This week I saw one of the most gut wrenching and inspiring things I can ever remember.
A video surfaced showing six Israeli hostages “celebrating” Chanukah while being held in Hamas tunnels. The footage was taken in 2023. Their faces are pale and their bodies are visibly malnourished. One of them, Hersh Goldberg-Polin, is seen with his arm severed a couple of inches after his elbow.
With nothing but scraps, they created a makeshift menorah by turning cups upside down. They recited the blessings and sang Chanukah songs. Wearing stained clothing, some barefoot, they embraced one another.
As I watched, I tried to imagine the pain, the fear, the darkness, and the suffering they were experiencing. And yet, in that place, they chose light. They chose faith. They chose joy.
Everything in life must teach us something, and everything happens for a reason. The timing of this video is not a coincidence, because this week’s Torah portion tells the story of another Jew confined deep underground. Joseph is thrown into a pit, sold into slavery, and eventually imprisoned in an Egyptian dungeon.
While in prison, Joseph encounters two inmates, Pharaoh’s chief cupbearer and chief baker. The Torah describes a very strange moment. One morning, Joseph notices that they look distressed and he asks them, “Why do you look so miserable today?” 
For anyone reading the verses, it is quite obvious why they were miserable. Not long before, they were serving the king in the splendor of the royal palace. Now they were imprisoned alongside a Hebrew slave, a humiliating fall from power. Of course they were miserable!
And there is more. Joseph himself is a slave, falsely imprisoned, far from home, with every reason to despair. And despite all of that, he notices the pain of others. 
The Rebbe explained this is because Joseph believed that every human being, created in the image of G-d, has a spark of dignity and hope, even in the darkest place. So when he sees someone in distress, even though his own life is far from perfect, he steps forward to help.
And it was that simple act of empathy and concern for the life of others that became the catalyst that changed everything in Joseph’s own life. It led to Joseph interpreting their dreams, which ultimately led to his freedom and his rise to become viceroy of Egypt.
Those hostages, like Joseph, remind us that while one can physically be imprisoned, the soul cannot be extinguished. Even underground, even broken, even surrounded by evil and suffering, the flame still burns and there is hope for good. On Sunday evening we begin lighting the menorah. It is lit once it is dark, outside, to remind us that even the smallest light can dispel the greatest darkness. When you light your menorah this year, take a moment to thank G-d for the blessings in your life and for the light that continues to shine.

I'm often asked if miracles still happen today. Well, this week was an important week, and gave me a lot to reflect on and think about. When I watch what is going on in Israel, I can not help but recognize how miraculous these past few days have been. 
It reminded me of a Chassidic saying from the students of the Maggid of Mezritch: “When we were at the Maggid’s table, miracles used to roll freely on the floor; we didn’t even bother to pick them up.” Today, too, it can feel like miracles are happening so regularly that we’ve stopped noticing.
That Iran, a nation once feared by much of the world, is collapsing before our eyes is astonishing. That Israel’s preemptive strike successfully crippled Iran’s key military assets and eliminated its top leadership is remarkable. That Iran’s proxies remain either incapable or unwilling to respond, and that Iranian supporters like Russia and China are staying on the sidelines, is beyond explanation. Most importantly, that the hundreds of drones and missiles launched at Israel caused minimal harm in comparison to their intended carnage, is miraculous.
Let’s take a moment to pause and reflect on that, and let me ask you; do you think miracles still happen today?
The word “Jew” comes from the name Yehuda, which is rooted in hoda’ah, meaning gratitude. It’s a reminder that our identity is tied to being thankful to G‑d. And today, we have a lot to be thankful for. 
While we admire the skill and bravery of the IDF, and we pray that G-d continues to protect them, we can never fall into thinking, “My own power and the might of my own hand have won this for me.” In the words of King David “Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we call out in the name of the L‑rd our G‑d.” The strength of Israel’s army, and the determination of its leaders, ultimately depends on G-d.
Seeing what is happening is also a good reminder to us that G‑d’s wonders are not limited to the distant past, like during the Exodus or the story of Purim. We are living through our own chapter of divine intervention, and an important, and often needed reminder that G‑d is with us.
When we remember that the Holy Land of Israel is a land under His constant watch, and that “the Guardian of Israel neither slumbers nor sleeps,” it gives us courage, confidence, and clarity. And like we are experiencing miracles in Israel now, may we soon see the greatest miracle of all: the coming of Mashiach, when the words of the prophet will be fulfilled “As in the days of your exodus from Egypt, I will show you wonders,” with peace and prosperity for all humanity.
May that day come soon.

We just celebrated Shavuot, and what an inspiring holiday it was. From late-night learning to the Ten Commandments Torah reading. From the young children that decorated our bima with Mount Sinai flowers and the wonderful dairy dinner enjoyed by the community, it was truly special. Shavuot is the holiday of past, present, and future, and together, we celebrated receiving the Torah while looking ahead as we continue building a strong and vibrant Jewish community.
At the same time, the world around us is shaking. With everything happening in Israel, and the attacks against Jews and Jewish events here at home, it's easy to feel disoriented or even afraid. It is deeply troubling to see Jews being burned on the streets of America, and we are grateful to law enforcement for swifty apprehending and forcefully charging the terrorist perpetrator and his accomplices. 
We can never allow these things to deter us. Doing so would be giving those who hate us exactly what they want. In moments like these, we must hold on to a few fundamental truths that are central to the worldview of a Jew:

• The Jewish people have the right to live in peace and safety in the Holy Land of Israel, because G-d gave it to us. This is written in the Torah, which is revered by billions of people around the world. May we internalize this and have the strength to say it with pride.
  
  
• The Torah is a “tree of life to those who hold onto it.” By living according to its teachings and embracing the mitzvahs, a Jew can find true meaning, fulfillment, and peace. May we each merit a taste of this life.
  
  
• The Torah’s highest value is the sanctity of human life. When there is a threat, we must act first to protect life, eliminating danger before it strikes. We must do so until there is decisive victory, because otherwise the threat returns. May Israel have the strength to live this truth, and may we have the clarity to say it.
  
  
• At Mt. Sinai G-d made us the “chosen people.” This is not something to be ashamed of. It means we were chosen for duty and obligation to live with higher purpose and responsibility. By living with more goodness, holiness, and integrity, we act as “a light unto the nations.” May we embrace this calling and be proud of who we are.

Finally, let us find inspiration in the eternal words of priestly blessing in this week’s Torah portion: “May G-d bless you and watch over you. May G-d shine His face to you and endow you with grace. May G-d bestow His favor upon you and grant you peace.”

Today is Lag B’omer. But this week has been an emotional rollercoaster.
On Monday, Edan Alexander became a free man once again after spending 584 days of being chained, tortured and starved in Hamas dungeons.
Then, on Wednesday, Tzeela Gez was shot and killed by a Palestinian terrorist while her husband was driving her to the hospital to give birth near Jerusalem. Her husband, also wounded, tried to stop her bleeding until the ambulance arrived. After an emergency C-section, their baby was delivered but remains in critical condition. Tragically, Tzeela did not survive.
This is the harsh reality our brothers and sisters in the Holy Land are facing each day. We pray for their peace and security, and most importantly, that they have the strength to take the right steps to live safely and securely. "Adon-ai Oz L'Amo Yiten; Adon-ai Yivarekh Et Amo Ba-Shalom" — May G-d grant strength to His people; may G-d bless His people with peace.
In times like these, one thing we must always be able to depend on is each other: the teachings of the Torah, and our love and commitment to one another, living the verse "Ve’ahavta l’re’acha kamocha" — love your fellow as yourself.
Just as we know we can turn to our family without hesitation, in moments of joy and in moments of pain, and they to us when they need strength, we must be able to feel that same unbreakable bond with our larger Jewish family, no matter where they are. Their pain is our pain. Their joy is our joy. Their struggles are ours too.
This is always important, but it feels especially meaningful today, as we celebrate a holiday that reminds us of this timeless value: Lag B’omer.
Lag B’omer commemorates the end of a devastating epidemic that raged among the students of the great sage Rabbi Akiva, resulting in the loss of 24,000 lives. Finally, on Lag B’omer, the plague ceased.
We are taught that this tragedy occurred because the students "did not act respectfully toward one another." Each, though deeply committed to Rabbi Akiva’s teachings, was so certain of their own understanding that they lacked the humility to make room for other perspectives.
The lesson for us today is both clear and necessary.
We must recognize that those who view things differently from us are not necessarily evil, immoral, or unintelligent. They may simply have a different perspective, background, or way of understanding.
Today more than ever, we must find within ourselves the ability to respect and love even those who we disagree with. We must be willing to engage in meaningful and thoughtful conversations with them. That is what loving your fellow means sometimes. 
There is also an added bonus. We just might learn something new from them, and they from us.

“Rabbi, what’s the secret of Chabad?”
It’s a question I’m asked all the time.
The truth is, it’s not really a secret, and it’s certainly not new. It was written 3,337 years ago on a piece of parchment in the desert. We read it in this week’s Torah portion: “Love your fellow as yourself.” Rabbi Akiva called this the “great principle of the Torah.”
But here’s the challenge; how can love be commanded? The Torah is a book of commandments, not suggestions. And love is a feeling, not an action. Can we really be expected to feel love for someone else as we do for ourselves?
This question has sparked many interpretations. Some commentators suggest the mitzvah is about action, not emotion: treat others with the same care and dignity you’d want for yourself. As Hillel famously put it, “What is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow.”
Yet the Torah’s wording is precise and eternal. It doesn’t just tell us to treat others well. It says to love them. As yourself.
Chassidic philosophy sheds light on this. The difficulty in loving another comes from seeing them as a separate physical being. But if we look deeper, past the body, past the differences, and see the soul, the divine spark, we realize that we are not two. We are one. Spiritually, we are both expressions of the same G‑dly essence. To love another, then, is to love a part of ourselves, just as one limb naturally cares for another.
At first this might sound like a lofty ideal that reads well on paper but doesn’t hold up in real life. “This just isn’t the lived experience!” some might protest. But if we think about it a bit more deeply, we realize this actually isn't something new we need to learn or be taught. We already know it. We already feel it. And in many ways, we already live it.
Just think back to how we felt on October 7. It was as if our own brother or sister had been attacked. How is that possible? How can we feel such a strong connection to people we've never met?
The answer is simple: we are one people, bound by a shared soul. We shouldn’t need a crisis to remind us of that bond. Let’s find ways to embrace and celebrate it, especially during the good days.
As one scholar paraphrased: a healthy body is one where every part works in harmony. Likewise, a healthy Jewish people is one big, caring family where each individual loves the other like his or her own self. Where we hold each other in pain, and celebrate each other’s joy. Where we rush to help, and turn away from judgment and shame.
Love for those closest to home nurtures love for the extended family of humanity, and from there, love for all G‑d’s creatures. But if love doesn’t start at home, from where will it come?
Some three hundred years ago, in a small town in Russia, the Baal Shem Tov taught that “A soul enters this world for seventy or eighty years just to do a favor for another.” His successors, the Chabad Rebbe’s, spent seven generations living and teaching this. If we can live this today, just imagine how much better the world would be. Let’s look at our fellow for who they really are, the very essence of their soul, and then we can truly love the other, just as ourselves, as the Torah commands.

One of the questions I’m most often asked is about Jews and Israel. In fact, the question of what right Jews have to live in Israel is one that we are all asked repeatedly, by both friends and foes. Some point to historical documents like the Balfour Declaration or the League of Nations. More recently, some have referenced Israel’s defensive military victories of 1948 and 1967 as justification of legitimacy.
Despite these responses from various platforms, the question is still being asked, our legitimacy is still challenged, and our identity is often questioned. And this isn't just a rhetorical issue. When one’s identity is under question, so is their self-confidence—and this can also impact how they are treated by others.
So, perhaps it is time to return to the basics, back to the beginning—yes, the very beginning, in Genesis. This week, we read how G‑d said to Abraham, “I have given this land to your descendants” (Genesis 15:18).
When G‑d promised the Land of Israel to Abraham, and his son Issac’s descendants, the land became—and remains to this day--the inheritance of every Jew, not subject to negotiation or trade. It is solely G‑d’s promise to Abraham that constitutes our unshakable connection to the land.
On numerous occasions, when speaking with Israel’s leaders and in his public addresses, the Rebbe expressed his belief that confidently and unapologetically articulating this claim would earn the respect of the international community. The Bible, revered by billions around the world, commands respect; additionally, even those who do not share this belief will appreciate our conviction in it. The Rebbe argued that basing the Jewish claim to the Promised Land on treaties, military victories, or diplomatic agreements can, in fact, undermine respect for the legitimacy of our claim in the eyes of other nations. Only when we stand firm in our beliefs and traditions can others respect us as well.
When we are more educated and do stand firm, we are also a blessing to others for all the good needed in their life, as G-d said to Abraham “through you all the nations will be blessed,” and “I will bless those that bless you.”

This week we read in the Torah how Balak, the king of Moab, summons the prophet Balaam to curse the people of Israel. Balaam attempts to pronounce his curses; each time, blessings issue forth instead, and he says:
“How can I curse whom G-d has not cursed, and how can I invoke wrath if the L-rd has not been angered? For from their beginning, I see them as mountain peaks, and I behold them as hills; it is a nation that will dwell alone, and will not be reckoned among the nations.” (Numbers 23:8-9)
Reading these verses reminded me of two conversations the Rebbe had on the topic of the people of Israel being "a nation that dwells alone...,” one with Yitzhak Rabin, and one with social critic, author and professor, Harvey Swados. 
Rabin recalled how the Rebbe spoke with him about his position as Israel's Ambassador to the United Nations, and Israel's position on the world stage, and quoted this verse reminding Rabin that while Israel may have friends, they still would still be “alone” and looked at differently. There was something to embrace about this. During their conversation, the Rebbe explained that what historically kept the people of Israel “alone” was a result of both the positive aspects of Judaism, our faith, and our commitment, as well as the negative forces of Jew-hatred, which helped quell assimilation and kept us together as a people. (Watch Rabin retell it here). 
The conversation with Swados took an interesting turn. What follows are notes taken by Swados, published by the New York Times, read the full piece here:
“...Earlier, you asked me about the future of Judaism. Suppose I ask you how you explain the past, the survival of Judaism over three millennia.”
“Well,” I said a bit uneasily, “the negative force of persecution has certainly driven people together who might otherwise disintegrate. I'm not certain that the disappearance of that persecution, whether through statehood in Israel or through the extension of democracy in this country, wouldn't weaken or destroy what you think of as Jewishness.”
“Do you really think that only a negative force unites the little tailor in Melbourne and the Rothschild in Paris?” the Rebbe asked me.
“I wouldn't deny the positive aspects of Judaism.”
“Then suppose that scientific inquiry and historical research lead you to conclude that factors which you might regard as irrational have contributed to the continuity of Judaism. Wouldn't you feel logically bound to acknowledge the power of the irrational, even though you declined to embrace it?”
The conversations the Rebbe had with Rabin and Swados give us so much to think about. In the meantime, let's embrace our beautiful heritage by deepening our Jewish education, and strengthen our observance of Torah and Mitzvahs so we can live our faith with pride. 

Today marks the 122nd birthday of the Rebbe. This day is commemorated with intensified Torah study, and increased charitable acts. It is recognized annually as Education & Sharing Day by the President of the United States.
The Rebbe lived through the horrors of Stalinism, communism, and Nazism, witnessing the worst humanity has to offer. Yet he never lost hope in a brighter future. 

In a letter penned on his 53rd birthday, to Israel’s 2nd president Yitzhak Ben-Zvi, the Rebbe wrote: “From the day I went to cheder (Jewish elementary school), and even before that, the vision of the future redemption began to take shape in my imagination—the redemption of the Jewish people from their final exile. A redemption of such magnitude through which the purpose of their suffering, the harsh decrees and persecution of exile will be understood.”
It is this sense of hope, and the possibility of realizing a world where, in the words of the prophet Isaiah, “swords will be turned into plowshares,” that the Rebbe not only lived himself, but urged us all, and demonstrated how, we can experience. If only we opened our eyes.

Today, as we celebrate the Rebbe’s birthday, our brethren in Israel face renewed threats of annihilation and increasing international isolation. Just last week the world watched in horror as the Islamic Republic of Iran, led by its evil Ayatollah and cheered on by Jew-haters around the world, attempted to unleash fire and brimstone upon Israel, launching some 300 ballistic missiles and drones laden with explosives. 

Yet, what unfolded was nothing short of miraculous. No lives were lost, and the damage was minimal.

It reminded me of when another evil tyrant, Saddam Hussein, threatened the Holy Land with chemical warfare. In 1990, as the world trembled with apprehension, one lone voice offered confidence and hope. 

From Chabad Headquarters in New York, the Rebbe cited the Biblical verse “the Land of Israel upon which G-d’s Eyes are watching from the beginning of the year to the end of the year” and “the guardian of Israel neither sleeps nor slumbers.” He confidently reassured the world that since that’s what G-d promised, that’s what will be.

He also quoted an ancient Jewish passage that predicted a time when “the nations of the world will threaten each other... The king of Persia will provoke the king of Arabia, and the nations will be thrown into turmoil. Israel, too, will be in turmoil and terror, and will cry: `Where shall we go? What shall we do?'  And G‑d will say to them: `My children, do not fear! All that I have done, I have done for your sake. Do not fear, for the time of your redemption has come...’”

Remarkable footage captured individuals seeking the Rebbe's counsel during those uncertain times. Parents whose children were studying abroad in Israel asked if they should bring them back home, couples who had planned trips to Israel asked if they should cancel them, and a mother whose daughter was in Israel was terrified for her well-being and sought reassurance. To each one, the Rebbe confidently reassured them that Israel was safe and they should not fear to proceed with their plans. “Don’t even tell anyone you thought about not going,” the Rebbe said to one woman.

This also hits close to home very personally. During the height of Saddam’s threats, in January 1991, Mussie as an infant, traveled with her mother to Israel, with the Rebbe’s blessing. 

Just like it was then, when tremendous miracles occurred, the same happened this week. Truly miracles in our times.
There is much to admire about the Rebbe. But perhaps more than anything, the Rebbe’s broad shoulders and the personal responsibility he took for the well-being of others, is the most remarkable and inspiring aspect we can appreciate. He addressed the issues of the day in the most relevant and timely manner and provided guidance to a generation so perplexed. With his deep commitment to Torah and unwavering trust in the eternal word of G-d, he infused faith in a people, comforted the broken, and projected a realistic sense of calm and tranquility.  
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The Rebbe showed us how we can free ourselves of our self-imposed restraints and society-imposed constraints, and vigorously urged us all to open our eyes to see G-d's miracles and experience the future redemption. Today on his birthday, let’s live just one step higher. It is time we open our eyes.​

This Sunday, we will celebrate Purim and read the Megillah. The two most famous words in the Megillah are “venahpoch hu - it was reversed,” alluding to the overturning of Haman’s genocidal decree against the Jews. More broadly, these words encapsulate the essence of the Purim miracle when everything was turned upside down.
It was these words that came to mind this week when I read a letter from over 1000 Jewish Hollywood figures, proudly standing up in defense of the Jewish people and steadfastly refusing to renounce or refute their Judaism.
This stands in stark contrast to the actions of three infamous university presidents who couldn't bring themselves to condemn calls for the genocide of Jews.
The irony that there could be more moral clarity and human decency in Hollywood than in today's academia, which clearly suffers from moral decay and ethical erosion, certainly took me by surprise. But then again, if that isn’t an example of “venahpoch hu,” I don’t know what is.
Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi explained that Haman’s genocidal decree had an interesting loophole. If Jews renounced their faith and identity as “Mordecai's people,” Haman would leave them alone. Yet, remarkably, not one Jew even considered the option!
This profound sense of faith and commitment stemmed from Esther, who risked her life to approach the king. Contrary to what may have seemed more rational, popular, or less risky behavior, Esther didn't abandon or refute her Judaism; she stood firm. As Mordechai told her, “If you remain silent at this time, relief and rescue will arise for the Jews from elsewhere, and you and your father's household will perish; and who knows whether it was for a time such as this that you ascended to the throne.”
The lesson for us from Esther is clear. When we find ourselves at a crossroads or facing an important decision, where proudly expressing true Jewish values matters most, we must realize that we may have been gifted with our unique set of talents and abilities specifically “for a time such as this.” It might just be the very thing that you or I say or do at that moment, that will prove to be pivotal and alter the course of history. 
Queen Esther requested we read the Megillah on the 14th of Adar. Her wish has been honored by the Jewish people ever since, and the Book of Esther is included in the canon of our sacred texts. Join us on Sunday, March 22nd, the 14th of Adar, and hear the Megillah just as Esther requested.

I recently participated in the signing of a bill that will make it easier for South Dakota law enforcement to hold antisemites accountable. Though anyone can stand in the street and say whatever they’d like, HB1076 makes it easier to protect Jews in our state from hateful conduct. 
If sometime in the future, a Jewish child in South Dakota will be safer and more protected, it will be because of this bill. That is why I wholeheartedly supported it and am grateful to the South Dakota legislature for their overwhelming and bipartisan support, and to Governor Noem for making it a top priority this session.
Will it destroy the haters and completely eradicate antisemitism? Unfortunately not. 
So what, if anything, can be done to stop Jew hatred? Some argue we should be less visible and hide our mezuzahs, megillas and menorahs. Others suggest we need to be less supportive of our brothers and sisters in Israel and that Israel should defend itself less, to pacify and win over the rest of the world. The news and rhetoric today can be frustrating and isolating. 
During the time of the Purim miracle Jews were threatened with genocide by the evil Haman. It all changed when Mordechai met a group of children and asked them what they learned that day, and they began reciting verses of Torah to him.
It was at that moment that Mordechai knew the Jewish people would be okay. When there is proper Jewish education, there are knowledgeable Jews. When there are knowledgeable Jews, there are proud Jews, and where there are proud Jews there is a Jewish future. Incidentally, it was at that moment that Haman also knew that, try as he might, he would not succeed in getting rid of the Jews. 
When it comes to finding a career and making a living, we understand this idea well; if we want our children to succeed we must provide them with an education. We know this for their lifestyle and hobbies too. A parent recently told me they want their child to show an interest in soccer. So they started showing soccer games and championships on their TV screen at home and hope will build an interest in the child to sign up for the neighborhood soccer team. 
The same applies to Jewish identity and lifestyle. When a child can hold a siddur the right way up and read the Torah in its original Hebrew, they will be passionate as a teen and adult to attend services and participate in Torah classes. If they introduce themselves to their college friends as a proud Jew, it will only happen if they've been educated as one.
This is also our best weapon against antisemitism, as we say in the Passover Haggadah “In every generation they rise up to destroy us, but the Torah that has stood by our ancestors and for us, and You (G-d) save us from them.” 
Yes, we must always do what we can to ensure hateful perpetrators are held accountable, but as individual Jews, we can’t forget that the most important thing is to focus on and invest in Jewish education. Imagine what the Jewish community would look like if every dollar spent on educating the world about antisemitism was spent instead on educating Jews about Judaism; Jewish education.
Think about the astonishing fact that you and I are here today as  Jews continuing our 3,500 year old heritage and tradition. Answer these questions to yourself Who are we? What in fact is our heritage and tradition? What makes us Jewish? The “Chosen People”? What is our purpose here on earth? What is our privilege and responsibility as a Jew in 2024?
When we have a good sense of our Jewish identity, we may not be able to change the haters, but we will accomplish something far greater: We will have changed ourselves in ways that the antisemite will no longer be able to instill fear in us as they did before. When we are fully confident and proud of who we are, much of the antisemitism won’t matter anymore.
And if there is indeed any way to change how others look at Jews, this itself might be the best approach after all. In the words of the late Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, "Non​-​Jews respect ​Jews who respect ​Judaism."

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