Loving A Yid That You Don’t Know

The Story of Chabad in America: Loving a Yid That You Don't Know

Welcome to our weekly program, The Story of Chabad in America through the Mindel Archives. Last week's program we learned—we spoke about Yitzchak, we spoke about Rivka—the love that everybody should have to every Yid, that every soul is important, how every person is important. And by the way, before you listen to this program, I think you should, if you didn't hear last week's program, listen to it, because this is like a continuation (hemshech) of it.

So the question is: how can a person love another Yid when he doesn't even know him? I know it says in Tanya that you have to love somebody, but a person asks, "I don't know the person—maybe I don't love him." How can we bring ourselves to this love?

So I found in the archives of my father-in-law that it says there, that ahavah, love, comes from the word "hav." Hav means "give." When we give something to somebody, automatically there is a love. There are four types of love. There is a love between husband and wife—this is one level of love. Then there is an ahavah between a parent and a child. Then there is an ahavah between two friends. And then there is an ahavah between a Yid and the Eibershter.

Now, the ahavah between a husband and wife we know—and as a matter of fact, if you look in the invitation that the Frierdiker Rebbe sent, that we all send for a wedding, we have four paragraphs. The first paragraph begins with an Aleph, the second with a Hey, the third with a Beis, and the fourth with a Hey—spelling "Ahavah." Some have all different invitations in the world, but this is the pashut (simple) ahavah. This is the ahavah between ish l'ishto, husband and wife.

Then there is another ahavah between a parent and a child. That's already a more atzmi'usdike ahavah—you can't explain it. A parent loves the child, any child. But the ahavah between two friends—this is something, how do you explain that? Even the ahavah between a Yid and the Eibershter we can explain—a person sees that the Eibershter gives him whatever he needs, so that we understand. But between two people?

But "hav"—when you give somebody something, automatically you have it. So whether you give something in gashmiyus—you give somebody tzedakah, or you do a gemilas chesed—or even in ruchniyus, you teach somebody something, he appreciates what you do, or you help somebody, you're a giver, or even if he sees that you care about him—that brings an ahavah. Even when you pass by on Shabbos and you tell somebody "good Shabbos," there is already a certain connection. You have to give—hav—that's when the love will come.

And as we say—I heard a vort—at the end of Shemoneh Esrei we say, when you want to make peace, go back a little, give in a little, then there will be peace, and the other person will see that you're giving in, that you're giving. And that's why, of course, we know the word "v'nosnu" that we say in the Torah—if you write "v'nosnu" backwards, it reads the same both ways. When you give, you'll always get back, aside from the Eibershter, and aside from people.

So this is the ahavas Yisroel—that a person should always know that he should always be a giver. So when we go out and we are mekarev people, we're always careful. A person that is not shomer Shabbos—we're not going to tell him right away, "you know, you're chayav misah, you get the death penalty if you desecrate the Shabbos." We don't allow to do that. Otherwise, he'll never become a shomer Shabbos. First you teach him about Shabbos, and later on you can teach him the halachos.

The same thing also when we have to talk to our own people—not people that are not religious, but even religious people—sometimes we have to be very careful how we say things.

Why am I saying this now, before Rosh Hashanah? And as a matter of fact, I'm saying it because somebody asked me if I can mention this. So that's why I'm doing it. Unfortunately, there are some—and I'm saying some—that they call themselves Chabad chassidim, and they trim their beards, or they shave, and the clothes are not the way a Chabadnik should wear the clothes. This is not the way a chossid should dress.

We know that in Russia, chassidim used to be moser nefesh on a beard. I remember my father told me that when he used to go outside in Russia, he put a towel around his face so he should cover his beard, and if people would stop him, he would say he has a toothache. Otherwise, he would probably be in prison for years. A beard is called the tzelem Elokim. And the Rebbe writes many letters—many letters I have—but I chose one letter, where the Rebbe, in his own handwriting, wrote a few things. The Rebbe saw a Chabadnik that trimmed his beard or took off his beard, and he said, "You took off the tzelem Elokim."

And it says somewhere—this is very, very important—that the Nazis didn't care if you take a picture of the way they killed a Yid, Hashem yerachem, but they specifically wanted a picture to be taken of two things: the way they tore Sifrei Torah, and the way they cut the beard of a Yid. Because a beard is a tzelem Elokim. And this is something, before Rosh Hashanah, I think some people should take to heart. Otherwise, if not, why are you Chabad? A beard is a very important thing.

Also, when a child—we read in the Rebbe's letter, the Rebbe's letter says to leave payos, to wear tzitzis. A child, when the child becomes ten or eleven or twelve years old, the mother sends him to the barber, and she says to him, "Go and take a Caesar haircut," or "Go and take a number six haircut," or "number eight haircut." Why? We're Chabad—we're supposed to—one of the reasons that we went out of Mitzrayim is [because we did not change our dress].

Buttoning a jacket—clothes—very important. I saw in Jem [JEM] a while ago, somebody passed out dollars, and he had buttoned left over right, from left and right. The Rebbe says you have to button right over left—it's a segulah for parnassah. So this is very important.

So before Rosh Hashanah I wanted to mention this—I was asked to mention these things—and I want to end off: we should have a good year, that we are, that we are chassidim, that we are chassidishe Chabad, and we should look like a chossid of Chabad. And all the brochos from aleph to tof, we should do the right thing for the right reason, and we should have a year of no politics. As the Frierdiker Rebbe told Rabbi Avraham Sender: you search for the truth, you found the truth, and you live with the truth.

So we should have a hatzlocha, gezunt, parnassah, a freilichen yontif, a gezunten yontif, and a freilichen yontif. A gut yontif.