Ober der Rebbe zogt!

[A re-post]

There is a story I heard from the shliach of Lexington, MA, Rabbi Bukiet. I am not too clear on the details, so if someone knows them, let me know.

There was one Shabbos when a chossid of the Frierdiker Rebbe and the Rebbe (who was “just” FR’s son-in-law at the time) found themselves together in a shull in France or in Germany. They were the only Lubavitchers in the shull. After everyone finished davening and proceeded to kiddush, the chossid and the Rebbe remained davening. Then the chossid finished and went to make the kiddush for himself, leaving the Rebbe standing alone, his face covered with a talles.

After a while, the Rebbe finished and joined the table. He made the kiddush for himself and sat opposite the chossid. Now, this chossid was an alter chossid of the Frierdiker Rebbe who was in France (or Germany) fund-raising. The Rebbe was dressed meticulously, as it says in Russian, “from a needle”. I am not talking about meticulously for a Russian (that doesn’t take much) — meticulously for a French (or a German). Looking at the chossid, it was not clear whether he put his pants that day right way or backwards, where they belonged or on his head. The typical chassidish shleperdic look, in other words.

The Rebbe looked for a long time at the chossid and then proceeded to give a long vort on the parsha, drawing from mystical sources and going higher and higher in his explanations. Now, the chossid was a simple guy, a simple oived; he was there to collect money, and he was happy to be at the kiddush table on Shabbos, and also happy to listen to the son-in-law of the Rebbe, even if he didn’t understand a word.

Suddenly the Rebbe changed the subject. He said: in Pirkey Avos, second chapter it says:

רבי אומר:
איזוהי דרך ישרה שיבור לו האדם
כל שהיא תפארת לעושיה ותפארת לו מן האדם

(Rebbi Yehudah HaNassi said: Which is the proper course that a man should choose for himself? That which is an honor to him and elicits honor from his fellow men.)

Now, said the Rebbe, the language of this Mishna is unclear. It starts with “Rebbi oimer”, implying that there is a disagreement between Rebbi Yehudah HaNassi and the majority of the Sages. It is as if the rest of the Sages are saying: what does it matter to “elicit honor from his fellow men”?

A lot of people, continued the Rebbe, think the same way nowadays. We have our path. We have our Yiddishkeit. If others are interested, let them come and observe. Let them learn what they can. But we shall not adapt to them, will not make our ways “understandable” and acceptable to them. And it seems that this approach makes sense. Why should we change who we are for them?

Ober der Rebbe zogt! (“But the Rebbe says...!”)

These are not the times, concluded the Rebbe, to have the philosophy of “this is our way… let whoever is interested come, but if not, not…”. We have to make Yiddishkeit presentable and understandable for the rest of the world. On all levels.

In my humble opinion, this could mean many things. It could mean bringing down the ideas of Yiddishkeit from deepest to simplest to people far from Judaism. It could mean making Judaism presentable and desirable. It could mean bringing yourself to the level of someone you are trying to influence and getting interested in something which otherwise would never interest you. Not pretending to be interested, but really being interested.

Sometimes it also means simply behaving like a mentch, with basic civility. “Which is the proper course that a man should choose for himself? That which is an honor to him and elicits honor from his fellow men.”

On shlichus in Alabama

A report of Lag Ba’Omer experiences to follow soon. Meanwhile, a joke I heard on Shabbos:

There was a tzaddik who said that if any of his followers ever finds himself in a difficult place, he should call out the tzaddik’s name, and he will come to save his follower. So, sure enough, one of the tzaddik’s chassidim ends up in Gehennom and calls out the tzaddik’s name. The tzaddik shows up and pulls him out of Gehennom.

So, a Lubavitcher chossid who once heard this somehow ends up in Gehennom himself. He decides to call on the Lubavitcher Rebbe to pull him out. He calls out: “Rebbe, Rebbe!” The Rebbe shows up, sees the chossid and says, giving him a dollar: “Oh, you’re there? Good. I need someone there. Brocho and hatzlocho on your shlichus.”

And now on something completely different:

Something in the air

As is well known, Alter Rebbe had three cheiderim: from Aleph to Gimmel. Cheider Aleph was more complicated than Beis, and Beis than Gimmel. Talmidim from a lower cheider were naturally not allowed to sit on the classes of a higher cheider. But the opposite was  also true.

One chossid from the cheider Aleph really wanted to hear what Alter Rebbe was teaching in the cheider Gimmel. So, he bribed some of the talmidim there (with promises of Chassidus) to sneak him in. He hid under a table. Then it turned out that Alter Rebbe was being delayed. So, he said: “I am going to sleep here in the corner; when the Rebbe enters the building, wake me up.”

After a while, Alter Rebbe suddenly entered the building, and the talmidim hurriedly woke the chossid up. He didn’t have time to wash nigleh vasser, but since one is not necessarily obligated to do so after having slept during the day, he just went back to his hiding place under the table. Alter Rebbe came in and immediately said: “Oy, there is ruach tumah in here.” The chossid jumped out from under the table and ran out.

* * *

A similar story had happened to Alter Rebbe himself. One year in Mezeritch, he didn’t have a metal cup for the seider. So, he kashered a glass cup by filling it up with water and letting it sit for a day and then repeating it two more times. According to most opinions — but not all — that is ok.

Then, when the seider was about to start, the Maggid was hesitant. He was waiting and waiting, and finally got up and started walking around. He came to Alter Rebbe and asked him about the origins of the cup. Alter Rebbe told him. The Maggid said: “There is a malach standing next to me and not allowing me to start the seider. He says that according to some, there is chometz on my table. Please throw this cup away — I will share my cup with you.”

This part of the story is my favorite: “According to some, there is chometz on my table.”

Where does it say that in Halacha?

For yet another time I am re-posting the quote below.

The context (this time) is a statement on one of the blogs that a solution to the “shidduch crisis” is to pull down mechitza — figuratively and literally, except in the cases explicitly mandated by Halacha (i.e., davening). The author of the opinion says, for example, that mehadrin buses in Eretz Yisroel which separate men and women are counter-productive to healthy opportunities for young singles to meet. To my surprised response: “Do you want the singles to meet on a bus?”, the author responded along the lines of: “What’s the problem?” (Note that I am not endorsing the mehadrin buses themselves or the behavior of chareidim on them. That’s a separate issue.)

To me, the answer (of what the problem is) is rather clear from multiple perspectives. I consulted with my rabbis to make sure I am not nuts, and they confirmed that at least in this issue I seem to be within boundaries of reason. I.e., that it is certainly an authentic value in Judaism that tznius goes beyond a skirt length, and that separation between genders goes beyond davening. There are very clear reasons for this that are, moreover, very rational.

My point right now is not to discuss the issue of tznius and solutions to shidduch crisis. I wanted to express my opinion that stripping Judaism to the bare bones of Halacha is, in and of itself, past nisht. (More on the topic here.) Now the excerpt from the post on Circus Tent:

Today in the US we have a whole range of people under 60, American born, whose knowledge of Judaism is based exclusively on books, and those books are the Shulchan Aruch and Gemora. Most of these people had parents who I am sure were fine people but left behind the emotional attachment to echte Yiddishkayt in Europe. Here they belonged to Young Israel synagogues and became very acculturated and lost that special hergesh. In America, Judaism was reduced to learning and doing mitzvos by rote. These people include most MO Jews, the so-called Yeshiva community, and even some “Amerikane Chasidim”.

On the other side we have people whose view of Judaism was shaped by seeing how their parents acted, felt, laughed, cried, talked and walked. These people tended to have a genuine Mesorah. They saw Judaism as more than just book learning, and the book learning included Midrash, Chassidus, Sifrei Mussar, vechulu. This people tend to be Chassidic and a few Misnagdim who come from European homes. And in the background of all of this loomed the Holocaust, not Coney Island! To the first category Rabbonim are “machinove”, automated people who act in a mathematical way, and have no emotions. The second category knows that Judaism is more than the dry letter of the law.

Even though it is not the main topic of my post, my rabbi points out that the so-called “shidduch crisis” seems to be affecting the groups listed in the first, not the second paragraph (the ones whose mechitza is barely there as it is).

Update: the point of my quoting the above passage is not to compare the two types of communities, but to compare the two approaches to Torah.

The world is watching

Very good post about chillul Hashem. I wish I was as holy as the Rebbe’s melamed in cheider to walk our whenever something bad was spoken about other Jews. But I’ve seen the effects of chillul Hashem firsthand — it affected me, my friends (and former friends), and my family.

I have already expressed my frustration on the subject. Long gone are the times when Frierdiker Rebbe wrote in a letter that for a talmid chochom it is inappropriate to walk on the street, eating sunflower seeds. Today everyone dresses in a suit and wears a hat, since — hey, we are Jews! We are not supposed to dress casually, like goyim. And yet we find, strangely enough, that the people who dress in jeans and are lenient on half their mitzvos behave like mentchen, while those that are not eating strawberries for kashrus concerns and make sure their cereal is pas Yisroel behave like beheimas.

Be machmir on gebrochts in you behavior first. You are here to make the world G-dly.

(And, as anyone reading my blog can see, I am all for chumras and hiddurim. One of the comments on that post said something like: “Ironically, one of these people would look at MO woman in pants and think: ‘What a shame!’” Well, it is ironic. He should be looking at himself first. But the fact that this woman is wearing pants is a shame.)

Tradition, tradition! (Part 5) — Shtreimels

I guess shtreimels were indeed the hats of Polish nobility:



Of course, when your scenery looks like this —



— there is a reason to wear a warm woolly hat. And wearing it was a sign of nobility, because a hat like this cost a good amount of money. (Above pictures from some 17th century Polish footage.)

On the other hand, in this weather...



...perhaps such clothes would be more appropriate:



I refer you to my earlier post about traditions (see part 2).

(It is well known that the Lubavitcher Rebbeim did not wear a shtreimel outside of Lubavitch. I suppose the climate in Crimea or Carlsbad was much softer...)

Od yeshama...

Typical scene in Western Ukraine... (For TRS and other fundamentalists who don’t watch YouTube — Jewish content here.)

Reb Dunin's yechidus

A couple encounters of Reb Reuven Dunin (mentioned before) with the Rebbe.

From here:

“How do I know whether I am fulfilling the Rebbe's will?”

Putting down the bundle of letters, the Rebbe calmly answered, “If you act in accordance with the Shulchan Aruch [Code of Jewish Law], then you know you are acting in accordance with my will. For if not, that means there are doubts about whether I fulfill the Shulchan Aruch.” [...]

“The thoughts that come from the yetzer [inclination] — you have to grab the yetzer by the sleeve and toss him out, and do what you have to do. Do not get into arguments with him; instead, turn your thoughts towards Torah matters, to whatever is necessary. [...]”

From an e-mail sent by Rabbi Kirschenbaum, the author of the above blog (I can't find a post with the same contents):

“Why are you so angry? What is the reason you are not someach (joyful)? I told you that I wanted you to be be'simcha. If you don't do my work with happiness, then you are not fulfilling my will, and you are not performing in the same way that I am.

“Because I can't be everywhere at once. I can't be in Holon, Kfar Chabad, Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, Eilat, Paris, Melbourne — and also in Brooklyn! Therefore I send out shluchim. I chose for you to go to Haifa and I want to make you a high commander, a general. I would hope that knowing what I want would be a source of joy that would stay with you — just knowing that the one who is being commanded is doing what his commander wants.” [...]

“It is not enough that you and your wife are Chassidim,” he added. “The children, too, must be my Chassidim and their material needs properly met. I want your whole family to be comfortable, so that they will be the finest Chassidim they can be.”

Chessed and gevurah

The most bizarre thing I’ve seen in a while. Well, today.



You know you want to watch this in HD.

My favorite characters were the dude in the hussar uniform in a hat with a feather (which matched his beard so well) and the people who kept walking around with chairs.

Some people really know how to have fun

Learning Tanya — two ways to view the world

(“Response” = egocentric strategy; “Place” = allocentric strategy)

In Neuroscience and Psychology, two strategies of navigation are described. The first strategy, egocentric, tries to memorize turns. It envisions the world rotating around self and connects in sequence the places where one must turn or go straight. The second strategy, allocentric, visualizes one on a map and tries to calculate how to get from where one is right now to where one’s goal is. What one sees in one’s mind is not the world rotating around oneself, but oneself being a dot on the world’s map. (See the picture above.)

There are two types of people who learn Tanya. People from the first group, as they learn, try to figure out what Tanya does for their own spiritual development, their closeness with G-d, their internal growth. People from the second group ask the questions: “In what way do I know more about how to serve my Creator? What am I lacking, and how can I cause more pleasure to Hashem and fulfill the purpose for which He created the world?”

The second group of people, following allocentric and altruistic strategy, are the true Lubavitch chassidim. (And the only reason, by the way, that they see in Tanya explaining how one can become truly joyous is that being joyous is a key to being the best possible servant of G-d. A depressed soul does not make dwelling place for G-d in this world as successfully. So, in the end, it’s all about making a keli — out of oneself — for G-d.)

* * *

One more thing. Just because one learns Tanya, it doesn’t mean he is not a misnaged or someone who dislikes Chabad. It just means he is not a complete ignoramus. It doesn’t take much to recognize that a modern Jew must learn Tanya.

(Source of the figure: “The Role of the Basal Ganglia in Habit Formation”; Yin and Knowlton, 2006)

Of chickens, tzaddikim and Chassidim

(pictures taken from Artemiy Lebedev’s travels blog)

A very simple thought, consisting of a combination of my thoughts, my rabbi’s thoughts and my friend’s vort. If you think you know what I am talking about, just keep reading. Perhaps you don’t. Also, apparently, coffee helps ADD. I personally prefer pictures of Stokholm subway.

Last night, my friend Boruch told the famous story of Baal Shem Tov about a prince who thought he was a chicken. [Those of you who know the story can skip until the next brackets, after the picture.] Sitting under the table, without pants, clucking away, etc. Then came a big chochom and told the king he would cure the prince. He sat under the table, also without pants, also clucking away and eating corn. This went on for several days, and the prince started getting used to another “chicken”.

Then suddenly, one day, the chochom showed up wearing pants. Prince asked: “I thought you were a chicken?! How can you be wearing pants?” The chochom answered: “Sure, I am a chicken. Do pants define me? I know I am a chicken, so what does it matter that I wear pants?” To the prince this seemed reasonable, and he also started wearing pants. Then, in a few days, the chochom started wearing a shirt, then wearing shoes, then eating at the table, etc., etc. The prince followed his example every time and gradually started behaving again as a human being (or, even better, as a prince), still thinking, nevertheless, that he was a chicken.



[Those who knew the story can resume here.] What’s the point of the story? We are all souls in this world that think we are like goyim. In reality, we are not. There is nothing wrong with being goyim, but we are not them — we are something else. We do, however, look, feel and behave like them. After all, why not? So, this is the purpose of the tzaddikim — to show us that we are not goyim but Jews. The tzaddikim come down to our level, sit under the table with us, eating corn, and slowly they elevate us to what the appropriate behavior for Jews, for princes, is.

Add to that what the Alter Rebbe says in Tanya about how tzaddikim are like a head of the body, and each cell receives its livelihood from the head and therefore needs to attach itself to it — and therefore, we need to attach ourselves to the tzaddikim — and you have Chassidus.

But you do not yet have Chassidus Chabad. Because being a Chossid of the Lubavitcher Rebbe is something additional. The Rebbe is not simply a tzaddik who tells us that we are not chickens and shows us how to behave ourselves. He is not simply the source of our livelihood, a channel through which Hashem’s blessing reaches our souls. He is the Lubavitcher Rebbe. Let me repeat myself: I am not talking simply about the Rabbi Menachem Mendel Shneerson. I am talking about the Lubavitcher Rebbe (whom, in our generation, the aforementioned Rabbi merited to become, fifty eight years ago).



What difference does this make? Very simple. The Lubavitcher Rebbe is a particular tzaddik whose Torah will not just connect a Jew to Hashem, and elevate him, and allow him to progress in his avoida and his middos, etc., etc.

The Lubavitcher Rebbe is a channel through which Chassidus Chabad enters this world — and as a result, he is the particular tzaddik whose Torah will teach a Jew how to bring geulah, how to bring Mashiach. He is a tzaddik whose Torah (combined with Torah of all the preceding Rebbeim Chabad) will teach a Jew how to connect the world with Hashem. How to realize on all levels, that literally ein of milvado, there is nothing but G-d (in this world, in the spiritual worlds, in all of reality, in all of behavior, in all of thoughts and in all of Torah), allow that realization completely transform his soul and behavior and bring closer the time when this will be revealed in and through this world.

Because this state of affairs (when Hashem will be revealed in and through this particular lowly world) is the reason and purpose with which Hashem created all existence, spiritual, physical and in between (i.e., not only our world, not only our world and the spiritual worlds “above” it, but also the infinite number of worlds that exist within the Simple Purity of His Light as it existed before the creation), and this state of affairs will be brought through our efforts, in this generation, specifically as a result of us following the teachings of the Rebbe that influence our generation — because of all this, Chassidus Chabad is the essential point of all Torah.

And the Rebbe, as a result, is Nosi HaDor, the leader of our generation. Let me repeat myself (because some people, including some very smart people who know much more Torah than me, seem to be confused about this): I am not talking about Rabbi Menachem Mendel Shneerson. I am talking about the Lubavitcher Rebbe, the source of Chassidus Chabad.

Now, being Nosi HaDor, the Rebbe is the source of instructions of how to bring Mashiach. He is also the channel through which we receive our livelihood, as Alter Rebbe writes in Tanya. This is true regarding all Jews — whether they know about this or not. Chabad Chassidim know about this (i.e., they do not think this way because they are Chabad Chassidim; they are Chabad Chassidim because they know this).



This is a special privilege. And a special responsibility. Not only do we have to know everything that all the Jews know and do everything that all the Jews do, but we need to know it and do it better. Because we are the shluchim of the Rebbe — through whatever medium this happens. And when we realize this and allow this to penetrate our consciousness, our perception and our actions, we receive a special blessing from the Rebbe in all we do.

Because we don’t do it for ourselves. We don’t do it for our physical pleasures, we don’t do it for the spiritual pleasures. We don’t do it for this world, for the world-to-come, for Lower Gan Eiden or for Higher Gan Eiden.

We do it for G-d alone. For the day when He and His Name will be One.

Heimish vs. Aimish

One time my rabbi was asked if a non-Jewish girl can come and observe the Kabbalos Shabbos, Friday night dinner, etc. I don’t remember if this was for a paper or a project or just out of curiosity.

He answered: “This is not a zoo.”

I don’t really understand this phenomenon (see also the article on CrownHeight.info).

What was the point of this? So, to go to a theater is past nisht, because it’s a public act of bittul Torah. But to walk around Crown Heights with Aimish, showing off Chassidim to them as “not so different from you” and to the rest of the world as “cute little cartoon characters” (yes I stole this phrase from Stranger Amongst Us) is fine?

What exactly was the point of this? In what way is it Kiddush Hashem to associate ourselves with backward, primitive people who distrust technology because it will supposedly ruin their lives and push them away from G-d?

Let those who ban Internet associate themselves with the Aimish. The Chabad way is: “Everything that G-d created, He created for His glory” and “just because the fools worship sun, moon and stars, should G-d destroy His Universe?” We use technology and the rest of this world for G-dly purposes and thus make a dwelling place for G-d in this world. Also, we don’t draw the strength from banning things and creating walls around ourselves — we draw strength from making sure Judaism is internalized, deep and meaningful for us, not superficial and based on emotions and only simple faith. “Chochma—Bina—Daas”, man. (Even as Chassidim, we don’t hold on to our Rebbe’s gartel, but learn his teachings. The theology of Judaism.)

Yes, it is important to influence the “outside”, both Jews and, lehavdil, non-Jews. But these are religious, fundamentalist Christians. The whole time they were thinking: “This is all very nice, but these people killed our god.” They don’t allow technology take over their lives — good for them. Nu, so what does this have to do with us? They are superficially similar to Chassidim; yeah, this thought has passed through many people’s minds. It’s cute. But only superficially. It seems that the Aimish themselves saw this clearly too:

John Lapp and his wife, Priscilla, brought their three children on the tour. John Lapp said the ties to the communities might be more surface than substance.

"In some things we are alike, like our clothing and our traditional beliefs," he said. Priscilla Lapp added, "And in some things we are not. The biggest thing is that [that man] is our savior."

Also, everyone knows that journalists lie. And that they will paint anything two feet to the right or to the left of Brad Pitt as exotic and backwards. This tendency stems from liberals’ love to observe foreign primitive cultures and, as Arbat writes, to become distressed when the natives’ “natural culture” is disrupted by immunization shots or installation of toilets in their houses.

So, the best thing to prevent this is control what reaches the media. When you invite a bunch of Aimish to Crown Heights, you are sure to get these pearls:

Today's Lubavitchers wear the black hats and beards of their 18th-century forebears, speak Yiddish and refrain from turning on electricity or driving cars on the Sabbath. ...

However, both groups use one modern amenity — cell phones that kept ringing as they wandered through Crown Heights. And the Hasids ironically operate the famed B&H electronics retail store in Manhattan that serves customers from around the world. [What is ironic about this, I have no idea.] ...

The groups also toured a Jewish library and a "matzo factory," where round, unleavened bread was being made for the Passover holiday.

There, a cross-cultural misunderstanding caused one of the Jewish men to look at the Amish, and ask, repeatedly, "Are you from Usbekhistan?"

An Amish man, also confused, asked, "Afghanistan?"

Finally, as they were leaving, another Amish man announced to the matzo-makers: "We're from Lancaster County, Pennsylvania!"

The whole article presents Chabad, the community that brings to the world the essence of the primordial thought Hashem had before creating this world, as a lemming colony described in a National Geographic issue. Good job. Perhaps Rabbi Beryl Epstein would be better off by helping his wife clean the house for Peisach.

Update: I get it. This was an April Fool joke. Wow. Got me.

Ashreinu indeed

Science is fun, but weddings are more fun. At least to some.