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Rabbi Fishel's Blog

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

 

 

War and Peace: Lessons My Rebbe Taught Me & My Sister’s Impossible Strength

Dear Friends,

The Jewish people, and peace-loving people the world over, are counting their blessings and gathering their thoughts after the newly dubbed 12-Day War with Iran. 12 days of intense tension within Israel, at a time when the country is already embroiled in a long conflict with Hamas. 12 days spent in and out of bomb shelters, and 12 nights with very little sleep for the Jewish nation and its allies.

And yet how many more days have we been at war before? Literally and figuratively; physically and spiritually. How many other nations have risen up against us? How many Israeli parents have feared for the safety of their children? How far has pernicious confusion spread its tentacles worldwide? Every generation has put in its time on the battlefield; fighting for our right to exist, and live a proud Jewish life. 

 

So we express our immense gratitude to G-d, to the IDF and the IAF, and to the United States for stepping up to do the right thing and make the world a safer place. Perhaps you can say a sincere Shechiyanu blessing, and pray for continued quiet and widespread peace in the region following the cease-fire.

SHEHECHEYANU VKIMYANU VHIGIYANU LIZMAN HAZEH!

And we also reflect. Taking stock of what we're feeling, what we've learned, and how to move forward. Luckily we have a deep well of Jewish tradition and thought from which we can draw some much-needed and time-tested inspiration.

This coming Sunday is Gimmel Tammuz, the third day of the Hebrew month of Tammuz, which is the yahrtzeit (anniversary of passing) of Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, the most recent leader of the Chabad movement. It marks 31 years since the Rebbe, as he was known, left this world, but his teachings remain very much alive in the hearts and minds of people across the globe. 

It is because of his momentous leadership that my wife, Ettie, and I came to Naples to serve the community here. When faced with struggle, whether in my personal life or for the Jewish people as a whole, I always return to the many lessons the Rebbe taught me. I've shared many thoughts in honor of Rebbe's anniversary of passing before. This time around, there are three that stand out to me.

The first is to be a leader in your own right; don't stand idly by. There is a famous anecdote about a man who joined the paratroopers. He went up in the plane and when his commander gave the countdown he didn't jump the first time. His commander counted down again 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...nothing. It was the same story with his third and fourth attempts. The man was paralyzed with fear. His commander said "I don't understand, if you're afraid, why are you here?" The man replied, "I just wanted to be around people who are not afraid." 

The Rebbe responded to this in no uncertain terms––you must jump. You must roll up your sleeves and get involved. Use your unique talents and passions to make the world a better place. It was said of the Rebbe that he didn't create followers, he created leaders. You and I are each one of those leaders, and we must use our powers for the greater good.

The second is to maintain moral clarity. There are so many in today's world who would have you believe that up is down and down is up. There are entire organizations dedicated to convincing the world that light is darkness and darkness is light. But do not be fooled, and do not give up the fight for what is right. 

That which is just must be defended. The Rebbe continually verbalized gratitude to the United States, calling it a "Kingdom of Kindness." A place where Jews could live safely as Jews. In a world so divided and fueled by hate, America took a stand and used its force to take out a threat not only to Israel, but to peace-loving people the world over. That which is right is not always popular, but keep in mind that evil does not rest on any strength of its own; it only leeches from the strength we give it. Casting light into the darkness removes its power, and it only requires a little light to dispel a lot of darkness. 

The last is to remember that you matter. Everyone is irreplaceable. This is something I find myself reminding people of frequently. Depression and feelings of hopelessness are rampant. People feel confused, sad, and unsure of what value they can bring to the world. But the Rebbe was insistent that no two people have the same mission on this earth--no one else can contribute what you are meant to contribute. We all have a role in making this world a proper vessel for goodness, kindness, and holiness, and you must stand up and be counted! 

If the Divine Creator of everything we see has seen fit to include you, you can rest assured that you are very important indeed. The world needs your energy to heal. Don't let the chaos around you rob you of that very important knowledge. Without YOUR light--not just anyone's, but YOURS--the darkness gets a little bit darker. 

I find these lessons extra powerful knowing that the Rebbe was no stranger to heartbreak. He lost many family members in the Holocaust, and he and his wife never had children, to name a couple. Yet despite his hardships, his ability to focus on the positive was unwavering. 

 

This past Tuesday, I was blessed to be able to join my sister, Hindy, for the yahrtzeit of her two-year-old son. They dedicated a new Torah scroll in his memory, and gathered the entire community together to celebrate. I truly don't have the words to express how powerful it was to behold my own sibling transforming an impossible personal experience into a communal opportunity to be hopeful against all odds. The pain of losing a child is inexplicable; immeasurable. But instead of letting the darkness swallow them, they fought back with light. And that is what we all must do.

Sometimes life is painful. It is scary. It is baffling, frustrating, infuriating. But we can acknowledge the negative while still shifting our focus to the positive. We give strength to the light we all have the power to generate, not to the darkness around us.

12 days, 12 years, or 12 lifetimes--the battle remains the same. We stand up for what is right and we do it together. 

****

Thank you Rebbe for infusing such a powerful purpose in our lives and the lives of countless others. We are so grateful to be able to share your vision and philosophies here at Chabad of Naples where daily we endeavor to feel and share this sense of love and fellowship under an umbrella of our Jewish faith and culture.

On Sunday, I will be joining people from across the globe who will gather to pay respects at the Rebbe's ohel resting place. It would be my honor to include you and your loved ones in my prayers on this day.
Please email me your name at [email protected]. If there's a specific need you would like me to pray for. please mention it as well. 

This Shabbos, wherever you are in the world, let's take a few moments with family or friends to learn some of the Rebbe's teachings, discuss the Rebbe's life and vision, and rededicate ourselves to the the values and causes that are close to our souls. 

Shabbat Shalom!

Rabbi Fishel & Ettie Fishel Zaklos

 

 

The Secret to Moving Forward Today

Dear Friends, 

We end this week and head into Shabbos with our minds on Israel. Our thoughts are with our brothers and sisters in the holy land, and we who find ourselves elsewhere in the world can only imagine the heavy feeling of an entire country holding its breath moment to moment. It is especially apropos that we read Shelach for this week's Torah Portion, in which the Jewish people send spies into Israel.

This Torah Portion holds a special place in my heart, not only because it was my Bar Mitzvah Torah Portion, but because of its timeless message for the Jewish nation as a whole and for every person as an individual. The Jews in the desert were nervous about entering the land of Israel, so G-d allowed them to send twelve spies to scope out the situation and report back.

When they returned, they famously frightened the others with their accounts of giants occupying the land, supported by the enormous fruit they brought back. And here is where they made their one and only error. Not in recounting the facts––there were actual giants inhabiting Israel at the time––but in jumping to the conclusion that their presence would thwart the Jews' ability to enter the land.

G-d had already told them that they would conquer Israel and settle there. That was the Jewish nation's mission and destiny. The purpose of sending the spies, therefore, was not to see IF they could enter the land, but rather HOW. 

And isn't this so often the case with us? Everyone has a mission in this life. Every soul, every Jew, every person, is indispensable. Now that mission will undoubtedly come with obstacles. But the question is not IF you can succeed, but HOW. G-d gives you the tools, the support, and the strength to be successful, so you can venture forth with confidence.

Right now it frankly feels like the world is falling apart. Every day can be a challenge to keep your head up amidst the rampant antisemitism and hateful chaos we read in every news headline. But against all odds, the Jewish people are still trying to figure out the best way to enter the land of Israel––literally! People are still making Aliyah or signing up to help defend or rebuild our homeland. 

So let this be your reminder. Whatever giants you are facing day to day. The question is not should you proceed. It is not will you be successful? You already have everything you need to complete your divine mission. The only question is not IF, but HOW. 

 Shabbat Shalom

Rabbi Fishel Zaklos  

 

What Can we do

Dear Friends,

My heart is in Israel.

Israel is now at war with Iran, with the IDF engaged in the fight to defend the Holy Land and our brothers and sisters, and to bring peace to the region.

This is not just another war. This is not just another news cycle. This is a moment that will echo through history for generations.

As Israel goes into lockdown, with our hearts and eyes turned toward our homeland, it’s no coincidence that this week’s Torah portion recounts how, each time the Children of Israel set out on their perilous journeys, Moses would declare: “Arise, O G-d, and scatter Your enemies.”

Most of us are hundreds or thousands of miles away, in our own communities. Yet our very being cries out: How can we help? Is there anything we can do?

At this critical hour, Am Yisroel needs your prayers.

In a striking development, the Chief Rabbis of Israel have called on the public, in accordance with Home Front Command guidelines: Shabbat prayers should not be held in synagogues.

If Israelis can’t go to shul, we must go for them. Let our voices, our prayers, our presence in shul be not only for ourselves, but on behalf of our brothers and sisters who cannot gather. Now more than ever, our prayers must echo louder, stronger, and reach higher.

Here are a few suggestions I believe you’ll find meaningful:

Firstly, let’s gather tomorrow on Shabbat, June 14 at 11:00 a.m. to storm the Heavens on behalf of our brothers and sisters in the Holy Land. Join us for prayers and to stand in solidarity at Chabad Naples in support of Israel. If you don't usually come to Shul, please consider joining the Chabad Naples family this Shabbat. 

Secondly, always remember we are all connected. By performing a Mitzvah here, we uplift our brethren in Israel.

I urge you to adopt a Mitzvah in honor of the Israeli people. For men, if you haven’t yet, perhaps consider donning Tefillin regularly, even if it is once a week. For women, consider lighting the Shabbat and holiday candles on time.

If you are not sure which Mitzvah to choose, please reach out to me or Ettie. We will be happy to help.

Know that every Mitzvah strengthens our spiritual connection, bringing protection to our brothers and sisters in Israel. So, please choose a Mitzvah soon.

Thirdly, if you have contacts in Israel—and I believe most of us do—drop them a line. A call or an email expressing your care, mentioning the Mitzvah you’re taking up for them, can be uplifting.

Lastly,  give Tzedakah. Invest in Israel Bonds. There are many commendable organizations that deserve your support. Please give where your heart leads you. You can also contribute through our website by clicking here. In the comments, please write “Israel Emergency Fund." Let's lift up Israel with heart and action.

Our prayers, mitzvot and acts of charity on behalf of our brothers and sisters in Israel are not symbolic, they are powerful, as they are critical. They draw down Divine blessing and protection. They help ensure that G d’s watchful eye remains upon the Land and its people, guarding them from harm.

This is an unprecedented time and we need every one of us to be strong and be counted. We can’t just sit by. What we do here makes a difference there.

If not now, then when? And if not us, then who?

Friends, let’s pray to G-d from the bottom of our hearts:

Please G-d, be with the heroic members of Israel's Air Force, the IDF, our brothers and sisters in Israel, and the American troops in the region.

Please G-d, be with Israel’s leadership, that they make the right decisions for the safety and security of Israel.

Please G-d, bring back all hostages to their families.

Please G-d, enough with this exile. Please bring us Moshiach and make our world whole again.

Am Yisroel Chai!

Rabbi Fishel & Ettie Zaklos

 

 PSALM 23
1A song of David. The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

 2He causes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside still waters.

3He restores my soul; He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake.
4Even when I walk in the valley of darkness, I will fear no evil for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff - they comfort me.
 
5You set a table before me in the presence of my adversaries; You anointed my head with oil; my cup overflows.
 
6May only goodness and kindness pursue me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for length of days
 
PSALM 121

 A song for ascents.

I shall raise my eyes to the mountains, from where will my help come?

 2My help is from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.

 

3He will not allow your foot to falter; Your Guardian will not slumber.

 

4Behold the Guardian of Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.

 

5The Lord is your Guardian; the Lord is your shadow; [He is] by your right hand.

 

6By day, the sun will not smite you, nor will the moon at night.

 

7The Lord will guard you from all evil; He will guard your soul.

 

8The Lord will guard your going out and your coming in from now and to eternity.

 

  

350 Strong, One Heart: An Unforgettable Evening

Dear Friends,

Wednesday night’s event with Sapir Cohen and Sasha Troufanov was nothing short of extraordinary. With 350 strong and one heart, the atmosphere was electric—charged with emotion, hope, and Jewish pride.

As we gathered the day after Shavuot, the message of Jewish unity echoed powerfully through the evening. We came together from different backgrounds, affiliations, and walks of life, yet we stood as one people with one heart. Just like our ancestors at Mount Sinai, who were described in the Torah in the singular, “Vayichan sham Yisrael,” we, too, experienced that singularity last night—united in purpose, in prayer, and in love for our brothers and sisters.

So when the world, or the media, tries to tell us that we are hopelessly divided, fractured by politics or levels of observance, we’ll remember last night. We’ll remember the standing ovation, the shared tears, and the unshakable feeling of pride in being one family.

To Sapir and Sasha: Your courage lifted up the room. You reminded us of what we’re capable of as individuals and as a people. You are a living light in the darkness, and your strength inspires us all. We are forever changed.

To everyone who attended, thank you for being part of this unforgettable evening of strength, resilience, and unity.  

Thank you to all the generous sponsors who made this monumental evening possible. A special thank you to the incredible team of volunteers for a truly fabulous job!

And yet, even as we celebrated the miracle of Sasha and Sapir’s return, we cannot—we must not—forget the plight of those still in captivity.

Our precious brothers and sisters—men, women, children, and the elderly—continue to languish in the dark, suffocating tunnels beneath Gaza.

As of today, they have been held for 608 days. 608 DAYS!!!

How can this be?! How has the world allowed this to go on for so long?

We dare not become numb. We dare not grow complacent. We must not let our outrage wane or our prayers fade. Whether in the media, in the halls of Congress, in the White House, or in the heavens above, we must continue to raise our voices—loud, unwavering, and relentless—until every last hostage is brought home: those who are still alive, and those whose lives were so cruelly taken while in captivity but must be returned to their families and laid to rest with dignity and sanctity.

Bring them home. In peace. All of them. NOW.

Shabbat Shalom!

Rabbi Fishel & Ettie Zaklos  

350 Strong, One Heart: An Unforgettable Evening

Dear Friends,

Wednesday night’s event with Sapir Cohen and Sasha Troufanov was nothing short of extraordinary. With 350 strong and one heart, the atmosphere was electric—charged with emotion, hope, and Jewish pride.

As we gathered the day after Shavuot, the message of Jewish unity echoed powerfully through the evening. We came together from different backgrounds, affiliations, and walks of life, yet we stood as one people with one heart. Just like our ancestors at Mount Sinai, who were described in the Torah in the singular, “Vayichan sham Yisrael,” we, too, experienced that singularity last night—united in purpose, in prayer, and in love for our brothers and sisters.

So when the world, or the media, tries to tell us that we are hopelessly divided, fractured by politics or levels of observance, we’ll remember last night. We’ll remember the standing ovation, the shared tears, and the unshakable feeling of pride in being one family.

To Sapir and Sasha: Your courage lifted up the room. You reminded us of what we’re capable of as individuals and as a people. You are a living light in the darkness, and your strength inspires us all. We are forever changed.

To everyone who attended, thank you for being part of this unforgettable evening of strength, resilience, and unity.  

Thank you to all the generous sponsors who made this monumental evening possible. A special thank you to the incredible team of volunteers for a truly fabulous job!

And yet, even as we celebrated the miracle of Sasha and Sapir’s return, we cannot—we must not—forget the plight of those still in captivity.

Our precious brothers and sisters—men, women, children, and the elderly—continue to languish in the dark, suffocating tunnels beneath Gaza.

As of today, they have been held for 608 days. 608 DAYS!!!

How can this be?! How has the world allowed this to go on for so long?

We dare not become numb. We dare not grow complacent. We must not let our outrage wane or our prayers fade. Whether in the media, in the halls of Congress, in the White House, or in the heavens above, we must continue to raise our voices—loud, unwavering, and relentless—until every last hostage is brought home: those who are still alive, and those whose lives were so cruelly taken while in captivity but must be returned to their families and laid to rest with dignity and sanctity.

Bring them home. In peace. All of them. NOW.

Shabbat Shalom!

Rabbi Fishel & Ettie Zaklos  

SAD SAD DAY...

SAD SAD DAY...

Dear Friends,

Our hearts are shattered by the murder of two Israeli Embassy staff members outside a function at the Jewish Museum in Washington, DC.

Yaron Lischinsky and Sarah Milgrim, two beautiful souls taken in an act of terror. Their dreams were stolen. Their future erased. Our sorrow and outrage are beyond words.

They were peacebuilders. Bridge-makers. Proud Jews. And for that, their lives were stolen.

This must be a wake-up call. Allowing antisemitism to fester, leads to murder and terror. Antisemitism is not just a Jewish problem. It is a blemish on the civilized world. It requires a whole of society response. This is a matter of life and death.

Let's honor their holy and precious souls, and as difficult as it seems, let's try to channel today's emotions into actions. Action in confronting our enemies, action in improving ourselves, strengthening our unity, increasing in mitzvot, and reciting prayers and Psalms in their loving memory. 

Let's join together this Shabbat at the Chabad of Naples Mishpacha to honor their precious souls. 

To their families, friends, and all who knew and loved them, we mourn with you. We hold you in our hearts and prayers during this unimaginable time.

This Shabbat as we conclude the book of Vayikra, we are reminded of the eternal command: “You shall not stand idly by the blood of your fellow” (Vayikra 19:16). We cannot be silent.

And with the words Chazak, Chazak, v’nitchazek — “Be strong, be strong, and let us strengthen one another” — may we find the courage to carry each other forward with unity, purpose, and faith.

May their memories be a blessing.

We pray that God will finally wipe away all tears, heal the broken hearts, and bring true comfort to us all.

With love and resolve.

Am Yisroel Chai.

Rabbi Fishel & Ettie Zaklos

We don't burn out. We burn brighter

 Dear friends,

This is an exciting week coming up, and let me tell you why.

As a child, I remember Lag BaOmer was always a special holiday. And now, as an adult, it’s even more meaningful. The message behind it is deeply relevant—perhaps more now than ever.

This coming Thursday is a special day on the Jewish calendar. It marks the passing of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai, the Talmudic sage who introduced the study of Jewish mysticism to the masses.

It also marks the day when the plague stopped among the students of Rabbi Akiva.

And here is the powerful message:

When Rabbi Akiva lost 24,000 students, he didn’t become hopeless. He didn’t give up or give in. When the last funeral concluded, when the last shiva was observed, on Lag BaOmer he found five new students and started again.

Lag BaOmer is the celebration of never becoming hopeless or despondent. It is a day of tenacity, resilience, and a commitment to carry on and to continue our magnificent heritage and sacred mission in this world. The message is clear: keep the fire burning. Keep the passion, energy, and enthusiasm going. Live the legacy of Rabbi Akiva, Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai, and the holy souls we’ve lost since October 7.

Let’s shine their light forward. We carry their mission. And we must never allow that light to dim.

Especially now, with everything going on in the world, it’s easy to feel drained. Sometimes it can feel like our inner flame is fading. But this is precisely when we need to dig deeper. To keep the fire of our neshama alive and glowing. To stay connected. To stay inspired. Because the world needs our light more than ever. Every mitzvah, every act of kindness, every moment of Jewish pride adds fuel to that flame. We don’t burn out. We burn brighter.

As we pray for ourselves and our families, let’s also pray for all those who will spend this Shabbos without their loved ones. Pray for the hostages and for the holy land of Israel, the Jewish people, and the world over—for light, love, and peace.

Lag BaOmer is a special day of unity. When God looks down and sees His children united, He opens the heavens and showers blessings upon us all.

Let’s come together this Thursday at 6 PM for a special community Lag BaOmer barbecue. The greatest blessing is when we stand united as a community. “How good and how pleasant it is when brothers and sisters dwell together.” It will be a beautiful time to reconnect, to celebrate, and to uplift one another. Please RSVP by clicking here. We can’t wait to see you there.

Rabbi Fishel & Ettie Zaklos 

 

Letting Go, Holding On, and Moving Forward!

Dear Friends,

The miracle of 1948 was repeated in 1967, again in 1973 - and we continue to pray for it to be repeated once more, half a century later, following October 7, 2023.

It is the miracle of the G-d of Israel saving the People of Israel from the hands of those who, time and again, declare their intent to destroy her. One of the most haunting images of October 7 is of Shiri clutching her children with all her might. Another face etched into our collective memory is that of Noa Argamani, torn from her partner at the Nova Festival, clinging to the back of a motorcycle.

Last week, Noa was named one of Time Magazine’s 100 Most Influential People of 2025. She is a global beacon of strength and resilience. Just days after her rescue, she was seen dancing with her father at a party. It raised eyebrows, but in that moment, she became the living embodiment of “we will dance again.” Despite 246 days in captivity, the loss of her mother, and her partner still in captivity, Noa knew the power of letting go and pushing towards a better future.

These two opposite images—one of holding on with all your might, and one of letting go with all your heart—tell the story of the Jewish people. We are a people who have held on—for dear life—through exile, loss, and pain. And yet, we are also a people who have learned, when necessary, to let go, to move forward, to rebuild, and to hope again.

Letting go is hard. Sometimes harder than holding on.

Letting go is never easy, but we come to learn how to do it throughout life.

 We are also a people who know how to hold on—to our history, our traditions, and to hope. Yehuda Halevi called us “asirei tikvah”—prisoners of hope. The only prison we Jews are proud to be in.

 Hope, is one thing we never let go of. The Jewish people have clung to it through centuries of exile, persecution, and heartbreak. We’ve imagined redemption again and again. And we still do. Despite being exiled to every corner of the globe.

This Shabbat, let’s do what we do best as a community, keep imagining, keep hoping, and know that together, we will all dance again

We pray for G-d’s continued protection and deliverance of the Jewish people from those who seek our harm.

But we also recommit.

We recommit to living more Jewishly. To shining more brightly. To giving the world the light that it so desperately needs - the light for which Hashem created the Jewish people and sent every soul, into this world: to illuminate it.

Rabbi Fishel & Ettie Zaklos

A Letter to My Dear Older Brother

 

Yossi pic (1).jpeg
 
Dear Yossi,
28 years. Even as I write this I have a hard time believing it’s been so long. Your presence still plays a very real, vivid, and tangible role in my life. Your passion and principles inspire me every single day to be the best that I can be.

To those of you reading this, tonight marks the anniversary of my older brother’s passing. Tonight also commemorates the splitting of the red sea. Yossi, too, seemed to split obstacles, going through them to get to the other side, accomplishing his goals. He dived right in to whatever he attempted and gave it his all, fully and with no restrictions. He grabbed life with both hands and LIVED it. And he ALWAYS maintained a positive, upbeat attitude, even in the years during his aggressive treatments in Sloan Kettering. I was his caretaker for two years and I never saw his infectious positivity waver for a second.

Yossi lived for others, caring especially for those who are often ignored. He was selfless and always sensitive to those around him. He did things because it was right and wanting to be of service to G-d and to fulfill his dear Mentor the Rebbe’s calling.

One of his many aspirations that he so deeply desired was establishing a Chabad House. He would often talk dreamily about how one day he wanted to reach out to a community to create a warm and loving place, and as he visited various Chabad centers for Shabbat or events I would hear his ideas develop.
While he was unable to follow that dream personally, I know that it is with his blessings that I am privileged to be his hands and feet in the work that Ettie and I are doing at Chabad of Naples, together with our children—how I wish you could have met them! Yossi, I know if you were here you would be leading an army of light to fight against the darkness so many of us feel today. May we take up the charge in your absence and join forces with the battle you are undoubtedly fighting on our behalf on high.

I miss you my beloved Yossi! You made me a better person, a more real person. Your life was too short, and I miss you terribly, but we will continue to try to incorporate what you taught me from the precious, abbreviated days we spent together. A legacy of pure goodness.

You are forever in our hearts, minds, and actions. To anyone else who has experienced the deep and life-altering loss of a loved one, know that I see you. But also know that the good we do here on earth in their memory helps us connect to them, find a tiny gleaming flicker of solace, and gladdens their soul up above.

If you can, please do some mitzvah — a good deed in Yossi’s honor. I have no doubt that he is advocating for us in the heavens for an end to pain and suffering for all. Let’s do our part to spread kindness and light!
Forever your younger brother,
 
Fishey 

Keep Believing

Dear Friends,

We hope your Pesach was beautiful, inspiring, and filling in both body and spirit.

Thank God at Chabad of Naples we were blessed with so many beautiful people joining us together for our BIG Family Seder at the Chabad Naples, well attended services, and many Yom Tov meals together sharing words of Torah, song and celebration.

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As we approach the final days of the festival, here’s a powerful reminder rooted in our earliest history.

When G‑d promised Abraham and Sarah a child, it seemed completely impossible. They were old, long past the age of parenthood. But then G‑d took Abraham outside and said: “Look up at the sky and count the stars, if you can. So shall your descendants be.”

Now pause and imagine that moment. Faced with a sky full of stars, Abraham could’ve laughed. He could’ve walked back inside. He could’ve said, “This is ridiculous.”

But he didn’t.

He looked up and he began counting.

One. Two. Three…

In response, G‑d said:

“כֹּה יִהְיֶה זַרְעֶךָ — So shall your children be.”

Not just as numerous as the stars, but like Abraham himself: the kind of people who begin counting, even when the task seems impossible.

That has always been the spirit of the Jewish people. In every generation we end the Seder with the words: “לשָׁנָה הַבָּאָה בִּירוּשָׁלָיִם — Next year in Jerusalem.”

This wasn’t just a hope; it was a declaration, a commitment to making the impossible possible. And then, miraculously, the dream that seemed so far away was realized. The stars were counted.

As we head towards the final days of Pesach, and ask for our final redemption remember: impossible is just an idea. Inside it lives a promise: I’M POSSIBLE.

Keep counting. Keep believing. We are the children of Abraham and Sarah.

And we must keep believing—not just in the promises of the past, but in the hope of today. In the face of darkness, in the face of what feels impossible, we must hold onto faith and action. Just as Abraham looked up and began to count the stars, we must continue to count every soul, every prayer, every act of courage, and never give up hope that all the hostages will return home to freedom, to life, to light.

Which brings us to this moment of strength and clarity:

Mazal tov to former hostage Noa Argamani, named one of TIME Magazine’s 100 Most Influential People of 2025.

Recognized in the “Leaders” category, Noa’s strength and advocacy have captured hearts around the world. Abducted from the Nova music festival and held in Gaza for 246 days, her rescue by Israeli forces last June was a moment of national and global relief.

Since then, she’s refused to stay silent. She’s become a fierce voice for the 59 hostages still in captivity, including her partner, Avinatan Or. In February, she made history as the first released hostage to brief the UN Security Council. And she hasn’t stopped since.

Sharing the TIME honor, she wrote:

“I made a promise to bring them home, including my love, Avinatan. We must not stop. Bring Them All Home Now.”

Noa’s story is more than one of survival—it’s a testament to resilience, purpose, and the power of one voice.

Even in the darkest moments, she reminds us that strength can be found, hope can be shared, and action can ripple outward. As Noa said: “We must not stop.”

Because each of us, wherever we are, can choose to be a light. We all have the power to be “most influential” in our own corner of the world.

Chag Sameach!

Rabbi Fishel & Ettie Zaklos

True Joy Is Never Alone

Dear Friends,

As the holiday of Passover descends upon us, Ettie, Mendel, Yitzi, Chaya and Hinda join me in wishing you and yours a truly joyful Passover holiday. 

We are thinking of family and friends far and near and wishing you a very special holiday full of quality time and traditional experiences creating lifelong memories with family and friends.

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A Path to True Happiness: The Jewish Way

Almost every young person begins life thinking happiness is about getting. If I get the right job, the right house, the right approval, or the right recognition, then I’ll be happy. But then life pulls you aside and teaches you something different.

True happiness, the kind that lasts, doesn’t come from what you get. It comes from what you give.

In Jewish tradition, we have a word for happiness: simcha. And what’s fascinating is that in all the pages of the Torah, you’ll never find simcha happening in isolation. Joy in Judaism is never about one person alone. It’s always something shared.

Let me give you two brief examples.

First, when a man gets married, the Torah exempts him from military service for an entire year. Why? To stay home and bring joy to his wife. Not so he can be happy or go on a honeymoon, but so he can make someone else happy. Because joy in Judaism doesn’t begin with me—it begins with you.

Second, the great festivals of the Jewish year—Passover, Shavuot, and Sukkot—are called zman simchateinu, “seasons of our joy.” But listen carefully to who is invited. The Torah says, “You shall rejoice, you, your sons and daughters, your servants, the Levite, the stranger, the orphan, and the widow”. This is not just a guest list, it’s a worldview. Everyone belongs—the powerful and the vulnerable, the insiders and the outsiders.

If your joy isn’t big enough to hold someone else, it’s not joy yet.

As we prepare for Passover, let’s take a moment to see who we can invite or assist to help make their holiday joyful. It’s in the giving that we truly experience simcha.

And most of all, as we recount the story of our liberation, we cannot forget the 59 hostages still held in Gaza. We hold them deeply in our hearts. We will pray for them, cry out for them, and do everything we can—through mitzvot, through support, and through unity—so that they are reunited with their families now, this Passover. And then, together, we will all experience the truest and greatest joy.

Wishing you a meaningful, happy, and kosher Passover.

Rabbi Fishel & Ettie Zaklos  

Come Home to Your Chabad Naples Family

Dear Friends,

Can you believe it? Passover is already just a week away! As we prepare for Passover, let’s keep the following in mind.

One of the most remarkable statements in the Haggadah is, “Our ancestors started out as idol worshippers, but now G-d has brought us near to serve Him.”

I think it’s a remarkable statement because it goes against how ancient people typically defined themselves, idealizing and glamorizing their national founders. Jews, however, open their story with: “Our ancestor, Abraham’s father was a schlemiel; he worshiped sticks and stones…”

Why do we say this?

The Rebbe, offers a moving answer. Passover, by all accounts, is the most observed Jewish holiday in our times. Many Jews at the Seder are inspired by the sanctity and majesty of the evening. But some of our brothers and sisters who are disaffiliated fear they’ve discovered Judaism too late and that it’s now too difficult to reshape their lives to live Jewishly.

The Haggadah’s response is clear: “Don’t despair. Know that your predicament is no different from that of our people as a whole.”

“In the beginning, our ancestors were idol worshippers” – just pagans, no different from the people among whom they lived. However, “now G-d has brought us close to His service.”

We grew spiritually. The whole story of the Jewish people is one of rising from the very bottom, of emerging from the lowest depths. Any Jew who returns to Judaism today, despite a complete lack of background, encapsulates our entire Jewish history.

This passage reminds us that no matter how low we’ve fallen, no matter how far we think we’ve gone, we can always return to our faith and tradition. We are children of Abraham and Sarah. We can always come home.

I remember when I was a child at camp, we used to sing the song: “No matter where you may roam, you can always come back home.” Even if, for whatever reason, you’ve felt disillusioned or have not attended shul for a long time, come home to the beautiful Chabad of Naples family, where you’ll be welcomed with open arms and feel like family.

Come and join us tomorrow at 10:30 for Shabbat services, followed by the Kiddush luncheon.

Wishing you all a Shabbat Shalom and an early Happy Passover!

Rabbi Fishel & Ettie Zaklos

Unfinished Freedom: A Call to Purpose

Dear Friends,

As we prepare to celebrate the holiday of Passover, we are reminded of the quintessential Jewish story of freedom. The Exodus from Egypt, with its dramatic plagues, parted seas, and miraculous manna, is an epic tale of liberation that has inspired countless generations. This year of course, the discussion of freedom feels decidedly heavier, as our own brothers and sisters are still being held hostage in Gaza. This drums up a potent mixture of feelings––grief, anger, disbelief, and even guilt. Why do I get to be free when so many are not? Do I deserve my freedom? Am I doing enough with it?

But before we can try to answer any of those questions for ourselves, we need to begin with a simpler question: What does true freedom really mean? And how can we ensure that our own pursuit of freedom doesn't devolve into chaos and moral confusion?

The Torah's answer to this question is both profound and counterintuitive. True freedom, we are taught, is not simply the absence of external constraints, but rather the presence of internal values and principles. In other words, freedom is not just about being free from something, but also about being free for something – namely, a life of purpose, kindness, and compassion.

This idea is beautifully encapsulated in the Hebrew word for freedom, "cherut." While often translated as "freedom," "cherut" is more accurately rendered as "freedom with a purpose" or "directed freedom." This nuance is crucial, for it suggests that true freedom is not an end in itself, but rather a means to an end – the end being a life of moral responsibility, spiritual growth, and service to others.

Without this sense of purpose and direction, freedom can quickly degenerate into anarchy and moral ambivalence. When we are free to do as we please, without any guiding principles or values, we risk succumbing to our basest impulses and desires. We become slaves to our own whims, rather than masters of our own destiny.

This is precisely what happened to the Israelites during their journey through the wilderness. Fresh from their miraculous deliverance from Egypt, they were initially ecstatic and grateful. But as time wore on, and the novelty of their freedom began to wear off, they started to give in to their selfish desires and impulses. They began to complain, to rebel, and to worship idols – demonstrating a profound lack of appreciation for the true meaning of their freedom.

In contrast, our sages taught that true freedom is not about doing as we please, but about doing as we ought. It is about living a life of purpose, principle, and kindness – a life that is guided by the values of the Torah and the wisdom of our traditions. Historically, the biggest battles the Jewish people have fought have been over our freedom to live Jewishly.

Passover this year brings with it not only reminders of ancient slavery, but images of modern slavery in real time. The Jewish people, and good people the world over, are in anguish over the hostages who have yet to be freed from their literal bondage. Truly, we cannot imagine the depths of suffering they are enduring every moment that ticks by. It seems that at our seders this year, the saltwater in which we dip our karpas may very well be our own tears. 

Thus we revisit our earlier question. Why me and not them? Why do I get to be free, and what am I doing with said freedom? Often we already wonder if we are doing enough with our lives. If we are making a difference in the world; traversing the most purposeful path. While we enjoy external freedom, internally we are far from free. So what can we do?

Let us return to the true meaning of freedom. Let us recall that our liberation from Egypt was not just a physical event, but a spiritual one – a call to live a life of intention, generosity, and connection. And let us strive to make our own freedom meaningful, by using it to serve others, to grow spiritually, to pray for the immediate release of those in bondage, to give charity, to give of our very selves; doing everything in our power to make the world a better place. Not just for the few nor the many, but for all.

In this way, we will truly merit the blessing of freedom, and we will be able to say, with the great Rabbi Hillel, "If I am not for myself, who will be for me? But if I am only for myself, what am I?" 

Looking forward to welcoming you at Chabad Naples, where Shabbat is a celebration of freedom, connection, and true blessing. Wishing you a beautiful and meaningful Shabbat,

Rabbi Fishel & Ettie Zaklos  


 

What a Purim! “I” Becomes “We”

Dear Friends,

What a Purim! 

Seeing so many people come together to celebrate with such joy and spirit, especially in these challenging times for Israel and the Jewish people, was truly uplifting. The energy, unity, and warmth in the room were a testament to our community’s incredible growth. You don’t have to wait for a holiday to witness it. Join us any Shabbat and you’ll see the vibrant, overflowing, and truly remarkable community, bursting at its seams.

The most beautiful thing is that each week, friends bring friends, and at the famous Kiddush, we welcome them in the warm and joyous world famous Chabad Naples style. It all reflects the heart and soul of our ever-growing Chabad Naples family.

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“I” Becomes “We”

Herb Brooks, coach of the legendary 1980 US Olympic ice hockey team, led a group of amateur players to a stunning victory over the Soviet Union—a moment known as the Miracle on Ice. How did he do it? His team was scattered, divided, exhausted. He pushed them relentlessly.

“How long will you torture us?” they cried. Brooks replied: “Until each of you understands that the name on the front of your jersey is more important than the one on the back.”

In Judaism, community is essential to spiritual life. We pray together, study Torah together, mourn and celebrate together.

Our holiest prayers require a minyan.  Even when we confess, we do so together,not just in the individual, but in the kehillah—the collective spirit.

This week’s Torah portion, Vayakhel—“and he gathered”—reminds us of this truth. After the golden calf, Moses gathers the people to focus on something greater:  Building of the Mishkan (Tabernacle). Each person gave what they could—time, skill, resources. And only through this shared effort did the Sanctuary become a home for G-d’s presence.

Moses knew: the best way to unite people is to have them build together—to lift their eyes beyond the “I” and focus on the “we.”

When we invest in each other and in our community, we discover joy, purpose, and the power of belonging—not just to ourselves, but to something greater, something deep and truly meaningful.

Shabbat Shalom!

Rabbi Fishel & Ettie Zaklos  

 

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