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Parshas Pinchas - Finding One’s Unique Purpose

By Avraham Cohen

Posted on 07/29/16

Parshas HaShavua Divrei Torah sponsored by
Dr. Shapsy Tajerstein, DPM - Podiatry Care.
(410) 788-6633

“Hee’n’nee no’sain lo es bree’see shalom ’  v Behold – I give hime My covenant of peace"  Numbers 25:12


Rabbi Yaacov Haber shlit”a, writes regarding this week’s parshah that the lesson of Pinchas is to find our moment, to find our unique purpose in life – and not be afraid to act upon the discovery, letting nothing hold us back. When we achieve this lofty goal, like Pinchas, we will be blessed with a covenant of deep peace for us and for our children.


There is an irony to the ‘covenant of peace’ which Pinchas received, since it was achieved through an act of extreme violence. What is the take-home message the Torah is trying to impress upon us with this episode? Certainly, we are not encouraged to take up weapons of violence and show our dedication to G-d and his Torah through brute force and physical might! Even for Pinchas, a soul of the purest character and refined action, there is a hint of criticism in the written text, since the letter ‘vav’ in the word ‘shalom’ is written with a crack in it.


Rather, should we not focus on how we must each find our own unique way to become a ka’na’ee – extremely zealous and steadfast in our attachment to G-d, Torah and mitzvos? When you find out who you truly are and channel that energy into a deep relationship with G-d, then He will grant us our own covenant of peace.


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Sara Yoheved Rigler wrote an article for aish.com about “The Secret Life of Gershon Burd”. Gershon Burd was born in Odessa in 1973. Three years later his parents immigrated to Chicago. Proud but non-observant Jews, they were not equipped to give their only son and two daughters a Jewish education. Greg (as he was known) went to public school, played on his high school football team, became a lifeguard, and got a B.A. in business from the Indiana University.


Greg was 25 years old and working in his father’s insurance agency when his mother invited him to come with her to a Torah class at Rabbi Daniel Deutsch’s Chicago Torah Network. Greg loved the class, and made an appointment to speak to Rabbi Deutsch privately. He brought with him a list of one hundred questions.


Three months later Greg flew to Israel to learn Torah at Ohr Sameach. He told his parents, “I’m in preschool; I don’t know anything about Judaism.” Ten months later he returned to Chicago, saying, “I’m in kindergarten; I have to learn more.” Every year, he returned to Jerusalem, and  every year his refrain was, “I’m in first grade; I’m in second grade” etc.


At the age of 30, Greg (now Gershon) married Batya Fefer, 28. She, too, came from a Russian family. Raised in Toronto, Batya was a lawyer working for Toronto’s top corporate tax firm when she decided that there had to be more to life. Her spiritual search took her to Nepal, where she climbed Mt. Annapurna, to India, where she met the Dalai Lama, and to a dozen other countries. Back in Toronto, a friend told her about a free Birthright trip that would take her to Israel. Batya decided that that was a good way to get halfway back to India. However, once in Israel, she started learning about Judaism at EYAHT (Aish HaTorah’s women’s division); she became observant, and in 2003 married Gershon Burd. They settled in the Old City.


To celebrate his 40th birthday, Gerson arranged for him and his wife to have an overnight getaway at Tel Aviv’s Sheraton Hotel; he told Batya that he paid for the mini-vacation with ‘credit card points’. Friends agreed to watch their five children. Gershon’s favorite recreation was swimming in the ocean. He and Batya deposited their things in their hotel room and went to the beach. Taking one look at the muddy water, Batya opted to sit on the shore. Gershon, an expert swimmer and trained lifeguard, plunged into the waves. Minutes later, a rock or large piece of debris struck him in the back of the neck. Knocked unconscious, he was under water for 15 minutes before Batya, desperately scanning the sea with her eyes, saw her husband’s body float up toward the beach.


It was during shiva that the secret life of Gershon Burd began to be revealed.


On the second day of the shiva, a woman Batya knew from the kehillah appeared in the Burd home. As Batya recounts, “She looked at me with funny expression and said, ‘I’m going to tell you something you don’t know. No one in the world knows this except me and your husband.’” The woman paused, as if reluctant to divulge her secret. “For nine years, I was the front for your husband’s tzedaka [charity] fund.” Batya was dumbfounded, “What tzedaka fund?” The woman continued: “Your husband came to me with money every month and a list of names. I would call the people and they would come to me to pick up the money. They never knew who it came from.”


The proprietor of a stationery store in the Old City told Batya the he was the front for her husband’s ‘helium balloon gemach’! Everyone in the Jewish Quarter of the Old City knew that a certain stationery store would give a free helium balloon to every child on his or her birthday; two free helium balloons for a Bar or Bat Mitzvah! Since most of the children in the Old City come from large, low-income families, a helium balloon is a real glee-producer. The Burd children themselves were among those who were recipients of this delightful prize. No one knew who was sponsoring the free balloons. Paying a shiva call, the store owner revealed to Batya that Gershon had been paying for the helium balloons; at the end of every month, he would slip into the store and surreptitiously pay for that month’s balloons.


One of his study partners recalled how Gershon would purposely choose a seat in the yeshiva across from the entrance so he could smile at people as they walked in. He was affable and gentle; everyone considered Gershon a nice guy. But no one realized just how ‘nice’ he was.


Rabbi Nissim Tagger (the head of Yeshivas Bircas HaTorah, where Gershon was both learning and working as administrator) recalled that once Gershon had approached him, asking the Rosh Yeshiva to accept as a student a young man named David, whom Gershon intuited had tremendous potential. Rabbi Tagger had seen David, with his long, curled peyot and hippie-ish dress. “He doesn’t fit in at all with our Yeshivah,” Rabbi Tagger refused. “He looks like that, but it’s not who he really is,” Gershon begged. “Will he pay tuition?” Rabbi Tagger queried. “No,” Gershon answered simply. “He has no money.” “I have no scholarships available,” replied Rabbi Tagger.


The next day, Gershon returned to Rabbi Tagger and said, “David’s parents decided to pay for most of his tuition, and he’ll do odd jobs to pay for the rest.” With misgivings, Rabbi Tagger decided to give David a two-week trial period. Three years later, David is an accomplished Torah scholar at the yeshiva. Only after Gershon’s death did Rabbi Tagger find out that David’s parents had not paid a penny. It was Gershon who paid David’s tuition. “He lied to me straight to my face,” Rabbi Tagger said at the shiva house, holding back his tears.


Another friend of Gerson’s related the following story: The wife of one of the students of the yeshiva had not seen her parents back in America for several years. When she received news that her mother was ill, she wanted to fly back, but she didn’t have enough money for airfare. Hearing about it, Gershon told the woman about a credit card company that was offering a fantastic deal. If she signed up for the credit card and paid just $50, she would receive enough miles to get a free round-trip ticket. Gershon even showed her the promotion on his laptop, and offered to sign her up, explaining that he too would get miles for referring her. The woman happily gave Gershon the information to sign her up, got her ticket, and flew to America to be with her mother. She never knew that Gershon had made up the whole promotion, even devising the graphic of the ad. Gershon himself paid for her ticket.


Once Gershon decided that a struggling family in the community really needed to take their children for a fun day at “Kef-Tzuba,” an attraction with giant blow-up trampolines, castles, etc. The family lacked the funds for such an outing, so Gershon got them a free coupon. They never knew that Gershon had paid for their admission and had fabricated the professional-looking coupon.


When Gershon became aware of couples who were experiencing marital friction, he would surreptitiously pay for therapy sessions for them, with neither the couple nor the therapist aware of who was paying.


Gershon also created a project entitled “Western Wall Prayers,” (with Batya in charge). This is a service where people all over the world can pay to have someone go to the Kotel and pray for them for 40 consecutive days. Not only have hundreds of people had their prayers answered through this age-old custom, but also money raised through the project supports many families of Torah scholars in the Old City.


Why did Gershon go to such lengths to hide his charitable acts? Batya explained, “He really believed that if the giver gets something from their acts of chesed, it diminishes the act. If someone knows what you did, then it means you got something from it. The mitzvah is much more powerful if you get nothing … in this world. The real reward is waiting in the Next World.”


Rebbetzin Rigler summarizes her article by reminding us that hiddenness is a sacred value in Judaism. Chazal teach us that the world is sustained in every generation by the merit of thirty-six hidden tzaddikim. The zealousness of Pinchas was a very public act; but up until that very public act, the fire and purpose within him was a very private affair. We see from the story of Gershon (and Batya) Burd, being a zealot can be done quietly, with steadfast purpose over the course of a lifetime, however long that may be.


Gershon’s red carpet to Olam Haba is lined with helium balloons, fake coupons, fictional credit card promotions, an anonymous charity fund, undercover tuition payments, surreptitiously sponsored marriage counseling sessions, and how many other hidden acts of chesed that we will never know of. How will our path to the World of Truth look after our short sojourn here of who knows how long?