Thursday, November 26, 2015

The Power Of A Niggun

Moshe (Mussa) Berlin
 
On Friday, before Shabbat, Rabbi Yisrael Lau (as a child) and his brother Naftali traveled from their home in Pietrikov to the camp in Chenstohova. From the far end of the cabin where they were sent, they heard a tune of "Mikdash Melech" ("The Temple of the King") from the poem, " Lecha Dodi." The Chazzan Yosef (Yoseleh) Mandelbaum was singing.
 
The melody somewhat eased the horrible suffering of Yisrael ("Lulik") and Naftali. Naftali guarded over his younger brother, as he had promised his mother to do when they were separated.
 
The daily schedule in the camp included hard labor that Naftali was required to do, while Yisrael, the younger brother, was left to fend for himself in the cabin. Day by day their hardship increased, but they were "consoled" somewhat by the sweet memory of the tune that they had heard, "Mikdash Melech."
 
The above is a summary of the story as it appears in Rabbi Lau's book, "Do Not Harm the Child."
 
My friend and fellow musician Berny Marinbach was searching for materials for a program for Holocaust Memorial Day, and he came across this story. Along the way to come to me for a visit, he met Barbara Mevorach, and she told him that her father attended the synagogue where the chazzan Yoseleh Mandelbaum prayed.
 
Mandelbaum had survived the Holocaust, and he returned to the Chassidic sect of Bobov, where he grew up, and where he composed many new tunes. This added another element to the story, and we now knew more about Yoseleh Mandelbaum.
 
However, the third element was still missing. Berny asked me: "What is the melody of Mikdash Melech?" I suggested a tune to him which I had known for some time, and I gave him a recording and the music written by Yoseleh Mandelbaum, the chazzan of Bobov.
 
And now we had to verify that our tune for Mikdash Melech was the same melody that the two brothers heard in the camp, in Chenstohova. I asked Naftali Lavie if he remembered the tune, and he said he did not. I asked if he would recognize it if I played it, and he said he would. When I sang it, Naftali agreed that this indeed seemed to be the right melody.
 
When Naftali celebrated his eightieth birthday, we came to his house and played Mikdash Melech. I cannot describe the excited tremor that took hold of all the people who were present.
 
 
Rabbi Benny Lau, Naftali's son, told me: "This tune has accompanied our family ever since that wonderful birthday celebration, nine years ago." When Naftali passed away, this melody was played at the burial ceremony.
Rabbi Benny Lau said, "The burial in the earth of Jerusalem accompanied by the tune of Mikdash Melech in the background was a perfect heart-wrenching ending to my father's life story."