A Place of His Own

Amid the stream of devastating bereavement announcements over this last blood-soaked Chol Hamoed Succos, the one declaring “Yaakov Hillel,” who was killed in action, stood out for many people in Israel and beyond. Not because it was any more or less tragic than the others, but because it’s the name of one of the most revered mekubalim of the generation.

From the first moments of the shivah, Yaakov’s grieving father Rabbi Chaim Hillel — founder of Shalom La’am a sprawling outreach organization under his father’s auspices — was candid about his son’s unusual path. In a dynasty of lamdanim and rabbanim, this was the grandson who’d chosen to join the army.

As he and his wife Rikki share the trajectory that their son took, from a bochur in yeshivah ketanah to Golani soldier, they discuss Am Yisrael’s mutual responsibility, chinuch in a complicated generation, and the fraught topic of army service in the chareidi world.

“Yaakov was born on Tishah B’Av twenty one years ago,” he relates, “the third of ten children. My father was abroad for a medical procedure and couldn’t participate in the bris, so we decided to name the baby after him [as per the Sephardic custom to name after living parents].”

Yaakov’s bris was held in the home of Rav Ezriel Auerbach in Jerusalem. “I wanted Rav Elyashiv [Rav Ezriel’s father-in-law] to be the sandek,” Reb Chaim remembers. “So, we held the bris in the home of Rav Ezriel and merited for the gadol hador — to whom my father was very close — to serve as Yaakov’s sandek.”

Yaakov grew up as part of a happy clan of siblings and cousins, but already as a young boy, his academic struggles were evident. Still, his parents made sure he would experience success in whichever ways he could.  “Even though he struggled with learning, he had a normal, happy childhood. We provided plenty of extracurricular outlets, and we allowed him to express his energy in various activities and trips.”

But as he finished yeshivah ketanah, it became clear to his parents that something wasn’t working. Yaakov felt that he couldn’t find himself, that he wasn’t able to bring out the best in himself.

Handling a child who chooses a different path from his parents’ is always challenging. But Reb Chaim has a philosophy about it.

“This generation is looking for a place that will bring their learning to life, make them feel fulfilled in the world. Sometimes the system they grew up in isn’t the right fit,” he says. “Parents need to understand that to deal with a struggling child, you have to coax out their joy in life, to help them find themselves socially, to find their place in the family, to have an authentic experience that meets their needs at that formative age. During the shivah I told the many people who came to be menachem avel: If each one of us invested just one hour a week in the young people around us, to hear them out and challenge them in ways that will help them fulfill themselves, we’d all be in a different place.”

Open Line

While Yaakov’s path diverged from the route he saw in his parents’ home, there was always an open line between father and son, which proved crucial in the years ahead.

“When Yaakov felt that he wasn’t finding himself, he came to talk to me about it.” Reb Chaim says. “It isn’t always that way. Many teens don’t share their struggles. It depends a lot on the parent. It’s our responsibility as parents to create an environment in which the child comes to talk to you and share, even when they’re struggling. It comes only from a place of trust, a sense that we’re in this together, and not from a place of criticism or judgement. It isn’t easy to say, much less to do, but it’s an obligation for a parent who wants to protect their child’s soul.”

The guiding light in the Hillels’ approach was the clear understanding that their son had chosen a new path, and their role as parents was to guide him along terrain that was as unfamiliar to them as to him. They ignored their son’s changing externals and focused on what matters.

“Sometimes our struggling teens leave behind some of our externals and then are made to feel that they no longer have a connection to Hashem – which becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy,” Reb Yaakov says.  “So we told him over and over that he had a relationship with Hashem that was uniquely his. That lesson was deeply absorbed. He lived with it for the rest of his life.”

But for years, it was very bumpy going, on a trajectory that was drawing him inexorably away from the standard educational frameworks. At a certain point in his post-yeshivah ketanah life, Yaakov decided to apply to a yeshivah with a unique learning style. He sat and learned night and day, put in an immense effort, but sadly, he wasn’t accepted. Yaakov was left tremendously disheartened by the experience and he found himself at a loss.

At that point, his father stepped in. As founder of a kiruv organization with more than 200 midrashot (study centers) across the country, Reb Chaim possesses unusual entrepreneurial skills that he leveraged to create a bespoke new framework for his son.

“Along with a friend, I founded a small group that integrates Torah learning with agriculture. I spoke with Yaakov and he decided that was the place that would help him fulfill himself,” he says. “Thanks to our acceptance and the fact that we always shared everything with each other, he experienced those years in a very special way. That can’t be taken for granted at all. Every parent of a child who deals with challenges like these can testify that it’s extremely difficult. But I felt that it was my duty to him.”

Reb Chaim pauses for a moment and takes a breath before he continues. “A child of any age wants to develop their identity. A child with a developing sense of independence wants to know that he’s trusted, that you understand that he’s his own person and he’s okay. My wife and I tried with all our might to let him know that. I told him again and again: ‘I trust you.’”

Drawing Boundaries

A grandson of one of the preeminent Torah builders of our time who has built a Torah empire of thousands of avreichim and dozens of institutions, young Yaakov Hillel was never likely to enjoy timewasting. But his father made sure that from the outset of his evolution, sitting around wasn’t an option.

“There were a few points I made clear to him at the start of his journey,” Reb Chaim says. “First, I told him that the worst thing in the world is to be a batlan, because the path from boredom to self-destruction is short. He really connected to that and was always doing something. He didn’t rest for a moment. When you draw the child’s attention to their strong points and allow them to express those traits, that’s what will elevate them and get them back on track.”

In that focus on productivity as an end in itself, Reb Chaim looked to his own father as a role model. When one of the extended Hillel clan struggled in his teens, Rav Yaakov Hillel offered him a role managing one of the Ahavas Shalom institutions, which stabilized him.

A second guiding principle for Reb Chaim was to stay ahead of the curve, work out where his son could end up in the worst-case scenario, and lay down appropriate red lines.

“It’s a basic principle of chanoch l’naar al pi darko — you have to understand where the child is, identify their challenges when the deterioration begins, and lay down the line slightly further out than where they are now. Because if you’re constantly laying down lines that he’s already crossed, it’s a lost cause.”

In Reb Chaim and Rikki Hillel’s case, those red lines existed with Yaakov’s full cooperation. His father would talk to him, explain to him what was hard for them as parents to accept and what they could accept.

“Once he understood things in depth, he stayed within the boundaries we set together and stood by them fiercely,” Reb Chaim relates. “I’ll share an example. I told Yaakov that one of the things that destroys a person is a nonkosher cellphone. I asked him to be firm about this. I didn’t comment on his appearance or what type of kippah he wore, but a nonkosher phone was a red line for me. And he stuck to that boundary to his last day, because it was done at the right time, with a sound explanation of the harm.

“In one of our conversations,” he continues, “I asked him if he would want his brother to have an unprotected device. He was really horrified, and that really clarified it for him. We listened to each other, we understood each other, and we set the boundaries together.”

Pivotal Decision

At the age of 19, Yaakov started learning in a yeshivah in Jerusalem alongside his work at the farm. “On Shabbosos he was always with us. It was very important for me that he experience a home and family,” his mother Rikki takes up the narrative. “And he really stood by that.He was very responsible, very devoted to the family, and even when he chose a different path, he always insisted on preserving his Yiddishkeit.

“On Shabbos he would go into the forest near our home and daven Kabbalas Shabbos. The neighbors all remember the sounds that came from the forest, his davening, his cries to our Father in Heaven. One of the condolence wishers who came by, a friend who served with him in the army, told me that last Rosh Hashanah, which they spent at the base, he saw him trembling with tears at the piyut, Okad Vehane’ekad. He had a deep inner connection to HaKadosh Baruch Hu.

“I thank Hashem for every single moment,” Reb Chaim says. “There absolutely were moments when I had to struggle not to be ashamed of him. But I withstood the test. I always insisted that he be next to me, that he sit next to me, even if his dress was different and he stood out. I always insisted on letting him know that I was proud of him. I realized that if I sent a different message, I’d be hurting him and myself. I always said to him: ‘I see your inner self, not your external appearance.’ Thanks to all the above we merited an amazing child, a yerei Shamayim, who busied himself with doing good.”

Life of Service

Two years ago, Yaakov showed up in his father’s room for a talk. He’d thought things through and was considering going to the army. In the prewar atmosphere, it was far from a given, even for many secular teens — all the more so given Yaakov’s background.

“I told him that I couldn’t decide for him because of the spiritual danger it entailed,” Reb Chaim relates. “He recognized the danger, too. It was clear to both of us that the army remains a melting pot, that it has ulterior goals beyond defending the Jewish People. I told him to go consult with rabbanim. He sought the counsel of Teveria’s Rav Dov Kook. Rav Kook also refused to decide for him and told him that it was up to him. After a lot of hesitation, he made up his mind.

“The moment he reached a decision,” says Reb Chaim, “I accepted it fully. I saw that he was full of determination. I told him just one thing: If you’re doing it, do it all the way. Do it to defend Eretz Yisrael and Am Yisrael. And above all, be useful, and don’t chalilah be an idler who does nothing even in the army.”

“He confided in my husband — he was afraid to tell me,” Mrs. Rikki Hillel remembers. “He must have known that I would be more frightened, both for his spiritual and for his physical safety. But when we understood that that was what he wanted, we trusted him and prayed in our hearts that he would do well. That he would do good for himself and Am Yisrael.”

“In my heart of hearts,” says Reb Chaim, “I felt like it was the right decision for him. Because if not that, he may have faced much greater challenges. I felt that this task could be the right thing for him.”

Going for Golani

Determined to make a difference, Yaakov Hillel enlisted and found himself in at the deep end, both in physical and spiritual terms. He opted not to serve in a chareidi unit, but rather the Golani infantry brigade, where he rose to serve in the elite reconnaissance unit. There, specifically among the tinokos shenishbu, with his big kippah, tzitzis and tefillin, and insistence on davening in a minyan, he became a symbol. The kiddush Hashem was immense.

“I was very happy with the journey he took, even if there were times when it hurt. But I took pleasure every day in who he was, in his inner strength, his pnimiyus, and his ability to distinguish between truth and falsehood and always go with his truth,” Reb Chaim says.

During his service, Yaakov had countless conversations with his father. “I told him again and again: It’s great to be a good soldier, but the main thing is spirituality. If your aim is to defend Am Yisrael, to know that you’re fighting as a Jew for the Jewish people and our land, then you’re not just another soldier like the soldiers of other armies.”

Consistent with his longstanding approach, Reb Chaim spent a lot of time guiding Yaakov through his new environment, and discussing his mission. Yaakov felt it keenly and discussed with his friends the fact that a Jewish soldier isn’t like an American Navy Seal, but rather fights wars with the knowledge that he’s defending Am Yisrael and Hashem is on his side.

Final Mission

Then came a regular phone call that, in retrospect, turned out to be the final conversation. On Erev Yom Kippur, Yaakov called his father to tell him that his unit was going to enter Lebanon.

“Of course I was aware of the danger,” Reb Chaim says quietly. “I knew what could happen. Yaakov knew very well what he was getting into. He told me explicitly: ‘If I have to die, may I merit to die al kiddush Hashem.’ ”

The Golani brigade entered southern Lebanon on Motzaei Yom Kippur, with its mission to raid the village of Ayta ash Shab in southern Lebanon and clear it of terrorists. The troops found the village almost completely deserted and began combing the buildings to locate Hezbollah tunnel shafts and bunkers.

“We must recognize the miracle that occurred in this village, where hundreds of terrorists had been positioned, and where every house and every room had enormous amounts of arms and ammunition,” Reb Chaim relates. “The miracle was that they all fled! Fewer than twenty terrorists remained behind, several of whom were taken alive. But even that small group caused enormous destruction. Who knows what would have happened had just a handful more remained to defend the town? And for this we owe thanks to Hashem.”

On Erev Succos, hours before Yom Tov, Yaakov and his comrades entered one of the buildings. He was part of the force ordered to clear the house, and while he wasn’t supposed to be one of the first to enter the building, he insisted on joining.

“Their orders were to scan the first floor and the basement,” Reb Chaim recounts. “In their preliminary search they discovered a tunnel shaft under the house. When they went in the second time their task was to prepare the structure for the Yahalom combat engineering unit, which would raze it.

“When the soldiers entered the building’s second story, they were ambushed by a terrorist. They eliminated him instantly but there were four more terrorists behind him, in the attic. Seconds before the terrorists were eliminated they managed to open fire on the troops, killing Yaakov and four other soldiers.”

Five soldiers were tragically killed and five more were injured in the battle. Three of them, including Yaakov, died on the spot.

In hindsight, Reb Chaim discovered something both strange and elevating about the timing of his son’s death. As Yaakov was battling the terrorists, his father was making his way to the mikveh. On the way he had an epiphany about how parents pray for their children who are in danger.

“I davened to Hashem that Yaakov would bring real benefit to Am Yisrael even from where he was, in battle, after the battle, and in his own way,” Reb Chaim says. “I thought about his future and for the first time, I davened that over the course of his life he would do something great for Am Yisrael, that over the course of his life he would have an impact on Am Yisrael. In retrospect, that was my last tefillah for him in his life.”

Shortly after 2 a.m. that night came the knock on the door with the terrible news. “We couldn’t mourn, because of the chag. In the first moments it was hard, but later we came to see it as a blessing,” Reb Chaim admits. “We were with the children, we digested it, we analyzed it, we talked about it. We shared our feelings with each other. If we’d had to run to a levayah and then immediately sit shivah, I don’t know how we would have borne it.

“HaKadosh Baruch Hu orchestrates everything in the world and gives us the challenges we can meet. Even in this small thing, the fact that the shivah was delayed by a week, we saw the Hand of Hashem.”

Torah above All

The emotions Reb Chaim has been experiencing since that Yom Tov night won’t fade quickly.

“I tell others and especially myself: Yaakov, Hashem yikom damo, knew the danger and did it anyway, in an act of literal mesirus nefesh. We felt that he had an inner voice leading him to Hashem. We’re not looking for someone to blame or be angry at. It was the Will of Hashem, especially since we believe that every person has a predetermined life span and Hashem has countless ways to take anyone He wants home. Yaakov merited to be mekadesh Shem Shamayim in life and we believe that because of this, he merited to be mekadesh Shem Shamayim with his death, in the act of killing terrorists and giving his life for Am Yisrael.

During the shivah, discussion inevitably turned to the circumstances of the soldiers’ deaths. Someone asked why there was no K9 unit available to scour the building first before the soldiers went in. The Hillels refused to go down that route.

“Are the dogs what matter? We live with total faith that every bullet has an address,” Reb Chaim told those around him. “Everyone has an allotted span of life. Yaakov was meant to leave the world and HaKadosh Baruch Hu chose a beautiful death for him, in the act of voluntarily giving his life for Klal Yisrael. That’s the purest thing possible.”

In the days since Motzaei Simchas Torah, thousands from all walks of life came to offer the Hillel family their condolences. Unsurprisingly, the chareidi draft issue came up in many of those conversations, and Reb Chaim expressed dismay at the hatred and bitter divide that the issue has brought forth in society.

“Chareidi society has a combination of responsibility and gratitude,” Reb Chaim repeated many times at the shivah. “Those who are in the beis medrash uphold the world through their Torah. That’s a responsibility: to internalize the fact that we’re upholding the universe and protecting Am Yisrael with our Torah, and live with that knowledge in a very authentic way.

“In parallel we have to know that the soldiers who are endangering their lives — often leaving wives and children at home — to protect Am Yisrael deserve hakaras hatov. We have to thank them for their sacrifice.”

There are few people as equipped to see life through that dual lens as Rabbi Chaim Hillel. As someone who was sent by his father to the Yiddish-speaking Meah Shearim Cheider, grew up surrounded by the elite of the Torah world in his father’s institutions, and then went on to encounter all walks of Israeli life — from traditional Sephardim to secular kibbutznikim — in his outreach work, he is alive to the great divide on army service.

He refers to those who look askance at the non-serving chareidi public and notes that it may not be possible to bridge the gulf of worldview on the subject, but that this fact doesn’t absolve the religious world from realizing the full extent of their own responsibilities.

“We don’t expect the secular public to recognize the value of Torah — how can they possibly appreciate the metaphysical reality that Torah study protects Am Yisrael?” he asks. “So we have to do what we know to be true, which is maintain Torah as the focus of our world and understand that success will come through them thanks to our Torah and davening.

“That goes hand-in-hand with a genuine sense of gratitude to the soldiers. We’re not talking about blind admiration or belief in the values of the army, but of being thankful. The Torah saves and protects, and they’re physically risking their lives as part of the process through which HaKadosh Baruch Hu works miracles.”

As the father of a soldier whose own son, and many of that son’s outwardly-irreligious friends, went knowingly into battle willing to die al kiddush Hashem, Reb Chaim wants to set the record straight.

“The disrespect toward soldiers I sometimes encounter has no place. These people are being mekadesh Shem Shamayim,” he says. “We have to ask ourselves: Are we feeling the pain of the soldiers families enough, for their extended absences, for the fear they go through as their sons, husbands and fathers are on the front lines?”

It’s a clarity about the world that Yaakov himself possessed, says his father.

“Yaakov, Hashem yikom damo,” Reb Chaim continues, “prized Torah learners more than anything. There was never any argument about that. In his personal case, he felt that that was his tafkid.

“And don’t get me wrong,” Reb Chaim continues. “I fully believe that the Torah learner’s mission is harder, even at this time. Because forsaking all the vanities of this world and devoting oneself to learning Torah is harder than any other battle. Yaakov also believed and said that. He often said: ‘I’m capable of being a soldier, but I’m not capable of investing myself fully in learning Torah.’ ”

Hashem Gives, Hashem Takes

Rabbi Chaim Hillel has one more point he wants to make, drawing attention to the circumstances of his son’s death. On Motzaei Yom Tov of the first day of Succos, two events were approved for public announcement: the death of Yaakov and his fellow soldiers in Lebanon, and the elimination of the head of Hamas, Yahya Sinwar.

“It turns out that the two battles occurred at the same time. The soldiers didn’t enter the building and identify Sinwar until the next day, but he was eliminated around the same time that Yaakov fell in Lebanon.

“I have no doubt that the two are connected,” he says. “When Yaakov ascended to the Heavens, he took up the snake’s head with him. Everything has a reason and Hashem’s Hand is behind everything. When he takes away something precious that means the world to us, he also brings a great blessing to the world, as a consolation to Am Yisrael.”

Having raised his children to think of their purpose in the world, Reb Chaim and Rikki Hillel reflect on their son’s personal journey; how out there in the religious world there are many others desperate for a guiding hand, a warm smile and some understanding. How they too could be shown the inner pnimiyus of their connection to Hashem, in a system that often focuses on externals, which would build their unique path in avodas Hashem.

A man of action, that thought process has led Rabbi Chaim Hillel to make a concrete request. “During the shivah, I had an epiphany. Yaakov, Hashem Yikom damo, was killed al kiddush Hashem for the sake of Am Yisrael, because he chose to go to the front lines.

“So, maybe I have both the duty and zechus to make a request from anyone who’s moved by Yaakov’s story: Take an hour a week to try and connect to the younger generation. Each and every one of us can be mekadesh shem Shamaim by giving of ourselves to the other, to smile, learn, listen, volunteer, and help.

“How many other Yaakovs are out there in our world?” says Rabbi Hillel, “and how far can a smile and helping hand go in setting them on their path for life?”

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1036)