Rabbi's Blog

When it comes to personal character development, many of us find ourselves working hard to gain mastery over a certain behavior or trait. Staying patient with our kids, being kind to our spouse, limiting screen time, cultivating generosity or maintaining healthy eating habits.

We might succeed for a while, feeling proud of our progress, only to suddenly stumble and find ourselves in the same struggle again. It can feel like we’re right back where we started. The battle is just as hard as ever, and we begin to wonder: Have I made any real progress? Did any of my efforts even matter?

This can leave us feeling dejected and drained. How do we stay motivated if it all seems like a never-ending cycle?

Here’s the necessary paradigm shift: Instead of focusing on whether we’ve permanently overcome the issue, we ask a much simpler, more powerful question. What’s the right thing to do right now, in this moment? That’s where our energy belongs, making the best possible choice with what’s in front of us right now.

Will we still be making the right choice a week from now? A month from now? That’s not ours to know, and it’s not the point. We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.

The good news is this: when we keep showing up and choosing well in the present moment, those small wins really do add up. Over time, they shape our character and move us forward. But we must remain humble and vigilant because true growth is rarely linear.

G-d didn’t place us here to be perfect. He placed us here to keep showing up, one small win at a time.

It was not long after my Bar Mitzvah. A visiting rabbi from Kansas was chatting with my father, of blessed memory, after Synagogue services. At some point he turned to me, gave me a warm pat on the back and said, “You look like a very fine and promising young man.” I knew I was just a mischievous 13-year-old but his kind words, spoken with warmth and a smile, stuck with me. I never forgot them.

This week we read Emor, which means “Speak.” The name itself teaches us that words matter deeply. A simple sentence spoken in passing can either weigh heavily on someone’s heart or light a spark within them. A negative comment can discourage or even define a person. But just as real, and even more powerful, is how a positive word can uplift, affirm and awaken someone’s hidden strengths. People often become who we speak them into being.

Our sages taught, “Judge every person favorably.” That doesn't just mean giving someone the benefit of the doubt. It also means focusing on the ‘favorable’ parts of who they are. G-d placed every soul in a unique set of circumstances and with that gave them the inner strength to rise to their challenges. When we focus on that strength, when we choose to see and speak to the good, we can actually help people grow into it. We elevate them simply by believing in who they can become.

When we continuously highlight the positive in another person, their negative behaviors or traits can eventually fade away in the presence of such overwhelming positivity.

This week, the world lost a giant with the passing of Rabbi Sholom Lipskar, founder and leader of the iconic Shul of Bal Harbour, Florida. I won’t do justice to his life in this brief column, but I will do my best in this limited space.

I was 18 when I went to study in Yeshiva in Miami. During that year, my friend Yirmi Berkowitz and I began a Friday afternoon routine. We would take a taxi from South Beach to Bal Harbour and visit Jewish business people along Harding Ave. sharing a mitzvah, a thought, and warm Shabbat wishes.

On our first Friday, we felt it was only right to seek the blessing of the community’s rabbi. Rabbi Lipskar stopped what he was doing, welcomed us warmly to his office then gave us a tour of the stunning Shul, and offered guidance, practical tips, and encouragement before we began our mission.

After that encounter, something clicked. “I want to be a rabbi like Rabbi Lipskar.” Although I knew I wasn’t nearly as talented, I was deeply inspired to apply his approach, his boldness, clarity and sense of purpose, in ways that were true to who I am, wherever and whatever I will be doing.

Like many Chabad centers, his Shul began humbly in a storefront, with him standing on the corner looking for that proverbial tenth man. Today, it spans an entire block of Collins Ave. He also founded the Aleph Institute, serving the largely-overlooked Jewish population in prisons and the military across the USA.

He would often say “The entirety of Jewish organizations are reaching 20 percent of the Jewish community. What are we doing to make a dent in the other 80 percent?” His innovative outreach was not driven by pressure, but by empowerment and conviction. He looked far beyond the easy and familiar, broadening the scope of what a Chabad rabbi and rebbetzin could accomplish. His approach was visionary, elegant, principled and purposeful. Above all, he conveyed a constant sense of urgency, a drive to make every moment count in service of the Rebbe. That urgency inspired me then and continues to guide me now.

When I was working at Chabad HQ, a colleague and I were in Florida and hoped to meet with him. He told us he would see us as soon as he finished his day’s work. Our meeting began just before midnight. That moment stayed with me. He was entirely devoted to his mission and still made time, meaningful and unrushed, for others and their causes. He was fully present.

Over the years, I had the privilege of consulting with him on various occasions. His wisdom was always shared generously, with clarity and sensitivity.  Though he built monumental institutions, he never lost sight of the individual. His teachings and personal example moved thousands to embrace their Jewish identity more fully, uplifted by the power of their soul.

Rabbi Lipskar was learned, articulate, broad-minded, and relentless in his dedication until his final day. He lived with purpose and an unquenchable appetite to do even more. More than anyone, I believe he shaped my generation’s understanding of how to carry yourself as a Shliach, a full-time ambassador of the Rebbe. So much of the language and methodology with which we reach out to fellow Jews today finds its roots in his example.

It was no surprise that when we founded our Chabad in Bellaire, we named it The Shul of Bellaire, modeled after the simple but brilliant concept of The Shul.

May his family be comforted as they carry forward the monumental work he began. His legacy lives on in the community he built and in the countless hearts he inspired.