Me and Rabbi Shimon • Benjamin Lipkin: Grandfather's house was next to the Rashbi's Zion

May 14, 2017   

• Editor of the Herald, Benjamin Lipkin, how did your special connection with Meron come about? "The story is as follows," Benjamin Lipkin begins his conversation with Haredim10. "My grandfather, my mother's father, Rabbi Chaim Ze'ev Laufer, was a Meron man all these years. In fact, he immigrated to Israel from Poland, and was caught up in the War of Independence. When he immigrated to Israel, it turned out that he was the only one left of his entire family - his parents, brothers, sisters, all of whom were killed in the Holocaust, and he himself, with his small family, settled in the Galilee. He built his first house near Zion in Meron, when it was still an abandoned Arab village. Later, the Agency arrived there and established the settlement of Meron. When they drew lots to determine who would receive each house, they took him out of the lot - and said: 'You get the place closest to Zion.' One of the most famous stories that has been going on in Meron all these years is the story about him and my grandmother, who was sick with typhus and hospitalized in Poriya Hospital in Tiberias. Every morning he would leave Meron by bus to visit her, but before that he would go to the only place in the moshav where there was a telephone line, he would call to hear what was going on. Hello. One morning when he called, he was told that her condition was very, very bad and that until he arrived, he would have no one to see. That's what they told him. When he heard these things, instead of rushing to get on the bus, he went first to Zion - to Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, stood at the entrance to Zion and said: 'Lord of the Universe, if my wife should die, I ask that you take my cow in her place. That my cow may die in her place.' He said this, and immediately left, began to descend from the great mountain of Meron, and behold, the neighbors greeted him with shouts: 'Your cow is dying and you are with Rabbi Shimon?' They brought in the veterinarian and in a short time he pronounced the cow dead. My grandfather decided that before he left the village, he would call the hospital again. The doctor told him: I don't know what happened, but your wife is sitting on the bed and asking what happened, why weren't you there in the morning. My grandmother lived another 9 years after this story. He testified that there was nothing he asked of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai that he didn't get. A veteran Meron man, everyone knows him. • When you say that you are a grandson of Meron, third generation in Meron, what is your first memory of Meron as a child? I have a pretty faint memory that we would go there, my grandfather would light the 'Ner Hatamid' there, which was his privilege. It's more on the side of Rabbi Elazar's grave, it's not that accessible to the public, but it's a 'Ner Tamid' that is lit with oil from time to time. He was the one who lit it. Once, one of my family members wasn't feeling well and he gave him the oil to put in the place where he had a problem, in his ear, and it went away without a trace. He was. Later, he bequeathed this property to Rabbi Meir Stern, the rabbi of Meron. I remember the days when we would come to Meron for vacations with my grandfather. Ever since I can remember, I used to travel to Meron on Lag BaOmer. My grandfather wrote in his will: 'When you are in Meron, remember me.' My grandmother is buried there in the cemetery high up in the mountain. He himself was buried in Jerusalem because he wrote that if he died in Meron, we would bury him in Meron, and if not, then on the Mount of Olives, next to his father-in-law. Certainly, all of us in the family feel the need to come to Meron on Lag BaOmer and feel a very deep emotional connection to the place. • When you look at the Meron of today and the Meron that used to be, do you miss it? There is no doubt that it was much more authentic. My mother says that when she was a child, they would wake her and her sisters and her brother, who later lived there for many years in Meron, but he has since passed away - in the middle of the night and tell them, 'You've slept enough,' make room for the people who came to Rabbi Shimon to sleep. They very naturally vacated their beds for the guests who arrived. I remember that my grandfather was always angry with those who complained and complained about the stalls. He was happy that the immigrants were increasing, and he never complained about anything, but rather the opposite. • What is the oldest story in your family about immigrating to Meron on Lag BaOmer? Imagine that my parents' wedding, which took place in Jerusalem, ended at nine in the evening because the people of Meron had to return to the moshav and the next day's katif. My grandfather was very careful to be in Meron on Lag BaOmer, both when he lived in Jerusalem and abroad and when he was in a nursing home. One day my mother came in the morning and saw that he was not there. It turns out that during the night he put on the shtreimel, the kaputta, went downstairs, hailed a taxi and drove with him to Meron, because he said: I will not lose Meron. • When you look at the old Meron and the one of today, do you think that there are any points that are worthy of note and praise for the changes that have occurred recently? Yes, if in the past it was mainly the preserve of the Hasidim, today everyone comes, all the congregations, and when you see the Jewish people in their prime, when there are no differences of opinion, everyone dances together, rejoices together, prays together, you see how worthy Rabbi Shimon is to rely on in times of need. This is certainly a beautiful and very joyful thing, I wish we could apply this throughout the entire year. It is certainly a blessed thing. • What do you miss most about the days of the past that you remember? More authentic, less institutionalized joy. Look, there are things that were and remain, the two at night and the tomb of Rabbi Yochanan the Sandaler, where all the clarinet players sit there - it's a beautiful thing that has been preserved. I remember that in Meron itself it was customary every Shabbat, and I think it is to this day, to sing Lecha Dodi to the tune of Bar Yochai. Today there is no longer an empty Shabbat in Meron, once only a few would come, most of them would pray in the moshav downstairs, and in Zion there were only a few, my grandfather was among the few who made sure to pray in Zion every Shabbat on his Sabbath. • When you say Meron, what comes to mind? I see the image of my grandfather before my eyes. • I want to ask you about the saga that this year has brought up more than ever: the desecration of the Sabbath. I am too weak to decide and express an opinion on this issue. There are Rebbes here, Torah gurus. I am confident that they will find the right advice and do everything to prevent unnecessary desecration of the Sabbath. We need to get into proportion. In total, the Jewish people come in droves to the Western Wall every year on Shavuot, and there they are welcomed by security forces more than usual. I think that in the holy courtyards, the work is done and everything is taken into account. Their goal is positive and holy, and there will only be the sanctification of God. • When I hear your words, I hear someone who has had many experiences with Miron. On the other hand, we all know your occupation as a media person. Are you trying to convey your feelings? Every time. Absolutely. Throughout my years of work, I have been sharing my experiences with readers.