Why do secular Jews love this branch of Orthodox Judaism so much? What is its secret?

For Jews hoping to celebrate Pesach, 2020 presented a bit of a problem. Thirteen days earlier, the UK had been told to “stay at home” because of the spreading coronavirus pandemic. But no one had reckoned on Bentzi Sudak, 46, the north London Chabad rabbi whose quick and creative thinking was to save the Seder for 4,000 British Jewish families.

“I knew, via Chabad On Call in America, that we had a portable Seder kit for people in hospital,” he says. “It came with wine, a paper plate with little tubs for the foods, and even a flicky toy frog.” From his bedroom Sudak arranged for boxes to be manufactured in London, to be packed in Norrice Lea synagogue (the volunteers packing the boxes had to be related, because of the “bubble” rule). Distribution was still a problem, but as luck would have it, Sudak received a call from a certain Stephen Goldstein, an American businessman in London who was looking for some Seder supplies.

Goldstein just happened to be a vice-president at Deliveroo. And so, within 24 hours, Goldstein and Sudak arranged for thousands of Seder kits to be home-delivered, by bike, from Chabad House hubs around the country. “10,000 people got to have a Seder that year,” he says.

The rabbi and rebbetzen with their four children preparing for PesachGetty Images

Modern technology to spread ancient wisdom: this holy juxtaposition sums up the very essence of Sudak, 46, father of six, and the executive director of Chabad Hampstead Garden Suburb, which he runs with his American wife, Rochie. The building’s somewhat prosaic shopfront is on the northbound roadside of the A1 – betraying few clues to the warm and spiritual presences within.

The movement’s full name is Chabad-Lubavitch but to many secular Jews in the UK, the latter term may be the more familiar.

“The names are interchangeable,” says Sudak.

Chabad-Lubavitch is a branch of Chasidic Jewry, and its express mission is to bring non-religious Jews closer to their faith.

The organisation has steadily grown in visibility and influence, thanks to its outward-looking philosophy and eagerness to engage with the broader Jewish community. Between 1994 and 2002, more than 610 new emissaries were dispatched, and 705 new Chabad houses opened worldwide. While Chabad is based in Brooklyn, there are 5,000 Chabad houses in more than 100 countries. Whether you find yourself in Reykjavik, Hanoi or Quito, you can pop in to the Chabad house for a meal or a Shabbat service.

Looking at a map of the world, it’s almost harder to find a country that does not have a Chabad house. One of its newest centres opened last year in Andorra.

Countries with Chabad houses[Missing Credit]

The word “Chabad” is an acronym taken from what Sudak describes as the three “cognitive energies” of the kabbalistic tree of life – chochmah (wisdom), bimah (understanding) and da’at (knowledge). The other seven energies – or sefirot of Kabbalah – have emotional properties, such as chesed (lovingkindness).

“We believe that every human at their core is connecting with their divine and Godly soul for a unique mission no one else can achieve,” says Sudak. “Every person is part of the divine, and will be empowered by Judaism to fulfil their specific purpose.”

The Chabad movement was established in 1775, in what is now Belarus, by Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi, who is also known as the Alter Rebbe. Zalman was a disciple of Dov Ber of Mezeritch, who in turn was the chief disciple of the Baal Shem Tov, the founder of the Chasidic movement.

The movement later moved to the town of Lybavichi/Lubavitch in western Russia, whence the organisation gets its name.

Fast forward to the start of the 20th century: the sixth rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn, had been imprisoned in Siberia by the Bolsheviks for “counter-revolutionary activities”.

After his release, Schneerson anticipated the arrival of the Nazis, and in 1940, he emigrated to the United States and the Chabad movement came with him.

Under Yosef Yitzchak’s son-in-law and successor, Menachem Mendel Schneerson, whose yahrzeit is this Sunday (June 29) the movement grew from an insular Chasidic sect into the influential Jewish force that it is today.

Meanwhile, in 1948, Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn, had sent his follower Bentzion Szemtow to London, with the view to setting up a Chabad-Lubavitch presence in Europe. (Bentzion’s name was later anglicised to Shem Tov.) Rabbi Bentzion, who had also spent time in a Siberian prison camp, was the grandfather of Bentzi Sudak.

My grandparents set up the first Chabad cheder here and my grandma, Golda, wrote children’s books and had a JC column. The commitment to the Jewish community is in my blood

“My grandparents came over to the UK after the war and set up the first Chabad cheder here,” says Sudak. “My grandma, Golda, wrote children’s books and plays.

“She even had a column in the JC. The commitment to the Jewish community is in my blood.”

Sudak was born in 1978 in Stamford Hill: at the age of 18, he was sent to yeshivah in New York.

Thirteen years later – via a short stint at the Chabad House in Saigon – he was asked to return to run UK Chabad. “I didn’t initially want to come back to London,” he says. “It’s a massive world, and I wanted to see it, to do work.”

The rabbi describes life in the UK, Jewish and not, as “a bit constipated. People hold back here; self-belief is limited,” he says. “UK Jews are over-cautious. We keep describing ourselves as a ‘small community’ – but we aren’t.

“We are the fifth largest Jewish community in the world. Look at Argentina, look at Russia, and what they have achieved with their Jewish centres. Instead of a starting point of ‘it’s impossible’ we should be saying: ‘let’s see what we can achieve!”

His first role was to stabilise and expand Chabad centrally, as its CEO, after which he became rabbi at the Hampstead Garden Suburb branch. Sudak’s wife Rochie also comes from a long line of Chabadniks and she was happy to join him. The couple run courses, such as the recent workshop on Nurturing Relationships: later this summer there is Art and Soul Women’s Night, and the Art of Prayer, plus the surely unmissable Whisky Night. The building can also be booked for private events.

This all seems like a spark of joy in a sea of modern Jewish gloom. What does Sudak think about the way life has changed for British Jews, particularly since October 7? He has a bullish attitude. “Look, the community had an awakening on October 7 and now we focus mainly on fighting antisemitism,” he says. “We have been directed into a defensive position, and it isn’t working. You don’t get people to love you by going on about how everyone hates you. Or by going on about how many Nobel prizes your people have won.”

Sudak recalls meeting the German ambassador, who gave the example of how his country had mandatory Holocaust education. “But the Holocaust is all we know about Jewish people,” he told Sudak. “No one has ever told us what you stand for.”

The rabbi compares Judaism to Buddhism, a religion the world loves because of its ancient wisdom. “You have to give people something to love,” he says.

So, could we learn something from the Buddhist “PR strategy”?

The solution, says Sudak, is that we must “get back to our Jewishness. We need to flip the script. Most Jews stop their Jewish education at the age of 12 and most Jewish people, when they come together, don’t talk about Jewish things.

“But there is always something fresh to talk about. Wake up! We are smart people.”

Chabad as an organisation are certainly lively and “out there”. American readers may be familiar with “mitzvah tanks”, converted camper-vans that serve as mobile outreach centres. (Unlike other Chasidic groups who wear fur-lined hats on Shabbat, Chabadniks traditionally wear fedoras.) It’s not uncommon across the Atlantic to see them approaching men on the street, asking: “are you Jewish?” If the answer is yes, the man is swiftly wrapped with tefillin.

I spoke to Josh, a Jew now living in the UK, whose first encounter with Chabad was on the streets of Brooklyn and he is now a semi-regular attendee at his community in south London. “I remember vividly walking down the street in Williamsburg on a lunch break with some colleague when a Chabadnik approached us, ignoring the two guys I was with and directly asking me if I was Jewish. Their Jew-dar is impeccable.

Their perseverance in getting you to come along to events isn’t something I’ve really encountered in a Jewish context before

“Five years later, I’m going to High Holy Day services at my local rabbi’s house. Their perseverance in getting you to come along is something I’ve never really encountered in a Jewish context before, and it makes a nice change to feel like people actually want you there rather than putting up barriers to getting involved. Even my super secular kibbutz-raised father attends the odd event with me.”

North Londoners may have attended Chabad-organised menorah lightings in Crouch End, Muswell Hill and East Finchley. The vibe at these events is joyful and positive. (And there are doughnuts.)

Following his triumph with the mobile Seders at the start of Covid, Sudak needed a way to tackle Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. On the second day of Rosh Hashanah, he organised Shofar on the Block, a series of shofar blowings on people’s driveways and streets of Hampstead Garden Suburb. Residents were able to join in a socially distanced way from their homes, standing in small groups on the street or even their balconies.

“Our volunteers included Lord David Wolfson, the Shadow Attorney General,” says Sudak.

“He said it was the best Rosh Hashanah he had ever had.”

Loud and clear, the Chabadniks are certainly getting their message out there, and unlike other Chasidic groups, they are not shy of using modern technology in their mission.

For Pesach 2025, Sudak created an imaginative Haggadah for children, with each page following the layout and type-face of different social media platforms: Instagram, X, even Wordle.  During the JC’s intervieew, we were were joined by a Jewish technology guru who plans to help Sudak harness the power of AI – the very latest heavenly messenger to remind each person in the world how they are “unique and divine”.

“We have reached 30 percent of the local community who are not engaged in Judaism anywhere else,” says Sudak. “The ambition now is to ‘scale up’ and deliver the message of 3,000 years of Jewish wisdom. Many people think that Judaism is like the Queen, revered, respected and rolled out, but otherwise ‘nothing to do with me’. But our religion empowers every area of life.”

He quotes the late Chief Rabbi, Jonathan Sacks. “‘Non Jews are proud of Jews who are proud of their Judaism’.

“You have to realise you have a treasure,” he says. “If there’s a girl in a bar, and she doesn’t have confidence or self-belief, she will not succeed [in attracting a man].”