Mr. Elliot Lasky, a spiritual seeker, once came to see the Rebbe with a burning question.
“In our prayers, we proclaim, Hear O Israel, Hashem is our G‑d, Hashem is One. Rebbe, Hashem is One seems like a universal statement. Why does the Torah single out the people of Israel? How can it be said that the Creator of all is ‘our’ G‑d? Isn’t there only one G‑d for all peoples, whether you’re a Jew, an African, or an Indian?”
The Rebbe replied: “The essence of an African is to be who he truly is as an African; the essence of an Indian is to be who he truly is as an Indian. And the essence of a Jew is to be bound to G‑d through His Torah and mitzvot.”1
Here, the Rebbe reveals an essential clue in our quest to unearth our sacred purpose. Your life circumstances, such as family, community, tradition, and the environment into which you were born, are an intrinsic part of your selfhood as fashioned by G‑d. You were born into a cradle of circumstance intended to help nurture you into the person you were made to be, starting with the spiritual tradition into which you were born.
In contrast to this providential approach to one’s roots, religious traditions for millennia have invested in growing their numbers and seeking to convert people from other traditions to their own. At the heart of these efforts is the satisfaction and validation of drawing others into your world, as well as the pride of having delivered salvation to the members of an opposing tradition.
The Jewish approach is decidedly different. While Judaism is welcoming to converts, it does not proselytize.
This is because Judaism does not believe you must be Jewish to find G‑d, spiritual enlightenment, salvation, or to live righteously. From the Jewish perspective, there are seven laws handed down since Noah that represent a universal code of morality, and by following these laws, every human being can live a life in accordance with G‑d.2 Judaism believes that every human being is created in the Divine image, that each has a mission to fulfill, and that one need not be Jewish to fulfill their G‑d-given purpose.
This was the message provided to renowned psychological researcher and Yale Professor Reuven Feurstein when he came before the Rebbe with a unique moral and cultural dilemma.
At the time, Feurstein had been working with the Navajo tribe to develop programs that would help them preserve their tribal cultural knowledge across generations. In the process of learning about the tribe’s symbolism and icons of worship, the question arose for Feurstein— as an observant Jew, should he be involved in training the Navajo to transmit their unique mythology? After weeks of wrestling with the question, Prof. Feurstein decided to seek the Rebbe’s counsel and received the following response:
“[So long as one is not facilitating idolatry], it is our duty as Jewish people to reinforce and encourage other cultures to fulfill the Sheva Mitzvot Bnei Noach (the Seven Noahide Laws). This duty is of great importance. They must be what they are…it is our duty to teach them these seven laws.”
Leaving space for everyone to be who G‑d made them to be is among the reasons that Jewish wisdom prohibits proselytizing and rejects those who would petition to become converts three times—to ensure that the tremendous commitment of conversion is understood and honored, and that G‑d’s plans for the would-be convert are not circumvented in pursuit of a tradition that is not part of their Divine design.3
For example: Once, a non-Jewish spiritual seeker who was considering converting to Judaism shared her interest with the Rebbe and sought his advice about whether she should proceed.
The Rebbe replied that she was already good as she was and need not convert to find meaning and purpose in life, as she had already been given a mission by G‑d. The Rebbe concluded by encouraging her to continue forward in her current tradition, living a meaningful life according to G‑d’s unique plan for her, and reminding her of the Seven Noahide Laws meant for all peoples on earth.4
Another time, when approached by a young, non-Jewish woman who was insistent on conversion, despite her parents’ strong opposition, he responded:
“Why would you engage in a major, emotionally-straining split and conflict with your parents and with all your childhood friends, to take upon yourself the yoke of Torah and mitzvot [which would impact] every single step of your life—something that you are not obligated to do in your current status? [Instead], keep the Seven Noahide Laws properly, be kind to other people, and make complete amends with your parents.”5
In situations like these, the Rebbe often encouraged people to reconsider changing their spiritual identity and tradition, reminding them that their primary responsibility is to G‑d, and that honoring that responsibility is often best served by exploring the tradition into which they were born.
Like a Fish in Water
The Rebbe was also frequently approached by Jews who had come to doubt the primacy of their own spiritual inheritance and wondered if they might find more beauty and depth in other traditions.
His response was simple: Jewishness is an honor and a gift, and it represents the most natural source of vitality and nourishment for the Jewish soul. The Rebbe saw the Jewish soul as being healthiest and most fulfilled when in alignment with Torah.
“...The inner peace and harmony of a Jew is closely associated with living Jewishly in the fullest measure, for, as our Sages put it, Jewishness for a Jew is what water is for a fish. And just as a fish cannot feel happy and content when it gets out of its natural element, so it is with a Jew who, for one reason or another, becomes neglectful of the proper Jewish way of life.”6 7
In a letter he wrote to a young man who had lapsed in his practice of Judaism, the Rebbe clarifies this point further:
“I must take exception to what you call at the conclusion of your letter, ‘my lost Judaism.’ The expression ‘lost’ does not really fit here, for no person can lose something that is his or her true essence and inner nature.”8
Again, the Rebbe reminds us that our commitment to ourselves and our own personal growth begins with honoring the tradition given to us by G‑d. No matter what value is to be found in the beauty of other cultures and traditions, our purpose is wed to the tradition into which we were born, and that should be the first place we go looking for it, no matter how challenging.
This was the case with a Jewish girl who had joined the Rebbe for yechidut at the behest of her parents. Upon arrival, she made a point of declaring her belief that no one has the right to impose a worldview on another.
The Rebbe listened and then asked gently, “Why did you come here?”
“Because I was brought here,” she replied.
“But didn’t you say that one shouldn’t follow others’ directives?” the Rebbe probed.
With this question, the girl softened her tone. She then asked the Rebbe whether she should travel to India to familiarize herself with way of life of other peoples, or whether she should stay in the United States and continue her studies.
“If you will heed my advice,” the Rebbe counseled her, “stay here. In India, you will learn other people’s lifestyles; here, you will learn your own.”
Touched by the Rebbe’s words, she decided to stay in New York, and she later built a beautiful Chasidic family.9
Native Soil, Native Soul
Notably, the Rebbe encouraged many different Jews who came to him for guidance to deepen their connection to their own specific variation of Jewish tradition, custom, culture, and heritage. It would be easy to assume that as a Chasidic Rebbe who was deeply committed to the Chabad approach to Judaism, the Rebbe would use every opportunity to encourage those who were keen to adopt Chabad customs. But, perhaps counterintuitively, the Rebbe encouraged individuals to maintain their rich, unique Jewish customs rather than trade them in for the particular ways of Chabad.
One example among many is found in the story of Moshe Rappaport, a descendant of great Chasidic rabbis of Poland, who approached the Rebbe with a conundrum regarding prayer traditions. Just eighteen years old at the time, Moshe had become enamored with the Chabad customs of prayer, despite being born into the Radomsker tradition. His fascination with Chabad, and his desire to begin praying according to its customs, had met with fierce opposition from his father, who was dedicated to the traditions of his native Chasidic dynasty.
The Rebbe replied, “Since your family’s customs are also based on the teachings of the Arizal [the great sixteenth-century Kabbalist R. Yitzchak Luria], it is advisable that you continue to keep them and that you pray according to nusach Sephard.”10
The young man did as he was instructed by the Rebbe and continued to pray in the manner of his father and homeland.11
The Rebbe gave similar advice to members of every conceivable tradition and custom, reminding them to honor the profound sanctity of their unique way, among the many ways of being Jewish. In fact, he warned that attempts to subsume diversity were ill advised, even in the name of peace and community.
The Rebbe’s advocacy for honoring one’s tradition spanned the globe and became part of a multi-dimensional, lifelong effort to help people of all Jewish traditions preserve and thrive in the native soil into which G‑d had planted them in order to most productively germinate their purpose in life.
For example, R. Avraham Alashvili recounts that when his father, R. Rafael Alashvili, immigrated from his native Georgia to Israel, he made a detour to New York to seek the Rebbe’s guidance on adjusting to his new life in the Holy Land.
During that audience, the Rebbe asked the elder R. Alashvili to describe Shabbat in the village of Kulashi, from whence he came. Beginning with preparations on Friday afternoon and evening, he described in detail the unique and precious practices in his community, noting that in Georgia, the Shabbat spirit fills the entire day to the extent that there is no time for anything else.
When the Rebbe heard this, he said, “If only our Shabbos was like this.”
The Rebbe expressed his satisfaction and admiration that a group of Soviet Jews, isolated from the rest of the Jewish world, were so passionate and diligent in keeping Judaism alive, despite the difficulties involved. The elder R. Alashvili then asked the Rebbe whether he should use the Chabad prayer books and adopt Chabad customs, or whether he should keep his Georgian traditions alive and continue in the ways of the place he called home.
The Rebbe replied, “If you, the rabbis, were to change customs, people might think that these traditions aren’t worthwhile and drop everything. It would have a negative impact. You may see it as a positive move, but they could lose everything. You must continue your tradition and pray from your prayer book so that your community will also maintain all of its traditions. Don’t change anything.”12
No matter where you were born, no matter what you came to this earth to do, your journey begins at home and emerges from the tradition into which you were born, which has already shaped you in countless, imperceivable ways. If you, like so many today, feel a deep desire to expand your spiritual horizons, consider journeying deeper into the tradition that G‑d chose as part of your Divine design. There are so many glorious, exotic, and beautiful paths to G‑d, but the path your ancestors walked is precious. Despite the novelty and pull of today’s plethora of options, there is no substitute for deep roots, holy heritage, and a sense of belonging when seeking your place and striving to fulfill your unique purpose in the world.
Quiz Yourself
Do the Thought Exercise
Identify 2-3 of the Jewish customs and traditions you observe. Think about your family’s history and try to trace the trail that brought those traditions into your life.
Take the Challenge
You were born into a spiritual tradition intended to help nurture you into the person you were made to be. Choose one way you will journey deeper into that tradition.
Join the Discussion