This week, Chabad was in the news. While the incident remains under investigation, the main synagogue and movement headquarters at 770 Eastern Parkway in New York was the site of a car-ramming attack. Thousands of people were gathered there that night. Thank G-d, no one was injured, and the perpetrator was arrested at the scene.
The reason so many were assembled that night, is because that day marked seventy-six years since the Rebbe assumed leadership of the Chabad-Lubavitch movement, after succeeding his father-in-law, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn.
Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak had bravely stood against Stalin, preserving Judaism in the USSR by organizing a clandestine network of Jewish day schools, mikvahs, and kosher food supplies. His defiance led to his arrest and imprisonment by the NKVD, where he initially faced a death sentence. Miraculously, and through American diplomatic efforts, he was exiled and eventually expelled from Russia.
Now in America, Jews faced a new reality with different challenges. Reeling from the devastation of the Holocaust, many were simply trying to piece their lives back together. Others, having witnessed the extermination of European Jewry, felt completely apathetic toward Judaism. After all, where was G-d?
It was against this backdrop that the Rebbe assumed leadership. The Jewish community needed healing, revival, vitality, pride, and above all, love.
In his first address, he spoke of three loves: the love of G-d, the love of Torah, and the love of His people, Israel. “They are all one,” he said, “and since they are one, it is impossible to make distinctions between them.”
“When there is love of G-d but not love of Torah and love of Israel, this means that the love of G-d is also lacking. On the other hand, when there is love for a fellow Jew, this will eventually bring a love of Torah and a love of G-d…”
The Rebbe advocated for a holistic approach, explaining that if you see a person who seems to have a love of G-d but lacks a love of Torah and his fellow, you must teach him that his love of G-d is incomplete. And if you see someone who has only a love for his fellow, you must bring him to a love of Torah and a love of G-d, so that his kindness "extends beyond just providing bread for the hungry and water for the thirsty," to also "bringing them closer to Torah and to G-d."
He made clear his belief that the mission of our time was to share Judaism with our fellow Jews, with love, meaning, and authenticity, and to share the values of ethics and morality with all humankind. The ultimate goal was that all humanity would recognize G-d and feel that this world is a suitable dwelling place for Him, as well as for them, even if it required self-sacrifice. “This means even going to places where nothing is known of G-dliness, nothing is known of Judaism, nothing is known even of the alef-bet, and while there, setting oneself completely aside and devoting oneself to the mission at hand.”
The Rebbe’s vision was simple as much as it was revolutionary. It was time to bring Yiddishkeit into the open, lived with education, confidence, and pride. Judaism was not something to hide, but the source of meaning and purpose for every Jew.
On that cold winter evening, in a small Brooklyn synagogue filled with Holocaust survivors, European refugees, and escapees of Stalin’s gulags, few among them even speaking English, the Rebbe set out a bold vision. That modest building, now known as 770, would become one of the most well-known synagogues in America and the most replicated Jewish building in the world, as the Rebbe’s mission of love went on to transform Judaism.

This week we read one of the most powerful passages in the Torah. Moses, who was raised in Pharaoh’s palace, went out one day and saw an Egyptian striking a Hebrew slave. Unable to tolerate the injustice, Moses intervened.
As the verse says: “Moses turned this way and that way and saw that there was no one, so he struck down the Egyptian.”
Over the generations, the sages have analyzed every word of this verse. Where was Moses until now? Did he not know about the suffering of the Israelites? How exactly did he kill the Egyptian? And what does it mean that he “turned this way and that way and saw that there was no one”?
Some explain that Moses looked to see whether anyone was watching, and seeing no one, he knew he could act without being caught. Others interpret it more mystically, suggesting that Moses perceived there was no redemptive quality in this individual. Still others go even deeper, proposing that Moses foresaw no future spiritual potential or redeeming merit even among his possible descendants. Each interpretation offers meaningful insight.
But I came across an interpretation that speaks powerfully to Moses’ character. Moses saw a Jew suffering. He looked around and realized no one was coming to help. Everyone was absorbed in their own lives, with no time, energy, or courage to intervene. So Moses acted.
That is Moses. He does not remain comfortably in the palace. Nothing is too difficult or too insignificant, especially when something or someone is being overlooked or ignored by others.
Reading this deepened my understanding of Moses and strengthened my appreciation for the Rebbe’s impact on the Jewish people and on humanity. It also reminded me that this lesson calls on each of us to notice what is being neglected and to take responsibility in our own lives.
Earlier this week, I was reminded of this in a very real way. One of the great heroes of the Bondi Beach attack was Ahmed El-Ahmad, a Muslim man who happened to be nearby when the terrorists began their rampage. Instead of fleeing, he courageously confronted and disarmed one of the attackers, sustaining multiple gunshot wounds himself.
This week he came to America where he is being honored, and met with elected leaders in Congress to speak about courage, the rise in Jew hatred, and why all good people must stand up against it. But the first place he chose to visit was the Rebbe' Ohel in Queens, where he prayed for healing and peace and offered thanks for his survival.
What drew him there? Why would a Muslim man born in Syria and living in Australia feel comfort and inspiration at the Rebbe’s gravesite?
Perhaps it is the very quality the Rebbe identified in Moses that so many recognize in the Rebbe himself: seeing a problem, noticing someone in need, realizing that maybe no one else is stepping forward, and choosing to act. This is true leadership, and it continues to inspire and draw people of every background and faith to his vision, his teachings, and even to his resting place.