What the Frierdiker Rebbe Faced in the Early Days

Historic Treasures — Episode 293: "What the Frierdiker Rebbe Faced in the Early Days"

Welcome to our weekly Motzaei Shabbos Chabad program. Over the last two weeks, in two programs, we spoke about our Rebbe. And last week we spoke more about our Rebbe. So today I want to share with you — we're still in Shevat, and today is a Yahrzeit. We spoke last week about Yud Shevat, Yud Shevat, and our Yahrzeit. So I want to say something that I heard from Rabbi Mindel about the Frierdiker Rebbe.

I mentioned a few weeks ago that the Frierdiker Rebbe came to America in 1940 to settle here. He was first here in 1929. He came before, and he went back, but in 1940 he came to settle here.

Now, on that boat that he came on with eleven people — I'm not going to mention it again because I mentioned it a few weeks ago — was also the Frierdiker Rebbe's mother. The Frierdiker Rebbe was not well. The Frierdiker Rebbe came to America, as he said, to break the ice of America's "kalt" — America's coldness. And I'll read you something soon. "Kalt" — you know, in America people think when they say "oh, he's a cool guy," that "cool" is a good thing. "Cool" is the opposite of "kalt," which means coldness, apathy. And he came to break the ice of America's "kalt." The Frierdiker Rebbe had no money — you know, the Rebbe Maharash had money; the Frierdiker Rebbe did not have anything. He went through things that — I don't think any rabbi went through what the Frierdiker Rebbe went through.

And at the boat, his mother started to cry, looking at her son, and she says — "He's coming to America, he's coming to build Yiddishkeit, and nothing [unclear]... give him [unclear]."

America was called, in America, [unclear]. So he came to the Greystone Hotel. Rabbi [unclear] was there, Rabbi Raind[?] was there, with the eleven people, but I'm not going to go into that.

So there were a few people who were well-to-do — the Kramer brothers, and a few others — and they saw that the Frierdiker Rebbe wasn't well. They said, "Let's help him, let's make a fundraiser" — a melaveh malkah. This was a shul that used to be Rabbi Young's. There's a whole parsha about Rabbi Young which I don't want to get into today — there's a whole set of letters about Rabbi Young — but that was Rabbi Young's shul in Manhattan.

So they made a melaveh malkah, and they gathered some people, and the Rebbe was in a wheelchair. So after Shabbos they wheeled him to their melaveh malkah. They got ready — he was on the chair in the kitchen, and the people got ready for the melaveh malkah.

Then they called over Rabbi Mindel and told him, "You can wheel him in, we're ready. Here is our schedule" — there's a piece of paper — who's going, who's the speaker, what they're going to do, first, second, third.

So Rabbi Mindel took the piece of paper, went to the kitchen, told the Rebbe that they were all ready, and gave him the piece of paper. So the Frierdiker Rebbe told him, "Read what they wrote." The first thing was that they were going to sing a Zionist song. I don't know exactly what song it was, but it was a Zionist song.

So the Rebbe stopped him and said, "Tell them that they're not going to sing that song." Imagine — not going to sing! I mean, here they're helping out the Rebbe, and the Rebbe is telling them what to do. By them, before they would begin their program, this was their custom [minhag].

So he went to the people and told them what the Rebbe said. They were shocked. "What?!" They got together, a few people, and said to Rabbi Mindel, "Tell the Rebbe, if we're not going to sing the song, we're going to walk out." This was very important to them. This was in 1940, a few weeks — a few months after his arrival. I'm not sure exactly when the melaveh malkah at Rabbi Young's was.

So he went to the Rebbe and told him that they said they'd walk out. So the Frierdiker Rebbe told him, "Tell them: in America, just like G-d was with us in Europe, G-d will be with us in America." No to the Zionist song, again.

He went to the people and told them what the Rebbe said, but the song — they can't sing it. No Zionist song, no Zionist song. What happened? Most of the people put their coats on and walked out. Some people stayed.

So he went back to the Rebbe and told him some stayed, and they said, "Okay, fine." So they wheeled him to the melaveh malkah. They didn't have too many people, and they didn't have too much money. They had some, but most of the people walked out, you know.

Anyway, so the few people who were left — there was Stillman, there were the Kramer brothers, there were a few others — but there were not too many. From these people, Chabad — 770 — began, later on. As a matter of fact, they went to visit 770 and they saw things that they didn't like, but I don't want to go into it. But from these people, that's one of the first givers — a giver to 770. But from these few people, for the Frierdiker Rebbe it was unbelievable. I have it written down, from Rabbi Mindel, over here.

So today I want to say that in 1952 or '53, they honored — I don't know whether it was the Lubavitcher Yeshiva, or it was NCFJE, or — I'm not sure who it was — they honored Rabbi Meir Greenberg. Rabbi Meir Greenberg was a big [unclear — possibly "talmid chacham"], and he was one of the students that the Frierdiker Rebbe, in the '40s, sent to Poland to learn.

So they honored him — I can't recall exactly why him, or what dinner it was, I can't recall. So at the dinner, the Rebbe said to Rabbi Mindel that he should introduce Rabbi Greenberg at that dinner, and he asked Rabbi Mindel to write down what he was going to say — how he was going to introduce him.

So he wrote it down and showed it to the Rebbe. This has to do with a phrase that comes up later — that's why I'm mentioning it today. And you know, as whenever Rabbi Mindel spoke — many times, at different venues — I think he's the only one for whom the Rebbe made hagahos, made notations on it.

So he wrote it down and showed it to the Rebbe. What did he say? Now I'm going to read what he wrote. This is the introduction:

"The late Rebbe, of saintly memory, when he visited the United States of America for the first time, in 1929..."

You know, before that, in 1929, he was in Eretz Yisroel, and then he left on the boat coming here. While he was on the boat, a few days after he left, there was a massacre — a terrible massacre — the Arabs killed people, chopped off heads — it was a terrible massacre. And by the way, as an aside, when he heard about the massacre, he got sick — very sick — and they rushed to look for a doctor on the boat, and they found one doctor. His name was Dr. Vak[?]. He was a Yekke. He was a frum doctor. He was, I think, a doctor in [unclear] in Yerushalayim, I think. I'm not sure, but he was a doctor in Israel.

He was on the boat. So they told him, "Please come to the Rebbe, the Rebbe is not well." He ran to the Rebbe and gave him — whatever he gave him, a shot, he gave him something — and he started to cry, and he said to the Rebbe, he cried, he said, "I'm sorry that I am on the boat, because it is said that [Hashem] does not bring the cure before the makkah [the affliction]. If I wouldn't have been on this boat, you wouldn't have gotten sick." So he was sorry that he was on the boat — he asked forgiveness for being on the boat.

This is so — he writes, I'll continue:

"When he came to America, he was asked, upon his return the first time, in 1929, what he thought about the future of American Yiddishkeit, American Jewry" — because after that, the Frierdiker Rebbe went back to Europe, of course. What did he think about American Jewry?

"I need hardly add," he says, "that at that time, at any rate, American Jewry was generally viewed with a great deal of pessimism. Visitors returning from America were almost unanimous in their verdict that, as far as Yiddishkeit is concerned, America was a valley of dead dry bones."

That's how Rabbi Mindel wrote it down. So here, the Rebbe saw that, and he erased the word "dead," and he underlined "dry bones."

Now, as an aside — I don't know if we have much time — it's important to mention here that Rabbi Mindel wrote down here, and I'll mention it, even though it has nothing to do with this, but I will mention it: when he said the word "dry bones," the Rebbe turned to Rabbi Mindel and said to him — this is written from him — the Rebbe told him that before the Frierdiker Rebbe came to America — meaning '29, I guess, or maybe 1940, I don't know — by them, they were lacking [unclear]. This is what he heard, the Rebbe was telling him, that [unclear], or the Frierdiker Rebbe told him this — meaning: this is from the Frierdiker Rebbe — it means, and it means a niggun, and that's called [unclear], and when he came, he opened it up. I'm just reading what he wrote here.

Then Rabbi Mindel explains — this is not from the Rebbe, but his own explanation — he explains here what it means, I think that's his explanation: a niggun speaks to a person; a person feels something; when there's a niggun, he feels something. A song with words is a problem — words are superficial, meant to deal with the mind, whereas with a niggun we should deal with the heart. In other words, sometimes — you know — it's important, because you don't just say "sing," you say [niggun]. That's Rabbi Mindel's explanation of what the Rebbe meant — the Rebbe didn't say this explanation himself.

He writes over here — I don't know if it was every time, and I heard it said about another one too — but he writes about this also: that afterward — something that happened, that he saw once, or maybe it was all the time, I don't know — his daughter, Rashag's wife, helped him take off his kapote and his shirt and his undershirt, and in taking off the undershirt she squeezed it — it was sweaty, wet with sweat. So she asked him, "Why are you wet? Why are you sweating so much? You're not running, you're not excited, you're sitting — people come in, people come out — why is it so?"

So the Rebbe said: when a person comes in, we have to "dress" ourselves in that person — meaning, when a person walks in, that's all he knows, is that person; he dresses himself into that person. That's all. Then, when that person walks out with his problems, I guess, and another person walks in, he has to undress himself from that person and dress himself into the other person. That's why he's sweating — that took a lot out of him. That's what he answered.

So I guess this is what Chassidus says — he says that speech is higher than [thought], because by speaking you develop [the feeling]. So this is what he writes here.

So why am I saying this? It has nothing to do with the letter, but what I'm saying here is — because he mentioned it by "dead bones" — he erased the word "dead."

Now let me continue what he wrote here:

"So, when the Frierdiker Rebbe was asked what he thought of American Jewry, he replied" — this was part of the introduction — "that he wished to study the notes and impressions which he had brought back with him. Subsequently, he declared, to everybody's surprise, that he was quite optimistic about American Jewry. He explained that he was greatly impressed with the quality of temimus — wholesomeness of heart — and sincerity of the Jewish youth in America."

When he came here the first time, he knew what America was then, but he was surprised, and he was impressed.

The Frierdiker Rebbe once told Rabbi Mindel, as an aside — just came to mind — "remember that America is like a bottle of soda," and he said the words "a bottle of soda," he opened it, as — that's what he mentioned to him. So, I don't know — so this is the "wholesomeness":

"If Jewish youth in Europe excelled in the realm of mind and intellect — because these yeshivos then were flourishing — Jewish youth in America excelled in the realm of heart. They were temimusdik, sincere, honest, open-minded, and receptive." This is how Mindel writes: "the [Torah] demands you shall be wholehearted with [Hashem] — when there is such temimus, there are great prospects; it is fertile soil also for scholarship. The perfect blending of the heart and mind is the cornerstone of the Chabad philosophy, the way of life.

"A decade later, in the 1940s," he writes, "when Divine Providence brought the Rebbe to these shores — this time not as a visitor, but as an immigrant and a refugee — he knew that the time had come for him to implement his confidence in American Jewry, the Jewish youth. His optimism appeared naive to many a well-meaning, but under this illusion — even his own followers in this country, even they, cautioned him not to expect too much, so as not to be overly disappointed. They were seriously concerned about his frail health, which clearly showed the scars of two world wars and the Communist regime. He brushed aside their concern, as their skepticism; openly denounced the defeatist attitude which had too long paralyzed Jewish life in America; and with unbounded determination and nefesh, set out on the far-reaching program designed to breathe life into the so-called lifeless bones.

"That's how he wrote: the Rebbe's confidence in American Jewry was justified. There can now be no doubt — like the scoffers who came to mock but stayed to pray — many of the skeptics became ardent supporters. Others began to emulate the Lubavitch approach. The face of American Jewry looks quite different now from when it looked twenty years ago, in '29. Wherein lies the secret of the Lubavitch appeal and success? Our distinguished Lubavitch representative will now, no doubt, enlighten us."

This was for Rabbi Meir Greenberg — "he can speak to us, from his own experience, as to whether the goal which the Frierdiker Rebbe envisioned for Jewish youth in America has been fulfilled."

And then he continued speaking about Rabbi Greenberg. And Rabbi Greenberg — the Rebbe wanted to see it, and this is what he wrote.

I mean, how the Frierdiker Rebbe thought the first time — what the Frierdiker Rebbe thought when he came to America — now, when he came to America, maybe I have no time today, but I will tell you what the Frierdiker Rebbe thought about America: on one hand, the mystical [optimism]; on the other hand, he was very strong and sharp about the Shabbos observance of America. And I want to bring you a few stories here, but we have no time. Next week we'll continue our weekly program.

Thank you.