Rabbi's Blog

This weekend we enter the final month of the Jewish year, the month of Elul. One month before Rosh Hashanah, now is a great time for some honest reflection, a “soul inventory” of the past year.

Among other things, we look at how our relationships have fared, both with G-d and with one another, and consider how we can strengthen them in the year ahead.

Let’s start with relationships in our lives. In a healthy marriage, each spouse is committed to the other, not only when it’s convenient or when the request makes perfect sense, but always. What happens when our partner asks for something that we don’t fully understand? Of course we do it, but the real question is: how do we do it with joy, instead of begrudgingly?

The answer lies in shifting our focus. Instead of fixating on what is being asked, we focus on Who is asking. When love is at the center, the “what” becomes secondary, the act itself is cherished because it deepens the bond with the one we love.

This is exactly how our relationship with G-d works. Some mitzvot may resonate with us more while others less so, but when we remember Who is asking, every mitzvah becomes an opportunity to connect with our Creator. What greater privilege and purpose could there be in life than for little me to do something for G-d Himself?

This theme is actually embedded in the Shema that we recite daily. In the first paragraph, we focus on our relationship with G-d. Only afterward, in the second paragraph, do we embrace the specific mitzvot He asks of us. First comes the Who, then the “what” is so much easier.

Even the very name of this month carries the message: Elul is an acronym for Ani Ledodi V’dodi Li - “I am for my Beloved, and my Beloved is for me.” This month invites us to think deeply about the Who, so that when the High Holidays arrive, we can show up fully, with excitement and with love.

Our kids have enthusiastically embraced the tradition that on holidays they walk the neighborhood to spread the joy and spirit of a holiday, whether it’s Sukkot, Chanukah or sharing the gift of Passover matzah. How do they know which homes are Jewish? Of course, by checking to see if there’s a Mezuzah.

What’s unique about this Mitzvah?

Many Jewish observances take place in the comfort of our homes. Enjoying a Shabbat Kiddush and dinner on Friday night, the women lighting the candles, as well as Torah study and personal prayer, and more, all in the home. But what happens when we leave our home? Does my Jewish identity come with me?

The Mezuzah is uniquely positioned at the threshold between the inside and the outside. It teaches us that our Judaism is not meant to be left behind, limited to the inside. We take it with us into the world.

With antisemitism on the rise, a foreign thought can creep into the Jewish psyche: if I tuck in my Jewish star necklace, remove my Mezuzah or my kippah, maybe I’ll be safer.

That is a mistake, for at least three reasons:

1. History shows it doesn’t work. Antisemitism is not about what we wear, it is about who we are. Disguising ourselves never stopped the hatred, it only weakened our own spirit.
2. Visibility inspires strength in others. When one Jew proudly walks with a visible Jewish symbol, it sends a ripple of courage to others. Your pride might be exactly what gives someone else the strength to do the same.
3. Retreat emboldens the haters. Hiding signals that their intimidation is working. Standing tall with pride sends the opposite message: we are unshaken, and we are here to stay.

In this light, during this season leading up to the New Year, we are extending the offer we recently made. Thanks to a generous friend, anyone who would like to put up a Mezuzah on their home, or add another Mezuzah to an additional doorway, will receive one as a gift from The Shul to help you make it happen.

Let’s take the Mezuzah to heart. When we leave our home, we take our Judaism with us with pride. This is how we live as a “light unto the nations” for all to see.

Public schools in Houston are starting again on August 12th. Wow! 

It’s a time when many parents meet their children’s new teachers for the first time, wondering: What qualities will this teacher have? Will they see the light in my child? Will they really care about my child?

If you think back to your own youth, you can probably identify that one teacher who went above and beyond the call of duty. I can recall exactly who that was for me. They may not have been the greatest scholar or the most captivating speaker, but they stood out because they truly cared. And as the saying goes: no one cares how much you know, until they know how much you care.

What does the Torah have to say about the mission of an educator, a teacher, a parent, a rabbi, anyone in a position of influence?

This week we learn about the scenario of an inadvertent killer, someone who accidentally took a life. The law is that such a person must be sent into exile to a designated “city of refuge,” both as a way to atone for the act and to protect them from any relative who might seek vengeance.

Here's the fascinating part: when a student is exiled to the city of refuge, their teacher is obligated to go into exile with them, to continue teaching them and cultivating their growth.

Think about it. This was not the teacher’s “star student.” This was someone who ended up in serious trouble, even if by mistake. Yet the teacher is obligated to join his student in exile and cannot write them off. If they were in your class in the first place, that means they have at least a seed of interest and potential. And if that seed is worked with, cultivated and shaped with genuine care and devotion, it can still flourish.

The message is clear: a true influencer is willing to leave their comfort zone, to step into uncomfortable or even undesirable situations, to ensure that every individual under their care gets the attention they need to reach their full potential. I think back to the teacher who saw the light in me when others did not, and I realize that is what we are all called to be for someone else.