Weekly Moment With the Rebbe

Two men in flight – one from his conscience, another from the Iron Curtain. How did the Rebbe hand each a life line? In honor of, Yud-Alef (11) Nissan, the 120th birthday of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, The Avner Institute presents two amazing stories, as told by Rabbis Yehoshua Weber and Berel Junik, when the Rebbe’s custom of handing out matzo helped to free one Jew spiritually, the other physically.

Rabbi Weber relates:

He looked very different from the rest of us seated around the long table in the hall in Yeshivas Toras Emes, which was then situated on Meah Shearim, one of Jerusalem’s best-known streets. Amid the shtreimels and black hats, the young man with the long hair and colorful kippah stood out.

It was the last day of Passover 5732/1972, and the venerable Rabbi Moshe Weber was speaking at the Seudas Mashiach, the final and customary meal among Chassidim. The young man probably did not find Rabbi Weber’s speech easy to understand, but the lofty content would have been difficult to grasp, even for the most scholarly.

Later, when Rabbi Reuven Dunin began to speak, the young man visibly appeared to relax. Clearly, as the sharp, contemporary idioms ricocheted through the hall, the visitor found this rabbi easier to relate to. Although here, too, some of the concepts were foreign, the speaker’s manner was down-to-earth. Rabbi Dunin, noticing this, made sure the young man was given the traditional four cups of wine, which were soon followed by another four. Eventually the young man joined in the singing.

Many times that evening, in the midst of his Hebrew, Rabbi Dunin used a certain Yiddish colloquialism, which the young man asked a neighbor to translate. To his surprise, the neighbor was evasive. When the young man tried asking someone else, he received the same reaction. Finally, frustrated, the young man decided to ask Rabbi Dunin himself.

“Excuse me,” he blurted, “but what does so-and-so mean?”

How does any Jew answer? With a question.

“Have you ever looked at an animal’s tail?” Rabbi Dunin began. “If not, then take a look at the people sitting around you! The tail moves backwards and forwards all the time, up and down, but it never moves of its own free will. It has no bones of its own or too many nerves. It doesn’t even know what it’s connected to!”

Suddenly, the young man burst into tears. At first, believing him offended by Rabbi Dunin’s tone of voice, we tried to console him. In vain – he continued his sobbing.

The Farbrengen carried on into the night. Everyone had forgotten that the holiday had just ended. While elsewhere Passover dishes were being put away and lines were forming outside bakeries, everyone at Toras Emes was still singing Passover melodies.

Broken Pieces

Around midnight, after everyone had finally recited the After-Blessings and the evening prayers, the gathering broke up. Only a few of us remained. It was at this point that the young man felt able to tell us what was on his mind.

“I come from a traditional background,” he explained. “After completing my military service I left Israel and settled in New York. There I gave up all religious observance and started going out with a gentile girl. Eventually we decided to get married.

“I have some Chabad relatives in Crown Heights who kept trying to change my mind. But it was no use. In the end, they begged me to go to the Rebbe for advice. I’m no fool, and I knew exactly what the Rebbe would say, so I refused. However, they managed to squeeze a compromise out of me. So I agreed to go the week before Pesach to see the Rebbe giving out matzoth.

“I figured I had nothing to lose. After all, I really didn’t believe in any of my relatives’ stuff. Once I received a piece of matzo from the Rebbe, everyone would get off my back.

“So exactly one week ago I went to Crown Heights. It was the day before Pesach when I joined the line, accompanied by my cousins. When I reached the Rebbe he gave me a piece of matzo and wished me a happy and kosher holiday.

“But then, as I began to walk away, the Rebbe called me back and asked, ‘Where do you live?’

“‘New York,’ I answered.

“‘And your parents?’

“‘In Israel.’

“‘Why don’t you spend Seder night with the rest of your family?’ the Rebbe suggested.

“I refused to answer this question directly, stammering that it probably wouldn’t work out.

“‘It’s not too late,’ said the Rebbe. ‘True, you won’t be able to spend the Seder with them, but you could travel after the first day of Yomtov and be with your parents for the rest of the holiday. This would make them very happy and you would have gained a mitzvah.’ With this the Rebbe gave me another two pieces of matzo which he said were for my parents.

“Before I could move on, the Rebbe stopped me again.

“‘Whereabouts do your parents live in Israel?’ he asked.

“‘Jerusalem.’

“‘Where in Jerusalem?’

“‘Romema.’

“‘Well,’ said the Rebbe, ‘Romema is not very far from Meah Shearim. All you need to do is to keep walking straight and you’ll get there. On the last day of Pesach a Seudas Moshiach is usually held in Yeshivas Toras Emes.’ He gave me directions. ‘You should go there and join in.’ Then the Rebbe wished me a successful journey and said that he would like to hear good news.

Tail End

“As I walked away, I was besieged by my relatives, as well as a crowd of other Chassidim, who all wanted to know what had happened. I found out that it was highly unusual for the Rebbe to engage in such a long conversation with someone while handing out matzah. When I told my cousins what the Rebbe had said, they exclaimed, ‘So what are you waiting for? Let’s book your flight!’

“‘What flight?’ I asked, in annoyance. ‘You told me to go see your Rebbe, so I did. But I don’t have to do anything else. Stop bugging me! It’s not worth it! I’m not going back to Israel, and that’s final!’

“My relatives obviously did not see it that way. They continued to pester me until I gave in, and that is why I am here.

“Naturally, my family was delighted to see me after a four-year absence. But I don’t need to tell you about the scenes that erupted once I told them about my girlfriend and my forthcoming marriage.

“Throughout Chol HaMoed I had been feeling torn. I began to realize how cut off I had been with my family and from the rest of my people. Today, the last day of Pesach, I remembered that the Rebbe had told me to come here. So here I am.

“When Rabbi Dunin started talking about the tail which does not know whether it wants to be up or down and has no will of its own, I began to think that maybe this is why the Rebbe sent me here.”

We suggested that he go to speak to Rabbi Dunin. We gave him the address of Rabbi Dunin’s father-in-law in Jerusalem, as well as Rabbi Dunin’s home address in Haifa. The young man graciously left but did not promise to make any definite contact.

Unfortunately, I have no idea what happened in the end. I only hope that this confused young man made the right decision and is today living the life of an observant Jew.

Who knows? Maybe he is a Chabad shaliach somewhere, with a wife and family. If he is out there, among our readers, or if anyone else knows of his whereabouts, I would love to know what happened to him.

Rabbi Junik relates:

It was 5706/1946. Many Soviet Jews scrambled for a way out of their oppressive homeland.

Among them was my family. We joined a large group who used false Polish papers to take the train over the Russo-Polish border at Lemberg (Lvov). For various reasons my brother could not join us, and he decided to travel with another group which was due to leave shortly afterwards.

In order to allay the suspicions of the authorities, this group did not travel straight to the border but took a long, circuitous route, stopping at various points. In those days, it was forbidden to stay overnight in a city that was not one’s place of residence. Unfortunately, my brother was unlucky enough to be caught in a random police search, and he was sentenced to a year in Zlotchov jail.

Upon release, he refused to give up and made another attempt at escape. After procuring all the necessary papers, he traveled to Chernovitz, where he met up with three other young men, including the well-known Chassid Rabbi Moshe Chaim Dubravsky. The four of them managed to cross the border into Romania.

However, this did not mean they were totally out of danger. At night, they slept in sheep pens and cow sheds while they wandered toward the border and to freedom in the west. They spent Shabbos at a town called Razuz. On Motzei Shabbos a non-Jewish escort would take them across the border, as previously arranged.

The only problem was that the escort did not arrive alone. He was accompanied by a group of policemen, who immediately arrested my brother and his friends, and had them sent back to the USSR.

How sadly ironic to think that my brother’s arrest in Stalinist Russia had occurred on 10 Kislev, the anniversary of the (second) Mittler Rebbe’s liberation from jail.

After a brief trial, my brother and his friends were condemned to death. But here, Divine Providence intervened and the death penalty was revoked. Instead, their sentence was commuted to 25 years in jail, with another five years of exile with hard labor.

My brother spent the first two years of his sentence in the infamous Karlag jail. From there he was sent to a labor camp in Amskivlag.

Only a person who has been there can truly understand the implications of such a sentence. The temperature throughout the year was between -44◦C. Many of the inmates – those who didn’t die of the cold – were so malnourished that they would eat anything. If a dog happened to stray inside the camp, it would disappear within minutes.

Time Matters

It was 5712/1952, the last day of Pesach. I was attending the customary Farbrengen at 770 during Seudas Moshiach. The Rebbe was handing out pieces of matzo to the participants, accompanied by his blessings.

When my turn came, I asked for a piece of matzo on behalf of my brother. To my amazement, the Rebbe gave me the matzo and said, “This is to be sent to your brother!”

Once I had regained my composure, I wondered how on earth I was going to send the Rebbe’s matzo to a Russian prison camp. So I asked the Rebbe, and he replied, “Give it to your brother when he gets here – not to America, but to another country outside the Iron Curtain.”

The Rebbe’s words lifted my spirits. I was absolutely certain that my brother would survive and eventually be free. It was all just a question of time.

On Rosh Chodesh Iyar, Rabbi Hendel Lieberman asked the Rebbe for a blessing “similar to the blessing the Rebbe gave to Reb Berel Junik.”

The Rebbe replied, “But that blessing is especially connected to the root of his soul.”

Reb Hendel countered, “I meant that I need a blessing for my brother Mendel Futerfas, who is in Russia.”

The Rebbe answered, “When Reb Berel’s brother is released from prison, your brother will also be released.”

A few years later, during a private audience, I spoke to the Rebbe on behalf of my father, who wanted a more specific blessing for my brother. To my amazement, the Rebbe exclaimed, “Why are you asking me to repeat myself? Your brother has had to put up with far worse things than this, and he will surely come through it all!”

Then the Rebbe began to cry. I cannot even begin to describe my feelings at that moment.

Saved Piece

In 5715/1955, shortly after that incident, my brother was suddenly released! Although happy to be out of jail, he was not yet truly free. As for us in New York, we were not too worried, as we were sure that one day he would leave the former Soviet Union. We still had the piece of the Rebbe’s matzo, which we were ready to give to him once he reached the free world.

Years passed. In the meantime, my brother married and somehow managed to set up a Chassidic home. In 5731/1971, more than twenty years after his failed escape, he finally managed to emerge from behind the Iron Curtain. When he asked the Rebbe where he should live, the Rebbe advised him to go to North America.

That Pesach, I met up with my long-lost brother in Canada, and I was happy to hand him that piece of motzo given to me by the Rebbe nineteen years earlier.

I never forgot the Rebbe’s words, “Give it to your brother when he gets here – not to America, but to a country outside the Iron Curtain.” Nor did I ever forget the promise which he later made to my brother that one day the Jews of Russia would be free.”