Food for the Soul

I am surprised (disappointed?) by how little food there is. Sure, there are platters of chicken, but they sit off in a corner, garnering little interest. In fact, food doesn’t seem to be on anyone’s minds. The room is dark but for the blue lights casting an electric glow on the crowd, which is growing more animated with each passing minute.

The crowd is a study in diversity, both in age — children and adults, some of whom are far older than me — and tradition, with black-jacketed men dancing alongside others sporting kippot serugot. But the differences melt into utter irrelevance.

Joey Newcomb stands at the front of the room with his guitar. Next to him is the talented Reb Yitz Ackerman, a vital member of the Hachana L’Shabbos team from Eretz Yisrael who flew in for this journey. A keyboard player and a percussionist — both part of the Hachana L’Shabbos team — play alongside them.

The tempo slows a bit and Joey starts yelling into the microphone: “Rabbeinu sha’ag b’kol gadol!” A hundred feet spring into the air. Up and down, up and down. “Ein shum yeiush, ein shum yeiush, ein shum yeiush ba’olam klal — There is no despair, there is no despair, there is no despair in the world at all.”

This isn’t a classic Shabbos song but, in a sense, it goes to the heart of Shabbos’s wonder. Rabbi Groner constantly emphasizes that Shabbos is the mekor habrachah, the source of all blessing. When you have Shabbos, you have blessing — and then, you truly have no reason to despair.

Going Global

Over time, the popularity of the weekly Mishmar, whose name was changed to Hachana L’Shabbos, began to grow. The crowd in the small room, which fit perhaps 25 occupants at most, was now spilling out onto the porch as attendees clambered to connect with the energy flowing within. Soon the event was moved into the beis medrash. Members of the community poured in, children and adults alike, but even with the larger accommodations, space was at a premium.

“Rabbi Groner has this very special way of connecting with people,” says Gedalia Hoffman, a talmid who recalls the very early days of Hachana L’Shabbos. “At the weekly Hachana, we have attendees from ages five to 70. Everyone knows each other. Everyone feels comfortable.”

“It’s like Simchas Torah every Thursday night,” says Yehudah Labinsky, another Ateres Shimon talmid. And this joy is entirely natural, Yehudah points out. This is a critical element to Hachana L’Shabbos. There is no alcohol whatsoever, a rule that applies to all events in the yeshivah.

Three years ago, Shua Lamstein of Pomona, New York, saw a video of Hachana L’Shabbos and was enraptured. “I just started with a few of the guys that I knew,” he recounts. “Then I found a few more high schoolers who weren’t doing much on Thursday nights and got them to join. Now it’s grown to 25 to 30 guys every week, high schoolers ranging from mainstream yeshivos to some of the more modern Orthodox schools and public school kids, all getting ready for Shabbos together every single Thursday night here in Pomona, New York.”

Shua’s rebbi, Rabbi Yaakov Klein of London, England, was inspired as well. Now, there are weekly Hachana L’Shabbos get-togethers in London. “It’s been unbelievable to be part of something so much bigger than ourselves, seeing how it’s spread from one community to the next and how people are slowly being inspired to not just enter Shabbos but really do hachanah from early on in the week,” Shua says. “I study seforim that focus on Shabbos, partially because I’m preparing for the Hachana, where I share divrei Torah.”

This wildly positive feedback inspired Rabbi Groner to consider taking things to the next level. “People were telling me that they looked forward to the Hachana L’Shabbos all week,” says Rabbi Groner. “People were telling me that it was truly strengthening their Shabbos.”

The idea of going “worldwide” had been floated on occasion, and then, in the years 2018 and 2019, the yeshivah went on trips to Eretz Yisrael, Baltimore, Orlando, and Chicago, holding Hachana L’Shabbos events in each location. But these were isolated occasions, not part of an organized mission. Until last year, when Rabbi Groner said, “Let’s do this. We’re going to change Shabbos throughout the world.”

The plan was straightforward: to designate one week for Hachana L’Shabbos in communities across the country. They would devise an itinerary where each night a week would find them in a different Jewish community. There, they would gather in a shul or other available venue and set up the musical arrangements along with food and beverages. The Hachana L’Shabbos — open to all men and boys of the community — would then be celebrated in its signature way, blending energy with introspection, excitement with reflectiveness.

The group embarked on its inaugural journey last year, and the impact left in the wake of the weeklong Hachana expedition was both immediate and significant.

“There was a tremendous energy and a longing for Shabbos even on a Sunday,” shares Eli Atias, who hosted the first Hachana in Baltimore. “And what surprised everybody was that you can actually feel Shabbos on a Sunday.”

On a deeper level, Eli discusses how the Hachana is causing people to connect their week with Shabbos.

“If we go about our day with the end goal being Shabbos and elevating our Shabbos, then our whole week is completely different,” he says, quoting Rabbi Groner.

This immense success inspired the motivation to go for a second round.

This year’s Hachana L’Shabbos journey took place during the first week of December; the group visited Baltimore, Columbus, Norfolk, Atlanta, and finally Orlando, where they remained for Shabbos, before returning home.

The logistics for these trips are dizzyingly complex, including the rental of numerous recreational vehicles (RVs), hotel stays, three meals a day for a week, and arrangements with the various communities where each night’s “Hachana” would be held. And, obviously, the fundraising to pay for all of it.

But none of that daunted Rabbi Groner. Shabbos is etched into his very essence — imbued in him from his youngest years by his father, Reb Shimon Groner.

Vessel of Blessing

“My father was a very big baal avodah,” Rabbi Groner shares. “Rav Yitzchok Hutner used to call him a ‘Shabbosdige Yid.’”

At the Groner home, Shabbos was a unique experience. “The seudos were very, very long. But it was always pleasant,” Rabbi Groner reflects. “It was never like ‘You have to sit at the table.’ It was positive, upbeat.”

There was no schmoozing, he recalls — it was all divrei Torah, very holy, and everyone felt lucky to be there.

“I always look back at those days and realize how my father instilled Shabbos in us. My feelings toward Shabbos, and those of my siblings, come from the way he loved Shabbos,” Rabbi Groner says.

Like his father, Rabbi Groner studied in Chaim Berlin, and its insistence on seeing all spiritual matters from a deep perspective influences his views on Shabbos — and preparation for Shabbos — as well.

“We are the kli, the vessel in which Shabbos is received,” he explains. “And the greater the kli is, the more Shabbos we receive.”

One makes himself into a greater kli through preparation, says Rabbi Groner.

One of the trademark Hachana L’Shabbos songs is set to the tune of Moshe emes v’soraso emes. Its lyrics are: “Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Shabbos.”  This isn’t simply an enumeration of the days of the week. “Shabbos is Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday,” Rabbi Groner expains. “Because every single day of the week should be preparing for Shabbos. The pasuk says that we should observe Shabbos — ‘laasos es haShabbos’ — to make Shabbos,” he shares. “In what way do we make Shabbos? The Sfas Emes explains, by preparing for it. By making ourselves a kli to receive its blessing. With our preparation, we make Shabbos.”

Before visiting a community, Rabbi Groner first connects with a local point person — usually the rav, sometimes a dedicated lay leader = — and shares this selling point.

“I explain that the only mitzvah where the Torah explicitly commands hachanah — preparation — is Shabbos,” Rabbi Groner says, referencing the pasuk in parshas Beshalach: “V’heichinu es asher yaviu — and they shall prepare what they will bring.”

He quotes Rav Gamliel Rabinowitz, who cites the Shaar Hakavanos emphasizing that this applies not only to physical tasks like cooking and baking, but also to spiritual preparation, beginning Thursday night.

“The Zohar teaches that one of the greatest keilim to receive the neshamah yeseirah is simchah,” Rabbi Groner tells them. “The more joy a person brings into Shabbos, the more elevated their Shabbos becomes.”

Different people connect in different ways — some through learning, others through heartfelt song and dance.

“At a Hachana L’Shabbos event, we help people tap into that joy — uplifting their Shabbos through music, connection, and celebration.”

Once communities hear the idea, the response is almost always the same: When can we bring this here?

Niggun Within

The music slows, as does the dancing. Joey and Yitz begin the hauntingly soulful Ribnitzer niggun, and everyone joins along. There are no words to this song; it’s a round of escalating “oy oy oys” that melodiously inspire a harmonizing rise of internal fervor. Eyes are clenched tight, the swaying grows more measured.

In the middle of the circle is Rabbi Groner. He’s pacing back and forth, clapping furiously — not to the melody’s slow rhythm but to that of its pulsing essence. It doesn’t seem that he’s consciously aware of what he’s doing. His hands are clapping to the beat of Shabbos, to the fervent excitement of its impending approach. Shabbos is coming! Its blessing is descending! We must make ourselves worthy! We must make ourselves into the greatest kli possible! Prepare yourselves! Shabbos is coming!

Transformation Through Preparation

Some 40 Ateres Shimon talmidim joined this Hachana L’Shabbos journey. It’s symbolic in a way — many of them have been on their own personal journeys leading to Rabbi Groner’s doorstep. Talmidim share how they entered yeshivah struggling with Yiddishkeit; Shabbos in particular was difficult to observe. But through the weekly Hachana L’Shabbos, everything — Shabbos, and all of Yiddishkeit — were transformed.

“Now, I don’t even work after chatzos on Erev Shabbos,” one talmid shares.

Hachana L’Shabbos doesn’t just inspire current talmidim — it generates talmidim as well.

“I met Rabbi Groner in a pizza shop in Brooklyn,” Eli Blau, a fellow talmid, shares. “The door to the shop swung open and in he walked, along with a group of talmidim. He came over to me and said, ‘Nice to meet you, I’m Rabbi Groner, what’s your name?’ I told him, and he said, ‘Can I show you a few videos?’ He showed me videos of Hachana L’Shabbos, and I was captivated.”

Eli lives in Monsey, but he couldn’t resist joining the Thursday night Hachana L’Shabbos. “I didn’t have a car so I took the New Jersey transit to Penn Station, then the LIRR (Long Island Rail Road) to Far Rockaway. After the Hachana L’Shabbos was over, I traveled back to Monsey.”

This went on for some two months. One day, Eli received a call from Rabbi Groner. “We’re going to Chicago to see Rav Shimon Galai. We’re leaving in three hours. Can you join?”

Eli went on the trip to Chicago, where they arranged a fervent Hachana L’Shabbos. When summer came around, Eli was invited to join the yeshivah in a summer home in the Catskills.

“When I came home, I told my father, ‘That’s it. I’m joining Groner’s.’ ”

“I’ve seen many people start keeping Shabbos because of Hachana L’Shabbos,” Eli says.

The local Hachana L’Shabbos differs from the cross-country experience, a one-off event which varies city to city.

Joey Newcomb remembers, “When the idea to travel across the country first came up, I was hesitant,” he says. “I really wasn’t sure we could make such an impact by just showing up in a community for two hours.” But his perspective soon changed.

“Then I saw with my own eyes how we were pumping the consciousness of Shabbos into people’s minds. Several shared that during the Hachana L’Shabbos, they went to the side and cried. So many are reaching out to us to request that we do a Hachana L’Shabbos in their community.”

Personally, I relate to those brought to tears by the atmosphere. A million words can’t describe the potency of the sincerest celebration of Shabbos, emanating from a unified mass of dancing and singing here in Columbus on a Monday night.

Cascade of Tefillah

The slow music now shifts to “Shaarei Shamayim Psach.” I’ve heard this song a million times by now, but this time, I don’t sense a trace of ‘tired’ or ‘cliché’ — because it really isn’t a song, it’s a torrential burst of tefillah. Shaarei Shamayim psach! Open the gates of Heaven!

And again, it’s not a Shabbos song per se, but its connection is apparent. In the merit of Shabbos, open the gates of Shamayim and shower us with the brachah we need so badly.

And then comes “V’yihyu rachamecha” — and this is where words really fail. Taken from the third stanza of Kah Echsof, authored by Rav Aharon Karliner, the words are “V’yihyu rachamecha misgolellim al am kodshecha — And may Your mercy cascade upon Your holy Nation.” There’s a purity to the tune, a crevice of sanctity siphoned from the vicissitudes of daily life. As we sing the words again and again, I feel all contemporaneity slipping away into that time-frozen oasis where Hashem’s mercy cascades upon His holy Nation.

And then the music picks up again, fast, spirited. Hands join, feet leap upward before setting to the song’s beat.

One of the final songs of the evening is “Tzavei Yeshuos Yaakov,” sung throughout the world on Simchas Torah. “Tzavei Yeshuos Yaakov! Command the salvation of Yaakov!” The song has a tone of assertiveness whose meaning has eluded me all these years. Dare we instruct the King of the universe to command salvation?

Now, though, I get it. Maybe we can’t — but Shabbos is the Queen, and  the Queen can. And in her merit, so can we.

Partnering with Hashem

A whirlwind trip with nightly stops in different communities has left a profound impression.

“We’re continuing to do more Hachana events,” says Eli Atias of Hachana in Baltimore — the first stop of Hachana’s week-long journey. “There’s no question it’s made an impact on the individual, but it’s going to also snowball into a community impact as well.”

Rabbi Shlomo Eisenberg of Norfolk, Virginia, shares how the group inspired one demographic in particular: the children.

“For our elementary-school-age boys, for our middle-school-age boys, for them to be able to see the excitement for Yiddishkeit, for Shabbos, the dancing and kumzitz, was a real chizuk,” he says.

The Hachana also allowed the community to feel part of something special — something other locations have felt as well.

“People thought it was incredible,” says Meir Perlmutter of Columbus. “We actually have a Hachana get-together every Friday, but nothing this level of energy. This raised the whole perspective of the city. The event was fire.”

Following this year’s Thursday night culminating event in Orlando, Rabbi Groner addressed his chevreh, the talmidim, colleagues, and friends who had joined him for the week-long experience. Speaking from a place of deep emotion, he shared how he truly believes that they are accomplishing more than just changing communities. Slowly, by bringing Shabbos into people’s consciousness, they are changing the world, and the sheer amount of messages the entire team has been getting to that effect highlights their impact.

“Hashem chose you to be an emissary for Shabbos Kodesh, which is Hashem’s day,” Rabbi Groner said. “Giving out Hashem’s present is not something simple. The Eibeshter is trusting you. Chevreh, run to Shabbos. Run to Shabbos Kodesh. Keep Shabbos. Tell Shabbos, ‘I’m here to stay.’ We’re here to be mekabel Shabbos.”

And to help others to that end, as well, it seems. The group’s return flight from Orlando was delayed multiple times, and they had to switch to a different flight that would take off from the Miami International Airport. As they sat in the lounge waiting to board, a woman turned to Shmuli Radin, one of the Hachana members, and pointed to the logo on his jacket.

“What is this Hachana L’Shabbos?” she asked.

Shmuli explained that the group travels the country inspiring Jews about the beauty of Shabbos and the importance of preparing in its honor.

“I’m Jewish,” the woman responded. “For a while my family has been looking to grow more affiliated. We can’t find the right people to talk to.”

Shmuli spoke deliberately. “I’m here for this reason,” he said. “Hashem sent me on this trip, and put me on this flight, to talk to you.”

In the days that followed, Shmuli managed to connect the family with various rabbis who are happy to help them. Through Hachana L’Shabbos, yet another few neshamos will grow closer to Hashem.

Because, as Rabbi Groner says, this isn’t about changing communities. With the power of Shabbos, we can change the world.

It’s an hour and a half back from Columbus to Cincinnati. Same amount of time as the way in; same Highway 71 — this time south rather than north.

But the similarities end there. The boring, quiet, uneventful, has made way for a vibrancy the likes of which I have rarely, if ever, felt.

My ears echo with resounding renditions. The spirited Geshmak to be a Yid, the deep yearning of V’yihyu rachamecha, the haunting Ribnitzer’s niggun and then the shout, almost the battle cry of “Tzavei yeshuos Yaakov!”

It was a Monday night but not really.

Shabbos was just around the corner.

I knew it.

A hundred new friends in Columbus knew it.

A secular woman in the Miami International Airport knows it.

And soon, the whole world will know it as well.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1092)