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Can I Please Have A Dollar?

Thursday, June 30, 2022 - 4:30 PM

Last week, the doorbell rang at our Chabad house. It was late afternoon and camp was already done for the day, so I went out to see who was there.

A guy introduced himself, explained he had fallen on hard times, and said he needed a dollar because he was hungry.

“You need a dollar to buy food?” I clarified.

“Yes, please give me a dollar,” he said.

Well, knowing how much (or how little) a dollar can get you, I figured I’d do better.

Every day we order delicious and nourishing lunch for the camp children from a local restaurant. I went into the kitchen and saw that there were some nice leftovers. I put together a meal in a beautiful container, included some cutlery, and went back outside to give it to the man.

I handed him the meal and wished him bon appétite.

He looked at me and said, “I asked for a dollar.”

“You asked for a dollar to buy food,” I said. “Here’s much more than a dollar’s worth of food.”

He said “No, thank you,” and returned the meal to me.

The Baal Shem Tov, founder of chassidus, taught that every encounter and every occurrence provides us with a lesson. What was the lesson here, I wondered? I thought I’d done the right thing — done more than he’d asked — and yet I’d been summarily rejected.

While I may not agree with his choices, I can admire his temerity and determination. He wanted that dollar and wasn’t willing to be deterred by any other offers, good as they may have been.

This weekend, we mark the 28th yahrzeit of the Lubavitcher Rebbe. It’s been 28 years since our dear, beloved Rebbe was with us physically. Together with tens of thousands of other people, I will be going to pray at his resting place, waiting in line for hours to submit my request.

We all have so many requests — for ourselves, our families, our friends, our communities, and the world as a whole. But one stands above the rest: Moshiach.

We demand, we cry, we beg for G-d to send us Moshiach and the Final Redemption. All too often, G-d comes back with a counter offer. No Moshiach (yet), but here’s a good business deal to keep you happy in the meantime. No Moshiach (yet), but here’s the apartment you wanted.

We need to stand firm. No more counter offers. Just Moshiach. Now. Please.

Did You Lose An Apple Watch?

Thursday, June 16, 2022 - 5:59 PM

A few weeks ago we held a beautiful Hachnasat Sefer Torah to honor the new Torah scroll being dedicated to our shul. Hundreds of people came out to celebrate, starting at our home where the final letters were written, and continuing with a parade and dancing at the shul.

When I came back home after the all-day affair, I found an Apple watch that had been left behind. I put it aside, figuring the owner would quickly realize and contact me. I tried examining it for any identification, but there was none.

So I waited for the call.

But the next day no one called, nor the day after or the day after that!

How strange. Why hadn’t the owner called me? I couldn’t understand it.

I looked back at pictures of the event, trying to figure out who could have left it. Before the parade, hundreds of people flowed through our home to drink a l’chaim and write a letter in the Torah. I asked them all to put on tefillin with me, to add to the mitzvah of the day, which helped narrow the field: it was most likely a male who had taken off his watch to put on tefillin.

I scoured the pictures for anyone who had put on tefillin and started calling around, asking if they were missing a watch. But everyone I spoke to said no, it wasn’t theirs.

I became obsessed with the hunt.

And just then, I began studying Talmud with my 10-year-old. Interestingly, the first topic any child learns is the second chapter of Bava Metziah, which deals with hashavat aveida - the mitzvah of returning lost objects. The Talmud delves into different scenarios, including times when you can assume that the owner has despaired of ever finding the article and you can therefore keep it.

Based on my knowledge of this watch, it was certainly not something that the owner had despaired of finding!

I was determined to find the owner because it could not be that by doing a mitzvah (putting on tefillin) he would lose his expensive watch.

I posted on social media and texted everyone I could think of, “Did anyone lose their Apple watch?” but nothing! No response. Nada.

I was perplexed.

Then this past Sunday, after services, I began saying a dvar Torah addressing the concept of lost items, and I mentioned having found a watch. Immediately, Adrian came over and told me he’d lost his watch 30 days ago; is it the one I found? I asked him to tell me the colors and he easily identified it.

Turns out, Adrian is not on social media. But he had been searching high and low for his Apple watch! He couldn’t remember where he'd misplaced it, but he’d spent a lot of money on it, and had been desperately looking anywhere he could think of—his entire house, his car, workplace, outside, etc. He was literally on the verge of despair and now, boom! He’d found it. He was ecstatic, as was I!

There are three things that come unexpectedly, says the Talmud. Moshiach, a lost object, and a scorpion.

As Jews, we are all “lost” in a sense. Our souls are divine, spiritual entities lost in the physical, mundane world—the daily grind. We go from our coffee to the office and back again. Totally lost. But when Moshiach comes, we’ll all be found and returned. Our focus will shift to enjoying Divine spiritual pursuits and we will have no distractions from what really matters. And it will come when we least expect it!

Let’s hope Moshiach comes now and bring us all home!

Shabbat Shalom

Rabbi Uriel Vigler

“Did Your Father Do to You What You’re Doing to Your Son?"

Thursday, June 9, 2022 - 6:24 PM

On Shavuot I was walking to shul with my sons. It’s not far from our house and I cherish the time together. The older one was riding his rib stick (since it was Yom Tov, when that is permitted), and my 10-year-old was walking next to me.

Out of nowhere, I heard someone screaming at me, “Did your father do to you what you are doing to your son?” Thinking I hadn’t heard correctly, I turned around to look at him, and saw the anger on his face as he repeated the question, “Did your father do to you what you are doing to your son?”

I was shocked and bewildered. What had I done? I was walking to shul with my son, telling him a story about King David, literally in my own world. What could I possibly have done to anger this man? I wasn’t blocking the sidewalk. I wasn’t letting my son run wild and bump into other people. We weren’t walking in the street. I wasn’t in his way. I was holding my son’s hand, walking calmly, engrossed in conversation.

The only explanation I could come up with was the fact that I was dressed as a religious Jew, with my hat, jacket, and beard, and my son was wearing his kippah and tzitzit. I guess he was concerned that I was instilling religious fanaticism and brainwashing my child. So I responded proudly, “Yes! My father did to me what I am doing to my son,” which annoyed him even more.

After I calmed down, I was able to pivot and even feel excited for this man. He looked Jewish, and who else would react so strongly to seeing an Orthodox Jew? The fact that he was so enraged indicates that he has a G-dly soul inside him, and it’s on fire, desperately yearning to connect.

If his soul was dead or cold, he would have simply ignored me and kept walking. But seeing me affected him deeply. His soul was screaming out, “Help me!”

Every Jew has a soul, which is a piece of G-d. Sometimes it’s buried so deep inside us, it takes a Jew walking down the street telling his son a story about King David to trigger our awareness.

In fact, there was a young European woman passing by whose soul was also triggered by this encounter. She saw what happened and yelled at the man, “Stop bothering him! Mind your own business!” I thanked her for standing up for me, and we got into a conversation. It turned out she, too, is Jewish.

The irony of this encounter happening on the holiday of Shavuot was not lost on me. When G-d wanted to give the Torah to the Jews, he asked them, “Who will be your guarantors?” The Jews tried to say Abraham or Isaac or Jacob, but G-d rejected these offers. Finally, they offered their children as guarantors, and G-d was satisfied.

So yes, I am proud that my father taught me the Torah and the Jewish way of life, just as his father taught him. And I will continue to teach my children, doing to them exactly what my father did to me.

Shabbat Shalom

Rabbi Uriel Vigler

‘Hey Rabbi … You Forgot Your Child!’

Thursday, June 2, 2022 - 1:27 PM

This morning my wife needed me to take our triplets to school. No sweat, I figured. I got this! So she dressed them, fed them, and got them all ready, and when it came time to walk them the 8 blocks to school they went outside, stood on the steps, and demanded that I drive them.

I explained that the car wasn’t available (Shevy needed it to go to a school play for the older kids), but they were having none of it. They refused to budge. I tried to coax and even bribe them, but when the three of them gang up together it’s tough going!

Finally, I resorted to telling them, “Listen, I’m going to school and you can decide if you want to come with me. Otherwise you can stay home all day.” I counted to three and started walking.

Well, that got Avigayil moving! She decided she could handle the walk. A few steps later, Dovid joined us too. But as I continued walking, I noticed that Yehuda still hadn’t left the front steps.

I went back and tried to coax him again, but he was adamant. Car or no dice! So I counted to three again and started walking with Dovid and Avigayil, but still he wouldn’t join us. I called my wife and told her to watch him from the window to make sure he’s safe, while I kept walking with the other two to make it clear I was serious.

As I walked down the street, a passerby came over to me frantically, and said, “You forgot your child! He’s standing there all alone and it’s really dangerous!”

My initial reaction was, “Dude, I got this! Calm down. I have 8 kids—teens to toddlers—and I’m on duty 24 hours a day.”

But then I saw it from his perspective. He doesn’t know all that. He sees a distracted father, on the phone, walking with two kids and one kid left behind. It really looks like I forgot my third child! He has no idea that I’m anything but distracted. I’m on the phone with my wife, making sure my kid is safe, asking her advice, very aware that he’s back there on the steps, hoping he will cave and join us. But from his view, my child is in immediate danger and he needs to call the police or even CPS!

It struck me as an important and timely lesson. It often seems to us that G-d has abandoned us. He’s off on His “phone,” distracted, unaware of the real crises going on in the world. It feels like we are left alone to struggle through the pain and the challenges. But nothing could be further from the truth! G-d is more present than we can comprehend. He loves and cares for us like a father, always watching over us, our safety His top priority.

This weekend, we are going to celebrate the holiday of Shavuot for the 3334th time. It’s a time when G-d reveals Himself us in all His glory. Just as He revealed Himself at Sinai, He will reveal Himself to us. It’s the ideal time to recognize His presence, love, and care. So let’s open our eyes and pay attention!

Oh, and in the end, Yehuda got his way. I walked Avigayil and Dovid to school and Shevy drove Yehuda on her way to the school play.

Have a uplifting and inspiring Shavuos.

Rabbi Uriel Vigler