The Young Rabbis Choosing to Live on Ukraine’s Frontlines
by Motti Wilhelm – chabad.org
Rabbi Reuven Kaminezki is no stranger to Ukraine. Born and raised in Dnipro, Reuven has returned home many times since the war broke out in 2022 to support the Jewish community’s critical humanitarian and spiritual missions.
So when, together with his wife Esther Hadassah, a native of Lyon, France, he made the bold decision to settle permanently in his hometown as the newest Chabad-Lubavitch emissaries in the city, he was fully aware of the risks and uncertainties of life in a war-torn nation.
“It wasn’t a question of whether or not we would move, it was a matter of when,” the young rabbi says. Today, he and his wife are an important part of the team at Chabad of Dnipro, which his parents Rabbi Shmuel and Chani Kaminezki established in 1990 at the behest of the Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory.
The Kaminezkis’ story is extraordinary, but not without parallel. Across Ukraine, numerous native-born Chabad rabbis have returned home with their young families to strengthen the efforts of their parents and fellow emissaries in the face of the ongoing war.
In battle-scarred Kharkiv, Rabbi Sholom Ber Moskovitz, likewise born in the city, joined the ranks of shluchim there six months ago alongside his wife, Chava, and their newborn son, Menachem Mendel. Even before their marriage, the couple had resolved to serve in Ukraine.
“I always knew I wanted to be a shliach, but I wasn’t sure where,” Rabbi Moskovitz tells Chabad.org. “When the war began, I saw the immense need and the thousands who are literally relying on Chabad for survival. So when my wife and I got married in 2023, we made the firm decision to return.”
Halfway across the country, in Odessa, a city under near-constant shelling, Rabbi Itamar Wolff and his wife, Mussie, returned to serve alongside his father, Chief Rabbi Rabbi Avrohom Wolff, who has remained in the city throughout the war to direct Chabad of Odessa.
‘No Matter What the World Throws Our Way’
When the war began, all three were still yeshivah students. Moskovitz and Wolff were studying at the Central Chabad Yeshivah in Brooklyn, N.Y., while Kaminezki was completing post-rabbinic studies in Puerto Rico. Although the possibility of war had often been discussed, all three acknowledged that they were stunned when it actually broke out.
Initially, each offered support for their hometown communities from afar, coordinating evacuations and organizing shipments of essential supplies to Ukraine. As the war dragged on, each began making the challenging journey back for Jewish holidays and other occasions to assist their parents and communities directly.
In the nearly three years since, all three have married and, together with their wives, made the independent decision to return to their hometowns and join their parents as emissaries.
What motivates a young couple to begin their life in a war-torn country, where sirens, missile strikes and danger are part of daily reality? For Rabbi Itamar Wolff, the answer is straightforward. “There are Jews here. Just as we’re there for them in good times, we need to be there for them in hard times,” he states.
From Kharkiv, Rabbi Moskovitz offers his perspective: “My parents were sent here by the Rebbe right before the fall of the USSR, when the country was in an upheaval. They faced a different, but similar set of challenges, including social unrest, the possibility of civil war, subpar medical services, among others.”
Yet they were determined to fulfill the Rebbe’s vision of reaching every Jew and assisting them spiritually and materially. “We continue on the same path, empowered by the Rebbe’s vision and teachings, no matter what the world throws our way,” Moskovitz says.
In their respective cities, the three new rabbis quickly immersed themselves in the core work of Chabad emissaries worldwide—helping their fellow Jews connect with their heritage through mitzvot, synagogue visits, Torah classes, holiday programs and countless other initiatives.
In Ukraine, however, the role of shluchim has an added dimension. Alongside spiritual guidance, rabbis are increasingly relied on to provide vital humanitarian aid—distributing food, medicine and generators, and assisting community members with basic needs. While a part of Chabad work in the former Soviet Union since the 1990s, the war has made these efforts more urgent than ever.
‘You Know You’ve Made a Real Difference’
Assisting them in their humanitarian mission is the Jewish Relief Network Ukraine (JRNU). Launched in the immediate aftermath of the war, JRNU is the largest boots-on-the-ground Jewish humanitarian aid organization in Ukraine. They assist more than 50,000 men, women and children across Ukraine with grocery store vouchers, food parcels, medicine, medical and mental-health care, children’s programs, household and personal items.
Rabbi Simcha Levenharts of Chabad of Kyiv is the coordinator of JRNU operations in Ukraine while also working at Kyiv’s Simcha Jewish Day School. He and his wife, Malka, who were married in 2020, are both second-generation emissaries in Ukraine. His parents, Rabbi Moti and Devorah Levenharts, lead Kyiv’s ‘Simcha’ community, while Malka’s parents, Rabbi Yosef and Nechama Dina Segal, are directors of the Jewish Community of Poltava, 200 miles west of Kyiv.
He had already been serving as a rabbi in Ukraine before the war began. Like his Chabad colleagues throughout the country, Levenharts chose to stay put even as the war raged on.
“Before the war, we had several plans in the works, including the possibility of opening a Chabad center in another area of Kyiv or even in a different city,” he tells Chabad.org. “The war changed those plans. Today, our main focus is on humanitarian efforts.”
Levenharts notes that among the unique challenges are family separations, with women and children fleeing to safety while their military-aged husbands and fathers must stay behind.
Another major challenge are the missile strikes targeting energy infrastructure. Ukrainians face frequent power outages—sometimes lasting half a day or longer—leaving many without electricity or heat. Over the past year, JRNU has provided generators to help those without power in freezing temperatures.
Kaminezki, Moskovitz and Wolff all credit JRNU for enabling them to provide humanitarian assistance in their communities on the scale they do. They agree that the impact of their work is what drives them to continue, despite the many challenges they face.
“As we see the impact of our work on a daily basis, how it literally saves lives, it keeps us going,” Kaminezki says.
In 2012 Chabad of Dnipro opened the 20-story tall Menorah Center, the largest Jewish center in the world. Though it had offered medical and humanitarian aid from the beginning, the war has transformed it into a literal beacon of hope for thousands in the city and passing through. “Take, for example, an elderly man, 80 years old, living on a pension of just 3,000 hryvnia [about $80 a month],” says Kaminezki. “When we give him a stipend for his basic needs or help him get a life-saving operation at our medical center in the Menorah Center, you know you’ve made a real difference. You’ve actually saved someone’s life. That’s something you won’t find in many other places.”
‘Now They Show Up Every Day’
One aspect all four of the young rabbis find remarkable—and each mentioned independently to Chabad.org—is the number of “unaffiliated” Jews who have come closer to Judaism since the war began.
“We have full Torah classes that began after the war started, where every single participant had never set foot in a synagogue before,” Wolff says. “Some came initially for humanitarian aid and only later developed an interest in Judaism. Others didn’t need our material support but felt a deep need to connect to G‑d during these difficult times. The common thread is that they had never come before and now they are active members of our community.”
It’s like that in Dnipro as well, where despite a significant portion of their established community leaving early on, they’ve seen an increase in overall numbers.
“There are people I knew, but who didn’t come on a regular basis, and now they show up every day to don tefillin,” Kaminezki says. “Others attend events in numbers we’ve never seen before. For example, this past Rosh Hashanah, we had several hundred people attend the holiday meal—far more than any time before the war.”
Among these newcomers, the rabbis are meeting individuals who lived through the Soviet Union and its collapse but only now, some 30 years later, feel able to connect to their Jewish heritage.
“We’ve had several septuagenarians choose to undergo a bris over the past two years,” Moskovitz says. “Others who never stepped foot in a synagogue, even on the High Holidays, now proudly wear a yarmulke and tzitzit, put on tefillin daily and attend prayers regularly.”
Remarkably, despite the immense challenges they endure, Ukrainian Jews maintain a profound connection to their Jewish brothers and sisters worldwide, empathizing with their struggles. This bond was powerfully demonstrated when, just hours after Emirati authorities recovered the body of Rabbi Zvi Kogan—the Chabad emissary to the United Arab Emirates murdered by terrorists—two Jews in Odessa undergoing a bris chose the name Zvi in his memory.
“These two men had wanted to have a bris for some time, and we were finally able to bring a mohel to Odessa,” explains Wolff. “Both men had already chosen names, but after hearing the tragic news from the UAE, they decided to add the name Zvi in memory of Rabbi Kogan. Now, one is Moshe Zvi, and the other is Baruch Zvi.”
Wolff underscores that both men have spent the last three years living in a literal war zone, where they have witnessed countless tragedies. Yet when they heard about the Chabad rabbi who was murdered, it deeply affected them.
“They feel the interconnectedness of the Jewish people—knowing that when another Jew across the world suffers, it impacts them too, even as they grapple with their own hardships,” he says. “And they feel a particular bond with the Rebbe’s emissaries wherever they might be.”
When asked about the message Ukrainian Jews wish to share with their brethren around the world, Levenharts reflects on the shifting dynamics since the war began. “When the war started, the world rallied to help, with significant funds sent to Ukraine,” he says. “But naturally, as time passed and other crises arose, Ukraine has been somewhat forgotten.”
This loss of attention has made their efforts increasingly difficult. “The situation hasn’t improved since the war began; it’s only gotten harder with new threats emerging,” Levenharts explains. “Just recently, even the U.S. closed its embassy due to security threats. There’s constant tension, and no one knows where this is heading.”
Still, he offers a hopeful perspective. “Despite everything, we believe, with G‑d’s help, this war will end. We hope and pray that there will be no more casualties and that all can live in peace.”
The other rabbis echo this sense of optimism.
“No matter what situation we’re in, we are ready to face any challenge,” Wolff says. “In the end, we are sure it will turn out for the good. As Chassidut teaches, it is specifically from the lowest points that one can reach the greatest heights.”
