One of the most common and fraught arenas of conflict between my world and the world, as referenced in Chapter Six, is the home. While searching for our place in the world, it is all too easy to seek meaning, fulfillment, and a sense of purpose far from those who are closest to us.
This was the case with a troubled mother who confided to the Rebbe that she felt lost and without purpose. The Rebbe replied:
“I received your letter…In it you write that you really do not understand your place in the world, etc. At the same time, you begin [the letter] with the good news that you and your husband have been blessed with good children.
The above already contains the answer to your question...you can well understand that having been blessed with the greatest gift, the gift of children, [and having been blessed] to bring them up as “children of Hashem [G‑d],” you have been provided with the necessary capacities to carry out this great privilege and pleasure in the fullest measure, and with joy and gladness of heart.”1
Today, a growing number of people are deprioritizing their family lives in the name of their career and other pursuits—social activism, personal accomplishment, and material success, among others. This, in part, accounts for statistics showing that nearly ninety percent of the world’s population now live in countries with falling marriage rates.2
This is symptomatic of an emergent social phenomenon that author, columnist, and political scientist Derek Thompson calls “workism,” which he defines as the “belief that work is not only necessary to economic production, but also the centerpiece of one’s identity and life’s purpose.”3 For so many people today, family simply comes second—or even third or fourth.
One’s professional success used to be considered a necessary means to an end. Work was once seen as a way to support and sustain one’s family life. But for a growing number of people in our society, a career has become an end unto itself.
This phenomenon is also prevalent among service-driven individuals, whose natural inclination is to serve causes outside the home. How many therapists, philanthropists, activists, politicians, and community leaders have dedicated their lives to the care of others, only to lose sight of, or fall out of touch with, the people closest to them?4
And while hard work, personal growth, social activism, and financial success are all undoubtedly worthwhile and necessary pursuits, the Rebbe repeatedly reminded those blessed with family and children that no ambition should be pursued at the expense of those closest to home.
It is worth noting that this cornerstone of the Rebbe’s worldview follows the Mishnaic teaching about how to prioritize one’s charitable giving:
“If you have the choice between supporting those who are poor in your family or the poor of your city, the poor in your family take precedence.”5
This notion is the basis of the well-known aphorism: “Charity begins at home.”
Just as G‑d granted each of us a set of unique sparks scattered throughout the world to engage and elevate, so were we assigned a short list of other souls to elevate. First and foremost among these precious souls are our families—spouse, children, parents, and siblings. These souls were hand-picked by G‑d and entrusted to us—as we were entrusted to them—to be primary among those we are responsible to help support, shepherd, and shape. Accordingly, caring for these souls ought to be the paramount focus and locus of our purpose in life.
As the Rebbe once told a man experiencing domestic strife:
“The true greatness of a person lies in fulfilling their mission in life and acting in a way that brings joy and peace to the members of one’s family.”6
One Mission Above All
This paradigm was especially crucial to emphasize during the earliest days of the Rebbe’s leadership, which began just five years after the declared end of World War II. During this time, the majority of the Chabad-Lubavitch community lived a relatively insular existence, protected and ensconced in the Crown Heights neighborhood of Brooklyn. Following the trauma of the war, Crown Heights had become a cultural and spiritual safe haven for many in the Chabad community. Boldly, the Rebbe turned the intense, community focus of his Chasidim outward to impact the world beyond their shtetl. He directed his students to leave the comforts of their homes and familiarity of their community behind and travel to the farthest corners of the earth to care for Jews who were seeking guidance or were estranged from their spiritual heritage.
As described by the late Chief Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, “The Rebbe undertook the most daring spiritual initiative ever undertaken in the history of humanity, [he made it his mission] to search out every Jew with love as they had once been hunted down in hate.”7
This was to be the work of the Chabad shluchim, a radical expansion of the original impetus of Chasidism as outlined by the Baal Shem Tov: To bring teachings and acts of loving-kindness to the farthest reaches of the earth.
The Rebbe knew that those sent on such missions would be called on to give of themselves tirelessly day and night. They would need to be available to the entire Jewish community for all of its needs, and, in many cases, they would be the only Jewish point of contact in their city, state, or even country. Knowing that their lives would likely be overtaken by their missions, the Chasidim who accepted were reminded time and again that another mission must be honored above all others—that of nurturing their families and raising their children to live by the highest standard of Chasidic values and integrity.
The Rebbe offered this truth to R. Nosson and Miriam Gurary before they left for their posting in Buffalo, NY, in 1971. He wished them success in their mission and in establishing a home. He then emphasized in no uncertain terms:
“The ultimate objective of everything [of your entire relocation from Brooklyn to Buffalo on shlichut] is to experience Chasidishe nachat (spiritual fulfillment) from your children.”8
Here the Rebbe distinguished what the Gurary’s main shlichut was while living in Buffalo. It was not, as one might assume, strictly the hallowed outreach they would perform in the community. Rather, it was the sacred inreach they would do with their own children, in their own home.
Casualties of Work
Oftentimes, one of the first casualties of living a life devoted to communal service is the relationship with one’s spouse. When life gets hectic, it is all too common to overlook the needs of our most intimate partner and privilege pressing communal commitments in the name of “saving the world.” We might tell ourselves that our spouse is self-sufficient and thus reserve only the remnants of our energies for them. Here, again, we find the potential pitfall of allowing the world to eclipse my world.
In advising others, and by his own living example, the Rebbe repeatedly highlighted the need to prioritize one’s spouse above all else with unwavering, sacred emphasis.
He illustrated this cardinal value once to R. Gershon Mendel Garelik, who had been sent to Milan in 1959 as one of the pioneering shluchim. During yechidut with the Rebbe, R. Garelik said he was struggling under the tremendous weight of his responsibilities in Italy. After describing his struggles, the Rebbe gently asked, “And how is your relationship with your wife?”
The Rebbe then made an unusual request. He asked R. Garelik to write a note describing the dynamics of his marriage and how it was holding up under the stresses of their work.
At the end of his note, in which he had elaborated on his wife’s many virtues, R. Garelik wrote: “Perhaps I should not have been so profuse in describing my wife’s qualities.”
The Rebbe crossed out the word “not” and underlined the word “should,” leaving the sentence to read:
“I should not have been so profuse in describing my wife’s qualities.”
Without a single word, the Rebbe underscored for the overburdened Chabad luminary responsible for Jewish life throughout all of Italy that his foremost mission is, and will always be, to care for and cherish his wife.
The Rebbe further reinforced this sacrosanct value in conversation with R. Garelik as he was leaving for Milan after a visit to New York. Asked by the Rebbe’s chief secretary, R. Hodakov, if he was going to return home with a present for his wife, R. Garelik said he had bought her some cakes from a legendary local bakery, as such kosher delicacies were not available in his new hometown. R. Hodakov suggested that he should buy her a present that better reflected her preciousness—perhaps something made of gold. After some deliberation, R. Garelik decided to buy her a watch.
Remarkably, the Rebbe took a personal interest in ensuring that this present was special. A jeweler who had recently opened a store nearby was invited to 770 to bring some options to consider. The Rebbe then proceeded to assist R. Garelik with his choice. At one point, the Rebbe duly emphasized to R. Garelik the importance of treating his wife as though she were the most important person in the world, despite all of the demands of his communal role.
“I don’t know what to say,” Rebbetzin Garelik said in response to the powerful influence the Rebbe had on her husband. “I just know that I have a very magnificent husband who treats me superbly…[this he learned from] the Rebbe being so meyaker [cherishing of] his wife, which made its importance especially clear to him…”
Stories of the Rebbe’s own example are many, and they are particularly moving in light of the tremendous weight of his global responsibilities: from answering letters by the thousands, to directing international outreach efforts, to receiving countless people seeking guidance in private audience, all in addition to leading his vast community on a daily basis.9
And yet, the Rebbe viewed the precious time spent with his dear wife and life partner, Rebbetzin Chayah Mushka, as absolutely sacred and on par with one of the greatest Biblical commandments.
As he once told Dr. Ira Weiss, a cardiologist who treated both the Rebbe and the Rebbetzin and enjoyed a close relationship with both of them:
“The time I set to have tea with my wife every day is as important to me as the Biblical commandment to put on tefillin every day.”10
Father of One
When considering the true magnitude of our holy command to honor family above all, the Rebbe drew inspiration from Judaism’s very first shliach, if you will, Abraham. In his attempt to spread the word and light of G‑d in the world, Abraham pitched his tent in the wilderness, welcoming all passersby without exception, extending them love and connection, in an effort to help draw them closer to the teachings of monotheism. Soon after the passing of his wife, Sarah, Abraham married a woman named Keturah, who is identified by Rabbinic tradition as his former wife, Hagar, Sarah’s arch-nemesis and a source of deep trauma during her lifetime.11 So contentious was their relationship and the threat posed by Hagar’s son Ishmael to the life of Sarah’s son, Isaac,12 that Sarah had them banished from their home, leading to their estrangement from Abraham.
This begs the question: Given their troubled history, how could Abraham desecrate Sarah’s memory by returning to Hagar so soon after her passing, especially considering that Hagar had returned to her idolatrous past upon leaving Abraham’s home?13
But that is precisely the point. Despite having influenced thousands to adopt the truth of monotheism, Abraham had somehow not succeeded in bringing his own former wife Hagar and son Ishmael into the fold. This would seem to be a classic case of one taking care of the world while neglecting one’s own world. This is why, after Sarah’s passing, Abraham followed his long-held desire to reconcile with his estranged family and do everything in his power to help them find their way.14
Abraham may have been destined to be Av Hamon Goyim, “Father of Many Nations,” and the most influential human being to have walked this earth, with more than half of the planet’s population considering him their spiritual father to this day.15 But he was also the father of his own world, including his estranged partner and child. As long as they remained astray and estranged, Abraham had failed to meet his holiest obligation.
In the end, it was not Abraham’s worldly accomplishments, extraordinary courage, or moral integrity that made him special in the eyes of heaven. Nor was it his legendary kindness or even his spirit of activism and sacrifice that made him worthy of fathering the Jewish nation. Instead, it was his continued focus on the ultimate priority of family. As the verse states clearly:
“I have selected him for he shall instruct his children and household after him to keep the ways of G‑d, to do charity and justice.”16
We can all learn from Abraham’s example. No matter what monumental task pulls us in another direction, we must always turn back home and remember that no priority is greater than loving dedication to the family with which G‑d has blessed us. Indeed, no aspiration is greater than the nurturance of the souls entrusted to us as living foundations of our sacred purpose.
Quiz Yourself
Do the Thought Exercise
The Rebbe repeatedly reminded those blessed with family and children that no ambition should be pursued at the expense of those closest to home. Think about your own life—your family, your work, your hobbies, your volunteering and community responsibilities. Are you prioritizing the right things or do you need to make some tweaks?
Take the Challenge
If the thought exercise uncovered some areas you would like to tweak, identify two concrete steps you can take towards making that happen.
Join the Discussion