Only Building for Eternity
Rav Shaya Lustigman was a Yerushalmi baal mussar.
In his shmuessen, he would share a memory from his childhood during the Israeli War of Independence in 1948.
His family and their neighbors were displaced from their homes in the Old City of Yerushalayim when it was invaded by the Jordanians. They were sent to live in the neighborhood of Katamon, which had originally been inhabited by wealthy Arab businessmen and diplomats. The apartments there were spacious and well-furnished, with well-built closets, ornate bookcases and intricately carved tables and chairs. The new Jewish residents had never seen such luxuries in their lives.
The government divided up the apartments for the new arrivals to use, with each family allotted one room. The kitchen was shared by everyone in the apartment, and in general, the families were delighted with their living arrangements.
Since it was wartime, food was rationed, but there was enough to survive, and they were grateful that they had a secure roof over their heads.
But there was one problem: there was no gas available. Without gas, they could not cook food on the stove or heat water for bathing or laundry. The gas shortage presented a big challenge.
So it was that the children of Katamon would spend their time combing the surrounding areas for wood or branches to bring home for their families to use to light fires, over which they would heat their water or food. Eventually, the surrounding parks and gardens were stripped bare of available wood.
The residents realized there was no choice but to use the available furniture for firewood.
One day, an ornate armchair was dismantled, each family taking one leg to heat up their meal. The next day, it was the handsome bookcase from what had once been the parlor, and when there was nothing else remaining, the beds were taken apart, the posts divided up, and ignited.
“When it is a choice between hunger and custom-made canopy beds, the answer is clear,” Rav Shaya would recall. “We quickly learned just how little these luxuries were worth. It was a struggle for survival, and all the furniture we had found so beautiful when we arrived was soon taken apart to help us get through another day.”
He shared that, over the years, there had been times when he had been tempted to invest in one luxury or another (relative to what such Jews in Yerushalayim consider luxuries, of course). But whenever he was about to invest in a better sofa or a more comfortable chair, he remembered Katamon and the sight of a breakfront being dismantled for firewood.
“When a person sees clearly, there is no temptation, because the luxuries are not real. Food is necessary and clean clothing is important, but all that extravagance is empty and unfulfilling; it will get you nowhere.”
The goal of a Jew is to live an elevated life and to see the truth about luxuries that distract him from building his eternity. It is so sad when the drive that is central to a Jew’s ruchniyus growth is misunderstood and misused to satisfy a never-ending craving for more physical, temporal pleasure and growth.
The Torah tells us that Kayin’s wife bore him a son named Chanoch and that he called the city he was building after the name of his son. The word used by the Torah there (Bereishis 4:17) is “boneh” – building, in present tense, as opposed to “banah” – he built, in past tense. The Kli Yakar explains that the “ish ha’adamah” – the person focused solely on material gains – is never satisfied, even if he has a lot; that is why he is in a constant state of building and contemplating what should come next. But when one focuses on spiritual growth, on building what he will need for eternity, the desire for material growth dims and falls away.
Our goal should be to build and acquire – for our eternity.
(Rav Yaakov Bender on Chumash 2, Artscroll Publications, pages 37-39)
Take This Home
In the next Shemoneh Esrei you recite, stop for a minute during the berachah of “Atah chonein l’adam da’as,” and ask that Hashem grant you the wisdom to differentiate between what you really need and what is distracting you from your real goals in life.
In Short
Rav Matisyohu Salomon, Mashgiach of Beth Medrash Govoha, explains:
The passuk in Mishlei (31:25) (recited as part of Eishes Chayil) says, “Vatischak l’yom acharon” (she joyfully awaits the final day). But Vatischak can also mean “and she will laugh,” because if you focus on the proper goals in life, then on the last day of your life, you will be able to laugh.
It Happened to Me!
My Olam Haba Moment
I make time to exercise regularly for my health, despite my busy schedule, because I know it’s beneficial for both my physical and emotional well-being. Today, I realized that with a bit of forethought, I can upgrade what I’m doing anyway. I thought: I’m exercising so that I feel and function well and have the strength to serve Hashem by caring for my family.
M.W.
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