Between 1813 and 1915, Chabad Chassidim lived in the town of
Lubavitch, in what was then called 'White Russia'.
Despite the Czars' anti-semitism, the Jews' societal
disenfranchisement and the pervasive poverty, the Chabad community
developed a very sturdy spiritual world.
Lubavitch probably looked needy from the outside, but it was firmly
secure on the inside.
These people were firmly in touch with themselves, with destiny and
their place in the world.
Lubavitch had a spiritually idyllic soul, housed in an uncomfortable
body (material situation).
This spiritually-grounded community was rudely jolted by the physical
dangers of World War I, followed by the ruthless cruelty of the
Bolshevik revolution.
In 1915, the fifth Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Sholom Dovber, felt that
the community needed to protect itself by moving away from the War's
front lines. They sadly uprooted themselves from their beloved home
town and moved to Rostov, on the Don river (within days of their move,
the Rebbe's house in Lubavitch burned to the ground).
Despite their extreme poverty, they managed to buy a small compound.
This had barely enough space to house the Rebbe's family, a synagogue
and the Yeshiva (an academy of Higher Learning which the Rebbe had
founded and was very dear to his heart), called Tomchei Temimim.
They began to settle in. But not for long.
In early 1920, the Bolsheviks captured Rostov. Any gatherings of three
or more people needed a special permit and they began to cruelly
persecute the Jewish community.
As I was growing up, my father would tell me how the ailing Rebbe
defied the Bolsheviks by holding a public Purim feast that year. He
sat with his community in serenity and joy, as the Bolsheviks - who
had burst into his home by force - watched in awe, and ultimately took
heel to leave these Chassidim alone.
The Rebbe, who had devoted his life to expounding the depth of Torah
thought, to teaching and guiding his people, soon passed away; a few
weeks after Purim in 1920.
On the second of Nissan, he peacefully returned his soul to his Maker
as he lay in his study (Kabinet in Russian).
In his final moments he said "I'm going to Heaven, and I leave you my
writings. Take me (my writings) into the Study Hall and we will be
together".
This past Shabbat, I prayed in that Kabinet. I immersed myself in the
Rebbe's Mikvah (ritualarium), slept in the Rebbe's compound, and
immersed myself in the Rebbe's writings.
I also visited the Rebbe's grave on Friday and Sunday mornings;
because the Rebbe's soul still pulsates in the world, wherever we let
it in, and I wanted a frontal embrace at his gravesite.
I had an inspiring taste of Rostov, which is ultimately a revealing
insight into Chabad's soul, so I thought I'd share....
ב"ה