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Rabbi Mendy's Blog

A weekly exploration into the Torah's lessons for life

You might feel far away, but it's like you never left

We find ourselves glued to the news, waiting with bated breath, hoping and praying for military success and the obliteration of the Iranian regime whose stated principle is the destruction of Israel and annihilation of our people. But we find ourselves thousands of miles away; what can we do to help? 

The answer lies in this week's Torah portion Behaaloscha. There, we learn about the Mitzvah of "Second Passover." A year after the Exodus from Egypt, Moses is confronted by a group of people who missed the opportunity to bring the Passover sacrifice on Passover evening. They lament their misfortune and ask for a second chance to get this once-a-year offering. Moshe, in turn, asks Hashem and is introduced to a new tradition, known as the "second Passover," to be held thirty days after the first one, on which anyone who missed bringing the sacrifice is afforded a second chance. 

A closer examination of the dialogue reveals that G-d's response extended beyond Moshe's request. Moses asked for a second chance for ritually impure people, a condition often due to no fault of his own. Understandably, these people might deserve another crack at this Mitzvah. But G-d extends the opportunity to those who took a trip away from the camp and, with poor planning, missed Passover. You might think these people were far away and therefore forfeited the chance to support their people and experience Passover at the Temple. You'd be wrong. Though you may have been far physically, you are and always will be inextricably connected to your people, so here's a second chance to reconnect with them. 

For many of us, we love Israel but can often feel disconnected from what is transpiring halfway around the globe. Perhaps in the past, we neglected to fully support our homeland. No matter what our previous behaviors, even if we allowed ourselves to become far emotionally and intellectually from Israel, we are still united with each other and with our homeland. Today, we are being given a second chance to show our love for our Holyland by doing an extra Mitzvah, saying a prayer, and advocating for our brothers and sisters. Now, we have a second chance to be strong, proud, and bright as we redouble our efforts to banish darkness and illuminate our world. 

G-d is telling us that distance doesn't matter; no matter how far you've been, it's time for you to come back home. Your people and your homeland need you now. We're one; together, we will overcome this evil just as we've done so many times before.

It's not everyone's G-d, it's MY G-d

One of our challenges today is making religion feel relevant and personally meaningful. It's easy to see Torah and mitzvot as distant, rigid rules or ancient customs meant for people in a very different time. Sometimes, it can feel like we're just going through the motions, doing things because we're supposed to rather than because we truly feel connected. 

 The answer to this dilemma lies at the heart of Judaism and is something profoundly personal: I need to have a relationship with my G-d.

Not just "G-d," in an abstract or general sense, but my G-d - who created me, knows me, loves me, and wants to have a relationship with me. This shift in perspective changes everything. It's no longer about checking boxes or fitting into a mold. It's about building a connection and nurturing a bond that is unique and alive. Like any relationship, it takes effort, communication, and presence, but it's also deeply rewarding and real.

This idea is powerfully reflected in this week's Torah portion Naso, in the Priestly Blessing: "Yevarechecha Hashem v'yishmerecha..." – "May Hashem bless you and guard you..." "Ya'er Hashem panav eilecha..." – "May Hashem shine His face toward you..." "Yisa Hashem panav eilecha v'yasem lecha shalom." – "May Hashem lift His face to you and grant you peace."

Notice how the blessing is phrased in the singular you, not you all. It's intimate and individual. G-d isn't blessing the Jewish people as a collective at this moment; He's turning to each one of us personally. When we realize this, religion stops being something we have to do and starts becoming something we're honored to do. It becomes a relationship that empowers, comforts, and guides us. Torah and mitzvot become the language of love between us and G-d—not a burden, but a bridge. 

So the next time you feel like G-d or Judaism is far away, remember the Priestly Blessing. It's not just a beautiful set of words—it's a message from your Creator, saying: I see you. I bless you. I'm here for you. Now it's time for us to respond and say thank you, Hashem; I love you too! 

I've got so much trauma, how can I move forward?

I am a product of trauma. Each of us, without fail, can probably look back on our lives and find a traumatic experience that has helped shape who we are today. Especially in our early years on earth, we can all find moments where we were more or less traumatized by the actions of others. How can we possibly move beyond this caricature and build a bright, beautiful future for ourselves and our world? After all, I am where I come from.

The answer lies in this week's torah portion, Bamidbar, which we read just before the start of Shavuot on Sunday evening. Bamidbar means in the desert, and of course, Shavuot celebrates the day we received the Torah on Mt. Sinai. The question is posed by many: why the desert? Is there no better place to give the Jewish people the Torah? Let's consider the desert; it's a place where people do not dwell. Not only can people not dwell there, but seemingly nothing can, including what you might assume is spirituality. G-d, therefore, transforms our worldview by specifically choosing the desert as the scene for the giving of the Torah to tell us that its divine wisdom is always accessible no matter who you are, where you are, or where you've come from.

This idea is cemented by the lives of three Jewish luminaries, some of the greatest that ever lived, and their connection to the holiday of Shavuot. Moshe, who brought the Torah down the mountain on this day; King David, who was born and passed on this day; and the Baal Shemtov, who passed on Shavuot. Each of these giants grew up in traumatic, even tragic circumstances; though different one from the next, they were all tested tremendously at a very young age. Yet, through the study of Torah, they were able to move forward informed by their early challenges but not defined by them.

The availability of Torah to all people, at all times and in all places, enables us to transcend the limitations of nature and nurture, propelling ourselves forward to reach greater and greater heights. Yes, we are where we come from, but we can be so much more if we're only willing to climb the divine ladder of Jewish life.

 Mission: Start learning more Torah on your own, in a class, or with a partner; it doesn't matter what you learn, only that you learn. Watch your worldview transform through the gift of a divine lens.

Exile is real; we all feel it, now let us fight it.

We were exiled from our homeland over 2,000 years ago. So what? Why is that such a challenge that we hope and pray multiple times a day that we return to the land of Israel? It would seem that after much pain and persecution, we've finally managed to build a life for ourselves in our newly adopted countries, so why does the focus remain on our dispersion across the world?

The answer lies in this week's double Torah portion, Behar-Bechukosai. There, we learn about the calamity that will befall us if we fail to heed G-d's word. One of the eventual consequences is that we will be exiled and subsequently cause each other to stumble. You might ask about the connection between these two outcomes. The Sifra commentary gives a simple answer: we, the Jewish people, are collectively responsible for each other, and therefore, when we're exiled and spread apart, we can no longer support each other, and thus, when we stumble, no one is there to catch us and break our fall.

This lack of cohesion because of our physical distance from one community, one person to the next, threatens our survival as it increases the difficulty of supporting each other. That is why our return and reunification in Israel are so essential to our people, so we can once again provide the support each of us needs to rise above the difficulty and the darkness of the day and shine our light across the globe.

We hope and pray that day comes now, but until it does, rest assured, Chabad Centers worldwide will do everything we can to keep us connected and support each other in any way we can.

Yesterday, the darkness of our world reared its ugly face once again, taking the lives of two special souls, Yaron and Sarah. In these moments, we may feel angry, frustrated, and fearful, but let us remember that no evil can ever destroy our spirit when we stick together. They can try to pick us apart, but as these two luminaries showed through the life they led, we will never stop living, never stop loving, and never stop shining. Tonight, we light Shabbat candles across the globe and commit to connecting and supporting each other more than ever before.

Mission: Light your candles tonight, and hold them high. Then, resolve to connect and support your Jewish family wherever you are. What can you do to strengthen your community?

Why can't we just get along? It's this simple

Why is it so hard for us to get along? We know that disunity has plagued our people for thousands of years and caused more destruction than any of our enemies; in fact, Lag B'omer, which is today, commemorates the end of Rabbi Akiva's students dying from a plague as a consequence of their disrespect for one another. Considering everything we've faced in the past, why haven't we learned our lesson and learned to love each other?

People will tell you that it's because of the choices others make, because of their faults, their shortcomings, their mistakes. The truth is it's a lie; we all have shortcomings, faults, and mistakes, and somehow we manage to continue loving ourselves. Why? We choose to see the good in ourselves even though we know there's another side to our story. The answer to our age-old challenge lies in this week's Torah portion, Emor. The Torah tells us to speak softly and remind those who may have faltered momentarily that your past mistakes do not define you; you are Bnei Aharon, the sons of Aaron, the High Priest. You are royalty, a prestigious nation, and one deserving of kindness, love, and respect, no matter the path you've taken previously. If we could only remember this simple truth, then we'd be marching forward confidently united in our mission of illuminating the world and banishing the darkness.

Today is a day to resolve and take action to unify our people. Hinei Ma Tov Uma Naim Sheves Achim Gam Yachad. Call a friend, extend a hand, host a Shabbat dinner, support your community. Together we will rise and bring peace and harmony to our world with the coming of Moshaich speedily, amen!

How can I love them if I have hate in my heart?

Hatred is rampant in our world; no matter where you look, people are at each other's throats, and division in our world grows stronger every day. We know the golden rule, "love thy neighbor as thyself," which is in this week's Torah portion. However, I can't change how I feel. Should I just pretend to like them?

The answer indeed lies in this week's Torah portion Acharei Mos - Kedoshim. There, we learn the commandment "you shall not hate your fellow in your heart." We can clearly see that faking it isn't the advocated path; instead, we are told to address our underlying feelings and the way we feel. This can only be done if we properly address our feelings and communicate with our fellow. I know it is difficult and uncomfortable to talk and share what's bothering us with the other person, but the Torah tells us that we're all responsible for each other. Therefore, we must do whatever is necessary to address our feelings and remove the hate we carry to truly love one another like ourselves.

Nobody said it was easy, but the path set for us by G-d is to model this behaviour for the world. If we fail to do so, the world will continue to devolve into a self-consuming society of division and hatred, leading to our eventual destruction. Relationships among humans can be challenging, as G-d created each of us with our own unique perspective. It's hard to see the world any other way. Yet, we know that our future will depend on our ability to work together to achieve our shared mission of making this world a home for the Almighty. So, put down your phone and stop tweeting, posting, commenting, and chatting. Instead, talk directly to him/her. Tell them how you feel respectfully, and listen to them do the same. It might take a moment, but in short order, you will begin to see them as your fellow, as another person with a G-dly soul on their own journey through life. You might be shocked to find that the person you once hated, you now love.

Mission: You can't allow hatred to fester in your heart, so when it starts to sprout, compel yourself to have the tough conversation with your fellow and cleanse the poison from your midst so love can grow again.

Who cares, it's just words, right?

Words might seem innocuous and insignificant; after all, they're just words. So why does the Torah make such a big deal out of Lashon Horah speaking badly about someone else?

The answer lies in this week's double Torah portion Taazria-Metzorah. There, we learn about the consequences of speaking Lashon Hora, a skin affliction called Tzoraas. Once diagnosed with this condition by a Kohen, the individual would have to leave the Jewish camp for a week, living in isolation as they reflected on their actions. The harshness of the punishment reflected the severity of the action. In fact, the Torah likens it to murder, not of one person but three: The teller, the listener, and the subject person. Why so serious? They're only words.

A simple review of our history is shocking; how have we survived so many attempts at annihilation? The answer is simple: our faith in Hashem and the strength of our community. Alone, facing the adversity that surrounds us, survival would be impossible, but together, we are indestructible. This explains the severity of Lashon Horah as it pulls people apart and sows disunity among our people. These negative words might seem inconsequential, but they're not; they can lead to our destruction.

As we, the Jewish people, face unique challenges today in Israel and around the world, we must recognize that united we stand and divided we fall. We might like to believe that we're all individuals and need only concern ourselves with our own well-being, but the truth is we are all interconnected, one extended family. No matter how different we might be on the surface and the unique particulars of our lives, we share a destiny. It's time we embraced each other and used our words to lift one another, strengthening the bonds that unite us and securing a bright and beautiful future for Am Yisroel.

Mission: This week, you might be tempted to speak badly about another person; before you do pause and consider the effect your words will have to either unite or divide. Choose words that connect and secure a better future for all of us.

Do you want to live the life they're offering, or do you want something more?

This world is tough; it is unrelenting and all-consuming. Our society seeks to define us by its materialistic standards and compels us into an unwinnable rat race. The anxiety we develop as a result is to be expected; it's no wonder we struggle to gain control of our lives and redirect our thoughts, speech, and actions. So how do we do it? 

The answer lies in this week's Torah portion, Shemini, and our current Hebrew month, Nissan. The Torah tells us about the importance of the Mitzvah of Kosher eating, not because of its health qualities, but because it helps us redefine ourselves, not by the world's standards, but by divine wisdom. We eat differently because we want to live differently, focused not merely on our own existence and gratification but on a greater purpose to improve ourselves and refine the world around us.

This is also reflected in the word "Nissan," which means miraculous miracles. The month of Passover, when we were liberated from Egypt, beckons us not to live by natural means, by order of the world, but to reach for higher and follow Hashem's plan for each of us. When we do, we become insulated from the "influence' of others and undaunted by the obstacles that appear because we no longer operate by the mechanisms of a materialistic society.

As we transition from Passover to Shavuot, the next holiday commemorating the Torah's giving on Mt. Sinai, we must choose. Do we want the "normal" life our world offers, or do we want something more, a life of meaning and purpose? It's time we raised ourselves to the level Hashem chose us to be.

Mission:  Reject a mediocre life defined by materialistic standards; adopt a divine path, and enjoy a newfound enthusiasm for life. 

The final frontier, there's no way to get there but through

As we enter into the final days of Pesach, we are invited not just to commemorate history but to live it. The seventh and eighth days of Passover are not just bookends to a week of matzah, eggs, and potatoes; they are spiritual touchstones, each carrying a unique energy that speaks directly to our lives today.

The seventh day of Pesach marks the miraculous splitting of the Red Sea. It wasn't just a geographical escape route but a personal transformation. The Israelites stood at the edge of the impossible, with Pharaoh behind them and the sea in front. And then, miraculously, the sea split.

We all have our own "sea moments"—situations where the pressure builds, the path seems blocked, and fear starts to rise. But just like at the Red Sea, the breakthrough often comes when we move forward in faith. According to the Midrash, only when Nachshon ben Aminadav stepped into the water did the sea split. Sometimes the miracle doesn't come before the courage—it comes because of it. The seventh day of Pesach reminds us that Hashem doesn't just remove obstacles—He transforms them into pathways. But we must take that first step.

So ask yourself: What is the "sea" I'm facing? What fear, habit, or doubt has hemmed me in? And what might it look like to take one bold step forward?

Outside of Israel, we celebrate an eighth day of Pesach—a day that Chassidic tradition especially associates with the coming of Moshiach. Known as Acharon Shel Pesach, it's not just about remembering the redemption from Egypt—it's about anticipating the ultimate redemption and beginning to live with that consciousness now.

This day invites us to ask: What would life look like if I truly believed that the world was on its way to healing, to peace, to unity? How would I speak? How would I act? What kind of hope would I carry in my heart?

Moshiach mindset doesn't wait for the world to change before it starts acting differently. It lives as though redemption is already unfolding—and in doing so, it helps bring it closer.

There's a beautiful arc here: The seventh day of Pesach is about breaking through our limitations. The eighth day is about becoming the kind of people who live beyond them. We move from surviving the sea to envisioning the future. Fromreacting to circumstances to radiating purpose.

May these holy days bring you the strength to split the sea before you—and the vision to live with faith, joy, and a redemptive spirit every day after.

Mission:  As the sea once split, take one bold step forward in your life—past fear, toward growth. And as we envision a better world, live today with hope, purpose, and the belief that your actions help shape tomorrow.

We're not a free people, not yet

As spring breathes new life into the world, the Jewish calendar brings us to Pesach, the Festival of Freedom. At first glance, it's a historical commemoration: the miraculous exodus of the Israelites from slavery in Egypt. But Pesach is not just about what happened—it's about what happens, year after year, inside of us.

Every detail of the Passover story is rich with symbolism. Egypt—Mitzrayim in Hebrew—shares its root with meitzarim, meaning narrow places. Egypt isn't just a location on a map; it's the embodiment of constriction, of limitation, of being stuck. And just as Pharaoh's rule once confined the Israelites, we, too, find ourselves constrained—by fears, habits, toxic patterns, and limiting beliefs that enslave us in our day-to-day lives.

The beauty of Pesach lies in its dual message: liberation from without and liberation from within. The external story of leaving slavery is powerful, but it serves as a mirror to our inner journeys. What parts of our lives are holding us back? What "Pharaohs" do we listen to—those voices that tell us we're not good enough, not ready, not deserving?

Pesach invites us to ask bold questions at the Seder table but also quietly within. It challenges us to lean into discomfort, to taste the bitterness of our struggles (maror), and also to celebrate our growth with joy (charoset). It reminds us that redemption often begins with a small, trembling step into the unknown—just like our ancestors stepping into the Red Sea before it parted.

The holiday teaches that freedom is not a one-time event but a process. Every year, we're offered the opportunity to shed a layer, to walk out of our personal Egypts with a renewed sense of purpose, clarity, and openness.

So this Pesach, as we gather with family or reflect alone, let's not just recount the ancient story—let's live it. Let's examine our own lives: What are the "narrow places" we need to break free from? What parts of ourselves are waiting to be liberated?

True freedom is not just about breaking chains; it's about discovering who we are when limitations no longer bind us so we can be the best version of ourselves, the person G-d destined us to be.

Mission: Break Free, let the Seder inspire your journey forward to a better version of yourself. 

sacrifice is hard, but it's the choice that means the most

Humans like choice, and boy, do we have choices today. The world's advanced connectivity and digitalization have created an environment that caters to our every whim. With so many options at our disposal, why does humanity seem so insecure rather than empowered? 

The answer lies in this week's Torah portion, Vayikra. G-d tells Moshe to offer the Jewish people an opportunity, a real choice, to transcend a menial physical existence and get closer to Hashem. "When a person will offer from themselves a sacrifice to G-d." The Korban, or sacrifice, represents someone giving their resources to a higher purpose and, through this action, redefining their raison d'etre as something more than material pleasures. This choice stands in stark contrast to the myriad of options you have at the ice cream store. While Tequila Sunrise and Mac and Freeze might be incredible flavors to try, they won't be life-changing events no matter what the marketing might say. On the other hand, if you sacrifice some of your comforts to help others and to live more Jewishly, you will find yourself strengthened to live life not restricted and encumbered by what society says but instead empowered to be the person G-d destined you to be. 

Not all choices are equal, and not all of them move your life forward. We need to use the Torah as our guide to determine which ones matter and which ones not as much. Let's stop stressing over the small ones and start embracing the big ones. While sacrifice can be challenging at the moment, it is an incredible gift of empowerment, allowing us to transcend the limitation of our physical world and channel divine energy as a light unto nations. 

Mission: Stop stressing over meaningless choices, and embrace the tough ones that demand sacrifice. When you start to feel it in your gut, you'll know you're getting closer to the divine. 

The devil or the divine, which is it?

Why a Temple? Why spend all of this time and resources building a Temple for the Jewish people in the desert? How did this solve anything? 

Before I answer, it's funny how the stories and traditions in Judaism that seem the most arcane and Achaic are the ones most relevant to life today. The Torah details the specific measurements of the Mishkan multiple times; you might think it's overkill; after all, this is a spiritual home for Hashem. Who cares if the vessels and tapestries are an inch bigger or smaller? It's the thought that counts. However, a deeper understanding of the Mishkan's purpose clarifies its specificity. The Tabernacle represented the ultimate fusion of the physical and spiritual here in our world. This being the mission of the Jewish people, we needed to see this space as an example of the integration work to bring the entire world.

That is why the Temple needed to be exact in its measurements, design, and construction. It showed the Jewish people and the rest of the world that the physical could be made holy, but only if we follow G-d's instructions exactly as the torah tells us. When we do, we see gold, silver, wool, cotton, animals, and humans elevated to a higher plane. There, every creation is precious and every moment is an opportunity to advance our world closer to its ultimate perfection, an era of peace and harmony with the coming of Moshiach, speedily, amen!

Mission:Be precise in your Jewish life, if you want to elevate your world. Remember, the divine lies in the details.

So much pain, how can I ever move forward?

It has been a long journey for our people and often a painful one. Even when we had thought we were finally out of the woods, we have continued to face challenges and obstacles, hate and persecution. How do we maintain our optimism and hope for a better future and a better world? 

The answer lies in this week's Torah portion Vayakhel. There, we learn about the construction of the Mishkan, the Tabernacle in the desert, and the enthusiasm for building a place where G-d's presence can dwell in this world. Though the Jewish people had experienced decades of suffering enslaved in Egypt, they excitedly embraced the opportunity to further their mission of making the world more divine. The mission empowered them to move forward no matter how traumatic the past was. 

Today, we have been living in constant turmoil. Since October 7th, we have experienced pain, sadness, joy, and Jubilation as our people in Israel and around the world continue to fight against the forces of evil. Sometimes, it can feel like we're fighting a losing battle, and we might feel depleted by this prospect. The key is to focus on the mission and the progress we're making every day in our communities. So many people are reconnecting to Jewish life and choosing to light a Shabbat candle, put on Tefillin, hang a Mezuzah, learn extra Torah, and help another human in need. These are the actions that advance our cause of bringing meaning and purpose to every part of G-d's universe. Yes, the going is tough, but look how much good we've done and how much more we do every day.

When you make your life into a Temple for G-d, then you become impenetrable to the negative forces around you. So invest yourself in Jewish life, and the pain of our past will never hold you down. 

Mission: Which Mitzvah will you choose to strengthen your temple? Make it a big one to counteract the forces of evil that seek to hole you back

We're a stubborn people, could be good or could be..

Today is Purim, a day on which we celebrate our ability to overcome persecution and annihilation repeatedly. Some may wonder what is our secret. How have we grown stronger and stronger in the face of adversity?

The answer lies in this week's Torah portion Ki Sisa, and the holiday of Purim. The Torah tells us that after G-d gave the the Ten Commandments on Mt. Sinai, the Jewish people built a golden calf, thinking that Moses had abandoned them. Of course, Hashem was very disappointed with them, and Moshe argued they should be forgiven for they are a stiff-necked people. The commentary explains that Moses was illuding to our people's determination to stand true to our faith and tradition even when put under fire. This, of course, can be seen clearly in the story of Purim when many Jewish people completely abandoned their heritage and joined King Achashveirosh for a party of non-kosher food, promiscuity, and debauchery. Yet, when Haman conspired to kill us, everyone rallied together as one nation to support and defend each other. There was no daylight between observant or non-observant, learned or non-learned Jews. We were one people united by the soul we all share.

Our obstinance through history has often been used in one of two ways: a determination to blend into our surroundings and shed our Jewish identity in exchange for acceptance by the general public, or a determination to live Jewishly without compromise even in the face of tyranny. Today, we are once again being called to action in the face of the latest iteration of Jew-hatred in Israel and around the world. We are a stiff-necked people, but each of us must decide if we will use this characteristic to unite in strength or hibernate in fear. I know that ultimately, we will all feel the power of our soul inside of us and answer the call of our time to unite in light and defeat the darkness. Let's not wait a minute longer and use the unique energy of Purim to shine proudly and illuminate our world, bringing harmony, joy, light, and love to our world.
ngth of our routine, our disciplined approach to life, and the detailed structure of Jewish life. 

Today, when the world tells us to rush and produce or be left behind in the dust, we say slow and steady wins the race. We know that as long as we maintain our faith, our way of life, and our respect for tradition, we will continue to illuminate the world as we've done for thousands of years. So don't be daunted by the early success of some; many have flashed for a moment, but fewer have remained shining. Stay the course, and you'll add your light to the great force for good in human history, the Jewish people. 

Mission: Find the stubbornness in your character and channel it towards a fierce determination to live Jewishly, no matter what, no matter who, no matter when, and no matter where.

Don't be daunted; this is the secret of our success

So many of us struggle to find our place in the world, achieve "success," and find this elusive fulfillment we all desperately seek. In a society that rushes from one moment to the next, we have been influenced to believe that success should happen instantly. Anything less leaves us defining ourselves as failures. How can we find a path forward in such an ever-demanding world with impossible self-imposed deadlines? 

The answer lies in this week's Torah portion, Tetzave, where we continue learning about the construction and operation of the Mishkah, the traveling Tabernacle the Jewish people used as they traveled through the desert on their way to Israel. G-d instructs Moshe that the Kohanim, the priests, should bring a daily offering each morning and afternoon, the same sacrifice brought each day at the same time. This routine continued unabated for hundreds of years as the Jewish people entered the land of Israel and their Temple moved from Gilgal to Shiloh to Nov and Givon. Regardless of their unique challenges and the persecutions of that time, the daily offering helped them stay grounded and focused and allowed them to keep pushing forward and overcome their obstacles. 

Throughout history, humans have thrived and succeeded, often overcoming challenges by creating routines that allowed them to stay focused on the task at hand and remain patient in seeing results. Many great empires have risen over the last 5,000 years, each making a good show in their day. However, eventually, they all flared out and disappeared. The Jewish people have continued to prosper and promote a life of faith, meaning, and purpose on the strength of our routine, our disciplined approach to life, and the detailed structure of Jewish life. 

Today, when the world tells us to rush and produce or be left behind in the dust, we say slow and steady wins the race. We know that as long as we maintain our faith, our way of life, and our respect for tradition, we will continue to illuminate the world as we've done for thousands of years. So don't be daunted by the early success of some; many have flashed for a moment, but fewer have remained shining. Stay the course, and you'll add your light to the great force for good in human history, the Jewish people. 

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