You Don't Have To Worry About Parnassah

By Shimon Katzman

Back in 1990 a friend was having some problems. I suggested that he go to the Lubavitcher Rebbe for a blessing. Although not a chasid, I greatly revere the Rebbe.

"Okay," he said, "but only if you come with me."

I agreed.

We came to 770 (Lubavitch World Headquarters at 770 Eastern Parkway in Brooklyn) on Sunday morning and waited patiently on line for four hours. Over 5,000 people had come to receive a blessing and a dollar to give to charity from the Rebbe. As we approached the Rebbe, I began to think of a problem I had at work. I was under so much pressure from my boss that I had considered changing jobs or transferring to a different unit. I decided to ask the Rebbe what to do.

The line moved quickly. As I approached the Rebbe, I blurted out my question of whether or not to change jobs. To my surprise, the Rebbe answered, "If you have kosher tefilin you don't have to worry about parnasa (livelihood)."

That's strange, I thought to myself. How could there be something wrong with my tefilin? The scribes who had checked the tefilin over the years had consistently noted how nicely they were written. They recognized the handwriting of the scribe and would add, "He is one of the best scribes in Israel."

Could it be that my tefilin were not kosher? Was there a possibility that I had not worn kosher tefilin for 30 years? Why, the mere thought of it scared me. I immediately went to a scribe and had him check them over.

"It's a very nice pair of kosher tefilin," the scribe said. I breathed a sigh of relief, but I was still puzzled by the Rebbe's remarks. Thus, two weeks later I returned to the Rebbe to clarify the matter.

"I checked my tefilin and the scribe said they're kosher," I reported.

"How can that be?" said the Rebbe as he handed me a dollar. "Is the scribe an honest, reliable Jew?"

"Yes," I answered. Once again I was surprised at the Rebbe's remark. I had a strange feeling. I went to another scribe. I told the scribe the entire story and he carefully examined the leather boxes for any imperfections. He used a light table to check the parchments for minute cracks in the ink that may render tefilin posul, not kosher. Once again, nothing was found.

Unsatisfied, I went to the Vaad Mishmeres STAM, an organization that had developed a way of checking Torah scrolls, tefilin, and mezuzot by computer scanning to see if any letters are missing. Again the results were negative.

Now, for the third time, I returned to the Rebbe. This time as I passed the Rebbe I said to him, "I checked my tefilin by two different scribes and by computer and they said they're kosher."

"Nu," said the Rebbe, "if two honest scribes say they're kosher, then it's not your responsibility; it's their responsibility."

I was totally upset! Obviously the Rebbe was very insistent that something was wrong. I went to a great rabbi and told him the whole story.

The rabbi said to me, "Even if the Lubavitcher Rebbe is like an angel who sees things that no person can see, the Torah was not given to angels. We can only be expected to do what humans can do."

"Yes," I said. "But what's going to be 'after 120 years,' when I'm standing before the Heavenly Tribunal and they say, 'Shimon, you never wore kosher tefilin in your lifetime!' "

"Listen," said the rabbi, "don't worry. Heaven cannot expect you to do more than you did. If they ruled here on earth that your tefilin are kosher then it's kosher and you've done your duty."

I was still not at ease, so I went out and bought the finest pair of tefilin money can buy. The following morning, on the eve of Yom Kippur, I put on the new pair of tefilin for the very first time.

The night after Yom Kippur my wife, Brocha, received an interesting phone call. For six weeks she had been vying for a new position in her school as the Assistant Principal. However, the principal refused to give it to her. He claimed that since the school was growing he wanted to hire someone from outside to do the job. My wife countered that since she had been doing the job of the Assistant Principal until now, she should receive the title and the increase in salary. For six weeks the principal had been interviewing candidates for the job.

That night, the principal called to tell her, "I've decided it's only right that you be the assistant principal. And you'll be getting a five thousand-dollar raise."

We suddenly recalled the Rebbe's words: "If you have kosher tefilin, you don't have to worry about parnasa." A few months later my boss left my department and the pressure was finally off.

But the story doesn't end there. For several years after buying the new tefilin I continued to wear my old tefilin. I would put them on after I finished praying.

During that time I had applied for various managerial positions and had requested that my titled be upgraded. I had four people working under me but I was unsuccessful in getting a managerial title. My boss would tell me, "There are no more managerial slots to be filled, the department has reached its limit."

Someone told me that there was an unused title of "supervisor." He recommended I speak to my boss about it. My boss said he would look into it.

Months passed. In the interim, I had stopped wearing my old pair of tefilin and was now only putting on the "new" pair. One day, my boss called me and said, "I have good news for you, you're finally being promoted to supervisor and that means you'll be getting a ten percent raise!"

TEFILIN, MEMORY AND ME

by Steve Batkin

Europe is not a good place to have a car accident. But it does happen.

My wife, Annette and I were driving through Switzerland to get to France. Annette had a "premonition" that made her anxious about Switzerland but we took that route anyway. Annette drove.

At one point while we were driving, we entered a 5-way intersection. The way was clear so we proceeded. And then I saw a car heading directly for me from the side. I actually made eye contact with the driver, who continued towards me until he slammed into us.

Since we were hit on the side, we were thrown sideways. Annette's feet were bruised and I slammed my head on the door pillar. The police were there in about 45 seconds, directing traffic, towing our car to the side and making sure we were alright.

It seems that the Swiss want drivers to admit guilt or innocence at the accident scene. The one officer who spoke English told me that the accident was our fault because there was a white line on the pavement which indicated we were to stop. If we didn't admit on the spot that it was our fault we would have to go before a judge. Based on a police report which would state that we were at fault, the judge would find us guilty, so we might as well admit our guilt here and now, the officer "counseled" us. As we didn't feel we had much of a choice, we said we were guilty so we could go on our way.

The police drove us to the car repair shop, got ice for our bruises and waited until the garage could locate a replacement car. When they told us that the new car would have to come from Geneve (we were in Lusane), we realized we had some time on our hands. The police then volunteered to take us to the downtown area so we could continue our touring. We returned later by taxi, picked up our replacement car and were on our way. All of this took a mere 3 hours. Now that's efficient!

Upon our return to Connecticut, I realized that my sense of direction was gone. I could no longer find my way home from the bagel shop or the grocery store. If I went out on my own, I had to use my car phone and get directions. It often took 20 minutes to travel 2 miles because I went 15 miles out of the way trying to get there. A CAT scan and exam revealed no permanent damage, but my doctor said it was probably a concussion and my sense of direction would probably come back. Someday.

A few months later, we were asked to host Rabbi Laibl Wolf of Australia who would be a guest lecturer at the Chabad Center in Greenwich. I got lost taking him to his lecture, but eventually we got there. The next morning, we went for a walk at the PepsiCo headquarters. After a brisk hour walk, I realized that I could not find my car. I was utterly lost again. Rabbi Wolf led me, totally embarrassed, back to the car.

At home, Rabbi Wolf said he thought he could help with my memory problem. I was intrigued. How? Rabbi Wolf then began to explain to me, based on a talk of the Rebbe, that putting on tefilin would help.

My immediate reaction was that I had been fooled by Rabbi Wolf's entire presentation the previous evening. After having listened to his lecture, I had thought he was an enlightened educator, "despite" the fact that he was an Orthodox Jew. And here he was, telling me in essence, "Don't think about it. Don't understand it. Don't ask questions. Just do the mitzva."

Well, he was a guest. And as I'd always been taught to treat guests politely, I agreed to put on tefilin. It was as simple as 1, 2, 3. Just put it on, say the Shema and the subseqent v'ahavta paragraph, and take it off. That's all. Three minutes later he left and I went to work.

But my brain still felt like mush and I got lost again. Maybe it takes time to help, I consoled myself hopefully. The next morning I put on tefilin again, 1, 2, 3. I could barely find my way to work. After work I got totally lost again and could barely get back home.

This can't be what the Rebbe meant, I told myself. I decided to try and do some research. I looked in the Talmud. In the section called Brachot it says that saying the Shema properly includes saying the three paragraphs immediate following the Shema as well. Why? Because there are 248 words in the Shema and the subsequent 3 paragraphs and these 248 words correspond to the body's 248 limbs and organs. To make sure that all of one's limbs and organs stay healthy one needs to recite all 248 words.

I decided that the next day I would add the 2 paragraphs I hadn't been saying. Now, this may sound hokey, but my memory came right back! I haven't gotten lost since then, and what's more, I can even visualize directions in my head, which I was never able to do very well before.

Though I haven't been able to find out for sure, I figure that the word from those 248 words that keeps your brain healthy must be in the 2nd or 3rd paragraph after Shema. So everyday, before I exercise, I put on tefilin and say those 248 words. I don't know why, but it works.

Steve Batkin, an insurance salesman and engineer, lives in Greenwich, Connecticut with his wife and children.

In 1995, Jeremy Jordan underwent extensive surgery. During his recovery, he developed a severe infection, which necessitated an additional operation.

His own surgeon was out of town at the time, and so, Dr. S. -- a man whom Jeremy had never met before -- would be performing the second surgery.

Dr. S. had Jeremy put under general anesthesia and began the operation. Then, while still on the operating table, Jeremy woke up! He felt no pain, and was aware of his surroundings. As he looked up at the ceiling, he saw a clear vision of the Rebbe. In this vision, the Rebbe told Jeremy that he wanted to give him a message for the doctor who was operating on him!

The Rebbe then told Jeremy to tell Dr. S. that if he began to put on tefillin every day, the difficulties he was experiencing with his daughter would cease. The Rebbe stressed that although something was very wrong with the man's daughter, it would be rectified if he performed this mitzva.

Jeremy told the Rebbe he would pass on the message. Imagine the consternation in the operating room when the "anesthetized" patient began to speak! The nurse told Dr. S. that the patient began to speak! The nurse told Dr. S. that the patient had awakened, and asked what she should do. Dr. S. replied that she should give him additional anesthesia.

Before this could be done, however, Jeremy spoke up and asked Dr. S. to come close so that he could see his face. Dr. S. complied, asking Jeremy if he was in any pain, and curious to know if his "unconscious" patient truly understood what was going on around him. Jeremy made it clear that he did.

Then Jeremy told the doctor: "You may think I'm crazy, but I have a message for you. Do you know who the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson is?"

Dr. S. replied, "I've heard of him, why?"

"Well," Jeremy continued. "He has just appeared to me in a vision and told me to tell you that the difficulties with your daughter will be solved if you put on tefillin every day."

The doctor was dumbfounded, but remembering where he was, he managed to say that the surgery was almost finished and that he would have Jeremy out of the operating room soon.

During the remainder of the procedure, Jeremy remained conscious, feeling a unique peace of mind as the Rebbe's words echoed in his thoughts.

While Jeremy was in the recovery room, Dr. S. came over and closed the curtain around the bed. He took Jeremy's hand in his own and, with tears in his eyes, whispered: "I believe you!

"The last time I was in a synagogue was at my bar mitzva. I hadn't prayed or acknowledged G-d since then. My daughter happens to be very ill. Since I am a physician, I feel doubly helpless that I can't help her.

"This morning, I prayed for the first time in over 30 years, pleading with G-d to heal her. And I added: 'If you really exist, please show me a sign.'

"Then you awoke during surgery and gave me that message from Rabbi Schneerson! It's incredible."

After this experience, Dr. S. purchased a pair of tefillin and began attending synagogue. Within weeks, his daughter recovered completely.