What Inspired the ‘Aish Kodesh’

By COLlive reporter

Rabbi Moshe Weinberger is the Rov of Congregation Aish Kodesh in Woodmere, New York, and Mashpia/mashgiach ruchani at Yeshiva University’s Rabbi Isaac Elchanan Theological Seminary (RIETS).

The following is a personal story he told as part of a sermon for Shabbos Parshas Korach 5778 which coincided with Gimmel Tammuz, yartzeit of the Rebbe. It was published on the Dixie Yid blog:

When I was in my last year of college at Yeshiva University, I was at a crossroads – facing what I felt was the most critical decision in my life.

On one hand, I considered attending law school. I had even attended the Kaplan LSAT preparation course, though I spent most of those classes listening to Simon and Garfunkel on my Walkman.

My mother was an extremely strong and persuasive proponent of this option. And my father always told me that it was better to go into a profession than into business because it would be easier to find a job even in difficult economic times.

But my heart told me that I should continue learning Torah and pursue chinnuch, teaching in yeshivah. It was an extremely difficult choice.

Despite the fact that the Lubavitcher Rebbe was no longer holding individual meetings, I traveled to Crown Heights one Sunday. I did not have a clear plan, but I knew that the Rebbe finished Mincha and left to daven at the grave of his father-in-law, the Friediker Rebbe zy’a, at the same exact time every Sunday.

I suppose that I planned to try and catch the Rebbe’s attention and ask my question before he got into his car. If he normally left at, for example 3 p.m., I waited outside 770 Eastern Parkway at 2:55. I was initially pleasantly surprised by the fact that there were only three or four other people around. I thought it might be easier than I had originally anticipated to catch the Rebbe’s attention.

Unfortunately, at approximately 2:59, hundreds chassidim appeared seemingly out of nowhere and gathered on either side of the sidewalk between the exit from 770 and the Rebbe’s car.

Not being a particularly pushy individual, I found myself about three rows back from the front of the row of people on my side of the sidewalk. My hopes of even catching the Rebbe’s eye now seemed completely unrealistic.

A few of the chassidim around me, however, seemed to feel bad for me, realizing that if a young man like me, with a little kippah srugah, knitted yarmulke, was there, I must have some important reason for wanting to see the Rebbe. They therefore pulled me to the front row. Thankful for their help, I hoped that I would at least have the chance to make eye contact with the Rebbe.

When the Rebbe emerged from 770, he walked extremely quickly, carrying a siddur in one hand and a bag of kvitelach to bring to the Ohel in the other hand. With each step he took, he nodded purposefully at those in the crowd around him. As he sped past, I sadly realized that the Rebbe did not even notice my presence and I was not able to make eye contact.

The Rebbe began to duck into the car waiting for him when he paused for a moment. He then turned around and walked straight up to me. He stood about one foot in front of my face without saying a word. After a moment, looking at me straight in the eyes as he did so, he simply pumped his fist into the air in a gesture which said to me, “You can do it! You will succeed!”

And just as quickly as he had come, he turned back toward his car, got in, and left. The chassidim around me were baffled, and asked me what was going on and why the Rebbe had stopped and gestured to me.

Afterward, when I returned home to process what had happened and what the Rebbe’s message meant to me, I understood it to mean that despite the fact that Torah and chinnuch held a more uncertain financial future, that I could do it, and that I would succeed.

My mother, however, was convinced that the Rebbe was telling me, “You can get into Columbia Law School!” But in the end, I took the Rebbe’s encouragement to mean that I should continue to pursue my dreams of continuing to focus on Torah and chinnuch.

That is why we need and love true tzaddikim like the Lubavitcher Rebbe. While they live and die for the welfare and development of the Jewish people, they continue to concern themselves and care about every single one of us as well. They tell each of us, “I know. No one else may understand you, but I know your pain and your deepest desires and dreams. I haven’t forgotten about you.”

May Hashem send the ultimate tzaddik, Moshiach Tzidkeinu, into the world soon in our times so that we can also return to Yerushalayim for the ultimate fulfillment of our national and individual potential.