The following speech in memory of Shmully Moskowitz was delivered at SBH, Shabbat, Parashat Matot-Masei, 5777.
I am so honored to have been asked to speak in memory of my dear friend Shmully, a”h. My earliest memories of Shmully go back more than twenty years ago, when I was still studying in yeshiva. Though he was no longer “officially” studying in the yeshiva, he would frequently come to the Rosh Yeshiva, Rabbi Chait’s shiur. No matter what the topic, or how complex the discussion, Shmully was “holding,” as we say in yeshivish. Most of the shiur would be a dialogue between Shmully and Rabbi Chait that very few people were able to follow. We would simply watch and behold the wonder of Shmully’s agile and profound mind.
I am so honored to have been asked to speak in memory of my dear friend Shmully, a”h. My earliest memories of Shmully go back more than twenty years ago, when I was still studying in yeshiva. Though he was no longer “officially” studying in the yeshiva, he would frequently come to the Rosh Yeshiva, Rabbi Chait’s shiur. No matter what the topic, or how complex the discussion, Shmully was “holding,” as we say in yeshivish. Most of the shiur would be a dialogue between Shmully and Rabbi Chait that very few people were able to follow. We would simply watch and behold the wonder of Shmully’s agile and profound mind.
Though he was undoubtedly a genius, what was so unique about
Shmully was his gift with people. He possessed a kind of openness and ease of
relating that anyone who was blessed to know him could tell you countless
stories about. There was no one he would not receive with סבר פנים יפות—with a welcoming and embracing
smile. If each of us
could emulate even a fraction of Shmully’s openness and receptivity to others the
world would certainly be a better place.
I hope that my remarks will be an honor to his memory.
We are now in the middle of the three weeks period—Bein
haMeitzarim, between the straits—leading up to Tisha B’av on which we commemorate the
destruction of, principally, the first and second Temples. Close to 40 years
before the destruction of the first Temple, Yoshiyahu haMelekh led a massive
campaign to purge the Land of idolatry and return the people to the service of
Hashem. Sadly, his son, Yehoyakim, did not continue in his footsteps and through
his wicked deeds sealed the decree for destruction. The following two deeply
connected, yet diametrically opposed stories are about the seminal events of
these two men’s lives.
Story #1: (Melakhim II, 22)
In the eighteenth year of Yoshiyahu’s rule, while undergoing
repairs to the Temple, Shafan the Sofer/scribe came to the king with some
interesting news…
“Chilikiya
the Kohen has given me a Sefer/scroll,” he announced.
Chilkiya read the scroll before the king—it was the Torah. What
part of the Torah he read him, we do not know. (Rashi tells us he read from the
curses listed in Sefer Devarim—specifically the verse (28:36) which says, “G-d
shall cast out you and the king you place over you to a nation you and your
fathers never knew—and there you shall serve other gods, of wood and stone.”) Whatever
he read to him, Yoshiyahu was shaken. Awakened from a spiritual slumber he was
horrified to see how low he and the people had descended—how steeped in pagan
worship and immoral behavior. Mortified, he tore his garments. He commanded a
contingent including Chilkiya the Kohen Gadol, Shafan the Sofer and Shafan’s
son Achikam to, and I quote, “seek out Hashem for me, the people, and all of
Yehuda, concerning the ספר הנמצא הזה, the sefer that has been found, for great is the wrath
of Hashem against us for our forefathers have not paid heed to the words of
this sefer to do
everything that is written concerning us.” (22:13)
What followed was a religious reformation like no other. Yoshiyahu
haMelekh was utterly transformed. He gathered all the people and read the Torah
in a massive gathering in which he and the people rededicated themselves to the
covenant. He removed the pagan icons and paraphernalia that had been placed in
the Temple and idolatry and all form of pagan practice were purged from the
land.
Story #2: (Yirmiyahu 36)
Now we must fast forward roughly 17 years to the fourth year
of Yoshiyahu’s son Yehoyakim’s reign—now less than 30 years before the
destruction.
Yirmiyahu was instructed by Hashem to take a מגילת ספר/a scroll and have Barukh, the
Sofer, write all of his prophecies concerning Yisrael, Yehuda and the other
nations…perhaps the people would, as a result, repent.
Radak, the pashtan, suggests this marked
the beginning of Yirmiyahu’s literary output—he was instructed to write most of
what we now call Sefer Yirmiyahu. The Chakhamim suggest that he was bidden to
compose Megillat Eicha—the Book of Lamentations. Either way, same message: the
end was neigh.
A short time later a public fast day was
called. This was the opportunity they’d been waiting for. Barukh brought the sefer
to Yerushalayim and, in the chamber of Gemaryahu the son of Shafan (the Sofer
from the previous story), by the entrance to the Temple, he began to publically
read the words of Yirmiyahu.
Word got out. The king’s men heard about
Barukh’s provocations. They called upon
him to bring the scroll. They were deeply frightened and informed him that they
would bring a report back to the king. After verifying the authenticity of the
scroll with Barukh they put it away for safekeeping and sent Barukh away to
safety.
They brought the report to the king and
he bid them to bring it so he could hear for himself.
It was Kislev—the middle of the winter—and the king was
sitting in his winter-house, a fire burning in the fireplace. As he warmed
himself by the flame Yehudi (that’s the name of one of his men) arrived with
the scroll.
After Yehudi read a few verses, the king took a scribe's knife
and tore out the offending words and threw them onto the fire. He read a few
more verses and repeated the same horrific act over and over until the entire
roll was nothing more than ash.
No one, we are told, tore their garments in response.
The king commanded his men to arrest Baruch the scribe
and Yirmiyahu the prophet, but Hashem had hidden them.
Yoshiyahu tore his garments
upon hearing the words of the Sefer haTorah. Yehoyakim tore the scroll of Yirimiyahu,
one paragraph at a time. Yoshiyahu sought out Hashem. Yehoyakim tried to take
Yirmiyahu and Barukh prisoner. Yoshiyahu was moved by the Word of Hashem to
transform his kingdom. Yehoyakim set Hashem’s Word to flame.[1]
As I mentioned before, the Chakhamim said
that the scroll was, in fact, the book of Eicha/Lamentations—Yirmiyahu’s
heartbreaking dirge on the destruction of the Temple and the kingdom of Judah. The
Chakhamim tell the following elaboration of our story in the Gemara, Mo’ed
Katan, 26a:
They said to Yehoyakim: Yirmiyahu has
written a book of Lamentations!
He said to them: What is written in
it?
They read the first verse: “Oh,
How the city sits solitary” (Lamentations 1:1).
He said: I am king.
They read the second verse: “Weeps, she
weeps in the night” (Lamentations 1:2).
He said: I am king.
They read the third verse: “Judah
is gone into exile due to affliction” (Lamentations 1:3).
He said: I am king.
They read the fourth verse: “The
ways of Zion do mourn” (Lamentations 1:4).
He said: I am king.
They read the next verse: “Her
adversaries have become the chief”(Lamentations 1:5), (meaning, the
king will be removed from power)
Once he heard this, he said
to them: Who said this?
They said to him (from the next
pasuk): “For Hashem has afflicted her for the multitude of her
transgressions” (Lamentations 1:5).
Yehoyakim could not stand to have his power challenged—he was
the king! He could not bear the imposition of the Word of Hashem. He could not
let it upset the illusion of his unimpeachable power.
In contrast, Yoshiyahu was open to critique—he did not suffer
from a delusion of grandeur. He humbled himself before the Word of Hashem and
utterly abandoned his old lifestyle and fully embraced the unsettling truth
that all of his decisions up until that point had been a horrible mistake.
I believe there is a deep connection between one’s
receptivity to the Word of Hashem and one’s receptivity to others. The
Prophetic Word disrupts and shatters one’s previously held conceptions. The one
who thinks he is king cannot accept any disruption to his comfort—neither from
Hashem nor from another man. One must discomfort oneself to accommodate the
other—to be hospitable, to place another’s needs and wants before your own. And
this is the key: to be hospitable to another human is the ultimate sign of
the readiness of one’s heart to be hospitable/to welcome the Word of Hashem—and,
vice-versa: to welcome the Word of Hashem is to welcome the other.
This should not come as a surprise—this is Avraham, the man
whose absolute devotion to G-d came in tandem with his devotion to his fellow
man. As Hashem says before revealing his plan to destroy Sedom: “I know
him—such that he will command his children after him to keep the way of
Hashem—to do tzedaka/righteousness and mishpat/justice.” As Yishayahu said, “צִיּוֹן בְּמִשְׁפָּט
תִּפָּדֶה וְשָׁבֶיהָ בִּצְדָקָה”—“Zion
shall be redeemed with justice—and they that shall return with righteousness.” (Yishayahu
1:27)
This was also Shmully. He had an unparalleled receptivity to the
Word of Hashem and to people. His genius was in his hospitality—his ability to
welcome in the other and the ultimate Other. He was a true student of Avraham.
May his memory be a blessing to us all.
[1]
The first place I encountered the comparison of these two stories is a brief
paragraph in Lau, Binyamin. Jeremiah: the Fate of a Prophet. Maggid
Books, 2013. p. 113.
[2]
Translation adapted from the The William Davidson digital edition of the Koren
Noé Talmud, with commentary by Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz Even-Israel.
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