Olam Hazeh (this world) is not a static entity. It’s forever changing in response to
scientific “progress,” social unrest, political unrest, and international
unrest. Our great grandparents never saw
a car and we never saw the Czar. The old
world is constantly being swept away to bring in the new.
What better example of this phenomenon could there
be in our time than September 11, 2001, more popularly known as 9/11?
Within an hour of the attack, Rabbi Yaakov Bender,
HaRosh Yeshiva of Yeshivas Darchei Torah spoke in the Mesivta bais medrash into
which over 1,000 children, kindergarten through bais medrash had been crammed. What he said can be summed up in seven words:
“The world
will never be the same.”
All of the wars, revolutions, economic transitions
(Industrial Revolution etc.) and social realignments (civil rights, abomination
rights etc.) have changed the world in which we live in myriad ways, even the air we breathe and the water we drink courtesy of pollution.
But these changes, their earth shaking effects on our lives notwithstanding, do not touch the essence of this world. For that we need another kind of change.
Rabbi Shmuel Dishon tells us that when the Chazon
Ish was nifter the Steipler Rov was by his bedside. When he came out of the room he said:
“It’s not the same world. A minute ago it was a world with the Chazon
Ish and now it’s a world without the Chazon Ish.”
Anyone who has lost a loved one can relate to his
words, the only difference being that a loved one’s loss is personal, and while
it most certainly impacts on the ruchniyas of this world, the length and breadth
of that impact is on a much smaller scale.
Over and above the massive changes that take place
when someone on the level of the Chazon Ish leaves this world, changes which are
unseen and unfelt by humanity even though they go to the very core of the world’s
essence, there is also something in the air that can actually be felt.
When the Satmar Rov passed away in 1979 I was living
in Givat Shaul in Yerushalyam. When the
sound truck that announced his petira (death) passed through the neighborhood I
went out on the marpesset to better hear what was being said and I remained
there long after the sound truck could no longer be heard. As I stood there trying to comprehend a world
without the Satmar Rov I noticed that every marpesset on every multi story
building on both sides of the street was filled with people and that no one was
moving. And so it went for what seemed
at the time like forever.
For the next three days I was listless. My learning was next to worthless and I
couldn’t concentrate during davening. Moreover,
at odd times I would begin to cry for no apparent reason.
By the fourth day I made my peace with a world without
the Satmar Rov and moved on with my life.
And did I mention that I have nothing to do with
Satmar. The Rebbe’s greatness aside, the
manner in which his followers manifest his point of view at street level keeps
me on perpetual sinas chinam watch (the possibility of mine, not theirs) which
makes the world without the Satmar Rov all that more significant. It wasn’t a personal loss because I had no
connection. It was a Klal loss which
scrambled and reset the ruchniyas foundations of our world and I was able to
sense it as such.
This is what the Steipler meant when he said and now it’s a world without the Chazon Ish.
He was expressing the seismic shift in
the internal code upon which our world functions, not his personal loss as the
Chazon Ish’s brother-in-law.
And the same process puts in an appearance when one does
an aveira.
You messed up?
If you did something that was beneath your normal
standard Hashem will sometimes let you feel a little of what you put into
motion, and so you will feel bad and out of sorts. The world now has a different feel about it
from your perspective and you no longer feel comfortable in it, albeit
temporarily.
There was a world before you messed up and now there
is a different world.
And mitzvos not?
The next time you put on tefillin or light Shabbos
candles say goodbye to the world before the mitzvah.
