מֵהַנְהָגוֹת אַאַמוּ"ר: כְּשֶׁנָּסַע מִבֵּיתוֹ, אַף שֶׁנִּשְׁאַר בְּמָקוֹם אֶחָד כַּמָּה חֳדָשִׁים, הָיָה אוֹמֵר בְּכָל יוֹם אַחַר הַתְּפִלָּה תְּפִלַּת הַדֶּרֶךְ — בְּלֹא שֵׁם וּמַלְכוּת.

Among the practices of my revered father, the Rebbe [Rashab]: When traveling from home, he would recite the Prayer for Travelers1 every day after the morning prayers — albeit without mentioning G‑d’s Name or His sovereignty — though he might remain in a single place for several months.2

Probing Beneath the Surface

This practice of the Rebbe Rashab reminds us that in This World we are mere travelers.

A middle-class visitor to the home of the Maggid of Mezritch once remarked on its meager and austere furniture.

“Tell me,” the Maggid asked him gently, “why haven’t you got your furniture with you?”

“My furniture?!” the visitor replied in surprise. “But I’m only a wayfarer passing by!”

“So am I,” said the Maggid. “I, too, am only a wayfarer passing by….”

*

On another level, the story of every Jew’s life is a microcosm of the Jewish people’s trek through the desert.3 Every place at which we stay, regardless of how long we are there, is a step toward a new journey.4 Its ultimate destination is Eretz Yisrael — in the perfected state that it will attain after the arrival of Mashiach.

All of our journeys in life thus share the same goal: to take us out of Egypt — the confining limitations of the material world5 — and bring us to “a good and spacious land.”6 On a national scale, too, the odyssey of the Jewish people in the desert was the model for all future Jewish wandering, which ultimately is to lead us all to the final goal, the Messianic era. Our challenge is never to lose sight of the end-point of the journey, nor to cease directing our energies to arrive there.7