The Lamplighter
I started this blog a year ago and then promptly left it alone. But at the prodding of a dear friend H.N. I'm going to give it another try.
I'll post here the Thoughts for the Week from the emails that I send to my constituents at Chabad @ USC. During the summer they're a bit intermittent, but as the year gets underway they should be fairly steady.
Thought for the Week
This past weekend, I had the opportunity to share some thoughts with the Chabad community in Irvine. The Rabbis there, Rabbis Tenenbaum and Andrusier, asked us to join them as the scholar-in-residence for a community Shabbaton. We were very impressed with the warmth and dedication of the community, and enjoyed a beautiful Shabbat.
In keeping with the Torah portion of the week, one of the topics I talked about was the Menorah – the candelabra lit every day in the Holy Temple in Jerusalem. The Torah instructs Aaron, the High Priest, to kindle these lights. However, there is actually an interesting point of law: The Torah actually requires that the preparation of the candles every day be done specifically by one of Aaron’s descendants, the Kohanim. The kindling itself, however, can be done by any Jew.
The Lubavitcher Rebbe explains this detail in the context of the spiritual ideal behind the lighting of the Menorah. The Menorah’s seven branches, Jewish mysticism teaches, represent the manifold different types of personalities and people included within the Jewish nation. But all seven branches are part of one, single candelabra. All of the many different characteristics and attitudes that so clearly delineate us as distinct individuals cannot separate us from the essential bond that unifies us all.
This was the job of Aaron – to seek out the many different candles, the many different Jewish souls. “G-d’s candle is the soul of man” says the Scripture. Just as a physical wax, oil, or wick, man’s soul may appear at times to be cold, dark, and inanimate. But Aaron recognizes that the person is still a candle. All that he lacks is someone to apply the flame—someone to show a little bit of warmth, to share a little bit of illumination, and his soul too will flicker to animated and passionate life.
“Be of the students of Aaron,” we are instructed in Ethics of our Fathers. Recognize that Aaron’s occupation—that of lamplighter, of kindler of souls—is one that is relevant to us all. We each can—we each must—do our part in reaching out to the people around us. The lighting of the Menorah was not and is not a job reserved for Aaron.
That being said, the preparation of the wicks did require a Kohen’s involvement. Setting the path, establishing the parameters, requires someone who is steeped in purity and holiness. For it is easy to get lost in compromise, to dilute the message in an effort to make it more palatable or popular. We can’t each go around deciding on our own how Judaism should be taught or what Judaism means. But once the way has been prepared for us, and the rules of engagement have been set out, we are each responsible and obligated to bear the torch forward.
I think of this message now as we approach, yet again, the 3rd of Tammuz (Thursday, June 29). On the 3rd of Tammuz 2488 (1237 BCE) Joshua bade the sun stand still, so that the Jewish people could conclude a battle against their enemies… and the sun listened. And on the 3rd of Tammuz 5754 (1994 CE), for tens of thousands of Jews around the world, the sun once again stood still as our revered and beloved Rebbe was taken from us. Many people talk of the Rebbe’s erudite scholarship, of his revolutionary leadership. But to me, the core of what the Rebbe meant and continues to mean is in his role as a lighter of lamps. Not just lighting and illuminating the lives and souls of so many of us, but more importantly by inspiring us—his Chassidim—to each ourselves take up the role of lamplighter.
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, Chief Rabbi of Great Britain, described what struck him when as a young man he had an audience with the Lubavitcher Rebbe. “This was not a man who was interested in creating followers. This was a man who was passionate about creating leaders.”
In an article in the Jewish Journal a couple of weeks back, entitled “We Must Treat Others with Kindness by Rabbi David Wolpe”, there was the following anecdote:
‘Rabbi Reuven Kimmelman told me a wonderful story about the Lubavitcher Rebbe. Apparently, the Rebbe once had a meeting with Sen. [Daniel] Moynihan. After the senator asked him for his support, the Rebbe said, “Now I have something to ask you.”
Moynihan, used to the requests of constituents, smiled and asked the Rebbe what he could do for him.
“Well” he said, “there is a population of people in New York who are good people, law abiding, good families, who do not really understand the system. I think they are not being treated as well as they should be. I want you, senator,” concluded the Rebbe, “to make sure you take care of the recent immigrants in Chinatown.”’
There’s no end to the stories. Every day spawned dozens. And every day continues to do so. Every life that is touched—every soul that is set aflame—by the work that we do here at Chabad @ USC is directly attributable to the Rebbe’s inspiration. And the same is true of each of the 100 campus Chabad Houses, or the 125 Chabad institutions in the West Coast, as it is of the approximately 3,400 Chabad centers throughout the world.
The Kohen established the path and prepared the candles. We’ve got to step up and light the Menorah.
As in the past, I will be spending the 3rd of Tammuz in study and prayer at the Rebbe’s gravesite in Queens, NY. It is customary on the anniversary of a Tzadik’s passing to visit his grave and mention the names of family in friends, praying to the Almighty for a blessing in the Tzadik’s merit. If any of you would like me to pray for a blessing on your behalf, I would be happy to do so. Please email your Hebrew name along with your mother’s Hebrew name—if you know it—to Chabad@usc.edu and I will be happy to include you in my prayers.
I'll post here the Thoughts for the Week from the emails that I send to my constituents at Chabad @ USC. During the summer they're a bit intermittent, but as the year gets underway they should be fairly steady.
Thought for the Week
This past weekend, I had the opportunity to share some thoughts with the Chabad community in Irvine. The Rabbis there, Rabbis Tenenbaum and Andrusier, asked us to join them as the scholar-in-residence for a community Shabbaton. We were very impressed with the warmth and dedication of the community, and enjoyed a beautiful Shabbat.
In keeping with the Torah portion of the week, one of the topics I talked about was the Menorah – the candelabra lit every day in the Holy Temple in Jerusalem. The Torah instructs Aaron, the High Priest, to kindle these lights. However, there is actually an interesting point of law: The Torah actually requires that the preparation of the candles every day be done specifically by one of Aaron’s descendants, the Kohanim. The kindling itself, however, can be done by any Jew.
The Lubavitcher Rebbe explains this detail in the context of the spiritual ideal behind the lighting of the Menorah. The Menorah’s seven branches, Jewish mysticism teaches, represent the manifold different types of personalities and people included within the Jewish nation. But all seven branches are part of one, single candelabra. All of the many different characteristics and attitudes that so clearly delineate us as distinct individuals cannot separate us from the essential bond that unifies us all.
This was the job of Aaron – to seek out the many different candles, the many different Jewish souls. “G-d’s candle is the soul of man” says the Scripture. Just as a physical wax, oil, or wick, man’s soul may appear at times to be cold, dark, and inanimate. But Aaron recognizes that the person is still a candle. All that he lacks is someone to apply the flame—someone to show a little bit of warmth, to share a little bit of illumination, and his soul too will flicker to animated and passionate life.
“Be of the students of Aaron,” we are instructed in Ethics of our Fathers. Recognize that Aaron’s occupation—that of lamplighter, of kindler of souls—is one that is relevant to us all. We each can—we each must—do our part in reaching out to the people around us. The lighting of the Menorah was not and is not a job reserved for Aaron.
That being said, the preparation of the wicks did require a Kohen’s involvement. Setting the path, establishing the parameters, requires someone who is steeped in purity and holiness. For it is easy to get lost in compromise, to dilute the message in an effort to make it more palatable or popular. We can’t each go around deciding on our own how Judaism should be taught or what Judaism means. But once the way has been prepared for us, and the rules of engagement have been set out, we are each responsible and obligated to bear the torch forward.
I think of this message now as we approach, yet again, the 3rd of Tammuz (Thursday, June 29). On the 3rd of Tammuz 2488 (1237 BCE) Joshua bade the sun stand still, so that the Jewish people could conclude a battle against their enemies… and the sun listened. And on the 3rd of Tammuz 5754 (1994 CE), for tens of thousands of Jews around the world, the sun once again stood still as our revered and beloved Rebbe was taken from us. Many people talk of the Rebbe’s erudite scholarship, of his revolutionary leadership. But to me, the core of what the Rebbe meant and continues to mean is in his role as a lighter of lamps. Not just lighting and illuminating the lives and souls of so many of us, but more importantly by inspiring us—his Chassidim—to each ourselves take up the role of lamplighter.
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, Chief Rabbi of Great Britain, described what struck him when as a young man he had an audience with the Lubavitcher Rebbe. “This was not a man who was interested in creating followers. This was a man who was passionate about creating leaders.”
In an article in the Jewish Journal a couple of weeks back, entitled “We Must Treat Others with Kindness by Rabbi David Wolpe”, there was the following anecdote:
‘Rabbi Reuven Kimmelman told me a wonderful story about the Lubavitcher Rebbe. Apparently, the Rebbe once had a meeting with Sen. [Daniel] Moynihan. After the senator asked him for his support, the Rebbe said, “Now I have something to ask you.”
Moynihan, used to the requests of constituents, smiled and asked the Rebbe what he could do for him.
“Well” he said, “there is a population of people in New York who are good people, law abiding, good families, who do not really understand the system. I think they are not being treated as well as they should be. I want you, senator,” concluded the Rebbe, “to make sure you take care of the recent immigrants in Chinatown.”’
There’s no end to the stories. Every day spawned dozens. And every day continues to do so. Every life that is touched—every soul that is set aflame—by the work that we do here at Chabad @ USC is directly attributable to the Rebbe’s inspiration. And the same is true of each of the 100 campus Chabad Houses, or the 125 Chabad institutions in the West Coast, as it is of the approximately 3,400 Chabad centers throughout the world.
The Kohen established the path and prepared the candles. We’ve got to step up and light the Menorah.
As in the past, I will be spending the 3rd of Tammuz in study and prayer at the Rebbe’s gravesite in Queens, NY. It is customary on the anniversary of a Tzadik’s passing to visit his grave and mention the names of family in friends, praying to the Almighty for a blessing in the Tzadik’s merit. If any of you would like me to pray for a blessing on your behalf, I would be happy to do so. Please email your Hebrew name along with your mother’s Hebrew name—if you know it—to Chabad@usc.edu and I will be happy to include you in my prayers.