Remembering the Rebbe ztl

By Harav Y. Reuven Rubin Shlita

 

The thought stops you in your tracks:  how can you begin to explain the inexplicable? Describing tzaddikim is really impossible; they are on another plain of existence and trying to describe such unique neshomas from a vantage point of gashmius which engulfs us is definitely unfeasible. Yet we are taught to speak of such matters; in fact the entire narrative of the Jewish existence is a tapestry woven through the threads of their activities. From my youngest days I remember hearing stories of tzaddikim that were redolent of the world of yesteryear. It gave me a sense of who I wanted to be tomorrow.

I think that the snippets of stories I am about to impart are the best we can hope for, and as the tzaddikim weave their holy way through our lives we can gain some understanding of how wondrous they really are.

“He didn’t need extraneous signs to announce his greatness, just his smile and sometimes a hint of a nigun which often accompanied his blessings.”

I write these words days before the yohrzeit of the Lev Simcha of Ger ztl who was niftar in 5752 -1992. I miss the Rebbe, his warmth, his wisdom, his infinite love for Klal Yisroel, all this and so much more. I see his picture and my heart feels his holy tug; his eyes that filled supplicants with hope and love still give of their warmth. I have decided to share some of my personal experiences of the Rebbe with you, so that these snapshots can be added to the growing album of our knowledge of the enormity of who the Rebbe was.

Over thirty years ago we were living in the north of Israel in the chassidishe Kiriya named Kiryat Hachassidim. This small community was founded under the direction of the Rebbe who sought to build communities outside the main centres of Israel. This was done so that young families could have a place to live without the difficult financial burdens of residing in the larger cities. Here too one could see the Rebbe’s heartfelt caring for all of Klal Yisroel. He couldn’t abide to see the crushing costs young couples faced whilst trying to set up homes. Apartments in Bnei Brak or Yerusholayim were prohibitive for kollel yungeleit, and parents of large families had no way to help each child set up a new home. Hence, several new communities were created and the Rebbe let it be known that he expected all the Chassidim to facilitate their young marrieds in moving and populating them. This didn’t only help the immediate Gerrer community; it made such new development endeavours a real option for other groups as well. The same phenomenon happened with the many guidelines the Rebbe set up for wedding costs and other simchas. Others soon followed and made economical simchas the norm.

We found a place in Chatzor following the Rebbe’s instructions and soon fell in love with the quiet lifestyle and gentle Galilee countryside. Our family had a comfortable niche and life seemed set. Then one spring day I went to the Rebbe for a brocho since my oldest daughter had just been married. The Rebbe looked me in the eye with his all-encompassing gaze and asked “what are you doing here? Beis Medrash!” With that he placed in my trembling hand an orange with his blessing for success. (The Rebbe used to give every guest gifts of fruit, something on which to make a brocho.) One didn’t tarry inside the Rebbe’s room. What he said still hung in my mind, a dangling question without any obvious answers. Standing outside the Rebbe’s door was the Rav of Chatzor, Rav Abramovitz ztl. I asked him what he made of the strange encounter and he smiled and said, “I don’t know what the Rebbe meant, but if I were you I would pack my bags.”

Now I was really confused! With the Rebbe, though, one didn’t ask questions. I went home and we as a family decided to just see what would happen.

That very Friday I spotted an advertisement in an English language newspaper promoting a position in an Orthodox community in Manchester that was seeking a Rav. Well, Hashem has many shluchim and I thought: maybe this is what the Rebbe meant. Cutting a long story very short, we were soon packing our belongings and preparing to move to Manchester. On my last night in Chatzor I went to the Rebbe to receive a parting blessing. As I entered the Rebbe looked up and asked: what do you want? I answered that I was going to Manchester in the morning and wanted a brocho. The Rebbe sort of smiled and asked why I was going to Manchester? (The Rebbe had been kept abreast of my every step) My mind was whirling, “Er… for the Rabbonus.” The Rebbe then touched his ear and said, “Iche hare nisht. Vos zugs die? Savlonus? Ah Rabbonus! Go with hatzlacha!” (I don’t hear well what did you say? Savlonus  (forebearance). Ah, Rabbonus! (the Rabbinate). Go with success!”

Reb Chanina Schiff z’l, the long- serving gabbai to several Gerrer Rebbes heard the exchange, and laughed. So we went to South Manchester and served the community for twenty five years. Every such position has its ups and downs, its trials and tribulations. As long as the Rebbe was with us, whenever I called to ask if I should remain in the position or perhaps move on, the Gabbai would return with the Rebbe’s reply: “Savlonus”.

The Rebbe cared for me as a person, knowing that I needed another challenge. At the same time he had in mind a far off community in another country. Far from Ger, but needing someone who may be of some help.

This is not even a drop in the ocean of greatness that was the Lev Simcha. But it gives you a smidgeon of his hands-on caring for Klal Yisroel, on the part of a tzaddik that showed his caring on so many different levels. All this was done with humility and Polisher Pashtus. The Rebbe shunned all the pomp one often encounters in Rabbinical courts. He forswore any special Rabbinical garb, opting for the dress code of a Chassidic businessman. He didn’t need extraneous signs to announce his greatness, just his smile and sometimes a hint of a nigun which often accompanied his blessings. These were his passport into the hearts of thousands, all the while hiding his Torah greatness and burning avodas Hashem.

May the Rebbes merit stand with us during these difficult final days of Golus, and may all that he sought to bring Klal Yisroel soon come to fruition with the coming of the final Redemption.