Rabbi Fishel's Blog

Dear Friends,

This week had many noteworthy moments, but the highlight for me was officiating an Upsherin and a wedding. As I was standing under the Chuppah with the beautiful couple, I took the opportunity to share a few thoughts with them. They say your wedding day is like your own personal Yom Kippur. Your slate is wiped clean and it is an auspicious time for self-reflection. One of the concepts I shared was this:

Anybody who knows anything about construction will tell you that the most important element in building a new home is its foundation. It’s all about the foundation. If the foundation is strong, the home can withstand whatever destructive forces — even strong Florida hurricanes — that might come along and threaten its stability and integrity. But if the foundation is weak, God forbid, you can have all of the nicest finishings and furnishings, the most exquisite rugs on the floors and tapestries on the walls, all so beautiful and impressive on the outside, but all of that surface décor will do little to keep the home intact when those forces inevitably come along.

So why am I going on about the foundation? Because in this week's Torah portion, Terumah, we read about the building of the Tabernacle in the desert. We often discuss the more obviously holy components like the Ark or Menorah, but there are many verses dedicated to the bases, the pillars, the middle rod, and the sockets. And why is that? Because those seemingly mundane elements created the Tabernacle's foundation, which stood strong as a home for God. A strong foundation is everything.

So while I don't expect us to spend our days talking about our homes' joists or footings, sometimes we need to dig a little deeper. Get past the superficial and really see what's underneath. In life we must ask ourselves: “What is my foundation?” What are my principles that are unbreakable? How do I stay grounded and connected when the storm winds begin to blow? Which mitzvah connects me to the God grid, so to speak?

That's why at three years old, when we celebrate the Upsherin (first haircut) of a child, we set the stage for a life of engaging with Judaism and Torah. We introduce them to the Hebrew alphabet and other mitzvot they can now begin to understand. That strongly rooted foundation in Jewish identity will serve them well for their life ahead.

As we grow up, our abilities and responsibilities increase, but we still must maintain that connection to our foundation. In Jewish practice, upon awakening in the morning we recite a small prayer called Modeh Ani, which expresses gratitude to God for giving us the gift of another day. It sets the tone for the way you move through the world during your waking hours. Remembering that you are connected to the Divine, that your connection is strong because it is fortified with a Jewish foundation — and because of that, you can handle anything that comes your way. But it is more than a morning ritual. It reminds us that every life needs a foundation, something steady that holds when the winds begin to blow.

The foundation of everything is serving God with joy, and we need that more than ever. So come to Chabad of Naples. Come together — let's stand together on the strong foundation that is our beautiful community. Can't wait to celebrate with everyone at the Grand Purim Party!

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Fishel & Ettie Zaklos

Dear Friends,

As a rabbi, I do a lot of lifecycle events. Bar and Bat Mitzvahs, baby namings, funerals. In fact this Sunday I have both an Upsherin (the first haircut for a 3-year-old boy) and a wedding.

Officiating a wedding is a very great honor. You are uniting a couple as they embark on their life together. But before those two souls can stand together under the Chuppah, an awful lot of planning goes into the date, the location, the invitations, the food, the photographer, the DJ, etc., etc. People getting married want their big day to be perfect, so they obsess over the details.

And then the day arrives, and there's magic in the air, and the couple has stars in their eyes. They arrive as two separate individuals, and they leave as one. Many go on a honeymoon to extend the magical feeling and bask a little longer in its glow.

But no matter how long or lavish the honeymoon, come Monday morning, someone needs to take out the trash.

Bills need to be paid, groceries need to be bought, laundry needs to get done. And suddenly, there's not as much magic in the air. (Although as long as someone took the trash out like I said, it shouldn't smell too bad.)

The point is, the wedding is beautiful, but it was never the main event. The life you forge together after is what gives the wedding purpose.

The receiving of the Torah is compared to a wedding between God and the Jewish people, a miraculous event that was detailed in last week's Torah portion. And then after all the hoopla, this week's Torah portion begins with “these are the Mishpatim,” the civil and interpersonal laws that govern everyday life. Honesty in business, responsibility for damages, care for the vulnerable, and respect for other people.

Now yes, that may seem a little boring. Especially when you compare it to the earth-rattling, sensory explosion that was the giving of the Torah at Mount Sinai. But God gave us the Torah so that we could live. Like actually live — day to day, going to work, changing light bulbs, shopping for paper towels.

Sinai taught us that heaven can touch earth. Mishpatim teaches us that earth itself can become holy. It gave us the divine inspiration we need not only to endure the banal moments of daily life, but to infuse them with holiness.

The wedding was just the beginning. But don’t worry — that couple can still look at one another with stars in their eyes. They practiced romanticizing the small things when they obsessed over those wedding details. When napkins and font choices were so much more, because they were emblematic of a deeper connection.

We have the opportunity to make every moment holy. Stop for just a second and really think about that. Every second of every day you can choose kindness, you can choose connection — with one another and with the Divine.

They say don’t sweat the small stuff, but don’t underestimate it either. A favor for someone in need, a moment of patience for your child, a smile to a stranger in line who may be lonelier than you can imagine.

So I challenge you all to stop what you're doing and think of one mitzvah that you can add into your daily life. One small, tiny mitzvah that you can really take and run with. There are 53 in this week's Torah portion, so you've got plenty of options!

As they say, one mitzvah leads to another mitzvah, and these are the tiny details that can build a big, beautiful life.

We look forward to seeing you at our upcoming Paint n’ Sip and our Grand Purim Celebration!

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Fishel & Ettie Zaklos 

Dear Friends,

As a rabbi, I have the privilege of standing with people at life’s most sacred moments, bar and bat mitzvahs, baby namings, and weddings. In fact, this Sunday, with God’s help, I will celebrate both an upsherin, the first haircut of a three-year-old boy, and a wedding. Moments of joy. Moments of promise. Moments when the world feels whole.

And then there are the other moments. Moments filled with heartbreak, funerals, and questions that have no easy answers. Moments when the phone rings and the news is unbearable. When a family sits across from you searching for words that do not exist. Moments when the heart feels shattered.

In those moments, you almost find yourself asking, are there even words? What are we supposed to do? How are we meant to respond?

This week’s Torah portion, Mishpatim, offers a stunning insight:
“If oppress you will oppress him, for if cry he will cry out to Me, hear will I hear his cry.”

The Kotzker Rebbe asked: Why the repetition of oppress and cry? He explained that the deepest pain of the widow and orphan is not only their suffering. It is the agony of believing that no one hears them. The Torah commands us: If you hear a cry, you must cry out as well. A solitary cry must never remain alone.

We all know that feeling. When you are going through something difficult, the pain is not only the challenge itself. The worst part is feeling that no one understands you. That you are alone inside it. The Torah is telling us that no human being is meant to suffer in isolation. If there is a cry, we answer it. If there is pain, we cry together. We stand together. We affirm that no voice disappears into silence.

Elie Wiesel once recounted a harrowing moment from a Nazi death march.

One freezing night, as prisoners trudged through the snow, a young boy collapsed. The SS guards barked threats, but the child could no longer move.

Though barely able to stand, Elie bent down and lifted the boy onto his back. The child, barely conscious, whispered, “Why are you helping me? You will die too.”

Elie answered simply: “Because if I stop caring, then I am already dead.”

Then something miraculous happened. Another prisoner stepped forward to help carry the boy. Then another. Soon, a chain of starving, broken men bore the child together.

By morning, the boy was still alive. And those who had carried him, though weak and suffering, had also survived.

We do not choose our suffering. But we choose our response. We choose to cry out. We choose to carry each other forward.

And as we approach the month of Adar, a month defined by increasing in joy, that same principle carries over into our celebrations. Just as no cry should ever be alone, no simcha should be either. To truly increase in joy means to step into another person’s happiness and make it our own. To rejoice fully when someone else is blessed. That too is to carry each other.

And you see that so beautifully in the Chabad of Naples family. The way people show up for each other in times of need. The way we celebrate each other’s simchas with genuine warmth and open hearts.

So let us celebrate together. Join us for our upcoming Purim Paint and Sip, a special Women’s Circle evening as we welcome a talented artist for what promises to be an uplifting and meaningful program. And of course, do not miss our Grand Purim Party. In sorrow we stand together. In joy we celebrate together.

Shabbat Shalom!

 Rabbi Fishel & Ettie Zaklos