Rabbi's Blog - The Shul of Bellaire

Is all the waiting time wasted?

Friday, January 23, 2026 - 5:07 PM

We often feel frustrated by how much time is spent preparing for the moments that matter most.

Think about it. We can spend months planning a wedding that lasts only a few hours. Weeks preparing for a milestone event, a trip, or a celebration that comes and goes in a flash. Sometimes it leaves us wondering whether all that 'in-between' time was worth it, or if so much of life is simply spent waiting for the real moments to arrive.

Judaism offers a radically different perspective.

The first Mitzvah given to the Jewish people was not about belief, prayer, or morality. It was the commandment to sanctify time itself, by establishing the Jewish calendar. Our sages go so far as to say that the Torah could have begun with this Mitzvah alone.

Why?

Because Judaism teaches that time is not merely a means to an end. The preparation is not secondary to the moment. All of time is elevated by the purpose it serves.

We see this idea throughout Jewish life. When we give a minimum of 10% of our earnings to charity, it elevates even what we keep. When we recite a blessing before eating, it is not just that bite that gains meaning, but our entire relationship with food.

The Jewish calendar teaches the same lesson. While holidays occupy only a small portion of the year, they give meaning to all the ordinary days that lead up to them. The anticipation and preparation, none of it is wasted. Every ordinary day becomes extraordinary because it is moving toward something sacred.

Judaism is not asking us to escape life and wait for the big moments. It asks us to recognize that the journey itself is sacred.

This Wednesday, we mark 76 years since the Rebbe assumed leadership of the Chabad Lubavitch movement. The Rebbe exemplified what it means to see each moment as part of a greater purpose. Every moment of his was infused with meaning, direction and sacred intention. By following his example, we fulfill the very first Mitzvah we were ever given: to sanctify time, and through it, elevate all of life.

Can a Question Matter More Than the Answer?

Friday, January 16, 2026 - 4:34 PM

I often think about the questions Jews have asked over the centuries.

Not the answers, but the questions themselves.

A question is never just a technical inquiry. It reflects a life, a moment, a struggle, and a set of values. When a Jew turns to Torah with a question, they are revealing what matters most to them in that moment.

Across history, rabbis carefully recorded the questions they were asked and the answers they gave. These exchanges were preserved in what we now call rabbinic responsa - some six thousand volumes spanning continents, cultures, and centuries.

Sometimes, a single question tells an entire heartbreaking story. A Jew imprisoned in Auschwitz once asked whether he was permitted to save his only son if it meant another would be killed in his place. The question alone opens a window into unimaginable pain, faith, and moral courage.

Other questions are far more ordinary, yet no less revealing. “Is this strange new breed of chicken kosher?” or “May someone buy half the seats in the synagogue and charge others rent?”

Each question, simple or complex, shows us how Jews lived, what challenges they faced, and how deeply Torah guided their daily lives.

What’s even more remarkable is watching how the sages responded, how they weighed facts, examined Talmudic precedent, and ensured that timeless Jewish values, like human dignity and responsibility, were preserved when facing situations no one had ever encountered before.

Does growing older mean growing jaded?

Friday, January 9, 2026 - 4:30 PM

We typically begin life brimming with energy, curiosity, and a deep desire to make a difference. As we grow older, something subtle often shifts. With maturity comes wisdom and a sense of satisfaction in what we’ve achieved, but sometimes at the expense of youthful enthusiasm. Curiosity can dull, and we risk becoming a bit jaded.

Does growing up mean we must lose the innocence and vitality of our youth? Is it possible to mature without losing that spark?

Before the Jewish people left Egypt, G d empowered Moses to lead their redemption. In doing so, He referred to them affectionately as “My firstborn son, Israel,” a title that reflects maturity, responsibility, and purpose as a nation. Yet elsewhere, G d describes the Jewish people as His “youngest child” (Ki Naar Yisrael) a phrase that evokes the pure, unconditional love a parent feels for a baby. Anyone who has ever held a baby knows this kind of love, complete, instinctive, and untouched by expectation.

So which is ideal? The pure, unearned love reserved for a young child? Or the respect and closeness that come from growth, effort, and achievement?

Judaism’s answer is both.

True maturity is not meant to replace innocence, but to build upon it. Our wisdom and accomplishments should be fueled by the same sincerity, humility, and wholehearted devotion that defined our earliest years.

This balance is the key to a meaningful life: to live as G d’s “firstborn,” using our gifts to make a real impact, while remaining His “youngest child,” grounded in purity and faith. When we harmonize these two qualities, we do not age out of inspiration. We mature into it, carrying forward the same pure energy that first stirred us to want to make a difference.

Where does my inspiration come from?

Friday, January 2, 2026 - 3:30 PM

I want to share something personal today.

As a rabbi and Torah teacher, many people rely on me as a channel for inspiration, through classes, sermons and one on one conversations. It is not something I take lightly.

Every so often though, someone asks me: Rabbi, where do you go for inspiration?

Jacob, before his passing, asked that he be buried immediately in Israel. Joseph, however, made a very different request. He asked that his coffin be brought to Israel only when the Jewish people themselves would leave Egypt and return home. During the long and painful years of exile, Joseph chose to remain with his people, even after his passing. The physical presence of Joseph among them served as a source of strength and inspiration, helping them endure the difficult road ahead.

As for me, yes, I study Torah daily and draw inspiration from it. I am inspired by rabbis and teachers, and quite honestly, by the people in our own community who are taking steps forward in their Jewish lives. Seeing enthusiastic growth and sincere commitment in others is deeply inspiring to me.

But above all, a profound source of inspiration for me comes from visiting the resting place of the Rebbe, the ‘Ohel’. The Rebbe, who appreciated the holiness and preciousness of the Land of Israel more than anyone else, nevertheless chose to forgo those spiritual comforts and remain here in the United States. He did so for one reason: so that we would have more access to inspiration and guidance, through prayers at his holy site.

Thousands of people from all walks of life visit the Ohel every day, at all hours. Jews and non-Jews, laypeople and leaders alike. Much like Joseph, who remained with his people to ease their exilic experience, the Rebbe’s Ohel in New York continues to serve as a powerful source of inspiration for me and for countless others.

Many of you have made that visit together with Esty or myself, whether individually or as part of a group. We’re always open to assisting anyone who would like to make a visit, please feel free to reach out.

May we merit very soon the time when we will all return together to the Holy Land. Until then, may we continue to draw strength from our leaders who never leave their people.