Rabbi Shaya's Thoughts

When You Are Not Settled, Neither Am I

Thursday, August 27, 2026 - 11:00 AM

Words can easily lose the depth of their meaning when they are used too often. This applies to all kinds of words. For example: unity. When used so regularly, it becomes more and more challenging to define the deeper meaning that these words are meant to convey.

Does unity mean that we are united as one in a cause and mission, or does it simply mean that we are acquaintances committed to working together for the time being?

A look at this week’s Torah portion, Ki Tavo, can help us not only define the word “unity,” but also make sure that its deeper meaning is not lost.

The first mitzvah in the portion is Bikurim—bringing the first fruits of the season as a gift to G-d. Where this mitzvah is recorded in the Torah, an important clarification is added as to when the mitzvah applies. It says that “when you come to the land” that G-d has given us, and you “inherit the land and settle the land,” this is when the law applies.

The commentators point out that this double expression, “when you come to the land” and “inherit the land and settle the land”, means that the mitzvah applies only after all the Jews have conquered and settled the land.

This clarification is important because one might think that once you enter the land and grow your produce, you become obligated to bring your gifts. Each person would be on their own schedule. Those who settled and grew their crops faster would bring their gifts earlier. Those who took more time would do so when they were ready.

The Torah, however, teaches us a profound lesson: If your fellow Jew has not settled in, then you should not feel settled either.

Yes, you may have your home and already be establishing your future. Nevertheless, you cannot sit idly by and say, “I have mine, and what is going on in your life is not my concern.”

We are united as one. We care for each other in very tangible ways. As long as there is even one Jew who does not yet have a home and has not settled in peace, no Jew can feel completely settled.

This is the true meaning of unity. We feel for each other. We care for each other.

To emphasize this idea even further, G-d Himself forgoes the gifts that He could have received had we been obligated to bring Bikurim as soon as each person settled in. Instead, G-d waits for the entire Jewish people to settle, teaching us what unity really means.

As we get closer to the High Holidays, it is worthwhile to think about what it means to truly be part of Am Yisrael. Can we really feel settled while another Jew is still searching? Can we truly be happy when another Jew is struggling?

Perhaps this is the deeper meaning of Am Yisrael, not simply that we stand together, but that we feel for one another, care for one another, and ultimately feel one another’s joys and struggles as our own.

Shabbat Shalom and Happy new year!

Small Steps, Big Blessings

Thursday, August 20, 2026 - 11:00 AM

A blooming garden starts with just one seed. A friendship is sparked with a simple hello. A home renovation can start out with the purchase of a single doormat. This is the way of the world. One seemingly small act could lead to something much bigger than planned.

The Torah wants to ingrain this idea into our lives, so that we are encouraged to take the first step. This lesson is gently taught in this week’s Torah portion, Ki Teitzei.

Here is the question: What happens if you see a cute baby chick sitting in a bird’s nest protected by its mother, and you want to take the chick home with you. The Torah says you can under one condition: you must send the mother bird away first so that the she doesn’t experience the pain of seeing you take her baby.

This mitzvah is rewarded with long life.

Many people struggle with this mitzvah. Why require the mother to be sent away? And even if you do, this is a selfish act, so why do you get a reward, let alone the reward of long life?

The commentators point out that is exactly the point. A selfish desire, when actualized in a sensitive matter, making sure not to hurt—even a bird—leads to performing more mitzvot. Interestingly, the Torah uses the expression “send” the mother away, meaning, not to get tired of doing this simple act, even if it needs to be done repeatedly.

When we take small steps, we can create something much bigger than we ever imagined. The Torah demonstrates this through the mitzvot that follow the mitzvah of sending away the mother bird. Build a home? Put a fence around the roof. Plant a vineyard? Don’t mix the species. Make a garment? Don’t mix wool and linen. One mitzvah leads to another, and one small act of goodness creates the momentum for more.

Perhaps this is the Torah’s message to us: Don’t underestimate the power of one small, positive deed. A simple act of kindness, a thoughtful word, or one mitzvah may seem insignificant in the moment, but it can set something much greater into motion. Just as a garden begins with a single seed, a life of meaning and blessing begins with one small step.

So let’s take that step today. Do one small good deed, and see where it leads.

Shabbat shalom & Shana tova!

Who Is Your King?

Thursday, August 13, 2026 - 11:00 AM

Human nature is very interesting.

People are so good at giving advice, yet so bad at taking it. We often have an answer to everyone else’s problems. We easily see how others should think before they act. Yet, when it comes to our own lives, many of us allow our emotions to get the better of us, and we act before we think.

In this week’s Torah portion, Shoftim, we learn about the commandment to appoint a king over the Jewish people. The Torah presents it this way: “…and you say, ‘I will set a king over myself, like all the nations around me,’” and the Torah continues with instructions about how this should be implemented.

However, if people are so bad at taking advice and direction, why would we want a king telling us what to do?

As much as we may not like being lectured to, we also recognize that we have blind spots. We can rationalize our decisions and convince ourselves that what we want is actually what is best for us. Sometimes, the person standing in our own way is ourselves.

Perhaps this is part of the Torah’s wisdom in the mitzvah of appointing a king. It teaches us that independence, while valuable, has its limits. There are times when we become better versions of ourselves specifically because we choose to listen to someone whose judgment we trust.

Although we do not have a Jewish king in our times, we can still apply this idea to our own lives. We should choose not a ruler, but a guide: a trusted mentor, an inspiring rabbi, or a wise friend. Someone who knows us well, whose judgment we trust, and, perhaps most importantly, someone we are willing to listen to… even when we don’t necessarily want to hear what they have to say.

We may not know who that person should be. But this week is a good time to think about it.

As we approach the High Holidays, a time when we look inward and take an honest accounting of our lives, perhaps we should ask ourselves a simple question:

Who is my king?

Just as the Jewish people recognized their need for a king and actively sought one out, perhaps we too should recognize our need for a guide and actively seek one out.

Don’t be shy. Find your guide.

Shabbat Shalom and may you be blessed with a happy year.

Beyond Association

Thursday, August 6, 2026 - 11:00 AM

When you associate with people who make poor choices, there is a good chance that you will be influenced by them. As the saying goes, "guilty by association." The reason given for this is because influence can be contagious.

Seemingly, this outcome should work the other way around as well. If we can be influenced toward the negative, we should also be able to be influenced toward the positive. In fact, Judaism teaches us the concept of, "All Jews are responsible for one another." This statement is not just a more positive spin on the same idea; it represents a much deeper message. We are all connected. Our identities are interconnected with each other, not just influenced by each other. It is because of this shared soul that we become responsible for each other.

In this week’s Torah portion of Re’eh, we learn about the Ir Hanidachat, the condemned city. One of the ten commandments is not to worship idols. This applies to the individual. What happens if a whole community turns to idol worship? The city is declared to be an Ir Hanidachat, a condemned city. As a result, all the city’s inhabitants, even the non-guilty, are punished. Although the Talmud tells us that there was never a need to implement this law, it is worth learning about so that we can learn more about ourselves.

Some obvious questions arise. What is the reason behind this law? What did the children do wrong? Why should the adults who did not sin also have to be punished? What happens if an idol worshipper regrets their mistake—would their repentance help?

When the Torah states that "All Jews are responsible for one another," it is not offering a buzzword. It is revealing our core essence. The Jewish nation is a single entity yet we may hold different opinions, speak different languages, and live vastly different lives. The saying "Two Jews, three opinions" proves our vibrant individuality, yet we remain undeniably one.

That is why the Torah views the condemned city as a single unit. When a community acts together, the consequences are not limited to isolated individuals. Their shared identity means that everyone is affected. This is not because everyone is equally guilty, but because no Jew is ever completely detached from the Jewish people. When you are one, you remain one at all times. Even teshuvah does not undo that connection. Repentance changes our relationship with G-d and transforms the individual, but it does not separate us from our people.

As we prepare for the month of Elul, leading into the high holidays, it is a good time to think about our connection to each other. What does it mean to me to be part of the Jewish community? For the good, and hopefully, only for the good.

Shabat Shalom