HaRav Avrohom Yoffen zt"l
The Successes and the Almost Successes
Achieving such harmony was Novardok's goal, but very few merited to attain it. As a result, the Alter of Novardok was asked: "What caused you to formulate so long and difficult an approach, when only a few are able to pursue it to completion?"
He replied: "I once visited a furniture factory. It had many departments—a closet department, a chair department, a table department. One department, though, was manned by a group of artisans who specialized in wood carvings. Although they produced only one or two pieces of furniture a year, each was a masterpiece. Quite naturally, much sawdust accumulated in such a factory, and was stored in the yard. Although it seemed to be useless, such was not the case, for during the winter months, it was removed from the yard and used as fuel.
"My yeshiva," continued the Alter, "is like that factory. Although there are few `lions' [or artisans] in the yeshiva, the standard `furniture' is also in demand. Here too, the sawdust—those simple Jews who study in my yeshiva and then leave—have also proved beneficial to society. No one has ever passed through the furnaces of Novardok, without having been burned. Everyone is singed by the roaring flames, each according to his own degree."
The Vaadim
How did that furnace function? What was the secret of Novardok's success and charisma?
In Novardok, each student received individual attention, in accordance with his inner and private world, and was placed in a special group which suited his particular personality and character traits. Each group consisted of ten to fifteen students, and was led by a rosh vaad, who was a bit older than the rest, and would guide and counsel them in the light of his own experiences.
The members of the vaad would meet twice a week (and every day during Elul), after Mincha. The meetings were not pleasant social gatherings at which everyone delivered a vert'l or a light discourse. At these meetings, they spat blood!
This hour was called the "bourse" (literally, the stock-exchange). However, while regular stock-exchanges deal in vanities, this one dealt in the most precious commodity of all—man's soul, and the path leading to closeness to Hashem.
These discussions were not academic, but rather lively parleys, at which human beings were torn apart, limb by limb. Each member of the vaad would describe his faults and his most recent failures and shortcomings in great detail. In his efforts to discover the roots of the obstacles obstructing his avodas Hashem, he would not hesitate to divulge his innermost thoughts, or his most private secrets and yearnings.
The members of the group knew that the battle against the evil inclination had to be uncompromising and that in order to emerge victorious, one had to first remove the enemy from his hiding place.
After each member of the group had bared his soul, all would convene for a friendly rap-session. Just as Briskers would break down a sugya to its various components until locating its root, so did Novardokers dissect the soul bit by bit, until they discovered its defective part. After it was located each member would suggest a corrective measure, whose effectiveness could only be ascertained at the following "bourse" (after it had been applied).
The frank and open atmosphere of the "bourses" created a deep sense of closeness and camaraderie between the members of the vaad who yearned to achieve a state of total unity and amity. Stories of their devotion towards each other and the acts of mutual chesed they performed could fill a book.
A Novardok Mussar Session
After each vaad had met, all would gather in the yeshiva's large auditorium for a mussar study session. Needless to say, one who has never attended a Novardok mussar session does not know what mussar sessions are!
Each student not only had different problems and different propensities and leanings, but would also approach the study of mussar a different way. One would fervently repeat a specific Talmudic maxim meant to arouse man to repent; another would lean on his shtender, ecstatically leafing through a mussar sefer; yet another would pace to and fro, from one end of the hall to the other, crying: "Ai! Ai!," his cries expressing the deep anguish he felt at being so far from his desired aim.
A group of maskilim from Kiev, who were staying in Mestrich, once witnessed such a chamulah. They arrived in the yeshiva while the mussar session was taking place, and were startled to hear shouts and cries emanating from every corner of the auditorium. In their amazement, they approached the rosh yeshiva, R' Dovid Bleicher (one of the most outstanding students of the Alter of Novardok), and asked him to explain the scene.
R' Dovid replied with the following story: "Once there was a village fool who couldn't do anything right. However, he had one saving grace: a pleasant voice. When he grew older, the desperate villagers sent him to the city to study music and singing. A few years later, the fool actually learned the rules of music, and would even sing in public from time to time. One day, he learned that his father had died, and he returned to his village. When he entered his home, he heard weeping, wailing and moaning resounding from every corner of the house. While still on the threshold of his house, he lifted his hand and motioned to everyone to be still. When the weeping ceased, he cried: `Stop your crying. You are off-key!'
"`Look,' R' Dovid then cried, as he pointed to the yeshiva students. `They are in a state of ecstasy now, and their emotions are at peak level. Can one think about musical rules at such a time?' "
A Novardok Mussar Shmuess
After such a session, during which the students would peel away the layers of obstinacy which covered their hearts, the shmuess would be delivered. In these discourses, the rosh yeshiva would deftly refer to all the outstanding problems discussed at the most recent vaad meetings. (Each rosh vaad presented a weekly report of his activities to the rosh yeshiva.)
Thus, the discussion wasn't a general one, intended for the public at large, but a heart-to-heart talk, which caused every listener to feel that the rosh yeshiva was speaking to him and to him alone.
Nor were the results of the discourse late in coming, for words which emanate from hearts, penetrate hearts, and when they enter the heart of a listener, they are transported to his veins, and from there to all his organs, bathing them in life-giving fluid, and healing the defective ones. "Veshav verafa lo."
The following story is a case in point: At one vaad, a student related that when he returned home for bein hazmanim (which was once a year in Novardok), he would feel a let down in his avodas Hashem. He did his part, and continued to study and maintain his Novardok customs even during intersession. However his neighbors were simple folk, who would deride him, saying: "Chanyok! Look at the chumros he is bringing to our town."
At the next mussar session, the Rosh Yeshiva interlaced his discourse with tidbits about the quality of courage which a person who serves G-d must cultivate.
The morning after the lecture, the young man entered a local drugstore and asked for a pound of cucumbers. One needn't be very imaginative in order to visualize the startled expression of the druggist. But the young man steadied his gaze, and a bit more confidently again said: "Please give me a pound of cucumbers."
This time, the druggist could not contain himself, and he and his customers burst into hysterical laughter, accompanied by resounding jibes. But the young man paid no heed to them, and said dryly, "If you don't want to sell me the cucumbers, I'll go to another drugstore."
The young man returned to the yeshiva after the next bein hazmanim, a smile on his lips. At the first vaad meeting, he said: "The exercise was successful. The villagers continued to deride me, but I wasn't disturbed in the least."
The discourses of the Alter had a phenomenal effect even on visitors. One time, a wealthy young man (who wasn't a ben Torah) attended a Novardok discourse on the subject of bitachon. The Rosh Yeshiva compared the futility of human efforts to G-d's unlimited capacity. The visitor was so moved by the penetrating and stirring words of the Rosh Yeshiva, that as soon as the lecture had ended, he returned to his lodgings, and then and there, threw his suitcase, which contained all his wealth, out the window.
After hearing such stories, a smile will surely cross the lips of some of our readers. While it is not forbidden and even quite normal to smile, our readers must still know that through such behavior, the Novardokers were really expressing their inner essence in its sincerest form, for above all, Novardokers refrained from self deceit and hypocrisy.
To Be Yourself
To illustrate the importance of genuineness and authenticity, they would cite a parable about a farmer who had a horse and a puppy. One day the horse reasoned: "I work all day, lugging heavy crates from one place to the next. I never rest, and at the end of the day, receive a meager amount of hay for my efforts. That puppy doesn't lift a paw all day, but the farmer spoils him and lavishes him with continuous love and attention. I'll imitate the puppy, and perhaps my lot will improve."
That night the horse left the stable and entered his master's home unnoticed. There he saw the puppy crawling all over the master and petting him with its paw. The master lovingly returned the fond embraces. `Aha,' reasoned the horse, `so that's the secret.'
In the morning, when the master brought him some straw, the horse jumped on him and began to `pet' him with his hoof. Seeing that the horse had gone berserk, the master tied him up, and beat him.
"The master of the Universe does not want horse-heads," they would shout in Novardok. Every imitation is cheap, and its results are obvious. Every man must make optimal use of the traits and characteristics which are uniquely his, and use them for the purpose of serving his Creator. But to discover what makes one unique, one must toil his entire life. If he toils, though, he will eventually reach his aim.
Yet no matter how much effort he expends, his soul will never be satiated, because it has no bounds, and is not satisfied by human effort (even if they are his own). Chazal have told us that were it not for Hashem's help, man would never conquer his evil inclination. And it is from this vantage point that the Novardok prayer was uttered. But it was more than a lengthy and ordered request. It was an expression of the longings of the soul, which are indeed satisfied. When one prays, tearfully, all the dams of the soul burst, and join together to form one request: that perfection be achieved.
