In the May 31, 2022 issue, Mishpacha Magazine posed the following question and invited me and others to respond:

Question:

My oldest son is a smart and energetic eight-year-old. He does well in school, and his rebbi says the boys in the class like him. But at home he acts very differently. He has a hair-trigger temper, often having meltdowns when things don’t go his way, and lashing out at me or his younger siblings. The intensity of his tantrums frighten me.

I want to send him to therapy to help him learn healthier ways to respond when frustrated and to discover if there’s anything more worrisome at the root of all this anger.

But my husband is completely unfazed by our son’s behavior. He tells me that many boys get angry easily, and he’s adamant that his son does not need therapy. When I point out examples of my son’s inappropriate reactions, he just shrugs and tells me he’ll grow out of it.

I’m worried that without help, this will spiral into even more dysfunctional behavior as he gets older.

Do I force the issue and have it become a conflict between my husband and me, or should I just hope his behavior will change as he gets older?

My Answer:

Rav Yaakov Kamenetsky once ran into a talmid and inquired about how he was doing. The young man gave a krechtz, explaining that his child had kept him up several nights in a row. “Tzaar gidul banim,” he sighed. The great gadol turned to his talmid and said, “That isn’t tzaar gidul banim, the pain of child rearing, it is just gidul banim, child rearing.”

The essential question, the point of debate between the two of you is: When do behaviors, thought patterns, or phobias rise to the level of a clinical diagnoses, and when are they normative and regular? When do they need intervention and treatment, and when do we assume the person exhibiting them will grow out of them? When are they gidul banim, and when are they tzaar gidul banim?

The line between outlier behavior that should be cause for concern and more standard behavior, where there’s nothing to be particularly worried about, is often very fine and difficult to see. But here’s the thing that I believe you must try to communicate to your husband: If you observed your child frequently losing his balance or experiencing dizziness, would you dismiss it as a growing pain, something he will grow out of? Or would you — at minimum — seek the opinion of a physician, asking a qualified and trained person to make that judgment?

What is true for physical imbalance or spatial dizziness is equally true for mental imbalance and emotional dizziness. Though shalom bayis is a core value and you correctly should be committed to harmony with your husband, when it comes to your child’s physical, mental, and emotional health, there must be no shame, no stigma, and no hesitation in impressing upon him the importance of asking an expert and deferring to the guidance you receive.

The Torah tells us (Shemos 21:19) “verapo yerapei — and shall cause him to be healed,” from which the Gemara (Berachos 60a) learns, “mi’kan she’nitein reshus l’rofei l’rapos — from here we learn that permission is granted to a doctor to heal.” In other words, the practice of medicine, seeking out the treatment of a doctor, is consistent with the will of Hashem. Why would we think it isn’t? Rashi (Bava Kama 85b) explains, “I might have thought that if someone is ill, physically or mentally, that is what Hashem wants, and we are obligated to accept it. So the Torah tells us no, Hashem has given doctors license and responsibility to heal.”

The Shulchan Aruch (Yoreh Dei’ah 336:1), goes even further and writes, “The Torah has given permission to the doctor to heal. It is a mitzvah to do so and part of pikuach nefesh. If a doctor refuses to do so, he is guilty of bloodshed.” Many poskim, including the Tzitz Eliezer (12:18:8) and Rav Asher Weiss (Minchas Asher 2:134), apply the halachic principles and rules of physical health to mental health.

So, in the case of your question — are these ordinary tantrums, incidents of adolescent impetuousness, or is there clinical anger and rage? — a competent doctor must make that determination. Even if it is awkward or outside your comfort zone, for your son’s well-being, you should get to the bottom of the behavior.

How should you convince your husband? You should communicate in a non-adversarial way, engaging and positioning your husband as your partner, on the same side and part of one team, equally devoted to your son’s wellbeing. You should implore him to help. Follow your maternal instinct on this issue; though your husband may be right that this is something your son will grow out of, it is fair and reasonable for you to want a professional to endorse that. After all, if he’s right, there is no harm in having an expert say there is nothing more to do. But if he is wrong, your son will pay a price by his indifference and passiveness. You should calmly communicate that you’re asking him to partner and respect you on this, not only for the sake of your son, but also for the sake of you shalom bayis, to preserve the harmony that is good for you, your son, and the whole family.

If or when he goes along, your husband must not let your son know he’s doing so begrudgingly or under protest. The ben sorer u’moreh, the rebellious child, is described by the Torah as einenu sho’meiah b’kol aviv u’v’kol imo, he doesn’t listen to the voice of his father and the voice of his mother. Why doesn’t the Torah simply say he doesn’t listen to the voice of his father and mother? Why does it repeat the word “voice” for each? Commentators explain that part of what contributes to a rebellious child is inconsistent messaging from his parents. When a child hears different voices from his father and mother, when he perceives daylight between them, he is often lost, confused, and becomes rebellious.

Confronting potential challenges with our children can push us apart or make us grow closer together. The choice of having parenting problems or compounding them with marital strife is up to us. If we are committed to speak with one voice, to respect each other’s opinions but defer to outside guidance when we don’t agree, we can not only do what is best for our children but develop a better marriage in the process.

Earlier this week, four Israelis were killed, and several others were injured, in a terrorist stabbing attack at a shopping center and gas station in Be’er Sheva.  Beautiful, innocent souls, guilty only of being Jewish and living in the one and only Jewish homeland, were murdered in cold blood, reminding us yet again how our brothers and sisters in Israel live daily with threats and dangers.

One would think a country whose citizens face terror regularly and are surrounded by hostile enemies who seek their extermination would be paralyzed by fear and would be debilitated by distress.  Instead, despite the daily dangers, Israelis are remarkably happy.

According to this year’s World Happiness Report that was just released, Israel has climbed to its highest ranking yet, breaking into the top 10 happiest countries in the world.  Finland came in first for the fifth year in a row, while Afghanistan placed last at No. 146.  At No. 9, Israelis are happier than Canadians (No. 15), Americans (No. 16) and the people of the United Kingdom (No. 17).

When the Founding Fathers included the “pursuit of happiness” as an American right and entitlement, it is almost as if there was an inherent concession that happiness can be pursued, but it is hard to ever attain.  For many, that pursuit has grown tiring and indeed, they have given up.  In 2006, Harvard psychologist Daniel Gilbert wrote a book called “Stumbling on Happiness.”  In it, he argues that the things and experiences we typically predict and imagine will bring us happiness, rarely do.  Rather, he says, happiness is elusive, and while there are efforts we can make, our best bet is to hope to stumble upon it. 

Judaism doesn’t agree.  Happiness, simcha, is not something that we stumble or trip upon by accident.  It is the result of a conscious decision, a determined attitude.  In his Mesillas Yesharim, the Ramchal writes that simcha is ikkar avodah, being happy and joyful is not a luxury or simply preferable, they are critical components of a meaningful life of serving Hashem. 

We tend to think that when we are happy we smile, but it turns out to be the opposite.  Science has shown that the mere act of smiling, engaging the micro muscles involved, can lift your mood, lower stress, boost your immune system, and even prolong your life.  When you smile, your brain releases neuropeptides to help fight stress. Dopamine, serotonin, and endorphins are released that relieve pain and bring pleasure. 

As a result, choosing to smile is choosing happiness, not only for you but for the people around you.  Nicholas Christakis, a professor at Harvard Medical School, found that misery is not alone in liking company; happiness is also contagious.  Knowing someone who is happy makes you 15.3% more likely to be happy yourself. A happy friend of a friend increases your odds of happiness by 9.8%, and even your neighbor’s sister’s friend can give you a 5.6% boost.

In Pirkei Avos (1:15) Shammai teaches: שַׁמַּאי אוֹמֵר…וֶהֱוֵי מְקַבֵּל אֶת כָּל הָאָדָם בְּסֵבֶר פָּנִים יָפוֹת.  Shammai used to say, receive all people with a pleasant countenance. Rav Ovadia Bartenura provides a powerful interpretation: “When you bring in guests to your home, do not give to them while ‘your face is buried in the ground;’ as anyone who gives and ‘his face is buried in the ground’ – even if he gave all of the gifts in the world – it is counted for him as if he did not give anything.”  If you give someone, even generously, but you don’t smile, it is as if you gave nothing.  The smile is more valuable than the resource you shared. 

Simcha, happiness, occurs when we make the decision to focus on the blessings in our lives, no matter how challenging or formidable the struggles we face simultaneously.  If our happiness results from the blessings we already have, we can always find happiness, because we always have at least something.  But if our happiness is determined by what we don’t have—“If only I had more money, a nicer house, a better job, a more loving spouse, more loyal children”—we will never be happy because we can always have more and therefore by definition there will always be something we don’t have.  

In a recent Living with Emunah shiur, I challenged everyone, men and women, adults and children, to make the conscious effort to smile more, even—or especially—when we don’t feel like it.  Smile before walking into the house.  Smile when the children come into the car at carpool.  Smile when greeting your family at the end of the day.  Be intentional, create the habit and routine of smiling in the moments that will create the mood and introduce the energy. 

After the shiur, I received several emails about how smiles changed people’s lives:

Since the end of the Emunah class today was about smiling, thought I’d share this with you. I was at a Shabbat meal when I was single and wasn’t in the best mood. I guess dating was getting to me. A bunch of single guys were there at that meal and the lady of the home told my Rebbetzin that I need to smile more, especially if I’m looking for a shidduch. So on Simchas Torah weekend as I walked out of shul I started to smile going down the stairs with hundreds of singles around, and my future husband saw me smiling. He came over to me because I was smiling. 

Another person wrote:

Your story in the Emunah shiur brought me joy (and a smile). Twenty-plus years ago as a young, single college graduate, I went for a Beracha from the Kaliver rebbe. After four hours, I was called in. The rebbe said to be happy. I said rebbe, I am happy. He said be happy. I was like wow. If this is all that rebbe said to me it must be a very deep Torah concept. I am generally a very happy, positive person. Optimistic, smiley… but those words stuck with me and I turned my relationships, especially with Hashem, to focus on happiness. I smiled much more. Then Hakadosh Baruch Hu sent me my zivug. I was on the women’s side at a kiddush in shul and my now husband saw me smiling and asked a friend to find out who I was and set us up. The power of a smile and emunah…we were married that Adar! Now a gazillion sleepless nights later, several children, thousands of rides to school, mishmar, sports, etc, I do it with a smile. Each carpool. A smile is the first thing people notice externally.

Don’t stumble on happiness, choose it by smiling more. 

Many years ago, I took my children to the Museum of Natural History in Manhattan. A guide took us around and was patiently describing the history of the world, showing us fossils with great enthusiasm, and talking in detail about prehistoric times. About 15 minutes into the tour, one of my daughters, four years old at the time, raised her hand and asked if she could ask a question. With a gleam in her eye and a big smile on her face, eager to interact with a young child taking an interest in her life’s work, she said, absolutely, ask me anything. I, too, was very curious what fascinated my little girl so much and what question she would ask. I will never forget, my daughter looked up and said, “Um, I love your earrings, where did you get them from?”  I wanted to hide behind the tyrannosaurus rex, but while it wasn’t exactly the question she was looking for, the guide couldn’t help but smile from the compliment.

March 1 is international compliment day. First initiated in the Netherlands in 2001, this holiday has gained in popularity and spread across the world, with people making a concerted effort to offer others compliments specifically on that day. The founder of international compliment day explained why he started it: “Nothing stimulates more, gives more energy, makes people happier and, as far as business is concerned, increases productivity and commitment faster than sincere appreciation. So why not use it a little bit more?”

Our Parsha describes how the Kohen Gadol wore a robe that had bells and woven pomegranates along its hem. In 2011, archaeologists in the City of David found one of the little golden bells from the end of the Second Temple period. 

Chazal tell us that the bells atoned for lashon hara, the misuse and abuse of the power of speech. Indeed, there were seventy-two of these bells in total, not coincidentally the same number of possible shades of white that could make someone a metzora, the result of speaking gossip.

If you were trying to bring awareness to the importance of not misusing speech and inspiring people not to gossip and speak lashon hara, wouldn’t it be more fitting to institute a moment of silence in the Beis HaMikdash each day, rather than design a garment filled with bells that make noise?

Perhaps we can answer based on an insight from the Shemen HaTov, Rav Bernard Weinberger. Later in Parshas Metzora, the Torah says that the process of purification for one who suffered tzara’as as a result of speaking gossip is to offer two birds. If the offering is an atonement for abusing speech, why not simply bring one bird for the one violation? The Zohar explains that there are two because one bird corresponds with bad speech and one with good speech. What does that mean?

The Shemen HaTov explains that sometimes we have the opportunity to offer positive reinforcement, to give a compliment or say something nice, and yet we remain silent. You might think – what have you done wrong by staying silent? You didn’t say anything negative, you didn’t put down or criticize. The Torah is teaching this important lesson. The lack of positive reinforcement, the failure to offer a compliment or say something nice, can be just as demoralizing as negative speech, or sometimes even worse. One bird atones for saying the wrong thing, and the other sacrifice, equally important, atones for remaining silent and failing to say the right thing.

The garment that atoned for speech specifically had bells because the answer to wrong speech is not to remain silent, rather it is to use the power of speech to positively impact people’s lives. Our compliments should ring like bells, our appreciation, recognition, admiration, and positive words should reverberate like chimes. Being positive should be the default and be effortless, not the opposite.

If we want to inspire our spouse, our children, co-workers, or friends, they will respond much more positively to positive words than to criticism and reproach. A Harvard Business Review article asked – Which is more effective in improving team performance: using positive feedback to let people know when they’re doing well, or offering constructive comments to help them when they’re off track? 

Obviously, as Torah Jews, we believe in both. We don’t engage in false flattery, and we do subscribe to the mitzvah of tochecha, sometimes giving rebuke or reproof. The question isn’t which, the real question is in what proportion?

The article quotes researchers who studied sixty leadership teams and measured them based on profitability, customer satisfaction, and 360-degree feedback ratings of the team members. They found the factor that made the greatest difference between the most and least successful teams was the ratio of positive comments (“I agree with that,” for instance, or “That’s a terrific idea,”) to negative comments (“I don’t agree with you,” “We shouldn’t even consider doing that”) that the participants expressed to one another.

The average ratio for the highest-performing teams was 5.6 (that is, nearly six positive comments for every negative one). The medium-performance teams averaged 1.9 (almost twice as many positive comments than negative ones.) But the average for the low-performing teams, at 0.36 to 1, was almost three negative comments for every positive one.

They concluded that the ideal ratio of positive feedback to negative, to have the most effective, motivated, and inspired teams is 5.6 to 1.

The Chasam Sofer suggests that Hashem understood the importance of offering positive words and compliments in getting the most out of the people around you.

Speak to those wise and talented artisans and tell them: “Asher meelaisiv ruach chochmah.” Tell them that they are people who are filled with a Godly wisdom. Give them that positive reinforcement… And if you do that and give them encouragement then, “Vasu es bigdei Aharon l’kadsho l’chahano li.” – Then they will be able to accomplish and create great things, the clothes of the Kohen Gadol.

Compliments matter. They motivate people to continue doing the right things they are doing and to grow more. They show appreciation and draw people closer. Dr. John Gottman has spent his career studying healthy marriages and has scientifically identified the behaviors that contribute to dysfunctional ones. He can spend a short time with a couple and predict with over 90% accuracy if they will still be married in 5 years from that point.

He found that the single biggest determinant to a happy and healthy marriage is the ratio of positive to negative comments the partners make to one another. And the optimal ratio is amazingly similar—five positive comments for every negative one. For those who ended up divorced, the ratio was 0.77 to 1—or something like three positive comments for every four negative ones.

What is true for leadership teams is true for marriage and is true in parenting. On a given day, we say stop procrastinating from doing your homework, pick up your shoes, stop fighting. But how often do we say, you were playing so nicely, thank you for doing that without being asked, good job carrying your plate to the sink, or I love the way you are so loyal to your friends. Constructive criticism, feedback, honest feelings are all important and necessary, but for healthy marriages and motivated children, they need to remain at a ratio of one time for every five compliments or positive things.

Finally, be sincere with your compliment, and don’t exaggerate or go overboard. Be specific: “I admire way they handled a situation, I am impressed by your patience or generosity, I appreciate the delicious meal or the wonderful way you interacted with the children.”  Be creative, look to compliment, offer a positive word and it will bring out the best in others and make you feel good about yourself.

We don’t have to wait for March 1 to make it compliment day. Before the end of the day, offer the people you love at least five compliments or positive words for any negative feedback you might give. If you need help, you can always ask where they got their earrings.

Our local mall has a new store called Selfie World.  What do they sell?  They don’t sell merchandise or even a service.  They sell the opportunity for you to pose in front of one of their backdrops to take the best selfies in the world. You can’t make this up. An entire business, indeed a franchise, all designed to profit off the modern urge for selfies.

Our Parsha contains the decalogue, the holy aseres ha’dibros that command us to focus on a different self: אָֽנֹכִ֖י֙ ה׳ אֱלֹק֔יךָ אֲשֶׁ֧ר הוֹצֵאתִ֛יךָ מֵאֶ֥רֶץ מִצְרַ֖יִם מִבֵּ֣ית עֲבָדִ֑ים. “I, Hashem, am your God who brought you out of the land of Egypt, the house of bondage.”

Rav Sa’adya Gaon asserts that all six hundred and thirteen mitzvos are contained in these ten, and that these ten are all contained in the opening commandment, and the entire opening commandment is contained within the opening word – anochi, I. All of Halacha, all the mitzvos, the entire system of Torah is a platform to promote an awareness of, and connection with, Hashem. 

Our day is regulated by many mitzvos: we wake up and daven, we go to work and are expected to be honest, we are careful with what we eat, to make a beracha before we do, to avoid gossip, to learn Torah, volunteer, give tzedakah, and so on.  Our day is filled with countless Jewish activities.  But at their core, at the center of it all, is the Ribono Shel Olam waving at us and saying, Anochi – Hi!  Here I am! Notice Me, connect with Me, turn to Me, lean on Me, be appreciative to Me, be frustrated with Me, just recognize I am here. I not only know about your life, I am intimately involved and invested in you and in your life.   

Later, when Moshe delivers his final monologue to the people and recounts the seminal moments of the people’s short history until that point, of course he reviews the experience of Matan Torah.  But before he recounts the iconic words of the Ten Commandments, he reminds the people that he stood between them and Hashem and he was Hashem’s agent to deliver His Torah.

אָ֠נֹכִי עֹמֵ֨ד בֵּין־ה׳ וּבֵֽינֵיכֶם֙ “I stood between Hashem and you.  The Ba’al Shem Tov homiletically suggested that we read this pasuk, “anochi omeid,” do you know what stands between a person and Hashem?  “Anochi,” the person’s sense of self, their ego, their “I,” their insatiable appetite for literal and metaphorical selfies.

Someone once wrote the Lubavitcher Rebbe a letter that said the following: “I am in a state of sadness. I wake up each morning dreading the day ahead. I find that nothing lifts the clouds of gloom. I try various distractions, but nothing seems to work. I pray, but inspiration does not come. I need the rabbi’s help and advice.”

The Rebbe sent him a brilliant reply without using a single word. He simply circled the first word of each sentence of the letter and sent it back. The word was “I.”

The second of the ten commandments decrees that we must not have any other god.  The Gemara (Shabbos 105b) asks which alien, foreign god lives among you that you are instructed to avoid?  The Gemara answers, the yetzer ha’rah, the ego, the inflated and distorted sense of self, the urge and drive to only care about our happiness, our pleasure, our material possessions, our honor, to live for selfies.  Serving our Anochi gets in the way of serving His Anochi. 

Is our life informed by the true and authentic Anochi, Hashem, or the alien Anochi, the foreign god, the idol found inside us?  Do we measure our lives by His Anochi, His expectations of us, or by our Anochi, what we want to do, what brings us fleeting pleasure?

The difference of which Anochi we are serving is the difference between meaning and emptiness, happiness and disappointment, serenity and anger, contentment and jealousy. The source of almost every argument we have is the worship of our Anochi, the unchecked ego.  It incites our jealousy and envy of others, it inflames our anger, it generates impatience, it fuels lust and desire, it drives us to pursue honor.  This Anochi that stands between us and Hashem, while it feels so familiar, so comfortable and catering to it comes so naturally, it is our biggest enemy, it causes us to self-sabotage and to forfeit the joy and meaning that is so available, if only we would turn in one Anochi for another. 

Instead of Selfie World, let’s make a world filled with selflessness, love and faith in Hashem.

Non-human mammals get what we call goosebumps, the constriction of skin surrounding hair follicles, when they feel threatened or attacked. Only human beings get goosebumps for a different feeling: awe. Awe is the feeling of being in the presence of greatness, of being exposed to that which is transcendent or extraordinary. 

I will never forget the goosebumps and feeling of awe I felt when I first heard shiur from Mori V’Rabi, Rav Schachter, at YU twenty-seven years ago.  His encyclopedic knowledge, capacity to weave together sources from the width and breadth of Torah, his stamina to give shiur daily for two hours straight without so much as a pause, a hesitation or a need to think, simply blew me away.  Without exaggeration, I vividly remember often getting goosebumps in shiur, the result of feeling I was in the presence of someone extraordinary. 

Being in Rav Schachter’s shiur then, and continuing to listen and learn from him ever since, has not only giving me access to an enormous wellspring of Torah, it provides something else that is special and critically important: contact with, and access to, greatness. 

The Navi (Yeshayahu 30:20) teaches, “V’hayu einecha ro’os es morecha, Your eyes shall see your teachers.” Though the pasuk is talking about God, our rabbis have interpreted it as an encouragement to look at and see the face of our great Torah teachers.  Watching a righteous and great person can be life-changing.  This was the case for Elisha after he came in contact with Eliyahu. Reish Lakish was changed forever after meeting Rav Yochanan (See Bava Metzia 84a).  The Talmud (Eruvin 13b) quotes Rebbe Yehudah HaNasi who said, “I was sharper in Torah study than my friends because I saw Rabbi Meir from behind, and had I seen him from the front I would have been even sharper.”

Boca Raton Synagogue has been hosting Rav and Rebbetzin Schachter for many years, enabling and inviting our community to be exposed to greatness and the opportunity to get goosebumps.  As the years have passed, our awe has not dulled, it has only grown.  We were privileged to host Rav Schachter last Shabbos and it was our best one yet. 

I recorded some highlights to serve as personal inspiration for me, and I’m sharing them here so you can get goosebumps too:

·      Stamina: Rav Schachter celebrated his 80^th birthday this year, bli ayin harah.  When others are slowing down, or retiring altogether, he seems to only be picking up.  Traveling, being hosted by others, and being “on” for days at a time can be exhausting, leaving many scholars in residence only willing to speak a few times on their visit.  By contrast, Rav Schachter asks us to line up as many opportunities as possible, from the moment he lands until he leaves, to maximize his Torah teaching and justify his leaving Yeshiva.  On this trip, aside from his shiur on Thursday night delivered soon after he arrived, he spoke seven times on Friday and six times over Shabbos and Motzei Shabbos.  His energy, clarity, and comprehensiveness were as strong in the last slot of the day as the first.  His strength and stamina that come from his love for and commitment to teaching Torah are simply mindboggling.

·      Mindfulness: The Zohar (3:29a) says that Talmidei Chachamim, Torah scholars, are called “Shabbos.”  In his Menuchas Ha’Nefesh, Rav Chaim Friedlander explains that our righteous scholars are able to experience Shabbos all week long because they are in a perpetual state of focus, of not being connected to that which distracts or diverts attention and mindfulness.  One of the most impressive things about Rav Schachter is his capacity to be fully immersed and engrossed in whatever he is doing at that moment.  There were countless people lined up to speak to him after each presentation and he gave each of them, including many young children, his full attention, making them each feel like the most important person in the world at that moment.  It didn’t matter if it was late at night or he hadn’t yet made kiddush or eaten anything, he patiently waited until each had their turn, making them feel it was his privilege, not a burden.

·      Hasmadah: Most others with such a rigorous and grueling schedule would crave down time to recover or relax.  Rav Schachter’s version of down time is to learn diligently, fully taking advantage of every single moment to be further connected to Torah.  In between talks, after a long and exhausting day, or early in the morning, he can be found with a sefer, entirely absorbed in whatever he is learning in those moments.  On a previous visit, when Rav Schachter arrived I asked him how the flight went.  He answered, with complete sincerity, “It was great.  When I got to my seat, I opened my Gemara and the next thing I knew, they announced we were landing.  I didn’t realize we had taken off.”  Another time he had a very early flight to go home.  I came out to make sure he was awake and found him in my study engrossed in a teshuva of the Nodah B’Yehudah.   Yes, Rav Schachter is blessed with a brilliant mind and supernatural memory, but make no mistake, his greatness in Torah is the result of his hard work and tenacity.

·      Davening: I have always felt that a measure of whether someone’s Torah knowledge is academic or abstract or rather has molded and shaped their character is the way they daven.  Though he knows Shas and poskim by heart, Rav Schachter davens slowly and methodically like he doesn’t know Hebrew well or it is his first time reading the words.  When he says he will daven for someone, be it family, talmidim, or complete strangers, he means it.  All those people are added the litany of names he thinks about each time he sincerely pours his heart out to the Ribono Shel Olam.  Each morning, he asked if we can leave twenty minutes before davening started so that he could have a fifteen-minute head start in order to reach Borchu at the same time as everyone else.  Despite his enormous responsibilities, obligations, and packed schedule, when Rav Schachter davens, it is clear he has nowhere else to be, nothing else to be doing, and nothing else on his mind.  There is no sefer on his shtender, no looking around—he is completely locked in to the conversation he is having with Hashem.  When the Prayer for the courageous members of Tzahal was being said on Shabbos morning, I heard someone choking up.  It was Rav Schachter who doesn’t just say or hear those words, he feels them to his core and thinks about our heroic and valiant soldiers and their wellbeing. 

·      Humility:  Rav Schachter is a world-famous Rosh Yeshiva and Talmid Chacham and an incredibly sought-after Posek deciding halacha for OU Kashrus and countless other organizations, efforts, and individuals.  And yet, he is enormously humble, modest, and unpretentious.  Over his Shabbos here, he put the same energy and effort into his meeting with middle school boys and with the Vaad HaRabbonim, the same passion came across in his Dvar Torah to Avos U’Banim and his shiur to the advanced Chabura.  When we walked out of the Tisch late Friday night and had taken a few steps past the entrance, Rav Schachter stopped, turned back and made sure to greet and thank the security guard who was still on duty.  When the guard saw the “big rabbi” who was visiting the shul took a moment to acknowledge him, it was clear from the smile on his face how much it had made his day.  Rav Schachter inquired about a 97-year-old member of ours and when I explained that he hasn’t yet been back to Shul, he suggested we go visit, which we did on Motzei Shabbos.  Those few minutes didn’t just give enormous chizuk to our beloved member, they inspired me deeply.

I offer this incomplete profile in greatness not because Rav Schachter needs it or would even enjoy it, quite the opposite.  Rather, I share it to capture and communicate how blessed we should feel to have a rebbe and leader worthy of our awe and how grateful we are for a Shabbos that left us with goosebumps.