I have a rule: I make a great effort not to write about things that I do not personally embody. Because if there is one thing that the Chassidic education managed to instill in me, it's this: not to speak about — and certainly not to demand or preach — something that I don’t myself live by.
Sometimes, I will write about a special behavior of someone else, one that is, in truth, also a goal and aspiration for me.
Rabbi Reuven Dunin, of blessed memory, was likely the Chabad chassid who influenced the most Jews in the Holy land over the years to draw closer to their souls and connect to their Source. I don’t know numbers, but by now we’re talking generations — for today there are children whose great-grandfather found his way to our Father in Heaven through “the house on Borochov 3 Street.”
Much has been spoken and written about Reuven and his path — a man in whom truth shone clearly and sharply; “for real,” as he would say in his distinct Israeli drawl. But there is one specific thing about him that especially struck me: Reuven was wholeheartedly and selflessly devoted to doing favors for others. He did it as if it were his full-time job — to the point that one might have thought that’s what he *actually* did for a living.
Of all the stories I’ve read about him, the one about the washing machine simply won’t leave me.
It turns out Reuven had a natural talent for mechanics. In his youth, he even worked repairing washing machines. An elderly Jew named Barry once said:
“For nearly forty years, Reuven would come help me whenever I had trouble with the washing machine. In recent years, it became hard for him to climb the stairs to my apartment because of his breathing issues. I remember once how he came to my home, panting, and said: ‘Give me a moment to catch my breath, and I’ll get to work right away.’”
How many rabbis or spiritual mentors do you know who come with a toolbox, catch their breath, bend down next to a washing machine, get wet, get dirty — and fix it?
In this week’s Torah portion, Acharei–Kedoshim, we read the famous verse: “And you shall love your fellow as yourself.”
On Shavuot 1958, the Rebbe shared that he had heard from his father-in-law, the Rebbe Rayatz, who had heard from Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev — who in turn had heard from the Baal Shem Tov:
“It says in Pirkei Avot (Ethics of the Fathers): ‘Any Torah that is not accompanied by work will not endure.’
The Baal Shem Tov explained: this ‘work’ refers to involvement in Ahavat Yisrael — love for one’s fellow. For Torah to endure, it must be joined with this work: engaging in love for every Jew.”
This teaching deeply influenced the Berditchever, whose entire life became one long act of Ahavat Yisrael.
The Rebbe elaborates:
“Involvement means treating it like a business. A businessman doesn’t just sit at home with his merchandise waiting for someone to discover that he has goods of value and come buy them. He opens a shop in a busy area and puts up a sign so that all passersby know that goods are available. Even this isn’t enough — he advertises, praises the quality of his goods, and tries to persuade people to buy. He actively works to sell his merchandise.”
That’s how Ahavat Yisrael should be — a full-time occupation.
A physical act of kindness often affects a person just as much — and sometimes even more — than a spiritual one.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Zalman Wishedski
Just as I finished preparing this text, my talented son Natan sent another one of his drawings to the family group, as he does every few days. This time, it was a portrait of Reuven Dunin — Natan had no idea that he would be the subject of my words.
