Rabbi Mendy's Blog - Chabad Chai

One Sukkah. One Community. One Future. Let’s Build It Together!

Friday, September 25, 2026 - 4:18 PM

It feels harder than ever to bring people together. We live in a world that constantly reminds us of what the other person has that we don’t, what they believe that we don’t, and what separates “us” from “them.” We are divided by opinions, backgrounds, politics, religious observance, and countless labels. Sometimes even within the Jewish community, we can focus so much on our differences that we forget how much we share. So how do we overcome this? How do we create real unity without pretending that we are all the same?

The answer lies in the beauty of Sukkot, which we begin celebrating tonight. One of the holiday's central mitzvot is taking the Four Kinds: the etrog, lulav, hadassim, and aravot. Our sages explain that each represents a different kind of Jew, with different strengths, different levels of knowledge and observance, and different ways of connecting to G-d. Judaism doesn’t ask the etrog to become a lulav or the lulav to become an etrog. We bring them together precisely because they are different. Unity doesn’t mean uniformity. It means recognizing that each of us has something unique to contribute, and that we are stronger when we stand together.

Of course, that is easier said than done. It can be difficult to look past another person’s differences, their choices, or the things about them we may not understand, and instead see the beauty they possess and the positive quality they bring. The Sukkah itself carries the answer to this challenge and helps us move forward. The Sukkah doesn’t ask who you are before allowing you inside. Its walls surround everyone equally: the scholar and the beginner, the deeply observant and the Jew just beginning to explore, the young and the old. By bringing us all under one roof, the sukkah helps us move beyond the differences that can distract us and reminds us to see the spark, the goodness, and the value in every Jew. Perhaps that is the secret to bringing people together: build a structure of love that embraces everyone equally.

That is exactly what we are building with our new Chabad Chai Center. I think of it as our year-round sukkah, a hub for Jewish life where every Jew, every person, is warmly welcomed and loved exactly as they are. A place where Judaism thrives because we share it joyfully. A place where children, teens, young professionals, families, and seniors can each learn and grow at their own pace. We don’t have to be the same. We need a place that brings us together, reminds us we belong to one another, and empowers each of us to take another step forward.

This Sukkot, I invite you to help us build that sukkah together. Our goal is to bring our new Chabad Chai Center, our new home and hub for Jewish life, to reality this December, and every one of YOU can have a part in making that happen. Whatever your ability, whatever your level of participation, there is room for you in this sukkah. Join us, participate however you can, and help us build a Jewish home that will unite our community for generations to come. Visit www.chabadchaicenter.com/FUTURE and build your future. Many people. One community. One sukkah. One Jewish future.

We Can’t Leave It to Someone Else; It's ME, It's NOW

Friday, September 18, 2026 - 4:38 PM

As we begin a new year, many of us may look at the challenges facing the Jewish people and feel overwhelmed. Israel is under enormous pressure. Jew-hatred continues to rear its ugly head, and our communities everywhere are confronting uncertainty and fear. Perhaps a voice inside you says, "This is too much." Let me retreat into my own cocoon. Let me worry about my family, my work, my life, and leave the big problems to somebody else, or for some other time. Not me. Not now. Then Who?

The answer lies in this week's Torah portion, Haazinu. The Torah shares Moshe's final song to the Jewish people, delivered on the very day he would leave this world. After forty years of leading them, teaching them, fighting for them, and believing in them, what message did he want ringing in their ears after he was gone? Take responsibility. Your future is in your hands. Your choices matter. Remain faithful to who you are, live by the values of Torah, and you will endure. Abandon them, forget who you are, and the consequences will follow.

Moshe understood something profoundly human: when things go wrong, our instinct is often to look for someone to blame. The government. The leadership. The community. Shrink from responsibility and blame the other guy. But blame may explain our frustration; it rarely builds our future. Moshe's final message was that the Jewish people survive when Jews stop pointing fingers and start asking a different question: What can I do? Jewish history was never written by people waiting for somebody else to solve the problem. We wrote it by standing up and accepting responsibility.

That message could hardly be more relevant today. The Jewish people and our homeland, Israel, face serious challenges, and it is easy to feel that they are too large for any one of us to affect. But Moshe teaches us that our people's future is built through millions of individual choices. One more Jew standing proudly. One more mezuzah. One more Shabbat candle. One more child receiving a Jewish education. One more act of support for Israel. One more person showing up for their community instead of standing on the sidelines. We may not control every challenge confronting us, but we absolutely control how we respond.

So as we begin this new year, let's retire the words "not me" and "not now." The Jewish response must be: If not me, who? If not now, when? Choose one concrete action that strengthens your Judaism, your community, or our brothers and sisters in Israel—and do it. Don't wait for someone else to carry the Jewish future. Moshe's final song reminds us that the future has always depended on ordinary Jews deciding to take extraordinary responsibility. This year, let's answer the call: Me. And now.

When Logic Isn’t Enough, I Still Choose..

Friday, September 4, 2026 - 5:43 PM

Being Jewish is beautiful, but what about when it doesn't feel that way? When the "cons" that come with being Jewish seem to outweigh the pros? When the target on our backs, the burden we carry, and the instability and fear around us seem like too much to bear? It is easy to choose Jewish life when we feel its beauty and warmth, but what about when we don't? How do we march into a new year proudly and positively and once again choose Jewish life?

The answer lies in this week's Torah portion, Natzavim-Vayelech. G-d places before us a choice: "I have placed before you life and goodness, death and evil… and you shall choose life." Sometimes that choice is entirely rational. A life of Torah and mitzvot gives us meaning and purpose. It gives us a moral compass, a sense of belonging, a connection to generations before us and responsibility for generations yet to come. It brings holiness into ordinary moments and teaches us that our lives matter and that every action has purpose. There is tremendous fulfillment and, ultimately, deep happiness in choosing a Torah life.

But there are moments when that calculation becomes much harder. When the world is filled with instability, crisis, fear, and turmoil, living proudly as a Jew can seem to come at a cost. There are times when logic itself might ask: Why carry this burden? Why stand out? Why make life more complicated? And it is precisely then that we discover that our choice to live Jewishly was never based on logic alone. Something deeper lives inside us, a bond with G-d, our people, and our homeland, that is essential and fundamental to who we are. We don't merely practice Judaism; being Jewish is woven into the very essence of our soul. It's who we are.

That power has carried the Jewish people throughout history. Our ancestors did not always have the luxury of choosing Judaism because it was comfortable, convenient, or even rational. Through exile and persecution, through fear and uncertainty, they chose life. They chose Torah. They chose to raise Jewish children, light Shabbat candles, put on tefillin, celebrate the holidays, and proudly declare who they were. That choice came from a place deeper than calculation, from the essence of the Jewish soul. And remarkably, every time the world tried to convince us that Jewish life was impossible, that soul, our Neshamah, carried us forward.

As we approach Rosh Hashanah, we are once again called upon to "choose life." This year, perhaps more than ever, let's make that choice from the deepest place within us. Let's not retreat from our Jewishness because the world feels uncertain; let's lean into it. Add a mitzvah. Study more Torah. Fill your home with Jewish pride and your children with Jewish confidence. We have inherited a soul that has carried our people through thousands of years of trial and triumph. This Rosh Hashanah, let's reach into that soul, stand taller than ever, and choose life; choose to live proudly and unapologetically as Jews. Let's rise in unison, in support of each other, and proudly present ourselves before G-d as the nation we were created to be. Hashem will then bless us with a healthy, happy, and sweet new year. For us and all of humanity. Amen!