This week commemorated the nine-year anniversary of Yossi Kaltmann’s passing, who was both my father and my personal role model. He came into this world in 1928 in Bratislava, which at the time was part of Czechoslovakia. There, he bore witness to the atrocities of the Holocaust and managed to survive through seven different concentration camps. Eventually, he embraced his identity with pride as an observant Jew first in Israel and then in Australia.

On observing his yahrzeit, I received an image that initially angered me but eventually filled me with hope and restored my resilience. The photograph appeared next to a report about a defaced Jewish graveyard in Humenné, Slovakia, showing an aged headstone marred by graffiti of a black swastika.

Prior to the war, Jews made up one-third of Humenné’s population of around 7,000 people; nowadays, barely any trace of Jewish life remains in the town. The cemetery serves as the final reminder of the vibrant Jewish community that thrived in Slovakia for numerous centuries.

The defacing of Jewish
cemeteries
Is a scourge that regrettably continues to linger within the ranks of society’s scum and anti-Semitic individuals aiming to demean and dishearten us, while also robbing our forebears of their deserved tranquility in death.

Last year, I journeyed to Slovakia to pray at the graves of my forebears, making this specific tale resonate more deeply with me than anything I’d previously encountered.

However, upon examining the picture more closely of this
swastika-tagged Jewish headstone
, something unexpected transpired.

Despite being eroded almost entirely by centuries of wear and tear, the headstone retained two distinct Hebrew words — cutting through the haze and gloom like a vibrant rainbow amidst a tempestuous storm.

The words  “Menachem Chaim” – which literally means “comfort” and “life” – radiated through the grotesque graffiti, almost as if they were responding directly to the hateful symbol covering them.

We have no knowledge of who Menachem Chaim was, nor do we know when he lived or passed away. However, it appears that God utilized his gravestone as a canvas, deliberately inscribing a message of solace and optimism there, intended for us to decipher only many generations afterward.

This mirrors the natural world, where an antidote to a lethal plant can often be discovered nearby. Likewise, these vandals, driven by mindless malice, unintentionally emphasized precisely those words which provide the ideal cure for their poison. This aligns with Talmudic teaching that states God brings forth healing before affliction (Megillah 13b).

Importance of the title within the framework of Jewish gravesites

The title Menachem Chaim holds considerable importance, particularly when discussing Jewish cemeteries. According to Jewish customs, there are three terms used for a graveyard, each highlighting a distinct aspect of how we perceive death and remembrance.

The initial concept is Beit Hakvarot – a place of burials, which acknowledges the tangible and sudden nature of death. The subsequent idea is Bait Olam – a realm of eternity, signifying that spiritual existence extends beyond physical demise.

However, it is the third name that the vandals inadvertently highlighted: Beit Hachaim – a house of life. This title underscores how Jewish tradition views cemeteries as more than just storage places for the deceased; they serve as custodians of enduring remembrance.

Despite physical demise, our nefesh — the vital essence of life — continues to linger around the burial ground. That’s why this term, nefesh, is employed in esoteric texts when discussing headstones.

Through spray-painting their vile symbols on that sacred tombstone, and trying to instill fear and silence within the Jewish community — this despicable and cowardly action only fortified our determination and spiritual resilience.

Such acts do not divide Jews; rather, they bring us together by reminding us of our common history and fate, which surpasses every geographical, denominational, and ideological barrier.

In 2024, when neo-Nazis held a rally close to my congregation in Columbus, Ohio, I reflected on the fact that we face two options in responding to hatred. Instead of focusing solely on punishing those who do wrong, we should commit ourselves to amplifying the positivity we wish to see in society. We can achieve this through performing more acts of goodwill and kindness, along with carrying out mitzvahs to combat the spiritual gloom brought about by such hateful actions.

When my beloved father would place the tefillin on himself every morning and wind the strap seven times around his arm, he would reflect on each of the seven concentration camps he had endured.

It was an intentional decision within his daily spiritual routine, aimed at combating the malevolence and pessimism from years past. Each instance the dark band wrapped around his limb served as a reminder of his emancipation.

It has been nine years since I last witnessed him putting on tefillin, yet the determination and vigor with which he performed this act underscored how our good deeds generate profound spiritual power capable of banishing all shadows.

Throughout the millennia of
Jewish history
, we all revisit the tale of Menachem Chaim. Those two words encapsulate everything — our solace arises from within as we lead vibrant and prosperous Jewish lives.

As our people endure defamation and desecration, we rise as a sacred and ethereal nation—a community that stands united against hatred and emerges more resilient despite such challenges.

Much like how my father transformed his sorrow into a consistent source of significance and resolve, we also have the ability to embrace an unwavering zest for life – a joyous appreciation that cannot be erased by any vandals or terrorists.

The author, who is a rabbi, serves as the co-director of both the Lori Schottenstein Chabad Center in Columbus and LifeTown Columbus. For additional details, you can visit their website.
www.chabadcolumbus.com
.