Some people ask if I believe the Rebbe (the Lubavitcher Rebbe) is the Messiah, they are obviously just trying to get a response, to get a rise out of me. Anyone with half a brain would know I don’t have a quick reply to this question, and if I do reply it is usually slightly flippant and confusing and I pretty much say that they’ve got to read my phone book of a PhD to get my honest response.
But there is a much deeper question that I’ve been pondering, not very deeply as I’m a pretty shallow bloke, and not very intelligently as it seems I’m no genius.
Did the Rebbe really exist?
I don’t know why I’ve asked myself this question, it came about through ‘chatting’ to people here and other places in cyber space.
You see the Rebbe was the stuff of myth even in his life time, it means that everything I thought I knew of him was tinted with myth, with urban legends, with superstition, with metaphysics, with righteous hope.
In my mind it doesn’t matter if the Rebbe ever really existed or not, not because I don’t appreciate his contribution to the world, but rather because I don’t believe anyone really saw him. Yes I saw him, the man the myth, I received a blessing and some dollars, some cake, some wine and a smile and a frown. But did I really ever see him? Did I ever see beyond the ideas interpreting events, beyond my perception of him? Probably not.
Does it matter that I never saw the Rebbe? No, because he didn’t exist, he was a myth, an idealise man, a God, the Divine, the Messiah, the Buddha, Christ!
It matters not what he was but who he is… who he is to me, what he means to me, how he exists within me.
The Rebbe is that righteous spark within my soul, not because of the Man the Rebbe, but because what I saw in him, what I wanted to see in him is that part of me that is The Rebbe.
And he is alive! He is the Messiah!
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