Historic Treasures · Episode 244 · 11 Teves 5785 · 15:59
The Difference a Couple Noticed About Different Rebbes
In honor of Parshas Vayechi, the episode explains the teaching of our Sages, “Yaakov our father did not die,” and draws from it the lesson that a person’s passing is a transition, not a tragedy. It presents a handwritten letter by the Frierdiker Rebbe about his interrogation by Soviet investigators during his imprisonment. The letter says that one who has one world and two gods fears the “toy” (the gun), while one who has two worlds and one G-d does not fear it. Also included are the Rebbe’s explanation of the designation “Hamakom” in the traditional words of consolation, given during a condolence visit to the Satmar Rebbe in the 1950s, and the reason more parshiyos concern Yaakov than Avraham. The episode concludes with a story about a childless couple who approached the Rebbes of Satmar, Bobov and Chabad. The Rebbe gave the husband a pair of tefillin and instructed him to put them on every day; a year later, they had a daughter.
The original video on COLlive · The series on Chabadpedia (Hebrew)
Automatic transcript of the original English recording.
Hebrew translation, side by side →
Welcome to our weekly Mivtza Shabbos program.
The parsha we read this morning is called Vayechi, even though it speaks about Yaakov's death. But it's called Vayechi, as Rashi says: Yaakov did not die, since he left over children who are alive — so Yaakov is alive. So by Yaakov it doesn't say "and he died," because — it doesn't say this by Avraham, even though Avraham had a child, and it doesn't say this by Yitzchak either, because he had a son. But when a person leaves over children who are all alive, then they are alive. And as it says: when they die, they are called life; when they are alive, they are called death.
Before he passed away, he said, "I'm going to heaven, and I'm leaving." He said it because — what makes the Rebbe alive? When we learn the Rebbe's teachings, when we learn, then the Rebbe is alive. And the same thing goes also with people: when people leave children — that's why I once said, first comes life. If a person has good children, that's a whole life; then the life is a life. And then you have the parshiyos.
So this parsha teaches that when a person passes away, it's not a tragedy — it's a transition. He goes from one place to the other place. There's a story — I think I mentioned the story before — there's a letter that the Frierdiker Rebbe wrote, in his own handwriting also, to Rabbi Rabel [?], where he wrote about the interrogation by the KGB. They took him, and everybody had a gun on him, and they told him [to be afraid]. Whoever has one world and two gods is afraid of this "toy" — he called the gun a toy — but whoever has two worlds and one G‑d is not afraid of this toy. In other words: now he is here in this world, and then he's going to the other world — it's a transition, it's not a tragedy.
And I think the Rebbe once mentioned that this applies to every religious Jew: a Jew's influence, after he passes away, is even more than before, because — speaking about every person — he is in a guf, in a body, and he's limited; after he passes away, he's unlimited, so his influence can be more than before. But this is called "alive" — we can learn from him.
This reminds me of when the Rebbe went to be menachem avel the old Satmar Rebbe, in 1953 or '54. By the question I heard, there was somebody else — but I was told it was [unclear] — but it doesn't matter. The answer from the Rebbe: he was asked why we say the expression "HaMakom" to a mourner — it's called "HaMakom," "the place," because there is no place in the world that is not there, so it says "the place" — why not another name? So the Rebbe answered him: every Jew has a place in this world; now that the person has passed away, that place is empty, but there's no emptiness — that place, before, when the body was in a guf, was limited; now, since it's not in a guf, that place — you can learn out from that person now much more than when the person was alive.
So when a person passes away, it's not a tragedy. The question is asked — we see, I think, that he cried before he passed away. Why did he cry, if it's only a transition? So why did he cry? It's not a tragedy. He cried not because he's going — he's going to Gan Eden — he cried because he won't be able to put on tefillin, he won't be able to do a mitzvah. That's what bothered him, not [the passing itself]. So life is about faith, love, and fear of G‑d.
Since all Yidden come from Yaakov — everybody — we see that in the whole Torah we can learn out a lesson from this more than from anything else. How do we see it? Two parshiyos happen within almost 2,000 years. I'm sure more things happened in that time — many more things happened in those almost 2,000 years — but since there's nothing for us to learn from them as a lesson, the Torah doesn't tell you anything. That's two parshiyos within a period of almost 2,000 years.
Then Avraham's story happens in a period of 100 years, because the Torah says he was 75 years old, and he passed away at 175. These three parshiyos basically speak about Avraham. So from the three parshiyos we can learn a lesson; other things happened, but the Torah doesn't tell you, because there's nothing we can learn out, only what the Torah says.
Then comes Yitzchak, who lived 180 years — so we learn from this in our everyday life. From here, six parshiyos happen in a period of maybe 60 years — around 60 years, six parshiyos. Why? Because there is more for us to learn from Yaakov than from Avraham. The six parshiyos — Yaakov is called the chosen one, because he left over children who were all righteous — and that's why we see six parshiyos in a period of 60 years.
Now all Yidden are called Yisrael, and we also say — somebody once asked the Rebbe, one of the [unclear], asked the Rebbe, "How could it be...?" So the Rebbe said, "I'll ask you also a question: how can it be that we don't know who is higher, who is lower, among Yisrael?"
So, since this is Shabbos, I want to end off here with a personal story.
I'll end off with a personal story. My wife and I went to a bris in Long Beach, New York. I was sitting — I'll make it brief — I was sitting next to, across from, somebody, and he asked me, "Are you [a rabbi]?" I said, "Yeah." So he tells me: "I'll tell you something. I wasn't religious, I wasn't from [a religious background]. My wife and I — we were married 14, I think 15, years — my wife didn't have children for 14 years, I think 15 years. She wanted a child, didn't have children. So I went to doctors, and they said they can't [help]. Somebody came to me and said, 'Why don't you go to a Rebbe?' I didn't believe in Rebbes, I don't believe." And he didn't believe — he said he didn't want to go. It took him weeks until he was convinced to go, to go to any Rebbe. He says, "Who should I go to?" So he was told there are three Rebbes in New York; you can go to either one you want, or you can go to all three of them. It took a long time, but I was convinced.
He took him first to the old Satmar Rebbe. He came in, [waited] for a yechidus — that's what he tells me — and the Satmar Rebbe opened his drawer and took out a kamea — a piece of cloth, like this big, maybe smaller, a cloth wrapped around, and inside, very hard. And he said, "You should hold it in your pocket all the time, whenever you go out, except Shabbos — on Shabbos you cannot carry this — but you have to tell me that you're going to have it. It's a kamea," he gave him, "but don't open it." While I was sitting there — this was years later — I said, "Do you still have it?" He says, "Yeah," and he took it out of his pocket — I saw it, a kamea, a piece of cloth wrapped around, hard. He says, "I always carry it. I don't know what this is."
Then he took him to the old Bobover Rebbe, so he gave him [unclear] — he says [unclear]. Anyway, then he went — he says, "I went to the Rebbe" — so the Rebbe asked him a lot of questions, showed interest, opened his drawer, and gave him a pair of tefillin, and said, "You put on tefillin every single day, and it will help you."
After a year, he says, he had a girl. This was years and years ago; his girl is now probably five or six years old. That's all he has. He says to me, "Do you want to see the girl?" I said, "Sure." So he took me to his wife, and he says, "This is the girl." So I told his wife, "I heard his story." She says, "Yes." So I asked his wife, "Who did the miracle — did the Satmar Rebbe do the miracle, or did the Bobover, or did the Lubavitcher?" She says, "Rabbi, I don't know who did the miracle, but I'll tell you one thing: this piece of cloth, maybe it's holy — he always has it in his pocket, I don't know what it is, he holds onto it, and he tries to eat with a [unclear]. But I'll tell you one thing: he goes to shul every single morning, and he puts on tefillin every single morning, because that's what he feels gave him the miracle. I don't know maybe [which one it was], but what happened — he changed, he became completely [observant]. He goes to shul."
So here we see that we don't know — everyone — how they become who they become; we all come from the same source. So when people leave over children, the parents have to be — like we say, "Honor the father that is within you" — then the children will already learn from you. And this is the lesson of this week.
Next week we'll continue our weekly program. Thank you.