By the Grace of G-d
Dear Friend,
‘What was your favorite part of the Kinus conference’?
I have been asked that question by many.
It is truly a hard question to answer…
There were so many highlights and special moments. Sleep was hard to come by as the Fear Of Missing Out (FOMO) was not just a phobia. With five thousand likeminded colleagues and friends in a ten-block radius there was bound to be action around the clock.
In my dear parents home on Eastern Parkway the action was nonstop thank G-d. There were ‘kugel summits’ and ‘coffee and cake summits’ with our parents around the kitchen table. For my brothers, brothers in law and I, there was ‘study and laughter’ in the car on the way to the banquet in New Jersey and good natured teasing about the ‘snoring competition’ taking place nightly in the family basement during those few precious hours we actually slept.
Last Friday I read this post (click on link) by my fellow-Shliach in Calabasas CA !!!
DON'T BELIEVE THIS PHOTO
If there is ever a contest for "World's Most Misunderstood Photo" the annual class photo of the Shluchim (Chabad rabbis) will surely be a finalist.
You know the one I'm talking about? About six thousand Shluchim (G-d bless them) convene in New York every year for an annual conference and Shabbaton and on Sunday morning they pose in front of 770 (Chabad World Headquarters) for a massive group photo. (This year's conference is this weekend.)
When you look at the photo, you could be forgiven for thinking that someone had taken a picture of a Shliach (Chabad rabbi) wearing a black fedora and black suit and then hit copy and paste 6,000 times. Aside from the beard colors (black, white, gray and red) very little differentiates one rabbi from the next and on the surface it seems like a conformist convention.
And that is exactly what it isn't. It would be an injustice to the Shluchim to believe that they are all the same with identical stories, attitudes or personalities. The beauty in the deluge of black and white is the colorful diversity hidden everywhere in the picture.
You look at one face, you're looking at a prominent community leader, rabbi and spiritual leader to 2,000 people in a large American suburb. Grinning right next to him is the Shliach in a South American village, a man whose only struggle greater than making a living is the struggle to assemble a Minyan so a local can say Kaddish.
Pan over to the next Shliach and find the chief rabbi of a massive European country. He rubs shoulders with billionaires. And next to him - the Shliach to Nowhere, USA. He can't rub together two pennies.
In this one picture you have newlyweds, middle-aged parents, fresh grandparents, and patriarchs of massive families with legions of grandchildren and great-grandchildren, often in the hundreds, kinehora.
The guy with the red beard over there spends most of his time behind bars tending to the desperate needs of local Jewish prisoners. The short, salt-and-pepper beard behind him started off as a local youth director at the age of 23 and is still at it, devoted to his third generation of kids 30 years later. (And that short beard is rolled up; it's two feet long. I've seen it!)
Scroll down to that guy there with the black beard. Ten years ago, this guy didn't know what a Mezuzah was. He was the starting quarterback on his high school varsity team and his chances of ending up a Shliach were as good as his chances of ending up starting for the Cowboys. But here he is, flush with excitement, living the dream (the Shliach one, not the Cowboys one.) The very tall one next to him was a successful business attorney who yearned to do more, so he traded in his law practice for a campus Chabad post. He admits that his 401(k) is poorer but that his life is much richer.
And just above him, with the silky white beard, is the rabbi's rabbi, an expert in Jewish law, a genius of enormous proportions, a man with miles of Torah on the tip of his tongue and a heart of gold in his chest. Just one of the guys.
That one over there brought Tefillin to Sandy Koufax. That one put Tefillin on Sid Caesar. That one put Tefillin on the president of Ukraine. That one put on Tefillin with Bob Dylan. That one put on Tefillin in Auschwitz. That one sent Tefillin into space with Ilan Ramon. The serious-looking one there put on Tefillin with virtually every Jewish man in his city. (And don't let the look fool you - he's one of the funniest men in the group.)
This guy here grew up in a mansion in Missouri and he's a beloved spiritual mentor to Yeshiva students. The guy talking to him grew up in a matchbox in Michigan and he's growing a community in Colorado.
This Italian here runs Chabad in Utah; the Italian there runs Russia; and yet another Italian runs Sweden. That Russian runs Texas. This Israeli runs Alabama. That Brazilian runs New Jersey. This Australian runs Georgia. And of course, these boys from Brooklyn are running Nevada, Montana, Louisiana, and Nebraska. And Germany. And Ghana.
This tall one saves lost backpackers in Thailand. That short one saves lost souls in Nepal. The gray-bearded one lives 5,500 miles away in Siberia and he's laughing with his old friend who lives three miles away in Flatbush.
Some of them have encountered astonishing success, like in Paris, where half the Shluchim were inspired to Jewish observance by the other half. And some of these men have encountered astonishing resistance, like the man who has loyally served an American Jewish community for twenty years and still needs to argue with the locals about the importance of Yom Kippur.
This shy scholar here? He is in the midst of a $20 million building campaign. The charismatic gentlemen listening to him is in the midst of a $300,000 foreclosure. The thin man next to him just opened a Glatt Kosher restaurant in Mexico, just like the guy behind him who just opened a Kosher eatery in China. But the rabbi behind them, serving the Russian hinterlands, hasn't seen a Kosher restaurant since last year's conference and has been slaughtering and koshering his own meat for fifteen years.
The rabbi in the corner is part of a family that has been Chabad since Chabad began 230 years ago. His classmate and colleague embracing him is the child of two ex-hippies who searched their way to Chabad in the 60's and reversed four generations of assimilation.
Most of these men speak Yiddish, Hebrew and some English. But if you listen closely you can hear the conversations accented by countless languages and dialects. Most of these men are of Ashkenazic background, but many are Sefardic, some are Yemenite, some are Persian. Many are fourth or fifth generation Americans.
Some are natural extroverts, some are painful introverts. Some are born optimists. Others struggle to maintain their optimism. Some are naturally exuberant; others, melancholy.
The differences never end. Each and every person in this photo is genuinely unique and each of them has a one-of-a-kind story that will yet be told.
But what they have in common is so powerful that it unites them together like a family. Their love for the Rebbe spills over into a love for each other and a love for every single Jew. Their love for the Rebbe's mission and vision of a world conquered by goodness, kindness and Yiddishkeit unites them like brothers around a singular, unstoppable sense of purpose.
Drenched in that family vibe, all the colorful languages, backgrounds, upbringings, personalities and living conditions blend together brilliantly. They produce a spiritual harmony the likes of which has never been seen before.
Shabbat Shalom, good Shabbos.
Rabbi Eli Friedman
Chabad of Calabasas
I was touched and inspired by his words. It helped me choose my most poignant moment of this year’s Kinus.
The picture!
But here is the thing, I actually MISSED the picture.
The picture was taken in front of Lubavitch World Headquarters 770 Eastern Parkway, on Sunday morning 9 am.
I had decided to pay an additional visit to the Rebbe’s Ohel for prayer.
(My ‘main’ visit to the Ohel was on Friday morning. As part of the schedule of the conference I had joined the thousands of Shluchim to pray together for our families, supporters and respective communities (if you get this message you are one of those I prayed for…). It is always the most sacred and holy part of the weekend).
But that visit was not enough for me. Living so far away, I took advantage of the proximity and visited the Ohel several other times. Knowing that the picture was at 9am I made sure to finish my prayers and head back off to Brooklyn with just enough time to arrive at the picture.
Arrive in time I did. The people that I gave a lift home, jumped out of the car and got into position for the picture. I kept my eyes open for parking.
A perfect parking spot opened up. Three cars in front of me. Problem was that that the second car in front of me indicated with his blinker and proceeded to parallel part in ‘my’ spot.
I saw a sticker saying ‘Honda of Wesport’ on the back of the car. My brother Yehuda is the rabbi of Chabad of Westport (CT) and I wondered if perhaps it was him. Yep, as I drove by that perfect parking spot, I saw that it was my brother who got it.
He made it into the picture. I continued to circle around the block looking for parking. I didn’t make it into the picture. So, my brothers all decided to make another picture just for the Kantor brothers (see below). At least it would make our parents happy.
Brothers.
Brotherly Love.
One brother should rejoice in the success of his brother. Even if it means that he is not successful. After all they are all children of one father.
When you lose a parking spot to a brother whom you love and care for, you haven’t really lost anything. It’s still ‘in the family’. If I would have got the spot and he would have needed to go around the block, he would have missed out. I was thankful that he made it into the picture.
It doesn’t always work that way though.
This week’s parsha describes the rift between Yaakov and Esav that stretches throughout history and will only be resolved when Mashiach comes.
The fight between them was an almost unavoidable one. It represents the struggle between the intensely powerful chaotic and unchanneled raw energy of Esav vs the refined, serene, bright and holy energy of Yaakov. Esav had a great potential. It needs to be harnessed and developed to be able to be useful. That will be recognized and appreciated when Mashiach comes. Until then, Esav will oppose Yaakov (as we are witness to, with the continual anti-Semitism we face).
Yaakov goes on to father twelve sons who are the progenitors of the people of Israel (Yisrael being the second name of Yaakov). It is Yaakov’s descendants, us, who will bring the world to the advent of Mashiach.
Ever since that irreparable rift between those two archetypal brothers, Esav and Yaakov, we, the children of Yaakov are expected to have only deep love and respect for our siblings. No irreparable rifts G-d forbid.
Not because we are all the same.
I have included the picture of my four brothers and I. All of us are Shluchim thank G-d. Each of us in quite a different place and situation.
Brother Yehuda is the ebullient head of Chabad of Westport Brother Zalman is a scholarly head of Chabad of Rancho S. Margarita Southern California. Brother Baruch is the lively ‘redhead’ head of Chabad of Temple University in Philadelphia. Youngest brother Yaakov is the intense yet hilarious director of Chabad of Lugano. He is the only member of our family besides me, to live outside of the USA.
Me? I am in Thailand. Totally different than any of the above places.
Brothers come from the same parents. Yet, they are not exactly the same. The Torah expects them to get along. To appreciate and enjoy each other. Not despite their differences. Rather the differences between us are what make it so exciting.
In a sense, the five thousand of us who gathered last week are brothers. It was exhilarating to realize that.
And if you take that just one small step further, all of our people, Am Yisrael in its entirety is ONE people. Brothers and sisters.
We are not Esav and Yaakov who get ripped apart till the end of times.
We are all the ‘people of Israel’, sons and daughters of Avraham, Yitschok and Yaakov. Sara, Rivka, Rachel and Leah who stick together through thick and thin. We have lived through nearly two thousand years of exile. We have come through inquisitions, the Crusades and the Holocaust. We are one undivided people.
When one of us succeeds we ought to all rejoice.
When G-d forbid one of us has not such good news we must all rally to his or her support. Like we should and would do for an immediate sibling.
Next time you lose your parking spot, or the ten million dollar order to your manufacturing company, pray that it is your brother who got it. If he did? Rejoice!
It takes a spirit of largesse to rejoice when your friend succeeds more than you. Once you realize it is YOUR OWN FAMILY, you should have a much easier time with it.
Shabbat Shalom Sister, Shabbat Shalom Brother!
Rabbi Yosef Kantor
PS Yesterday was the Yartzeit of Rabbi & Mrs. Gavriel & Rivka Holtzberg who were murdered al Kidush Hashem in their Chabad House in Mumbai eleven years ago.
Tomorrow is the bar mitzvah of their miraculously surviving son Moshe. I will be attending the Bar Mitzvah celebration in Israel on Sunday please G-d.