The Short Vort by Rabbi Eisenman

The Short Vort

Good Morning!

Today is Wednesday, the 24^th of Tishrei 5783,

 and October 19, 2022

Baruch and the Lulav

I made time to visit Baruch on Chol HaMoed.

Although this time of the year is a rav's ultra-busy season, I knew I had to come.

Preparing diverse Droshos with the added pressure of ensuring that everyone in Shul is happy and content is daunting.

Yet, I love my Kehilla and would never trade what I do for anything.

The contentment felt from hearing the heartfelt words: "Rabbi, it was worth coming to Shul to hear the Drosha" far outweighs the stress and frenetic pace of being a Rav.

I am blessed with the world's most beloved and loving congregants.

Therefore, when someone is hospitalized, I know my priority is to be with them.

As I arrived bedside, Baruch was agitated.

His discomfort stemmed not from his ailment but from his emotional displeasure.

Baruch launched into a tirade about people not doing Bikur Cholim properly.

I assumed he must be disappointed about the lack of visitors and felt lonely.

However, I quickly realized he was not railing about those who did not come; rather, his ire was directed toward those who did come!

"Why can't they call me before they drop by? Or at least ask my wife?

Yesterday, I finally fell asleep after tossing and turning all night, and then Yossi showed up and wanted to learn the Daf with me!

I love Yossi, and I love the Daf.

However, I need my rest.

I understand that not everyone can coordinate their visits exactly when it's good for me.

However, when Yossi arrived, he rhetorically asked, "Do you want to hear my Chiddush from today's Daf? "

Without waiting for my answer, he began a twenty-minute discourse with every knaitch and nuance on the Daf.

Rabbi, I can barely focus on which medicines I must take; how can I follow a twenty-minute monologue on Kesuvos?

Another fellow who arrived stated proudly, "Baruch, you really missed an amazing Mussaf on the first day of Yom Tov?" How is that supposed to uplift my spirits when I have no idea if and when I will ever return to Shul? Do you think it makes me feel good to know I missed a great davening?

 Rabbi, this Succos, I have become the Lulav!"

I was baffled by what Baruch meant and wondered if perhaps the medications were clouding his mind.

He must have noticed my confused facial expression as he quickly explained.

"Rabbi, on Succos, everyone wakes up in the morning and grabs their Lulav. No one asks the Lulav if it slept enough or is ready to be picked up. Rather, we pick up our "Mitzvah-object" and give it a nice shuckle.

The rationale is simple. "I need it to perform my Mitzvah, and it's time to shake my Lulav. I have no concerns about the Lulav's feelings! I must do my Mitzvah!"

Rabbi, that's me now!

People come in.

They don't ask if I am up to talking.

They don't ask me if I need to sleep.

Rather, they chap me and give me a good shuckle.

I have ceased being human; I have become a Mitzvah-object on which they perform their Mitzvah of Bikur Cholim.

Rabbi, I don't want to be a Lulav, I am a human being, and I ask to be treated with the dignity of a Tzelem Elokim!"

I looked at Baruch, held his hand gently, and said, "Baruch, Thank you."

"For what?" he asked, confused.

"Baruch, I have learned many Sefarim and heard many Shiurim.

 However, you taught me more about the Mitzvah of Bikur Cholim than any Mussar Schmooze ever did, and for that, I thank you.

Baruch raised his head and smiled.

His smile made me realize that as much as I thought I was doing for Baruch, he was doing much more for me.