by Rabbi Mordechai Lipskier – Director of The Beis Medrash of Crown Heights
For my 14th birthday, my parents promised me a calculator watch (a luxury in 1995), but Hashem had other plans. Just four days before my birthday my parents were in a car accident; my father’s neshama returned to its maker and my mother, may she live and be well, was in the hospital for several months.
On my birthday, during shivah, my brother-in-law asked me what my parents had planned to give me, and several hours later his parents, Rabbi Dovid and Mrs. Faigy Rapoport, presented me with the watch.
After the shivah, a classmate of mine, Mendy Greenberg, mustered his strength and told me, “Not long ago, your father saw me and a few other boys enjoying our new digital watches, and in his usually friendly manner shared a thought with us. ‘They used to say that a watch is a shtiller mussar zogger (a quiet reprimander—their tick quietly reminds us of the passing time), but today, with digital watches, they’ve become silent musser zoggers; we don’t even hear them tick!’”
In a way, this message encapsulates my father’s life and teaches us how he accomplished so much in such a small amount of time.
When Does he Teach you?
I once asked a group of fourteen-year-old yeshiva boys I was teaching, “When does your father teach you?” Most answered, “During the week,” or, “On Shabbos”. One boy added, “Anytime we’re together my father makes sure to teach me something—Torah, life-lessons, etc.”
Truthfully, though, these boys had no idea just how much their parents teach them all the time.
It boggles my mind to think of just how much my father taught me in the fourteen short years we spent together. His weekly visits to his mother, to fix things around her house and sing Yiddish songs with her, ingrained in me the meaning of kibbud em. The respect and admiration he showed my mother demonstrated true shalom bayis. And the reverence he showed teachers and elders made clear who and what we value.
Listening to my father hum while preparing for Shabbos and Yom Tov elicited a strong sense of love for our heritage. His asking me over vacation what I had learned that day, adding, “A Jew doesn’t let a day pass without studying Torah,” and the excitement with which he himself learned, engrained within me a deep appreciation for learning.
Seeing my father happy, active and upbeat taught us to live a good life even without a lot of money, and knowing he anonymously dropped groceries at the doors of community members who were financially strapped taught us to be sensitive to others (he made sure we never knew whose houses they were).
His weekly fix-it crusades, patching the roof and raking the leaves, or building bookcases and planting a garden were all learning experiences as well.
All this, of course, is in addition to the countless minhagim he taught us simply by performing them time and again.
Not only his family, but also his students learned from him. The children of his Tiferes students often tell me how much they know about my father from their fathers. Some mention niggunim they know and others mention the Shabbos table minhagim they’ve embraced. One “grandchild” told me that whenever a decision needs to be made in their home, his father asks, “What would Rabbi Lipskier say about this?”
How Did he Do it?
How did my father manage to reach people so deeply and in so many different ways?
He listened to the clock’s silent message and truly understood the value of each moment.
My father was what Chassidus calls a penimi, someone who’s entirely devoted to whatever he’s doing at that moment. Whether it was bathing the kids, teaching them to ride bikes, or giving a Chassidus shiur in yeshiva, it was as if nothing else was important at the time. He was a master at living in the moment.
It’s not by chance that his entire life was spent with the Rebbe—he was born the year that the Rebbe became Rebbe and passed away the same year as the Rebbe. His entire life revolved around the Rebbe. If the Rebbe asked something of chassidim, it became my father’s priority, whether it meant hanging a Moshiach sign over the yeshiva driveway or proudly handing out the “good cards” to anyone he’d meet.
(His sincerity influenced us so strongly that when the highway patrol officers came to our door to deliver the news of the accident and gave my younger sister Leah my father’s wallet, leaving the rest to our imaginations, she instinctively reached into the wallet, handed each of them a card and whispered, “My father would want you to have this.”)
This attitude towards life, making every moment important and meaningful, is something he learned from the Rebbe as well.
Here and Now
This is not merely a tribute to my father; he wouldn’t appreciate that. No, this is a reminder to reflect upon and reevaluate how we spend our time, particularly time with our families.
Not too long ago, a relative of mine came to town for the day and asked that I give him a ride to the airport so we could spend some time together. In the car, this person nudged me about not being on WhatsApp. “You’re missing out on so many opportunities to stay in touch with people,” he said. But, ironically, this person completely turned down the opportunity to have a quality conversation because he was on his phone WhatsApping.
Technology has come a long way since 1995. There are wrist-watches today that can do more than the desk-top computers of the 90’s. Along with that, quality time spent with our loved-ones can be more compromised than ever before.
What an opportunity to have a few minutes to walk with our children, and what a shame if we spend it buried in our phones. Does a snow day mean more WhatsApping and emailing, or more family time and learning?
We will, G-d Willing, have more than fourteen years to teach our children, but each of those moments are irreplaceable.
His Pen
The last thing my father learnt with me was a maamar (in preparation for my birthday) which mentions the concept of neshamos in Gan Eden listening to Jews learning Torah. The last thing he gave me, on his way to the car for that fateful trip, was his pen, so that I could write down my notes and questions.
I’m taking his pen as a message that I should write about his influence on my life and share it with others who may benefit from it. And, hopefully, he’s looking down from Gan Eden and enjoying nachas from his family as they engage in Torah study and spreading Chassidus.
But to be safe, I’ll say as my mother says: if my father doesn’t like what we’re doing down here, he should nudge Hashem to bring Moshiach, and come back to tell us what’s on his mind.
I Remember when a bochur ask Rabbi Lipskar a tough question he would call me over to include me in his answer.
moti thanks for all that you you gave towards the boys in the smecah program and my son yanki,
thanks
a thankful father
I have known of your father probably since I was young and knowing the very close connection my father shared with him, this was extremely touching and I now can appreciate what a giant of a person my father refers to when he mentions his name with so much respect and admiration. As it seems, he was beloved to many and I can tell in some of the things you wrote about how he may have impacted my father and thereby the entire family and all generations. Thank you.
Very special what you wrote to share with us.
Fortunate are we to have known such a great man and helped so many people. We miss him and as Mutti wrote at the end , that down here with Moshiach is where he belongs. How much he gave of himself is engraved in our hearts and minds.
Ad Mosai
Gershon Beck
Yet now more than ever I needed to hear that message
Thank you
From my own experience, I’d imagine that your thoughts would be appreciated immensely by his children. May I recommend that you write directly to them as well?
I was a student and friend of you late father, I also lost my father at a very young age. Your father was one of the best bal koras I have ever met. When a kol goes out it never stops
when reb fitzi a”h composed the nigun for 11 nison on kapitol 86
I am touched by your words and about the man your father was. I remember as a teanager how your parents would drive in a big van. Your father always with a bright smile and a giving heart. The respect in which he showed your mother and his children are the very example I try to emulate in my own life and marriage. Thank you for bringing his legacy to our attention. May his actions be an inspiration for all who are seaking to raise children and grandchildren in the ways of Torah and chasidus.
I miss him every day ever since. We should all learn more from his example.
Thank you so much for writing and posting this. You write so beautifully and have touched me very much by your thoughts and words – no wonder, by Hashgacha Protis, Hashem made your special father give you his pen – you have a gift for writing.
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And I so needed to be reminded about the preciousness of time.
I remember as a student in Tifferes Bachurim how Rabbi Fitz Alav Hashalom discussed with me a Gemorah Term until I finally got it.
He taught us the Nigun he composed for one of the Rebbes Birthdays.
I remember him humming and singing niggunim alot.
He taught us to stay grounded as new baal teshuvas who have a tendency to go to extremes.
One day, he called me to his desk, he had a case of deodorants and he offered me one.
I was reminded the importance of being spiritual yet being grounded.
Unique and great teacher.
What a strange statement.
Firstly, I don’t see any grief in this piece, simply a beautiful tribute to a very special person and lessons that can be learned, as we are taught vehachai yiten el libo.
B) losing a parent does not go away with time, it is a hole that remains inside us, all time does is enables us to live with it and continue with life. A pain one only understands when one goes through it r’l.
Your statement sounded like an insensitive and clueless remark.
I also lost my father at a much younger age. His teachings to me are through other people. You are fortunate to have had first hand learning experiences.
No doubt you and your family are making your father proud!!
In Yeshiva Tiferes Bachurim the day of Rabbi Lipskiers Yortsiet is marked by learning from his lessons and doing things לעילוי נשמתו-Moshiach Now!
What a beautiful and encouraging letter to focus on positive growth in our lives. May his dear wife Chevy ‘zu lange yorin’
who always has a kind encouraging word to so many who are looking for shidduchim, receive brochos to enable her to be the keli of continued success!
Thank you Rabbi Lipskier. I think it appropriate to mention in the comments section of your heart felt letter, about the great opportunity available, to take part in the writing of a Sefer Torah the Lipskier family is writing in honor of their Dear father Rabbi Fitzi Lipskier. For anyone interested here is the link I used. https://chabadw60scom.clhosting.org/templates/articlecco_cdo/aid/601957/jewish/Dedication-Opportunities/lang/en
I miss Fitzy He was an incredible chossid, a role model Great teacher , best mashpia with practical advice down to earth I loved his shiurim in chassidus and gemorah as well as the niggunim shiur I sat for 3 years very close to him in the Beis hamidrash and asked him hundreds of questions Most of us ,we wanted to be like him : how he daven ,how he sang niggunim,his farbrengens,his clarity , his passion and unmatched hiskashrus with the Rebbe,love for Jews,how he cared for all the Talmidim,his smile and sense of humor He had time for… Read more »
Words spoken from the heart penetrate the heart.
Your words moved me deeply, and rlly penetrated me to start being more aware of how im living in the moment and not in my phone or other distractions in this world!
Thank you for sharing this timeless message and opening our eyes to such an important thing that we seem to forget many times!!
May your father have an aliya and demand of hashem to bring moshiach now so we can end this bitter golus and be reunited with our dear Rebbe and everyone else NOW!!!
thank you for sharing this, and all of your emails are beautifully written, and filled with valuable – priceless lessons!
beautiful. so special. someone we can all learn from.
thank you for sharing this.
Thank you for your inspiring words! So true! And as someone who also lost her mother to young, your article proved to me once more that even after a person leavea this world, all they stood for carries on and they continue to have an impact. And when we, their children share their message with our own children and with others… this is a great zchus for their neshomos as well as being a comfort for us. May we merit Moahiach right now so we can be physically reunited with our Rebbe and with our parents.
May your father Neshama have the greatest Aliya and be reunited with you and your entire family through the coming of Moshiach. I do remember your Father OB”M and he was truly a special person. Continued Besu”t betov Hanireh V’Hanigleh.
its just so sad that a grown man still has this terrible grief and longing inside, for his father who died 20 years ago
but obviously this is his reality and most people who have lost a parent at such a young age can surely relate
i am sooo touched! i wish i could have met him!
what i personally learnt from this is to live in the moment. That means putting my phone away when Im with my kids.
How can we live in the moment and really be there if we are constantly checking our phones? Our children are vying for our attention and we are distracted by whatsapp or texts coming in.
I urge you to take the heartfelt letter written above to heart and truly focus on your children. Cherish the moments with them. You will not regret the commitment you make to do so. the years trickle by…….
Thanx for sharing!
So exceptionally beautiful.
Thank you for sharing.