R’ Sholom and Penina Rotenbord have been on shlichus in the Beit Eliezer neighborhood in Chadera, working with Russian immigrants. They started out small and have grown into an impressive community. All along the way they have experienced miracles and amazing answers from the Rebbe. * The miracles did not start at this stage, but back when R’ Sholom’s parents waged a bitter extended battle with the KGB who threatened to swallow them alive.
It is fifteen years since R’ Sholom and Penina Rotenbord began working with Russian immigrants in the Beit Eliezer neighborhood of Chadera, and much has changed since then. Their work has expanded to the entire city. They have established a shul, a mikva, shiurim, and farbrengens. “Hundreds of people take part in every program we do.”
R’ Rotenbord is the kind of shliach who doesn’t rest on his laurels. As soon as he completes one project, he is on to the next one. He and his wife have transformed many families in the neighborhood.
The Rotenbord family was one of the few families in Chernovitz that kept Judaism alive under Soviet rule. “I learned from personal experience that when you go with uncompromising truth, you are successful.”
The Rotenbords implement this approach in their shlichus, which is done with lots of love and smiles, albeit without compromising on anything having to do with Torah, mitzvos, or horaos of the Rebbe. They see this as the secret to their success.
“People expect and want to hear the truth. We talk about Moshiach’s identity and proclaim ‘Yechi’ and have never seen it turn anyone off; on the contrary.”
LIVING IN FEAR BEHIND THE IRON CURTAIN
The Rotenbord family was originally Tolna Chassidim. The grandfather was the Baal Koreh for the tzaddik, Rabbi Dovid of Tolna. Despite the evil winds of communism that blew throughout the Soviet Union and caused numerous Jews to drop religious life, the Rotenbords held strong and bequeathed their heritage to their children.
“I was born in 5732 in Chernovitz, where our family ended up at the end of World War II. There were many Jews in the city, but sadly, we were one of the few families that were religious. This made day-to-day living very hard.
“There was no kosher meat available locally, and only rarely did we manage to get kosher meat from the big cities, mainly from Leningrad. In the summer it wasn’t possible to transport meat because of the great distance, but in the winter cold a two-day trip by train did not cause any spoilage to the meat.
“We did not suffer from anti-Semitism in school; we were greatly respected. Out of thirty children in class, there were seven Jews. Only one made the effort to hide his Jewish identity, and he was the only one who suffered teasing. However, the persecution on the part of the government was nonstop.
“Our family’s connection with Chabad began when I was ten, when my parents realized there were many other religious Jews in Russia who were mainly Lubavitchers. They were concentrated mainly in secret Chassidic communities in Moscow and Leningrad. Shluchim from Ezras Achim occasionally visited these cities in the guise of tourists, and the locals received many s’farim and Jewish items from them. During summer vacation, I would travel to join the secret yeshivos they founded. I was often the guest of Rabbi Yitzchok Kogan who was known as the tzaddik of Leningrad.
“In Moscow I met Rabbi Grisha Rosenstein z”l, the one who connected all the Chassidim to the Rebbe. There was also Alexander Lokatzky of the Marina Roscha shul. Those Chassidim connected us to Chabad Chassidus and to the Rebbe and from that point on, we became the source for all Jewish things for the Jews of Chernovitz. My parents began holding Shabbos meals for groups of guests in order to be mekarev them, and minyanim on Yomim Tovim. I remember the communal s’darim and the communal sukka my parents built. Lubavitcher Chassidim sent us matzos and Jewish religious items.
“The fear was still great, not as much as in the years before the death of Stalin, but KGB agents still regularly visited our house and occasionally took my father for interrogations. They did not come in secret, but knocked at the door in broad daylight and began asking my father questions. When they wanted to delve deeper, they asked my father to accompany them to headquarters. As a child, this was traumatic for me, since in the Russia of those days, the fact that they took your father for interrogation meant you did not know whether he would return or in what condition. But my father was strong and had a great influence on us and implanted emuna and bitachon within us.”
BITTER FIGHT: ONE FAMILY AGAINST THE KGB
The battle with the authorities was mainly over their children’s education. R’ Sholom’s father refused to allow his children to attend school on Shabbos. For several years, he would procure medical documents every Shabbos and his children stayed home. In Chernovitz there were hardly any other religious Jews, and everyone went to school on Shabbos so the authorities did not notice their absence. Then one day, the KGB caught on and forbade all family practitioners in the city from providing the Rotenbord children with absence notes for Shabbos, even if the reason was justified. The family discovered this when they went to a Jewish doctor and asked him for a note as they did every week.
“To our surprise, he refused. When he saw that my father was taken aback, he motioned to accompany him outside the clinic, in fear that the KGB had planted eavesdropping devices in his room. He told my father that KGB agents had visited all the doctors in the city and forbade them from providing the Rotenbord children with sick notes.
“A period of serious problems with the government began. We could manage with keeping the mitzvos at home, but not showing up at school on Shabbos was considered an attack against the government. The government had the authority to remove us from our families.
“We still stayed home on Shabbos, although without the fictitious notes, and this was dangerous. The school administration and the KGB threatened my parents that they would take their children away. They were informed of the severity of their crime, but my parents were strong and did not break. We, who were old enough by then, learned from them to stand up firmly for our principles.
“At the same time, the school administration and teachers were giving us a hard time. Every few days, the principal would call me to her office and explain how serious this was and that primitive religions no longer existed in the world. She used fear tactics such as saying we wouldn’t see our parents any more and that we brothers and sisters would be separated. She tried to extract declarations from me about how we wanted to go to school and our non-attendance was because of my parents. She wanted them to be blamed, but we were used to this and knew how to respond and when to remain quiet.
“The teacher would open her attendance book and go through all the dates that I had not attended and tell all the children in class why I hadn’t come. This was meant to shame me and to exert peer pressure on me. I remember a lesson in which the teacher wanted to explain the meaning of the word primitive, and she pointed at me as an example of someone who came from a primitive family.
“One day, everything changed. Although the legal process to remove us from our parents was ongoing, the persecution on the part of the school stopped. It was a miracle from the Rebbe. It was three years after Lag B’Omer 5740/1980 when we received recordings of the three sichos the Rebbe said in Russian during the parade and in several farbrengens afterward. Along with the recordings, the shluchim also brought a small tape recorder. I was thirteen at the time. My parents and I and my brothers already knew about the greatness of the Rebbe. We were very excited and we gathered in the living room to listen to the sichos. What I remember is the line the Rebbe said that a Jewish child who wants to learn about Judaism should not be obstructed. If someone stands in his way, he is a criminal who operates against the law and the legal system and ought to be punished. That is what I remember of what the Rebbe said; probably because that was precisely the situation I was in at the time.
“A few days later, I was called into the principal’s office. Once again, she began explaining how hard it would be for me to manage in Russia as a religious person lacking higher education. I don’t know where I got the courage from, but I got up and began repeating what the Rebbe said, word by word. ‘You speak about religious freedom in Russia, you are a criminal … Russian law states that it is illegal to discriminate against anyone because of nationality or religion.’
“Anyone who lived in Russia in those days understands what nerve it took to say this to the principal, a member of the communist party. The reality was though, that after our conversation, she asked me to return to class and from then on the persecution stopped. The truth in the Rebbe’s words had apparently subdued the spirit of impurity.”
LEAVING RUSSIA
The legal process against his parents continued, but never again did anyone speak to the children about their absences on Shabbos.
“The school administration left us alone, but the KGB did not. They tried to investigate us and kept constant tabs on us. One time, two agents dressed as religious Jews came and said they were sent from Moscow to be our guests because they had heard that we had a Seder. My mother immediately understood who they were and chased them out. That is when they removed their disguises and took out their badges.
“Another time, two young men, Jewish Mizrachi students from London, came to our house. They were adventurous and wanted to see how a Jewish family lived religiously under communist rule. They brought a tallis, yarmulkes, and other Jewish items. They took an interest in us and spoke about the freedom of religion they had in England. It was exciting to hear about Jewish life outside of Russia while we, a single family, fought for our survival.
“Then one of them offhandedly said that he wore his yarmulke in shul and in the Jewish neighborhood, but when he went to university he took it off. I was bar mitzva age at the time and I protested: What?! In a free country you are afraid? I live among gentiles in a closed country and the practice here is that when you enter a building you remove your hat as a sign of respect. If you don’t remove your hat, it indicates that you have no respect for the place and people will look askance at you. Nevertheless, I don’t take my head covering off, so why do you take off yours?
“Two years later, in 5747, we received permission to leave Russia. For a few years already, a criminal investigation had been underway but no action against us had yet been taken. My parents had requested to leave Russia several times and were turned down. Each request is answered within six months, whether positive or negative. The still hadn’t yet received a response for their last application, and the end of the half a year was going to coincide with the end of vacation.
“Before I left for Moscow in order to learn with Chabad Chassidim, my father said that in the event that we did not receive permission to emigrate, I should not return to Chernovitz, because the government had decided to remove the children from the house with the excuse of improper education. Then the miracle occurred. A few days before the opening of the criminal case, we suddenly received permission to emigrate.
“When we arrived in Eretz Yisroel, we settled in Yerushalayim. A few months later, on Purim, I was walking with my father to give out mishloach manos, enjoying the freedom, when a young man called out to us. We turned around and did not know who he was. He was wearing a suit, a hat, and had a beard. My father and I tried to recall who he could be but were unsuccessful. ‘Don’t you remember me? I was one of the English guys from B’nei Akiva who visited you in Chernovitz.’
“We were astounded. Back then, he had been without a beard and was ashamed of his kippa, and now he looked completely different! He saw how surprised we were and he said that upon his return home, he thought about how we did not compromise despite the difficult circumstances we were in, while he and his buddies who lived in a free country were embarrassed of their Judaism. He told me how much my sincere rebuke affected him and he decided to make aliya, to drop out of college, and to strengthen his Judaism. I remember how this greatly moved my father and me.
“From everything I experienced as a child, I learned that if you go with the Rebbe with simple faith, you are successful. The bachur from England became far more committed to Judaism, not because someone explained anything to him, but because he heard and saw a child raised with the truth who said the truth.”
Upon his arrival in Eretz Yisroel, R’ Rotenbord went to Yeshivas Tomchei T’mimim in Kfar Chabad. His hiskashrus to the Rebbe, which began in Russia, was strengthened by answers the family received from the Rebbe. They spent Tishrei 5749 with the Rebbe.
“I went as a Tamim, and not like someone seeking to collect giluyim and inspiring moments. It was clear to me already that I would join the army of shluchim.”
GOING ON A NEW SHLICHUS
“After my wife and I married, we looked for a long time for a place to go on shlichus. Then we heard that a Chabad preschool had opened in Chadera and they were looking for a teacher. My wife was qualified and we went to Chadera. We settled in the Beit Eliezer neighborhood where many Russian immigrant families lived, and we began working with them. The first thing we did was to open an Ulpan to teach Hebrew for which there was a big demand. Of course, we used half the time to teach Hebrew and the other half for Torah subjects.
“The Russian community highly esteems learning and intellectual pursuits, so many of them really connected with the messages of Chassidus. I put a lot of work into giving quality shiurim. At some point, a group of students told me they were not that interested in learning Hebrew and they wanted to use all the time on Torah subjects. We were very successful and people were extremely interested. We had forty people from the outset and soon people began recognizing us in the neighborhood. We ran big programs for every holiday.
“At Chanuka parties at the mall, we would bring R’ Meir Varzov a”h with his musicians for a klezmer concert, which was attended by hundreds of people. After two years, we no longer had to advertise before holidays, because people called us to find out what was going on and wanted to buy tickets.
“One day, a group of residents, religious longstanding locals, asked to speak to me. They wanted to open a Nusach Ashkenaz shul. To me, this was a dream come true and I happily agreed. We turned the Ulpan, which had been located in a small bomb shelter, into a shul, and we had a nice minyan on Shabbasos. Men with knitted kippot davened alongside new immigrants who were just learning the Alef-Beis. A k’hilla began to form with about fifty families regularly attending classes, lectures, Shabbos meals, Tzivos Hashem activities, etc. When the place became too small, we moved to a larger bomb shelter with beautiful furnishings. We also built a mikva.”
MIKVA – YESH M’AYIN
“For years, since we started outreach, there was no mikva for men in the neighborhood. The nearest mikva was an hour’s walk each way, so one of my dreams was to build a mikva near our house. I couldn’t do anything about it though, since the costs were so high. Only on Rosh Hashanah and Shavuos would I convince a group of mekuravim to walk with me to the mikva.
“Four years ago, I decided during the course of a Yud-Tes Kislev farbrengen that I would print a Tanya, which was not yet printed in our neighborhood, and give out copies to participants. The printing machine was in a room at the entrance to the shul where I dreamed of building a mikva. After the farbrengen, the machine remained there. A few days later, I met with a new immigrant who had a wealthy friend in Russia, and it was through this man that he gave money for shiurim. We spoke about certain shiurim that he could sponsor for us. I suddenly remembered that my regular shiur at the central Chabad house would be starting soon. Despite the importance of our meeting, I suggested he wait until after I came back from the shiur in about an hour, because the shiur took priority.
“At first he was a bit taken aback, but then he offered to go along with me, because he wasn’t interested in sitting around for an hour at the shul. On the way out, we passed by the room where the printing machine was and he asked me what it was for. I told him about printing the Tanya and mentioned that it was my dream to turn the room into a mikva.
“After the shiur, when we sat down again to talk, he asked me how much it would cost to pour the concrete for a mikva. I told him the amount without really expecting a donation from him. To my astonishment, he took out his checkbook and wrote ten checks covering the entire sum. I was both surprised and moved. I thanked him profusely and immediately got to work. Within a short time, the mikva was ready although not complete, but it could be used.”
The next stage of the mikva development was no less miraculous. “Someone in the neighborhood, a popular photographer, had a problem with his foot and was in the hospital for weeks. The doctors were already talking about amputation if the antibiotics did not halt the gangrene from spreading throughout his body. The man’s daughters regularly attended the Tzivos Hashem club that my wife runs. My wife noticed that they weren’t their usual cheerful selves. When she asked them what was wrong, they told her about their father. My wife spoke to their mother and suggested that they write to the Rebbe and ask for a bracha.
“The page in the Igros to which they opened had two letters. In the first letter the Rebbe wrote that since they did not write him for a long time, he assumed that their health was fine and there was no problem. In the second letter, the Rebbe wrote to a woman who had written about another woman who was bothering her at work, which is why she wanted to leave her job. The Rebbe’s response was that it was a temporary test and she should not quit, and he also asked her to help the Chabad activities in her area to the best of her ability. The Rebbe blessed her with success in her job.
“The mother was astonished because she had just stopped going to work because of a woman who was bothering her and the Rebbe was telling her not to leave. She promised me that she would go back the next day.
“She left our house in pleasant shock. Although they did not have much money due to the father’s illness, she said she would do all she could to help Chabad’s activities as the Rebbe had written. Within two days, her husband was released from the hospital! The medication had finally worked and he was back on his feet and back to work. Within a short time, she was promoted so she no longer had anything to do with the woman who had bothered her. And she helps out a lot with our work.
“The most interesting detail happened a few months later. One of the few people who immersed with me in the morning knew a wealthy Jew in the neighborhood whose mother had died. The man wanted to donate a large sum of money l’ilui nishmasa. Several shuls in the area had made him attractive proposals, but my mekurav decided to bring him to visit our mikva to show him how it was only a shell and was not complete. He told him how much the tiles and renovations would cost.
“After showing him around, the man said that he was more interested in donating to shuls, but he would consult with his good friend and get back to us. Incredibly, the friend was none other than the photographer who had gotten better with the Rebbe’s bracha. Naturally, he urged the man to donate to Chabad and the man accepted his advice.
“Within a short time, he brought professionals who turned the mikva into a beautiful place so that I could give other people the option of immersing Shabbos morning. Thus, the photographer fulfilled the Rebbe’s request to help Chabad activities in the area.”
THE AMAZING STORY OF THE TORAH
Although the shul moved to more spacious quarters, in recent years the new place has also become too small. With fifty member families the atmosphere is wonderful and every week another family is responsible to provide refreshments for the farbrengen after davening. Nearly every week, new people join the davening including new immigrants alongside Sabras. The davening is Nusach Ari and is like every other Chabad shul that proclaims “Yechi” after davening.
“For over ten years we did not have our own Torah. We had to borrow one every time and this was hard to do. Sometimes, moments before Shabbos, we managed to procure a Torah after we were asked to return our previous one. We don’t have a wealthy congregation and buying a Torah is an expensive proposition. We spoke several times about buying one of our own but were unable to follow through.
“A few years ago, one of the congregants came over to me and said he had a good friend in Ashdod, a Gerrer Chassid who is a sofer, who due to financial problems was willing to write a Torah for us at an especially low price and on good terms. It was quite a bargain, but I still could not pay for it. I thought about how to include others in this important endeavor.
“I wrote a report to the Rebbe as I do periodically, but I did not mention the Torah because I still had no plan. The answer I opened to was very exciting. The Rebbe wrote about a donor from France who donated a Torah. I realized there had to be a connection to my situation, but what did I have to do with France when I worked with Russians?
“I mulled over the Rebbe’s answer for a long time, until I remembered that we had a person in our shul who was a new immigrant from France. He wasn’t someone whom I thought could make a sizable donation. He was an older person and simple. I figured that since he was the only Jew from France that I knew, I would go over to him and suggest he donate a Torah in memory of his daughter who had died a few years earlier. I did not count on his help and merely thought that the maximum he would give me would be a nice start, and I would have to raise the rest of the money from our congregation or even from the neighborhood and outside of it.
“I spoke to him and to my surprise, he was enthusiastic. ‘For a long time now I have been thinking of writing a Torah in her memory,’ he said. That very evening he signed an agreement to donate the entire Torah and pay for the seuda that we would have afterwards in a nice hall. I could not get over this amazing story which was completely unexpected, but when the Rebbe writes that the Torah would come from France, it comes from France. Within less than a year, we had a beautiful Torah written in K’sav Arizal.”
PRIESTLY BLESSINGS
The next story R’ Rotenbord had for us was about how his minyan merited Birkas Kohanim every Shabbos after years of not having this privilege.
“At one of the Chassidus classes that my wife gives, she taught the students about the importance of Birkas Kohanim according to Kabbala and Chassidus. The women enjoyed it very much and asked how to receive this bracha. She explained that only a Kohen gives the bracha.
“At our shul there are no Kohanim and so there is no Birkas Kohanim. A search was conducted to find a Kohen who would be willing to daven regularly at our shul, but nobody was found.
“In response to a report that we wrote to the Rebbe that week, there was a letter in which the Rebbe explains the difference between a bracha and t’filla. The Rebbe says that Birkas Kohanim includes both a bracha and a t’filla. I understood from this that the Rebbe was expressing support for the women’s inspiration regarding Birkas Kohanim, but what could I do? I cannot turn someone into a Kohen!
“That night, one of the mekuravim and regulars at the shul called me. He said he was sitting with a Dr. Katz, a family doctor in the neighborhood. He had tried for a long time to convince Dr. Katz to daven with us and enjoy the special atmosphere of our k’hilla, but he had refused. The doctor is an intellectual person who considers himself a thinker and is not inclined towards faith. Even on Yom Kippur, he prefers resting at home while most people go to shul. But now he was willing to come to shul the following Shabbos. ‘When he comes, give him a big welcome,’ said the mekurav.
“This mekurav knew nothing about our problem with the lack of Kohanim. He had been working on convincing the doctor to join us simply out of the desire to be mekarev him. So he did not understand why I was so excited.
“The doctor showed up the following Shabbos and of course, I gave him a royal welcome. He was known by everyone and was a respected, serious person, but there was one more thing – he was a Kohen! Even before I explained to him where we begin the davening, I told him about the significance of Birkas Kohanim and how it is done, which he would be doing for the first time in his life. He recalled how his grandfather did Birkas Kohanim, and seemed to show real warmth for tradition.
“He cried throughout the davening. Being there in shul reminded him of his childhood. Now, he never misses a Shabbos with us. He comes to every t’filla, has started keeping Shabbos, and attends shiurim. And we get Birkas Kohanim. Oddly enough, a few weeks later, two other Kohanim began regularly joining us too.”
MOSHIACH IN DAILY LIFE
The Chabad community in Beit Eliezer proudly publicizes the Besuras Ha’Geula and the identify of Moshiach. They speak about it openly at every opportunity.
“What I see in my work is that everyone, no matter how distant, is ready to hear about Moshiach and Geula if you explain it seriously and not just with slogans. People see that the subject is rooted in the sources, and it’s not just a matter of Chassidishe hergeshim. It’s not merely that people accept it; they relate to it. People today need this emuna and hope.
“We have a routine in which every Shabbos afternoon we learn Inyanei Moshiach and Geula for half an hour in a systematic way. Last Gimmel Tammuz we made a big push amongst our mekuravim to buy P’ninei Ha’Geula. In addition to the ongoing shiurim, people have also begun learning independently at home and with friends and family. One woman committed to making a shiur on Inyanei Moshiach and she teaches many women at a non-Chabad shul in the neighborhood.
“I will tell you a story from which you will understand to what extent Moshiach has penetrated the world. One day of Chol HaMoed Sukkos a few years ago, a member of the k’hilla, a former military man who currently holds a high position, organized an event in his home. The event started out mixed, but since everyone knows that I do not attend mixed events, they invited me for the second half of the event which was going to be having more Torah content, and with men only. They did not know exactly when I would be showing up. When I arrived, I heard from a distance the loud singing of Yechi. They did not do this because of me since they had not seen me arrive. It’s just that they are really into it.”
THE LIGHT OF GEULA
The Rotenbords are constantly thinking up new plans about how to be mekarev Yidden.
“Our current plan is grandiose: it entails building a large building that will contain a shul and will have many rooms for our various activities. We have also started to centralize the outreach activities we carry out with many immigrants who live all over the city. We are working on a plan to reach every single Jew and to light up their life with Chassidus.”