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                              L'CHAIM                ISSUE No. 27
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5 Tishrei, 5749       Parshat Vayeilech        September 16, 1988
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          THE WEEKLY PUBLICATION FOR EVERY JEWISH PERSON
Dedicated to the memory of Rebbetzin Chaya Mushka Schneerson N.E.
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                           A DEFINITION

   Take a minute to think about how you define the word "mitzva"
(this might be reminiscent of a Sunday school class in days gone
by).  Time's up.  Did you come up with words like 'good deed," or
"commandment," or possibly law, ordinance, statute? Any or all of
these definitions are correct, yet incomplete.  A mitzva is all of
these things and more.  Because when you do a mitzva, you get
something out of it, too. You strengthen your bond with your
heritage.

   Mitzva is from the Hebrew word which means "join."  In addition
to the good feeling you get when visiting a sick friend, or giving
charity, or being intellectually stimulated by learning Torah, you
become "joined" with G-d and all the Jewish people when you do a
mitzva.

   Imagine a rope attached on each end to precious objects. Tension
is constantly being applied to the rope.  Naturally, one would want
the rope to be as strong as possible.  A rope made from two strands
is certainly stronger than one single strand. Three strands is even
sturdier.  And more strands, why, the more the merrier and more
durable.  By adding additional strands we fortify the connection.

   Each time we do a mitzva, we are adding a strand to the cord
that binds us to G-d, the Jewish people, and Torah.  And when we
find ourselves walking a "tightrope," trying to keep our lives in
balance, it is reassuring to know that this Important cable is
strong.

   In this High Holiday season, we can participate in so many
beautiful and invigorating *mitzvot*.  We can build, decorate and
eat in a Succa, wave the *lulav* and *etrog*, dance on Simchat
Torah.  And while we're having such a good time, we will also be
strengthening our commitment to our Jewish lives.

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                       LIVING WITH THE TIMES
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                     THE WEEKLY TORAH PORTION
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   In this week's portion, Vayeilech, the Torah outlines the
precept of *Hakhel*, gathering the people of Israel once every
seven years in an assembly highlighted by a special Torah-reading
by the King himself.  Our Sages describe the scene in Jerusalem
on the day of *Hakhel*:  On that day *Kohanim* [priests] stood in
the enclosed areas and in the open spaces with golden trumpets in
their hands.  They blew a long blast, then a series of short
blasts, then again a long blast to call the people to the
Sanctuary. It was said of any *Kohain* who had no trumpet in his
hands, "it seems as though this fellow is not a *Kohain* at all!"

   Why were they required to help with gathering the people for the 
*Hakhel* assembly, including even such incidental preparations as 
blowing trumpets in the streets outside of the Sanctuary--and to
the extent that the very status of the *Kohain* was called into 
question if he did not participate in this duty? The service of the 
Kohanim in the Sanctuary can be expressed in spiritual terms as the 
duty of elevating, refining and spiritualizing the lowly and the 
mundane, and this was precisely the concept of Hakhel.  All the 
people gathered and came to the Holy Temple to hear the Torah 
reading by the King.  Even the people in the streets of Jerusalem, 
far outside of the Sanctuary, were influenced by the Kohanim to 
come to the Holy Temple in order to "learn and to fear G-d."

   Surrounded by the spiritual atmosphere of the Holy Temple, a
*Kohain* might erroneously fall into a sort of "complacent 
saintliness."  He might fail to see that, although he was 
constantly involved with "holy matters," the point of all this
sacred service was to elevate the lowly, the material, the mundane.
If a *Kohain* was not out in the streets, sounding the trumpet, if
he failed to see that gathering the simple folk for Hakhel was the
epitome of his duties, then, "it seems as though this fellow is not
a Kohain at all!"

   Mitzvot are eternally relevant, transcending time and place.
*Hakhel* applies today, even after the Hakhel year has passed.
Every Jew is called a *Kohain*, and each of us has the duty to go
out into the streets and "blow trumpets" to gather men, women and
children to learn and listen to G-d's Torah.

        Reprinted from "A Thought for the Week,"--Detroit.
         Adapted from the works of the Lubavitcher Rebbe.

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                           SLICE OF LIFE
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                        A MOTHER IN ISRAEL

   The sixth of Tishrei, this year coinciding with Saturday,
September 17, marks the *Yahrtzeit* of Rebbetzin Chana
Schneerson, mother of the present Lubavitcher Rebbe.

   Rebbetzin Chana was born on the 28th of Tevet, 1880 in 
Nikolayev, Russia.  She spent her youth receiving an incomparable
education in her father's home, R. Meir Shlomo Yanovsky, in Chief
Rabbi of Nikolayev. At the age of 19 she married Rabbi Levi
Yitzchok.

   Many stories are told of her dedication to Judaism. The
following is but one example.

                                ***

   Kazakhastan.  The name seared itself into the mind of Rebbetzin
Chana.

   She looked at the telegram in her hands, then at the shivering
girl from the post office who had brought it over, at one o'clock
in the morning.

   The news was incredible.  After ten months in Soviet prisons,
her husband, R. Levi Yitzchok Schneerson, had cabled to let her
know that he had been exiled to Kazakhastan.  He asked for a
*talit, tefilin*, and food.

   R. Levi Yitzchok had suffered in prison. Again and again he
had been tortured because he had taught Jews about G-d, because
he had learned with them the wisdom of the Torah because he had
shown them how to perform its holy commandments.

   The Russian police had tried to make him sign false papers,
so-called "confessions," but he had not given in. His courage
made the Russians furious.  He ate no food that was not kosher.
When the other prisoners were ready to give up, he encouraged
them to be strong, to live.

   Rebbetzin Chana hastened to join her husband in his exile in
Kazakhastan.  It would take five days by train until she arrived.
In her luggage she managed to bring along some matzot and wine
for the upcoming Passover holiday.

   At least in Kazakhstan, her husband would not be behind bars,
she thought.  But Kazakhstan was its own prison.  Swampy, infested
with buzzing, biting flies in summer, freezing in winter.  The
Rebbetzin followed her husband to their new home, a damp, doorless,
muddy room in the house of a poor Tatar couple.

   One day, R. Levi Yitzchok spoke to his wife of his wish to teach
Torah, but in Kazakhastan there was no one to teach. "There is not
even paper or ink to write down some ideas."

   Rebbetzin Chana suffered for him.  If only she could make ink!
Soon it would be night.  Quickly, she rose to go out to the fields
to gather dried grasses for their fire.  As she walked, she noticed
the wild flowers and leaves beneath her feet.

   Carefully, the Rebbetzin took them home.  Filled with hope she
ground them up, then soaked them in a little water, and waited.
The water changed colors.  Excitedly, she showed her husband.  Ink!
They had ink again!

   After five years in exile, R. Levi Yitzchok passed away.  When
the possibility arose for Rebbetzin Chana to leave Russia, she
thought of her husband's writings.  What would become of them?

   She could not leave them behind. Her husband had given his life
to teach Torah.  His whole being was in these sheets of paper,
written with ink that she herself had made.

   For years, Jews had not been allowed out of Russia.  Books or
papers were certainly out of the question.  Yet, somehow, when
Rebbetzin Chana faced the border guards, no questions were asked.
R. Levi Yitzchok's Torah had come out of exile at last.

               Reprinted from "The Moshiach Times,"
                 a publication of "Tzivos Hashem."

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                            WHAT'S NEW?
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                 WEST POINT CADETS VISIT LUBAVITCH

   A group of 75 West Point cadets visited the Lubavitch community
in Crown Heights on the Shabbat of August 26.  The cadets attended
Shabbat services Friday evening, went on a walking tour of Crown
Heights, and participated in a question-and answer period.  The
Cultural Society of West Point organized the event together with
Lubavitch Youth.

                     ROSH HASHANA BEHIND BARS

   Lubavitcher Rabbinical students and young couples visited
prisons throughout New York state for the holiday of Rosh
Hashana.  When possible, arrangements were made for the
volunteers to stay near the correctional facilities, leading
the holiday services, blowing the shofar and presiding over
holiday meals.  If such arrangements were not possible, the young
people visited the prisons before the holiday, gave classes and
distributed informative brochures.

               KAPPAROT--ATONEMENT YOM KIPPUR STYLE

   On the morning of the day before Yom Kippur, we arise early for
*kapparot*, literally "atonements."  We carefully circle chicken
above our head as we say a prayer asking for forgiveness, and
entreating that the chicken serve as a proxy for any punishment we
might be deserving of.  The chicken or its value is then given to
the poor.

   If you would like to participate in kapparot, contact the
National Committee for the Furtherance of Jewish Education at
(718) 735-0200.  They will have kappara set up at various
locations throughout metropolitan New York.

                        SUCCOT IN THE CITY

   Huge Succot, temporary festival booths will be constructed in
six locations throughout New York City.  These Succot, a project of
Lubavitch Youth Organization, are set up to help people working in
Manhattan be able to observe the mitzva of eating in a Succa during
the holiday.  The Succot are located at Herald Square, the Isaiah
Wall, Battery Park, Police Plaza, the Supreme Court in Brooklyn,
Queens Blvd. and 70th Rd.

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                             INSIGHTS
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                            KOL NIDREI

   Kol Nidrei, the prayer which ushers in the holy day of Yom
Kippur, is perhaps the most famous one in our liturgy.  Ironically,
it is not really a prayer at all, but rather a statement.

   Kol Nidrei deals with promises, vows, and other sorts of verbal
commitments commonly made in the course of the year.  The Torah
places strict demands on keeping one's word, and not fulfilling a
vow is considered a serious misdeed.

   "Kol Nidrei," which means "all vows," nullifies the binding
nature of such promises in advance.  One declares all future vows
and promises invalid, and, as if to make absolutely sure, the
vows are, "absolved, remitted, cancelled, declared null and void,
not in force or in effect."

   At first glance, this seems to have had more meaning in the
original Aramaic, before we knew what it meant.  At least the
tune is inspiring.

   Is this the way to utilize the most solemn moment in the Jewish
calendar--to make a statement of such a legalistic nature? The
content of the statement is even more puzzling.  It seems to create
a broad loophole designed to enable one to squeeze out of keeping
one's word.  Obviously, there must be more to it.

                        PREVENTIVE MEDICINE

   Why do we say Kol Nidrei?  Our Sages say that people are often
careless about making vows and promises.  The person might not
realize how serious it is to not fulfill a vow; and, although the
promise was meant sincerely, afterwards it is forgotten.  On
another occasion, the person might have been insincere and never
really intended to keep his word in the first place.  Perhaps the
promise was made in response to external pressures or because he
thought his statement would make someone happy.

   Our Sages knew that we occasionally fall prey to insincerity,
frivolous judgment, the desire to conform, and a host of other
personality flaws.  Kol Nidrei comes to protect us from the natural
consequences of these weak spots in our personalities. Knowing that
we are often on the brink of doing something wrong, we invalidate
the action beforehand.  This seems to present a rather bleak view
of our ability to be holy. Here we are, on the threshold of the Day
of Atonements resolved and committed to improve; yet we say from
the outset that we will probably be doing things wrong!  However,
this enigma contains the key to the Torah's view of personal good
and evil.

                          ESSENTIAL GOOD

   There is a natural tension between the desire to be perfect and
the obvious imperfection of man. Various approaches have been used
to reconcile the two.

   Some schools of thought view man as a lost cause.  They claim
that man is condemned to "original sin," and will never be able to
control his natural impulses.  Therefore, they claim, the only way
to reach perfection is to withdraw from the world. Striving for
perfection is left to the select few, while the masses are
abandoned to muddle around in a quagmire of ignorance and lust.

   Another point of view, using the bewildering smudge of
relativism, denies the very existence of good and evil.  It
claims that these concepts exist purely in the eyes of the
beholder, i.e., of society. As a result, man is always perfect,
since he defines perfection as whatever situation he is presently
occupying.

   The Torah's view differs from both of the above.  It views the
individual as inherently good, and holy down to the very core.
This perfection, however, lies in the soul within, and does not
always affect the way we act.  Although our actions are important,
any imperfections do not reflect upon the essence--the soul.

   The Torah stresses that the soul has the power to permeate all
realms of behavior with perfection.  Yet the Torah also recognizes
that the battle is an arduous one, fraught with tests and
difficulties.

   On Yom Kippur, when the soul is fully revealed, we express our
real attitude towards the imperfections which might slip into our
behavior--in this case, our speech--in the coming year.  They are
denied and declared insignificant:  "cancelled, declared null and
void, not in force or in effect."

   In Kol Nidrei, we say it the way it is, the way every Jew is in
essence--his essence is holy. Anything unholy is null and
insignificant.

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                         WHAT'S IN A NAME?
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BINYAMIN means "son of my right hand," connoting strength.
Binyamin was the youngest of Yaacov's twelve sons (Genesis
35:18).  His mother, Rachel, died right after giving birth to
him.

BAlYA means "daughter of G-d."  Batya was King Pharaoh's
daughter, the woman who saved Moshe from imminent death and
mothered him.  She was so great that, our Sages say, she went
straight to Heaven without dying.

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                     A WORD FROM THE DIRECTOR
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   We just completed the year 5748, whose equivalent Hebrew letters
spell out the word *Tismach*--rejoice."  The letters for the new
year we have just begun also form a significant word in
Hebrew--*Tashmet*.

   The word "*Tashmet*" is used in the Torah in connection with the
seventh, Sabbatical [*Shmita*] year.  One of the most significant
aspects of this special year was that we were commanded to "let
pagan--*tashmet*" all debts owed to us.

   As we recall this beautiful commandment, we are reminded that
G-d only requires of us those mitzvot which He, Himself fulfills.
G-d, undoubtedly, also lets pass our debts to him during the
*Shmita* year.

   In this year of Tashmet, we should, therefore, turn to G-d and
say "This year, You G-d, should let pass anything which is owing in
our service."

   G-d will certainly listen to our heartfelt plea and in this
manner we will all be found to have only good deeds on our side
of the scale.  Then, we will merit to see the coming of Moshiach,
NOW, and we will all celebrate the holiday of Yom Kippur together
in the Bais HaMikdosh in the holy city of Jerusalem.

   A *Gmar Chasima tov* to all of us.

                                              Rabbi Shmuel Butman

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                         IT HAPPENED ONCE
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   In a small town in Poland, the honor of reading the story of
Jonah on Yom Kippur was accorded to the poor wood chopper Berel,
who sat in the back row of the shul and hardly every opened his
mouth.  But on Yom Kippur this timid man brushed past everyone
else, went straight up to the reading table, and in a strong firm
voice, pronounced every word dearly and slowly.  Then he returned
to his corner of the shul, never to be heard or seen again until
the following Yom Kippur.

   It all started years before, two days after Rosh Hashana. Beret
was sitting on a tree trunk, thinking of how deeply ashamed he felt
of his poverty.  The honors in the shul were always "sold," a
custom instituted to help raise funds for the shul.  He could never
afford to even consider bidding.

   Not that Berel felt sorry for himself.  He knew that G-d gives
every person his proper lot.  Yet, on the High Holidays, Berel felt
there should be equality among rich and poor.  For then, every Jew,
regardless of his wealth, stands before G-d, "naked and wanting
everything."

   "Why so sad, my good friend?" a pleasant voice interrupted
Berel's pondering.  Beret looked up and saw an old man standing
before him.  "It surely must be something serious that troubles
you, my friend. Don't you know that all worries and anxiety come
to naught before G-d?"

   "I am just trying to understand why Divine Justice permits
certain things to happen."  Berel told the old man what was
troubling him.

   "My friend," said the wise old man, "perhaps the small joys of
your hard life are bigger, and mean more, than all the honors and
treasures which the wealthy can buy with their money."

   On the Shabbat before Yom Kippur, a maggid--a preacher who comes
to stir the conscience of the community--had come to Gzybow.

   Berel was pleasantly surprised to find that this guest maggid
was none other than the wise, old rabbi who had consoled him in the
forest.  He was even more proud when the old man walked up to him
and greeted him with a friendly smile.

   Speaking like a father to his children, the maggid entreated
his listeners to open their hearts and souls to thoughts of
penitence.  He did everything he could to bring home this lesson
to the Jews of Gybow.

   And then, in the midst of his talk, he asked, "Do you want
to know whether your hearts are truly sincere?  Search yourselves
and see whether you can stand this test.  Tell me to whom do you
accord all the honors on the High Holidays?  Do you take
advantage of this last opportunity to turn the tide and to break
through to the Divine sea of mercy?  Would you ever think of
giving Maftir Jonah to the poor man there in the last seat of the
last bench of your shul?"  And with these words the maggid
pointed straight at Berel the wood chopper.

   And ever since the speech of that great maggid, Maftir Jonah was 
the exclusive right of Berel the wood chopper. Everyone in the 
crowded shul felt the holiness of the moment when he stepped up to 
recite the moving tale of the sincere return and salvation of the 
mighty city of Nineveh.

                From "The Jewish Youth Companion."

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                        THOUGHTS THAT COUNT
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"And Moses spoke in the ears of all the assembly the words of
this song, until they were finished" (Deuteronomy 31:30).

   One time when Rabbi Bunim of P'shischa went to visit his Rebbe,
the Rebbe told him to chose any verse from the Torah which he would
then interpret.  Rabbi Bunim chose the above verse. His Rebbe just
repeated the words:  "Until they were finished."

   Rabbi Bunim very impressed with these words and rejoiced. Rabbi
Chanoch Henoch of Alexander heard the conversation and asked R.
Bunim what the Rebbe's interpretation meant.

   Said Rabbi Bunim, "You are a scholar, figure out for what the
Rebbe meant."  Rabbi Chanoch Henoch answered: It seems that the
Rebbe's intention was that if the words "they were finished"--
*tumam*--were describing the song, it should have said, "it was
finished"--*tuma*.  Therefore, the interpretation must be that
Moses went and said the words of the song over and over again to
all the people until the people became whole and *t'mimim*--pure.

   "You understood correctly," said R. Bunim. (Sippurei Chasidim)

                                ***

"Now therefore write for yourself this song, and teach it to the
children Or Israel" (31:19).

   From this verse we learn of the very last mitzva in the Torah,
the mitzva for every Jew to write a Torah scroll for himself.  The
purpose of this mitzva is that every Jew should have on hand a
Torah room which to study. (Sefer Hachinuch)

   One way to fulfill this commandment is to buy a share in a
communal Torah scroll, thereby taking part in this mitzva.

   To buy a letter in a communal Torah scroll call Beth Rivkah
Schools at (718) 735-0400.

                                ***

"Hakhel--Assemble the people together--men, women and children"
(31:12).

   Why were the parents required to bring even the little children
who were not yet able to learn or listen to hear the King read the
Torah? To reward those who brought them.  (Chagiga 3)

   The *Anat Yosef* explains that this shows G-d's great love for 
the Jewish people.  Parents would anyway bring their children to 
the Hakhel gathering in the Holy Temple so as not to leave them at 
home alone.  G-d made the necessity a mitzva thereby presenting a 
sure opportunity for reward.

   In addition, this mitzva demonstrates that a child's Jewish
education begins long before his formal schooling commences.

   Even a child who does not yet understand clearly could be
profoundly and positively affected by such a gathering.
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