Memoir of One Chabadnik Who Spent 20 Years in Soviet Labor Camps

When I decided to stop resisting the Force that seemed much bigger than mine and flowing with it, I also had to make a very difficult decision about what to do with about 400 Chabad Chassidic books that had been accumulated since I first took an interest in the teachings of Chabad Chassidus as life wisdom six years ago.

For a couple of practical reasons I could take or send only up to about 80 of these books (together with about ten dictionaries of Hebrew, Yiddish, Esperanto and Russian as well as about ten references of Russian for advanced learners). I spent the last month almost every day in Jerusalem asking myself which 80 books to choose as I might not be able to see the rest for many years to come.

During this period I encountered and devoured a book entitled Subbota - a memoir of one Chabadnik who spent 20 years in Soviet labor camps simply because of his Yiddishkeit. Subbota means 'Sabbath' in Russian. He got this nickname because he strickly kept Sabbaths and Jewish holidays in adverse physical and other conditions. And this is also the title of this truly amazing memoir.

Compared to his situation, my personal mission must look like a paradise. But there is one common denominator. Both of us are totally detached from a Jewish community. When I read this memoir for the first time on one of my last weeks in Jerusalem, I was not only deeply touched but also felt enormously empowered. If he could survive 20 years of Soviet labor camps, I must also be able to complete my personal mission in much favorable conditions.

Having seen that this memoir has 52 chapters, I've decided to read one chapter every Sabbath every year until I complete my personal mission. I'll start this weekly reading this coming January.

Jewish "Ark"

There are two things without which I might not have dared to leave Jerusalem two months ago for an extended period of time. The first is the fact that I was lucky enough to have studied Chabad Chassidus for three years in Jerusalem. Thanks to this study I feel I'll probably be able to live in any sociocultural environment as the life wisdom I've received from it protects me from "darkness" even in a totally non-Jewish environment.

The second is related to this first thing. It's part of the Chabad Chassidic library I built in the past five years or so - probably about 500 volumes in Hebrew, English, Russian and Yiddish. For the huge cost of sending them abroad and lack of space in the new location of my present personal mission I could only take about 80 volumes from this library, leaving the rest at my close Chabad friend's place in Jerusalem.

The last of the five parcels of these books I asked this friend of mine to send me finally arrived here this week. For the first time in two months I feel I'm again aboard a Jewish "ark" - a term Baal Shem Tov used for the study of Torah as an esoteric interpretation of Noah's ark. Here is the list of these 80 volumes in Hebrew, English, Russian and Yiddish.

I study some of them daily and some others weekly for my regular spiritual nourishment. But the most important thing is their very physical presence! It's so surrealistic that such quintessentially Jewish books are in such an isolated place in the Jewish world atlas. But precisely because of this physical isolation even a little light can help dispel darkness.

Blind Love vs. True Love

How would you react if you should suspect that someone who is dear to you is committing a morally unacceptable act? Would you check the issue until you confirm or dispel your suspicion, or would you pretend as if nothing happened and simply ignore the suspicion? And how would you react if your suspicion should be confirmed? Would you rebuke that person, or would you pretend as if nothing happened and simply ignore the confirmed suspicion?

About a month ago I started to suspect that some organization that had helped me a lot has been committing one morally unacceptable act. So I shared this suspicion of mine with someone I considered a close friend of mine who still belongs to this organization. Then he said goodbye to me.

Since then I continued investigating this issue, until I confirmed this suspicion. I shared this confirmed suspicion this week with someone else I also considered a good friend of mine who still belongs to this same organization. He also said goodbye to me.

I never expected such a reaction as we discussed about almost every topic under the sun. But thanks to this same reaction of them I also had an unexpected chance to think about what true love is.

I know that this organization is very dear to them, but their love for it seems more like blind love than true love. And this blind love of theirs seems to stem from blind faith in this organization.

I already know from my prior experiences that any rational proof that can discredit their blind faith will only make them stubborn and they will even start accusing me as a traitor. Since they don't know what they don't know and aren't even open to new ideas, I'm left with no choice but to reciprocate them by saying goodbye to them, though only in my mind like them, and walk away from them, wishing that they would someday have true love for this organization.

I strongly believe that true love is to rebuke the person or organization that is dear to you when they commit some morally unacceptable act even by paying the price of losing friends. Actually, such people who are so quick to say goodbye to me in such a situation don't seem to have ever been my true friends. This was my (and their) illusion.