Book Reviewed By Yochanan Gordon
It is said that man represents an entire world. Chazal say that one who saves just one soul is considered to have saved an entire world. There is a verse which states that G‑d had invested the entire world within the heart of man. A verse in Psalms also states, “G‑d has placed the entire expanse of the universe under the feet of man.”
Let’s just say that the depth, majesty, and mystery of the cosmos emerge more clearly in some people than in others. One such majestic person is the world-famous composer Yossi Green. While some of us have experienced much of that depth and creativity in his music over the past 40 years, the release of his first sefer, “×ž× ×’×™× ×ª ×—×™×™” (The Melody of My Life), presents a whole new vista in the world of Yossi Green that has not been duly expressed until now.
Because I opened with the analogy of creation, it’s a theme that I’d like to follow throughout this review of his sefer–because a composition of music and the amalgamation of thoughts into words, sentences, paragraphs, and pages are also an aspect of creation; not yesh me’ayin, but creation nonetheless.
Sifrei chassidus, whose words are interspersed throughout this profound literary masterpiece, speak at length regarding the involvement of letters in the creation of existence. The Zohar famously wrote that G‑d peered into the Torah and created the world. The holy Ruzhiner writes that the entire Torah is embedded in the crown which sits atop the letter beis in the word Bereishis.
Taking this idea a step further, there are two worlds spoken of in these great works of spirituality–tohu and tikkun, chaos and rectification. I sensed “tohu” in the introduction of the book, where Yossi begins with the term “hmmm” as he pondered to venture forth in the creation of the book that at that moment was all in his head and had not yet been articulated. “Hmmm” does not express a definite meaning; it’s simply the feeling that one encounters when faced with a great challenge, prior to charting a path toward its fulfillment.
Another important idea that played an integral role in the creation of this world was the notion of tzimtzum. Tzimtzum, which is translated as contraction, describes the process through which an infinite G‑d was able to diminish Himself to go from the realm of infinity into finitude. While this relates to the ability of taking something from the realm of thought into words, it relates as well to another theme that I noticed throughout this book, and that is Yossi’s interaction with and attention to his admirers, fans, and crowds that he had encountered in various stages throughout the world.
This relates to a full chapter in the book, titled ‘Pi Tzaddik’ (the mouth of a righteous one). This chapter was, for me, among the most touching, as much of it was centered on the author’s reminiscences of three recent spiritual giants and leaders of the Jewish people–Reb Yoel Teitelbaum, the Satmar Rebbe, in whose presence the author spent much of his formative years and whose sagacity he closely follows; the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Reb Menachem Mendel Schneerson; and the Ribnitzer Rebbe, Reb Chaim Zanvil Abramowitz, whom Reb Yossi had met and been blessed by on numerous occasions over the years.
Specifically, this chapter observes the sad irony that all three of these tzaddikim, who were known for the endless spring of Torah, their power of tefillah and berachah that poured forth from their essence throughout decades of selfless leadership, lost their ability to speak due to illness. But the essence of the idea explored through this chapter is that their greatness stemmed from how greatly they imparted of their wisdom to their disciples. Where some may think that greatness is a personal feat, in the world of Torah it relates more to one’s ability to diminish himself in order to impart of himself to others.
Coming back to the world of Kabbalah and Chassidus, the relationship between a rebbe and a talmid is known as that of a mashpia and mekabel, or giver and receiver. While we may see the mashpia as the greater of the two parties in this relationship, that is not true. Based on the Chazal which states, “I have learned much from my rabbis, but from my students I have learned even more than I did from them,” it is clear that a large part of one’s greatness comes from interactions with those who at first glance seem inferior to them.
I saw this in the way Yossi spoke of his audiences and the manner in which he was attentive to and even learned from them along the way. It speaks of a humble disposition which in many ways is the true yardstick of one’s success and ultimate greatness.
If you’re thinking that this describes something much more ethereal than a book that highlights the career of one of Jewish music’s most storied composers, then you must have not read this book and perhaps you don’t really appreciate Jewish music. Although cursorily this book seems to detail the historical evolution of “popular Jewish music,” as the author likes to coin it, there is a profound moral at its core.
×ž× ×’×™× ×ª ×—×™×™ is precisely the melody of Yossi Green’s life. It’s a testament to the fact that the music comes from deep within Yossi’s core. This is how the Maggid of Mezeritch interpreted the verse “וְהָיָה ×›Ö¼Ö°× Ö·×’Ö¼Öµ×Ÿ ×”Ö·×žÖ°× Ö·×’Ö¼Öµ×Ÿ וַתְּהִי עָלָיו יַד ה׳”. The Maggid explains that a nagen is an instrument while a menagen is singer. The difference between an instrument and a singer is that the tune which emanates from an instrument is one with the instrument, whereas with a singer it is an external expression of the singer.
The Maggid explains that if you want Torah to leave an indelible imprint on the lives of its students, then it has to be one with the teacher who is imparting it. The emergence of this sefer and the stories that sit at the backdrop of the songs that many of us grew up with make it clear that Yossi Green and his music are inextricable. This is a must-read!
Comments are welcome at ygordon@5tjt.com.
