Rabbi Levi Welton
In January 2021, one of my beloved congregants in Lincoln Park Jewish Center in Yonkers, NY told me it would be his last Shabbat in shul. "Sorry, Rabbi, but I got offered a job and I'll have to work on the Sabbath." He caught me off-guard as we both stood socially distant from one another, our masks covering our faces.
He had been a rabbi's model congregant (and, by that, I mean he didn't fall asleep in my sermons) and I was just beginning to get to know him. What was I supposed to tell him? That I'd love to see him whenever he can make it to shul? That there are many other mitzvahs he can do to bring Mashiach? The Corona virus has impacted so many people financially and they were offering him a lucrative salary. Who was I to mess around with someone else's livelihood?
For those who know me, you know that I hate conflict and often bend over backwards to accommodate and not alienate. But this wasn't some trivial Facebook debate. This was the holy Shabbat we're talking about! I was on the spot. What was I supposed to do?
"What would the Lubavitcher Rebbe say?"
This thought pierced my mind as I stood there, his eyes searching mine. I took a deep breath.
"My brother," I began. "It is impossible that the Creator of Heaven and Earth would give a child of His a challenge he cannot overcome. A great Jewish poet - the Ahad Ha'am - once said, 'More than the Jews have kept Shabbat, Shabbat has kept the Jews.' You must tell them you can't work on the Shabbat. And, if you need a letter stating you require religious accommodation, I will write one for you."
During this past week, he did not reach out to me. I worried if he would ever talk to me again. "Maybe I shouldn't have pushed so hard?"
Today, after I finished praying the Amidah (silent, standing prayer), I turned around to face the congregation and saw him in the second row. He smiled and waved to me. I snuck over to him and asked in shock, "What are you doing here?!"
He leaned close and said, "Rabbi, everyone else in my life was encouraging me to take the job. You were the only one who was adamantly opposed. Yet, in the end I turned it down. I thought to myself, if there are Holocaust survivors like R' Chaim Grossman who still show up to shul[2], then how much more so should I.
So guess what happened next? When my old job heard what happened, they offered me a raise to stay. Plus, they put in my new contract that I will never have to work on Shabbat! I want you to know that if you hadn't given it to me straight, I wouldn't be standing here today."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Tears welled up in my eyes. In my sixteen years as a Rabbi, this is one of the top moments of my entire career. I gushed to him that the Talmud (Avodah Zarah 17a) states there are those who acquire their World to Come in just one glorious moment.
As the service progressed, I couldn't contain myself and I stood up in front of the entire congregation and, with his permission, told them what had occurred. I said that the Talmud (Berachot 6a) teaches that G-d wears tefillin just as His children do. In our tefillin, it is written, "Hear O'Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One" (Deut. 6:4). But, in His tefillin, it states, "And who is like your people Israel, a nation unique on Earth." (II Samuel 7:23).
This man inspired our entire congregation. This man inspired me. It's easy for me to come to shul on Shabbat. After all, I'm paid to do so, but for someone like him, to make that choice..., a modern day miracle experienced by me and my entire congregation!
Rabbi Levy Welton serves as the spiritual leader of Lincoln Park Jewish Centre in Yonkers, NY, and a healer for low-income patients in NYC. Additionally, he serves as a chaplain in the United States Air Force.
Reprinted from shabbosstories.com
