[Video below.] At a time when the frum world is grappling with extraordinary communal challenges, Rav Kalman Epstein, Rosh Yeshiva of Shaar Hatorah in Queens, delivered a forceful and deeply reflective message about the escalating culture of extravagance in our community—lavish weddings, multi-course smorgasbords, and even the rise of private jets becoming a normalized symbol of status.
Speaking last night, he urged Klal Yisroel to confront the spiritual cost of this lifestyle honestly and courageously.
Rav Epstein began by reflecting on COVID, a period that disrupted every facet of Jewish communal life. With weddings limited, bar mitzvahs scaled down, and parlor meetings halted, he had hoped this would spark a long-needed cultural reset away from excess.
“One of the things that happened during COVID [is] that there weren’t any, at least most of the time, there weren’t any large gatherings. People stopped making big chasunas and big bar mitzvahs and parlor meetings. And we thought, I don’t know, we thought, at least I thought, that maybe this will be an impetus for the community. Here we’re not talking about yechidim. Yechidim really can’t change that…”
But instead of shifting permanently to simpler simchos, the Rosh Yeshiva lamented that the opposite has happened—extravagance has grown even more entrenched.
“And that affluence brought with it tremendous extravagance. And we thought that, again I say, at least I thought, that maybe that tekufah when that extravagance can’t be practiced will make it permanent, that we’ll learn that this is not the way we’re supposed to live.”
Rav Epstein explained that the Torah’s model of life is the very opposite of showiness. He invoked the pasuk of “hatzneia leches,” which he described as a mandate to live quietly, modestly, and without self-display.
“When we say, higid lecha adam ma tov u’ma Hashem doresh mimcha, asos mishpat v’ahavas chesed, and v’hatzneia leches im Hashem Elokecha, hatzneia leches means that you’re not supposed to have 20-man bands at weddings. You’re not supposed to have shmorgasbords, meals, and then something afterwards, whatever they call it. It means that Yidden are not supposed to show and not supposed to show themselves.”
In one of the most pointed comments of the evening, he highlighted the proliferation of private planes owned by members of the community.
“It means that we live in a situation where the airport in Lakewood is full of private planes. That’s not who we are supposed to be. Maybe it’s not even, most of us are, but it’s not who we’re supposed to be. We’re supposed to be… hatzneia leches means we’re supposed to be b’sheket, we’re supposed to be quiet, we’re not supposed to be showy. That’s what hatzneia leches means. And that’s the tzurah of Klal Yisrael.”
Rav Epstein drew a direct link between unchecked materialism and a weakening of spiritual sensitivity. Historically, he explained, our lack of material abundance actually elevated us.
“Because to the extent that we engage in gashmiyus, we lose ruchniyus. Yidden once upon a time when they were in the shtetlach and they were poor and they didn’t have much, but because they didn’t have much, because the gashmiyus wasn’t, the gashmiyus is a stirah to ruchniyus. Because the gashmiyus wasn’t there, then they felt closer to the Ribbono Shel Olam.”
He quoted Chazal’s instruction to daven not for luxuries, but for the ability to have Torah penetrate the heart.
“K’fi erech that is, Chazal say, k’fi erech ad she’atem mispallel that you should get parnasah, that you should get ma’adanim, you should be mispallel that you should get, that the Torah should go into libcha. You should be mispallel not to have ma’adanim. Ma’adanim and gashmiyus is a stirah to the feeling of kirvas Elokim, to the feeling of the Ribbono Shel Olam.”
The Rosh Yeshiva then shifted to a more recent chapter of suffering—Jewish hostages held in horrific underground captivity. Their plight, he said, should have stirred the community to more introspection and restraint.
“In the past few years when there were hostages who were in a horrible matzav, and if we were misbonein their matzav, it also should have been difficult for us to engage in extravagant gashmiyus.”
He told over the remarkable reaction of Rav Yitzchok Kolodetsky—son-in-law of Rav Chaim Kanievsky—who stopped sleeping in a bed during the hostage crisis.
“Rav Yitzchok Kolodetsky, the son-in-law of Rav Chaim Kanievsky, who comes to America sometimes, I’m told that when the hostages were taken a few years ago, he stopped sleeping in a bed. How could I sleep in a bed when there are hostages who are underground in a horrible matzav?”
And he shared a moving story about his own family—a young bar mitzvah boy who chose to sleep without a pillow.
“I have a niece who made a bar mitzvah recently. And her bar mitzvah boy, who at the time that the hostages were taken was 11 years old – this is on his own, they live in Lakewood, this is on his own – he decided that he can’t sleep, he stopped sleeping with a pillow. An 11-year-old boy, he had that hergesh that if there are hostages, if there are hostages who are in such a horrible matzav, how could I sleep on a pillow? How could I use things that are more gashmiyus than I need? I can manage to sleep without a pillow.”
Rav Epstein stressed that no one is asking people to sleep on the floor or deprive themselves of basic comforts. But he urged Klal Yisroel to take the message to heart: Hashem expects us to live as a mamleches kohanim v’goy kadosh, a nation that does not drown itself in luxury.
“And even though at this point in time maybe, at this point in time there are no hostages, at this point in time we don’t expect anybody to sleep without a pillow, we don’t expect anybody to sleep on the floor. But we still should be misbonen to what we’re supposed to learn from this. That even though we don’t have to, we don’t have to do things that are metza’er ourselves, but we should learn that the Ribbono Shel Olam wants us to live as a mamleches kohanim v’goy kadosh.”
Because spiritual depth, he emphasized, cannot coexist with unrestrained indulgence.
“And a mamleches kohanim v’goy kadosh doesn’t engage in this extravagant gashmius, because that’s the only way to engage and connect and feel the kirvas Elokim…and feel ruchnius is if we’re mema’et in the gashmius that we can afford and that we’re capable of.”
The Rosh Yeshiva closed with a heartfelt personal plea, one he said applies to himself as much as anyone.
“I just hope, one hopes, that this is not, I am saying this for myself too, I’m not just saying this for all of you. We just hope that we we all learn from these terrible years that passed, and hopefully the terrible years are over. The terrible years that passed, how we’re supposed to view things, what’s supposed to be important in life, what we’re supposed to be machshiv and what we’re not supposed to be machshiv.”
And finally, he reminded listeners of the promise embedded in living according to Hashem’s expectations.
“And if b’ezras Hashem if we’re mekayem what Hashem is doresh from us, which is ahavas chesed, asos mishpat, ahavas chesed, and hatznei’a leches, we’ll be zoicheh to see that b’karov, be zoicheh to see that the bracha and the tefillos that we’re mispallel on Rosh Chodesh that it should be a new beginning, a new start, and we should be zoicheh to geulos and yeshuos, the klal and the prat.”
WATCH:
{Matzav.com}