Rabbi Doniel Staum, LMSW
Rabbi, Kehillat New Hempstead
Rebbe/Guidance Counselor – ASHAR
Principal – Ohr Naftoli- New Windsor
STAM
TORAH
PARSHAS
HA’AZINU 5769
“GENERATION TO GENERATION”
A number of years ago on Rosh Hashana, I
was privileged to share the amud[1]
with my father in our shul, Kehillat New Hempstead. He was chazzan for
shacharis while I was chazzan for mussaf.
It was a unique opportunity, not only
because it was a special feeling of connection between my father and I, but
also because it lent itself to a deeper nostalgic bonding. As a child, each
Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur I would listen as my Sabba[2]
a’h lead the shacharis prayers, and my father lead the mussaf prayers, in the Poilisher
shteeble in Manhattan’s Lower East Side.
During shacharis, when my Grandfather stood
at the amud, I and my older brother would stand next to my father, and during
mussaf, when my Father stood at the amud, we would stand next to my Sabba. That
year, it was gratifying to share with my father the experience that he had with
his father.
It was also particularly meaningful for me that
my children were able to stand next to their Zaide while I was at the amud. The
special experience cannot be expressed in words. It was an emotional connection
with the yesteryear that a grandfather represents.
A number of years ago, while rummaging
through the sefarim in my Zaide’s[3]
apartment, I discovered a machzor (prayer-book) for the High holy Days that was
published in Germany
I have often thought about how vastly
different the Torah world looked when the Machzor was first published. The
Chofetz Chaim, Rabbi Yisroel Meir Kagan, was two years old in Zhetel, Poland; Rabbi
Moshe Sofer, the Chasam Sofer had died one year prior; Rabbi Akiva Eiger had
died two years prior; a 32 year old Rabbi Samson Rafael Hirsch was the Rabbi of
the city of Oldenburg[4];
Rabbi Yisrael Lipkin of Salant was 30 years old; and Rabbi Menachem Mendel
Morgenstern, the famed Kotzker Rebbe was 53 years old[5].
The world back then also seems like a
different galaxy. It was 21 years before the American Civil War; William Henry
Harrison was the President of the USA England ’s Victorian Era of Pax Britannica
and Otto Von Bismarck had been chancellor of Germany
It is mind-boggling to think of all the
world-shattering events that have transpired since the publication of that
Machzor. But the timeless words contained in that ancient book remain virtually
unchanged.[6]
We recite the same verses of Kingship in Mussaf on Rosh Hashana that were
proclaimed in Rabbi Hirsch’s Germany, the same words of Kol Nidrei that were
hummed in the Pressburg of the Chasam Sofer, and the same penetrating tune for
the Kaddish before Neilah that was sung in the synagogues of Salant, Zhetel,
and Kotzk. The world has changed drastically but the prayers and what they
represent are exactly the same!
In the holy song of Haazinu that Moshe
Rabbeinu sang on the day of his death, he proclaimed “Remember the days of old,
consider the years of each generation; ask your father and he will tell you,
your grandfather and he will say it to you.”[7]
History and the events of the past are integral parts of Jewish life.
My Rebbe, Rabbi Berel Wein often relates
that when one learns to drive, the first thing he is taught before he even
pulls out, is to look in his rear-view mirror to see what is behind him. Just
as it is when one drives, one cannot go forward in life unless he has an understanding
of what is behind him. A Jew can never forget the exodus, the giving of the
Torah at the revelation of Sinai, the miracles of the forty years in the
desert, and all of the other events of Divine Providence throughout the
generations. As poet and novelist George Santayana once
mused, “Those who cannot remember the past, are condemned to repeat it!”
The verse’s exhortation that history not be
forgotten and that elders be consulted is understandable. However, the verse
seems redundant. How does “remember the days of old” differ from “consider the
years of each generation”?
Menachem Tzion explains the words
homiletically. The word for ‘years’ used here, shenos, can also be
translated as “the changes”. One must consider and contemplate the changes that
occur in each generation. He must be wary of the lessons of the past in order
to apply them to the future with wisdom and discernment. Times change, people
change, societies change, and circumstances change. What was effective and
productive yesterday may no longer be beneficial and efficient today. Although
the Torah itself never changes, part of its eternal quality is that we can
learn to adapt and mold our lives around its dictates throughout time. We have
to contemplate and understand how to apply its words for its wisdom traverses
all societies and all challenges. We must not only remember history but we must
also consider and contemplate the vicissitudes of time and how the Torah
continued and continues to be true throughout.
The Machzor Masores HaRav[8]
quotes the following beautiful thought from Rabbi Yosef Dov Soloveitchik zt’l:
The Mishna[9]
quotes Rabbi Akiva who stated: “A father endows his son with comely appearance,
strength, riches, wisdom, longevity, and the number of generations (that had been
his progenitors) before him.” He then adds, “v’hu hakatyz- And this is
(the secret of) the redemption.”
There is no doubt that the genetic codes of
a parent and the conditions of the home environment affect a child’s physical,
economic, and intellectual status. But what is the concept of “the number of
generations” which is the secret to the redemption?
Rabbi Soloveitchik eloquently portrayed the
following scenario: “A grandfather stands before his newly born grandchild
filled with paradoxical thoughts. Feelings of renewal merge with fading
memories of the past. For the Torah-committed Jew, the scene had an added
dimension. Grandfathers and grandchildren, though members of different
generations, are part of one fraternity – those who preserve the integrity of
the transmitted tradition (“the Mesorah community”). Jews of the past, present,
and future are united in their commitment to the Divine teachings of the Torah
and to the historical destiny of the Jew. One collegial fraternity exists of
Moshe, Rabbi Akiva, the Rambam, the Gaon of Vilna, the Ba’al Shem Tov, and
others, joining hands with grandfathers, parents, and children of all generations.
As the child is born he is absorbed into
the Mesorah community. He will, hopefully, speak our language, study our texts,
share our solemnities, dream our dreams, and adopt our ideals. Rashi will
become his lifelong companion in Torah study, as he is ours. In this fraternity
of the committed, there need not be any generation gap, any splintering of
ranks, but rather a sharing of ideas and ideals which span and unite countless
generations. Each newborn child enters an extended historical family where he
will be reared by the wisdom and teachings of the great Torah personalities,
all interested in his spiritual awakening and development.
“When it is achieved, a Mesorah
relationship between grandfather and grandchild contains an emotional intensity
and intellectual closeness that in some ways transcends the parent-child
relationship. Psychologically, one would not expect a deep identification
between two individuals whose great discrepancy of years could easily spawn
alienation. Yet grandparents, more so than parents, are sensitive to the
transiency of time and to the pressing need to assure the perpetuation of one’s
lifelong principles. The child is far more than a biological extension; he
embodies one’s hopes for spiritual continuity… Distance in time is bridged, and
divergence in outward style is rendered irrelevant. This is in sharp contrast
to the secular scene, where generations too often confront each other as cultural
antagonists.
“This is the idea of “the number of
generations before him”. Parents transmit to their children the secret of
uniting with past generations and the ability to associate with distant historical
figures, intellectually and emotionally, as if they were contemporaries. This
is the secret of the redemption! He who can proclaim an identity with the
generations from the beginning will bring about the redemption of the Jewish
people.”
The prayers we recite on Rosh Hashana and
Yom Kippur grant us a unique opportunity to connect with our forbearers.[10]
Even more so, when we sit outside in our succah during the holidays of Succos,
we are united with all of Klal Yisroel in the world today as well as throughout
all the generations. Anyone who has ever sat in a succah under the s’chach, which
represents the sole protection of their Father in Heaven, maintains an
inextricable bond.
This is part of the idea behind the Ushpizin,
who come to visit our succos on a metaphysical level during each of the seven nights
of the joyous Succos holiday.[11]
When we sit in the succah we are relying on the protection of the same G-d Who
protected the Ushpizin during their lifetimes, thousands of years ago. The mere
fact that we sit in the succah deeply connects us with our patriarchs and
greatest leaders. In a sense, the holiness of the succah and our ability to
appreciate its meaning is thanks to their efforts. Their belief and faith in
G-d created the seeds and roots from which we have branched out. On a deeper
level, when the souls of the Ushpizin enter our succos they are coming back to
their own homes.
The days of teshuva and the celebration of
Succos which follow are days of connection – connection to our past, connection
to our future, and perhaps most profoundly, connection to ourselves.
“Ask your father and he will tell you, your
grandfather and he will say it to you.”
“A father endows his son… and the number of
generations before him.”
[1] lectern
from where the chazzan leads the congregation
[2] Father’s
Father
[3] My Zaide
is my Mother’s Father
[5] Gerrer
chassidus was not yet founded
[6] Perhaps
there are some variations depending on custom but it is the same basic
universal text used today.
[7] Devorim
32:7
[8] Rosh
Hashana, p. 316
[9] Eduyos
2:9
[10]
Although this is true about the prayers throughout the year, it has special
meaning during these High Holy Days when we use ancient tunes and maintain
customs that traverse generations.
[11] The Zohar, the foremost book of Jewish mysticism, explains that the
Sukkah generates such an intense concentration of spiritual energy, that the
divine presence actually manifests itself there in a similar way to the Garden
of Eden. During Sukkos the souls of the seven shepherds of Israel -- Avraham, Yitzchok, Yaakov, Moshe, Aaron, Yosef,
and Dovid Hamelech -- actually leave Gan Eden to partake in the divine light of
the earthly Sukkos (Zohar - Emor 103a).
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