Rabbi Avrohom Shmuel Lewin
It was the summer of 1968, and my father had helped me get a part-time job at a charity called Ezras Torah. Founded in 1902 to help rabbis experiencing economic hardship, Ezras Torah had since expanded to become a general relief society, handing out stipends and assistance to anyone in need. My job was writing out checks, getting them signed, recording who received assistance, and other administrative tasks.
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Ezras Torah was close to the heart of the old Lithuanian Jewish community, which had historically been at odds with the chasidic community, and so I was very much in unfamiliar territory. When people came in and recognized me as a Lubavitcher, they would sometimes make a snide remark that could border on verbal abuse. “Oy vey,” one person said upon seeing me. “Those people have even reached here!” It bothered me very much, and eventually, I wrote to the Rebbe.
“I’ve been at this job for two months,” I wrote, “and I keep getting these jabs about being a Lubavitcher. Debating and fighting aren’t in my personality, so I keep quiet. But I feel that my silence implies that their criticisms are correct. I want to leave the job.”
The Rebbe’s answer was quick in coming. He wanted me to keep the job, and he advised me on how to handle the comments: “We are commanded by our sages to distance ourselves from even the trace of conflict. Therefore, you should remain silent.”
After that, my work experience changed. I continued to get those jabs, but with my instructions to stay silent, they went in one ear and out the other. The atmosphere at Ezras Torah suddenly became much more comfortable, even congenial, so I ended up staying there for the next few years. (more…)
