My Story 14

It has been said that one who remarries after a divorce is putting hope before experience. I am certainly glad that I didn't heed that advice. I began looking for the right person to marry shortly after my divorce. It was more difficult than the first time around, as marrying a divorced person is seen as risky. Way back, when I was in Bnei Akiva, a young man invited me to spend Shabbat at his home. He had a seven-year-old kid sister, who announced that she would marry me someday. I was fourteen, and everyone had a good laugh about this. Well, I never married her. But when she had grown up, she married a man who was part of the Rabbi Avigdor Miller community in Flatbush, Brooklyn. It was a Yeshivish community, but dedicated to spreading Torah to all Jews. One Shabbat, Sima was a guest in her home. Sima had only recently become observant. She was always a great communicator, as well as being extremely personable. My friend's sister said to her: "Hey, you like to talk a lot. I know a "boy" who likes to talk a lot. Wanna meet him?" And so it happened. On our first date, she wanted to hear what it meant that I was a Breslover (almost unknown in the U.S. at that time). We spent several hours over a kosher Chinese dinner discussing our beliefs. We were both enthralled by the end of the evening. She liked what I had to say, as well as how I said it. I was extremely impressed by her penetrating questions, and her thoughtful responses. She would later tell me that I was the first person who had ever asked her for her opinions, and took them seriously. (This is a very sad commentary on our society).We were both "sold" after the first date. However, I presented her with a copy of Tikkun HaKlali; Rabbi Nachman's "general remedy" for all sins, consisting of ten psalms. Unfortunately, that particular edition said on the cover "to repair a nocturnal seminal emission". She showed the booklet to a rabbi she knew in that community, who immediately concluded that I wasn't normal, and to be very careful. Everyone she knew, friends and family, were opposed to our relationship. (No one thought to ask me about why I had given her a Tikkun Haklali). We became engaged after three weeks. My friends and family were thrilled, but her's were in mourning. Up until an hour before the wedding, people were trying to dissuade her. A divorced man? A member of an unknown cult? This will not work! Sima cried to me on our wedding day "I don't feel like a kallah!" (bride). But we got married despite the protests. It may be too soon to make long term predictions, but, if the last forty five years are any indication, we both think it will work. Sima was thrilled with the changes in her life. She not only had a loving husband, but, as a rebbetzin, she was meeting new people, who loved her immediately. I had right away seen her immense kindness, empathy, sensitivity, besides her inner and outer beauty. How sad that in all her twenty-five years, she had never gotten that message, not even from her parents, who doted on her older brother.. We began a long honeymoon, which is still in progress. We did, however, come dangerously close to a break up. As soon as she accepted my proposal, I suggested that we tell each other all of our darkest secrets, to see if we still wanted to go through with it. She told me, with some trepidation, that she may never be able to have children. At the age of fourteen, she developed a very bad case of acne. She was treated with massive doses of steroids and antibiotics, which did nothing for the condition (honestly, I hadn't noticed), but did eliminate her menstrual cycle. I said "let's get married. Whatever G-d wants, He"ll do." A few months after we were married, Sima's maternal instincts began to kick in. She went to see New York's top fertility expert. His diagnosis was devastating. "Your hormones are totally off. There is no chance of you having a child. However, there is a new experimental hormone treatment. You, if you wish, can be in the study. But be warned, the chances of dying are greater than the chance of becoming pregnant". (These treatments are now perfected and are routine). Sima told me she wanted to take the risk. I refused. But every time one of our friends had a baby, she would fall into a deep depression. "Jeffrey, I love you, and I realize that this isn't your "fault". I realize this isn't rational, but either let me join the experimental study, or I want a divorce. I just can't stay married knowing that I will never have kids". I could hardly believe what I was hearing. But on some level, I had to respect that feeling. I had a suggestion. I had heard of a little-known Tzaddik in Jerusalem, named Rabbi Eliyahu Chaim Rosen. I would take vacation. We would go to Israel, and consult with him about the treatments. Sima agreed. We flew to Israel, praying at many holy places. We finally went to Reb Eliyahu Chaim, coming to his modest, run-down apartment in the marketplace of Meah Shearim. We told him our story. ""Chas VeShalom! (G-d forbid). the doctors are murderers! Besides, you don't need it! You will have children! Rabbi Nachman said "Prayer, the Land of Israel, and Miracles are one level". You've been to the Land of Israel, you've prayed. Now will be the miracle". He did advise us to read together the stories of Rabbi Nachman. (Rabbi Nachman had said "The world says that you don't get pregnant from stories. From mine you do.") Exactly two weeks later, Sima got a normal period, for the first time in a decade. It happened again a month later, and then stopped. Then she began to feel sick. Our son, Nachman, was born nine months afterwards. At the delivery, the obstetrician handed the baby to the nurse to be weighed. The doctor said: "If you want to call it a miracle, I will agree with that. But miracles are one in a million. Don't even dream that you will have more children." At that moment, the nurse said "Weight...six thirteen" (Six pounds, thirteen ounces. But 613 is the number of commandments). We both began to laugh. The doctor asked the reason for our laughter. When I explained the reason, he said "You"ll soon have me believing this stuff!" We went on to have six more miracle babies. Each was conceived while still nursing the previous child. The subject of divorce never came up again, and our marriage was, Baruch HaShem, on solid ground.

My Story 13

Before I discuss my relationship with Sima, I'd like to give my thoughts about women in general, as well as male-female interactions. These ideas are purely mine, but are rooted not only in personal experience, but even more in how I understand Torah and Kabbalah. Nevertheless, many will study these same sources, but come out with different conclusions. Although Western culture is a vast improvement over most others when it comes to women, it is still far from ideal. When I was in elementary school, there was a "cute" song we were taught to sing, with the boys taking one part, and the girls the other. The male is asking the female to marry him, offering her all kinds of gifts; "I'll give to you a dress of red, stitched all around with golden thread, if you will marry me". His offer is repeatedly refused, until he offers her all of his money. At that point, she agrees to his proposal. He then says "Ha, ha, ha, the money is all, a woman's love is nothing at all, now I won't marry you". I have often thought about what message my schoolmates were getting from that song. Even the sitcoms of that era usually had a plotting wife, successful at first in outsmarting her husband. At last she is found out, and humiliated. In some shows, like "I Love Lucy", she gets a spanking! When Women's Liberation came along in the late '60s, there were new messages. Women don't need men! Get a career, then you will be fulfilled. A woman walking down a street with children in tow was often accosted with shouts of "breeder!" Several pop songs of the time feature a man or woman telling the other "I Love You", and that ends the relationship! Women were struggling with the question if being female entailed extra warmth and sensitivity, or whether that had been foisted on them by a male dominated society. We just didn't know who we ourselves were, let alone the opposite gender. On the surface, the Torah seems to advocate a paternalistic relationship in the family. But let's look deeper. In the first chapter of Genesis, Man and Woman are created together. In the second chapter, Woman is created from Man's body. On a simple level, Chapter Two is simply going more into detail on the process of creation already spelled out in Chapter One. On another level, we are dealing with the awesome dance of male-female tension, and resolution of that tension. This is the Lilith legend. Chapter One is Adam and Lilith, not Eve. Lilith is independent and refuses to be subservient. Adam is not happy with her, and she runs off and becomes a demon. Eve is then created in Chapter Two, loving, subservient, and obedient. Lilith lies in wait to take revenge on Eve and her children. To this day, amulets with exhortations for Lilith to leave are often hung over the beds of new mothers and their babies. But wait. We read in Isaiah 34:14 "Wildcats will meet hyenas, the goat demon will call to his friends, and there Lilith will lurk and find her resting place.". Although many connect Lilith here not with the legend, but prefer to translate the word as "Owl", or "Night Demon", in kabbalistic literature it actually refers to Lilith. Man will eventually find joy and rest in a strong, independent mate, and they will find a new and better life together. This is also connected to the idea of "a woman of valor is the Crown of her husband" (Proverbs 12:4). Eventually, Man and Woman will not compete, but rather complete each other. In my experience, men can be divided into three categories when it comes to women. Category 1 is men who don't really like women. But they enjoy using...and abusing them for their own physical and emotional needs. Category 2 is men who like women, but can never understand them. They expect women to react like men, but at the same time be satisfied with a situation of relative powerlessness. One man I know, when I see him and ask him how he is, always answers "I don't understand why G-d created women". It's not like he DOESN'T like them, but is frustrated by their actions and emotions, like if one turns on the stove, and it acts like an air conditioner. Category 3 is men who not only like women, but love them enough to find out their needs, and try to fulfill those needs. When the "dance" has been mastered, each knows a joy that they could only have dreamed about before. It is the unity of G-d and the Shechinah; both reflecting, and causing, that unity. Sima says that I am a hopeless romantic. But that is how I see the sacred bond of Jewish marriage. At the same time, if that relationship is betrayed, suffering, guilt, and frustration result. At the moment of physical unity between husband and wife, the Kabbalah urges us to picture ourselves as various attributes of the Divine. The Messianic bliss is to be seen in those moments. Lilith finds repose, and Man finds his crown.

My Story 12

It took a long time for me to make sense of what had happened in my failed marriage. For many months, my home became almost a shrine to my first wife. I couldn't bear to remove the clothing she had left behind, or even wash the dish of the last meal she had eaten in my home. Our marriage had lasted from the end of May, 1976, until October. Both the get and the civil divorce took place in January, 1977. I was living alone in a large house in the country, across the road from a beautiful lake. But the beauty of my surroundings only seemed to put into bolder contrast the feeling that my life was, essentially over. I did have friends who supported me, but, for the most part, I was alone. My synagogue only had services on Shabbat, and most members lived elsewhere, and were only there for the summer. There was no one to talk to. About twenty minutes away, tucked away in a forest outside Mount Kisco, New York, was a tiny, mostly anonymous community, called the Yeshivah Farm Settlement. Their Yeshivah centered community followed the traditions of the town of Nitra in Hungary. They were not ideologically Hasidic, although they dressed that way. There was a Yiddish speaking Yeshivah, to which students came from all over the world, with a permanent community of about fifty families. I was to learn that there were many Hungarian communities, in a sort of satellite relationship with Satmar, that maintained a separate social and ideological identity. Although I had grown up in Williamsburg, the center of Satmar, until I was twelve, they were never more to me than "the refugees". Satmar has a very unsavory reputation for extremism. In some cases, this was not unjustified. But I found more the contrary to be true. Their rabbis were very learned, and gave little or no heed to the political opinions of official Orthodoxy. If it had a source, good. If the source was in the head of some "gadol" (all star rabbi), it would be examined, and, if found to be baseless, would be ignored. They were not afraid to challenge the Sacred Cows of the rest of the Orthodox community, and had little respect for the supposed "gedolim" of the "mainstream". While very careful to maintain their Hungarian traditions, they knew the difference between those and halachah. The long-time Rabbi of Satmar, Rav Joel Teitlebaum, had stressed to his followers above all, the obligation of loving kindness. Commenting on the statement in Ethics of the Fathers, that the world stands of three pillars; Torah, Divine Service, and acts of loving kindness, he boldly said: "The age of Torah scholarship is long gone. (This has become increasingly evident to me over the years). The age of fervent prayer took its place, but has now ended. All we have left is kindness". I was to experience this kindness on a number of occasions. I would go weekly to Nitra, to shop at their kosher grocery, and to immerse in their mikveh before Shabbat (once my local lake became too cold). People noticed my presence. One man said "whenever you come here, please stop by at my house". He and his wife would send me home with Shabbat food in abundance! It's not that I was poor, but I was alone. My culinary skills did not go far beyond boiling spaghetti. Here were homemade fish, chicken, fresh baked challah bread. Neighbors soon joined in, and gave of their own goodies. I had home cooked food for the entire week! They invited me to their special events, whether communal or private. They took me to meet their Grand Rabbi in Monroe, New York, on three occasions. They told me to come around whenever I was lonely. They became like family! It would be nearly a year until I was to meet and marry Sima. The wreckage from all the disasters and disappointments in my life, were now to be healed and rectified by this amazing woman. Not that there weren't disasters to come. But I was never alone again.That will be my next post.

My Story 9

One of my favorite movies is the 1970 hit, Little Big Man. It was very controversial, and set off several law suits. It was the first movie, to my knowledge, that told the story of the Old West from the point of view of the Native Americans. The film had moments of laughter, and moments of tears. It was about a white settler, whose family was wiped out by Pawnee Indians, but who was adopted by Cheyenne Indians. Throughout the movie, he goes back and forth between the White Man and the Red Man, with the White always coming out as morally inferior. Throughout the movie, there is the looming presence of General George Armstrong Custer. He is rarely on screen, but he is constantly causing bad things to happen. He so much wants to become President, he is happy to kill men, women and children in order to achieve that. At the beginning, he is a hero. As the movie progresses, we see that he is an egomaniac. He eventually has the hero's family killed. In return, the hero tricks him into the battle of the Little Big Horn, where Custer is killed. Custer goes from hero, to a mentally unstable man, to ultimate villain. He remains a great American hero, but we learn that the idol has clay feet.
In my life, my General Custer has been, and continues to be, "Rabbi" Shlomo Carlebach (1925-1994). Carlebach came from a long line of great German rabbis. He and his twin brother, Rabbi Eliyahu Chaim Carlebach, were born to their parents late in life. I had heard that they were born through a blessing of the previous Lubavitcher Rebbe. I once asked their mother about this, who replied "Ach! We went to many Rebbes". Both brothers were educated in the prestigious, but very anti-Hasidic, Lakewood Yeshiva. Both excelled in their studies. First Eliyahu Chaim became drawn to Hasidism. Later, his brother Shlomo followed suit. Shlomo put out his first album of original Hasidic songs in the mid 1950s. His career was encouraged by Bob Dylan and Pete Seeger. He began giving concerts, which were very well received. His music became a part of the liturgy of synagogues across the spectrum. You have undoubtedly heard his melodies, and just assumed that they are ancient Jewish songs. He began to attract a following of "groupies". Many Orthodox rabbis were scandalized by the fact that he held mixed-gender concerts, but some felt that this was fully justified, in order to bring young Jews back to their roots.  Moshe Feinstein, when questioned if it was not forbidden to listen to the songs of this "heretic", responded that he isn't a heretic, but merely overly lax in his observance. His music was to be considered "kosher". Carlebach would walk into a room. All would rush up to him for hugs and kisses. He would embrace all. calling them "holy brothers" and "holy sisters". I must admit, I was very taken by his charisma and dedication. I chalked up his laxity as being like one who is trying to rescue a drowning person. If he refuses because the drowning person is a scantily clad woman, the Talmud calls him a "Pious Fool" (Hasid Shoteh). Yes, as far as I was concerned, the man was a self-sacrificing saint. True, he was persona-non-grata in many communities. Even the Lubavitcher Rebbe had thrown him out. But he was SO COOL. Yes, rumors circulated that there was a dark side; a side of sexual abuse, but most people simply cried "lashon hara" and the reports were squelched... until after his death. I had seen him captivate an audience. I had seen him bring people who were distant from Judaism back by the thousands, often at great personal expense. But reports of abuse, some from girls as young as twelve, were trickling out. I chose not to believe these reports. (I never claimed to be smart). When I returned to New York to learn about Breslov, I was still single. Moreover, I was unemployed, albeit by choice, and no young woman would consider me for marriage. Then, on a Wednesday evening in March, 1976, a young woman came into a class on Breslov, at which I was also in attendance. My friends said "this one is for Jeff!" She had come from Boston to New York to learn about Rabbi Nachman. She was a follower of Shlomo Carlebach, who often quoted Rabbi Nachman. She appeared to be the woman of my dreams. She needed a ride after the class, and I offered her a lift. We wound up conversing for many hours into the night. She was knowledgeable. She was spiritual, She was prayerful. She seemed too good to be true. For the next several weeks, I chauffeured her around New York, taking her to classes and lectures. Three weeks later, we were engaged. Two weeks after that, we were married. Shlomo co-officiated at our wedding, together with one of the Breslov rabbis with whom I was studying. In the wedding pictures, one can see the Breslover rabbi wincing from pain at having to see and hear Carlebach. But I was ecstatic. All these rabbis just didn't understand...or so I thought. I was soon in for the trauma of my life.

My Story 8

My Shabbat with the Breslov community in Williamsburg was indeed a breath of fresh air. The entire day was spent in prayer, singing, Torah study. There was a spontaneity in their Jewishness that I had never known before. At the same time, I gathered from things said, that there were factional problems in Breslov. The next day, I visited a Hebrew book store and discovered that a Breslov classic, "Rabbi Nachman's Wisdom" had recently been translated into English. I saw that the translator was Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan; a little-known figure at that time. I had known him several years before, when I was working for Hillel. I had been the rabbi of the Ohio State Hillel, and he had been the rabbi of the Hillel at Hunter College in New York. We had met at a director's conference. We were both hired and fired about the same time. We were not the types Hillel was interested in. I gave him a call. He remembered me, and we had a wonderful conversation. I asked if he was Breslov. He replied "No, I see nothing to gain from declaring one's self to be a member of one group or another. All you are doing is closing yourself off from everyone else". He made it very clear, however, that he adored Rabbi Nachman, his books, as well as the books written by his followers. I told him about my experience in Williamsburg. He informed me that, in fact, there were five different Breslov factions in the New York City area, each consisting of about twenty-five people. There were clashes of ideologies, as well as personalities. I found out from him that my warm reception in Williamsburg was at least partially due to this dispute. There was a running debate between Breslovers as to whether these teachings were meant for all, or only for a small group. Some were printing books, and distributing them at street corners, either for free, or for a minimal price; usually five cents for a full-size hardcover book. These groups would even make cheap knock-off editions of books published by other factions. The Williamsburg group, on the other hand, believed that Rabbi Nachman's teachings were meant to be kept secret. If Rabbi Nachman wanted you, he would find you! My experiences with coming across two books, seemingly out of nowhere, seemed to prove their point. Rabbi Kaplan went on to describe the various groups, which he knew intimately. Some were composed of outwardly Hasidic, Yiddish-speaking people, who were either born into Breslov, or, more commonly, had come to it from other forms of Hasidism. These were loose confederations of like-minded people, who gathered together for inspiration and camaraderie. On the other hand, some groups were composed of people who were raised Modern Orthodox, escaping the superficiality of that approach. They were joined by baalei teshuvah, and converts. I was to learn that Breslov was the most convert-friendly of all Jewish groups. Rabbi Nachman considered converts to be essential to G-d's plan. However, these groups were led by strong personalities, who demanded complete loyalty. They were essentially Hasidic Rebbes in their own right. One of the groups was overwhelmingly female! Some dressed in Hasidic garb, others were clean-shaven, and wore American dress. Some were staunch supporters of Neturei Karta, the vehemently anti-Zionist faction in Israel. Some were Zionists. Rabbi Kaplan pointed out the benefits of diversity. He was not thrilled with the cult-like features of some of the groups, but believed that the leaders of these groups also had much to say, and should not be ignored. I gave notice at my Cincinnati synagogue and returned to New York to learn about Rabbi Nachman. His teachings were unlike anything I had learned before or since. In fact, everything else seemed almost trivial in comparison. I lived for the next year (1975-1976) with my parents. My four and a half years in Ohio became a wonderful memory. But I was headed now in a different direction. It would be another ten years until I met the man whom I now consider my teacher. More about him in another few posts. Only then was I able to tie together all the loose ends in Breslov. Right now, I was observing, absorbing, and trying to apply all the new and wonderful things I was learning, even while I was confused and disturbed by the factionalism. In a way, I was born in 1975. Like an infant, I was starting again from the beginning