Stability in Turbulent Times
A great Jewish philosopher, Rabbi Shlomo ben Gabirol, who authored a book of proverbs, was known to have stated, "A question asked by a wise man is half of an answer." Applying this principle to our present era, we can attempt an answer the following question: How is it possible to be stable in a turbulent society?
One way we can deal with this question is to understand what turbulence and stability are all about. When we turn to a dictionary for a true definition of the word "turbulence," we find the simplest meaning is confusion. For example, an era of turbulence means a time of confusion. On the other side of the coin, the word "stability" means firmness or the ability to withstand outside forces without change.
The generation of the 90s has an air of turbulence; and, yet, at the same time, we find opportunities for stability. In the Soviet Union with many Jewish people now trying to leave the country, this condition is apparent. Feelings of political unrest and the government's uncertainty have panicked the people. Some are using this time of turbulence to make their personal escape, while others remain paralyzed not knowing what to do. The Soviet Union, a country rooted in a history of despotically imposed stability, is now wracked with a turbulence and confusion so great that the country is in crisis.
The Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi M.M. Schneerson, world leader of Chabad Jewry, has used the Soviet turbulence as an opportunity to re3tabilize Judaism. Instead of telling the Jewish people to run from Russia as quickly as possible, the Lubavitcher Rebbe sends emissaries to organize youth groups, camps and Yeshivas in the cities. Those Soviet Jews who stay have developed strong needs for Torah and Jewish education.
Just last week I was told of a phone call from a young 17-year-old American girl who called her mother from the Soviet Union. She traveled from Brooklyn, New York, with 12 other girls, to run a camp for 120 girls in a city outside Moscow.
Their plans for a fun-filled summer took a turn when the Soviet children requested less play and more opportunity to study with the Americans. The counselors who came from America to help organize a Russian girls camp now have become their teachers and big sisters for Torah and spiritual growth.
I remember in the 60s when Rabbi Levin, the chief rabbi of Russia, came to visit America. Rabbi Levin was escorted by a personal servant, a known informer, whose job it was to report if Rabbi Levin spoke against the government. So, in a sense, Rabbi Levin was hostage. Near the end of his U.S. visit at a news conference one of the American religious leaders asked Rabbi Levin if there was persecution and religious intolerance in the Soviet Union. Rabbi Levin said there was no extraordinary anti-religious action by the Soviets nor was he aware of any official anti-semitism. American leaders continued to harass and question him about Yeshiva attendance in Russia. Rabbi Levin said there are Yeshivas that accept students, however, there is little interest and the census is low. When the interviewer remarked that Rabbi Levin was not telling the truth, Rabbi Levin turned around and asked the American rabbi, "How is it that in America which is the land of freedom and stability, Yeshivas are not filled to capacity? After all, if America has 5 million people who are Jewish, there should be hundreds and hundreds of thousands of day schools." Of course, the interview was quickly ended.
How ironic that in America, a stable society, we have religious turbulence and confusion, but in the Soviet Union, a nation marked by turbulence, Jewish people are finding stability and meaning in their Yiddishkeit.
Currently we see much turbulence and change, and the Lubavitcher Rebbe instructs us to use this as an opportunity to stabilize things that have not been stable for awhile. In the Soviet Union we bring Yiddishkeit by re-establishing Jewish schools and study halls. Here in America whenever there is unrest and unhappiness we use the opportunity to teach the seven Noahidic Laws which are the prohibition of idolatry, blasphemy, homicide, incest, robbery, eating the limb of a living animal and providing the institution of courts of justice.
These laws instruct the people to make this world a better and kinder place to live.
The Lubavitcher Rebbe points out that the three weeks of unhappiness which culminated with the solemn observance of the fast day, Tisha B'Av, acted as a stabilizing lesson that G‑d only destroys the building but never the people inside. A king who would get angry at his subjects would destroy the people and keep the property while the Almighty destroyed his won home in order to preserve the people. Such are the thoughts that the Lubavitcher Rebbe wants to impress upon us.
I would like to conclude with a famous Chassidic story. One day the Chassid asked the town fool, "Why don't you get married and have children, start a family and live like other people?" The fool said, "If you think that I have to have children, it's no problem. I will go visit my Rebbe. He'll give me a blessing and I will have children." The Chassid was so amazed at the absurdity. Could a Rebbe give a brocha for children if there is no wife? When the Chassid thought it over he called together the younger Chassidim and related the story. "Sure, the Rebbe could give a blessing that we can have children but that's only if you have the vessel. If you're not married, the, indeed, you are a fool to think that you can have a blessing for children."
The lesson, my friend, is obvious. If we wish to have G‑d's blessings for stability, then we must have the vessels. We must use our turbulent times to turn ourselves into the vessel that will establish the firmness and stabilization of a Jewish self. Strange as it seems, turbulence can be a pathway for stability.
