The Colossus and Me

From the age of nine I had visions of grandeur. Like so many boys at that age, I envisioned myself as President of the United States or some other world figure. I was going to be a leader and not just a follower. I saw myself barking orders and wielding vast power. But by the time of my Bar Mitzvah four years later, when I officially considered myself a Lubavitch disciple, I had completely reoriented not just my life, but my aspirations. I chose to become a Hasid, a follower of someone else. What could have encouraged me to abandon my aspirations of leadership and choose to forever remain an adherent and a devotee?

My inspiration was certainly not humility, a virtue that at the time was in too short a supply with me. But few join Lubavitch because of humility. It wasn't even a love for truth that moved me, although that did figure as well. Rather it was my sense of ambition that made me join Lubavitch. There can be no question in my mind that many others joined Lubavitch for the same reason. If you wanted to translate the eternal human dream of a perfect world into reality, only one man spoke of it seriously: Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, the Lubavitcher Rebbe.

The Rebbe was a colossus, a giant among men. He appealed both to the pious as well as the powerful, people whose desire for success was as great as that of any Harvard Business School graduate. Instead of following other opportunities, these motivated men and women chose to follow the Rebbe. They understood that the Rebbe provided a framework within which to maximize their fullest potential, while simultaneously allowing others to benefit from it.

When I first saw the Rebbe, I was ten years old. What I remember most was the holes in his shoes. That the world's most famous rabbi and leader of hundreds of thousands could have holes in his shoes both surprised and delighted me. I realized that his position didn't go to his head--he could remain humble amidst awesome power and influence. He was utterly selfless and had the spiritual capacity to put himself in other people's predicaments and experience their pains and their joys.

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