On the Sidewalk with the Rebbe

By Dr. David Nesenoff for COLlive.com

Some non-Jewish students said, “Hi what is that? Can I try it?” While some Jewish students, barked, “Not now, I’m late for an exam!” Standing under the Drexel University iconic dragon statue on Friday for four hours allows one to hear many comments as you offer tfillin and Shabbos candles to Jews who walk by.

During my recent visit to the Philadelphia campus, where I spoke for Rabbi Chaim and Moussia Goldstein‘s beautiful Chabad house, I joined in on the pre-Shabbos mivtzoim asking passers-by if they were Jewish and then offering the men to wrap tefillin and the women to take a Shabbos candle kit. And yes, it does seem that the Jewish kids were always a bit late running to an exam. Or perhaps they were just, not at first, running to put on tefillin.

My mantra, “Are you Jewish by any chance?” was repeated hundreds and hundreds of times. “No I’m sorry, I’m Catholic,” on occasion was the answer. And I would reply, “no need to apologize, have a nice weekend,” which always got a smile.

One young Jewish fellow toting his knapsack, filled with books, hustling off to a class, responded to my Jewish identification inquiry by boldly asking me, “Can I get Bar Mitzvahed?” Boom! His arm was bound, head crowned and prayer sounded. Where did he come from?

It’s not so easy to profile our people these days as the Hebrews now come in all shapes and sizes and piercings and tattoos and colors and tints and dress. However, I am reminded of Daniel Pearl, the journalist who gave the ultimate Kiddush Hashem, sacrificing his very life, when he answered the terrorists with his final words, “I am Jewish.” It is very clear, as I stood ‘shvitzing’ in the sun-drenched college square, that a Jew can hesitate, roll his eyes, make up excuses and negotiate his tefillin binding, but every Jewish soul replied, “Yes I am Jewish.”

Perhaps that is a great part of the Rebbe’s ingenious campaign as well. The Jew needs to awaken his and her Jewish neshama. And just by simply pronouncing in the middle of the day, in the middle of the sidewalk, in the middle of the tumult, “Yes I am Jewish,” is a remarkable jolt that can have aftershocks for minutes or even generations.

I have often quipped that Chabadniks are either geniuses or they’re just selling water in the desert. It takes persistence, humility and outgoingness to approach strangers on the street to market these Jewish tasks, but ultimately the job is already ‘in the bag’. The Jew wants it and is looking for it. A nursing student yearned to know every detail about giving tzedakah and then lighting the Sabbath candle. In her mind it was the biggest Hashgacha Protis, Divine Providence, that I stopped her. After just failing her big nursing exam, she knew she had to do something important to end this week and bring in the next week when she would have one more shot at taking the test of her career.

I say to myself, “Maybe I should pack it in and head back to the Chabad house, it’s getting late and I’m tired and want to get ready for Shabbos.” But what if I left now and I missed someone whose life could be purposefully lit by their Jewish neshama being ignited from a tefillin box or candle box? Okay, some more change goes into the parking meter.

“Are you Jewish?” I continued.

“Yes but leave me alone, I have no time for this. I’m visiting from out of town. My mother is in the hospital,” the man replied.

Although I attempted to encourage binding tefillin and affirming our connection to the one Creator during a time when we are seeking the healing of our loved ones – he was gone.

A Far East global conscious campus student society of some sort set up shop with table and chairs next to our table which was draped with the Chabad banner. They were giving away free pizza. For every one of my, “Are you Jewish?” they inquired, “Who likes free pizza?” I mean, who doesn’t? They were running quite a business over there. I did get a lost wandering Jew from their table. Rabbi Goldstein will now understand why there’s a small tomato sauce stain on his tefillin straps.

And then like Moshe standing in front of the burning bush, like Yaakov’s sons perched before their brother revealing, “I am Yosef,” like Avraham at Moriah’s altar when he heard the angel demanding the sparing of his son Isaac’s life… a Jew stood at the Chabad table silent and still. He then spoke softly, “I just came from my mother in the hospital; I would like to put on tefillin for her.”

He was back.

There is a time of reckoning for every Jewish soul. The Rebbe knew this very well before any of us who stand on these Friday streets and sidewalks ever understood. For all the young men and women and Shluchim and Shluchos and students and volunteers who bother and noodge and probe and insist and persist when he and she finds a Jew on the Friday or Monday street… there is a Moshiach waiting for just one more tefillin, just one more candle. And all those who overcome their shyness or laziness or tiredness or busy schedules to ask that stranger, “Are you Jewish?” must be reminded that they are engaged in nothing less than changing lives and souls and worlds.

I have never had the honor of yechidus, a private meeting with the Rebbe. But the times I experience the Friday pavement, with tefillin and candles in hand, meeting my Jewish brothers and sisters… always feel like I’ve entered an inner chamber of understanding and I somehow truly sense that I am spending personal time with the Rebbe. It is no wonder why I choose to stay for hours longer.

–Dr. David Nesenoff is a renowned inspirational speaker who presents to Chabad houses and campuses throughout the world. His website is Davidinspires.com