ב"ה

Rabbi's weekly Blog

Even greater good

Friday, June 26, 2026 - 6:16 AM

It's very easy for us to read and study Parshat Balak because we already know there's a happy ending. We know that the curses were transformed into blessings—and not just ordinary blessings, but some of the greatest blessings the Jewish people have ever received.

But imagine for a moment the Jewish people in the wilderness. They already knew they had the power to win wars through their prayers and through Moses prayers. Then along comes Balak, who learns from the very best. He brings a prophet who knows how to strike at their greatest strength. Like every smart enemy, he learns from the mistakes of others. Moab's intelligence officers did their homework and studied their opponent very well. If today our enemies import scientists and expertise from around the world to build systems capable of overcoming our defenses, in those days they did the very same thing: they brought in a system designed to overcome the Jewish people's spiritual defenses.

I'm sure the people were under tremendous pressure. They were certainly afraid—especially if they listened to the pessimists and self-proclaimed experts predicting disaster.

The Jewish people in the wilderness had no idea how the story would end. They didn't know that the curses would become blessings. Naturally, they were shaken and frightened. They entered an agonizing period of waiting, wondering what the next day would bring. They probably stocked up on cases of water and canned food, and who knows, maybe even generators, just in case the forecast of 48 to 72 hours without power throughout the camp actually came true. After all, the situation looked very serious.

And even after those nerve-racking days had passed and the curses had indeed turned into blessings, they still could not foresee what those blessings would ultimately lead to.

Even those who firmly believed that G-d always loves them, that everything would ultimately be for the good—indeed, for an even greater good—and who sang those words over and over again with joy and dancing, could never have imagined that Balak, the king who fought against them, the one about whom the Midrash says, "He hated Israel more than all other enemies," would become the ancestor of Ruth, whose descendant would establish the Jewish monarchy.

I learned all of this from the Rebbe, in a talk delivered on Shabbat Parshat Chukat–Balak, 5746 (1986). The Rebbe derives from this a timeless lesson for every Jew in every situation.

Whenever we find ourselves facing what appears to be a curse—and who among us does not struggle at times with fear, anxiety, darkness, or uncertainty?—the secret is to remember that everything G-d does is for the good. Every curse will ultimately be transformed into a blessing. And not merely into a blessing, but into something far, far greater than we could ever imagine or predict.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Zalman Wishedski

Go out and act

Friday, June 19, 2026 - 4:48 AM

The Rabbi of St. Petersburg came into the office of the head of the community, placed his keys on the table and said, “I am resigning my position as rabbi!”

The head of the community was startled: “Rabbi, why?”

And the Rabbi answered: I am resigning because an old lady came to me yesterday and asked a question for which I had no answer. And since I see my role as being that of answering questions, I am resigning.”

The head of community, still in shock, asked some more: “Rabbi, what question could an old, simple Jewish lady ask for which the rabbi of St. Petersburg has no answer?”

“The old lady, came in,” answered the Rabbi, “banged on the table and shouted: “Rabbi, who needs you here?!?”

“And I,” continued the Rabbi, “have been walking around for two days trying unsuccessfully to figure out the answer to that question.”

In this week’s parasha, we see that Moshe Rabbeinu had to cope with the same question. But his solution was not to resign, not even to stay within the confines of his office; rather, he went out and acted.

The war of Korach and his group – headed by the troublemakers Datan and Aviram – was coming to a head. They, in their audacity, were shouting and saying to Moshe Rabbeinu: Rabbi, who needs you here? And Moshe, he sent for them; he just wanted to plead with them. Bu they refused to his request, and said, “We will not come up.” Hashem had already told Moshe to move away from them, because soon the earth will open up and swallow Korach and all of his cohorts. “Come up from around the dwelling of Korach, Datan and Aviram.” But Moshe did not give up yet. He put his own personal honor and reputation on the line and still tried to talk to them. “And Moshe got up and went to Datan and Aviram.” The faithful shepherd didn’t give up as long as there was some hope. He got up and went to them in one last attempt to return them to the fold.

Moshe Rabbeinu’s way of handling things as the leader of the nation is the essence of the shlichut – the mission – that the Lubavitcher Rebbe taught everyone. The Rebbe demanded from everyone – his shluchim, his chassidim, and really from anyone who came in contact with him, directly or through his teachings – that they be activists; that they should set aside their own honor and egoistic calculations that say, “He should come to me if he wants me.” Go out into the world, said the Rebbe. Go out to every man, woman and child, with light, love and authentic Jewish warmth. Bring the good that is within you to every place and every person.

As we come from Gimmel Tammuz, which was observed yesterday, it is fitting that we remember this message. It is only right that we should remember this message. This is the task of Moshe Rabbeinu. This is the approach of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, and also that of anyone who wishes to devote himself or herself to his way: to leave the warm and comfortable haven, to move beyond one’s emotional limitations – to go out there and disseminate warmth, love and joy.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Zalmen Wishedski

Turn the world upside down today!

Friday, June 12, 2026 - 5:33 AM

When I studied at Oholei Torah Yeshiva in New York in 1996–97, there was a student who made sure to show us, every evening or at least every few days, a short video clip of the Rebbe speaking with extraordinary pathos, pain, intensity, emotion, and seriousness about how every Jew should relate to the fact that the Redemption has still not come and that the Holy Temple has not yet been rebuilt.

The clip was from the farbrengen of Yud-Beis Tammuz 5744 (1984). I only wish I could convey in writing what one experiences when hearing and seeing the Rebbe cry out:

“The request we make every day, ‘May our eyes behold Your return to Zion,’ is not a matter of mourning over an ancient tragedy. Rather, the destruction is something that continues every single day.

As it is explicitly stated in the Jerusalem Talmud: ‘Every generation in whose days the Temple is not rebuilt is considered as though it had destroyed it.’ In other words, although nearly 1,900 years have passed since the destruction of the Temple, nevertheless, since on this very day—Thursday of Parshas Pinchas (the day on which the Rebbe spoke these words in 1984)—the Temple has not been rebuilt, it is as though the Temple was destroyed on this very Thursday of Parshas Pinchas!

Accordingly, after the Jewish people cried out ‘Until when?!’ yesterday, the day before, and on all the days before that, and nevertheless on this day the Temple remains destroyed—it is understood how much greater the cry of ‘Until when?!’ must be today!

And, as mentioned, this is not merely a clever homiletic interpretation. It is a clear ruling in Torah law: every generation in whose days the Temple is not rebuilt is considered as though it destroyed it.

Imagine: if a Jew were standing and watching the Temple being destroyed and burned right now—even if he were a hard person, with a heart of stone—he would turn the world upside down. And regarding this, the Torah—the Torah of Truth and the Torah of Life—tells him: Turn the world upside down today!”

I imagine that every Chabad chassid reading these words can see before his mind’s eye and hear the Rebbe’s cry in Yiddish: “Ker a velt haynt!” — “Turn the world upside down today!”

We stand now on the eve of the Shabbat before the Rebbe’s yahrzeit, the 3rd of Tammuz. I want to learn from the Rebbe, to understand his way of thinking, to see the world through his lenses. In these words of the Rebbe there are two foundational principles that have the power to change a person’s life.

The first is that, in the most profound way, the Rebbe took Torah with absolute seriousness. On the most straightforward level, Torah is *Torat Emet*—the Torah of Truth—and *Torat Chayim*—the Torah of Life. If it is truth, then there are no winks, no exaggerations, no statements made by mistake, and nothing that has become irrelevant. And if it is truly alive, then it is relevant at all times, because something that is alive only occasionally is not truly alive. Truth lives constantly.

Therefore, Torah is both the Torah of Truth and the Torah of Life. If the Jerusalem Talmud teaches that every generation in whose days the Temple is not rebuilt is considered as though it destroyed it, then that is the simple truth. And if so, how can a person remain at ease when the Temple is being destroyed in his own days?

The second point, and to me an extraordinarily essential one, is what might be called a quintessentially Lubavitcher Rebbe approach.

I would have thought that a person who witnesses destruction before his eyes, who experiences devastation—especially when faced with overwhelming forces that have destroyed the Holy Temple—would naturally react with discouragement, despair, a lack of motivation to get out of bed in the morning, perhaps even with a sense of victimhood and resignation. And no one would judge him. After all, we are only human.

But not the Lubavitcher Rebbe.

In the very midst of that cry—and anyone who has seen the video knows how alive and intense his pain was—the Rebbe describes a Jew watching the Temple burn. Yet at that very moment, in the most seemingly natural way, the Jew does not despair and does not collapse. He immediately begins to “turn the world upside down” in order to change the situation.

Whether he has great abilities or small ones, whether he is important in his own eyes or not, whether his actions are large or small—all of that is irrelevant. What matters is that at that moment he understands that there is only one thing to do: use whatever tools he has been given and act immediately to change the situation, to transform the world.

And as the Rebbe cries out from the depths of his heart:

“Ker a velt haynt!” — “Turn the world upside down today!”

The message is clear.

All of us face struggles and challenges, accompanied by various forms of pain. A person who puts on the Rebbe’s glasses will be occupied not with surrendering to the situation, but with asking: How do I continue building? How do I move forward? How do I work to change this reality for the better?

Ker a velt haynt.

And speaking of turning the world upside down with the tools available to us: a Shlucha, Devorah Leah bas Yehudis, the wife of a dear friend of mine, is in need of a complete recovery. We know and have always known that teshuvah, tefillah, and tzedakah have the power to annul a harsh decree.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Zalman Wishedski

What Do You Think About When You Say “With G-d’s Help”?

Friday, June 5, 2026 - 6:12 AM

“With G-d’s help” is an expression we hear ourselves saying many times each day. Assuming we actually think about the words we say, it is interesting to ask: What do people mean when they say, “With G-d’s help”?

Over time, I have come to understand that “with G-d’s help” has one very simple meaning: G-d will help. He most certainly will help. He is always here to help. As Rabbi Shimon ben Levi said in the Talmud (Kiddushin 30b):

“A person’s evil inclination overpowers him every day and seeks to kill him… and were it not for the Holy One, blessed be He, helping him, he would not be able to overcome it.”

But—and this is an important “but”—He will only help. My role is to act, to do, to make the effort, and He will help me, with G-d’s help.

Our Sages said:

“Open for Me an opening the size of a needle’s eye, and I will open for you an opening as wide as a great hall” (Shir HaShirim Rabbah 5:3).

The Creator of the world is saying: I am ready to open for you a gateway as wide as a grand hall. I am ready to help you in every way. But it all begins with your effort. Even if your opening is tiny and narrow, like the eye of a needle, make it. Open the door, and I will already be there to open it into a great hall. That is the meaning of “with G-d’s help.”

This week’s Torah portion, Beha’alotecha (which we will read tomorrow outside of Israel), describes how the Kohen lights the lamps of the golden Menorah in the Holy Temple. He prepares the lamps and kindles them until “the flame rises on its own.”

In other words, the goal is not for the Kohen to stand there forever tending the lamps and reigniting the fire. Rather, the lamp and the flame should burn independently. More than that, the flame should become one that “rises on its own.” The light should grow stronger, brighter, and higher than it was at the moment it was first lit by the Kohen. We see this in a simple physical sense: when a wick is first lit, the flame is small and weak, but gradually it rises, strengthens, and develops its full form.

As with everything else, the Rebbe, in a talk delivered on Shabbat Beha’alotecha 5750 (1990), translates the Temple service into a personal, practical lesson for our own lives.

The Menorah represents the human being. The light represents the Divine soul that pulsates within us. The Kohen who kindles the flame represents the Holy One, blessed be He, who ignites that flame, connecting body and soul and making them into one radiant unity.

As King Solomon says in Proverbs, “The soul of man is the lamp of G-d.”

Like the Kohen, G-d stands ready with the fire, prepared to bring it to the lamp and ignite it. Indeed, He does ignite our Menorah. But how brightly it will shine, how enduring that light will be, how powerful it will become, and most importantly, whether the flame will rise on its own—that depends on us.

As the Rebbe explains, “That the flame should rise on its own” means that the Jew chooses this through his own inner strength—in a world that conceals G-dliness and leaves room for two possible paths—so that his soul shines openly and illuminates even the body, until he comes to recognize that his very body is a ‘Menorah made entirely of gold.’

How do we accomplish this?

Perhaps sometimes it simply requires choosing it. Wanting it. Looking at it and saying: Yes, I want this.

And even if, at first, my heart is not yet on board, it is only because I have not yet allowed my Divine soul to show it the goodness contained within it. The heart seeks what is good and pleasant. Sometimes all that is required is to let it see, as the Psalmist says, “Taste and see that G-d is good.”

Chassidim would often translate this verse into Yiddish and repeat it to themselves in a language their soul instinctively understood:

“Try it and see that the Eibershter is good.”

One more practical thought:

When we encounter a particular difficulty or stand before a challenge that seems especially daunting, before we throw up our hands and say, “G-d will help,” we should remember that He will only help.

We must first make the effort and take one more step toward the goal—even a very small step, an opening no larger than the eye of a needle. Then He will help and open for us a gateway as wide as a great hall.

To me, this is the preparation required to receive G-d’s assistance.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Zalman Wishedski

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