I recently spent a day visiting various Shuls in Monsey, including Belz, Satmar, Toldos Aharon, and Viznitz. Here’s a little bit about my experience visiting these Shuls, as well as some reflections.
Belz
My first stop of the day was the Belz Shul, located in – what seems to me to be – the heart of Chassidic Monsey. I’d been to the large Belz Beis Medrash in Jerusalem many times, but wanted to see what the Chassidus was like in America.
The main Shul in Monsey was under construction but they had a makeshift Shul that was essentially a tent. It was a hot summer day and the tent was air conditioned to a chill.
Once I stepped into the Shul, I began looking for a Sefer Tehillim but without much success. A man who was learning on the Eastern wall got up and came up to me with a warm “Shalom Aleichem.” He had a long white beard and peyos and I’d imagine he’s retired (I visited on a Thursday morning around 11am). He asked me what I was looking for, directed me to the shelf full of Tehillim books, and told me to take a cup of coffee, pointing to the coffee station right outside of the sanctuary.
There were only a few men sitting there learning, yet two came up to me to welcome me, one asking where I came from.
I opened the Tehillim and began to recite the two Kapitelim I say every month (my extended family finishes Tehillim together every month). The Tehillim book was a Belz version, the cover saying “Avodas Hashem,” which I believe is also on the Belz Siddurim and other Belz Seforim. Inside the Tehillim was an interesting Tefillah called “Tefilliah LeShalom HaAretz,” which is a prayer where the reader asks Hashem that no “Tzara” — suffering — should happen in their city, or whichever place they choose to daven for.
I also grabbed a “Halacha U’Mussar Yomit” booklet for the month of Tammuz (the current Hebrew month when I visited), which has Mishna Brura and Orchos Tzaddikim in it that you can study by the day. The Halachos section included the laws of Birchas HaMazon and Tisha B’Av. On the last page was a Belz calendar for the month that included the Halacha of the day (ex: kuf ayin chet on the Shulchan Aruch), the Talmud page of the day, the Mishna Yomi, and the “Ahavat Torah” of the day (I’m not sure what that is). The booklet was sponsored l’illui nishmas Avraham Yehuda Feiner, Z”L.
I sat down in a random seat in the back of the Shul to say my Tehillim. To my right was a wall full of Seforim. On the table next to me was a bottle of Slivovitz — a famous Jewish plum brandy — plastic shot glasses, and a piece of old Babka. These were likely leftovers from a Tikkun, which is when people eat and drink after Shacharis on a Yahrzeit (the anniversary of someone’s death), keeping the person who’s Yahrzeit it is in mind as they say a Bracha (usually the son of the person who passed away will provide the food and liqueur).
On my way out of the Shul, I passed the coffee station, which had sugar cubes — something you rarely see anymore — tea, and some instant coffee options. There were also lockers (where people leave their tallis and teffilin or other items?), and a poster with a picture of the current Belz Rebbe, who lives in Kiryas Belz in Jerusalem. The poster was highlighting the upcoming Yahrzeit of a previous Belz Rebbe and asking for a Kvittel, which is a donation to the Rebbe (which I believe goes to the Chassidic dynasty/court, who distributes the donation).
Sheli’s Pizza
I stopped in at Sheli’s pizza for a snack. I got eggplant fries, which were delicious but too fried to eat more than a handful.
Satmar
Satmar was just about the opposite of Belz; it was absolutely packed with people. It was hard to find a parking spot even though the Shul has a massive parking lot.
I started out by going down to the Shul’s basement, which had multiple rooms with constant Minyanim (and there were Chassidim davening Shacharis around 1pm — I’ve heard that Chassidim are more lax with Zmanim), a Seforim store, a place to buy drinks and snacks, a coffee room, and a Mikvah.
I went for a dip in the Mikvah. To get in, you put $3 into a machine and then you can go through a revolving metal door. There were fresh towels and two different Mikvas, each a different temperature.
After the Mikvah, I went upstairs to the main Beis Medrash. There were dozens — if not over 100 — bachurim learning. Most seemed to be in their 20s. In the middle of the room was an extremely ornate chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The Aron was tall and intricately carved from a beautiful wood. Most people were learning in partners. Also, interestingly, most of the Bachurim take off their black hats when they learn. I even saw a Toldos Aharon Chassid from Jerusalem in the Beis Medrash; you can tell by the distinctive Zebra coat.
Unlike Belz, no one came up to me in Satmar except for a couple of young men saying that they’re Chassonim in Eretz Yisroel and can use a donation.
In the Beis Medrash, I found a booklet version of “VeYoel Moshe,” Reb Yoel Teitelbaum’s seminal work on Yishuv Eretz Yisroel and ideological issues with Zionism and the modern State of Israel. On the front cover of the booklet was a sticker that read “special to this Beis Medrash, please do not remove.”
Toldos Aharon
After Satmar, I visited Toldos Aharon, my favorite Chassidus. Right when I walked into the Beis Medrash, a kind Toldos Aharon Chossid named Aharon came straight up to me to say Shalom Aleichem and find out who I am. We got into a long conversation even though his English was broken. He encouraged me to learn more in Chavrusas and attend Shiurim in my community. His parents and grandparents are from Jerusalem and his family goes back many many generations in Jerusalem.
Ironically, Toldos Aharon is one of the most insular sects and also one of the friendliest. Almost every time I’ve walked into a Toldos Aharon Beis Medrash, someone has come up to me to introduce themselves and have a conversation.
The Beis Medrash is right across the street from a beautiful lake and I imagine it’s an amazing sight on Rosh Hashana when everyone is there saying Tashlich.
I sat down in the Beis Medrash to learn a Toldos Aharon Sefer about the Kedusha of Shabbos. It covers topics like preparing for Shabbos, receiving Shabbos, Oneg Shabbos, and the day of Shabbos. One section of the book, for example, was explaining how preparing for Shabbos is the key to making Shabbos holy. The more one prepares for Shabbos — both physically and spiritually — the more one gets out of Shabbos. Another section talks about making yourself a “Kli” (a vessel) for receiving the Kedusha and Shefa of Shabbos. If you work to make yourself “kosher” during the six days of the week — one can better receive the Kedusha of Shabbos.
The Beis Medrash was pretty empty, maybe 4-5 people were davening and learning there. To the right of where I sat was a bottle of Vodka, a bottle of Banana liquor, and crumbs from baked goods. These were likely leftovers from a post-Shacharis Tikkun for a Yahrzeit (similar to what I saw in Belz).
Seforim Store
Next, I stopped at a Seforim store called Lishkas Hasofer to buy a Mezuzah. The store has a little window where the Sofer works from. Most of the store is Hebrew Seforim and they have a large section of Gemaras and Daf Yomi books.
Viznitz
To end my Monsey day, I davened Mincha at the main Viznitz Shul in Kaser, a village within Monsey. The Shul is packed with people learning and davening. The Minyan took place in the Shul’s basement, where there are a number of tiny sanctuaries and a stream of constant Minyanim.
After Chazaras Hashatz, the Shaliach Tzibbur started saying Tachnun, pounding his chest with his right hand. The whole room was silent until someone yelled out “Yisgadel,” implying that the Shaliach Tzibbur should skip Tachnun and move on to Kaddish. In my experience davening in Chassidishe Shuls, at least in America, they often don’t say Tachnun during Mincha. I’m not sure where this Minhag comes from (maybe one of my readers does?).
Reflections
There’s a deep spirituality in Hasidic Shuls that’s hard to put my finger on but is very present when visiting. You’re surrounded by people who care so deeply about their davening and learning. It creates an incredibly religious and spiritual environment; it’s hard not to be inspired religiously.
Thousands and thousands of Chassidim have poured out their souls in these Shuls. Learning and davening with blood, sweat, and tears that seep into the chairs, tables, and walls.
There’s also an incredible vibrancy in Hasidic Shuls, something you rarely see in most Shuls, especially the Modern Orthodox ones I grew up in. On a random Thursday afternoon, the Hasidic Shuls in Monsey were packed with Yidden davening, learning, and kibitzing. In many Shuls, that’s something you only see on Shabbos.
The Hasidic World 