I'm considering going to a Yahrtzeit concert - but I kind of prefer listening to and thinking about
the man himself (video, on Israeli TV). (
Here's an audio of him figuring out a tune. There's a priceless moment at 8:57-8:58 when someone sneezes and Shlomo reacts. I recommend continuing on to Part Two, till the very end.) (Here's his early, smoothly produced,
chazanishe Mimkomcha.) (Here's
a video of him teaching and singing pre-Rosh HaShanah in his Shul. Over his head is a picture of his twin brother.)
uHere's an interesting
article on Reb Shlomo by Professor Shaul Magid, cited by Menachem Butler.
biIn the early nineties Reb Shlomo greeted me with a hug at Simcha Hochbaum's wedding on
Har Tzion. Right before he embraced me (we didn't know each other) he looked right at me and said warmly, "Brother, you look sharp." To me that's a wow, always will be.
hb h
Magid's piece includes this first hand account and commentary:
ni"In the autumn of 1994, just a few weeks before his death, Shlomo was strapping on his guitar and taking his seat, while I was kneeling next to him, taping our microphone to the microphone that was being used for amplification. As he was sitting down, characteristically tired yet uncharacteristically weak, he said to no one in particular, 'Okay, hevre, let’s pretend we’re happy.' I may have been the only one who heard it. It struck me as the quintessence of his life, the narrows between utter brokenness and the unwillingness to give in to despair."ui b
A friend of mine told me that years ago his prominent parents saw Reb Shlomo at a convention. They bumped into him in the lobby and shmoozed a bit. He was about to perform and said something like, "Excuse but I have to go and pretend to be happy now." My friend and his parents only saw the sadness in that, not the greatness, not the humanity. When I told the story to a wise friend of mine, he said that the story made him think more not less of Reb Shlomo. That story never made me think less of the man.
hI wonder - how many times in his life, maybe even in a day, did he feel/say that sentiment? Also, how many times a day did he cheer someone on with a words the way he did for me with, "Brother, you look sharp." No one else has ever said those words to me in my life.
jThat same summer as Simcha's Chasanah, I was an advisor for a summer program for college kids. Reb Shlomo did a private concert just for our small group and he told the following story. He performed at a high security prison. All the young men he played for had committed heinous crimes and were in for life. He gave them each a hug and sang for them. Afterwards, as he was leaving, one of the boys approached him. "Rabbi," he asked, "can I have another hug?" Reb Shlomo was happy to oblige but asked, "Why?" And the boy said, "Because that I know that in my whole life I'll never get another hug." Reb Shlomo said with confidence,"If only I had met him and hugged him when he was younger - he never would have become a criminal."
nMei inyan le'inyan be'oto inyan - On a related/unrelated note, a poem comes to mind. I don't remember the exact words of the poem, but I almost do. It was about twenty years ago way downtown at a reading. It was during the season that is quickly approaching. A woman got up and said something like this, "I'll never forget the first time I was hugged, I don't remember who gave it to me - but I remember the hug. And G-d - the only gift I want for Christmas this year is another hug.'
jI kind of wanted this piece to only be about Reb Shlomo, but I think the free association is within the spirit of his spirit. Back to him. My friend Simcha has
smicha from Shlomo, he seems to be the last person to get it from him. I was there when he got it. Simcha has it on tape. There was a moment when the floor was opened for anyone who wished to speak and I spoke. Every now and then Simcha listens to the tape and thinks of me when he hears my voice.
jReb Shlomo told a story of his memory of his receiving smicha. As he recalled it, Rav Yitzchak Hutner sat him down (he had lost a lot of sleep leading up to that moment) and looked at him. Then Rav Hutner said something like, "Pretend that you were me and I was you and you were me and you were testing me for smicha , what would you ask me?" He passed the test and got his smicha. And so did Simcha.
jAt the bris of Simcha's first son, on the Lower East Side, Reb Shlomo walked in with a sefer under his arm. He spoke, and in his talk he asked why of all days was it on Pesach that Avraham and Sarah were told that they would have a son. His answer was that there's little sadder than not having any child to ask you the Mah Nishtanah.
jMei inyan le'inyan be'oto inyan - On a related/unrelated note. I once heard Rav Aharon Lichtenstein give a long presentation on why Moshe broke the
luchot. After presenting many viewpoints, he came to his grand finale. The last opinion he cited was the Kli Yakar, who says that Moshe broke the luchot out of his love for the Jewish People, so that he would be in the same boat as them. Rav Lichtenstein paused, then said, "Imagine how much
ahavas yisrael the great rabbi, the Kli Yakar must have had, to think of that interpretation."
bImagine the empathy and love that Reb Shlomo had for others to think of that thought about Avraham and Sarah and anyone without children.
jThey say that more than loving
klal yisrael we have to love Reb Yisrael, not a theoretical love of an amorphous group but true love for the guy next to you. Reb Shlomo strove and inspired in that regard.
jOne of my students told me this week that he was thinking of spending Shabbos at The House of Love and Prayer. I asked him if he was going to California. He said, "No, the Upper West Side." He thought that's the name of the Carlebach Shul. He didn't seem to believe me when I told him that it wasn't.
hHere's a nice description of The Carlebach Shul from
Among the Holy Schleppers, by Jennifer Bleyer:
-I had grown up in congregations where the aisles were used as catwalks during the High Holidays. Here, worshippers were freaks, geniuses, outcasts, and eccentrics—more like members of the tribe to which I imagined myself belonging. One was a former yeshiva student who now favored various Hindu gurus, but still kept Shabbat. One was a Kahanist alcoholic from Transylvania. One got arrested for aiding a runaway teenager and other congregants rallied to help bail him out of jail. Reb Shlomo referred to all of them as “holy schleppers."
hHere's
a complex biographical essay of Reb Shlomo, by Zalman Alpert. He ends with a striking phrase, which some might consider an insult. What Michael Lerner called Reb Shlomo sounds like a high level to me.
hMay the
neshama of this great "wounded healer" experience an
aliya.