Printed fromJewishPittsford.com
ב"ה

Rabbi's Blog

Jewish Thought of the Week (02/07/2025)

 

Dear Friends,

We can learn a lesson about leadership from this week’s Parsha, Beshalach. It is known as Shabbos Shira, the Shabbos of Song, because in Beshalach the great miracle of the splitting of the Sea unfolds. The Jews are finally safe from the Egyptians, and “Moshe (leading) the children of Israel sang this Song to Hashem: I will sing to G-d for He is very exalted; horse and rider he cast into the sea”. 


The children of Israel actually numbered a few million people whom Moshe led in the singing. How did the logistics work? How did millions of people sing the same song? 


This is discussed in the Gemara (Talmud) and three views are shared. Rabbi Akiva says that Moshe sang the song and the Israelites responded, stanza by stanza. Moshe said Ashira LaHashem (I will sing to G-d) and the people answered with this refrain (Ashira LaHashem). Moshe then said the next phrase: “for He is very exalted” and they responded Ashira LaHashem. And so they sang this same refrain for all of the verses. They affirmed Moshe’s singing and expressed their commitment by singing just the chorus. 


According to Rabbi Eliezer, the people actually sang each verse after Moshe, repeating that verse. They became loyal followers who themselves sang what Moshe had sung.6


Rabbi Nechemia says that Moshe began the Song, and all the people then followed and they all sang these entire song together! Everyone experienced Divine inspiration.


These three views can be seen as three different paradigms of leadership. In the first, Moshe led and only he sang these entire song whole song; whereas the others affirmed their total commitment and acceptance of his leadership.


The second approach to leadership is where the people were good disciples, following Moshe’s lead.


The third aspect of leadership is where Moshe begins, sets the goal and the tone; and ultimately everyone sings the entire song. It is with their own initiative, yet totally loyal to Moshe’s song.


All three paradigms are needed, depending on the situation. The sign of the ultimate leader is his ability to inspire the third aspect. As Rabbi Lord Sacks zl said (about the Rebbe): Good leaders create followers. Great leaders create leaders.


This Shabbos is the tenth of Shevat, known as Yud Sheva. It is the Yahrzeit of the sixth Chabad Rebbe (Rabbi Yosef Yitzchok) and the day that the Rebbe assumed the leadership of the seventh generation. 


The Rebbe’s teachings and vision have been adopted widely by Klal Yisrael, especially in Chabad, Shluchim and Shluchos (emissaries) as well as many more lay people, who are meticulous in following the Rebbe’s teachings and example; and using their initiative in trying to reach out to bring Redemption to the individual and the world 
(Thank you to Rabbi Shmuel for sharing these thoughts we me and others -may he blessed long healthy years to keep sharing Torah).


Shabbat Shalom!
Good Shabbos!
Rabbi Yitzi Hein

Jewish Thought of the Week (01/30/2025)

 

Dear Friends,

Humans have always lived on the edge, keen to test themselves against the greatest of challenges. Some swim with the sharks, literally. Others prefer tightrope walking over Niagara Falls. Some skydive out of an airplane. Others will run marathons. 

Then there are mountain climbers. They don’t get more demanding and gruelling  than Mount Everest.

Climbers do not go up alone. They employ the services of a local Sherpa who is familiar with the terrain and the weather. One whose guidance is the difference between life, and the ending of it. The most famous climber, the first one to conquer Everest and scale its peak, was Sir Edmund Hilary. His Sherpa, Tenzing Norgay, became a celebrity in his own right.

The Sherpa’s son recently shared something quite astounding. He claimed that, astonishingly, Sir Edmund and the Sherpa could not actually understand each other, as each didn’t speak the language of the other - and there was no interpreter. They were in partnership for an epic expedition, yet no words were shared. The language they spoke was that of a love for climbing, as well as that of a pioneering spirit. That bond got them through it.

In an era when so much strife and discord dominates our lives - much of it due to miscommunication - what can we learn from these two ‘silent’ climbers?

One of the key underlying themes in the Exodus narrative (being read this week) is the power of speech. Moshe, the “man of no words” [Exodus. 4:10] is specifically chosen by G-d to be His communicator to Pharaoh, and then later to be the conveyor of the Divine Torah to the Jewish people.

Pharaoh, on the other hand, is the “man of many words”. When he spoke, it became law. The ultimate dictator, it was he who ordered, directed and implemented the persecution and slavery of the Israelites. It was Pharaoh who challenged the Jewish midwifes to commit infanticide. It was Pharaoh who made promises, which he promptly broke. No surprise that the Rabbis noticed how the four Hebrew letters in Pharaoh’s name, when rearranged, consists of two words “Peh Rah” - evil mouth.

Ironically, of the two individuals, it is Moses - the man of no words - who is eternally admired. Pharaoh - the man of many words - is eternally reviled. Because it’s not the ability, or inability, to speak which sets you apart. It is the words you use, how you use them, when you use them, and the tone being utilised.

Words can act as bridges, connecting different people when used wisely. Words can also be forces that divide us. Use the wrong word and you can close down the person you are attempting to open up. Certain words may seem innocuous enough to us. But those same words can cause another great hurt and pain.
 
Humans are blessed with intelligence, and the ability to speak clear words. In choosing to emulate Moses and utilise our gift of speech wisely we, like him, can also achieve eternity (Thank you to Rabbi Lew of London for sharing these thoughts with me).

Have a great Shabbat!
Rabbi Yitzi Hein

Jewish Thought of the Week (01/23/2025)

 

One of my favorite jokes: 
There are 2 types of people. 
People who put all people into 2 types, and those that don't.

Pundits love generalizations. Half the world is this, the other half is that, and that explains just about everything.

Here, then, is our generalization: the world consists of pagans and transcendentalists. 

Pagans eat, drink and sleep; transcendentalists work for world peace. Pagans believe that the way things are is the way things should be; transcendentalists believe that we were placed on this earth to change the way things are. Pagans worship nature; transcendentalists worship G‑d.

The Egyptians were pagans, the Hebrews were transcendentalists. The Hebrews were slaves to the Egyptians; then G‑d intervened, humiliated the Egyptians, freed the Hebrews and set them loose upon the world. This, in 30 words (more or less), is the story of the birth of the Jewish people.

Thus we read of ten plagues visited upon the Egyptians. These are usually understood as punishments for their cruel treatment of the Jews. But a closer reading of the Torah's account reveals that they also served a more basic function: to discredit the gods of Egypt so that "you shall know that I am G‑d."

The Nile — Egypt's source of sustenance and most revered deity — turns to blood; the soil turns to vermin, the skies rain a lethal deluge of fire and ice, the light of day turns to inky blackness. Nature is transformed from a nurturing mother into a capricious witch.

Taking the Jews out of Egypt would not have achieved anything if the Jews had taken Egypt along with them when they went. So first the Jews had to witness the destruction of Egypt's gods: they had to hear their masters renounce the natural order they had deified; they had to see the "goodness" of nature exposed for the sham that it is.

Only when the paganism of Egypt had been uprooted from their hearts, could the Children of Israel proceed to Mount Sinai to receive their mandate as "A light unto the nations." Only then could they teach the world that nature is not to be worshipped, but improved upon; that the way things are is to be supplanted with the way things ought to be.



Rabbi Yitzi Hein

Jewish Thought of the Week (01/16/2025)

 
Dear Friends,

This week I began studying, along with millions across the planet, the 2nd book of the Torah know as Shemot a.k.a. the Exodus Story.

As I was studying with our daily Torah zoom group (scroll below if you would like to join) we were reading the part about G-d appearing to Moshe (Moses) at the burning bush, giving Moshe a mission to redeem the Jewish people from Egyptian slavery. 
 
When you read the actual verses along with basic Rashi commentary, you get a better picture of the scene: G-d was speaking to Moshe over a week trying to convince Moshe to accept this epic mission, with Moshe finally accepting.
 
Suddenly, it popped into my head. "This is your mission, should you choose to accept it"! I wondered if the show's creator might have garnered inspiration from our Torah (or Bible) portion?!
 
A quick Google search showed that the creator of that series was a Jewish writer by the name of Bruce Geller. Maybe that is what he had in mind? Who knows...
 
But then I found something much more inspiring from this connection. The original TV star who played the head of the I.M.F on the Mission: Impossible TV Series in 1966 was an orthodox Shabbat observant Jew by the name of Steven Hill.
 
His real-life story connected to the Mission:Impossible TV show brings out how a person can embrace their mission in life, despite the hardships:
 

Steven Hill was born in Seattle as Solomon (Shlomo) Krakovsky. Hill did not start his life as an observant Jew. After serving in the Navy, he turned towards acting, building a stellar reputation in New York. He was often compared to Marlon Brando, another rising star of the time. As Hill's career gained momentum, he started wrestling with deeper questions about his identity. While playing Sigmund Freud in a popular Broadway show, a rewrite had his character being accused of being Jewish night after night. This persistent accusation became a wake-up call that prompted Hill to explore his Jewish roots more deeply.
 

Feeling increasingly disillusioned with the superficial aspects of show business and the pursuit of fame, Hill began investigating Judaism. He started observing some mitzvot, including keeping Shabbos, and in 1962, he connected with the Skverer Rebbe, Rabbi Yaakov Yosef Twersky. His big break came when he was cast as Dan Briggs in "Mission: Impossible." The studio agreed to accommodate his Shabbat observance, but they underestimated his commitment. Hill would leave the set mid-filming on Fridays, causing the studio to scramble to cover for his absence by creatively adapting the storyline.

After one season, the studio decided to let Hill go, replacing him with Peter Graves. In 1966, Hill was offered a lead role in "The Sand Pebbles," a Steve McQueen military film, but the role required compromising his Shabbos observance. At the height of his acting career, Hill chose to forfeit the opportunity in favor of keeping Shabbos. Hill's dedication to his faith remained steadfast, demonstrating his unwavering commitment to his relationship with G-d over fame and success (you can read all the details of this story here)
 

" This is your mission, should you choose to accept it." This iconic popularized line, apparently was taken very seriously by this original Mission: Impossible actor. Realizing it or not, Steven Hill was following in the footsteps of Moshe. 
 

Whether you are given a mission of national importance like Moshe, or a personal mission like Steven Hill, this is a powerful lesson for all of us: G-d gives us our missions of all kinds all the time. Some feel impossible. But the Torah teaches us, that if we just choose to accept them, anything is possible!
 

Good Shabbos/Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Yitzi Hein

Jewish Thought of the Week (01/09/2025)

 

As a 4th Grader in the Jewish Day School in Morristown,NY , I had the great privilege of being in the class of a fantastic teacher, Rabbi Shaya Schtroks OBM. He was able to motivate the class to apply themselves with interesting initiatives and competitions. One of them was memorizing the verses of the blessings of Jacob, and if we do so, we would earn sports prizes. Somehow, most of the class got behind it and achieved this scholastic feat ( I believe I got a baseball mitt). Ever since then, I have always had a fascination with the blessings of Jacob.

Wait...what are the blessings of Jacob, you ask?
 

 

In this week's Torah portion of Vayechi- which closes the book of Genesis- Jacob blesses his children, the twelve tribes, in his last days. In these blessings lie many secrets foretelling events to come. As the verse tells us: And Jacob called to his sons, and said: "Gather together, that I may tell you what will happen with you in the end of days."

As a blueprint for life, these blessings have much to teach us. Each of the twelve tribes reflects a unique path in life. As the verse tells us at the conclusion of the blessings: All these are the twelve tribes of Israel... every one according to his blessing he blessed them. (Gen. 49:28) What is the meaning of the words "every one according to his blessing?"

Every one of the tribes has his particular journey, his specific energy which he must manifest in this world. Indeed, our Sages teach that the Re[e]d sea split into twelve paths, providing a separate path for each of the twelve tribes.

I always found the 12 Tribes to be a part of the Torah that fires up my imagination. The poetic language Jacob uses to bless and foretell each Tribe's special quality and mission is so visual and beautiful, and it tells us a lot of Jewish destiny.

To save you time, as I researched the 12 Tribes, I stumbled upon a Jewish artist who painted murals of each tribe's blessing. It gives you a visual crash course on the blessings of the 12 Tribes and here it is (highly recommended read!).

One basic idea to walk away with: while each of the tribes had a special quality, they all were needed to compliment each other to bring about the Jewish nation. 

This teaches us a basic idea of Jewish unity: there are all types of Jewish people with various roles, and we are all needed to be this huge force for good. We need each other!

Together, we bring blessing and progress to this world, not just for us, but for all of mankind!

Shabbat Shalom/Good Shabbos,
Rabbi Yitzi Hein

Jewish Thought of the Week (01/03/2025)

 

What a special week it's been! Starting with Sunday's Pittsford Menorah Lighting and BillsMafia Menorah, and continuing to Menorah lightings in Penfield,Victor and Honeoye Falls, it has been a week of good vibes and light. May we all continue to add light the whole year long!

On a more personal note, I had a Torah 'Eureka Moment'.
As many of you might know, I have the great pleasure of teaching a daily class on each day's Aliyah. An Aliyah is the way the custom developed to divide the whole Torah portion into 7 sections.
In our class, we translate the verses and bring basic narrative commentary to have a working understanding of the week's Torah portion and stories (this class is live and zoom - if you want to join just text me 
585-286-6147 and I'll add you to the list).

My moment was noticing something glaring. It might sound technical, but it struck me as off.

In the week's Torah portion, there is a very dramatic scene. After hiding his identity from his brothers, Joseph cannot bear it anymore and reveals himself. In the words of the Torah (Genesis 45:3-7):
"Joseph said to his brothers: “I am Joseph; is my father still alive?” His brothers could not answer him, for they were terrified before him. Joseph said to his brothers, “Come near to me, please,” and they came near. He said: “I am Joseph your brother, whom you sold into Egypt.”

The brothers are beside themselves with shame and remorse, and it is Joseph who comforts them. “It was not you who sent me here,” he says to them, “but G‑d.” It has all been ordained from Above: because you sold me into slavery, we will all be saved from the hunger which has stricken the entire region these last two years, and which is destined to continue for another five.
As the Torah ends off the Aliyah in verse 7 "But God sent me ahead of you to ensure that you survive in the land, and to sustain you in an act of great deliverance".

The weird thing is that Joseph isn't done talking. The next Aliyah opens up with him continuing his monologue in verse 8 "So now you can understand that it was not you who sent me here, but God. He has made me Pharaoh’s counselor, lord over all his household, and ruler over all Egypt".

 

Why does the Torah break up a perfectly good dramatic speech into 2 Aliyahs with a break in between??

 

This was my basic question. 
To my delight, I saw that the Rebbe addresses this in one of his discourses on the Parsha. I will attempt to summarize (to read the full scholarly work - click here (see section 3 ff.)

 

Joseph was the prototype for the Jew in exile. While all his brothers lived a relatively serene life in Canaan (original name of Israel), he was thrust into a foreign land of Egypt, first as a slave, then as a ruler. It would have been easy for him to lose his identity, and could have been expected, just as Jews could have been expected to assimilate into their host countries over the millenia.

 

Joseph's first feat, and legacy for us all, is that he was able to survive as a Jew and retain his Jewish identity in exile.  Even with his busy life in Potiphar's house, in prison, or as Egypt's viceroy, he stayed connected to G-d. This helped the Jewish people back then, and for all time, have the power to keep their spiritual strength while in exile.

That is what he was referring to in the end of the Aliyah verse 7 "But God sent me ahead of you to ensure that you survive in the land, and to sustain you in an act of great deliverance". 

But that is not the truly remarkable power of Joseph. He wasn't just sent to survive in exile, but to actually influence the Egyptian people, who at the time were a very pagan and anti-monothetic people.

Joseph's mission was not just to avoid the bad influences of Egypt but to make a positive impact on them and stem their corruption. 

And that is why the next Aliyah opens with his continuation of his monologue, because it refers to an infinitely higher purpose for finding oneself in exile and in hardship. In Joseph's words again "So now you can understand that it was not you who sent me here, but God. He has made me Pharaoh’s counselor, lord over all his household, and ruler over all Egypt".

The message for us is apropos, especially right after Chanukah.

The Jewish didn't just weather dispersion and oppression for millenia only to survive. G-d's providence takes all of us wehrever we might find ourselves ultimately to be influencers of goodness and morality.

May we keep that attitude of looking to spread light all throughout 2025, no matter what comes our way, and through all the acts of transformation may we bring the Ultimate translation of Moshaich and Redemption.

Good Shabbos/Shabbat Shalom,


Rabbi Yitzi Hein

Jewish Thought of the Week

Dear Friend, 

In this week’s Torah portion, Miketz, Pharaoh tells Joseph about his strange dream. He saw himself standing on the riverbank as seven fat cows emerged from the water, followed by seven thin cows that devoured them.

This dream stands in sharp contrast to the dream Joseph had earlier in the Torah. In Joseph’s dream, he and his brothers were out in the field, actively binding sheaves of grain. Pharaoh’s dream shows him passively watching from the sidelines. Joseph’s dream shows him working, gathering, and creating.

The Rebbe pointed out that these two dreams represent two very different views of life.

Pharaoh’s way of thinking is like standing on the riverbank and letting life happen to you. You’re not involved or responsible; you just watch as events unfold. It might seem easier—after all, if you’re not in the field, you don’t have to deal with the effort, anxiety, or responsibility of working hard. But that kind of life lacks meaning and fulfillment.

Joseph’s way of thinking, on the other hand, is about stepping into the field. Life is work, but it’s the kind of work that gives you purpose. It’s about taking all the scattered stalks—the opportunities, talents, and challenges you’re given—and turning them into something whole and meaningful.

How This Connects to Chanukah
This idea ties beautifully into the message of Chanukah. The Greeks, like Pharaoh, wanted the Jewish people to live passively, enjoying the pleasures of life without thinking too deeply about meaning or purpose. They were fine with the Jews being “cultural,” as long as they didn’t live by the Torah’s values or see themselves as partners with G-d in creating something greater.

But the Maccabees chose Joseph’s way. They stepped into the “field,” taking responsibility for their faith, their identity, and their future. It wasn’t easy—they were vastly outnumbered, and victory seemed impossible—but their hard work and trust in G-d brought light into the world.

Thank You for Being Like Joseph
In a world that often encourages us to sit back and go with the flow, you are actively creating light, like the Maccabees. Whether it’s through learning Torah, helping others, or making time for family and community, your efforts bring meaning to the “field” of life.

As we light the menorah this Chanukah, let’s remember the power of stepping into the field, gathering our own “sheaves,” and creating a life filled with purpose. Thank you for all the ways you contribute to that light!

Wishing you a Shabbat Shalom and a bright, joyous Chanukah!
Rabbi Yitzi and Rishi Hein

Jewish Thought of the Week

 

This week’s Torah portion, Vayishlach, tells us about Jacob’s return to the Land of Israel. The Torah says, “He built for himself a house, and made sheds for his cattle” (Genesis 33:17). The Lubavitcher Rebbe explains that this teaches us a powerful lesson about priorities.


For himself—for what really mattered—Jacob built a house, a strong and permanent place to live. But for his cattle, his material possessions, he only made sheds—simple and temporary structures. Jacob understood that while material things are important, they’re not the main thing in life.


This idea reminds me of a story about the fifth Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Sholom DovBer (known as the Rebbe Rashab), and one of his chassidim (followers).


This chassid had started a business making galoshes—rubber boots to keep feet dry in wet weather. His business became very successful, and soon he was spending every moment thinking about it. Day and night, his mind was on the factory, the sales, and how to make more money.


When he visited the Rebbe, the Rebbe noticed how distracted he was and said to him, “I’ve seen people put their feet into galoshes. But I’ve never seen someone put their head into galoshes!”


The Rebbe’s point was simple but powerful. It’s fine to work hard and take care of your business, but your head—your thoughts, energy, and priorities—shouldn’t get stuck in material things.


Jacob’s example reminds us to think about what we’re building in our own lives. For the important things—our family, our connection to G-d, and helping others—we build a strong and lasting “home.” For the things that don’t last forever, it’s enough to build a “shed.”


It’s inspiring to see how much energy you dedicate to things that truly matter, whether it’s supporting your family, contributing to the community, or making time for spiritual growth. Your efforts remind us all to focus on the things that create lasting meaning and connection.


Thank you for being a shining example of building what matters most. 


Wishing you and your family a Shabbat filled with peace and purpose!

Rabbi Yitzi and Rishi Hein

Jewish Thought of the Week

 

Dear Friends,

 

This week's story in the Torah portion VaYetzei is one that we Jews in the Diaspora can take direction and empowerment:

 

It begins with the scene of Jacob trekking to Charan, fleeing his brother Esau, when he goes to sleep and dreams of G‑d’s reassurance that he would eventually return to Israel in safety. His dream began with the famous vision of the ladder, as the verse states:

And he dreamed, and behold! a ladder set up on the ground and its top reached to heaven; and behold, angels of G‑d were ascending and descending upon it.1

There are various interpretations of the symbolism of the ladder. Some say the ladder represents prayer. Jacob slept on the Temple Mount, the place where all Jewish prayers ascend to G‑d, and G‑d was showing Jacob the awesome power of prayer: its ability to connect heaven and earth.

Others explain that the ladder is a metaphor for Mount Sinai, the mountain on which the Torah was given, and the message to Jacob was that the Torah, the Divine will and wisdom, is the ladder that connects the person to heaven.

But why did Jacob need to see the image of the ladder specifically at this point in his life, on his way out of Israel, while fleeing to the morally debased Charan?

Rabbi Mordechai Hakohen, a 17th century kabbalist of Safed, Israel, explains that the ladder represents Jacob himself.

Jacob was leaving the comfort and holiness of the land of Israel and was heading to a land that was spiritually foreign to his way of life. On Jacob’s way, G‑d showed him the vision of a ladder in order to impart to him that he himself had the ability to connect the lowest parts of the earth to heaven. While his grandfather Abraham was commanded to leave Charan and migrate to Israel, Jacob would make the opposite journey. Jacob’s life’s mission was not to flee the negativity but rather to face it and challenge it head on.

Jacob, like all his descendants, is compared to a ladder. No matter where he might be, no matter how foreign the environment might seem, he was capable of erecting a ladder that would connect heaven and earth, he was able to build a bridge that would allow the epitome of holiness to affect even the most distant of places.

There is another dimension to the comparison of Jacob and the ladder.

The Kabbalah explains that each of the three patriarchs embodied one of the three primary emotions: Abraham represented the attribute of love; Isaac the attribute of awe and reverence; and Jacob the attribute of compassion.

The attribute of compassion, even more than love, is the ultimate bridge-builder. Love is a very powerful emotion, yet its reach is limited to a specific audience. A person loves that which is attractive to him or her. A person does not love everybody and everything; love is selective, it is awakened and attracted to specific people or objects that, for whatever reason, touch the heart in a specific way.

Compassion, on the other hand, can reach anybody. It may be a person whom you never met, whose language you don't understand, yet the moment you sense that the person is suffering, something in your heart will connect to the person with empathy and compassion.

In fact, compassion has the power to unleash love. You may have known someone for many years and felt no connection to him or her. Yet as soon as tragedy strikes and you feel compassion for the person, suddenly, you begin to see how wonderful the person is. You begin to feel a feeling of closeness and love toward the person. How does that happen? The love flows over the bridge created by compassion.

We each have a Jacob within ourselves, a Jacob that allows us to empathize with people who may seem very different from ourselves. The Jacob within us recognizes and connects to the soul within others, connecting heaven and earth.

Thank you to my friend Rabbi Menachem Feldman for sharing this idea with me.

Good Shabbos/Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Yitzi Hein

Jewish Thought of the Week

 sasson.jpg

Do you want to know how a nation feels? It's simple: just check the song
topping the charts.


Throughout history, music has been a powerful barometer of national mood.
During the Vietnam War, patriotic songs and protest anthems dominated U.S.
charts. The Roaring Twenties saw carefree songs, capturing the love and
optimism of a generation that felt they were sitting on top of the world.


So, what songs would you expect to top the charts in Israel in the wake of
the devastating October 7 attacks, a tragedy that claimed nearly 1,400
lives and left the nation reeling from one of the most brutal terrorist
assaults in its modern history?


A nation still at war, with soldiers fighting daily in Gaza, facing ongoing
rocket attacks from Lebanon, losing lives on multiple fronts, and enduring
the continuous trauma of hostages held captive and families torn apart?


Perhaps you'd anticipate songs of mourning, of anger, or defiance.


Instead, the most streamed song on Spotify is a profound anthem of... G-d's
love! "Tamid Ohev Oti" (Always Loves Me). The song has become an instant
hit, with millions of views on YouTube and other platforms.  Listen to it here


Here are is a translation of some of the lyrics:


"G-d is a good Father, and He always takes pride in me,
Seeing only the good points in me.


He sees that I want to be good,
Even though it doesn't always work out,
And I'm just a few prayers short.


And G-d, blessed be He, always loves me,
And I will always have only good.


It will get even better, and even better, and even better..."


Think about this for a moment. Israel has experienced one of its worst
traumas in modern history. You might expect the mood to be down or even
bitter. And yes, many people in Israel are deeply stressed by what’s
happening.


Yet, despite it all, everyone sings: "I will always have only good, and it
will get even better!" People choose to have a relationship with G-d that
is based on pure love.


The Rebbe always championed this approach to relationships with G-d.
Already on the first evening when he became Rebbe, he made it clear that
his top priority was going to be the three loves: love of G-d, love of the
Torah, and love of the Jewish people—and how they are all really one.


This vision of love inspired the Rebbe to begin the Chabad House movement
shortly afterward.


What started with the Rebbe in the 1950s with a handful of Chabad locations
became a massive empire, with Chabad Houses literally all around the world.
Cambodia? Check. South Korea? Check. Siberia? Check. Pittsford? Check (I
had to include that one!).


This coming week, the annual Kinus, Chabad's global conference, will take
place in Brooklyn, and I’m looking forward to joining thousands of my
fellow Shluchim there


And it was all based on love.


The Rebbe explained that in previous generations, the relationship with G-d
may have been based on other emotions such as awe and fear, but nowadays,
love must be the main component of our connection to G-d.


The Rebbe would illustrate this principle with a teaching from the Zohar:


"Rabbi Shimon rejoiced and referred to the verse: 'G-d, I have heard Your
renown, and I am in awe.' Rabbi Shimon then commented: There [in the other
context], it is appropriate to focus on awe and reverence.


"For us, however, everything hinges on love and affection, as it is
written: 'And you shall love the L-rd, your G-d.' 'It was out of love for
you that G-d chose you.' 'I have loved you, says the L-rd.'"


G-d loves us. We love Him. We love each other. This is the recipe that is
going to keep Am Yisrael Chai for generations.


And if there is one thing we can do today to help secure the future of the
Jewish people, it is to actively add more of the three loves to our world:
love of G-d, love of Torah, and love of each other, one act at a time. (Thank you to Rabbi Mendy Kaminker for sharing his thoughts with me).


Wishing you a Shabbat Shalom!


Rabbi Yitzi Hein

 

Jewish Thought of the Week

 

Abraham, the first Jew are both famliar and a source of never ending depth. Every incident in his life is significant and contains valuable insights for us, his descendants. Let's take one famous part of his life:
The Torah states that " Abraham planted an aishel (tree) in Beer Sheva" (Genesis 21:33). What should we learn from this? The importance of Arbor Day? That Abraham was a tree-hugging Hippie? How can the environmentally friendly person (who already carpools, recycles, and refuses to shop at Home Depot or buy non-fair trade coffee) apply this teaching?
It is known that Abraham was in the business of welcoming guests. He invited complete and total strangers to come into his tent, eat his food, drink his wine, and relax from their journey. Abraham was a real mentsch.

It just so happened that he worked in the desert. Due to a tremendous lack of shade he planted a tree. What better way to welcome a sweaty wayfarer than with a well-shaded seat?
 
As the saying goes, "two Jews three opinions"—so too in our case. The Talmud lists two other opinions as to the nature of this aishel. According to one opinion it was not a shade tree, but rather an entire orchard of fruit trees. Once again Abraham's focus was on the guests. Wouldn't it be lovely after a long trek through the desert to run into a ripe piece of fruit? I think so.
 
A third opinion maintains that Abraham built an entire five-star hotel complex, complete with a swanky lounge and full service restaurant. Yet again Abraham's objective was to provide fabulous service to the weary traveler.
 
The lesson contained here is timeless and it is not a call to join the hotel industry or the Sierra Club. Abraham represents the embodiment of kindness. He did not merely give his guests the minimal requirements for survival – tepid water, stale bread, and a pinch of salt – rather he gave them fabulous food and displayed tremendous hospitality.
 
Each us has inherited Abraham's attribute of kindness, hence we have the capacity to give of ourselves in the same manner as Abraham. We can assist and help others not only with their vital necessities but rather we can go above and beyond the call of duty and help others in a truly limitless fashion. (Thank you to Rabbi Simcha Levenberg for sharing these thoughts with us).
 
Good Shabbos/Shabbat Shlalom,
Rabbi Yitzi Hein

Jewish Thought of the Week

 

This is a momentous week, and not just because of the election. It's the week of the first Jew and his contribution to the world. I bring you a great piece I read from Rabbi Mendy Kaminker - I hope you enjoy this very timely piece as much as I did - Rabbi Yitzi:

 

Everyone knows that Avraham, our forefather, introduced monotheism to the world. But did you know that he also introduced "it-ism" to the world?

 

Let me explain by giving an example from writing.

 

There are two types of writing. One is centered around the reader. You can easily spot this style because it often includes the word "you" multiple times throughout the text. When you see it, you can recognize that the writer is making a conscious effort to connect with their readers. (Did you notice that I have already used the word "you" six times so far?)

 

I call that type of reader-centered writing "you writing." It's all about you.

 

Then, there is another type: the kind that focuses on the topic at hand. You are not the center of the conversation and might not even be mentioned at all. The discussion is about "it." I call this writing "it writing."

 

This concept extends far beyond writing. Today, we are constantly bombarded by "you" type messages. Open the news, and reporters are always trying to figure out what will get us excited (or upset). Look at ads, and it's all about you: what you should wear, which car you should drive, and what brand name pasta you should buy for dinner. Call any customer service helpline, and all they want to talk about is how you feel or what you need.

 

And how about politicians? We just concluded an election campaign season with thousands of people across the country running for various positions. Many politicians are known for being voter-centric, often shifting positions on every imaginable topic to satisfy voters and secure their support.

 

If you ever use AI, you'll notice how it is the ultimate "you-centered" technology. It is all about you all the time. The little robot is designed to prioritize making you happy, quickly following any directions and offering endless compliments, obviously to keep you engaged and generate more profit.

 

While it is good to have some focus on the "you," too much can be just too much. This obsession with self-centeredness isn't new. It's a challenge humanity has faced since its earliest days.

 

In Avraham's time, the situation had become so extreme that even spirituality was centered around people. They worshiped idols fashioned to meet their exact needs and desires: an idol for fertility, an idol for rain, and an idol for ageless beauty. Even their gods were all about them.

 

Avraham introduced "itism" to the world. When he discovered G-d, he declared to the people: "Ladies and gentlemen, this is it. Our world is not all about ourselves; there is something greater, a G-d who created the heavens and earth, a G-d of truth who doesn't change. We are part of HIS grand plan, not the other way around. The world is centered around Him, not us."

 

At first, people balked at the idea. But then it started catching on like wildfire. Why? Because it is liberating to know that our lives are part of something far greater than our small and limited existence. A life centered on "you" can feel satisfying in the short term, but having a purpose greater than ourselves, a purpose worth living for, transforms our existence and makes it immortal.

 

As we read the story of Avraham in the Torah this week, now is the perfect time to introduce more "itism" into our lives. We should reflect on our G-d-given purpose and ask: how can we live more meaningful lives? How can we align ourselves to be more purpose-focused?

 

While a life centered around "you" might promise immediate happiness, true and lasting joy comes from embracing the "it." That higher purpose makes life worthwhile and gives us the strength to overcome all challenges. The path to genuine happiness goes through connecting to something greater than ourselves.
 
 
With Blessing,
Rabbi Yitzi Hein 

 

Jewish Thought of the Week

 

Imagine you spent some time apart from a loved one. Weeks or maybe even months. It could be physical distance. It could be emotional distance.

 

And then you discover each other again.

 

The spark. The feels. You have it all.

 

But then one of you has to go. A prior commitment. Can’t be delayed.

 

“I have to go. But I don’t want to leave you. Can you come with me?”

 

Hashem is the G-d of the whole universe. 

 

We just spent time with G-d during Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. We basked in each other’s presence and committed to each other. G-d doesn't want to "leave"...

 

But G-d has a universe to run. So He asks us, “Will you come with me?”

 

That’s what Sukkot is all about—spending time together with G-d in His universe.

 

Sometimes it’s cold. Sometimes it’s drizzling. Sometimes it’s warm.

 

But we're always together with Creator.

 

Sukkot starts tonight.

 

Would you like to join us in the Sukkah? You can see the whole schedule of sukkah meals & events (as well as services) at JewishPittsford.com/sukkos

 

Whether we get a chance to see each other over the holiday or not, I wanted also to wish you a Good Yom Tov and the very best for you and your family!

 

With Blessing,

Rabbi Yitzi Hein

Jewish Thought of the Week

 

Imagine you spent some time apart from a loved one. Weeks or maybe even months. It could be physical distance. It could be emotional distance.


And then you discover each other again.


The spark. The feels. You have it all.


But then one of you has to go. A prior commitment. Can’t be delayed.


“I have to go. But I don’t want to leave you. Can you come with me?”


Hashem is the G-d of the whole universe. 


We just spent time with G-d during Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. We basked in each other’s presence and committed to each other. G-d doesn't want to "leave"...


But G-d has a universe to run. So He asks us, “Will you come with me?”


That’s what Sukkot is all about—spending time together with G-d in His universe.


Sometimes it’s cold. Sometimes it’s drizzling. Sometimes it’s warm.


But we're always together with Creator.


Sukkot starts tonight.


Would you like to join us in the Sukkah? You can see the whole schedule of sukkah meals & events (as well as services) at JewishPittsford.com/(ADD THE LINK TO SUKOT SITE)


Whether we get a chance to see each other over the holiday or not, I wanted also to wish you a Good Yom Tov and the very best for you and your family!


With Blessing,

Rabbi Yitzi Hein

Jewish Thought of the Week

 

Sometimes it feels like we Jewish Rochesterians have enacted a biblical verse from the week's Torah portion. 


Actually, it feels like we knocked this one out not the park!


It was a remarkable week for Jews in Rochester and I feel fortunate to have experienced it personally. 


The week kicked off with 1000 people coming together for JFest 5785. Rabbi Mochkin,myself and other Chabad volunteers merited to take part with the shofar factory , mezuzah and tefilin booth engaging hundreds of  festival goers.


Rishi saw special attendance at her Tanya class and Torah and Tea with more Jewish women coming together to learn and connect with each other .


Wednesday night was our new men's group 'Torah & Whiskey' and I was floored when 15 guys showed up!


On Thursday huge crowds showed up at the Jewish  Federation's Comedy Event to support their work and laugh with comedian Elon Gold.


In this week’s parsha, we read: “You stand upright this day, all of you, before the L‑rd your G‑d…from the heads of your tribes to the hewers of your wood and the drawers of your water” (Deuteronomy 29:9–10).


In short all Jews have to stand together. All of us.


 Every member of the community, regardless of role, is essential.


Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi taught that we are like the organs of a body; each one depends on the other, from the “head” to the “foot,” all coming together to make a single entity.


This sense of unity is especially profound during the High Holidays when we all stand as one before G‑d. As we reflect on the trials facing our brothers and sisters in Israel—the victims, the hostages, and the citizens enduring war on two fronts—we are reminded that our strength comes from being there for each other. Whether through prayer, support, or solidarity, even from afar, we are united, holding one another up.


Each one of us plays a vital role in creating the beautiful moments that define our community. Whether through leadership, acts of kindness, or your generous support, you contribute something that no one else can.


The Lubavitcher Rebbe taught that we each have a strength, ability, or talent in which we excel over others. In some cases, you are a “head,” in others, a “foot,” but in all instances, we come together as one.


Your contributions—spiritual, emotional, and material—create the foundation upon which this community thrives. As we enter the new year, let us continue to support each other, creating more beautiful moments together.


So it's 2 steps:

1) We have to make efforts to stand ,laugh,cry ,just be together.

2) We need to know we each other.  Every Jew is vital and unique to the community.

Whether you lead from the front or support behind the scenes, your impact is felt, your presence matters, and together, we create something greater than ourselves.


Thank you for being a part of every beautiful moment we share. May we all be blessed with a year filled with peace, unity, and joy. Together, may we continue to share and create beautiful moments.

Shana Tova U’Metuka—Wishing you a sweet and fulfilling new year,

Rabbi Yitzi and Rishi Hein

Looking for older posts? See the sidebar for the Archive.