Rabbis' Blog

This Shabbat marks 80 years since the passing of the Rebbe’s father. Rabbi Levi Yitzchok Schneerson was the chief rabbi of Denipro, Ukraine, and the only leader of his caliber to operate in the Soviet Union throughout the 1930s. He heroically stood as a bulwark against their fiendish efforts to destroy Judaism there, paying the ultimate sacrifice as he passed away in 1944 relatively young in the remote region of Almaty, Kazakhstan after a lengthy exile. 

Aside from his legendary rabbinic leadership, Rabbi Levi Yitzchok was widely known for his brilliant Torah scholarship. His unique style of Torah analysis was to illustrate the unity between all genres of Torah scholarship. A passage in the Talmud revealed layers of mystical meaning, and a biblical verse, understood in a broader context, conveyed transformative inspirational messages. Here is one of his teachings.

There is a mitzvah to recite the “Shema” in the morning and the evening and the second paragraph called “Vehaya Im Shamoa” is recorded in this week’s parsha. Whereas the first paragraph of the Shema describes our divine service in altruistic terms, the second paragraph describes the transactional element of our relationship with G-d.

“And it will be if you hearken to My commandments that I command you this day… I will give the rain of your land at its time… and you will gather in your grain, your wine, and your oil.”

Most of us don’t pay attention to the fact that the Torah only specifies grain, wine, and oil because we understand they represent all produce necessary for nutrition and pleasure. However, Rabbi Levi Yitzchok focused on these three products to illustrate how this verse communicates a broader message than “if you obey G-d you will eat.”

Grain, wine, and oil correspond to Pesach, Purim, and Chanukah respectively, the three major holidays of our national redemption. The Israelites initially emigrated from Israel to Egypt so that Joseph could provide them with grain during a terrible famine, which ultimately led to their enslavement by Pharaoh. At the appointed time, their redemption was so swift, that they had no time to allow their dough (made from grain) to rise, and we commemorate it each year by eating Matzah (made from grain).

The Purim story formally begins with the royal feast dominated by wine drinking that led to Haman’s rise to power. Queen Esther ultimately destroyed Haman at a private wine party and we celebrate each year by drinking wine.

The Assyrian Greek empire launched its war against Judaism by intentionally defiling all the olive oil in the Holy Temple compound. When the Maccabees regained control of the Holy Temple, they were graced with the miracle of finding a one-day supply of ritually pure olive oil that miraculously burned brightly for eight days in the Menorah, commemorated each year on Chanukah through lighting candles for eight nights, preferably of oil.

Now we can read the paragraph as saying “If you hearken to My commandments… you will merit redemption.”

As the world stumbles from conflict to conflict and ricochets from crisis to crisis, we are assured that every Mitzvah we do hastens the realization of the ultimate redemption through Moshiach who will usher in an era of true peace and serenity for all.

They say reality is more bizarre than fiction, but this week I was genuinely surprised to see the insanity the world can offer. Israel was persuaded to engage in cease-fire negotiations, even though Hamas refused to participate, and the media reports progress was made. Surely this episode will feed comedic skits and parodies for generations, and I would laugh at it too if it did not impact the security of millions of our brothers and sisters in the Holy Land.

Without commenting on the substance of these negotiations, or whether Israel should negotiate with murderous terrorists in the first place, the fact that one side of a conflict could be dragged to the negotiating table and “negotiate” with the other side in absentia makes me wonder what the world has come to. When cynicism becomes the norm and reality no longer matters, one can wonder how it is possible to navigate such a world, let alone make it a better place for all.

But the teachings of this week’s parsha allayed my fears. We learn how Moshe reviewed the story of the “Giving of the Torah” at Mt. Sinai when G-d communicated the Ten Commandments. That pivotal event marked the beginning of the process of revealing the inherent divinity and goodness embedded in every detail of the universe. It was a once-in-history moment when everything was aligned with its creator and purpose, to show how with hard work and following the script it can become the revealed truth.

Several days ago I read a letter the Rebbe addressed to a Chabad activist in Israel from 1952 where the Rebbe invoked the difference between an Artesian Well and a regular well.

A regular well is a hole in the ground deep enough to reach water, which can be found everywhere. To access the water one needs to either send down a bucket or install a pump to bring the water to the surface. An Artesian Well is a hole drilled in an area of rock and soil that stores water under pressure. Once the water is reached, it flows to the surface automatically. As long as you remove the rock and soil holding it down, the water bursts forth with tremendous strength.

This helped me appreciate that at Sinai we learned our world is like an Artesian Well. We don’t need to change anything or introduce anything new. All the moral ugliness and cynicism are just rock and soil covering up the life-giving waters of divine goodness contained beneath the surface. By removing the “rock and soil” by living up to the Torah’s morals, ideals, and instructions the purpose of creation can be realized and the beautiful era of redemption can begin.

But you never know which rock or clump of soil removed will reach the water. We must therefore be vigilant to utilize every opportunity to do Mitzvot and encourage others to do the same. The much anticipated and needed global changes will flow on their own.

August 3, 2024, marked five years since the terrible shooting at Walmart that killed 23 people and injured 22. Based on my conversations over the last week, my observation of how the tragedy lives on in the collective memories of many is this. While the trauma and pain are still raw, and the consequences of that hateful crime continue to reverberate in the lives of so many, there is a focus on positivity.

Last week, an ADL panel discussion about hatred concluded with a suggestion for everyone to do more acts of kindness on August 3rd. A new play about the shooting debuted in El Paso entitled “Acts of Kindness,” a title meant to capture the phenomenal response of El Pasoans that day who lined up to donate blood and the many others who went above and beyond to support the victims and their families. At another event, a victim who shared her story emphasized the many miracles she experienced, her gratitude to G-d for the blessing of life, and her determination to leverage her suffering to help others.

All this tells me El Pasoans have an appetite to write the story of August 3rd with a positivity bias. It’s a good thing because focusing on the good is the healthiest way to heal from such a blow even without whitewashing the severity of the crime and its horrors, and ensuring that justice is done.

This week we will observe the saddest day on the Jewish calendar, Tisha B’Av. Starting Monday, August 12 at sundown through Tuesday, August 13 at nightfall Jews around the world will fast, wear non-leather shoes and recite lamentations to commemorate the destruction of our Holy Temple in Jerusalem and several other national Jewish tragedies.

Notwithstanding the excruciating pain and suffering we endured from all this destruction, our sages framed it with the following story. An elderly arab walked past a Jew plowing his field with his cow. When the cow mooed, the arab, who understood animal languages, said to the Jew, “Stop plowing your field and tear your garments because your Holy Temple was just destroyed.” A few minutes later the cow mooed again and the zoolinguist said, “Arise and rejoice, for your savior, Moshiach, was just born.”

This story illustrates that while the destruction of the Holy Temple was a historic disaster and must be observed as such, it can also be viewed as the demolition that precedes the construction of a much grander edifice than the previous one because the potential for redemption was born as the exile commenced. This is why the only prayer authored by our sages to be recited during the Amida service on Tisha B’Av, known as “Nachem,” concludes “Blessed are you G-d, the comforter of Zion and builder of Jerusalem.”

Instead of viewing Tisha B’Av exclusively as a sad day, we can apply a positivity bias and view it as Moshiach’s birthday. While we observe the mourning rituals with the memory of what was lost, we focus on the future and our ability to shape it. As Maimonides declared, one good deed, spoken word, or thought can tip the scales and bring salvation to the entire world through Moshiach. May this occur immediately, Amen.

This week brought the much-welcome news that over half a dozen horrible people were killed and will never again have the opportunity to kill and maim thousands and instill terror in millions. The traditional expression reserved for such monsters is “may their names be erased forever.”

But chopping off some of the snake’s head (there are more to go) certainly “raised the temperature” in the region and many are worried about what Israel’s enemies will do in retaliation. In such times we must increase our prayers and mitzvot, and most importantly strengthen our faith and trust in G-d that our brothers and sisters in Israel and around the world will be safe.

Which brings us to an interesting topic in this week’s parsha. As the Israelites prepare to enter the Promised Land the Torah identifies its borders with specific landmarks and roads on the northern, southern, and eastern fronts, with the Mediterranean Sea as the western border.

If the Jews were poised to conquer the land, why was it necessary for the Torah to limit its borders? Why not wait until the war ended and determine the homeland based on its outcome?

If Eretz Yisrael (the Land of Israel) is simply a homeland for our nation, conquest could be a reasonable way to mark its borders. However, G-d promised this land to the descendants of Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov because it is the “Holy Land,” and holiness is defined by the Torah, not through battle.

Before the Jews entered Israel, no area on earth was inherently holy. Even when they constructed the Mishkan (the mobile sanctuary) in the desert - with the chamber called the Holy of Holies which housed the Holy Ark, the manifestation of the Divine presence in this world - the ground on which it stood remained a regular piece of land once they moved away from it. When they settled into Israel, it became holy ground forever, where the ground itself is associated with numerous mitzvot. Although sometimes control of more territory is necessary for security purposes, the inherent holiness of the ground remains limited to the borders delineated in the Torah.

Israel’s holiness is not only expressed in the Mitzvot done with the produce of the earth within its borders, the space itself contains a certain sanctity conducive to Divine service and spiritual growth. That’s why Jews throughout the ages yearned to immigrate there in order to advance their spiritual journeys.

In the mid-1800s a pious student of the third Lubavticher Rebbe requested his blessing for a successful move to Eretz Yisrael. The Rebbe replied, “Why must you go there for spiritual growth? Make Eretz Yisrael here!”

Those four words express everything we need to know about our identity as Jews and our connection with the Holy Land. As G-d’s ambassadors to the world we have the mandate to permeate every person we encounter, every thing we do, and every space we are in with divine awareness and purpose. While the Jewish legal ramifications of Israel’s holiness are limited to its biblical borders, its metaphoric message transcends all limitations of time and space. We all can and should make our immediate environment a holy space as well.

So as the eyes of the world are upon Israel (as always) let us remember it is our homeland because it is the Holy Land. And through nurturing and developing the holiness of our immediate surroundings, by learning more Torah and doing more Mitzvot, we strengthen the sacredness of Israel and hasten the advent of the era of Moshiach when war will cease and peace and tranquility will reign for all.

Were you affected by the IT outage last weekend? On Friday, the cybersecurity giant CloudStrike pushed out a routine software update, and within hours millions of computer systems worldwide had crashed. Hospitals, banks, airlines, and government agencies stopped functioning.

Thankfully I did nothing fancy that weekend and the closest I got to the disruption was the fact that I had the remote possibility of taking a flight early that morning. Since I did not end up doing the trip I learned about the news from the comfort of my phone screen and could marvel at how one bug in a routine, minor software update closed businesses on all six continents for days and canceled over 5,000 flights in one day.

Since all software is developed by people and subject to the possibility of human error, even with vigilant oversight mistakes can go undetected. However, in the past, mistakes made in America rarely affected people in China, and certainly not so quickly. Last week’s fiasco illustrated how the world is so intrinsically connected that even the smallest routine action in one place can impact billions of people.

While many are rightfully sounding the alarm of the extreme danger this all poses for our future, I’d like to highlight the empowering lesson we can take away from all this and its connection to the three-week mourning period for the destruction of the Holy Temple we started observing on Tuesday. Close to two thousand years ago the Romans breached the walls of Jerusalem on the 17th of Tammuz (observed as a fast day this year on Tuesday, July 23) and three weeks later burned down the Holy Temple on Tisha B’Av (observed as a fast day this year on Tuesday, August 12-13). This began our exile, with all the horrors and persecutions that came along with it, and we hope and pray for the rebuilding of the Holy Temple which will usher in redemption, an era of world peace and tranquility.

Our sages taught that if you do not experience the rebuilding of the Holy Temple during your lifetime it is as if you witnessed its destruction. At first glance, this seems counterintuitive. The actual construction of the Holy Temple nowadays is impossible for multiple reasons, so how can you and I be held responsible for the destruction of the Holy Temple so long as it's not rebuilt?

Over eight hundred years ago Maimonides declared that everyone must view the world as a balanced scale between good and evil. By choosing to do one good deed, speak one good word, or even think one good thought, you can tip the scale and bring salvation to the entire world.

Just as light is more powerful than darkness, positivity is more potent than negativity. Last week the world witnessed how one mistake can have a cascading effect on so many millions of people. Surely this proves that one intentional positive action can have an even greater impact on all humanity.

That’s why the process of rebuilding the Holy Temple and the beginning of the blessed era of world peace through Moshiach depends on you and me because we don’t know which good choice will complete the job. It could be one minute of Torah study, an encouraging compliment to a friend, an extra dollar given to charity, lighting Shabbat candles, or any other mitzvah. But when it happens, that one, routine and seemingly minor thing will dramatically change the world for the better, faster than CloudStrike’s single bug ruined so much last week. 

Let’s do this!

The UN strikes again. Today its highest court issued a ruling that Israel’s presence in certain areas of our biblical homeland is unlawful and should end as rapidly as possible. The news is barely worthy of an eye-roll and a yawn, not just because it matters very little, but because of how predictable it is.

I usually don’t comment on news exclusively worthy of being tomorrow’s fish wrap. Still, the timing of the latest expression of antisemitism from the world’s so-called justice system is perfect. This week we study the Parsha called Balak, and its narrative contains lessons that provide context for why Israel and the Jewish nation are always subjected to a double standard. Perhaps this can also help calm those who get nervous about such headlines.

After their forty-year sojourn in the desert, the Israelites approached the Promised Land. One of the neighboring nations called Moab was led by an amateur king named Balak. Although G-d had forbidden the Israelites from attacking Moab, the paranoid Balak was desperate to banish them from the area. Aware that his people were militarily inferior to the Israelites, he hired a gentile prophet named Bilaam to curse them instead.

What followed reads like a hilarious comedy show, if the stakes were not so high and the danger not so potent. G-d allowed Bilaam to accept the high-paying job on condition he would only speak what he was instructed to. Instead of cursing the Jews, Bilaam was forced to successively proclaim tremendous blessings for the Jews in full view of their mortal enemies. In fact, he is the first one to prophesy about the ultimate redemption through Moshiach.

On his first attempt to curse us, this is one of the blessings Bilaam blessed us. “It is a nation that will dwell alone, and will not be reckoned among the nations.”

There are many interpretations of this verse, but the most straightforward message here is that the Jews are different than everyone else. The nations will forever malign us, hate us, and subject us to a double standard. Descendants of cannibals will pompously accuse us of immorality while the world burns with rampant murder and theft. We are destined to stand alone on the world stage.

This may sound like a curse, but it is the greatest blessing because our survival through the ages depends on it. While historically every great nation disappeared on the ash heap of history, we are still around over 3,000 years later. Relentless persecution of every type has not destroyed us and dispersion has not weakened the common links we have to each other through our shared heritage. The laws of nature which governed the demise of every empire never applied to us.

Whereas all other nations were born through shared territory, we became a nation in the wilderness - a place we had no intention of settling - where we received the Torah with its eternal truths of morality and ethics. Our homeland became ours not through conquest but through a divine covenant and promise with our ancestors Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov. Before we arrived there as a nation it was ours, and after we were banished from it it remained ours.

We ought to embrace our solitude in the world, especially in connection with the Holy Land.

The good news is that just like today’s pathetic ruling was predicted over 3,000 years ago by the hedonistic Bilaam, he also foretold of a time when the purpose of creation would be realized with the arrival of Moshiach. A time when all hatred, persecution, and jealousy will end and we will dwell in peace among the nations. That time is at hand and we can hasten the advent of that blessed era through increasing in acts of goodness and kindness and encouraging everyone to do the same.

Thursday, July 18, the 12th day of Tammuz, marks 97 years to the redemption of the previous Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchok Schneerson from communist imprisonment. Arrested at midnight in the summer of 1927 the Soviets decreed he would face a firing squad for the heinous crime of sustaining organized Judaism in the Soviet Union with his thriving network of underground religious and educational institutions. Through a series of miracles, the execution did not happen and he was ultimately released less than a month after his arrest.

In his diary he recorded that as soon as he entered the dreaded Spalerka prison compound he resolved not to be frightened or intimidated by anyone there, and his demeanor throughout his imprisonment reflected that decision. Although fluent in Russian he responded to questions exclusively in Yiddish, demanded his Tefillin and holy books returned to him, refused to be photographed on Shabbat, and even rejected an earlier release date which entailed traveling on Shabbat.

The fact of the matter was that his life was in grave danger and the consequences of antagonizing his captors could have been devastating for his family, his thousands of followers, and all of Soviet Jewry. Why did he behave this way?

In this week’s parsha we learn that as the Israelites neared the Promised Land they encountered two powerful kings, Sichon and Og. Both ruled nations of seasoned warriors, entrenched in difficult terrain and fortified cities. The Canaanite nations paid them a heavy tax to protect their borders from the approaching Israelites.

First Sichon rallied his troops to battle and was defeated in a remarkable maneuver orchestrated by G-d. But as the Israelites prepared for war with Og, Moshe started to worry. Og was a very old man who had encountered our forefather Avraham. When his nephew Lot was captured in battle, Og alerted Avraham to the crisis, which enabled him to rescue Lot from captivity. Moshe was concerned that the spiritual merit of helping Avraham 400 years earlier might empower Og to be victorious.

Therefore G-d said to Moshe before the battle with Og  (21:34), “Do not fear him, for I have delivered him, his people, and his land into your hand.”

The language of Talmud’s description of Moshe’s anxiety about the upcoming battle with Og is specific. “Moshe thought in his heart, perhaps Og’s merit will shield him.” He did not share his concerns with anyone else, nor did his fears register on his facial expressions. He kept his doubts to himself, portraying complete confidence. Only G-d - who reads everyone's thoughts - reassured him not to fear.

Although the previous Rebbe was aware of his precarious situation, he knew that confidence was the correct response. He shared this with us so we can adopt this important lesson in our own lives. Even when the struggle against our bad inclinations or moral weaknesses seems hopeless and there are many reasons to doubt we will succeed, portraying confidence is crucial and is the conduit for G-d’s blessing of victory.

Even if you’re uninspired to do a Mitzvah, do it enthusiastically anyway, as if you are inspired. It’s not being dishonest. This is how you ultimately win. Whatever crisis you might experience internally or externally, think and act as if victory is assured and see G-d’s blessings flow through your efforts.

Ten years ago, in the summer of 2014, bestselling author Joseph Telushkin came to El Paso for an event at UTEP promoting his newest New York Times bestselling biography: Rebbe: The Life and Teachings of Menachem M. Schneerson, The Most Influential Rabbi in Modern History. Over 400 people attended the lecture and he spent the evening reflecting on how his life had been enriched in the five years he researched the Rebbe’s vast teachings and remarkable life.

Over dinner following the lecture, I shared with him my favorite passage from the book. In the chapter entitled “Leadership After Life” Telushkin noted that after the Rebbe’s passing, Chabad had grown - and continues to grow - exponentially, a phenomenon that defies all predictions. He concluded: The secret of Chabad’s growth since the Rebbe’s death is the secret of its growth during the Rebbe’s life: the Rebbe himself.

He appreciated that I noticed it.

I was eight years old when the Rebbe passed away in the summer of 1994. We traveled as a family to Brooklyn to participate in the enormous funeral. I vividly remember the mood. It was devastating. Later I learned the pundits at the time predicted the demise of the Chabad Lubavitch movement. The movement that emerged from the ashes of the Holocaust and Communist religious persecution and blossomed into an empire of global influence in every aspect of Jewish life will not survive in the absence of its dynamic leader, they said.

The exact opposite occurred. Two days later we returned home and my parents continued their work. In 1986 the Rebbe sent them to El Paso to establish a permanent Chabad presence, to strengthen Jewish awareness and engagement, and to share Judaism’s global message to everyone in town. As a child, I was keenly aware of the all-encompassing influence the Rebbe had in our lives – which only intensified over time.

I’m not unique. Thousands of children my age shared the same experience and thirty years later, the eight-year-olds of 1994 have joined the global Chabad network that has tripled in size since that fateful day and are proudly raising their children under the Rebbe’s influence. During this time Chabad families have moved to places previously unimagined and have transformed spiritual wastelands into thriving Jewish communities. When you ask them why they do it, the answer is the same, even though many were born after 1994: the Rebbe.

But the families living out in the boondocks are just an extreme example of a phenomenon playing out everywhere. Lives are changing and the world is becoming a better place every day because of the Rebbe’s influence.

This influence is not only due to the timelessness of the Rebbe’s lessons and guidance which continues to enlighten millions and enrich their lives. According to Jewish tradition even after the passing of our righteous leaders, their presence continues to be felt in the physical world just as during their lifetimes. And their presence can be accessed and felt through learning their teachings, visiting their holy resting place and joining their mission.

It was never a secret. The growth of Chabad is the inevitable result of the Rebbe’s continued presence in our world, guiding us toward the ultimate redemption through Moshiach.

As we observe the Rebbe’s thirtieth Yartzeit the Third of Tammuz (Thuesday, July 9) I encourage you to learn more about the Rebbe here. Please do an extra mitzvah, give more charity, and encourage others to do the same on this auspicious day. Learn the Rebbe’s teachings and connect to the timeless truths that continue to shape and galvanize our generation to prepare our world for the coming of Moshiach, when peace and tranquility will reign for all.

I was seven years old the last time I saw the Rebbe. It was in November of 1993.

From September 1992 through October 1993 the Rebbe participated in prayer services in the main synagogue at Chabad Headquarters (770) from a balcony, and my strongest memories of seeing the Rebbe are from that setting. Additionally, during this period, there were times that the Rebbe sat at the doorway of his room and people were able to walk by and be in his presence for a moment.

In the fall of 1993, I came to New York together with my father for the International Convention of Chabad Emissaries. By then the Rebbe had not been seen on the balcony for over two weeks due to his medical condition. As a child, I expected to see the Rebbe there - just as I had seen him for several weeks during the previous summer - but it did not happen.

On Sunday evening it was announced the Rebbe would sit at the doorway of his room to see the emissaries and their families as they walked by. My father hurried with me to 770 and we joined the line. After several minutes we were inside, walking in the hallway adjacent to the Rebbe’s room. I saw the Rebbe for a fleeting moment and it is my clearest memory of seeing him so close.

I had seen the Rebbe many times before and was privileged to receive dollars, wine, and even a Torah booklet from him. But this was different. This time the Rebbe gave me the most precious gift of being in his presence - so close - when it seemed impossible. But the Rebbe made it possible.

***

The Rebbe is renowned for many reasons. He taught Torah for thousands of hours - published in hundreds of volumes - responded to tens of thousands of letters on every imaginable issue and unleashed a revolution of Jewish awakening across the globe. But the amount of time he spent meeting people in person is of a different caliber than any leader I’m aware of in history.

For thirty years anyone could schedule a private audience with him until the overwhelming demand for such meetings made it impossible. Starting in 1986, the Rebbe stood every Sunday near his office and distributed dollars to be given to charity to anyone who wished to join the line. As the weekly lines grew, the Rebbe did dollar distributions even more frequently, sometimes gifting everyone a Torah book or booklet. When the Rebbe was 89 years old there were weeks he greeted people for dozens of hours. I always wondered why the Rebbe invested so much of his precious time and energy into greeting individuals in such an unprecedented manner.

In the book of Numbers, we learn that toward the beginning of the second year when the Israelites were in the desert, G-d commanded Moses and Aaron to count them. Nachmanadies (Bamidbar 1:45) explains the final tally was not the only goal of this census. The process of counting itself served an important purpose. Every individual Jew stood in the presence of the great and holy prophets Moses and Aaron; they saw his face and heard his name. The personal encounter with these divine agents was a source of blessing and spiritual empowerment for the individual.

With tremendous physical strain, the Rebbe made himself available to everyone who sought to be in his presence, to meet the individual eye to eye because he understood the tremendous potential these meetings could unleash. And the thousands of stories and testimonies attest to the fact that they did.

Even after the passing of the divinely righteous, their impact continues in the physical world just as during their lifetimes. One of the ways to connect to their spiritual energy is by visiting their graves. In Parshat Shlach we learn that Caleb was one of two heroes who bucked the trend and pushed back against the deceptive lies the spies spread about the Promised Land. His courage came from his visit to the graves of our holy patriarchs in Hebron while scouting the land. 

Today, thirty years after the Rebbe’s passing these individual meetings continue to happen at the Ohel, the Rebbe’s holy resting place in Queens, New York. Thousands visit there weekly, and many continue to experience the Rebbe’s love, attention, and even guidance to their most pressing questions. Most importantly they are empowered to grow in their personal lives, to make the world a better place in ways they previously felt unimaginable. I’ve heard scores of stories first-hand and hundreds abound. You can read a sampling of these stories here.

Although one can always write letters and petitions for blessing to the Rebbe at the Ohel via email here (your confidentiality is assured) I encourage you to travel to New York and visit the Ohel. Just as the Rebbe insisted on being accessible to every individual up close, we can be in the Rebbe’s presence today at the Ohel, at all times of the day and night.

Earlier this week I studied with a friend a foundational text from Maimonides that I think every Jew should read. It is the introduction to Mishne Torah, the fourteen-volume tome that cemented Maimonides’ legacy as one of the most influential Jewish leaders of all time. In the introduction, he lays out the unbroken chain of Torah tradition from Moses until the authors of the Talmud, forty generations and approximately 1700 years later.

From the beginning, the Torah and its accompanying tradition were taught publicly, studied, and preserved by thousands of scholars. But in every generation, one leader or a pair or cluster of leaders were considered the essential links in that tradition. Although the approximately seventy sages named in this introduction are well known from the vast Bible, Talmudic and Midrashic literature, Maimonides records almost no personal details about these sages, aside from one glaring exception. Shmaya and Avtalyon, the teachers and mentors of the famous Hillel are identified as converts and Rabbi Akiva, who is credited with salvaging Torah tradition during one of the most devastating periods of Jewish history is called “the son of converts” as well as two others. Why is this personal tidbit relevant to the chain of Torah tradition, when much more remarkable details of many other sages were omitted?

As Maimonides articulates the transparent legitimacy of Torah tradition, dating back to Moses at Mount Sinai, he also emphasizes the democratization of Torah scholarship. When it comes to the Torah, pedigree and privilege are non-starters. The only thing that counts is devotion and hard work. Even a convert who has no background in Judaism, or the son of converts who had no opportunity to study until he was forty years old, can become the Torah’s most consequential standard bearers.

When I say “democratization” I mean the idea that Torah is accessible to everyone. It’s certainly not a free-for-all and we can’t make stuff up in Torah. But the ancestors’ scholarship is no guarantee for their descendants’ academic success, and the lack of pedigree is no deterrent to Torah greatness.

In the laws of Torah study Maimonides states: Three crowns were conferred upon Israel: the crown of Torah, the crown of priesthood, and the crown of royalty. Aaron merited the crown of priesthood. (One must be Aaron’s descendant to be a priest.)… David merited the crown of royalty. (Jewish kings are typically from Davidic lineage.) … The crown of Torah is set aside, waiting, and ready for each Jew… Whoever desires may come and take it.

This is one of the reasons the Torah was given to the Jewish people in a desert. Just as no one can claim ownership of the vast wilderness, no family, tribe or clan can claim ownership of Torah. With humility, dedication, and hard work, everyone can succeed in Torah study and contribute to its preservation for eternity, not by shaping Torah in our own image, but by shaping ourselves in the image of Torah. By allowing Torah to dictate our worldview, to guide our choices and most importantly to shape how we live our lives day in and day out.

Last week Chabad’s Gan Israel summer camp started and during the five-week program, close to 40 children will be treated to a first-class experience of fun and entertainment permeated with Jewish pride, spirit, and learning. I am privileged to spend some time with the campers discussing the upcoming holiday of Shavuot.

A few days ago a bowl of goldfish was on their table so instead of sharing my planned spiel, I asked them if they could find a connection between fish and Shavuot. After hearing their creative answers I shared the following story about Rabbi Akiva.

Approximately 1900 years ago the evil Roman empire which ruled over the Land of Israel sought to destroy every vestige of Judaism by prohibiting the public teaching of Torah on penalty of death.  At the time there were no printed books or even manuscripts of Torah scholarship and the only way Jewish scholarship thrived was through public lectures by the sages. Unfazed by the decree and passionate about passing on the Torah tradition to the next generation, Rabbi Akiva continued lecturing publicly to thousands of students.

Shortly after October 7th I published an article in the El Paso Times describing the impact the savage massacre in Israel had on the local Jewish community and how everyone can respond to it. Reflecting on the fact that it occurred during the holiday of Simchat Torah when Jews around the world started reading the Torah from the beginning, I pointed out that the first entry of the eleventh-century classic Bible commentator Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki (Rashi) provides context to the conflict.

 The Bible begins with the story of creation because the day would come when people would accuse the Jewish nation of stealing the Holy Land from others, Rashi wrote. Therefore, the Bible sets down the premise that G-d is the creator and master of the world. He alone chose to gift the Holy Land to the Jewish nation, and there is no need to apologize for being there.

 A few days later I received an email from a reader with a simple question: How can a Jewish kingdom in Israel thousands of years ago justify a Jewish presence there today? I appreciated the question because it clarifies two fundamental and interconnected points of the Israel debate. Firstly, all criticism of Israel boils down to one simple attack: Why are Jews living in that swath of land in the first place? Go live somewhere else!

Secondly, this question illustrated how the only foolproof defense for a Jewish presence in  Israel today is that G-d promised it to the Jewish nation as an everlasting inheritance, an integral part of His covenant with each one of our three forefathers Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Every other argument about history, archeology, international law, or the savagery of our enemies, is ultimately flawed.

A close reading of this week’s parsha reveals how this divine inheritance has no expiration date and continues to be relevant even when there is no autonomous Jewish presence in the land.

Following G-d’s promise that devotion to Torah study and Mitzvah observance will elicit tremendous blessings of success, wealth, health and peace in Israel, the Torah continues with the flipside. If the Jews failed to uphold their end of the deal there would be tremendous pain and suffering, culminating in their expulsion from their Promised Land. “Your land will be desolate, and your cities will be laid waste.” Notice, even after the Jews are exiled from the land making it desolate, G-d calls it “your land.”  Even when we are physically distant, the land remains ours forever.

Beyond the biblical language, our unnatural obsession with the land we lost close to two millennia ago shows that it’s part of our identity as Jews, no matter where we are. The liturgy of our daily prayers, the grace after meals and the design of our synagogues all emphasize our unbreakable bond with Israel. Yom Kippur services and the Passover Seder, the most heavily attended Jewish events of all time, both conclude with the declaration and prayer “Next Year in Jerusalem!” 

Public discourse about Israel is predictable. Detractors hurl nonsense arguments to vilify its very existence and defenders work feverishly to fact-check and counterargue within the parameters of these outlandish accusations. Over 900 years ago Rashi recommended that the best way to legitimize our presence in Israel, especially to ourselves, is by saying the truth: G-d gave it to us forever. Everything else is a distraction. Even if the critics do not share this belief, they will be forced to respect our conviction in our beliefs.

May we very soon merit the realization of G-d’s promise in this week’s parsha “I will grant peace in the Land,” and may this lead to the arrival of Moshiach when peace and tranquility will reign for all.

As a preteen, I was in a workshop at school where a volunteer stood on the edge of the table wearing a blindfold and the rest of us lined up next to the table ready to catch him to see whether the blindfolded volunteer was ready to free-fall off the table into our hands. The workshop leader explained that trusting friends, family or teammates is more than having faith in their ability to pull through for you. It means having the highest confidence in their dedication and loyalty to you that you would be willing to free-fall, even without seeing them, knowing they will catch you. 

There is a profound difference between faith in G-d and trust in G-d. Faith is a set of beliefs that can be nurtured in any person with the right education and guidance. Trust is something every individual needs to work on. Can you act upon the truths you believe even when reality seems to contradict them? This week’s parsha gives the perfect example of this.

The parsha opens with laws about agriculture in the Land of Israel. After six years of plowing, planting and harvesting, the seventh year was a national sabbatical and no fieldwork was allowed. This mitzvah is called Shemitta.

You don’t need to be an economist to realize what this means. In a society where almost one hundred percent of the industry is agriculture and import was not a thing, a full year of no fieldwork meant that the entire region would run out of food which is bad news.

The faithful Jew is now in a theological bind. On the one hand, G-d is the omnipotent and eternal Master of the universe and the Torah represents G-d’s will and wisdom. On the other hand, forcing an entire nation to lay down their plows and sickles for a year means they won’t have any food, and people must eat. What gives?

Amazingly, the Torah seems to imply that any rational human being is expected to ask this question. “And if you should say, "What will we eat in the seventh year? We will not sow, and we will not gather in our produce!"

G-d does not chastise the questioner for not having sufficient faith. Instead, the Torah continues: “Know then, that I will command My blessing for you in the sixth year, and it will yield produce for three years. And you will sow in the eighth year, while still eating from the old crops until the ninth year; until the arrival of its crop, you will eat the old crop.”

Simply put, G-d is saying “Trust me!” Even though the mitzvah of Shemittah seems like the entire economy will go into free fall with no hope in sight - G-d has it figured out. If you follow these rules properly, and express your trust in G-d, the crops preceding Shemitta will sustain you for many years and you will be just fine.

A friend opened a small business several years ago and took G-d as a partner by committing to giving one-tenth of his earnings to Tzedaka as obligated according to the Torah. He confided to me that he once needed to send off his ten percent to charity, but realized that if he pressed “send” on that check, his business bank account would be empty. After an agonizing few minutes he decided to send the money anyway, and G-d would need to take care of the rest. Sure enough, by the end of the week, he landed new clients completely unexpectedly and his account has never been empty since. That’s called trust in G-d.

It’s not easy, but nurturing our trust in G-d is the best way to ensure a life of success and serenity.