(Note: names and setting altered to protect the innocent)
My schedule is hectic, so I tend to get my news on the bus. I sit towards the back, sometimes with a sefer, sometimes with closed eyes, and sometimes I schmooze with my co-commuters. And sometimes I’m too exhausted for anything, and I just sit there zombie-like and space out. It was such a day. In my spaced out state, I happened to overhear the conversation going on between the two gentlemen sitting in the bench directly in front of me. I just had to share it with Reb Hirshel:
Chaim: “Nice to see you, Refoel. After Sunday’s late night, I wasn’t sure you’d be here. Nu, so what did you think about the asifa?”
Refoel: “What can I tell you? Honestly, at the very least, I was hoping for some chidushim, but there really weren’t any. It could have been done in half the time. I guess I was disappointed, but the overall issue is important, so if a few more people take the matter seriously, at least for that.”
Chaim: “Yeah. I was expecting a more nuanced position than the “let’s draw a line in the sand” approach. Do you think yeshivos or kehillos are going to take a tougher stand b’nogea internet and technology as a result?”
Refoel: “Hard to know. It’s funny, on my way home from Citifield, I couldn’t help but think about the whole Lubavitch question. You know, the whole invited / not invited thing. Are they part of mainstream yiddishkeit or something else entirely. All that. And I wonder, since I highly doubt that Chabad would adopt the anti-technology attitudes that were the theme of the asifa, would there be an element of chareidim that would look to Lubavitch and their mosdos as an alternative.”
Chaim: (Laughing) “I don’t think that’s happening.”
Refoel: “Me neither. But think about it for a second, if Chabad didn’t have the crazies, don’t you think they might represent a common-sense approach? If, let’s say, their mosdos were essentially the same as ours. Let’s say that the focus on Chabad identity was less palpable, and they were just concerned with chumash, mishnayos and gemara – the way it was when we we’re kids in the early 1960’s – don’t you think people might consider it as a legitimate option? You know, just plain authentic Yiddishkeit with additional common sense, tolerance and thoughtfulness?”
Chaim: “Oh yeah! I forgot that you learned in Lubavitch when you were growing up. Listen, Lubavitch isolated themselves. It’s a moot point. They may have once had non-Lubavitcher children in their mosdos and kehilos, but those days are long gone. It’s irrelevant.”
Refoel: “I know. But, if our mosdos and kehilos push people out, where can they go? Many families wouldn’t be comfortable with modern orthodoxy. I assume something new will have to develop to cater to the families that are less extreme. Chabad would have once been attractive to them – in fact, I know Lubavitchers who came from regular frum families like mine, that joined Chabad merely because they were in the mosdos and grew a liking for Lubavitch. But that was a different time. Yeah, I went to Lubavitcher yeshiva, but I never was a Lubavitcher. When we got to mesivta, people like me switched to places like Torah Vodaas and Chaim Berlin.”
Chaim: “Who knows? Maybe Chabad will look at it as an opportunity to add to their ranks, and seek to accommodate and bring in more frum outsiders as a result?”
Refoel: “I don’t think that’s too likely, though. They’re just too far apart from us these days.”
