“I am shocked and appalled at the inaccurate description of chassidim in the Court Secrets serial”

The Thirteenth Gate [Guestlines / Issue 1058]

I greatly appreciated Rabbi Kerzner’s fascinating article about the shaar hakollel. To be honest, it brought me tremendous chizuk. My family and I have often struggled to find our place within the community, always carrying a certain self-awareness — even self-consciousness — about not fully fitting in.

Rabbi Kerzner’s words, though, offered us a new perspective. He reminded us that perhaps we are not lost or out of place; perhaps we are simply embracing the shaar hakollel — joining those who have the unique ability to glean from the avodah of many different kehillos, shuls, and traditions.

Thank you so much for this insight. Your words truly lifted our spirits.

Name Withheld

Enjoying the Backstory [Still in the Story / Issue 1058]

I really enjoyed reading the wonderful article about Rabbi Marcus Lehmann. I am a seventh grade ELA teacher in Joan Dachs Bais Yaakov in Chicago and I read The Family Y Aguilar with my class as part of our literature curriculum. It is so wonderful to have such high-quality literature that doesn’t compromise on Jewish values.

It was fascinating to read about his life and I plan on using what I learned from this article when introducing the book to future classes. Thank you for the wonderful insight into such a special man.

N. Pomerantz

Chicago, IL

Have I Met Your Mr. Right? [Counterpoint / Issue 1057]

Over the past few weeks, I’ve been overcome with a powerful and unfamiliar feeling: hope. For so long, we’ve cried out about the pain and brokenness in the shidduch system. To see the gedolim not just listening, but acting, has been nothing short of healing. For the first time in a long time, it feels like real change is within reach. The new initiatives announced give Klal Yisrael a fighting chance to repair a system that has left too many behind.

Yet even with the most passionate efforts, there will still be those who slip through the cracks. And so I want to share a simple, personal idea, an initiative born straight from the heartache of the shidduch journey itself.

Anyone who has lived it knows: Dating is an emotional rollercoaster. You get a suggestion. You get your hopes up. You prepare. You daven. You pour your heart into the opportunity. You feel excitement, you feel nerves... and then, in a flash, it’s over. The door closes, and you’re left standing there, wondering: What was it all for?

I used to plead with Hashem: Why? Why meet so many people who aren’t my bashert? Why invest so much time, so much heart, into something that just disappears?

And then, one day, a thought changed everything for me: Maybe it was never about me at all. Maybe Hashem had a different plan. Maybe that boy wasn’t meant for me — but he was meant for someone else.

From that point on, after every date that didn’t work out, I would try to suggest the boy to another girl who might be a better fit. Suddenly, no date was “wasted.” Each encounter was an opportunity to become a shaliach for others. It gave my journey purpose, even through the loneliness. It kept me thinking about others, even while facing my own disappointments.

Soon, I realized many of my friends were quietly doing the same. After a heart-to-heart conversation later, a bigger idea was born: What if this became a real movement? So many girls are already doing this. Some boys, too. But what if we made it bigger? What if it became the norm?

Girls often sit and wait for suggestions while boys are flooded with opportunities. But what if every boy, after dating a girl who wasn’t his bashert, made it his responsibility to consider: “If not for me, maybe for someone else.”

Boys know their friends better than any shadchan ever could. They can describe the girls they date better than any résumé. Their suggestions would carry sincerity and insight.

Here’s a simple way to put it into action: Before setting up a boy, a shadchan could say, “If this girl isn’t for you, please take a few minutes to think about who she might be right for.”

And maybe even more importantly, if we show Hashem that even in our moments of loneliness and pain, we are thinking of others — that even while searching for our own zivug, we try to be shluchim for someone else — surely, He will shower Klal Yisrael with more siyata d’Shmaya, more shidduchim, more menuchas hanefesh.

It’s a small idea — but sometimes the smallest things make the biggest difference.

May we be zocheh to see many more homes built soon, with simchah and menuchas hanefesh.

A Girl in Shidduchim

Raise the Bar for Boys [Counterpoint / Issue 1057]

I’m a Bais Yaakov high school teacher and a kallah teacher, and I’ve been following the recent articles on the shidduch crisis with tremendous interest. I deal with shidduchim, both for my students and my children, on a daily basis, and my heart breaks for the many girls who are still single. I’d like to add another angle to the discussion. One concern that’s come up while discussing this with shadchanim and other kallah teachers is that while narrowing the age gap may help more people get married, perhaps it may lead to more divorces if the boys start shidduchim younger and less mature.

This might be an issue we have created. We have set up a system where our boys have little to no achrayus. By the time our girls step foot out of seminary, they need to find a job and have a solid plan for the future, and because they have to — they do. I’m amazed at some of my weaker students. They may have had a hard time with follow-through in school, but when they leave seminary, they pull themselves together — because that is what’s expected of them.

In contrast, we expect almost nothing from our boys. Once they reach beis medrash no one is monitoring when and if they make it to minyan, or how many hours they are truly learning. All of their needs are taken care of, aside from maybe their laundry. They have very little sense of money; do you know how many mothers share that their sons (good, even top boys) are racking up credit card bills because they don’t like the food in yeshivah so they buy food daily? And then it comes to bein hazmanim and they need to chill. We’re thrilled with any help they give us for Pesach or around the house, and we don’t encourage them to do chesed outside of the home. (I have a special-needs brother-in-law, and when we looked for a boy to take him out a little because of a family simchah, we couldn’t find one in the yeshivah system.)

Is it any wonder we’re concerned that our boys aren’t mature enough to get married earlier? It’s because we’ve created a system where they don’t have to be.

A.R.

Depth and Diversity [Counterpoint/ Issue 1057]

Thank you for featuring the letters discussing the new shidduch initiative. In a landscape where paid content and the loudest voices attempt to control our discourse, it was refreshing to read the intelligent and nuanced opinions of Mishpacha’s readership. The thoughtful responses demonstrated the depth and diversity of perspectives that our community has amassed through experience, and are an inspiring reminder of the lively and sensitive debate that remains as history plays itself out and nudges us toward a consensus.

Thank you,

Yehuda Haver 

Family Connection [My Shtetl, Lizhensk/ Issue 1057]

I was very touched by the recent article in Mishpacha about Gedalia Guttentag’s great-grandfather, Rav Shmuel of Tchitcher and Lizhensk. I wanted to share a personal family connection to him that I believe you may find meaningful.

My family, the Becks (an acronym for Bnei Kedoshim), lived in Lizhensk for many generations. My great-grandfather, Rabbi Moshe Chaim Beck, was a holy and pious man who taught Talmud to the local boys and served as the baal korei in the town for many years. I once interviewed an elderly man I knew in Boro Park, Mr. Sternheim z”l, who fondly remembered learning with my great-grandfather. He even recalled and sang for me the special tune Reb Moshe Chaim would hum while teaching.

My great-grandmother, Rochel Beck, was equally devout. She knew your great-grandfather Rav Shmuel from childhood, back in Tchitche, and they remained close friends after he came to Lizhensk.

In 1935, after the passing of my great-grandfather, Rochel withdrew completely from the world. She stopped eating, refused to see people, and lay silently in bed, seemingly resolved to follow her husband in death. In desperation, the family called Rav Shmuel, hoping that perhaps he could reach her. When he entered and softly called her name, she slowly turned from the wall to face him and said:

“Shmiel! Shoin genug arein geleiget in der choimer.” (“Shmiel, I’ve already laid too much into the physical.”)

Shortly afterward, she passed on.

I thought you might appreciate hearing this story about your great-grandfather’s connection to the Beck family — and to one deeply soulful woman who held onto their bond until the very end.

Warm regards,

Rabbi Mordechai Beck

Change of Mindset Needed [Indebted / Double Take – Issue 1057]

While most Double Take stories highlight complex and nuanced issues in which each side brings a compelling argument to the table, I found myself struggling not to judge the protagonist who finds Pesach at a hotel (even a lower-end one) so basic a need as to justify borrowing money to cover the expenses.

Although the money wasn’t borrowed for the getaway per se, staying home and making Pesach would have certainly made a big difference in their finances.

And that leads me to the larger point that bothered me: the desperation of it all. The protagonist had so many “needs,” starting from the bar mitzvah itself. Personally, I could think of a number of ways to reduce the cost of the bar mitzvah if her mindset were different. But it’s that mindset of needing to live by a self-imposed standard that underlies the story. And unless there is a change in how she views herself and her situation in light of reality, the story will continue to repeat itself over and over again.

Does going away for Pesach justify borrowing money? While there are certainly plenty of reasons why at times it would become a need, I struggle to find compassion this time.

R.R.

Jerusalem, Israel

Egregious Distortion [Court Secrets Serial]

I am shocked and appalled at the inaccurate description of chassidim in the Court Secrets serial. I cannot believe that Mishpacha published these first two chapters. The author is either clueless about rebbes and chassidim or has a specific agenda to knock them down.

As thousands of Mishpacha readers know, a rebbe, his chassidim, and certainly his eineklach are the kindest and most compassionate people that exist in this world. We all know that a rebbe accepts every Yid from across the spectrum and never turns anyone away based on their dress code or religiosity. The aggressiveness that the author describes is completely untrue for those who have experienced being in the close circles of a heiliger rebbe. It’s ludicrous to suggest that a rebbe’s grandson would ever instruct anyone to spray another group of Yiddishe boys with water (for any reason).

Please don’t spread lies that can only destroy the achdus in Klal Yisrael.

G.B.

Fiction Fan [Calligraphy / Issue 1057]

After each mega Yom Tov edition, I resolve to write in, but I’ve never gotten to it, till now. Calligraphy is always an amazing collection of stories and I truly enjoy it. I have to restrict myself to only one story a day, otherwise I may finish it too fast! The writers all do a phenomenal job on the characters and pull you into the story no matter the setting. Thank you for the amazing job you continue to do! (The rest of the magazine was incredible as well; I just especially enjoy the story supplement.)

R.F.

Masterpiece [Calligraphy / Issue 1057]

I just finished reading the Calligraphy story “From Deep Waters” by Rachel Newton. The story took the reader through a literary storm, and it took me about an hour to completely recover and zone myself back to the present. I was absolutely shaking from the emotional and detailed historic experiences that she depicted — mostly unknown (and incomprehensible) to our generation.

Besides the top quality of her writing, Rachel must have put an abnormal amount of research into this article; every detail was evidently thought-out and perfectly described.

As usual with her writing, you feel not only that you are present in her story, but you can feel every single word of hers. I’m crazy over how she used specific words that were only used back then, which added so much to the thrill.

I look forward to reading each one of her articles, but what amazes me about this piece is that it was completely different than her regular style — and yet she totally nailed it. (Come to think of it, does she even have a style?)

You are extremely lucky to have Rachel on your team of writers and we readers are impatiently waiting to see more of her masterpieces!

Name Withheld

Not Too Young to Mourn [No Pity, No Pedestal / Issue 1056]

Thank you for the excellent Calligraphy edition that was part of this year’s Pesach magazine. From the first page, it conveyed hope and resiliency, something we all need in our lives, and I enjoyed the variety of stories within.

I also really appreciated the segment before Pesach on how children and teens today navigate life after the loss of a parent.

Sara Miriam Gross did a fabulous job putting together many of the different pieces that are part of a yasom’s life in an elucidated and sensitive manner. Her book Invisible Tribe does more than just validating and supporting grieving children and their families; it’s an eye opener to their experience for anyone involved in their lives, be it family, friends, or teachers. It’s written in a light tone that conveys the same message of this year’s Calligraphy and leaves the reader with hope and seeds of resilience.

There are other books out there for grieving children, teens, and parents being published in our frum world as well, and I find it encouraging to see that this is being addressed on a more public level. Personally, I would love to see more content for preschoolers, and I myself am working on such a book. I was a preschooler when my father died and would love to bring this resource to our young grievers. Many forget that they, too, are sad, despite their smiles and laughter.

I may be contacted through Mishpacha.

Judy Landman

Don’t Kosherize Social Media [At a Fast Clip / Issue 1056]

This letter is in regard to your article about Mr. Feder and his work posting videos of various neighborhood businesses on WhatsApp and other social media platforms. I would have written sooner, but preparing for Pesach came first.

Way back in 2012, the men of our community gathered in Citi Field for an asifah organized by TAG. They all understood the message of the Skulener Rebbe, Rav Matisyahu Salamon, and Rav Ephraim Wachsman, among other rabbanim, about the dangers of technology and social media.

Just a few years ago, the women of our community were inspired by the TAG Nekadesh event, and we, too, committed to working toward lowering our usage of the Internet, smartphones, and social media. Rav Wachsman’s line that “we need to be prophetic and not pathetic” still resonates with me. He spoke about seeing the end results of allowing ourselves to be complacent about the real dangers of social media.

Considering the above, I was really surprised that you ran a full length article on Mr. Feder. Yes, his work is interesting, he has a lot of followers, and I’m sure his videos don’t have any tzniyus issues. However, if our rabbanim have asked us to distance ourselves from social media, then how can you print an entire article extolling the virtues of this man’s social media successes? Your magazine prints inspiring vignettes of our rabbanim as the leaders of our community, showcasing their Torah views. Have our gedolim become just a source of stories and are no longer there to show us the way? As a Lakewood resident, I know that our rabbanim are aware that WhatsApp scrolling is destroying families, and they speak passionately about it. Does this not matter? Why have you printed an article that kosherizes the social media experience?

As a descendant of proud Hungarian Yidden, I’ve seen my father and grandfather kiss the hands of their rabbanim as a sign of love and subservience. They knew that the words of our gedolim are law and that we don’t second guess them. Have we as a community strayed so far?

Devorah Weiss

Lakewood, NJ

 (Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1059)