I recently had the privilege of attending a regional conference of Chabad Rabbis in Portland, Oregon. Rabbis from cities throughout the West converged on the “Rose City” for a weekend of dovening, learning, inspirational discussion and Rebbetzin Wilhelm’s world-class cooking!
I have dovened regularly each morning, afternoon and evening for almost three years. But never and I mean never, had I seen dovening like this. The energy, joy, excitement and love that filled the Chabad of Portland Shul was unbelievable! These “Men In Black” rocked the house!
The volume grew louder and louder as we welcomed in the Shabbos. We rattled the rafters when we sang La Ha Dodi. When the last note of the song reverberated off the walls, everyone shot from their chairs and started dancing around the room until I thought we’d drop from fatigue. But tired we never got. We sang, we danced, we dovened with a kind of passion I had never dreamed possible.
This was Shabbos! This was what it was suppose to be like! This was Jewish life as it was intended to be! These fifteen proud, Jewish men showed us the absolute joy that still exists within the observant Jewish community. They showed us that Shabbos isn’t about the things you can’t do. It’s not about restrictions on driving, turning on lights or cooking food. On the contrary, it’s really about putting the pressures of the world away for a few hours, thanking the G-d who loves you for his blessings, eating wonderful food, saying l’chaim with friends, celebrating the Jewish experience and recharging your Neshoma, your soul.
During the course of the weekend I had a unique opportunity to really get to know a number of these remarkable men. Don’t let the black suits, classically cut hats and long beards fool you. They are as different from one another as snowflakes in a snowstorm.
Yet they all share a similar passion for the men, women and children of the Jewish communities they serve. Each and every one of them has dedicated their lives to the advancement of Jewish learning at far off places around the globe. Whether they live in Wilmington, Delaware, Salt Lake City, Utah, Anchorage, Alaska, Shanghai, China, Kostrama, Russia or Portland, Oregon, they all share a common goal. They promote Yiddishkeit to Jewish men, women and children, who for whatever reason, have drifted away from the faith of their fathers, grandfathers and great grand fathers.
At a young age they willingly leave the cozy confines of their Yeshiva’s and journey out to places unknown. They are charged with the responsibility of setting up “shop” many miles from traditional centers of Jewish learning. Sometimes they are the first Rabbis to set foot in a city, state and/or country. Imagine what it must be like to move to Alaska, a place where there are more Moose than there are Jews. How does one find Kosher food, let alone a Minion for Shabbos. But somehow, someway they find a means to make it happen.
What’s even more amazing is these Rabbis receive no support from their “headquarters” in New York. Most people think, they move to a community, set up shop and receive a monthly check from the “corporate treasurer.” Nothing could be further from the truth. The fact is they move to places unknown, with a few names and telephone numbers, and more passion than dollars in their pockets. But somehow they find a way to make the miracle happen. Thanks to the generous support of others, they are able to continue their selfless work. Big checks, small checks, a dollar here, a hundred there, somehow the funds trickle in. Nothing detours these amazing men from their mission. Many times they don’t know how they are going to pay the mortgage next month. “Hashem will provide” is usually the answer. Never have so few made so much, with so little.
Local Shabbos services suddenly spring up where none existed before. Kosher food “miraculously” begins to appear on local supermarket shelves where none previously existed. Purim festivals, Log Bomer picnics, Pesach Seders, distinctive Sukkas, rousing Simchas Torah celebrations, all spring up as the fertile ground of the Jewish community is plowed by the dedicated men and women of Chabad.
Before discovering Chabad I couldn’t fathom the depth and the breadth of my people, my heritage and my religion. Dovening everyday, putting on Teffilin in the morning, studying Torah, going to Shul on Shabbos, building a Sukkah, dancing with the Torah on Simchas Torah, attending a traditional Bar Mitzvah, finding inner peace and joy. These are the treasures and dividends one discovers through Chabad.
These Chabad Rabbis, they’re not your grand parent’s Rabbis. With all due respect to that generation, these Rabbis are different. They welcome Jewish men and women with open, loving, undemanding spiritual arms. If you want to become a Torah scholar, then you’ve come to the right place. They’ll hook you up. But if you never learned to read Hebrew and you just want to taste a Kugel like your great grandmother use to make, then there’s a place for you at Chabad as well.
It’s a place where all Jews are welcome. There are no demands, no expectations and no competition. No one looks down on you for what you don’t know. If you don’t know how to doven, they patiently show you how to maneuver through the Siddur. If you don’t know how to put on a Tallit, they willingly demonstrate how to put it on and help you read the appropriate blessings. If you’ve never made Kiddush on Shabbos and want to learn, they will teach you and then help you make the blessing at their Shabbos table. If you want to put on Teffilin, they will find you a pair, show you how to put them on your arm and head and help you recite the blessings. You dictate what you want to learn and when you want to learn it. If you are willing to learn, they are willing to teach. Unconditional love and affection is the norm.
If I seem to be over zealous in my praise of Chabad, then I am guilty as charged. I had a Bar Mitzvah when I was thirteen and on occasion, attended Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur services. But that was the extent of my Jewish experience. Then three years ago I realized that money and a flourishing career just weren’t enough anymore. I had a nagging, aching pain in my heart, that no amount of personal success could repair. Yoga didn’t ease the pain. Meditating didn’t fill the void. Jogging endorphins didn’t anesthetize the hurt. I was an unhappy 41-year-old man. Something was missing from my life. I was drowning in a sea of despair.
And then Chabad of Delaware’s Rabbi Vogel threw me a spiritual live preserver, literally saving my life. He served as my guide through a personal journey that has taken me to places I never dreamed possible. And throughout the journey, never once did he ask me for anything in return. He selflessly gave of himself and his family.
How do you thank a person and an organization that saves your life? You tell the world that’s how. You tell everyone and anyone who will listen that there is a group of dedicated men and women out there who will help you rediscover your heritage, your people and the G-d who loves you. No matter how difficult life can get, there will always be a brighter tomorrow as long as Chabad exists. Help light the flame of Yiddishkeit. Call you local Chabad Rabbi and take the first step on what will be one of the most exciting and gratifying journeys of your life!
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