I was musing with an idea. It was inspired by quite an unlikely source: a headline about a concert, a rave review of the opening night heading off a massive world tour. A huge spectacle. Larger-than-life. A massive display of lights, props, and gimmicks to animate and to compensate for the otherwise all-too-humanly-sized entertainers.

So I was thinking: what would it be like if the personalities of 770 - that is, the dignitaries of the Lubavitcher Rebbe’s court, at 770 Eastern Parkway, Crown Heights, Brooklyn, location of the Lubavitch World Headquarters, the heart of light in the heart of darkness - what would happen if these larger-than-life personalities head out on a mega-tour of their own?

"Doing what?!" you’re probably wondering.

It is true that some of them can actually sing. In fact, chassidim are known for their enchanting melodies, called niggunim. But I’m talking about more than just music. I’m talking about a full-scale tour of chassidim doing what chassidim do best. I’m talking about chassidim in their own environment, in their own domain - only, out on the road, on tour, appearing at the largest venues.

And what exactly is their domain? A chassidishe farbrengen, of course.

***

My trusty Yiddish-English pocket-dictionary translates farbrengen as, "To spend time enjoying oneself."

(As a neophyte I always thought that the word "farbrengen" simply means the way it sounds in English: far bringing, bringing others from afar, bringing everyone together - even those who might seem to be a little distant - to sit together at a tish (table), and to say "l’chaim" over nasty-tasting, Russian, alcoholic beverages, and to eat mostly pickled, salty foods, like schmaltz-herring. Well, live and learn: to officially be considered a farbrengen, you must enjoy yourself, as well.)

But it’s more than just that. A farbrengen is a gathering of people who care about each other enough to strengthen each other and to straighten each other out. And the medicine is older than chicken soup: a sharp dose of stories about the early chassidim and their Rebbeim, words of Torah and its most treasured secrets - all blended in a montage of song and spontaneity, and all for the purpose of connecting to the Rebbe.

***

Of course, the ultimate farbrengen must be with the Rebbe himself.

The Rebbe would customarily farbreng for several hours straight. So people, much younger than the Rebbe, would fill up on coffee in attempt to keep up with the Rebbe’s extraordinary pace and stamina.

(The only problem is that it is difficult for us ordinary people to sit in one place for so long after consuming so many cups of coffee. And you certainly would not want to have to leave in the middle of a farbrengen - you just might lose your seat, or, more likely, your standing area. So, some inventive people, as I have heard it told - though perhaps they were just jesting - would actually eat coffee. Pretty clever, huh? The Rebbe himself, "a man of G-d," would take no recesses.)

There is no doubt that the next time the Rebbe farbrengs - in a way that we can all see him - even the greatest arenas won’t be able to hold the droves and masses.

But that’s not the kind of farbrengen I’m talking about right now. (We’ll have to save that for another time, G-d willing.) I’m talking about chassidim going on tour - Lubavitch dignitaries, of whom I’ve heard it said that had they been a part of a different group of chassidim (in other words, if they were not Lubavitchers) they would have been rebbes in their own right.

Let me tell you about two of these larger-than-life chassidim.

(Please keep in mind: chassidim are very modest and humble. If they knew that I’m writing about any one of them in particular, I’m liable to get tarred-and-feathered, Heaven forefend! So I daren’t use their actual names.)

Two chassidim. Both slightly older, respected in the community.

The one chassid - let’s call him Reb Izzy - is just a little disheveled in appearance. His features are pronounced and framed by a somewhat ragged, salt-and-pepper beard. His voice is strong, but hoarse, and he is no stranger to smoking. Yet he is a man of the heart, dedicated and soulful - a real chassid.

The other chassid - let’s call him Reb Yankel - sports immaculate, newly-pressed clothes and a snow-white beard. His eyes are sharp and alert. He is soft-spoken, analytical, and deliberate - a true teacher and a worthy role-model.

We take you now to a particularly famous 1991 address of the Rebbe, a speech that was duly attended by our two chassidim, Reb Izzy and Reb Yankel:

By this point, upon feeling the immediacy and urgency of the Rebbe’s words, Reb Izzy had become worked up in a fervor of excitement. But his friend, Reb Yankel was quick to try to level him off with a sharp reminder: "Nu, Reb Izzy - where are your keilim d’Tikkun?"

"Nu, Reb Yankel," came the lightning response, "where are your oros d’Tohu?!"

***

The truth is - as the Rebbe has taught us - in order to bring Moshiach, we need to utilize both approaches. The campaign to bring Moshiach must incorporate both the excitement and urgency of unbridled enthusiasm and the calculating efficiency of order. Whatever it takes - even if it means organizing mega-farbrengens the likes of which the world is yet to see.

May we merit to farbreng with the Rebbe in celebration of the advent of the Messianic Era.