A number of years ago, I wrote an article for this newspaper entitled “Learning from the Mafia,” which later appeared in my ArtScroll book Blueprints. That somewhat odd provenance sought to create a modern-day kal vachomer. A researcher discovered that when leaders of the infamous crime syndicate sought to cultivate new young leadership, they looked for certain signs of nascent “talent” or hopefully evil traits. If a young man exhibited early cruelty, flashes of sadistic behavior or similar horrible middos, he would be tested, groomed and taught the evil trade. The kal vachomer was how much more carefully we should be mechanech our children to become the tzaddikim and tzidkaniyos we dream of and Klal Yisroel requires.

Now, a number of years later, we have discovered that not one but several generations of Americans — and other western countries — have been infected by a heinous conspiracy to alter and distort our vulnerable young people. The continent of Europe has been almost completely destroyed by this dark humanly inflicted epidemic and the United States may not be far behind. For decades, the universities have been polluted by the ultimate shochad — billions strategically spent on higher and even elementary education. Teachers, professors, what today are called “influencers,” and others capable of molding naïve and unsuspecting minds have — perhaps irrevocably — ruined the most important gift a human being has, the mind itself. The power of demagogues, indoctrination masquerading as teaching, and brainwashing dressed up as intellectual courses, have all ganged up to give birth to the monster generation we are witnessing.

In point of fact, the initiation system of the mafia pales by comparison in its corruption with the patience and endurance of Qatar and other sources of funding provided by radical Islam, the evil left and classic anti-Semitism. What we, in New York, have been horrified to watch, as it metastasizes its way through the bloodstream of our city, would have been unthinkable just a few short years ago. Unfortunately, our enemies have planned for longer and been smarter than the average decent citizen, to the detriment of us all. We just learned in Pirkei Avos (4:1), “Who is wise? He who learns from every person.” Early meforshim (see Eizer Shmuel, ibid., page 415) teach that this refers to learning from our enemies.

At this point in history, they are way ahead of us. Not only the universities, but the media, and often sports and popular culture figures, have been bought off or simply overcome by the onslaught of pretense, duplicity and hypocrisy to which they have been exposed. The opening posuk of this week’s sedrah teaches, “Judges and officers shall you appoint in all she’arecha — the gates of your cites.” The Shelah Hakadosh (Derech Chaim, Tochachas Mussar) cites the Sefer Yetzirah, which identifies the “gates” as “the eyes, ears, mouth” and other organs that allow the world to enter into our brains and souls. Rav Elya Lopian (see Ohr HaTorah, page 738) used to quote this Shelah to demonstrate how dangerous it is to open ourselves up to anything the eye can see or the ear has access to hear. We, unfortunately, can now add that just as the borders of our cities throughout the world have often been opened without investigation or even torn down entirely, so have the so-called guardians of our educational institutions not only failed us but purposefully poisoned the waters.

Now that we have entered the month of Elul, it is a propitious time for us to take stock of ourselves and decide what course of action to take. Elul is the end of the year, but, more importantly, the time to look ahead. Where are we and where should we be going? How serious is all of this? Nothing could be more crucial and life-altering. When the president of the United States has faced several assassination attempts, to no great reaction; when a young man, Luigi Mangione, can shoot an innocent man in the back because he disagrees with something legal that he does for a living, and many are cheering the murderer; when thirty-four Harvard groups can express approval for the October 7th Simchas Torah massacres of innocents, it is time to take stock of ourselves and the world itself. Although many people have likened the DSA phenomenon to that of Nazi Germany in the 1930s, we must be honest that it may be even worse. At that time, the Nazi threat was limited to Germany, whereas anti-Semitism is now rampant throughout most of the ostensibly civilized world. Yes, this is serious indeed.

I must add a story that I heard personally that accentuates the changes that have occurred in the world. I was extremely close with the great Sefardic leader, Rav Eliezer Ben-David, mashgiach of Porat Yosef. I had the zechus of translating and adapting his work, Out of the Iron Furnace ,and traveling with him to many Sefardic events. He shared with me that on one of his fundraising trips to the United States, he found himself waiting in a Chicago office filled with many people. Spotting a fellow Sefardic Jew, he struck up a conversation with him in Hebrew. When they were finished, he noticed that a clearly gentile man had been staring intently at them. Although the other Jew went back to his own family, the stranger continued to look intently at Rav Ben-David. Very politely, the rov asked, in his broken English, “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Yes,” the man responded. “Can you tell me if you are Jewish?”

Rav Eliezer was a bit nervous but answered directly, “Yes, why do you wish to know?”

The response was shocking and uplifting.

“You see,” he responded, “I am from Mexico and I have never seen a Jew before. Now that I have met you, I know that I am meeting the children of G-d. I would like to ask you a question. May I?”

The rov responded, now somewhat relieved, but still wary.

“I think of many things all the time — my job, my family, sports, politics — but you are one of G-d’s children. You must always be thinking of the Creator. Can you please tell me what you are thinking right now?”

I don’t recall what Rav Ben-David’s response was, but to me, he said, “Imagine, to a gentile who has never seen a Yid, he expects us to be constantly thinking about Hashem. I take this as a message from the Borei Olam that I must improve myself in the middah of shivisi Hashem lenegdi somid.”

Wow! There was a time, not so long ago, when gentiles looked up to us and thought that we are never meisiach daas from Hashem. Have we fallen from what Chazal (Chagigah 14a) call m’igra rama l’birah amikta — from a high tower into a lowly pit? We all know that during ikvesa d’Meshicha, there will be hard times. Surely, the Nazis, Soviet Union, and many intifadas were terrifying and horrific. But we are now facing a generation that has been infected and defiled to the point that it is almost unrecognizable as being human, sane or reliable in any way as being rational and capable of independent thought.

But this is not the time to lose hope. The essence of Elul is “Ani leDodi veDodi li.” We know, beyond any doubt, that Hashem loves us and we love Him. So what should we do now? This month. This year.

This past Shabbos, I related an extremely uplifting story told by Rav Shlomo Miller. It is a summer story, but, more importantly, it is laden with light with which we can penetrate all this darkness. Toward the end of the zeman, a yeshiva decided to reward the bochurim with a trip to celebrate a successful year of learning Torah. The yeshiva rented a water park and busses, and spirits were high. As the two busses pulled up to the destination, the rabbeim were horrified to see that another school, this time a Bais Yaakov, was also unloading several busloads of bnos Yisroel. Of course, the rabbeim immediately ordered the bus to exit the premises, leaving over 50 boys depressed, angry and certainly disappointed. However, one young boy asked for the mike and spoke into the bus P.A. system. “Guys, listen. Hashem didn’t want us to see anything with a lack of tznius, so we are leaving. What a zechus we have that we are doing the will of Hashem.” Then he began singing “Ashreinu mah tov chelkeinu umah yafah yerushaseinu.” The entire bus erupted into a holy fire of kedusha and taharah.

When the two busses met up at their now new destination, a park where they could at least play some ball, the rabbeim on bus #1 told the story to the rabbeim from bus #2.

“What?” they responded in shock. “The exact same thing happened on our bus. What was the boy’s name?”

The answer was, “Yossi Cohen.”

Now it was the other rebbi’s turn to marvel. “Our singer was his brother, Chaim.”

When the principal was told this wonderful story, he immediately called the parents to give them the nachas report. The parents who noticed where the call was coming from got very nervous, but were soon relieved and proud. “How did you raise such amazing children?” the menahel inquired. The mother gave full credit to her husband, but he told the “rest of the story.”

Six months before, his wife took the children clothing shopping. They were going to a family simcha and everyone needed something. However, it had been a long day, and the children were all thirsty. “Wait a moment. I will get drinks for everyone,” the mother said. The bus pulled up, but as they were about to finally drink, the mother announced to their chagrin, “I’m so sorry. I bought the wrong bottles. These don’t have a good hechsher. We can’t drink them.”

When they got home, the mother took out packages of ice cream and rewarded them for their patience. A little later, when the father arrived, he heard the whole story and complimented his children’s reaction, understanding and patience. Then he announced, “Let’s now go to the store. Every one of you can pick three candies or desserts that you want.”

At home, the father lit candles as if it was Shabbos and announced. “This is a Yom Tov for us all, a historic day for our family. When you accept the will of Hashem and don’t complain, that makes Hashem and all of us very happy and fortunate. Let’s sing Ashreinu. We are children of Hashem and He wants only what is good for us. You know that and we are so proud of you.”

This Elul, let us all sing Ashreinu that we different. We have our own chinuch. We have the Torah. Hashem loves us and we love Him. We may be going through a difficult time, but it will only lead to the geulah sheleimah bemeheirah beyominu. Amein.