By Rabbi Josh Wander
Every year, Gimmel Tammuz evokes powerful and often conflicting emotions within the Chabad world and far beyond it. On the one hand, it marks the day of the passing of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, one of the most influential Jewish leaders of modern times. On the other hand, it is impossible to speak about the Rebbe without confronting the central message that defined the latter part of his life: the insistence that we are living on the threshold of redemption and that our generation bears the responsibility of bringing Moshiach.
The Rebbe transformed world Jewry in ways that are difficult to exaggerate. Through his worldwide network of shluchim, Judaism reached corners of the globe that had long been forgotten. Thousands of young Jews discovered their heritage through a Chabad House in a remote city, on a university campus, or in places where only a handful of Jews lived. The Rebbe restored Jewish pride after the devastation of the Holocaust and inspired a generation to see itself not as victims of history, but as active participants in shaping Jewish destiny.
Yet perhaps his most revolutionary contribution was his unwavering focus on Moshiach. For centuries, Jews prayed for redemption but often relegated it to the realm of distant dreams. The Rebbe insisted that Geulah is not merely a theological principle or a line in our siddur. It is a process unfolding before our eyes. He repeatedly called upon Jews not simply to await redemption, but to prepare for it, to live with it, and to recognize the signs of its emergence in real time.
There is, however, an important philosophical distinction that deserves mention. Long before the establishment of the State of Israel, great rabbinic thinkers such as Rav Tzvi Hirsch Kalischer and Rav Yehuda Alkalai argued that the process of redemption would require active human participation in the physical world. Rav Avraham Yitzchak HaKohen Kook later expanded this idea, viewing the physical rebuilding of the Jewish nation in its land as itself an integral stage of redemption. According to this approach, Jews are not merely passive observers of redemption but active partners in bringing it about through concrete actions in the physical world.
The Lubavitcher Rebbe charted a different course. While he was a passionate supporter of Eretz Yisrael and the security of its inhabitants, his emphasis regarding Geulah was overwhelmingly spiritual. He repeatedly stressed that Moshiach would be brought through Torah, mitzvot, acts of goodness and kindness, and increasing spiritual awareness. The task of our generation, in his view, was not primarily to build redemption through political and national initiatives, but to refine ourselves spiritually and prepare the world to receive a redemption that is ultimately brought by Hashem.
Perhaps our generation is increasingly discovering that these approaches are not mutually exclusive but complementary. Those who emphasize physical hishtadlut must remember that redemption is not merely a geopolitical process. There is a Master Chess Player above, orchestrating events, moving kings and nations as pieces upon His board. Military victories, diplomatic developments, economic upheavals, and political revolutions are not random occurrences. They are part of a Divine drama unfolding before our eyes. To focus exclusively on physical events while ignoring their spiritual dimension is to miss the Author behind the story.
At the same time, those who emphasize the spiritual dimension of redemption must also recognize that spirituality alone is not sufficient. Standing at the shores of the Yam Suf, the Jewish people cried out in prayer. Yet Hashem’s response to Moshe was startling: “מַה תִּצְעַק אֵלָי… דַּבֵּר אֶל בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וְיִסָּעוּ” — “Why do you cry out to Me? Speak to the Children of Israel and let them move forward.” There are moments when prayer must be accompanied by action, when faith itself demands that we step into history and physically participate in the unfolding redemption.
This lesson is particularly relevant as we approach this year’s Gimmel Tammuz. In recent days, we have once again found ourselves on the familiar rollercoaster of redemption. Israel directly confronted Iran, and for a brief moment many imagined that the Islamic Republic’s nuclear ambitions might finally be decisively dismantled. There was a sense that history was accelerating and that the Middle East stood on the precipice of a dramatic transformation. Yet suddenly the conversation shifted toward negotiations, ceasefires, and concessions. Once again, great powers appear willing to settle for temporary arrangements rather than definitive resolutions.
Many people feel disappointed. Some feel betrayed. Others are simply exhausted. We thought we were climbing upward toward redemption only to feel as though we have suddenly plunged downward. But perhaps this is precisely the lesson of Gimmel Tammuz.
The Rebbe taught us to recognize that redemption unfolds in ways that often appear contradictory. The Jewish people have repeatedly experienced moments that seemed like tremendous setbacks only to discover later that they were necessary stages in a much larger process. The Exodus itself was preceded by harsher slavery. The return to Zion in the days of Ezra was fraught with political reversals and hostile decrees. Chazal describe redemption as קמעא קמעא, emerging gradually, with periods of concealment and revelation.
The rollercoaster itself is not evidence that redemption has stalled. Rather, it may be evidence that we are actually on the ride. Political alliances shift. Great powers change course. Promises are made and broken. We place our hopes in presidents, governments, military coalitions, and international agreements only to be reminded time and again of the timeless declaration of Chazal: אין לנו על מי להישען אלא על אבינו שבשמים.
Perhaps this is one of the enduring messages of Gimmel Tammuz. The Rebbe spent his life urging Jews to lift their eyes beyond immediate events and to view history through the lens of Geulah. Rav Kalischer, Rav Alkalai, and Rav Kook reminded us that redemption also demands physical participation and courageous action. Perhaps our generation needs both messages simultaneously: the faith to recognize the Divine hand guiding history and the courage to move forward when Hashem commands us, ויסעו.
The question is not whether the rollercoaster will continue. It almost certainly will. The question is whether we will panic at every sudden turn or whether we will learn to see both dimensions of redemption at once—to recognize the Master Chess Player directing the game from above while accepting our responsibility to take our place on the board and move the pieces entrusted to us.