A DUCH? ONLY TO THE REBBE!

R’ Shneur sat, bent over the table. He had a white paper and a pen and he would think and write a line, think for a while and then write another few words. He wanted to fill the page with many lines but only managed to get a few words down in writing.

Our story begins nineteen years ago. R’ Shneur and Chani T, a young couple with a baby, Mushka, went on shlichus to Germany.

The place they were sent had a Jewish community but it wasn’t a community as we know it. The Jews who were registered there knew hardly anything about Torah and mitzvos. There was no shul in the area and forget about Jewish schools.

The local Jews, although not religious, wanted to feel their Judaism a bit more and they asked the local head of the community, “Why don’t we have any religious programming?”

The head of the community thought and said, “We will bring you a rabbi.” He contacted the shluchim office in New York and asked for their help in finding a shliach/rabbi.

That is how R’ Shneur and Chani got to that foreign place. They did not even know the language and they were unfamiliar with the mindset which is so different than that of the Jews of Eretz Yisrael. The Germans, for example, are reserved and very particular about time. They prepare for every event half a year in advance, while most Israelis are warm, show up late to events and do things at the last minute.

The young shluchim lived in a small house among gentiles and from there, they spread the light of Judaism.

“Here is a list of fifty people. They are Jews who live here in the area,” said the head of the community.

R’ Shneur took the list and looked it up and down. They were all strangers to him but each one was a world, a pure Jewish soul, and it was his mission to ignite the light of Judaism in them.

“Every week, I will want a detailed report about what you did the previous week,” said the man.

R’ Shneur still had no idea what could be done. He had just arrived in the city. He knew nobody and it would take him time to connect with people, but he placed his trust in Hashem and the Rebbe who sent him to this out-of-the-way place where, it seemed, ever since the Holocaust, the fire of Torah had been extinguished.

R’ Shneur took the list with the phone numbers and began making calls.

“Hello, this is Rabbi Shneur. I want to invite you to the Friday night services at my home,” he said and gave his address.

“Who gave you my phone number? Don’t call me!” said an angry voice.

It wasn’t pleasant getting a response like that but R’ Shneur ended the conversation pleasantly. Then he went on to the next number on his list.

“Why are you calling me? What do you want from me? There is nothing for you to do here!” shouted the man.

R’ Shneur did not give up. He called the entire list. The results were three people came to his house Friday night.

When Shabbos was over, R’ Shneur sat down with a paper and pen since he had to report to the head of the community. What should he write? That I called fifty people and three people came Friday night? That I sat and spoke with … ? It sounds pathetic …

“This is what I did this week?” he thought and felt sad. He tried to fortify his trust and hope for progress but it happened very slowly.

Every week, when he sat down to write his weekly report, he felt very frustrated. He tried to get the community leader to free him of the task, but the man insisted.

“What do you want me to write you in the report – what I served?” R’ Shneur asked sarcastically.

“Write as you have been writing, i.e. how many people showed up to pray, who you called, who you spoke to; everything you did.”

A half a year passed in which there was some outreach and R’ Shneur had to write his weekly report to the community leader. There was nothing he could take pictures of and show off. There was just reaching out to one Jew and another Jew. There were some Jews who had emigrated from Poland and knew Yiddish who joined in activities but not many beyond that. It took a long time for the local people to warm up and participate.

One day, he thought, “I write a report for the head of the community every week but only write a report to the Rebbe once a month. That’s not right! It should be the opposite way round, i.e. I should write to the Rebbe every week. As for the community, if only I didn’t have to write … From now on, I will write to the Rebbe every week.”

That very week, he wrote a report to the Rebbe about the low-key work he did with the local Jews. To his surprise, the following week, he received a letter from the local Jewish community office which said: Dear R’ Shneur, we rely on you and value the work you do with the Jews here. You do not need to write a weekly report any more. It is enough for you to report once in a while. Carry on and be successful …

R’ Shneur was astounded by this change. Since then, he writes a weekly report to the Rebbe. After nineteen years on shlichus, one page is hardly enough space for him to write an update.

At first, the shul was in his home. After a while, they rented a place for a shul and slowly it became too small for all the people who attended. A beautiful, large building was built which has minyanim every weekday and Shabbos. There are also holiday programs, a kollel and shiurim for young and old on a daily basis, weekly activities, evening programs for women, day camp and more.

The Jews of Germany are ready for the Geula. ■