The Jewish people are like a challa. That braided loaf of egg bread is not simply a static object waiting to be consumed. It’s a symbolic and dynamic work of art that you really need to chew on in order to digest.
I’d like to focus on the braids – out, in, crossover, out the other way, back, crossover, and repeat.
We too have our outs and ins. Our generation, the Rebbe’s generation, has seen a phenomenal and monumental return to roots the likes of which has not been seen in history. That great “in” was preceded by a very great “out.” Propelled by social forces including secularism, atheism, communism, anti-Semitism, and so much more, we have been scattered to the ends of the spiritual spectrum. How miraculous is the return.
But here we are again. The forces of assimilation are not only making the weak weaker, they are making the strong weaker too. Quite simultaneous with the immense teshuvah movement is a comparably huge drift to spiritual disinterest.
I see it all the time. Two half-observant people sit at the same table. They look fairly similar, their levels of observance are indistinguishable, but inside they are light years apart. One, the baal teshuvah, is on the outside looking in -wanting to go from 50% to 51% and beyond. The other, a lapsing Jew, is on the inside looking out – wanting to go from 50% to 49%.
The first D’var Torah I ever heard was 30 years ago and it lasted only 30 seconds. Still I remember it like yesterday. I had just walked into a room full of college students as a Chabad rabbi was saying, “You’ve got a ladder and there’s someone on the 600th step and someone on the 2nd step. Who’s higher?”
The room was silent. I thought, “What’s the matter with these morons? It’s obvious. As a matter of fact if this rabbi says anything else no doubt he’s an idiot too.”
“The guy on the 600th step,” I blurted, walking right into his well-laid pedagogical trap.
“It depends,” he continued, “If the guy on the 600th rung is coming down and the guy on the 2nd rung is going up, you have to ask, what’s more important? Where you are standing or where you are headed? You cannot reach an Infinite G-d by being on a higher rung because a million is still zero percent of infinity. The only way you can get closer is to do something infinite yourself. By climbing you are transcending your level. That act is what gets you close.”
The Baal Teshuvah has one advantage in serving his Maker. Nobody forced him to. It was his or her decision from his or her own volition. Every step up is his. For “the lifer” it is more complicated. The life of Torah and mitzvos that surrounds a person from birth is a given. They are trained to think and act in a certain way and that’s that. Later when they start evaluating secular culture and thinking for themselves, they may come to any conclusion.
When we pray the Shmoneh Esrai, we say “E-lokeinu v’E-lokei avoisaynu” – first He is our G-d, then the G-d of our fathers. The lifer’s challenge is the first part. As one mashpia put it so frighteningly and so eloquently, “The problem with the children of Baalei Teshuvah is that they are lifers, but don’t worry – their children will be Baalei Teshuvah.” I am convinced that the first half is overly pessimistic, but not 100% convinced.
Ever since publishing my correspondence with the “Secular Lubavitcher” my phone and inbox have been lightning rods for feedback from around the world. This is an issue that tears at so many people’s hearts and so, so many say they have no one to turn to, for after all, “What is a Secular Lubavitcher to do?”
And of course it’s not only a Chabad issue. One Charedi father of six writes me about how he and his family were always Orthodox and he looks and acts it too. He has a good marriage, a good job, and lives in a good Charedi community. But – he does not pray or wear tefillin. He thinks G-d neither notices nor cares.
Countless teens and young adults in the community where I live feel exactly the same way. What can be done?
Someone told me, “We are so busy reaching out, we forget about our own kids, the youth of our own communities. We have to treat them exactly like Chabad House clientele, with love, warmth, basics, and acceptance.”
I am confused. Call it Baal Teshuvah syndrome if you wish but I really don’t understand these people. Yes, I have plenty of failings of my own and plenty of times when I forget about Hashem, but my basic attitude is I’m looking for a way in, I want to get that 51%, that little taste of infinity as I try to climb that ladder.
Whenever I’m confused about something, I go back to basics. I feel that by going back to basics I will be able to find the common ground that will bridge the gap between the Baal Teshuvah and the lifer. We can and will understand each other if we try. And through that understanding we will share a will to grow.
Some of the basics we need to explore are:
- Is there a G-d?
- How do we know?
- And why the Jewish G-d specifically?
- Does He know and care about what we do?
- Why?
- Isn’t He awfully Big to worry about how I spend my time?
- Why should I pray?
- What is prayer about anyway?
- If He is perfect why does He need our prayers?
- And how do imperfect rabbis represent a perfect G-d?
We need to be able to answer these questions for outsiders, but now even more urgently, for insiders. And deeper yet, for ourselves. Because at the end of the day, the more truthfully and inwardly we take our Torah and mitzvos, the more it will rub off on those around us.
The next few articles in this series will, G-d willing, deal with these questions, and they are dedicated to those who ask them whether explicitly or implicitly.
We will try to recreate the E-lokeinu, like Avraham Avinu did – one lone individual trying to figure things out his own way regardless of what those around him believed.
The series of articles is called “The Abraham Principle” and I hope you find them as meaningful to read as I have found them meaningful to write.
Good Shabbos.