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Rabbi Fishel's Blog

Before You Build Anything, Read This! 


Dear Friends,

In this week’s Parshas Mattos, we’re given one of the Torah’s quietest but clearest reminders of what matters most.

As the Jewish people stand on the brink of entering the Promised Land, the two tribes of Reuven and Gad, approach Moses with a practical request. They have large flocks, and the land on the eastern side of the Jordan looks perfect for grazing. They ask to stay behind and settle there.

They say to Moses:

‎"גִּדְרֹת צֹאן נִבְנֶה לְמִקְנֵנוּ פֹּה וְעָרִים לְטַפֵּנוּ"

“We will build pens for our flocks here, and cities for our children.”

They mention their cattle first. And Moses lovingly, wisely, redirects them:

‎"בְּנוּ לָכֶם עָרִים לְטַפְּכֶם וּגְדֵרֹת לְצֹנַאֲכֶם"
“Build cities for your children, and pens for your flocks.”

It’s subtle and it’s everything.

Moses isn’t just correcting their syntax. He’s correcting their priorities. Children before cattle. Souls before stuff. The people we love before the things we own. How easy it is to flip the order.

We work hard, and rightly so, to provide for our families. To build beautiful homes, to plan ahead, to make wise choices. In all that building, Moses reminds us: never forget what you’re building for.

Not the walls. The warmth. Not the spreadsheets. The spirit. Not the livestock. The love.

This summer, as life slows down, or speeds up depending on your family, let’s hold this reminder close. It’s who you share the moments with not about where you vacation. It’s about how present you not what you have.

And on Shabbat, we’re reminded once again: You don’t need to do. You just need to be. To be together. To be calm. To be home. So take a breath. Look around your table. Look into someone’s eyes. Be there.

Because the greatest things we build in this life aren’t made of stone or wood or currency. They’re made of love, time, presence, and priorities.

I’ve shared this before and I must share it again. I still remember when we inaugurated our current campus back in January 2012. After the excitement of the celebration, my father turned to me and said something I’ll never forget:

“Building, shmuilding.”

And I understood exactly what he meant. It’s not the building that matters. It’s the life that fills it. That’s what turns a space into a place, and a moment into a memory. It’s not about the structure. It’s about the souls within it. The laughter. The light. The life that fills its rooms. That’s what makes a building, a place, a moment holy.

As we near the final phase of our Big Build expansion, with the building rising and the rooftop terrace taking shape, we carry that same message forward with new spaces to bring even more community, families and children together.

And that’s exactly what people feel when they walk through the doors of the Alex & Carol Glassman Chabad of Naples or the Jay and Patty Baker preschool of the Arts.

Not an ostentatious and lifeless hall or a scattering of joyless rooms. Rather, a sense of belonging. A spirit of love. A place that’s joyful, personal, and full of heart. 

Like Moses, my father reminded me: focus on the people. Focus on the children. That’s what makes a community. That’s what makes a legacy.

Wishing you a Shabbos of connection, peace, remembering and internalizing what really comes first.

With love and blessings,

Rabbi Fishel & Ettie Zaklos

 

Why I Bowed My Head That Day

Dear Friends,

This week’s Torah portion contains one of the most beautiful moments of selflessness in the Torah.

Moshe Rabbeinu, the leader of the Jewish people, the man who took us out of Egypt, who stood at Sinai, who brought us this far, knows that he will not be the one to enter the Land of Israel.

And yet, he doesn’t hold back. He doesn’t withdraw. Instead, he leans in.

"וַיִּסְמֹךְ אֶת יָדָיו עָלָיו"

“He placed his hands upon him…”

Moses places both hands on Joshua, fully empowering the next leader with strength, blessing, and love. That’s the origin of semicha, the transfer of leadership, of mission, of trust.

People sometimes ask me, “Rabbi, do you have a rabbinical degree?”

I usually smile and say, “I do. I got it at the Rabbinical College of America in Morristown, New Jersey.” The campus is in a lovely location, nestled in the trees. The ceremony was nice. What stayed with me most wasn’t the certificate. It was the meaning behind it.

It’s called semicha. A word that means “leaning.” Because in the original tradition, the teacher didn’t just give over a certificate. He gave of himself. He leaned into his student. He transferred not only knowledge, but spirit. Not only law, but love.

And just as powerful as the giving, is the receiving. The person getting semicha would bow their head. It was a gesture of humility. A way of saying: I know this isn’t about me. It’s about something bigger. About being part of a chain of guidance and values passed down through the generations.

And that’s what Moses teaches us. It’s not about who gets the credit. It’s about the mission. I don’t carry a picture from graduation in my wallet. I carry the lessons and values I learned in my heart and in my daily life.

Real leadership means lifting others up, even when it’s not your name in lights. Even when your own dreams are still a work in progress. Moses teaches us to keep giving. To keep showing up. To say: If it helps the mission succeed, then that’s what matters.

And in fact, the people were not only moved by Moshe’s words. They were moved by his life.

"וכל הָעָם רֹאִים אֶת הַקּוֹלֹת"

“They saw the voices.”

They saw the way Moses lived. And that’s what inspired them.

There’s a saying: “Every rabbi has one speech and it’s the way he lives his life.”

Our job isn’t just to teach values. It’s to live them. To lead with humility, with heart, and with hands that are ready to help.

And here’s the beautiful part. You don’t need semicha to lean in. You don’t need a title to lift someone up. You don't need a certificate to give strength to someone else. You just need heart.

So, this week, take a moment and ask yourself:

Who can you lean your hands on? Who needs a hand on the shoulder, a word of encouragement, a gentle nudge of strength? 

Sometimes, that small act of support can change a person’s life.

Wishing you a Shabbos of giving, of growing, and of lifting others up.

With love and blessings,
Rabbi Fishel & Ettie Zaklos

P.S. This photo from 2007, captured Naples - Newsletter image.jpgby the Naples News, shows me blessing my son before Yom Kippur. It brings to mind the message above, the power of blessing another, blessing a child, a moment of presence and connection. We can all be that for someone else. 

 

 

A Bar Mitzvah, an Engagement, and a People Who Rise

Dear Friends,

This week’s Torah portion, Parshas Balak, contains one of the most surprising moments in the entire Torah.

Bilam, hired to curse the Jewish people, opens his mouth… and instead, out come words of blessing:

"מה טבו אהליך יעקב משכנתיך ישראל..."

"How good are your tents, O Jacob… your dwelling places, O Israel."

He wanted to break us. Then he saw who we really are. He saw our homes, our values, the quiet strength we pass down. And he couldn’t help but bless us.

He saw our tents. He saw our families. He saw our future.

Many people ask about the Hebrew words engraved on the Aron Kodesh in our shul. It is those very words which Bilam uttered when he was overwhelmed by the holiness and dignity of the Jewish camp. They are the first thing we see as we face the Ark. They remind us of who we are and what we stand for.

This Shabbos, we’ll see that blessing in living form as we celebrate the Bar Mitzvah of Peter (Pesach) Shmukler.

Peter and his family moved to Naples from Carmel, Indiana three years ago. They’ve brought their heart, their heritage, and their Hoosier pride (they’re big Indiana Pacers fans) into our Chabad Naples family. Peter plays soccer, learns with curiosity, and carries himself with kindness.

This Shabbat, he’ll wear a tallit gifted from family in Israel. His father Eddie will wear the tallit of Peter’s great-grandfather, also named Pesach. Four generations will be linked in one embrace of Torah.

What Bilam saw in our people is exactly what we see in Peter.

A good heart. A strong soul. A tent that brings light to others.

That same resilience, that same light, shines this week in another beautiful story.

Sapir Cohen and Sasha Troufanov, former hostages we were privileged to host here at Chabad of Naples, just got engaged.

Sapir was held captive for more than 50 days. Sasha was held for 498.

They have been through unimaginable darkness, through pain that words can barely convey. And yet, they have emerged into light. Not just surviving, but choosing to build, to bless, to love.

When they spoke here at Chabad Naples last month, we joked with them: "No pressure, but when you get engaged, you should do it here." We didn’t know then how close that moment was.

They were taken on October 7. They’ve emerged from darkness. And now they’re engaged and building a future. That is the Jewish story.

From a Bar Mitzvah to an engagement. From Indiana to Israel. From pain to joy. This week reminds us that we are a people who rise.

We rise like lions.

We turn curses into blessings.

We make our tents, our families, our communities, a place of light.

Mazel Tov to the Shmukler family. Mazel Tov to Sapir and Sasha. Mazel Tov to all of us. עם ישראל חי.

Wishing you a Shabbos filled with joy, strength, and proud Jewish light.

With love and blessings,

Rabbi Fishel & Ettie Zaklos

When We Don’t Understand, and Still Choose Light

Dear Friends,

I’m writing this while in transit, returning from New Jersey, where I traveled this morning to officiate at the funeral of our dear friend and family member, Mark Katsnelson (Mordechai ben Feivel), a”h. It was a quick, emotional trip—just a few hours there and back—and with G-d’s help, I hope to be back in time for Shabbat.

Mark’s passing was sudden and deeply painful. It leaves us with a sense of loss that’s hard to put into words, and hearts full of love still seeking meaning.

This week’s Torah portion, Parshat Chukas, begins with a mitzvah that seems irrational, a law that defies logic: the commandment of the Parah Adumah, the Red Heifer.

"זֹאת חֻקַּת הַתּוֹרָה..."

"This is the decree of the Torah..."

A chok is something we do because G-d asks, not because we understand. Not because it’s rational. It’s a reminder that even when life doesn’t make sense, we still act. We still build. We still love.

The Torah, gives us language for this mystery:

"הַנִּסְתָּרוֹת לַה' אֱלֹקֵינוּ, וְהַנִּגְלֹת לָנוּ..."

"The hidden belongs to Hashem, and the revealed belongs to us..."

There is so much we may never understand. But we are not powerless. In fact, the unknown can become our invitation, to grow, to reach out, to bring more light into the world.

Mark, Mordechai ben Feivel, lived with that kind of quiet strength. He had endured great pain in his life, yet he continued to show up, with dignity, warmth, and heart. At Kiddush, he would walk around with a l’chaim and lift others up. He spoke kindly, shared good words, and gave others a sense of presence and belonging. Truly, a soul of conviction and quiet power.

He carried within him not just pain, but purpose, having worked with his wife Cathy, to help establish Gregory’s Law, an effort that turned personal tragedy into greater protection and awareness for others.

In remembering Mark, we’re reminded of what it means to be present for others, to stand up for what’s right, even in quiet ways. That message couldn’t be more urgent today.

We live in a time filled with irrational hatred, hatred of “the other,” hatred that defies reason, and a disturbing rise in antisemitism. It reminds us that being visibly and proudly Jewish is an act of strength and courage. And in the face of such darkness, the answer is not retreat. The answer is irrational good.

Pick up the phone. Reach out. Say something kind.

Even if it’s been a while. Even if there were differences.

Show up. Care. Do it not because it makes sense.

Do it because it’s right.

Do it because the world needs light.

Someone out there needs it. Maybe more than you know.

We’ll be gathering this Tuesday evening, July 8, at 7:00 PM here at Chabad of Naples for a special evening of remembrance in Mark’s honor, a time to reflect, and to continue the light he brought into the world.

May we each find ways to turn mystery into meaning and carry his memory forward with love and action.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Fishel & Ettie Zaklos

 

 

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