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Rabbi Shaya's Thoughts

Imposter Syndrome

 A quick AI summary of imposter syndrome describes it as follows: “A psychological experience involving internalized self-doubt and the fear of being exposed as a ‘fraud,’ despite evidence of competence or high achievement….”

Many of us ask ourselves, after accomplishing something great, whether it really happened to us. Take golf, for example: If someone hits a hole-in-one, chances are that it was not purely their skill that accomplished this, but also luck. As a result, they can feel like an imposter. True, they play golf, but they know that, in truth, they are not that good.

In Judaism, we can experience this from a spiritual view. We fulfill a mitzvah, or even a Jewish custom, but even as we do it, we might not feel connected. The holiness that we are hoping to feel is simply not there. Therefore, we ask ourselves: If that is the case, then why are we doing it?

In this week’s Torah portion, Beshalach, we learn about the manna that fell from heaven each day, except on Shabbat. For Jews to have food to eat on Shabbat, a double portion fell on Friday. Today, we remember this event by having two loaves of challah on the table at each Shabbat meal, on Friday evening and Shabbat day. Since Shabbat is a holy day and we want to embrace this sanctity, there is a third meal as well.

There is a Jewish custom that on Saturday night, we have another meal to say “goodbye” to this holy day. The traditional name for this meal is Melaveh Malka, translated to “escorting the Queen,” bidding farewell to the departing Shabbat Queen. Although it is not recorded anywhere in the Torah that the Jews ate this meal while in the desert, chances are that they did have dinner on Saturday night.

What did they eat? The leftovers of the day, the manna that came from heaven for Shabbat. However, when Shabbat was over and the sanctity of the day was gone, how could they eat sanctified food?

Today, we too, ask the same question. Why are we eating a meal after Shabbat is over if the holiness of the day is gone?

We can feel like we are trying to bring holiness into a time that is not holy—this meal can feel like a sham. Fake.

Here is another perspective. True, the sanctity of Shabbat is over. However, the blessings that Shabbat bring into our workweek have just begun.

It is easy for us to want to bask in holiness and purity, asking ourselves: Do we really deserve the praise that we are getting? Did we really earn it? This is when we can feel like an imposter. However, if we reframe our perspective from being “worthy” to being blessed, then even if we feel that we don’t deserve the praise, and we can feel like a fraud because it was unearned, we should instead look at the blessings that infuse our lives.

A blessing is not earned; it is given. When we receive it, we should embrace it. And be thankful.

May this week be a week of many blessings.

Shabbat Shalom

Principles need structure

 Upon the retirement of Warren Buffett, his greatness was widely exalted. Many explained that while it is certainly true that he was exceptionally skilled at picking the right investments, there are other investors who are experts at this as well. His greatest strength was that he remained steadfast in his principles.

I do not know what methods Buffett used to stay so committed to those principles, but the fact that this is what he is most lauded for is reason to believe that he had proper support in place so that he would not waver.

In truth, this is how we build a home. We begin with the foundation, because without a strong foundation the structure above will collapse. However, to hold the house together, we also need strong beams, strategically placed, so that the foundation can do its job.

Our principles are our foundation, and the support system that helps us remain true to those principles is our beams.

This idea is found in this week’s Torah portion, Bo, where the Exodus from Egypt is experienced and, as a result, the Jews become a free people. To this day, we celebrate the holiday of freedom with the Seder. We eat matzah and drink wine (or grape juice), and we recline as a sign of freedom, luxury, and expansiveness.

The act of leaning and relaxing during the Seder is an expression of our freedom and our current state of being. It means that, in principle, we are free in every aspect of our lives. We were slaves, now we are free, and we will always remain free. However, to anchor this idea in our minds and hearts, until it is seared into our souls, it is vital that we express this feeling at very specific times: when we eat matzah and when we drink the four cups of wine.

If we have principles without any way of expressing them, we can easily be swayed to abandon them, even if only for a moment. And then it can happen again and again. If, however, we have a plan in place to live by our principles, with clearly defined practices that we follow, then no temptation will pull us away from them.

At the Seder, we express the principle of freedom through eating matzah and drinking the four cups of wine.

As Jews, our principles are the Torah, and the support system that helps us remain true to those principles is the mitzvot.

Have a happy Mitzvah Day and an experiential Shabbat.

A Line on the Wall

Often, when our faith is challenged, our faith has the potential to become the strongest. The greater the test, the greater the opportunity for connection.

For example, there are times when you genuinely want to be nice, to do the right thing, but all you get in return is disappointment. It can feel like you are mixing fire and water. You don’t end up with warmth, nor with refreshing cold. Instead, there is confusion, a feeling like you are neither here nor there.

Looking at this week’s Torah portion, Va’eira, we learn about the plagues brought upon the Egyptians. When it comes to the seventh plague, hail, Moses does something very unusual. He draws a line on the wall, stating that tomorrow at this exact time another plague will befall the Egyptians. In addition, Moses tells the Egyptians that they can show their trust in G-d by bringing their cattle from the fields into their barns. Any animals that are indoors will be spared from the plague.

Why did Moses tell Pharaoh the exact time of the coming plague? And even if announcing the time made sense, why draw a line on the wall? Why not mark it on a water clock or some other instrument? And why did he give the Egyptians a heads-up, allowing them to spare their cattle from this plague at all?

The line on the wall that Moses drew could not be altered. It represented an absolute moment in time. Moses was not using a ploy to scare them. He wanted it to be absolutely clear that it was G-d bringing these plagues, and not a magic trick or coincidence. The line on the wall emphasized G-d’s hand.

At the same time, G-d wanted to give the Egyptians a chance to show their faith in Him.

Fire and water are both natural creations. Bringing them together is supernatural. For an Egyptian to place faith in G-d was asking a lot. Therefore, Moses first marks a line on the wall, to prove that everything comes from G-d. Only then does he turn to them and say, now it is your turn to tap into something beyond yourselves and show faith.

We, too, face challenges all the time. Our faith is challenged. Our existence is challenged. Our very essence can feel challenged. But if we bother to see the writing on the wall, those challenges can turn into opportunities. It becomes clearer what we are meant to do.

Sometimes the response is to bring things indoors. Sometimes it is to bring things outdoors. The main thing is to take ownership of our faith and Judaism.

Shabbat Shalom 

From Mud to Meaning: How Jews Respond to Hate

 Antisemitism is on the top of every Jew’s mind. We complain about it. We call out those who do nothing to stop it. We have an issue with everyone who is silent, except with ourselves. We may feel good about ourselves because we are talking about it. However, in a moment of self-reflection, we know that it is not enough to just talk. Many people want to do more, but they simply don’t know what is required of them, perhaps because we don’t truly understand what antisemitism really is, and why it rattles us the way that it does.

To move forward, It is helpful to look at the history of the Jewish people, to learn how our enemies acted and how we responded.

The first recorded hateful acts against our people is found in this week’s Torah portion, Shemot. The story is told of how a new king rose to power, and that he did not know who Joseph was. Whether he really didn’t know all the good that Joseph did, or he deliberately turned his back on the Jews, is an ongoing conversation. What we do know is that over time, life became worse for the Jews during his reign. Reading into the verses of the Torah, we learn that it took a period of about thirty years for things to end as they did.

At the beginning of his reign, Pharaoh requested of the Jews to volunteer to build the cities of Pitom and Ramses. Then it became their responsibility, and then later they were required to make the bricks from scratch. Pharaoh finally forced the Jews to gather the materials needed for making these bricks. As the burden become unbearable for the Jews, G-d finally said that it was time to step in and redeem the Jewish people.  

The rest is history.

Let’s delve deeper into the burden that the Jews carried and the hidden inspiration that they found within their suffering.

The term “bricks” is not random. Bricks are fabricated by people from the beginning to the end. Since the king didn’t care about the cost of labor, why did he have the Jews create bricks when he could have forced them to cut rocks for building the cities—especially since stone is better quality than bricks.

Spiritually speaking, there is a deeper message here. 

Bricks are made from the earth, a mixture of mud and straw. These are cheap materials. There is nothing fancy to be found in the mixture. They are made from the lowest materials that can be found.

The Jews too, felt that way. They felt stripped of their dignity and their pride. All the years that they invested in Egypt, putting in their effort to make Egypt a successful country, was taken away from them. They become slaves. But what they did not lose was their identity. They knew who they were. The forced labor encouraged them to look deep within themselves to find purpose and meaning. Mud and straw may look meaningless, but they were able to transform those materials into bricks.

The same thinking process applied to their identity. They took pride in being Jews. When given the mitzvah of preparing the Pascal lamb and matzah—forbidden by the Egyptians at that time—they jumped in and did it, knowing full well that they were risking their lives. 

This is a lesson for us to take today. Let’s embrace a mitzvah. Don’t be shy about it and let others know. When we strengthen our Jewish identity collectively, the world will back off, just as the Egyptians did.

Shabbat Shalom

The Wolf Within The Jew

 Many articles have been written about the growth of anti-Semitism and anti-Israel sentiment in our time. This is not happening in a vacuum, they argue; these sentiments stem from the Muslims’ desire to influence the West and have a lasting impact. They argue further that this is all done with intention. There is a long-term plan in place and they have patience.

We can respond by ignoring the facts on the ground and just go on with our lives. Or, we can respond with anger and disappointment against the government that we expect to protect us. However, the best way is for us to do something about it. Perhaps the best way to proceed is by taking a page out of their playbook. As our sages teach us, “Who is wise? One who learns from every person.”

Better yet, in this week’s Torah portion, Vayechi, we are given the tools to understand and respond. We read about Jacob blessing all his children. At times, Jacob attached a symbolic animal that expressed his blessing more succinctly. When it came to his son Benjamin, Jacob said that he should be like a “wolf that grabs.”

The word “grab” in this case can apply to the person grabbing, and to the item that is being grabbed. The commentators point out that the reason why Jacob is using this term is to teach us how to take advantage of an opportunity and seize the moment.

There are times when we choose to approach an issue with a level head. We take it slowly and meticulously, until we achieve our goal. In Chasidic parlance, that is the way a righteous person behaves.

Then there are times when we can’t take the time to calculate our next move. We just must do it. We put aside all of our concerns and timetables and we jump in headfirst. This behavior is expressed as the way of a Ba’al Teshuva, the way a returnee behaves. A person who is looking to change, to return, to repent, is not looking at process alone, they are looking for results.

This person is not only taking what they can get; they grab onto anything and everything that will help them achieve their goal. Just like a wolf.

The lesson for us is clear. We cannot sit around, waiting for others to do our bidding. We must learn from the Torah. We should walk around as proud Jews. We should not apologize for who we are, and we should look for opportunities to express ourselves in ways that will make us proud of the Jew that we are.

As we welcome 2026, let’s resolve to be proud Jews, not only at home and in the synagogue, but on the street as well.

Shabbat Shalom.

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