To know Chatzi was to love him. To listen to him sing was to love his music

Living Higher

O

ver Succos bein hazmanim, Monsey’s Ohr Somayach beis medrash resonated with the song of Torah. The roar of  voices rose in the familiar melody of question, answer, and debate, but a sensitive ear would have noted something unique, something rare, about this particular music.

The key to understanding this secret lies in the catalyst for this particular program.

Slightly over one year ago, Chaim Tzvi (Chatzi) Katz of Monsey passed away suddenly.

To know Chatzi was to love him. To listen to him sing was to love his music.

Chatzi was remarkably talented and would entrance his audiences as he sang from the recesses of a very deep heart.

And when that heart ceased to beat, and the song stilled, the thousands he inspired and uplifted were left shocked and broken.

A bein hazmanim learning program was organized in memory of Chatzi, and each time anew, as the roar of heated voices rises in question, answer, and debate, Chatzi’s neshamah, hovering above, is surely singing along in harmony as he continues to uplift and inspire from his lofty place in Shamayim.

Moments from a Mission

In the wake of the war that started on October 7, 2023, a wave of teshuvah has swept Eretz Yisrael. Lev L’Achim, a kiruv organization in Eretz Yisrael, has capitalized on this interest, setting up hundreds of avreichism to learn with Israelis ready to take on more Torah learning and mitzvah observance.

Last week, a delegation of American gedolim, along with a contingent of balabatim, visited Eretz Yisrael and embarked on a whirlwind tour to witness firsthand the revolution taking place in the Holy Land. In just 36 hours, the delegation traveled up and down Israel, visiting Lev L’Achim batei medrash, schools, and headquarters, as well as meeting with the gedolim of Eretz Yisrael. Here we share a collection of some heartwarming moments that played out over the mission.

When the delegation entered a second-grade classroom, they watched as an enthusiastic teacher engaged his lively class in a back and forth. A few minutes in, he stepped back and Rav Elya Brudny took over, the Mirrer Rosh Yeshivah throwing rapid-fire questions to the young boys, leading them in an energetic back and forth.

“Mi barah et hamoreh? — Who created your teacher?” he asked.

“Hashem!” the boys responded.

“U’mi barah abba v’ima shelachem? — Who created your parents?”

And again, the happily shouted in unison, “Hashem!”

The Rosh Yeshivah engaged them in several more lively rounds of give and take, creating an atmosphere of both conviction and joy, as the young Israeli boys reveled in their little “game” with their new American rebbi.

Just a few hours before, the Rosh Yeshivah stood in front of a beis medrash of middle-aged avreichim, and later that evening, he would sit in a meeting with the gedolim of Eretz Yisrael. But no matter the setting, it was the same sparkle, the same passion for truth, the same love of Yiddishkeit that drew every listener in. From a second-grade classroom to the tables of gedolei Yisrael, the Torah conversation was one continuous dialogue, one that everyone could partake, no matter their age.

Over the course of the trip, many young adults told the rabbanim about their journeys back to Yiddishkeit. Invariably, they would conclude by asking the visiting rabbanim for a brachah. More than once, the rabbanim, visibly moved, answered in kind — with a twist. “You’re asking me for a brachah? The chizuk you give us is intense. You should give us a brachah!” At one point, Rabbi Eliezer Sorotzkin, Director-General of Lev L’Achim, bent forward, guiding a young bochur’s hands onto his own head as he happily obliged.

Throngs of children crowded around Rav Chaim Yehoshua Hoberman, their faces reflecting the same delight the Long Beach Rosh Yeshivah radiated upon seeing them. The Rosh Yeshivah didn’t suffice with a general brachah for his young audience. He looked at each child, calling them over one by one, giving each boy a gentle kiss on his head and a few quiet words of chizuk. It was a scene that replayed itself over and over again, capturing the warmth, the accessibility, and the joy of a rosh yeshivah who sees greatness in every Jewish child.

After one visit to a beis medrash packed with avreichim ranging the gamut of Israeli society all poring over Gemaras, some for the first time in their lives, Rav Malkiel Kotler delivered divrei chizuk to those assembled. The hour was late and the delegation was sleep deprived, having only landed the night before. Some of the participants tried to motion to him that they should head back to the waiting minibus to retire for the night. The Lakewood Rosh Yeshivah, though, insisted on staying put.

“Look at all these Yidden that want to say shalom to us,” he said, motioning to the hundreds of young men and boys lining up to receive a brachah from the visiting gedolim. “How can we leave when they will get chizuk from giving us a shalom aleichem?” The line was long, but the Rosh Yeshivah stayed, greeting each participant with warmth and a smile.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1084)