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Rabbi Shaya's Thoughts

A Lesson In Leadership

This past week I spent twenty-four hours in the presence of thousands of people from around the world. This was not at some fancy conference center; it was at a cemetery in Queens, New York. Granted, this cemetery is not just any cemetery—it is the resting place of the Lubavitcher Rebbe. This place is simply known as the Ohel (the tent).

Why are men, women, and children from all walks of life coming to spend a few minutes at the Ohel on the Rebbe’s yahrtzeit? I met Jews from France, Bangkok, Israel, and across the U.S. They were there at all hours of the day and night. Even at 2 a.m. there was a line to get into the Ohel just to spend two minutes at the Rebbe’s resting place to say a prayer.

Why do these twenty-four hours mean so much to so many people, twenty-three years after his passing?

I will attempt to shed some light on this by explaining an enigma from this week’s Torah portion, Chukat.

This week’s portion discusses how the Jews wanted to go to the Promised Land of Israel, but in order to do so they had to pass through another people’s land. To get permission to do so, Moses sent messengers to the King of Edom asking for permission, which was not granted. Later in the portion we are told that the Jews sent messengers to Sichon, the King of Amori, but again permission was not granted.

Why does the Torah say that the first time messengers were sent, that Moses sent them, yet the second time, the Jews sent them? Does it really make a difference who sent them? After all, Moses was the leader of the Jewish people, which means that he was acting on their behalf. So it really means the same thing. Yet if it is so simple, then why does the Torah go back and forth?

Rashi, the famous classic commentator, teaches us a powerful lesson. He says: Moses, the leader of the Jews, and the Jews, are one! There is no separation between Moses as leader and Moses as an individual. Therefore, Moses’s essence and the essence of the Jewish people are one.

Not many leaders in history are like that. Many in leadership positions feel it is an occupation, a job, a responsibility, and perhaps even a burden. Only for a select few in history is it their life. 

I am not a judge of history who can decide who is a leader like Moses and who isn’t, but the only explanation that I can come up with to explain why thousands of people would stand for hours to visit the Rebbe’s gravesite, is because they feel a connection to him. They feel that the Rebbe cared – and on a spiritual level still cares – for them. The Rebbe was a person whose life was dedicated to every single Jew from every walk of life without any judgement whatsoever.

I would like to share a story with you.

In the mid 1950s, the Chabad community in Russia was working covertly teaching Jews Torah. Some were scared that the Communists would catch them, and recommended that they limit their “outreach” to “in-reach,” meaning that they should only teach their own. Why risk being sent to prison for the “Bukharin Jews?” They decided to ask the Rebbe for advice. Since they could only write to those in the U.S. in code, they asked the Rebbe whether they should polish their “white shoes” only, or also their “brown shoes.” The response that they received was, “Shoes are shoes; who cares the color?”

The Rebbe’s love for every Jew was real. It was sincere. He cared. The evidence is clear twenty-three years later. 

 

 

An Example of True Leadership

This Tuesday marks the twenty-third Yahrtziet of the Rebbe. So much has been written about the Rebbe, yet there is so much more to say. The unique qualities that the Rebbe embodied could fill many books, and now thanks to the internet, you can learn easily by clicking here.

Today I would like to share with you just one lesson from the Rebbe that is expressed in this week’s Torah portion.

Speaking in broad terms, leaders are concerned about the big picture: about their community, their company, or their country. But the individual? That they leave up to the people lower on the chain of command. That is not a leader issue. But a unique leader cares about the whole community, while still caring about every single individual.

We see this example in this week’s Torah portion where we learn that Korach and his two hundred and fifty men challenged Moses’s leadership. Moses in turn challenged them to this contest: Tomorrow, he proposed, let’s all bring our pan with incense as an offering and we will see whose incense G-d accepts—knowing that G-d would not accept theirs. But Moses then turns to G-d and says please don’t even pay attention to them at all!

What is Moses saying? Doesn’t he want G-d to pay attention to them and punish them for bringing the incense? Isn’t this his chance to get revenge?

If Moses were a leader who was only concerned about the community, then our questions would be reasonable. Get rid of the troublemakers so you can continue to lead. But Moses was a leader who cared for each and every individual – even those who challenged him directly – and therefore he was as concerned about his opponents as he was about his followers.

The Rebbe lived his life the same way. To the Rebbe, every Jew counted. Everyone mattered. There was no such thing as a more important or less important person, a more important or less important matter.

Often, when the Rebbe would go from his office to his car to go home, he would take some coins and give them to the children to give to charity. Once he had one less coin than were children. An adult standing nearby reached into his own pocket to give the Rebbe more coins so that he could give them to the remaining child. The Rebbe refused and went back to his office to fetch some more coins, so that the child should not feel left out. This was the Rebbe. Even the feelings of a child mattered to the Rebbe.

This is a sign of a true leader. 

May the Rebbe continue to be an inspiration to us all,

 

 

Remaining True To Your Mission

 

The story of Moses sending scouts to check out the land of Israel before the Jews entered is one of the most popular stories in the Torah. Yet something that makes so much sense went so wrong. How is that possible?

A little refresher is in order.

 The Jews were finally about to enter the land of Israel. In order to know how best to enter the land, to learn the “lay of the land,” they asked Moses if they could send scouts in advance. Moses turned to G-d, who responded to Moses, saying that it was his call—if he thought it would calm down the Jews and give them the confidence to enter the Holy Land, send them. On his own, Moses chose to send the scouts. But he was wary. Would they stray? Would they scout out the land or would they spy on the people? Moses even prayed that Joshua, his trusted servant and disciple, would not get caught up in the men’s plot – if there would be one.

Clearly Moses was worried, yet not worried enough to cancel the mission—but he was concerned enough to pray for Joshua.

What went wrong?

If you pay close attention to the words the Torah uses to describe this group of men, you will notice that at first they are called “scouts” and later on they are called “spies.” What is the difference? And why was Moses so upset when they shifted from scouts to spies?

Scouts do not hide their identity nor their raison d'etre; they are honest people. For example, Joseph’s brothers many years earlier came to Egypt to look for food. They did not hide their identity or their mission – they were clear – yet Joseph accused them of being spies. So Moses told the scouts: If you want to check out the Holy Land of Israel, fine. But do not do so under cover. There is no reason to hide. Go around, let the people know why you are coming, what you are looking for. Be truthful. However, the men had other plans. They went under cover; they hid. They became spies. They made sure that no one knew who they were.

By definition, scouts are sent to observe and report back their findings, not draw their own conclusions. Spies, on the other hand, work much more independently. They form their own identities, draw their own conclusions, and make their own decisions. When that happens, there is a break between the sender and the sendee.

Moses knew that even if the men became spies, it didn’t mean that their conclusions would go against G-d’s will, so he did not stop them from going to scout out the land of Israel. But he was still concerned, because he knew that going down that road could become a slippery slope.

The lesson for us is clear: If we want to be connected to our spouse, to G-d, to the Torah, to our family, it is important to look out for each other, to see how we can be of help—how we can improve each others’ lives and our own lives. But always in an honest way. Never behind one’s back. Never in a sneaky – spying – fashion.

Moses, an honest man, was hurt most by that lack of honesty from the men he entrusted with such a crucial mission. 

Shabbat Shalom

 

 

 

 

There Is Always A Second Chance

The saying that “it is never too late—there is always a second chance” has a positive ring to it. In essence, the saying means that although you may have failed the first time around, you have a second opportunity. And this time around, not only can you right your wrong, but it will be even better because you have learned from your first experience! If you think about it for a moment, however, there is a negative connotation as well. You failed the first time. But don’t feel badly, because you can pick yourself up and try again. But what about the people who didn’t fail to begin with? What about them? Do they, too, have a “second chance?” Can they experience the benefits of a second chance without actually ever failing first?

This week’s Torah portion, Behaalotecha, talks about the first time that a group of Jews were unable to bring the Pascal offering because they were ritually impure. They complained to Moses, asking, “why are we different?” They tried to defend the Jews but found then that they were going to miss out? Moses turned to G-d for guidance. G-d responded by telling them that in a month’s time, they would be able to bring a “second Pascal offering.” From this, we learn that there is always a second chance.

This new law eventually came to include any “new” Jew (bar/bat mitzvah or a convert) who joined our peoplehood between Passover and the second Passover (this mini one-day Passover). The “new” Jew also has to bring an offering on this day, which means that this is not just about second chances, but also about first chances. 

Aha! Here is the deeper meaning of the saying that “it is never too late—there is always a second chance.”

The first time around, even if one cannot bring the Pascal offering they are still observing the holiday of Passover, albeit not to the fullest. But observing they are. So the lesson of the first holiday, which is of humility, is there—that of remembering that there is a G-d that took us out of Egypt. On the second Passover, when bread is permitted to be eaten, only a person who missed the first Pascal offering brings an offering now. But the lesson of the second holiday, that of transformation (finishing up what was started), applies to everyone.  

To put it another way, the emphasis is not on the actual offering itself, but on the lesson that the holiday teaches us. The first step is humility and second is transformation. The offering is the boost that helps propel us to the desired level. Either we get the boost up front, or we get it later on.

Looking at it this way, having a second chance has no negative connotation at all. The lesson in life either came early or late, but one is not better than the other.  

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