Rabbis' Blog

A man approached the rabbi with a deal. “I'll give you $10,000 and you make me a Kohen.”

The rabbi rejected. “I’m sorry, sir. But I do not have the power to do so.”

“I'll give you $25,000… $50,000… rabbi, please! The price is not important. I must become a Kohen!”

“Why are you so desperate to be a Kohen?”

“My father was a Kohen and his father was a Kohen...”

It’s a funny joke because we all know that being a Kohen is not a promotion one can achieve through paying any money in the world or by being the most pious Jew of all time. It is a matter of fate. If your father was a Kohen then you are a Kohen.

There are three classes in Judaism, and they all depend on family. When the Jewish people became a nation at Mt. Sinai they consisted of twelve tribes and the tribe of Levi was selected to be the representatives in all matters of religious ceremonial life to serve as teachers and mentors for their brethren.

Aaron, Moshe’s brother, a member of the Levite tribe was selected to be the first Kohen Gadol (High Priest) and his descendants were ordained Kohanim (priests) to perform the various services in the Holy Temple.

While the rest of the tribes, collectively known as Israelites, received portions in the Promised Land of Israel, with every member receiving personal property for farming, the Levites and Kohanim were not included in this inheritance. They were given 48 cities to live in, but no farmland to feed themselves. They were sustained divinely ordered compulsory taxes paid by every Jew to the Levites and Kohanim on a regular basis.

The Torah in this week’s parsha clarifies why they were excluded from the inheritance. “The entire tribe of Levi, shall have no portion or inheritance with Israel… the L-rd is his inheritance.” (Deuteronomy 18:1,2)

Instead of losing out they were granted the golden opportunity to devote themselves entirely to G-d’s service without a worry in the world. Never distracted by the need to work the fields or keep track of the harvest times and the rain seasons. Their needs were provided for by divine command and they were always prepared to serve.

So aside for their religious duties, the Levites were unique among the people by dint of their G-d given gift to be dedicated to divine service all the time. Seemingly this gift is determined by fate.

Maimonides maintains it is not so. “Not only the tribe of Levi, but anyone whose spirit generously motivates him and he understands with his wisdom to set himself aside and stand before G-d to serve Him and minister to Him and to know G-d… he is sanctified as holy of holies. G-d will be His portion and heritage forever and will provide what is sufficient for him in this world like He provides for the priests and the Levites.”

Everyone can be a Kohen. Not to observe the religious duties Kohanim are obligated in, but to be selflessly dedicated to G-d is a level we should all try to reach. And if you can’t do it 24/7 then five minutes a day is also valuable. Set aside time every day to be a Kohen. Unplug from the world and learn some Torah without distraction.

The more you try it, the more you’ll like it and the more you’ll do it.

Historically, these next four weeks were a tense and frightening time in Jewish tradition.

Gearing up for Rosh Hashanah - the day of judgement - the Jewish calendar features the month called Elul, designated as the time for self introspection and correction. We still have a chance to wipe the slate clean by identifying our faults and repenting for past improprieties. Sounds frightening and intense.

A little over two centuries ago the Alter Rebbe, the founder of Chabad radically changed our perception of Elul and transformed it into a time of passionate joy. Here is what he explained.

Jewish mysticism teaches that Shabbat is different than the rest of the week because there is a great revelation of divine clarity in our world from sunset on Friday to nightfall on Saturday. Therefore, we must unplug from our mundane reality and focus on our relationship with G-d in a formal way. We are prohibited from certain labors and spend the day steeped in spirituality.

The same is true about the festivals and since Yom Kippur is the apex of divine revelation in our world, it is considered the most solemn of days when we must disconnect even from our most basic physical needs throughout the day.

These same sources of Jewish mysticism teach that the divine energy manifest in the world on Yom Kippur is also present throughout the entire month of Elul. This begs the obvious question - why do we not behave as we do on Yom Kippur throughout the entire month of Elul?

Kings and Queens are mostly a relic of the past, but to this day much of humanity is fascinated by royalty and royal life, so let’s employ the analogy of a king and his subjects.

When the king is in his palace he is virtually unapproachable. Even the select few granted an audience must follow royal protocols and dress codes, have limited time and the experience is largely choreographed. Even if their wishes are granted with much pomp and ceremony the encounter is highly formal, certainly memorable but rarely pleasurable.

At times the king wishes to fraternize with his subjects in the fields. He wears plainclothes, available to all and, most importantly, he is in a splendid and happy mood, putting everyone at ease. Although extremely informal, he is still the king and grants his subjects all of their wishes, sans the pomp and ceremony.

With this in mind, the Alter Rebbe explains that on Yom Kippur G-d is in “the palace.” We are expected to follow a strict protocol and meet G-d in the synagogue in a state of detachment from materialism.

But during Elul G-d is in “the fields.” Accessible by everyone, even while steeped in materialism and the humdrum of daily life. All we need to do is make the effort to approach G-d by learning more Torah and observing another mitzvah, and He will surely grant us a good and sweet new year. There is still intense work to be done, but it’s no longer foreign and formal.

Sounds like a happy time to me.

I had seen photos of it and heard the story of devotion, sacrifice and bravery behind it, but had never seen it.

Last month I visited the exhibition of the Lubavitch Library in Brooklyn, home to hundreds of thousands of rare books, manuscripts and artifacts belonging to the glorious dynasties of Chassidic Rebbes dating back to the Baal Shem Tov.

The display that caught my attention most was a book of Zohar that had belonged to the Rebbe’s father, Rav Levi Yitzchok Schneerson, the legendary chief rabbi of Dnepropetrovsk, Ukraine. This is no ordinary Zohar, since the margins of its pages are filled with his novel interpretations and explanations of the ancient text, in tiny handwriting of red, blue, green and black.

Rav Levi Yitzchok served as the spiritual leader of Russian Jewry long after all other rabbis had either been exiled or murdered by the Communist regime. After the Previous Lubavitcher Rebbe was banished from the Soviet Union in 1927, Rav Levi Yitzchok was the only remaining rabbi of stature to openly fight against the Communist anti-Jewish oppression, ensuring that Jewish observance and education continue to thrive behind the Iron Curtain.

Days before Pesach 1939 he was arrested on false accusations of high treason and sentenced to five years in the remote region of Chi’ili, Kazakhstan - far removed from any semblance of Jewish life or community. For a scholar and leader of his caliber, the isolation from fellow Jews was certainly the most acute and painful aspect of the harrowing experience.

His wife, Rebbetzin Chana Schneerson voluntarily joined him and the most important things she brought from home were several Torah books for him to study. Seeing his delight and pleasure with these treasures she understood that he wished to write down the many novel ideas he developed while studying as he was accustomed to doing back home.

She learned to produce ink from wild berries and Rav Levi Yitzchok diligently wrote until the margins of all the books were filled with his brilliance - in short hand and in multiple colors - published decades later in a five-volume set as his eternal legacy.

He never returned home from exile and a few months after his release, Rav Levi Yitzchok passed away in Alma Ata, Kazakhstan on the 20th day of Av and was buried in a tiny Jewish section of a large cemetery - emblematic of the ultimate spiritual and physical sacrifice he endured for Judaism.

When I saw the pages of the Zohar filled with his colorful writing on display at the exhibition, it dawned on me how this illustrates the ultimate Jewish strength. Even while enduring unbearable suffering and pain, one can continue to be a shining light of devotion, wisdom and leadership for generations to come.

This Wednesday will be the 75th Yahrzeit of Rav Levi Yitzchok. I encourage you to learn more about him, his teachings and his legacy and to be inspired by his message of unwavering faith and devotion under all circumstances.

Often we get frustrated when presented with new challenges. 

“What did I do wrong? Why do I deserve this problem?”

It’s been some months since the bulldozers arrived at the construction site of the future Chabad Lubavitch Center for Jewish Life and today we reached the milestone of welcoming the cement trucks. Early this morning our dedicated construction team starting pouring cement for the concrete footings of the sanctuary, social hall and kitchen walls.

How appropriate that the foundation of our future Chabad House is completed this week, since the parsha of Pinchas contains a special lesson reflected in the now drying cement.

A question was once posed in the Study Hall of the Mishnaic sages: What is the most important verse in the entire Torah?

As could be expected, “Shema Yisrael” the foundation of Jewish faith was proposed as well as “Ve’ahavta Lereiacha Kamocha - Love your fellow as yourself” was an obvious candidate.

But then Rabbi Shimon ben Pazi proclaimed that the most important verse in the Torah is the one which communicates our obligation to offer two communal sacrifices every day in the Holy Temple, known in Hebrew as the Korban Tamid. “The first sheep shall be offered in the morning and the second sheep shall be offered in the evening.” (Numbers 28:4)

The assembled scholars and students were so taken by this proposition that they unanimously agreed the seemingly simple verse about the daily sacrifices surpasses the foundation of our faith and the cardinal rule of Jewish living in prominence.

Why?

There is only one mitzvah incumbent upon every Jew to fulfill every single day: The two daily sacrifices offered in the Holy Temple. Obviously this mitzvah is only practical at a time when there is a Holy Temple in Jerusalem and every Jew observed the mitzvah by proxy, through donating a half shekel every year to the Temple coffers. 

No other Mitzvah must happen every day; rain or shine, weekday, Shabbat and Holiday. It is the epitome of Jewish consistency - and that’s what Judaism depends on. Not every day does one succeed in fully relating with the deep philosophical meditation of “Shema Yisrael” nor manage to properly act upon the all encompassing brotherly love it leads to. But when Jewish action happens consistently, regardless of personal mood or current social trends, it provides the concrete foundation we need to keep Judaism alive forever.

A Chabad House is a place for every Jew, every day and every occasion. How apropos that its foundations were laid during the week that we learn of the most important verse in the Torah extolling consistency.

Please partner with us in building the future of Jewish life in El Paso and let’s commit ourselves to doing another mitzvah more consistently, cementing Judaism into every day of our lives.

Have you ever followed a discussion between two antisemites? Or a Twitter thread filled with Jew hating dribble? If it weren't so dangerous it would be funny.

Those clowns engage in foolish banter, entertain ridiculous conspiracy theories and drone on and on about sheer lunacy.

But this phenomenon isn’t new. This week's parsha is dedicated to the adventures of two paranoid anti semites who tried to wipe out the entire Jewish nation three thousand years ago.

Here are their profiles.

Balak, the cowardly king of Moav hated the Jews with a blind passion. Even though the Israelites were expressly forbidden from occupying his land, their mere presence in the region drove him crazy.

Bilaam, the gentile prophet was a money hungry, egotistical hedonist. Notwithstanding his divine powers, he was unable to make the case for morality and justice within his circle of influence and resorted to being a divine mercenary for kings and warriors. For the right price he would curse your enemies - and his results were impressive every time. His antisemitism suited him quite well.

Balak knew that facing the Jews in battle was suicidal so he hired Bilaam to do the dirty work. He was delighted with the offer, but was keenly aware that cursing the Chosen Nation was futile. But he tried anyway - because he was an antisemite.

If Bilaam's power of the word were not so potent, the story would read like a comedy. Bilaam gets owned by his donkey, and the pair try the same stupidity thrice. But Bilaam was really dangerous and only G-d's specific intervention averted the worst.

Not only did Bilaam end up blessing the Jewish nation, he became the first to clearly articulate the coming of Moshiach in the future. The advent of an era when no nation will lift a sword against another nation, peace and tranquility will reign for all and G-dliness will be revealed throughout the world.

There is an important lesson here about the craziness we encounter ever increasingly in the world today. People are engaging in the most vile and illogical ideas, sometimes with tragic results. It makes you wonder where our world is headed.

But specifically from the most unbelievable darkness springs forth the greatest light. By responding to illogical hatred with illogical love, we access unlimited wellsprings of goodness.

I am not suggesting we ignore the hatred around us, but we must not let it drag us down. It is a sign of great goodness to come and we can prepare for it by doing more mitzvot and creating more goodness and kindness around us.

It was during the High Holiday season of 2005 when I had a lengthy conversation with my grandfather, Rabbi Moshe Greenberg, of blessed memory.

Since we lived thousands of miles apart and as a youngster I was not proficient in neither Hebrew or Yiddish, there was a significant communication barrier between us. But that afternoon in Brooklyn, when I was nineteen years old I asked him questions about the past. 

At age nineteen, orphaned from both parents, he was sentenced to twenty five years of harsh labor in Siberia for the treasonous crime of escaping the Soviet Union to live the openly Jewish lifestyle he craved.

“Witnesses can attest to the fact  that I never violated Shabbat, ate non-kosher meat or ate chametz (leaven) on Pesach,” he said.

This was not the norm. Jewish law stipulates that one must do anything to survive, aside for idolatry, murder or adultery, and every competent Rabbi would rule that my grandfather was obligated to eat whatever he had access to and to work on Shabbat rather than be in solitary confinement for five days each week. (This happened for two years straight!)

“Why did you risk your life to keep Shabbat and Kashrut under such impossible circumstances?” I asked him. “You weren’t obligated to do so.”

He smiled and after several minutes he shared with me a thought I am still trying to digest fourteen years later.

Twenty five years in Siberia was a veritable death sentence. He knew that he would never make it out alive. “Why should I violate Shabbat? Why should I eat non-kosher meat?”

Think about that. An orphaned teenager, condemned to a slow and painful death by a tyrannical government did not forget for a moment that G-d was with him even in the gulags and risked everything in order to connect with G-d through Shabbat and Kashrut.

The opening statement of this week’s parsha Chukat reads “This is the Chukah (statute) of the Torah.” Referring to the laws of ritual purity and impurity, the Torah clarifies that they transcend logic and must be accepted unquestioningly. That’s the way it is.

In a broader sense, this attitude of unquestioning acceptance is relevant in all areas of Jewish life, since the foundation of healthy Jewish living is unwavering loyalty to G-d and His commandments, because that’s the way it is.

Thankfully my grandfather’s sentence was commuted seven years later when Stalin died, and he went on to live a life rich with meaning and fulfillment. He was an inspiration to so many and he merited to have a large family across the globe who are the Rebbe’s emissaries for life. 

But for me it is most significant that his yartzeit (anniversary of passing) will be observed this Shabbat as we read parshat Chukat. He was the paragon of unwavering loyalty to G-d and ironclad commitment to living Jewishly at all costs, even when it made no sense, because that’s the way it is.

I hope to emulate his example more often.

Everyone seeks positivity. Even the most bitter, self absorbed narcissist prefers smiling over scowling and complimenting over scolding. The trouble is learning how.

Lately I’ve been reading observations about the Rebbe by diverse personalities. As this Shabbat marks 25 years since the Rebbe’s passing on the third of Tammuz 1994, academics, journalists, rabbis and laymen in the global Jewish community feel compelled to pay tribute in various ways.

Most intriguing for me, though certainly not surprising, is the fact that many of them reflect on a personal connection they feel with the Rebbe, although most never met him in person.

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks attributes every major decision of his adult life to the Rebbe; Yossi Klein Halevi carries around a dollar bill he received from the Rebbe through a friend; Liel Leibovitz has a photo of the Rebbe in her wallet. All three started viewing themselves and others differently after forging this connection.

Their diversity illustrates that every type of Jew can benefit from the Rebbe’s empowering teachings in a practical and personal way, with an emphasis on seeing the good in everything and everyone and identifying positive opportunity everywhere.

To the Rebbe this was not merely a slogan. For over forty years he educated all that would listen a deeply sophisticated intellectual Torah framework through which we can, not only believe in the potential good possessed by all but actually understand it and reveal it.

Here is an example of a radical twist in historical perception that I learned from the Rebbe in this week's parsha. 

Korach instigated a misguided revolt against Moshe, claiming that Aharon's appointment to priesthood was nepotism. While he is  condemned in almost every area of Torah scholarship, the Rebbe finds a redemptive angle to Korach - based on traditional Torah sources we have been studying for millennia.

His desire to be a Kohen and be privy to the immersive divine experience of the Temple service  is something we should all strive for. Certainly not in practice (because priesthood is exclusively a patriarchal inheritance) but being entirely focused on G-d is an attitude we can and should develop in our daily life.

Although this seeming revision of Korach is radical on the surface, in the paradigm of the Rebbe's Torah framework it is the most rational conclusion. Korach's actions are never justified, but an inner reading of his argument inspires us to become better. 

The Rebbe does not create motivational catch phrases or self help programs for life struggles. He shows us how to learn Torah, understand its eternal truth and view reality from its lenses.

Through studying the Rebbe's teachings and emulating his ways we become connected today, 25 years after his physical presence has left our world.

But learning is key.

As we observe the Rebbe's yartzeit, I encourage you to taste the beauty and depth of the Rebbe's wisdom readily available in the vast online knowledge base in over a dozen languages. Do it regularly.

This will prepare ourselves and the entire world for the era of Moshiach when the inherent good in everything will be revealed.

In the pre internet world there was a die hard Jets fan who never missed watching a football game.  He was leaving town one week and asked a friend to tape the game for him so he could watch it upon his return and did not read the sports section for a full week so as not to ruin the excitement of watching the recorded game.

When he retrieved the VHS a week later his benefactor said "What a game! They were down by 21 points at halftime and made such a sweet comeback in the last five minutes!"

"Why did you spoil it for me?!" the fan exclaimed exasperated.

Nevertheless, as a devoted fan he dutifully sat down to watch the game from beginning to end. Halfway through the game he commented “When I know the outcome of the game is a good one, even watching my beloved team play so poorly doesn’t agitate me that much at all!”

In this week’s parsha we learn of the dramatic story of the spies sent by Moshe to scout the Land of Israel. Ten of the twelve spies returned with a dreadful report of giant fortresses and powerful warriors lying in wait and that any attempt to conquer the land would fail.

Sadly, the Jews expressed the greatest lack of faith in G-d who had delivered them from Egyptian slavery and sustained them in the harsh wilderness and started a full on revolt.

This was a fatal blow and every member of that generation was barred from entering Israel and condemned to death. G-d’s wrath was so great that all Moshe could do to mitigate the calamity was to negotiate terms in which 600,000 men would not die immediately, rather in a prolonged manner over the course of forty years. Only the next generation would inherit the Promised Land.

In the long term, this episode lives on in infamy as the tragic day of Tisha B’Av - the anniversary of almost every major Jewish tragedy.

It is striking that immediately following the story of the spies in the Torah we read this (Numbers 15:2): “Speak to the children of Israel and say to them: When you arrive in the Land of your dwelling place, which I am giving you…”

Immediately after recording the greatest communal failure in Jewish history, G-d reassures us that the future is bright and there are many happy days to come.

At times one can be confronted with a debilitating tragedy of his or her own making with staggering consequences. Remember that all is not lost and your personal “promised land” is just beyond the horizon. The same is true on the communal level as well.

I’m not suggesting we approach crisis lightly. But we must certainly cut away the angst and stress, because G-d spoiled the plot for us by sharing that as long as we follow the guidelines of the Torah, it will all turn out for the best, culminating in the realization of the greatest “Promised Land” - the era of Moshiach when peace and tranquility will reign for all.

One of the most enduring caricatures of “the Jew” is the image of a bearded hunchback, holding a sack over his shoulder and leaning on a wanderer’s stick. The exiled wandering Jew.

For many, the fact that our immediate ancestors hailed from faraway lands and made fascinating journeys to the shores of this country or another is a badge of honor and the stuff that great stories and family legends are made of.

Some suggest we are wanderers by nature since our ancestors wandered for forty years in the wilderness before reaching the Promised Land.

Absolutely false.

This week’s parsha provides a vivid description of how the Israelites travelled through the desert as a community of several million strong.

The epicenter of the Israelite camp was the Mishkan (Tabernacle) with all twelve tribes camped around it, three tribes in each direction. A divine cloud hovered over the Mishkan  at all times, and as long as it was there, the Israelites stayed put.

When the cloud lifted, the message was clear that it was time to move on to the next destination. Without knowing where they were headed everyone picked up and followed the cloud until it came to a standstill, indicating that they had reached their destination.

No mortal knew how long they would remain in any specific place nor where the next journey would take them. “They travelled according to G-d’s instruction (the moving cloud) and the camped according to G-d’s instruction (the halted cloud).”

Our ancestors never wandered; they travelled according to a divine plan.

The infancy of Judaism was characterized by the experience of travelling based on a transparently divine plan to teach us that we are forever following a divine GPS.

While you may think you moved to this city for a job opportunity, or chose that vacation spot for its breathtaking beauty or decided to attend a specific university because you won a full scholarship there - you’re wrong. You are in this very spot at this very moment because G-d has a specific mission that only you can accomplish right here and now.

You think your ancestors immigrated from Eastern Europe because they were persecuted and sought a better life across the Atlantic? That may be what they were thinking, but this week’s parsha enlightens us to the fact that they were brought to this blessed country for a divine purpose.

Although where we are is never up to us, what we actually accomplish there is entirely up to us. By utilizing every opportunity to learn more Torah, do more Mitzvot and inspire others to do the same, we live up to the expectations of the divine "master planner" and prepare all of humanity for the ultimate destination, the era of redemption when peace and tranquility will reign for all.

It was close to midnight on a hot summer night in 1927 in Leningrad.

The previous Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchok Schneerson was having dinner with his family after a long session of private meetings with individuals seeking spiritual counseling, life guidance and a listening ear, known in Chabad as “Yechidus.” A squad of soviet police led by two agents of the Yevsektzia (the notorious ‘Jewish section’ of the GPU (forerunner of the KGB)) barged into the apartment.

As the leader of the Chabad movement since 1920 he developed and coordinated a massive network of underground Jewish education and infrastructure in direct defiance of the communists’ wishes to destroy all organized religious life in the Soviet Union.

The ruthless Yevsektzia was desperate to bring Jewish life to an end, and one week after Shavuot of 1927 they conducted a thorough midnight search of his apartment to uncover incriminating evidence of “anti-revolutionary activities” and placed him under arrest. He was supposed to face a firing squad that night, but miraculously the worst was averted and due to immense international pressure and many miracles, within a month, on the 12th of Tammuz, he was a free man.

The saga of the previous Rebbe’s arrest and liberation is fascinating and I urge you to read more about it here, but I would like to focus on a short episode that occurred on that evening 92 years ago as described in his diary.

They began their search in the room of my daughters, Chaya Mussia and Sheine, and asked them: “What party do you belong to?”  “We belong to our father’s party,” they replied; “we are nonpartisan daughters of Israel. We are fond of the old ways of our Patriarch Israel, and detest the new aspirations.”

They displayed the type of pride every Jew ought to have. New trends and ideas do not intimidate us, no matter how much brute force or influence their adherents may wield. Torah is eternally true and does not bend to external forces.

The name of this week’s parsha “Naso” can be translated to mean “Lift up their heads.” The mandate for Moshe to inspire the Jewish people to be forever proud of the divine gift they received at Sinai and to march through history with heads held high.

This fierce pride is our badge of honor and the secret ingredient to our ability to survive under all circumstances, and it can only be nurtured through continuous Torah study and ever increasing Mitzvah observance.

While we are still under the influence of Shavuot and the commemoration of Sinai, find ways to nurture your Jewish pride and share it with family and friends so that we can all hold our heads higher and prouder until we fulfill our collective mission to make our world a divine dwelling, ushering in the era of redemption when peace and prosperity will reign for all. 

In anticipation for the Giving of the Torah G-d requested the Jewish people provide guarantors to ensure that the Torah remain relevant forever.

The Jews first suggested our three Patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Each one of these spiritual giants were worthy of such an honor and the combined merits of all three would surely convince G-d that the Jews mean business. Alas, this idea was not acceptable to G-d.

The prophets were next in line. In each generation, a righteous leader would inspire the people to strengthen their Torah study, mitzvah observance and participation. These constant reminders will ensure the Torah remains part and parcel of Jewish life. This offer was rejected as well.

Finally, the Jewish Nation nominated their children. They will be educated to live according to the Torah and to educate the subsequent generations as well. Jackpot! G-d accepted this offer and the dramatic events of Sinai proceeded to change reality forever.

Why does education serve as the catalyst for receiving the Torah?

Offering the Patriarchs as a first choice was indicative of the human tendency to rely on the virtue of lineage. We imagine that the memory of an illustrious line of worthy ancestors is sufficient to keep tradition alive. Such a strategy has proven faulty and rarely effective.

The second offer is problematic as well. There is a tendency to designate a select few individuals to be the spiritual conscience of the community. Relying on the wakeup calls of prophets is hardly a way to ensure the continuity of Torah life.

By designating their children as the guarantors of the Torah, the parents committed themselves to an uncompromising standard. Far more than simply training the youngsters in the academic depths of Torah study during school hours, educating a child is a constant endeavor.

Kids are inquisitive and genuine. Successfully educating them demands constant engagement, self-introspection and, primarily, action. The exemplary behavior of parents is the most crucial ingredient in raising proud, passionate and observant Jews.

While lineage and inspiration are certainly helpful, the all-encompassing task of serving as role models and teachers for the next generation is the secret to the eternity of Judaism. And so each year, G-d expects us to renew our commitment to ensure our children continue to fill the vital role of guarantors.