Gimmel Tamuz

The Rebbe was always important to me, even before I chose to go to yeshiva and become a rabbi.  I was born with a miraculous blessing from the Rebbe.  At the same time, I wasn't part of the 770 scene in the early 90's, and didn't understand the intense emotion that people experienced on Gimmel Tammuz (the day of the Rebbe's passing, which we're marking today).

I remember attending farbrengens on this day, watching elder Chassidim cry about how abandoned they felt, how they can't continue alone and how much they want to see the Rebbe.  "We can't continue without Moshiach.  Moshiach must come now!" is what they declared.  My first reaction was probably feelings of inadequacy.  Why was I so numb to the disaster that had occurred?  Why wasn't I bothered like they were?

As I matured and learned more of the Rebbe's teachings, I felt empowered to know that any one person could bring Moshiach, if they only want it enough.  Maybe it will be me, I thought.  Then these thoughts of inadequacy resurfaced.  If the tears of these holy people, who were so sensitive to not having a Rebbe that we can see with our own eyes didn't bring Moshiach, how could a little kid like me be the one?  

My conclusion however, was that it can still be me, and on that token, it can still be you.  With all their sincerity, these tears were not enough to bring Moshiach.  Apparently, the world still can run without Moshiach, even 27 years after the Rebbe's passing.  However, I still owe them gratitude, for if I hadn't witnessed their tears, I would still think Gimmel Tammuz was just another special day on the calendar, like the Alter Rebbe or Previous Rebbe's Yahrzeit.  

Their tears were not misplaced, but they may still have been missing something.  In his last teaching, the Rebbe made it clear that Moshiach will come when we're bothered by the mere existence of golus (exile).  Crying out from the pain of a pogrom soars to the heavens, but it won't bring Moshiach.  The tears of losing your Rebbe are pure and holy, but that won't finish the job.  Declaring that we can't continue without Moshiach is powerful, but it's not enough.  When we, on our own volition, are fed up with the façade this world projects and reject it, that's when Moshiach will come.  When we realize that life can continue nicely without a Moshiach, and nevertheless sincerely demand that Hashem bring Moshiach now, that will do the trick.

Here's an example of the façade of golus:  A few weeks ago, we watched a video, and the Rebbe was speaking about making a livelihood.  In the desert, the Jewish people ate "manna", bread from heaven.  The Rebbe taught that G-d sustains us today exactly like in the desert, only that His blessing is hidden behind the veil of work.  Our bread is also bread from heaven, however He fools us into thinking that we earned it on our own, and that without our work and worry, we'd go hungry.  This is the façade of golus. 

When we're bothered by this untruth that our eyes see, that's when Moshiach will come.  When we cry, not from the pain of hunger, but from the pain of an abundance that seems independent of G-d, those are the tears and pain that will catapult the world into the messianic era.

Maybe it will be me, and maybe it will be you, but I resolve to continue learning about Moshiach until the point that I actually start caring about it for its own sake.

If you've read this far, I recommend that you take a minute or two to write an email to the Rebbe, which will be printed and put on top of his grave.  You can ask for personal blessings, family blessings or business blessings.  You can tell the Rebbe about something good you've done, or something good you want to start doing.  Please send an email to ohel@ohelchabad.org and refer to yourself with your Jewish name, son/daughter of your mothers Jewish name (father's name for gentiles).