Chabad Israel Center was thrilled to host a Chanukah concert this week featuring Israeli pop singer Gad Elbaz. Even more thrilled were my kids who got to stay up late and witness the spectacular show. They ended up going to bed rather later than usual at 10:30pm. By the time I had wrapped things up backstage and in the hall itself, it was well past 1am, and so I was looking forward to a good few hours rest. Almost as my head hit the pillow though, I heard my three-year-old son Mendel calling out for me.
I gently lifted him out of his bed and brought him to mine- a tactic that usually has him calm and asleep within seconds. Only this time, he simply wouldn’t relax. Mendel was in the midst of a gripping nightmare, and quite simply could not shake himself out of it. He was screaming and fidgeting, and so eventually Shevy held him in her arms and soothed him for several minutes.
Interestingly, Mendel’s experience is not limited to children nor to the middle of the night. Precisely the same scenario shapes human life. The Chassidic Masters note that the first exile of the Jewish people in Egypt came about through a haze of dreams. Joseph’s dreams regarding his sovereignty over his brothers, the baker’s and butler’s dreams in the Egyptian dungeon, and Pharoah’s dreams signifying the famine that would befall Egypt were all catalysts that triggered the arrival of Joseph and his entire family to Egypt where their descendants were to suffer enslavement and persecution until their liberation by Moses. As the Psalmist notes in Chapter 126, "When G-d will return the exiles of Zion we will [see our experiences in exile] as having been dreamers."
The world of dreams is vaporous, unstable and totally limitless. We live in such a dream state, where we are so engrossed in our petty, trivial lives that we don’t even recognize we are in a dream. The seemingly real and vivid exile that we currently find ourselves in forms the backdrop of the dream, compelling us to believe that this is a definite actuality. Our dear Father yearns to rouse us out of the slumberous state, yet we are too absorbed to notice. Comes Chanukah and we illuminate the darkness of the world with the flicker of a candle. We shed light onto the true reality, briefly dispelling the falseness of our existence. The flickering flame is G-d communicating to us, urging us to awaken, to bid farewell to this exile and move on.
The main character of a riveting movie is in danger. As he ducks to avoid a fatal shot, you feel a surge of adrenaline, your fingers cross unbidden, and your mouth urgently forms a prayer of salvation. Sure, you are aware that the scene before you is staged, and that the fates of each character have been predetermined, yet you still hang off the edge of your seat, refusing to lose hope.
Each of our lives in exile is but an extensive movie, with each of us playing the main character. Recognizing this fact lends us great freedom and power. It grants us the awareness and the desire to pursue what truly matters in life, so that after 120 years, we can play back the reel in our minds and sit back relaxed and assured that the script has been followed to our exact liking.
Happy Chanukah!

This past Tuesday night I attended a very special and most unique wedding of Moishy Lew to Chavee Rosenblum. What made it so special was the fact that it was my wife’s brother’s wedding, but it was unique because my parents-in-law married off their fifteenth child, Moishy. The oldest sibling, Yossi, is 47 years old and is himself a father of ten kids as well as a grandfather. He was just twenty three when his baby brother was born. You can imagine taking the family picture at the wedding - it was a tremendous ordeal as we had to get over 130 immediate family members together!
This past Monday I was heading to my weekly Talmud class in Midtown. I have the subway schedule timed to the minute. That particular morning, as always, I left my office at exactly 11:08am feeling confident that I’d arrive at 11:29. But suddenly the train started to slow in between 68th and 59th Streets, until it eventually came to a complete stop. The conductor explained there were technical difficulties which were being resolved. Five minutes passed, then ten and I knew I was late.
This past Monday morning, a dear friend of mine managed to convince me to work out with him in Central Park. We began by circling the park reservoir- a light 1.6 miles. We then headed to the benches where we did forty pushups and forty dips. It has now been three days since those thirty minutes of exercise and I am still feeling extreme agony in muscles I hadn’t even known existed. In fact, it is even painful to be typing these words.