Minhagei Melech - Simchas Torah - Rabbi Tuvia Zilberstrom shlita

00:02 Speaker 1 You’re listening to the Lema’an Yishme’u podcast from Machon Halacha Chabad.

00:09 Speaker 2 During the hakafos, it was of course a majestic sight to see the Rebbe dancing with the Rashag. But it wasn’t just about seeing the Rebbe dance. It was the encounter, the eye contact between the Rebbe and the chassidim. The Rebbe danced several rounds. Usually, how long it went on depended more or less on how long the Rashag was able to dance. Except for one time, in 5738, when they asked the Rashag to say he didn’t have the strength, so that the Rebbe would stop doing the hakafos. Even then, the Rebbe went beyond all limits. But in any case, the Rebbe was dancing down on the floor of the shul, with the crowd standing around him on the pyramids. That contact, the Rebbe’s eye-to-eye gaze with each chossid—it’s impossible to describe. You can only be moved by it. The Rebbe’s unspoken communication with a chossid at that moment lifted the chossid to heights of joy, because on Simchas Torah, each person comes with his own state of mind. The Rebbe’s gaze passed over every one of the thousands—every bochur, every man, each and every person. It was a meeting of the eyes for a second, but an eternal second. At a farbrengen, of course, everyone waited with his little cup, looking toward the Rebbe, hoping to meet his gaze and say l’chaim. But a farbrengen lasted hours upon hours, and each person had his moment. On Simchas Torah, too, there was the Rebbe in a spirited dance that soared to the heavens, and at the same time his gaze passed over each and every person. These are things you can only be moved by, long for, and connect with today in whatever way we can. But there was such a deep connection of the soul, at the level of yechidah, formed out of joy during the hakafos. One might mention a letter of the Rebbe’s, if I’m not mistaken, from Nissan 5728, in which the Rebbe demands things beyond nature. In the letter he writes about a relative, about bringing him close. The Rebbe demands this of everyone. He gives an example there—but who can do that? And the Rebbe

02:42 Speaker 2 says, well, it is the month of Nissan. We have the Tzemach Tzedek on 13 Nissan and the Rebbe Rashab on 2 Nissan, and the Rebbe brings a story about the Tzemach Tzedek. Toward the end of the letter, the Rebbe says: Fine, those are the great sages of Israel, our Rebbeim. But how can this be demanded of everyone? After all, the Rebbe begins the letter by addressing the chassidim and all the men and women of Israel. How can it be demanded of everyone? So the Rebbe writes two things in the letter: If a person takes a glass of water and holds it up to the sun, what will he have in the glass? He’ll have the entire sun. That great sun is there in your glass of water. But the Rebbe writes that this requires two conditions. First, the water must be clear. Second, you have to hold it up to the sun. If either of those two things is missing, we won’t have the sun in the water. Those moments of raising a cup to say l’chaim to the Rebbe at a farbrengen, or a moment facing the Rebbe during the hakafos, meant looking straight into the Rebbe’s eyes. But you should also know that this happened, of course, at every Minchah. In fact, when the Rebbe entered the small zal for Minchah, it was more noticeable. The Rebbe would look over everyone. There’s no shame in saying it: there was a language of the eyes with the Rebbe. People spoke to the Rebbe, and the Rebbe answered with his gaze—so many things—at Minchah, at farbrengens, and at the hakafos. When the Rebbe came in for the hakafos on Simchas Torah, there were more or less set niggunim for the seven hakafos, apart from niggunim the Rebbe sometimes asked them to sing—if they were connected with Eretz Yisroel, for instance, or when the Rebbe once delivered a sicha about Chevron. The Rebbe spoke about particular events. I was there in 5731, when the Rebbe spoke about Eretz Yisroel, about all

04:54 Speaker 2 the seventy nations, and the Rebbe convened a Sanhedrin there. When I was there, the Rebbe spoke about Chevron and about the army, about the army going in, and so on. Then there were other niggunim, but otherwise the niggunim were fairly set. Let’s talk about the Rebbe. Two special things stood out about the Rebbe on Simchas Torah. We’ve already said that Tishrei is Tishrei: to our eyes, the Rebbe in Tishrei was more elevated, more exalted than during the rest of the year, and he lifted the entire crowd up with him in the most remarkable way. So on Simchas Torah, when the Rebbe came down, there were two things. First, for the first and seventh hakafos, the Rebbe would come down from his place, leave his platform, go into the center of the shul, and dance with his brother-in-law, the Rashag, in those years. Later, he danced alone. There was one special year when he also danced with the children. Let’s talk about the halachic aspect discussed by the poskim. Whenever the Rebbe led the davening as chazzan on a Torah-reading day, the person who opened the Aron Kodesh would hand the Rebbe the Sefer Torah. During the week, the person who opened it was usually Dr. Zeligson or someone else; on Shabbos, it was the Rashag. They were the regular people who opened the Aron Kodesh. The Rebbe would receive the Sefer Torah. I always noticed how particular he was about this, but on Simchas Torah it stood out even more. What stood out? How do we hold a Sefer Torah on the shoulder? We hold it on the right shoulder. The question is whether we hold it with the front of the Sefer Torah facing outward or inward. There’s a well-known expression among the poskim about how one holds a child: most Jewish mothers—and there are some like this even today, though for some, holding the child that way isn’t so important, and they might hold the child differently—a Jewish mother holds her child facing toward her.

07:20 Speaker 2 So we, too, hold our beloved Sefer Torah facing toward us. That is one view, and it appears among the poskim. Others, though, say that when we hold the Sefer Torah, it should actually face the congregation. That, too, has a basis in the poskim, because some people—even today, more commonly according to Sephardic custom—open the Sefer Torah and show the congregation where they are going to read. There was a time when people didn’t know the parsha or anything else, so they would open it to Parshas Bereishis. Then everyone would see that they were going to read Bereishis and would know where to open their Chumashim. So from the Aron Kodesh to the bimah, they would walk with the Sefer Torah open. Although we don’t follow that practice today—there are still others who do—the same reasoning applies even when it’s closed and still has its mantle and gartel, its belt, on it: it should be held facing the congregation. That is based, in fact, on the way the Sefer Torah used to be carried. The Rebbe was always particular that the front of the Sefer Torah face the congregation, but this was especially noticeable on Simchas Torah. Why? Because they would give the Rebbe the Sefer Torah to hold. Even as he received it, he would always make sure that it faced the congregation. It was still more noticeable because the Rebbe came down with the Sefer Torah to make the hakafah and went around the bimah while they said, “Please, Hashem, grant us salvation; please, Hashem, grant us success.” Then, as he prepared to dance with the flag, he would transfer the Sefer Torah from his right hand to his left,

09:30 Speaker 2 because he would put his right hand on the shoulder, or sometimes on the flag, and in any case he would hold the flag in his hand or on his shoulder, or sometimes here, and dance with it. So he would transfer the Sefer Torah to his left hand. I saw several times that when he transferred it, he would always look again to make sure that, in his left hand too, it was facing outward. So that is a halachic hiddur. Both views appear in the poskim, but this is how most of the Jewish people practice, and certainly the chassidim. Another special thing about Simchas Torah that stood out from a halachic perspective was the Rebbe’s aliyah to the Torah. Whenever the Rebbe had an aliyah on Monday, Thursday, or Shabbos, we did not call the Rebbe by name, for halachic reasons. The call to the Torah was, “Let our master, teacher, and Rebbe, son of Rabbi Levi Yitzchak, rise.” That was how it was on Monday and Thursday, and on Shabbos. And the baal korei who called the Rebbe always did so with the proper preparation. During the week it was generally Rabbi Dovid Druskin[?], and when he wasn’t there, there were Temimim who had the established role of calling him, with fear and trembling, with special awe. The same was true every Shabbos. But on Simchas Torah it was an especially awe-inspiring moment, one that sent shivers through you, because this was the one time the Rebbe was called in two ways. First, the Rebbe was called by name, preceded by “our master, teacher, and Rebbe.” And also, in accordance with the Rebbe’s instruction, as had been done with our Rebbeim, the Rebbe was called together with the Frierdiker Rebbe. We couldn’t see anything, but that was the Rebbe’s instruction: when the Rebbe went up for Chassan Bereishis, he was called by name. Besides the shiver that ran through the entire crowd, you could also look at the baal korei, Rabbi Mottel Schusterman. For long minutes he covered his face and turned red.

12:14 Speaker 2 He was completely in tears before he called the Rebbe by name. That is the part we could hear and see. But in terms of halachah, we saw differences. It was very hard to get close, because iron tables surrounded the area to... But I was a mischievous little boy. Rabbi Chodakov received the third aliyah, and the Rebbe received Chassan Bereishis. Rabbi Chodakov was slight and thin; he needed someone to protect him so he would not be squeezed and pushed among everyone. I offered my services—actually, I did not offer; I stood guard. That put me close to the Sefer Torah. I took advantage of the fact that... The Rebbe always received maftir, except twice a year: on Simchas Torah, because he received Chassan Bereishis, and on Yom Kippur. Why not on Yom Kippur? On Yom Kippur, the Rebbe received maftir at Minchah. The Rebbe writes somewhere that some people did not receive two aliyos on the same day, and some did not receive two maftirs on the same day. As for aliyos, the Rebbe did receive one at Shacharis and one at Minchah—not always, but when the Sefer Torah of Moshiach was used at Minchah, the Rebbe also received an aliyah then. So there was Shacharis and Minchah. But maftir—when would there be two? On Tisha B’Av, the Rebbe received maftir in the morning, and at Minchah, for “Dirshu.” But on Yom Kippur, the Rebbe received maftir for Yonah, so he did not receive maftir in the morning. Someone else received it. When I was there, Rabbi Kazanovsky[?] received maftir on Simchas Torah. It was the same thing: the Rebbe received Chassan Bereishis, so he did not receive maftir. But when the Rebbe received Chassan Bereishis, they called him up together with the Frierdiker Rebbe, so there was a difference in custom and halachah. When the Frierdiker Rebbe went up to the Torah, as recorded in the customs, he would not hold the Torah rollers. You may not hold the parchment in your hand; you must hold it only through a tallis, by the rollers. There is a precise distinction

14:58 Speaker 2 here. The Frierdiker Rebbe would touch the rollers only through a tallis. The chossid Reb Baruch Chen, when he performed hagbah, even in front of the Rebbe, would always lift the Torah holding the rollers with a tallis. On weekdays, when the Rebbe went up to the Torah—until 5728, he would come only for the Torah reading—he certainly did not have a tallis. He would come in for the Torah reading before davening, so of course he held the rollers. But on Shabbos, when he went up wearing a tallis, he did not hold the rollers with the tallis. Sometimes he held a roller with his right hand, while his left hand was always covered with the tallis. The Rebbe held everything holy with both hands; you can see it in photographs of the Torah reading too. So the Rebbe held it with his right hand, but his left hand was always there as well. He held the right-hand roller and brought his other hand to it too. During the dollar distributions, when someone handed the Rebbe something, the Rebbe would accept it with his right hand. When it was something more sacred—people brought objects belonging to great figures of earlier generations; once someone brought something belonging to the Ruzhiner—the Rebbe immediately extended his other hand too. You could plainly see that the Rebbe acknowledged it as something with a holy source. In any case, witnessing this aspect was awe-inspiring too. I stood beside the Rebbe when he went up to the Torah on Simchas Torah. He held the rollers as the Rebbe was supposed to hold them—only with the tallis. He did not touch the rollers except through the tallis. Here we saw something beyond what we ordinarily saw when the Rebbe went up to the Torah. On Simchas

16:54 Speaker 2 Torah, the Rebbe—during hakafos, which Sefer Torah did he use? We called it the Rebbe’s Sefer Torah. It was also the one the Rebbe used for his aliyos on Mondays and Thursdays. This was the Sefer Torah written by the brothers of Slavuta. At first it came to the Rebbe without its rollers. It had been acquired by Rabbi Moshe Ashkenazi, the grandfather of today’s rabbi of Kfar Chabad—Rabbi Meir, son of Rabbi Moshe, son of Rabbi Meir Ashkenazi. He acquired the Sefer Torah [unclear] in the early years, and afterward they received its original rollers as well. This was the Torah the Rebbe used for his aliyos on Mondays and Thursdays, and the one he danced with on Simchas Torah. To this day, they take it out on Simchas Torah. After the Rebbe finished hakafos with this Sefer Torah, as I mentioned, I was a mischievous boy, and I made sure to take it and put it in the safe. At the time, the safe was—today it is twenty centimeters lower—in the library room. They called it Rabbi Shmuel’s room. I made sure to bring it there, but not before we had done hakafos with the Rebbe’s Sefer Torah around the table in the library. Then we put it in the safe until the next day. Here is an interesting piece of chassidic history concerning the Rebbe’s chapter of Tehillim: every year on 11 Nissan, we have a niggun. Today a committee sits and chooses a niggun from all the... How did it begin? In 5727, in 5731, the Rebbe spoke a great deal about Eretz Yisroel after the Six-Day War. At the end of chapter 69 are the two verses, “For G-d will save Tziyon and build the cities of Yehudah; they will dwell there and inherit it. The descendants of His servants will possess it, and those who love His name will dwell in it.” At the time, the Rebbe

19:15 Speaker 2 spoke a great deal about Eretz Yisroel, about its holiness, and about how not even an inch of it may be returned. They set those words to the familiar tune of “For G-d will save Tziyon,” what they called the Dayenu tune. That was the song, and it was the Rebbe’s chapter. Then, as soon as the year ended—11 Nissan 5731; it was 5731—that chapter gave way to chapter 70, and the tune stopped too. That was it. There was no longer a niggun being learned for the Rebbe’s chapter. There was a mashpia in Jerusalem, Rabbi Yehoshua Lipkin. He has sons who are shluchim and chassidim, and grandchildren. There is a book about him, Hamashpia. In his shul in Jerusalem, out of a chossid’s warmth, heartfelt feeling, and hiskashrus, without giving it much thought, he came to shul—I remember—and sang a niggun for chapter 70 that fit the Rebbe’s chapter: “Let all who seek You rejoice and be glad in You... But I am poor and needy.” It is a tune everyone knows today; they sing it every day. He sang it to the words of the Rebbe’s chapter. Where did he sing it? In Meah Shearim, at the shul in the Meah Shearim market, on Baal HaTanya Street. That year my father, a"h, traveled to the Rebbe for the first time since seeing the Rebbe in France in 5707, when the Rebbe came to visit his mother. That was when my father got to know the Rebbe and asked him questions. These things are written in the book... At the place where my father was staying, he said, “Why don’t they sing a song for the Rebbe here too? Why isn’t there such a thing?” He did his best to teach the tune with those words to his host. It was difficult, but boruch Hashem... Now, when he had yechidus with the Rebbe, I think during the Ten Days of Teshuvah, the Rebbe said to him, “You know French, after all.” How did the Rebbe know? In France, my father had already been running a school, and the Rebbe had come to visit it.

21:50 Speaker 2 Rabbi Holtzman, a"h, was one of the pupils at the school. My father prepared a question with him for him to ask the Rebbe, and the Rebbe answered it. The Rebbe came to visit the school and went from classroom to classroom. The Rebbe spoke in Yiddish, and my father translated into French, until my father asked the Rebbe—the Rebbe spoke French just as well—whether he could speak to the children in French. So the Rebbe said, “I say it as I heard the rabbi say it, and he translates.” When my father went into yechidus, the Rebbe told him... The Rebbe had also urged him in France: “You still need to translate Chassidus into French.” So when my father came to the Rebbe for the first time after many years—the Rebbe had held him back because of his work in education—the Rebbe said that since the first group had arrived from France with the shliach Rabbi Moshe Azimov, he should hold a farbrengen with the boys and a separate farbrengen with the girls. Completely separately; and if that did not work, they could be in the same hall, but with a mechitzah in the middle. When my father passed by for kos shel brachah, the Rebbe asked whether he had held the farbrengen. My father was methodical, so he told the Rebbe, “I won’t take up the Rebbe’s time now. I’ll write about it. But there was a farbrengen, and I’ll write.” That was their brief exchange. As soon as he came away from kos shel brachah, his host caught him and led him to Reb Moshe Teleshevsky, who used to start the niggunim at kos shel brachah, and told him, “He has a niggun for the Rebbe’s chapter.” Reb Moshe, the chazzan, immediately picked up the notes and began to sing, and the Rebbe encouraged it. A murmur went through the crowd that the Rebbe had told him to go there—that was how it looked at the time. In any case, that was how the connection was made, and they sang that niggun to those words throughout the winter. Then, when the next chapter came

24:07 Speaker 2 Yeah [?], that was already in the seventies. By then they had composed four melodies, like “Ipcha Mistabra” and “Bechol Hashem Chasisi” [unclear], and in fact that was how the songs were put together, right up to this day.