Why I Go to Uman for Rosh HaShanah

Why do I go to Uman for Rosh HaShanah? Let me count the whys.

First of all, I go because the Rebbe said to come to him for Rosh HaShanah. This alone is sufficient reason to go. I need no other. If you have any inkling of the chassidic mind, you understand that if “the Rebbe” says to do something, the chassid does it. This is what it means to be a chassid. The Rebbe is the spiritual master and guide, and I, the chassid, am the perpetual novice.

I go for a number of personal reasons as well. Even though I live in Yerushalayim/Jerusalem, the Holy City, and regularly attend some of the local Breslov shtibels, I feel more strongly attached to Breslov as a chassidut when in Uman for Rosh HaShanah. (Thank God, I always feel connected to the Rebbe z”l, but to the chassidut most strongly when in Uman for the pilgrimage.)

I go to see my brother, who lives in New York, and my nephews and their children who also live Stateside. I go to see friends who live in California, Massachusetts, Michigan and elsewhere—including here, in Israel, whom I don’t see all year long. Catching up on each other’s lives, sharing Torah insights and struggles, offering help to newcomers and old-timers, and receiving from them as well. This, too, increases my feelings for and connection to Rebbe Nachman and Breslov chassidut.

I go to daven/pray with a minyan of 3,000-plus people, people who take their time to invest themselves in every word of prayer, screaming, shouting, swaying and singing. The nigunim/melodies alone are worth the trek. Not every prayer can be put into words. Some must be put into (or to) music.

I come to marvel at the diversity of Jews and Jewish “types” that come to Uman. I come to marvel at their self-sacrifice in making the hajj. I come to marvel at those who prepare tons of food—meals, snacks, drinks—for others, with no thought or interest in getting paid for it. I am humbled by all the volunteerism I see there.

I go to do hitbodedut in the Sofievka, an amazingly beautiful park.

I go to say the Tikkun HaKlali at the Rebbe’s grave site.

I go to speak to Rebbe Nachman z”l. Notice I write “speak,” not “pray.” We Jews pray to God and only to God. We Jews do not pray to any person, being or object whether animate, inanimate, tangible or intangible, but only to the One and Only Creator. How do I speak to a dead man? Before he passed away, Rebbe Nachman pointed out that for tzaddikim, dying is merely going from one room to another. Even though we are speaking to him from the other side of the door, he hears what we say. (In fact, he said all dead people hear what is said to them, but that not all of them are at their graves. But tzaddikim are always at theirs.) (How I hear his responses we will leave for another day.)

Returning (somewhat) to the first reason, I go because I “understand” (using the word loosely) that since Rebbe Nachman z”l uses Rosh HaShanah for tikkun haolam, my being present is a kindness for you and every member of humankind, past, present and future.

I don’t know if I recorded all the reasons I go, but these are some of them.

for Rosh Hashanah 5774

Some words as we get closer to the sunset of 5773, and the opening of 5774.

Once, at the beginning of the year, Rebbe Yochanan ben Zakkai (a Mishnaic sage who was a teacher of one of Rebbe Akiva’s teachers) had a dream. He saw that that year, his nephews were to lose 700 dinarim. (How much is that? Enough to buy more oxen and camels than you’ve ever dreamed of owning.) What did Rebbe Yochanan do? Throughout the year, he went to them more often than usual, asking them to contribute to various charities. They gave and they gave.

Near the end of the year, his nephews were hit with an unexpected tax bill. They came to Rebbe Yochanan for advice. “Don’t worry,” he said. “They won’t take more than 17 dinar.” They asked him how he was so certain. He told him about his dream. “Since you’ve given me 683 dinar, you won’t lose more than 17.”

“Why didn’t you tell us about the dream? We would have given you the whole thing!”

“No,” Rebbe Yochanan said. “It’s better that you give the charity for the sake of the mitzvah.”

I bless you with a prayer I say for myself. If, God forbid, you have to lose any money this year, may it be to worthy charities, and not to doctors/(self-)medications, lawsuits, traffic fines, late fees, penalties. May you give to the needy, not to the greedy—and for the right reasons.

I’m not big on predictions, astrological or otherwise. But I’ll go out on a limb here. Ready? Every reader of this blog will have his/her Jewishness tested this year! Hard to fathom, I know, but I guarantee it. Not to worry, though. I offer you a piece of ancient Jewish wisdom that is tried and true. If you follow it simply and straightforwardly, you’ll make it through the storm.

Don’t surrender! Maintain whatever practices and devotions (aka Torah study/mitzvah observance and prayer) that you have undertaken. Even if it looks as if they are not helping your Jewish progress; even if it seems that they are hindering it, ask yourself (in a Talmudic sing-song, if possible): “If I pray regularly and am going backwards, how likely is it that not-praying will help me go forward?”

The difference between tzaddikim and people like us? They don’t give up. Adjust, exhale, regroup and re-plan, but never, ever throw in the towel.

And what should we pray for? This is a “been asked almost forever” question. A Roshh Hashanah piyut (supplemental poem-prayer) answers in two short sentences:

Give me to understand what I should ask for /
Make me aware what I should request

If you make it to Uman, please look me up. I’m staying at the Ritz.

May you and yours be immediately written and sealed for good life and shalom. Amen.

Worth the Trade

“I threw it all away.” Ruth of Moab

Now, she didn’t really say that, but she could’ve. She was a princess, beautiful and wealthy. She could have had pleasure and power had she stayed in her native land, instead of migrating to the Land of Israel. But she saw something in her late Jewish husband, or in her mother-in-law, Naomi, or in both. When Naomi set out to return home to the Land of Israel and tried hard to dissuade Ruth from joining her, Ruth refused. “Wherever you go, I will go.” Even to poverty, even to risk my life because I don’t yet know everything about being Jewish and may commit a sin. It’s worth all that—and more—to be Jewish.

Ruth never regretted her choice and was never bitter about it. She was such a kind and loving person that anything she looked at became blessed.

So what happened because this woman threw it all away and became Jewish? We ended up with King David and his Tehillim (Psalms). And we will end with tikkun haolam when Mashiach comes, swiftly and soon, in our lifetime. Amen.

Appetizer

Here’s a simple practice, that should be relatively easy to do. But as with anything worthwhile, it takes time time to establish its place in your life. So you have to take the time to do it, give it time to develop and not give up when you forget to do it. Just cone back to it and start it again.

Rebbe Nachman teaches that before you eat, put something into the pushka. Puskha is Yiddish for box, and colloquially it means specifically the charity box. The amount is not important; the giving is. My suggestion, because maybe you don’t have a pushka, is to make one. I mean, what could be a better recycling project than that? Maybe even make two or three pushkas, because maybe you want to spread the wealth.

And yes, you can do this practice by donating to a charity via Paypal or with a credit card, but there’s also an important element gained by putting physical coins and dollar bills into a pushka. The jingle-jangle of charity coins is a sacred sound (Likutey Moharan I, Lesson #22:5).

Which charity? That’s a tough call. You have to pray hard to be worthy to give to a worthy Jewish cause. In many ways, it’s a personal call. As a Breslover, I incline to Breslov-related charities/causes/institutions. I’m partial to orphans and widows, with the ordinary poor being next. As you pray, you have to search your heart and mind to get the solution.

And when the money adds up, which it will do after a while, remember to give it to whom you’ve been collecting for!

Behar-Bechukotai

Dvar Torah for Parshat Behar-Bechukotai 5773

All Beginnings Are Difficult

Well now. 148West’s maiden dvar Torah. Very exciting, for me at least. After writing “a weekly column” for someone else, I’m doing it for someone else—me. The exciting part is, that no longer working as “an official spokesman” for Breslov Research Institute (blessed be its name) and, by extension, Breslov, I can write about topics that an organization wouldn’t. To have that freedom is exciting.

It’s also a big responsibility. Those who know me, or of me, expect that what I say is Breslov, or defines Breslov, or is the consensus of Breslover chassidim. That’s a definite maybe. I try, in my personal life, to behave (and speak, and think) in accord with what I learn in Rebbe Nachman’s works. (When I say “Rebbe Nachman’s works” I mean also those of Reb Noson, in particular Likutey Halakhot.) Of course, no two Breslovers understand the Rebbe’s teachings in the same way—which is exactly how he intended it, and exactly the way it oughta be.

As I wrote there, on 148West’s home page, I’m not here to preach. I’m here to teach, to share, to probe, maybe even to provide answers. The point is—and I firmly believe it’s the baseline of Rebbe Nachman’s mission—to help anyone and everyone Be. More. Jewish.

Which leads us in to our dvar Torah. Actualizing potential is the major theme of Likutey Moharan Lesson #66. Let’s take a look at a small section of the lesson (the start of §2):

The final outcome starts in thought. For example, when a person wants to do something, to build a bayit (house, home), let’s say, he must first think and consider what his bayit will look like. When he has a clear picture of what his bayit will look like, he can begin to build it. In this way, the ultimate product starts in the mind. And until the potential is actualized, the potential [bayit] is bound to the germ of the idea.

Part of what makes Likutey Moharan so powerful is the perspective it gives us for viewing life, on a grand, sweeping historical scale, on a personal, microscopic scale, and everything in between. For example, the bayit the Rebbe refers to is not just a physical structure, a yurt or an igloo. He means your ultimate bayit, the place you will reside for eternity.

Before we go on, let’s think about this vague word, “eternity.” The Steipler Rov, Reb Yaakov Yisrael Kanievesky obm (1899–1985), gave the following analogy to give us an idea of “how long is eternity.” Imagine, Planet Earth covered around and around by a pile of sand 10 miles high. Now, once every 10,000 years a bird flies in and takes away a grain of sand. How long will it take for the bird to remove all the sand? Eternity is longer than that. Back to our topic.

Did you ever think what your bayit will look like? One room for emunah (faith), one for tefilah (prayer), another for your kindness to orphans and one for your kindness to widows, to the poor. Rooms for the various areas of Torah you studied and others for Torah that you taught. And how well-lit will your bayit be? There’s an old Yiddish expression applied to a person who has passed on: May he have a lichtege Gan Eden, a bright Garden of Eden. You don’t want a small light bulb, do you?

So we need to spend time thinking about our future bayit. We’ve got to think about how we’re going to build it, and get started.

There’s another bayit that needs to be built. Although it doesn’t make sense to talk of God “actualizing His potential,” the world He created needs to actualize its potential. God created the world in order to “dwell” in it, which is one of the reasons we were commanded to make a Mishkan (Tabernacle) in the desert and build the Beit HaMikdash (Holy Temple) in Jerusalem. As we consider building our individual bayit, actualizing our personal potential, we should try our best to see how that fits with building God’s bayit, actualizing the potential of other people as well.

Because sometimes, I can develop and grow a good deal if I focus on myself. On the other hand, if I open myself to giving my time to others, I won’t get as far. but others will make progress that they couldn’t have without me. Some might make more progress than I ever could have made. And some may end up helping so many, many more people than I could ever have dreamed possible.

Thinking I’m making this up? Adam, the first human being, was to have lived for a thousand years. He didn’t keep them all for himself. He gave away 70 years of his life to King David, who was to have been stillborn. But by giving away his time—years, decades of his life!—Adam triggered a events that led to one person’s living a life in which he built the Kingdom of Israel, laid the foundation for the first Beit HaMikdash, wrote Tehillim (Psalms) and began the royal line that will lead to the Mashiach, may he come swiftly and soon, in our lifetime. Amen.

Based on Likutey Moharan I, Lesson #66

agutn Shabbos! Shabbat Shalom!

In God We Trust

Rebbe Nachman’s maternal great-grandfather, the holy Reb Yisrael Baal Shem Tov, had a profound trust in God. His trust was so great that he before going to sleep at night, he would make sure that he had given away all the cash in his house.

One night, he couldn’t fall asleep. He sensed that there was still some money in his possession even though he had distributed everything that had been on his table.

He mentioned this to his wife. She answered, “I put some away so that I could buy food in the morning at the market.” He told her that they had to immediately give the money to charity, and trust that God would take care of them the next day, just as He always had in the past.

Rebbe Nachman commented that yes, the Baal Shem Tov’s level of trust in God was extraordinary. “But my level of trust in God is even greater, so I am able to keep money in the house.” (See Chayei Moharan/Tzaddik #499.)

148 West

NEVER EVER DESPAIR!

Tag Archives: Kindness-Charity