| |||
|
IN-DEPTH FEATURES
Introduction: Twilight
The opening decades of the twentieth century saw the
emergence in Germany of a cadre of dedicated young rabbonim
of native birth and training. They undertook the leadership
of kehillos across their country, attempting to
contain and reverse the ravages of many years of
predominantly Reform influence on what in past centuries had
been a glorious Jewish national center.
They did what they had to do. They could not shirk their
responsibilities towards their fellow Jews in their own
lands. However, it was basically a lost cause. For the most
part, where there was no apostasy or assimilation, there was
crass ignorance. Even the hope that remained for salvaging a
remnant through elementary education, was soon snuffed out
by the systematic persecution which began in the nineteen
thirties, whose escalation led to the flight of the majority
and which culminated in the extermination of those who
remained.
The responsibility towards those who needed their spiritual
guidance that had led these rabbonim to their posts, kept
them there until the very end. When the ax finally fell,
some succeeded miraculously in escaping straight away.
Others stayed and suffered, escaping only later, while
others perished.
Of necessity, their mission to their community was pushed
aside in the struggle to survive and subsequently, to settle
in new surroundings. After having reached safe havens,
however, these individuals, living repositories of a
heritage, must have asked themselves whether they would find
any vehicle for perpetuating their community's uniqueness,
or whether they were to be the last link in its chain?
In A New World
If we today, sixty years later, had to determine which of
these possibilities has been realized, our response would
have to be: hardly the first, yet certainly not the
second.
A vehicle for perpetuating their community's uniqueness did
not materialize because in order to be transmitted, a
communal heritage needs both a leader who gives it over and
a community to receive it. The distinctive character of a
community that cannot bring forth its own spiritual
leadership from within is at risk. On the other hand,
however, great spiritual leaders may exist yet be unable to
pass on their distinctive legacy because they have no
clearly delineated community to receive it from them.
The leitmotif of the modern German Orthodox
kehillos was participation in the general life of the
surrounding society, while maintaining separation in
spiritual affairs. In postwar New York and London, where the
society was predominantly gentile, this situation could be --
and was -- duplicated. However, translated into the
conditions of the developing new yishuv in Eretz
Yisroel, where the entire society was Jewish, the customary
pattern of life of the German Jews made them far less likely
than others to form their own groups.
There was little chance of them creating distinct pockets of
population, as other religious groups did, each identifying
with its own leader or particular ideal, that gave it a
distinct character and set it apart from others. (The
agricultural settlements affiliated with P.A.I. that were
founded and populated by German olim were not really
exceptions to this rule. Although they certainly were
distinct geographical communities, they did not remain so in
a spiritual or cultural sense.)
Yet German Jewry has not disappeared into the Jewish melting
pot. One of the means by which the scattered flock was
reunited with its leaders was Yeshivas Kol Torah. Within the
walls of this yeshiva gedolah, HaRav Mertzbach and
his colleagues taught, guided and inspired new generations
of bnei Torah, thereby transmitting their community's
heritage to both those talmidim whose families had
once been part of German communities, as well as to those
whose roots lay in different communities.
HaRav Yonah Mertzbach zt'l, was the quintessential
German rov, in whom true gadlus beTorah and
deep emunah and bitochon were combined with
righteousness, humility, a clear, straight mind and
unswerving honesty. His broad, all encompassing Torah
knowledge was put to good use.
Besides the daily shiurim which he delivered in Kol
Torah, the breadth and depth of his Torah knowledge led to
his becoming a central figure in the redaction of the
Encyclopedia Talmudica. He was also renowned as an
authority on the Hebrew grammar and language, and also on
the authentic German minhagim. His faith in Hashem
that sustained him through many trials and tribulations, was
the source of a deep joy in Torah and mitzvos that was
continually visible on him. He humbled himself before all
other Torah sages, and they regarded him as a true
tzaddik.
While the story of HaRav Mertzbach's life and character
deserve to be considered at much greater length, we present
here just one chapter of the story, an account of the final
period in Germany and his arrival in Eretz Yisroel. It was a
bleak period of transition that marked the midpoint in his
life (chronologically as well as geographically) but there
is much in it that is symbolic of his life as a whole.
Although Darmstadt in Germany, where he was rov, and the
budding new yishuv in Yerushalayim were two worlds,
they both played a crucial role in both periods of his life.
Throughout his years in Germany his abiding love of Eretz
Yisroel expressed itself in many ways and, after having
settled in Yerushalayim, he continued to experience the
tragedy of his community, to the end of his days.
We present this article to mark HaRav Mertzbach's twentieth
yahrtzeit, which was a month ago on the eighteenth of
Tishrei 5761 (which was also three days before the hundredth
anniversary of his birth). We are now closer however, to
what might be considered the central theme of this
particular article, the infamous Kristallnacht, which
took place sixty-two years ago, on the sixteenth of
Marcheshvon 5699. This account of the last years and the
flight from Germany is interspersed with excerpts from a
poem which HaRav Mertzbach composed in honor of the bar
mitzva of his son, Aharon Shmuel, which was celebrated
in Yerushalayim.
Beginning of the End
"There, far away, you were born, Aharon,/ There, in the
diaspora, in the kingdom of the north./ There, for many
generations, your parents' ancestors led lives of Torah,
mitzvos and nobility of character, / There they acquired
their portion in Olom Haboh,/ As they guarded what
was holy, while living in an unclean land."
Jewish communal life in Germany, which was wonderfully
organized with numerous institutions and endeavors, received
a stunning blow when the Nazis assumed power in Germany on
the third of Shevat 5693 (January 30, 1933).
To begin with, the new rulers kept their murderous ambitions
in the background. They merely made arrests and established
concentration (i.e. internment) camps. Darmstadt, the city
where HaRav Mertzbach was then rav, was the first city in
the country where the Nazis closed all Jewish shops for an
entire day, on the twenty-eighth of March -- less than two
months after seizing power. Their pretext was that the
opening of the Jewish stores, "endangered communal order and
tranquility."
Two days later, the authorities announced a boycott of all
German Jews but this was rescinded after only two more days
had elapsed because of the damage which the Germans
themselves suffered as a result. From this time on though,
the German Jews' status was eroded gradually and they were
eventually deprived of their livelihoods.
The government's decrees grew more and more oppressive and
the Jews felt the noose tightening. Often, the German
chareidim had to fight a double battle for their survival:
against the Nazi's undermining of their material well-being
on the one side, and (even in those days) against the plots
of the Reform establishment to capitalize on the upheavals
in communal life in order to further uproot Torah and
mitzvah observance.
One consequence of the Nazi ideology which called for the
Jews to be ejected from the German nation, was the complete
segregation between Jewish school children and their German
counterparts. The authorities encouraged, and even
contributed financially towards, the opening of separate
Jewish schools.
This was the opportunity for HaRav Mertzbach to realize a
long-dreamed-of ambition. He put a great deal of energy into
setting up an excellent school. One example of his original
approach to teaching secular disciplines are the
mathematical exercises which he designed which are all based
on various mitzvos, such as calculating the correct height
of the mezuza on the doorpost.
The Reform community were also forced to send their children
to a Jewish school. However in Darmstadt they were too few
in number to open their own institution. The National Board
of German Jews, an umbrella organization which represented
the various streams of German Jewry to the gentile
authorities, tried to solve the problem of the Reform Jewish
pupils of Darmstadt by proposing the establishment of a
United Jewish School for all Jewish pupils that would
subsume HaRav Mertzbach's school. The Board controlled all
the school budgets and financial pressure was thus brought
to bear.
HaRav Mertzbach fought valiantly against this plan. He
realized that changes would be made to the program of
studies to bring it into line with the Reform ideology. The
National Union of Orthodox Congregations lent him its
support in his struggle and threatened to independently
approach Jewish donors abroad who supported the Board and,
if necessary, even to approach the Government.
As a result, the Reformers leaned towards accepting the
Orthodox program of study and merely asked that the head of
the school's board should be one of their people. Under no
circumstances would HaRav Mertzbach agree to this however.
Seeing that they would not achieve their designs in this
way, the Reformers retracted their demands on the Orthodox
school and opened a small institution of their own.
Recalling those times, HaRav Aharon Shmuel Mertzbach writes,
"It is hard for anyone who did not experience it, to imagine
how it was in the period after the Nazis assumed power. The
tochochos of both Bechukosai and Ki
Sovo were fulfilled: "In the evening you will say,
`Would that it were morning,' and in the morning you will
say, `Would that it were evening.' " There was constant
fear, every minute, every hour and every day. Arrests,
deportation to detention camps (they were not yet death
camps), and more. German neighbors with whom one had lived
for years, and even for generations, became persecutors and
enemies. Warning signs, `No Entrance To Jews And Dogs'
appeared in shops, on public transport and in public areas.
There was open animosity on the part of municipal and
general authorities, on the part of the Catholic priests and
believers. There were threats wherever one turned and the
main thing was the fear and dread of what lay ahead, without
the slightest hope for better times."
Unswerving Faith Amid Growing Hardship
As well as the Jews who lived in Darmstadt, HaRav Mertzbach
also tended to the smaller communities in the region. His
son writes, "The Jews living in the outlying areas were in
an even worse position than those in the cites. Many of them
left the country and such communities closed down one after
another." HaRav Mertzbach was involved in the halachic
aspect of these changes and he often had to represent the
kehillos before the authorities in making
arrangements for the future care of empty botei
knesses and Jewish graveyards. He circulated the
relevant halochos of tefillah to those who
remained in places where there was no longer a
minyan.
"Students dropped out of universities, without any future,
tradesmen and businessmen lost their livelihoods and had no
present or future means of supporting themselves. Families
were broken up and scattered to all ends of the earth as
they emigrated to any country that opened its doors, if they
found one."
HaRav Mertzbach's steadfast and perfect faith in Hakodosh
Boruch Hu supported him through these and other
difficult times. He was able to fire those around him from
the torch of his own faith so that they too, trusted fully
in Hashem. He viewed all the events of the times in the
light of his faith and he would always point out that the
hand that was dealing harshly with them was Hashem's. His
belief in what had been foretold for Klal Yisroel was
tangible, to the point where, for example, upon hearing
about any war that broke out, he feared lest it was the war
of Gog and Mogog. Concerning these times he wrote in his
poem to his son,
"You know, my son, you know that this is a time of
troubles,/ . . . such as has never been before./ Nobody
knows what will happen yet today./ We hoped for rescue, our
eyes were raised to Heaven,/ [For] people are worthless,
there is no salvation in them./ The only one upon whom we
can depend is our Father in Heaven./ Remember this all your
life, Aharon,/ Place your trust in Hashem, not in hopes of
what humans will do./ Whether your paths be illuminated, or
whether in darkness,/ Trust in Hashem, direct your hopes to
Him, with all your heart,/ [For] He is the one who shifts
times, rolling darkness away before light./ He will not
forsake his pious ones, He will guard their steps."
Devotion to Mitzvos
Among the Nazis' first decrees was the prohibition of
slaughtering animals without first stunning them. Following
this, the authorities invoked various legalities to prevent
the import of kosher meat from outside Germany. They would
not even permit shechitoh for the elderly and the
sick. There was a real danger that tens of thousands of
Jews would be unable to withstand the trial and would begin
consuming neveilos and tereifos.
In these circumstances, a number of rabbonim wanted to find
an halachic way to permit stunning, in order to prevent
widespread transgression of Torah prohibitions. HaRav
Mertzbach was one of the rabbonim who firmly opposed such a
step.
In a teshuvah dealing with this question, he explains
that every animal that has been stunned by the
administration of an electric shock is halachically
considered as being mortally ill (tereifoh) since it
is no longer able to stand. There are varying opinions about
whether it is possible to permit such an animal, even after
shechitoh, on the basis of twitching that indicates
that it was alive while being slaughtered. The
teshuvah ends with the following declaration: "As the
rov of a large area, which includes many villages . . . [my
opinion is that] a permit to stun before slaughtering should
not be mentioned, for general reasons. The many householders
who have already eaten neveilos and tereifos,
R'l, will not repent their ways, whereas each butcher
and shochet will [now] allow himself to slaughter
after stunning. If shechitoh will now be permitted
everywhere, many upright people, who until now have eaten
imported kosher meat, will buy meat anywhere, without
checking up on the shochet and will end up eating
neveilos and tereifos, for even accredited
shochtim will not keep all the conditions upon which
we make the hetter dependent. The hetter will
be a bigger stumbling block than the one that exists as a
result of the government's prohibition, for it will
infiltrate homes where kashrus has been kept properly
hitherto."
HaRav Mertzbach warns, "A further misfortune should be
pointed out if we permit this. Everybody will say that there
is a way to permit everything, if only the circumstances are
pressing enough and the pressure is causing us harm. They
will be lenient in every area of Torah and the rabbonim will
no longer be able to stand against the people who want to
act leniently in everything."
Later, HaRav Mertzbach discussed the importing of frozen
meat with HaRav Chaim Ozer Grodzensky zt'l, who
permitted it, in view of the difficult situation. HaRav
Mertzbach himself did not avail himself of this
hetter and until they arrived in Eretz Yisroel some
six years later, neither he nor his family tasted any
meat.
Rav A. S. Mertzbach recalls that the troubles were not
allowed to interfere with any observance of any other areas
of halochoh at home either. Women for example,
travelled long distances to reach mikvo'os.
In HaRav Mertzbach's home, the succah was erected on
a balcony and a complaint was immediately registered for his
"failure to comply with building plans." The Rov had to pay
a fine and was required to take the succah down
"within eight days" (in the words of the verdict). When the
succah was put up the following year, an organized
protest was held and the family took it down during the
festival. They moved to a succah in the yard but were
again disturbed. Subsequently, they made a succah in
the enclosed courtyard of the beis haknesses, where
they hosted other Jews who were unable to build
succas of their own.
The Rov continued delivering all his regular droshos
in the beis haknesses. However, out of fear of the
Gestapo, his message sometimes had to be conveyed by means
of allusion, through quotes, or translations of statements
of Chazal. One especially memorable droshoh included
the tefillah of King Chizkiyohu (Hashem Elokei
Yisroel) and its German translation. Many of the
listeners had tears in their eyes.
Flight
It is one of the unfathomable secrets of Hashgocho
that the Nazi demon came to power and persecuted the Jews of
Germany for six years before embarking on the wholesale
destruction of the Jewish people. The steadily worsening
state of affairs in their country led a majority of German
Jews to leave in time, while the Jews of other countries in
Western and Eastern Europe, who felt themselves to be in no
immediate danger, stayed put until the foe alighted upon
them swiftly and destroyed most of them, Hy'd.
Most of the Jews of Germany survived. Approximately three
hundred thousand Jews left Germany before the war and
another hundred and fifty thousand managed to escape after
the war started, whereas approximately one hundred and sixty
thousand perished in concentration and forced labor
camps.
From Germany, Jews emigrated to a number of places, though
on the whole it was hard to find countries of asylum. Some
fled to the neighboring lands. Others crossed the oceans, to
North or South America, Canada or Australia. The third and
main emigration was aliya to Eretz Yisroel.
This generally required advance preparation. The youth, who
were the first ones to leave for Eretz Yisroel, studied
agriculture and modern Hebrew before they left. Most of the
work in this area was conducted by the Zionists, who tried
to attract Orthodox youth to their programs which were
obviously not suited to the Torah youth.
The chareidi movements set up hachsharah farms for
their youth to learn agriculture in preparation for moving
to Eretz Yisroel. HaRav Mertzbach assisted Agudas Yisroel in
setting up such a farm in Darmstadt and he acted as its
spiritual leader. Half the day was devoted to limudei
kodesh and the other half, to secular studies. HaRav
Mertzbach was involved with the institution during the four
years of its existence and he made a deep impression upon
the many youngsters who studied there, many of whom remained
firmly bound to him in the stormy years ahead.
A majority of the Jews of Darmstadt emigrated before the war
broke out. Out of the three thousand souls that were living
in the town when the Nazis came to power, some four hundred
were murdered in the war. Parting from those who were
leaving was hard, Rav A. S. Mertzbach recalls, but his
father always took leave personally from those who were
going and appealed to them to remain observant wherever they
settled.
Many later told Rav A. S. Mertzbach that thanks to his
father, they had remained steadfast in their faith and
succeeded in raising their children to follow the Torah path
in the Diaspora and in Eretz Yisroel.
One couple who was leaving for Eretz Yisroel came to the
Rov, asking him to countersign the various forms they had
filled in, to certify that all the details were correct. The
couple were childless yet, when he came to the section that
dealt with the number of children, and saw the word "None"
that they had entered, he took his pen, crossed it out and
in its place wrote, "Be'ezras Hashem there will be."
The couple reached Eretz Yisroel, where they had a son, for
whom HaRav Mertzbach later conducted kiddushin.
The Ax Falls
At the beginning of Marcheshvon 5699, the Nazi violence
escalated. On erev Shabbos parshas Noach, thousands
of Polish Jews who had immigrated to Germany were packed
into rail cars and taken away from Germany. Children were
snatched from their schools and fathers from their homes.
Entire families were devastated. In many cases, it was the
last time family members saw each other. The fields and
villages along the border were full of stranded refugees who
had neither money nor food, and to whom the Polish
government refused entry. Many of them had been living in
Germany for years but had never changed their
nationality.
Although he was suffering from a broken foot at the time,
HaRav Mertzbach went personally to those who had been
expelled from Darmstadt, to bid them farewell and to offer
them his encouragement. Despite his condition, he went to
great lengths in order to gather contributions and extend
aid to the refugees.
Less than a fortnight after the expulsion of Polish emigres,
the cup of suffering passed to the German Jews themselves.
From two o'clock a.m. on the night of the sixteenth of
Marcheshvon, until four o'clock the following afternoon, at
the word of the authorities, Nazi gangs went on the rampage
throughout Germany, mercilessly destroying botei
knesses and Jewish property (Kristallnacht). The
rioters were equipped with pickaxes, shovels and truncheons.
Those who had been assigned to deal with the synagogues
carried kerosene and explosives as well. Cars, trucks and
motorcycles brought the vandals to their destinations. They
carried printed lists of the addresses of every shop, office
and apartment that had been earmarked for sacking.
The sights of that day were appalling: botei knesses
going up in flames while firemen made sure that the
neighboring gentile homes would come to no harm; Jews boldly
leaping into tongues of flame in order to rescue sifrei
Torah; glass from shattered windowpanes covering the
sidewalks; shops and homes that had been broken into and
destroyed; a vicious and rabid mob, rejoicing at the sight
of all the devastation and looting whatever they could lay
their hands on; Jews being chased through the streets,
beaten and stabbed and then being thrown into ambulances and
police cars.
In his poem to his son, HaRav Mertzbach wrote,
"Hashem's anger burned because of our sins,/ He set the
fire alight and will surely pay./ You saw the flames that
burned the miniature sanctuary./ You saw the holy nation
imprisoned and looted./ You saw how they were scattered to
all corners of the earth,/ Your friends, our friends, the
Jewish communities."
Miracles Amid Mayhem
On that bitter morning, a Thursday, HaRav Mertzbach was
making his way to the beis haknesses for
shacharis. News had reached them the previous evening
of communities that were being attacked. As a precaution,
all the entrances to the beis haknesses had been
securely locked and a number of sifrei Torah had been
put in a metal box in the kehilloh's office. The
Nazis however, woke up the shammesh and demanded the
key of the beis haknesses so that they could enter to
ransack it.
The night before, realizing that he was in danger of being
arrested, HaRav Mertzbach had asked his son to copy the
notes of HaRav Dovid Tzvi Hoffman zt'l, which he had
in the margins of his Shas, into a small notebook
which he intended to take along with him. His wife packed a
valise with warm clothing.
Before arriving, the Rov was met by a Jew who warned him not
to continue lest he find himself in the lion's jaws. The
Nazis were setting fire to the beis haknesses and to
the other neighboring communal buildings and were arresting
the men. HaRav Mertzbach was not to be dissuaded. He sent
his children who were accompanying him straight home and he
hurried on. An apartment block stood in the courtyard of the
beis haknesses. It housed the shammesh of the
community and several elderly and poor individuals, as well
as the community's mikveh and the dormitory for the
youth of the hachsharah.
Upon his arrival, HaRav Mertzbach saw that tongues of flame
were already licking the building. The fire department stood
guard to make sure that the fire did not spread to the
neighboring gasoline station. He learned that there were
still sifrei Torah inside the beis haknesses
which the Nazis would not allow to be saved. He also heard
that all the inhabitants of the nearby apartments had left
the building, with the exception of one blind old lady who
was still trapped inside.
He begged the S.S. officer who was in charge of the burning
of the shul to allow the rescue of the sifrei
Torah and of the old lady. The officer agreed to let the
hachsharah members go in and bring out the sifrei
Torah and HaRav Mertzbach to take the lady to safety, on
condition that he present himself immediately afterwards
before the Gestapo (the Nazi secret police). HaRav Mertzbach
took the old lady to one of the Jewish homes and stayed
there himself, sitting and learning Torah, for he didn't
dare go back to turn himself in. A few hours later, the
Nazis, who were combing the area in search of Jewish men,
arrived at the house where he was hiding. They searched each
room but somehow missed the door to the room where HaRav
Mertzbach was.
HaRav Mertzbach spent the rest of that day driving around
town in a taxi to avoid being caught. Returning to his home
after dark that evening, he remained in hiding and did not
leave his home. His rebbetzin had to make all the
preparations for the family's escape, which was now
unavoidable.
When the family needed an exit permit, there was no choice
but for the Rov himself to go to the Gestapo. There he met
the officer who had supervised the burning of the beis
haknesses. The Nazi informed HaRav Mertzbach that for
having disobeyed an order of the Gestapo he was liable for
the death penalty, however, a special order had been given
by some higher authority that his life be spared and that he
be allowed to leave Germany. The reason for this `order,'
from the Germans' point of view, remained forever a puzzle
to HaRav Mertzbach.
In the days that followed, many family heads and youths were
arrested and sent to Dachau and Buchenwald. The remaining
family members were left destitute. The encouragement and
material support which both the Rov and his rebbetzin
extended to these families were incredible. A short time
later, jars containing the ashes of the deportees began to
arrive from the camps and their families were left to mourn
their bereavement and orphanhood. The oppressors even
demanded payment for the cremations and the shipment of the
remains!
"Of course, what happened then [in Germany] did not come
close to what the evildoers perpetrated during the Holocaust
in Eastern Europe," writes Rav A. S. Mertzbach. "In Germany
itself, they `maintained law and order.' The shock was
greater though, since the Jews of Germany had been part of
their country's economic life, its trade, its science and
its culture. All of a sudden, everything stopped and their
world lay in ruins around them. The situation of the
irreligious Jews was especially difficult. There was a wave
of suicides and even of teshuvah. All however mocked
the families of those who had converted or intermarried, for
they were also trapped by the evil decrees."
Remembering
That night is commonly referred to as Kristallnacht.
Its Hebrew translation is Leil Habedolach, and it is
usually rendered into English as The Night Of Broken
Glass. Few are aware, however, that this name was an
abbreviation of the name which the Nazis themselves gave to
the night of destruction. They called it Reichs
Kristallnacht, i.e. Kristallnacht of the Reich. As such,
that name should be shunned for use by Jews. HaRav
Mertzbach, who bore the scars of that night with him
forever, was shocked whenever he heard Jews innocently using
that name.
The chareidi historian Rabbi Betzalel Landau once used the
name in an article. Writing just after HaRav Mertzbach's
petirah, he recalled the Rov's response. "Just a year
ago, I received a postcard upon which he criticized my using
the name Leil Habedolach . . . because that name was
coined by the Nazis as an allusion to the extensive property
of the Jews, who used crystal (bedolach) vessels in
their homes. The burning of the botei knesses served
as a signal that the looting and murder that accompanied it
were sanctioned . . . "
HaRav Mertzbach found an authentically Jewish way of
commemorating the day. While he taught in Kol Torah, he
introduced the custom into the yeshiva of saying chapter 80
of Tehillim on the night of the sixteenth of
Marcheshvon, after ma'ariv. HaRav Mertzbach himself
would fast on that day and go to the Kosel Hama'arovi
and pray there.
In his first years in Eretz Yisroel, he would deliver a
hesped that day first in Beis Haknesses Chorev in
Rechavia and then in Kol Torah. A moving account of the
electrifying hesped which he gave the first year,
appeared in the chareidi newspaper Kol Yisroel.
Departure
While it was now perfectly clear that the family could no
longer remain in Germany, leaving behind what remained of
his kehilloh was not an easy step. Matters were
further complicated by the fact that HaRav Mertzbach had not
yet been successful in obtaining the necessary certificates
for entry into Eretz Yisroel, which was where he really
wanted to go, while visas had arrived for the family to
travel to the United States, where he had been offered a
well-paying position.
He had always borne a special love for Eretz Yisroel. Every
visitor and every piece of news from there was a special
event in HaRav Mertzbach's household. He had worked for
Agudas Yisroel's Keren Hayishuv. He was thus now
assailed by a fierce inner battle.
Could he abandon his community at such a time? On the other
hand, could he abandon his family and five small children in
order to stand by a community that was falling apart anyway?
And if they left, where should they go? To America, whose
gates were open to them but where spiritual dangers awaited
the children?
Ultimately, the certificates for Eretz Yisroel arrived and
the choice was made. To the end of his life however, HaRav
Mertzbach bore the tragedy of German Jewry, and of his own
kehilloh on his heart. He gave these feelings
expression in his poem to his son.
"I will sing today the song of my kehilloh./ How
goodly were its tents, extending like rivers./ Great was
its faith, many were the friends./ There you acquired the
beginning of wisdom and fear of Heaven./ Therefore, Aharon,
remember it forever."
Rav A. S. Mertzbach recalls, "When we made aliya, we
were asked by the Gestapo to provide them with a list of the
sifrei kodesh which we planned to take out of the
country. Since we were afraid that those seforim
towards which they bore hatred would be confiscated, we
arranged the seforim according to "subjects" and
translated their titles into German. For example, under the
heading "Biology" were Pnei Yehoshua and Atzmos
Yosef. Under "Cookery," Shulchan Oruch and so on.
It was very strange to read the titles of these sifrei
kodesh in German translation."
Four months after Kristallnacht, the family arrived
in Eretz Yisroel on Shushan Purim 5699 (1939), after a
journey full of tribulations. Every year at the Purim
seudoh, on the anniversary of the family's arrival in
Eretz Yisroel, HaRav Mertzbach would make a brochoh
over a special cup of wine and offer praises and thanks to
Hashem.
From the day he arrived in Eretz Yisroel, he refused to
leave it, even when asked by the yeshiva and by his own
talmidim to do so. He bore Yerushalayim a special
love and he viewed leaving it as suffering a spiritual
decline.
He also expressed his thanks to Hakodosh Boruch Hu in
his poem.
"What shall I give to Hashem in return for all His kind
dealings with me?/ I will thank Him for his kindness all my
days./ He brought us out whole from the lions' den,/ And
placed us in Eretz Tzvi, because of our ancestors'
righteousness./ I am small compared to the kindness which
You, Hashem have done for me,/ Thank Him forever, do not
forget this my son."
|
||
All material
on this site is copyrighted and its use is restricted. |