Many people have asked me if I see a change in the spirituality of this generation. I have heard some express disappointment, saying that ‘doing kiruv today has become much more difficult.’ The feeling is that people, especially on college campuses or newly graduated young adults, are more interested in fortune and fame than finding their Jewish roots. And even in the frum world, it is more about the allure of music, food or drink than the shiur.
These comments can cast a shadow on our hopes and visions. Why bother trying to reach out if it is so hard? Indifference can be more dangerous than ignorance.
It is with these thoughts in mind that I’d like to share with you, dear readers, a story that touched my soul. And to relay to you that, indeed, the pintelah Yid is indeed alive and burning bright. We must only seek it, reignite the spark, and watch the flame turn into a great fire of inspiration.
After a talk that I gave (pre-Covid), a woman approached me and described how bewildering it was to watch her college-aged son grow in his quest for Judaism. Growing up in a completely secular background, he was now wearing a kippah, tzitzis, keeping kosher and Shabbos. The final straw was his desire to study Torah in Israel.
“You will see that this son of yours will become your greatest source of nachas. He will bring you incredible joy.” I responded.
She looked at me with a disbelieving smile and laughed.
“One more thing,” I added. “My son and daughter-in-law live in Israel. I will connect them with your son and this way he will have a good place to go for Shabbos.”
I took his contact information and made the connection. When I spoke to this young man I told him that we are now his mishpacha as well. And that he must know that he is not alone on this journey.
Throughout the pandemic, he stayed in Eretz Yisrael, studying, learning and growing stronger in his Yiddishkeit. He shared many beautiful Shabbosim with my children and their community, and the bond between them all grew stronger. As he shared his story over Shabbos delicacies, all admitted that it was they who were gaining and receiving. To witness the climbing of a mountain in order to embrace mitzvos, to see the sweat and struggles, to hear about the hurdles and obstacles is in itself, a powerful surge of inspiration. When you are born into a life of Torah and mitzvos, it is easy to take the life you lead for granted. But when you must fight for your soul, you discover the meaning of living life with passion.
Pesach meant that this young man finally came home to see his family after an extended absence due to Covid.
“We are mishpacha,” I said. “Welcome home! We’d love to have you join us for Shabbos.”
As our Shabbos lights were dancing, not only did this young man join us, but so too, did his family.
And now his mother had a new question.
“My son says he would like me to daven for his shidduch. He tells me that the prayers of a mother for her child are most powerful. But I don’t know how to pray?”
“Bubelah,” I said, “Do you ever say oy, G-d, please help me!”
“Definitely.”
“Okay,” I responded. “You know how to pray. Talk to Hashem. Unload your burdens, your wishes, your hopes, and your pain. Express your gratitude too. Speak to G-d. That’s called prayer.”
She smiled and we embraced.
Last week, I was on a Zoom that took my breath away. A kallah circling her chosson, her veil billowing in the soft winds of Yerushalayim. Behind them stood the Kotel. Silent but shedding a million tears as its holy stones remained steadfast, bearing testimony to the miracle of Am Yisrael. The sun began to set. Majestic hues filled the sky. As the words of “Im eshkachech Yirushalayim” rose in the air, bride, groom and their families turned to face the Wall.
After thousands of years, Your children have come home.
Am Yisrael Chai.
