The Short Vort
Good Morning!
Today is Thursday the 11
th
of Shevat 5780 and February 6, 2020
A Litvak at Lubavitch
When a friend asked me, “Would I like to go with him to the Kinus Hashluchim banquet?” I did not know what to say.
I am not a Chabad Shaliach and I don’t like banquets with lots of people, too much food and long speeches.
Yet, my curiosity was piqued as I felt that I was gaining access to an exclusive event.
Therefore, notwithstanding my trepidation, I shocked myself when I heard myself saying, “Yes, it would be my honor to attend.”
The thought of being together with over 5,000 men from all over the world, all of them dedicated to spreading Yiddishkeit to the furthest corners of the globe was too enticing an invitation to turn down.
I was somewhat apprehensive as after all, I am not a member of this elite alliance.
Would I stand out?
What happens when someone asks, “Where are you a Shaliach?”
When I fessed and confessed to not being a Shaliach would I be asked to leave?
No, no and no.
Nobody questioned my credentials and no one checked my allegiances.
I was a bit player among a cast of thousands.
I marveled at the massive investment of time and effort it took to put together this well-oiled event.
Not one detail was overlooked as everything from the parking to the main course was masterfully choreographed.
I am not sure exactly when it happened, however, I know it did.
Something was off, something was not right.
It was not the food, which was delicious.
It was not the speeches as they were all poignant and inspirational.
What was it?
The lonely lightning bolt suddenly hit home.
I was surrounded by over five thousand men who are devoted to making sure no Jew feels alone, yet, paradoxically, precisely because of that fact, I was feeling the haunting despair of loneliness.
I was not at all alone, however, I was lonely.
The vast majority of the attendees were Shluchim or friends of Shluchim.
It was a time to catch up with your former chavrusa from yeshiva.
It was a time for meaningful bonding and of resuming relationships.
Everyone was joyously reconnecting with someone and the melodic cacophony of five thousand men mingling was in itself inspiring.
I saw smiles and hugs as old friends embraced.
Everyone was talking to everyone, except for one person, and that was me.
To be clear, no one was in any way unfriendly towards me.
No one caused me any discomfort and no one made me feel I was unwanted.
However, the banquet's purpose was a gathering of Shluchim and I am not a Shaliach.
The irony of being in the company of 5,000 men whose life’s purpose is to connect to every Jew and realizing that it was precisely that fact which made me feel disconnected was not lost on me.
I knew that obviously Hashem had a special purpose in bringing me here.
I just had not yet figured out what that was.
Suddenly I felt the seat next to me moving.
My friend who was sitting at a different table noticed my solitude and came to sit near me.
I protested, “You are here to reconnect with your acquaintances, you don’t have to sit here.”
He ignored (thankfully) my protestations and continued to sit with me.
His presence was comforting.
I was no longer lonely.
Hashem’s ways never cease to amaze me.
Hashem had to micro-manage the lives of five thousand men from all over the world and coordinate their schedules to bring them together on this night, to teach one Jew- namely me- the poignant lesson that you can be totally not alone, while simultaneously totally lonely.
If I only came to learn that lesson, the night was unconditionally a total success.
“If Not Now, Then When?”- Hillel
Ron Yitzchok Eisenman
Rabbi
Congregation Ahavas Israel
Passaic, NJ
