Rabbi Shaya's Thoughts

Six Seven

Friday, February 27, 2026 - 9:10 AM

“Six seven” has become such a viral trend, even though it carries no real meaning. Yet when Purim comes and we celebrate the holiday by turning things upside down, it is worth taking a closer look.

When people say “six seven,” they often accompany it with hand gestures, using both the right and the left hands.

Through the prism of spirituality, we can see something deeper. The right hand represents the spiritual world, while the left represents the physical, mundane world. Although these appear to be two separate realms, right and left, they are intended to work together.

We see this most clearly in the Purim story. Mordechai, one of the leading spiritual figures of his time, dons sackcloth as a sign of mourning and gathers the Jewish people to pray that Haman and Achashverosh decree that all Jews should be killed in one day should be annulled. A three-day fast is established so that they can reconnect with their spiritual core.

Esther, the Jewish girl that became Achashverosh’s queen, partners with Mordechai to stop this catastrophe in its tracks, takes a very different approach. She prepares to enter the king’s chamber. She approaches Achashverosh with a strategy, dressed in royal garb. She arranges a feast for the king and invites his advisor, Haman. Then she prepares a second feast, where she successfully exposes, then destroys, the plot against the Jewish people.

One way to understand the story is this: Mordechai and Esther were working in harmony but it was Mordechai who represented the spiritual path, while Esther represented the practical, down-to-earth approach.

We know that in life, especially regarding health-related issues, we must engage both paths. At the same time when we pray for G-d’s intervention, we also take proper medical steps to improve the situation. We understand that there must be a partnership between the spiritual and physical worlds.

Still, it is worth asking: If we must prepare ourselves to receive G-d’s blessings, which approach carries greater weight? Prayer or action? Spiritual connection or practical effort?

The story of Purim is recorded in a scroll called Megillat Esther, the Scroll of Esther. Why Esther and not Mordechai?

The answer teaches us something profound. While prayer and mitzvot (the spiritual) are essential, they are not sufficient on their own. It was Esther’s courage and practical initiative (the physical) that brought the miracle to completion. She entered the palace. She navigated politics. She took calculated steps within the physical world to draw down G-d’s blessing.

Also, it was Esther who requested that Purim be established as a holiday and that the story be recorded as part of the Torah. The observance of Purim itself reflects this integration. We do not only read the story; we celebrate with a festive meal. We give gifts of food to our friends. We give money to the poor. The mitzvot are tangible and practical.

Judaism is not meant to divide life into two separate realms, physical and spiritual. It calls upon us to merge them into one unified service.

Shabbat Shalom and Happy Purim.

Getting out of the rat race

Thursday, February 19, 2026 - 2:00 PM

Frequently we find ourselves stuck in the rat race of life. Days and weeks can go by and our life starts to feel like one long, monotonous cycle. How can we break it up? How can we find some serenity and meaning?

One solution can be to take a few minutes each day and think about the “why” of our existence--What am I looking to accomplish in life? Or, we can create a long-term solution by dedicating a space in our home (for example, a comfortable chair) where we go daily for peace and quiet. We can also bring meaning into our life by designating a percentage of our income to charity, marking it for a higher purpose than just our own personal needs.

However, we can still challenge ourselves by asking, is this enough?

Let’s look closely at this week’s Torah portion, Terumah. In the first few verses, G-d tells us to “take for Me” a donation to help build the Sanctuary. A few verses later, G-d says, “make for Me” a Sanctuary.

Why is G-d using the term “Me?” It sounds childish, and if we think about it, we cannot even fulfill these commands. Here’s why it’s not practical: Let’s say that I give $100 toward G-d’s building fund that I “took for You;” the money now becomes G-d’s. I can now only use G-d’s money to fulfill the second command, to build the edifice. How can I “build it for You” when it actually already belongs to G-d?

Either I use my money and build Your temple, or I use Your money to build Your Temple, but then the Temple is not mine.

One way to explain this is that there is more to give than just handing over money. There is a deeper type of giving. First, we set aside money for the donation, then we elevate that donation. In order to make the donation more meaningful, more is required from us than just writing a check.

Using the dedicated space in our home as we suggested is an example. Once the space is designated, the area essentially becomes a sanctuary in our home. Does that mean that this space becomes “holy?”

The verses teach us that the designation is not enough; we have the ability to transform the space into a holy place, not only studying there, but doing so with intention. Just donating our money is not enough; we should also get involved in the causes to which we are donating. Our hearts and souls have to get involved, not only our checkbooks.

This is what G-d is telling us. Give to ME and build for ME are really two steps in transforming our environment around us: 1- we separate. 2 – we elevate.

Shabbat Shalom

Our collective destiny

Thursday, February 12, 2026 - 10:00 AM

The law of cause and effect is well known. Yet there are times when we wonder why things happen the way they do.

The Torah addresses this idea many times when it teaches that if we follow G-d’s commandments, we will be blessed. If we do not, then we should not expect that blessing to come our way.

In this week’s Torah portion, Mishpatim, the Torah makes a bold statement: If we follow G-d’s laws in the Land of Israel, then no woman will experience a stillborn child or even be barren. This is not merely a blessing but a promise.

There is a difference between a blessing and a promise. A promise cannot be broken, while a blessing may ultimately not materialize.

One way to understand this particular promise is by paying close attention to the nuanced wording of the verse. It is only if we keep the laws in the Land of Israel that this promise takes effect. There are two important details that should not be glossed over:

1. This promise applies when all the Jews follow G-d’s laws.

2. It applies specifically in the Land of Israel.

In general, when the Torah tells us that there will be a reward for our behavior, it speaks to us as individuals. Good cause, good effect. However, when it comes to the Land of Israel, the conversation shifts, and new terms apply. We are no longer viewed as individuals but as one nation. When we are united as one, great miracles occur. No woman will be barren, and no infant will die while its mother is alive.

Wow—the power of the sanctity of the Land. Israel is not just a safe place for Jews to live; it is a unifier. It brings all of us together as one people. And when we all follow G-d’s laws, we merit collective results that uplift us all.

Shabbat Shalom

I Don't Know

Thursday, February 5, 2026 - 10:00 AM

To say “I don’t know” takes humility, especially if you are expected to know. However, these words can be understood in two very different ways. Sometimes, “I don’t know” simply means a lack of information. You are unaware. But there is a deeper kind of “I don’t know,” one that comes only after engagement, study, and struggling to grasp an idea over and over again, even to the point of frustration, you arrive at the realization that you still don’t know.

That realization is deeply humbling. It is not an external humility, but a personal and intimate surrender. That is true humility.

Being humble is not easy.

Yet, this is what G-d demands of us. In this week’s Torah portion, Yitro, G-d gives us the Ten Commandments. He begins with, “I am your G-d,” followed immediately by, “You shall have no other gods before Me.” Together, these commandments teach us to place our trust in G-d and relinquish control, recognizing that idolatry, i.e., false sources of security and power, ultimately lead nowhere.

What is striking is that after the Torah concludes the account of what took place at Mount Sinai, we are once again warned not to make or serve idols.

Why the repetition?

One explanation is that G-d does not only want obedience, but understanding. Not merely that we avoid idolatry because it is forbidden, but because we grasp why it is empty.

In a way, this is the difference between doing a mitzvah and studying Torah. A mitzvah can be performed by habit; we grow up trained to act. Torah study, however, demands effort, time, and thought, sometimes deep thought, as we struggle to understand what the Torah is truly teaching us.

Idolatry follows the same pattern.

We can be good Jews who do not serve idols, standing humbly before G-d because that is what is commanded. But when we understand why idols are meaningless, and why our trust belongs with G-d alone, our humility becomes deeper and more internal. It is no longer imposed from without, but cultivated from within.

Mitzvot bring us closer to G-d. Torah study brings us closer to ourselves as well.

Shabbat Shalom