Completing my Master's work in one year, I was faced with a choice. I could continue towards my PhD, with a view to an academic career, or go into the great unknown of the world beyond New York. Everything inside of me pushed me to the latter choice; I wanted to spread Torah and Jewish spirituality. I asked the Dean of the Chabad baal teshuvah division what I would need for smichah (ordination). He said "Let me test you right now". He tested me not on the usual halachic requirements, but on the Kabbalistic and Hasidic teachings I had been learning from my Chabad teachers. He was satisfied, and wrote me out a certificate on the spot. It was not the standard smichah; but rather the honorary smichah given to those who are dedicated, but not yet ready to be halachic decisors (Poskim). That was the smichah they gave for baalei teshuvah. (In the next two years, I was tested and ordained with standard smichah by three prominent rabbis. When I moved to Israel, I received smichah from the Chief Rabbinate). The campus rabbi who had set me straight about aggadah, recommended me to the international Hillel office, which placed rabbis in campus positions all over the world. I had just turned twenty-two, was full of idealism, and was ready to change the world! They first placed me as the assistant director of a Hillel in Madison, Wisconsin. The director was a Conservative rabbi, who, at 35, was dying of a heart condition. He realized that any Assistant Director was being groomed to replace him. He had booted two previous rabbis (both Orthodox), leaving copies of complaints about them sent to the Hillel International office for me to see. The complaints were actually rants against Orthodoxy. Soon, I saw letters about me. I resigned. I was then placed as the assistant director of the Hillel at Ohio State University in Columbus. I loved the work, and happily put in a seventy hour week. I was the same age as the older students. I would drink beer with them, play darts, and talk to them about Judaism. One of our members messaged me recently that he found a 1972 publication that listed me as the Chabad representative in Columbus. But, alas, this Paradise was not to continue. Members of the local Jewish community complained to the International Office that my dress was too informal (overalls, OSU sweatshirt). The faculty of the Jewish Studies department at OSU were offended that I was teaching "an emotional interpretation of Judaism". After two years, I was fired. The Orthodox rabbis in Columbus, afraid of the power and influence of one of the faculty members, remained silent. The Conservative and Reform rabbis wrote letters in support of me, (as did much of the Christian Clergy) but to no avail. Sadly my "dream job" came only at the beginning of my career. In the meantime, the first Chabad House had opened in Cleveland. The Director said that he admired what I had done on campus, and wanted me to come work for him. I consulted the Lubavitcher Rebbe, who advised me to take the position "for the meanwhile'". Little did I know that I was in for a major trauma, which took me years to work through. No sooner had I walked in the door, than the Director said to me "Jeff, I don't care how many people you got to keep kosher or keep Shabbat in Columbus. If you didn't bring them to the Rebbe, you did nothing". I had never heard anything like this in my then nine years in Chabad. "We're going to Case Western University tonight, to speak with Jewish students. I want to see what you can do. You're on". I welcomed the opportunity. If I do say so myself, I think I did pretty well. "How was I?" I asked the Director after the session. "Terrible. You used a word we never use; "G-d". Kids don't relate to G-d. We are here to "sell" the Rebbe, not G-d.. Next week, you will see how it's done". The following week, we returned to the university. A similar group of about thirty students was in attendance. He chatted them up, looking for a person who was vulnerable, but to whom the others would relate. He found his target. A young woman asked "What is the Jewish view of the afterlife?" He went on the attack."You phony! You don't know how to live this life, so you ask about the next? Your whole life is one big lie!" She broke down crying. Several others joined her. "What shall I do?!?!" "I can't help you. But, there is a plane out tomorrow morning at nine. Be on it, and I will send you to Crown Heights, Brooklyn, where you will be helped". Five students were on that plane the following day. I wasn't sure how I felt about what I had just seen. I would see more of this in the coming weeks; people coming for a Shabbat meal would have their entire sense of self-worth destroyed in an hour, only to be sent to Brooklyn the next day for re-education. It didn't end with students. The Director boasted on a radio program "Give me one half hour with Gifter (Rabbi Mordechai Gifter, the Rosh Yeshiva of the Telz Yeshiva), and he'll either become a Lubavitcher, or else give up Judaism altogether!" When I pointed out that some things being done at the Chabad House were not in accordance with halachah, He told me "If you're really mekushar (connected with the Rebbe), it doesn't matter". This was much bigger than the aggadah issue. Was I part of a sinister cult? I made frantic phone calls to Chabad contacts I had. Much to my surprise, I learned that, unbeknownst to me, two factions had grown up in Chabad, and the gulf between them was growing. One was concerned with bringing people to Judaism, albeit with a Chabad spin. The other stressed the uniqueness of the Rebbe, with connection to him being the primary message. The latter group was excited about his alleged Messiahship. THAT was the mission! This group would come to be known as the "Meshichists" (Messianics).There were, in fact, two separate kiruv (outreach) organizations within Chabad, one representing each of these approaches, It boggled my mind that the Rebbe had never taken sides in this! I wrote several letters to the Rebbe, describing what I had seen. They went unanswered. I contacted Rabbi Zelig Scharfstein, the unofficial chief rabbi of Cincinnati. I had contact with him in the past, conferring with him on halachic issues. He was Chabad, but a man of tremendous openness, combined with erudition. He was to become a major influence in my life. I told him that I was ready to give up Chabad, but was frightened that there was no alternative. He assured me that what I had seen was an anomaly. He agreed to find me a position in Cincinnati, and I could study with him daily. This was a fantastic opportunity. I stuck with Chabad...for the meanwhile.
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