Feature Tidbit YomHaShoaHaZikaronHaAtzmaut It's been a long time since the last Torah Tidbits until this one. More than Pesach and the first part of the Omer has occurred between issues - my eldest daughter became a mother, my son-in-law became a father, my other two daughters became aunts, and my wife and I have joined that very special club of grandparenthood - all for the first time, B"H. May Dvir Moshe be a constant source of nachas to his parents, family, and Klal Yisra'el. TT publication schedule as it is this year, this issue falls between Yom HaShoa and Yom HaAtzma'ut. What I am going to write about would have been more appropriate for pre-Yom HaShoa, but I consider the point too valuable to allow it to go unwritten. Different thoughts are competing for expression in the next couple of paragraphs, to help give a Yom HaAtzma'ut perspective to the mainly Yom HaSho'a idea. I was recently asked to explain the concept of MITAT TZADIKIM M'CHAPERET, the death of the righteous is an atonement (for us). I responded with an idea - one of many, to be sure - that MIGHT give a bit of an answer to the question. Simply put, when G-d takes a tzadik's NESHAMA from him, He also takes the tzadik from us. We might say that this double-taking by G-d is not really "fair", not to the tzadik, nor to us. And we can say, so to speak, that "He owes us". When that happens, G-d's Midat HaRachamim, His Quality of Mercy, expands and moves into first place, so to speak. The result is payback, or partial payback (and we can never know the "amounts" involved) in the form of KAPARA, atonement. On a nationwide scale, can we suggest that G-d "owed us big" for the Holocaust? If yes, it has been suggested by many, that the (partial) payback was the return of Jewish sovereignty to Eretz Yisra'el in the establishment of the State of Israel. The end to a homelessness characterized by hatred, prejudice, jealousy, and quotas. This does not mean that we had a choice: Let us continue to be homeless but don't subject us to the Shoa. And it's not an issue of, "was it worth it?" G-d did what He did, He allowed people to do what they did. We do not - cannot - know why. But, if there is anything to this, then we can get back to the main point and it is still timely, even though Yom HaShoa has passed. It seems that Yom HaShoa used to be called Yom HaGevura (heroism, courage, strength). Later it became known as Yom HaShoa V'ha'Gevura. It seems that there were/are some Jews who look at the Holocaust with a feeling of shame and embarrassment. They perceive a passive, "as sheep lead to the slaughter" deportment on the part of most Holocaust victims. Why didn't they fight back? Why did they just let it happen? And then they heard stories of armed resistance. That's more like it, they felt. That is bravery. That is something we can be proud of. That is something we can commemorate each year. Not the shameful Holocaust, but the proud moments of resistance, of courage. Such as the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising. And so, it seems, the 27th of Nissan was chosen as the memorial day for the Heroism and Bravery, and Gevura of the Holocaust years. The attitude referred to in the previous paragraph caused a backlash reaction in some religious circles. Yom HaShoa was denied recognition on the Jewish calendar and in Jewish hearts. Probably there was an anti-State and anti-Zionist component to the "complaints" about Yom HaShoa. But the point here is that the people of two paragraphs ago need to be taught an important lesson about Gevura, and the people of one paragraph ago need to help teach that lesson and help heal a widening split among us, rather than contribute to the polarization of the Jewish community. If physical armed resistance to our enemy is a display of Gevura, then the following entry from Rabbi Ephraim Oshry's Responsa from the Holocaust (Judaica Press, NY, 1989) is no less a display of the magnificent Jewish courage that we can all - religious or otherwise - be proud of and inspired by. I include the whole question and answer despite its length, as a tribute to Rabbi Oshry and other who survived the Holocaust and in memory of Moshe Goldkorn and others who did not. Question: In the winter of 5702 (1942), several months before Pesach, many of the Jews in the Kovno ghetto began to try to figure out ways to fulfill the mitzva of eating matza. At that time even the most basic foods were not available in the ghetto, let alone white flour from which matza is normally baked. The ghetto prisoners ate whatever they could get their hands on because the black bread that was rationed out was never enough to keep away hunger, and the Germans guarded against any food getting into the ghetto. Precisely because of this plight, people made every effort not to be ensnared by depression or apathy but to retain their spirits and their psychological strength, hoping that the evil forces would ultimately be destroyed and the prisoners set free. Many of the ghetto prisoners perceived that the only means available to them of opposing the will of their accursed German warders was to maintain some form of Torah study, along with keeping the mitzvos so that the Jewish character would not be destroyed. Toward this end, I organized a small secret group of men who undertook to find ways and means of obtaining flour so that they could bake matzos and fulfill, at the very least, the mitzva of eating a KAZAYIT of matza on Pesach eve. One member of the group was Moshe Golkorn, HY"D, a Polish Jew who had escaped the German murderers and found his way to Lithuania, only to be cast into the Kovno ghetto along with us. This man labored in the Jordan Brigade and came into contact with Lithuanians with whom he could barter goods for flour. Our next problem was how to get the flour into the ghetto, since the Germans guarded each one of the entrances, and were especially careful that no food, from potatoes to bread, should get in through the gates undetected. But Goldkorn took it upon himself - literally at the risk of his life - to locate a source for flour, and from time to time to smuggle a small amount into the ghetto. His joy at being granted the merit of making it possible for Jews to fulfill the great mitzva of eating matza was enormous. The flour was hidden in a secret place and guarded very carefully so that no harm would come to it. Bit by bit, Goldkorn smuggled in enough flour to bake matzos for nearly 100 Jews, each of whom would receive one KAZAYIT of matza. As Pesach drew nearer, the members of this group, at the risk of their lives, managed to bake the matzos in Block C, die Kleine Werkstaten (the small workshops), where bread was baked for the ghetto families. With permission from the directors of the Werkstaten, this group managed to bake all the matzos over a 10-day period after preparing the oven according to Halacha. But the happiest of them all was Goldkorn, for he had merited the privilege of bringing the flour in, not only for himself, but for the other Jews. At that time, it was indeed a very great mitzva that Goldkorn had fulfilled - providing the means for so many people to fulfill this aspect of the holiday of freedom in accordance with Halacha, inspiring hope in his fellow-Jews that they might yet live to celebrate this holiday with joy after the defeat of their German enemies. Two days before Pesach, Goldkorn was returning from his labor in the evening. He was stopped by German police and searched. A small bag of flour was found on his person. When the Germans realized that a Jew, despite their strict orders to bring no food into the ghetto, had dared violate their edict, they beat him violently and viciously all along his entire body, but the worst of it was that they broke all of his teeth. Yet this Jew, throughout all of his suffering, accepted it with love for his Creator, knowing that he had made it possible for so many others to fulfill a precious mitzva. Afterward, Goldkorn came to me with a very serious problem. As he spoke, he broke into tears. "With my broken teeth, how can I fulfill the mitzva of eating matza? Since I come from a Chasidic family whose custom is never to eat matza that is soaked (gebroktz) on Pesach, how can I break that custom now? Is there any way for me to fulfill the mitzva of eating matza?" Response: The tradition of not soaking matza is a stringency. Halacha does not forbid soaking matza. I allowed the questioner to soak the matza in water even though he was descended from Chasidim whose custom was not to eat soaked matza on Pesach - because he had no other way of fulfilling the mitzva, a mitzva for which he had risked his life. I did however instruct him to obtain permission from a Beis Din of three people which would annul the implicit vow of the tradition of his forbears that he had upheld all his life not to eat soaked matza on Pesach. After we set up a beis din which annulled his "vow", he proceeded to fulfill the mitzva of eating matza together with all the others who, thanks to him, fulfilled this mitzva. Although his body was aching and scarred from the vicious beating the German animals had inflicted upon him, there was no end to his joy and his thanks to G-d for granting him the privilege of eating matza despite his wounds and his broken teeth. To those who thought of the remembrance day as a "celebration" of G'VURA - you got it right. Maybe not (only) what you had in mind, but G'VURA it was. And is. And continues to be. Armed resistance succeeds in its goal, or not. Spiritual resistance, remaining spiritually free at times of greatest oppression, keeping Jewish hope alive under the most adverse conditions - this is the formula for the survival - and flourishing - of the Jewish People. As far as "apologizing" for this piece being after Yom HaShoa, I take it back. This has been a long Lead Tidbit for K'DOSHIM TI'H'U.
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