From The Shabbos Goy to The Rebbe’s Goy

The following story was told over by Ron Yitzchok Eisenman, Rabbi of Congregation Ahavas Israel in Passaic, NJ.

I was on flight 1527 from Denver to Newark, and I was engaged in a lively conversation with Kevin from New Canaan, Connecticut.

When I first sat down, I said to him, “Hello, nice to meet you. My name is Ron.”

“Hi, my name is Kevin. By your looks, I’ll bet you on your way home to Brooklyn.”

“I am on my way home. However, I haven’t lived in Brooklyn for forty years. Are you on your way home?”

“Yes, however, I live in New Canaan, Connecticut.  We have the highest per capita income of any town in the state. “

I smiled, feigning being impressed.

“So tell me, Ron, are you one of those Loo-Ba-vitch guys?”

I am often asked that question, however, usually by fellow Jews and not by a Catholic living in New Cannan.

“No, I’m not. What is your connection to Lubavitch?”

 As if on cue, Kevin asked rhetorically, “You’ve heard of RAAM, I assume?”

Not wanting to appear ignorant, uneducated, or perhaps even churlish, I probed the depths of my mind in a fruitless attempt to grasp the meaning of this hitherto unknown word.

Perhaps it is related to the Hebrew word RAM- meaning lofty?

Perchance it was the name of an enigmatic Acharon whose acronym I struggled to decipher?

After admitting ignorance, Kevin explained how RAAM is (a bike) Race Across America and that in 2019, he had participated in the race in pre-pandemic America.

“That is impressive. However, what does that have to do with Lubavitch?”

“Growing up, I never met a Jew. In college, I first met Jews. A few of them observed Shabbat. They would ask me to shut the light in the refrigerator on Shabbat if they forgot. Jokingly and in good fun, I proudly earned the moniker: “The Shabbos Goy.”

I became fascinated with Judaism and read up a lot about it.

I even decided to do a 23andMe genetic test.

Surprisingly, I found out that I have thirty percent Jewish ancestry.”

I was still baffled as to what this had to do with Lubavitch.

Keven explained, “One day during RAAM, somewhere in Utah, a bunch of us cyclists took a break at a park. Shockingly, a few young men with hats, jackets, and black straps appeared. They offered food and drinks while simultaneously asking if anyone was Jewish and would like to put on Teflon. When they reached me, I jokingly said, “I am thirty percent Jewish.” That was it. All of them descended on me, offering me a place to stay for Shabbat and begging me to tie Teflon on my arm. I politely explained that time was of the essence, and I had to keep pedaling. One of them handed me a picture of Rebbe Schneerson.  When I asked him why he said, “Keep it. It will help you!”

I have cherished that picture ever since. It’s hanging on my refrigerator right now.

Indeed, the picture saved my life!””How is that?”

“My eleven-year daughter loves the picture. She has this thing that she says good-night to the Rebbe before going to sleep. One night six months ago, we were all upstairs sleeping. My daughter strangely wakes up at three in the morning and remembers forgetting to say good night to the Rebbe. She goes downstairs, and as she says good-night, she smells smoke. She quickly wakes my wife and me.  There was a fire in our boiler, and the smoke detector malfunctioned and failed to go off. If not for my daughter saying good-night to the Rebbe, who knows what could have happened!”

“You are certainly blessed,” I said.

With a huge smile, Kevin said, “I have discarded my old title of “The Shabbos-Goy” and have upgraded to my new distinction as “The Rebbe’s Goy!”