Motzei Shabbos Chanukah officially served as the start of what promises to be a phenomenal couple of weeks filled with siyumim and Torah celebrations in many locations around the world. But tonight we are at Yerushalayim’s Binyanei Hauma, getting ready to celebrate the initial Dirshu siyum in Yerushalayim. The beautiful event begins as do so many Dirshu events: with music. Music encapsulates so much of Jewish life, and the culmination of the conclusion of the entire Shas is no different. If there is any time to sing and dance, this is it. The hall is filled with an incredible sense of happiness and accomplishment.

As Reb Moshe Mona Rosenblum leads the stellar orchestra, the auditorium begins to fill with exuberant Yidden—the majority still bedecked in their Shabbos clothing.

This is a major night of celebration. A night when gedolei hador and young talmidei chachamim join together to celebrate the accomplishments of so many sincere bnei Torah. Can you imagine what it feels like for a person who spent the last seven and a half years learning Shas and is now standing poised to cross the finish line? He has given his all, day after day, winter and summer, when he was awake and when he was tired. He made no excuses and never wavered in his goal.

And that is all by a regular misayem of Shas.

This, however, is a Dirshu siyum—which means that the people here who finished Shas didn’t just learn through the dapim. Instead they did it the Dirshu way. With passionate learning culminating in rigorous tests given on a regular basis. And while most people do not like being tested, the members of Dirshu love being tested and thank Dirshu for the opportunity to take their learning and make it part of them.

When the master of ceremonies introduced Rav Dovid Hofstedter, the nasi of Dirshu, he was greeted by an outpouring of love and affection from the bnei Torah who filled the hall. This is in deference to his role in leading Dirshu to the great heights it has achieved. With a modest demeanor and a genuine desire to see the spreading of Torah learning everywhere, Rav Dovid has been fortunate to see the Dirshu organization take root and succeed beyond anyone’s wildest dreams.

Tonight is a night of true celebration.

Celebrating learning.

Celebrating what it means to be a Jew who learns Torah—even in 2019, even in a world filled with turmoil.

This is who we are and this is what we do.

We learn—and we learn to know. Dirshu style.

Rav Ezrachi, rosh yeshiva of the Mir, begins the night with a resounding speech spurring his listeners to action.

The thrust of his speech is simple and powerful.

He explains that the tnai, the condition for learning Torah, is that a person love the Torah. The Torah can tell when a Yid loves to learn its words, and waits for an opportunity to learn a few more lines and another daf. The Torah has its own language; it’s not always easy to understand that language, and in order to understand it you have to really want it, and you have to daven for the zechus like great tzaddikim throughout the ages.

The members of Dirshu speak the language of Torah learning. They speak the language of people who love the Torah and want to make its words part of their very neshamos. And because they feel this way and want Torah in their lives more than anything else, the Torah smiles at them and gives them what they want more than anything in the world.

High above the stage, the words “Dirshu Hashem V’uzo Bakshu Fanav Tamid” appear on the gigantic screen, the eternal message entering every heart, the thunderous tune filling every corner of the cavernous room.

It’s a Siyum HaShas but it’s also Motzei Shabbos Chanukah, which means that it’s time to hear the words of Rav Dovid’s original niggun for Ma’oz Tzur. Two singers, one Litvish, the second chasidish, stand on the stairs between the two sections of the gedolim-filled dais and sing the beautiful song. On the screen there is a collage of pictures of gedolim lighting Chanukah licht in their homes and shuls around the globe. They touch a chord in every heart.

As the strains of Ma’oz Tzur fade away, Rav Dovid Hofstedter is introduced to speak. Hearing the name of the nasi of Dirshu, the crowd bursts into spontaneous applause—something that occurs every time his name is mentioned.

Rav Dovid discusses the mesiras nefesh he has witnessed among the members of Dirshu.

“Where does this mesiras nefesh come from?” he asks the crowd.

He then relates how he has asked this very same question countless times to Dirshu members around the world.

“I ask them, ‘Did you ever dream that you would one day be able to reach the madreigos in learning that you have attained? Did you ever believe that you would be able to take tests on the entire Shas or Mishnah Berurah?’

“Time after time, they answer me with the same answer, telling me that no, they never believed they would be able to reach the goals they have achieved.

“‘We don’t have the kishronos, we know that we don’t. What we have done is beyond our capabilities, beyond what we ever imagined possible. B’derech hateva we should not have been able to do any of this!’

“And yet we have thousands and thousands of people around the world taking multiple tests on so many complex subjects—even though they never thought they could.

“So how is this possible?”

Rav Dovid then shares a fascinating insight with his listeners on the topic of Yaakov Avinu and the pachim ketanim, the tiny jugs that our ancestor remained behind on the riverbank to fight for. He explains that we, the children of Yaakov Avinu, have inherited his mesiras nefesh—the same mesiras nefesh that klal Yisrael exhibited when it came to the “pach hashemen,” the little jug of oil that was used in the Beis Hamikdash to light the menorah for eight days against all odds.

It is this mesiras nefesh we can use to do things we imagined were impossible, to learn and know and accomplish.

“Even when it looks like there’s no chance,” Rav Dovid said, “we can do all sorts of incredible things and accomplish that which we never believed possible. We can do it; it’s our yerusha, our inheritance from Yaakov Avinu. At the moment when it seems like all the koach is finished, that’s davka when we see that we have the strength to do the impossible!”

As always, Rav Dovid’s message is right on track.

In truth, who is better suited to give chizuk to so many bnei Torah than the man who travels the world being mechazek the thousands of members of Dirshu, the very people who never believed they would be able to accomplish the impossible goals they set for themselves—and which he has seen them do time after time.

The crowd in Binyanei Hauma has ceased being a collective sum of parts and become one extended family, all waiting for the great moment: the moment when the Admor of Erlau will make his way to the podium and utter the final words of Talmud Bavli.

Hadran Alecha Talmud Bavli.

We will return to you, Talmud Bavli.

These are the words that millions of Yidden yearn to say. Some have the zechus to utter these holy words once or twice throughout their lives. Others have the opportunity to recite the Hadran on a more regular basis.

And then there are those who are constantly making siyumim on masechtos of Shas and for whom the words of the siyum are familiar and beloved—davka because they are constantly finishing more and more parts of Torah. These are the Shas Yidden—Yidden whose entire lives are bound up with the words of Shas and poskim, many of whom belong to Dirshu. For these people, the streets of the Gemara are as familiar as the roads on which they live.

The Admor of Erlau recited the words of the Hadran, and the crowd waited in anticipation.

Silence filled the room as the final Kaddish was recited. The tense silence that precedes an outpouring of excitement. This was it. Here it came. The big moment. The moment everyone had been waiting for—for the last seven and a half years, from the last time so many thousands of Yidden had come together for the very same celebration.

And then the final words of Kaddish were uttered.

A resounding “Amen” was heard and the sound of music resounded through the hall as every one of the thousands of people joined hands and became a huge mass celebrating the simcha shel mitzvah.

What a moment it was!!!

“Ana, ana, ana, avda d’Kudsha B’rich Hu!!!”

“V’taher libeinu l’avdicha b’emes!!!”

Across the hall, rows and rows of Yidden moved and danced, jumping up and down with happiness.

“Ashreichem, ashreichem, ashreichem, talmidei chachamim!”

What a moment! What a night! What glory for Torah and those who learn it!

It was a triumph for the Ribono Shel Olam looking down at His children and seeing a huge room filled with people who yearn to draw close to Him, who want nothing more than to make the Torah their own.

But it was also a triumph for the members of Dirshu who toiled long and hard to reach this point. They know the taste of hard work, but more importantly, they know the taste of success, the taste of Yaakov Avinu’s mesiras nefesh, the taste of the “pachim ketanim,” the taste of the “pach shemen,” the taste of the thousands of years of Torah learning combined with true mesiras nefesh.

Can there be a greater feeling in the world than the mesiras nefesh of true Torah learning? What a night, what a night!!!

Praised is he who bore witness to such joy!!!

And praised is he who is lucky enough to be part of Dirshu!!

By Rabbi Nachman Seltzer

�An incredible outcome of every siyum that Dirshu celebrates is the fact that many more chashuve Yidden inevitably make the decision to join the Dirshu movement. Tonight as well I cannot help but wonder how many Yidden will be sufficiently moved by what they have witnessed here that they will decide to pick themselves up and join the 219,000 members of Dirshu.

As I sat and pondered this question, something happened on the stage.

Reb Moshe Mona Rosenblum approached the podium and began to speak.

Reb Moshe is one of the most famous and talented arrangers and composers in Jewish music. He has been a very strong part of the Jewish music scene for the last number of decades. He is known as “Mr. Music.” He is not known as a speaker or orator. And yet, here he was addressing the assembled.

As he spoke, the room fell completely silent.

“I was asked to write a song about Rav Aharon Leib Shteinman, zichrono l’vrocho,” he began. “This request put me under a tremendous amount of stress. How could I possibly write a song that would do justice to a tzaddik like Rav Aharon Leib?

“I didn’t know what to do. And so I davened. I davened for many days and asked Hashem to send me the right words and the right tune. But I was very nervous about the task I had been assigned.

“And then one morning I was making my way home from shul early in the morning, and the perfect words jumped into my mind.

“‘Lev tahor barah li Elokim.’

“Why were these words so perfect?

“The answer was simple. They were perfect because they summed up Rav Aharon Leib. You see, Rav Aharon Leib possessed a heart that was so pure, so free of impurities. It was as if the words had been written to describe him, the holy tzaddik from Bnei Brak. The words were perfect. I couldn’t have asked for something better. And then, at that moment a wonderful niggun entered my mind and I knew that I had been given a wonderful gift from above!”

After that introduction, Reb Moshe Mona’s brand-new Lev Tahor was sung. And it made a grand impression on every person in the hall.

And once again I asked myself, “How many people are going to join the world of Dirshu after hearing this song and taking part in such a night?”

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