Article by Rabbi Eli Silberstein of Ithaca, NY: My father was a businessman his entire life, yet anyone who knew him immediately recognized that his deepest passion was Torah. He lived with Hashem’s kiss every single day of his life.
By Rabbi Eli Silberstein – Chabad of Ithaca, NY
My father’s, Reb Shmuel Meir ben Reb Moshe A”H, Yartzeit is on Gimmel Adar. It usually falls around Parshas Terumah. As the Rebbe consistently taught us to seek meaning in our personal life events through the prism of the weekly Parsha, I’d like to highlight a unique feature of my father’s legacy—particularly meaningful for those who identify as Baalei Eisek, businessmen. Perhaps the Rebbe’s directive about correlating life events to the Parsha also applies beautifully to the Chassidishe Parsha as well.
In Torah Or on Parshas Terumah, the Alter Rebbe profoundly discusses the extraordinary value of Torah study, comparing its unique power of connection with Hashem to the spiritual intimacy once experienced in the Mishkan or the Beis Hamikdash. He acknowledges that some Jews are privileged to dedicate their entire lives to Torah study, continually experiencing this intimate bond. Others, however, must navigate a different reality: much of their time is spent engaging with mundane worldly pursuits. Nevertheless, they too have the mitzvah to set aside time daily for Torah study.
Classical Mussar teachings often depict this scenario as a spiritual hierarchy: the scholar who studies Torah full-time enjoys constant unity with Hashem, while the working Jew can only intermittently experience this elevated bond through daily Torah study after a long day of work.
Chassidus, however, provides a dramatically different perspective. The Alter Rebbe, in Torah Or Parshas Terumah, elaborates on this, quoting the poignant verse from Shir Hashirim (8:1): “Mi Yitencha Ke’Ach Li, Yonek Shdei Immi” – “Who will grant that you be like my brother, nursing from my mother’s breasts?” Shir Hashirim, rich with metaphor, symbolizes the relationship between a Jew and Hashem. Here, “Ach” (brother) shares a root with “Me’achin” (to bond), suggesting sibling-like closeness deriving from common parentage.
The Jewish people, pained by the loss of the Beis Hamikdash, cry out yearningly for that lost intimacy: “Who can restore that deep closeness we once enjoyed?” Hashem’s comforting reply is encapsulated in the words “Yonek Shdei Immi” – “nurse from the milk of your mother.” Our Sages teach us that the written and oral Torah metaphorically represent our father and mother. Through Torah study, one achieves an intimate bond with Hashem, as our Sages declare: since the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash, Hashem resides within the “four cubits of Halacha.” Torah study thus becomes Hashem’s home in exile, replicating the warm intimacy previously found within the Temple.
Yet the verse in Shir Hashirim continues: “Emtza’acha Bachutz, Eshakcha” – “I will find you outside, and I will kiss you.” Here, says the Alter Rebbe, is a profound message for those unable to devote their entire day to Torah. This Jew, occupied predominantly with worldly matters—”outside” the walls of continuous Torah study—experiences a unique expression of love from Hashem: a kiss. A kiss expresses a love beyond the capacity of mere words. Hashem deeply values the sacrifice and dedication of a Jew who breaks away from worldly concerns to learn Torah, eliciting such enormous love that it surpasses even the constant intimacy experienced by full-time Torah scholars.
My father was a businessman his entire life, yet anyone who knew him immediately recognized that his deepest passion was Torah. He dedicated significant hours daily to the study of Talmud, Chassidus, and more.
I recall visiting his office in the Antwerp diamond center, where he eagerly grasped a Talmud to study vigorously between business appointments. During the Nazi occupation of France, my father spent time in Marseille, where he taught teenage students in an underground yeshiva. Unshaken by the pervasive fear and panic of Nazi exposure, he immersed himself deeply in Torah study. His unwavering devotion profoundly inspired the young students he taught.
Over the years, my father had various partners with whom he studied Talmud. I remember clearly one partner—a young man not naturally gifted in Talmudic studies. My father patiently guided him through the complexities of Talmudic logic, viewing these sessions as sacred acts of giving rather than opportunities for intellectual fulfillment. Witnessing his painstaking efforts to help this young man master the intricacies of Talmud study highlighted for me my father’s deep-seated conviction: Torah study was not merely intellectual pursuit, but a profound act of kindness, generosity, and dedication.
The Talmud teaches that truly righteous individuals leave this world with a kiss from Hashem. I’m not entirely sure if my father merited that final kiss, but I do know, he lived with Hashem’s kiss every single day of his life.
Thank you for this beautiful column, it gave me lot’s of chizzuk and provoked positive thoughts and insight.
May your father’s Neshamah have an aliyah.
Reb Eli, Thank you for sharing this practical legacy of your father’s love for Torah. I feel inspired to learn more. May your father’s neshomo have an aliyah.