Version History

We all know the famous statement from the Gemara (Ta’anis 5b) which has become part of our lexicon (or “shprach”) in this post–Gimmel Tammuz reality:

״מַה זַרְעוֹ בַּחַיִּים, אַף הוּא בַּחַיִּים.״
Just as his children are alive, so too is he alive.

Another way to interpret (process) this may be:

What is the strongest proof that the Chossid is alive?
That (when) his Rebbe lives within him.

[In truth, this concept is not limited to our current situation, in which we lack the Rebbe’s physical presence. Even when the Rebbe was physically with us, this question was as relevant and applied just as powerfully. The chossid could ask himself: “The Rebbe is alive and well. He works for and behalf of Klal Yisrael day and night—but is my life aligned with that reality and energy, or independent of it?”]

But life (חיים) is defined by growth. As the  Rebbe taught us countless times: “Every living thing must grow.”

If our relationship with the Rebbe has remained exactly as it was in our childhood, teenage years (“bochur’she yaren”), or even in our adult lives, unmatured, unevolved, undeepened—while we ourselves have passed through new stages of life, responsibilities, challenges, and maturity, then something is profoundly wrong. Every living organism must grow for stagnation is not neutral, but a sign of decay and lifelessness.

The chossid–Rebbe relationship is not a memory, a slogan, or an inherited identity. It is a living organism. It must be nurtured, developed, and allowed to mature at every stage of life. If it is not, then what remains is not chassidus—but a shell.

And a shell is not alive.

To be a Chossid is to keep choosing the Rebbe—day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year. It is to ask oneself honestly: “The Rebbe is talking, but is he speaking to me?”

And by “talking,” we do not mean only while applying his teachings while watching videos of his Farbrengens or learning his Torah, but also when we are confronted by life’s brick walls and moments of doubt, the “I just can’t anymore”, “I’m done with this” moments. The Chossid asks himself: ״הַעוֺד אָבִי חַי?״—Is the Rebbe’s timeless, decisive voice ringing in my consciousness and keeping me anchored?

When confronted by life’s challenges or by any other sense of inadequacy or self-doubt that might hinder his (unique) service to Hashem, the chossid does not merely step back to see the bigger picture (though that, of course, is essential), but it goes much deeper than that. 

From the very outset, he draws his חיות—his energy and his life-force, from a source higher than the situation as it presents itself. His energy, direction, and sense of purpose flow from a different (Higher) source—his Rebbe. He has no other desire than to remain constantly in sync with his Rebbe and with all that this sacred connection represents.

When that connection is real and alive, it animates the chossid’s entire חיים: how he thinks, chooses, struggles, and grows, at each and every moment of life.