Dialogue
After the Death of Chabad’s Messiah
Followers of the Rebbe gather for the annual International Conference of Chabad-Lubavitch Emissaries on November 8, 2015 in Crown Heights, Brooklyn. Eliyahu Yosef Parypa/Shutterstock.com
As my Rebbe lay dead on the floor of his office, I noticed a small group of men dancing and chanting outside on the street: “Long Live the Rebbe, King Messiah, Forever and Ever!” Only hours earlier, the Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, was pronounced dead by the hospital physician, but for many of his Hasidic followers, he was still the long-awaited Messiah.
It was a hot and muggy Saturday night in June 1994. As a 14-year-old yeshiva student, I joined the vigil standing outside Beth Israel Hospital in Manhattan, hoping and praying that the Rebbe would miraculously return to his followers and community in Crown Heights, Brooklyn. Alas, at 12:30 AM our hopes were dashed. Standing among the thousand Chabad followers, I saw the stretcher carried out on its way back to Brooklyn.
I rushed back to the Rebbe’s synagogue, known throughout the world by its address, “770.” There, a long line of mourners filed by the Rebbe’s office on the first floor to pay their final respects. When I saw the outline of his body laid out on the floor, wrapped in a prayer shawl, I was shocked and bewildered. He was surrounded by 10 burning candles and a small delegation of elderly Hasidim reciting the book of Psalms.
The crowd swept me outside to the street. Still in shock, I joined the dancing Hasidim and chanted along with them. I continued dancing throughout the night until daybreak. By 6 AM, completely exhausted, I made my way home and collapsed into bed.
Later in the day, I stood among the thousands of Hasidim gathered outside the Old Montefiore Cemetery in Springfield Gardens as the Rebbe was interred next to his father-in-law, Rabbi Yosef Y. Schneersohn. It began to dawn on me that the burial would surely put an end to the Rebbe’s messiahship. Or so I assumed.
More than 26 years have passed since the Rebbe’s demise. Nevertheless, to this day, most of the Rebbe’s followers, known as Chabad-Lubavitch Hasidim, continue to believe in his messianic identity. How can this be?
For years leading up to the Rebbe’s passing, and with tacit encouragement from the Rebbe himself, Chabad followers came to believe that the Rebbe was the Messiah. To a large extent, this messianic attribution was connected to the Rebbe’s mission of reaching out to every Jew across the globe. Unlike other Orthodox rabbis and Hasidic leaders, who primarily concern themselves with their own flock, the Rebbe saw himself as the leader of world Jewry. To this end, he sent emissaries from his headquarters in Brooklyn to every corner of the globe. To date, the Chabad movement has established approximately four thousand outposts, or Chabad Houses, around the world.
No previous Jewish leader had such astounding global ambitions. As the Rebbe’s program of Jewish outreach picked up steam in the early 1990s, his followers became ever more convinced that he must be the long-awaited Messiah. The Rebbe had no children and his health was deteriorating rapidly. In 1992, at the age of 90, he suffered a severe stroke, which led to his loss of speech and his ability to walk. In his weakened condition, he would appear for the evening prayer service on a specially built balcony in the back of his synagogue. On cue, the moment the curtains parted and the Rebbe came into view, the Hasidim would begin chanting fervently, “Long Live the Rebbe, King Messiah.”
The Rebbe’s death on June 12, 1994, came as a total shock to all of us. For the Chabad movement, his death simply made no sense. Everyone I knew—family, friends, and teachers—was convinced that the Rebbe was the Messiah. As such, how could he have died? Prior to the Rebbe’s death, the movement took it for granted that the Messiah had to come from the living, not the dead. Jews knew that Jesus could not be the Messiah because he left the world in an unredeemed state. Likewise, most observers outside of the Chabad movement were convinced that upon the Rebbe’s death, his followers would cease to believe that he was the Messiah. But they underestimated the tenacity of his followers’ faith in the Rebbe.
Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, or the Rebbe, at the 1987 Lag BaOmer parade in Brooklyn, New York. Mordecai Baron/Wikimedia CC BY 3.0
After the initial shock of the Rebbe’s passing, the Chabad movement recalibrated itself and came to believe that now, with the Rebbe no longer among the living, the Messiah would have to come from the dead. All that was needed was for the Rebbe to return to his synagogue in Brooklyn and finish the work he began prior to his death. Upon his return, he would gather all the Jews back to the Land of Israel and build the Third Temple in Jerusalem. In effect, this new schema can be considered a Hasidic version of the Second Coming.
Until the age of 22, I, too, managed to shake off the Rebbe’s death and continued to believe in his messianic identity. Like so many of my friends, I also had the mantra “Long Live the Rebbe, King Messiah” emblazoned on my head covering, or kippah. One of the popular communal songs my friends and I would listen to incessantly proclaimed, “He wouldn’t teach us falsehoods, he wouldn’t tell us lies, if he said the Messiah was coming, he will be here at last.” Even though I couldn’t see the Rebbe anymore in the flesh, I was convinced that if the Rebbe prophesized the Messiah was on his way—and I was sure he was the Messiah—it was only a matter of time before he returned. In the meantime, I continued studying the Rebbe’s many messianic-tinged speeches and talks.
I grew up in a strange home. My father is a graduate of Columbia College and Harvard Medical School, but he sent my three brothers and me to a school that did not even teach the ABCs. How this was possible had to do with my father’s disenchantment with secular Jewish life as a young man. By the time he was 25, he had finished medical school and had joined the Chabad Hasidic movement in Crown Heights, Brooklyn. My mother also gave up her comfortable secular Jewish lifestyle and joined the Chabad movement upon her graduation from Queens College. A matchmaker brought my parents together; they had nine children. My school, or yeshiva, was founded in 1956 with the express purpose of only teaching a Torah curriculum—with the language of instruction in Yiddish. This meant that we did not learn even basic English, math, and science. Instead, we studied the Bible, the Talmud, and Jewish law, all day, every day.
I was aware from an early age that following my father into medicine was out of the question. My school did not give out high school diplomas—how could it?—we didn’t learn the English language. Grudgingly, I made peace with this reality because I wanted to live up to my parents’ expectations to become the Torah scholar they couldn’t be. As the oldest boy in the family and the most scholastically inclined, I was going to be the one to help my family integrate into the austere Hasidic movement. Despite not gaining the education and skills to make it in the outside world, I took comfort in the fact that I knew my Rebbe was the Messiah, and it was only a matter of time before he would return and gather all the Jews back to our ancient homeland and build the Third Temple in Jerusalem.
When I turned 17, I enrolled in the Chabad yeshiva, or seminary, in Montreal, Canada. I discovered that most of the yeshiva students, numbering some 100 or more, also took the Rebbe’s messianic identity for granted. We assumed it was simply a matter of time before the Rebbe would return and complete his messianic mission.
As an inquisitive young scholar, I searched for books that were not included within the yeshiva’s restricted and limited collection of talmudic and rabbinic texts. One day, while perusing the stacks of the Jewish Public Library of Montreal, I discovered the Hebrew-language book, False Messiahs and Their Opponents, published in Israel by Rabbi Benjamin Solomon Hamburger in 1989. Without explicitly mentioning the Chabad-Lubavitch movement, it became apparent to me that the book’s real goal was to debunk the Chabad belief in the Rebbe’s messiahship.
The book described the numerous false messiahs who appeared throughout Jewish history, starting with Jesus and culminating with the founder of political Zionism, Theodore Hertzl. Its message resonated with me and I started to have doubts. On the one hand, I wanted to dismiss this book since I knew the author was an opponent of the entire Hasidic movement, including the Chabad sect I belong to. As a proud Hasid, I didn’t think I had to take the author too seriously. On the other hand, the book made a very important observation—that every Jewish messianic movement ended in failure. The thought that my belief in the Rebbe’s messianic identity might be misguided began to haunt me.
The more I wrestled with this question, the more convinced I became that I would have to read the book that was strictly forbidden to Orthodox Jews: the New Testament itself. Perhaps it would help me understand if the Rebbe could still be the Messiah even after his passing. By the time I came to the book of John, it became apparent to me that the parallels between Chabad’s belief in the Rebbe and the faith of the early followers of Jesus were undeniable; both groups of Jews continued to insist on their leader’s messianic identity following his earthly ministry.
This realization frightened me. From the earliest age, I was taught that Christianity was false and Jesus could not be the Jewish Messiah. Over the years, I had argued with Jews for Jesus and tried to prove to them that Jesus was not the Messiah. Now, after reading the Gospels, it dawned on me that my own community was like the early followers of Jesus; we could not let go of our Rebbe. Despite all evidence to the contrary, the disciples of Jesus and my fellow Hasidim both insisted that our respective leaders were the long-awaited Messiah, their deaths notwithstanding. This parallel to Christianity made me exceedingly uncomfortable.
The belief in the Rebbe’s messianic identity, while widespread in the Chabad community, expresses itself in different ways. For the vast majority of the Chabad movement, the Rebbe’s burial is not denied. In fact, they visit the Rebbe’s gravesite on a regular basis. But his burial is seen as merely temporary. If only we did one more good deed, or mitzvah, his return would surely be hastened. Perhaps for this reason, the Chabad movement has not appointed a replacement rebbe, since the “Rebbe” will be returning at any minute.
During the Rebbe’s lifetime, every couple would wait for the Rebbe’s blessing before getting engaged. If the blessing was not given, it was a sign that the Rebbe disapproved of the match and the engagement would be called off. With the Rebbe no longer among the living, the custom transformed to seeking his approval and blessing at the gravesite. This is accomplished by praying at the gravesite and laying a note on the grave, informing the Rebbe of the couple’s intention to marry. With this pilgrimage, the Rebbe’s approval is assumed. Upon leaving the gravesite, the couple will announce their engagement to their waiting family and friends and sponsor a small collation at the adjacent 24-hour visitor center.
Some Chabad members are not satisfied with assuming the Rebbe’s approval for individual requests, such as guidance on job offers or medical questions. They opt to divine the Rebbe’s guidance by consulting his 30-plus volumes of published letters, known as the “Holy Letters.” The individuals requesting guidance pen a letter to the Rebbe outlining their concern or question and insert the letter randomly into one of the volumes of the “Holy Letters.” Then they open up the book to the page where the letter had been inserted and read the printed letter found there. In this way, they find their answer in the published letter that the Rebbe had sent to someone else decades ago.1
A small but vocal minority of the Chabad movement continues to this day to deny that the Rebbe passed away at all. For them, the Rebbe is not buried in Old Montefiore Cemetery, but is still present in his synagogue at 770 Eastern Parkway. The fact that they can’t see him in “770” is of no concern. They are sure he is there and ministering, as he had for 40 years before the “Day that can’t be mentioned.” For them, June 12, 1994, is not the day the Rebbe passed away from this world; rather, it’s the day of the Rebbe’s “disappearance.” They set up his prayer lectern in the main synagogue, as was customarily done during the Rebbe’s “visible” lifetime. They also clear a path for the now “invisible” Rebbe to enter and exit the prayer service, and they reenact various public functions in which the Rebbe participated.2 Whether they believe the Rebbe is physically buried in Queens or is still residing in his synagogue in Brooklyn, the majority of Chabad followers continue to maintain that the Rebbe is the long-awaited Messiah. Not since the time of Jesus has a committed, traditionally observant Jewish community continued to maintain such a belief. This phenomenon raises many historical and theological questions.
For David Berger, a rabbi and professor at Yeshiva University, the messianic fervor currently gripping the Chabad movement is outside the pale of normative Orthodox Judaism.3 As such, he believes it should be condemned as heretical and those professing this belief should not be counted in the tradition prayer quorum (minyan). Despite his best efforts, the majority of the Orthodox establishment has not been moved to accept Berger’s call to arms.
With no replacement rebbe on the horizon, the Chabad movement today is just as dominated by the Rebbe as it was prior to his passing. They have not internalized his passing. Grieving for a loved one primarily consists of accepting the loss. The natural grieving process has been stunted, since the Rebbe is still very much alive for them on a daily basis. Besides communicating with him through his “Holy Letters,” the community incessantly watches historic film footage of his lengthy sermons.4
Ever since the Rebbe’s passing, scholars have debated whether the Rebbe himself believed he was the Messiah. One of the first academics to tackle this question was Joel Marcus of Duke Divinity School. Marcus concluded:
The recent history of the modern Chabad (Lubavitcher) movement of Hasidic Judaism provides insight into the development of early Christianity. In both movements successful eschatological prophecies have increased belief in the leader’s authority, and there is a mixture of ‘already’ and ‘not yet’ elements. Similar genres of literature are used to spread the good news (e.g. miracle catenae and collections of originally independent sayings). Both leaders tacitly accepted the messianic faith of their followers but were reticent about acclaiming their messiahship directly.5
On the one hand, the Rebbe never emphatically stated, “I am the Messiah.” Still, the many hints he gave his followers over the years seem to have indicated that he believed in his own messianic identity. While, for academics, the question of the Rebbe’s messiahship may be interesting material for papers and conferences, for the Chabad movement, the Rebbe’s messianic identity is of existential importance. This was starkly evident when I examined the tombstone inscriptions of a number of recently deceased messianic Chabad members. I noticed that their families engraved the message that the deceased “faithfully believed in the Rebbe’s messiahship.”
After the Rebbe’s passing, his critics resumed their assault on his messiahship with new zeal. In 2010, Rabbi Hamburger of Bnei Brak, Israel, reissued his book False Messiahs and Their Opponents in an expanded 703-page edition. This time, unlike his first edition in 1989, he attacks the Chabad belief in their Rebbe’s messianic identity directly in his long introduction. He states that even those who may have given Chabad the benefit of the doubt in 1989 will surely now admit that the Rebbe never was the Messiah. Reading the new edition confirmed my ever-increasing conviction that the Rebbe was not the Jewish Messiah, while also validating my perception that the first edition was written in order to undermine belief in the Rebbe’s messianic identity.
For many in the Chabad movement, Rabbi Hamburger’s book won’t dissuade them in the slightest of their belief. For one, he is a follower of their long-time antagonist Rabbi Eliezer Schach, who openly challenged the Rebbe even during his lifetime. Within Chabad, Rabbi Schach is seen as a sort of anti-Christ for challenging the Rebbe on theological and philosophical grounds. In any case, Chabad has seldom taken outside views into consideration when deciding what to believe or how to behave.
Tragically, the coronavirus has hit the Rebbe’s community in Brooklyn very hard. At least 100 members of his tight-knit community in Crown Heights passed away in the first wave of the pandemic in early 2020. Among the victims was the Rebbe’s personal long-time secretary, Rabbi Leibel Groner, a revered figure within the Chabad movement. Sadly, a close Chabad friend of mine, Rabbi Yehudah Dukes, age 40, recently lost his 10-month heroic battle with COVID-19. For his wife, six children, and the entire Chabad community, Rabbi Dukes’s passing was a terrible and painful blow.
In reading responses and missives following some of these losses, it has occurred to me that the denial over the Rebbe’s death has trickled down to personal tragedies as well. Now, the Rebbe is not the only one who is only “temporarily” missing; his followers are as well. This jump from the temporarily missing Rebbe to personal loss may not have been inevitable in 1994, but it may be the logical consequence of Chabad’s inability to come to terms with the Rebbe’s earthly passing.
Where does this leave the Chabad movement going forward? Will a time come when the Chabad movement will cease waiting for the Rebbe’s return and appoint a new leader? Or will they continue indefinitely to believe in the Rebbe’s messianic identity and refrain from ever appointing a new leader? If the historical Jewish movement that grew up around the person of Jesus is any indication, it would seem that once a Jewish leader is perceived to be the Messiah, his followers will find it difficult to give up this belief, despite his death or “disappearance.” As long as Chabad followers can inspire their progeny to believe in the Rebbe’s messiahship, he will continue to be the Messiah—if not for the world, then at least for his tens of thousands of followers.
As for me, giving up the belief in the Rebbe’s messiahship has come at a terrible price. Until the age of 22, I believed heart and soul in the Rebbe’s messianic identity. But the more Jewish history I read, the more convinced I became that the Jewish Messiah has to come from the living, not the dead. My readings on the Sabbatean movement were instructive, highlighting for me the dangers of the messianic impulse.6 Once I gave up the belief in the Rebbe’s messiahship, I found myself outside the community, if not physically, then spiritually. I don’t see eye to eye with my friends and family. While they eagerly await the Rebbe’s return, I am sure that they will never see the Rebbe again. Chabad members are fond of saying, “May we merit to see the Rebbe in the flesh,” but I know the Rebbe’s earthly ministry has ended for all eternity.
My loss of belief in the Rebbe’s messianic identity didn’t only affect my relationships with family and friends, it also affected my belief in the bedrock principles of Orthodox Judaism. The belief in a Messiah is only one of Maimonides’s (1138–1204) obligatory 13 principles of faith. If what I was taught regarding the Rebbe’s messianic identity is false, I reasoned, maybe other beliefs taught to me were false too. This doubt led me on a multiyear quest to investigate every belief I was ever taught.
And once I accepted that the Rebbe is not the Messiah and will not be returning, my lack of secular education came back to haunt me. Finding myself outside the community, without even basic knowledge of English grammar and math, made me bitter and angry. I felt like my education had been sacrificed on the altar of the Rebbe’s messiahship. Sitting through the GED exam at the age of 23 was a humbling experience. As I filled out the exam, I kept coming back to the same question: “How could my own father have denied me a basic secular education, when he was given the best education in the world?”
I did become the Torah scholar my parents envisioned me to be, but my loss of conviction undermined my ability to share this knowledge with others. I understand why Chabad followers tenaciously hold on to the Rebbe’s messianic identity, as letting go can call into question their very faith in Orthodox Judaism. My family and friends are not burdened by the New Testament since they consider such knowledge off limits. But my own inquisitive nature would not allow me to block out information and knowledge, however forbidden it was considered by my community.
With time, I came to understand that my parents joined the Chabad movement without fully understanding the theological and philosophical underpinnings of the community itself. The great irony is that it was my own belief in the Rebbe’s messianic identity that led to my disenchantment with the community my parents fought so hard to join. Ultimately, the Talmud was correct when it stated, “He who adds to the Torah will eventually come to subtract from the Torah.”
Today, I am skeptical of religious claims, especially of a messianic nature. I discovered classical music and opera at the age of 30. Listening to Mahler’s Fifth at Carnegie Hall can only be described as transformative. I wept though the heartbreaking Adagio. I guess I was crying for my lost faith and lost Rebbe. Verdi’s Aida taught me that from time immemorial, people have been trying to connect to the infinite and the eternal.
I suppose the messianic psychology of the current Chabad movement is not very different from the messianic fervor that took hold of the early followers of Jesus, or that occurs in other movements that hold up a leader as the one and only savior and embrace apocalyptic visions of the “end times” when their deceased leader will return. The times may have changed, but the impulse is the same. If only I could join in.
Notes:
- This form of inquiry is known as “bibliomancy.”
- For example, giving out one-dollar bills on Sunday for charity and distributing wine at the conclusion of Jewish festivals.
- See David Berger, The Rebbe, the Messiah, and the Scandal of Orthodox Indifference (Littman Library of Jewish Civilization, 2008).
- A new organization, Jewish Educational Media, jemedia.org, was founded in order to keep the Rebbe and his message alive for his faithful followers.
- Joel Marcus, “The Once and Future Messiah in Early Christianity and Chabad,” New Testament Studies 47, no. 3 (July 2001): 381–401.
- Sabbatai Zevi (1626–1676), a Sephardic rabbi and mystic, was proclaimed the Messiah in 1666, with vast numbers of Jews swept up in the Sabbatean messianic fervor. Despite his forced conversion to Islam and death a few years later, a small sect continued to believe in his messianic identity. To this day, the aftershocks of the false messianism of the Sabbatean movement continue to reverberate within the Jewish community.
Joseph Newfield grew up in the insular Hasidic community in Crown Heights, Brooklyn. He is currently pursuing writing and working on a memoir tentatively titled “Growing Up in the Shadow of the Messiah.” He lives in New York City.
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My little nephew is on his second year at OT, the main Chabad school, and I asked him where mashiach is, and he pointed to the large picture of the Rebbe on the wall.
Every shul / synagogue I have been to in Crown Heights chant Yechi, proclaiming the rebbe as Mashiach
Is this sufficient proof that those kids are raised to believe the Rebbe is the Mashiach, and continue to believe as they become adults in shul to this day? 29 years, 2 months, and 24 days since the date of his passing OBM???
These kids are spreading all over the world and although may not express these beliefs they still hold it inside. It is beyond messed up
Previously you can start a new chabad house and support your family but today there aren’t enough locations in the world for all these kids and they leave school with no skills to support a family. The rebbe going against secular education maybe have been ok 59 years ago, when they didn’t need it as much, but where would they go today?
There is no scientific proof that any of the tales I was told and read growing up are actually true, or something outside of nature. If I tell you an apple will fall from the tree and it falls, well that what apples do. If one will lend 10 feet away from the tree well they do that as well.
If I say things, some happen and some do not, and you only advertise or emphasize the ones that were correct (pirsumei nissa, spread the word about miracles) and not the ones that were incorrect so as not to talk bad about a respected rebbe, then guess what, you end up with a population sustained on kool-aid
Please read
When Prophecy Fails: A Social & Psychological Study of a Modern Group that Predicted the Destruction of the World
Thos is the study that came up with the term, Cognitive Dissonance, and applies to the followers of both Jesus and the Rebbe
Thank you Joseph. I appreciated hearing your journey. I liked the detail you provided on how you came to your final conclusion that Schneerson is not the promised Messiah.
I heard of Rabbi Schneerson when visiting Israel in 2015. This week I was looking at my photo album from that trip, and got curious to see what new information was online about him. And this led me to your article.
The comment made by someone encouraging you to ask HIM to reveal Himself to you is good advice. I hope you do that. I hear a longing in you for more revelation.
I want to share a website with you. I pray that you are still open-minded to listen to some testimonies of fellows Jews who were on a similar path. Here is the website- https://www.oneforisrael.org/met-messiah-jewish-testimonies/.
I will pray for you Joseph. I hear a heart to know Him. Do not give up. May your eyes be opened and your soul saved.
Blessings.
Gina,
I looked at the website you refered to and I am sorry to say it is nothing more than nonsense. Why the Messaiah would reveal himself to so few Jews? The Messiah’s mission is to bring salavation to all humanity. Jews pray three times a day for thousands of years for the Messiah to come…if Jesus was the Messiah he would have answered those prayers and reveal himself to every Jew. But he did not!
If you are sincere about the Moshiach, you can know for sure get on your knees and challange HIM with respect. Ask HIM to reveal HIMSELF to you. You must be sincere ,not curious, HE will know your true intension. When HE does, don’t count it as some co-incedent, remember it forever. HE may turn you over to ignorance. HE behave with you as you behave with HIM.
HIS name is YESHUA HE is living right now. HE is very real. You would do well to read “Job”
and then call on HIM.You speak to the creator of the world, not your neighbor.
I have met HIM and HEhas changed me, over 48 yrs ago. I know with out a doubt He is Moshiach. The old testament will prove it. And so will His revealing to you also.I would be just happy to speak to you on this issue.
A well-researched sefer by Rabbi Aharon Yaakov Lieberman on how Moshiach can be from among those who passed away and received haskamos from Chabad scholars and 2 Litvish ones. https://shmoishelmoshiach.com/download/
The Rebbe teaches that a funeral does not disqualify someone from being considered the Messiah. See Maamar Basi Legani 5711, Tazria-Metzora 5751 and a million places in between and after. The Rebbe knows Halacha. Some people trust the Rebbe, some people don’t. If someone is serious about this issue they shouldn’t rely on some article and its comments, they should go straight to the source and study the Rebbe’s Sichos & Maamarim & Letters and decide for yourself. Brocho Vehatzlocho.
The Rebbe is not disqualified from being the Messiah upon his death because the Rebbe said so? Is that what you’re telling me? Is there anything you would not believe in order to fulfill a righteous arrogant need to be better than others (non-believers)?
Just another hatchet job on Orthodox Judaism from someone who left the fold and delights in maligning his former community while engaging in self-justification. Seems to be very fashionable nowadays. This one has a Chabad twist. But, yawn.
Your children will grow to deny and resent you as well, as you have denied them the opportunity for self liberation though an education. Do not think yourself a grand father, if your child points to an old dead man as the messiah and does not know his multiplication tables by his mid twenties, as is a common occurrence in Brooklyn. Fear is religion.
Rachmunu Litzlan from those who still believe the Rebbe is the Messiah still to come. Kofrim . Get on with your lives. You are creating a huge Chilul Hashem with this open belief. Believe in your heart what u want but don’t create a new Xtianity.
Hashem yerachem.
I am no Habadnik but there is a basis for many of their curious practices in the Gemara:
“Rabbi Berekhiya in the name of Rabbi Levi: As was the first redeemer so is the last redeemer: Just as the first redeemer was revealed and then hidden from them—and how long was he hidden? Three months, as it says, And they encountered Moses and Aaron [implying a sudden encounter after an absence] (Exodus 5:20)—so the last redeemer will be revealed to them, and then hidden from them” (Rut Rabbah 5:6).
“Rabbi Ḥama son of Ḥanina said: The righteous are greater in their death than in their life” (BT Ḥullin 7b).
“Jacob our father did not die…, as is said: As for you, do not fear, My servant Jacob—said YHWH—and do not be afraid, O Israel, for I am about to rescue you from afar and your seed from the land of their captivity (Jeremiah 30:10)—the verse compares him to his seed; just as his seed is alive, so he too is alive” (BT Ta’anit 5b).
“[Rabbi Yehudah ha-Nasi said about the time after his death:] ‘The light shall continue to burn in its usual place, the table shall be laid in its usual place [and my] bed shall be spread in its usual place.’ What is the reason?—He used to come home again at twilight every Sabbath Eve. On a certain Sabbath Eve a neighbour came to the door speaking aloud, when his handmaid whispered, ‘Be quiet for Rabbi is sitting there.’ As soon as he heard this he came no more, in order that no reflection might be cast on the earlier saints” (BT Ketubbot 103a).
“[Rav said:] Every נָחָשׁ (naḥash), divination, which is not of the sort pronounced by Eli’ezer, Abraham’s servant, or by Jonathan the son of Saul, is not considered a divination! … Rav used to regard a ferry-boat [as a sign]. Shemu’el a [passage in a] book, and Rabbi Yoḥanan [a verse quoted] by a child” (BT Ḥullin 95b).
“[King Messiah—] Rav said: If he is of the living, it would be our holy Rabbi [Yehudah ha-Nasi]; if of the dead, he [would have been] like Daniel, the [most] beloved man. Rav Yehudah said in Rav’s name: The blessed Holy One will raise up another David for them, as is written, But they shall serve YHWH their God and David their king whom I will raise up for them (ibid., 9): not הַקִים (haqim), I raised up, but אָקִים (aqim), I will raise up. Rav Papa said to Abbaye: But it is written, And My servant David shall be prince over them evermore (Ezekiel 37:25) [and prince is a lower title than king!]—such as caesar and little caesar [i.e., the second David will be king, and the former David will be his viceroy]” (BT Sanhedrin 98b).
The author has neglected to address a fundamental concept that would have allayed his misgivings. Chabadnikim do not “believe” that the Rebbe is Moshiach. Rather they look into Maimonides’ sefer that describes the requirements that must be fulfilled to qualify. Had the author truly studied the Rambam, he would not had a spiritual crisis, nor would he had written this mis-informed article.
Lubavitch has so many faces today. A large group has stayed observant but has become modern and is business and career oriented and not so into any of this. You realize that Crown Heights has become the center of the kosher gourmet food culture.
So many of the shluchim are doing their own thing in places where there is little Yiddishkeit and they have to create a Jewish atmosphere where there is none. From the shluchim I know these beliefs are on the back burner if there at all after 26 years. Their own Chabad houses and mosdos are created and sustained with misiras nefesh in many cases and that is their focus. All fruma Yiddin believe in Techias Hamasim and I think the Rebbe is seen in those terms. When Heaven will decide its time.
The Rebbes beliefs and accomplishments are an interesting subject but my own observations are that most of American Lubavitch today is very mainstream and that the Meschism around 3 Tammuz is much less than it was. I can tell you from personal experience that many Lubavitcher Chassidim never were into this after 3 Tammuz. David Berger’s hysterical rantings were not relevant to a large number of Lubavitcher Chassidim. Yes there were extreme Mechistin 20 years ago but I believe that much of this isn’t relevant today among the Lubavitcher Chassidim I know.
David Berger’s writings are not hysterical.
They are thought-provoking and well-researched.
Pity people don’t know how to take a good look at themselves.
Rabbi Joseph Newfield wrote an interesting article.
Friends, Rabbi Joseph Newfield mentioned the great sage Miamonidies, but this article does not mention a very important & critical point about Torah and Judaism, that The Rambam said!
Non other than the great Litvischer sage, Rabbi Aaron Soleveitchik also stated it!
What is it…?
There could be three stages of Moshiach:
1. Possible, questionable Moshiach ( Suffek Moshiach)
2. Most certainly might be Moshiach (‘Chezkas Moshiach.’)
3. Moshiach Vadei ( Definitely Moshiach)
And, yes, Moshiach can come from The ‘dead.’ This is Jewish-Torah Law.
Rabbi Solovetchik said The Rebbe was definitely #2.
This is a complicated matter. The Rebbe, like Schrodinger’s cat is both dead and not dead. And it doesn’t matter which. As a belonged to Chabad I have pondered the questions you raise. At first blush when the Rebbe died, the way the Chasidim memorialized him did remind me of Christianity. I remember thinking, Don’t they realize that this is just like Christianity? Maybe not. It is said the Rebbe lives on in the 4000 Chabad houses that have been established across the world. Maybe the Messiah is an idea and set of values that redeem the world through historical progression. Couldn’t Moshe Dayan have rebuilt the Third Temple? Would that have made him the Messiah? But he blew it big time. You can believe that the Rebbe was the Messiah while believing you won’t see him until tekias hamaysim. In the mean time, don’t look too closely in the cat box.
Keel sail
I am impressed by the excellent article. Author Joseh Newfield if you are serious about this very personal and painful subject, must read — Open Secret: Postmessianic Messianism and the Mystical … by Elliot Wolfson. I read it about 10 years ago,
There is a website — www (dot) shmoishelmoshiach (dot) com — that shows belief in moshiach from the dead was a very common belief during the times of the sages and that the rambam didn’t rule out moshiach from the dead.
There is free downloads of of his thesis and video content too.
One of the great qualities of Judaism has long been that it is a religion (and culture) that emphasizes Practice over Belief. It is also a culture of argumentation. The down side is that for those who feel the need of absolute knowledge, they will be frustrated. Everything is a work in progress, and multiple opinions — even dialectical thinking — are the norm. This usually confers some degree of immunity against absolutist thinking and, hence, the kind of profound, even tragic, disappointment Newfield describes. To the extent that Hasidism successfully rebelled against the excessively academic forms of Rabbinic Judaism, allowing ordinary people to experience closeness to the Divine through non-intellectual means (dancing and song, etc.), it made a great contribution to the main streams of Judaism. But to the extent that psychosocially it was organized by fealty to one or another Rebbe, it takes on elements of cultism, and moves from an actively pluralistic Talmudic way of thinking to a closed system of thought which needs more and more to barricade itself against any other viewpoints. Some years ago I was in a class in which the rabbi offered what to me was an enormously helpful way to think about what Theology is. He emphasized that what is basic are the experiences we have of proximity to the Divine, and that theology is an attempt to put those experiences into words. It is not something that is meant to replace the experiences themselves, but to nurture them and to communicate to others in a way which helps them in their own spiritual lives. In that sense it is poetical, and not subject to the kinds of ‘beliefs’ that are part of our material lives — I ‘believe’ my computer is made of plastic and wires and microchips, not because I understand how it works, but because it’s the kind of thing whose workings can be practically demonstrated (and some people actually do understand its workings). I do not ‘believe in’ G-d in the same way. Rather, I experience moments of closeness to something beyond myself, something marvelous and holy, and I use the wide variety of methods of my religion to further those experiences and to express my gratitude and draw strength from them, and to see my fellow human beings increasingly as having their own sparks of divinity. Which in turn entails the fundamental ethical practices of Judaism and many other religions. In this way my knowledge of so-called secular subjects only enhances my religious life, and allows me to enjoy the process of wondering and creating questions with less need to ‘answer’ the Eternal ones. As Hamlet declaims: ‘the readiness is all.’
You make sweeping generalizations about the entire Chabad community, but refer to those who wear “Long Live Our Master, Our Teacher, Our Rebbe, Forever and Ever” on their yarmulkes. If you are involved in Chabad, you know those a distinct minority in the Chabad community and generally aren’t given leadership in Chabad’s outreach or shluchis. So I guess what I want to know, is are you claiming that ALL Chabad Hasidim (or at least, the vast majority), including the majority of Shluchim (and others in leadership, like their educational arm Merkos L’Inoynei Chinuch), believe the Rebbe is coming back from the dead to assume his messiahship? I’m also not referring to Israeli Chabad Hasidim who are generally much more inclined to the Messianic tendencies.
This too is something I would like to better understand, though I am increasingly inclined to believe the majority are strong believers in his messianic divinity. They simply talk in hints, metaphors or possibilities. But a quick perusal of some major Chabad websites seem to confirm that the belief is mainstream.
At last someone speaking some sense here.
There is a joke that is perhaps the most appropriate way to reply to Rabbi Moshe Miller. The joke goes: How many Chabadnikim does it take to change a light bulb. The answer: None. Because they don’t believe that the light bulb has burned out! I ask Rabbi Miller, after seeing the exponential growth of Chabad over the last 30 year, and the success of shluchim who were born after Gimmel Tammuz, do you really think the light bulb has burned out?
As someone who grew up Chabad and is no longer frum, I relate to this article so much. But is it really a majority? I was at least raised to believe that the Rebbe was only a potential messiah, and once he died was no longer a “candidate”. Is that rare in Chabad?
Depends on who you ask. In numbers, or in level of scholarship? I think it’s a majority in numbers, but among the more intellectual chasidim, it’s not. Because scholarship, in any group, is usually achieved by a minority. Those who understand the problem find ways to tolerate it to keep the peace, and they reason that there’s technically no prohibition in the Torah to hold such beliefs as long as it doesn’t affect a person’s faith and observance in other ways.
Generally, when someone presents what is rare or common in a society, it’s slanted to a view and not based on scientific polling. Certainly when it comes to what is in Chabad that’s the case. Some people don’t even introspect enough to clarify to themselves what they truly believe, many don’t share what they believe even if they do clarify such to themselves. And today, it’s challenging to quantify what is chabad at all. And then there’s religious theology, which inherently is open to various and conflicting perspectives. So, as a person who previously considered himself and was very much part of and was born into chabad, I can tell you that there were many different beliefs amongst chabad folks. And there was what seemed to me to be silent majority of non-committed folks who did what they had to so be considered mainstream, and did not go on any extreme. Same for halacha. there are sources to support belief in someone as potential. and death does not change that – depending on what “level” and “type” of messiah and messianic revelation occurs. And straying from answering your question – I think ortho-judaism doesn’t care about your specifics of messianic beliefs, as long as you believe it will happen and didn’t happen yet. It’s integral to orthodoxy to have the carrot always ahead of the horse.
That’s always been my understanding generally as well. That even those who believe Moshaich can come from the dead (they cite to a discussion in the Talmud) – I thought they only hoped it would be the Rebbe. However, the author here is making it seem that there is some secret Chabad “the Rebbe is Moshiach” handshake or practices within the Chabad community that is kept out of ear/eyeshot of those outside of the community (and those who patronize Chabad houses).
He seems to have come from a real “meshichist” Chabad background considering he was wearing a “yechi Yarmulke” in the open like that and cavorted with others who were doing so.
That’s why I think it’s important to understand if he’s claiming this is widespread amongst the general shluchim as well.
In my experience the Shluchim deny it or say it is a minority belief, but only in order to not shock their more secular or mainstream audiences who of course would abhor the notion that their local, respected rabbonim are meshichistim.
You know what they harbor in their hearts through prophecy? Perhaps you should submit your personal candidacy as Moshiach, now that the Rebbe is gone.