Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Twenty Years Post Messiah

OK, my duty is clear: if yesterday we celebrated the twentieth anniversary of the Messiah, don’t you, Devoted Readers, deserve to find out about it?
Anybody who has been to New York, and especially the Crown Heights section in Brooklyn, has seen them: the Hasidic Jews, easily identifiable by the long beards, the black Fedora hats, and the dark clothing. And I knew a bit about the Hasidim, since I had read the work of Chaim Potok, a novelist most famous for his first book, The Chosen.
But what do the Hasidic Jews and the novels of Potok have to do with the Messiah? Well, they are both intricately wound up with this figure, about whom Wikipedia says:
Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson (April 5, 1902 – June 12, 1994), known as the Lubavitcher Rebbe or just the Rebbe,[3] was the most influential rabbi in modern history and most famous rabbi since Maimonides.[4] From 1950 he served as the seventh and last Rebbe (Hasidic leader) of the Chabad-Lubavitch movement.
OK—even if Schneerson wasn’t the Messiah, to be called the most important rabbi since Maimonides is no little feat. Here’s what Wikipedia says about him:
Our Rabbi/Teacher Moses Son [of] Maimon"), was a preeminent medieval Spanish, Sephardic Jewish philosopher, astronomer[5] and one of the most prolific and influential Torah scholars and physicians[6][7][8] of the Middle Ages.
OK—most of us know people who are “assimilated” Jews: men and women who may practice their religion to some extent, but who are essentially indistinguishable from the Methodists or Mormons or just atheists with whom they mix. But the Hasidim are in your face, and they’re intent on preserving a traditional way of life. How traditional? Well, they keep kosher: not eating pork or shellfish—hey, more shrimp for me!—and not mixing meat and dairy products. Women wear wigs or scarves—or both—in public and even in their homes, since, what if there’s a visit? And then there’s the matchmaker, who may have a “database” of hundreds or thousands of names.
True, it’s not quite as it used to be: the boy and girl meet, and sit together until they “feel comfortable.” Then, the marriage takes place quite quickly, with the bride and groom kept apart until the ceremony itself.
Domestic life is guided by 613 rules found in the Torah, and a prime job of the Hasidim is to procreate: eight children is the norm. And like the Mormons, there’s a big push to get out there and proselytize, though only to other Jews. Here’s one writer on the subject:
Lubavitchers (another term for Hasidim) are sent into the street as 13- or 14-year-olds to ask passersby, “Are you Jewish?” For those who say yes, they offer to help put on tefillin, the little wearable black boxes containing prayers, or, depending on the season, give them matzos or Hanukkah menorahs. They, too, may not convince others to become observant, but they are always solidifying their own observance.
So who was this man, the most important rabbi since Maimonides if not the Messiah? Well, he was born in Russia in 1902, the son of a rabbi. After becoming a rabbi himself, he made it to Portugal in 1941, to take one of the last boats out of Europe to the United States. There, he joined his wife’s family: his father-in-law was the rebbe of the Lubavitch community there. And his mission, as Wikipedia states, was:
…to rebuild Jewish life after the devastations of the Holocaust; to reverse the Communist eradication of Judaism in Russia; and to combat widespread assimilation by encouraging Jews to engage more deeply with their faith.
And the rebbe must have succeeded, since he sent 4000 missionaries around the world, reviving Jewish traditions, starting schools and day camps, and getting the fold back to a more faithful practice of the religion.
He knew both the great and powerful; here’s Wikipedia again:
During his years as Rebbe, he was visited by Presidents, Prime Ministers, Governors, Senators, Congressmen and Mayors. Notable among them are prominent American politicians such as John F. Kennedy, Robert Kennedy, Franklin D. Roosevelt, Jr, Ronald Reagan, Jimmy Carter, Jacob Javits, Ed Koch, Rudy Giuliani, David Dinkins and Joe Lieberman.
But he also started, in the year he became the rebbe, the practice of talking to anyone who sought an appointment. The sessions would start at 8 PM on Thursdays and Sundays, and would often go throughout the night. In these meetings, the rebbe would give a dollar to this person who had sought his counsel; the dollar was to be given to charity.
His power and influence was great—in the world of orthodox Jewry certainly, but in many other places as well. Go to YouTube and check out, as I did, what Margaret Thatcher had to say about him.
And so for 40 years he was the rebbe, living, after his wife died, in the main synagogue, at 770 Eastern Parkway. Not a bad address—take a look:
And who was this guy, who apparently never claimed he was the messiah? Well, he seems singularly elusive:
We know nearly nothing of the Rebbe, whose organizational talent is largely responsible for keeping Judaism a worldwide religion (as well as keeping Judaism somewhat vibrant in pockets of communist countries, like those of the former Soviet Union)…. If the Rebbe had any personality outside his persona, either nobody saw it, or those who saw it don’t tell. Beholding the discretion of those around the Rebbe, one can only wonder that every pope should be so lucky.
And so, last night, thousands of Hasidim gathered in the Montefiore Cemetery in Queens, New York, to commemorate the twentieth anniversary of the death of the rebbe. The men were in one side, the women in another, there was even a section for the goyim, or gentiles. People were writing names of the dead down on pieces of paper, asking for a special blessing; believers were parking cars on irate neighbors’ driveways; the devout were having a nip or two of—presumably—vodka.
Who knows, maybe he was the Messiah?


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