“In a private audience someone who was not a Lubavitcher asked, “How is it that among Chabad Chassidim there are so many different opinions, with each one saying something else?”
-Rabbi Yosef Wineberg
How did the Rebbe try to save a bankrupt businessman? How did he reconcile differing views among his Chassidim? The Avner Institute presents two sober reminiscences of Rabbi Shabtai Slavaticki, where the Rebbe’s response, or lack of response, to scholar Rabbi Yosef Wineberg and an outside visitor revealed powerful messages.
“Just One Chance”
Rabbi Slavaticki relates:
Rabbi Yosef Wineberg, author of the popular Lessons in Tanya, often traveled all over the world to raise money and influence Jews into greater Torah observance. Among his supporters was a wealthy Brazilian man who made particularly generous donations. So naturally, whenever Rabbi Wineberg came to Brazil, this man’s mansion was his first stop. Always he was greeted with a large check for charity.
Unfortunately, though a great businessman, the man was a greater gambler. He loved visiting the casinos, a bit too much. As it often goes, you win at first, then try your luck again. Then again. Eventually, money is lost.
So too did it happen with this gentleman. In less than a year he burned away all his money and landed deeply into debt. Eventually he sold his mansion and moved to a small, simple apartment building.
Rabbi Wineberg, unaware of the reversal of fortune, cheerfully arrived at the airport and, as usual, hailed a taxi to the man’s palatial former home.
To his surprise, a non-Jewish woman answered the door. “Yes?” she asked.
“Is Mr. —— at home?” Rabbi Wineberg asked.
“You’re joking,” the woman exclaimed. She told the rabbi what had happened to his former benefactor, who now lived in the poorer part of town, and gave him the address.
News of the man’s fall from wealth truly saddened the rabbi who, to avoid embarrassing the former, decided not to see him. Upon his return to New York, the rabbi asked the secretaries to allow him to see the Rebbe.
The Rebbe, seated behind his oaken desk, listened sadly as Rabbi Wineberg described the man’s tragic plight. In the end the rabbi asked the Rebbe to bless the man for recovery of his wealth.
The Rebbe leaned over and opened a drawer. He withdrew a twenty-dollar bill and handed it to Rabbi Wineberg.
“Tell him this is for the start of our partnership,” he said.
“Partnership?” Rabbi Wineberg wondered.
“Tell the man to start his business over again, but with me as his partner in both profits and losses.”
The next day Rabbi Wineberg flew back to Brazil and looked up his former benefactor. The address led him to a semi-slum with laundry hanging from balconies and ragged children running around the alleyways.
The man, dressed in a simple shirt and slacks, appeared surprised and not a bit embarrassed to see the rabbi. Nevertheless, mustering his former elegance, he ushered the rabbi inside.
He listened as the rabbi animatedly described the visit with the Rebbe and the Rebbe’s offer. He even nodded at the twenty-dollar bill the rabbi held out.
But at last the man sighed. “I am sorry,” he answered. “It is very kind of the Rebbe. But I feel that I must not get him involved.”
Rabbi Wineberg was tempted to argue. But noticing the man’s pained expression, he understood: the man felt so demoralized that he had lost all confidence in rebuilding his business.
Sadly the rabbi left. When, back in New York, he told the Rebbe of the man’s refusal, the Rebbe took the bill and returned it to his drawer.
Time passed. Eventually Rabbi Wineberg returned to his usual jaunt in Brazil, with this man on his itinerary. This time, though, it was not for a donation – rather a talk with an old friend and a catch-up on news.
The man seemed eager to see the rabbi again. “Please tell the Rebbe that I changed my mind. I feel ready again to go into business, and I’d like the Rebbe to be my partner.”
Rabbi Wineberg brightened. When he returned to New York, he wrote to the Rebbe about what had happened and how the man had reconsidered.
But no answer came. After a few days, Rabbi Wineberg wrote again and asked for a blessing in the business and partnership. Once again, there was no answer.
Sadly Rabbi Wineberg returned to Brazil. After finishing baggage claim he skimmed through his address book and list of names. Too embarrassed to visit his friend, he decided to go elsewhere.
As he was leaving the airport, he found to his surprise the former philanthropist standing there, as if waiting for him.
“I heard you were coming,” the man explained. “I thought I’d meet you in person, since you never got back with me about the Rebbe’s answer.”
Rabbi Wineberg, avoiding the man’s eyes, tried to slink away. And the man realized that the Rebbe was no longer interested in being his partner. The Rebbe had given him just one chance, which he had turned down. The man should have known: it’s not every day you get an offer from the Rebbe.
To this day, this man has remained in the same, sad situation. He never regained his wealth. To this day he remembers the Rebbe’s offer and chides himself constantly for rejecting it.
You just can’t say no to an offer from the Rebbe.
“The Hearts are One”
In a private audience someone who was not a Lubavitcher asked, “How is it that among Chabad Chassidim there are so many different opinions, with each one saying something else?”
The Rebbe replied, “There are seemingly two contradictory statements. One says, ‘As one man with one heart,’ and the other says, ‘There opinions are not the same.’ How can we reconcile the two statements?
“The answer is simple. Although the views are divergent, which is how G-d created people, the hearts are one. The point in common, the commonality of feeling, is the same for all.”
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