It's like, OMG!

Holy smokes. I'm engaged! I only just realized it. I mean, I knew it before, but now I'm back in yeshiva and... I'm not a bochur anymore, I'm a chassan. Between the two lies a vast gulf. Pretty danged crazy if you ask me.

There's a custom to make the final sheva brachos in a yeshiva. In non-Lubavitcher yeshivos it's said that this is done to show the chassan that he may have been domeh to a melech for the last week, but now he's back to being a regular guy, no better than anyone else.

In Lubavitch, we do this to show the chassan what his roots are, to demonstrate that while he might be leaving the halls of Torah he's still very much a tomim. Not for naught do mashpiim proclaim "po nikbaru", here you will be buried. The very air of Tomchei Tmimim affects a person and effects a fundamental change-as the famous saying of the Rebbe Rashab had it, anyone who eats the kashe of Tomchei Tmimim won't die without doing teshuva. The wags say that this is because the food is so bad that it kills all who eat it, and the death is so painful that it causes a person to do teshuva.

In truth, of course, this saying means that a person who went to Tomchei Tminim and imbibed its atmosphere has forever gone a soul change that no amount of subsequent degradation or filth can possibly tamper with.

There's a story told about a bochur in Tomchei Tmimim who didn't exactly live up to the high standards expected of a tomim. He was a letz and a bum. Yet when the time came and he left yeshiva to get married some bochurim escorted him to the train station and he was in tears the whole time.

Why was this? After all, this bochur had never showed any particular affinity for the yeshiva when he had been a student there. From whence came this sudden change of heart?

The answer is that he looked into his soul and he realized what he was doing, what he was getting into, and he understood all that Tomchei Tmimim stood for, and what it meant to leave it for the last time.

The Rebbe said that the time between the engagement and the chasunah is extremely precious. A person has to chap arein, to grab every last bit of spirituality he can and store that up foe the rest of his life. It's not a time for foolery and frippery, but rather one of intense preparation for the awesome (in every sense of the word) state that marriage is.

Don't get me wrong, I'm really excited and all, but I also realize the awesome responsibility that is coming to me. As Rabbi Mendy Schapiro (LA) told me right before my lchaim, I'm now responsible for more than myself, both physically and spiritually.

I told my friend Zalmen B. when he asked me what I was planning on doing after the chasunah. I told him that I was planning on supporting my family. He said, "Right, but I know that too. What's the difference between before you get engaged and after?" I answered, "The difference is very simple. You know you have to support a family-I have to support a family."