Shlichus #53

Rabbi Lipszyc's Story of the Week #52.  Dedicated In memory of Aharon Tzvi ben Avigdor Although I used to enjoy driving, and did quite a lot in my time, my driving habits weren’t necessarily the best. Through the years, I got into numerous accidents and only because of G-d’s kindness, am I around to talk about it. The first accident was while I was a teenager and still a new driver. My brother Heshy would let me use his car from time to time. The evening before Yom Kippur he allowed me to use his car to run an errand. In the wee hours of the morning, around 3:00 or 4:00 a.m. on the day before Yom Kippur it is customary to “shlug kaporas,” the tradition is for a female to take a chicken and a male to take a rooster and say a prayer while encircling it around the head, (three sets of three circles around the head,) and then giving it to the shochet (kosher slaughterer) to ritually kill the chicken in the prescribed manner while looking on and thinking that “I deserve the death penalty for having rebelled against G-d during the past year.” The kosher chicken is then given to a poor person or to a charitable organization. In those years (it was in the late 1960’s) this custom would be carried out in one of the many kosher slaughter houses throughout the city. For the students of the yeshiva, buses would be arranged to take us to the slaughter house which was in a distant part of the city. Somehow, that morning, I and some of my fellow students managed to miss the bus. Still carrying the keys to my brother’s car in my pocket, and knowing that he needed the car by 6:00 a.m. to go to work, I figured he wouldn’t really mind if I took it for this purpose, as long as I had it back home by 6:00 a.m. [Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew it was wrong to do so without his express permission.] We all squeezed into the car and off we went to the slaughterhouse. Unfortunately, on the way back, while driving under an elevated train, I swerved and hit one of the large steel beams that held up the tracks. Since the streets were not well lit there, I couldn’t see any damage to the car and I drove back home and left the keys for my brother on the kitchen table without mentioning the accident. Later in the day my brother pointed out the dent in the car that was very clearly seen in broad daylight. But my older brother taught me several lessons that day. A) Without the slightest anger he pointed out that I wasn’t given permission to take the car that morning; B) he mentioned that a car can be replaced, but a person not, and he was thankful that at least I wasn’t hurt; and C) when I do something wrong, I need to own up to it. The second accident happened while I was in yeshiva in Montreal. There was a group of us going to the Rebbe for a farbrengen. I rented a car and six of us squeezed in for the trip. One of the passengers was Rabbi Volf Greenglass a”h, a kabbalist and Chassidic mentor of the yeshiva. We left very early in the morning, and I was travelling at quite a clip, around 85 – 90 miles an hour. Suddenly I had a front wheel blow… Read more

09:55

Bh everyone is ok

10:01

5/16/2018

Just wondering if the driver of the tractor trailer found out what happened

19:38

I don't think so

19:39

I see, could be from the size of that it's not something you feel or see.

19:41

FRIDAY

I am trying to compile all of the stories together, if someone whose been receiving the stories since before 12/29/2017 can please check, were any stories published between 12/30/17 and 1/30/17? If so please message me them.

15:29

Correction, 12/29/16-1/30/17

15:33

Thanks to this who replied, now how about from 4/27/17-5/28/17

15:44

Thanks, got them

16:11

Gotcha

16:26

I have most on a blog if that helps any

16:26

Rabbi Lipszyc's Story of the Week 53-55 Dedicated in Honor of Rina & SChneurs Wedding 53. I apologize again to my WhatsApp following, (I seem to be doing that a lot lately,) a) for missing the last couple of weeks; and b) for again posting stories out of chronological order, but my excuse for both is the same. Last night b”H we celebrated my son Schneur’s wedding to a beautiful girl (inside and out,) Gittel Reena. The Tshura (gift) that I gave out at the wedding was a booklet of some of our stories of shlichus in Florida, since Schneur was born in Florida. The stories of my earlier years in Florida, have already been posted so I won’t posting them again now. But I will now post the other stories, which should make up for the missed weeks. This is the cover page of the Tshurah: ב"ה תשורה In Honor of the Wedding of Schneur Zalman HaKohein & Gittel Reena Lipszyc May 31, 2018 – י"ז סיון תשע"ח B”H Schneur is our eleventh of 12 k”ah children, and was born in Florida. Although our older children were born in our previous places of shlichus, (Michigan and Alabama,) Schneur has the distinction of being born in a place that has a very special space in my heart, since that was the very first shlichus that I merited to go on, as a very young bochur in the summers of 1963 – תשכ"ג and 1964 – תשכ"ד. During the years of 1989 thru 1991, our shlichus took me back to Florida, during which time Schneur was born. So, although Schneur grew up in Crimea, where the Rebbe next sent us, the stories in this tshurah will be focused on Florida, Schneur’s birth place. However, I will share one irony connected with Schneur and Crimea. After Russia annexed Crimea in 2014, we were not able to get back there. Still, we had the responsibility to fulfill the mission that the Rebbe himself gave us in 1992. Thus, we kept up our activities there, albeit from a distance, and from time to time sent bochurim there to help run the programs. Our sons Dovid and Schneur had made aliyah, and thus had Israeli passports. This allowed them to travel to Crimea without visas. So until Dovid got married he was able to take our place in Crimea. When Dovid got married, last year, Schneur took his place there. However, after just a short time he was deported for “teaching religion.” Surely a distinction of pride for any Chabadnik. The irony was that when I saw the monogram drawn for Schneur and Reena’s wedding, with their Hebrew initials - שז לגר, I got an urge to see if there was a meaning to this word or words so I Google translated it. What came up was – “He was deported!” Obviously Schneur’s distinction is recognized by Google J. Before I write about our shlichus in Florida, I would like to make mention of what I consider an important “side” note. Although my wife and I just met Reena and her parents in regards to this shidduch, I really go back a long way with Reena’s family. I know both Harold and Mimi Furst and Hershel and Devorah Scheiner (both of her sets of grandparents, may they be well and have true Yiddishe nachas from all of their grandchildren) from way back. I had a very good relationship with the whole Blesofsky family (Mimi Furst’s parents and siblings.) But I want to make special mention of a great uncle of Reena’s, whom unfortunately she never met, for he passed away quite young. Reb Moshe Blesofsky a”h was my strongest contact with the Blesofsky family. We were classmates in the Lubavitcher Yeshiva and very close friends. I admired him for his tremendous temimus, and at quite a young age he was able to rattle off the whole Tehillim by heart. We were study partners and the very first volume of Talmud that I took to learn for Yud-Tes Kislev was at his request that we learn it together. In fact we did not get to even start it until three days before Yud-Tes Kislev, so we spent three entire nights learning it in order for us to finish it the night of Yud-Tes Kislev itself. I was married before Reb Moshe and we spent many nights at our apartment in Crown Heights with just the two of us farbrenging well into the night. But the most meaningful thing that we got from him was the wedding gift that he gave us. In those years, the Rebbe would use whatever Tehillim was laying on his shtender when he entered the shul. The day of my wedding, Moshe took a brand new Tehillim (that he had bought the day before) and placed it on the Rebbe’s shtender before the Rebbe came in for shacharis. He stayed and watched that no one else should replace it with their own, and as soon as the Rebbe left after shacharis, Moshe reclaimed that Tehillim that the Rebbe had used that morning. He gave that Tehillim to us as his wedding present. Over all the years we used it many times and my wife especially cherished it. Reena, he was your GREAT uncle in more ways than one. 54. During the years of 1989 thru 1991, our shlichus took us back to Florida, during which time our son Schneur was born. As in the case of all our other places of shlichus, Hashem didn’t let us get bored. We experienced many exciting incidents and miracles. Although we had many wonderful things happen, most of the time we didn’t really get to see what kind of effect and influence we had on others. Since we were in Florida for only a short time, we really did not get to see as many open miracles, (compared to our other places of shlichus,) although lately we have gotten feedback from people on how we have had positive influence on their lives, in ways we hadn’t known about. There is one family that we have become very close with. When we first moved to Florida, the shul was in a small strip mall. Two stores over, was a sales office. The owner of the company had absolutely no interest in our shul, and we felt like he didn’t even want us to call on him as a tenth for a minyan, so we didn’t. His wife belonged to a group of women who would get together once a week just to discuss certain common interests. One of the women in the group was a baalas teshuvah who was friendly with my wife, so she asked her to join the group and inject some Yiddishkeit into it. It had somewhat of a positive effect on all the women in the group, but the biggest effect was on the wife of the shul’s neighbor. Nevertheless, he kept his distance. One day there was an accident just outside the shul. A motorcycle crashed into a pickup truck. The woman driving the truck was able to get out of the truck and sit down by the side. But the biker flipped over and landed in the back of the pickup. He was dazed and couldn’t move on his own. Meanwhile part of the truck caught on fire. I was afraid that the pickup could blow up, if the fire would get near the gas. So I jumped onto the back and tried to help the biker get off, but he was too dazed to help. He was big and heavy so I was calling out for bystanders to come and help me, but everyone was afraid. I exerted myself and G-d helped me, so I was able to pull him off and away from the pickup. The neighbor watched this whole incident and was impressed that I didn’t seem to differentiate the fact that the biker was a non-Jew, and I just did what had to be done to help another human being. This broke the ice between us, and we became quite friendly. He also started to come to shul, learn and draw close to Torah and mitzvos. So now both husband and wife were growing in their Yiddishkeit and were connected to Chabad. But they had three children who were not. One son was married and lived in a different state. Their daughter also resided in Florida, and lived on her own and was totally independent. Their other son, lived and worked with them, but had no interest in religion. This bothered his mother very much so she started to say Tehillim every day. She said the chapter connected to the years of his life, and in chapter 119 she said the verses connected with the letters of his name and the Hebrew words k’ra Satan, which is a request to foil the negative designs of the evil inclination. Within a week of her having started to say Tehillim for him, he suddenly approached his mother and asked that he would also like to start learning about Judaism. Today he is married and runs a chassidic home with his wife and six beautiful children. Eventually the parents moved to Crown Heights and became part of the community. Anyone who knew them related very well to them and looked up to them as very special people. About a month ago, the whole family came to Crown Heights to celebrate the mother’s 80th birthday. Unfortunately, she is now a widow, but her husband is definitely watching out for her from above. She asked us to join the celebration since we played a big role in their life. At the celebration, the younger son, on whom I thought I’d had no influence whatsoever, told me what a tremendous influence over his outlook in life I’d had with my telling him a certain story many years ago. The story follows his letter and will make it more understandable. This is what he wrote me: “Dear Rabbi, It was terrific to see you at my mother’s 80th birthday celebration in Crown Heights. I am sorry that it took me so long to write how the story of the two brothers impacted me. I had a great deal to think through. I hope that I captured in the attached document how the story impacted me. Good Shabbos, THE STORY OF THE TWO BROTHERS When we met, I had recently returned to civilian life after military service in Lebanon. I was gripped with a fury over what I had seen. Also, my health was rapidly fading. In Lebanon, I had been a combat solider. A few months later, I could barely walk up a slight incline. Doctors declared that I was suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, and prescribed sedatives. I knew that they were wrong, but I couldn’t manage to persuade anyone. We now know that my diabetes went undiagnosed for over a year. I did not have it within me to make a decision regarding my future. Yet, I needed to make a decision. What did civilian life promise for me? You told me the story of the two brothers. On one level, the story is a metaphor about different types of knowledge—learning of the pure (Torah) in contrast to knowledge that is more suitable for the “bathroom.” During our conversation, I made the commitment to learn the Talmud. I am proud to share with you that I fulfilled this commitment by completing a full cycle of Daf Yomi. When you told me the story, I was initially resistant because my mind was filled with ideas that you considered to part of the “bathroom” side. The “bathroom” in my house was too large in comparison to the rest of the house. So, during our conversation I decided to “expand my house” by returning to higher education. Eventually, I earned a post-doctorate in neuropsychiatric disorders. All the children with autism spectrum disorders and other developmental disorders who I have been able to help is a direct result of telling me the story. Over time, I also gained insight into the sphere of my mind that I label my “bathroom.” When I conduct research to help children and young adults, I may be characterized as rational and scientific. Yet, there is a part of me that is also whimsical. There are times when my research benefits from a walk from my rational “house” into my “bathroom.” When I am there, I am creative. If, however, I were to stay in the bathroom or if my bathroom were to be too large for my house, then I would not be able to translate my creativity into action. I tell my students the story of the two brothers. They, too, gain insight from the story. Through me, you continue to have an impact on future scholars.” The story he is referring to, as well as the story behind the story, is probably worth repeating: First the story behind the story: In the mid 1960’s Lubavitch Youth organization began to host what were calledpegishas (meetings.) They were two annual Shabbatons geared to non-Torah observant Jewish university students, to expose them to the beauty of their heritage. The weekend of X-mas break was the pegisha for male students and the New Year weekend was the pegisha for female students. After a few years of successful programming it was decided to make another pegisha during spring break geared for Yeshiva University and Stern College students. In other words, for those who already had some level of commitment towards Jewish values. We yeshiva bochurim would attend these Shabbatons for two basic reasons. 1. In order to help create the Shabbat spirit through song and dance; and 2. That we should learn from our elders how to present chassidus to the masses and what questions were asked and how to answer those questions. At the spring pegisha, geared for the more traditional Jewish student, a completely different atmosphere prevailed. At the winter pegishas the students were less belligerent, because they realized that for the most part they had never been exposed to the teachings of the Torah, and they were therefore much more open to hearing what the speakers had to say. Of course, they were hearing teachings that were totally contradictory to what they had learnt in the past, and they challenged the speakers, but they were a lot more respectful in the way of their questioning. However, in the spring pegisha, many of the participating students were convinced that they knew everything they needed to know about Torah observance, and they had a chip on their shoulders to boot. The main speaker at that first spring pegisha was Rabbi Yitzchok Groner a”h. He was an accomplished speaker, and a commanding presence. After he spoke, he opened the floor to questions. A young fellow got up and in an obviously contentious tone, challenged the Rebbe’s stance regarding college -- that it was harmful for the general Jewish populace, and only a small percentage of Jewish students would not be negatively affected by attending university. This antagonistic student argued that the Rebbe himself, as well as such greats as Rabbi Soloveichik, and the Rambam and his students had all studied secular studies, so why should the Rebbe recommend that others should not be allowed the same opportunities. Rabbi Groner then responded by giving an analogy of the above-mentioned story of two brothers. The story as Rabbi Groner told it: There were once two brothers who grew up in a small shtetl in Europe. When they reached adulthood, one was satisfied to simply marry and continue to live in the same shtetl. The other brother had great dreams of becoming a success in the big city. And so, bidding farewell to his brother and to the small town lifestyle, he went off to build his fortune. Thank G-d he succeeded and became very wealthy. The brothers always had a good relationship and they missed each other terribly. However, the wealthy brother didn’t have the time to travel to the shtetl to visit his dear brother. The brother in the shtetl, unfortunately didn’t have the necessary finances to travel to see his sorely missed brother. And so many decades passed with their mutual yearning for a reunion going unfulfilled. One day the wealthy brother had a beautiful idea and so he wrote to his brother. “My dearest brother, as you know we both miss each other so much, but the problem is that my business doesn’t give me the leisure to travel to you and your financial straits doesn’t give you the freedom to come visit me. But I had an idea. I am enclosing enough money for you to buy a ticket to come visit me and enough for you to leave your wife the money she needs to sustain the household during your absence. Please dear brother come visit with me so that we can once again pay homage to our brotherly love.” When the poor brother in the shtetl received this letter with the enclosed money he was overjoyed and made all the arrangements to make the trip. When he arrived at his brother’s home he was amazed to see a big beautiful mansion the likes of which he had never seen in his wildest dreams. After settling his brother in, the wealthy brother proudly showed his brother around his 100 room mansion. A kitchen, a butler’s pantry, a dining area, a living room, a den, an office, a library, a conference room, and bedrooms galore, one room more elaborately designed than the other. While being shown around, the poor brother noticed that there was a room off to the side that his brother hadn’t shown him. So he finally asked him, “my dear brother this is all so beautiful! But I’m curious -- what is behind that door that you are not showing me.” The wealthy brother replied, “no problem brother” and promptly opened the door to a beautifully decorated bathroom. A room with heated floors, a sunken bathtub, a Jacuzzi, a shower… with all the amenities and even some that you can’t even imagine. Upon seeing this, the poor brother was totally amazed and in awe. In his shtetl they only had outhouses and his brother had such fabulous indoor plumbing!?! After a couple of weeks of brotherly comradery, the poor brother turned to his rich brother and complimented him on his success in life. He told him that as much as he had enjoyed their time together, he needs to get back home to his own wife and children, and job. As he was about to leave, his brother slipped him an envelope as a parting gift. When the poor brother opened the envelope he saw that his brother had given him 2,000 rubles, an enormous amount of money, to help him out. Six months passed and the wealthy brother had to travel on a business trip that took him not far from the little shtetl where he grew up, and where his brother still lived. So he decided to surprise his brother with a little visit. When he showed up, his brother was thrilled to see him. They sat down to drink tea in his one multi-purpose room. His kitchen, his dining room and his bedroom were just one room divided with a couple of curtains. As they were catching up on family news, the wealthy brother noticed a newer looking door. So he asked his brother what was behind that door. The poor brother excitedly jumped up and said, “come my brother, let me show you!” He opened the door to a newly built fancy bathroom with all the beautiful amenities that he had seen in his brother’s house in the big city. The wealthy brother stared at this in shock and asked his brother, “but where did you get the money for this?” So the brother proudly told his brother, “This is thanks to the 2,000 rubles that you gave me!” The wealthy brother put his arm around his poor brother’s shoulders and gently explained to him -- “my beloved brother, only after you have 100 beautifully decorated rooms in the house does one spend money on making a designer bathroom.” As he finished this analogy, Rabbi Groner looked at the belligerent student and boomed out, “the Rambam, Rabbi Soloveichik and the Lubavitcher Rebbe have all mastered the 100 gates of Torah understanding. They can afford to spend time in the bathroom, but what are you doing in the bathroom!” Now back to the personal saga of this very special family. From various things that their father prepared and did differently than usual on his last trip, when he passed away in the hotel, it seemed that he had a premonition that this would be his final trip in this world. This I heard from both his wife and his older son. And now his younger son shared this beautiful thought with me. We all knew that after a hard day at work, his father enjoyed to unwind by reading novels. When he passed away, his son gathered together all his belongings in the hotel, but there were no novels there. The only book in his room was a Tanya, the main book of chassidic philosophy written by the Alter Rebbe, Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi. Because of that, his younger son committed himself to study the complete book of Tanya, and he did so. 55. In South Florida there was an Israeli talk show host who had a Jewish call-in radio program for three hours every Sunday. From 10:00 a.m. until noon it was in English, geared for Americans and other English-speaking audiences. From 12:00 noon until 1:00 p.m. it was in Hebrew, geared for the many Israelis living in Florida. He had at one time been a standup comedian in night clubs and had a tremendous sense of humor. It probably was why we took such a liking to each other, since I too enjoy humor. I once kidded with him that Jackie Mason and I are similar – He is a frustrated rabbi who became a comedian and I am a frustrated comedian who became a rabbi. J This talk show host, Danny Tadmore, was very well liked, and his show was quite popular. As is usually the case with media, the costs of running the programming is covered by spots sold as advertisements throughout the show. So one day I made a proposal to him. I would pay him for nine half-minute spots, three every hour, but instead of actually putting on an advertisement, we would turn the show into a three hour radio-thon to raise money for Chabad of North Miami Beach whose work I was connected with at that time. He liked the idea and agreed. I have to admit he gave me much more than I bargained for. Three weeks in advance Danny announced the upcoming Radio-thon, date and telephone numbers etc. He also announced that I would be interviewed on that program as a guest rabbi. Since the show ran from exactly 10:00 a.m. until 1:00 p.m. he recommended that I be at the station at 9:30 a.m. On the Sunday of the radio-thon, I came at 9:30 and was met by Danny, profusely apologizing. Florida is well known for its sudden and devastating storms. The night before, a powerful storm came roaring through that area and knocked out the station’s transmitting tower. Although the repairmen were working very diligently, they were estimating that “with luck” perhaps they could get it up by1:00 p.m., definitely not sooner. They were letting Danny know that his show would not be airing that day. So Danny was apologizing that after all the pre-advertising and preparation, the radio-thon would not be happening that day. I told him, “Not to worry -- in cases like this we call and inform the Rebbe, and miraculously everything works out.” I then asked Danny if I could use the station’s telephone to call New York, (this pre-dated cell phones.) He agreed and I tried calling the office of the secretariat of the Rebbe, but it was constantly busy, so I couldn’t get through. As time was short, I called my nephew, Heshy Spalter (at that time he was still a yeshiva student, today he is the shliach to Costa Rica,) and asked him to run over to Chabad headquarters and inform the Rebbe that we need a miracle. After I hung up with my nephew I turned to Danny and told him to get ready, for we will be going on the air on time. Danny laughed and said “rabbi, if we go on the air I will become a believer.” I responded with a smile, “Danny, we will go on the air, but you won’t become any more of a believer.” Danny meanwhile was walking around the room drinking coffee, doing other things and not seeming to be preparing for going on the air. I was getting nervous that he wouldn’t be ready on time. When he saw that I really was nervous about his not being ready, he assured me, “Rabbi, this room is set up for broadcasting from wherever in the room I am standing.” So I calmed down. At exactly 10:00 a.m., on the dot, the light in the room went on, “YOU’RE ON THE AIR.” True to his assurances, Danny was able to immediately begin speaking. He was so excited by his witnessing this open miracle, that he immediately began the program by relating what had happened. Throughout the program he repeated the story over and over again, every 10 to 15 minutes. Thank G-d the Radio-thon was a success. At the end of the program Danny turned to me and said, “You see rabbi -- I became a believer.” I shook my head and said “No you didn’t.” He was shocked, and said, “But I told the story over and over again.” I responded, “of course you did, because it was a beautiful story with which to entertain your audience, but a believer you didn’t become. You want proof?” I asked. When he shook his head, I asked him, “tomorrow morning when you get up, are you going to put on tefillin and say Shema?” From that commitment he backed off, so I said, “you see, a believer you didn’t become.” I concluded with a smile, “miracles are great jumpstarts, but they don’t make believers.” To receive Rabbi Lipszyc's Story of the week via Whatsapp add the number 513-456-7595 to your phone contacts, and then send a text to with the message "Join". 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