It doesn’t matter if they’ve never heard of rebbes or Chassidus. In any corner of the world where there are Jews, the Kalover Rebbe will find them. For 35 years, the Rebbe’s chassidim in Williamsburg have been waiting for him to stay put, but the Rebbe has a bigger mission: If there is a Jew anywhere who needs chizuk, he’ll pack his bags and fly off to give it.
It would be hard to imagine a greater study in contrasts than the Sephardic shul onHaTemarim Street in Eilat where the Kalover Rebbe ofWilliamsburg is speaking with Guy and Zohar two secular suntanned teenagers who have come for a brachah.
The Rebbe Rav Moshe Taub shlita (not to be confused with his second cousin Rav Menachem Mendel Taub the Kaliver Rebbe of Jerusalem) keeps his well-worn suitcase next to him — partially unpacked and spilling over with his tallis tefillin and seforim — the piece of luggage accompanying the Rebbe throughout the wanderings of his self-imposed exile of 35 years and 61 countries so far.
On one side of the table is a yellowing sefer. On the other side is a brightly colored cellular device bursting with the newest must-have apps (turned off for these minutes in deference to the Rebbe). On one side sits an elderly dignified rebbe who speaks a heavy Hebrew mixed with Yiddish. On the other side sit two boys with piercings in various places conversing in the language of the street.
What’s this holy rebbe doing in Eilat — that hedonistic bastion of Israeli secularism on the shores of the Red Sea— in the middle of Elul? What could he possibly be looking for that he wouldn’t find ensconced in his shtiebel inWilliamsburg? The answer in a word: Jews. If there are Jewish people here then the Rebbe will spread his light.
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