Rabbi Mendy's Blog - Chabad Chai

How do I make the "sea" split before me?

Friday, January 30, 2026 - 4:01 PM

How do I deal with the obstacles in life? How do I maintain my enthusiasm for living with purpose, for staying committed to my divine mission, when I find myself boxed in from every direction? There are moments when the challenge isn't subtle; it's overwhelming. When the path forward is blocked, retreat feels impossible, and the pressure mounts from all sides, I mean bone-crushing, keep you up at night pressure. In those moments, it's not just our strength that's tested, but our faith. How do we respond? What do we do?

The answer lies in this week's Torah portion, Beshalach. There, we learn of Kriyas Yam Suf, the splitting of the sea, one of the most dramatic moments in Jewish history: The Jewish people stand at the edge of the sea with the Egyptian army closing in behind them. Panic sets in. Fear is justified. From a human perspective, there is no solution. And yet, this impossible obstacle was not a mistake or a detour; it was deliberate. The sea didn't block their redemption; it completed it. Only then would the depth of their faith be revealed.

The sea did not split the moment they arrived. It split only when they moved forward. Nachshon, Moshe's brother-in-law, steps in as the water rises higher and higher, until faith turns into action. And then, only then, the sea opens. Hashem created the obstacle to draw out something greater from within them. Had the road been clear, their trust in G-d would have remained theoretical. The impediment forced faith to become real and lived, making them courageous and revealing the depth of their conviction.

That lesson speaks directly to our own lives. When we encounter walls that seem immovable, it's easy to assume we've gone the wrong way. But Beshalach teaches us that sometimes the obstacle is the way. G-d is not asking us to part the sea; He's asking us to step into it. Enthusiasm for life and mission is sustained not by certainty, but by trust; by knowing that even when the path isn't visible, it will open when we move forward with faith.

This is our call to action. When you face your own "sea" this week, don't freeze and don't turn back. Take the next faithful step, even if it feels uncomfortable, even if the outcome isn't clear. Sing your Shira not only after the miracle, but before it, by choosing trust, courage, and commitment. The obstacles you face are not there to stop you; they are there to reveal just how powerful your faith can be, and when you step forward straight into the challenge, the "sea" will split before you, bringing you one step closer to the promised land.

Our Jewish Memory Makes Us Fearless, Here's How

Friday, January 23, 2026 - 2:59 PM

How do we face the challenges of today? We know our history is full of Jewish pain and suffering, from ancient Egypt to modern times, but how does that history help us move forward? How does knowing what our ancestors endured empower us to navigate the uncertainty, the hostility, and the anxiety that so many feel in the world right now?

The answer lies in this week's Torah portion, Bo. There, the Jewish people are still enslaved in Egypt. The plagues are unfolding, the Exodus looms, and yet something remarkable happens: G-d commands Moshe not only to prepare for liberation, but to educate the children who haven't even been born yet. "And it shall be when your child will ask you…" , generations down the line. Before the chains come off the wrists of adults, the Torah turns its attention to the minds and souls of the next generation. That alone is a profound statement of Jewish hope.

Because the truth is, Moshe does not lead by focusing on the trauma of the past, but by charting a future that gives meaning to the journey. The Seder night, the mitzvah of matzah, and the promises of redemption are all framed as educational experiences, tangible lessons to embed the conviction that G-d loves us, protects us, and calls upon us to sanctify the world. Even in the darkness of Egypt, Moshe speaks to parents and children, reminding them that the future is bright, as though destiny is already unfolding even though they can't fully see it. That is Jewish leadership in its purest form.

This is why Jewish memory does not paralyze us; it mobilizes us. We revisit the pain of our history not to remain victims of it, but to transform it into strength, mission, and responsibility. We don't teach our children about slavery to make them fearful, but to make them fearless, to remind them G-d holds them, they are heirs to a sacred purpose, and they are never alone. And when we know this, we can look at the challenges of our own moment with confidence rather than despair.

This week's call to action is as clear now as it was then: invest in the future. Teach our children. Strengthen our communities. Add more Jewish light, more Jewish education, more mitzvot, more unity, and more courage. The world does not change because we look backward; it changes because we look forward, informed and inspired by our history. Let's step into that mission proudly, and finally bring our people and our world the peace and harmony of the final redemption.

What Do We Do When Our Efforts Fall Flat?

Friday, January 16, 2026 - 2:41 PM

How do we keep pushing when we falter? When we finally muster the courage and conviction to do the right thing, to speak up, to take responsibility, to make change — only to watch our efforts fall flat, complicate matters, and even push us backward? We all know that moment. The one where you look up to Heaven and ask, "Wasn't this supposed to get easier once I chose the right path?"

The answer lies in this week's Torah portion, Va'era. The Torah reminds us that even our greatest spiritual heroes faced that same discouraging paradox. Moshe finally agrees to accept his mission, confront Pharaoh, and speak on behalf of a broken people desperate for freedom. But instead of liberation, things get worse. The workload increases. Spirits collapse, and the Jewish people blame Moshe, one of the greatest leaders of the Jewish people. Moshe, in turn, cries out to G-d: "Why did You make things worse?" In that single line, the Torah validates the frustration we often feel.

G-d's answer to Moshe is a lesson to every one of us in the struggles we face. Redemption is not an overnight transformation; it's a process that exposes hidden strength. The plagues show the world that history has a moral arc, that tyranny has an expiration date, and that the Jewish mission is not subject to the whims of power. Pharaoh may control the present, but he does not define the future. Setbacks, it turns out, are not failures; they are the soil in which miracles take root.

And so, the Torah challenges us: don't measure your progress solely by outcomes. Measure it by conviction. By persistence. By your willingness to keep showing up even after a bad day, a closed door, or a painful disappointment. The Jewish story is not linear; it zigzags, stalls, dips, and at times looks utterly impossible, until suddenly it doesn't. Until suddenly the sea splits.

Which means this week's call to action is simple but audacious: keep pushing. If you stumbled, get back up. If you spoke and weren't heard, speak again. If you tried to build something good and the world pushed back, make it stronger. Add light. Add kindness. Add mitzvot. Add resolve. Because the journey isn't measured in comfort but in purpose, and when we refuse to quit, redemption moves from a promise to a reality.

How do I keep pushing forward when I feel like I'm going backwards?

Friday, January 9, 2026 - 3:00 PM

How do we maintain momentum when we're knocked down? When we feel lost and enslaved? How do we keep marching forward proudly carrying our mission when each step seems worse than the next? It's one thing to keep going when the wind is at our back, when life cooperates, when the universe nods in affirmation. But what about when the obstacles grow higher, when the world seems darker, and when progress feels impossible? We have fought so hard to stand up for our people and our homeland, and yet not only are we not seeing positive results, but in some cases, we are seeing quite the opposite.

The answer lies in this week's Torah portion Shemot. The Torah tells us how the Jewish people descend from honor to bondage with dizzying speed. Yesterday, they were welcomed into Egypt as the family of Joseph, the savior of the empire, and today, they are slaves making bricks in the mud. And when Moshe arrives with a promise of redemption, things don't get better; they get worse. Pharaoh increases the workload, cruelty intensifies, and morale collapses. From the outside, it looks like the Torah is teaching us the most discouraging message: that sometimes when we try to rise, we fall even further.

But that is precisely the point. Redemption rarely begins at the finish line; it starts when we find ourselves stuck at the bottom, pressed by forces we didn't choose and didn't expect. The Rebbe often emphasized that spiritual growth isn't linear; it comes with resistance. When the Egyptians squeeze harder, they are unintentionally pushing the Jewish people toward the moment they will break out entirely. What appears to be regression is actually the first phase of liberation. The descent is not punishment — it's preparation.

And that is the lesson for us today. We all go through challenging times when we lose clarity, when confidence slips, when the world doesn't recognize and reflect our efforts. And yet, Jewish history teaches that the moments of greatest pressure often precede the moments of greatest breakthrough. The mission doesn't end just because we get tired; the spark doesn't go out because the night grows darker. In fact, that is when our deepest strengths are revealed, the ones that don't depend on ease or validation, but on identity and purpose.

This is our call to action: when you feel the pressure growing, push harder. When the world grows dark, add more light. When people around you try to define you, define yourself by your purpose. Take one more step in goodness, do one more mitzvah, show one more act of compassion, invest in Jewish life and Jewish pride, and watch how G-d turns descent into ascent. Redemption doesn't arrive fully polished; it comes because we choose to move forward before the world "permits" us.

May we stay the course and see G-d's strength energizing us to keep pushing forward, knowing that our ascent out of this exile is just beyond the horizon and about to arrive, bringing healing and harmony for our people, our homeland, and our world.