I've been thinking about what I posted yesterday.
"Why Are You an Anti-Zionist?"
That question was asked to me by my best friend, many years ago. I can't remember the name of most of my teachers from High School, but this I remember. We were sitting in his living room on a Shabbat afternoon.
I was a bit taken aback.
How, I asked, was I an Anti-Zionist? I had gone to Israel almost every summer of my life, my oldest and dearest friend lived there, heck, I'd had friends there who were killed in terrorist attacks.
His reason was quite simple: I wore a velvet yarmulkah.
Really. That was it. If I were truly whole-hearted in my support of a Jewish State, I would go out and get a knit kippah.
Now, I love this guy like a brother (well, maybe better than a couple of them now that I think about it), but I told him then and I'd gladly tell him now that I thought that was the dumbest thing I had ever heard. What I cover my head with shouldn't matter. What should matter are the words out of my mouth and the feelings I held in my heart. If he was going to judge me by the way I was dressed, then the issue was with him, not me.
Let me give you a story by way of example.
One summer on an Erev Shabbat my father, brother, and I were in Giulah in Israel. For those who are unfamiliar with the area, it's a very, very ultra-Orthodox community. I was wearing a pair of jeans (possibly torn at the right knee) and a Spider-Man T-shirt. Why? Because I was an unthinking boob is why. Seriously though, becauseI wanted to be comfortable.
Anyway, all of the sudden a little Chasidishe boy runs up to us.
"Dokter! Dokter! Mein Zeidie is here from Amerika! He wants you should come see him!"
The "Zeidie" in question was the Kosoner Rebbe, Zt'l, who used to be the Rav of the shul we davened at in The Bronx. My father had a very strong connection with him and even after he moved to Boro Park, my father would attend services on Hoshanah Rabbah and one day of Chold Hamoed Pesach. One of his daughters lived in the area and he was visiting.
So there we went, off to see the Rav. I was feeling that shame that teenage boys feel when they've been caught at something they shouldn't be doing. Here I was, going to visit a Rav dressed like a street urchin. Why couldn't I have at least worn a button down shirt? What would he think of me? What would he think of my father now, seeing how his son dresses?
When we entered his daughter's house, we were greeted with smiles. After the Rav said hello to my father he turned to me and gave me this odd look, like he was analyzing me somehow. He opened his mouth to speak and I thought, here it comes. I'm going to get a rebuke...
"They still make Spider-Man comics?"
Flabbergasted is the only real word to describe how I felt. Well, that and relieved. I actually ended up getting in a very short discussion of Spider-Man comic books with the Kosoner Rebbe.
Which brings me back to my point. The Rav didn't look at me and think "this boy is a bum because he's wearing jeans," or "How dare he come see me dressed like this!" Or even if he did, which I can't imagine, he didn't say it to me. Instead he made me feel welcome in his home. That, my friends, is a Rav.
Today I am wearing a suede yarmulke. Tomorrow I might wear a velvet one. On Shabbat, if it is sunny, I will wear my black hat. Otherwise, I don't think I will. It depends. No matter what I wear though, the head it's on will still be mine. The thoughts in it will be the same and my level of observance will not have altered in the least. I will still, for ill or good, be me.
I still don't wear knit kippot, mind you. I just find them uncomfortable. I like my head coverings to have some heft. That's the only reason. There's no dark, sinister secret behind it.
This time.
That question was asked to me by my best friend, many years ago. I can't remember the name of most of my teachers from High School, but this I remember. We were sitting in his living room on a Shabbat afternoon.
I was a bit taken aback.
How, I asked, was I an Anti-Zionist? I had gone to Israel almost every summer of my life, my oldest and dearest friend lived there, heck, I'd had friends there who were killed in terrorist attacks.
His reason was quite simple: I wore a velvet yarmulkah.
Really. That was it. If I were truly whole-hearted in my support of a Jewish State, I would go out and get a knit kippah.
Now, I love this guy like a brother (well, maybe better than a couple of them now that I think about it), but I told him then and I'd gladly tell him now that I thought that was the dumbest thing I had ever heard. What I cover my head with shouldn't matter. What should matter are the words out of my mouth and the feelings I held in my heart. If he was going to judge me by the way I was dressed, then the issue was with him, not me.
Let me give you a story by way of example.
One summer on an Erev Shabbat my father, brother, and I were in Giulah in Israel. For those who are unfamiliar with the area, it's a very, very ultra-Orthodox community. I was wearing a pair of jeans (possibly torn at the right knee) and a Spider-Man T-shirt. Why? Because I was an unthinking boob is why. Seriously though, becauseI wanted to be comfortable.
Anyway, all of the sudden a little Chasidishe boy runs up to us.
"Dokter! Dokter! Mein Zeidie is here from Amerika! He wants you should come see him!"
The "Zeidie" in question was the Kosoner Rebbe, Zt'l, who used to be the Rav of the shul we davened at in The Bronx. My father had a very strong connection with him and even after he moved to Boro Park, my father would attend services on Hoshanah Rabbah and one day of Chold Hamoed Pesach. One of his daughters lived in the area and he was visiting.
So there we went, off to see the Rav. I was feeling that shame that teenage boys feel when they've been caught at something they shouldn't be doing. Here I was, going to visit a Rav dressed like a street urchin. Why couldn't I have at least worn a button down shirt? What would he think of me? What would he think of my father now, seeing how his son dresses?
When we entered his daughter's house, we were greeted with smiles. After the Rav said hello to my father he turned to me and gave me this odd look, like he was analyzing me somehow. He opened his mouth to speak and I thought, here it comes. I'm going to get a rebuke...
"They still make Spider-Man comics?"
Flabbergasted is the only real word to describe how I felt. Well, that and relieved. I actually ended up getting in a very short discussion of Spider-Man comic books with the Kosoner Rebbe.
Which brings me back to my point. The Rav didn't look at me and think "this boy is a bum because he's wearing jeans," or "How dare he come see me dressed like this!" Or even if he did, which I can't imagine, he didn't say it to me. Instead he made me feel welcome in his home. That, my friends, is a Rav.
Today I am wearing a suede yarmulke. Tomorrow I might wear a velvet one. On Shabbat, if it is sunny, I will wear my black hat. Otherwise, I don't think I will. It depends. No matter what I wear though, the head it's on will still be mine. The thoughts in it will be the same and my level of observance will not have altered in the least. I will still, for ill or good, be me.
I still don't wear knit kippot, mind you. I just find them uncomfortable. I like my head coverings to have some heft. That's the only reason. There's no dark, sinister secret behind it.
This time.
posted by - Typo Lad | 9:53 AM
16 Comments:
Great post. I don't wear velvet for the reverse reason: I hate the heavy feeling on my head. I'm glad my "circle" is less judgemental either way about this, but I still recall being told by a 10-year old (when I was 13) that I "wasn't frum" because I didn't wear a hat. The stereotyping swings all ways, and it's sickening.
Fantastic post!! I'll definitely check your blog more often. It's a refreshing change to the norm. Maybe we should team up?
I stopped wearing suede when i found out it's made of baby animals. Now i wear a black knit one instead, usually. I've also been amassing a nice collection of thematic patterns for different holidays.
Beautiful post about the Rebbe. How heartwarming!
Ez - There's a difference between a 10 year old saying it and a 17 year old. One assumes a 17 year old knows a little better.
neil - Thank you! Is this the same Neil Harris who was in NCSY?
steg - and you just ruined suede for me.
Sephardilady - a Kossoner? Neat! Glad you liked it.
I am in true unison about you'r post. With the rise of people being put into "charum", chastised, or falsely accused, for stupidity it is nice to see that there people oyut there taking a stand against this nurishkeit. I grew up in a community in NY where "if your not on this level of frumkeit your not frum", and this community has one of the highest rates of kids of the derech. I had an amazing teacher in HS who mind you, was the head of a prestigous community kollel and was extremly frum ( for all the right reasons). He ws my halacha teacher and used to emphasize over and over again how important it is to remember that different people have different minhagim (customs) and we have to respect everyone for what they do and we cant say "im right and they are wrong, becuase they do things differently". Maybe if everyone stopped worrying about how religous everyone else was and they focused on worrying about themselves and how they can be better Jews, then we would have a lot less blasphamy and hate and perhaps we can be on the road to the Redemption.
I meant to write i am in true unison with your post not about.
One assumes a 10-year old whose father is a BT Rabbi would have been taught better, too. But point taken.
Typo Lad-Not a Kossner, not a Rebbe I'm familiar with. My sentence should have read a Rebbe, instead of the Rebbe, or an adam gadol.
Still, a touching and heartwarming story and a lesson about how to bring people closer to Torah, not further.
great post :)
A great story about a great man.
I don't know if you've seen these yarmulkes which are half velvet and half knit with the words "I Love All Jews" (in Hebrew) embroidered.
The idea of loving all Jews is, of course, a good one. However, a good friend of mine (who wears a knitted kippa) says that this yarmulke sends the message that those who choose to wear a velvet or knit kippah do not "love all Jews". While I didn't see it this way, I guess the fact that someone is actually making this kind of yarmulke underscores that we have a problem in this regard.
Interesting comment, considering that you're accusing me of something I have never said to anyone in my life, and placing it during high school, when I wore a velvet kipa AND a black hat for Shabbat. I wish I could still wear both now, but unfortunately in Israel you have to make hard choices. It is true that I wear a crocheted kipa now, and I may have asked you why you choose velvet of the two, considering that it comes with certain implications. However, I certainly would never say that your Zionism depends on what sort of kipa you wear, or if you wear one at all; it depends on whether you live in Israel or not.
Yossie-
I apologize if you feel that I have misrepresented you. However, I do clearly remember the comment. Maybe you meant it in jest and I took it seriously and that's my problem. I don't know. However, you ver much took me to task over not wearing a kippah serugah during the vuch.
By your own response, however, you admit that people do judge other Jews by what's on their heads instead of in it. do you fid this acceptible?
As for my having to live in Midinas Yisroel to support it, well, I believe you know my opinions on that matter by now. I respect you greatly for your choice, but do not feel that mine makes me any less of a person.
Take care.
I maintain what I said before. I don't believe in judging people's worth by their headgear; only Hashem can make that judgement. However, how you dress does send a certain message in terms of with which group, among many valid choices, one identifies. If a Breslaver hassid dresses like a Toldos Aharon hassid, I might wonder why. Were he a friend of mine, I might ask him as well.
Add to the list of things I haven't said "having to live in Midinas Yisroel to support it," as you put it. Zionism is the idea that Jews belong in Israel under their own rule. Some find this an expression of daat Torah; some see it as diametrically opposed to it; some say it depends. A Jew supporting Medinat Yisrael without living in it cannot be Zionism; it might be pro-Zionism or something along those lines. It is not necessarily anti-Zionism. I hope that clears it up.
Beautiful story about the Rebbe. I studied for two years with a chasidic rabbi who had a shul in Brooklyn. I never once wore a suit or hat to his shul. But he never objected. He DID object once when I made some comments at his Shabat table that were out of line -- and he was correct to do so. He cared about internals, not externals.
Great post. While I was doing a google search for information on the Kosoner Rebbe, your blog came up. Long story short, there is a Kosoner Rebbe burried in Los Angeles and I was wondering if you could give me some info on their chassidus, where they came from etc, and who the current Rebbe is.
The Rebbe buried in La is:
Rebbe Moshe Shmuel Rotenberg ZT"L
Any info would be great. Thanks!
Kol Tuv.
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