Neve Shaanan is a secular suburb of Haifa, popular with the
leftist, anti-religious element of the city's society. Haifa
-- the very name conjures up repulsive images of restaurants
selling treif meat, buses running on Shabbos, the
smell of barbecues on Yom Kippur night. Who would have
believed that in this sea of secularism, the light of Torah
could begin to make deep inroads?
Yet unpredictably, a spiritual revolution is slowly taking
place.
It began with a small evening program in the yeshiva
gedolah of the area: Nachlas Haleviim.
Somehow word of the kollel erev got around and, young
and old, people began coming. Mostly these were business
men, highly educated intellectuals who were drawing close to
Torah and recognized that a few hours of learning after work
would immeasurably enrich their lives.
Many who had come just to study soon found that their
priorities were changing. They now understood the importance
of securing a Torah education for their children, and
helping them find appropriate Torah institutions became part
and parcel of the task of the kollel staff. These
rabbonim, educated in Yiddishkeit from birth, were
astounded by the sacrifices made by those newly returning to
Torah.
But most amazing was seeing the youngsters who found their
way in. In their late teens or early twenties, slick-haired
with bright T-shirts (and maybe an earring or two), they
would drive up in their trucks and jeeps and come inside;
whether to actually learn or even just to listen in. There
was no commitment yet, just an attraction like metal to a
magnet. The warmth and richness they apparently felt in the
atmosphere was something their high-speed secular lives
could not provide.
It became clear that a more comprehensive program was needed
for these boys in order to turn their sporadic visits into a
lasting commitment to a Torah way of life. And so, with this
in mind, Yeshivas Rinas Aharon was set up. Without means,
without a building -- but with a vision.
At first it was a handful of boys. One was young Nati who
was still before his army service. A firebrand, musically
talented and clever, he was a popular guy in the
"chevrah." How hard it was for him to leave the
modern world behind and begin to build his life anew! But
his yearning was strong and he eventually pulled along with
him so many others.
Yigal was studying engineering at the Technion but he would
come with his friends for a sweet taste of a higher world.
He came at first just once a week. One day, while driving on
the highway at high speed, he smashed into a bus that was
out of its lane. The entire car crumpled up but he was
thrown from the wreckage and landed on the road.
He relates how, when he regained consciousness, the first
words that came to mind were "Shenayim ochazim
betallis!"The first gemora that he had learned at
Rinas Aharon reviewed itself in entirety in his mind while
he lay on the road, still in shock.
When he finally got to his feet and found himself to be
miraculously still in one piece, despite the utterly smashed
up car, he knew with a startling clarity what was the
essence of life. He became a full-time student in the new
Yeshiva Rinas Aharon.
Danny, son of one of the top judges in the North of Israel,
found his way into the Yeshiva where he was encouraged to
attend a seminar. He left with a firm resolve to live a
Torah life. But all was not so simple. His parents were even
more firmly resolved not to let this continue -- after all,
they had mapped out his career from the cradle.
He yielded to their pressure and left the Yeshiva. But no
longer did he find any pleasure in the secular way of life.
He persevered and struggled and against all odds he found
his way back "home" to the security and wise guidance of his
Torah teachers at Rinas Aharon.
And so, slowly but surely, the benches of the Yeshiva filled
up. It became urgent to find new and bigger premises.
In a quiet corner of Neve Shaanan, down in a valley
overlooking the Haifa Port and the Mediterranean beyond,
stands a small shul. Its name is Beth Knesseth Baba
Sali. Its golden years seemed to be coming to an end. The
Moroccan community it had served was reaching an advanced
age and its numbers were dwindling. Unfortunately, their
children and grandchildren have left the religious way of
life and shul-going was no longer in their schedules.
But the shul's old rabbi still prayed for a
revival.
When he met with the staff of the fledgling yeshiva in
search of premises, he began to believe that his prayers
would be realized. With hope and joy he gave permission for
the beth knesseth to be used for Torah shiurim
between Tefillos. Yeshiva Rinas Aharon moved in and the
walls began to resound with the sound of Torah. As an added
bonus there was now a minyan for every
tefillah.
Meals were served and shiurim delivered morning,
afternoon, and evening. But this was not enough. Many of the
boys had to battle with parents or siblings in order to come
and learn. All of them had to battle with their own lesser
desires to return to their former habits, be it gambling,
drinking, or Haifa's nightlife. Even after returning from
seminars determined to start afresh, as soon as they went
back home and met once again with old friends, they re-
encountered all the old struggles and pitfalls.
It was decided to build additional rooms at the back of the
beth knesseth to provide a dormitory for the boys,
for only without disturbing outside influences could they
truly absorb the atmosphere of the Yeshiva.
During the final stages of the dormitories' completion,
Ronny's father, who was not yet religious at the time, came
to see how things were progressing. Out of respect he donned
his Yom Kippur cappel before entering. He looked at
the rooms, then took out a measuring tape saying that he
intended to outfit the new rooms with all the necessary
furniture. "You saved my son," he said with tears in his
eyes by way of explanation. "Ronny was hanging out with the
worst elements of society, and we feared where it would lead
him. Having been drawn to Rinas Aharon is the best thing
that could have happened to him. You've saved his life."
With the help of Hashem, the dormitory was completed and the
boys moved into their new home.
Each stage in Rinas Aharon's growth brings with it new
problems both big and small. But watching the boys grow in
Torah and yiras Shomayim makes it all worthwhile.
Slowly their personalities develop as their lives become
filled with true purpose.
Doron has been in the Yeshiva for almost a year now. Always
soft-spoken and pleasant in his manner, he has now channeled
his natural discipline into following the halacha in
every detail. Rosh Hashanah midday, after a long
davening, he arrived home to find that his mother had
warmed up his dinner -- and it was Shabbos. He excused
himself and ran the two kilometers to the home of Rinas
Aharon's rosh yeshiva. "I don't know what to do," he
explained breathlessly when he arrived. "It's not that I
can't manage without eating, but I don't want to hurt my
mother by refusing the food unless that's what the halachah
truly requires."
On Yom Kippur, the boys' feelings came to the fore. As they
stood before Hashem, each truly pleaded to have his past
erased and to be given a new chance at life. A peak of
emotions was reached when after the Shemoneh Esrei of
Ne'ilah, the Rov banged on the bimah. "It is already
nightfall," he declared. "Until now we had to rush to reach
mincha before sunset. Now we have no limits, we can
give ourselves completely over to our prayers.
"At the beginning of a battle, the soldiers use ammunition
sparingly in case they will need it later. As the battle
draws to a close, however, and the army is about to win,
they use all their arms, fire everything they can at the
enemy -- they are just about to conquer. Open your hearts
and storm the heavens!"
His words entered the hearts of all those present. Ne'ilah
continued with a new surge of emotion. The tefillah
was completed an hour after nightfall.
Yeshiva Rinas Aharon, on the side of a large valley, stands
opposite the Serret-Vizhnitz neighborhood which is up the
mountain on the other side. Just recently the Yeshiva was
visited by a respected member of the Serret-Vizhnitz
community.
"I came to see with my own eyes this place where the light
of Torah burns in the beth medrash until two a.m. in
the morning," he explained. "Until now, we were used to the
warbling sounds of Arabs praying in the wadi. To hear the
song of Torah here is something new."
Just as in the days of the Chashmonaim, the fire of Torah is
steadily lighting up the darkness. May Hashem bless the
efforts of all of those who proclaim His Name in this world
and may we merit the true light of the Geula Sheleimoh
bemiheiroh beyomeinu Omein.
N.B. Certain details of time, place, and names have been
changed in order to protect the privacy of those
involved.
