There are different types of holidays in Judaism. Starting with the special occasions clearly mentioned in the Torah, such as Rosh Hashanah or Yom Kippur, moving on to those merely indicated, like the joy of pouring water on the altar during Sukkot, and culminating in the holidays established by our sages, such as Hanukkah and Purim, we experience all kinds of feelings and experiences throughout the year. Incidentally, the daily The Nation He published an article about vacation days in various countries, surprising everyone with only 9 days for the Japanese, but the truth is that in Judaism there are no vacations... every day one must pray, perform Mitzvot, etc. (a holiday does not imply a vacation).
However, there are other kinds of festivities, the happy moments in history in which events occurred that were fundamental to Jewish continuity, such as the release of the previous Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneerson, of blessed memory, from imprisonment in communist Russia, on the 12th of Tammuz in 1927 (this Thursday the 24th in the Gregorian calendar this year).
To briefly explain what happened, at the height of the Soviet Union which prohibited religious practice, the Rebbe worked hard spreading the observance of Torah and Mitzvot, founding schools and building clandestine mikvaot (ritual baths) to support the Jews of Russia.
On the 15th of Sivan, the Rebbe was taken prisoner, where he remained for 27 days, enduring torture and physical and psychological suffering. The initial intention was to kill him, but later, due to international and local pressure, his sentence was changed to 10 years of exile in Siberia, then to 3 years in Kastrama, and finally to his complete release.
When the Rebbe left prison to be sent to Kastrama, at the train station, in front of many Russian secret police officers, he gave a short speech to the assembled followers. Among other things, the Rebbe said, "Know, everyone, that according to the laws of the country, it is permissible to study Torah and observe mitzvot.""
A year later, when the Rebbe was in Leningrad, preparing to leave Russia, he uttered the following words: "I am not leaving Russia because I was forced to leave, but because there is a spiritual matter for which I must change my place of residence and go elsewhere. If you are told that according to the laws of the country it is forbidden to study Torah, know that this is a lie. There is no law that prohibits the study of Torah, and everyone should find a teacher to instruct their children.""
The event (whose detailed description is beyond the scope of this editorial) and the Rebbe's words throughout his liberation offer us a fundamental life lesson: we often encounter a world that seemingly hinders, and even opposes, the observance of Torah. Local customs, society in general, and family traditions appear to be formidable obstacles for those contemplating the possibility of performing a mitzvah. The Rebbe's attitude toward his confinement and miraculous liberation teaches us that not only should we not fear even the most extreme difficulties, but that, moreover, the world itself, deep down, approves, expects, and demands that the Jewish people fulfill their role in the observance of Torah and mitzvot.
These moments, despite not being explicitly mentioned in the Torah and not by our sages, mark our lives in a very particular way, and their expression is seen in two aspects: 1) on the one hand, we add them as holidays to our calendar, changing the usual order of prayer (supplications are omitted) to indicate and express our joy, and 2) on the other hand, we meditate on the life lessons they offer us, both generally (as mentioned above) and specifically, since were it not for what happened on the 12th and 13th of Tammuz in 5687, I wouldn't be writing this editorial and you wouldn't be reading it...