The Jewish sages tell us that the best way to live our lives is as though the entire world were held in the balance, and any one thing we do could tip the scales. This presents for us quite an interesting challenge. But just think for a moment if we were to live like this the whole year round instead of intermittedly or perhaps never at all? Here are a few examples of countless heroes, the nameless and faceless, who outwardly contributed in small, seemingly insignificant ways which may have just kept the scales from tipping.
There was once an old, frail man praying fervently at the Western Wall in Jerusalem who had survived years of incarceration in a concentration camp and subsequently made Aliya. He had clearly suffered much; that was apparent from his broken appearance. When questioned, he said that the thing he drew strength from above everything was his decision to worship God unconditionally, wholeheartedly and consistently in the midst of every circumstance he faced.
Then, there is a story about the extraordinary episode of fifty Hungarian orthodox Jewish youth transported to Auschwitz in 1944 who were immediately selected for the gas chambers. They were herded into the ‘showers’ and knew that this signified the end. However, they were determined to make their stand even in the face of death. One of them stood up and inspired the others to sing and dance unto God as they prepared to die. The guard who overheard all of this summoned the camp commandant. He was filled with fury at his inability to quell the celebration. The youths were lost in worship, spurred on by the knowledge of the eternal hope that lay before them. In a fit of rage, the camp commandant cancelled the gassing and decided to torture them one by one, savouring the thought of imposing an even more agonising death. He removed them from the gas chamber and placed them in a holding block. However, the next morning a high ranking Nazi officer arrived at Auschwitz to acquire slave labour workers, and just happened to pass by the barracks where the fifty youths were being held. Immediately he had them requisitioned and placed onto the waiting truck. God intervened to spare each one of these young men from certain torture and death, and all survived the war to tell their tale.
The Novardok Yeshiva in Navahrudak, then the Russian Empire, was one of the biggest and most important yeshivas in pre-World War II Europe and was established in 1896. Because there were no dormitory facilities, the young men had to rent rooms. In this town lived a woman who was a widow and owned a large house that she rented out to the Yeshiva students. She had become very bitter from the many traumas she had experienced in life and expressed her anguish in her behaviour against her boarders. She often yelled and ridiculed them. On some Friday afternoons, she turned off the water supply, so that there was no hot water for bathing. Other times, she turned off the electricity for no apparent reason. Consequently, the boarders all left except for one person: Yosef Geffen. One morning, the woman saw Yosef and began screaming at him, ‘You must be crazy! How can you still stay in my house? Why don’t you leave like all the rest of them?’
Yosef paused and answered her gently.
‘I stay here for your sake. I realise that you live alone and I fear that one night you might fall or become ill and call out for help and there would be no one to hear your cries. I understand why you speak harshly because of the manner in which life has treated you.’
The widow’s demeanour instantly changed. She turned pale and burst into tears. Afterwards, she never said anything but kind words to the boarders and soon her house was filled to capacity.
The celebrated author, David Kossoff, in his forward to, ‘The Book of Witnesses’, wrote the following extract about an incident with his father which left an indelible impression upon him:
“This book is for my father, who died long ago. Once, when I was small, about eight, I was with my father, who was a loving man, in a narrow street in the East End (of London). A huge labourer suddenly roared down at us that we had killed Jesus. My father asked him why he was so unhappy, and the fist lowered and the shouting stopped and he began to cry. We took him with us to my aunt for tea. This book is for my father, who was a loving man.”
Spiritual truth without transformation is an empty shell resulting in deadness. Transformation comes at a great personal cost, and most people choose sameness in preference to allowing the pain of God’s scorching light to burn up the impurities. Yet, it is this concealed gift which allows His life to shine more brightly within us. This is the mark of a true hero; one who tips the scales.
