Conclusion of the Shiva for Rabbi Yosef Yitzchok Reitchik

00:05 Speaker 1 To Rabbi Malki[?] and Abba Barel[?], who know him here from Kfar Chabad, to all who knew Yossi in the material and spiritual sense, and may his family be distinguished for long, good lives. When our Sages say, “A place finds favor in the eyes of its inhabitants,” that was true wherever Yossi went in the village—in the shul and at farbrengens. We always saw him with that special charm, with that special joy on his face here in Kfar Chabad. One thing people knew about Reb Yossi, and I heard this from many people, was that the subject of his conversations with them was always faith in Moshiach. When will we finally merit to see the Geulah? This Shabbos, Motche Ben-Shishi[?] told me that he had sat with him after davening and they had studied the Rebbe’s sicha about the vision: we don’t see what this ... is, and the answers the Rebbe gives there. So he said, “That’s all well and good, but we don’t see. The soul sees in every respect, but we don’t see.” That was always Reb Yossi’s great longing. [unclear] I cannot—I am unable to say this [unclear].

02:29 Speaker 2 Alive and enduring. [unclear] to the cemetery. And I told myself that we would stand here in the shul and join [unclear] Yossi. Every [unclear] ... I remained standing by the door. Every [unclear] who came in here made me think Yossi was coming in. And indeed, he really is here with us. My connection with Yossi went back many, many years—decades. He was still a young boy when I met him in Cincinnati, [unclear]. I knew his father, Dudi, very, very well. He was a special person, a man of [unclear]. He studied a great deal. He was very close to my grandfather, z"l. So when we came to Cincinnati, [unclear]. And when I met him once in Cincinnati with Yossi, we connected from the first moment. He was like one of his own. His father came—his father spoke with him in Tel Aviv, I think. His father officiated at a wedding there, and his father poured him a drink. He was very proud of him. He came to his home and told me that he had to officiate at a wedding. He asked me—I think he had heard that I had wine of my own. He did not drink that wine, those wines. He asked whether I could give him some wine, my own wine. [unclear] Before he left, he thanked me for the wine. He said to me, “I ask you to stay in touch with Yossi. Yossi is [unclear]; stay in touch with him.” That meant a great deal to him, because I myself had become attached to Yossi. Our Sages say, “What a loss are those who are gone and cannot be found.” “Cannot be found” has two meanings: it can mean they cannot be forgotten, and it can also come from the Aramaic word ashkach, meaning “found.” So there are

05:57 Speaker 2 two meanings to “What a loss are those who are gone and cannot be found”: there are people who cannot be forgotten, and there are people whose like cannot be found. Both can be said of Yossi. He touched people’s hearts so deeply that he cannot be forgotten. How could anyone forget him? His charm, his smile, his Ahavas Yisroel, the truth that was in him. He was a Jew of utter sincerity—no politics and no [unclear]. Whatever he believed in, he always stood by. Many times I had various disagreements with him; we did not always see eye to eye. But he said everything with sincerity and friendship. When words come from sincerity and friendship, even if someone thinks the opposite of what you think, you [unclear] him less, because you feel that a genuine Jew is standing before you. He has no political agenda, no hidden intentions or anything of the sort. He tells you the truth. He says, “In my opinion, this is how it should be. This is the way of modesty. This is what the Rebbe wants. This is the Rebbe’s path and outlook”—even if it goes against your own understanding. But you felt that he spoke the truth. There was a voice of truth. He was a gem of truth. I knew his father a little. [unclear] But not only that. [unclear] It is very, very hard to find someone with such kindness, such generosity and such sensitivity to another person’s distress, with a desire to help even when [unclear]. He wanted everyone to be well. His joy in that was infectious. And it was no wonder he found favor in the eyes of

08:45 Speaker 2 very, very many people, as well as the Creator, Who gave him success beyond [unclear]. That itself is also a painful blow. But as for us now, we are in utter darkness as a group. What do we see? [unclear] And another such powerful blow has been added. The pain is felt by the whole family, the community, and all of us. The Gemara says in Tractate Shabbos that when one member of a group dies, the whole group should be concerned. He was one of us, one of the group. But it is not only [unclear]. There is an absence; you feel something missing in the air, in the atmosphere of Chabad, in Chabad generally and in your own private life. A person like that is missing. Some people are loved and valued when they are present, and [unclear] when they are not. But with him, you feel a void. I entered the shul today. I am used to [unclear] the farbrengen with [unclear]. I felt an emptiness; I felt something missing. Something is missing here. It is not just as though something is missing—the Chassidic atmosphere is missing, his [unclear] is missing in so many personal moments. That is why [unclear]. I was abroad for a few days over the weekend, and even while [unclear], the moment I remembered, I thought I would burst. No, no, this is [unclear]. After all the explanations people give and all that can be said, we can only put it simply: we see that “Your judgments are a great deep.” [unclear], but “Your judgments are a great deep.” Why? Why is it this way? Of Nadav and Avihu it says, “They offered a strange fire before Hashem ... and they died.” The holy Or Hachayim says that “they offered a strange fire before Hashem” means they were, in a sense, an offering. They were offerings, just as there were communal offerings at the Mishkan, and offerings for its inauguration, and offerings all the time. There were also offerings [unclear]. [unclear] That is one of Your judgments. “Your judgments are a great deep.” But for us, in our situation... Well, let us finish the subject of shiluach haken.

12:08 Speaker 2 Your darkness, doubled and redoubled, is within [unclear]. What purpose does it serve? It says in the holy Zohar—Rabbi Yochai brought this—that there is the matter of shiluach haken, sending away the mother bird. The mother is resting on her young or on the eggs; you take the mother, separate her from the chicks, and send her away, and ... “the young you may take for yourself.” In fact, elsewhere the Torah says, “If you see the donkey of someone you hate lying under its load, would you refrain from helping him? You must surely help him.” When a donkey falls under its load, you have to help it up—not only because its owner might lose his property, but also because of the donkey itself, because of the prohibition against causing suffering to living creatures. And here we see a mitzvah that seems to be exactly the opposite. There are opinions among our rabbis that say, “If you happen upon a bird’s nest”—it is not [unclear]: if you want to take the eggs or the chicks, then send away the mother. But there is a mitzvah even if you do not want to take the chicks: “If you happen upon a bird’s nest on the road,” and you see a nest with chicks, you take the mother and send her away, “and the young you may take for yourself.” This is our Torah. This is our concern. This is the Torah’s way. But it says in the holy Zohar—Rabbi [unclear] cites it—that this is an act of cruelty, an act that is the opposite of [unclear]. When they take the mother, the dove flies off, crying out, “Where are my children? I want to go back—I want to go back to my children.” She rolls in the dust and cries out.

15:06 Speaker 2 Oy vey, I want to reach my children. The verse says of this that the Jewish people are compared to a dove, and when the dove cries, it arouses compassion from the Master of the Universe. The great compassion that the dove arouses is not only for her chicks; it arouses compassion for all of Israel. That is the point. Just as on Yom Kippur we seek to arouse compassion, so too the Torah’s mitzvah, “You shall surely send away the mother, and take the young for yourself,” arouses compassion for all of Israel. But even this was not [unclear]; in his family, he did not even merit to bring a child into a Torah classroom. Gentlemen, gentlemen, the Rebbe once said—and spoke several times about the Holocaust—[unclear]. To offer comfort. You see, consolation does not mean there is no heartbreak. The heartbreak remains. But consolation is our desire to emerge from the pain. That is what consolation means. When you come to comfort someone, you cannot tell him otherwise. That would be a lie. The heartbreak is heartbreak: for the family, for the children, for each and every one of us. But consolation means helping a person feel, somehow, that there is something to draw comfort from. So what is the point of coming to comfort him, when we can see that the heartbreak is real? One meaning of consolation is this: when someone is in pain, broken and crushed, he cannot see a way forward. The heartbreak is real. Friends come to comfort him and give him the feeling: “You are not alone. You are not alone.” It helps a little, a little. Because when you are in trouble, it can suddenly feel as though you are on a ship in the middle of the sea, and no one is thinking of you or ever will.

18:08 Speaker 2 Look at Yair Nachshon[?] and Yossi. They had many friends, but after Yossi... the family’s son, and [unclear]. There are friends. Yossi’s friends remained friends. Yossi’s friends remained friends of the family and the children after their friend’s passing. First of all, [unclear]. He is the kind of person it is hard—hard—to part from. It is hard. Terribly hard, dreadful. But “He decrees and He sustains,” the Tzemach Tzedek said. I have heard this explanation attributed to the Tzemach Tzedek: Hakadosh Boruch Hu decrees a decree, and sustains—He provides the strength to bear it. How do we get through this? I cannot see an end to it; I do not know. It is very, very hard to get through. But through finding strength [unclear]. Each and every one of us sees this... thinks about it. I know I am describing things, but in cases like these, I am speaking only about what happens afterward. What does it mean? This is a true Jew: to feel that we are all family, one family. Usually, this brings a family together. Exactly—in most cases, it brings together relatives who were not so close before. But when there is heartbreak and trouble, they need one another. It makes them see how much more unity matters. They come to see that there are things more important than all the pain in the world. That is why this matter touches my heart. I think I would like to make a proposal to [unclear]. Our Sages

21:53 Speaker 2 say that a tzaddik’s deeds are his remembrance. [Unclear]—a tzaddik’s deeds are his remembrance, a way to remember a person. I would like to propose something. You see, one of our problems—one of the great problems among us today—is that families are falling apart. One issue concerns young people, not all of whom fit into the framework of a yeshiva or a community. Many children leave the yeshivos. We do have the rosh yeshiva; you have—

22:49 Speaker 3 [Unclear]. We have Dedi Cohen[?]. We have arrangements for them there, even eight hours—

22:54 Speaker 2 in yeshiva, learning. But for other reasons, he stayed away. This is within our power. I believe we should establish a framework for students—for our young people who cannot learn in yeshiva—a course of study suited to them. It should also include things that interest them. These are children with talents in other areas too, but it should be an orderly program with supervision. After all, you established the vocational school. Its purpose was that you—

23:36 Speaker 3 [Unclear].

23:40 Speaker 2 And that is how the vocational school was founded, with real students, truly real students. We should establish some kind of framework for them, even a simple one. In my opinion, it would save many, many young people and many families. I know some of them well. There are many friends around the world, and I think those who can should take this upon themselves so that we can make it happen—in the merit of [unclear]. He would certainly want it. We spoke with them and know how much [unclear]. Someone asked the Rabbi to look into the funding. [Unclear]. I am not talking about a place where Torah was taught, but a place where a young person learns Torah. He lived in a place where Torah was taught and where he also had friends. So perhaps this is the one thing, seemingly, that can be done. Oy, gentlemen. It is hard to get through these difficulties—but together. The Gemara says [unclear]. We need to gather and think about what is best for the family, and what is best for Yossi. We hope Hashem will help, and that after all of this we will merit to see Yossi here with us, in complete health. [Unclear] to free him and make him happy.

26:16 Speaker 2 May the family and the children have much joy, and may he continue [unclear] with the children. May Hashem bring joy to all the families throughout the world. [Unclear]—pain and heartbreak for the whole family. And also, in times of celebration—our celebrations—we have much joy, the joy of every Jewish home. Yet to come to such heartbreak, to such [unclear]... What can one do? One cannot rejoice. [Unclear], but what remains is alive and enduring.