By: Rabbi E. Tauger

Sivan

Holocaust and Redemption

The Shabbos before the advent of a new month is distinguished as Shabbos Mevorchim, the Saturday of blessing. A special prayer is recited to bestow manifold beneficence on our people in the coming month. Usually, directly after reciting this prayer, we proceed to the prayer Ashrei yoshvei veisecho, "Happy are those who dwell in Your house." We omit the prayer Av Harachim, "Merciful Father," which is recited in memory of the martyrs who sacrificed their lives to sanctify G-d's name. For the festive nature of Shabbos Mevorchim would be disturbed by the mention of this prayer. There is, however, one month when an exception is made. After blessing the month of Sivan, we recite the Av Harachamim prayer. For Sivan is set aside as a month of martyrdom. In the era of the crusades in France, horrible tragedies occurred and later in the Cossack revolt in Poland and the Ukraine of 1648, hundreds of thousands of Jews met their death in this month. Thus despite the festive nature of this Shabbos, there is no way we could continue without showing reverence for the martyrs.

Why Horror?

350 years is a long time, but 50 is within our recollection span. Although many of us were not alive or were mere children at the time, our people's collective memory shudders at the martyrdom our people suffered on the European continent not so long ago. The Cossack Khmelnytsky is a name from the history books; not everyone knows his identity. Hitler Yemach Shemo is a name all Jewish children recognize. And they - and their parents - ask some simple questions: Why? We live in a beautiful world. Why would anyone want to kill another person? And especially six million people? And if there is a G-d, why didn't He stop it? Where was He when we needed Him?

Tune Into the Questions

This is not the first time these questions have been asked. In the 50 years since the Holocaust, rabbis, philosophers, men of the arts, and plenty of ordinary people have agonized over these issues. Their answers are manifold and lengthy, and yet, the questions are more powerful than the answers. What are the questions saying: That we believe the world is good and beautiful. Yes, we have all seen tragedy and horror, but we regard that as abnormal. We expect the sun to rise and the trees to flower. And we believe people to be good. We expect kindness and love from them. We know that these expectations will not always be fulfilled, but this is the way we anticipate people will act. And we look to G-d thankfully, appreciative of all the good and kindness He has granted us and looking forward to Him continuing to grant us such goodness in the future. Because these are our fundamental beliefs, we raise questions when these expectations are not met. Are these expectations somewhat naive? No, they are true. Yes, as stated simply, they may appear naive, but at the core, the world is good, people are good, and G-d is good. And He created this world so that this goodness can flourish and reach plateaus beyond our highest expectations. But what about the horror of the holocaust?

Indirect Answers

In 1945, would you have told a holocaust survivor to focus on that question? What would you have advised him to do: Try to piece his life together or agonize over why G-d did this to him? Well over 50 years later, the same answer still applies. There is good in the world and we have good within ourselves. And our efforts must be to highlight and increase this good. Anything that interrupts us and stands in the way of achieving that objective - even questions concerning G-d and His will - are immaterial and counterproductive. To put the concept in personal terms. There are two ways of reacting to a loss: one way is to hold on to the pain, to indulge and luxuriate in the suffering the loss causes. And the other is to muster up the spontaneity and creativity to let go of the pain and focus on putting the most into and getting the most out of the present moment.

A Plan for Action

The most powerful answer to the questions of the Holocaust is the dynamic Jewish presence. Somebody once suggested to the Rebbe that to commemorate the Holocaust, we should put an empty chair at our Seder tables, an obvious reminder that there are Jews missing who would have otherwise been at the Seder. "Don't bring an empty chair," the Rebbe answered, "bring an extra chair. Invite a guest or several guests who would not otherwise be at the Seder. That is an appropriate commemoration." How do we recall people who are departed? We perform acts of goodness and kindness in their memory. And when there are many - six million - people to recall, there must be a multitude of deeds of goodness and kindness performed.

From Darkness to Light

These positive activities are also catalysts to bring us to a higher and more complete state of good. The Kabbalah explains that every fundamental process of transition has three phases: yesh - ayin - yesh, an entity, a state of void, and a new entity. For when one wants to take a radical step forward, one must first negate the previous frame of reference. Then, like a vacuum, this state of non-being "draws in" a new and higher level of existence. The metamorphosis from the old world of the shtetl (in Jewish terms) and the formative years of the Industrial Revolution (in terms of the world at large) to the Era of the Redemption needed an ayin. As mankind was groping for a formula for change, Hitler offered his definition of ayin - absolute annihilation. In the half-century that has followed, mankind has begun to seek more positive definitions, ones that further G-d's purpose in Creation. And this will enable us not merely to hear the foot-steps of Mashiach, but to see his coming and share in the era of fulfillment he will initiate.

Telling Tales

(In connection with Sivan 28, the anniversary of the arrival of the Rebbe and the Rebbetzin in the U.S., we share the following story.)

After being saved from war-torn Poland in 1940, the Previous Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn, worked to facilitate the immigration of his son-in-law and daughter, the Rebbe and the Rebbetzin, to America. After endless and urgent telephone calls, telegrams, and hours of effort, the necessary papers and boat tickets were obtained for the couple. They were scheduled to embark from Portugal and made the trip there from Nice uneventfully. Shortly before boarding the ship to America, the Rebbe received a telegram from his father-in-law. "Do not journey on this ship," was the short and astounding message. Without as much as a blink of an eye, the Rebbe canceled the reservations and waited for the next departure. Later, it was discovered that the first ship had been sunk by German U-boats. There were no survivors. The Rebbe and the Rebbetzin, by contrast, arrived safely in New York on the 28th of Sivan, 5701 (1941). "In my eyes, the most amazing aspect of this incident," says one chassid, "is not the farsightedness of the Previous Rebbe, but the Rebbe's unquestioning acceptance of the Previous Rebbe's directive. He and his wife obtained the required papers by a series of miracles. The Nazis were aware of their identity, and there was no certainty of an additional departure. Any delay could have jeopardized their possibility for escape. Yet, as their lives hung in balance, the Rebbe followed his father-in-law's directive without a second thought."

Torah readings of the month

Parshas Naso

This Torah reading contains the story of a sotah, a woman suspected of infidelity. Our Sages explain that this concept can be understood as a metaphor for the love relationship shared by G-d and the Jewish people. At times, the Jewish people may appear unfaithful, i.e., that they have other concerns and interests to which they devote themselves. This may lead to G-d subjecting them to trials and tribulations. Ultimately, however, at the core of every Jew lies a G-dly potential which is totally dedicated to him. The objective of these trials is merely to tap that core and bring it to the surface.

Parshas Bahaaloscha

This Torah reading begins with the description of the kindling of the Menorah. The Menorah was a unique symbol of the oneness of the Jewish people. It was made from a single block of gold; it was not a composite of several pieces fused together. Nevertheless, it rose into seven branches. Implied is that unity and diversity are not contradictory. On the contrary, the true sense of oneness is a fundamental identity that pervades and permeates many different and even opposing thrusts. In seeking to unite with our fellow men, we should not try to impose conformity and artificial homogeneity, but should instead find a deeper message that people with different perspectives can also share.

Parshas Shelach

This Torah reading relates the journey of the spies to Eretz Yisrael and its tragic consequences. On the surface, a question arises: Moses sent the spies to investigate Eretz Yisrael and bring back a report. That's what they did. No where is it said that they lied. Why then were they given the most severe of punishments? The answer relates to a fundamental concept regarding personal responsibility. Moses instructed the spies to check out the land and bring back a report. That's all. He did not ask them to come to any conclusions. They, however, besides describing the land, gave the people advice: "We cannot conquer it. The people are too strong for us." By coming to this conclusion, they overstepped their mission and in doing so, brought doom upon themselves and many of their colleagues. A person must realize what he is charged to do and set himself out to doing just that. And he must trust in G-d that the outcome will be good. Although he does not see how a favorable objective can be achieved, he must realize that the Creator has the potential to achieve far more than mortal intellect can imagine.

Shavuos May 21 - 22

The Midrash relates that before G-d gave the Torah to the Jewish people, He asked for guarantors. The nation offered several options - the Patriarchs Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, Moses and the other prophets, but G-d rejected them all. The mothers then volunteered: "Our children will be our guarantors." G-d agreed and gave the Torah.

On one hand, the concept is obvious. If you want an idea or a practice to be perpetuated, you must involve youth. Perhaps the point of the Midrash then is the nature of the involvement asked of our children. A lot of times people say, "I will show my children an approach. I'm sure that they'll appreciate that it's good. But I won't force them. I'll let them make up their own minds."

Judaism takes a much different tact. Before the Jews received the Torah at Mount Sinai, they told G-d: "We will do and we will listen," making a commitment to observe the Torah, before they knew what G-d was commanding them.

This practice is mirrored in the way we train our children to approach the Torah. The first thing is actual deed. They observe the mitzvos without understanding their rationale. Instead, they grow up practicing them as an integral part of their existence. They do not see Judaism as merely a set of beliefs whose value they comprehend, but a fully integrated way of life that encompasses every dimension of their existence.

"Brainwashing," someone might protest. "Denying the children free choice." But it is not. Our children will always have a choice. They grow up in a world where material things are openly evident to all of us, and the existence of spiritual truth is only in books. Is there any question that they will hear the other side?

And raising them without a thorough involvement in Judaism as a way of life is also a message. It teaches them that Judaism is secondary, perhaps a nice pastime, but not one of the fundamental elements of life. What kind of choice does that leave the child?

Shavuos is the anniversary of the giving of the Torah, an appropriate time for each of us to renew and deepen our connection with it. The Lubavitcher Rebbe instituted the custom of recreating the Sinai experience by having all Jews - men, woman, children, even infants - gather in the synagogue to hear the reading of the Ten Commandments on the first day of Shavuos.

Following that custom brings home the above concepts. For whether or not they understand the reading, everyone attending will appreciate that it is special. A child will know that even if he did comprehend the reading, he did establish a bond with the Torah. And the truth is that the adults should take precisely that message home. For the truth of the Torah is G-dly, beyond human conception.

No matter how much we do understand, there is always infinitely more which is beyond our understanding.