When Rabbi Azriel Chaikin and his wife began their shlichut in Morocco, they never dreamed that shortly afterward they would find themselves in a completely different place. It was in 1960, and Rabbi Chaikin was appointed to head the Chabad Tomchei Temimim yeshiva in Casablanca. However, soon circumstances arose that forced them to leave Morocco quickly.
The Chaikins sent a letter to the Lubavitcher Rebbe, asking him to direct them to their next place of mission. The response was not long in coming: Copenhagen. Shortly thereafter, the couple arrived in Copenhagen, the capital of Denmark, and began their new mission.
During one of his visits to the Rebbe, at the conclusion of a yechidut [personal audience], the Rebbe instructed him: “You must expand the boundaries of your work beyond Copenhagen and even beyond the State of Denmark. Make an effort to reach Jews throughout the entire peninsula [the Scandinavian Peninsula, comprising Norway and Finland].”
Traveling
Rabbi Chaikin recounts: “Immediately upon returning home, I began traveling in the neighboring countries. I discovered that in Norway there were towns and villages with only a few Jews, sometimes even just two families in a town or a single family in a village. Generally, they were unaware of their own Jewish identity.
“Divine Providence brought a Jew named Shmuel David Popovich to me, who lived in the town of Halden. He wholeheartedly assisted me in locating and gathering more Jews. He himself was of Romanian descent and recalled that as a child his father had taken him to meet a Chassidic Rebbe who had visited their town.
“Shmuel David succeeded in locating about twenty Jews from the surrounding villages and towns. Once a week, they would gather at his home, and I would come and deliver a lesson, teaching them basic Jewish concepts. Gradually, they began to become more observant of Torah and mitzvot.”
At a certain point, Rabbi Chaikin decided that a class was not enough. He felt it was his duty to visit the villages themselves and reach out to remote Jews whom even Shmuel David had been unable to locate. And so he did. He began traveling through the villages, and wherever he found a Jewish family, he would sit and speak with them about Judaism.
The Couple
During one of these journeys, a remarkable story occurred. “One evening, I arrived at a small village near the town of Halden. I knew that there was only one Jewish family there, and I wanted to meet them. The hour was already rather late, and I hesitated about knocking on the door at such a time. But I decided I had no choice, because who knows when I might have the opportunity to meet these Jews.
“To my delight, I was warmly received by the couple. I sat with the husband and wife at the table and delivered my message. I noticed by the expression on the husband’s face that something was troubling him. He spoke little and mostly listened.
The wife also responded little. At one point, the wife got up and went to another room. Suddenly, I saw that the husband’s face was very red with emotion. He leaned toward me and said, ‘You do not know what you accomplished by your visit! At this moment, you have postponed thoughts of conversion for another twenty years...!’
A Timely Visit
“I was astonished and expected an explanation. The man did not wait for my questions and began to tell the story. He and his wife had arrived in this village immediately after World War II. They were the only Jews in the village, and all the others were Christian Gentiles. In practice, he said, there was no real difference in daily life between them and their neighbors, except for that they did not attend church.
“This matter had always been a source of discomfort in their conversations with neighbors and acquaintances. The neighbors, who wanted the couple to assimilate and be like them, often tried to persuade them to abandon such insistence and attend church with them. ‘After all, your Judaism has no real significance,’ they would say.
Just in Time
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“Recently, the issue had become more pressing due to the activity of the regional pastor. The pastor would visit towns and villages in his area. He went from house to house and conversed with the residents. He did not skip the home of the Jewish couple either. In his meetings with them, he refrained from speaking about religion, but spoke pleasantly and friendly.
“Recently,” the Jew recounted, “the pastor visited us again, and although he said nothing about religion, the conversation was very friendly, and a great closeness developed between us. Since then, my wife began to contemplate aloud the possibility of converting and being like the other villagers.
Returning Home
“Among other things, the wife said, ‘Look, we have lived here for so many years, and not once has a Jew, certainly not a Rabbi, come to visit us and inquire about our wellbeing. What meaning remains to being Jews if Jews are not interested in us? In contrast, the pastor is so friendly, remembers to visit us, and asks about our wellbeing.’
“The pressure from his wife grew, and he began to feel he had no real reason to avoid taking the step that would improve their integration into village life. Yet something inside him resisted this action. The matter disturbed him greatly and weighed heavily on him.
“The man finished his story and said, ‘Suddenly, you came to us like an angel from heaven! Do you understand why I am so agitated?’
“I immediately understood the weight of the responsibility resting on me,” Rabbi Chaikin concluded. “I maintained constant contact with the couple and encouraged them to begin observing mitzvot.
“After some time, they decided to move to an area where there was also a Jewish community, and thus this family returned to the embrace of their people.”
