Years ago, when I arrived in Israel, I made friends with a young man from the East Coast who was also at the beginning of his spiritual journey. Both of our paths would ultimately take us into the rabbinate, but that is where the similarities ended. He found his people among the disciples of Rebbe Nachman, the Breslovers or Nachmanites, smiling Jews you often see in Jerusalem with a special knit kippah, leaping from their cars to dance at red lights, and playing loud upbeat club tunes remixed with Jewish themes.

The best known and most important teaching of Rebbe Nachman, and perhaps the hardest one to follow, is this. It is a great mitzvah to ALWAYS be happy.

“Serve God with Joy!” says the Psalmist, and the great rabbi took this quite literally, teaching that depression, sadness, and despair are the tools of the evil inclination – distancing your soul from God. Instead, choose happiness and joy, as this will bring you closer to the Holy One.

I always found this teaching simultaneously inspiring and impossible. Life is full of emotions other than joy. Sadness and loss are normal and human. Grief, too, has its place in the Jewish world, sanctified and ritualized by our rituals and prayers. Always be happy? Always?

One day I asked my friend, now fully immersed in this world, how did he do it!? How did he always, authentically, find happiness when the world was dark or when pain filled his life? He smiled (because of course he smiled), and what he said next has stayed with me ever since.

“When I am broken-hearted… I do a mitzvah.”

There’s a lot of tsurrus in the world right now, many reasons to be upset or angry, scared or sad. From personal grief to national worry, international concern for our Jewish people to immediate loss in our Holy Blossom community. Telling you ‘Don’t be sad, or scared, don’t grieve or be concerned’ is not my Torah. But that little twist, that ray of light and hope that my friend taught me years ago, it has stuck and become my personal practice.

When you are broken-hearted, do a mitzvah. Do the mitzvah that you are suited for. Prayer and action; learn, serve, teach! And if you don’t yet know what mitzvah suits you there is one I particularly want to recommend.

Please join us in bringing donations of shelf stable food to the Janis Rotman Tzedakah Centre, right inside the doors of the shul, and leave them there for our dedicated volunteers to fill the tiny pantries. In this way we care for our anonymous neighbours, in fulfillment of the teachings of Maimonides. Each small donation makes a big difference in the life of a fellow traveller up and down Bathurst St.

For as Maimonides teaches…

“No harm has ever come from the giving of tzedakah, nor has anything bad come from it, as it is written ‘The work of tzedakah, is shalom.’” Mishneh Torah, Gifts to the Poor, 10:2.

Moment by moment, step by step, mitzvah by mitzvah, we find our Shalom.

Shalom for our world. Shalom within.

This week, happy or sad, whether the world is breaking your heart or not, listen to my friend. Go and do a Mitzvah.

For a few weeks, my little girl loved the bad guy.  

My daughter has been in love with Paw Patrol for many years now, the children’s animated series where a team of colour coordinated puppies drive emergency vehicles and solve all of life’s problems in 15 minute increments. Her favorite is the red one, Marshal, the dalmatian firefighter. But, for a few weeks, she was also a big fan of the ‘bad guy,’ the arrogant purple top hat wearing, mischief making, Mayor Humdinger. 

“Why do you like him?” I asked her one day. 

“He’s so funny!” She replied.  

“But you know he’s not very nice, right? He’s the bad guy sweetheart.” She frowned at that; I could see that the wheels were spinning.   

She looked me dead in the eye. “Abba… is it ok to like him a little bit?”  

I think we all like the bad guys a little bit. Or at least, we find them interesting. From fictional villains like Darth Vader and Walter White to the real life historical figures that dominate our bookshelves. Of course it’s good to cheer for the heroes, but who can deny that there’s something fascinating about the other side. 

Starting on Wednesday January 21st, I’ll be teaching a weekly 10 part course “Heresy and Revolutions” focusing on some of Judaism’s’ “Bad Guys.” We’ll begin with the Talmudic origins of Alesha ben Abuya, Rabbinic Judaism’s first ‘heretic’. Then we’ll make a stop in the 1600’s to meet the man who claimed to be Moshiach, the one and only Shabbatai Tzvi. Finally, we’ll close our time with a group of revolutionaries who many people felt were going to destroy Judaism at the turn of the 20th century. Little did they know that these early Zionists would turn out to be heroes instead. 

Students at all levels of learning and Jewish literacy are welcome. Class is hybrid accessible. Texts will be provided. 

You can learn more and register for a trip to the dark side here.  

Next Shabbat will mark the one-year anniversary of the time that, less than 50 yards from Holy Blossom, I was nearly eaten by coyotes.  

Well… maybe that’s not quite true. But it certainly felt that way at the time. 

It was Selichot. Our guest scholar in residence, the esteemed Rabbi Shai Held, had just finished a remarkable teaching on “Judaism is About Love.” We still had half an hour, maybe a bit more, until the gorgeous tefilla in the sanctuary would cap off our evening. I remember my anticipation about how meaningful it would feel, especially last year, to change the Torah mantels to white.  

Rabbi Held was dancing at two weddings that night, and I had the pleasure of accompanying him down Peveril Hill to Beth Tzedec. After dropping him off, and wishing him a Shanah Tovah, I turned around and started to make my way back to Holy Blossom. Halfway up the block I stopped in my tracks, taken aback as I noticed a large odd-looking dog stepping out from the shadows and onto the street. Where was its owner? 

Then I heard a noise behind me. Turning around, coming out from the yard behind me, only a few feet away, were two more creatures of the same breed, smaller. Realization dawned. These were not dogs.  

Despite being less than block from shul, in the middle of Toronto, I was surrounded by coyotes.  

I remember the most surreal thought entered my mind, “The books of life and death are open… is this really what God wrote for me? Who by Coyotes?” 

Nothing happened. I remembered what I was taught at Jewish summer camp in the Rocky Mountains about wild animals, to make myself look big, call out with loud noises, and clap a lot. The family of coyotes immediately ran off. 

As for me, I walked into the building, put on my tallit, and prayed my vidui with an extra note of fervent gratitude. I would yet see Rosh Hashanah.   

This year I have no doubts that my own Selichot experience is going to be far less exciting… but our communal Selichot is going to be just as important, beautiful, and resonant. Our teacher and friend, Rabbi Prof. Michael Marmur, is returning to us from Jerusalem to teach about his esteemed and important new book “Living the Letters: An Alphabet of Emerging Jewish Thought.” Those of us who have studied with Rabbi Marmur know that, like his father, he is a masterful teacher. His beautiful lessons will bring incredible honor and merit to our community and to the memory of Rabbi Mark Dov Shapiro z’l.  

Selichot 5785 – Holy Blossom Temple 

Joining us for Selichot this year, on Saturday September 13th, is the perfect way to enhance your High Holiday experience. Come and learn good Torah, enjoy a sweet nosh, hear stunning music, and set the tone of your heart for a meaningful and reflective New Year. 

And I can promise you, that at least inside the walls of Holy Blossom Temple, there will be no coyotes.   

The Torah’s Worst Influencer  

 Last month, I fell victim to the algorithm.  

As many of you know, I grew up in Denver, Colorado. So, when a terrorist attack targeted the Jewish community in Boulder, just 45 minutes away, it hit me hard. I couldn’t stop reading news, scrolling through profiles, listening to the stories of the victims, and learning about the attacker.  

I even read the comments.  

I stopped sleeping well, I was anxious and nervous to be in public… and the portal of unlimited knowledge in my pocket, my phone, certainly wasn’t helping. It kept feeding me a steady drip of poisonous material that I greedily consumed.  

I knew it was bad…and so I did the only sensible thing I could think of. I uninstalled the last remnant I had of social media. Within days, I felt like myself again. A month later, I don’t miss it at all.  

In the Talmud, our Rabbis ascribe a specific and special ability to the wicked prophet Bilaam, who appears in our Torah portion this week. They argue that Bilaam’s great power is not that he is a normal prophet, who understands the mind of God. Rather, Bilaam’s talent is that he knows the exact moment when God is angry, that he knows what to say to get God even angrier, and that he can exploit that for his own benefit.  

Bilaam is, for the purpose of this story, the negative algorithm on social media. God, this person is sinning. This person is cruel. This person is hateful. This person doesn’t care. This person is causing pain. This person… etc., etc. Just like when we are doom-scrolling. A terrible flood. A war. An injustice. An unanswerable cruelty. Oy. Yet we can’t look away. Our hearts harden at the sight of it.  

Balaam’s plan is to get God good and angry, by showing God all of the failures and foibles of humanity, so that the Jewish people will receive a terrible fate, and a miserable curse. Of course, as we read in our Torah portion this week, his plan is foiled and God exercises compassion and restraint, and transforms negativity, curses, and spite into an eternal blessing.  

While not everyone can ‘log out’ of social media, I encourage everyone to internalize the lesson of this parshah. From its most ancient words to its most modern relevancies. There have always been outside forces right now that seek, sometimes openly and sometimes quietly, to affect the way we think, feel, and act. 

But, like Bilaams curse, these influences do not need to determine our actions. We write the blessings of our lives with our choices, our faith, and our hopes.  

מַה־טֹּבוּ אֹהָלֶיךָ יַעֲקֹב מִשְׁכְּנֹתֶיךָ יִשְׂרָאֵל׃ 

How good are your tents oh Jacob, your dwellings places Israel. 

May it always be so.  

At Tot Shabbat there’s a moment we call for “mazel moments!” Mazel moments are the things we have accomplished since we last were together, good and exciting life cycle events, and other expressions of gratitude. At Tot Shabbat there’s often a wiggly tooth, a birthday, or a new baby sibling.  

My mazel moment, which I am honoured and excited to announce, is that I have been accepted into the prestigious Amplify Israel Rabbinic Fellowship, out of Steven Wise Free Synagogue in New York. I will be joining 23 other young rabbis, each of us ordained within the last decade, on a journey of learning, professional development, and advocacy. Together we will be exploring the power of Zionism and Jewish peoplehood and delve into its evolving nuances inside of our Reform Jewish community.  

I have many old friends, colleagues, and peers in this cohort, including familiar local faces! Both Rabbi Jodan Shaner from Temple Sinai and Rabbi Zachary Goodman, who was our assistant rabbi here at Holy Blossom and now serves at Wise Temple in Cincinnati, are fellows as well.  If you’d like to learn more about the fellowship, you can read more from its inaugural launch last year at this story from eJewish philanthropy.  

Many of you know how dear and important Israel is to me. Both as an epicentre in my spiritual journey and as the place I called home for several years. Those of you who have studied with me know that it has been a source of deep heartache for me that since October 7th, I have not been able to return. As part of this fellowship, in January, I will be going to Israel for a week of study, meeting with a veritable whose who of English-speaking Zionist voices, representatives of our Israeli Reform movement, and leading thinkers from across the spectrum of Israeli life. I have no doubt that we will also make the terrible journey, both south and north, to visit communities deeply affected and afflicted by the last 14 months of war and the atrocities of October 7th. I am already bringing gifts with me for representatives of those communities, thanks to our incomparable Judaica and Art Shop, operated by the Women of Holy Blossom. Please know that you will be with me as I make these visits of solidarity and comfort, witnessing the rebuilding of our people.  

I want to thank the congregation and our community for making this opportunity possible for me and for pushing me to apply. The time that this fellowship demands is not insignificant, and I am grateful for the opportunity to do this important work as one of your rabbis.