"I pick up the phone and hear him say: 'I apologize for the timing, it's Friday evening, but this is a matter of saving a life'"

"The truth is there's an interesting story behind the weekly lesson I deliver," Rabbi Shneor Ashkenazi says bashfully when I ask him about the founding of his beloved class, which receives tens of thousands of views every week. "13 years ago, I started giving a lesson on the weekly Torah portion at a synagogue in Rishon LeZion. I didn't aim for anything big, just a regular neighborhood class. A few months after we started, suddenly during one of the lessons, a tall man entered with five bags and asked to film the lesson. A Chabadnik never opposes spreading the word, so I gladly agreed. After the lesson, the man approached me and told me he's a baal teshuva filmmaker and wants to share the lesson with others."

"That filmmaker had a small website, and every week a few hundred people viewed the lesson on his site. Months later, I learned that the Chabad news site also uploaded the lesson, and after a few years, the site's technical manager approached me, saying it was too heavy on their servers and suggested uploading the lessons to YouTube. I didn't know what YouTube was, but I agreed happily, and so it made another significant leap, and today it's likely the largest Torah lesson in the world. The lesson is broadcasted on Kol Chai, Kol Berama, Kol Lashon, and dozens of WhatsApp groups, YouTube, and more. The lesson is delivered on Sunday at nine, and by midnight it's already online."

There are many advantages and disadvantages to the internet; what do you think is unique about spreading the lessons this way?

"One of the special things about the web is that you don't know where things will reach. The Torah is compared to water, and there are various interpretations of this, one of which is that you know where it enters but not where it will exit or where it will reach. A Jew stands in Rishon LeZion talking to a camera, and often the words reach people and places he never dreamed of. I receive feedback from all over the world, from Reform Jews, from non-Jews. This tool has simply changed the world."

"There are so many examples. For instance, just a few hours ago, I received a message from a Jew who grew up in a conservative Hasidic family and left the path in his youth. He met a secular woman and has been in a relationship with her for years. She told him about a lesson she likes to watch online and recommended it to him. He wrote to me that following the lesson, he started to strengthen his faith, but she wants to remain secular, and he wanted to consult with me if he should marry her or leave her and look for a religious woman."

Bringing Peace at Home

Rabbi Shneor Ashkenazi (43), father of seven, lives in Rishon LeZion and serves as a Chabad emissary and rabbi of the city's central synagogue. "I was born into the Ashkenazi family in Kfar Chabad, where my father served as the village rabbi for decades, and his father and grandfather were also rabbis. My father was a great Torah scholar, and my mother an amazing educator. In my youth, I studied at Chabad yeshivas in the country and then spent four years studying at the 770, the Rebbe's yeshiva, and married the daughter of the main Chabad emissary in Rishon LeZion. After the wedding, we moved to Rishon LeZion and have been here for over twenty years. Rishon LeZion is a non-religious city, to say the least, and there's plenty of work to do here. There are more than fifty Chabad emissaries in Rishon, my wife manages an elementary school in the city, and we strive to bring as many people as possible closer."

"I studied Halacha and rabbinics for several years, but my main focus is spreading the teachings of Hasidism to the people of Israel. The great advantage of Hasidic teachings and their great message to our generation is that they speak a lot about closeness to Hashem and give a person the feeling that they are very close to Hashem, which is, of course, true. Beyond that, Hasidism claims that our lower world is actually the highest world. Hasidism sees the beauty and goodness in this world and tells a Jew that they are closest to Hashem, more than any other creations in all the worlds. Hasidism has great faith in people and claims they have immense power to correct and influence."

"And speaking of spreading Hasidism," continues Rabbi Ashkenazi, "I also work in the content department of Chabad Youth, and in this role, I prepare Torah materials for the Rebbe's emissaries. A Chabad emissary manages an entire world of activity in his area of operation. He needs to recruit workers, pay them salaries, and so on. One of the main roles of a Chabad emissary is also to teach Torah, which is known to be no easy task. What we do is write lesson plans, and these lessons reach the many emissaries who deliver them all over the world."

Since we're talking about the teachings of Hasidism, which famously speaks extensively about self-nullification and humility—how do you cope with the substantial public attention in your life due to the weekly lesson?

"The challenge of humility is indeed a big one, and I won't deny it. There are many people who know me, but I tell myself every morning that everything I have, I received from Hashem. I'm like a merchant carrying diamonds, so what do I have to be proud of? I'm just an emissary. When a Jew approaches me and thanks me, I lift my eyes and say to Hashem, 'Thank you for letting me help this Jew, and please grant me further strength to help others as well.'"

"At the same time, there are certain challenges surrounding the delivery of the lesson, including the enormous load it brings into my life. But I see that my activity in this area greatly helps people, and this is one of the things that gives me the most strength to continue. For example, four years ago, on a Friday morning, a Chabad emissary from one of the prestigious cities in Israel called me. I pick up the phone and hear him say: 'I apologize for the timing, it's Friday evening, but this is a matter of saving a life. There's a couple living near me who are splitting up next week. The husband already ordered a truck to take his things. They were very wealthy and fell from grace, went through a process of strengthening in my community, and I feel responsible for them. I didn't know what to do, and when I talked to them, I asked if there's anything else they do together, to see if there's anything to fix. I expected them to mention something about the children, but they said that on Thursday nights, they open the big screen in their living room and watch your lesson. You're their last glue. There's been so much bad blood between them, but I said maybe you could bring peace. You're the last hope.'"

I suppose you hear many difficult cases. What do you do in these situations?

"I have a cardinal rule in this regard. I'm not a member of WhatsApp groups, I don't get involved, but if something reaches me, I feel obligated to deal with it as far as I can reach. I can't and don't have to solve all the world's problems, but if Hashem arranged for something to come to me, then it seems I need to help with it. Thank G-d, I travel a lot on the roads, and during my travels, I use the time to make phone calls. On that Friday, I wasn't traveling, but due to the urgency, I called that person. He said he wanted peace in the home, but his wife didn't. I called her, and she said: 'If you care about us, make it as short as possible. He's as stubborn as a mule, won't let go. I don't want anything from him, not even money, just for him to take his things and leave.'"

"Shortly before this conversation took place, that husband began experiencing some terrible years, ones I wouldn't wish on my worst enemies. He left the house, and his situation seriously deteriorated. He lost his livelihood, had mental issues, physical issues, and more. He reached a terrible despair, self-hatred, and loss of self-respect. I felt there was no way back for him, but Hashem gave me advice for him: I told him that no matter what happens, never stop honoring his wife and never stop working towards peace in the home—as much as he can. All, of course, within the boundaries of Halacha and morality."

Fortunately, she didn't file for divorce in the rabbinical court, because if she had started, I would have told him to end it. Being a get refuser, heaven forbid, is not allowed. The situation was very difficult for him, but for a long time, he would travel with self-sacrifice to be with her and the children on Shabbats. At some point, his wife initiated a divorce process in the rabbinical court, and I was sure it was going to end. A few days later, he called me, and I remember exactly where I was when this happened, it was a week after Pesach, and he tells me: 'My wife called and said she wants me to come home. She wants to give the relationship a chance. We spent Passover night apart, some of the kids were with me and some with her, and that night, she realized it's better to keep the home.'"

"This call restored my faith in him and in their marriage, and in every way people make to solve a problem they're dealing with—even if it's particularly hard. If they managed to keep their home, it says a lot about other tough cases. A person should never give up and do their best—obviously according to the laws of Halacha and common decency—to return to the right path. Hashem believes in us, gives us strength, and we must use it to bring the entire world to its redemption and correction. I pray that we merit it."