THE WARMTH OF A REBBE

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THE WARMTH OF A REBBE

Harav Y. R. Rubin

Yahrzeits are a strange brew of emotional feelings. When one lights a candle for a teacher and rebbe its flame licks at one’s heart. This week is the yahrzeit of the Bobover Rebbe Rav Shlomo Ztl, my connection with the Rav went back to the late fifties, and during my formative years it was his warmth and care that ignited whatever fire burns within me. As a freshly bar mitzved boy I was blessed to be introduced to the Rebbe by my melamed. The Rebbe immediately created a bridge with this American born stranger that was built on kindness and care. The first thing he said to me was that he wanted me to be his friend not his chossid. I was invited into his closest ring of Talmidim and entrusted with a wide range of undertakings. All this as a mere youngster who had no real connections with Bobov. The Rebbe saw in me a path not taken by most day school students in those years. His support in my personal growth has led me to whatever I have become all these decades later. One vital plank in this bridge was the Rebbe’s sweet understanding of what I needed in finding my particular path in life. His was not a road of imitation, but rather one of advising a young soul to look within for one’s truth.

There is a vort from the tzadik the Bendiner Rav Ztl that speaks to this subject. When Bilaam proclaimed “Mah Tovu, how goodly are the tents of Yaakov” Rashi explains that the Rosho was taken back on how careful the Yidden were when setting up their encampment. No door opened up to the possible vision of its neighbour, this was because the Yidden had an innate sense of modesty and didn’t want one family to look into the others personal space. The Bendiner shares a unique insight into this, he tells us further in this vein that every Yied has his or her unique spiritual tikun to fulfil, and as such they each have to take a pathway that is tailored for their spiritual needs. We are all unique and what one does is not necessarily positive for the next. Each of us have a personal door, that opening in our hearts, that needs to be nourished yet respected for its uniqueness.

I personally experienced the Rav’s sensitivity in such matters. Culturally I came from a foreign land, a place where Chassidus was first being planted, I spoke a strange language, and my life experiences were different from those around me. Most of my friends were children of survivors, I was almost a lone Yankee born and raised student. Amongst the survivor community most were related either by blood or shared life experiences, whilst I came from a world of baseball and bubble gum. Yet, this wise and caring man looked into my thirsty soul and said, ‘Be my friend’. These words touched my youthful heart, and opened up the floodgates of my future.

I was not alone, the Rav had many ‘friends’ in whom he injected the tincture of spiritual warmth, and his yahrzeit floods my heart with humility and love. Humility because I was a nobody yet this tzadik deemed me worthy of the many hours of guidance that our friendship would engender. ‘Love’ because despite the fact that my future would take me to different springs of Torah truths, the Rav constantly supported me and like a true friend, cared about my wellbeing.

As the Bendiner Rav points out, the true greatness of the soul can be found only when we allow each Yied their unique place. As I write these words of remembrance for The Bobover Rebbe Rav Shlomo Ztl my words come haltering. How can one express thanks for the gift of a life lived with Torah? Truthfully words will never suffice, instead I hope I can be found worthy of the Rebbe’s friendship for that stumbling youngster, and grasp on to his path in guiding others with his warmth.