Rabbi Mendy's Blog

 Abraham a man challenged more then most, and the father of our people. How far would G-d go? and why? 

The answer lies in this week's Torah portion, Vayera. There, we learn about Abraham arguing with G-d to retract the destruction of Sodom and Gemorah. Avraham kept pushing and pushing until he finally accepted G-d's will. Why? So Abraham would know how far we must go to transform this world and fight for what's right. 

This is our mission, our purpose here on earth: to take the materialism of our world and redefine its existence, to reveal the true nature of G-d's creation. I know it's not easy, but it never has been for us, just as it was for Avraham. We have to know that we possess the same power our great-grandfather did: the power to transform. 

It's time we stopped selling ourselves short and started realizing our true power to elevate life as we know it and bring peace and harmony to our world by channeling the divine light through us into the whole wide world. 

Mission: Transform the world by first realizing your ultimate strength and that every challenge brings more of it to the world. 

 We all cherish and covet comfort as much as humanly possible. We will go to great lengths to cultivate and perpetuate it. I get it; we all do, however, the reality is that the pursuit of comfort can drive us to make choices out of line with who we are and what we believe. How do we balance this out? 

The answer lies in this week's Torah portion, Lech Lecha, where we learn about Avraham, the first Jew. Avraham wasn't called a Jew; he was called Ivri, or Hebrew, since we stood "M'ever" on the other side of the rest of the world. His faith was so strong he could share his beliefs with everyone he met without considering how popular they might be. He wasn't checking TikTok or Instagram; nothing else mattered if G-d asked him to fulfill a mission. 

This quality, this strength and conviction, was imparted to each of us, Abraham's spiritual progeny. To be one of the Jewish people is to be strong in the face of adversity. To have conviction in your beliefs, you can share anytime, anywhere, without any concerns for their popularity. If you're not comfortable being uncomfortable, then you're out of touch with your Jewish identity. If you constantly evaluate what other people think before you profess what you believe, then you're Jewishness is fading. 

Luckily, there's an easy fix. Just take a minute to recognize that people respect those who respect themselves. You weren't put on their earth to win a popularity contest; what kind of life is that anyways? Instead, you are here to live a meaningful and purposeful life, and all of your efforts and energies should be focused in that direction. It's time we followed the lead of the first Jew and started living for more than comfort, with the knowledge that the greatest comfort in the world is when you're fulfilling the reason G-d created you. Once you know that, nothing else matters, not even how popular your podcast is #iykyk :) 

Mission: Asses how much stock you put in the opinions of others. Align your life according to what G-d wants of you, and relieve yourself of the burden of social pressure. 

Ever wonder how people can be so incredible one minute, truly joyful, positive, and productive, seeking to only help others and nothing more? Then, a short while later, this same person is unrecognized as a selfish, egotistical, negative human being. How can one person exhibit such conflicting characteristics? 

The answer lies in this week's Torah portion, Noach. There, we learn about his tragic fall from grace, possibly one of the worst in human history. At the beginning of the Torah portion, we're told Noah was the only one of his generation to listen to G-d. For decades, he built an Ark according to G-d's directive. Noach did everything according to Hashem's commands and single-handedly saved humanity and the world as we know it. Yes, the same man at the end of the Parshah resists repopulating the world and gets drunk, ultimately exposing himself embarrassingly to his three sons.

The truth is that Noach, although a righteous man in his own right, failed as a leader. He resisted the opportunity to inspire others and help them improve their lives; his focus was only on his own spirituality and connection with G-d. Thus, once he faced serious obstacles and challenges from the flood, he stumbled and fell prey to his temptations. 

Noach failed to recognize one simple truth: leadership, although often challenging in the moment, strengthens us and empowers us to face the future no matter what it may bring. When we help others, we fortify our faith in the process. Often, the lack of focus on ourselves ultimately brings us the greatest success.

Mission: Become a leader, and you'll find strength in this current darkness you didn't know you had. 

Consistent or creative, which do you want? It's true they don't usually complement each other; in fact, they seem polar opposites. Consistent people stand firm, living with a discipline that allows them to maintain their way of life no matter what's going on. Creative people constantly reinvent themselves and find new ways to develop and grow. So, how could I possibly be both?

The answer lies in this week's Torah double portion, Netzavim-Vayelech. The two names themselves represent both characteristics. Netzavim means standing and reflects the Jewish people standing together in front of G-d on Rosh Hashanah. While Vayelech means "and he went," a powerful reminder of the progress we seek in our lives as a new year beckons.

The secret to combining both is acknowledging that life isn't about our personal fulfillment but rather doing whatever is necessary to complete and fulfill our mission in this world. When we transfer our focus from our achievement and achievement to the task at hand, the question of my personal style is no longer consequential. Life begins to revolve around one simple question: what must I do in this moment to connect with my creator and channel the divine will into this world? Which choice will improve the world around me and bring the peace and serenity we, the Jewish people, have been striving, yearning, fighting, and, when necessary, dying for?

As we prepare to welcome the New Year on Rosh Hashanah, let each of us redouble our commitment to the mission we all share and our individual assignments. Let us move past our creature comforts and obsession with self to truly think about others and what we can do to help. Let us carry the responsibility for our people and our world together, shoulder to shoulder, and together we will win! Beyachad Nenatzeiach!

Mission: The joy of Rosh Hashanah comes from refocusing less on yourself and more on your mission and your community. Dedicate more time to your G-d given assignments, and you'll be able to stand strong while growing into the best version of yourself! 

 "Religious" the word is taboo in some circles and, at the very least, intimidating to most people. It tends to conjure up images of "holier than thou" people who spend their days wrapped in prayer and piety while looking down on the rest of the "heathen" society. How, then, should we consider this time on introspection just before Rosh Hashanah, our New Year? What should we aspire to if being "religious" seems entirely out of reach and frankly less than desirable? 

The answer lies in this week's Torah portion Ki Tavo. There, we learn about the Mitzvah Bikurim; a farmer working in the field would bring their first fruits to the Temple in appreciation for G-d's blessing and offer them as a gift to the Kohen. This Mitzvah was a pivotal moment in the life of a Biblical Jew, and yet the Mitzvah centered around their work in the field/farm/orchard. It was there the Torah says they felt G-d's blessing more than anywhere else; for that reason, these fruits symbolized their gratitude for G-d's presence in their lives. The lesson is a fundamental truth of Jewish life; being religious is less about spending all day in a synagogue and more about feeling G-d's presence throughout your life, especially when you are immersed in this material physical world, such as a farmer working the land. 

This same principle can be seen in the parable used to highlight the importance of our current Hebrew month, Elul, which proceeds Rosh Hashanah. The first Chabad Rebbe explained this particular time of the year with the following allegory: Imagine a King who lives in a palace and usually can only be seen by a small group of elite citizens or after a lengthy approval process. However, this month before the New Year, the king leaves his palace and comes out to meet the farmers in the field, joyfully greeting each one. This fantastic example helps us understand that G-d is more present and accessible this month than the rest of the year and can be found in the field, the most physical elements of our world. 

Being something different from who you are is a terrifying idea; no wonder people are so terrified of becoming "religious." But the truth is G-d's coming out to greet you as you are; all you need to do is welcome Hashem's presence in your life. As we prepare to welcome a new year, let's consider what a new version of ourselves might look like. Don't get hung up on labels, "religious" or any other. Instead, focus on allowing Hashem's presence in your life, and as you begin to live with that divine energy, you will naturally start to ask the question, what does G-d want me to do in this moment? When you recognize Hashem loves you and wants to connect with you, you'll become the true definition of "religious," a conduit of divine light illuminating our world. 

Mission: Use this special moment in time to welcome G-d into your life; Hashem is more accessible now and will gladly meet you exactly where and as you are. 

 The body has a mind of its own. It wants what it wants, and its strong will to fulfill its desires can be overwhelming at times. How do we manage to listen to the soul, find the discipline necessary to curb the body's appetite, and resist giving into each of its cravings? How do we elevate our lives above the materialistic goal of self-gratification and self-preservation? 

The answer lies in this week's Torah portion, Ki Teiztei. There, we learn the directive, "Do not see your fellow's donkey or his ox fallen on the road and ignore it. Help him lift it up." Now, this Mitzvah might seem familiar since a different iteration was introduced to us in the book of Exodus. That one was different since it related to helping your enemy, but this week's seems redundant since if you have to help your enemy's donkey, you should definitely assist your fellow. 

The truth is that your fellow's donkey might not just be another person's animal trotting down the road; it might be the animal inside of you. Each of us grapples with our animalistic tendencies; it's not an aberration G-d created us this way. The challenge is to reframe our perspective and stop seeing our animal as an enemy that needs to be destroyed but rather as a fellow who needs to be guided towards a better path. When we stop trying to slay our animal and instead seek to work with it, it becomes more amenable to serving a power greater than itself. 

Let's stop living with guilt and shame over our cravings and desires and invite our animal soul to the table. Let's recognize that these passions, when properly refocused, can become an amazing source of energy and enthusiasm in the service of G-d and humanity. Each of us is a beautiful creation in the divine image, both our body and our soul. When we bring the two together, they become an unstoppable team and the ultimate force for good. 

Mission: Acknowledge your animalistic desires and their hold on you. Begin talking to your animal in a kind way, and he/she will become more receptive. Then, together, you can really grow onward and upward. 

 It has been a week of grief, a week of pain, a week of mourning. So many thoughts and feelings are pulsing through our veins this week; it is overwhelming and even paralyzing. How do we stay strong and resolute? How do we find the courage to push forward and not crumble under the weight of our emotions? If that's not enough to deal with, we seem to be alone on an island, with no one in the world empathetic to our plight. 

The answer lies in this week's Torah portion Shoftim. There, we learn about how we wage war against an enemy. The Torah says anyone faint of heart should return to their home because you can't be victorious if you're afraid. So severe is this directive that a statement was declared at the start of every battle asking them to go home. Any weakness in our resolve and determination would spell disaster and defeat, so everyone had to be 100% confident in their ultimate success. Where did this resolve come from? How was it possible in the face of ruthless enemies without respect for human life? The answer was and remains simple: remember how you got here. G-d redeemed you from Egypt, brought you to Israel, and made you the nation you are today. If you keep this fundamental truth in the forefront of your mind, even when we face painful moments, they won't destroy us; our faith will carry us onward and upward.  

Our dear brothers and sisters who've been held hostage have demonstrated incredible faith and courage in the most hellish environments. We owe it to them to keep fighting and standing tall for the truth, light, and love. We must not back down for a moment. Now more than ever, we will show the world the true power of a Jewish person and why we've survived for thousands of years. 

Let the memory of our holy brother and sisters inspire us to live more proudly and joyfully Jewish than ever before, and may G-d avenge their deaths and bring comfort to their families, and may we soon see the culmination of all our prayers with the coming Moshiach speedily, Amen!

Mission: Remember them, live for them, and fight for the truth for them. Join us for our "Israel - What Do We Do" event next week to learn more. 

 I am back from my trip to Israel, and it was amazing! While there will be time to discuss the trip in detail with you, suffice it to say it was tough to leave. So many wonder how I can so enthusiastically take my family to Israel at this time. The lack of Americans traveling to Israel this summer, which is characteristically overflowing with visitors, tells me this perspective is unfortunately widespread. So, how do I respond? 

The answer lies in this week's Torah portion, Re'eh. There, Moshe continues his address to the Jewish people, emphasizing the importance of the land of Israel, which will serve as a place of joy and jubilation for them. Did Moshe not know what was to come in the future? Had he not prophesized of the death and destruction that would come to pass when the Jewish people failed to heed G-d's word? 

The answer lies in the word Simcha and its essential role in Jewish life. Simcha means joy, not happiness, which is a personal feeling but joy, something only felt when celebrated with others. The Jewish people are told throughout the Book of Devarim of the importance of joy in our service to G-d. Why? Joy isn't the absence of pain and suffering but rather the knowledge that through connection, I can overcome anything, no obstacle can stand in my way, and no tragedy can destroy me because I am more than just one person. I am a part of the Jewish people, and we're all directly connected to our creator. This is the Jewish people's story and why Simcha, joy, is critical to our survival and success. 

Now, you might understand what Moshe meant when he foretold that Israel would be the ultimate source of Joy for the Jewish people—not despite the painful tragedies she should experience but because of them. Israel, more than any other place in the world, is a source of joy because there, one can feel the ultimate sense of connection to our divine creator and each other, our Mishpacha. For this reason, the people of Israel continue to be joyful, hopeful, resilient, and strong in the face of unimaginable tragedy. The land fosters a connection and a joy that can overcome anything. 

When Dina and I decided to take our family to Israel this summer, we hoped our children might feel this joy, and we were overjoyed that they did. Yes, we were confronted with many painful, sad, heartbreaking moments, but through it all, we felt joy! Now, we come back to Tampa overflowing with love for our people and our homeland and a simple message. Go! Go to Israel and feel the joy; bring your love and support for the land and its people, and you will be rewarded with unbridled Simcha like nowhere else on earth. 

Mission: Get Joyful. Get connected. Get to Israel.

 Humans are intrinsically very independent; we crave the freedom to do things independently, fueling our development and growth. Yet, when times are tough, we must acknowledge that we can't control what happens around us. This realization can be pretty jarring. How do we make sense of this dichotomy? How do we harness the human drive while at the same time accepting our limitations?

The answer lies in this week's Torah portion Eikev, where we learn the second chapter of the most fundamental Jewish prayer, Shema. In contrast to the first paragraph of Shema, which we learned in last week's Torah portion, the second stanza makes some critical changes. We are taught the concept of reward and punishment should we fail to follow G-d's directives. Additionally, the Torah addresses us collectively as a people rather than individually as a person. These nuanced modifications tell us that the two paragraphs are elementally different and essential to connecting with Hashem and living Jewishly. The first step of the Shema highlights the greatest gift that G-d gives us: the ability to transcend our own finite existence and channel the infinite into our lives. This week, the second paragraph highlights the importance of our contribution to the relationship and our willingness to earn the connection to the almighty by overcoming challenges and elevating ourselves through hard work. That is why this week's section introduces reward and punishment, which can only be earned, not gifted. Ultimately, both sections come together in one prayer as a guide to living the ultimate Jewish life.

A person of faith must recognize that first and foremost, G-d runs the world, and what needs to happen ultimately will come to fruition according to Hashem's infinite plan. Then, that same person must embrace that G-d empowered us to be active partners in this process through the choices we make and the actions we take. Thus, reward and punishment are based on doing as much as possible to complete the mission we've been given while knowing that G-d will ensure it gets done even if we forget our responsibilities.

As I prepare to welcome my second Shabbat in Israel, I am amazed by the incredible strength of her people, our people, the Jewish people. Our ability to keep pushing forward no matter the challenges we face stems from knowing that Hashem is behind everything and lovingly allowing us to partner in creation. All we must do is our part, and the rest G-d will bequeath our world, bringing us to the ultimate reward of Moshaich with peace and harmony for all.

Mission: Do all you can to complete your mission, knowing that the ability to participate in world development is a gift from G-d. Suddenly, your challenges will feel more like a blessing and less like a curse.

 To live as a Jew isn't easy. It's not a secret; no matter where you are, there's a target on your back. Living with this kind of angst isn't easy and can drain you of a desire to live Jewishly. For our children, this challenge is even more significant. Many of them have grown up without ever being confronted by this horror, and the new reality we all now face threatens to drive them away from actively participating in Jewish life. How do we face this threat head-on?

The answer lies in this week's Torah portion, V'eschanan. The Torah continues telling us about Moshe's last speech to the Jewish people before his death and their entrance to the land of Israel. Moshe pauses from telling them how to live Jewishly by observing the Torah and Mitzvot and begins telling them why we must live Jewishly and why our mission is essential to the world. To highlight our relationship with our creator and channel the divine presence into our world through every action we take. This remains our raison d'etre, our why.

To maintain our Jewish identity in today's climate and grow stronger rather than weaker from the adversity we face, we must share not only the what of Judaism but the why of Jewish life. This is the only way to overcome fear and find joy despite our obstacles.

As I prepare to celebrate Shabbat in Jerusalem, I am reminded of the why of the Jewish people. No matter what the world may say about the dangers we face, the Jewish people, and especially the people of Israel, are living and loving even more than before. The overwhelming feeling of faith in G-d and faith in each other is inspiring and can only be explained as a testament to the unique relationship with Hashem we have cherished over thousands of years.

Now is the time to remind ourselves not only what makes us unique but also why and how essential this mission is in the face of the incredible darkness surrounding us. Tonight, as I stand at the Kotel, I will pray for you and your families, our people, and our homeland. I will pray for true peace, lasting peace for all people everywhere. Then I will dance joyfully, knowing that G-d has placed me here on earth to be a light unto nations, and I feel honored to do so in spite of the target it may put on my back. I hope you'll join me in dancing and spreading the joy of Jewish life.

Mission: Learn the what of Jewish life and the why, and start living Jewish joyfully!

 How can we help each other improve and move our lives forward in a world so divided? How can we hope to overcome the external challenges we face if we cannot work with each other internally? 

The answer lies in this week's Torah portion, Devarim, where Moshe begins his last address to the Jewish people just before his passing and their entrance into the land of Israel. Moshe's last testament fills almost the entire fifth book of the Chumash and, at times, reads as a stern rebuke of the Jewish people's forty-year journey through the desert. How is it that they were willing to accept such harsh words from Moshe without becoming defensive and resistant, as humans often are? The answer lies in a strange word and its associated commentary. The Torah tells us that Moshe began his critique next to a place called Di Zahav, which translates as "enough gold." This name stems from the fact that Moshe argued with G-d that the golden calf wasn't entirely the fault of the Jewish people since Hashem had provided them with an excess of gold when they departed Egypt. Indeed, this narrative is indicative of Moshe's leadership, constantly defending his people and asking G-d to judge them favorably. Time and again, they sinned, and time and again, Moshe stood up for them and begged Hashem for mercy. 

This is why they were so receptive to his brutally honest review of their sojourn in the desert. They knew it came from a place of love and respect and was born out of a pure desire to see them improve and grow into the nation they were destined to be. 

We, too, must learn from Moshe's example and establish a foundation of love without judgment of one another. This transformative power of love and respect, when nurtured, can inspire hope and bring about positive change. Only then will people be receptive to your encouragement and guidance. We are rushing to correct each other before we acknowledge the true beauty and value that lies within each of us, our Neshama, our divine soul. Once we reveal and celebrate this unifying light, we can genuinely help others and be helped by others without any reluctance, concern, or hesitation. 

As we prepare to celebrate Tisha B'av this Monday evening and Tuesday, a day when our Temples were destroyed because of senseless hatred, let us resolve to pause incriminating each other and work on loving each other unconditionally. And don't worry about your criticisms; if they reappear from a place of love, they will be more effective, and if you forget them, they probably weren't that accurate to begin with.

Mission: Stop criticizing and show some love. You'll be shocked at how receptive people become. 

 Life is a journey, not a destination. That sounds great, but sometimes you get tired of constantly traveling and just want to be home. That's the way our people have felt for thousands of years. As I prepare to travel to Israel, our homeland, together with my family and members of our community, I feel the pull, the longing to end the journey and finally arrive at the destination, to live in peace in our homeland in a world that celebrates the divine. So, how do we keep the drive going? How do we motivate ourselves to maintain the course? 

The answer lies in this week's double Torah portion, Maatos-Masai. There, we learn about the various stops of the Jewish people over their forty-year journey from Egypt to the promised land. Each encampment was essential to the nation's maturation process and taught the future generation a lesson they would need for inhabiting the promised land and realizing their destiny as a light unto nations. This is why the Torah says it was one long journey, not forty-nine journeys, since each step was a necessary part of their growth and eventually brought them exactly where they needed to be. 

We, too, are on a collective journey as the Jewish people and individually, each in our way. While the road has been long and tiring, we can see the horizon in the distance. Our nation settled peacefully in our homeland. Yes, we face a few more obstacles in our path, but we are so close to bringing Moshiach that we must strengthen our resolve and push ourselves to get it done. The promised land is in sight; it's time we rally together to support each other and finally finish off this exile of thousands of years by bringing peace and harmony to the entire world. 

Mission: We are close to completing the journey. Let's motivate each other to overcome the last few obstacles and bring peace and harmony to the world. 

 Where is your passion? The answer to that question speaks volumes about who you are. While we often do various things and wear many different hats, our passion uniquely reveals our essence. So, while many in our community might say they're proud of being Jewish, the truth can be seen in how they live their lives. Their willingness to take action even when others won't is the true expression of our passion, our core. 

This week's Torah portion, Pinchas, emphasizes the importance of action. We learn about Pinchas, a man who took action when others froze because, as the Torah says, "he was passionate" about his faith in G-d and G-d's Torah. While others claimed to care about upholding Jewish faith and tradition, he demonstrated commitment through his swift response to the events around him. Pinchas knew that talk is cheap, and a passion for Jewish life meant being bold when others failed to do so. 

Today, we are in a crisis, with challenges threatening our homeland and our people worldwide. We are being asked to step up and take action when so many seem set against us. How we respond to this moment will determine how passionate we are about our Jewish identity and the survival and success of Jewish life. 

Talk is cheap, and actions speak louder than words. So each of us must ask ourselves and demand of ourselves to step up and show the world the integrity, joy, and pride in who we are. The beauty of passion is that it's contagious, so let's reveal it within ourselves and watch it spread to others. 

Mission: Reveal your true passion for your Jewish identity by acting even when others won't. Then, let your passion ignite others.