True tales from the corners of our world

The Background

A shiur I gave in Manchester many years ago had an impact that continues to reverberate — way beyond what I could have imagined.

M

any years ago, I was asked to speak at an evening fundraiser for a school in Manchester, England, and then to give a shiur the next morning in a local shul for an organization. The shiur, called “Start Your Day The Torah Way,” would be fateful in ways I could never have predicted.

I prepared a simple half-hour shiur on the parshah, which that week was Chayei Sarah, and I titled it, “The Expiration Date of Inspiration.”

“We know that when Avraham Avinu’s servant Eliezer came to Charan to find a wife for Yitzchak Avinu, he proposed a bunch of tests to make sure that she would be the right girl,” I began. “When he encountered Rivkah, and he was satisfied with the outcome of his tests, he gave her lots of jewelry and asked her if her father’s house had room to accommodate him. By the time Rivkah had relayed the visitor’s request to her father and brother, there was no question in anyone’s mind that Eliezer was a very wealthy man and that this was the kind of shidduch that comes along once in a lifetime.

“Rivkah’s family was very excited. How do we know this? Because Lavan ran out to greet Eliezer and invited him to stay with them, telling him that he had cleaned out the house and there was plenty of room for him and his camels. And regarding the prospective shidduch, Lavan uses a line that is very out of character for him.

“What does he say? ‘Mei’Hashem yatza hadavar — This thing is from Hashem.’

“With these unexpected words, our archenemy Lavan is starting to sound like the frummest guy on the block. Clearly the family is in favor of the shidduch.

“But then something happens that doesn’t seem to make sense. Just a few pesukim later, Lavan’s tone changes. Suddenly he goes from speaking about the greatness of the shidduch to singing a different tune.

“ ‘What’s the rush?’ he asks Eliezer. ‘Rivkah is so young. Maybe we should wait….’

“They call Rivkah in and she settles the matter by saying that she wants to go with Eliezer — and this part of the story ends. But the question of why Lavan changed his mind almost from one pasuk to the next remains.

“What made Lavan change his mind?” I asked the room. “He was so excited about the shidduch, so pumped about the idea that his sister was going to marry the son of Avraham Avinu! What happened? The answer is this:

“Night came, and Lavan went to sleep. When he woke up in the morning, he wasn’t excited anymore. The inspiration from the previous night was gone. Now he wasn’t so interested in the shidduch. Now he thought it might be a better idea to wait for another couple of years until his sister was older and more mature.

“This is what happens when we sleep on our inspiration. We lose it. And because it is so easy for inspiration to slip away, when it strikes, it is crucial that we take some sort of action to acquire it, make it ours. It could be anything from learning a few lines in a particular sefer to saying a particular perek of Tehillim. But make sure you have a way of being koneh [acquiring] the inspiration and bringing it down to earth and into your life.”

The shiur went over well. When I finished, people came over to thank me and introduce themselves. Not long after that, I left for the airport to catch my flight back to Eretz Yisrael.

About ten years after that first shiur for Start Your Day The Torah Way, I was giving a talk somewhere else, and afterward a young man approached me.

After introducing himself, he said, “I have to tell you something. I’ve been waiting a long time to tell you this. I was at the speech you gave in Manchester for Torah Way.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Yes,” he said. “You asked why Lavan changed his mind about the shidduch. You brought out the yesod that when a person gets inspiration, he needs to strike when the iron is hot and to be koneh that moment when it arrives, because otherwise it will disappear.

“I heard that and told myself, You’ve been trying to stop smoking for so many years. Every day you tell yourself you’re going to stop tomorrow. But you never do. Because you are never koneh the moment when the inspiration strikes. This is the moment! Right now, I am making the decision to stop smoking and to do what’s best for my health!

“Rabbi Seltzer, since that morning in Manchester I have never picked up another cigarette. I took your message to heart and I was koneh the moment with a real action. And I have never looked back.”

Incredible! I would never have guessed that someone in the audience could be affected by my words that morning to such a degree. I was extremely moved by his story, and when we parted I knew that I would never forget how a few words shared in a shul after davening could cause a fellow Yid to stop smoking.

But the story wasn’t over yet.

IN July 2024 I received an email from Rabbi Josh Boretsky of the Jerusalem Kollel asking me to speak at the banquet for its annual Yarchei Kallah. I was one of the original members of the Jerusalem Kollel, a kiruv kollel founded by Rav Yitzchak Berkovits. The kollel’s annual Yarchei Kallah brings together alumni from around the world for a few days to learn together, hearing shiurim from Rav Berkovits, and engage in roundtable discussions on kiruv matters. It all culminates with the banquet — and Rabbi Boretsky was inviting me to speak. I immediately accepted this great honor.

The banquet speech went over well, baruch Hashem, and after Maariv, on my way out, a member of the kollel I had never met before approached me.

He introduced himself and said, “I was at a parshah shiur you gave in Manchester many years ago.”

I immediately knew what he was referring to.

“You mean the one with Lavan.”

“Yes. You spoke about how a person needs to grab hold of the moments of inspiration when they arrive and how we need to be koneh them immediately and make them ours before they disappear,” he said. “I want to tell you something — I was not doing well at that time in my life. I was involved in a number of bad activities and had been kicked out of yeshivah. Then I heard your speech. And I understood from your words that I had to act immediately. That morning, I returned to my yeshivah. I told the mashgiach I was ready to go the distance and make the changes I needed to make.

“Today I am learning in the Jerusalem Kollel. But it all goes back to that shiur in Manchester, when I understood that inspiration has an expiration date, and I couldn’t afford to let the moment pass me by.”

I learned something very powerful from my two encounters with people who heard that shiur in Manchester many years ago: You never know how strong an effect your words will have on other people.

I think this is a crucial lesson for the thousands of erliche maggidei shiur, rebbeim, and morahs who dedicate their lives to educating the children of Klal Yisrael. It is also a lesson for the many people who speak to audiences around the world, and for those who do kiruv on campuses and in community kollels, and for those who offer words of inspiration to people sitting in shul between Minchah and Maariv, and for those who teach Daf Yomi.

Because every time that you get up to speak, to share your soul, there is a good chance your words are going to inspire. Maybe they will even change a life.

You may learn of your accomplishments only 20 years later — or maybe you’ll find out only at 120. It doesn’t really matter, because Hashem knows what your words accomplished. The main thing is to keep on teaching, speaking, and inspiring — because you never know how your words will change someone else’s life.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1028)