When I was growing up, it seemed like I was the only one I knew who questioned the meaning of life. This lack of clarity caused me tremendous anxiety as a child, and even as a teenager. I was happy when I stopped thinking so much, when I stopped questioning why I had been dealt a relatively good hand. Finally, IIt seemed like I was the only one I knew who questioned the meaning of life could enjoy life the same way everyone else did until my luck ran out, or better yet, until my life ran out. But I always held out hope that before I died, I would learn the truth of the world.
My journey towards this truth began when my husband Zev and I attended a Chabad Shabbaton in 1987. By then, I already knew I was living my non-observant life because I was Jewishly ignorant. What compelled me to buy into Torah observance after that weekend was a fundamental concept I learned there: G‑d indeed exists, and He gave the Torah to the entire Jewish nation to teach us how to reveal His presence in a world that conceals it. Through the Jewish people’s efforts, and everyone’s efforts, in partnering with G‑d to perfect the world, goodness will eventually saturate all of creation. This will then “tip the scales,” catalyzing a transformation in the world through the coming of Moshiach, at which time everyone will physically perceive G‑dliness. I had never heard such a plausible explanation for the purpose of existence, or the purpose of the Jewish people.
But it was also my moment of truth: If I wanted a world that made sense, as a Jew, I should commit to hastening the Messianic redemption by learning Torah and doing mitzvahs. Even though my husband and I would need to completely change our lives, that’s exactly what we decided to do.
And as hard as it was to change, I never regretted my decision. Especially because over time (a lot of time!), I could feel how learning Torah and doing mitzvahs transformed everything about me. I was also incentivized by the LubavitcherAs hard as it was to change, I never regretted my decision Rebbe’s promise that Moshiach could come at any moment. The Rebbe assured everyone that just one small good deed or a fleeting thought of wanting to be closer to G‑d could be enough to catalyze this process. This is what I aspire towards personally, and what I hope my writing will inspire in others.
Writing about Moshiach helps me think more concretely about his coming, and I try to behave as if he’s already here—by seeing the underlying G‑dliness in everything and everyone. But as much as I try to be a G‑dly person, there’s always a part of me that feels its own existence, that grapples with less-than-holy impulses (thank you, Adam and Eve, for bequeathing me my inner evil). The more I recognize this deficiency within myself, the more I can ask G‑d from the depths of my soul to fix me and my world. Because we all need Moshiach.
It’s becoming so clear that many of the world’s problems cannot be resolved naturally. Because now more than ever, G‑d wants everyone to see that Moshiach is not just the Jewish answer for the world. It’s the only answer for the world.
