I Owe It All to Rabbi Josh Gordon

By Lev Yakov Voskoboynik

There is no measuring the power of a smile, the effect of a few kind words. Rabbi Yehoshua “Josh” Gordon OBM, shliach of the Rebbe to Encino, California, accomplished many amazing things during his life- established a large Chabad house, built up a flourishing community, recorded a daily Rambam class that has affected and continues to affect thousands of people via Chabad.org- and the impact of his work is being felt, in a very real way, to this day.

Yet his true uniqueness, the quality that distinguished him in the eyes of all who met him, was in the small things- a kind word, a good morning. The way he took the time to notice people, to show them he cared about them- those small, commonly overlooked things that have the power to change lives.

I should know. They changed mine.

This story took place seventeen years ago, when I was only three years old. My parents were not observant, and my home was one without much mention of religious topics. Yet one Yom Kippur, my parents felt a strong desire to be in a shul, at least on this holiest of days. Taking me along, they drove up to a nearby Conservative synagogue.

To their dismay, however, they were turned away at the door. No ticket, they were informed, meant no seat, and that was that.

Disappointed yet undeterred, they got back in the car and drove to a Reform temple, only to meet with the same dismissal. At this point, my mother was upset and disgusted. Here they were, two Jews just trying to do the right thing, to pray with other Jews on the most important Jewish holiday, to share that experience with their young son- and this was the reception they were getting? This was Judaism?!

Frustrated, she went home, but my father decided to try one last place, a place he knew would not turn him down.

And that was how my father and I ended up making our way into Chabad of Encino just as the Yom Kippur morning services were nearing their halfway point. We got siddurim and headed to the back, grateful, at least, that we had been allowed in.

Imagine my father’s surprise when the Rabbi himself came over to him after the services and warmly shook his hand. Particularly, my father remembers how Rabbi Gordon turned to me, a little three-year-old child, and smiled at me, making sure I felt comfortable.

He left that day with the memory of that thoughtful gesture lingering in his mind.
Fast forward eleven years. My family had since moved to Northridge, another city around twenty-five minutes away from Encino, in the San Fernando Valley. For years they had attended a local Conservative synagogue, but high fees were driving them to find someplace else. A nearby Young Israel caught their eyes- many of their friends had started attending services there, and it seemed more welcoming than their old shul.

Yet then, somehow, they heard about Chabad of Northridge, and that old memory resurfaced in my father’s mind. He decided to give it a chance, before committing to Young Israel, in light of the positive experience he’d had in the past.

As it happened, they never left.

One thing led to another, and my family began attending the Chabad House on a regular basis. Then one day, the Shliach, Rabbi Eli Rivkin, approached my father about a new program called C-teen Extreme, a summer trip for Jewish teens that was then entering its pilot year.

The amazing experience I had there sent me on a long and winding path towards re-discovering my Yiddishkeit. That trip brought to further involvement in Chabad, from wearing a yarmulke to learning Chassidus to reaching out to others. Together with Rabbi Eli, I started a C-teen chapter in my city, with over forty teens coming together every week to learn Torah, do mitzvos, and celebrate their Yiddishkeit.

I moved from public school to Yeshiva, and now learn in Oholei Torah in Crown Heights. The change has snowballed, affecting my parents, grandparents, friends, and many more. Thousands of mitzvos have been done- tefilin, mezuzah, tzitzis, even a bris! Dozens of lives have been changed for the better, dozens of souls ignited, dozens of candles lit.

There is no measuring the power of a smile. That one simple act of Rabbi Gordon rippled outwards, growing larger and larger, transforming my life and countless others for the better.

I owe this all to him. Every mitzvah I do, every person I affect, is an addition to his legacy, to the long list of countless lives he touched. May these mitzvos lead us to the day when we will see him again, together with Moshiach, speedily in our days.