Shabbos Tish in Bnei Brak

My wife and I spent our last Shabbos during our stay in Eretz Yisroel in Bnei Brak. I had spent Shabbos there two years ago with my friend's Sephardic cousins. We are talking serious Sephardim here. They speak Ladino and have Ladino siddurim and seforim that are hundreds of years old. It was my favorite Shabbos then as it was now with one theme in common, the language barrier. Whether it’s the Sephardim and their Ladino, Hebrew, No English or it’s the Aleksander Chasidim and their Yiddish, Hebrew, No English, I still had the most amazing experience not understanding 85% of what was being said.

Before we left, we asked our Rav if he knew anyone we could stay by for Shabbos in Israel. He asked if we wanted a really Chasidish place and we say yes with excitement. He gave us the number for a Rabbi in Bnei Brak who ran the Aleksander Shtiebel there. When we got to Israel, we called him and he was very confused. He didn’t speak very much English and he didn’t seem know who our Rabbi was either. Finally after his daughter got on the phone everything was made clear and we made plans to come. As everything happens for a reason, it’s of course not by chance we stayed in Bnei Brak our last Shabbos. We conditioned ourselves by spending Shabbos in places around Jerusalem, such as the Old City, Har Nof, Ramat Eshkol, and even made it out to Ramat Beit Shemesh, too.

Before we knew it, it was Friday morning and we were busy preparing. It wasn’t until Israel that I understood the saying "You make plans, and G-d laughs..." We got to the Bus Station 10 minutes before the last bus would leave for Bnei Brak, but this was just the beginning of our adventure. When I called the Rabbi that morning to get directions, I apparently didn’t understand anything he said and wrote the cross street and address totally wrong. I did get Rabbi Akiva St. down so we weren’t too far off the beaten path. We got off and walked right by the alley to the house. We kept walking, and walking, and walking and then finally after asking five different people who kept asking us confused "No Hebrew, No Yiddish?" we realized we were lost. We called the Rabbi and turned around and started walking back. I will tell you that walking in humid hot Bnei Brak five minutes before Shabbos in your Shabbos bekeshe pulling a suitcase is not a simple task.

We stopped right in front of the alley and these little chasidishe boys asked us if we American. To make this part of a long story short, it was the Rabbi's grandchildren and they took us to the house. When we got there we were greeted by the Rabbi and his family and much needed air conditioning, soda, and even a little cake. Once I was ready, it was off to shul. One of the most beautiful things I have ever send is a Polishe Chasid walking to shul with his eight grandchild running around him playing and grabbing hold to him. We got to his shtiebel and my stereotype that Haredi Jews aren’t welcoming of outsiders went out the door. At least in Bnei Brak, at least with Aleksander Chasidim it was "Shalom Alechem" this and "Good Shabbos" that. I felt more welcome in 30 seconds then some shuls I have davened at a dozen times. We davened so beautifully together, so slowly but with such fire something I began to take for granted in the Holy Land. The Aleksander Niggunim is so powerful and energetic which helped me begin to understand why Aleksander was the second largest Chasidic group before the War. The climax of my Kabblas Shabbos is Lecha Dodi. If sung right it can lift my soul to such heights. Usually it’s sung in an obscure tune that no one can follow and it ends up being a Shliach Tzibur on a soapbox singing while everyone else reads it. This past Shabbos in Los Angeles this happened to no surprise and when we tried to hijack the niggun the Shliach Tzibur raised his hands like "what are you doing cant you see I’m trying to sing this amazing niggun by myself so no one can follow and only I will enjoy the davening!" Aleksander just like Belz (the only two Chassidic Kabblas Shabbosim I experienced) was amazing. Knowing that it was composed by such a heilige Rebbe as the Yismach Yisroel makes my soul flutter. I was then told by the Rabbi that there would be a Rebbe visiting. He is the Bushtina Rebbe and the brother-in-law of his wife zt"l.



A lot of people trivialize Rebbes and say, "oh, who is this Rebbe" and that and its really sad. Before the war there were dozens of Rebbes and they were all holy tzaddikim and respected for that. I don’t listen to such lashon hara and was eager to spend the evening with this Tzaddik. The Rebbe was celebrating a simcha and there was a Tish planned to be at the Rabbi's house where I was staying. Baruch Hashem, the Rebbe spoke English because if not for him I would have understood even less than the 20% I could barely make out. He didn’t speak to me in English as much as I would like, but it’s not the job of a Rebbe to be a translator. I will just have to learn Yiddish or sit there and be in the clouds. At dinner the food was great but the seating situation was something I was not accustom to. Because of the Rebbe being there, the woman had to be totally separated, but the Rabbi's daughter explained that on a normal Shabbos dinner they would all eat together. I sat by the Rebbe and the Rabbi and the Rebbe gave me his leftovers. I must say the Fish Head was the best part, except I would have liked to have eaten the eyeball. After sinner the Tish began with lots of L'Chaims and songs. The niggunim were on fire. I was in such a daze of awe and excitement I couldn’t even remember the niggunim the next day. To this day I can only remember the chorus of one. The room filled up to around 60+ men and we were all clapping banging singing and finally climaxed dancing in a circle around the table. There was such energy in the room that my mind couldn’t function on any mode except Holy Mode, B"H. I think I passed out on the table for 30 minutes but then was back up singing and dancing, arm locked with other Chasidim, all different types together. Some with spodiks, some with shtreimels, some with flat hats, some with fedoras, all together in honor of the holy Shabbos and to be by a Tzaddik. This for me was a reality when Chazal says Shabbos is 1/60th of Olam Haba.

Shabbos day was nice as well and the same feel overwhelmed me. We left Motzi Shabbos and the Rabbi said we must come back to visit when we return to Eretz Yisroel. Only there can you become so close to people after knowing them only for a short time. Our experience all over was that of true connection to Yidden. It didn’t matter if we were eating by Chasidim, Non Chasidim, or even Non Haredi they all truly cared about being Messengers of Hashem and truly fulfilling the mitzvah of Ahavas Yisroel.

We can’t wait to go back to visit in Bnei Brak and after that Shabbos, it really made me want to wear a spodik! Take it slow, Michael Mordechai, take it slow.