Some say Arad is really more of a yishuv, with the amenities of a small city. At no time was that more apparent than on Sunday, when the 20-year-old soldier died in a terrorist attack on an IDF outpost at the Kerem Shalom border crossing with south Gaza and Egypt.
One person who was particularly affected by his death was a woman he never even knew. Ms. Chava Sadeh of Bnei Brak was preparing the same day for the installment of a new sefer Torah to be held at 6:00 pm that very evening in a relatively new neighborhood in Barak’s little town.
The new Torah was written to honor the memory of her father, Reb Levi, z”l, a man who had lived his life modestly and deeply observant of G-d’s commandments. Although the entire family lived in Bnei Brak, Sadeh wanted to donate a Torah to a home where it would really count --- a small synagogue that desperately needed one, that had none, in a small community – Arad.
The last letters of the brand-new Torah were to be inscribed in only a few hours. The holy scroll would be carried through the streets to its new home, accompanied by singing and dancing and joyful music.
In only a few more hours, the little synagogue would have its first Torah – and then the Chief Rabbi of Arad, Ha Rav Benzion Lipsker received a call. A boy he had taught, had guided through bar mitzvah, who grew up to manhood and wore the IDF uniform with pride, had been killed that day in the line of duty.
The funeral was scheduled for 8:00 pm, just a few hours away. A Torah was about to be born, and a human Torah had just said goodbye through the flames of a terrorist missile attack.
Rav Lipsker picked up the phone and called Chaya Sadeh. “I explained to her what had happened, and explained what we would need to do. I apologized that her father’s sefer Torah would not be accompanied down the street with traditional instrumental music and dancing. The traditional seuda, the festive meal and the hakafot, the dances with the Torah around the synagogue would take place in a slightly quieter atmosphere, the music and dances would be a little shorter,” related the Rabbi.
“And Chaya answered, ‘My father was always a modest man. Perhaps it worked out this way because he would have preferred less of a tumult for an event in his honor,’” said Rav Lipsker.
Indeed, the procession of the Torah and the celebration of its installation began on time, at 6:00 pm, in order not to detract from the honor of the holy scroll. Rav Lipsker, however, was on his way to the Barak family, to join them at the military cemetery.
As the Torah was brought into the small synagogue to rest in its new ark, First Lieutenant Hanan Barak was being laid to rest in the desert cemetery shaded by leafy trees and fragrant flowers just outside the Sabbath boundary of Arad.
Rabbi Lipsker conducted the brief service. “It is not the first time I have had this experience in Arad,” he said. “I still remember a wedding I conducted just a few hours after the death of the chatan’s (groom’s) father, of blessed memory. The Torah is very clear about our priorities: honor the dead, but life must go on,” he said. “I went with the family to the cemetery and then to the wedding hall to bless the marriage of the new couple. We must always place our emphasis on life,” hesaid.
When he returned from the funeral of the soldier he had known from boyhood, Rabbi Lipsker went to the synagogue to honor the Torah in its new home. “The music did not begin until 9:00 pm,” he said, “an hour after the funeral.”
The festive meal provided a perfect opportunity for his public declaration that the Jewish people will never bow to those who would destroy them, no matter what. “We will not let the terrorists win!” Rabbi Lipsker’s voice rang out. “We will not let them destroy our lives,” he said firmly. “Had we cancelled this, they would have succeeded.”
“I remember one Yud Tes (19th) Kislev (a worldwide Chabad holiday celebrating the release of the first Lubavitcher Rebbe from a Russian prison),” he recalled. “We had rented a large hall here in Arad, and had arranged music, food and all kinds of activities. Two huge bombings in Haifa and in Jerusalem left 60 dead and many more wounded, and we had a real dilemma on our hands. What should we do, we asked ourselves.
“A few people said to cancel the program. How could we celebrate when Jews were dying? I decided at the end, however, to go ahead with the event, and “davka” hired the best band, the best singer and the best caterer in the region. Everything the best,” he said.
“You know why?” Rav Lipsker permitted himself a small smile. “Because we will not let the terrorists take over our lives -- especially when it relates to Torah and to the celebration of Torah."
One person who was particularly affected by his death was a woman he never even knew. Ms. Chava Sadeh of Bnei Brak was preparing the same day for the installment of a new sefer Torah to be held at 6:00 pm that very evening in a relatively new neighborhood in Barak’s little town.
The new Torah was written to honor the memory of her father, Reb Levi, z”l, a man who had lived his life modestly and deeply observant of G-d’s commandments. Although the entire family lived in Bnei Brak, Sadeh wanted to donate a Torah to a home where it would really count --- a small synagogue that desperately needed one, that had none, in a small community – Arad.
The last letters of the brand-new Torah were to be inscribed in only a few hours. The holy scroll would be carried through the streets to its new home, accompanied by singing and dancing and joyful music.
In only a few more hours, the little synagogue would have its first Torah – and then the Chief Rabbi of Arad, Ha Rav Benzion Lipsker received a call. A boy he had taught, had guided through bar mitzvah, who grew up to manhood and wore the IDF uniform with pride, had been killed that day in the line of duty.
The funeral was scheduled for 8:00 pm, just a few hours away. A Torah was about to be born, and a human Torah had just said goodbye through the flames of a terrorist missile attack.
Rav Lipsker picked up the phone and called Chaya Sadeh. “I explained to her what had happened, and explained what we would need to do. I apologized that her father’s sefer Torah would not be accompanied down the street with traditional instrumental music and dancing. The traditional seuda, the festive meal and the hakafot, the dances with the Torah around the synagogue would take place in a slightly quieter atmosphere, the music and dances would be a little shorter,” related the Rabbi.
“And Chaya answered, ‘My father was always a modest man. Perhaps it worked out this way because he would have preferred less of a tumult for an event in his honor,’” said Rav Lipsker.
Indeed, the procession of the Torah and the celebration of its installation began on time, at 6:00 pm, in order not to detract from the honor of the holy scroll. Rav Lipsker, however, was on his way to the Barak family, to join them at the military cemetery.
As the Torah was brought into the small synagogue to rest in its new ark, First Lieutenant Hanan Barak was being laid to rest in the desert cemetery shaded by leafy trees and fragrant flowers just outside the Sabbath boundary of Arad.
Rabbi Lipsker conducted the brief service. “It is not the first time I have had this experience in Arad,” he said. “I still remember a wedding I conducted just a few hours after the death of the chatan’s (groom’s) father, of blessed memory. The Torah is very clear about our priorities: honor the dead, but life must go on,” he said. “I went with the family to the cemetery and then to the wedding hall to bless the marriage of the new couple. We must always place our emphasis on life,” hesaid.
When he returned from the funeral of the soldier he had known from boyhood, Rabbi Lipsker went to the synagogue to honor the Torah in its new home. “The music did not begin until 9:00 pm,” he said, “an hour after the funeral.”
The festive meal provided a perfect opportunity for his public declaration that the Jewish people will never bow to those who would destroy them, no matter what. “We will not let the terrorists win!” Rabbi Lipsker’s voice rang out. “We will not let them destroy our lives,” he said firmly. “Had we cancelled this, they would have succeeded.”
“I remember one Yud Tes (19th) Kislev (a worldwide Chabad holiday celebrating the release of the first Lubavitcher Rebbe from a Russian prison),” he recalled. “We had rented a large hall here in Arad, and had arranged music, food and all kinds of activities. Two huge bombings in Haifa and in Jerusalem left 60 dead and many more wounded, and we had a real dilemma on our hands. What should we do, we asked ourselves.
“A few people said to cancel the program. How could we celebrate when Jews were dying? I decided at the end, however, to go ahead with the event, and “davka” hired the best band, the best singer and the best caterer in the region. Everything the best,” he said.
“You know why?” Rav Lipsker permitted himself a small smile. “Because we will not let the terrorists take over our lives -- especially when it relates to Torah and to the celebration of Torah."