The story is told of someone who wanted to make a movie about Moshe Rabbeinu. Everything was ready, the scenery, the photographers, etc. but the central figure with his majestic appearance and a long beard, was still lacking. The producer went to Mea Sh’arim and after looking around, found an older person who met all his requirements. He was tall, had a striking demeanor, and most importantly, he had a long, white beard.
WITHOUT THE BEARD I’VE GOT A THOUSAND LIKE YOU
“He’s the one! I found him!” the producer exclaimed, and they immediately sat down to sign a million dollar contract with bonuses. They arranged to meet in Hollywood a month later.
The man’s family was excited. A day before his flight, at the end of a goodbye party they held, a close friend of the designated actor took him aside and said, “Listen Yankel, for sixty years you grew a nice beard but now, before you fly, and before you take on this important role, it’s time to take it off. You need to adapt.”
Yankel thought it over; he wasn’t sure but his friend was adamant. He finally removed his beard, donned a nice business suit and flew to Los Angeles. When he arrived at the studio, the producer asked him, “Who are you?”
He said, “It’s me! Moshe Rabbeinu from Mea Sh’arim!”
“Yeah, but where’s your beard?”
“I took if off ….”
“You fool! I chose you because of the beard! Without the beard, I have a thousand like you!”
HAVE WE FORGOTTEN THE MAIN THING?
I was reminded of this story on Erev Lag B’Omer 5772. We had arranged an elaborate parade in honor of R’ Shimon bar Yochai. We had booked a special performer, had arranged prizes for a raffle, and a ride in a limousine for the lucky winners. This was all to attract as many children as possible, of course.
The night before the parade I went to the neighborhood shul to announce the parade. I saw that close to a hundred people had gathered in honor of Rabbi Shimon. The rav told stories from the Gemara about Rabbi Shimon and everyone listened avidly. I looked at them and saw they were simply “smitten” with Rabbi Shimon.
Then I thought, we had planned a nice parade but maybe we had removed some of the beard of Rabbi Shimon. We had taken out some of the excitement… Maybe if we emphasized more about Rabbi Shimon, we would reach all these people?
Maybe we should have done without the expensive performer or even left everything as it was but wracked our brains with the graphic artist so that the flyer and the whole event would “scream out” Rabbi Shimon, and everybody in the neighborhood would know that Rabbi Shimon is important to him and he must be there.
But when you invest more in crisis management, then the inyan of Rabbi Shimon …
LET’S NOT SHAVE THE BEARD OFF OUR MESSAGE
We can apply the story of Moshe Rabbeinu in many ways but I would like to share a personal lesson I derived from it.
I am writing this before the Kinus HaShluchim, because we will soon be sitting together at workshops and farbrengens and discussing how to improve our work and reach as many people as possible and convey our message.
At this point in time, it is important to take a lesson from this story about the beard and to realize that sometimes along with all the new ideas, angles and methodologies, and the attempt to adjust ourselves to every audience and to attract more people, we are likely to cut or trim the beard. When that happens, not only have we gotten further from the goal, we have totally lost the beauty which is what makes us unique.
The prophet says, “Days are coming, says Hashem, and I will send a famine in the land, not a famine for bread and not a thirst for water, but to hear the word of Hashem.” You don’t need to be a shliach; every Jew on the street feels a thirst for holy matters.
But sometimes, in the midst of an exhausting marathon when people are running dozens of kilometers and the guys are thirsty, instead of giving them water, we offer them cola with lemon. True, it’s appealing and it’s a new drink that just hit the shelves, but one minute – the guys are thirsty. Thirsty for water!
You can apply this in numerous ways but the main thing is for each of us to farbreng about this and apply it to himself to see whether in his shlichus, in his outreach, he has given up the heart. And how, from now on, to think about how to make sure that the message remains authentic and true to its source.
Maybe when we ask ourselves why we haven’t succeeded, perhaps we can add this too. Maybe the Rebbe’s message was fresh and alive and exciting and it was we who fixed it up and consequently removed the excitement and the beauty.
Let’s farbreng about this without glossing over the issue.