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The Young Headmaster: Jeremy Rosen in First Person

 The Young Headmaster: Jeremy Rosen in First Person
 
My father came from a Lithuanian – that is, non-chasidic – background. He was born in England but was educated at the Mir Yeshiva in Russia, where he received rabbinic ordination. Upon returning to England, he worked as a communal rabbi in Manchester and in Glasgow, finally setting up a Jewish school of his own about fifty miles west of London.

This school was called Carmel College, and it was a Jewish high school for boys, the aim of which was to combine the best of a yeshivah education with the best of a secular education.

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At the time, the top high schools in England were Eton and Harrow, and most upwardly-mobile Jews in England felt that, if their children didn’t go to these schools, they wouldn’t be able to make it in English society. However, my father saw that Jewish children were losing their connection to Judaism in these schools, so he sought to offer an alternative. He wanted to establish a rival school that would not only offer the very best in secular education but also the very best in Jewish studies.

Early on, Carmel College did attract some exceptional pupils who helped it establish a phenomenal academic reputation, but the majority of the students came there because they hadn’t been able to get into the top English schools, and this was the next best thing. They were not religious and not interested in a religious education, an attitude which was not aided by their non-religious parents.

I myself attended Carmel College as a youngster but, at age 16, I was sent to yeshivah in Israel. While there, in 1961, I received a call with the terrible news that my father was gravely ill with leukemia, and I rushed home. Upon return, I found him dramatically changed – he was wearing chasidic garb, and I learned that he had recently been to see the Lubavitcher Rebbe in New York.

When we had a chance to talk about it, my father told me about this visit and the great impression it made on him. He said he told the Rebbe that he wanted to be a chasid, but the Rebbe, praising his work with Carmel College, said, “I don’t want you to be my disciple, I want you to be my partner.”

Why did my father make such a dramatic turn at the end of his life? He said that he came to the conclusion that the Chabad Movement had been most successful in bringing the concept of Ahavat Yisrael – love among Jews – to the forefront of Jewish thought.

After my father passed away, I enrolled at Cambridge University, where I majored in philosophy but, when I finished my studies, I decided I wanted to be ordained as a rabbi, so I returned to Israel, this time attending the Mir, the same yeshiva that had ordained my father in Russia.

It was in Jerusalem that I – like my father – became connected to Chabad, studying the Tanya and other Chabad teachings. Once I returned to England in 1968, I continued to follow in my father’s footsteps, taking a job for three years as a rabbi in Glasgow.

Meanwhile, my father’s school, Carmel College, had gone into decline. The headmaster had suddenly resigned, and it was proposed to me that I apply for the job. This idea – that I should rebuild the school which my father established – appealed to me; however, I also realized that I had no experience in running a school, and that I was only twenty-seven and unmarried.

The governors of the school were divided as to my candidacy. One of my supporters among them – a professor of nuclear physics at the University of London named Cyril Domb – was in close contact with the Rebbe, and he decided to ask the Rebbe’s opinion on the matter.

As a result, the Rebbe wrote to my mother; his letter read in part:

“It came to my attention recently that the present headmaster of Carmel College has resigned on account of ill health and that a successor is now being sought to fill the vacancy. I will suggest, if I may, that you look into the situation with a view to the possibility of your son in Glasgow obtaining the headmastership. There, of course, may be some reservations as to his age and the fact that he’s not yet married, but these cannot be serious objections, especially when there are many considerations which would make him more eligible for the post than any other possible candidate. At any rate, it might be advisable to suggest that he should first be considered as “acting headmaster” or even on a trial basis, which would make his entry into Carmel College acceptable even to those who may have their reservations.”


The Rebbe went on to say that he would have written to me directly but feared that his involvement might make me uncomfortable. He urged my mother to encourage me in this direction, and also to find individuals who would support my candidacy.

As it happened, his suggestion – that I should be appointed “acting headmaster” – convinced the skeptics and, in 1971, shortly after getting married, I got the job.

About a year later, while struggling to address the school’s many problems, I went to New York to see the Rebbe in person. I had never met him before, but I immediately sensed that he was a remarkable man, and I felt a deep connection to him.

He looked straight into my eyes and said, “Now tell me what’s happening at Carmel College.”

So, I started telling him about the problems I had with the teachers – only four of whom, out of a staff of fifty, were Jewish – and the problems I had with the parents and the governors.

In response, the Rebbe recommended which problems I should address first. The school had become co-educational, and he urged that I separate the boys from the girls. His second recommendation was that a mikveh be built on the premises to attract more religious teachers.

I told him that I doubted that I could get the governors’ approval for any of this, but he urged me to “just keep on trying.”

I did try, but I succeeded only partly. The school remained co-educational and, though I got approval and raised the money for a mikveh, it was never built. However, eventually, I was allowed to hire a couple of observant teachers – Lubavitchers, I might note.

In 1983, after thirteen years of working to improve the religious standards of the school, I left. The school lasted another dozen years and then it closed.

Throughout my career in the rabbinate, I have remained an unreserved admirer of Chabad. I firmly believe that what the Rebbe has done for Yiddishkeit outranks any other effort by any single individual in the last two thousand years, with the exception of the founding of the Chassidic Movement by the Baal Shem Tov. Doubtless, Yiddishkeit today would be a lot weaker the world over without the Rebbe’s great achievements.

Rabbi Jeremy Rosen worked in the rabbinate in England and Belgium until his retirement in 2008. He is presently a scholar-in-residence at the JCC in Manhattan. He was interviewed in March of 2015.

From Russia with Love

From Russia with Love

by R Bentzi Sudak

We have just arrived back from a most inspiring week with 500 fellow shluchim from around Europe travelling together to in Moscow, Lubavitch, Liozna, Liadi and Almaty. This was the European Conference of Chabad Lubavitch Shluchim from 40 countries around Europe and the former USSR. This was far more than a conference - it was probably one of the most inspiring weeks of my life, and I thought I'd share some of that inspiration with you.

Our first stop was the village of Lubavitch. 8 hours' drive from Moscow. Tucked away on the western edge of Russia, on its border with Belarus, it is perhaps surprising that such a tiny settlement gives its name to the largest and most well-known Jewish movement in the world. The tradition is that the village was founded by a special Jew who excelled in love and compassion for all. It was a love for all born out of a deep love for G-d, which means that we respect and care for all of His creations. He sought to inculcate these values in others and he therefore named his new settlement Lubavitch, which means City of Love. Indeed, we are told that this village was exemplary for its love and compassion. Everyone got along and cared for each other, Jew and non-Jew. This love and care extended to all of G-d's creations, including animals.

It is no coincidence that it became the home, and the name, of a movement which is synonymous with this idea: an intense love for G-d, which leads to love for all of His creations. It is this idea that lies at the heart of Chabad Lubavitch teachings. It is what lies behind the Rebbe's vision of a global network of kindness, love and compassion, a message spread by his emissaries and taken up by every person.

We visited the birthplaces of Chabad, two towns in Belarusm, Liozhna and Liadi, only greeted by a police and military roadblock, both Russian and Belarusian. It turns out that - due to a law only "discovered" that morning by Authorities - permission to cross the internal border had been denied. An hour passed. Our colleague, the Chief Rabbi of Russia, was on the phone the entire time, speaking to very high level contacts in the President's office, to no avail. The answer was “Nyet”. The rest of us prayed Mincha in large groups, we sang, we danced and we engaged with each other with friendship and love, very deliberately, knowing as we do the power of love and friendship. Another hour passed. It was not looking hopeful. I asked the Chief Rabbi for an update and he answered rather dejectedly. To have such a challenge for such petty reasons made it obvious that this visit was indeed of vital spiritual importance. We doubled down on our efforts. People took upon themselves positive resolutions. People who had minor disagreements with others reached out to resolve them. Suddenly, miraculously, we were told to board the coaches as we would be crossing the border and travelling to Liozna.

After returning to Moscow, we flew together to Almaty, Kazakhstan. The Rebbe's father, Rabbi Levi Yitzchak Schneerson, Chief Rabbi of Yekatrineslav in the 1920s, was exiled to a Kazakh village, as punishment for his steadfast commitment to Judaism. Toward the end of his sentence, he was moved to Almaty, where he passed away thousands of miles from home, not far from the Chinese border. There was no Jewish cemetery, but with no choice that's where he was buried. Wednesday was his Yahrtzeit and we went to pay our respects. Words can’t describe how painful it was to be there imagining the conditions they must have endured.

But none of this was the real take-away from our trip. This must have been painful, but it's what is happening today that is the real inspiration.

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The Jewish life today in the former USSR is booming. Moscow has more synagogues than ever. From schools to state of the art medical centres and cutting edge Museums. The vibrancy is something unmatched - you would not believe it until you see it.

For example: The six people who had a bris while we were there (including a 13 year old child who travelled hours to meet us across the border). Such dedication to Hashem and Judaism even with only a little knowledge, was humbling and inspiring.

To imagine that only 30 years ago the mere mention of the name "Schneerson" would land you in jail in the USSR, to see the terrible conditions in which the Rebbe's father passed away in Almaty, and now to witness the unprecedented growth of the Rebbe's work in Russia today is just miraculous.

Before the closing banquet, we had a group picture. At this point, one of my Russian colleagues came over to a fellow shliach from France, and asked "Do you recognise me?" The French rabbi had a blank look. "We were together in a Chabad Camp in Russia 23 years ago" his colleague said, "I was not religious, you gave me a siddur and I carry it until today. I was so inspired by that summer, I followed in your footsteps and now lead a community of my own.

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" May we all take a little of this inspiration and growth into our own lives and communities. With faith, unity and dedication, there is no limit to what we can achieve with G-d’s help - after all this is what He wants us to accomplish in His world. In the words of the Rebbe “This is what I try to do – to help every man and woman achieve the purpose for which they were created”


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chabad triumphs on Campus

 

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