Journeys of the Soul

The Broodo family of Dallas, Texas is now a well-established Orthodox family. They’re leaders and role models in their community. However one event during their first Shabbat experience almost derailed their teshuva journey. If it was not for the quick thinking of their hosts, their lives might have been very different today.

Ken and Beth Broodo were both raised in non-Orthodox Jewish homes. Ken is a lawyer, and several years ago a local Jewish organization, the Dallas Area Torah Association (DATA), the “community kollel,” sponsored a onetime lunch-n-learn at his law firm. It was delivered by a big-name visiting rabbi. Ken attended the event and enjoyed it, but didn’t feel particularly changed by it.

The event put the Broodos on DATA’s mailing list, and six months later they received an invitation to a DATA seminar on the upcoming holiday of Purim. The Broodos acknowledged that they knew very little about their Judaism and were very curious to learn more, so they decided to attend the event.

At the event, DATA rabbis spoke about various topics of Purim. One topic, the Hidden Mask of Nature, peaked their curiosity. The speaker, Rabbi Aryeh Feigenbaum, surprised them by pointing out that Hashem’s name is never mentioned in the Megillah but His hand is apparent throughout the whole story.

“Only when you look back do you see Hashem’s hand in it. Even when I say it now I get chills. I had never heard something of that depth about the Torah. It was an interesting phenomenon to me,” Ken said.

Ken was fascinated by the presentation and impressed by Rabbi Feigenbaum. Ken stayed afterwards to drill him with a slew of other questions.

Following the seminar, the Broodos began attending other classes sponsored by DATA. Ken began studying one-on-one with Rabbi Feigenbaum each week. He and his wife began seeing the truth and beauty of Judaism and began to realize that this was the spirituality they were craving in their lives. However they were somewhat intimidated by the observances and cautious about jumping into anything too religious.

Rabbi Feigenbaum had given them an open invitation to come to synagogue on a Friday night and to his home for Shabbat dinner. The Broodos were intrigued by the opportunity to learn more and to get closer to the Feigenbaums. They were uncertain about what the experience would be like, but were excited about the opportunity. One Friday night they decided to take him up on it.

As soon as they entered the Feigenbaum’s house, the Broodos were made comfortable by their hosts’ warm welcome, the beauty of their Shabbat table and the obvious love and holiness that filled the home.

“It was my first Shabbat dinner. I was very taken by the whole scene – the white tablecloth, the silver Kiddush cup, the candles, the singing and the Divrai Torah,” Ken said.

Ken especially loved Mrs. Feigenbaum’s homemade Challah. He had never eaten homemade challah before, and he found it to be absolutely delicious.

After finishing his first piece, Ken craved a second slice. The challah was sitting in a metal wire basket in the middle of the table, amidst all sorts of dishes and just on the other side of Mrs. Feigenbaum’s beautiful silver Shabbat candlesticks. Ken tried asking other people to pass him the bowl, but he couldn’t get anyone’s attention. So he decided to lean across the table and pick up the challah bowl himself.

The challah basket was lined with a napkin. As he carried the basket over the items on the table, Ken lifted it over the Shabbat candles, and within a second, it caught fire and turned into a giant bowl of flaming challah!

Ken dropped the burning basket onto the table and was about the douse it with his glass of water, when the rabbi leaned over the table and said ‘Stop!’ Rabbi Feigenbaum picked up the basket, carried to the front porch and let it burn out.

Ken felt extremely embarrassed that he had set the Feigenbaum’s challah on fire. He was ready to leave the meal at the first opportunity and never come back again. But when Ken and wife finally did put on their coats to leave, without missing a beat, Mrs. Feigenbaum responded in a way that immediately turned around his negative feelings.

“Stop worrying about it,” she said to Ken. “The next time you want toast for Shabbat, just let me know in advance!”

Mrs. Feigenbaum’s quip put a smile back on Ken’s face and helped the Broodos stay on their path of growth towards Jewish observance.

“When Mrs. Feigenbaum said that, we all laughed. I realized that no one judged me for making such a ridiculous mistake. Then I felt accepted” Ken explained. “When you’re not frum and you’re around people that are, the one thing you feel sure of is that you are being judged and not accepted.”

The burning challah episode was a critical point in the Broodos’ life. If their hosts had handled it in any other way, they might have never come back. Instead they returned for many more meals in the Feigenbaum home and grew extremely close to the family. They began attending additional classes and started coming to the community frequently for Shabbat.

The Broodos eventually moved into the neighborhood. Several years later, the new local Orthodox synagogue was founded in their living room, and they remain extremely involved to this day. They also now frequently host newcomers to the community. And for anyone who seems uncomfortable by being in an Orthodox home for Shabbat, Ken eases their worries by telling them the story about the Shabbat night that he set the rabbi’s challah on fire.

————————————————————–

Michael Gros is the former Chief Operating Officer of the outreach organization The Atlanta Scholars Kollel. He writes from Ramat Beit Shemesh, Israel. The Teshuva Journey column chronicles uplifting teshuva journeys and inspiring kiruv tales. Send comments to michaelgros@gmail.com

Published in The Jewish Press in March 2010

Daniel Peer first found his Jewish spark on a battlefield in the heart of Gaza.

Peer grew up in Nivot Alit in the north of Israel. Though he didn’t grow up observant, he knew how to pray and occasionally put on tefillin.

Peer entered the IDF in November 2001. As a boy he had learned Taekwondo, and the IDF trained him further in hand-to-hand combat. When he finished basic training, Peer was sent to Gaza.

Peer typically worked in teams with three other soldiers. Their mission was to scout out territory, collect information and find and destroy Kassam missile factories. They also routinely were assigned the job of locating and arresting wanted terrorists. Peer’s close-combat experience proved essential for the assignment.

“Every day in Gaza people are trying to kill you,” Peer said. “A lot of bad things were going on. It was scary.”

In addition to combat missions, Peer was also trained later as an operator of the IDF’s large armored bulldozers, some of which are the size of monster trucks. He was sent to Gaza on several occasions to destroy missile factories and terrorist hideouts.

Peer spent a lot of time in Gaza, both in his bulldozer and on foot. He would prefer to forget most of the missions, but one experience will always stay with him.

He and another soldier were in Gaza on an operation. They were running between buildings just feet from each other. Suddenly Peer saw his partner stumble and then crumple to the ground. His uniform was stained with blood. He had been shot by a sniper hiding in a nearby house. Within minutes, his life drained out of him.

The incident was a wake-up call for Peer. The fact that he had survived when the other soldier did not left a deep impression on him.

“HaKodesh Baruch Hu saved my life. It was not like lot there were a lot of people. There were only two people and it was either him or me. Something was going on. You have to believe it.”

Peer clearly saw Hashem’s hand in his salvation. He knew that Hashem had saved his life, but he did not understand why.

Peer was discharged from the IDF in 2004. He was called up for reserve duty in the summer of 2005 to help remove Jews from Gush Katif during the Disengagement. The IDF sent him one letter calling him up, then another and finally a red letter, which is typically followed by arrest if not followed. Peer refused all of the orders.

At the time, the Israeli government was debating whether IDF soldiers should tear down synagogues in the communities of Gush Katif. Though they eventually decided against it, if the government had given the order to destroy the synagogues, Peer knew that it would be his job as a bulldozer operator to carry it out. Hashem had saved his life in Gaza and Peer knew he could not return now to destroy a synagogue there.

Something deep inside Peer cried out to him to refuse the orders. The pintele yid in him, the Jewish spark that he had discovered on the Gaza street, reminded him that synagogues were places of holiness.

“I couldn’t take Jews out of Gush Katif. I told them I won’t do it,” Peer said. “I would have had to destroy a Beit Knesset.”

The Disengagement came and went. Peer did not participate, and yet he somehow avoided arrest. Throughout this time questions kept filling his head - Why did I survive? Why did G-d save me? What’s my purpose in this world?

Following that summer, Peer moved to the United States with an army buddy and settled in New York City. Peer’s friend had family members who lived in Lakewood and who invited him to come for Shabbat. After a few months in America his friend decided to spend a Shabbat in Lakewood and Peer tagged along.

With their long hair and sandals, the two men looked exceptionally out of place in Lakewood. But the family welcomed them with open arms.

Though he had gone to synagogue every Saturday growing up, this was the first real Shabbat he had ever experienced. During Shabbat they sang songs together with the family and delved into the deeper meaning of many fundamental Jewish concepts. They also learned together some of the laws of Shabbat. Peer was deeply touched by the experience. He was mesmerized by the love he saw in the family and the beautiful community of Lakewood.

“Baruch Hashem my soul liked to listen to everything,” Peer said.

Peer felt the strong tug of the Jewish spark inside of him. After Shabbat he went back to New York City, packed up his stuff and soon after moved to Lakewood. He wanted desperately to soak up everything, to learn more about his religion.

“HaKodesh Baruch Hu kept me safe and sound in the army for this.”

Peer learned for one year in a yeshiva in Lakewood, and then spent time learning in Monsey and Boro Park. He’s now back living in Israel. The spark that he discovered on the Gaza battlefield has been the thrust of his Jewish growth ever since. And just as it helped him to survive his physical battle, it continues to inspire his daily spiritual battles as well.

————————————————————–

Michael Gros is the former Chief Operating Officer of the outreach organization The Atlanta Scholars Kollel. He writes from Ramat Beit Shemesh, Israel. The Teshuva Journey column chronicles uplifting teshuva journeys and inspiring kiruv tales. Send comments to michaelgros@gmail.com

Published in The Jewish Press in February 2010