QUESTION:

Dear Rabbi Ali,

I recently got married and things are going well, Baruch Hashem. I know that there are couples that struggle, and, of course, every couple has their ups and downs. I would appreciate some thoughts on how I can manage the ups and downs and prevent some of the pitfalls that couples fall into. 

R’ Ali’s Response:

For starters, you mention that every couple has their ups and downs. That’s great that you’re aware of the reality that healthy couples go through ups and downs. Many couples go into marriage with unrealistic expectations and become very rattled when an issue arises. The issue usually isn’t problematic, it’s the thought that issues don’t exist that causes problems. This doesn’t mean that we become filled with worry and anxiety. That’s not good either. It means being educated and prepared on a basic level. 

It sounds like you would like to make sure you don’t end up becoming a struggling couple. While I can’t tackle the entire topic on this forum, there are a few points that you should know.

There are two major qualities that everyone should learn how to master. For some they may come naturally, for others it may be very challenging. The first quality is flexibility. 

It’s very important to understand what flexibility means and does not mean. It does not mean giving in to all of your spouse’s needs and wants. People mistakenly think that this is correct and even noble. We all have wants and needs, and when we give in all of the time, we may be destructing our individuality.

The word “mevater” becomes misunderstood and misused way too often. If a wife gives in to all of her husband’s needs and wants, yet slowly builds resentment and frustration, is that considered a good relationship? The answer is no. Doing this is incorrect and unhealthy.

So,  what is this flexibility that I’m talking about? It means understanding that your opinion is not the only one nor is it necessarily the correct one. Having flexibility of the mind means to understand that there are two people in the relationship with their own wants and desires.

When one wants to go on a winter vacation to Miami and the other would rather go on a ski trip, debating how going to a place with hot weather is “the normal winter vacation” shows a lack of flexibility or lack of accepting that your desires do not dictate what’s correct or should be done.

Sentences such as, “I see we differ on this point, what can we do?” or, “ I see that this bothers you, what do you think we can do?” should be used often in your relationship. Of course, we’re not robots, but the idea is to always put the other person into the equation. Acknowledge their existence and that they are different from you and that’s okay. So, for starters you should be working on the art of flexibility. 

The next quality is acceptance. This concept also gets misunderstood so I’d like to clarify what it does and does not mean. Acceptance does not mean you accept intolerable behaviors. It does not mean that you don’t try to get certain needs met when they are important to you and just “accept” how things are.

For example, a husband gets criticized by his wife for the way that he dresses all the time. He should not accept this and should kindly and gently let her know that he likes to dress this way. 

Acceptance means that there will be parts of your spouse that you like and parts that are not so pleasant. Accept that certain things may be unchangeable and certain things can change. It may be hard to identify what’s changeable and what is not. Talking this out with a third party would be ideal if you are unsure.

It does get tricky, but it is very important. Many people talk of their spouse being stubborn and not changing when many times things cannot be changed. As a rule,  I like to say – people don’t change, behaviors do. Ask yourself, is this part of who your spouse is or not? Is this intolerable or is it possibly tolerable? 

There is a lot to talk about, but I’m just giving a few ideas and touching the surface. Be self-aware and ask yourself, “ Am I inflexible?”  “Am I harping on certain issues where possibly I should be willing to accept them?”

Rabbi Harari welcoming Hacham Yitzhak Yosef to Flatbush Yeshiva in 2019.

Ellen Geller Kamaras

With great sadness, I read the October 30^th email from my alma mater, Yeshiva of Flatbush Joel Braverman (YFJB) High School (HS). Rabbi  Raymond Harari (HS ’72), Harav Rahamim ben Shoshanah, had passed away.   

Rabbi Harari, of Syrian descent, served our community with immense dedication and love for over four decades.  He left a tremendous legacy as an educator and a mentor at the Yeshiva of Flatbush Joel Braverman High School (JBHS).

He is survived by his wife, Vicky Harari, a child of Holocaust survivors, his children Michal Harari Geffner, Yael Harari, Rabbi Avi Harari the Rosh Beit Midrash at Yeshiva of Flatbush, Dr. David Harari, Dani Harari, and his grandchildren. He was the beloved brother of Sol Harari, a”h, David Harari, and Renee Maman.

Rabbi Harari’s Trajectory

After graduating from Yeshiva of Flatbush High School, Rabbi Harari obtained his bachelor’s degree in philosophy, and a master’s degree in Jewish studies from YU.  He spent a year learning in yeshiva in Israel before starting his job as a Judaic Studies  teacher at his alma mater.  Rabbi Harari aspired to return to the high school as a faculty member.  He retired from Yeshiva of Flatbush last June when he felt it was not fair to his students when he was forced to miss classes because of his illness.

Rabbi Harari started out as a teacher of Judaic Studies, became Chairman of the Halakha Department, and was later named the first Head of School. The Yeshiva of Flatbush High School posted, “During the time of Rabbi Harari’s leadership, Yeshiva of Flatbush High School experienced significant growth in both enrollment and student satisfaction…”

He was the rabbi of three congregations, Congregation Kol Israel, Congregation Shaare Zion, and Mikdash Eliyahu. 

Even as Rabbi Harari gained more prominence, he continued to leave his door open to staff and students, and he treated everyone as an equal.

A Gifted Educator

Mrs. Miriam Wielgus, a teacher at Yeshiva of Flatbush High School for over 25 years and the current Chair of the Jewish History Department, described Rabbi Harari as a “magician” when it came to teaching.  “He was the most gifted educator and scholar.  He used chalk and the board and didn’t need the bells and whistles of technology.  He was able to break down a complex topic, tell a story, and crack a joke.  You could have an intellectual conversation with him.  He wore many hats but didn’t advertise them.” 

Feeling overwhelmed when she first joined JBHS, Mrs. Wielgus was amazed when Rabbi Harari brought her a folder with his lesson plans.

She related that Rabbi Harari raised the level of observance in both the community and in his congregations.  At JBHS, he also raised the degree of learning for the girls and taught them how to be independent learners. He elevated JBHS to new heights.

“He was instrumental in enhancing the curriculum with a vast range of Torah classes, fostering hesed programs, expanding electives, and cultivating co-curricular initiatives, all aimed at nurturing well-rounded, thoughtful young adults grounded in Jewish values. His student-centered approach exemplified his lifelong dedication to hinuch, inspiring all who were privileged to learn from him,” said Mrs. Wielgus.

Heartfelt Eulogies

The eulogies for Rabbi Harari took place at his beloved yeshiva, which many called his second home. The burial took place in Israel, at the Eretz HaChaim Cemetery, outside of Beit Shemesh.

There was a common thread in the eulogies. All who spoke cited Rabbi Harari’s acumen for teaching, hinuch, his brilliance in Torah, and his humility, gentleness, keen listening skills, and positivity.

Although Rabbi Harari was a master eulogizer, he insisted for years that there would be no eulogies at his levaya. Eventually, he agreed to allow family members to speak.

Rabbi Harari was humble, modest, gentle, kind, patient, passionate, and loving. He was a wonderful listener, and was loved by his students, staff, family, and all he had a connection to. He did not care about material things. He saw the good in individuals and created space for them to feel safe. He was positive, optimistic, and friendly, talking to people at restaurants and wherever he went. For 44 years, he always prepared lessons for each class.  He was a family man and a man of logic, reason, and halacha.

Rabbi Joseph Beyda

Rabbi Joseph Beyda, the current Head of School, captured Rabbi Harari’s essence beautifully.

“Rabbi Harari ran from attention and spotlight and was one of the world’s greatest Torah teachers. He inspired an untold number of people to become Torah teachers. His technical mastery paved the way for his excellence, but it was his personal style and character that made him the best around.  He followed the vision of Rabbi Eliach, a”h, principal emeritus, and the teachings of the great Rambam, believing that silence is golden, and one should be clear and concise.  He was loved by all because of his vision, humility, his great listening skills, and his ability to provide emotional safety, and meet people where they are at. I am a recipient of his vision, and I am where I am because of him. Thank you, Rabbi. I stand on the shoulders of giants.”

Rabbi Beyda thanked the family for sharing Rabbi Harari with the Yeshiva and community and promised that the Yeshiva will strive to live up to the legacy he established for it.

The Harari Children

Rabbi Harari’s children remember him being home for family dinners and going out only afterwards to attend to his responsibilities.  They cherished their simple but wonderful vacations. 

Rabbi Harari used his quiet ways of teaching with his own children.  When they became independent, they spoke with him daily, hungry for his guidance and wisdom.  Their role model and inspiration, they went to him for answers for religious and other questions and later they drove him to chemotherapy treatments, conversing in the car. 

They thanked both their parents for leading by example, modeling an amazing marriage and allowing them to spread their wings and grow in their own ways. 

They spoke about their father’s to-do list. He was forever adding/crossing items off.  He did not go to sleep until he cleared all messages from his cell phone and email inbox.

Dr. David Harari honored his father by highlighting lessons learned from his speeches.  1) You do not have to say a lot to matter a lot.  His father’s shul speeches were limited to five to seven minutes.  He was a man of words but was also a man of action, action over chatter. 2) Do not schmaltz or be too showy.  “My father was a consummate mensch.”  3) Find someone in the room you can connect to, and all will follow.

Rabbi Harari’s son Dani articulated that his father “distilled the beautiful and uplifting aspects of a person’s soul.”  Having lost his own father at a very young age, Rabbi Rahamim took his lessons from Moshe Rabeinu, which gave him a lot of emotional patience and contributed to his mass appeal.  “My father was most at home in Israel, and he didn’t need any maps. We loved being in Israel with him.”

R’ Avi spoke about his father’s Yitro personality.  He was not envious and allowed others to succeed and develop independently.  His father practiced this trait always.  He encouraged Avi to find his own identity as a rabbi rather than just to emulate him.

“He always asked about everything he learned, ‘how can I teach this?’  It was all about his students.  He had the natural ability to make students of all ages and backgrounds feel comfortable, engaged, and excited.  It was about limud, helping them find their voice and ask questions.  As a shul rabbi, he was a mesharet bakodesh, an attendant to a holy mission and always serving others’ needs.”

Parting Words

Rabbi Avi thanked his father for being a mesharet bakodesh, an ideal father, teacher, community leader, and his role model.  Rabbi Avi added, “Your legacy will live on. Your humility, patience, wisdom, sensitivity, and dedication will always inspire all of us – your family, students, and the community.”

The Candles of Holiness

“Happy Hanukah!”

This is the familiar greeting that we extend to one another throughout the eight days of Hanukah, when we celebrate the Jews’ miraculous triumph over the Greeks, who ruthlessly governed the Land of Israel and forbade the Jews from practicing their faith.  But not many realize the deeper significance of this greeting.

The Ben Ish Hai (Rav Yosef Haim of Baghdad, 1833-1909) would make a point during the eight days of Hanukah to greet people in Hebrew, “Hanukah sameah – Happy Hanukah,” and explained that the word “sameah” is an acrostic.  The three letters that comprise this word (sin, mem, het) represent the words “Shabbat,” “milah,” and “hodesh.”  This greeting thus alludes to the three primary decrees issued by the Greek authorities in their attempt to distance the Jews from their religion.  They banned Shabbat observance, berit milah, and the declaration of the new Jewish month (Rosh Hodesh).

Some commentators add that this is the reason why the rabbis who instituted the celebration of Hanukah established specifically an eight-day holiday.  (Already the Bet Yosef (Rav Yosef Karo, author of the Shulhan Aruch, 1488-1575) raised the famous question of why eight days of celebration were instituted, given that the Hashmonaim discovered enough pure oil for one night of lighting, such that the miracle occurred for only seven days, and not eight. 

Other rabbis wondered why a ninth day of festivity is not added in the Diaspora, where an extra day of Yom Tom is added to Pesach, Shavuot, Sukkot and Shemini Atzeret.)  One answer given is that an eight-day celebration gives expression to all three decrees.  The number 8 is quite obviously associated with berit milah, which is performed on an infant’s eighth day of life, and an eight-day holiday ensures that at least one Shabbat will be included.  And, given that the holiday begins on the 25^th of Kislev, the establishment of an eight-day celebration results in its including Rosh Hodesh (Tevet), such that all three mitzvot which the Greeks outlawed are alluded to on Hanukah.

The question, of course, arises as to why the Greeks targeted specifically these three mitzvot.  What is it about these particular institutions that drew the Greeks’ attention in their effort to do away with Judaism?

The War on Kedushah

The answer, in a word, is kedushah – sanctity.

Shabbat, of course, expresses the notion of sanctity of time.  Performing forbidden work on Shabbat not only transgresses Gd’s command, but constitutes an act of desecration, as Shabbat is a sacred entity.  Berit milah is rooted in the idea of the sanctity of the human being, which requires that we exercise discipline and self-restraint in regard to physical pleasure, and not allow ourselves to freely indulge and wantonly follow our impulses as animals do.  Finally, the declaration of new months is necessary for the establishment of the Yamim Tovim, our holidays, the sacred occasions on the calendar.

In short, the Greeks’ campaign was a war on kedushah, an effort to obliterate the notion of sanctity.

Developing this point more fully, the Greeks accepted and embraced only that which could be seen and observed empirically.  They placed great emphasis on physical beauty, on appearances and on aesthetics.  And, they championed scientific inquiry and discovery.  We, of course, have nothing against physical beauty – and, in fact, aesthetics is even required in the context of mitzvah observance – and we certainly appreciate the value of scientific study and technological advancement.  The difference, though, is that for us, these are all means to a loftier end.  As Torah Jews, we seek to transcend beyond the physical and the material domains, to utilize our physical world for spiritual achievement, in the service of Hashem.  The three mitzvot targeted by the Greeks demonstrate the notion of harnessing nature for sacred purposes, using our time and our physical drives for higher ideals. 

This is something that the Greeks could not ever accept.  They passionately rejected the entire concept of kedushah, of a spiritual plane, of a dimension of life that transcends that which can be experienced with our five senses.   They thus set out to wage war against kedushah, against the very concept of holiness, the ideal of directing our physical beings and our physical reality towards a higher purpose.

Yosef Ha’tzaddik

With this in mind, we can understand the association between Hanukah and the Biblical character of Yosef.

The most obvious evidence of such an association is the Jewish calendar.  Every year, without fail, the annual Torah reading cycle reaches the story of Yosef during the time of Hanukah.  The account of his being cruelly sold by his brothers, and of his experiences as a slave in Egypt, which is told in Parashat Vayeshev, is always read either on Hanukah itself, or on the Shabbat immediately preceding Hanukah.  And the story in Parashat Miketz of Yosef’s rise to the position of Egyptian vizier is almost always read during Hanukah.

But there are also additional, albeit subtler, indications of a link between Yosef and the story of Hanukah.

The Ox’s Horn

The Midrash (Bereshit Rabbah 2:4) tells that the Greek authorities issued an edict to the Jews, commanding, “Write for yourselves on the horn of the ox: We have no share in the Gd of Israel!”  They demanded that the Jews explicitly renounce their loyalty to their faith by engraving a pronouncement to this effect “on the horn of the ox.”  Why was this inscription to be made specifically there?  What significance might there be to the ox’s horn?

One answer I saw is that people in ancient times would remove the horns of their animals and use them as baby bottles, filling them with beverages which the infant would then suck from the bottom end.  The Greeks wanted the Jewish children to be indoctrinated from the earliest age to reject Jewish faith.

Others, however, explain that the ox’s horn represented Yosef, whom Moshe likened to an ox in his blessing to Yosef’s tribes just before his passing (“Bechor shoro hadar lo” – Devarim 33:17).  The Greeks set out to eradicate Torah tradition by targeting the “ox,” the spiritual power of Yosef.

The Megaleh Amukot (Rav Natan Spira, Poland, 1585–1633) finds an allusion to the Greeks’ “war on Yosef” in that nation’s Hebrew name – “Yavan.”  The three letters of this word – yod, vav, and nun – are three of the four letters of Tziyon, the name with which the sacred city of Jerusalem is often referred.  The missing letter is tzaddi, which alludes to Yosef, who is often called “Yosef Ha’tzaddik” (“Yosef the righteous one”).  The Greeks endeavored to take “Yosef” out of Jerusalem.  They aspired to turn Jerusalem into Athens – a bustling, teeming metropolis, a leading center of culture and commerce, but without the piety represented by Yosef.  This is alluded to by the name “Yavan” – indicating that they wanted to take the “tzaddi,” the spirituality represented by Yosef, out of “Tziyon.”

Yosef is known a “Yosef Ha’tzaddik” primarily because of his extraordinary self-restraint, his ability to control his physical desires.  As a 17-year-old boy forcefully brought into a society that championed promiscuity, he was tempted by his master’s wife, who, consistently, every day, tried luring him into an illicit intimate relationship, and he refused.  Yosef embodied the quality of kedushah, the ability we have to restrain our physical drives in the pursuit of a higher spiritual purpose.  And this is precisely what the Greek Empire set out to destroy.  They ordered the formal renunciation of Jewish faith “on the horn of an ox,” to symbolize the rejection of  “Yosef Ha’tzaddik,” of the notion of kedushah that Yosef represented.  This was how they hoped to turn “Tziyon” into “Yavan,” to secularize the Jewish People and draw them away from their faith.

Kindling the Holy Lights

Each night of Hanukah, at the time of the candle lighting, we recite a special prayer in which we proclaim the purpose of the Hanukah lights – to commemorate the Hanukah miracle – and also announce, “Hanerot halalu kodesh hem” – “These candles, they are sacred.”  We then proceed to explain that due to their status of sanctity, they are forbidden for any sort of personal use, and we are allowed only to look at them (“ve’en lanu reshut lehishtamesh bahem ela lir’otam bilvad”).

The Hanukah candles are “kodesh,” reminding us of our mission to live lives characterized by sanctity.  We reflect upon the Hashmonaim’s heroic struggle against the Greek persecution, and gain inspiration from their dedication to the religious ideals which the Greeks fought against.  We remember how the Greeks sought to extinguish the flame of sanctity, and commit ourselves to continue the Hashmonaim’s effort to sustain that flame, for all eternity.

Unlike the Hashmonaim, we live in a society that offers us full religious freedom, allowing us to choose how to live and whether and how to practice religion.  However, while no government officials are forcing us to abandon our timeless principles of kedushah, we find ourselves subject to powerful cultural currents which threaten to sweep us away from those principles.  What the Greek governments’ edicts accomplished during the time of the Hanukah story is being achieved in our time through cultural messaging.  Our society shuns and even ridicules kedushah, championing instead unrestrained indulgence and the unbridled pursuit of pleasure. 

Pursuit of Holiness

The occasion of Hanukah is the time to reinforce our commitment to the “tzaddi,” to the pursuit of holiness.  Of course, we are and always will be physical beings, with physical needs and drives which we are encouraged to satisfy.  However, the Torah  teaches  us to strive for holiness by exercising moderation, to limit our indulgence, to balance our pursuit of physical enjoyment with the pursuit of spiritual excellence.  This is the message that the sacred Hanukah candles are teaching us.

If we observe Hanukah as nothing  more than a time to have parties and indulge in donuts and the other traditional Hanukah foods, then we are completely missing the point of this holiday.  While it is certainly appropriate to celebrate with the special, delectable holiday foods, our observance of Hanukah must be focused primarily on drawing inspiration from the spiritual lights, to resolve to add more kedushah to our lives, and to constantly strive for spiritual excellence.

Esther Chabbott

When Baruch Guzelgul moved to the United States from Israel in 1984, he never imagined he would one day own his own trucking business. He arrived with his wife and young daughter, carrying little more than hopes for a better future. After initially managing a car wash in Harlem, an unexpected opportunity arose that would change his life.

Starting Small

In 1986, Baruch began delivering small packages for Kedem Wine. “I would load my truck with Kedem products and deliver them to yeshivas, wine stores, and shuls year-round,” Baruch recalls. This early venture was just the beginning. Soon, he was presented with an offer from Kedem to purchase a tanker truck to transport bulk liquid wine and grape juice from Marlboro, New York, to Brooklyn. There, the wine would be bottled and distributed to retailers and businesses.

By 1997, Baruch officially founded Monsey One Trucking, initially serving as the in-house trucking company for one of the largest kosher wine producers in the United States. The business quickly gained traction, thanks to the growing demand for delivery services in the wine industry. Baruch expanded his fleet, purchasing two more trucks and hiring additional drivers to help with deliveries. For a time, Monsey One Trucking operated with just Baruch and two other drivers handling the logistics.

However, Baruch’s journey was not without its challenges. After a serious accident left him unable to work for a while, the owners of Kedem Wines, R’ Shraga Faish Herzog and his older brother R’ Shia Herzog, stepped in to offer their support. Baruch is deeply grateful for their kindness. “I will always appreciate the support of the Herzog brothers,” he says. “They’ve been with me from the start, and they especially helped when I was injured.”

Growing Big

In the wake of his recovery, Kedem offered Monsey One Trucking additional import routes, allowing Baruch to expand his business further. As a result, Monsey One Trucking hired more workers, purchased more trucks, and grew its fleet to meet the increasing demand.

Today, Monsey One Trucking operates a fleet of 20 trucks and employs a team of 20 dedicated professionals. Although the company still specializes in wine deliveries, they have expanded into other sectors as well. “We now handle container work, picking up shipments from ports for various companies,” Baruch explains. In addition to Kedem, Monsey One Trucking services clients like Royal Wine Corp. and Bumble Bee, among others.

As of 2024, Monsey One Trucking continues to thrive after 27 years in business. They provide essential services to the import community across the ports of New Jersey, New York, Delaware, and Maryland. The company’s focus on exceptional customer service and efficient logistics ensures a seamless experience for all their clients. Each truck is equipped with GPS technology, and the company adheres to all US Customs and Border Protection regulations.

To learn more or to inquire about their rates, visit www.monseyonetrucking.com.

HOW IT ALL GOT STARTED

Pnina Souid

Once, while learning Parashat Vayera a number of years ago, the Mitzvah Man was inspired by Hashem’s visit to Avraham when he was recuperating from his brit milah. The Mitzvah Man concluded that if Gd thought that bikur holim  is such an important mitzvah that He does it himself, then it must be a very important mitzvah for us to do, as well.

He thought of the best way to do this  hesed and decided to visit hospital or nursing home patients.

He collected a list of several hospital patients, and headed to the hospital where they were admitted. In the lobby he bought get-well cards and wrote a personal get-well message for each patient he visited. He included his name and phone number, adding: Please call me when you get out of the hospital. Maybe I can do an errand for you?

The patients were so touched and so excited to receive a caring visit. The card was the cherry on top, as it created a personal connection..

After visiting patients, the Mitzvah Man would return to the lobby to say Tehillim for everyone on his list.

But he thought:  how can I maximize this mitzvah? Like any salesman, he wanted better results.

In addition to hospital visits, he became a volunteer for Sephardic Bikur Holim.

SBH provided him with  a list of hospitals and homes to visit. Each patient received his personal card and on Thursday and Friday visits he brought Shabbat flowers.

When he started receiving calls, he knew he was doing something right.

SBH saw the Mitzvah Man’s commitment and success and sent him to visit prison inmates.  Next, he was assigned to visit severely mentally ill patients in locked wards of psychiatric hospitals. Many had no family. The Mitzvah Man brought cookies and coffee, cards and flowers. Most visits lasted about twenty minutes.

The Mitzvah tuned into whoever he visited, determining if he should make the visit shorter, or stay longer.  He looked for cues for how he could engage those he visited in conversation. If a game show was on TV, he would start a conversation about the show. If he noticed  a book on the table, be it a religious or a secular book, he would start a conversation about what they were reading. Talking about something they were already interested in was a tool he used to create a connection.

The Mitzvah Man started visiting 10 people a week, then 20. At the end of two years, he had visited 500 people!

The visits became a central part of his life.. He felt “addicted” to them! If  he didn’t visit, he missed doing so, and did not feel good.

People he had visited called him to do errands and pay visits. His base was Brooklyn. He did not venture to Manhattan to make visits until SBH gave him a list of four people to visit at NYU. Since each of the four patients were in different buildings, he took the day off to allow him time to go from one building to the other.

As fortune would have it, the first patient had been released the night before. He felt disappointed, but went to see the next patient. After waiting for 30 minutes, he began to get irritable but quickly reminded himself: don’t get irritable, you came to do a mitzvah. Then he found out she had been released, too.

He changed his attitude. Wouldn’t it be great if all the patients he came to see were able to go home! He thought: the attitude is up to you and the outcome is up to Hashem! I am doing holy work. The third patient was released, and he prayed for the fourth patient to be released, too. Yes! That patient had been released also. The Mitzvah Man left with a huge smile on his face, knowing he was working for Hashem.

After being crowded out of  the elevator to the lobby, he calmly waited for the next one. When he arrived at the lobby a woman from the community recognized him and asked why he was there. He responded that he visits patients. She excitedly asked if he could visit her husband who was having major surgery in ten minutes. Of course, the Mitzvah Man visited him, gave his wife his card, and reassured them. “See how Hashem works! He saw my desire to visit and fulfilled it,” he said.

The Mitzvah man concludes, “I learned that when we do a mitzvah – do it with all your heart. This is how I came to give the cards with my phone number, bring flowers if the visitation was close to Shabbat, and say Tehillim for everyone that I visited.”

Rabbi Yehuda Finchas

Telling the Truth to End-of-Life Patients

Rochelle’s dilemma kept her awake at night. Her mother, Miriam, has been diagnosed with a life-threatening illness. Understanding the gravity of the situation, Rochelle was unsure how to disclose the news to her mother. On one hand, Miriam had a right to know the truth about her condition, as patient autonomy is an essential ethical value. On the other hand, Rochelle wanted to protect her mother. She feared the news might harm her mother and Rochelle didn’t want her mother to lose hope or spirit. “Rabbi,” she asked me, “what should I do?”

Delivering Traumatic News

Delivering traumatic news requires care, especially for those who are ill. Hacham Ovadia, zt”l,  (Hazon Ovadia, Avelut, Vol. 1, p. 76) offers a nuanced perspective on Rochelle’s dilemma. The Shulchan Aruch states that a dying person should recite Vidui (a special confession before death, Shulchan Aruch Y.D. 338:1, based on Shabbat 32a). However, Hacham Ovadia cites the Shach, noting that this applies only to a patient who is imminently dying. Prior to that stage, disclosing critical information may cause the patient harm, and therefore Vidui should be postponed until they are nearing death.

Hacham Ovadia explains that even if a patient asks their physician, “Will I make it through this illness?” the physician should respond, “Hopefully, with Hashem’s help, you will recover,” regardless of their personal belief. This approach is intended to shield the patient from harm and to help them to maintain their hope.

Hacham Ovadia’s rationale is supported by an exchange between Elisha Hanavi and Hazael, the messenger of King Ben Haddad, who was critically ill. Hazael inquired whether King Ben Haddad would live or die, and Elisha instructed him to tell the king that he would live, despite knowing he would not. The rationale was that disclosing the truth could have lethal consequences for the king (Melachim 2:8-10). The verse states that Ben Haddad would “not live,” “not” is spelled lamed alef. But the word “not” can also be read lamed vav – “to him: “Tell [to] him (Ben Haddad) he will live.” Similarly, Rashi notes that Sarah Imenu died after hearing the news of the Akedah, believing her son Yitzhak had perished (Rashi, Beresheet 23:3). This highlights the need for caution when conveying traumatic news.

Trust in Hashem and Do Not Give Up Hope

Hacham Ovadia also emphasizes that medical misdiagnoses are not uncommon, and treatment can still be effective, particularly early in an illness when the prognosis remains unclear. He stresses that patients should always place their faith in Hashem, never lose hope, and continue to pray “even if a sword is placed on their throat” (Berachot 10a) – meaning they should maintain faith even in dire circumstances, as Hashem can annul any decree.

Practically, it may be impossible or counterproductive to conceal the truth entirely. For example, cancer patients must provide consent for treatments like chemotherapy or surgery. However, this information should be communicated compassionately, focusing on the positive aspects of treatment in order to prevent distress and maintain hope. If a physician struggles to communicate appropriately with a patient, they should relay the information to family members who can convey it sensitively. Conversations that could distress the patient should also be avoided in their presence.

Compassion Is Key

Returning to Rochelle’s dilemma, while truth-telling is a fundamental aspect of Judaism, it is not always the highest priority. Sometimes, it may be appropriate to soften the truth or to emphasize positive aspects to protect an ill person from harm. Ultimately, these decisions should be made based on the illness, prognosis, and treatment plan. Discussions on how to proceed should include family members, the patient’s physicians, and the rabbi, to ensure the well-being of their loved one.

Rabbi Yehuda Finchas is a recognized expert, lecturer, and author on Medical Halacha. He is the head of the Torat Habayit Medical Halacha Institute. His latest book is “Brain Death in Halacha and the Tower of Babel Syndrome.” To contact Rabbi Finchas, please email rabbi@torathabayit.com.