With that one sentence, the Karlin-Stolin Rebbe eloquently expressed his hakaras hatov to all the soldiers who have sacrificed so much

T

he heart rehabilitation gym at Jerusalem’s Shaare Zedek Medical Center is not exactly a cross section of the entirety of Israeli society, but it will serve as a pretty fair substitute. One is almost assured of meeting many people from different backgrounds. And everyone is friendly, as we are bound together by our shared vulnerability — the confrontation with our own mortality.

After a recent session, the friend with whom I go twice a week and I got into a discussion with someone wearing a kippah serugah. The latter mentioned that his family’s roots are in Karlin-Stolin, and one of his nephews has returned to his chassidic roots.

The brother of that returnee to the ranks of Karlin-Stolin fell recently in Gaza. The Karlin-Stolin Rebbe came to the levayah. The Rebbe has difficulty with his legs that makes standing for a long time difficult, and the levayah was a particularly long one — well over two hours. The family brought over a chair to where the Rebbe was standing, but he refused to sit.

“On holy ground one does not sit,” he explained.

With that one sentence, he eloquently expressed his hakaras hatov to all the soldiers who have sacrificed so much, including their lives, to protect the Jewish people in Eretz Yisrael.

I don’t want to suggest that the Rebbe is alone in that hakaras hatov. Indeed, I think he represents a large majority of Israel’s chareidi community. I have witnessed and written about the way that chareidi women in Ramat Beit Shemesh and elsewhere, for instance, have mobilized to provide hot meals to soldiers.

A new book by Rabbi Nachman Seltzer details the efforts of Shai Graucher and a dedicated cadre of supporters to ease the burdens of the widows and orphans of the fallen, and to lift their spirits in any way possible. At a conference on chareidi involvement in national defense, organized by the Haredi Institute for Public Affairs about half a year ago, the most moving moment was when the Institute’s founder, Mishpacha publisher Eli Paley, recited a prayer for the health and safety of the soldiers and hostages, and his voice broke several times while doing so.

But at the same time, there have been too many statements quoted in the press of chareidim either denigrating the value of military service or somehow implying that the ongoing war is “their” concern and not “ours.” The Karlin-Stolin Rebbe’s one-sentence response to the proffered chair is a full refutation of both such types of statements.

I’m not so naive as to think that the debate over IDF service would disappear were the national-religious and secular public to hear more such statements like that of the Rebbe. It would not.

But I do think that if his statement and many others like it were well-known, some of the vitriol would be drained from that debate. And that itself would be a positive step for the entirety of Israeli society and facilitate a less charged backdrop to the debate.

A Clarification

Approximately two months ago, I wrote a piece about Michael Kaufman, 92, and the second edition of his book Am I My Body’s Keeper (Issue 169). In the course of that review, I mentioned Michael’s rigorous exercise regime that involves a couple of hours every day. (On Shabbos he walks from Geula to the haneitz minyan at the Kosel.)

A number of readers wrote to complain that I was advocating an exercise program that is beyond the range of possibility for most readers, and that, in addition, might constitute bittul Torah. So, I just want to make clear that Kaufman was not suggesting that every reader follow his personal workouts, or that such a program is necessary to benefit from exercise.

To the contrary, the book is replete with evidence of the benefits of even a relatively small increase in one’s exercise, no matter at what age. And as for the charge of bittul Torah, I’m pretty confident Michael would respond that davka because of his good health is he able to learn as much as he does and to undertake so many projects for Klal Yisrael, even in his tenth decade.

Most of us would be happy to maintain his learning sedorim at our present age, and how much more so in our nineties. In the article, I only mentioned the daily amud yomi with which he breaks up his morning exercise routine, but most of the rest of his day, after finishing exercise, is spent standing up at his shtender learning.

And I did mention that for over 20 years, the Kaufman home in the Old City overlooking the Kosel was a hub of kiruv activity. As it happens, shortly after the article appeared, I received an email from someone living in Passaic who hoped I could put him in touch with Michael Kaufman. He wrote me that while studying in Israel his junior year abroad in college, he had become involved with a number of kiruv programs, including Ohr Somayach, Jeff Seidel, and Michael Kaufman’s VISA program, and had spent a wonderful Shabbos with the Kaufmans in the Old City.

After college, he returned to learn at Ohr Somayach in the Center Program. His parents, though not opposed to his learning in yeshivah, told him he would have to pay for his studies himself. When he informed the director of the Center Program that he had no money to pay for the program, the former found a sponsor for his entire first year — Michael Kaufman.

From the Center Program, he continued his yeshivah studies at Ner Yisroel and Mesivta Tiferes Jerusalem, under Rav Dovid Feinstein, before attending business school.

Now, he hoped I could put him in touch with Michael Kaufman so he could finally thank him for the wonderful life he had helped to make possible. I did, and on a recent visit to Israel, he and his wife were able to personally thank the Kaufmans, who hosted them for lunch.

THAT FOLLOW-UP also has a connection to Rabbi Berel Wein, about whom I wrote two weeks ago. Last week, Michael shared with me a personal story going back 55 years with Rabbi Wein. The two were attending a convention of the Orthodox Union in Washington, D.C. As both were there without their wives, they were assigned a room together.

The two men had never met before, but they spent a lot of time talking over the long weekend. One piece of advice from Rabbi Wein in particular stuck with Michael: “Think seriously about how you can make a difference — do something in your lifetime that will make a significant contribution to our people and will remain your legacy.” That advice, as the tribute section of Mishpacha to Rabbi Wein made clear, served as the theme of his own life — “doing for the Jewish People.”

Many years later, but before Rabbi Wein made aliyah, he joined the Kaufmans for Leil Shabbos dinner in the Old City. As usual, their apartment was filled with young Jews either participating in the VISA program Michael created for Jewish students studying in Israel or who had just been brought from the Kosel to experience a Shabbos meal.

Rabbi Wein introduced himself to the students, “You can just call me a Barrel of Wine.”

As he was leaving after the meal and discussion, Rav Wein whispered to his host, “I see that you took my advice seriously.”

We should all take that advice seriously and perhaps focus our thoughts on how to do so this Elul. And if adding to our exercise and eating properly can help us learn Torah and “do for the Jewish People” for many more years, let’s resolve to do that, too.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1078. Yonoson Rosenblum may be contacted directly at rosenblum@mishpacha.com)