Meshulem lost everything in the war — everything. He was all alone. Even more than that, he was angry, and he decided that he was done with Torah, done with mitzvos. His friends tried to convince him...to no avail. Meshulem was not willing to listen to anyone.
“But, Meshulem,” his friends pressured, “the Klausenburger Rebbe (Rabbi Yekusiel Yehudah Halberstam, zt”l, 1905-1994) is in the camp. Why don’t you go to him? He knows how to give chizuk.”
“I don’t need chizuk,” Meshulem retorted bitterly. “I saw everything with my own eyes. I saw what they did. I am done with chizuk! I want nothing more to do with G-d or religion.”
His friends were persistent, and finally, Meshulem relented. “Fine!” he snapped. “I’ll go to him, but on one condition — the Rebbe should not speak one word to me about Yiddishkeit.”
The Rebbe agreed. Meshulem walked in, and before the Rebbe could even say a word, Meshulem said, “Please only ask me ‘yes’ or ‘no’ questions. I will not answer with more than one word!”
“Are You Angry?”
The Rebbe asked him, “Are you angry?”
“Of course!”
“Why?” the Rebbe asked.
“What kind of a question is that?” Meshulem exclaimed. “I lost holy parents, brothers and sisters. All of them were tzaddikim. And me!” he exploded. “I was always the black sheep. I was a nothing! Yet, I am the one who remained alive. Is that called Hashgachah? Is that called Hashem running the world?”
“This also happened to you?” the Rebbe cried out in astonishment. “Just like it happened to me? I also lost parents, grandparents, brothers, sisters, my wife, and all of my eleven children. I, the lowest of them all, am also the only one who remained alive!”
A Fully Twenty Minutes of Heaving, Cleansing Crying
The Rebbe then put his hand on Meshulem’s shoulder and began to cry, tears coursing down his cheeks. Meshulem also began to cry, shaking with sobs, the bitters tears streaming from his eyes. One minute passed, two minutes...a full twenty minutes of heaving, cleansing crying.
When R’ Meshulem, who had come to the New York area to spend Yom Tov with his children who live in Flatbush, told this story to Rabbi Paysach Krohn, Rabbi Krohn asked him, “So, what made you do teshuvah and start living as a Yid again?”
“Those twenty minutes!” was his reply. “At that meeting, the Rebbe didn’t speak to my brain. He spoke to my heart! After crying for those twenty minutes, after unburdening all the pain and anger from my heart, I was able to do teshuvah and start keeping mitzvos again.”
It was in Kiryat Sanz, Netanya, at the Shabbos sheva berachos of his oldest son, the current Sanzer Rebbe. The minhag in Sanz at a Shabbos sheva berachos is that before reading from the Torah on Shabbos morning, the chassan delivers a pilpul derashah in halachah and aggada. The Rebbe’s son indeed gave a brilliant, intricate derashah.
After the chassan’s derashah, instead of continuing with Krias HaTorah, the Klausenburger Rebbe walked up to the bimah and gave his own derashah on the same sugya, adding many new chiddushim to those of his son.
When he was about to finish, the Rebbe began speaking, completely uncharacteristically, on a personal note. He said, “I am standing here, amazed and astounded! What good thing could I have done in my life to give nachas to Hashem that He has repaid me with such berachah? After thinking about this a lot, I came to the conclusion that I never, ever, expressed any displeasure or complaints against Hashem, no matter how much I suffered. Whatever I endured, I accepted Hashem’s will with love...”
Reprinted from the Parshat Acharei Mos 5784 email of At the ArtScroll Shabbos Table. Excerpted from the ArtScroll book – “The Klausenburger Rebbe” by Avrohom Birnbaum.
