English Blog

Put Your Kids on a Leash!

Thursday, October 27, 2022 - 3:26 PM

I often walk up and down the streets of the Upper East Side with my kids, and we always get comments—especially with the triplets. On Shabbat mornings in particular, when I’m walking with 6 or 7 kids, all dressed up in their Shabbat outfits, I always get noticed. Lots of warm smiles and “G-d bless” or “What cute kids.” In fact, it’s rare to not get comments!

Recently we bought the triplets scooters, which we’ve been using on school days to get to and from school. I walk behind them and they scoot down the sidewalk. Of course, I give them strict rules about safety and not going too fast, but it’s still quite a scene! And boy, do the comments come.

This morning, however, a random New Yorker angrily yelled at me, “You should put them on a leash!!”

I was taken aback. Stunned.

“How could they possibly be bothering you?” I asked.

“They’re taking up space on the sidewalk!” he said.

You can be sure I gave him a piece of my mind. Abuse me all you want, but don’t start up with my kids!

But when I calmed down, I started to look for the lesson in this encounter. After all, we know everything that happens in our lives happens for a reason, and provides us a lesson in our service of G-d.

Apparently, G-d wanted me to hear those words: “Put them on a leash!” But why?

The truth is, when it comes to our Divine service, we all need to put ourselves on a leash. We cannot do what we want, when we want, how we want. We need to control our desires, our emotions, our behavior. We need to be leashed, so to speak!

We’re entering the month of Cheshvan, the one month of the year that contains no Jewish holidays. We don’t eat in the sukkah, dip apples in honey, listen to the shofar, fast for 25 hours, shake lulav and etrog or spend dozens of hours in shul.

It may be easy to think, “Great! The chagim are behind me, now I can do what I want, when I want, how I want.”

But here comes the message He wants us to hear: “Absolutely not! Put yourself on a leash.”

Those treif restaurants? Don’t go near them. That money you earned? Don’t wander off and spend it all, force yourself to give some to charity. That Saturday trip you had planned? Redirect and go to shul instead.

Stay focused, stay leashed. You got this.

“Can I have a croissant?”

Thursday, October 20, 2022 - 3:27 PM

A few weeks ago, I took my son to Patis Bakery. It was right before school and we had a few extra minutes, so I figured I’d take the opportunity to bond and share some special private time together. I got a coffee and my son asked for a croissant.

When the croissant arrived, it looked fresh and warm and flakey, so I asked my son for a taste. He said no, and I asked again if he could spare a small piece for me.

He proceeded to cut off not just a small piece, but a microscopic crumb—hardly even a crumb, to be honest! “Here, you can have a small piece and only a small piece,” he said.

I looked at him and thought to myself: Wow. I am the one driving him to school, taking him out for breakfast, and spending quality time with him. I’m the one who earned the money to buy the croissant, it’s my time, energy and everything here, and when I ask for a small piece of what is essentially mine, he begrudgingly spares me a microscopic crumb!

Of course I love my son and am thrilled he enjoyed the pastry. But the exchange got me thinking, and I realized there’s a broader lesson here that can be applied to our relationship with G-d.

G-d, our beloved Father in Heaven, loves us more than anything in the world. He gives us everything: the air we breathe, the food we eat, water, money, etc. Literally, everything that exists in our lives is from Him and He asks for so little in return. Just a small piece.

But when He asks, what do we give Him? A microscopic crumb? Or more?

We’ve just experienced an incredible and inspiring High Holiday season. We blew the shofar on Rosh Hashanah, fasted on Yom Kippur, spent seven magical days eating and rejoicing in the sukkah, and then danced for hours on Simchat Torah. A month-long bonding experience with our Father in Heaven.

Now it’s time to go forth into the new year, back to the daily grind, away from the constant infusion of spirituality. In fact, the upcoming month is the only one on the Jewish calendar with no holidays.

And yet, G-d asks us: Please, remember all this bonding we did over the holidays …

Remember how we danced with the Torah. Can you spare me a little Torah learning during the year?

Remember how we sat in shul all day on Yom Kippur. Can you spare me a few hours here and there and go to shul this year?

Remember how I blessed you financially this year. Please can you give 10 percent of your income to charity?

Remember on Rosh Hashanah when you asked me for blessings in all areas of your life and I gave it to you? Well, please spare me a few minutes throughout your year to light Shabbat candles, put on tefillin, and keep kosher.

So how will we respond? Will we begrudgingly offer Him a tiny crumb? Or will we give generously?

This Shabbat is the first Shabbat of the new year. Let’s start off on the right foot.

Shabbat Shalom

Rabbi Uriel Vigler

A Yom Kippur Crisis!

Thursday, October 13, 2022 - 5:39 PM

For the last 10 years, we’ve been blessed with a beautiful and large facility to use as our shul. Unfortunately, as I wrote previously, we lost that space during covid. So over the summer I made it my mission to find a space we could rent for the High Holidays.

I did some cursory internet research, but more specifically, I walked the streets of Manhattan looking for halls that may be a good fit. I tried schools, museums, and any other large space I could think of.

We made a spreadsheet with all the information: addresses, phone numbers of building managers and superintendents, capacity, availability and cost. One by one, we called every building in the area.

Unfortunately, most spaces were not available until December 2023 because they are still in covid mode.

One public school had a great hall and location, but when the superintendent looked at the date and saw it was a school holiday he adamantly refused. I offered to pay the workers. He said “it’s a union holiday.” I offered to pay them double. He said they don’t work on holidays. I offered to bring my own crew. He said it’s not allowed. I offered to tip him well and pay the workers triple. He said they don’t work on union holidays. I asked him to name his price, but he held firm.

After countless hours and numerous attempts, we finally found a space for Rosh Hashanah—the Liederkranz Club on 87th Street. With two caveats: it wasn’t available for Yom Kippur, and we were worried it may not be big enough for our crowd.

After all, Yom Kippur is the one day of the year Jews come to shul in droves. Especially now, after covid, when people are excited to be back!

We booked it for Rosh Hashanah and ultimately found a private school with a beautiful gym for Yom Kippur. We would’ve preferred to use the same location for both, but at this point we were just happy to have a space to work with! We listed the services on our website and people started signing up.

About two weeks before Rosh Hashanah, the school emailed us. “We have a small problem. The air conditioning in our gym is not working.” Small problem? For us this is a major problem! With Yom Kippur in October this year, we might be fine without, but with hundreds of people fasting I couldn’t take the chance.

Fortunately, I still had the spreadsheet we’d made in the summer, and I went back through it, calling everyone I’d already spoken to, to see if anything had changed. I received nothing but nos.

At this point, we were in full blown panic mode. Our website was still taking reservations, people were signing up, eager to be back after two years away from shul, and we had nowhere to put them!

So I did what I always do in times of crisis. I went to pray at the Ohel of the Lubavitcher Rebbe in Queens. I wrote down my problem and asked for a blessing that it would all work out.

I returned to my office but still nothing was working out. We tried to find someone to set up air conditioning in the gym for us, but no one was able to work with such a massive space.

Eventually, we called Liederkranz back and asked about their Yom Kippur availability, and lo and behold—they were available! Whoever was supposed to use it over Yom Kippur didn’t book in the end.

I was still worried it may be too small for our Yom Kippur crowd, but we went ahead and booked it, relieved to have a space at all!

Rosh Hashanah came and services were superb. Then Yom Kippur came, and it ended up being a perfect fit! We were able to seat a lot more people than I had imagined. And being a music hall, the acoustics were fabulous which really added to the atmosphere—something we wouldn’t have had at the other hall!

When I was searching, this seemed like an insurmountable challenge. I was consumed. I couldn’t see any possible solution. Now, in hindsight, what we ended up with was the best possible space for our needs. Everything ran smoothly and everybody left uplifted.

The message I came away with is: always trust in Hashem. Put your faith in Him, and He will work things out in the best way possible, even if it doesn’t seem that way at first. A good reminder for all challenges, large and small.

Our Children Need Love

Thursday, October 6, 2022 - 4:37 PM

Over the summer we spent time upstate, and one Shabbat was particularly hot. Blistering. We had already walked to and from shul in the sweltering heat, so when my son asked to go and play with a friend, I had no strength to get up and go marching again. He begged and begged, so I told him maybe in a few hours.

He asked if he could go by himself, but I told him he was not allowed.

I went for a short nap and when I woke up, I realized he was missing. I figured he must have gone to his friend’s house for a play date on his own, even though I’d told him not to.

On my way to Mincha, I stopped at the friend’s house, and of course my son was there playing with a group of his friends.

I called him over and sternly reprimanded him for defying a direct order.

Yes, it worked out fine. It was a safe neighborhood, and he knew the way. But I told him not to go, and he went anyway.

And then I chatted with the parents of my son’s friend (who are friends of mine) while he went back to his friends.

Shortly before Rosh Hashanah I happened to bump into these friends again, and they reminded me about the incident. They said they couldn’t believe my son didn’t get into serious trouble. They asked their son to check, and were shocked he wasn’t grounded, punished, or had his toys taken away. Nothing beyond the initial severe reprimand. They were bowled away and inspired.

The truth is, the one thing our children need more than anything else is love, love, and more love. It’s critical. And not just children. It’s what we all need!

We just finished a beautiful and inspiring Yom Kippur. Yom Kippur is all about G-d forgiving us for our wrongdoings and starting over with a clean slate.

Did we sin? Yes. Are we perfect? Of course not. But G-d loves us more than anything. He treasures each of us like an only child. He knows what we did and He forgives us, with no residual punishments. And then He goes on loving us.

Next week we celebrate Sukkot. When we sit in the Sukkah, surrounded on all four sides, it’s like a giant hug from G-d.

Let’s do the same for our children!