A World the Size of a Pit

Yankele the shoemaker thinks that he is the wisest person in the town, when, in actuality, he is the most foolish. In fact, the town folk tell him on a daily basis that he is a fool.
One day, Yankele hears the rabbi quote from the Bible that the Almighty protects the foolish. Yankele decides that this is his opportunity. “I’ll jump off the highest building in town. If the Almighty protects me, then I am truly a fool – but I won’t get hurt. And if I get hurt, then I’ll have proven to all that I am a wise man.”
So off he goes! He jumps off the roof of the town’s only three-story building. Of course, he falls badly and breaks many bones.
As the townsfolk rush him to the hospital, they hear him moaning, “I am not just a wise man. I am a genius!”
***
Have you ever sat in the dark so long that you started seeing, almost as if it were light? I’m sure you have. The longer you sat in the darkness, the more you got accustomed to it. Now imagine that all your life you’ve lived in a dark muggy pit, with bread and water lowered daily by rope. Your eyes have never seen the sun; neither have your father and grandfather seen light of day. For years, this has been the reality. For you and your family, darkness is a part of life. The pit is the universe; G-d is the mysterious Something that sends down food every day.
This pattern continues for years, until, one day, a new human being is lowered into the pit with the mission of bringing you back to normal life. He starts driving you crazy about a universe with a sun, moon, billions of animals and humans, mountains, valleys and all else.
Let your imagination wander to your reaction: how would you respond to this alien who speaks of a world filled with light, happiness and love, claiming that yours is but the dread and darkness of the underground? Crazy! How could he say there is a world outside? You are the only existing species and all of life is encompassed in this hole.
Laughable scenario? Certainly. Yet, in many ways, we are just like the man in the pit, clinging to the notion that what we see is life. We insist that the reality we see is all there is, that there is no purpose to the universe and no depth to life. It is easy to take the world at face value.
And then a holy man, a saint with piercing eyes and face full of purity not of this world, enters your happy-go-lucky life and challenges your perception:
“Dear friend,” he cries, “See the light! There is a world full of light, truth and eternal peace. It is in your hands to climb out of this pit and live this life! All you need to do is believe me and climb out of this pit. I even have a rope!”
Throughout the generations, we have had those holy men who called, “Let my people go!”
Such was Moshe, three thousand years ago in Egypt. After two hundred years of slavery, the Jews had resigned themselves to oppression and lives of pain and hardship. Then Moshe came and told them of the Land of Israel that flows with milk and honey.
And such is the Lubavitcher Rebbe. Fifty six years ago, when accepting the mantle of leadership of the Chabad movement, he declared that, after two thousand years in exile and millions of sacrifices, we have reached the end: The time of Moshiach is here. He inspires us with the sacred mission of ushering in the culmination of all the work of thousands of years and millions of men.
He promised that he will lead us out; all we have to do is want to climb out of the pit.
Just stand up and cry the oldest motto of freedom: LET MY PEOPLE GO!