Chummus and whitefish too!

There seems to be an inherent desire to read someone else's view about what we've experienced. Often this recap will not only tell us what we've seen but will shape our own opinion; sometimes we'll argue, but more often than not we'll think that the writer's vision is the truth, and not merely one man's interpretation.

This past shabbos was, as I'm sure you all know, a shabbaton for nearly all the bochurim currently learning issar v'heter in the holy confines of the Rabbinical College of America. Several people have asked me what I wrote about the shabbos, and until now I've had to tell them "nothing." I've explained this curious lack of commentary on the past week's day of rest by saying that in fact there really wasn't too much to write. Which is true. At the same time, of course, it is shocking to suggest that Rabbi Chaim Schapiro spoke for several hours without saying anything, so I'll try to pass on a few of the snippets I recall.

There was once a guy who came to stay at some guy's house in a foreign village for shabbos. After shabbos was over the guest was prepared to leave, but the host begged and pleaded him to stay for just one more night. The guest, being a kind and compassionate fellow, acquiesced to his host's request, and he stayed there for motzei shabbos. The same thing happened the next night, and the next night, and...

On Thursday morning the guest finally prepared to leave, and his host presented him with an itemized bill! The guest was shocked, and complained vociferously at this treatment. The host said, "Hey, you came to stay for shabbos; who asked you to stay for another five days?" The guest of course pointed out that the host had told him to stay, but the host would not budge from his position, and eventually they ended up in front of a rav.

After thinking the matter over thoroughly the rav ruled that the guest had to pay the bill. The guest was understandably shocked, but he was even more shocked when his host told him not to bother paying! The guest asked, "I don't get it. First you insist on me paying, and go to a beis din, and have the case adjudicated in your favor, and then when you finally have the oppurtunity to take the money, you say you don't want it! What gives?"

The host answered, "Look, I showed you everything our town had to offer while you were here, I also wanted to show you what kind of rav we have!"
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What's the point? The point is that as soon as a bochur is done learning he must get married. In other words, a bochur must continue learning until he gets married.

What happens after you finish smicha (in the eyes of the world)? You get to make a decision. Either you can learn in 770, or waste time in 770, or go work in a yeshiva somewhere, or go work for a Shliach, or...

In the vast majority of cases, working for a Shliach equals flipping the Rebbe's burgers. It's impossible that a bochur who's hired to do shlichus work in Wyoming (for example) is going to have shlichus work to do twenty four hours a day. You think people don't have jobs? You
think people are available to learn with you every evening? They have lives! Don't think though that you'll be bored. The Shliach will find plenty for you to do. You can babysit his kids, you can take his car in for an oil change, you can flip his burgers.

Some people say, "Oh, I'll bring a friend, and when we have nothing to do we'll learn!" Right. When it's six in the evening and you've done whatever, the first thing you're going to do is open up a bava metzia, right?

So what's a bochur supposed to do? Learn in 770 (or somewhere). And if he says, "But I know I'm not going to learn in 770!"? Tell him to learn in 770. "But I know I'm not going to!" Go learn. Very simple. Ain davar ha'omed bifnei haratzon and all that. Listen, if it's really true, you really won't learn, and you're not willing to make yourself learn, then go ahead, get a job in a yeshiva teaching. After all, in order to teach, you must learn. But to stam waste your time?
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2. Learn Rambam every day. Not Sefer Hamitzvos, that's for veiber and kind. You have to learn three or one perek. Every day.
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3. A successful Shliach isn't someone who knows the latest sports score. He's someone who has tochen. The guy who comes to your chabad house doesn't need another friend, another drinking buddy. He wants someone who knows what he's talking about.

There's a story about the countess of Miami who used to go to Mulla Azimov's shiur. Her countess friends asked her, "How can you go to his class?His French is horrendous!" She answered, "If I wanted to hear French, I wouldn't go to Mulla. I want to hear Torah, I go to Mulla."