Satmar Rebbe In Israel And The Daf

By Rabbi Aaron I. Reichel, Esq.

Spoiler alert: Notwithstanding the title of this article, although the Satmar Rebbe did indeed make it to Israel recently, he did not make it into the Daf Yomi on any day of his highly publicized visit, nor did any other contemporary rabbi. Actually, daf 68 itself in Zevachim, pored over during his visit, has nothing particularly to do with the Satmar Rebbe nor to his highly publicized trip to Israel this week, but one thing leads to another, and a study of the daf leads to an appreciation of the Satmar Rebbe, in a way. If this seems farfetched, it is because it is. But this particular daf includes an association—by a Rabbi Yehoshua—that may seem to be even more farfetched, probably as indirect as can be, so it lends itself to an association that may be indirect, but maybe even less so!

The Talmud discusses what happens if a woman made a vow to sacrifice certain birds, but, to make a long and complicated story short, there was a mix-up and some confusion as to whether the birds to be sacrificed were the correct ones, so seven birds had to be sacrificed to cover all options and to enable her to keep her vow.

Somehow, Rabbi Yehoshua said this reminded him—some say this was a parable to explain the situation—about what people say about a ram (some say a sheep): When it is alive it makes one sound (or one instrument can be fashioned out of it), but when it is dead it makes seven sounds (or seven instruments can be fashioned from it). Rashi elaborates that its two horns become chatzotzros (trumpets), its two shinbones become flutes, its skin becomes a drumhead, its large intestines become harp strings, and its small intestines become lyre strings.

This leads to a whole discussion as to whether the chatzotzros have to be made of silver, not an animal’s horn. One explanation is that it had to be made of silver in Moshe’s generation; an animal’s horn later; another explanation is that the Kohanim blew chatzotzros made of silver; Leviim could blow from chatzotzros made of horns of animals.

But now we approach the point of this article, and the connection to the Satmar Rebbe. Rabbi Shalom Rosner notes that the chatzotzros have to be created anew in each generation; the chatzotzros have the function of dramatically inspiring the people; and each generation is receptive to inspiration in a different way. This concludes a condensed excerpt of what Rabbi Rosner said on this point in one of his daf yomi lectures. Some examples are there was a time when orators inspired their listeners with fire and brimstone, with loud and pompous exhortations, arms flailing, and so on. Nowadays, speakers often influence people conversationally. Demonstrators attempt to influence people with chants—hopefully without curses and violence. Different people in different generations influence people differently. Ah, and now we come to the Satmar Rebbe. He influences people his own way, and we just saw it in Israel.

P.S. Rabbi Norman Lamm, when he was the president and rosh yeshiva of Yeshiva University, once eulogized one of the few rabbis on his staff known—and renown—for his widely considered biting extremism—especially by the standards of Yeshiva University. Lamm referred to a Gemara in chapter Haro’eh that speaks of someone seeing a drum in a dream. He used that imagery to point out that different leaders “march to the beat of a different drummer” (and not banging on the drum referred to by Rashi earlier).

It has been said that Yiftach b’doro k’Shmuel b’doro—Yiftach in his generation as Shmuel in his generation. Each generation merits tzadikim based on their own generation and maybe based on their own definitions. Although many of us may have strong opinions, and some of us may have “extreme” perspectives, perhaps it is not for us to judge who is “right” and who is too much to the right.

May our leaders figure out ways to inspire us all in the most effective ways possible, geared to our generation and preferences, and may they inspire the rest of the world to recognize goodness for what it is, and evil for what it is, and to react accordingly. 

Rabbi Aaron I. Reichel, Esq, wrote a biography of Rabbi Herbert S. Goldstein, The Maverick Rabbi, whose style of preaching was probably somewhere in between both extremes described above, but who is widely acknowledged to have made his place in modern Jewish history by creatively and successfully transplanting the values of ancient Judaism, and then East European Judaism, to “American” Judaism.