Parsha with Rabbi David Bibi

THE SALT OF SEDOM — Why We Wash Our Hands After Eating and What It Teaches Us About the Human Soul

Why do we wash our fingertips after eating? What does this seemingly simple practice, known as Mayim Aḥaronim, have to do with the destruction of Sedom thousands of years ago? And what hidden spiritual forces are at work every time we sit down to enjoy a meal? In this fascinating class, delivered Tuesday morning at the Edmond J. Safra Synagogue in Manhattan, we take a journey into the mystical world of Kabbalah. Drawing primarily from The Sefer, Sod HaParasha, we explore the mysterious salt of Sedom, why Lot’s wife became a pillar of salt, the extraordinary connection to Adam HaRishon’s sin in Gan Eden, and the teachings of the Arizal concerning physical pleasure, the spiritual accuser, and the hidden significance of washing our fingertips before Birkat HaMazon. Along the way, we discover how a few drops of water can carry an extraordinary message about the human soul. As part of our ongoing series “Simplifying the Sod,” we take complex Kabbalistic concepts and make them understandable, meaningful, and relevant to everyday life. We also share a remarkable personal story told by Rabbi Eli Mansour about his teacher, Ḥakham Baruch Ben Ḥaim, a pizza, some hot pepper, and an unforgettable lesson about the wisdom of our Ḥakhamim and the love of HaShem. Ultimately, this class reveals that the greatest spiritual challenge is not whether we enjoy the blessings HaShem gives us, but whether we recognize their Source, share them with others, and acknowledge our own imperfections. What destroyed Sedom was not its abundance, but its failure to understand what abundance was for. Join us for this thought-provoking exploration of Torah’s hidden wisdom—and discover why you may never look at Mayim Aḥaronim quite the same way again.

THE SOULS THAT REFUSED TO DIE Four Generations, One Redemption, and Avraham’s Prayer for David HaMelekh

What happens to a prayer that seems to go unanswered? When Avraham Avinu pleaded with HaShem to spare Sedom, his prayers appeared to have failed. The cities were destroyed, and their inhabitants were lost. But what if Avraham’s tefillah accomplished something far greater than he could have imagined? Drawing on the extraordinary teachings of Rabbi Pinḥas Friedman in Shvilei Pinchas, we uncover a remarkable connection between Sedom, the rescue of Lot, the birth of Moav, and the emergence of Ruth and David HaMelekh. How could the soul of Israel’s greatest king, the ancestor of Mashiaḥ, emerge from a place synonymous with cruelty and corruption? And how did Ruth, a daughter of Moav—a nation that inherited Sedom’s lack of kindness—become one of history’s greatest examples of ḥesed? In this fascinating Sunday morning Breakfast and a Class, we journey through four generations—Dor Enosh, the generation of the Flood, the Tower of Babel, and Sedom—whose souls, according to the teachings of the Arizal and the Megaleh Amukot, were given repeated opportunities for spiritual correction. We follow their journey into Egypt, the iron furnace, and discover why their tikkun remained unfinished even after the Exodus. Along the way, we share a remarkable teaching from my rabbi, Rabbi Asher Abittan, connecting the blindness of Sedom to the mysterious words of Datan and Aviram during Koraḥ’s rebellion. Ultimately, we confront a question that speaks directly to our own lives: If HaShem gave those souls opportunity after opportunity to repair their mistakes, what spiritual work have we inherited, and what is our responsibility to complete it? Join us for a journey through Torah, Kabbalah, prayer, redemption, and the extraordinary patience of HaShem—reminding us that no sincere prayer is wasted, no soul is beyond hope, and every generation has a role in bringing the world closer to its ultimate redemption.

THE EIGHTH DAY — WHY AVRAHAM WAITED 99 YEARS

It began with three seemingly simple questions from my friend Elliot. Why does the Torah command us to wait eight days before performing a Brit Milah? Why did Hashem wait until Avraham Avinu was 99 years old to command him, when Avraham had already spent decades serving Hashem? And why didn’t Noaḥ receive the covenant of circumcision, especially when the Midrash tells us that he was born circumcised? I was going to text Elliot a few short answers, but the more I thought about his questions, the more I realized they were deeply connected. Drawing on the fascinating exchange between Rabbi Akiva and the Roman governor Turnus Rufus, together with the teachings of the Maharal, Abarbanel, and the Gemara, we discover that Brit Milah is about far more than a physical act. It represents our responsibility to complete what Hashem began, to transcend the limitations of nature, and to recognize that spiritual growth is a lifelong journey. But the most intriguing question may be why Avraham waited at all. The Gemara teaches that Avraham observed the entire Torah centuries before it was given at Sinai. If so, why didn’t he perform Brit Milah on his own? The answer takes us to one of Judaism’s most profound principles: Gadol hametzuvveh ve’oseh — greater is the one who fulfills a commandment than one who acts voluntarily. There is a fundamental difference between serving Hashem according to our own understanding and submitting ourselves to His will. In this edition of Breakfast and a Class, we explore why Noaḥ could be born complete while Avraham was commanded to become complete, why the covenant had to precede Yitzḥak’s birth, and what Avraham’s extraordinary transformation at 99 teaches us about our own lives. Because no matter how old we are or how much we have accomplished, Hashem is never finished asking us to grow. And perhaps the greatest question we can ask is not, “What do I want to do for Hashem?” but rather, “What does Hashem want me to do?”

RACHEL IMEINU — THE MOTHER WHO WOULD NOT LET US FALL

What does it truly mean to be a mother? And what can Rachel Imeinu teach us about compassion, sacrifice, and the extraordinary power of a single act of kindness? In Thursday morning’s Breakfast & Class, we share a beautiful insight inspired by Chantelle, who had prepared a presentation for a challah bake honoring Rachel Imeinu’s yahrzeit on the eleventh of Cheshvan. She noticed that this is the forty-first day of the Jewish year, corresponding to the gematria of eim, mother. From there, we explore the hidden meaning of three Hebrew letters—mem, nun, and samech—and the remarkable verse in Ashrei: Somech Hashem lechol hanoflim, vezokef lechol hakefufim—Hashem supports those who fall and raises those who are bowed down. What is the difference between holding someone up and helping someone stand tall again? And why does that distinction capture the very essence of Rachel Imeinu? Through three powerful episodes in Rachel’s life, we discover a woman whose compassion changed the destiny of the Jewish people. We revisit the extraordinary moment when Rachel surrendered the secret signs to Leah, sacrificing her own happiness to spare her sister humiliation. We examine Rachel’s heartbreaking cry to Yaakov over her childlessness and the Midrash’s startling question: Is that how one answers someone in distress? Finally, we journey to the Heavenly Throne, where Rachel invokes her sacrifice on behalf of her children being led into exile, moving Hashem to promise their eventual return. Why was Rachel buried along the road rather than alongside the other patriarchs and matriarchs? And how could one quiet act of kindness become the merit that brings hope to an entire nation? Join us for a moving exploration of motherhood, empathy, and the enduring promise of Rachel Imeinu: First we hold someone up. Then we help them believe they can rise again.

WHEN DUST BECOMES GOLD The Extraordinary Power of Ein Od Milvado Lech Lecha

We have all heard the remarkable story of Naḥum Ish Gamzu, the great sage who was sent to the Roman emperor carrying a chest of precious jewels, only to discover that thieves had replaced the treasure with ordinary dirt. Facing the emperor’s fury and the threat of death, Naḥum responded with his famous words, Gam zu letovah — this too is for the good. Miraculously, the dirt became powerful weapons, saving Naḥum and bringing victory to the emperor. But why dirt? Of all the ways HaShem could have performed this miracle, why choose something so seemingly worthless? In Wednesday morning’s Breakfast & Class, we revisit this familiar Gemara through an extraordinary insight shared by Rabbi Yissocher Frand in the name of the Ostrovtzer Rebbe, revealing a profound connection to Avraham Avinu’s declaration, Ve’anokhi afar va’efer — “I am dust and ashes.” From Avraham’s miraculous victory over powerful armies to Rabbi Ḥanina’s fearless encounter with a sorceress, and the remarkable faith of the Brisker Rav while escaping Nazi Europe, we explore the extraordinary power of Ein od milvado — there is nothing besides HaShem. What does it really mean to recognize that our intelligence, strength, accomplishments, and even our next breath are gifts from Heaven? And how can we develop genuine faith when life takes unexpected and sometimes frightening turns? Perhaps the greatest lesson of Naḥum Ish Gamzu is that he declared Gam zu letovahbefore he knew how the story would end. Join us for an inspiring journey into humility, trust, and the limitless possibilities that emerge when we recognize the true Source of our strength. After all, if HaShem can transform a handful of dirt into something extraordinary, imagine what He can accomplish through us.

Avraham: The Man Who Stepped Beyond the Stars - Lech Lecha

What if someone could tell you your future—would knowing it help you live better today? A surprising encounter at a Laniado Hospital dinner, a family story from India in 1948, and an astrological recording made for my eighteenth birthday open this journey into the less familiar chapters of Avraham’s life. We revisit Teraḥ’s idol shop, Nimrod’s furnace, Haran’s fatal hesitation, and Avraham’s return to his father, discovering a family story far more complex than the one many of us remember from childhood. Drawing on Ramban, Or HaḤayim, the Shelah, Kedushat Levi, and Maharal, we explore the meaning of celestial influence, free choice, and Hashem’s promise of a future Avraham could not yet see. Why did the man of kindness go to war? How did Teraḥ’s life change? And what does it mean that Hashem raised Avraham above the stars? “Avraham: The Man Who Stepped Beyond the Stars” invites us to reconsider the limits we place on others and ourselves—and learn to live faithfully while the future remains unknown.

IT’S NOT EASY NOT KNOWING WHERE YOU’RE GOING! - LECH LECHA

“It’s not easy not knowing where you’re going!” Those were the unforgettable words of Rabbi Nosson Tzvi Finkel, the legendary Rosh Yeshiva of Mir, as he reflected upon HaShem’s command to Avraham Avinu: “Lech Lecha — Go forth from your land, your birthplace, and your father’s house, to the land that I will show you.” But why didn’t HaShem simply tell Avraham where he was going? Why ask him to leave everything familiar without revealing his destination? And isn’t that the story of our own lives? We make plans, set goals, and imagine what tomorrow will bring, yet none of us truly knows where life’s journey will lead. In Monday morning’s Breakfast and a Class, we explore the Or HaḤayim’s remarkable insights into Avraham’s three departures, the Midrash’s description of a nisayon betoch nisayon—a test within a test—and the extraordinary faith required to take the first step when the road ahead remains hidden. Along the way, we encounter two remarkable stories from the Gemara. Rabbi Yosef returns from a glimpse of the World to Come declaring, “Olam hafukh ra’iti — I saw an upside-down world!” His father responds, “Olam barur ra’ita — You saw a world of clarity.” And Rabbi Elazar ben Pedat, suffering in terrible poverty, asks HaShem why his life must be so difficult, only to discover how little we understand of the greater picture. Together, these stories reveal a profound lesson: Sometimes HaShem is not simply leading us to a different destination; He is teaching us to see life through different eyes. Avraham did not know where the road would lead, but he knew Who was leading him. Join us for a moving exploration of emunah, bitahon, the mysteries of Divine Providence, and the courage to keep walking even when we cannot see what lies ahead.

THE RAINBOW - WHEN HEAVEN PUT DOWN ITS BOW - Noah 5787

🌈 THE RAINBOW — WHEN HEAVEN PUT DOWN ITS BOW Parashat Noaḥ We see a rainbow and marvel at its beauty. But the Torah tells us that this magnificent display of colors is actually a reminder of the destruction of the world—and Hashem’s promise never again to bring a flood that destroys all humanity. Why did Hashem choose a rainbow, a bow traditionally associated with warfare, as His eternal symbol of peace? And why does the Gemara tell us that during the lifetime of Rabbi Shimon bar Yoḥai, no rainbow ever appeared? Could it be that the greatest blessings are not always the miracles we witness, but the disasters that never happen, the storms that never arrive, and the rainbows we never need? In this morning’s Breakfast & Class, we explore the Ramban’s beautiful explanation of the rainbow as a weapon turned away in peace, the extraordinary merit of Rabbi Shimon bar Yoḥai, and the mystical significance of the rainbow’s three principal colors, representing Avraham, Yitzḥak, and Yaakov. We discover why unity does not require uniformity, how different personalities and strengths can come together to create something magnificent, and why the greatest expression of righteousness may be the protection and blessing we bring into other people’s lives. Sometimes Hashem sends a rainbow into the clouds, and sometimes He sends a person into our lives. The challenge is to become that person for someone else.

THE LIGHT BEYOND THE LIGHT — THE SECRET OF SHABBAT CANDLES

THE LIGHT BEYOND THE LIGHT — THE SECRET OF SHABBAT CANDLES Why do we light two small Shabbat candles when our dining rooms are already brilliantly illuminated by chandeliers and electric lights? What are those little flames actually illuminating? In this morning’s Breakfast and a Class, we began with this simple question and discovered an extraordinary world hidden within one of our most familiar mitzvot. Drawing upon the Gemara, the Ben Ish Hai, the Zohar, and the teachings of the Arizal, we explored the deeper meaning of the two candles, Zachor and Shamor, the relationship between husband and wife, and the mysterious Sukkat Shalom—the canopy of Divine peace that descends upon the Jewish home as Shabbat begins. We also examined the fascinating Kabbalistic connection between the candles, the Divine Name Shaddai, and the transformation of judgment into mercy. But perhaps the most moving part of our journey came through the Shelah HaKadosh and the story of Hannah, whose heartfelt prayers brought Shemuel HaNavi into the world. Why does the Shelah connect Hannah’s prayer with the moment a mother lights her Shabbat candles? And how can two flames that burn for only a few hours continue illuminating a family for generations? Along the way, we also addressed a practical halachic question: What happens when we light candles and leave for Shabbat dinner elsewhere, returning only after the candles have burned out? Join us as we discover that the chandelier allows us to see everything in the room, but the Shabbat candles remind us of everything that truly matters in the room. Shabbat Shalom!

NOAḤ, YONAH, AND PHARAOH Three Lives, Two Storms, and One Extraordinary Second Chance

Three Lives, Two Storms, and One Extraordinary Second Chance Thursday Morning Breakfast & Class | October 15, 2026 What if the stories of Noaḥ and the Flood, Yonah HaNavi and the great fish, and Pharaoh, the king of Egypt, were not three separate stories at all? What if the same souls returned across generations, each given another opportunity to correct the mistakes of the past? In this morning’s fascinating Breakfast & Class, based on the teachings of Rabbi Pinḥas Friedman and the great mekubalim, we uncover extraordinary connections hidden within these familiar biblical narratives. Why was the righteous Noaḥ originally included in the decree of destruction? Why does the prophet Yeshayahu call the Flood “Mei Noaḥ”—the waters of Noaḥ? What is the connection between Noaḥ and Yonah, and why do the words of the ship’s captain, “Mah lecha nirdam?”—Why are you sleeping?—sound so familiar from our forty days of Selichot? Even the dove sent from the ark and the great fish that swallowed Yonah reveal remarkable secrets about the journey of the neshamah and the possibility of spiritual rebirth. But perhaps the most astonishing revelation concerns Pharaoh himself. According to a remarkable Midrash, the Pharaoh who refused to listen to Moshe Rabbenu was given another opportunity to repent as the king of Nineveh—and this time, he listened! How do these extraordinary journeys intersect, and what do they teach us about gilgul neshamot, tikkun, and Hashem’s infinite patience? From the twelve months Noaḥ spent caring for the animals in the ark, to Yonah’s three days inside the fish, to a once-arrogant king humbling himself in sackcloth and ashes, we discover a profound message of hope: Our mistakes need not become our final chapter. Hashem gives us opportunities to repair what we have damaged, to accomplish what we have neglected, and to become what we were meant to be. We may not remember what our neshamah came into this world to correct, but we can be certain that Hashem has given us today for a reason.

THE ARK - A BLUEPRINT FOR SAVING THE WORLD - Noah

Why Hashem Asked Noaḥ to Build an Ark Instead of Simply Saving Him When the world around Noaḥ was collapsing into corruption, violence, and moral chaos, Hashem did something extraordinary. He gave Noaḥ a construction project—complete with precise measurements, compartments, three levels, and a source of light. But why would the Creator of the universe, who could have saved Noaḥ with a single word, require him to spend years building an enormous wooden vessel? In this week’s Shabbat class, we explore the remarkable Midrashim and teachings of our Sages, the Zohar, and the Ba’al Shem Tov to discover that the Ark was far more than a means of survival. It was a blueprint for rebuilding a world through self-control, responsibility, kindness, and the extraordinary power of human speech. We discover how the Teivah becomes a symbol of the words we speak, how those words can create shalom, and how even in moments of tzarah—distress—we can find a tzohar, a source of light. But perhaps the most powerful lesson comes after the Flood, when Hashem commands Noaḥ to leave the very Ark that had protected him. Through the fascinating contrast between Noaḥ and Abraham, and the teachings of the Sefat Emet on Shabbat and the festivals, we discover that preserving our values is only the beginning. Ultimately, we must carry those values beyond the safety of our homes, synagogues, and communities and bring their light into the world. Join us for this 45-minute journey through Parashat Noaḥ, as we explore a message that speaks directly to the challenges of our own generation: Hashem did not ask Noaḥ to stop the rain. He asked him to build an Ark. And when the rain stopped, He asked him to leave that Ark and begin building a world.

The Ark We Build Before the Rain

The Ark We Build Before the Rain “I wanted to sit in the corner and let other people run the synagogue. Somehow, I was becoming my father.” In Monday morning’s Breakfast & Class, marking the second day of Rosh Hodesh Heshvan, we explore how the example we witness as children can become the responsibility we accept as adults. Through the Zera Shimshon’s explanation of why Noach’s children were saved, Rabbi Abittan’s memorable teaching about what children see at home, and personal recollections of a father devoted to his community, we consider the lasting influence of the lives we live. But example is only the beginning. Drawing on the Sefer HaHinukh and practical lessons heard from Rabbi Paysach Krohn, we discover how inviting children to participate—in giving, helping, and serving—can help shape their hearts. As the holidays give way to ordinary days, this class asks a question for parents, grandparents, and all of us: What are we teaching through our actions, and who are we inviting to work alongside us?

From the Holiness We Receive to the Holiness We Create Heshvan and Noah

FROM SEVEN TO EIGHT Rosh Hodesh Cheshvan — A New Beginning Sunday Morning’s Breakfast & Class We have just completed an extraordinary month of spiritual elevation. From the shofar of Rosh Hashanah to the forgiveness of Yom Kippur, the embrace of the Sukkah, and the joy of Simhat Torah, Tishrei surrounded us with opportunities to draw closer to Hashem. But now comes Cheshvan, a month without a single holiday. Is something missing, or is Hashem inviting us to discover something greater? In this morning’s special Rosh Hodesh Breakfast & Class, we explore the fascinating teachings of the Bnei Yissaschar, the mystical tziruf of Hashem’s Name associated with Cheshvan, and its remarkable connection to Yishak Avinu and the number eight. Seven represents the natural world Hashem has given us. Eight represents our ability—and responsibility—to elevate that world beyond what nature alone provides. Perhaps Cheshvan has no holidays because this is the month when Hashem asks us to create the holiness ourselves. This week’s Parashat Noach brings that message to life. The Flood began in Cheshvan, and a year later, Noach emerged from the Ark into a world waiting to be rebuilt. The parashah ultimately leads us to Avraham Avinu, who teaches humanity that our purpose is not merely to inhabit the world Hashem created, but to make it better. Along the way, we discover the beautiful connection between Cheshvan, the sweetness of honey, the eighth day of Berit Milah, and the commitments we made during the High Holidays. What happens to all those promises once ordinary life resumes? How do we transform Mar Cheshvan, the seemingly bitter month, into something sweet? The real measure of Tishrei is not how inspired we felt during the holidays, but what we build from that inspiration afterward. Join us for a journey from seven to eight, from Noach to Avraham, and from inspiration to lasting transformation.

Where is Your Brother - Bereshit

UNITY WITHOUT UNIFORMITY - man and wife BERESHIT

UNITY WITHOUT UNIFORMITY There is a question in this week’s parashah that belongs at every family’s Shabbat table. According to one teaching of our Sages, Adam and Ḥava were originally created joined together. Hashem then separated them into two individuals. But why? If He wanted them separate, why create them together? And if He wanted them together, why separate them? Let me share a little parable that can help us think about the answer. Imagine a couple who have been married for fifty years. Every morning, the husband prepares breakfast. He takes a fresh roll, cuts it, and places the soft middle portion on his wife’s plate. He keeps the crusty end for himself. For fifty years, that is their routine. On their anniversary, as he prepares breakfast, his wife says gently, “Can I ask you something?” “Of course.” “Today, would you mind giving me the crusty end?” He looks at her in surprise. “The crusty end? You want that?” “Yes,” she says. “It has always been my favorite part.” “Your favorite part? But the soft middle is the best part! I have been giving it to you all these years because I wanted you to have the best.” She smiles. “And I never said anything because I thought you loved the crust. I didn’t want to take away the part you enjoyed.” For fifty years, each had been trying to be kind. Each had been willing to sacrifice. But neither had asked the other a simple question: “Which part do you like?” That is the whole parable. But there is a great deal inside it. Sometimes we love people according to our own preferences. We give them what we would want. We comfort them with the words that would comfort us. We plan the evening that we would enjoy. Our intentions may be wonderful. But the person we love is a different person. One wants advice; another wants us to listen. One enjoys a surprise; another wants to know the plan. One needs company after a difficult day; another needs a few quiet minutes. We cannot discover those things by assuming. We have to ask, and then listen to the answer. Perhaps this helps us understand the creation of Adam and Ḥava. Their original unity teaches us connection. The other person matters to us. Their happiness, their pain, and their needs belong within our concern. Their separation teaches us that the other person has a life and a perspective of their own. The Torah calls Ḥava an ezer kenegdo—a helper corresponding to Adam, standing opposite him. Someone standing opposite us can see what we cannot see. They can bring something to our lives that we do not already possess. But that requires humility. We have to make room for an answer we did not expect—even something as simple as, “Actually, I like the crust.” Rabbi Abittan, alav hashalom, often taught us that the Torah trains us in self-control. That lesson belongs especially in our homes. Sometimes self-control means holding back a sharp reply. Sometimes it means allowing someone to finish speaking. And sometimes it means resisting the urge to say, “I know what you want,” long enough to ask what they actually want. Love needs generosity. It also needs attention. So here is a question to bring to the table tonight: When we try to make someone happy, how do we know what will make them happy? Let the children answer too. Ask them for an example of something they enjoy that another person in the family does not. We may learn something. And perhaps ask a second question: What is one small thing we could do this week that someone in our family would appreciate? Hashem gave Adam and Ḥava a shared beginning. He left them the work of building a shared life. We carry on that work through patience, kindness, and the willingness to discover the person beside us. Sometimes, after fifty years, that discovery begins with a piece of bread. Shabbat Shalom.

BEFORE THE FIRST MITZVAH — Why the Torah Begins with People - BERESHIT

BEFORE THE FIRST MITZVAH — Why the Torah Begins with People If the Torah is our book of mitzvot, why does it begin with stories? The first Rashi explains why we need the account of creation—but why not then jump straight to “Haḥodesh hazeh lakhem,” the first commandment given to the Jewish people as a nation? In Wednesday morning’s Breakfast & Class, we explore a beautiful question and insight shared by Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky in our conversation Tuesday night: perhaps understanding Who created the world is only the beginning. We also need to learn how to live in it. Through the lives of Avraham, Yitzḥak, and Yaakov, we discover why Bereshit is called Sefer HaYashar—the Book of the Upright. Avraham pleads for Sedom, Yitzḥak makes room for peace, and Yaakov works honestly for a dishonest employer. Their stories bring the lesson into our own homes, businesses, and relationships: devotion to Hashem must shape how we treat people, especially when honesty, compassion, and restraint are difficult.

WHO IS HOLDING THE STRING? Three Years After October 7 — Providence, Free Will, and the 50/50 World

In our Tuesday morning Safra Class, three years after October 7, we step back from the individual headlines and ask a larger question: What happens when we stop looking at each event separately and begin looking at the pattern? From the extraordinary turns in Israel’s war to Rav Yosef Zvi Rimon’s idea of the “Divine puzzle,” we explore a world in which every individual event may have a perfectly reasonable natural explanation—and yet, when the pieces are placed beside one another, we are left asking: Who is holding the string? But Bereishit reminds us that Hashem created man be-tzelem Elokim, with genuine beḥirah, and therefore history can never be a simple story of puppets and miracles. Drawing on the Rambam, the story of Kayin, Rabbi Asher Abittan’s unforgettable teaching of the “50/50 world,” and the contrasting responses of Yitro and Amalek, we ask how Divine Providence and human freedom can exist together—and why two people can witness the same events and see completely different realities. Ultimately, the question is not only whether we can recognize Hashem in the story, but whether, after everything we have lived through, we can recognize one another again.

BERESHIT — THE LIGHT HIDDEN IN THE DARKNESS

This morning at Breakfast & Class, we went back to the very beginning—to the first two verses of the Torah. God creates heaven and earth, and yet almost immediately we encounter tohu vavohu: chaos and emptiness, darkness and an unfathomable abyss. Why would a perfect Creator begin His world this way? Our Sages reveal something remarkable: hidden within these words is not only the story of Creation, but the entire story of Jewish history—our exiles, our darkness, and ultimately our redemption. BERESHIT — THE LIGHT HIDDEN IN THE DARKNESS explores the sparks of holiness concealed within a broken world, the astonishing secret hidden in the word meraḥefet, and the Midrash’s teaching that even while darkness covers the abyss, the spirit of Mashiaḥ is already hovering above it. Perhaps Bereshit is teaching us one of life’s most important lessons: darkness does not mean that God has disappeared. Sometimes the light is already there, waiting for us to uncover it—one mitzvah, one act of ḥesed, one page of Torah, and one spark at a time.

Taking the Fire Home - Esh Dat Lamo - simchat torah

What does it really mean when the Torah describes itself as “Esh Dat Lamo” — a Torah of fire? As we reach the final words of the Torah on Simḥat Torah, we discover a remarkable tradition surrounding the Baal Shem Tov and the name of his daughter, Adele—a name connected to the very letters of Esh Dat Lamo. From Ḥanokh the shoemaker to a pair of torn shoes that changed a family’s future, an unexpected thread begins to emerge: Torah is not meant simply to be studied or even held. It is meant to become a fire that we carry into ordinary life and then pass forward. For me, this teaching became deeply personal. My mother was Adele, and she lived to 98. At 95, she was still working out and teaching women a fifth of her age how to train safely with weights—and there is a photograph I treasure of her at that age holding her tiny great-granddaughter, Orly Adele. This week, another Adele in our family celebrates with her husband the brit milah of their long-awaited first child. On Simḥat Torah we finish the Torah and immediately begin again, because in Judaism nothing holy is meant simply to end. The greatest blessing is not merely that our children carry our names. It is that they carry our fire.

BRING IT BACK TO THE HEART The Secret of the Lulav, the Circle, and Hoshana Rabbah

BRING IT BACK TO THE HEART The Secret of the Lulav, the Circle, and Hoshana Rabbah What would a stranger think walking into synagogue on Sukkot morning? A room full of intelligent, serious people holding palm branches and a strange yellow fruit, moving them in every direction—and then marching in circles around the Torah crying הוֹשַׁע נָא — “Please save us!” We have performed these rituals since childhood, but perhaps familiarity has caused us to stop seeing just how extraordinary they really are. In this class, we follow the Ben Ish Ḥai and the teachings of the Arizal into the hidden meaning of these movements: the Or Makif of the sukkah that surrounds us, the shefa we spread outward with the lulav, and the holiness we draw back toward the heart. From the walls of Yericho to the protective circle of a marriage, from thirteen hakafot of אֶחָד and אַהֲבָה to the intimacy of Shemini Atzeret, we discover that Sukkot is teaching us which walls must come down, which walls must remain—and how to gather the scattered pieces of ourselves and bring them back to the heart.