The writing of a Sefer Torah

It is of utmost significance when a community comes together for a good cause. It is extraordinary for a community to come together for the writing of a Sefer Torah. The mitzvah to write a Sefer Torah is the final of the 613th Mitzvos recorded in the Torah. It is by no means an easy mitzvah to complete, and perhaps that is why it is the final mitzvah in the Torah. It is a most labor-intensive exercise with the Sofer (scribe) writing it letter by letter and word by word in this most painstaking process. There are 304,805 letters, which translate into 79,976 words and 5,845 verses (pesukim). ​ The world has evolved since the advent of the printing press by Gutenberg in 1440. Printed books have become the norm, and in a sense, the world has never looked back. In more recent times, with the arrival of the internet and the proliferation of digital libraries, handwritten books are almost non-existent. For those reasons alone, it is so remarkable to have an entire Sefer Torah written. That might just be the starting point, as the Sefer Torah represents something so central to our core essence that it defines who we are as a people. What makes the Jewish People unique is that we are a nation that accepted the covenant from G-d, and it was consummated on Mt. Sinai when we received and accepted the Divine word. As the Talmudic sage, Rav Yosef said about Shavuos (anniversary of receiving the Torah), “if not for this day, I would just be another Joe in the street.” It is for that reason that the reading of the Torah is the focal point of the Tefila/Service on Shabbos. We remove this sacred scroll from the ark and read from the text, and our souls become enriched for another week. At a later time, Ezra instructed that we should read from the Torah on Monday and Thursday as well, as one should not go more than three days without reading it. It is for those reasons (and more) that I consider it an honor of a lifetime to have this new Sefer Torah commissioned and written in my honor. It is so special that so many people from the community and beyond have come together for this sacred Mitzvah. The notion of a Kehila collaborating for such a sacred cause represents the very best in Judaism. I invite everyone to join us as we gather to welcome the new Sefer Torah into our shul by participating in a most festive procession that will begin from our home on Sunday morning. ​ Have a Peaceful Shabbos, ​ Rabbi Yaakov Fisch

Patience in the Process

Black Monday hit the NFL with a vengeance this year. Black Monday is the day following the last day of the regular season in the NFL, in which teams unhappy with their performances in the season will fire their head coach. This year, 10 head coaches have been let go since their teams' seasons ended. Considering there are only 32 teams, that's nearly a third of them! Perhaps the most surprising firing was the Buffalo Bills, who let go head coach Sean McDermott, who posted a 98-50 record during his time in Buffalo and made the playoffs for eight of the nine seasons he coached in this frigid city next to Lake Erie. While I am not a sports analyst, I feel a need to weigh in on these firings. ​ I believe that these coaches were fired because their owners were unhappy that their teams did not reach the Super Bowl or go 17-0 during the regular season. The reality is that only one team can win the championship, and there is a lengthy process for a team to evolve from a basement dweller to a contender to a champion. Patience is not a virtue in a society that wants to win now and always win. ​ The Torah teaches us that, upon the conclusion of each of the six days of creation, G-d said, “It was good.” There is one exception to this, and that was on Monday. Rashi, in his commentary, says that the omission is intentional because the work on Monday was not completed until Tuesday. For that reason, the Torah records that G-d said “it was good” twice on Tuesday. The larger lesson is that anything important in life involves a process and takes time for it to come to fruition. ​ As time goes on, our generation has less and less patience for processes and wants instant results. This doesn't manifest itself only on the football field, but rather in all areas of life. From building and sustaining our marriages to child raising to developing a relationship with G-d, one must be committed to a process. If anyone tells me that they have no issues and have instant success, it should be viewed with suspicion. It’s easy to get discouraged when we don’t see the results we want at the speed we would like, but let us remember that G-d taught us this lesson of process when He waited until Tuesday to complete the work of Monday. ​ Have a Peaceful Shabbos, ​ Rabbi Yaakov Fisch

Living with Contradictions

I was recently walking in an airport terminal and passed by a smokers' lounge. There were several people smoking and otherwise relaxing while they had their nicotine fix. There was a very large sign on the wall with the following words prominently displayed. It stated, “SMOKING WILL KILL YOU.” The harsh and blunt warning didn’t seem to faze any of the smokers. How does one explain such behavior? Is it that they don’t believe the warning? Do they not care about their own well-being? The answer for most people is that this behavior is referred to as cognitive dissonance, and it is one of the most well-researched areas in psychology. Cognitive Dissonance is a state of mental discomfort that occurs when a person holds beliefs or opinions that are inconsistent with or conflict with an aspect of their behavior. Because that discomfort feels unpleasant, our brain is motivated to reduce the tension, often by changing how we think rather than how we act. In other words, there is a disconnect between the knowledge we have and our physical actions. The other alternatives would be to dispute the information or to discontinue the action. However, as complex people who live with various contradictions, we try to explain away the inconsistencies. As much as we think it's only other people who behave this way, the reality is that we are all complex people with various contradictions in our lives. We find this behaviour in our parsha this week, as we see the progression of Pharaoh's reaction to the ten plagues. At first, he was more defiant. At a certain point, he knew that G-d was orchestrating the plagues, and he needed to acquiesce and allow the Jews to be freed. There was this cognitive dissonance that Pharaoh displayed, and in some way, we all suffer from these inconsistencies. There are manifestations of cognitive dissonance in our spiritual lives. While we may know certain truths from the Torah, our actions may not reflect those truths. How can one overcome these inconsistencies and live a life more aligned with their values? One of the more thoughtful mussar leaders of recent times, Rabbi Dessler wrote that our thoughts follow our actions, not the other way around. For example, if a person wants to improve in their Tefila/prayer, it would be more impactful to start with an action, and the thoughts will follow. Even if the actions are relatively modest, one should adopt that change. Consistent behavior reshapes desire, helping us better align with our fundamental values. The alternative is to fall further into decline with more inconsistencies. That was the path of Pharaoh in Egypt, and at some point, we must all leave Egypt. ​ Have a Peaceful Shabbos, ​ Rabbi Yaakov Fisch

Uncomfortable Choices

As Jews living in the Diaspora, we are sometimes faced with uncomfortable choices. Occasionally, this can happen at a gathering where non-kosher food is served, even though you have requested or ordered a kosher meal. While everyone is digging into this delicious food, you may be unwrapping multiple layers of silver foil. The stares are inevitable, and you might have some explaining to do. Another person might not want to rock the boat and stick out and will just take the non-kosher option. ​ This conundrum is not new, and we have been living with this tension for thousands of years. In this week's parsha, the Torah records, וְכַאֲשֶׁר֙ יְעַנּ֣וּ אֹת֔וֹ כֵּ֥ן יִרְבֶּ֖ה וְכֵ֣ן יִפְרֹ֑ץ. Translation: “The more they afflicted them, the more they multiplied and spread out.” External pressure somehow catalyzed internal growth. Throughout Jewish history, periods of hostility have often clarified commitments that had grown fuzzy during easier times. What explains this? The Midrash identifies specific cultural markers the Israelites preserved throughout enslavement: they did not change their names, they did not change their language, and they did not change their dress. These weren’t arbitrary choices. They were psychological anchors that prevented identity collapse across centuries of oppression. Modern social psychology validates this ancient wisdom. Marilynn Brewer’s theory on Optimal Distinctiveness explains why such boundaries matter: People need both belonging and distinctiveness to thrive psychologically. A group that abandons all distinctive markers often experiences distress rather than relief. As issues range from wearing a yarmulke/kippah in public to requesting a kosher meal, the need to blend in and not make waves is a convenient choice. Our weekly parsha and modern research suggests that individuals who abandon core identity markers in pursuit of acceptance often experience hollowness rather than belonging. This insight reflects a deeper truth: We contribute most meaningfully when we contribute from a place of authentic selfhood, not when we’ve erased everything that makes our perspective distinctive. Yes, of course, it may be more convenient not to request the kosher meal or wear the Kippah in public. However, we did not survive as a people connected to an eternal covenant because of the value of convenience. I am reminded of the words of Allan Boesak, an anti-apartheid activist, who wrote the following. “When we go before Him, G-d will ask, ‘Where are your wounds?’ And we will say, ‘We have no wounds.’ And G-d will ask, ‘Was there nothing worth fighting for?’” The words of Boesak haunt me, and this is a question we should all want a good answer to. Have a Peaceful Shabbos, Rabbi Yaakov Fisch

Happy New Year

Happy 2026! The ball dropped at Times Square, so it’s official. A fair question may be, is what happened 2026 years ago? The answer really is nothing. While officially the number of years on the calendar is to mark the birth of Jesus, the vast majority of Christian scholars admit that Jesus was not born in year 1 CE. They seem to think he was born anytime between 4-6 BCE. (The notion that he was born on December 25 is also highly unlikely as that date was chosen centuries later and was mainly chosen to align with the Roman holiday that celebrated the god of Saturn that occurred in December.) The number of years on the Gregorian (named after Pope Gregory) Calendar of 2026 stands in stark contrast to the Jewish calendar which counts the years from the creation of Man. As we our liturgy on Rosh Hashanah says, זה היום תחילת מעשיך. Translation: “this day was the first day of your handiwork. (The primary handiwork of G-d was the creation of Man.) To be sure, Jewish law recognizes secular dates as to some significance and even can be included in official documents. The Mishna in the beginning of Rosh Hashanah writes of the concept of ראש השנה למלכים or Rosh Hashanah for kings. Many official documents and contracts were dated to reflect how many years that particular king was in office. The dating of documents and contracts that had Halachic validity were called Minyan Shtaros. The counting of years related to how long a king reigned included gentile kings. We find sources for this in Tanach (Hebrew Bible). For example, the Book of Ezra cites specific events related to how many years King Cyrus reigned. Which brings us back to January 1 as a New Year. While this actual day doesn’t really commemorate anything, it has nonetheless become a fixture on our calendar. It can be used as an opportunity for one to be thoughtful about embracing goals that enhance one's physical, emotional or spiritual well being. As we are entering the second quarter of the Jewish year of 5786, it may be a good time to check in to our inner self and ask the uncomfortable questions as to how our aspirations and goals are aligned with our practical lives and daily schedule. If the catalyst for this inner conversation is the New Years designated on January 1, then so be it. Have a Peaceful Shabbos, Rabbi Yaakov Fisch

Praying for uninterrupted light

The contrast couldn’t have been more stark. At the gathering of the Jewish Community in Bondi Beach, Australia, two terrorists filled with hate and thoroughly evil intentionally killed at least 16 people. People came together to light the Menorah, and at that moment, so much darkness was unleashed. There are times when one is at a loss for words, and this may be one of those. It was an event supposed to be filled with light. How can you put into words the sheer scope and magnitude of this tragedy? ​ The Torah states that the order of creation was that darkness was created, and only then was light created. Our Rabbi teaches us that on a deeper level, we must experience darkness before we can experience the light. We are familiar with the fact that darkness and light are not only about a time of day or when a light is turned on or off. Darkness and light represent different periods in life during which we experience blessings or curses. Light represents not only material blessings but also spiritual blessings. One can feel the countenance of G-d during this period. As we pray in the final blessing of Sim Shalom in the Amida, בָּרְ֒כֵֽנוּ אָבִֽינוּ כֻּלָּֽנוּ כְּאֶחָד בְּאוֹר פָּנֶֽיךָ. Translation: “Bless us, our Father, all of us as one with the light of Your countenance.” It is this light that the Chanukah lights reflect. It is well beyond the physical light coming from a candle or a burning wick. Darkness represents the very opposite of this countenance. The face of G-d is hidden during these times of darkness, and much pain and tragedy ensue. For whatever reason, it was divinely decreed that we must undergo the period of darkness before we may merit to see the light. As we continue to suffer in the dark, we look upwards and say to G-d, Have we not suffered enough? When will the era of uninterrupted light finally commence? In this week's Parsha, our Patriarch Yaakov, in his prayers, invokes the name of G-d as שד-י. Rashi explains that this name is associated with the word די (enough). The reason that Yaakov called out to G-d with the name שד-י is that he was pleading, “may He say 'Enough!” to my troubles.” (יֹאמַר דַּי לְצָרוֹתַ) ​ As we gather to light the last few Chanukah lights, let us invoke the same prayer of our ancestor Yaakov, and may we finally have a breakthrough to uninterrupted light. ​ Have a Peaceful Shabbos, Rabbi Yaakov Fisch

Light Up the World

The polar vortex is coming again. Meteorologists are forecasting a “triple dip” of sub-zero temperatures in a good part of the country in December. Even the Great State of Florida will not be immune to the frigid air. Temperatures as low as 33 degrees Fahrenheit are forecast, increasing the risk of frost and damage to sensitive outdoor vegetation. I know that polar vortex when I see some of the trees in our neighbourhood sporting sweaters. ​ The truth is that it’s not only cold and dark in a physical sense. The Jewish people are once again encountering the cold and dark experiences that our ancestors experienced regularly, but we thought were in the rear-view mirror of history. ​ As we gather on Sunday night to once again light the Chanukah candles, it is an opportunity to bring light into this dark world. Our Rabbis teach that lighting the candles is merely a physical manifestation of our actively bringing the light of G-d into the world. There is an unusual practice related to Chanukah called “Pirsumei Nisa.” (Translation: to let the miracle be known to the public.) We are not merely obligated to light the Menorah, but obligated to light it in public. Even if someone is lighting at home, it should not be inside but rather at the door or window. There is no parallel obligation to any of the other Jewish holidays. One can ask, as we say at the Pesach seder, Mah Nishtana! Why do we light the Chanukah lights in public display when there is such an obligation for any other Mitzvah? ​ The reason for the unusual practice is that it underscores a primary theme of Chanukah. The physical light that we kindle is merely a physical manifestation of the spiritual and Divine light that enters our world. In a space and time rife with societal breakdown of so many of our most cherished values, it is the Divine light of the Chanukah lights that reminds us to be the best versions of ourselves. As we gather this Sunday night to light the first candle, let us remind ourselves that, despite all the chaos and darkness that we find ourselves in, we have the power to bring the most exalted light into our world. All we need to do is light the match. ​ Have a Peaceful Shabbos, ​ Rabbi Yaakov Fisch