The East Coast has gotten more than its fair share of snow, ice, sleet and freezing rain this winter. So far, it has snowed 55.6 inches, making it one of the snowiest New York winters on record.
At the Chabad Israel center we have a car that is used by assorted people for assorted errands. So it was only a matter of time before winter interfered with our vehicle. On Friday afternoon, one of our staff members tried to park the car on 3rd Avenue, and ran into a snow bank. Getting onto it was no problem, but getting off was an entirely different story.
By the time I arrived on the scene, at least five kind strangers were standing around trying to help. One guy even brought a pot of boiling water which we tried pouring onto the snow to melt it, but to no avail. The car refused to budge.
Had it been a regular weekday, it would have been annoying, but slightly easier to deal with. But this happened on a Fridayafternoon and I needed the car to run some errands before Shabbat. I didn't have time for this mess!
Alas, it quickly became apparent that the car was firmly embedded in the snow.
In fact, the snow was actually a block of pure ice coated in a thin layer of snow. So we spent two hours chipping away at the ice, bit by bit. Finally, I was able to drive!
The Baal Shem Tov taught that we should search for meaning in every situation. So as I stood there on Friday, sweating and chipping away at the ice, I began thinking.
In this week's Torah portion we read about the Tabernacle, a sanctuary for G-d, which the Jews constructed in the desert. It was to be a spiritual haven, a place for G-d to "reside" in the physical world.
Today, we no longer have the Tabernacle or Temple, but our sages explain that there is a sanctuary for G-d inside each and every one of us. Our soul, should be a place where G-d can rest and feel at home.
As we navigate through life, it's all too easy to get "stuck in the snow" and become numb to spirituality. We become so wrapped up in our physical surroundings and responsibilities that we no longer feel the warmth of Judaism.
And that leads to apathy. We are simply not motivated to do anything beyond our comfort zone. We become immobilized by the icy coldness that has crept up on us.
That's when we realize we must do something about it. We cannot continue living in a frozen stupor! It's time to start chipping away at the ice and snow until we can feel our souls once more.
How do we accomplish that? By doing one Mitzvah at a time. Each time we give tzeddakah, light Shabbat candles, pray, help an elderly person, say a blessing on kosher food or do a multitude of other mitzvot, we are chipping away at the ice, and allowing the warmth inside our soul to emanate.
It took two hours to dig out my car. If the icy buildup around our souls has been accumulating for a while, it may take some time to recapture the warmth we know Judaism has to offer. But it's worth every minute.