Rabbi Krohn explained that it’s not enough to go up to Hashem’s mountain; you have to stand there

When I asked Rav Eliezer Krohn if his father would be up to speaking on Sunday afternoon, Shivah Asar B’Tammuz, the return call was not long in coming.

“My father can do it,” he said. “I’m sure you’ll get a big crowd.”

This would be Rabbi Paysach Krohn’s first public event in Passaic since his stroke at the Agudah convention last December. Since then, his name, Paysach Yosef ben Hinda, has constantly been in the tefillos of thousands, mine included. So I was also sure that he would draw a large crowd. However, I could never have predicted what would transpire.

As I waited on the sidewalk in front of the shul to greet him, I must have said “Shalom aleichem” to the entire neighborhood. Hundreds were streaming to the event, men, women, and children.

As we entered the building, our shul’s dedicated gabbai, Jonathan Pittinsky, informed me that the Brown ballroom was already filled, and people were still arriving. We realized that the venue had to be changed to the main shul.

Both the women’s and men’s sections were filled to capacity. Over 500 people had come to hear words of chizuk from the master Maggid, Rav Paysach Krohn.

As he was wheeled into the room, a hush fell over the overflowing, standing-room-only crowd.

The audience sensed the mesirus nefesh, the physical exertion that Rabbi Krohn was expending to share his Torah with us as he slowly and deliberately made his way up the stairs. The mesmerized crowd looked on in sheer amazement at Rabbi Krohn’s steadfast determination to deliver his drashah.

As I introduced him, I mentioned that his first words to me in the very first conversation I had with him after his stroke were, “How is Tuvia Nissan ben Yehudis?”

Tuvia is my son, who has served proudly and with distinction for over 300 days since October 7 in the IDF reserves.

As he made his way to the amud to speak, he characteristically made light of his inquiry into my son’s well-being by stating, “Who could not be focused on the soldiers who protect all of us?”

He then, in line with his stellar middos tovos, publicly thanked his medical aide, a man named Voltaire, saying, “He has a heart of gold, and I thank Hashem for giving me this wonderful aide.”

Once again, Rabbi Krohn, through his own personal actions, impacted all of us in the most meaningful of ways.

He began with the pasuk in Tehillim, “Mi yaaleh b’har Hashem, u’mi yakum bimkom kodsho? [Who will ascend upon Hashem’s mount, and who will stand in His Holy place?]”

Rabbi Krohn explained that it’s not enough to go up to Hashem’s mountain; you have to stand there —you have to feel it! It’s not enough to abstain from eating and drinking; you have to “feel the fast.”

The reality, of course, was that although Rabbi Krohn’s drashah touched all of us deeply, with “words emanating from the heart that penetrate the heart,” perhaps even more powerful than his speech was his manifestation of resilience.

His sheer willpower enabled him to carry on, continuing to teach and inspire, despite what he had been through.

This personal demonstration of a man’s power and strength, with Hashem’s help, to overcome challenging situations and once again stand in the holy place of Hashem, was the greatest inspiration of all.

As Rabbi Krohn descended from the bimah, he was mobbed by admirers seeking brachos. The sense of kedushah was palpable throughout the room.

It was a memory that will live forever in the hearts of all of us who were privileged to be present.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1075)