When the Bobover Rav, R’ Shlomo Halberstam, arrived in America after surviving the Holocaust, he settled in the West Side of Manhattan. With barely a minyan, the Rav and his son, R’ Naftoli, would often stand on the sidewalk in search of Jewish men to complete the minyan.
One Erev Shabbos, they called in a man named Yankel, who was also a Survivor. Yankel shared that back in “der heim” he had served as the baal tefillah in his shtetl. When the Bobover Rav heard that, he said, “Wonderful! Please lead the Kabolas Shabbos for us!”
This continued for many weeks – Yankel would lead the minyan in Kabolas Shabbos. As they got to know him, it was clear that Yankel’s traumatic war experiences had left him angry at G-d for all he had endured.
One Friday, Yankel did not come. And the following week he did not come. The Bobover Rav was concerned. He asked R’ Naftoli to find him. But they did not know his address.
“He said he lives on the other side of Central Park,” said the Bobover Rav, “so go there and see if you can find him.” R’ Naftoli took someone along, and they started their search, which felt like finding a needle in a haystack. As they walked through Central Park, they were shocked to see Yankel sitting on a bench smoking a cigar – on Shabbos!
Rav Naftoli Reported Back What He Saw to the Bobover Rav
They went over and relayed that the Bobover Rav was concerned about his welfare. Yankel nodded, thanked them, and continued smoking his cigar. R’ Naftoli reported back to his father, “We found Yankel in the park. Unfortunately, he was smoking a cigar.”
The Rav responded, “It can’t be.”
“But we saw him smoking with our own eyes.”
The Rav again said, “It can’t be.”
“But we are two witnesses, who both saw him smoking on Shabbos.”
The Rav responded, “He’s not the one smoking, it’s the Germans that are smoking. You don’t know what he went through.”
The next week, Yankel returned to shul. The Rav greeted him with, “R’ Yankel, I’ve been missing your Lecha Dodi! Please daven for us.”
Fast forward 30 years. The Rav was now a leader of thousands of chassidim. One day, a man approached the Rav after Shacharis. “Rebbe, do you remember me? I’m Yankel from your minyan in the West Side.”
The Bobover Rebbe game him a very warm welcome. Yankel continued, “I am marrying off my first grandchild, and I’d be honored if the Rav would be mesader kiddushin.”
At Least 100 Frum Grandchildren
The Rav explained that he didn’t even do it for many of his own grandchildren, but agreed to come to one of the Sheva Brachos. R’ Naftoli came along with the Rav to the simcha. When they entered, they saw at least 100 of Yankel’s grandchildren – all Bnei Torah, many learning in Kollel.
The Bobover Rav turned to R’ Naftoli and said, “Didn’t I tell you? It was the Germans smoking that cigar; it wasn’t him.” The Rav relegated the cigar smoking on Shabbos to the effects of Yankel’s traumatic experiences, not attributing it to his essence. It’s not that the Rav judged R’ Yankel favorably – he did not judge him at all!
Reprinted from the Rosh Hashana 5784 email of The Weekly Vort.
