Wake up and see the truth

I thought that once I left the Yeshiva High School of the Twin Cities that I would be done with shlichus. No longer would wake up at 7 every morning, walk a mile in the freezing cold to Yeshiva, and then spend fifteen minutes waiting for my kid chavrusas to get up out of bed so we could learn a little. And again, the whole day I was pressuring kids to do this or that, and while it was rewarding, and looking back I see that I really loved it, nevertheless, it does have its downsides. When us shluchim first arrived there we were told that the bochurim looked up to us, because we were bochurim like them, not hanhala. We could make a difference. We had the power.
While this is true to a certain extent, the very fact that we had the name "shluchim" hampered our ability. The bochurim had certain expectations of us, and we of the bochurim, and neither of these necessarily enhanced our ability to do our job properly.
On the first day of coming to Morristown Rabbi Chaim Schapiro sat us down and read the riot act, including this gem, "The younger bochurim look up to you. No, that's not true, they'll use you as an excuse." And it's very true. But at the same time, as a smicha bochur, the bochurim, or at least some of them, do seem to be affected by us.
For example, I learn with a younger Bochur by Chassidus at night. He knows that if we're not learning, or if the bullshove isn't interesting me, than I'll either just open up a sefer and learn by myself or else pick up and leave. Because at this age, I'm (usually) not too interested in wasting my time. Last year I couldn't do this, because I had a responsibility to learn with my kiddies. But now, there's no such thing. You're not interested? No problem, but don't expect anything from me.
That's one of the problems with being a shliach in yeshiva. You can't curse out kids, and let them have a piece of your mind. And even when you do, it just doesn't sound right. But now? I farbreng with this bochur at least once a week, just stam in the middle of seder. And believe it or not, he listens to me. He thinks I make sense. Let's not kid ourselves, he hasn't transformed himself or anything, but still, I like to think that I'm having a positive affect. He's also done something that never happened last year in Minnesota-he's asked me to farbreng for his class. As a smicha bochur, I'm somehow able to do so much more because it's not my job.
All those guys in smicha pogrims, they're missing out on so much. Come to MoTown, or even LA, and do so much more shlichus than you ever did while on shlichus. Because, yeah, we got the power.
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Meanwhile, in other news, I finally finished labeling all my posts. It was a major pain, and the astute reader will notice that the criterion for labeling changed over time. Sometimes I just made a new label, and other times I realized that I was labeling shtuff incorrectly. Be that as it may, I think you'll enjoy it. Most of them are pretty self-explanatory. The Farbrengen label has some really great shtuff. The shtuff label? Not so much.
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Last night we had a hakhel/hungry gathering with Rabbi Wagner from our very own Tiferes Bachurim. He said a well-known mashal that I liked, so I'll give it over to you too. Sorry I can't provide you with the second part, the onion rings and Coke, you had to be there. By the way, since when did Liebers (or whoever makes them) change their onion rings? I much preferred the old variety. Anyway...

A chassid, back in the day, once came to the big city and he heard everyone speaking about this incredible new thing; the cinema. Being a curious type he went in, and after buying himself a large Coke and (the original, and much better) onion rings he sauntered down the aisle and found himself a seat. He was amazed at what he saw-people having a conversation on the screen. Incredible! Only problem was, it was so dark in there. He couldn't see. Being a resourceful chassid, he pulled a flashlight out of his vest (did I mention that he was a Zirkind?) and shone it upon the screen. The picture immediately disappeared, and everyone else in the theatre began to hurl invectives at him (in Russian of course). He didn't get it; "What's the problem?", he said, "I was just trying to make it light so that I could see better." It took them a while, but they finally explained to him that in fact the people on the screen weren't there; it was only the darkness in the room that allowed them to seem real.

There's this miserable thing called Galus. We're all suffering in it. We look around the world, at everything that goes on, and become convinced that it's all really going on. We allow ourselves to be affected. The truth is though, it doesn't really exist. Everything that's going on is merely a show. All we have to do is shine a flashlight, and suddenly all will be revealed. What's our flashlight? Ner Mitzvah v'Torah Ohr. Our flashlight is our Torah and Mitzvos. And once we turn those on, this whole galus will be revealed as a fake. It's not reality, just a projection on the real world, G-d's world.
The world doesn't want you to shine that flashlight. It enjoys thinking itself real. The world screams at you, "Why are you showing my true colors? Let yourself be affected. Let yourself think that nature rules, that there's only one way to get ahead in life, to survive." Our mission is to ignore the naysayers, to reveal what's already there.
So why is it dark? Because, if it wasn't, there'd be no battle. Everything would be obvious. we need Galus to fulfill what we have to do.
But you know what? We've done all we can. The mission is over. The buttons have been polished. There's no reason for it to be dark anymore.