One Small Mitzvah

How One Small Mitzvah Turned My Life Around

As told to Rachel Stein

Encased in a silicone cover, the small mezuzah on the doorway to our apartment winks at me, and I smile in wonder and gratitude. G‑d, we are in the process of coming closer, and You are holding us in Your embrace as we struggle to persevere. Our journey, long, convoluted, and not yet complete, shines with fresh promise and hope where before there was only darkness. Yes, little mezuzah, if you could speak, what a story you would tell . . .

As a single mother, my life has not been easy. But raising my daughter Jessica was like walking through a sun-drenched park; she was blessed with many gifts. Brilliant, beautiful, athletic, a talented dancer, Jess was destined to achieve great things in life. She had two goals: joining the U.S. Marine Corps andAs a single mother, life has not been easy hospitality management. Filled with a sense of patriotism and a desire to paint the world in bright, vibrant colors, Jessica set out to make her mark. She attended Texas A&M University, began formal Marine Corps training, and joined the Hillel. Her second year at Texas A&M, Chabad arrived. Appreciating their more traditional approach, Jessica joined them and began practicing Judaism in a way she never had while growing up. Although we hadn’t lived an observant lifestyle, I had succeeded in transmitting a pride in our Jewish identity.

Although Jessica was clear about the direction she was headed, behind the scenes, G‑d was preparing a detour with a totally different destination in mind. Along the way, He sowed another seed of kindness by forging a close bond between Jessica and the Chabad rebbetzin, a bond that would give her tremendous strength in her time of need.

On the heels of Hurricane Rita (only one month after Hurricane Katrina), a different storm blew into our lives when Jessica suddenly needed emergency gallbladder surgery. Her recuperation proceeded smoothly, and the tempest calmed, until spring breezed in, and Jessica caught a bug, never clearly diagnosed. She felt “flu-like.” Our tragedy is that she never recovered. Debilitating fatigue evolved into devastating pain attacks. Eventually, the pain ebbed and flowed and sometimes attacked viciously, but never went away. My blossoming daughter, nourishing rich dreams and goals at the cusp of adulthood, transitioned from independence to dependence, from highly intelligent to confused and sometimes mentally paralyzed, from joyful anticipation of her interactions with people and the world to fearful isolation, afraid of fainting or having a severe pain attack in public. Within two years of the onset of her illness, she had lost two inches of height, shrinking from 5'3" to 5'1".

After enduring the gamut of medical tests, Jessica was finally diagnosed with CFIDS/ME (Chronic Fatigue Immune Deficiency Syndrome/Myalgic Encephalomyelitis), disabling fibromyalgia, and POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome), yet the only test that showed a significant abnormal result was the tilt table test, revealing major anomalies in her blood pressure.

As anyone who suffers from these types of illnesses that are not neatly documented (known as ICIs, Invisible Chronic Illnesses) knows, the medical world can be condescending and sometimes cruel. “It’s all in your head” and “You don’t look sick” were oft-repeated refrains, exacerbating the actual suffering from the disease. Jessica’s blood work came back normal, so the doctors shrugged and insisted that she see a psychologist or psychiatrist, even suggesting that she might be bipolar.

I railed at the injustice. My independent, competent, energetic daughter was fading, and I was helpless to fix the situation for her. Over a period of eight years, our lives became more difficult, isolated, and depressing, her pain relentlessly worsening. To top off an abysmal situation, I went bankrupt while caring for her, and I myself became sick due to the stress in our life. Each morning when I awoke, my first thought was, “How many days before my daughter and I are homeless on the streets?”

JessicaShe kept trying to return to school kept trying to return to school and wound up dropping out four times. She would take a semester off and then rally, attempting to return to her full schedule.

“I don’t want to live this way,” she cried to me. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

This was one of my lowest moments. I couldn’t stand watching my child suffer like this. But the next day, she rebounded.

“I don’t want to die, but it seems like my life has no purpose,” she lamented. I held her close, our tears mingling together in a warm stream.

A year later, she helped save the life of a young female athlete. While she was working with kids who were training to be long distance runners, she immediately recognized signs of dehydration in one of them. “She’ll be fine,” the other trainers said. “She just needs to sit for a few minutes.”

“No,” Jessica insisted, taking in Amanda’s pasty complexion and irregular breathing. “She needs to be hospitalized immediately.”

The doctors told Jess that Amanda was dangerously dehydrated, and that her quick response had saved Amanda’s life. Jess confided to me later, “Perhaps it’s so that Amanda will be able to do what I cannot, that I became ill.” That young woman will graduate from the U.S. Naval Academy next year.

There was always a vibrant Jewish spark in Jessica. As a teenager, she sometimes attended synagogue together with some friends and said that “being a Jew defines her.” Since she was forced to relocate back to New York, and knowing how she missed the spiritual support she had gotten from Chabad in Texas, I helped Jessica get to Shofar in the Park, an event where hundreds or even thousands show up in a park on the first day of Rosh Hashanah to hear the shofar’s call. Jews of every stripe converge for this annual experience, and we found it very uplifting.

“Would you join us for a holiday meal?” asked a smiling rabbi who had been answering some questions we had. This was one of the rabbis of Chabad of the Upper West Side, and we began joining his family and other guests several Friday nights a month. What a blessing! Here was the sense of family and community we had been missing. And within weeks, I had a mezuzah for the first time with which to adorn the door of my home. Rabbi Alevsky assured me that good things were in store for us.

And then, little by little, things started to improve.

Jessica started receiving her disability check, which we had fought for in court. This gave us some financial breathing room, and I was able to enroll in a coaching program, which reminded me of my strengths and helped me professionally and psychologically. I felt G‑d smiling at me and encouraging me in this endeavor. Casting my eyes heavenward, I saw the thick clouds part, allowing shafts of light to penetrate our lives.

As fall became winter, work began to pick up. And miracle of miracles, 40 years after graduating college, I became a New York-certified teacher, including a certification for teaching children with disabilities. In the words of my master coach, “It is entirely fashionable to reinvent yourself close to retirement age.” Fashionable? How beautiful! Convinced throughout my life that I was a financial failure, I learned to reframe my situation in a way that boosted and encouraged my spirit.

With the warming return of the spring, an old client offered to send me to California to do computer training in their office. At the same time, a friend told me about a small clinic that provides treatment for systemic metabolic disorders. So Jessica and I flew off to California together. She had an almost miraculous response to the treatment, so she stayed in California to continue the regimen, and an ember of hope ignited. Several miracles blazed into our lives. A friend gave us the money for Jessica’s initial round of treatments in California.She had an almost miraculous response to the treatment Another old friend offered us the use of her apartment and gave me cash to help cover some of the cost of trip. And on my return to New York, I obtained enough work so that I now had enough money to pay for her treatments not covered by insurance.

Lifting a hand to touch my mezuzah every time I enter or leave my apartment, I am reminded that the dots are connected by a great, heavenly hand that is always there if we only open our hearts to sense its presence. I have grown through walking this journey, learning that there is meaning and purpose in everything, even if it’s veiled and we can’t comprehend the significance. My cries of despair have made way for rekindled hope. Jessica may yet recover, and yearns to give of the knowledge and experience that she has gleaned throughout her illness. She is nurturing dreams again, hoping to help veterans with PTSD and at-risk children. Often, once we unlock our hearts to entreat G‑d and the doorway has opened, the vehicle for blessing is actualized. Little mezuzah, you have witnessed the story that happened within these walls. A story of faith, courage and reliance on the One above.

Rosh Chodesh Kislev!

Which Part Are You Of?

Weekly Story: To Which Part Are You Part Of?

by Rabbi Sholom Avtzon

The following is a story/thought that I heard last week in one of the many farbrengens that was going on in conjunction to the Kimus Hashluchim.

As is known, after the Frierdiker Rebbe left Russia, he first settled in Riga, Latvia and some years later resettled in Poland. The following happened when he was in Latvia.

Two chassidim from the same town were able to travel to visit him in Latvia. When the first one was in his room for a yechidus. After answering the persons questions and giving him a brocha for success,the Rebbe began questioning about the .level of Jewish observance.

the person answered, Boruch Hashem, we have a minyan, which is well attended and there is a shiur chassidus in the morning before davennin. the majority of the Jews in the city are not chassidim, however, they are eager to hear a thought of Chassidus. There is alot of work to be done, but we are making progress.

hearing this, the frierdiker Rebbe, took a few rubles and gave it to the chossid and asked him to let him be part oh this wonderful work.

When he came out of the Yechidus room, he met his friend and related that he received a few dollars because of what he said to the Rebbe. the friend replied, You whitewashed the truth, if you would have said the truth, the Rebbe would have given you much more.

sure enough, the same thing repeated when he entered the Rebbe’s room for his yechidus. After answering his questions, the Rebbe asked him about what is happening in their city.

The person relied, Our city is not similar to the chassidishe towns in Russa, in fact the people that want to run away from that lifestyle, are the individuals that settle in our city and environs. We have museums, and operas and bars etc. it is not a good place.to raise a chassidishe child. Yes there is a mimyan, but it is visited by only a small part of the community.

The Rebbe thanked him for his report, however, for whatever reason didn’t give the second person any thing. No money, no nothing!

The person was surprised and verbalized his astonishment to the Rebbe. He said, “How come when my friend painted a rosy picture, the Rebbe gave him money. But when I told the Rebbe the truth, the Rebbe didn’t give me anything?”

The Frierdiker Rebbe replied, Do you think i needed you to inform me about what is happening in your city? I know exactly what is happening in your city as well as the many other cities in Russia. However i want to know where are you? To which part of the city are you part of?

Saying this the shliach paused for a moment to let the message seep in.

Yes there is a kinus going on, tremendous positive things are happening in Lubavitch. However, there maybe some things that can have improvment. The question is Where is your focus and to which part of Lubavitch are you connected to?

This Is Funny.

GRANDPARENT'S ANSWERING MACHINE  

Good morning. . . . At present we are not at home but, please leave your message after you hear the beep. beeeeeppp ... 

If you are one of our   children, press 1 

If you need us to stay with the children, press 2 

If you want to borrow the car, press 3 

If you want us to wash your clothes and do ironing, press 4

If you want the grandchildren to sleep here tonight, press 5 

If you want us to pick up the kids at school, press 6 

If you want us to prepare a meal for Sunday or to have it delivered  to your home, press 7  

If you want to come to eat here, press 8 

If you need money, press 9 (for each $ requested) 

If you are going to invite us to dinner, or bring-over a freshly baked cheese cake or a cherry pie     start talking we are listening !!!!!!!!!!!"

Nice Story

Shabbos Table Story

Shared by Rabbi Levi Wolf,

The story is of a young boy in the Hungarian city of Szeged, home to a large Jewish community that followed the paths of wisdom and Torah. 

The boy received religious education but following the Nazi invasion in 1944 was uprooted from his family and his studies and thrown to the fire with the other residents of the city. 

He managed to survive, and upon returning to his hometown, rebelled against G-d’s divine ruling of the world and turned against his original beliefs. 

He migrated to Israel, studied philosophy and became a professor—first in Australia and later on back in the Holy Land. Throughout these years, he was vocal about his anti-religion and particularly anti-Jewish opinion. 

Since he was well versed in Jewish texts, he relied on selected Jewish sources to demonstrate that Judaism is a faulty faith, with no truth to it. He even wrote a book, published in Hebrew and English, arguing that Judaism is a ‘theocracy’—the rule of religious elites, opposed to moral values, to the ideas of social equality and to the spirit of free people.

In old age, the professor became ill with cancer. I visited him at his home, with a few other friends. At one moment he pulled me aside, close to his library and told me, that several years earlier he had written the Rabbi of Lubavitch a severe letter, in sharp tongue, expressing harsh arguments towards G-d and his believers. 

He told me that, to his surprise, he received a reply from the Rabbi, written in his own handwriting! 

He took a certain book from a shelf, from which he pulled a piece of handwritten paper, signed by Menachem Mendel Schneerson. 

With great excitement, he asked me to read the letter. I do not recall the exact words, but the structure and contents I clearly remember: first the rabbi thanked the writer for his letter, addressing him in the plural form. 

Then, the Rabbi asked his permission to inquire after his origin: does your surname not indicate that you are of some Lithuanian origin, of this and that family? Or does it rather imply that you are among the Vizhnitz followers from Hungary? Then he finished with some congratulations and signed his name. 

The professor looked at me with hands slightly trembling. I remember his question very well and quote it from memory: “Do you get what he did to me? Do you see how he reproached me"? 

With these subtle questions, the Rabbi reminded him that he comes from a royal background and a glorious past, and although he has difficult questions etc., he shouldn't allow himself to turn his back on his roots and the people he comes from. 

After he read the letter to me he carefully put the letter back inside the book. I think I may have been the only person to whom he has ever shown the letter, and I do not know where that letter is today. 

The professor passed away several months later. 

I do not believe it is a coincidence that I received this story just before this Shabbat, Parashat תולדות. It truly speaks to the essence of the very first verse in our Parasha where we find words that seem somewhat repetitive:

    ואלה תולדת יצחק בן אברהם  (and these are the descendants of Isaac the son of Abreham) and than the verse continues אברהם הוליד את יצחק (Abreham gave birth to Isaac).

I have a strong sense that these two statements, speak to us about very different issues.  

One speaks to the Jewish genealogist, the one interested in knowing what Abreham's family tree looked like, Abreham the verse tells us, is the one who had a child named Yitzchak.

However, the words  יצחק בן אברהם engages the Jewish parent. Many parents have had experience with a child struggling with questions, often existential, highlighting doubts concerning beliefs and values pertaining to their Jewish family and heritage. 

So how should a parent respond to his or her questioning child?

I think the Rebbe’s letter in the above story demonstrates that arguing with a person who is genuinely struggling by listing the ‘right’ answers, might win us the debate, but will not win us back what is most precious - their Soul! 

The Rebbe gently reminded the professor who he really is.You are a prince! You are יצחק the son of the great אברהם! 

And with reminding our children of their glories past, hopefully we can empower them with the opportunity to treasure their Yiddishkeit, even at times when there may be an internal dialogue that is conflicted and exhausting!

Within these moments, they will be mindful of their rich ancestry and the palpable and direct link to their loving father in heaven who has and will continue to look after each of us, now and always! 

With warm regards and blessings, 

Levi

Rebbe's Dollar!!

Nov 12, 2015

It All Started With A Dollar

Chaya M. Klein tells of her family's experience with a family from Israel after giving them a "Rebbe Dollar" just when they needed it.

Written by Chaya M. Klein as told to her by her husband Moshe Klein, owner of Little People's Clothing Store on Kingston Avenue

It was early summer 5775 (2015) when a young woman, in t-shirt and leggings walked into my store. Not sure who she was, I looked at her face expectantly.

She spoke in Hebrew and explained that she was visiting New York from Eretz Yisroel on the occasion of her son’s Bar Mitzvah. She had come with her husband, son and young daughter to visit the Rebbe at this auspicious time.

She concluded her business in my store with a sigh and a solemn expression, and then, in a voice filled with desperate emotion, she asked if I knew where she could buy a “Rebbe Dollar.”

“I really need to have a Rebbe Dollar,” she said anxiously, “I have been here for the past two weeks and can find no one willing to sell me one, my husband has been asking in 770 and cannot find one either!”

I looked at her face, felt her emotion, and somehow, she touched something deep inside of me. I told her, “Just a moment”, and ran down to take out a pile of personal “Rebbe Dollars” that I had received over the years.

The one on the top of the pile looked a bit stained, from the metal clip holding them together, so I reached into the pile and slipped out a dollar from the middle.

Looking at it, I noticed that I had written Chanukah 5735 in small letters across the top edge of the dollar, indicating when I had received it.

Running back upstairs, I presented the dollar to her, telling her it was a gift. She reverently took the dollar, gazing at it in awe. Tears fell onto her cheeks as she softly said, “This is the year of my birth! 5735! Thank you! Thank you! You cannot know what this means to me!!” She explained that her daughter has some health issues, and she felt that having a Rebbe dollar for her would bring her blessings. She wanted to pay for the precious dollar. I reassured her that it was a gift. I could not take money for this dollar for I deeply felt that I had been holding this dollar, which the Rebbe had put directly into my hand, for forty years, expressly so I could give it to this young woman, at this time! I had merely been keeping it safe for her!

She left my store, thanking me over and over again. A few minutes later, she ran back in to tell me that she wanted to make a new resolution. She would begin lighting the Shabbos candles, and she would cover her hair while doing so! I gently suggested that prior to making the bracho, she could put a few coins into the pushka for Tzedaka. She smiled, gratefully, “Certainly”!

The next day, a man, who had been in my store before to purchase some things because the airlines had lost his families’ luggage, walks into my store, gives me a warm hug and introduces himself as her husband! He shakes my hand warmly and says: “You cannot imagine what you have done for my wife!! For our family!! Please let me tell you a bit about myself.”

He told me that he works as a driver for Egged Bus Service in Eretz Yisroel. He has his specific route and one day, fourteen years ago, while driving his route, a suicide bomber drove into his bus and exploded! Body parts, mingled with car parts, were flying all around. Miraculously, not one person on his bus was killed! Some injuries were sustained, but nothing more, Boruch Hashem.

Shaken up, he decided to evaluate his life and his connection to Torah and Yiddishkeit. He began to touch base with a shliach, and began to learn a bit about who he was, as a Yid.

His resolve to come even closer to Yiddishkeit was strengthened, when one year later, to the day of the bombing, his son, his first child was born, in the seventh month – premature, but healthy and strong, Boruch Hashem.

He decided to write into the Igros Kodesh to find guidance on his path and the letter he opened to said: “Mikvah and Taharas Hamishpacha”!

He spoke to his wife, who said, no book was going to tell her how to conduct her personal life!

He wrote into the Igros again and received the exact same message, “Mikvah and Taharas Hamishpacha.”

Still unable to convince his wife, he suggested that she, too, write into the Igros, in her own words, selecting her own volume of letters. So she did. She too received “Mikvah and Taharas Hamishpacha” as a reply! She still did not want to accept what she was seeing. So her husband told her write again, to a different volume of the Igros Kodesh. The second letter she submitted yielded the same response: “Mikvah and Taharas Hamishpacha”!

He decided to take this all a step further and build a mikvah in his own home! He wrote into the Igros Kodesh and received the following answer (loose translation):

“…it is a good idea…and the proof is that when it will be completed, you will have rain water…”

He went on to build the mikvah and completed it in the month of Tammuz, in Eretz Yisroel. It is common knowledge that it rarely rains during the summer in Eretz Yisroel, yet rain it did! Filling the bor geshomim with precious rain water, preparing it for use!

He continued his story, telling me that his wife remained resistant to further observance, but when she received the Rebbe Dollar, her whole attitude made an abrupt turnaround! She now wanted to light Shabbos candles, and more!

As he continued speaking, he mentioned that he was going home and would be visiting his grandparents’ kevorim as there was a yartzheit coming up. Asking him where they are resting, I was astounded to discover they are buried a block away from my own parents, a”h, in the same Bais HaChaim, in a nearby section!

Hashgacha protis again reveals itself! I asked if I might ask him a small favor? Would he be able, when he visits his own relatives, to stop a moment by my parents and say a kapitel Tehillim?

He solemnly took my hand in his and said: “As long as I am alive, when I visit my family, I will visit your parents as well. I will say Tehillim and light a candle too!”
Deeply touched, I thanked him, and after a bit, we said good-bye.

Not long after all of this, we received a What’s App video of them visiting my parents!

Late one Motzoei Shabbos in Tishrei, we received a call from them informing us that they had visited my parents kevorim again, where they lit a candle and said Tehillim. As an aside, they told us that they have decided to take on more observance of Shabbos. Not just lighting the Shabbos candles, but actually keeping Shabbos!

We continue to keep in touch…May the mitzvos keep on coming and growing for each of us…and it all started with a dollar!

Dating Your Spouse! How To Do It Right!

Date Night

I try to do our date night on a Moitzay shabbos it is a great time since we are still in happy relaxed mode and haven't 

Started the week yet with all those commitments!

Make sure you're getting the most out of spending quality time together

Date night: how to do it right

Date nights are really important for every romantic relationship, no matter what stage: new, familiar, strained or decades old. They're great for being able to reconnect you as a romantic couple and become focused on being together. This comes very naturally in the beginning of a relationship, as you strive to discover one another and work out your common interests and passions. As time goes on, though, the temptation becomes to use time alone to have heavy discussions, or some couples get in the pattern of skipping date night altogether.

So to make the most of date nights, and really do them right so they are something you both look forward to, make sure you're doing at least the following key things:

1. Make it regular 

That may be once a week or once a month, but if it's regular and not just a "special occasion" then there won't be so much pressure each time to "do it up big" (expensive and fancy) or be ultra super duper romantic. Regular date nights should be a staple of your relationship. And the fancier romantic outings are your more special occasions. Don't let pressure creep into your time alone together.

2. Take turns planning 

Maybe one of you really does like to do something fancy each time, or get dressed in your best, while the other prefers a more casual, relaxed evening together, or even in! If you take turns and balance what each of you enjoys you'll both have your needs met. Also there won't be resentment by one person who does all the planning and booking. Share the responsibility equally for carving connected time out together.

3. Make your dates a phone-free zone 

No electronics, no smartphones, no distractions. Stop for a couple of hours and simply focus on one another. if you feel you need to check on a babysitter, do so once an hour. There's no need to keep your phone at the table. If there's an emergency, you'll hear the phone ring in your purse or pocket. Do not answer business or unimportant calls. Ask yourself: can this wait 60 minutes? The answer is in all likelihood, yes. Your partner is your priority on date nights, period.

4. Keep conversation upbeat and light

You know you can do this, because you did it in the courtship phase of your relationship. Maybe that was last year, or maybe it was more than ten years ago. Either way, we gravitate towards people who make us feel good, with whom we have a great time, who make us laugh, who stimulate our minds, and with whom we have common interests. Don't allow your alone time to be dominated by stressful talk of children's development, finances, work burdens or domestic issues. Instead talk about where you'd like to go for your next holiday, current events, interesting things happening in your neighborhood or with your friends and family. You can even talk about each other and what you enjoy about being in the moment of a date night, then and there. Reinforce how enjoyable it is and how nice it feels to just spend time together.

5. Break patterns and learn new things about each other

Think speed dating is just for singles? Play a game with each other. This is especially good for couples who tend to fall into the trap of talking about negative stressors when alone together, or who can't help but tell endless stories about people the other partner either doesn't like, has never met or doesn't know well. Make the most of this time getting to know each other better. Daydream about the future together. Ask each other where they'd like to be in five years. Brainstorm other great date nights to share together. Play conversation games where you ask each other the most random question you can think of: what was your favourite song in high school and why? What's your greatest fear? Who would you invite to dinner, living or dead? What would be the best place in the world to live? If you had to get up right now and sing a song or dance or make a speech, which would you choose and why? Make a bet on something. Dare each other to do something that night. Be silly. Be thoughtful. Spark together. Often we reserve these kinds of conversations for dinner parties or pub chat. But your time alone deserves lighthearted talk just as much as you each deserve to have fun and always learn more about one another.

Shabbos Guest!

That Last minute Call Before Shabbos!

Wow!!! Powerful Article; Proud To Be Chabad!

The Most Open Orthodoxy of Them All

November 11, 2015, 

N. DANIEL KOROBKIN

My colleagues and friends in the Orthodox rabbinate and beyond have been debating the limits of Orthodox Judaism, based on the recent RCA resolution to ban female rabbis, and based on Agudath Israel’s recent statement defining the movement “Open Orthodoxy” as not Orthodox.

Then, I attended the recent banquet of the Kinnus Shluchim, a gathering of over 5,000 Chabad shluchim and their guests, to offer chizuk and to celebrate the incredible work that these shluchim are doing around the world. The evening was filled with inspiring recollections of the Lubavitcher Rebbe and his unwavering mission of sending his shluchim throughout the world as a way of stemming the tide of assimilation and bringing our Jewish brothers and sisters back into the fold. The shluchim’s courage, their effectiveness in the field, and their untiring perseverance were all extolled over the evening. The speakers and the music were inspiring and emotionally uplifting.

Curiously, not one word was uttered about the granting of semikhah to women. No one talked about whether “Open Orthodoxy” was Orthodox or not. Surprisingly, the only focus of the evening was the holy work that is being done by Chabad-Lubavitch throughout the world in bringing Jews closer to their heritage, whether it be through youth organizations, providing meals to weary travelers at remote locations across the globe, or chance meetings at a gas station to help someone put on tefillin for the first time.

Now, I’m not a Lubavitcher. But sometimes, I wish I was. Sometimes, when I read the seemingly endless debates circulating among my colleagues and friends about the parameters of Orthodox Judaism, I wish that I could snap my fingers and whisk us all to a farbrengen.

I don’t mean to trivialize the endeavors of my colleagues. I know that there’s something important about defining ourselves. It’s about preserving halakhah, our mesorah, and about defining which faith dogma are necessary to count one as part of the Torah community. Ultimately, it’s about making sure that we preserve Orthodoxy faithfully for the next generation.

But maybe there’s a better way to do this. Maybe we could learn from our Lubavitcher brethren, who have never had to struggle about whether or not women can be rabbis, because the Chabad rebbetzins are too busy doing vital work in Mumbai, Nepal, and Nebraska. Maybe they haven’t found a need to compose resolutions that recapitulate the religious principles of Lubavitch chassidus, because those principles are as clear as day to those shluchim who live and breathe those dictates.

Maybe the key to Chabad’s success is that they live their faith every day by touching the lives of their fellow Jews. Maybe if we “mainstream Orthodox” leaders focused more on how we can stem the tide of assimilation, how we can redouble our efforts at making Orthodoxy attractive to secular Jews, and about how we can fulfill the mitzvah of Ahavas Yisrael, maybe then all these discussions and resolutions would seem a bit moot.

I’m just a regular pulpit rabbi out in the field, and so perhaps I’m not as ideologically driven as some of my other colleagues. But this much I do know: I’ve been banging my head for years to try and make Orthodox Judaism more open, accepting and non-judgmental, so that non-Orthodox Jews who walk into my shul or meet me for the first time would not feel intimidated or fearful that they might not be accepted. So forgive me if I find that all these definitions of who’s “in” and who’s “out” somewhat counter-productive to that mission.

To be sure, the Chabad community is not perfect. It suffers from many of the same social ills that can be found in other Orthodox communities, be they modern, yeshivish or chassidish. But because the Lubavitcher Rebbe’s message was always about the greatness within each and every Jew, and the need for each of us to reach out to his or her brother and sister and remind them of their greatness, it seems to this outsider that this is a more effective way of repairing the breaches within Orthodoxy today.

That’s why I’ll be steering clear of the discussions and debates. I’d rather dance like a chassid, even if I can’t be one.

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