Question:
“Rabbi Moss is the rudest rabbi!” That's how I felt yesterday when I saw you from a distance walking down aisle 3 in Coles Supermarket. I called out to you, but you didn't hear. I approached you, calling your name repeatedly, but you ignored me. I finally caught up with you and slapped you on the shoulder, only to find out that ...it wasn't you at all. It was actually some other Chasidic Jew, wearing the same black velvet skullcap that you wear, the same dark wool jacket and pants and business shirt, the same beard and rimless glasses. He looked so similar to you, even you would have been confused. I felt like a fool.

I realized that this must happen to you often. All you Chasidic guys look the same! Same black hats, white shirts and black pants. It must be easy for you guys to get dressed in the morning. “What should I wear today -- the black jacket or the blue?” How boring! Where's the individuality? Where's freedom of expression? Don’t you have any originality?

My heart goes out for chasidic youth who have to maintain the dark dress code long after they graduate. How frustrating this must be for an entire community of young spirits who cannot express themselves as they would like to and must instead dress as their fathers and grandfathers.

What surprises me more than anything is that you, Rabbi Moss, an intelligent young man who had the good fortune of growing up in a normal Jewish home, chose to embrace the chasidic lifestyle and dress. How you have changed from the days I knew you in high school. Why a liberated person would willingly subject himself to individual suppression is beyond me.

Sincerely,
Max

Answer:

First, I apologize for seeming to ignore you -- even though it wasn't me.

I also wish to express my gratitude for your compassion for Chasidim, myself included. Thanks for your sensitivity and concern.

I can’t speak for others, only for myself. In my personal life I have found the opposite to be true. The Chasidic dress code actually helps me be more creative, original and individualistic. Here’s why.

You see, being an individual means having something unique about yourself that no one else has. According to you, to be original you need a weird shirt, cool shoes and an unusual haircut. The more unusual your “look,” the more you stand out to establish your individuality. But let me ask you, is that really what makes you different from others? Is that all you can do to be unique -- put on one outfit or another? Couldn't anyone do that? Is that what really defines your unique individualistic identity?

Walt Whitman in his poem O Me! O Life! cries out:

What good amid these, O me, O life?
Answer.
That you are here--that life exists, and identity;
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.

Are you saying that the “verse” Whitman was referring to was your dress style?

In Jewish tradition, it is not the clothing that makes an individual, but the character. When you are a part of a community that all dress the same, there is only one way to stand out: You have to be original, not your clothing. The people around you notice you for your character, how you treat people, your manner of speech, the flavor of your soul, the hue of your heart, the depth of your sacrifices, the quality of your relationships, the struggles of your psyche. You can't hide behind a superficial individuality based on hairstyle and fashion -- you have to be a real individual.

Max, I'm not telling you to go out and buy a black hat and jacket. Everybody ought to dress as they like. But perhaps you should rethink how you look at yourself, and how you are projecting your image to the world around you. Is it possible that many of us are obsessed with dressing peculiarly only to compensate for the lack of a genuine inner individuality and the absence of awareness of our unique place and mission in this world?

People who are truly comfortable with their individuality need not let their hair grow to their knees or tattoo themselves from head to toe, nor walk around half-naked to prove that they are different. Long hair, short hair, black pants, yellow pants, who cares? Its what's inside that makes a man. Max, do you still remember your excitement in 11th grade when you discovered William Blake?

To see a World in a grain of sand,
And a Heaven in a wild flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand,
And Eternity in an hour.