Showing posts with label Chasidut. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chasidut. Show all posts

Sunday, January 31, 2010

Aseh Lecha Rav: Vus Meint a Rebbe?


In Pirkei Avos, R' Yehoshua Ben Perachia says the famous line, "aseh lecha rav" ("Make a teacher for yourself"). This line forms a strong part of Jewish life, as each Jew is required to accept the authority and guidance of a particular rav/rabbi. In doing this, the individual connects himself to the long line of Torah, all the way back to Moshe Rabbeinu (Moses) himself. The Rambam and Rav Chaim Volozhiner are both of the opinion that one should accept a rav even if the only rav available is less learned than the student accepting this rav. Each group within Orthodoxy has a different approach to the concept of having a personal rav, with Chasidism accomplishing this through the rav/rebbe balance.

Throughout the development and lifetime of Chasidic Judaism, Chasidim have been led by a manhig (leader) who traces his leadership back to talmidim (students) of the Baal Shem Tov, who established the Chasidic movement. Early on in the history of Chasidism, the Chasidic rabbi of each town became the "rebbe" (spiritual teacher) of the particular Chasidim in his town, and the position of rebbe would then be passed on to his nearest available male heir upon his death. For those people who attached themselves to the Chasidic movement in general, and a particular style of Chasidism through a particular rebbe, their leader was determined by heredity. Eventually, as certain Chasidic leaders grew in popularity, people living far away from a rebbe began to become his Chasidim. As this happened, they would still look to the rebbe for spiritual inspiration, but would have a secondary person nearby to serve their immediate needs and questions, and to give general guidance: the rav. Today, as many Chasidic groups are rather large, giving the individual person little connection to his rebbe, and a few Chasidic groups no longer have a living rebbe, the role of a personal rav has become even more central to Chasidic life. A rebbe today is a tzadik (intensely righteous person) upon whose wings you fly spiritually, through inspiration, and a rav is the everyday person who takes a personal role in your life, being able to give you guidance in particular areas of difficulty.

While this has become the general picture of what a rebbe does in the lives of Chasidic Jews, this has not been the case with all forms of Chasidism. Because most of the rebbes and Chasidim who survived the war were from Hungary and Galiczia (southeastern Poland/western Ukraine), this has become the idea of what the word "rebbe" means. However, Chasidic groups that grew out of the teachings of the rebbes of Peshis'cha (mostly form central Poland) have an altogether different view of a rebbe.


The Peshis'cha Chasidic philosophy began with the Holy Jew (Reb Yaakov Yitzchok Rabinowitz), a student of the Chozeh (Seer) of Lublin. The Chozeh of Lublin was known for his complete humility, constantly requesting that his thousands of Chasidim not follow him as he was not worthy to have such followers, which actually drew more and more people to follow him. His student the Holy Jew, dedicated to the Chozeh's teachings of humility and simplicity, was succeeded by his student Reb Simcha Bunim ztvk"l. Reb Simcha Bunim was the rebbe that popularized what has become the Peshis'cha philosophy of Chasidism. His teachings, which drew much criticism from other Chasidic leaders of the time, emphasized personal individuality over blindly following a rebbe, as each person has unique needs and is given a unique task in this world. He added this to the Holy Jew's important value of knowing oneself, and only being able to contemplate the greater world through intellect and understanding gained through deep personal introspection. For Reb Simcha Bunim, a rebbe should be someone who has discovered the tzadik within themselves, and works to help his followers discover the tzadik within themselves, always within the framework of non-conformist mentoring. Within his understanding of Chasidus, one was meant to do everything "lifnim mishiris hadin" (beyond what the law requires), and this applies to oneself as well. The rebbe said that just as one is forbidden by the Torah from deceiving a fellow person, a true Chusid is forbidden from deceiving himself.

An interesting story has been told regarding how Reb Simcha Bunim saw his role as a rebbe and manhig. Once, when a man came to Reb Simcha Bunim to join his Chasidim when the man's previous rebbe died, Reb Simcha Bunim asked how his previous rebbe had taught discipline and Chasidus to his followers. The man replied that his previous rebbe emphasized the ideals of humility and service by requiring any person wishing to meet with him to go to the village center, fill two buckets with water, and carry them back to the rebbe. Reb Simcha Bunim took issue with teaching each person such a value in the same way. He related a story to the man regarding his own ideas of what it means to be a rebbe. Reb Simcha Bunim said that there were once two wise men and a foolish man placed inside of a dark prison, where there were now windows and the roof was high above them. Each day, their captors would give them food and drink, but the intensity of the darkness confused the foolish man, and he was unable to discern what was a cup, what was a plate, and what was food. Therefore, he was unable to eat until one of the two wise men began to give him the food and drink so that he could fill himself. In exasperation, the first wise man asked the other, "Why do you sit there? While I help this man eat and drink, you do nothing to help him!" The second wise man replied, "You give him food and drink, but the cycle doesn't stop. Each day, you have to do it all over again, as nothing that you do changes the reality of the situation. I, however, am sitting here thinking of a way to make a hole in the roof, so that light will come in and he will be able to see everything!" For those of the Peshis'cha school of Chasidus, the role of a rebbe is not to give his Chasidim the ability to fly by attaching themselves to his wings, but by showing them how to use their own wings. To do so only based on other people's ability is a disaster.


Reb Menachem Mendel of Kotzk, the successor of Reb Simcha Bunim, carried on his rebbe's legacy and philosophy. He stressed the importance of each person looking within in order to understand themselves, and that each person should be able to seek out truth based on their own questions and needs. According to the Kotzker, people do not find the truth by imitating others, for this itself is untrue, in that it forces someone to conform to the "true being" of another person. This untruth of self, even if the path worked for the person that is being copied, does not lead to greater truth. A rebbe is then given the task of helping someone find their authentic self, however difficult and painful it may be, and then begin the process of refining the individual self through a unique path that works for the specific person. This goes along with an interesting reading of the initial statement, "aseh lecha rav," which can also mean, "make yourself into a rav." This is the essence of one of the Kotzker rebbe's most famous sayings: "If I am I because I am I, and you are you because you are you, then I am I and you are you. However, if I am I because you are you, and you are you because I am I, then I am not I and you are not you." It is not our job to be Moshe Rabbeinu, or to be any other great leader, for they have their own time and place, and to copy them is to fail our own unique task and self. We were created with our own essence, in our place, in our time, to be the best "us" we can be, not the best "them" we can be.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Nahag Chadash!


This morning, while everyone was in the middle of hurrying back to yeshiva after breakfast, the air raid sirens went off in Jerusalem. Luckily, I had read the newspaper and noticed a small write-up stating that a test would be conducted this morning. However, it was clear that many had absolutely no idea about the test. In the yeshiva, people asked each other if they had heard the sirens, and what the cause had been. I spoke to several people who hadn't even heard the sirens go off. It sure is a good thing that these sirens didn't need to be heard. What if they had been real? Too bad, I guess.

After the sirens stopped, I realized that they weren't as exciting as I had expected them to be. It was simply a constant, loud whining noise that made it sound like the end of the world was approaching, but no one really stirred. I guess in Israel people don't need a reminder that it can all be over at any minute. Actually, it is something that all Jews are supposed to remember. According to Jewish law, we are supposed to repent on the day before our death, so that we confess and open ourselves up to real truth. Since we clearly do not know on which day we will die, the kaballah tells us to do this each day. This is why Sephardic Jews, as well as Chasidim, say vidui (a confession pray) everyday toward the end of Shacharis and Mincha (the morning and afternoon prayer services). This allows us to remind ourselves of our mortality in this world, and gives us a renewed perspective.


This renewed perspective should ideally be reinforced by the teaching and encouragement of a manhig. A manhig is a tzadik who imparts minhagim and insight to their followers. What exactly manhig and minhag mean in English is difficult to relate. Generally, one translates the word "minhag" into a tradition, or a uniquely Sephardic, German, Satmar, Russian (and the list goes on and on and on) way of doing something required in Judaism. Many times, it may not even be something required, but simply an act or word or pause used to impart a specific idea or emotion into doing something else that is required. While this translation of minhag as tradition might be common, a more expanded understanding of the word can be seen when looking at a common sign on Israeli cars: Nahag Chadash. Nahag Chadash means "new driver", with the root of the word minhag also forming the word for "drive". So, in essence, a manhig is clearly more than someone who imparts tradition, but actually leads those who find power and conviction in such a person, and the minhagim are more than ways of doing things, but actually help to form ones Jewish experience and understanding.

Lately, as I have thought more about what it really means, it has become evident that someone like this is really hard to find. There are certainly thousand upon thousands of people who find themselves attached to this rebbe or that rabbi because they were simply born to parents who were, or perhaps their parents followed so-and-so's father. However, what does this mean for people who think and yearn for something more? I know plenty of people who, after having been born into such a situation where a particularly holy rabbi died and was replaced by a successor, found themselves without a manhig. Had they been more dedicated to the minhag than the manhig, they might have been able to stay and accept that status quoa. This brings me to a question that I wonder over and over again: what is the connection between a minhag and a manhig? Can one follow a manhig who has different minhagim? If you aren't "driven" by these minhagim, then what in the manhig really drives a person?


For someone who follows the derech of Rebbe Nachman (and when I say follows, I mean really; none of this "dancing on cars" business), the answer is more simple. The tzadik Rebbe Nachman of Breslov did not encourage his followers to take on any of his minhagim. The way each person found meaning in a particular practice was expected to be unique, as each student of the Rebbe's was unique. This continues to today, where Breslover Chasidus has several groups, each with their own manhig, and each with members who may or may not share minhagim. The common bond among real Breslov is the same as Rebbe Nachman zt"l expected of his original students: simcha (joy). For Rebbe Nachman, following Jewish law correctly was more important than with what peculiarity one followed it, but the one point he always stressed was "ivdu es HaShem b'simcha", to serve G-d in joy. This way of living, taught Rebbe Nachman, can save a person from countless misdeeds.

Another tzadik, and a manhig for many, many Chasidim around the world, also shows his preference for reality and belief over following minhagim that are simply status quoa. This rebbe, who rebuilt the Chasidus of his ancestors in Israel, found himself in a unique position. Younger than all other rebbes, he came to view problems of secularization and modernity with new eyes. While affiliated with a notoriously anti-Zionist group known as the Eidah HaChareidis, he accepted money for his schools from the Israel government in the face of claims that doing so was against Judaism. When the Eidah put more pressure on him to fall back in line with the status quoa, he refused, and announced that his Chasidus would no longer follow the rulings and leadership of the Eidah. This led him to create his own system of religious courts and kosher supervision. In addition, he encouraged his Chasidim to not sit and complain about the direction in which secular, anti-Torah parties were leading the Israeli government, but to vote against these parties and replace the parliament members with religious people who would stand against the secular and crushingly Zionist attitudes. This distanced him further from other Chasidic groups, some of which even attempted to slander his reputation, but he didn't budge.


Today, his Chasidus runs a successful outreach program for secular Jews looking to become religious. Instead of focusing on how to make new "Chasidim of the rebbe", the yeshivos look at creating Torah observant Jews who happen to look to the rebbe (or any rebbe) for guidance and inspiration, with or without taking on the manhig's particular minhagim. Even in the wake of a recent terror attack on an overtly Zionist yeshiva, with an ideology seemingly worlds apart from his own, the rebbe was the only Chasidic leader to visit victims in the hospital, knowing that achdus (unity) and real ahavas Yisroel (love of a fellow Jew) were more important than age-old stances that might separate someone like him from a someone truly in need. He has also recently encouraged his Chasidim to work in jobs that require secular education, and allowed an "internet gemach" (organization that helps those who do not have access to this service privately) to exist. Talk about a nahag chadash!

Perhaps the mark of a real manhig is not in how they teach you to hold the kiddush cup in your hand, but in how they teach you to hold another human being in your heart. Afterall, times change, and it is important to have someone who is as equally dedicated to truth as he is pragmatic. A story goes that when a Chosid close to the Belzer Rebbe saw him doing things differently from the previous Belzer rebbe, he became concerned. Each day he watched closely to see if he was right, and each day he found more and more minhagim and practices that the new rebbe did differently. Finally, after watching for a while, the Chosid gained enough courage to ask the rebbe about this. "Rebbe," inquired the Chosid, "I see that you do things different from the previous rebbe. Can I ask why this is?" The rebbe smiled, understanding what the Chosid meant, but gave him an elightening answer. "I do nothing different from the previous rebbe," he replied. "Just as the previous rebbe did things differently than the rebbe before him, so too I do things differently than the rebbe before me." Indeed, there really is no difference. May we all be zoche to find a manhig who drives us where it counts, and may we all, day after day, each come to approach the world with new eyes and a renewed spirit, a true nahag chadash.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Don't Judge a Chosid By His Beged


The mystical Zohar's commentary on this weeks parsha (Torah portion) is the source of the esoteric verses recited by Chasidim at the start of Shabbos: Kegavnoh. This weeks parsha, Parshas Terumah, speaks of the Israelites bringing their tithes to Hakadosh Baruch Hu (The Holy One, Blessed Be He), and the Zohar connects this with the uniting of the Upper World with the Lower World. According to the Zohar, the Lower World is represented by Rachel, and the Upper World by Leah. When the Torah says that Rachel envied her sister, it is coming to say that the Lower World hopes and strives to elevate itself to the position of the Upper World. However, as the Torah shows, the two can only be brought together through Yaakov (Jacob, also called Israel, who represents all of the Jewish people), as is shown by his marriage to the two of them.

In the passage of Kegavnoh, the Zohar relates how the Holy Shabbos is a one-day glimpse into what it will be like when the uniting of Above and Below is completed. As we are told over and over again, Shabbos is like a portion of the World to Come. This is why all work and attempts for gain must stop on Shabbos, and we enter into the Holy Day with only what we have prepared. This shows that in the World to Come, we will only have that which we elevated and unified in the earthly life.

With the diverse paths of Orthodoxy, how is one best fitted to go about elevating the Sparks of Holiness here below? This type of mystical wording is left out of the more Litvish (non-Chasidic European ultra-Orthodoxy) writings, with the focus being simply on the act. This doesn't, of course, mean that the notion of and ability to elevate the Lower World was left out of Litvish works, but simply hidden. The great philosopher and tzaddik Harav Kolonymus Kalman Shapira, zt"l, spoke of this very notion when he said that the Baal Shem Tov (founder of Chasidism) and his followers did not transform Judaism and what went on when mitzvos (commandments) were performed, they only revealed the light. That having been said, is anyone who internalizes this "uniting factor" of mitzvos a Chosid? With so much of Orthodox Judaism today seeming to stem from levush (modes of dress), what's in a beged (garment)?

When describing what a Chosid truly is, the forementioned Rav Shapira said, "This is the way of a Chosid, he occasionally cries during a happy tune...and he sometimes dances to the tune of Kol Nidrei (a central text for Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement." Furthermore, he says that "the essence of the Torah of Chasidus is not being satisfied with having one's intellect absorbed in Divine service...but he must serve G-d with all aspects of thought, speech, and action." This may not be different than the feelings of many truly devoted Orthodox Jews today, but the stark difference between historic modes of Litvish and Chasidish practice certainly reveal a difference. Today, things have changed as migration to America, Canada, and Israel has placed Jews from diverse backgrounds together, causing a meshing of Litvish and Chasidish ideas. A story illustrating the former difference is often told by Chasidim of every fold: A misnagdishe (opponent to Chasidus) rabbi and a Chasidishe rabbi were once walking in the village market. The two came upon a simple, unlearned Jewish man oiling the wheels of his wagon, and whipsering prayers as he did so. The misnagdishe rabbi scoffed at this man, "Hmmph, how terrible! This man can't even clean himself in order to show proper respect before G-d!" The Chasidishe rabbi, seeing the same sight, offered quite a different response, saying, "Ribbono Shel Olam (Master of the Universe), how holy are your children! Even when muddled in the difficulties of everyday life, they still remember to praise You!"

Besides for the argument that, "Chasidic ideas aren't really all that different," another idea that people allow to get in their way of embracing the notion of Chasidus (or, even scarier, that they themselves might be Chasidish!) is that of a rebbe. Historically, when Chasidus was developing, the followers of the Baal Shem Tov dispersed to bring his teachings to comunities throughout eastern Europe. Because the Baal Shem Tov's students (each one of whom was a baki in his own right) were turned away by the more scholarly students of "Litvish" yeshivas, the newly-enlightened Chasidim gave over the message of mysticism and essential holiness to the untrained, the uneducated, and those who were cast out of the religiously educated elite. Since this group made up the original fold of Chasidic Jews, they obviously put great trust in their rabbis to teach them that which they did not know. This set in motion the idea of a rebbe, who was a figurehead of the community, often thought as being lucky enough and knowledgeable enough to truly internalize Holiness in a way that they average, unlearned person could not.


While there may be some, even many, Chasidim who continue to have such a strong attachment to the "rebbe" of whichever Chasidus they are members, others have come to show that this is no longer needed to such an extent. Growth and availability of yeshivas, religious books, and the merging of communities now allows for all Jews to receive a proper religious education. Even Rebbe Nachman of Breslov, himself the grandson of the Baal Shem Tov, said that the most important thing is not to have a rebbe, but a manhig, someone who relays customs and traditions, giving religious duties a unique flavor. Furthermore, Rebbe Nachman believed that a tzadik (righteous person) was important to motivate groups of followers, but nothing on the level of what many ascribe to a rebbe.

This brings me to an idea that I've expressed many times before in conversations with people. Someone can go their entire life dressed in Chasidic dress, being impressed by the importance and pomp of a rebbe, and never truly internalize Chasidus. Another person, someone in Berkeley, California who never sits in a tish at Skver, or Satmar, or anywhere else, can learn from the seforim of the Holy Baal Shem, and feel great motivation from a truly pious, yet hidden tzadik. This person may go on wearing Birkenstock sandals, jeans, and flannel shirts, yet begins to wear a yarmulke, tzitzis, and keep Jewish law fully, as he comes to truly feel the holiness of mitzvos. Which is a Chosid? From my experience, and from what tzadikim have said was the true derech (path) of the Baal Shem Tov, a Chosid is someone who sees the light of Torah and comes to internalize it. From this perspective, the second person is a true Chosid, and the first is simply an old-school Litvak is Chasidishe levush. I think this is something that Chasidic leaders once understood, but has been lost by many over the years.


This whole notion may turn definitions and ideas totally upside down, but what's wrong with that? Someone who is truly a Chosid can learn as much mysticism from the Mesillas Yeshorim as from the Tanya, and get a healthy dose of mussar (ethics, what some pose as the anti-Chasidus) at the same time. This is because they internalize and feel every word of Torah in their neshama. This is what it means that a Chosid is someone who cries during a happy tune, and dances to the tune of what should be a mournful time. A Chosid does this because the beauty of Torah and emes (truth) is so real to him that he has no way to express the wonder except through tears, and his trust in and connection to G-d are so great that he actually lives the fact that redemption is immanent, which brings joy.

In one of the first conversations I had with perhaps the closest friend I have, I was asked to describe Chasidus as concisely as possible. My answer to him was, "Ivdu es Hashem b'simcha," or to serve G-d in joy. To him, he said, Chasidus was, "V'ahavta le'rey'acha kamocha," which means to love your neighbor as yourself. In the end, what's the real difference? Someone who serves Hashem in joy has no other option than to love his neighbor as himself, and someone who truly loves his neighbor as himself can feel nothing but deep joy in doing Avodas Hashem (the work of G-d). Both, though, must come from a person who internalizes learning and Torah, sees his place of importance in doing the task of a Jew no matter how hard and bitter the task, and can be a "Chusid" of even a talmid from a Litvishe place like Ponovitch. Afterall, the Zohar reminds us over and over again that the point of it all is to unite the Lower World and the Upper World by knowing and act out the truth of "Ein Od Milvado," that there is truly nothing except for G-d.

In a conversation I had not so long ago, I expressed my personal ideas and feelings about Chasidus, and the response I received was basically, "Chasidus? Judaism? What's the difference?" My thoughts exactly. Perhaps true Chasidus is just a bit more honest about the ikar.