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Areyah Kaltmann

Don’t give us a speech, Rabbi! We need a Hug!

Chabad-Lubavitch Rabbi Naftoli Schmukler, left, of Corpus Christi, Texas, embraces and comforts Ed Flower, a local homeowner, who together with his brother, barely survived the hurricane in Port Aransas, Texas, on Thursday, Aug. 31, 2017. (Photo: Verónica G. Cárdenas/Chabad.org)

This past week, the world has been struck by tragedies of biblical proportions. Raging infernos never before seen have swept across the hills of Los Angeles, ravaging thousands of homes and businesses. Countless children and families are left homeless and no one knows how or when the fires will be contained. My fellow Chabad Rabbis in Los Angeles are receiving countless questions along the lines of, “How could G-d let a calamity of such horrific magnitude happen?” The answer is as startling as it is profound.

When someone’s house is on fire, it’s not the time for theology or sermons. It’s a time for compassion and care. Pick up the phone and call someone who needs it. Go and bring a case of water to the parched lips of someone who is thirsty. Give a hug to someone who just lost everything. That is how we bring G-d into these catastrophic moments.

This principle dates back to the story of the burning bush, recounted in this week’s Parsha, Shemot. G-d introduces himself to Moses for the first time via the bush engulfed in flames. Scholars throughout the ages have asked why G-d chose such a setting as a first point of contact with Moses. As the creator and supreme ruler of the universe, couldn’t G-d have had the ability to present himself with greater flair or pomp and circumstance? Just as first impressions on a date or a job interview mean everything, it seems counterintuitive that G-d would make his grand appearance in a thorny, skimpy shrub in the middle of a desert wasteland.

Rashi, the renowned 11th century biblical commentator, gave the following answer. This humble setting was in fact the perfect place for Moses to receive his appointment as the G-d’s representative on earth. At that moment in Moses’s life, he was in exile after having killed an Egyptian taskmaster, and was chasing a wayward sheep who had escaped. Revealing himself to Moses in such an impoverished and transient state sent the message that G-d is will be with him and the Jewish people through the depths of their pain, suffering, and struggle. When Moses asked G-d to reveal his name, he receives the famous answer: “I Will Be What I Will Be.” Rashi interpreted this cryptic answer to mean, “I will be with you in your present distress, just as I will be with you in future exiles and persecutions.”

This message, delivered 3,500 years ago, is just as applicable today. This week, 5 brave IDF soldiers tragically lost their lives and another 10 were critically wounded in an explosion in Northern Gaza. The weeping families of the dead and wounded were comforted not by pontification on why G-d allows evil to happen, but rather with warm hugs from their fellow Jews. Indeed, their pain is raw and as fresh as the graves that have just been dug, but the love and support of their fellow Jews gives them the knowledge that they are never alone. In those moments, they are also totally embraced by Hashem’s heavenly hug of love and support.

Just as G-d appearing to Moses in a burning bush contained a powerful message, so too do the blazing wildfires in Los Angeles. According to Hasidic tradition, even the darkest external moments contain within them a positive life lesson. As we see in California, all it takes is one smoldering ember in a parched landscape to spark a fire. On a human level, all it takes is one act of kindness to spark the flames of love.

The Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory, once taught that a little bit of light dispels a lot of darkness. When our people were at their lowest historic ebb, still reeling after the horrors of the Holocaust, the Rebbe lovingly uplifted them by encouraging them to keep the fire of Judaism burning with unconditional positivity, love and acceptance. That’s why he sent out emissaries to spread this love one act of kindness at a time.

Whether it’s comforting a grieving family or a victim of a natural disaster, when we help a fellow Jew in times of need — even just to give them a hug —  they feel like they are not alone. Indeed, it is through the kind actions of their fellow Jew that Hashem is embracing and caring for them. The more acts of kindness we do in the face of disaster and calamity is what will bring the ultimate redemption with the coming of Moshaich.

About the Author
Rabbi Areyah Kaltmann is the Director of Chabad Columbus at the Lori Schottenstein Chabad Center. For over three decades, Rabbi Kaltmann and his wife Esther have put their heart and soul into serving the Columbus Jewish community. In addition to directing Chabad Columbus, the Rabbi and his family also operate LifeTown Columbus — which teaches essential life skills to more than 2,100 Ohio students with special needs in a 5,000-square-foot miniature city, Kitchen of Life — which fosters social-emotional skills for young people through culinary arts, Friendship Circle Columbus, the Jewish Business Network, and dozens of other programs. Areyah and Esther have adult children who serve Chabad of Downtown Columbus, oversee Chabad’s many programs and enthusiastically serve people throughout the state.
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