""Got Yom Tov!", "Got Yom Tov!", the festive greeting is uttered by everyone at the end of Yom Kippur. And I sit down to write to you, or at least start writing my weekly column.
We have twenty days ahead of us, filled with joy, without regrets, from the end of Yom Kippur until after Shabbat Bereshit, until the light of Rosh Chodesh Cheshvan shines upon us.
The weather here is pleasant. It's a beautiful autumn. A pleasant breeze is blowing, and if it weren't for the intense cold produced by the synagogue air conditioners, I probably wouldn't have caught a cold.
Here it is in New York, in the Crown Heights neighborhood. The world center of Chabad Hasidism.
On the eve of Yom Kippur, in my search for a synagogue that would meet my needs and requirements - not crowded; not stuffy; of Hebrew speakers; without a million little girls jumping on their heads and wiping their bamba on their white skirts; without talking during prayer and with plenty of mashrut (no shaking. So you can't bring one from home) - I've already been to three synagogues, out of fifty and a similar number of minyanim here in the neighborhood.
I didn't allow myself to dream of praying in 770. Hundreds of girls, teenagers, and women crowded the place from end to end. The women's section was packed to the brim. And when I say packed, I mean packed to the brim. Not a single standing room was available.
It is true that in "The King" not a single word was heard in all the women's aid, despite the terrible crowding, but as I was told, not a single cycle of medicine was found. Yes. I am often critical and judgmental. But I am learning to see the good things and thank God for all the good things He has given me. Like, for example, the wonderful family that hosts me (my daughter, son-in-law and granddaughters), and for the wonderful weather and the synagogue I found.
And even for all those women who never set foot in a synagogue all year long, who serve as women's helpers in the neighborhood synagogues. I look up and ask God to give me even a promille from the defense of the great Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berdichev. And God answered my prayer.
Chabad demands order
I see them on the Thursday after Yom Kippur, as I come out of morning prayer. Dozens, maybe hundreds, of modest and pious girls, young girls, sitting on the mosaic outside the Women's Aid at 770. Girls holding a study book for the year of the "Khāchāl." You can see from them that distant Manhattan doesn't interest them at all. Most of them have come here for the first time.
It's a sunny morning after the holy day, and I'm intrigued by the feelings of those born after the 3rd of Tammuz. How they feel the holiness. How they manage in a neighborhood that is all about hospitality.
""Tell me, how do you feel?" I ask a trio of girls who are busy studying the commandment of 'Hakal'.
""It's fun. We're happy," they answer in unison.
""Where do you sleep? What do you do during the day?""
They are "Chabad girls" from the city of Emmanuel. One is only in the 11th grade and this is her first time at 770. The other two were already here last year. From morning to night, they are in an environment of study and activity. "Every evening we end the day by reciting Shema here at 770 and return to the apartment. Each group has a counselor who is responsible for the girls.".
This order, and in general the Lubavitch order, manages to surprise me every time. Israelis are not known for order and organization. But what do we say here? "Lubavitch mont seder." Lubavitch demands order.
I ask them about the fast they went through, and they say: "Yom Kippur was the most exciting day since we got here." One of them adds that the climax was when the men played "Napoleon March" and especially when the thousands shouted "Shema Israel" and "G-d is God" earlier.
The second says: "Even when I was little, I felt as if the Rebbe was here with us." Yes. Dear readers, this is the "fun" of Chabad girls. This is what makes them happy.
To want. Just to want.
I return to the apartment where I am staying and am drawn into the nonsense that is happening in Israel. Bar Refaeli's wedding is taking over social media. It's hard for me not to see the huge difference between those who are immersed in holiness and purity all day and those who are busy with gossip and worldly affairs.
It's a pleasure to be here. Really fun. A break from the vanities that occupy our lives. But in the meantime, I think that Yom Kippur has only just ended and I should only think well of other Jewish women.
Which reminds me of a little story:
Once the previous Rebbe, the Rebbe of Lubavitch, went to his father, the Rashba, on the day after Yom Kippur and asked him: "Father, what do we do now?" - and his father replied: "Now we need to start doing Teshuvah...""
It is true that on Shabbat we read the section called "Listen," but I am already busy with the section called "Vatu Barakah," the only one that does not have its own Shabbat. This section, which seals the Holy Torah, is a section called "Barakah.".
My late grandmother told us to always bless. To thank God all the time and not to stop blessing. "We need to show God that we need to." I have a hard time translating these words into Hebrew, because in Yiddish it sounds better.
Grandma taught us that the verse "Open your hand," teaches us that we need to open our hands and ask. Open them and be grateful for what we have. We need to want and say it out loud: "Open your hand and satisfy the desire of every living thing." We need to want. Simply want.
Modesty and priesthood hand in hand
In the blessing of Asher, Moses, the father of the prophets, the source of the blessing, says the following words: "Blessed are the sons of Asher." But further on the words "and he bathed his feet in the oil," the holy Rashi notes that this blessing also refers to daughters.
Moreover, Rashi notes the beauty of the daughters of the tribe of Asher who "were married to high priests.".
What is the connection between the two things? What is the connection between beauty and priesthood? It is clear that the superficial saying, "The best for the pilot and the best for the pilots," is not a Jewish saying.
I found the answer to this question in one of the Rebbe's sacred talks. The Rebbe explains that a woman's true beauty is measured by her modesty. After all, "all the glory of a king's daughter is within." And from this it is clear what the connection is to the priesthood.
The Midrash says that a modest woman is worthy of marrying a high priest and appointing high priests, and it says that a woman named Mechit was blessed with sons who served in the high priesthood thanks to her modesty.
The connection between modesty and the high priesthood and between these two and Yom Kippur is clear and understandable. The High Priest enters on Yom Kippur before and before. To the most sacred and hidden place of the people of Israel. The place where the Divine Presence resides in this world. In that way, the connection between the parsha and this blessing on Yom Kippur and the reason that brought me to write about the parsha is also understandable, even though we are standing before the parsha of the Hearer.
I pray that thanks to the hundreds and thousands of girls and women who host and are hosted here in the neighborhood, we will be blessed that during this holiday, the holiday of Sukkot of the Year of the Congregation, when the King is supposed to gather all of us, men, women, and children, to help in Jerusalem and read to us from the Torah scroll, we will all be in Jerusalem, the Holy City, in the Third Temple. A large crowd will return here!
• Part of the column is based on the talks of the Lubavitcher Rebbe. The author is the owner of "My Choice", an event host, lecturer and radio broadcaster: [email protected]
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