Thursday morning I woke up and wondered what to write about for my weekly blog. I tried to think of anything exciting that happened this week, and realized I couldn’t come up with a single thing. Absolutely nothing. Thank G-d, everything’s great! No drama, no crises, no emergencies. Now, that’s great news but it would make for a very boring blog!
Still trying to come up with something, I arrived at our new daily morning minyan in our Chabad House at 7:15 sharp. It’s a brand new group and today is Rosh Chodesh - the beginning of a brand new month, which seems apropos. Everyone’s smiling, we’re feeling holy and accomplished, the coffee’s kicking in, the sky’s blue and the trees are vibrant with the changing season … in other words: good vibes all around.
I even made an announcement before we started: “It’s going to be a great month, everyone! New beginnings! Blessings! Success!”
And then, the table collapsed. Literally.
We opened the Torah, I called up the first aliyah, and with no warning at all, the folding table that the Torah was resting on completely caved in like it’d had enough of our minyan and was going back to sleep.
Apparently, whoever set it up didn't secure it properly, and now we were facing a terrifying scenario: the Torah was rolling off rapidly, a split second away from hitting the floor …
I started to panic, a succession of thoughts firing through my brain: “Not the Torah! Not today! Not on Rosh Chodesh! Not ANY day!”
But without hesitation, before the rest of us could even gasp, our hero, Steven - who had just received the first aliyah - sprang into action. And when I say sprang, I mean SPRANG! His reflexes kicked in like a Navy SEAL in tefillin, he dove forward, arms out, and somehow managed to catch the Torah literally a millimeter before it hit the floor.
The angels cheered, the minyan exhaled, and Steven became an instant legend.
Later, when I asked Steven how it felt, he said, “Rabbi, my reflexes worked so fast, it felt like I was holding a baby. It just felt so good to catch it and hold it.”
And he’s right. The Torah is not just a parchment scroll; it’s our baby. It’s fragile, precious, and alive. We hold it close, protect it, and never let it fall.
Now, according to Jewish tradition, if a Torah actually falls to the ground, the entire congregation is supposed to fast. Dropping a Torah scroll or tefillin is a sign from Heaven that one has done something wrong for which one must repent.
Although relieved we wouldn’t have to fast, I made an announcement right then and there: “Friends, we’re not fasting, thank G-d, but we are giving tzedakah in lieu of nearly having to fast!”
So everyone gave charity and our close call remained just that: a close call.
And I went from having a perfectly ordinary week with nothing much to write about to having a wild, heart-pounding morning with a fully fleshed out blog idea!
But here’s the takeaway that came to me as my breathing returned to normal and we finished davening as planned.
Sometimes in life, the “table” collapses. The thing you were relying on - a person, a system, a plan, etc. doesn’t come through and everything feels hopeless.
But that’s when G-d sends a Steven (or gives you the strength to be the Steven!) to step up and catch it before it hits the floor.
Because Torah i.e., truth, goodness, honesty, holiness never really falls. The world may wobble, but the Torah stands upright. Always.
That’s the story of our people, too. We bend, we shake, we’re battered by wild winds at times, but we never let go of what’s holy.
So here’s to Steven’s reflexes, to Rosh Chodesh miracles, and to holding on tight even when it seems like it might be too late.
L’chaim to an incredible month ahead! Chodesh tov!