“Shemen zich nisht!”
These are the words I heard from my Abba throughout my life. They are Yiddish for “Don’t be ashamed.” He told me this to remind me that being a Jew, and a Chassid, was a badge of honor and one should never be ashamed to admit in public or private that one was a member Klal Yisrael. I know I’ve touched on this topic before, but after spending so much time each summer with the beautiful Jews who come through our Chabad Center, I feel like this topic deserves more discussion since the issue is real.
“Shemen zich nisht!”
I meet ehrliche, holy, good, pious, kindhearted, generous Yidden. I adore them and their life stories.
I enjoy spending time with them immensely, but I have observed that far too many of them, after leaving their cocoon of Brooklyn, Lawrence, Lakewood, or Baltimore, shift their dress code (their levush) just enough so that they are not identifiably Jewish. These are Jews who are makpid, scrupulous with every mitzvah, strive to make a Kiddush Hashem, and are ba’aleic chesed and G-d fearing Torah learners of the highest order, but when they are out in Yellowstone, Yosemite, Orlando, or Cancún, this part of their holy identity takes a back seat. I don’t think it’s fear, I don’t think it’s because they are seeking to misbehave; I think it’s because they are uncomfortable out in the world and are not sure how their Jewishness will be perceived, so they tread with caution.
Yet, now more than ever, it’s important to demonstrate to the world that we have nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of. Shemen Zich Nisht. We are a holy nation, and when we live up to the Torah standards, we are the greatest gift to the world and there is nothing to be worried about. We should show the world how a Jew looks with a yarmulke, tzitzis hanging out, beard, a tichel, a sheitel, tzniyus for men and women, kosher, Minchah at a gas station, etc. It’s not just about standing up for being Jewish in America in the face of hatred, it’s about living up to the mission of a Yid, which is about being an Ohr l’Goyim, a light unto the nations. And you can’t be a light if the world doesn’t know you’re part of that holy nation.
This week’s double parashah of Nitzavim and Vayeilech, includes the verse, “Ki Karov,” one of the twelve verses the Rebbe, zt’l, wanted every Jewish child to memorize from a young age. Moshe tells the Jewish people, “Rather, this thing is very close to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart, so that you can fulfill it.” Before his passing, Moses tells the Israelites that Judaism isn’t too distant, too aloof, or too deep. It’s accessible to each of us on our journey to connect with Hashem. This verse is the foundational verse of Sefer HaTanya, the magnum opus of the Alter Rebbe, and the sefer that is the foundation of all foundations of Chabad Chassidus. Today, Tanya is studied everywhere; it’s the soul map for the generations that precede the coming of Mashiach.
In this incredible sefer, the Baal HaTanya emphasizes that not everyone is set out to be a tzaddik, but that everyone can and should strive to be a benoni. What is a benoni? It’s a Jew in the struggle, whose animalistic and G-dly souls are battling for control over his life, his body, and his choices, and each one of us has the ability to hold off temptations, to stop bad thoughts and keep negativity away. We can’t stop the evil inclination from trying, because that’s the life of a benoni, but we can stop the evil inclination from making headway and succeeding. The more we fight against our inner demons, our yetzer ha’ra, the more refined we will become. And so, when a non-Jew sees us, they will see the refinement of our character traits, the eidelkeit of our being, the beauty of our middos, and the purity in our faces.
Imagine that they see a pure face but sadly don’t realize it’s the face of a Yid because the Jew is hiding his payos under a baseball cap or the young lady is not dressing like a modest princess of Klal Yisrael. It would be a huge loss for Hashem and a missed opportunity to make a Kiddush Hashem.
Last week, I had multiple nosebleeds on a single day. I’ve always had nose bleeds since childhood. They come and go, lasting from 15-20 minutes, and we move on. Yet, last Wednesday, it started at 6:00 a.m., just after I finished my morning learning seder with my Cedarhurst chavrusas, Chaim and Avi, and lasted a full hour. It then started again at 9:00 a.m. and lasted another hour and again at 2:30 p.m. So I moved Wednesday’s class to Thursday and headed to the ER. While in the hospital, I saw a Jewish doctor named Melissa walking toward us. I said, “Hey, Melissa, how are you?” Being a professional and not a yenta, she didn’t ask me why I was there, but said, “Good to see you, Chaim. You just came up in conversation last week while talking to Dani.” I replied, “I hope it was for good things…” She laughed and said, “Yes, we were talking about Rosh Hashanah.”
It was funny to hear since Melissa has never davened with us at our shul and has only attended one Chanukah Celebration in 2022. In fact, about a decade ago, she asked me to stop bringing “Jewish stuff” to her house and that she’s a happy member of her Reform temple. Yet, when you spend seventeen years in a town, being a public figure of authentic Yiddishkeit, it changes minds and hearts. We are unwavering in our commitment, uncompromising in our traditions, unfazed by negative attacks on Orthodoxy. We just teach, inspire, and show an entire town what a Jew who is comfortable looks like, and it creates a discussion, it opens doors. Sure, I tread carefully and try not to show up too often, especially when asked not to, but if you stick to your day job, which is to be an ambassador of Torah and Chassidus, it impacts those in your vicinity.
Shemen Zich Nisht.
As we are approaching Shabbos Selichos, experiencing introspection for 5784 and looking forward to good and sweet 5785, I think we should take some time to see what we can do personally to be more of a public Jew, a more comfortable Jew, which is a win-win. It pushes us to live and behave more holier and allows the world to see who we really are. We aren’t just gleeful meme makers of Hezbollah beepers; we are deep, meaningful, productive, G-dly souls who wake up each morning and want to shine the light of kedushah to the world.
On Sunday evening, we hosted a heartwarming community celebration to mark Chavie’s 40th birthday. Chavi is a powerhouse of authentic Jewish femininity, who is not only a wonderful daughter, sister, wife, and mother, she also spends countless hours each day sharing the Torah’s wisdom with people around the world. In addition to her Tanya classes, she has a new podcast called Totally Unexpected, articles on Substack, posts on Instagram (@ChavieBruk), and speaking engagements around the country, and she does it all with compassion and empathy, shining a light on the struggles and healing that we encounter in the journey of life.
In honor of her special day, close to a hundred community members, Jews and non-Jews, came together to celebrate Chavie’s birthday. They heard shofar, listened to divrei Torah, enjoyed a five-star kosher BBQ, drank a l’chaim and enjoyed the dessert table, and took home the new book “Letters of Life” with the Rebbe’s writings on emotional health, celebrating a frum woman who is admired deeply in a very secular community. It was amazing to watch the attendees wishing Chavie all their berachos and it was a clear reminder that when we are open about our Judaism, wearing a skirt at the gym, skiing with a skirt, covering our hair, being classy but modest, speaking purely without coarse language. We represent the light of Hashem and the world loves it.
In the Summer of 1970, the Rebbe, zt’l, was speaking at a farbrengen about how, when Mashiach comes, each of us will be there to greet Mashiach with all the members of “our community.” Who represents “our community”? Sometimes it’s clear: it is the people who found their connection to Hashem, their commitment to Torah and mitzvos, through us. Yet sometimes it isn’t clear. We may have once walked down a street dressed in our Jewish garb, speaking English, in a dress code that seems straight out of the shtetl. We aren’t asking for money, but rather are asking Jews to perform a holy mitzvah. And even though we may not have spoken to this particular Jew, somehow, we inspired him. Just by seeing us dressed in our traditional levush, it reminded him of his Jewish grandparents and great-grandparents and maybe we made an impact on his life. Maybe their life changed forever without us ever saying a word to them. It was true in 1970 and it’s true in 2024. When people see a Yid who has the look of a Yid, we can never know how far that impact will go.
Let’s make 5785 the year when being a Jew is comfortable, safe, and proud, and may we never have anything to hide. Shemen Zich Nisht! n
Rabbi Chaim Bruk is co-CEO of Chabad Lubavitch of Montana and spiritual leader of The Shul of Bozeman. For comments or to partner in our holy work, e-mail rabbi@jewishmontana.com or visit JewishMontana.com/Donate.
