The Parasha Mishpatim says: “Three times a year you shall celebrate a festival for Me: You shall observe the Feast of Matzos —eating unleavened bread for seven days as I have commanded you — at the set month in the spring, for in it you went forth from Egypt; and none shall appear before Me empty-handed; and the Holiday of the Harvest, of the first fruits of your work, of what you sow in the field; and the Ingathering Festival at the end of the year, when you gather in the results of your work from the field.” [Num. 23:14-16]: There are several difficulties with the above Verses: 1) There are not 3 but 4 festivals as stated in Talmud Rosh Hashana [4b], as Shemini Atseres is an independent festival and not a part of Sukkos. 2) Every child knows that Rosh Hashana signifies the beginning of the Year, and Sukkos comes after. So why is the verse calls the Ingathering Festival the end of the year, we indeed just started the year. Besides, the Verse in Parashas Emor [23:39] states: “On the fifteenth of the seventh month after ingathering the produce you shall celebrate seven days.” So, even according to the counting from the month of Nisan as the first Month, Tishrei is the 7 months and not the end of the year? The Talmud [Sukkah 55b] informs: Throughout the week of Sukkos we are instructed to offer a total of 70 bulls in the Temple, but on Shemini Atzeres we are requested to offer only one. The 70 bulls’ offerings enable the 70 nations of the world to receive their yearly sustenance. The Zohar reveals that had the nations grasped how many blessings they obtain by the Jewish people performing the Mitzvos of Sukkah and Lulav, they would have set guards on every Jew to ensure they perform the Mitzva of Sukkah and Lulav. These Mitzvos are the essence of the yearly sustenance for nations and individuals alike, they are the source of all Parnassa. The Midrash Tanchuma [Pinchas 15] submits the following parable: A king used to make a yearly lavish banquet for all his servants. Though, on the final day he instructed his most beloved and dedicated servant, “Prepare a small meal just for you and I so that I can enjoy you for one day alone.” Similarly, Hashem, the King of the Universe, tells His servants to prepare an ‘international party’ on Sukkot and to bring sacrifices on behalf of the 70 nations of the world. But on the final day, Shemini Atzeres, we are required to prepare a small meal only for Hashem and His beloved Children. The burning question is: If Hashem loves us so much, why then request just a small meal rather than a giant feast for this unique and special occasion? The Bnei Yissaschar (Tishrei 13:1) provides a beautiful answer: Hashem specifically requests a small meal with Israel because it is not the meal that is of importance! Hashem values more the intimacy of the relationship, and wants no external distraction. It is a day where we conclude the Torah reading and start it anew. The Torah ends with the letter lamed and begins with a bet, spelling the word Leiv, meaning heart, indicating that all Hashem requires from us is some heart while serving Him. This is the main purpose of the entire creation. The Chinuch explains: Sukkos is a time of physical joy as it is the ingathering festival of all produce. Hence, the Miztvos of Sukkah and Lulav are reminiscent that physical joy is vain as we only are “visitors” in this world. Instead, all joys must be elevated to spirituality to engender blessings in our worldly lives. By engaging in physical Mitzvos dedicated to Hashem, we are elevating our natural physical joy to become exclusively Divine. Thus, on Shemini Atseres there is no need of any Mitzva to create closeness to Hashem, the connection is intrinsic. As the Arizal states, after the Holy days of Rosh Hashana, Yom Kippur, and the 7 days of Sukkos, our spiritual level is above the one of Angels. Had we been aware of it, we would never sin again! The Bnei Yissaschar citing the Zohar (Mishpatim 2:114a) describes the degree of our closeness with Hashem. The verse in Song of Songs 8:6 says, “Place me like a seal on your heart.” The closeness of the Jewish people with Hashem is like the closeness of a seal on a paper. Despite that the paper and the seal may go in different directions, once the paper has been stamped, the impression can never be removed. This, explains the Zohar, is the essence of Shemini Atzeres. As we complete the Torah and seal the reading (In Hebrew, the verb ‘chotmin’, means to complete as well as to seal) with a lamed and a bet (Leiv) we are sealing Hashem and His Torah in our hearts. Here is an inspiring story of Simchas Torah that is a clear statement that Hashem rules the world! They were mere boys—all under the age of eighteen—but in this case, their youth proved to be a liability, not the asset it had been under other circumstances. It was puzzling, really: Most camp commandants consigned teenagers sixteen and older to life, since they were deemed hardy enough for the slave labor force into which they were conscripted. But this camp commandant had drawn the line at eighteen instead, decreeing that all those who were younger be sent to certain death. His orders for additional selections grew shriller and more fevered with each passing day, multiplying the numbers fed into the furnaces. It was the fall of 1944 at Auschwitz, and Hungarian Jews—the last nationality to be transported to the camp—had arrived in massive numbers. The furnaces worked overtime as the inmates were sped to their inexorable fate. Everything about the camp seemed so surreal—the perpetual fog cover of smoke and ash but above all the constant smell of burnt flesh. Everything had happened so fast: being crammed into the cattle cars that had disgorged them at Auschwitz; the quick, merciless dismemberment of families as spouses, children, parents and siblings were torn apart from one another during the selections; being dispassionately stripped of the clothing and personal belongings that made them human, and the freezing-cold showers and assembly-line delousing that had followed. In only minutes, the new inmates had lost everything they owned, everything they loved, even their self-identity. Already, some were engulfed by the horror, so studded by their sudden plunge into hell, so mummified into Muselmann (the walking dead), that they could barely remember their own names, let alone the religious holidays. But there were those remnants, those few who still cared about observing the Jewish holidays; among them were fifty religious boys who had just been selected for the gas chamber and were now being herded into a bathhouse, ostensibly to take “showers.” It was late enough in concentration camp history that they boys knew the truth. Gas would pour through the pipes, not water. It was a ruse that the Nazis used to disarm the inmates, to ensure their cooperation. But these spiritual heroes made a conscious decision not to give in to them, choosing defiance instead. Amid the tumult in the bathhouse, one boy sprang up and shouted: “Brothers! Today is the holiday of Simchat Torah, when the Jewish world rejoices, having concluded the reading of the Torah over the past year, followed directly with the commencement of the new cycle of the Torah reading. During our short lives, we have tried to uphold the Torah to the best of our ability, and now we have one last chance to do so. Before we die, let us celebrate Simchat Torah one last time. “We do not possess anything anymore,” the boy continued. “We have nothing. We do not have clothes to cover us, nor a Sefer Torah with which to dance. So, let us dance with G-d Himself— who is surely here among us—before we return our souls to Him.” Since it had first been erected and used, the gas chambers had absorbed a cacophony of human sounds—screams, cries, moans, benedictions—that would forever reside within its cold earthen stone walls. But never had its rafters trembled with the pure, sweet strains of fifty young voices raised in fervent song, never before had its concrete floor shaken under the pounding of fifty pairs of feet stamping in unbridled joy. The boys pierced the heavens with their song: “Ashreinu mah tov chelkeinu u’mah nayim goraleinu umah yafah yerushateinu…” (How fortunate are we and how wonderful is our lot and how beautiful is our heritage.) “What is going on in there?” One scowling Nazi guard asked his comrade as they waited outside. “Why hasn’t the gas been turned on yet?” “It sounds like they’re singing…and dancing. Are they crazy?” another guard said in disbelief. “Go find out what’s causing the delay,” an officer commanded. “And get the commandant.” Summoned to the doors of the gas chamber, the commandant listened with growing fury to the incongruous revelry inside. He had watched Jews marching to their deaths hundreds of times before—some weeping softly, others reciting prayers—and he had relished these scenes. But this—this singing and dancing—this was unacceptable. He flung open the gas chamber doors and pulled one boy toward him. “You!” he shouted. “Tell me why you are singing and dancing now.” “Because leaving a world where Nazi beasts reign is cause for celebration,” the boy sneered. “And because we are overjoyed at the prospect of reuniting with our beloved parents, whom you murdered so viciously.” The commandant became enraged at the boy’s contemptuous words. Obsequiousness…fear…last-ditch attempts to ingratiate one’s self into his favor—those were acceptable modes of behavior. Insolence was not. “I’ll teach you a lesson,” he screamed as the boys continued to dance and sing, heedless of his presence. “You thought that the gas chamber would be your last stop. You’ll find out otherwise. The gas chamber would have been easy and painless compared to what awaits you now. I will torture each one of you with unbearable suffering. I will slice your flesh till you expire.” The commandant ordered to remove the boys from the gas chamber and place them in a holding block overnight. He planned to begin the torture sessions the following day. But the next morning, his plans again went awry. A high-ranking Nazi officer had traveled to Auschwitz to round up slave labor for an ammunition factory. He needed several hundred young, able-bodied men capable of performing grueling work under barbarous conditions. As he strode through the camp looking for prospects, the Nazi officer passed by the barracks in which the fifty religious boys had been jailed. Their vitality undiminished by their overnight stay, the boys still radiated strength and good healthy. “Excellent,” the Nazi officer smiled in satisfaction. “Exactly the type of boys I need.” The Nazi officer pulled rank on the camp commandant, who revealed nothing about his original plans for the boys’ fate. He stood silently as the Nazi officer ordered the boys—and several hundred other inmates—to board the trucks that rolled out of Auschwitz into safer climes. Some say that the boys left the grounds singing. Postscript: Survivors of Auschwitz report that all fifty boys survived the war.

By Rabbi Fridmann * [email protected] * 305.985.3461

Have A Question? Ask The Rabbi and he will Answer

990 NE 171 Street  –  North Miami Beach, Florida 33162  –  (786) 405-9692  –  www.badatzmiami.com