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:
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.
Read more: http://forward.com/articles/199036/why-rabbi-schneerson-was-good-for-jews-but-bad-for/#ixzz36KqaTjYQ
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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