Rabbi's Blog - The Shul of Bellaire

Reflections on Our 20th

Friday, May 29, 2026 - 4:24 PM

I’ve been reflecting on what makes for a good and enduring relationship. Over the years, I’ve asked couples celebrating a 40th or 50th anniversary what their secret is, and some of the answers have been surprisingly simple: “Marriage is a choice. I choose my spouse every single day.”

Those words carry more depth than we may realize.

When two people first meet, they may be drawn to certain qualities in one another. Kindness. Beauty. Personality. Shared interests. But the reality is that over the course of life, all of those things can evolve and change. Circumstances change. Stages of life change. And if a relationship is built only on specific qualities or conveniences, what happens when those things shift?

A lasting marriage means that the relationship runs deeper than any single characteristic. It is not merely love for certain qualities. It is a soulful bond that transcends the qualities themselves. Marriage means: “I choose you,” because our connection itself has become essential and unconditional.

Interestingly, we just celebrated Shavuot, the holiday that commemorates the marriage between G-d and the Jewish people. And unlike other major Jewish holidays, Shavuot has almost no defining physical features.

On Passover we eat matzah and sit at a Seder. On Sukkot we sit in the Sukkah and wave the Four Species. But Shavuot has no central physical symbol at all. Why?

Because Shavuot represents something deeper than symbolism. It represents commitment itself. At Sinai, G-d chose the Jewish people, and the Jewish people chose G-d. A marriage. An unconditional bond. Any external feature would almost distract from the essence of the day.

And perhaps this idea affects Judaism in our own lives as well. If we do things only because of the benefits they provide us, then the moment those benefits weaken or disappear, our commitment may disappear with them. For example, if the only reason a person values Shabbat is because it creates beautiful family time, what happens later in life when the children grow older and leave the house, or when life becomes busier and more complicated? But when something is rooted in identity, purpose, and an unconditional bond, it endures through changing circumstances and is far more likely to be passed on to our children and grandchildren as well.

Is there such a thing as “enough” charity?

Friday, May 8, 2026 - 4:17 PM

American Jews are among the most charitable groups in the country, giving far beyond our small 2% of the population. It is one of the beautiful qualities of our community. And while Judaism certainly teaches concern for humanity as a whole, it also teaches that it comes only after our own community’s needs are taken care of.

This leads to a broader question: what actually motivates a person to give?

At the first and most basic level, a person gives because they are feeling generous today and want to do something good. There is certainly value in that. But naturally, the giving usually lasts only until one’s own emotional need is satisfied. Once the person feels they have “done something nice,” the motivation fades.

At a deeper level, a person gives because they are responding to a specific need. Someone is struggling. A school needs support. A family needs help. A community has to reach a goal. In this case, people often give far more than they originally planned, because they genuinely want to see the need addressed.

But then there is a higher level still. Those rare individuals in the community with an insatiable appetite for giving, not only because it feels good, and not only because there is a need, but because generosity becomes part of who they are. They stop viewing charity as a transaction and begin viewing it as a relationship with G d.

Often, we approach giving with endless calculations. We first need to determine exactly what amount feels fully comfortable, or we need to get permission from our financial advisor. Of course responsibility matters, and Judaism does not ask us to be reckless. But at the same time, a life of meaning can never be built only around comfort and calculation. Sometimes you need to go beyond and give it all you have got.

When it comes to our physical health, or the wellbeing of someone we love, we never say that we have spent enough. We go far beyond what feels convenient. Judaism asks us to see goodness the same way. To keep growing. To keep giving. To keep stretching ourselves beyond the comfort zone.

And, I have yet to meet someone who truly regretted the charity they gave.

Is your last holiday over yet?

Monday, May 4, 2026 - 9:32 AM

Yesterday, a British friend told me he was going on holiday. Of course, he meant vacation. It struck me how differently that word is used. In America, a holiday usually means a special day on the calendar. In much of the world, a holiday means time away, time to recharge, time to reset.

But in truth, our Jewish holidays are both. They are sacred days to celebrate, but they are also meant to refresh us, educate us, and carry us forward long after the day itself has passed.

Just think about Passover. Nobody experiences Passover only on the night of the Seder. Weeks beforehand, homes are cleaned, food is prepared, plans are made, excitement builds. And afterward, its message is meant to remain with us: freedom from our limitations, and faith in G-d. Similarly, Shavuot, just a few weeks away, teaches us our mission and purpose in life. Rosh Hashanah calls us to reflection and renewal. Yom Kippur teaches us to return to our truest identity. Sukkot reminds us of joy in life, and trust in G-d.

Which brings us to today, the “Second Passover.” In Temple times, it gave a second chance to those who were unable to bring the Passover offering at the proper time a month earlier. But its message is timeless: it is never too late. We may miss an opportunity the first time, but it is never necessarily lost. There is always the ability to return, to repair, and to make it right.

The goal of a Jewish holiday is not just to celebrate it while it is here. It is to internalize its message so deeply that it influences the months before it, and the months after it as well, all year round.

A holiday is not meant to interrupt life. It is meant to elevate life. So perhaps the question is not only, “How will I observe the next holiday?” But also: “What part of it will still be with me when it is over?”