Bilvavi Mishkan Evneh on Novardok

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One of the things that constantly amazes me about R Itamar Schwartz and his Bilvavi Mishkan Evneh seform is that he is willing to pull and blend Torah from a variety of sources and derechim.  Again, this is a major reason I humbly think his seforim speak to our generation.


For example, in the second volume (both in chapter 1 and 2) he brings down an important educational concept from the Alter of Novardok, Rav Yosef Yozel Hurwitz.  In the Alter’s sefer Madregos haAdom he explains that there is a difference between understanding and acknowledging something on an intellectual level and actually experiencing it.  The best example of this that comes to mind would be the difference between reading about the beauty of a traditional Shabbos meal and actually being part of an enjoying a Shabbos meal.


Rav Schwarz applies this teaching of the Alter of Novardok in regard to Emunah and D’vekus (faith and attachment) in relation to Hashem.  Later, in the same volume (chapter 18) the author writes this:

“…rare individuals would roll naked in the snow or break the ice to immerse in the ice cold water of a lake or pond.  Still others practiced a strong form of self-criticism…They might fall into constant bitterness.  This will damage their avodah, because without joy, there is nothing!”

The ikar, the main point, is that unless the end result (or the journey) is, in fact, simcha, joy, then you are not getting the whole picture…!כי כשאין שמחה – אין כלום   The question I often have is, “How do I get there”?  It’s the ability to extract different strengths from a particular derech that really the gadlus of Bilvavi.  In an information age, when many Torah observant Jews can have access to many different seforim, multiple shuls and schools in a community, different types of Jewish newspapers and weekly publications (I’m not even getting into what’s available onilne), it’s hard to distinguish between what might be substance and what might be filler.


While some argue that Novardok was a type of Mussar that was only applicable for a particular time in the world’s history, I’m glad that the Bilvavi is exposing aspects of it to a new generation.  Don’t worry, I’m jsut as happy when I see a quote from the Baal haTanya as well.  One way that I know I am listening to a true talmidei chachamim or a tzaddik (and I don’t throw around that term) is that when they quote sources it will be from a variety of sources.
“Ben (the son of) Zoma said: Who is wise? He who learns from all people, as it is said: ‘From all those who taught me I gained understanding’ (Psalms 119:99). -Pirkei Avos chapter 4 mishna 1


For other posts dealing with the Novardok Yeshiva and school of Mussar click here.

Sunday’s Salanter Selection

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Rabbi Yisrael Lipkin of Salant


Man must give priority to the soul over the body with respect to himself; but must not overlook the body where someone else is concerned, since the next person’s physical [gashmiyus] are his spiritual [ruchnius] affairs.
From Tenuas HaMussar (The Mussar Movement)


For an excellent treatment of this topic, I happily suggest taking a look at R Micha Berger’s post, here.

Holden Caulfield and the lack of observance

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Note:  A few of the thoughts and ideas that make up this post have been sitting in my Blogger Dashboard since 08/09/06, after I sent an email to someone regarding banned seforim and authors.

I heard on CBS radio that J.D. Salinger had died.  As a former fan of fiction, avid reader of THE NEW YORKER, and someone who thought, once upon a time, of going into writing,  I had to pause and give some thought to Mr. Salinger and, of course, The Catcher in the Rye.  The primary thing that comes to mind whenever I think about The Catcher in the Rye is the fact that, sometimes, it takes just one written work to make an impact.  Culturally, this book was one of the first written works to speak to and about teenage life in post World War II America.  As often noted, while the book was intended for adults, many young adults felt that it spoke to them and reflected their feelings of alienation.  It was published in 1951 and banned very quickly due to language, adult situations, promotion of smoking and alcohol drinking, etc.   The book continues to be banned.

Even though I attended what was know as a “top” public school in Kansas, this book was never required reading.  In fact, it wasn’t until I was 22 (summer of 1992) that I first read it.  Holden Caulfield, the main character, was a mouthy teen who had been expelled from four schools and was rather discontent with society, adults, and especially people who were “phony”.  Holden saw the hypocrisy within his society and in many of the people he encountered.  In many ways, not so different from some individuals that would be labeled as “at-risk” or “in-risk”.

One of my favorite quotes (of all time) can be found in chapter two.  Holden says, “People never notice anything”.  I have always thought this to mean that Holden felt that people didn’t understand him and that they were not even willing to attempt to understand him.  It is that lack of observance (not the Torah u’Mitzvos kind), that feeling that we are not important and what we say doesn’t matter that can often lead to a lack of observance (yes, the Torah u’Mitzvos kind).  Most people want to be recognized and valued.  When parents, teachers, family members or the community give the impression that someone isn’t important or “worth the time” it can have a devastating effect on a person.  Of course, when a teen or adult gets to the point that they even contemplate the idea that Hashem forgets about them, then we get into a situation that might bring about that lack of observance.

“People never notice anything,” is a mindset that seems to go against many Jewish values.  Part of the reason I like the quote is because I see how it resonates with many people.  That’s I attempt to notice things.  I try the be first to wish others a “Good Shabbos Kodesh” or give a “Yashar Koach”.  I attempt to take an interest in what is going on in my life of those around me.   Lately I have become keenly aware of when people have a birthday coming up (mostly thanks to Facebook).  To simply ask someone how they are doing, but not push beyond the answer they give is really going only half the distance.

I know this personally, because friends will ask me how I’m doing, and my first reaction is to say, “everything is fine”.  Mostly I do this because R Yisrael Lipkin (Salanter) held that “one’s face is a Reshus HaRabim”, a public area (I believe the story goes that he saw someone looking obviously very serious during Elul and commented to this person, that showing distress might bring others down, as well).  I’m slowly realizing that if a good friend asks how I’m doing, the they do deserve a better answer than, “fine”.  This is sort of like R Dessler’s idea that even though we want to be givers and not takers, sometimes you can be a taker, like when someone really wants to give you a gift, and by taking you are giving to that over person.

“People never notice anything,” just isn’t true.  It’s easy to think that, in the big picture, our actions don’t really make a difference.  I fall into this mentality quite often as of late.  Usually, it’s really before I’m about to do something nice for someone or prior to actually making a difference.  If a novel, movie, song, or other aspect of what’s called “pop culture” speaks to our youth, I think, for myself, that it is important to find out why.  If you meet a teenager and they are into an author or a musical artist then there’s something (even if it’s completely off base) that “speaks” to that person.  This isn’t meant as an academic critique of Mr. Salinger’s book, but I’ve often wondered to myself, “What if Holden had felt that an adult understood him?”  Had that been the case, we would have had a very different story.

Food for thought

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Before Rav Shimon Schwab left Europe he went spent Shabbos with the Chofetz Chaim in Radin. Shabbos night a group of students came over to the home of the Chofetz Chaim and he said:
We know the mun had the ability to take on whatever taste we wanted it to. What happened when the person eating the mun didn’t think about what he wanted it to taste like?
The Chofetz Chaim answered his own question: Then it simply has no taste.


This gets me every time. It’s one of my favorite d’vrei Torah. If I don’t think about my Avodas Hashem, then it has no taste. If I don’t appreciate the people my family, it’s like they don’t exist. How often does my learning or mitzvah performance seem like tasteless mun?


I know that I go through the motions quite often.  I’m aware of it and I attempt to work on it.  I’m sure that Rav Schwab heard the words of the Chofetz Chaim and it also gave him food for thought.


I often, especially lately, will see or read something and it hits me in the face.  Most recently, it was comic in the Forward that has become a bit of a bee in people’s bonnets.  I chose to contact the artist and got his side of the story.  If perception is everything, then we as a Torah observant community have our work cut out for us.  To eat the mun and not taste it, is up there with feeding the mun to someone else and they only tasting something bitter.


(The beginning of this post was originally posted here)

The taste of "Niskatnu HaDoros"

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“Niskatnu HaDoros”, the diminishing of the generations, refers to the idea that each generation that is further away from the giving of the Torah, is weaker and further away from Kedusha.  You know how people say, “they don’t make them like they use to”, the “them” in this case would be someone from the previous generation in comparison to someone in our generation.  Think of that “alter Yid” you see in shul who takes time to actually kiss his siddur after davening.  Or the “bubbie” you see in the checkout line in the grocery store, quietly saying Tehillim to herself.
Now think of all the “young married guys” who, after shul is over, run to be “first” in line at kiddush.  Think of the young mother loudly talking on her cell phone while in line to purchase groceries for Shabbos Kodesh.  Yeah, these would be examples of “Niskatnu HaDoros”.  I guess that I’ve got it easy (another example of the diminishing of the generations) because I don’t have to come up with fictional examples.  I can just see it in my own kids.
The three kids that Hashem gave to my wife and I are the following ages:  10, 7, and 3.  They, like most of the kids in this dor (generation) have a penchant for any candy that’s sour.  Sour drops, balls, sticks, gum, gummys, apples, drinks, milk (ok, my kids don’t dig sour milk), etc.  They crave it.  Even the littlest one likes sour sticks.  Now, as much as my children love these items, that affection pales in comparison to the pleasure they derive from watching their Abba attempt to eat these things.  I pucker up and make, what they view as, the funniest face ever.  Why?  “Niskatnu HaDoros”, that’s why.  So, the next time you sit at a Shabbos table or schmooze with a friend over coffee and bemoan the fact that the youth of today have lost that “tam”, taste, for Torah u’Mitzvos, think of sour sticks.