it off, began dating, and are now happily married with a young daughter. Too good to be true? They grew up within one block of one another and never encountered each other before! To make things spookier, upon showing his wife some old videos of us all hanging out together in Israel while we were in yeshiva, his not-yet-wife walked through the frame of one shot. Yes, they were in the exact same place, within 10-15 feet of one another and never even exchanged glances. Now they're married.

Yes, yes, you can tell me this is one more example of those crazy hashgacha pratis stories we all know and love (or hate), but hey, it happened! Imagine if we could input our own hishtadlus by making those nearby, but currently unnoticed connections sooner? Ultimately, how it works out will be in the hands of HaShem anyway, but why not "help" in anyway we can, k'v'yachol? Chazal tell us that even HaShem finds making shidduchim as hard as it was to split the Reed Sea when our ancestors left Mitzrayim, so why shouldn't we find every means of putting in our own effort?

For those who are scared of the idea of going on a date without sufficient research being conducted beforehand, I have a few ideas.

1) The dates necessarily won't be as instantaneous , but let's give a short window of opportunity, say an 1-2 hours, for the interested person, should he/she desire, to make a phone call or two.

2) If the system catches on, and we can create a network of references who "approve" the person, all you would have to do is check the list of registered references and see if there was anyone you know. The dater would have had to contact the person, invite them, we'll say, when they set up their mini-profile, and that individual has to reply and potentially be available for contact. Instead of having a few references, you could end up having a very long list - each categorized differently based on their personal connection to the dater - and odds are, you'll know someone on it, given how Jewish Geography works, especially if both of the daters live in close proximity.

3) For anyone who still wants a shadchan available - and ASoG and I have seen fewer people actually use us at all as intermediaries - those people could also be attached to the profile, "on call" as it were, for post-date follow ups and anything else that may need to be communicated, even a 1 and done reply.

I'll admit, the idea isn't perfect and would certainly require further thought and planning before YU Connects makes an app of their own like this. But with the increasingly fast-paced, time-crunched daily schedules we all deal with, perhaps this could be a new tool to be used in the never-ending quest to match up all the singles out there.

Commemorating Your "Own" Yartzeit

The experience of looking up on a memorial plaque during davening and noticing your own name, exactly matched in both Hebrew and English, with a little light bulb lit up next to it, along with and engraved date of death can be a little unsettling.

I knew my namesake's yartzeit was coming up soon, but the exact date slipped my mind amid all the busy running around from Yom Tov and delving back into work at grad school. I was genuinely surprised when I noticed the small light bulb glowing this morning after I finished Shemonah Esrei.

It's hard to describe the exact feeling that coursed through me, but chilling may have to do. Though I've heard many stories and learned various bits of information about the concept of gilgulim, or 'reincarnated' souls (for lack of a better term), I'm not 100% sure what I understand or believe. The notion of naming a child for a deceased relative, as is the Ashkenazi practice, seems to incorporate some aspect of gilgul, in addition to the more mundane belief of serving as a merit for the family member who has passed on and a living reminder of their legacy.

My great uncle - my paternal grandfather's older brother - though not a particularly religiously observant man, was a pediatrician, fought in World War II, and was one of the first white doctors in my hometown to treat minorities, often at reduced cost or for free. He was well known in the general community, in addition to the Jewish community, and I have often been "recognized" waiting in line at the pharmacy by an elderly person looked at me with a confused expression and informed me happily that my namesake was their pediatrician back in the day.

I was once at a local hospital signing in for a blood test when the nurse filling in my data suddenly stopped. She reread the information on the screen, turned to me, and asked if I was 90-something years old. I realized that the hospital had never properly declared my great-uncle dead, and quickly explained to her that I was indeed the 20-odd years I looked.

After noticing the lit bulb, I quickly walked over to a family friend, who is of my father's generation, and asked him if he would say kaddish for my great-uncle, who was this man's own pediatrician in his childhood. I figured it would be more meaningful than asking the fellow sitting next to me, who could say kaddish since his parents have passed away, merely out of convenience. The family friend graciously agreed.

I stood nearby whenever he recited the kaddish, and sensed some strange aura of fulfillment answering him. I have no idea, even if the concept of gilgul is readily applicable in our day and age, if there was some aspect of my neshama responding to the kaddish being said for my namesake. It certainly felt something akin to what I just described, but who can know for sure?

I can only hope that my own actions, including my study of Torah and observance of mitzvos, which exceed the level of religious practice of my great-uncle, can serve as an aliyah for his neshama in the Olam HaEmes.

Life Is Hard - But Not As Bad As That Guy

I'm been pondering something and I want to get the readers' opinions. Hopefully this will turn into a meaningful discussion.

Everyone has tzaros (difficulties) in life, and no one really understands how hard/bad it may be for another person unless we've been "in their shoes" and experienced the exact same thing, such as, lo aleinu, the death of a parent, broken engagement, life-threatening illness/injury, etc. And even then, circumstances are never exactly the same, so while there may be some similarity and identification/empathy, everyone's experiences are still unique.

It doesn't really serve us well to compare ourselves to people we know, especially in areas where they find success and we struggle. We can become jealous, and the relationship can fester in many vile ways as we attempt to regain some positive self-worth belief in ourselves.

But what about the flip side of the coin?

I have a friend I've known since high school, but haven't really seen in a long time, and they happened to friend me on Facebook right after I joined during my first year at YU. We don't really ever interact, but I've noticed consistently from their status updates/notes in the past several years that their life seems to always be falling apart due one disaster after another on a fairly regular basis. Some crises are brought on by obviously bad decisions that could have been avoided and others unexpected and uncontrolled. I often wonder why they won't ever learn from their mistakes, whether it is related to relationships, family, school or otherwise - and I also feel bad for the suffering they experience, regardless if it is self-fulfilled or not.

There really isn't anything I can do for the person - and I've tried to contact them on an occasion or two, but nothing can be accomplished. They also live far away and have basically cut themselves off from the Jewish community they grew up in and their family. So here I am, watching this train wreck go on and on - and on and on - and I can only feel pity for them.

In times when I think I'm having a bad day, when school is tough, my learning isn't so good, I wake up late for davening, or procrastinate too much on my work (or anything else you can think of), I am often confronted with another one of this friend's disastrous life events as soon as I sign onto Facebook. I immediately take a mental step back and think to myself, "Wow, my life really isn't so bad after all." I will think about the abundance of brachos that HaShem has showered upon ASoG and I and feel how truly fortunate we are in the major areas in life, realizing that the things that are "bad" are actually pretty insignificant in the overall big picture.

But is this a proper thing to do?

I'm not aggrandizing myself over my forlorn friend, like pointing and haughtily turning my nose up at the guy who came 20 minutes late to Shacharis when I arrived 15 minutes late, thinking "I still beat that guy, look how late he got here!" That's obviously a tactic of the yetzer hara to get us accustomed to our improper practices by making us feel better because we've put someone down.

I don't look at this person and say to myself, "Boy, at least I never made that mistake! How stupid are they?" I just read these sad stories and turn inward, recognizing the Yad HaShem and the gifts I'm given on a daily basis.

While the end result, which I feel is a proper mussar lesson - being thankful for all the HaShem has given me while being uplifted when I'm troubled - I feel like I got there by taking a dirty alleyway. Instead of reading a mussar sefer, I hear about this nebach person and receive inspiration, which just feels wrong.

So, what do you think?

Chag Sameach... Today? Tomorrow?

Chag Sameach... sort of!

Yes, while today is the 5th of Iyar, the true calendarical date of the declaration of the creation of the modern State of Israel, the commemoration, starting with Yom HaZikaron, were pushed on a day, in consideration of preventing chilul Shabbos in preparation for any Yom HaZikaron events taking place on Motzei Shabbos.

Last year I was unaware of the day-shifting and accidentally said tachanun on the 5th of Iyar. I'm am happy to report that I didn't make the same mistake again this morning, since my chevrusa thankfully reminded me of pushing-off last night. Further, the gabbai of the minyan where I davened Shacharis knocked on the bima and continued from chazaras hashatz to the layning, skipping over tachanun. There was no hallel said, though it was announced they would say hallel without a bracha tomorrow, the celebrated day of Yom Ha'atzma'ut.

I wrote at length about my views on Yom Ha'atzma'ut last year - please check it out if you have a chance. I don't have too much to add, but I wanted to point out a few things.

First off, everyone should read Rabbi Maryle's post on Emes Ve-Emunah on the subject of hakaras hatov on Yom Ha'atzma'ut, which I think is a great, very well written piece.

Second, Aish.com has created a great lip-sync video for K'naan's song "Wavin' Flag," which is fantastic (the video contains music):



Back to my own additional chiddush for this year. Related to an idea I that dawned on me during my Yom Hashoah-inspired meditations in my Ma'ariv Shemonah Esrei (see the bottom), I had a bit of a revelation during Shacharis this morning.

I was looking for some personal insight to make my davening more meaningful instead of being another wrote repetition of prayers I had said many times before - this is a particular point I've been working on more since that greatly influential Ma'ariv Shemonah Esrei. While reciting the bracha of Teka B'Shofar Gadol it hit me.

In this particular bracha, we ask for HaShem to have the great shofar sounded, the one which will herald the arrival of Moshiach and the beginning of the Messianic Age of world peace along with the rebuilding of the Beis Hamikdash. Though we have yet to hear this great and powerful shofar blast heralding Moshiach's imminent revelation, I do think that the rest of the bracha has (at least) begun to materialize in the last 63 years.

We ask HaShem to raise the neis (banner/flag) that will be the sign to gather in our exiled brethren. We request that HaShem will then gather all of these dispersed Jews from the four corners of the Earth, and conclude with bracha that declares HaShem's role as the One who gathers the dispersed ones of His nation Yisrael.

Pausing to think about the words composed by Chazal centuries ago, I couldn't help but envision the Israeli flag as a fulfillment of this longed for prayer:

(Picture courtesy of Wikimedia)

We have literally seen Jews from all over the world return to their homeland. On this point, I don't care whether it was motivated by religious conviction, secular philosophy, government invervention (IE for Russian and Ethiopian Jews), getting kicked out by Arabs from their homes, or any other reason anyone has had to go home. It is abundantly clear to me that the Yad HaShem has been at work, and we are finally seeing movements at work which will lead to the Messianic era when all Jews will live in their homeland and world peace will reign supreme.

Yes, Israel isn't perfect. We can all understand that, even the most ardent Zionists out there. There is no reason any Jew living today should not commemorate the founding of the state in some fashion - to each his/her own in terms of level of celebration and expression.

May we celebrate many more commemorations of Yom Ha'atzma'ut, may those celebrations be eclipsed by the celebrations that will take place when the final geulah will be complete, and we can all join together as one nation saying Hallel in the Beis Hamikdash for the great wonders HaShem has done for us.

Some Thoughts For Yom Hashoah 5771

Update (5/19/11):
Rebbetzin Jungreis' website, Hineni has posted an excerpt from this piece.

Also, Yeshiva University has posted the entire program on youtube.

Be forewarned, this is a long, very heartfelt post.

I’ve never had any real connection to the Holocaust. Thank G-d, my great grandparents on both sides of my family came to America after World War I and before the insanity of World War II began. Both sets of my grandparents were born in my hometown, and even my extended relatives who themselves had accents or were originally from the “old country” safely reached American shores before the flames engulfed Europe.

Sure, we always had a Holocaust memorial program at the local JCC. My day school participated in a literature/art contest sponsored by the JCC, with prizes going to the top paintings, drawings, poems and short stories written by local students. I even won first place in the poetry division when I was in 5^th grade. I remember being so bone-rattling nervous when I had to ascend the stage in the large auditorium and read my poem from the lectern. I wish I had a copy of the poem accessible, because I would love to take a glimpse into what my little 10-11 year old mine grasped of the horrific magnitude of the European churban.

Though I forget the title, I do remember it was written from the perspective of a little boy (such as I was at that time), reciting a list of his many relatives, probably ten or twelve, and how they met their death at the hands of the wicked Nazis; from the ghetto to the train to the concentration camps themselves and everywhere along the way during the fateful and fatal process. However, I distinctly remember the conclusion, which spoke of the boy’s need to remember all their names and stories, since he was the last remaining member of his family. The ending depicted the determined little boy pledging to live to carry on the memories of those he lost, because if he did not survive: “Who would remember… for me?”

Last night, ASoG and I attended Yeshiva University’s Yom Hashoah 5571 program, which featured Rebbetzin Esther Jungreis as the keynote speaker. The event was held in Lamport Auditorium (the same venue that houses the Chanukah concert and Yom HaZikaron/Yom Ha’atzma’ut ceremony). As I expected, every seat in the room was filled. I don’t think I attended any of the other Yom Hashoah programs from the past years that I’ve attended YU, which have primarily been on a smaller scale, but I am truly glad and grateful that I was able to attend this one.

In short, it was perhaps the most inspiring hour and forty five minutes of my life.

It takes a lot to say such cliché things, and most people tend to over-emphasize a number of relatively unimportant moments they’ve experienced, or rack up a list of such moments, each replacing the last as the superficiality of the previous event becomes apparent in light of the more recent, seemingly more meaningful one, which will also be replaced in time.

I spent two years in yeshiva in Israel, davened at the kotel more times than I can remember, davened vasikin at the graves of our forefathers and mothers at Ma’aras Hamachpela, and heard divrei Torah from many of our gedolim. I unfortunately did not attend my yeshiva’s trip to Poland, in shana aleph because ym parents didn’t let me, and in shana bet because I wanted to focus on my learning, a decision I greatly regret now. Even with all the inspirational experiences I did have, I really have to say that last night meant more to me, and put so much of my life into perspective and more meaning to my personal struggles in the past and present than any of those previous significant experiences. One could argue that it may very well be circumstantial, since I am now far more learned, experienced, and understand more of Judaism, Torah, and my relationship with HaShem because of those moments, each of which built upon the other. Only at this moment, having advanced so far in my journey within the realm of Judaism, beginning from my involved traditional background until now where I have been learning in yeshiva in some form for the past 7 years of my life, could I absorb the words, music, and lessons I heard last night.

Or, one could say that my benefit from last night’s event was not at all circumstantial, but part of a deliberate process that has prepared me for the moment that I sat down in my seat, which lead me to wish the program wouldn’t end, and concluded with the most inspired Ma’ariv I’ve ever davened in my life.

As I mentioned before, I’ve attended numerous Yom Hashoah programs in the past, but they have not have been as impactful as last night. Perhaps this can be attributed to the atmosphere that pervaded Lamport Auditorium. Once the first speaker took the podium and announced the American National Anthem, right on through the following presentations, readings, Maccabeats performances, Rebbetzin Esther Jungreis’ soul-stirring words, the unified togetherness of singing “Ani Ma’amin” with an entire room full of hundreds of people of all ages, to the very last verse of Hatikva at the end – the entire room was focused, respectful, and aware of the significance of the moment. I personally didn’t hear any talking among the audience, it was as though every single person truly understand what it meant to be there, and no one allowed his/her attention to stray. Or maybe it was just my own personal feelings of inspiration that blocked out the world.

At any rate, what permeated this particular Yom Hashoah program was the centrality of Torah, how we have survived because of our adherence to Mitzvah observance and that we must increase our dedication to serving G-d in order to perpetuate the memory of those who gave their lives al kiddush HaShem. Every other Yom Hashoah program, while it may have featured an opening and closing convocation from a local rabbi (Orthodox and otherwise), did not embody the Torah perspective and how being Torah observant is synonymous with being Jewish. I always felt a distinct sense of emptiness when attending those events, and now I know exactly why. It is certainly nice, and appropriate for non-observant Jews to do their part to remember the tragedy of the Holocaust, but to not put it into the proper context leaves something very much lacking.

At the start of the program, the Maccabeats’ rendition of the American National Anthem put our current lives into perspective, as the student introducing them reminded us how appropriate it was for us to sing it at this time. I initially thought he was referring to the death of Osama bin Laden (a topic which probably deserves its own post), but I suddenly realized he was referring to where we were, as Jews, in a nation that has unprecedented levels of tolerance and acceptance for Jews, where we have made ourselves at home and been allowed to freely practice our religion, flourish as a religiously observant, and sadly, to assimilate without retributive persecution – all quite unlike the 6 million of our brothers and sisters we were there to remember.

Rabbi Blau’s recitation of Yizkor, a prayer that I admit I am quite unfamiliar with – though I am pretty sure it was modified to include all the references to the victims of the Holocaust instead of containing the mention of deceased relatives as the standard version said on Yom Tov has. The magnitude of our loss really hit me when I heard Rabbi Blau recite several different numeric terms that eventually added up to six million (I forget the exact terminology), which made me realize that Biblical Hebrew doesn’t even have a word for “million.” It was almost a literal expression of our loss of words for the enormity of loss of life we suffered at the hands of the wicked Nazis. This was in distinction to Rabbi Reiss’ recitation of Kel Maleh Rachamim toward the end of the program, wherein he used the term “million’a” as well as other more modern Hebrew words, which I thought was a nice transition into the singing of Hatikvah – a song that stirs within us gratitude for our homeland and the potential it brings us.

The video presentation was, for me, almost a seder-like experience of reliving the suffering of our European brethren. It started off talking about the wonderful life the Jews had before the rise of the Nazi regime, how they were well integrated, accepted, wealthy, happy, content, and hopeful for a better future (in contrast to the violent past such as the inquisitions, crusades, pogroms, etc that plagued us). Yet, that all came crashing down in a nightmare of unparalleled proportions with a death machine unmatched by anything the world has seen before or since. It also made me realize how much of a joke it is to compare Israel’s treatment of Palestinians to the Nazi concentration camps. When was the last time Arabs living in the West Bank were forced to wear crescents of Islam on their shirts to be identified on the streets, crowded like animals into cattle cars for weeklong journeys without food and water, or sent up in smoke after being gassed like vermin? It makes me sick thinking about the liberal self-hating Jews who betray their own people by adding to the ridiculous propaganda out there spread by other ignoramuses in the international media. But, I digress.

Watching and hearing the Maccabeats perform “Habet” chilled me to the core. They silently lined up on stage for each song, sang their hearts out to a hushed audience, and then returned to their seats without a single clap. Granted, it was probably very inappropriate to do so at that time, but the fact that everyone complied with that unspoken sentiment was moving. Music truly is the language of the soul, and mine was soaring each time they granted us the opportunity to appreciate the solemnity of the occasion through their beautiful vocal arrangements. I’ve always found the song “Habet,” particularly the version the Maccabeats sang, which is from Aish, to truly represent the core of that particular tefillah which we say during tachanun. We remind HaShem to pay attention to how we are slaughtered like sheep, how we endure indescribable suffering and death, because of our belief in Him – and yet, we do not forget Him and His Holy Name. We beg Him, in turn, not to forget us. It’s one of the most powerful prayers ever composed, in my very humble and unimportant opinion.

“Habet,” along with “Last Night,” “Hatikvah” and the prayers said by Rabbi Blau and Rabbi Reiss struck a chord with me. Often with Jewish music, I sometimes pay more attention to the music itself, unintentionally ignoring the words and their meaning. By allowing myself to become absorbed in the music while remaining very aware of the translation of the Hebrew words in my head, I understood a huge difference between our prayers and those of our enemies, such as the ones we see quoted in the papers all the time as absurd sound bites from radical, militaristic, Islamist terrorists. They always talk of needing to kill others, take bloody revenge against devils, and of course the fulfillment of their boasts leads to the loss of innocent life. They praise murderers, create mythic stories about sordid individuals who committed suicide or died in a gun battle after slaughtering innocents, including children – sometimes hundreds or thousands of people who had no reason to deserve such horrible ways to end their lives.

On the total opposite end of the spectrum, l’havdil eleph alphei havdalos, are our prayers. We turn to G-d with our raw pain for the loss of innocent life, true martyrs whose only reason they died was because of their unwavering faith, or often in spite of what faith they may claim not to have, but merely because they are identified as coming from His people, Am Yisrael. We ask that their memory not be forgotten, and that G-d Himself, the True Arbiter of justice, the only One who can dispense reward and punishment with the utmost sense of righteousness, strike the wicked down, removing such cancers from our world. We don’t vow revenge and take innocent life in senseless acts of hatred – because we are better than that, because our tradition tells us so, and our G-d is indescribably just. I’ll elaborate a further on this point a little later.

The student speaker, Josh Abramson, shared stories from his own experience visiting concentration camps with his yeshiva, Torat Shraga, and moving interactions he’s had with survivors. For example, the man who survived the war and chose to continue to live in Poland, who Josh met while davening in his shul. The man worked in the kitchen at the concentration camp he was interred at, and risked his life to steal extra food to give to his friends. Josh recalled that his fellow students asked the man two questions 1) Why did he risk his life with these heroic acts to feed others, to which he replied that it was the simply the right thing to do. 2) Why does he remain in Poland, after all that’s happened – and he answered that just like when you hurt the tip of your finger, you don’t say “well, the rest of my body feel s fine, so I can ignore it,” so too you can’t ignore the few Jews who could not leave Poland after the war – it was important enough to remain in hostile Poland to take care of those unfortunate individuals. Josh concluded by remembering from his journal he kept during the trip, that although he felt it difficult to daven Ma’ariv in the Auschwitz camp, that night davening behind the old man, watching his utter concentration, was by contrast, sweet.

Josh also recalled meeting a survivor when he was learning aloud by himself in a shul in Hartford, Connecticut. The man, with sleeves rolled up to reveal the number tattooed on his arm, asked what tractate he was studying, and Josh told him Bava Basra. The man said he remembered studying that one when he was even younger than Josh, and recalled it was difficult. He then sighed, saying he could no longer learn because his eyesight was weak and he couldn’t think so well anymore. But, he added with a bit of cheer in his voice, that it was wonderful to see a young man like Josh learning. He asked if Josh knew Yiddish, which he said he did not, so the man told him a phrase and translated it into English for Josh. I forget the exact Yiddish wording, but it meant “Learning is light, silence is darkness.” For Josh, this helped inspire him to new levels of dedication to his Torah studies.

These stories certainly put my own struggles with learning and davening into perspective, and I hope I can approach both with renewed vigor and dedication.

Before last night, I had never heard Rebbetzin Jungreis speak before. I read her book on marriage and noticed a relative watching her on cable TV once or twice. When I read her biography in the program, and saw that she was born in 1930, it made me realize the sheer spiritual power this small 81-year-old woman has. She mentioned how so many of her fellow survivors are either gone or have become weak, and reminded us that it will be within our generation that the remaining survivors will breath their last – placing upon us an extremely heavy burden to pass on their stories and memories into the future, for our children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.

I always remember seeing the handful of older men and women march down the center aisle in our local JCC auditorium to light the candles of remembrance at the front dais to begin the Yom Hashoah program. I also remember how each year that group grew smaller, and the list of survivors who lived in our community but had passed on grew longer each year. I remember a particular older man who used to daven as the chazen in our shul when he had yartzeit (for which of his relatives, I never knew) and the purity and beauty of his accented Hebrew pronunciation. I also remember presiding over the minyan at his house when his wife and daughter were sitting shiva for him. They weren’t particularly religious folks, but I personally organized the nightly mincha/ma’ariv minyan there – where my father or another man said kaddish for the recently deceased, and I led the learning of mishnayos from Mikvaos. Years later, the man’s daughter approached me when she visited my hometown and thanked me – though I honestly didn’t think much of my actions at the time, just that it was something that needed to be done.

It will be a truly tragic day when the last survivor leaves this world – may that day be many years from now – but it is a great responsibility I honestly had never thought about in earnest. It makes me want to truly get to know ASoG’s paternal grandparents, my new Bubbe and Zaide, as well as her maternal great uncle and aunt (may they all live and be well) so that I may be a part of their legacy and have the opportunity to teach my own future children and grandchildren when they will no longer be around to do so themselves.

Rebbetzin Jungreis stood the entire time she spoke leaning lightly on a nearby table, her accented English pulling hard on my heartstrings as her frail yet strong presence filled center stage and radiated outward to every member of the audience. She is such an incredible woman. She told us about her story, growing up the as part of a great rabbinic dynasty, and now living as the sole granddaughter of her illustrious grandfather. She told us about her father, who was the rabbi of Szeged, Hungary, the city she was born in, where he came to do kiruv with the largely unaffiliated and acculturated Jewish populace. She told us how he risked his life to smuggle a pair of tefillin with him when they were evicted from their home by the Nazis, and how hundreds of Jewish men in turn risked their own lives to be able to say the brachos and don the tefillin themselves.

She told us how her father saved up to illegally obtain a shofar for Rosh Hashana, which they somehow managed to blow without being caught and killed. The Hungarian camp where they were kept prisoner was next to the Polish camp, and the Polish Jews ran to the barbed wire to hear the sound of the shofar to be able to make the bracha, in spite of the beatings they received shortly thereafter. Rebbetzin Jungreis then recounted how she told that story while in Israel many years later. A woman came over to her and informed the Rebbetzin that her father’s shofar was somehow later smuggled into the Polish camp in a garbage can where her own father, the rabbi of the Polish camp, managed to blow the shofar for the Polish prisoners. She then excitedly said that she actually had the shofar in her home a few streets away, which she ran to get. Hearing Rebbetzin Jungreis describe how seeing that shofar sent them back to the time they were little girls, children of the ashes and fire, clutching that shofar used in Bergen-Belsen.

She recounted another story of an American Rabbi who was an army chaplain that helped liberate a concentration camp, and approached a prisoner, greeting him in Yiddish and telling him he was a rabbi. The man replied he wasn’t interested, and the chaplain inquired why. The man, clearly outraged, explained that there was a particular fellow in the camp who had smuggled in a siddur, and charged others their piece of bread to use it to pray. The chaplain asked if, indeed, other men actually gave up their bread, perhaps their last piece, necessary to sustain their very lives, to use the prayer book. The man responded yes. The rabbi was amazed, marveling how far the Jewish prisoners went, to give away the very food that should be in their mouths, to instead fill their mouths will praises for G-d.

Perhaps the most striking story Rebbetzin Jungreis told us was how her father would utilize his ration of bread. He would say hamotzi and consume a very small portion, and bentsch anyway, in spite of the fact that it was not nearly enough to truly satisfy him, as the posuk commands us. For him, it was satisfying enough to praise his Creator. Additionally, Rabbi Jungreis would save pieces of bread for Shabbos. He would gather his children together and tell them to close their eyes, then tell them they were in their beautiful Shabbos home. He told them that their mother had baked delicious challah for them, and then pass out the stale, almost inedible bread to each of his children and they would sing Shalom Aleichem together. Rebbetzin Jungreis’ younger brother once asked very innocently where the Shabbos malachim were, since he didn’t see any in the camp. Rabbi Jungreis replied, with tears in his eyes, that they, his children, were the Shabbos angels. Rebbetzin Jungreis recalled how the Nazis once lined them up for an inspection, calling them “Jewish pigs.” She replied that they were, in fact “Shabbos malachim.”

I’ll never forget Rebbetzin Jungreis’ parting message, in which she described how fortunate we are to have Israel, and how we can look forward to the final redemption with the arrival of the moshiach (may he come speedily within our days). She grasped one of the unlit memorial candles and gestured with it for emphasis. Those candles were merely symbolic, but the true flame of remembrance is inside each of us – and we must pass on our Jewish legacy to keep those candles burning.

The very last words she spoke, which I think say it all in a way that nothing else can were “Am Yisrael Chai.”

The lighting of the six memorial candles was also moving. The first was lit by an elderly gentleman who was a survivor. The second by was kindled by Rav Reichman, who read a quotation from a Jewish man in a concentration camp that spoke about how he joined a small group next to a barrack to daven Kabbalas Shabbos one Friday evening – and how it literally transformed him, allowing him to leave behind the suffering he had experience and find inner peace in welcoming the Shabbos queen. I hope I can always value my own Kabbalas Shabbos experiences at a level similar to that. We are obligated to enter Shabbos forgetting the work from the week we have yet to finish, but this man was able to cast aside his burden of pain and misery and welcome the Shabbos with joy – a truly inspiring sentiment. The other candles were lit by students and YU alumni who also read passages from various Holocaust writings.

Ending the program with "Hatikvah" really underscored how significant our revived homeland is, and how Rebbetzin Jungreis told us that it is absolutely no coincidence that this week of Yom Hashoah we are going to enter the month Iyar, which contains Yom Ha’atzma’ut and Yom Yerushlayim – signs that HaShem is keeping His promises to bring us back and restore us to our proper place in our homeland.

After the event was over, I quickly ran to join the Ma’ariv minyan held in the old main Beis Midrash. I don’t think I’ve ever davened a more meaningful Ma’ariv in my life. I read every single word from my siddur, focusing on the translation of each word, pausing to give reflection to what was issuing from my mouth. I didn’t say anything by heart or at a quickened pace. I was able to keep up with the chazan during the Shema and its accompanying brachos, but my Shemonah Esrai, along with my Sefiras Ha’Omer and Aleinu extended long enough until I was the last one in the room.

I read each tefilla, especially each bracha of the Shemonah Esrei, from the perspective of what a Holocaust Survivor might see when he or she davens.

In Avos I saw why they believed in G-d in the first place, because of our forefathers. They were the living legacy of what began all those centuries ago, and it was worth suffering and perhaps even dying for the sake of protecting and preserving that history and mission. G-d created all, remembers His promises to our forefathers, and brings redemption with love, but in the meantime He will still be the personal shield of the children of the Avos, never abandoning them.

In the Mechaye Meisim I saw how they firmly believed that G-d would bring their holy martyred loved ones back, and keep the faith to those in the dust, not only the dead who are buried there, but the survivors who dwelled their while in the camps. How HaShem is the one who heals the sick and supports the fallen, and releases the imprisoned an existence that they recognized every day of their lives and a hope they longed for. Who is truly comparable to G-d? He is the One and only who has power over life and death - and resurrection - not the arrogant humans who slaughter their fellow man with impugnity.

I saw in Atah Kadosh that they recognized the inherent holiness of G-d, and in of themselves as they continued to praise him every day in spite of their difficulties.

I saw in Atah Chonen L’Adam Da’as how they struggled to understand what was happening to them, but trusted in G-d’s wisdom, even though man’s limited intellect can never know everything.

I saw in Hashiveinu the outpourings of their hearts to be drawn toward Torah and Mitzvos, in spite of the blows to their emunah from their personal suffering. Though they may have had to forego certain observances, or in fact most or all of the mitzvos because of their inability to do so, they yearned for the opportunity to freely perform them again.

I saw in S'lach Lanu an outcry for forgiveness for whatever transgressions were done that could have possibly lead to this horrible punishment, and even though they continue to suffer for reasons beyond their understanding, they knew, deep down, that HaShem would always forgive them and welcome them back with His abundant patient and forgiveness.

I saw in Re’eh V’anyenu their pleases for redemption from their servitude and for G-d to recognize the torments they endured for Him. Their groans and cries of pain should come to an end through the geulah brought in the way only HaShem can.

I saw in Refa’enu how they knew G-d could and would heal them of their ailments that they suffered because of neglect at the hands of the Nazis. When the vile doctors in the camps betrayed their responsibility to heal, they turned to the One who is the Healer of all and can indeed cure any illness.

I saw in Barech Aleinu their hopes that despite the fact that they’ve been in ghettos or camps for several years, that this year should have blessing and goodness for them. They yearned to find the bracha in their everyday lives, even in the hellish conditions in which they lived.

Teka B’Shofar Gadol was a plea for their ears to hear the sweet sound of that final, world-wide shofar blast, which will herald the arrival of the Moshiach and their salvation. All the dispersed Jews, especially those not physically distanced from one another, but collected together in the camps, should be collected from the four corners of the Earth and be able to proudly raise the banner of their redemption.

I saw in Hashiva Shofteinu a desire to re-establish our batei dinim, to ensure the proper carrying out of justice, not only in our community, but in the whole world – that righteous judgment will prevail over twisted dictatorships and persecution. G-d is the True King, who is utterly rightous and loves justice. They trusted He would condemn those who deserved harsh judgement, and exonerate His chosen people.

I saw in V’lamalshinim a plea that that all wickedness be removed from the earth, and that any Jews who are willing sinners not be destroyed as the Gemara in Brachos says, but that they have their sinful natures destroyed so that they may be whole again in serving HaShem.

I saw in Al Hatzadikim a heartful prayer on behalf of the rabbis and other spiritual leaders and holy ones who dedicated themselves to serving G-d above all while teaching and inspiring their fellow Jews around them, and that their righteous deeds not go unnoticed amidst the horrifying environment they found themselves in. They asked to have their portion placed with these righteous individuals - who were often the poster stereotypes of insults found in Nazi propaganda - and instead of being embarrassed as our enemies desired, they were profoundly proud of their rabbis and leaders and desired to be like them.

I saw in V’liyerushalayim a great yearning for G-d’s capital to be rebuilt, and for us to return to the homeland we so desperately miss and long for, a true fulfillment of Zionist dreams. They didn't believe in this because of potentially misleading man-made, philosophies because He Himself said told us.

In Es Tzemach Dovid I felt their anticipation that they would hear the sound of a lone man’s footsteps as he arrived to bring geulah instead of the thumping of soldiers’ boots to take them away from their homes and family. They longed for true salvation to sprout, and I'm quite certain the phrase "For we hope for Your salvation all the day" applied more literally to the prisoners of the camps than perhaps anyone else in our history.

Shema Koleinu was a summation of their heartfelt cries – a call to HaShem to please hear us, and don’t leave us empty handed for all we have endured for You. They were His loyal servants, and the benevolent, merciful King always extends Himself in an expression of His Essence to his people.

Ritzei asked for the rebuilding of the Beis HaMikdash, ushering in an era when we can truly serve HaShem completely, as His Torah commands us – and also that in the meantime HaShem accept the multitudes of korbanos forcibly offered each day as His children are burned on hideously perverted “altars” with corrupt priests who do not serve Him.

In Modim, I saw them giving their thanks for all the things G-d gave them every day, for their very lives which they entrust entirely to G-d’s Hands, their souls held ever so dearly in His embrace. Each and every wonder and good they saw and experienced, evening, morning, and afternoon – often at times when they didn’t know if they would live to see the next morning, afternoon, or night – and still they had thanks and praise to offer to Him. We don’t often see the miracles and wonders G-d does for us every day, but I’m absolutely certain they understood this sentiment far more acutely than we ever will. They knew G-d's mercy is unending, and that is why they would forever hope to Him - there was simply no reason their torturers could muster that would force the Jews to give up hope.

Shalom Rav begged HaShem for true peace to be placed upon His people – now and forevermore, because in spite of all the war, suffering, torture, and death – they knew that only He was the King and Lord of all Peace – who can bless his people with an everlasting peace at each and every moment. As a summary to the personal amida, we end with the heartfelt cry for peace, not vengeance, and as the concluding Yehi Ratzon mentions – that G-d establish renew us as in times of old.

Elokai Netzor asked that they be allowed to humble themselves metaphorically like the dust, and not become literally dust in the crematoriums. In spite of everything they most desired for G-d to open their hearts - perhaps even forcibly, if necessary - to His Torah so that their souls may be free to perform His precious mitzvos. As for the plans of their enemies - they should be nullified and forgotten, because their adversaries could not, and would not endure as Am Yisrael has always endured and will always endure. They begged HaShem to act, not for their own sake, but for His own and for His Torah, because that's what's truly important - the eternity of G-d's presence and His Torah in this world, not out of concern for their own selves. The real reason they would merit salvation would be to continue in their lifelong purpose of perpetuating the wisdom of G-d, dutifully serving Him, and becoming a light unto the nations of the world who seem to have forgotten these most important things.

I recognized and experienced similar revelations with Sefiras Ha’Omer and Aleinu as well – I thought thoughts of thanks for being able to say the bracha and perform the mitzvah unburdened by the horrors the survivors suffered. I sang Anah B’Koach to myself, hoping that the Knower of all secrets would not turn aside our supplications. I said Aleinu slowly and carefully, realizing that Judaism is distinct from the other monotheistic religions in that we want the entire world to truly knew G-d without us having to force anyone to become Jewish. The nations of the world will realize, when the time is right, who the Master of the Universe is, and willingly acknowledge what we have done for them throughout history, and how they’ve mistreated us. All mankind will live as one peaceful society, without any murderous barbarians taking innocent lives in the name of their bloodthirsty beliefs. Then, we will know peace, and the world will know G-d.

I hope I can keep these feelings and lessons in my mind and heart for the rest of my life so that I always benefit from what I have learned and that I may pass it on to others, especially future generations.

For those of you who have read this long post to the very end, I salute your endurance and thank you. I hope that you will benefit from reading this and perhaps re-reading it, as I hope that I will.

May we learn the lessons of the Holocaust, never forget, and may that day of eternal peace and a world full of the recognition and knowledge of G-d be one day soon. Amein, kein yehi ratzon.

Am Yisrael Chai - Od Avinu Chai.