The district rabbi who was circumcised moments before his flight to New York, the Yugoslavian soldier who accosted a rabbi and was later killed al kiddush Hashem, a bris in a forsaken village in the Himalayas, and a medical miracle for a baby in the emergency room. The victory of a traditional grandfather over the communist mother seventy years after the war and a silver cup that was returned after nearly 100 years. The missionary witch from Beer Sheva and the surprising revelation in her parents’ home. * Rabbi Yaron Amit, director of Bris Yosef Yitzchok, which does brissin around the world, shares some extraordinary stories about brissin and mohalim with mesirus nefesh.
By Zalman Tzorfati
THE STORY OF THE YUGOSLAVIAN SOLDIER
It was shortly before Pesach 5762. We had held a Shabbos fundraiser for the organization on one of the religious yishuvim. Our representative was hosted by the community and he talked about our work and the large amounts of money needed to arrange brissin. He asked the residents to donate toward the big expenses.
On Motzaei Shabbos, people came back to the shul to meet with him and give their donation. Among them was the district rabbi who was particularly impressed and decided to sign on for a monthly deposit. “I want to buy shares in the organization,” he said.
The next day, late in the evening, I got a phone call from that rabbi who asked for help in arranging a bris for a young Jew from Yugoslavia. He told how that evening he had visited a yishuv under his jurisdiction to take care of things for Pesach, and to bring shmura matza to a few people and for the communal seder that would be held there. After he made his final delivery he headed for the yishuv’s parking lot, when a young man suddenly lunged out from one of the dark side roads. He looked young and brawny and he started walking alongside the rabbi. The rabbi was a bit apprehensive but after walking together for a while, the stranger asked him in English, “Rabbi, perhaps you can help me?”
The rabbi told him that he does not live on the yishuv but he would be happy to help him.
“It’s a religious matter,” said the young man and he tried to explain but could not find the words to express what he wanted to say.
His accent disclosed that he wasn’t Israeli-born and the rabbi, who was still under the influence of the stories that he heard on Shabbos, gently asked the young man whether he needed help with a bris mila.
“Yes,” affirmed the young man, wondering how the rabbi had figured that out.
The rabbi asked the young man to accompany him to his car. The latter told him that his name is Yaakov Marvizi and that he recently came from Yugoslavia to volunteer at the yishuv. He claimed that the chief rabbi of Yugoslavia knew him and could testify to his Jewish identity.
The two of them called me from the car. When the rabbi mentioned the name of the Yugoslavian rabbi as someone who knew the young man, I was amazed by the divine providence. I had just finished a phone conversation with the Yugoslavian rabbi in which we discussed arranging brissin in that country.
The rabbi put him on the line, and afterward we checked out the man’s Jewishness. We arranged a bris for that same week. The following Shabbos, the rav told his community about the divine providence that he experienced at the beginning of the week. When he concluded, one of the residents got up and said that he worked as a driver for Bris Yosef Yitzchok. The previous Tuesday, he was the one who had driven the Yugoslavian to the bris mila. “You can relax,” smiled the driver. “He underwent the bris just fine and I brought him back to the yishuv.”
Three years later, the media reported a tragedy in which an APC (armored personnel carrier) with six soldiers drove over a powerful explosive device in southern Gaza, while carrying out the destruction of tunnels in the Zeitun area. It was such a powerful blast that nearly nothing remained of those who were killed, and IDF soldiers spent hours searching for body parts to bring to burial.
Like everyone else, the rabbi heard about the terrible occurrence which was called “the APC tragedy.” Several hours later, when the names of the dead were publicized, he saw the name of the Yugoslavian on the list, Yaakov Marvizi, Hy”d.
The rabbi called me and told me that Yaakov was killed, and it was then that we found out the rest of his story. He was born in 1979 in Yugoslavia and grew up in Novi Sad. At the end of the war in Yugoslavia, he left the Yugoslavian army where he had served in an elite unit, and decided to live his dream and make aliya. In the winter of 5762 he arrived in Eretz Yisroel alone and half a year later he was drafted into the IDF as a Lone Soldier. He wanted to use his knowledge to save Jews from Arab terrorists and he insisted on being drafted into a combat unit. Then, at age 26, he was killed along with five friends. Upon his mother’s request, he was buried in the Jewish cemetery in Novi Sad, Yugoslavia, having been circumcised as a Jew.
BRIS MILA FOR THE DISTRICT RAV
Some time later, I met with the same rabbi in Florida. We both went there to raise funds and of course we talked about Yaakov. As we spoke, we somehow got on to the topic of brissin on kibbutzim. I said that many babies on kibbutzim were circumcised by doctors who were not religious, which is problematic. Furthermore, many of these doctors do not circumcise according to halacha and often, after this kind of circumcision, the baby remains an orel according to halacha.
As we spoke, I noticed that he seemed unusually affected. A few minutes later, he told me that he was born on a kibbutz and had become a baal t’shuva in his youth. He also remembered that when he once asked his mother about his bris mila, she said that they had not even planned on giving him a bris but the doctor who came to examine the babies that were born on the kibbutz offered to do it. They agreed. Now he wondered whether his bris was also problematic.
Indeed, upon examination it turned out that the doctor had only done a minor cut and halachically this was not mila. Since that time, this rabbi had remained an orel.
The rabbi was in shock. He was alive for fifty years, living many decades as a religious Jew who helped other Jews do mitzvos, and now he discovered that he himself was not circumcised! “As soon as I get back to Eretz Yisroel I will take care of it,” he told me.
I told him that with every passing second he was liable for kareis. He told me that in the evening he had a flight to New York where he was going to meet with some rich people to further a big project that would promote Judaism. I told him that right now, he was the project!
We reached out to the local connections that we had there, and within a few hours, fixed what needed to be fixed. It created some time pressure for him that day, but that evening he was on the plane on his way to New York, circumcised properly this time.
THE WAR THAT WAS WON AFTER SEVENTY YEARS
R’ Menachem Mendel Teichman, today the shliach for Russian speaking Jews in Netanya, served as a shliach for a number of years in Haditch, where he arranged brissin for many Jews in the area around Haditch. The first bris that he arranged in the area was for a Jew that was seventy years old, from the city of Sumy in Ukraine.
As the man told it, when he was born there was a huge fight in the family. His grandfather fought to have the boy entered into the covenant of Avraham Avinu, but his mother was a member of the communist party and she fought with all of her strength not to circumcise her son.
Exactly seventy years later, the grandfather won the battle against communism and his grandson was brought into the covenant of Avraham Avinu. The bris took place right near the resting place of the Alter Rebbe, and was performed by the mohel, R’ Yaakov Geisinovich, and the man was given the name Boruch after his grandfather.
The patient requested that the blessings to be recited at the bris be done over an old silver becher (goblet) that he gave the shliach. He said that the becher had belonged to the synagogue in Sumy, and during the war years had ended up with his grandfather, who watched over it like a treasure and always dreamed that one day it would return to the shul that had ceased operations during the communist years. When he was on his deathbed, he gave the becher to his grandson and told him, “Watch over the becher. A day will come when you will know who to give it to.”
After the bris, the newly circumcised Jew told R’ Teichman that he feels that the day that his grandfather had spoken about over forty years ago had arrived, and that he is the person to whom he was meant to give the becher. R’ Teichman accepted the becher and hurried to deliver it to his fellow shliach and rabbi of Sumy, R’ Yechiel Shlomo Levitansky, who returned it to its natural home, the great synagogue of Sumy.
BRIS IN THE HIMALAYAS
One day, I got a call from a woman who presented herself as the secretary of the former president, Yitzchak Navon. She told me that her daughter and son-in-law had gone for a trip a few years back to the Far East, and decided to remain in a remote Indian village in the Himalayas. A few days ago, her daughter gave birth to their firstborn son. The parents of the child had already decided that there was no possibility of conducting a bris in such a remote “hole,” but she, the grandmother, was trying to convince them not to give up and was calling to find out if we could help them.
This was no simple request. On the part of the mohel who would agree to undertake the project, it involved getting a medical checkup and vaccinations against various diseases that are still prevalent in the primitive parts of India, getting a visa to India, taking a thirty hour flight which includes a stopover in Switzerland, and from there flying to New Delhi. From New Delhi it is still a long trip, about fourteen hours by car to Dharamsala, and from there a long trek by foot in the Himalayan Mountains.
The request was forwarded to R’ Yishai Dahan, one of the veteran mohalim of the organization, who is considered a real expert, and he undertook the job.
A short time before the flight, the mohel suddenly received a message that his son, a child of a few days old, was hospitalized in a sudden medical emergency, in the intensive care unit. R’ Dahan was overwhelmed by the chain of events and he called me to say that the trip was canceled. “My son, a newborn child, is hospitalized in intensive care. My wife, her sister and I, will be doing shifts in overseeing his care,” he said regretfully.
I sensed the complexity of the situation. Obviously, I understood R’ Dahan’s feelings, a man who I knew to be a mohel of unique mesiras nefesh, and I certainly could not demand of him to abandon his infant child in such a situation. On the other side of the equation was a Jewish child across the world who would likely grow up without a bris mila, with R’ Dahan being the only person under the current circumstances who could perform the bris properly and in the correct time.
So I decided to visit him at home. On the way, I reminded myself of a story I had once heard of a uniquely gifted student who was learning in the yeshiva of R’ Chaim of Volozhin. He would spend sixteen hours a day learning, day after day. One day, he received a letter from his mother, requesting of him to return home since his father had taken ill and there was no one else to provide for the family.
With the letter in hand, he approached the Rosh Yeshiva and asked for permission to return home. The Rosh Yeshiva thought for a few moments, and then he said, “If you will listen to my advice, go back to learning.” The student listened to what his teacher said and went back to learn. A while later another letter arrived from his mother, again asking him to return home. Having no choice, the bachur once again approached the Rosh Yeshiva. R’ Chaim’s response was identical to the previous one. Once again, the young man followed the instruction of his teacher and returned to his learning.
Although this kept repeating itself, R’ Chaim did not change his position, and the bachur remained in yeshiva and grew in his learning and years later became one of the greats of the generation. Before the passing of the Rosh Yeshiva, he called in his student and told him that it was all a test to try to get him to stop his learning, “I understood that it was a ‘satanic act,’ and that is why I instructed you to continue learning.”
I told him the story and said that he should do whatever he thinks best. R’ Dahan consulted with his family members, and then informed me that despite everything he would undertake to see it through. He quickly made the necessary preparations, and on the appointed day he was in that remote village in the Himalayas, where he carried out the bris to the joy of the family, the parents and grandmother.
Immediately after the bris, R’ Dahan rushed to call home to get an update about his son’s condition. His wife told him that a few minutes earlier there was a significant improvement in his condition, and the decision was made to release him from intensive care. The child continued to improve in miraculous fashion, and in a very brief time was released home with a clean bill of health.
RECTIFICATION FOR THE WITCH
A number of years ago, word got around in the city of Beer Sheva, about a woman from Russia who was seeing people in her home, predicting the future, making miracles, and supposedly able to control forces of nature through incantations of magic. She used these supposed abilities to snare many unsuspecting Jews, preaching to them about Christianity and encouraging them to reject their own religion.
What triggered a number of activists to get involved and confront the woman was a phone call that was made to the office of one of the organizations involved in Jewish outreach in Beer Sheva. On the line, was the mother of that woman, who had heard about what her daughter was doing and was shocked to the core of her being.
The activists were galvanized into action, and they decided to visit the place and investigate. They came to the woman’s home and quickly realized that the reports were true. Disclosing the purpose of their visit, they confronted the woman and explained in no uncertain terms that she must cease and desist immediately. In addition, they warned her that what she was doing was illegal, and that if she did not stop they would involve the police and others.
The woman, seeing that they meant business, agreed to stop what she had been doing. After she promised to discontinue her activities, they went to the home of her parents to thank the mother for the information and assistance in defusing the threat. While they were there, the husband walked in. The fellows were surprised to discover that they knew him, since he worked for the Health Ministry office on the Egyptian border with Israel at the terminal in Nitzana, where they would visit as part of their work. They greeted their friend with a warm handshake and sat down to a friendly conversation.
Then to the surprise of all present, the woman started to scream at her husband in front of everyone, “You are at fault for the whole thing. It is because of you that our daughter has degenerated, marrying a gentile and getting involved in idolatry and missionary work, and it’s all your fault!”
A heavy silence fell over the room. The guests sat in stunned silence as the man appeared humiliated by the surprise attack from his wife. However, she continued to blast him mercilessly, “It is all because of the bris mila. It is already thirty years, starting back in Russia, that I have been pleading with you to have a bris mila like every Jew, and you keep refusing. Well, these are the results. I know in my heart of hearts that this is the reason for our tribulations. We have a one and only daughter, and our entire dream was to move to Eretz Yisroel and live among Jews. And now we have lost our only daughter, and it is all because you did not have a bris mila!”
Once again, silence. The guests sat there and digested what they just heard. In surprise, they asked, “How is it that you never told us that you are uncircumcised? We know you for years already, you always put t’fillin on with us, and we did not know this basic fact?”
The man was quiet. He became very emotional and was having a hard time responding. On the spot, those activists called me and told me about the case. I immediately told him to get ready, since tomorrow morning there would be a taxi waiting for him to go to the hospital, where he would have his bris mila done. And that is exactly what happened. That Jew had the good fortune to enter into the covenant of Avraham Avinu, and returned home happy, like a new person.
THE MYSTERY MAN IN SPAIN
R’ Yishai Dahan, one of the veteran members of the organization, and an expert mohel, once took a flight to Malaga in Spain, in order to perform a bris. The otherworldly and unforgettable experience that he lived through on that trip is beyond human comprehension. This is the story:
The flight from Eretz Yisroel was delayed for a variety of reasons, and when R’ Dahan eventually landed in Madrid, he realized that the domestic flight to Malaga had left already. “What am I going to do?” he thought to himself, “I don’t know the language, and I don’t have anyone here that I know.”
The feelings of alienation and loneliness become even stronger when he found himself crushed between masses of people on the crowded bus, which was transporting them across the massive terminal. He had no idea where he would go when he would be moved by the flood of passengers pushing toward the exit of the bus. He had no idea how he would be able to accomplish the task that he set out to do and make it to the bris, and he prayed to Hashem for help.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a bearded man in a cap appeared next to him, and began to ask him, “Who are you? Are you a rav?”
R’ Dahan responded, “No, I am a mohel.”
“And where are you traveling to, Malaga?”
“Yes, but the plane already must have taken off,” answered the mohel.
Suddenly, the man barked a command to the mohel, “Give me your passport.”
R’ Dahan followed the instructions and took out his passport. The other guy grabbed him by the hand and led him off the bus, and began running with him through the terminal with crazy speed. The stranger ran quickly, and the dazed mohel followed panting, trying to keep pace. They seemed to be running on no clear course, passing through the huge area at dizzying speeds, climbing stairs, going up and going down, until they suddenly found themselves at the counter leading up to a plane.
In bizarre fashion, the stranger turned to the mohel and handed him a boarding pass before they even reached the counter and without having even looked at the passport.
Again, he took him by the hand and led him to the last door leading from the counter to the plane. The steward at the counter, who was about to close the door at that exact time, stepped aside to let the mohel pass. The stranger led him inside, as he yelled to him, “That’s it. You will make it to the bris.”
The unbelievable occurred, and the mohel arrived at the bris on time with no delays.