“RABBI’S MUSINGS (& AMUSINGS)”
Erev Shabbos Kodesh Parshas Chayei Sarah
26 MarCheshvan 5784/November 10, 2023
Mevorchim Chodesh Kislev
BROTHERLY LOVE
The month of Cheshvan is the only month on the Jewish calendar that has
no unique endemic avodah. Even months that contain a fast day have special
focus and significance.
For me personally, when our Succah and its decorations are put away and
Cheshvan begins, I pull out my grandfather’s notes.
My mother’s father,
Rabbi Yaakov Meir Kohn, was the Rabbi of the renown Slonimer Shul on the Lower
East Side. Aside from being a noted talmid chochom, he was an excellent
speaker. From his pleasant personality, charisma, and sense of humor, one would
never know the extreme difficulties of his youth.
As his yahrtzeit is 27 Cheshvan, I think a lot about him and the profound
effect he continues to have on me during Cheshvan.
I have a few pages of my grandfather’s notes and some taped recordings of
derashos he gave in Yiddish that are very precious to me. His writing is very
hard to read and every year I try to decipher a little more of his writings.
My grandfather’s father, the Rav of the town of Selz, Russia, along with
his mother and sister were brutally murdered by the Nazis. He had no idea what
happened to his ten years younger brother, Zusha.
My grandfather spent the war years on the run, including some time with
partisans in the forest. Alone in the world, he used his excellent social
skills and sharp mind to survive. Most of the stories of how he survived will
never be known as he hardly spoke about his war experiences.
My grandfather’s family
name was really Wilamowsky. At one point during the war his passport was
confiscated. Somehow, he found a passport on the ground that bore the name
Kohn. As the passports then had no pictures attached, from then on, he became
Yaakov Kohn.
Sometime later, he met my grandmother in Tashkent where they married.
They eventually arrived in America and began life anew on the Lower East Side.
Once he came to America, it was easier to leave his name as Kohn. He would say
that he was Rabbi Kohn who wasn’t a Kohain.
One day, someone was speaking to my grandfather and heard that his
original name was Wilamowsky and that he had had a younger brother named Zusha.
The man informed my grandfather that his younger brother Zusha was alive and
well. Zusha had survived the war, also having spent the war years with
partisans. After the war, Zusha became extremely close with the Lubavitcher
Rebbe. In fact, for the rest of his life, the Rebbe would refer to Zushe as “my
partisan” and Zusha became a beloved and noted personality in Lubavitch
circles.
As soon as he was able to, my grandfather rushed to Crown Heights where
he was reunited with his brother. Unbeknownst to them, during the war years
they had not been far from each other.
That reunion must have been incredibly joyous and emotional. For the rest
of their lives, the two brothers remained close. The fact that they lived in
two different worlds made no difference whatsoever. My grandfather was a
Lithuanian Rabbi, while Reb Zusha was a heartfelt devotee of the Lubavitcher
Rebbe. As the only survivors of their family, they had time no or energy to
waste on the difference in the way they lead their lives.
On a national level, the Jewish people’s collective heart is shattered
over the recent tragedies, and we feel continued angst over the plight of our
captives and soldiers.
Yet, at the same time, we are also awed by ourselves and the incredible
unity we all feel now. The added focus on Hashem, the renewed recognized
primacy of Torah study, the dedication to performance of mitzvos like tzitzis
and Shabbos observance, the increased emphasis on prayer and Tehillim, and the
selfless chesed being performed, is heartwarming and encouraging.
In a sense, many Jews didn’t know they had a brother who was still alive.
They felt that the Jews who were not like them were almost a different people,
alienated and cutoff, and lost in the past. But then on Simchas Torah, Hamas
took away our passports that bore our names and affiliations. The only thing
Hamas saw was that we were Jews. We suddenly realized that we are all brothers
and sisters, and that we need to be there for each other. We now see pictures
of Jews of different backgrounds helping each other, hugging each other, and
giving chizuk to each other.
Rav Chaim Marcus, one of the esteemed Rebbeim in Heichal HaTorah, and Rav
of Congregation Israel of Springfield, NJ related to the Heichal students some
of his experiences from when he joined a rabbinic mission to Eretz Yisroel last
week.
During their trip one of the people they met was Dana Cohen. On Simchas
Torah, her religious yishuv, Shlomit, was not attacked. But the nearby yishuv
of Pri-Gan was attacked and needed assistance. Dana’s husband, Aviad, and
others from Shlomit’s security team rushed to help Pri-Gan. Arriving there even
before the army, they saved Pri-Gan from eight terrorists who were trying to
infiltrate. However, in doing so, two members of Shlomit security, including
Aviad, were killed.
Dana, now the mother of four orphans, told the assemblage, “We have to
work on maintaining and growing the incredible emunah and achdus we all feel
now. If that happens then my husband’s death will have been worth it.”
Unbelievable words!
At the conclusion of the Gettysburg Address, President Lincoln noted that
they could not consecrate the land upon which the battles were fought. The
soldiers who gave their lives fighting had already done so. The only thing left
for them was to ensure that they did not die in vain.
That is now our task as well. It’s up to us to ensure that they did not
suffer or die in vain!
Shabbat Shalom
& Good Shabbos,
R’ Dani and Chani Staum
