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והיו לכם לציצת וראיתם אתו וזכרתם את כל מצות ד'

It shall constitute Tzitzis for you, that you may see it and remember all the commandments of Hashem. (15:38)

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What is it about the mitzvah of Tzitzis that the Torah, more so than for any other mitzvah, emphasizes that it will engender within us the remembrance of all of the other mitzvos? The commentators render explanations, ranging from the simple p’shat, to the homiletic and even to the esoteric. Perhaps, we might suggest the following: Tzitzis, unlike any other mitzvah, also comprises the Jew’s uniform. A Tallis katan is worn all day. The Tallis gadol is worn during davening, and some righteous Jews even sit in their Tallis and Tefillin throughout the day. In any event, the Tallis is the Jew’s uniform, which he wears with pride. When a person speaks with Hashem during his moments of prayer, the Tallis ensconces him. When a person leaves this world, the Tallis covers his mortal remains. In other words, what greater witness to a person’s avodas Hashem, service to the Almighty, is there than the Tallis/Tzitzis which he wears constantly? What does this have to do with remembering all of the mitzvos? Simply, he needs the support of his Tzitzis when he stands before the Almighty. One does not “mess around” in front of his most critical witness. Therefore, the Tzitzis reinforces his commitment to all of the other mitzvos.

Horav Aharon Rokeach, zl, the Belzer Rebbe, would encourage Bar-Mitzvah boys, as they entered the mitzvah of Tefillin, to accept upon themselves never to speak divrei chullin, mundane matters, while wearing the Tefillin. Understandably, this is a powerful commitment to accept and even more difficult to maintain. One of the special young men, who with great resolution succeeded in keeping with the Rebbe’s adjuration, became a chassan.  On the day of his wedding, he appeared before the Rebbe to ask for his blessing. The Rebbe asked, “Are you prepared to accept upon yourself never to speak mundane matters while you are wearing your Tallis – as you accepted with regard to your Tefillin?” The chassan replied in the affirmative.

The Rebbe then explained the reason for his request. “After one hundred and twenty years, when you will come before the Heavenly Tribunal, you will be judged for your actions in your mortal life. The eimas ha’din, fear/awe of judgment, will be compelling. You will stand there entirely overwhelmed. You will have one support, however, one merit in your behalf: you are standing wrapped in your Tallis, the Tallis that you wore all of your adult life. This Tallis will attest to the fact that you never spoke mundane speech the entire time that you wore your Tallis. You will say to the Tribunal: During my mortal years, I spoke nothing but words of Torah while I was wearing my Tallis. This time should be no different. Let us talk Torah!”

The Taz left over in his will that, should he die, he insists that he be buried in his old Tallis, because it would testify before Hashem that its wearer never had inappropriate thoughts during the Shemoneh Esrai prayer. Therefore, the Tzitzis garment, with the accompanying Tallis, spent the “day” with its wearer – a phenomenon not unknown to the wearer. He is acutely aware that the Tzitzis are with him for the duration of his physical journey – even serving as his “chaperone” and life witness as his soul stands before the Heavenly Tribunal. Thus, the Tzitzis is a perfect reminder of his religious affiliation and concomitant responsibilities. One expects a witness to testify to the truth. In order to facilitate this, it is necessary to provide the witness with positive activity, so that his testimony will be in his behalf – not to his detriment.

Horav Yosef Berger, Shlita, relates a well-known story, which also, in an earlier edition, found its way into Peninim. It is one well-worth repeating for the lesson it imparts concerning the significance of the garments one wears in the performance of a mitzvah. In a small town, it was discovered that an individual whose reputation as a tzaddik, righteous person, preceded him, had been buried without the traditional tachrichim, shrouds, and Tallis. Instead, this saintly Jew had been buried wearing the vestments of a priest. After research into this anomaly, it was discovered that it was at the tzaddik’s behest that he had been buried in such a strange uniform. The reason was based on an incident which had occurred during his life.

Apparently, aside from his spiritual devotion, this man was also very devoted to the poor of his community, seeing to it that those who had unfortunately been unable to put bread on the table would have the means to do so. He reached out to widows and orphans, young men and women who stood at the threshold of matrimony, without a cent to their name. He found ways to help them all. Not being a wealthy man himself, this meant dedicating a number of hours each day to knocking on doors, raising money for those in need. Over the years, he became the address for all those who were down and out.

One day, during his house-to-house collections, he chanced upon a group of men who were having what they perceived as a good time. The cards were out, and the whiskey was flowing. In the midst of this revelry, there was a knock on the door and a solemn-faced rabbi stands there asking for alms to marry off a poor orphan girl. These men were perhaps fine people in an inebriated state. Now, they were into having some “fun.”  “We will give you what you want. In fact, we will pay for the wedding, if you don a priest’s vestments and walk through the city – all day.”

This was a pretty heavy request, but the tzaddik was unfazed. He went to the local monastery and borrowed a uniform of the church. He walked throughout the town all day, to the jeers and banter of all who beheld his strange costume. At the end of the day, he appeared at the house of “fun” and asked the men to pay up. Having sobered up a bit, they realized what they had promised, but they were true to their word and paid for the wedding.

Prior to his passing, the tzaddik asked the members of the chevra kaddisha, Jewish Burial Society, to bury him in the priestly vestments, which he had saved: “They will be my protection before the Heavenly Tribunal. The shame which I sustained on behalf of a poor orphan girl will confirm my entrance into Gan Eden.”

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