  REB SHLOMO ON SEDER NIGHT

At Congregation Beth Israel in Berkeley, California, Sunday, March 20, 1994/
8 Nisan, 5754; co-sponsored by the Aquarian Minyan;
recorded by David Miller; transcribed by Reuven Goldfarb.


Reb Shlomo:  So can I ask all the good friends who want to learn with me a little 
bit, can you please move over here? Can you move? Can you move over here, 
friends? Come a little bit closer, so we won't have to be so far away from each 
other.  

Where's my kapo? Anybody has it? [He finds it, or someone gives it to him.]  

Musician (Elliot Kenin):  I have A sharp.

Okay, I want to learn a little bit, but just to warm up our hearts a little bit.  [He 
strums a chord.]  Hey, Reuven! We're waitin' for you.

Reuven:  Welcome to Congregation Beth Israel.  We're very honored to have 
with us Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach, the world-renowned singer, composer, 
storyteller, teacher, friend--friend of ours and a friend of G-d's, like Avraham 
Avinu--and the Holy Ba'al Shem Tov of blessed memory, if I might be so bold as 
to stretch a comparison.

Now we only have a limited amount of time 'cause Shlomo has to catch a plane--
nothing unusual about this--so we're gonna learn a little bit with him, and we're 
gonna rock and roll a little bit until about 2 o'clock.  I heard earlier on today that 
there's gonna be a chasenah at this shul at around 3.  If anybody wants to stay 
around for a wedding--it won't be a Shlomo wedding, but it'll be a wedding 
nevertheless--I'm sure they wouldn't mind having a few friendly faces.  
[Responding to a question about permission] Well, if it was announced in 
Minyan this morning, so I assume this is like a Minyan--a multiple Minyan.  
Before I introduce Shlomo, I'd like to introduce Shlomo's manager and the 
Assistant Rabbi of Congregation Kehillat Ya'akov on West 79th Street in New 
York City, Sammy Intrator.  [Applause]

Sammy:  I'd like to take 30 seconds to talk to you about a little project that I'm 
working on with Reb Shlomo now.  You may have seen these Torah Time[s] 
tapes.  Basically, it's like an audio magazine where Reb Shlomo teaches and 
sings his songs relevant to a different time of the year.  And right now, we have 
him singing Pesach, and the Haggadah, and a little bit of Purim also.  And what 
we're trying to do, really, is, for those of us--and whenever I travel with him on 
the road, people are always saying, I wish I could just have him year-round.  For 
those that wanna have a year-round connection, this is as close as we can get to 
the oral tradition being passed on in your own little house, in your own little 
audiocassette, where he sings the songs, tells the stories relevant to that time of 
the year--Pesach, Sukkot--so for those of you that are interested in more 
information, there's a flyer at the other end.  Some of the songs that he will sing 
today--the Haggadah chant, which is an ancient Kabbalistic sound, going back 
hundreds of years, we have it on tape here [with him] singing it, for the first 
time.  So for those of you who are interested, we have flyers in front.  Thank you.  
[Applause]

Reb Shlomo:  Okay, I want you to know, the biggest, biggest, biggest yashar koach 
really comes to Reuven and Yehudit, really, the two biggest rebbes on the west 
coast.  I cannot imagine how G-d would manage the west coast without Reuven 
and Yehudit.  I guess he can't because he needs you here, right?

Reuven:  How about Eretz Yisrael?

Shlomo:  Gevalt, really.  I'm proud of you.  [Shlomo begins to play.  After the first 
run-through, he addresses those assembled]  Join me.  [First song runs about 
three minutes.  Then he segues into another song, at the climax of which he again 
says, "Join me."  This song concludes in a little less than three minutes.]

Reb Shlomo:  Okay, thank you so much for coming.  And--let's learn a little bit.  I 
don't know where to begin and where to end, so I'll start right in the middle.  
[Tzvi starts making sounds, "me, me, me."]

You know, there are two ways of talking to children.  [Tzvi:  "me"]  Sometimes 
we talk to children baby talk, right? And we talk to them, like, on their level.  But 
I'll tell you something--imagine, G-d forbid, there's a fire in the house, right? And 
I'm telling my children, "You better get out of here fast!"  I don't talk baby talk.  I 
talk to them straight, right? 

I want you to know, G-d also sometimes, He talks to us baby talk, on our level, 
so we can understand what He's saying.  And sometimes, G-d is talking to us on 
HIS level.  But the truth is, we are just ordinary human beings; we are limited 
human beings.  We don't have vessels for that kind of talk.  We don't have 
vessels for this great, great, great light. 

There's one night--one night--mamesh, when G-d opens all the gates.  But you 
know, Seder night--Pesach--we need new vessels, right? It's not only because it's 
chumatz.  The deepest depth[s] is that G-d gives us new vessels.  G-d gives us--
heavenly vessels.  It's the light of Pesach--ssss-- [Netzach calls:  "Abba!"]--
unbelievable light--unbelievable light shining into us.

You see, the world thinks free means I can do what I want to--this is kid stuff, 
right? Imagine you'll ask a baby--what's freedom? Freedom means, for me, is that 
I don't have to put on my diapers, right? This is what we are all into it --I can do 
what I want to, right?

Freedom is that I am free to receive the deepest depths, right? The deepest 
depths.  I want you to know--we don't have the faintest idea how much G-d 
wants to give us, right? And Reb Nachman says--even deeper--we have no idea 
how much is coming down from Heaven every second, right? G-d is not stingy, 
right?

But--I want to tell you something very, very deep.  Sometimes you talk to 
somebody, and you want to pour out your heart, right? And you want to tell 
them something so deep; and while you're talking to them, suddenly you realize 
they don't know what you're talking about, right? Do you know how much that 
hurts? Gevalt, does it hurt.

And you know what it is, all year long, G-d wants to talk to us, and we pick up a 
little bit.  Seder night--and you know, in the Zohar, Seder night is called "mochin 
d'gadlus"--completely different brains.  You know what a slave is? A slave is 
somebody who has very petty brains.  I'll tell you something, as a far-out 
example--little bit--you know, in Pirke Avos--Sayings of the Fathers--it says the 
difference between the students of Abraham and the students of Bilaam, but in 
the Medresh, there's a different definition.  The definition is that the students of 
Bilaam, let's say, buy something for a gold coin, and he [the shopkeeper] has to 
give them back change, a few pennies.  So they stand there, and they count the 
pennies, and maybe one penny is missing.  They're wasting their time and talk 
about the penny.  The students of Avram don't count cash.  The penny is not 
worth it to waste words on it or time.

You know, the Gemora says, a pagan, a pagan--and take it as it is--[Aramaic 
phrase] it means he could be killed over less than a penny.  You know what that 
means? There are people who are ready to be killed over less than a penny, 
right? They'll start the biggest fight--and I don't want to say anything bad--
sometimes when you go into a store and the cashier--she doesn't mean anything 
bad, and she doesn't get the money anyway--so she made the mistake of a nickel, 
right? Okay, so she made a mistake, so what? Then some people start up and 
say, "I'll call the manager" and "I'll have you fired"--they're ready to kill this girl 
for the one nickel, right? What's their problem? Their brains.  [Titters]  Yeah, their 
brains are defective.  You know, and hopefully here you'll understand--a nickel 
is not a dollar, a dollar is not ten dollars, but if your brain is not really 
functioning properly, a nickel looks like a million dollars.

Seder night--mochin d'gadlus [expanded consciousness].  Look at the whole 
world--look at the whole world.  And here I want to add something so deep, so 
deep.  You know, the way we understand G-d all year long is so petty.  Yeah, 
there is--I really don't know exactly what it is, but there is some being there, and 
he created the world, and he's spelled Gee Oh Dee--and if you're frum, it's Gee 
Dash Dee [laughter]--I mean, I know it because I have my Ph.D. in Theology.  
Have you ever spoken to those people who teach Theology? I'm telling you, I 
know more about Chiang Kai-Shek's mother than they know about G-d.  They 
know nothing--nothing.
 
Let me tell you something, and this is really the deepest.  You know something? 
Imagine if a baby would be born, and the baby doesn't know who the parents 
are, right? So, he's taken by a nurse, grows up in a home for babies, and then, 
when the baby is eighteen years old, ready to understand the facts of life, then 
someone comes and teaches them how babies are created, and the door opens, 
and says, "Hah--meet your creator.  Meet your father and your mother."  What 
would the relationship be? I'm looking at my father and my mother--I would say, 
"Who cares?" Right? And here I know this is my father and my mother, right? 
Scientifically.

Why do babies love their parents so much? You know, every baby, every child, 
really believes that "My parents are the best people in the world."  And blessing 
everyone we should never disappoint our children.  You know what kind of 
knowledge the baby has about "These are my parents"? This is not petty 
knowledge you picked up in a book, Facts of Life.  This is mochin d'gadlus.  
Something else.  The deepest.

So the Zohar kodesh says, all year long we know G-d the way I know my parents 
because I took a course in Biology.  Seder night G-d gives me back my G-d 
knowledge like the way when the baby is born.  Oh, is that deep.  Gevalt, is that 
deep.  Mamash, I can't even bear it.  My G-d.

You know, I want you to know something.  Sadly enough, do you know how 
much we parents sometimes destroy this G-d knowledge and parent knowledge 
of our children? So they stop talking to us.  Seder night, something happens, and 
suddenly between me and my children, it's back, just like they were born that 
moment.  It's awesome, you know.  Awesome is not the word.  It's heartbreaking-
-I mean, not heartbreakingly sad, heartbreakingly beautiful.

I have to share something with you awesome.  [Child:  "No!"]  I know someone in 
Eretz Yisrael, in the Holy Land, and, you know, I'm blessing everyone never to go 
bankrupt, none of us, because when we came out of Egypt, we came out very 
rich.  Why is he crying? He's okay? He's okay?

David:  He can't decide where he wants to be.

Shlomo:  None of us, none of us can decide.

Reuven:  There's child-care outside.

David:  Yeah, I know, he doesn't want to go.

Shlomo:  Oy vey, oy vey, gevalt.  He needs Vera!

Shlomo:  Okay, I didn't want to drop it.  I just wanted to know why he's crying.  
Okay, give me your attention again.  I met this Yiddele in Tel Aviv who was 
mamash a multi-millionaire, and then, it should never happen to anyone, 
suddenly he went--mamash--bankrupt.  Then he disappeared, and I didn't see 
him any more.  Then just some time ago, I walked down 57th St., and I see, 
nebich, somebody's pushing a little wagala with hot coffee and middle east cake--
middle eastern cake--I look at it--ah! my Yiddele.  My--nebich--bankrupt Yiddele.  
Nebich, nebich--mamash a shlepper now.  

So I didn't know if he wants to talk to me.  So I stood there, by a window, looking 
in, like I'm looking at the window of the store, but giving him a chance, and if he 
wants to talk to me, he can see me.  He came up to me, he hugged me, he said, 
"Ah, Shloime, gevalt!" I said, "What's going on with you?" So he says to me, "Let 
me tell you something.  You know, economically, I'm a little bit bankrupt.  But 
let me show you a letter of my daughter."

It is actually the most beautiful letter I have ever seen of a child writing to her 
father.  She wrote her father the letter on her eighteenth birthday, when she 
entered the holy army of Israel, and she writes to her father:  "'Dear father, I want 
you to know, today I am eighteen years old.  But I still love you as much as I 
loved you on the day when I was born.'   So you see what kind of a millionaire I 
am?" He says to me, "Do you know how much would Rothschild give to get 
such a letter from his children?" Gevalt, right?

So Seder night--Seder night is the night when G-d restores our relationship to our 
children.  And this is mochin d'gadlus, right? You know why most children are so 
sad? 'Cause their parents look at them, you know, "Listen, I'm a grown-up; I 
know how children are produced; I produced you--this man and this woman 
produced you--and also we paid for your diapers, we paid for your college--"  
This is not where it's at.  This is all outside stuff.  It's lower than outside.  

So Seder night--unbelievable--but know one more very important thing.  I want 
you to know, we give the way we receive.  You know, the Maharal says--what's 
the problem of a stingy person? The world says, "A stingy person is somebody 
who doesn't want to give."  The Maharal says, "No.  The problem is he has never 
received anything."  He has never received anything.  He has no vessels to 
receive.  He has it in his pockets, maybe, but inside he never received anything.  
So he can't give.

You know why, when I see a poor man, I pull out a nickel, and I tell him, "Listen, 
please stay out on the street--don't come to my house"--because even the house 
I'm living in I never received.  Maybe I received the outside--I have my address, 
and I pay taxes, I pay the mortgage.  Seder night--and I want you to know the 
deepest depths--we were learning it a thousand times--Pesach is one holiday 
where I need a house.  You know, Chanukah I have to kindle the lights at the 
door of my house, but I can walk up to brother Dov and to his house and say, 
"Listen, here's a quarter.  I want to be part and give you rent for the house for 
two minutes when I'm bentching Chanukah licht," and it's 100% ba'al peh halacha 
[legal according to the Oral Tradition].  For the moment it's my house.

But if I would walk up to Dov and say, "Here's a quarter.  Can I walk around 
looking for chumatz?" He would say, "This is not your house," right? To look for 
chumatz, it has to be my house.  And I just want to repeat--which most of you I'm 
sure learned--this is a classic Torah from Rav Kook.  Sammy and I were learning 
it every year, and it's the deepest.  The English--whatever it's called--when the 
English were still in Israel, they invited Rav Kook for Pesach, he should give a 
talk, about what's Pesach for us Jews?  So he says, Every country wants to look 
for the chumatz in another country.  He says, England is looking for chumatz in 
America; America is looking for chumatz in Russia.  Russia is looking for chumatz 
in the whole world, right? Pesach is--look for chumatz in your house! Gevalt, 
right?

A slave looks always for chumatz somewhere else.  You know how much 
freedom you need to look for your own chumatz? But you must have a house.  
And you know what it is? I want you to know the deepest depths.  The night 
before the Seder--and I'm blessing you to have  a taste in it--you know, a lot of 
people begin Pesach by the Seder.  The Mishna begins Pesachim, "Or l'arbah osah--
the night of the 14th day."  And the Ishbitzer says, on the fourteenth day, the 
night before Pesach, a great light is shining into me.  Because unless a great light 
is shining, you'll never find your chumatz, right? Then you'll find, maybe, a little 
bagel you bought last year.  But the real chumatz--the inside--and you know what 
the great light is? The great light is that suddenly it's shining into you what your 
real place in the world is, what your house really is.  Then I look at myself--
gevalt, am I far.  Gevalt, am I, or am I destroying my own house, or I'm not even 
living in my house.  In my house, in my four walls, my infinite space in the 
world--which is just four inches, but it's infinite, right?

So Seder night, when suddenly G-d gives me my house, my place in the world, I 
have no problem Seder night to invite the whole world to my house.  You know 
why I didn't invite you yesterday? I didn't have a house.  I can't invite you; I'm 
not in my house, right? Seder night--and now listen--open your heart, so deeply.  
Everybody knows that the angels came to Avram the first morning of Pesach, 
right? Avraham Avinu enters the covenant with 
G-d, and it says the next morning, the third day, "and he sat at the door of his 
house."  And Reb Nachman says, if you want to know who is the master of the 
house, if someone's sitting by the table and eating, it could be the guest, right? 
How do you know who is the owner? The one who opens the door.

Let's say I'm visiting my friend Marvin--I mean, he knows I'm bringing shleppers 
with me--but officially, officially, I shouldn't, right? But I have no right to open 
the door and say, "Hey, chevre, come in!" It's not my house, right? The owner, 
right?  

So Seder night, [it] becomes my house.  And I want to tell you something so 
deep.  Do you think my children are only my children because physically I 
brought them into the world? Oh, the connection is so much deeper.  You know, 
you ask any holy sister who has the privilege of bringing children into the 
world--do they see the baby for the first time when they hold the baby in their 
hands? It's clear to them, I know this baby for thousands of years, right? I'll ask 
Yehudit, right? From before creation, right? Mochin d'gadlus, right?

You'll ask a scientist--that's crazy talk.  I mean, you know, you got pregnant, you 
have a baby, and that's it, right? Without getting involved in the depths, you 
know what--what the Russians wanted, the Communists? They wanted to take 
babies away from their parents the moment they're born.  This was their ideal.  
But there should be just a home for children, and just once a week they should 
see their parents, and maybe not see their parents until they are 16, 17 years old.  
Destroy this mochin d'gadlus.

You know what communism is all about? Do you think communism is to share 
everything you have with somebody else? No.  That's the  way they thought.  
I've been in Russia a few times, before.  Communism is that you have nothing to 
do with another person.  Parents don't talk to their children; children don't talk to 
their parents.  You definitely don't talk to another person.  You're afraid! I'm 
afraid to open my heart, right?

So Seder night--and again I want you to know something.  What is the deepest 
relationship? Not that I can talk to you--that I can shine my whole neshama into 
you, right? My whole heart is shining into you.  And your whole heart is shining 
into me, right? Infinite.  So Seder night, when, humanly speaking, G-d--mamash 
G-d--is shining into me--we say, "Ani, v'lo malach, ani v'lo seraph"--G-d says, 
"...me, not an angel, not a seraph--" mamash "ehla hakodesh boruch hu."  I want you 
to know, the Alter Rebbe--Lubavitch--when [he] would say Seder night "ehla 
hakodesh boruch hu--" mamash G-d Himself--he would always faint away--took a 
long time to revive him.  You know, mamesh--G-d is shining into me.

You know, something you cannot reach in 2000 lifetimes, on Seder night, G-d is 
shining into me.  And the moment G-d is shining into me, then--you know--all 
the slavery--I'm afraid of this one, I'm afraid of this one, and I think this one is my 
master, this one is my master--it's clear to me, nobody is my master--nobody is 
my master.

And here I want to share something with you, which maybe--maybe some of you 
don't know it, which is really so special.  What do you think the Egyptians felt 
that night when we left Egypt? Do you know, they also had the highest G-d 
revelation in the world.  Awesome.  Just awesome.  That night it was clear to 
Pharaoh that he is not the master.  What do you think? Pharaoh let us go; he had 
a meeting with his congress, and they decided, okay, let the Jews go.  It was 
clear--do you know, do you know how we walked out of Egypt?--like, in today 
language? All of the rock bands of Egypt got together--the medresh says--Pharaoh 
invited all the musicians of Egypt, and they walked us to the border! They 
walked us to the border.  Unbelievable, right? Psss.

I want you to know something which is not to be believed!--not to be believed.  
G-d says to Moshe, "Tell the Yidden to borrow gold and silver from their 
neighbors."  And it says,V'yishalu ish ma-es ray-ayhu [Shemot 11:2].  You know, 
again, if you just learned the Torah from King James--and I always say, if you 
read the Bible, just King James' version, you better read Peyton Place; it's more 
interesting.  At least it's a little bit exciting! Now listen to me, friends.

By the Torah, ray'ayhu means your equal--doesn't mean just your neighbor.  It 
means like, crazy.  Seder night, when you have the highest  G-d revelation, I 
should walk in to the lowest Egyptian, who are hitting me and whipping me all 
his life? He is my equal? He is the lowest creep in the world.  That night--that 
night--it was mamesh like after Mashiach had come.  I want you to know we came 
out of Egypt--not only the Jews--I hope it's clear to you--not only the Jews 
walked out.  All of the slaves of Egypt walked out with us.  That's why Pharaoh 
got wise, after a few days.  He saw the whole economy is falling apart 'cause 
there's no more slaves.

So you hear, friends, Seder night--Seder night--what is shining into me--what is 
shining into me? Something so deep, so lofty, so gevalt.  You know what hurts 
you and me sometimes--you are invited to somebody's Seder, and their mind is 
so petty that G-d forbid--and G-d forbid--the wine is shuckling a little bit, and 
you make a stain on the tablecloth, then the hostess--I remember once I was--
never again--I was by mistake by somebody's seder, and nebich, one of the 
guests--one of the guests, nebich, nebich--G-d should forgive him the eternal sin--a 
stain on the tablecloth Seder night.  I want you to know, this hostess was mad for 
four days.  I thought she's divorcing her husband the same night for inviting this 
person.

What's her problem? Gevalt--gevalt--was she far from the light of Seder night 
shining into her.  You know, Rabbi Akiva Eger, one of the greatest in the world--
he had this tremendous custom; it's really beautiful to tell you.  Obviously, he 
was the Chief Rabbi of Posen--he was the Rebbe of the world, about 200 years 
ago.  He was mamesh the greatest.  He was so afraid if one of the guests makes a 
stain, then his wife--hopefully not, but you never know.  So you know what he 
did when he walked in to the Seder? The first thing he did, he took the wine and 
poured it all over the tablecloth--forget it! Forget about the tablecloth.  Don't be a 
slave to the tablecloth.  Don't be a slave to anything.  Mochin d'gadlus, you know? 
Do you think the table is only beautiful because the tablecloth is white? When 
your heart is dark, what good is it? Right? Gevalt.  Mochin d'gadlus.  So you hear, 
friends, Seder night, what is shining into me, like with Avraham Avinu, the 
moment, the moment you enter the covenant with G-d--you know what it means, 
"the covenant"? When I make a covenant with somebody--this is a Torah from the 
Izbica also--I cannot make a covenant with a dog.  I might love my doggela, but I 
can't make a covenant with him--'cause a doggela is a doggela, and I'm not, 
hopefully, right? You can only make a covenant with an equal.

When Avram Avinu entered the covenant with G-d, that means all of   G-d was 
shining into him.  And suddenly Avraham Avinu has the vessel for all of it, 
right? And those three pagans who came? Outside, they  looked like three lonely 
pagans, but what he saw there were strangers, and mamash they need me to lift 
up their souls.  And he was ready to do everything, right? Everything.  
Everything.  So you see, friends, freedom for them is not holding back--receiving 
everything and giving everything --because the moment I receive everything, 
really, I can also give everything, right?

You know what Yosef HaTzaddik said to his brothers when they came to Egypt? 
He says, Anochi achalkayl es-chem [Breisheet, 50:21].  And if you know Hebrew, 
Achalkayl means to sustain you, support you, but I'm sure most of you speak 
Hebrew--achalkayl comes from the word kol, kol, right, to kol.   It means the all of 
me to the all of you.  You know, friends, most of us have friends to a little detail 
of us.  How many of us have friends [to] whom you can relate on the level of 
awe? Mamash, awe.  How many husbands and wives can relate on the level of 
awe? One married woman told me the most her husband had spoken to her in 
the last 20 years was, "What are we having for dinner?" "What are our plans for 
Sunday?" This is already a good marriage.  Where's the awe? Where's the inside, 
right? Want to sing a little song.  [The remainder of Side One is blank.]

[Side Two]  Reb Shlomo:  What a gift! The deepest, deepest, deepest gift there is.  
And you see, Pesach has to be before Shavuos.  Because unless all of G-d is 
shining into me, how can I receive G-d's word? I'm sure it's clear to you--I can 
only talk to a person I'm really connected to.  If I'm not connected to you, yeah, I 
can ask you, "How's the weather?" But I cannot talk to you inside talk, right?

So Pesach is this deepest connection.  Just remember what the Rebbes say:  On 
Shavuos we receive the Torah; on Pesach, mamash, we receive G-d.  "Ayleh 
haKodesh boruch Hu beekh-vodo."  

David Shaw:  Shlomo, do you have time for a question?

Reb Shlomo:  From you, brother? [Strums his guitar] What do you want to say?

David:  Well, I'm troubled, the slaves.

Shlomo:  Yeah.

David:  They were never able to--forty years later, they were still slaves.  Can 
you help us know, you know, and to open up our hearts?

Shlomo:  Brother, you're the highest, the highest Jew in the world.  Listen, let me 
tell you something.  It's a deep question you're asking, but let me tell you 
something.  So he's asked me, so if that light is so great that even later on we are 
not completely free yet, and they were not even really ready to go to the Holy 
Land.  The answer is--mamash, thank you for asking me--the saddest thing about 
it is that this light is shining only Seder night.  And then, sadly enough, it's up to 
you if you want to keep it or not.

You know why they count the Omer? Counting the Omer is making vessels--
making vessels that this light should stay with us.  Listen to me.  If this light 
would be shining forever, Mashiach would come the next morning, right? And 
that's it! Obviously, it's not.

You know what it is? G-d gives us a taste of the way I could be, and G-d gives us 
a taste of how the world could be.  And here I want to share with you, mamash 
l'koved Dovidl, an Izbica [this is the correct orthography according to scholarly 
sources; however, from here on I will spell it phonetically, to better convey 
Shlomo's pronunciation] Torah that's just awesome.  Blessing you and me to 
learn, really, mamash, Mei HaShiloach [The Waters of Siloam], it's the deepest.  
You know, I heard from old Chasidim, we do not understand how did the world 
exist before the heilege Ishbitza.

You know, let me tell you, maybe some of you know who Ishbitz is--I didn't say 
hello to you, yet, brother.  Hey! Ishbitza is a little town not far from Lublin.  And 
there was this big rebbe, Reb Mordecai Yosef Leiner--and he was mamash the 
deepest.  His grandson writes about him that a lot of people know the Torah, but 
very few are privileged to know the Torah the way it was given on Mt. Sinai, 
which is my grandfather.  In the long history, he was one of the few who received 
the Torah ki n'see-nu-sum miSinai--the way it was given on Mt. Sinai.  And my 
personal privilege is that my great-great grandfather lived in Izbica, and he was 
a chasid of the Mei HaShiloach.  Awesome.  I could blow my mind already day 
and night, right?

But you know what happened? He moved to Germany, and then, I don't know 
what, they became German Jews [laughter]--nothing I can do about it, right? 
[More laughter] Yeah, they were Yekkes! A  Yekke knows exactly when you 
have to bentch licht.  A Yekke knows exactly--what time it is [laughter].  But he 
only knows what time it's down here; he never knows what time it's up there, 
y'know. 

But then, my grandfather had eight sons and four daughters.  The four 
daughters, three of them married rabbis, and the eight sons--three became really 
the leading rabbis in Germany, and the other three became--mamash, I need them 
now, but they're not there--multi-billionaires.  Do you know that my father's 
oldest brother--my father's oldest brother--when he was eighteen, became an 
elevator boy in a bank.  By 22, he was the owner of ten banks in Germany.  And 
you know how rich he was? That the German Kaiser asked him he should give 
him one of his summer houses in the summer.

But let me tell you something.  My uncle traveled all over Europe.  (Back then 
America wasn't so strong.)  So you would say my uncle most probably he's not 
so frum any more, he's a multi-millionaire.  My uncle traveled with the whole 
gescheft.  He traveled with people who are cooking for him, and--and--and--and--
and he had his own Minyan.  Yeah.  My uncle was crazy like--he would never--
he has to daven with a Minyan.  So, let's say, he would take a train from 
Hamburg to Lubeck, he would take the train in such a way that he would have 
enough time to go to shul in Lubeck and daven with a Minyan.  He would go to 
Frankfurt and he would take a Minyan with him in the train, you know? 
Awesome! Awesome.

I want you to know, my uncle was such a genius that even after the First World 
War, the Depression, the only bank in Germany which was still functioning was 
my uncle's.  He was such a super-genius that he managed to keep the bank 
going.  One day he had a cold.  He told the people at the bank, "Please don't do 
anything without asking me!" And there was his assistant--I don't want to say 
anything bad--who was always jealous at my uncle that he is such a genius.  So 
something came up; he decided that "I don't have to ask," and the bank was 
bankrupt within fifteen minutes.

Nebich, my holy uncle, when he heard this--and he was like the last hold for 
people who trusted him with millions of dollars 'cause they knew my uncle can 
be trusted.  So when he heard that the bank fell apart, mamash he had a heart 
attack and died instantly.  He couldn't bear the pain.  And I'm sure, I could swear 
it was not the pain of his own money.  It was the pain of all the thousands of 
people that trusted him with billions, billions, billions of mark[s].

Anyway--Ishbitzer, right? So the Ishbitzer says the deepest Torah in the world.  
You know, the first day of Pesach, when you bring also a sin offering, the chatat.  
So he asks, we just became Yidden yesterday--right? I mean, how much can you 
sin between the Seder and the next morning, Shacharis, unless, I mean you didn't 
meet us, we are experts on sin, right? We could have done a lot of things.  But he 
asks, under normal circumstances, how much can you do? He says, we have to 
bring a sin offering because that night we could have brought Mashiach.  We 
could have redeemed the whole world.  We were so happy to get out of Egypt--
we were so happy that it's a little bit better, that we forgot the world.  Awesome 
Torah.  

But you see, that night--you see, the way we are fixing it, that we hope maybe 
tonight, maybe we'll really fix the whole world.  So we open the door, and we 
walk out, waiting for Elijah the Prophet--gotta sing a good song--we have such 
holy musicians here--the best--the best of the best.

So here, Dovidl--it's shining, and it's up to you to hold onto it.

Woman:  How do you do that?

Shlomo:  I'm sorry.  What?

Woman:  How do you do that?

Shlomo:  So this is what the Counting of the Omer is.  You see, basically, we 
don't have, really, vessels for this great light in our daily lives.  But slowly, 
slowly.  So the first night is Chesed sheba Chesed.  Master of the world, shine into 
my facility of loving to this infinite light of you.  Then the next week, I'm mamash, 
I'm praying for Gevurah, right? And, hopefully, by Shavuos--because the Torah is 
again all of G-d--but then, it's already up to me how much I received.

You see, Shavuos is up to me how much I receive.  Seder, it's just if I want to, I 
get the whole thing.  Shavuos is not a gift; Shavuos is like a business deal.  You 
want to? 'Cause G-d asks us, do you want to have the Torah? Yeh.  G-d didn't ask 
us, do you want to get out of Egypt? It's just shining into us. 'Cause you don't 
ask someone you love, do you want to give? You give it to them, right?

David Miller:  Last year at Yakar, you were giving the most gevalt learnings on 
the Four Sons--I think it was at Yakar.

Shlomo:  Yeah?

David:  Maybe it's too much to make the whole thing again, but I'm just thinking, 
trying to remember exactly the stuff you were saying about the son who doesn't 
know how to ask.

Shlomo:  So, brother, if you're coming, then I'll have to learn it again.  Brother, 
you're the highest.

David:  We all need to know.

Shlomo [strums guitar]:  F minor.  [Begins playing--and, mamash, soon there is 
freilich dancing.  Continues for seven minutes at that level, then goes softer and 
slower and gentler to its conclusion at the end of the ninth minute.]  Okay, let's 
do something and learn a few minutes because stupidly, sadly enough, at 2 
o'clock, mamash, I have to leave.  So, let's--okay, we'll learn about the four sons--
which is you and I, always.  Thank you for getting up to dance.

All right, I want you to know, my beautiful friends, every year--Barukh atah 
adonai eloheynu melech ha-olam, sh'hakkol ne'heyeh bidvaro--

David:  Amen.

Shlomo [drinks]:  Coming from Leah, it's straight from paradise.  Another thing.  
You're the best.

Listen to me, my beautiful friends.  Let it be clear to you that every year--you 
know, the Gemora says, G-d gives it, but he never takes it back.  That light stays 
with us, and even if you don't have vessels on the outside of us to integrate it 
into our daily lives.  But we have it. 

You know, the heilege Stepanefsha says--you know, sometimes you have a gevalt 
Shabbos, right, but then, right after Havdalah, you go right back to your old 
tricks.  So you think you lost that Shabbos.  You didn't.  Shabbos is still there.  
And he says, the Stepanefsha says that every Yid, every person, has a little bank 
in their heart.  And the Rabeino Shel Olam puts it into your bank, into your 
account.  And whenever you need it, you'll take it out, right?

The problem is, we never know how much we have, right? Gevalt, we have so 
much! Not only I have my own Shabboses--what happened to all the Shabboses 
of my Bubbes and Zeydes? They're in my account.  They're gone, but they're in 
my account, right?

But anyway, you see, Seder night, what G-d gives me is awesome.  And every 
year, I take a little bit--something.  This is mamesh beautiful.  The Ishbitzer says 
that every year, different flowers--new flowers which have never been before--
come out.  And he says those flowers are from that great light which is shining 
Seder night.  It's filling the whole world.  You think it's not much, in actuality, 
that maybe a tree can grow from it, but you know, flowers, something very soft, 
it just comes out.

I have to tell you something.  When we were in Poland and Russia--you know 
how much sometimes we don't realize, you know, Poland, how much they are 
into flowers? You know, in America, someone gives a concert.  At the end of the 
concert, if you like that person, you give them flowers.  In Poland--after every 
song.  I don't know how many people came--10, 20, 30--were full of flowers.  And 
the most beautiful people.  So I said to them, you know, it's crazy, when you 
want to show someone how much you love them, you should give them 
something which lasts longer than a flower, right? So one of the Torahs they said 
was that when I love somebody very much, I tell them, even one minute with 
you is worth more than 2000 eternities without you.

Well, the Ishbitzer says that every Seder night, somewhere in the world, new 
flowers are getting born.  It's not getting lost.  And every year--you know, the 
Ishbitzer says, you also have to believe that you became better   
--you mamash have to know you really became better.  [Clears throat]  And, uh, 
you know, I can change my relationship to my children, but the next morning I 
think, oh, I'm back where we were before--then it doesn't happen.  It has to be 
clear to me that it really did happen.  Gevalt, did it happen.  Gevalt, did it 
happen.    

So here we come to the Four Sons.  And we learned it so often.  And also Dovidl:  
you have to remind me--don't forget something--last year at Yakar we had--the 
whole week we were learning--so it was gevalt.  And I don't have all the seforim 
with me.

You know, sadly enough, sadly enough, the world is so eager to minimize 
everything holy.  I always tell my friends, do people ever say bad things about 
bad people? No, only about good people, right? If someone is bad, he is okay.  If 
someone is good, we have to cut him short, cut her short, right? We're living, 
basically, in a world of tailors.  Everybody cuts you short a little bit.

The way they translate--it's really crazy.  One is a Chocham.  One is wise.  Okay, I 
say, thank you, G-d. My child is wise.  Then I say, thank you, G-d.  My son is 
wicked.  You've gotta be an idiot to say that, right? Thank you, G-d--my son is a 
criminal.  Barukh haShem, he's in prison.  [Laughter]  Anyway--I have to tell you 
something funny.  A few years ago I really was a little bit sick.  There was a 
hospital.  Like, it was really a bad scene.  I had a little bit of trouble with my 
heart.  And, you know, in the emergency ward, so everybody's there together.  
But next to me was a patient, but he was actually in prison in Beersheva, but he 
was a little bit in the hospital.  He was very cute.  The whole night he was 
yelling, "In prison the bed is better than here in the hospital! [Laughter] And the 
food is better in prison than here.  I demand better food!" And then, you know, 
little bit.  Then he told me, he's so proud of his son, that his son, Barukh HaShem, 
is also a criminal [more laughter] and, Barukh HaShem, and both are sentenced to 
five years in prison.  "Ani--ani u-b'ni" [I, I and my son] "Ani u-b'ni bishvili."  Do 
you understand what this means for me?--me and my son together in prison? 
Gevalt, right? [Laughter continues.]  He was mamesh cute.  I would have wanted 
to record this, you know, just, for eternity, the way a Jewish father is proud of his 
son.  [Laughter.  Shlomo coughs twice.]

And then we come to the Tam, right? Tam is, like, an idiot.  [Greets another 
person] Hey, what's going on? Hey.  But then, in addition, he's such an idiot, he 
can't even open his mouth.  I'll say, thank you, G-d, Barukh HaShem, you know, I 
have a son who's completely underdeveloped.  He's already 35 years old, and he 
can't read or write.  The only thing he can do is eat.  Thank you so much, G-d.  It 
doesn't make sense, right? And one more question, which is the deepest:  do you 
know that Ma'alei b'Kodesh--Everything holy is always deeper, deeper, deeper, 
deeper.  And here we go down the drain! We start off with a wise person and 
end up with a complete idiot.

I want you to know, the first one--I don't know what happened before Levi 
Yitzchak--but the first one who like, khh!--who shot the arrow in the air--Reb Levi 
Yitzchak.  So here it is.  You know, G-d has many names.  Sometimes G-d is 
called, called Makom Ha-shel Olam.  G-d is the place of the world.  You know what 
it means? It means that G-d makes a place for everyone.  You know, the earth? 
Have you ever seen the earth saying, "Take your shoes off? Chutzpah, you're 
stepping on me?" The earth has space for everyone.  G-d is called the earth of 
everyone.  G-d says, you can always put your shoes on me, right? You can 
always stand on me.  So we say, Barukh HaMakom, Barukh Hu--who blesses G-d, 
who makes space for every one.  Blessed is G-d who makes space for the 
Chocham--for the wise--for the wicked--and for the Tam--and Shehno yodaya lishol 
[for the one who doesn't know how to ask]--we'll make it fast--I'm going b-r'shoot 
[with permission].  

What was it? Remember, we learned it.  We learned that every year, it's just so 
good.  What's the problem of the wise person? And you know that Seder night is 
a night of fixing.  I say, "Thank you, G-d, tonight"--and also, you know, all of us--
it's not only the outside.  Inside sometimes I'm a Chocham, sometimes I'm a 
Rasha--so we go through all those phases ourselves.  What's the problem with the 
wise person? The wise person is someone who knows everything but inside is 
dead 'cause he doesn't taste anything.  

You know, friends, I can be married [and] have the most beautiful children.  I can 
have the most beautiful house.  But it doesn't mean that I really tasted--that I 
really feel inside what I have.  So the Chocham is asking, "What's the Torah all 
about? I have a Ph.D. in Judaism"--so what? You know, it's like someone says, 
like asking the singing nun, "What is marriage all about?" You know--without 
saying anything bad about my friends, the singing nuns, right? They don't know 
what it is, right? But if you know what it is, if you know the words--do you know 
the inside?

So you know that so many moments in our lives we know everything, but gevalt, 
we don't taste it.  I want you to know something.  You and I, obviously, so many 
parents--just recently I was in somebody's house.  They have the cutest kids in 
the world, and the little boy says to his father  --he wanted to play with his father 
a little bit--so he says, "Daddy, I want to play with you a little bit."  I'm telling 
you, the lowest person in the world would melt--the way he answered him so 
rough.  "I have no time! I have some business to attend!" What kind of business 
did he have?

I was once in the office of a very big millionaire.  His little girl called up.  Then 
he says, "I told you not to disturb me in my office!" Bang.  This girl is so cute.  I 
wish I could have adopted her at that moment.  Well, so he is wise.  I'm sure he 
can write a book on marriage.  But he doesn't know anything.  So you know why 
we are not permitted to eat [anything else] after we eat the afikomen? So the taste 
of the matzah should stay with us. 

Obviously, we are asking him, "Have you ever tasted anything in your life? Did 
you ever do anything and the taste stayed with you for a long time?" You know, 
friends, imagine I meet somebody I like.  I meet them till six.  Ten after six, I 
meet somebody else.  When I meet someone I love very much, after the date, I 
cannot meet somebody else.  Because I love them so much--the taste--I don't 
want to destroy the taste.  Ah, it's so good.  You know, when you come from the 
holy wall--you don't turn around and you go to a movie.  Takes a long time to 
leave the holy wall.  Taste.

Then we come to the Rasha.  You see, the wise person is addicted--he is a slave to 
his mind.  He says, this is all there is to life, right? I know my wife, I know 
everything about her.  I know when she was born, and I know how she looks 
like, and I know how she cooks--what else is there to know? Nothing.  So the 
fixing of the Chocham is--Seder night, G-d opens gates, that this Chocham 
suddenly realizes, "Gevalt, am I off! Gevalt am I off.  Gevalt I need fixing."  

Then comes the Rasha.  You know, the Rasha is addicted to being bad.  The Rasha 
is somebody who wants to be good sometimes, but he can't bring himself to be 
good, because he's supposed to be bad, right.  You know, I know a lot of people-
-You gotta go, brother? Mamash, thank you.  Give him the biggest hand--he's 
mamash the best [large applause].  Thank you a million times.  Listen, beautiful 
friends, I'll make it fast.  I want you to know something.  What are the most 
heartbreaking moments in my life? I think I shared it with you already.  I play 
sometimes in prison.  Some time ago I played in this really maximum security 
prison.  And, you know, you don't go there for a weekend.  When you're sittin' 
there, you're there for a long time, you know? Anyway--and it has 2000 inmates.  
And, like, the director was afraid, if I played all of them together, it would be too 
wild, so he divided, four times 500, with guards, everything.  Okay, Barukh 
HaShem, it was beautiful, and at the end, I managed to kiss everyone and hug 
everyone, bless them to come out.  There was, nebich, a little black brother, who 
was eighteen years old, he's in for life.  Heartbreaking, right? In for life.  But 
really a cute guy, you know? So I give him a big hug, and I say, "I bless you with 
miracles, you should come out of here."  He walks up to the door, comes back to 
me, says, "Could you please give me another hug? I don't know if I'll ever get 
another hug again."  Nebich, gevalt.  You know what that means? And here let me 
tell you the two Torahs--three Torahs.

First of all, we tell the Rasha, "You think you're bad, right? So every time you 
meet people you think you have to bite them.  You don't have to bite people."  
I'm knocking out his teeth.  I'm saying, "Could you talk to me sweet? Can't you 
talk to me sweet?" And here comes the deepest depths of Torah.  This is really a 
must.  Rasha has three letters:  Resh, Ayin, is the outside--is "bad," right? And 
Shin is the inside, and Shin, the three lines of Shin are our relationship [to] 
Avraham, Yitzchak, Ya'akov--what we inherited from our forefathers--something 
so holy--something indestructible.  Indestructible.  So you know what the 
Hagadah says? You have to do something for him.  Cut out the Shin, that 
suddenly the inside should begin to shine.  And I tell him, "You know, you don't 
need teeth.  You don't have to bite people."  Have you ever seen those people, 
when you want to hug them, they put on that frown, "Not me!" Why not? I'm 
your brother.  I love you.  You know, there are some people are so rough on the 
outside, and they are so addicted--slaves! "I have to be bad!" I tell them, "You 
don't have to be."  All you have to do is let your insides shine.  And it'll be too 
long, but I want you to know the Hagadah.  The truth is, by the Rasha, telling his 
father--not to the Rasha, to the father.  What kind of father are you? You mean to 
say you never told your children how holy they are? You never gave them a 
connection to the inside? Sssss.  

You know I think I shared with you.  You know, I travel all the time; I come late 
at night to hotels.  Once late at night, I'm checking into a hotel, and the woman at 
the desk is mamash beautiful, sitting there crying.  I ask her, "Why are you 
crying? Forgive me for asking, but you're so beautiful.  Why are you crying?"  
She says, "You know, I'm only 27 years old, and tomorrow I have my ninth 
divorce."  Nebich, gevalt.  Can you imagine the brokenness of this woman? Listen 
to me.  I said to her, "Did your mother ever tell you how beautiful you are?" She 
says, "My mother would tell me constantly that I am so ugly that no man would 
ever want me.  And whenever I did something wrong, she would take soap 
water, put it in my mouth, and lock me in a closet for three hours."

I'm telling the father of this Rasha, what did you teach him? Li v'lo lo? [For me but 
not for him?] question mark.  Just you and not him? You're a good man? 
[Inaudible] Then it says, Eelu hayah sham [had he been there] I say to the father, "If 
you would have been in Egypt, you wouldn't have got out either.  'Cause G-d 
took us out of Egypt for our children's sake." But that is already far-reaching.

Then comes the Tam.  The Tam is--everybody knows, the Tam is the same letters 
like MaiS [death]--Mem Tov, right? This is so deep, friends.  You know what a 
dead person is? Everything is broken.  Whatever I see, wherever I look, looks 
bad.  In my father's shul was a Yid--he would come in Shabbos morning, and by 
the first five minutes, he already started a fight with seven people.  And gevalt, a 
genius. This one is wrong, this one is wrong, this one hurt his feelings, this one 
could hurt his feelings--you know what a Tam is? Not broken, but you know, the 
Tam asks Ma zos?--he asks what gives you the strength--what gives you the 
strength to be so whole? You know what Egypt is? The slave is a broken person.  
I'm afraid of this one, I'm afraid of this one
--and the Tam is the first one who tastes a little bit redemption.  But he says, "Ma 
zos?"--Gevalt! Where is the headquarters for redemption? I need more, right? I 
need more all the time.

Ah, I'm telling him.  Can you imagine? G-d created the world with his hands, 
right? But to get out of Egypt, even G-d had to stretch out his hand.  That means, 
humanly speaking, ah, this was even hard for G-d! This comes from a very high 
place in Heaven.  You can see the whole world as being beautiful, but what you 
need is something deeper than Heaven and Earth.  Ah, from the highest--from 
the highest headquarters [Hebrew phrase--b'chodeg yor?].  And then comes [shayni 
ha-deresh?] sh'ayno yodaya leesho [the one who doesn't know how to ask].  I want 
you to know something so deep.  This is mamesh deep.  Do you think we are 
praying for everything? There are certain things in life we are even ashamed to 
ask G-d.  We are even ashamed to ask G-d.  I want you to know something--the 
deepest depths.  That our holy mother Sarah was praying all her life for children, 
right? [Tsvi:  Daddy!] What do you think our holy mother Sarah felt when she 
was 80? Do you think inside she thought, "I can't even ask G-d anymore"? 

[End of recording from Side B.  I think there's a few minutes more, but I don't 
have it with me.  Maybe Dovid, in Berkeley, can finish it off.  Any help with the 
difficult-for-me-to-decipher Hebrew phrases would be much appreciated, as 
well as the identity of the other musicians (besides Aryeh Trupin, who I know 
was there), and other individuals with whom Shlomo interacted during the 
teaching.]

Chag Samayach!

Completed Erev Pesach, 14 Nisan, 5760/April 19, 2000, in Arad, Israel
      
(57 years since the uprising in the Warsaw Ghetto--the first sustained civilian 
revolt in Nazi-occupied Europe--and the first intentional ingestion of LSD-25, by 
Dr. Albert Hofmann, in Basel, Switzerland).

Note:  Needless to say, this work-in-progress has the legal status of a privately 
circulated manuscript, conferring no publication rights on any recipient, except 
for brief quotations or allusions, with the source clearly acknowledged.  It is my 
hope that at some not-too-distant time, the Shlomo Carlebach Foundation will 
begin to publish collections of Shlomo's teachings and stories, and that such 
work as this will find a place there.RG


Shlomo Teachings on Seder NightConclusion


Dear Chevra,

Shortly before Pesach, I posted a teaching from Reb Shlomo about Seder Night 
that he gave over on March 20, 1994, in Berkeley.  The transcript was incomplete 
because I didn't have the second tape with me, the concluding portion.  Now that 
Yehudit and I are back in Berkeley, I have been reunited with it and am at last 
able to send out the final piece.  This was Shlomo's final appearance in Berkeley 
and also was the last time I saw him.

I dedicate this portion of the transcript to the sacred memory of our friend and 
teacher Hannah Leah Bogost, who convened healing circles at her Ein Kerem 
home that still resonate like the deepest farbrengen.

Reuven

For the sake of clarity, I will begin with the passage preceding this one, 
excerpted from the earlier transcript:

Reb Shlomo:  I want you to know something so deep.  This is mamesh deep.  Do 
you think we are praying for everything? There are certain things in life we are 
even ashamed to ask G-d.  We are even ashamed to ask G-d.  I want you to know 
something--the deepest depths.  That our holy mother Sarah was praying all her 
life for children, right? What do you think our holy mother Sarah felt when she 
was 80? Do you think inside she thought, "I can't even ask G-d anymore"? [End 
of tape one]

[Second tape] The plan was, for the whole thing, when G-d answered her, G-d 
says, "I want you to know--all the time that you were ashamed to ask me, I heard 
your prayer."

And you know, friends, this is the deepest, deepest depths.  Sometimes [clears 
his throat], sometimes there are the deepest depths of our lives, deeper than 
knowing what the Torah is, deeper than being good or bad.  We all have 
something deep, deep inside, and we are ashamed to ask G-d.

It says, "v'shay-ayno yodea leeshol" [and as for the one who doesn't even know how 
to ask]-says, G-d, I want to ask you, but I don't even know how to ask you.  It's 
too much of a miracle.  You know, I always say, G-d, you know, I know you can 
do everything, but maybe this is too much, right? So the Baal ha-Geula says, ah, 
"P'sachla."  Tonight--

And you know why it says, "Aht b'lo sheh-n'kayra?" And this is the deepest.  
Because our holy mother-if you remember, the angel came the first morning of 
Pesach, right? [to announce the birth of Isaac]-and she opened gates, that there's 
nothing in the world you cannot ask of G-d.  Even if it looks beyond hopeless-
beyond hopeless.

So Reb Levi Yitzhak Berditchever says--he was always a gevalt-Master of the 
world, I am begging you, let me be the shaliach yodea leeshol-let me be the real one, 
the real one who knows deep, deep inside, I can ask everything of G-d.  And, 
um, I want to bless you and me we should never give up hope, and, basically, 
this is the last thing, because, I mean, we went back after two thousand years to 
the Holy Land-isn't it stupid? Let me ask you something.  A Yid is going to the 
gas chambers, and someone would ask him, "What are you praying for?" He 
says, "I'm praying for to go to Israel"? Crazy? Gevalt.  It was their prayers that 
brought us back to Israel.  V'shay-ayno yodea leeshol, right? The ones, the ones who 
said to G-d, "I'm ashamed to ask you."  (I'm ashamed to ask you.)

And also, I want to bless you and me and our parents and, as parents, husband 
and wife, they should be so close to each other that there should be nothing in 
the world that people we love couldn't ask of us-everything in the world-
everything, everything.

Okay, friends, so right now we have about five more minutes.  Five? We have 
two more minutes.  And Reuven and Yehudit, mamash, and everyone, thank you 
a million times.  And we gotta sing just one more good song.  It's beautiful to be 
with you, friends.  I bless you with the best Seder.

Jerry Strauss:  Bless you back-[murmurs of assent all around]

Shlomo:  And I bless you with the highest shay-ayno yodea leeshol.  And thank you, 
Jerry and Linda, for coming.

Leah Strauss:  Oh, thank you so much for being here.

Shlomo:  How long could I be without seeing you for so long? You know, 
everything has limits, right? [Strums and tunes his guitar] So one more song-
praying for the Holy Land [launches into a lively, upbeat rendition of Psalm 23, 
with everyone joining in, then stops after only two minutes].  A chasid came to 
the Alter Rebbe; he was from Siberia, far away.  He says, "Rebbe, you know, I 
live so far.  Will I ever see you again?" He says, "Yeah, you'll see me again."  He 
walked out, and he realized he forgot his handkerchief in the Alter Rebbe's 
room.  And he went back to pick it up.  Oy vey.  How sad, right?

RG:  That was it.

Shlomo:  That was it.  Okay, friends, I-I stop in the middle of the melody because 
I want to see you, I want to finish the song with you.  Thank you a million times-
have the best Yontif-and the most important thing is really,
really, G-d should bless us to see the whole world opening their doors, mamash 
opening their doors for Eliyahu HaNavi.

I mentioned it last night-the Ba'al Shem Tov says, "G-d created the world, but to 
make doors and windows, it's up to us."  Okay, good Yontif.  

[Applause, then the usual hubbub of animated conversation.  End of tape.]
	
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