Some friends of mine facilitated a cool podcast this week about the Mitzvah Tank experience. Starting in the mid-seventies, many large metropolitan areas have been graced with the scene of RVs converted into makeshift synagogues or Jewish libraries parked at major pedestrian thoroughfares.
Chabad rabbinical students man these mobiles, asking passersby if they are Jewish and offer the men to wrap Tefillin and gift women candles to light before Shabbat evening. The moniker “Mitzvah Tank” evolved early on in tribute to the ability for these roving Chabad installations to bring Jewish observance to frontiers previously unimaginable – similar to the role of standard tanks in battle.
Three Jews with diverse experiences on the receiving end of the “Excuse me, are you Jewish?” question, rode along on a Mitzvah Tank to see what makes these inspired young men tick.
They schmooze about Jewish identity, pride and culture, but mainly seek to understand the psychology behind approaching strangers and popping Mitzvahs. Dovid, Motti and Mordechai spell it all out very clearly and I encourage you to hear what they have to say here.
But I’d like to share with you a lesson from this week’s parsha that illuminates an important aspect of what has become a basic staple of Jewish life today.
We learn of the Mitzvah of Nedarim – Oaths. Here is how it works. If one feels it necessary to refrain from all gluten, for example, a firm resolution is often sorely insufficient to keeping this impulse in check. So Judaism provides the nuclear option of making an oath. When an individual makes a proper oath not to eat gluten, it assumes the status of a holy sacrifice for this individual alone. This makes his or her donut munching far more devastating than unhealthy or impulsive behavior. It now becomes sacrilegious!
To be clear, this provision applies only to foods and behaviors permitted in Jewish law. In the event that these kosher things can be physically or spiritually detrimental, the power of the “Neder – Oath” may be invoked.
From a philosophical perspective, a fascinating irony emerges: A powerful way to neutralize the negative effects of something is by making it holy!
How does this all connect to the boys on the Mitzvah Tanks?
Unfortunately, there are many Jews lacking the opportunity to observe many Mitzvot for a host of reasons. So they spend their free time from studies seeking out these Jews to make them aware of how important they are to G-d and how precious their one Mitzvah is to Judaism at large. They are neutralizing the negativity of religious apathy though emphasizing the crucial value of each and every Jew.
Is this a Chabad tactic? No. It is simply the truth.