Kiddush Levanah: Under the Light of the Silvery Moon (Part 17)
“My walk on the moon lasted three days. My walk with
(Charles Duke – Lunar Module Pilot, Apollo 16)
Kiddush Levanah then continues with a verse from Shir HaShirim (8:5): “How worthy she is who rises from the desert, clinging to her Beloved!”
One of the indispensable commentaries on Nach (an acronym for Nevi’im – Prophets, and Ketuvim – Writings) is that of Rabbi David Altschuler (1687-1769). One of the greatest scholars of his generation, when he was younger he served as a judge on the Beit Din in Yavoriv in Galicia, and later on as the Chief Rabbi of Prague. He authored a commentary on nearly the entirety of Nach because he felt that Torah study had weakened over the generations and attributed it, in part, to the lack of a clear commentary for people lacking an in-depth background in Talmudic studies. He titled his classic work “Metzudat David,” which was subsequently split up into two separate works by his son Rabbi Yechiel Hillel. The first part, “Metzudat David,” explains the verses as a whole. The second part, “Metzudat Tzion,” explains individual words and phrases within the verses.
According to Rabbi Altschuler, our verse profoundly describes the Jewish People’s indescribable yearning to greet the Shechinah. The “she” in the verse is a reference to the Jewish nation. The “Beloved” is Hashem. The Jewish People are trying to “remind” Hashem of how loyal they were in the past. How they followed Hashem into the desert, relying solely on Hashem alone. And, although externally it may seem as if we are not as loyal to Hashem as we once were, it is not true. We know that we belong to Hashem now, and that we will always belong to Him.
Rabbi Yitzchak Zilber (1917-2004) was born in Kazan, Russia, just before the Bolshevik revolution. Already as a young teenager, he was clandestinely teaching Torah to all those who were prepared to risk being caught and put on trial for the “heinous crime” of attending his shiurim in the “Communist Paradise.” Unsurprisingly, someone informed the authorities, and he was arrested. At his “trial,” he was sentenced to hard labor in one of the desolate work camps that were found mainly in the most inhospitable parts of the communist Soviet Union. Despite the bleakness of his reality and the seeming lack of hope, Rabbi Zilber never stopped believing that Hashem was with him at all times. Through sheer tenacity, he managed to keep Shabbat and he ate only kosher food during his imprisonment.
Many years later, in 1992, after he had lived in Israel for twenty years, he was visiting Yeshivat Torat Moshe in Moscow for Pesach. During his stay, he related an astonishing story. One of the leading Communist officials where Rabbi Zilber was incarcerated was a Jew named Vishinev. Just like most Jews who had abandoned their Judaism for the “god of communism,” he could not stand the fact that Rabbi Zilber still clung onto his “old fashioned” beliefs. Vishinev had fine-tuned the art of making Rabbi Zilber’s life as miserable as possible. As Rosh Hashanah approached, Rabbi Zilber was focused on making a Minyan with the other Jewish inmates. Rabbi Zilber knew the Rosh Hashanah prayers by heart but he was determined to find at least one machzor (Rosh Hashanah prayer book) for the others to use. After unsuccessfully exhausting all the other options, he was left with no alternative but to turn to Vishinev to see if he would agree to supply them with a machzor. And, completely out of character, Vishinev agreed, and just before Rosh Hashanah he presented Rabbi Zilber with a machzor.
Rabbi Zilber’s motive for telling this to the students in the Yeshiva was to engrave on their hearts that nothing – not even the most committed communist – can stand in the way of a person’s spiritual desires and aspirations.
As he came to the end of his narrative, an extraordinary thing happened. One of the students jumped to his feet and announced, “I am a grandchild of Vishinev! My father told me how my grandfather used to relate that there was a fellow called Zilber in the labor camp, and how he had brought him a machzor for Rosh Hashanah!”
There is truly nothing more beautiful than King Shlomo’s poignant description, “How worthy she is who rises from the desert, clinging to her Beloved.” Even in the Gulag. Even in the darkest moments. Even when the whole world rises up against us, we cling to our Beloved. Not just because it is clear that there is no one else to cling to, but because we belong to Him.
To be continued…
