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You’ve tried hard to make our lives miserable. 

First, you forced us to stop greeting each other with handshakes, hugs, kisses and even fist bumps, and you know how much we absolutely love greeting one another.

Then you forced us to cancel (or minimize) our Purim celebrations, knowing full well how much joy and exuberance Purim brings us.

You’ve forced us to cancel our Pesach plans, (which we’ve already put so much money into,) a time when we usually gather with our extended families and friends for an infusion of joy that lasts well into the rest of the year.

You forced us to cancel all travel and most day-to-day outings and isolate ourselves at home.  

You even precluded us from attending weddings, engagements, bar and bat mitzvahs and other celebrations, and you know how much we love to celebrate and say l’chaim!

But this week, you took it too far. You forced us to close our shuls—G-d’s home! This is the center of our Judaism and the place we communicate with G-d. It’s where we set ourselves aside and focus solely on Him. I cannot remember a single Shabbat in my life that I intentionally stayed home from shul. Having to send out the message to my congregation that there will be no shul, cholent, or Kiddush for the foreseeable future broke my heart.

But let me tell you, Satan, you failed miserably at your mission. Instead of separating us, your social distancing has brought us so much closer together. In our isolation, we have increased our concern for one another. Through social media, our Torah classes are reaching larger and more attuned audiences than ever. 

Our hearts are filled with love for one another; our spirit can never be broken. Our souls are fired up.

So now, it’s time to acknowledge that you have failed miserably. We will appeal to your boss, our dear Father in Heaven, to fire you. You’ve tried hard, I’ll give you that, but success is out of reach. It’s time to call it quits, end this plague and tell your boss to send Moshiach, as we have certainly earned.

This week, when we read the parshah at home alone, without our Torah scrolls, we will read about the mitzvah to build the Mishkan, a sanctuary for G-d. We may not be in our shuls, our sanctuaries, but we have built sanctuaries in our hearts with a light that can never be extinguished.

You lose, Satan, you lose. We are the eternal winners.

I know we’re at war because the entire world is in a state of elevated panic and anxiety.

I know we’re at war because dozens of airports and airlines across the world have shuttered.

I know we’re at war because the stock market is wildly fluctuating, dipping frighteningly.

I know we’re at war because my kids’ schools (and many others) have all been cancelled indefinitely.

I know we’re at war because streets and subways are empty.

I know we’re at war because people are quarantined at home.

But for the first time in history of wars… I cannot see, touch, feel, smell, hear, or taste my enemy. All I know is its name: Coronavirus. It’s a brand new kind of war.

I don’t know who my enemy is, so I will endeavor to remain six feet away from every human being on the planet, just in case.

I don’t know where my enemy is, so I will stay away from every institution just in case.

I don’t know when my enemy will attack, so I must remain alert at all times.

I don’t know what my enemy is, so I’ll make sure to wash my hands obsessively at every opportunity.

I don’t understand why this enemy is attacking, so I’ll beseech G-d to vanquish this invisible monster.

But as new as this war is, it’s actually a war as old as time.

As Jews, we’ve been engaged in this kind of war since the dawn of civilization. You see, we are in perpetual battle with the forces of evil; another enemy we cannot see, touch, feel, smell, hear, or taste. We know only its name: the yetzer hara, the evil inclination.

We don’t know who the enemy is, so we try to make sure that our own immediate 6 feet surrounding is a place of holiness and purity.

We don’t know where that enemy is either, so we hang out in shul to pray and study Torah where we know we will be safe.

We don’t know when the enemy will attack, so we remain on high alert all day, starting with morning prayers, ending with the evening Shema.

We don’t know what this enemy is, so we make sure to wash our hands obsessively when we wake up in the morning, before eating bread, and after using the restroom.

And certainly, we can’t understand why the enemy strikes, so we pray devotedly to G-d, beseeching him to remove all evil from the world and bring Moshiach.

So let’s fight both wars simultaneously!

Let’s check in on the vulnerable and isolated. If you have elderly friends, relatives, or neighbors (or people who are otherwise isolated and susceptible), please check in on them. Offer to do their grocery and pharmacy shopping, or to drive them to appointments for which they would otherwise rely on public transport. Think creatively.  

And let us pray to our dear Father in heaven for all those who are suffering from Coronavirus and other illnesses. May we know only health and healing.

This week I spent a few days on safari in Africa. As one who was born in Zimbabwe and grew up in South Africa, most of my childhood vacations were centered around animals and I wanted my children to share my love for that experience. 

We were able to get up close and personal with the lions, patting and interacting with them. I had to ask the guard multiple times if it was safe and he reassured me again and again that it was. But I was still scared, especially when I noticed we had to sign waivers taking responsibility for ourselves in case anything happened. 

What convinced me to go ahead and enter the den was the size of our group. With 10 people and two lions, I figured that although I obviously couldn’t outrun the lions, I could probably outrun the other people!

In the middle, our guide quipped, “Ok, who wants to run to the gate?” and explained that when interacting with lions (and most other wild animals), it is paramount that you show absolutely no fear. Running would be a terrible mistake. Lions are predators, and as soon as they sense your fear they will rip you to pieces. 

We were given the same warning when we interacted with the baboons and elephants. Hide your fear. Temper your tone of voice, your gaze, and the way you stand. These animals are stronger and faster than we are. But if you are confident, you will be fine. 

It made me think of the Purim megillah, which we’ll be reading this Monday night and Tuesday. The Jews had a formidable and ruthless enemy. Haman. How did Mordechai react? He refused to bow down. He stood confidently as a Jew and inspired the rest of the nation to do the same. We cannot show fear to our anti-Semitic opponents. 

The Code of Jewish Law tells us the same thing: Wake up every morning like a lion to serve G-d. Go and pray and put on tefillin and study Torah. Don’t give in to your evil inclination. Be strong. Be proud. Be recognizable. 

Wherever we go, it should be recognizable that we are Jewish. Every person who comes into contact with you should know that you are honest and kind. In fact, the Talmud tells us that the first question we are asked upon our arrival in the Heavenly court is “Were you honest in business?”

Don’t be embarrassed to put on tefillin in public or make known that you only eat kosher food. Don’t be afraid to close your business for Shabbat and holidays. Hashem will provide. You will be surprised how understanding your partners and co-workers will be. 

It’s imperative that we stand confident and proud in our Jewish identity and observance. That is the strongest safety net we can build. 

Of all the crazy things my wife and I have done, flying with our triplets (and 5 others!) on a 15-hour flight must rank in the top two! 

Just getting from our home to JFK, with all our luggage and car seats, seemed insurmountable. So we kept pushing off the trip to see my family in South Africa. But now my sister is celebrating the bar mitzvah of her son, so we decided to take the plunge. And what a plunge it was!

The planning was endless; the logistics mind-boggling. Packing enough toys, books, food, iPads, diapers, and changes of clothes for so many kids (five of them are under age six!) was endless. But it paid off ... for the first four hours, that is! 

Each kid had their own backpack with their nosh, toys, arts and crafts, and electronic devices. But after 4 hours they were way past their regular nap time, and crankiness set in, in full force. 

The human being only has two hands, and with two parents and three babies we were one set short. With limited space, multiple other children with needs of their own, and a full audience of travelers… let me just say, it was stressful. Unlike anything we’ve ever done before. 

To my fellow passengers: I apologize for disturbing your sleep. I apologize for the kvetching, the crying, and yes, the shrieking. One lady sitting right behind us fell asleep with her fingers in her ears trying to block the noise! And I apologize to the passengers in front of me who had to endure my kids pushing their seats. 

I apologize to the wonderful crew who had to tell me dozens of times to sit down when I was walking back and forth trying to put another kid to sleep. When we boarded the plane the entire crew greeted us warmly telling us how cute and adorable our triplets were. When we exited the plane well let's just say they were ecstatic.

When I felt I could no longer manage, I looked at the flight map to see how much time we had remaining, and I saw we still had seven hours to go. That’s a full trip from NY to London!

Thank G-d, we somehow made it, and felt it well worth the effort to celebrate with our family. 

Wish us luck for the way back!

But the lesson is simple. As every parent knows, kids need structure and routine. When that gets disrupted, they don’t do well. 

The same applies to every Jew. Our souls crave routine, and as soon as we deprive ourselves of that, we suffer. What is our routine? A Jew needs to wake up every morning, and pray. Take that away, and the soul goes haywire. A Jew needs to study Torah every day. Disrupt that, and you have spiritual havoc. A Jew needs to stop working and disconnect from technology on Shabbat. Interfere with that, and you’re in dangerous territory. 

Fifteen hours may not be long for an adult, but for babies it is endless. Likewise, our time on this earth may feel endless to us, but in the scheme of things, it is brief, and we’ve been given all the guidance we need to stay on track: Torah and mitzvot.

G-d has gifted us with structure; it’s up to us to stick to it. 

Dear Esteemed Mayor of Tel Aviv, Ron Huldai,

As I took the NYC subway this week, I noticed multiple people wearing masks, presumably in response to the coronavirus, and I thought to myself, “I should get one of those too!”

By now scientists are pretty sure the coronavirus originated with a single person who ate pangolin meat in Wuhan, China. Currently, 60,000 people are infected and 1,370 have died. 

Think about it: One individual, whose name we do not know, in a province in China that most of us had never heard of, eats meat from the pangolin—a mammal that is also unfamiliar to most of us—creating mass hysteria and a new disease termed COVID-19 with which we are ALL now very familiar. 

The actions of this single person have rippled across the entire world, creating massive waves of fear and panic. In Japan, 3000 people are stuck on a cruise, forced to spend 23 hours per day inside their rooms. Tens of thousands are stuck in makeshift hospitals in China without adequate medical care. Millions are afraid to travel by airplane, and dozens of countries have limited or entirely refused to accept flights originating from China. Almost every country in the world is feeling the impact. The coronavirus has already caused billions of dollars in damage and has the potential to reach trillions. 

Our sages teach that the power of goodness and kindness is infinitely stronger than the power of evil. “A little light dispels much darkness” is not merely an adage, it is the starting point from which we can transform the entire world. 

And so, I ask you: 

If one anonymous individual eating pangolin meat can unintentionally cause so much fear and panic across the world, can you imagine how much intentional love you and I can spread across the world by doing one mitzvah—eating kosher meat?

Just like patient zero in Wuhan, nobody knows our names and nobody sees us doing the mitzvot, but we can still have a massive effect on the rest of the world. Our mitzvot—eating kosher meat, or anything else—spread out into the world creating ripple effects whose end result we ourselves may never know.   

The coronavirus may be an invisible monster, but our sages tell us that when we do mitzvot, we create invisible angels that fan out across the universe. So let’s get out there and start infecting the world with goodness and kindness. There is no place for quarantine here!

I recently noticed that whenever our triplets walk from the bedroom to the hallway they make sure to step over the threshold. Never on it. And once I noticed, I couldn’t un-notice it! It’s cute the way they avoid it, but I felt compelled to find out why.

I watched them toddle through every other doorway in the house with no qualms. It was only this particular threshold that they painstakingly avoided. But this week, I finally discovered the reason: residual fear!

A few months ago, there was a tiny nail sticking out of the floor right in that spot, which we discovered when they stepped on it and hurt themselves. That doorway now instinctively reminds them of that experience, and they automatically step over it.

Even when I try to coax them to step on the floor there, knowing the nail is long gone and they will not hurt themselves, they still avoid it. It’s a reminder of the past they cannot yet overcome.

It made me think of this week’s Torah portion, when the Jews find themselves facing the Red Sea after G-d virtually decimated their Egyptian captors with the 10 plagues. Finally free, they now found their path forward blocked by the Red Sea, with the Egyptians hot on their tail. They were trapped and afraid, divided as to how to proceed. Some wanted to die by drowning in the sea, some others preferred to return to Egypt in surrender. Still others wanted to try to fight the Egyptians, while another group felt they should drop everything and pray for Divine salvation.

To all these groups, G-d said, “Move forward!” Don’t give up, don’t be distracted by a fight, and don’t return to Egypt; just march ahead.

And that’s something we can all apply to our own lives anytime we’re afraid (which is pretty often for most of us!). Perhaps we’re afraid of committing to marriage, jumping into a new job, opening a business, having another child, taking on a religious commitment… It’s normal to feel afraid, and almost always the fear is based on a prior negative experience that is imprinted on our psyche and tries to prevent us from forging ahead.

But that’s exactly what G-d wants us to do. Go! Overcome your fears. March forward. Push past those negative experiences and take a chance. Commit. You’ll be surprised to see just how much you can accomplish when you learn to let go of the fear. 

I’ve officiated many funerals and given numerous eulogies in my time as rabbi, but it’s different when it’s a good friend. And looking around the packed room this week at Charles’s funeral, it struck me that everyone there considered Charles a close friend; he had that unique ability to reach out and connect with each person intimately. 

An infant comes into this world with its fists clenched, signifying its intent to conquer the world, explains the Talmud. When we pass, however, our hands are open, showing that we can take none of the power, riches, or fame into the next world. Only the good deeds we performed during our lifetime accompany us, and Charles had no shortage of those.

He joined our shul as a founding member 15 years ago, and as long as he was in the city he never missed a Shabbat. In fact, he beat me to shul every week, and before we began services he would stand before the ark and have his own private moment of deep connection with G-d.

Every week he brought a bottle or two of scotch for the kiddush. He never arrived empty-handed. Even after he had been diagnosed with the disease that ultimately took his life, he kept coming to shul, scotch in hand, making sure we finished at exactly 11:30am. When we finished on time or ran a few minutes early, we were rewarded with his beaming smile. When we didn’t, he would point to his watch and give me “the look.” Since he was such a devoted member, I did my best to stick to the timeline!

Charles was the one who looked out for others and made sure everyone felt comfortable. One Friday night the conversation was going on in Hebrew, but Charles turned around and noticed that there was a congregant present who does not speak or understand Hebrew, and he immediately switched to English. I later heard from that person just how good it made him feel. This was Charles - always conscious of others, making sure no one felt excluded or uncomfortable.

And he cared deeply for our shul. Before the High Holidays, year after year, he would let me know he’d had all the talleisim cleaned and hired a professional cleaner to come in and take care of our carpets. Anyone else would hand me a check and say, “Here, rabbi, you get it done,” but Charles wasn’t like that. He rolled up his sleeves and got to work himself.

Years ago, I walked into shul on Shabbat mevarchim and told Charles I was a few minutes late because I had recited the entire book of Tehillim per Chabad custom, which takes over two hours. “Oh,” he exclaimed. “I read the entire Tehillim every Shabbat morning!”

Charles was rushed to the hospital on Simchat Torah this year, and just two nights prior, on Hoshana Raba, he asked me what he needs to recite. I explained that it’s traditional to say the entire book of Devarim as well as the whole Tehillim. I was shocked the next day when he casually informed me that it had taken him six hours, but he’d said all of it!

Charles was someone who loved life. He loved people. He loved their company. He loved living. He loved his family. He was deeply devoted to his wife Gili and their children Jade, Brittany, and Courtney, may they find comfort in due time.

My dear friend Charles, as you move on to the next world, may the kindness and warm feelings you generated here in this world, accompany you, and may all the mitzvot you did stand you in good stead. We will miss you deeply, but we take comfort in knowing that the heavenly court is welcoming you with open arms.

Last week we hired a moving company to pack us up and move our Chabad center to its new location. As thrilling as the prospect of a new and larger space was, I found the experience bittersweet.

I knew we had to move. We had long outgrown our previous space, and would now have nearly double the capacity. For years we had been turning away families we will now be able to accommodate. I’d been working in an office that didn’t even have space for a second chair for meetings. So this move was long overdue, and we’d been able to design the new space to our specifications. We are moving onwards and upwards; this was the sweetness.

But there was also a tinge of sadness as we said goodbye to the space that had housed us for 12 wonderful years. It was painful to watch the movers packing up 12 years of memories. We met so many people here, accomplished so much. So many meetings, so many celebrations, so many mitzvot, so many Jewish families. The space served us well for many years.

So it was with mixed emotions that I watched the movers pack it all up.

It’s easy to become comfortable and attached to the familiar, even when better things await.

After 210 years of slavery in Egypt, it was time for the Jews to leave. Moses repeatedly asks Pharaoh to let them go. He doesn’t ask for freedom; he asks for three days in the desert. Common belief is that he thought Pharaoh couldn’t handle the thought of true freedom, but the real reason Moses asked for three days was for the Jews. He knew it would be difficult for them to leave Egypt. They had been slaves, exhausted and brutalized, but still there was comfort in the familiarity, and Moses knew that. Even though he told them they would only be leaving for three days, 80% of the Jews refused to go along!

This is the story of our lives. It’s normal. We get comfortable where we are. But we cannot stay in our comfort zones. We need to push ourselves ahead, as difficult as it may be. Think about your life and where you can push through. If you’re comfortable davening once a day, try adding a second tefillah. If you’re comfortable with the amount of tzeddakah you’re currently giving, push yourself to give a bit more. If you only wear your kippah in certain environments, push yourself to wear it in places that may feel less comfortable. If you usually only keep kosher in the home, try keeping it outside too.

Every day is moving day when it comes to our spiritual lives.

This is also what Moshiach is all about. The thought of leaving our current lives and reaching for Redemption may feel uncomfortable, but we need to embrace the move and prepare for it imminently.

Two weeks ago my friend Yankel*, who’s had a rough year, gave me a call. Yankel is a lawyer and for some reason 2019 was a hard year for him financially. He asked to meet with me on December 31st, and imagine my surprise when he presented me with a check for $1800! I was stunned. I knew that was a huge amount of money for him. I’ve known him for long enough to know how generous he is, but I also knew it had been a challenging year for him monetarily, so how or why was he donating $1800?! 

He explained that he had been listening when I talked about tzedakah in my High Holiday sermon. I mentioned that everyone is obligated to give something, regardless of their financial situation. Young, old, rich, poor… no one is exempt. And it led him to wonder how he could give. 

I was definitely pleased and touched that at least one person listened to my sermon and was even moved to do something practical!  

So how did he pull it off?

Yankel loves his coffee. Any coffee lover knows how important that caffeine is for your day! I mean, I love my morning coffee, too. But Yankel does not drink just any coffee: he relishes the fresh coffee he buys from his favorite coffee shop in Brooklyn for $5.50 every day.

So he made a calculation. Let me sacrifice my coffee in order to fulfill the mitzvah of tzedakah. 

And he did.

Instead of the delicious store-bought coffee, he has been drinking instant coffee in his office. It doesn’t taste the same, but the joy he received when he was able to give that charity tasted better than any $5.50 coffee ever could. 

Moreover, when he told his wife Rochel* what he was doing, she joined him in his effort and together they saved $11 per day, leading them to present me with the $1800 check on December 31st!

I was absolutely speechless. Not only did he listen to my sermon and take it to heart, he sacrificed every single day to fulfill this important mitzvah. It’s incredible. 

In Kabalistic terminology, this is known as “iskafya.” Iskafya is the term we use when a person sacrifices for a mitzvah. It’s the term we use when someone stretches beyond the norm, beyond the regular, to do a mitzvah. Exactly what my friend Yankel did.

Chassidism teaches that when a person has iskafya, it draws G-d’s Divine presence down into this world. It is the most powerful expression a person can do.

So my message to Yankel is, thank you! In the merit of his tremendous sacrifice, I wish him and his wife good health, success, nachas from their family, and financial freedom in 2020 and beyond. 

*Names changed to protect privacy.

 Almost two years ago, on February 14, 2018, I received a notice that we had 30 days to vacate our Chabad center. We had been occupying our Chabad center for 10 years, where we had established a thriving Chabad center and preschool. The eviction notice caught me entirely by surprise and I consulted with lawyers as to our options.

It soon became apparent that this was the work of a disgruntled neighbor who disliked children and had used every opportunity to undermine us from day one. As the saying goes, “Every good rabbi must have an enemy combatant,” and we certainly had ours.

There is nothing in this world that is not Divinely ordained. Everything comes from G-d, even an eviction notice from a disgruntled neighbor.

And so I asked myself, what does G-d want?

Now, although we had established a thriving preschool, we had also run out of space. Every year we had to turn away many families whom we simply could not accommodate. And every year we’d been telling ourselves we need to move, but with Manhattan prices and the dearth of available spaces, finding a place was next to impossible. In fact, I wasn’t even sure which was harder—finding the money or finding an appropriate space! Neither seemed doable.

But when this eviction notice and subsequent lawsuit came, we had to take a closer look and ask ourselves what G-d really wants. And it was clear that the time had come to search aggressively.

So I called our trusted broker, and told her we need to find something ASAP. And guess what? We started re-examining spaces that we would have dismissed previously. We eventually found a place that had issues, but could work. Had we not been facing a pending lawsuit, we would have never negotiated so aggressively, and we most certainly would not have signed the deal.

It took us 10 months to locate a space and negotiate the lease, and another 14 months to do the construction and receive the permits. Thank G-d we were blessed with incredible friends—architects, lawyers, expeditors, and contractors. And through it all we’ve been in court, negotiating.

But not for one second did we think that this was anything but the work of G-d. Even when we were forced to make tough decisions and compromises, we knew it was all from G-d. His messengers come in mysterious ways!

Was the lawsuit a bother? Absolutely! Was it a pain in the neck? For sure. Was it a headache? An aggravation? Most definitely. But there is also no way we would have pushed ourselves so hard to work through this exhausting process to find a new space had we not been forced.

And the result? Well, it’s been two years and we have finally received our final permits. It’s brand new, state of the art, and built exactly the way we wanted. Best of all, it’s double the size we had until now, which means we can accommodate so many families we previously had to turn away.

We look forward to sharing many occasions and blessings in our new facility, at 1766 2nd Ave.

It has become blatantly obvious that we are witnessing a full-fledged epidemic of Anti-Semitic attacks. In the last week alone, there has been at least one incident each day. For the first time in modern US history, Jews are afraid to shop at kosher stores, afraid to go to shul, afraid to send their kids to Jewish schools. Simply walking around dressed Jewishly is making people uneasy, cautious, and frightened.

David Ben Gurion said, “It doesn’t matter what the non-Jews say, it matters what the Jews do.”

So, what will we do? How will we respond?

 Yes, we need to demand apologies, sign petitions, and organize protests. We need to insist on a sustained, get-tough, zero-tolerance policy by local and state officials. We need a policy that takes each incident equally seriously. Anti-Semitism is anti-Semitism, and should not be tolerated, no matter who the perpetrator is.

But what else can we do to combat this toxic undercurrent seeping through society?

First, we need to understand and recognize the root cause of the hatred.

We know they don’t hate us because we’re successful; Jews have been persecuted back in the shtetls when they had nothing at all. They don’t hate us for being poor, because wealthy Jews have never been exempt.

They don’t hate us because we established the State of Israel; Hitler killed 6 million of us before that ever happened. There is nothing we can point to and say, “That’s why! That’s why they hate us. If we fix or change that, there’ll be no more anti-Semitism.”

Anti-Semitism is irrational. It’s a hatred that has always existed, and will continue as long as we remain in exile. There is no reason. It simply is.

So what should we do in the face of the current crisis? How can we combat the hatred staring us down?

 As counterintuitive as it might seem, by being prouder Jews!

They hate us? They hate Judaism? Well, let’s examine our own love for it. Do we feel it with a fiery passion? How can we reignite that, instill it in our children, awaken it in our friends, and show it off proudly?

By increasing our Jewish engagement.

Commit to putting on tefillin daily, and when you say Shema, remind yourself of your eternal and everlasting link to your ancestors, all the way back to Abraham. Picture the unbroken chain connecting you; it’s powerful!

Commit to lighting Shabbat candles every single week, and when you do, picture the light dispelling evil and hatred from the world. A small amount of light dispels great darkness. You may not see the significance of your two candles, but they are powerful!

Log on to Chabad.org and study Torah. Educate yourself and your children, reignite that passion and love for G-d and His Torah.

We have to be a light unto the nations. We have to inspire each other to be strong in our Jewish observance and proud of our identity. We cannot cower and hide away in fear. We must stand strong, proud, and united; it is the only way to fight the current upsurge in anti-Semitism.

It’s hard to see in the moment, when we’re consumed by the constant churning of events. But now that it’s over, we can step out, look back, and analyze what really happened in the past 10 years.

There are two ways to look at it: From our own perspective, and through G-d’s lens.

From our view, a lot has gone on. There have been massive milestones and terrible catastrophes. Technology has accelerated beyond what we could have imagined. In 2010 Uber and Instagram launched, and it’s now hard to remember a time before they existed. Islamic State leaders Osama Bin Laden and Abu Bakr el Baghdadi were killed. The World population reached 7 billion people.

We’ve also struggled through devastating earthquakes and hurricanes, and the disappearance of Malaysian Airlines flight MH370. There have been far too many devastating mass shootings and terror attacks, including Sandy Hook elementary, Stoneman Douglas in Parkland, Florida, Charlie Hedbo in Paris, the Boston Marathon, Orlando, Las Vegas, Chabad of Poway, the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh, and the shooting in Jersey City last week.

Although it seems terrible and chaotic to us, from G-d’s perspective things look very different. There is a plan, a Boss, and reason for every event.

Of course, there were times that we clearly saw G-d’s intervention. Like when 12 young boys and their soccer coach were rescued from the cave in Thailand after being stuck for two weeks, or when two 16-year old students went missing in thick forest terrain in Florida, and were found safely the next day. Or for me personally, when my triplets were born, or when the entire Jewish world celebrated the bar mitzvah of Moishy Holzberg who survived the 2008 Mumbai attacks.

But from G-d’s perspective, all the other happenings—the ones we can’t understand—are connected, deliberate, and ultimately good.  

We don’t see it, but to G-d there are clear connections between Occupy Wall Street and the Pokemon Go craze; the murder of Eyal, Gilad and Naftali who were kidnapped in Israel in 2014, and the Arab Spring that sprung up across the Middle East; the election of Donald Trump and the ALS Ice Bucket challenge; the royal wedding and the world’s obsession with the gorilla Harambe…

So, when will we see the connection? When will we finally have the clarity to connect the dots and understand these events for what they really are? When will we look back at the dark and confusing moments and recognize G-d’s presence and purpose?

When the Baal Shem Tov asked Moshiach, “When are you coming?” he replied, “When your well springs shall be disseminated.” Over the past decade we have created unprecedented levels of access to Jewish learning. Chabad.org, WhatsApp, TorahCafe, and so many other sites are replete with free Jewich classes on virtually every subject.

So we are getting closer.

And when that time comes, we will be able to connect the dots and see how this was truly the Master Plan, even though it may not seem that way now.

This decade has brought us so much closer to the coming of Moshiach; without doubt, it has been the greatest 10 years in human history.