Editor's Note:
Dear Friend,
One of the earliest features on Chabad.org—harking back to the days of desktops and dialup—has been our daily study section, where people learn the day’s portion of Torah, Tanya, Hayom Yom, Psalms and Maimonides' Mishneh Torah, following the syllabus instituted by the Chabad rebbes.
We are very pleased to tell you about the latest addition to this venerable collection. “Daily Wisdom” is a companion to the daily Torah portion, bringing you a thoughtful and inspiring teaching on the portion, distilled from of the writings and talks of the Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory.
The teachings were rendered by Rabbi Moshe Wisnefsky, produced in book form by Chabad House Publications of California and published by Kehot Publication Society.
Click here to sample it, and see for yourself why this feature has already won awards and wide acclaim.
Want to see it daily? Click here to get it delivered to your inbox, or download our Hayom App and access it there.
Enjoy!
The Chabad.org Editorial Team
The Ingenious Mudhole
There is an urge within us, at once both imbecilic and ingenious.
Imbecilic, because it will not look beyond its mud hole and move on.
Ingenious, because to defend its muddy fortress it will summon circumstance, DNA, unfit parents, incompetent teachers, society, evolution, creation, low self-esteem—a myriad of excuses to avoid making one step ahead.
Every excuse but the real one: Its instinctive obstinacy to remain in the mud hole it knows so well.
This Week's Features:
Printable Magazine
Why Only a Few Drops of Water Came from the Rock
A lesson in giving
By Dovid Greenwald
The People of Israel were dying of dehydration. They had excruciatingly painful headaches and were starting to become disoriented. They needed to get some liquid into their systems, fast! But where would they find water in the barren and arid desert?
Miriam, Moshe and Aaron’s older sister, had recently passed on, and the water-giving rock that had traveled with them in her merit ceased to serve as a well for the Jewish people. Now, there was nowhere for them to get water. So they approached Moshe, their leader.The People of Israel were dying of dehydration
Moshe immediately went to seek G‑d’s guidance, and was soon answered with a response similar to the one he had been given back in the Torah portion of Beshalach during a similar crisis:
Take the staff and assemble the congregation, you and your brother, Aaron, and speak to the rock in their presence so that it will give forth its water. You shall bring forth water for them from the rock and give the congregation and their livestock to drink.1
A misunderstanding ensued, and (through the persuasion of the overly-jittery people) Moshe hit the rock (as he had been commanded to do in the previous incident2) instead of speaking to it, as he was commanded to do now.
Once the stone was struck, it began providing meager drops of water,3 an amount that was insufficient to quench the thirst of a nation of several million people! Only after Moshe struck the rock again did a fountain of water begin pouring out of it.
Now the obvious question is: Why was there the necessity for the teaser of only a few drops emerging at first?
A fascinating passage from the Talmud about our forefather Abraham’s hospitality will give us some insight into this event:4
Rav Yehuda said in the name of Rav, “Whatever Abraham did for the ministering angels [who were his guests] himself, the Holy One Blessed Is He likewise did for Abraham’s children Himself. But whatever Abraham did only through an agent, the Holy One Blessed Is He likewise did for His children only through an agent. . . . ‘Let some water be brought’ [through someone else]5resulted in ‘And you [Moshe] shall strike the rock and water will come forth from it and the people will drink.’ 6
Based on this quote from the Talmud, the commentary Imrei Emet7 explains our story beautifully.
Abraham was extremely hospitable, and his kindness was unparalleled. Even at the age of 99, he would sit outside in the scorching sun and wait for passersby that he could invite inside to be his guests.
ThereHis kindness was unparalleled was, however, one subtle blunder in this hospitality. When Abraham told his servant to get food and drink for the newly arrived guests, he said, “Let a little water be brought.” He was willing to offer them only a small amount of water.
It was a small blunder, but the price would be paid many years later, when G‑d did to Abraham’s offspring what he did to the angels: He gave them a small trickle of water.8
For You or for the Other
Generally, there are two ways to perform acts of kindness. One can be extremely generous, displaying an exceptional degree of openhandedness. Deep down, though, the sole reason the person is acting in this manner is to enhance other people’s perception of him; it’s a publicity stunt to show off one’s wealth.9
At the opposite extreme is the person who gives because that’s who he is. He senses the innate qualities of anyone who knocks on his door, and he offers people whatever they need, even if he’ll lose out as a result.
Abraham was the embodiment of this kind of kindness, willing to sacrifice for the other, even when it meant a loss to him. And no one since his time has surpassed his greatness in this respect.10
And here lies an amazing aspect of this event in the desert. True, the water came from the rock a bit slowly, and through a third party, but it came as a result of Abraham’s kindness. Seven generations and 400 years after Abraham gave some travelers water with his whole heart, G‑d quenched the thirst of an entire nation because of that action.
Take Action
It was a freezing night in a small Russian town. Two men, frozen to the core, sat down in a local pub to warm themselves up. After several “warm-ups,” the mood began to shift to revelry mode.
When they were well beyond the point when they would have needed a designated driver, they began to fantasize, starting the “what would you do if you won the lottery” conversation.They would have needed a designated driver
One of the men declared, “If I were a billionaire, I would give all my wealth straight to the Motherland!”
“And what if you owned an entire city, what would be the first thing you’d do?” his friend asked. “I would wholeheartedly donate it to Mother Russia! What’s the question?!”
“And what would be if you had two chickens hanging out in the coop in your backyard, what then?” Hesitating slightly, he answered, “Well I’m not really so sure. . . .”
His friend immediately asked: “But what’s the difference here?”
To which he tentatively responded, “You see, I actually have two chickens in my backyard. . . .”
When push comes to shove, all the talking must take a backseat, and action must be at the forefront.
FOOTNOTES
1. Bamidbar 20:8.
2. See Rashi, Ramban and other commentaries ad loc.
3. See Rashi on Bamidbar 20:11.
4. Baba Metzia 86b.
5. Genesis 18:4.
6. Shemot 17:6.
7. Rabbi Abraham Mordechai Alter, 1866-1948, the third Rebbe of the Ger Chassidic dynasty.
8. Imrei Emet, Likutim, Baba Metzia, ibid.
9. In his public address on Simchat Torah, 1942 (5703), Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn, the sixth Lubavitcher Rebbe, explained how when doing a charitable act we must rid ourselves of any egoistic feelings. Even if we feel content that we were the ones to assist someone else—that alone gives off a “repulsive odor.” After all, that wasn’t the Almighty’s intent when He selected us to be the giver as opposed to the receiver (see Sefer Hasichot 5703, pp. 9-10).
10. Likutei Sichot, Vol. 25, p. 80.
VIDEO
A Joint Effort
Stanley Abramowitz frequently traveled to North Africa on behalf of the Joint Distribution Committee, where he found himself working side by side with Chabad. Impressed, he decided to meet the man behind the operation. (1950s)
Watch (5:22)
http://www.chabad.org/therebbe/livingtorah/player_cdo/aid/2920462/jewish/A-Joint-Effort.htm
Why Only a Few Drops of Water Came from the Rock
A lesson in giving
By Dovid Greenwald
The People of Israel were dying of dehydration. They had excruciatingly painful headaches and were starting to become disoriented. They needed to get some liquid into their systems, fast! But where would they find water in the barren and arid desert?Miriam, Moshe and Aaron’s older sister, had recently passed on, and the water-giving rock that had traveled with them in her merit ceased to serve as a well for the Jewish people. Now, there was nowhere for them to get water. So they approached Moshe, their leader.The People of Israel were dying of dehydration
Moshe immediately went to seek G‑d’s guidance, and was soon answered with a response similar to the one he had been given back in the Torah portion of Beshalach during a similar crisis:
Take the staff and assemble the congregation, you and your brother, Aaron, and speak to the rock in their presence so that it will give forth its water. You shall bring forth water for them from the rock and give the congregation and their livestock to drink.1
A misunderstanding ensued, and (through the persuasion of the overly-jittery people) Moshe hit the rock (as he had been commanded to do in the previous incident2) instead of speaking to it, as he was commanded to do now.
Once the stone was struck, it began providing meager drops of water,3 an amount that was insufficient to quench the thirst of a nation of several million people! Only after Moshe struck the rock again did a fountain of water begin pouring out of it.
Now the obvious question is: Why was there the necessity for the teaser of only a few drops emerging at first?
A fascinating passage from the Talmud about our forefather Abraham’s hospitality will give us some insight into this event:4
Rav Yehuda said in the name of Rav, “Whatever Abraham did for the ministering angels [who were his guests] himself, the Holy One Blessed Is He likewise did for Abraham’s children Himself. But whatever Abraham did only through an agent, the Holy One Blessed Is He likewise did for His children only through an agent. . . . ‘Let some water be brought’ [through someone else]5resulted in ‘And you [Moshe] shall strike the rock and water will come forth from it and the people will drink.’ 6
Based on this quote from the Talmud, the commentary Imrei Emet7 explains our story beautifully.
Abraham was extremely hospitable, and his kindness was unparalleled. Even at the age of 99, he would sit outside in the scorching sun and wait for passersby that he could invite inside to be his guests.
ThereHis kindness was unparalleled was, however, one subtle blunder in this hospitality. When Abraham told his servant to get food and drink for the newly arrived guests, he said, “Let a little water be brought.” He was willing to offer them only a small amount of water.
It was a small blunder, but the price would be paid many years later, when G‑d did to Abraham’s offspring what he did to the angels: He gave them a small trickle of water.8
For You or for the Other
Generally, there are two ways to perform acts of kindness. One can be extremely generous, displaying an exceptional degree of openhandedness. Deep down, though, the sole reason the person is acting in this manner is to enhance other people’s perception of him; it’s a publicity stunt to show off one’s wealth.9
At the opposite extreme is the person who gives because that’s who he is. He senses the innate qualities of anyone who knocks on his door, and he offers people whatever they need, even if he’ll lose out as a result.
Abraham was the embodiment of this kind of kindness, willing to sacrifice for the other, even when it meant a loss to him. And no one since his time has surpassed his greatness in this respect.10
And here lies an amazing aspect of this event in the desert. True, the water came from the rock a bit slowly, and through a third party, but it came as a result of Abraham’s kindness. Seven generations and 400 years after Abraham gave some travelers water with his whole heart, G‑d quenched the thirst of an entire nation because of that action.
Take Action
It was a freezing night in a small Russian town. Two men, frozen to the core, sat down in a local pub to warm themselves up. After several “warm-ups,” the mood began to shift to revelry mode.
When they were well beyond the point when they would have needed a designated driver, they began to fantasize, starting the “what would you do if you won the lottery” conversation.They would have needed a designated driver
One of the men declared, “If I were a billionaire, I would give all my wealth straight to the Motherland!”
“And what if you owned an entire city, what would be the first thing you’d do?” his friend asked. “I would wholeheartedly donate it to Mother Russia! What’s the question?!”
“And what would be if you had two chickens hanging out in the coop in your backyard, what then?” Hesitating slightly, he answered, “Well I’m not really so sure. . . .”
His friend immediately asked: “But what’s the difference here?”
To which he tentatively responded, “You see, I actually have two chickens in my backyard. . . .”
When push comes to shove, all the talking must take a backseat, and action must be at the forefront.
FOOTNOTES
1. Bamidbar 20:8.
2. See Rashi, Ramban and other commentaries ad loc.
3. See Rashi on Bamidbar 20:11.
4. Baba Metzia 86b.
5. Genesis 18:4.
6. Shemot 17:6.
7. Rabbi Abraham Mordechai Alter, 1866-1948, the third Rebbe of the Ger Chassidic dynasty.
8. Imrei Emet, Likutim, Baba Metzia, ibid.
9. In his public address on Simchat Torah, 1942 (5703), Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn, the sixth Lubavitcher Rebbe, explained how when doing a charitable act we must rid ourselves of any egoistic feelings. Even if we feel content that we were the ones to assist someone else—that alone gives off a “repulsive odor.” After all, that wasn’t the Almighty’s intent when He selected us to be the giver as opposed to the receiver (see Sefer Hasichot 5703, pp. 9-10).
10. Likutei Sichot, Vol. 25, p. 80.
Your Questions
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 Question:Why is there a ritual way of slaughtering and preparing all kosher animals except for fish?Answer:When the Jews were in the desert and started complaining about the lack of meat, Moses turned to G‑d saying, “If sheep and cattle were slaughtered for them, would it suffice for them? If all the fish of the sea were gathered for them, would it suffice for them?”1From the fact that the verse specifies slaughter in reference to sheep and cattle, but gathering in reference to fish, we learn that it is enough to simply gather fish out of water without slaughtering them.2 However, the question remains. What is the reason that fish are treated differently than other animals? A somewhat cryptic Talmudic passage seems to address this question: A Galilean lecturer expounded: Cattle were created out of the dry earth and are rendered kosher by the severing of both organs [of the neck]; fish were created out of the water and are rendered fit without any ritual slaughtering; birds were created out of mud3 and are therefore rendered fit by the cutting of just one organ.4There are a number of explanations for this fascinating piece of Talmud. Here is one of them: In Jewish teachings, as well as in ancient philosophy, all of creation is divided into four elemental categories: fire, air, water and earth.5 The earth is considered to be the lowest of the elements. Then comes water, which is more refined, followed by air which hovers above the water, and finally fire, which constantly strives to reach higher. The Talmud seems to be saying that the kosher requirements depend on how an animal was created. Cattle (and to a lesser degree birds) were created from the “earth,” and therefore require slaughter. Fish were created from the more elevated element of “water,” and therefore don’t require any type of slaughter. A mystical explanationThe great Kabbalist Rabbi Isaac Luria (the Ari, 1534-1572) taught that every creation possesses a "spark" of divine energy that constitutes its essence and soul. When a person utilizes something toward a G‑dly end, he or she releases this divine spark, realizing the purpose for which it was created. Thus, one who makes a blessing, eats, and then uses the energy from the food to perform a mitzvah, elevates the spark of divinity that is the essence of the food.6But some divine sparks are harder to get to than others. Because cattle were created from earth—which is considered the coarsest of the elements—they require more preparation to be elevated, and must be slaughtered according to Jewish ritual. Fish, on the other hand, were created from the more refined element of water. Therefore merely gathering them (drawing them out of the water) suffices, and all one needs to do in order to elevate the G‑dly spark in fish is to make a blessing, and then use the energy from what you have eaten for G‑dly pursuits.7
Rabbi Yehuda Shurpin responds to questions for Chabad.org's Ask the Rabbi service.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
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Your Questions
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 Question:I was always under the impression that King David was the author of the Book of Psalms (Tehillim). But as I read through the psalms, I saw that many of them are attributed to other composers: Moses, Asaph, Heiman and others. What’s the deal?Answer:A quick perusal through the Book of Psalms will reveal numerous chapters attributed to various great personalities. The Talmud enumerates ten authors other than King David. “David composed the Book of Psalms through ten elders: Adam, Melchizedek, Abraham,1 Moses, Heiman, Yedutun, Asaph, and the three sons of Korach.”2 Furthermore, according to the Midrash, Jacob recited psalms during his 20-year stay in Laban’s home.3Clearly, many psalms were composed and recited many generations before King David, yet Psalms is popularly known as the Book of King David! The Talmud states that Rabbi Meir would say, “All the praises stated in the Book of Psalms were recited by David, as it is stated: ‘The prayers of David, son of Yishai, are ended (kalu).’4 Do not read ‘kalu,’ rather, read ‘kol elu,’ ‘all of these’”—which indicates that the entire Book of Psalms consists of the prayers of King David.5 To clarify this conundrum, we must first properly appreciate the unique stature of Psalms. It is the only book in Tanach that is compared to the Torah itself.6 More than just a collection of beautiful songs composed by various authors, it is considered the “Bible of Prayer.” Just as all of Torah is sourced in the Five Books of Moses, prayer in Judaism is sourced in the Five Books of Psalms. For all generations, Psalms gives every Jew, be he a great sage or a simpleton, the ability to best express and articulate supplication and thanksgiving to his Creator.7 Why, of all the great leaders of history, did G‑d ordain King David, the “Sweet Singer of Israel,”8to be the one to redact the songs of praise from the beginning of time, and to bequeath to the Jewish nation the gift of prayer?9 Because during his entire life, King David was immersed in the constant recitation of psalms. In times of trouble and success, as a hunted fugitive10 and as the victorious king at the pinnacle of royalty and greatness,11 his lips never ceased to sing the praises of G‑d. Although many psalms were originally composed by others, it was King David’s recital that established them as immortal songs of praise. Read more about King David and the Book of Psalms here.
Rabbi Levi Greenberg is the director of programming at Chabad Lubavitch of El Paso, Texas.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
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Your Questions
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 Question:Could global warming be a sign that the Messiah is about to arrive? I learned that the Torah predicts that in the future the "covering of the sun" will be removed, and wicked people will melt in the intense heat. Maybe this is describing the hole in the ozone layer. Could this be true? Are we about to see the destruction of the wicked? (I'm not sure which side of that I'll end up on. . . .)Answer:The Jewish view of the end of days differs greatly from other apocalyptic visions. It will not need to be violent, and there will be no need for more wars. Even the punishment of the wicked can happen by peaceful means.The Talmudic teaching you mention illustrates this: "In the future, there will be no need for purgatory. G‑d will remove the sun from its sheath. The righteous will be healed by it, and the wicked will be punished by it."1 The sheath of the sun could be the atmosphere, photosphere, the ozone layer, all of the above or something else entirely, but the Talmud here is talking about a change in spiritual climate. In Torah teachings, the sun represents G‑d's light.2 In our current world, this light is hidden. Just as the sun has a sheath that covers it and filters its light, so too the laws of nature cover over G‑d's light in the world. The Divine hand is often hard to detect, and life can sometimes seem random and meaningless. G‑d is there if you look for Him, but He can easily be missed, and the world can seem like a very dark place. But one day soon, it will all make sense. When the Messiah comes, G‑d will reveal Himself, His light will shine unblocked, the veil will be lifted, and we will see that it was His hand guiding the world all along. Nothing was random, nothing was a mistake, and everything was part of His ultimate plan. This awareness will be a healing for the righteous. They always knew that G‑d was there, and it pained them that He could not be seen. They will take pleasure in feeling G‑d's closeness and seeing goodness prevail, which is what they dedicated their lives to achieve. But for the wicked it will be a punishment. When the truth is revealed, when the game is up, they will feel the pain of having wasted their lives on emptiness and triviality. The greatest punishment is to discover that you got it wrong, that you built our life on false ground and missed out on doing so much good.3 The sun will shine. The question is, are you blocking the light or helping unveil the light? Is yours a life of enduring worth, or are you preoccupied with the pettiness that will one day melt away? The future is bright. You can help make it so.
Aron Moss is rabbi of the Nefesh Community in Sydney, Australia, and is a frequent contributor to Chabad.org.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
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Story
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Yerachmiel Tilles is the co-founder of Ascent-of-Safed, and was its educational director for 18 years. He is the creator of www.ascentofsafed.com and www.kabbalaonline.org and currently the director of both sites. He is also a well-known storyteller, a columnist for numerous chassidic publications, and a staff rabbi on AskMoses.com, as well as and the author of "Saturday Night, Full Moon": Intriguing Stories of Kabbalah Sages, Chasidic Masters and other Jewish Heroes.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
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A Joint Effort
Stanley Abramowitz frequently traveled to North Africa on behalf of the Joint Distribution Committee, where he found himself working side by side with Chabad. Impressed, he decided to meet the man behind the operation. (1950s)
Watch (5:22)http://www.chabad.org/therebbe/livingtorah/player_cdo/aid/2920462/jewish/A-Joint-Effort.htm
http://www.chabad.org/2920462
More in Video:
• The Blessings of the Shema (By Shmuel Kaplan)
More in Video:
• The Blessings of the Shema (By Shmuel Kaplan)
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• Chabad Nigun Hisvaadus (By "The Heart and the Wellspring")
<script language="javascript" type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.chabad.org/multimedia/mediaplayer/embedded/embed.js.asp?aid=2261121&width=auto&height=auto"></script><span style="clear:both;" class="lb" id="lbdiv">Visit <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish.TV</a> for more <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish videos</a>.</span>
• Chabad Nigun Hisvaadus (By "The Heart and the Wellspring")
<script language="javascript" type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.chabad.org/multimedia/mediaplayer/embedded/embed.js.asp?aid=2261121&width=auto&height=auto"></script><span style="clear:both;" class="lb" id="lbdiv">Visit <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish.TV</a> for more <a href="http://www.chabad.org/multimedia/default_cdo/aid/591213/jewish/Video.htm">Jewish videos</a>.</span>
Parshah
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This past week, I was speaking to a few medical professionals about the specific cultural practice of brit milah (circumcision) from a Jewish perspective, and how it differs from a routine medical circumcision. One of the nurses asked me to explain the origin of the practice and the centrality of brit to our religion.
I started off my crash course in milah by discussing our forefather Abraham (the first Jew to be circumcised—and at age 99!) and his son Isaac (the first Jew to be circumcised at eight days old). I described how all Jews throughout history, and in every circumstance, have universally circumcised their children. The group was fascinated to learn how even otherwise unobservant parents are so dedicated to this one mitzvah that they will, if necessary, arrange for a mohel(trained circumcisor) to fly in, just to ensure that their precious newborn child has a kosher brit. They were even more blown away when I told them the story of my wife’s great-grandfather Rabbi Yitzchak Raskin, who was a mohel in Leningrad in the dark years of Stalinist Russia and, despite knowing the risks, repeatedly risked his life to perform circumcisions. And, indeed, he was ultimately arrested by the Soviets and executed for his “crimes.” When he was being led, manacled, out of his home, the final words he addressed to his children were, “Kinderlach, ir zolt gein in di veggen oif vos men nemt mir avek.” “Dear children, you should dedicate your lives for that which I am being arrested.” While I was telling this story, there was an audible intake of breath from those present, and one doctor even screamed out “No!” in surprise. At the time, I was somewhat surprised by the visceral reaction. However, thinking about it later, I realized that I had grown up hearing stories of faith, courage and self-sacrifice. My grandparents lost most of their families in the Holocaust. Every family had its own story of murdered relatives and miraculous escapes from oppression. There were people in every synagogue with numbers on their arms. But to someone from a different cultural background, you can well imagine that the fact that someone would be willing to risk his life for an act of faith, or, knowing the consequences, encourage his children to do the same, would be considered extraordinary. In this week’s Parshah, we learn that one who comes in contact with a corpse becomes ritually impure. The topic is introduced with the words “This is the Torah, [when] a man dies . . .”1 The Talmudic sages creatively interpret these words as an inspirational message that “the Torah will survive only through those who sacrifice their lives for it.”2 Not everyone is called on to die for the Torah, yet how many of us are willing to live our lives as if we were? Virtually every Jew alive today is the progeny of someone who was willing to risk his or her life for Judaism. And whether there will be Jews following in the path of Judaism tomorrow depends on the sacrifices we make today. I sincerely hope that my kids will never see me led away from our home for keeping mitzvahs, but I’m embarrassed to consider what they actually see me doing with my time now. Do I prioritize Torah and actively seek out opportunities to do mitzvahs, or do I waste time on inanities and inessentials? As Jewish parents, we want our children to stay Jewish, marry Jewish and bring us Jewish nachat (pride). And although we can say whatever we want to our kids—asking them, nudging them and begging them to go in the ways of Torah—our kids understand actions more than words, and learn our real priorities by watching. When our children see that we are willing to sacrifice anything and everything for a mitzvah, then we can guarantee that they will follow in the path of Torah and Judaism, and that mitzvahs will be kept by future generations forever.
Rabbi Elisha Greenbaum is spiritual leader of Moorabbin Hebrew Congregation and co-director of L’Chaim Chabad in Moorabbin, Victoria, Australia.
© Copyright 2015, all rights reserved.
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Parshah
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Who has not heard of Miriam the prophetess, Moses’ older sister? A woman who inspired a whole generation of Jews enslaved in Egypt. A woman who put her life on the line to save infants whom Pharaoh had ordered murdered. A woman so righteous, she prophesized the redemption; a woman so believing, she prepared musical instruments for the praises of thanksgiving the Jews would sing upon their liberation. After the Exodus, it was due to her Who has not heard of Miriam the prophetess?merit that while traveling through the desert, the Jews had fresh water spouting from a rock called “Miriam’s Well.”
Though there is so much to learn from Miriam, the Torah highlights one incident of her life, and enjoins us to always “remember what G‑d did to Miriam on the way from Egypt” (Deut 24:9). In fact, this is one of only six incidents we are commanded to recall every day. What episode does this verse refer to? Miriam discovered that Moses had separated from his wife, Tzipporah, due to his exalted spiritual level. When discussing the matter with her brother Aaron, she praised Tzipporah as a woman of beauty and perfection in all ways, and expressed her feeling that Moses wasn’t justified in separating from her. In Miriam’s estimation, Moses’ spiritual level was not an adequate reason for him to separate; after all, she and Aaron were both married prophets. Miriam underestimated Moses and his superior level of prophecy. Moses was unparalleled—G‑d would appear to him at all times. He had to be “on call” at every moment of the day and night, a situation that was incompatible with marriage. G‑d chastised Miriam: “How were you not afraid to speak against My servant Moses?” For speaking improperly about Moses, G‑d afflicted Miriam with leprosy, and she was placed in quarantine for seven days outside the Jewish encampment. Though the Jews were meant to continue their travels, out of respect for Miriam they waited until her return.1 This is the episode that the Torah enjoins us never to forget. This remembrance is classically understood as a daily reminder about the perniciousness of lashon hara (negative speech), and how sensitive and careful we need to be with our words. Miriam loved Moses dearly, and her words carried no harmful intent. She did not even speak negatively about Moses, other than comparing him to other prophets. The subject of her conversation, Moses, was much too humble to have Miriam loved Moses dearly, and her words carried no harmful intent.taken any offense. Nevertheless, Miriam was punished. How much more so must we be vigilant not to speak negatively about others! But this begs a question: Of all the stories about Miriam, why did the Torah choose this unflattering incident and make it mandatory to remember? Is there not another way to achieve the same desired result—heightened consciousness of the evils of lashon hara? Why should such an inspirational and righteous woman be remembered for a (well-intentioned, one-time) mistake? This story must also convey something positive about Miriam, a message hidden beneath the surface. In the Jewish view, marriage is a sacred ideal, a holy institution. There must have been a very exceptional circumstance that would cause Moses and Tzipporah to make such a personal sacrifice and separate. Miriam understood this, but couldn’t make peace with the situation. Miriam was singlemindedly devoted to the Jewish people. In Egypt, she disregarded mortal risk and served alongside her mother, Yocheved, as a midwife. She was nicknamed “Puah” due to her knack for pacifying the newborn babies. She and her mother saved countless babies when they defied Pharaoh’s orders. Children were Miriam’s love and passion. The continuity of Judaism was her cause. Miriam understood that each child born strengthens the entire Jewish nation; each soul is another candle that illuminates the world. Miriam couldn’t help but dream of Moses and Tzipporah having another child.2 If every child born is a priceless asset to the Jewish nation, how much more so a child born to and raised by such spiritual giants! When Miriam discovered that Moses was separated from Tzipporah, she was in a quandary. On the one hand, dare she speak against Moses? Along with the entire Jewish nation, she witnessed G‑d exclusively addressing Moses at Mt. Sinai. She saw him descend from the mountain with the tablets. He was the conduit for G‑d’s missives to the nation. There was no doubt of his greatness. It was clear that challenging anything he did could have severe consequences; an affront against the ultimate servant of G‑d was tantamount to Could she be silent in the face of such unrealized potential?an affront against G‑d! On the other hand, could she contain herself? Could she be silent in the face of such unrealized potential? What happened next is history. Miriam’s conclusion was that if there was even a slight chance that her efforts would lead to Moses and Tzipporah reuniting and producing another child, she was prepared to take the risk. She would make that sacrifice. In the final analysis, Miriam erred; she failed to appreciate Moses’ unique level of prophecy and relationship with G‑d that precluded his marriage. Precisely because of her greatness, the punishment for this slight mistake was so severe. G‑d holds the righteous to a very high standard. Without a doubt, however, her intentions were noble and pure, her self-sacrifice valued, and her perspective laudable and worthy of emulation. Therefore, the entire nation—along with the Tabernacle, the Ark, and the Divine Presence—respectfully waited for her return before resuming their travels. Remembering the story daily reminds us to refrain from speaking ill of others, but it also underscores the importance of bearing children. Miriam’s self-sacrifice and determination serve as an ever-present inspiration. This essay is dedicated to my dear mother, Rebbetzin Tzivia Miriam Gurary o.b.m., in honor of her seventh yahrtzeit.
Esther and her husband are Chabad emissaries in Chautauqua, N.Y., where they work with the Jewish community. Esther, an educator for more than a decade, also teaches young women at the Institute for Higher Jewish Learning. She is the proud mother of seven children.
Artwork by Sarah Kranz.
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Parshah
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The People of Israel were dying of dehydration. They had excruciatingly painful headaches and were starting to become disoriented. They needed to get some liquid into their systems, fast! But where would they find water in the barren and arid desert?
Miriam, Moshe and Aaron’s older sister, had recently passed on, and the water-giving rock that had traveled with them in her merit ceased to serve as a well for the Jewish people. Now, there was nowhere for them to get water. So they approached Moshe, their leader. The People of Israel were dying of dehydrationMoshe immediately went to seek G‑d’s guidance, and was soon answered with a response similar to the one he had been given back in the Torah portion of Beshalach during a similar crisis: Take the staff and assemble the congregation, you and your brother, Aaron, and speak to the rock in their presence so that it will give forth its water. You shall bring forth water for them from the rock and give the congregation and their livestock to drink.1 A misunderstanding ensued, and (through the persuasion of the overly-jittery people) Moshe hit the rock (as he had been commanded to do in the previous incident2) instead of speaking to it, as he was commanded to do now. Once the stone was struck, it began providing meager drops of water,3 an amount that was insufficient to quench the thirst of a nation of several million people! Only after Moshe struck the rock again did a fountain of water begin pouring out of it. Now the obvious question is: Why was there the necessity for the teaser of only a few drops emerging at first? A fascinating passage from the Talmud about our forefather Abraham’s hospitality will give us some insight into this event:4 Rav Yehuda said in the name of Rav, “Whatever Abraham did for the ministering angels [who were his guests] himself, the Holy One Blessed Is He likewise did for Abraham’s children Himself. But whatever Abraham did only through an agent, the Holy One Blessed Is He likewise did for His children only through an agent. . . . ‘Let some water be brought’ [through someone else]5 resulted in ‘And you [Moshe] shall strike the rock and water will come forth from it and the people will drink.’ 6 Based on this quote from the Talmud, the commentary Imrei Emet7 explains our story beautifully. Abraham was extremely hospitable, and his kindness was unparalleled. Even at the age of 99, he would sit outside in the scorching sun and wait for passersby that he could invite inside to be his guests. ThereHis kindness was unparalleled was, however, one subtle blunder in this hospitality. When Abraham told his servant to get food and drink for the newly arrived guests, he said, “Let a little water be brought.” He was willing to offer them only a small amount of water. It was a small blunder, but the price would be paid many years later, when G‑d did to Abraham’s offspring what he did to the angels: He gave them a small trickle of water.8 For You or for the OtherGenerally, there are two ways to perform acts of kindness. One can be extremely generous, displaying an exceptional degree of openhandedness. Deep down, though, the sole reason the person is acting in this manner is to enhance other people’s perception of him; it’s a publicity stunt to show off one’s wealth.9At the opposite extreme is the person who gives because that’s who he is. He senses the innate qualities of anyone who knocks on his door, and he offers people whatever they need, even if he’ll lose out as a result. Abraham was the embodiment of this kind of kindness, willing to sacrifice for the other, even when it meant a loss to him. And no one since his time has surpassed his greatness in this respect.10 And here lies an amazing aspect of this event in the desert. True, the water came from the rock a bit slowly, and through a third party, but it came as a result of Abraham’s kindness. Seven generations and 400 years after Abraham gave some travelers water with his whole heart, G‑d quenched the thirst of an entire nation because of that action. Take ActionIt was a freezing night in a small Russian town. Two men, frozen to the core, sat down in a local pub to warm themselves up. After several “warm-ups,” the mood began to shift to revelry mode.When they were well beyond the point when they would have needed a designated driver, they began to fantasize, starting the “what would you do if you won the lottery” conversation. They would have needed a designated driverOne of the men declared, “If I were a billionaire, I would give all my wealth straight to the Motherland!” “And what if you owned an entire city, what would be the first thing you’d do?” his friend asked. “I would wholeheartedly donate it to Mother Russia! What’s the question?!” “And what would be if you had two chickens hanging out in the coop in your backyard, what then?” Hesitating slightly, he answered, “Well I’m not really so sure. . . .” His friend immediately asked: “But what’s the difference here?” To which he tentatively responded, “You see, I actually have two chickens in my backyard. . . .” When push comes to shove, all the talking must take a backseat, and action must be at the forefront.
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Women
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The mitzvah of inviting guests, called hachnasat orchim, goes back to our forefather Abraham. Three days after his circumcision at age 99, he happily greeted, fed and housed weary travelers. From Avraham’s actions I understand the importance of sacrificing my own comfort in exchange for another person’s well-being.
I'm working on it. Maybe it's a challenge because hospitality sounds too similar to "hospital." It does not sound like fun. Hospitality is an opportunity to create a bondBut in Jewish life, it’s understood that hospitality is an opportunity to create a bond between Jews, a bond that can only be achieved when one Jew goes out of his way for another, no matter who that other is. I still remember the first time I had the experience of someone I didn't know doing something nice for me just because I was Jewish. A few months after my husband and I became observant, we had a baby boy, which meant that there was a shalom zachor, the mostly male celebration that takes place on the Friday night before the baby's circumcision. I was amazed to receive a cake from someone named "Taibke" (I had never even heard that name) to use for the celebration. In the world I had come from, there were only two reasons to do something nice for someone else: either that person was your friend ("friend" was defined primarily as someone who reciprocated such kindness) or that person was in serious trouble. Doing something nice for someone just because that person was a fellow Jew would take some getting used to. And, I mean, it's one thing to make a cake for someone you don't know, but how about providing accommodations for an entire family you don't know? And maybe for longer than you thought you'd have to? Like all mitzvahs that apply between people, hachnasat orchim does more for the one who gives than for the one who receives. (Abraham's guests were angels who didn't even have the physical need to eat.) Chassidic lore is packed with stories of Jews and their guests. And all the stories have pretty much the same message: the host whose kindness transcends the guest's outwardly bad behavior receives tremendous blessings. WhileI'm not gritting my teeth while pretending to be cordial I don't presume to know anything about the realm of heavenly-bestowed blessings, I do know that the message transmitted by these stories placeshachnasat orchim in a totally spiritual context. These stories tell me that I have no idea about the soul of any Jew other than that it is holy and a part of G‑d Himself. When I do the mitzvah right, I'm not gritting my teeth while pretending to be cordial and hoping for a payback. I'm grateful for the opportunity to serve G‑d. And if I'm really on top of things, a less than ideal guest will elicit compassion instead of disdain. It has taken many years, but thank G‑d, I do find it easier to genuinely see the beauty of each guest. And for me, that is enough of a reward.
Lieba Rudolph lives in Pittsburgh, PA, and writes a weekly blog about Jewish spirituality.
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Women
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“No problem.” “No worries.” That’s the way we often respond when people thank us.
What’s wrong with this? What’s wrong is that the unconscious does not recognize a negative. Try this experiment: Don’t think of a pink giraffe. Immediately, what do you think of? A pink giraffe, of course! The unconscious does not recognize a negative, which in this case is the word “don’t.” You process the statement as Think of a pink giraffe. When someone I thank responds “No problem” or “No worries,” the words “problem” and “worries” jump out at me. I sense I’ve been viewed as mildly annoying, at best. Yet if my “Thank you” elicits a “You’re welcome” or “My pleasure,” I’m likely to feel good about our pleasant exchange. So why is a marriage maven writing about pink giraffes and seemingly innocuous phrases? And what does this have to do with Jewish teachings? These currently popular phrases, “No problem” and “No worries,” are heard subconsciously as negative messages. When spouses unknowingly communicate with each other less than positively, they create distance in their relationship. The Rebbe understood the subtle power of words. Rather than saying something was “bad,” he would often say it was “the opposite of good.”1 This roundabout way of talking, which is commonly done when speaking Hebrew, Yiddish and other languages, is based on the Talmudic teaching that “one should always speak in euphemistic [lit. ‘clean’] terms.”2 “Clean communication” uses words that bring forth positive associations, even when the speaker is referring to something about which he or she is unhappy. How to Communicate PositivelyIn the best marriages, partners communicate positively. This is not as simple as it might seem. A wife might intend to express gratitude by telling her husband, “I appreciate you for not bothering me when I wanted to read quietly last night.” A more positive message would be, “I appreciate you for respecting my wish to read quietly last night.”The first of the above two sentences contains a metaphorical pink giraffe. The husband is going to hear, loud and clear, the word “bothering.” The message left swimming in his subconscious could well be: “I’m a bother; she finds me annoying.” His wife’s attempt to compliment him backfired because it contained a subliminal negative component. In fact, her message may actually result in him bothering her more often, because we are more likely to repeat behaviors for which we are given attention, even negative attention. The second sentence, “I appreciate you for respecting my wish to read quietly last night,” is totally positive. The listening husband (not an oxymoron!) hears, “I’m respectful and considerate. She likes this about me.” This kind of positive attention will probably result in other considerate behaviors on his part, and consequently more connection and harmony in the couple’s relationship. Turn a Complaint into a RequestPositive communicators have learned how to turn a complaint into a request. Instead of saying what they do not want their partner to do, they say what they want.A wife who resents having to plan every date night might feel tempted to blurt out to her husband, “Why do I always have to be the one who has to come up with ideas for our dates?” Feeling criticized, the husband might react by begrudgingly planning a lackluster date. What if the wife would say instead, “I’d love it if you would plan some of our dates”? The husband would hear the word “love,” and would probably want to please her by honoring her request in a heartfelt way. By reframing a complaint into a request, the listener is more likely to hear our message as constructive—a communication that fosters connection. Follow a Complaint with a RequestSince we’re human, we’re all likely to complain now and then, to say what we don’t want or don’t like. A husband might tell his wife, “I didn’t like it when you told our friends about my brother’s medical condition. I wasn’t ready to share this.” He can soften his rebuke by adding a request, such as “I would appreciate it if from now on you’ll keep this private until I’m ready to share it with others.” His wife hears “appreciate,” and will probably respond warmly by saying she will certainly honor his wish.And when he then thanks her, she’ll say, “You’re welcome!” Cleaning up Your Communication
Marcia Naomi Berger, MSW, LCSW, author of Marriage Meetings for Lasting Love: 30 Minutes a Week to the Relationship You’ve Always Wanted, is a psychotherapist, speaker, and marriage and relationships educator.
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Women
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Growing up as twins, Rebecca and I shared many friends. But there were a couple of friends who were really just Rebecca’s or mine. Barbara was all mine. We’d met at the temple religious school in fourth grade, and became fast friends. Even after Barbara went off to graduate school in Boston, we stayed in close touch. She always called on my birthday and right before Yom Kippur. Instead of saying, “Hi, it’s Barbara,” she would start right in with singing our favorite song from the Yom Kippur liturgy, “All the World Shall Come to Serve Thee.”
Until she intermarriedUntil she intermarried. After graduate school, Barbara settled in Boston and got engaged to her longtime non-Jewish boyfriend, John. She invited both me and Rebecca to her wedding. Rebecca had recently started grad school, and was living on a tight budget. She sent a note pleading poverty as her reason for not attending the wedding. I sent a gift and a card, which I wrote and re-wrote. I told Barbara that I loved her and that our friendship was important to me. We would continue to be the best of friends. I would always be there for her when she needed. But I could not condone an intermarriage. Barbara accepted Rebecca’s declining to go, but she was angry and disappointed about my “rejection.” She wed without me, and it put a heavy strain on our friendship. She stopped calling before Yom Kippur, but continued calling or sending a card for my birthday. Last year, I was at Rebecca’s the morning before Yom Kippur. Rebecca was preparing a meal for before the fast. Her husband Greg was preparing to go to a sporting event with their two sons. Before he married Rebecca, Greg had converted to Judaism with the rabbi from our parents’ temple, but he was never an enthusiastic temple-goer, and in response to his strict Catholic upbringing, he was not keen on traditional religious observance of any kind. That morning, I heard the phone ring. It was Barbara, calling to speak to Rebecca. I was surprised at my feelings of jealousy and hurt—Barbara didn’t call me before Yom Kippur anymore. I headed outside to avoid being asked to talk. After Rebecca hung up, she came to comfort me. “Don’t you get it?” she asked. “Barbara and I talk before every Jewish holiday, because it’s just so hard for us. We are so jealous seeing all those happy families sitting in shul (synagogue) together, doing the same thing, sharing the same way of life. We don’t have that in our families. Sometimes the boys will go to shul with me if they don’t have anything better to do, but Greg’s basically out of the picture. So is John. During the rest of the year it’s not so bad, but at holiday times it’s really difficult, and downright lonely. Don’t be hard on Barbara. She isn’t excluding you. Unfortunately, she’s including me—but not for a happy reason.” I considered Rebecca’s words, and I took a stepI started to feel compassion back. Instead of feeling hurt by Barbara, I shifted to feeling compassion for both Barbara and Rebecca. I realized that if I were in their shoes, I would feel lonely too. I would feel a deep disappointment that my husband and children didn’t share in something that was so meaningful to me. I decided that instead of judging them, I should try to be supportive. When I got home later that day, I called Barbara. I told her I just wanted to say a quick hello, and wish her an easy fast. “I can’t believe you called,” she said. “I was just thinking of you.” Later, she emailed me: After you called me, I had a good cry. It meant to so much to me that you called. I feel like in the past you’ve been critical of me and my marriage to John, but I feel like now you are accepting same for who I am—a deeply committed Jew, who does fast on Yom Kippur, but somehow fell in love with a non-Jew, and married him.I felt like our friendship took a leap forward.Our friendship took a leap forward I realized that Barbara hadn’t thrown Judaism away, she just didn’t consider the long-term view, that she could very well end up as she did. It’s not easy to look down the road, especially when you don’t want to see what might be coming. Recently, my son had his bar mitzvah. Barbara couldn’t fly in for the event, but as I lit the candles the Friday night of the bar mitzvah, the phone rang. I heard the message from the answering machine: “Hey there, it’s me, Barb. Rats, I must have missed the Shabbat deadline. I gotta get more on the ball. Well, I just wanted to wish you a hearty mazal tov. Love you! Good Shabbat.”
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Lifestyle
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If you're not familiar with the term galette, it generally refers to round, flat, freeform pastries, either sweet or savory. A sweet galette is generally filled with fresh fruit like apples, peaches or berries. The pastry is crisp and flaky, the center sweet and juicy.
 Serve with a scoop of vanilla ice cream for a wonderful summer dessert.  No complex ingredients here. Just a very basic pastry, some blueberries, sugar and lemon.  This recipe isn't difficult—you just need to be careful with the pastry. For the pastry to be truly crisp and flaky, you need to be mindful of a few crucial things:
 Roll the pastry out on a sheet of parchment paper and then gently pick up the parchment paper and transfer it to a baking pan. Brush the edges of the dough with egg and sugar.  Pastry is ready when golden in color. Cool, cut and serve.  Pastry Ingredients
Filling Ingredients
For the glaze
Directions
Miriam Szokovski is the author of historical novel Exiled Down Under, and a member of the Chabad.org editorial team. She enjoys tinkering with recipes, and teaches
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Jewish News
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Who wouldn’t want an instant—and now electronically accessible—snippet of invaluable wisdom?
Daily Wisdom, an anthology of 378 daily inspirational lessons culled from the vast and deep Torah teachings of the Lubavitcher Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory—is the latest addition to the Chabad.org’s “Daily Study” section, one of the most popular sections of the website. The lessons in Daily Wisdom are apportioned according to the day-to-day study cycle of the Torah’s weekly portion. The teachings were adapted into English by Rabbi Moshe Wisnefsky and produced in book form by Chabad House Publications of California. It was published by Kehot Publication Society in July of 2014. Following the book’s initial success, it was republished in a compact format as the Asher David Milstein Edition. It became the gold winner in the religion category of the prestigious 2015 Benjamin Franklin Awards a few months later. In addition to being fully accessible online at TheRebbe.org, the teachings have also been incorporated into Chabad.org’s “Hayom” app, which brings togetherhalachic times, daily study, inspiration, yarhtzeits and Hebrew birthdays for an all-inclusive Chabad.org app experience. Subscribers also can receive each day’s wisdom in their inbox every day (except for Shabbat and Jewish holidays) by signing up for a special daily email. To subscribe to the daily mailing click here. The teachings are intended to serve as a companion to the full text of the daily portion of the Torah, which is customarily studied along with Rashi’s classic commentary. In addition, each teaching is preceded by a brief summary of the day’s Torah portion. “The Rebbe’s inspirational teachings are a relevant and living source of insight and comfort,” noted Rabbi Chaim Nochum Cunin, director of Chabad House Publications. “Daily Wisdom is a vehicle through which thousands of people are now being personally impacted by these teachings. Having them on the web makes this inspiration that much more accessible to all.” 
In addition to being fully accessible online at TheRebbe.org, the teachings have also been incorporated into Chabad.org’s “Hayom” app, and are available through a daily email subscription.
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Jewish News
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As I was about to start work yesterday I read the horrible, tragic news about nine innocent men and women massacred in a Charleston, S. C., church. As difficult as it is for me to read about any hate crime at any time, in any place, directed against any people, this one hit home in a particularly poignant way.
Just before reading the news, I had finished watching—and was reflecting on—an hour-long video released last week. The Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory, was addressing a Chassidic farbrengen in 1981, on what was then a growing epidemic of crime and violence in the world at large. In the address, the Rebbe discussed the fundamental principles of faith and behavior that apply to all humankind, everywhere, known as the Noahide Laws: the simple, once-widespread truth that there is a G‑d who created and directs the world and cares about what is going on down here; and that there are fundamental rights and wrongs decreed by G‑d for all humankind—such as not to steal, murder, hurt others, or even speak disparagingly of others. These G‑d-given ideas and ideals, and yes, rules, were once part and parcel of life in most every home. So much so, the Rebbe noted, that they did not have to be taught to children in schools, since they had learned them at home, and only needed to be reinforced by the educational system. More than 30 years ago, before all the technological changes that are reshaping and redefining how we do business, how we communicate, and how we live, the Rebbe highlighted contemporary society’s most awful paradox: That even as knowledge is progressing, human civilization—the sum total of civilized human behavior—was not keeping pace, and in some very important ways, was even regressing. Since then, although violent crime may have returned in general to its level in the 1960’s, a sense of moral responsibility, an awareness of right and wrong, respect and awe for the sanctity of human life—these are continuing to fall by the wayside, collateral damage in the wake of human progress. Then today we read the news about this latest example of worldwide human regression. More murders of innocent people in a house of worship. How many every day? Jews, Christians, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists. The solution is not an easy one, and it is with no small amount of discomfort that I fail to see how it easily can be achieved. It requires an about-face in our understanding of what good effective, education means. As the Rebbe said 34 years ago—and as is so much more urgently important today—it requires not only a return to humankind’s former understanding of what is right and wrong, but a return to the lost understanding of what the rights and responsibilities of parents, teachers and children ought to be. For the world to change for the better, for massacres like those in Charleston, S.C., to end, once and for all, people need to know, and children need to be taught, from the earliest age, at home and in every school, the bedrock of sustainable society: That we are one humanity created and directed by one G‑d, the Creator and Director who cares about His world and about each one of us, and who has given us some fundamental rules that we all must live by.
Yaakov Ort is News Editor at Chabad.org
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Jewish News
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Visitors from around the world gathered at the resting place of the Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory—in advance of and following the anniversary of his passing, which began on Friday night. More than 50,000 people visited the resting place in the days prior to and after the yahrtzeit, and countless others observed the day of passing worldwide. Photos by Bentzi Sasson
(Photo: Bentzi Sasson)
(Photo: Bentzi Sasson)
(Photo: Bentzi Sasson)
(Photo: Bentzi Sasson)
(Photo: Bentzi Sasson)
(Photo: Bentzi Sasson)
(Photo: Bentzi Sasson)
For those wishing to send a letter at any time, click here. 
(Photo: Bentzi Sasson)
(Photo: Bentzi Sasson)
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Jewish News
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From its idyllic seaside communities to a score of inland villages, towns and small cities founded during the Colonial era, Massachusetts’ North Shore is a region that’s both proud of its history and poised for future growth.
“Connecting generations” was a fitting theme, organizers say, for Chabad of the North Shore’s celebration of its 23rd anniversary and Torah rededication last Sunday—an event that drew more than 200 people, including Massachusetts Gov. Charlie Baker and first lady Lauren Baker. The couple was given the Lamplighter Award and a menorah as part of the evening, and guests say they were visibly touched by the presentation on behalf of the Jewish community. The Bakers spoke on June 7 about their admiration for the wisdom and depth of Jewish traditions. In fact, they told an anecdote about the time they attended a bat mitzvah and were so moved by the mother’s words to her daughter that they decided to give their own similar inspirational talks to their three children when they turned 13. Indeed, Chabad of the North Shore, based in Swampscott, Mass., has been bridging people and generations from the get-go. It got its start in 1992 and has grown by leaps and bounds, as has the Jewish population it serves, according to co-directors Rabbi Yossi and Layah Lipsker, who have six children ranging in age from 13 to 23. There’s the new Aleph Academy preschool. There’s an active daily minyan. They are close to breaking ground on a mikvah. 
Rabbi Yossi Lipsker, co-director of Chabad of the North Shore with his wife, Layah, greets the Bakers as they arrive at the event venue.
The majority of the Jewish population north of Boston has traditionally lived in the semi-urban city of Brookline and the more suburban city of Newton, to the west of Boston proper. There is also a sizable Jewish population in Cambridge, home of Harvard University and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, and pockets of Jewish families to the south, in places like Sharon, Mass. But the North Shore—the region between Boston and New Hampshire—is picking up steam, especially for young couples who are starting to consider picturesque seaside communities and smaller towns and cities as viable and attractive alternatives to the more established Jewish areas. As a result of innovative Shabbat programming, it’s not unusual to see more than 100 people attending synagogue at Chabad. Especially popular have been “hot Shabbat” (a Shabbat-morning program geared for the entire family by providing different options, including a Torah class during some of the services for people not able to read along, followed by a sit-down communal lunch) and the groundbreaking “Friday Project” (an initiative that teaches the melodies and meaning of Kabbalat Shabbat through hands-on workshops, followed by scheduled Friday nights where participants feel empowered to join in). 
The rabbi presents the Bakers with the Lamplighter Award and a menorah at Chabad of the North Shore’s 23rd anniversary gala.
New Couples, New EnergyTwelve years ago, the Lipskers hired Rabbi Nechemia and Raizal Schusterman to formally establish a new branch in Peabody—Chabad of Peabody Jewish Center—and this past weekend celebrated the grand opening and dedication of a stunning new permanent facility there as well.More recently, in 2011, Rabbi Shmaya and Aliza Friedman moved out to assist the Lipskers in their work. “People have really embraced us and our goal,” says Rabbi Lipsker, which is “to continue to strengthen and revitalize Yiddishkeit throughout the entire North Shore.” As for the Friedmans, he says “it feels like they have been with us from the beginning.” The Friedmans are charged with youth activities, the summer camp and the new Aleph Academy, a cutting-edge preschool that opened last fall with the assistance of a grant from the Machne Israel early-childhood initiative. It began with six children and soon doubled to 12; this year, it will incorporate two full classes serving 20 children. There has been an “off-the-charts buzz without any marketing,” says Lipsker of the school. “It seems like everyone wants to get into the Aleph Academy.” Rabbi Friedman agrees, noting that “the community really responded in an incredible way. We needed a different approach to early-childhood education for this growing demographic—giving their children a Jewish education right from the start.” 
Rabbi Shmaya Friedman, program director of Chabad of the North Shore, with the governor
On the flip side of the equation, Chabad is boosting an older entity as well. It’s in the process of merging with a nearby Orthodox synagogue, Ahabat Sholom in Lynn, Mass., which was without a rabbi and looking to breathe new life into its programming. The two congregations have been gradually joining together for Shabbat and holiday services, events, and other social and spiritual ways. “It seemed like the perfect shidduch [match] ... their shul and ours,” says Friedman. In fact, last Sunday’s celebration began at the older synagogue with a Torah precession leading to Chabad of the North Shore, where a rededication ceremony was held. Lipsker explains that the Torah honors the memory of Alan Kaplan, who studied Torah with him on Thursday nights when Lipsker was a rabbinic intern in the Brookline-based New England Hebrew Academy. Kaplan passed away at a young age, and at the time, his family contributed a Torah Ahabat Sholom. It was now being transferred to Chabad. “It’s very meaningful,” says Lipsker. “It was a celebration of goodness and life, and of the continuity of Yiddishkeit. It’s a statement of hope.” 
From left: Rabbi Moshe Liberow, Rabbi Yosef B. Friedman, Baker, Lipsker and Friedman
A Full Range of SupportLike Chabad centers in the United States and around the world, people turn to the Lipskers and the Friedmans for a full range of Jewish support—from birth to death and everything in-between.“We offer a wide array of Jewish programming to get people through the door,” says Lipsker. Sure, he acknowledges, “we promote and run events that engage and appeal to the hip and the tech-savvy young Jew of today. Though they initially come for the appealing part, they remain for the authenticity and warmth they experience. They remain because ultimately what our generation is really looking for is a more spiritual place to grow, particularly when they have families.” Purim is the grand event, one that attracts as many as 400 people. But Lag BaOmer came in a close second this year in terms of numbers. Chabad held a block party with a kosher-food truck that came in from Boston, as well as entertainment. The event drew more than 300 people—far more than was expected. “People just came out of the woodwork,” says Friedman, “and they had a great time.” And during Chanukah, the rabbis decided last year that instead of doing just one public menorah-lighting, they would have menorahs everywhere. So they put up 18 of them in different towns, holding lightings with respective dignitaries at each one, even designing a designated website for the project. They’re planning to be even more ambitious this winter, notes Lipsker: “We are aiming for 24 menorahs this Chanukah as we embark on our 24th year on shlichus.” 
Walking the Torah in a procession from Ahabat Sholom in Lynn, Mass., to Chabad of the North Shore, where the rededication ceremony took place.
‘A Heartwarming Experience’Howard and Sharon Rich, longstanding philanthropists and pillars of the North Shore community, feel strongly about the importance of supporting Chabad and its many offerings. “Being Jewish is the most important part of everything I have become,” says Howard Rich, who has been connected with the Chabad House from the very beginning. “There’s something about the joy one finds there that allows one’s spirit to soar. When you’re in that frame of mind, you feel closer to G‑d.”His wife adds that “as one gets older, one has different needs and finds them in unexpected places.” She fondly recalls Rabbi Lipsker coming to her house with his young children before Purim years ago, bringing her food and other gifts. “We invited them in, astonished that somebody who followed the law so much more strictly than we could aspire to do was so nonjudgmental and easy to talk to. It was eye-opening—a heartwarming experience.” 
Lipsker at the grand opening of Chabad of Peabody Jewish Center, led by Rabbi Nechemia and Raizal Schusterman, above, which was celebrated the same day as the gala dinner.
The Lipskers were the last Chabad-Lubavitch emissaries that the Rebbe sent out by handwritten letter, in 1992, prior to his stroke. That letter, says Rabbi Lipsker, “sits framed on my desk. It’s the first thing I see when I sit down for work. “The Rebbe’s unprecedented and bold vision of a post-Holocaust Jewish renaissance was nothing short of exhilarating,” he continues, “and all I have ever wanted was to be part of the worldwide, joyous and upbeat spiritual infrastructure that the Rebbe imagined.” Friedman, 28, like many young Chabad rabbis, never met the Rebbe in person. But he says he is motivated by him every day. The Rebbe’s vision, he says, “was to bring the light of Yiddishkeit to every nook and cranny of the world.” “That vision was so powerful that it continues to empower people my age to go out on shlichus”—on their mission, he explains. “The way he saw the world and wanted to change the world is something that is timeless and ageless. The message is so profound that it still has the ability to inspire those who never met him.” 
The ribbon of the new Chabad House in Peabody, Mass., just before it was cut.
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Chabad.org Magazine - Editor: Yanki Tauber
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