I’m not in the business of Kiruv (religious outreach). I’ve never experienced talking to people and saying, “Okay, you should start being Shomer Shabbat (Shabbat-observant), you should start keeping kosher (ritually permissible).” I don’t—that’s not my thing. I teach people who are already initiated. I try to teach things of a certain level.
But this week, for almost the first time in my life, I had that experience: heroes from Israel came to our town. The Gush Etzion Foundation put something together where they brought people who are now very famous, real heroes who saved others since October 7th. You’ve heard about Rachel, the cookie lady, and Rami, the guy who saved 700 people at the Nova Festival. I had a big zekhut (merit) to have them for Shabbat lunch last week. They just left today. You’ll understand the connection between today and last week. On Shabbat, I had them for lunch.
One of the women who was there, Chani, lost her 44-year-old son in Be'eri. Her son was a policeman from Or Akiva, an incredible human being. As soon as he heard what was happening, he took his car, called his police friends, and told them, “Just come; we’ve got to go somewhere.” They drove down south and saved a lot of people, but unfortunately, they were burnt alive—a whole group of policemen. A very, very sad story.
But something incredible happened last week. This lady was chiloni, no connection to Judaism, nothing. It was the first time she had been exposed to Shabbat in the context of a Shabbat lunch. She told me, “I never did a Shabbat lunch. People do kiddush (sanctification) Friday night; maybe they have a Shabbat dinner, but Shabbat lunch? Who sits down for lunch? Shabbat people are busy; they go here, they go there.” For the first time in her life, she was sitting at a beautiful Shabbat table. And number two, it was the first time she was sitting with people like me, my wife, and our family. She told me herself, “I never got this close to people like you.” She couldn’t even say it. I said, “You mean religious people?” She said, “Yes.” She got very, very inspired.
I met the organizer, Amit Levy, and she told him, “I got so inspired by this encounter, by these couple of days that we spent together with the Miami community, that I decided to light candles every Shabbat, every Friday night. My mother used to light candles; I didn’t.” This is a woman in her 80s, and she decided to start lighting candles every Friday night.
It gave me a sense. It was, again, incredible, because I’m not in the Kiruv world, and I could feel what Kiruv rabbis feel when they achieve something like this. That was not my intention. It was just bonding, being together, and just, I guess, we all feel that way these days. One thing led to another by itself. We were just ourselves. We were having a good lunch, talking, and being sensitive to all these people. She just felt inspired. And this union is just something. It’s so strong. When you think about it, I didn’t say a word about Shabbat. I didn’t say anything. She just did that. She just decided to do that. And I could feel that others also felt very, very strongly.
The reason I’m telling you this is because this week’s parasha, Parashat Bo, is when the Korban Pesach (Passover offering) is introduced to Bnei Yisrael (Children of Israel). Before Yetziat Mitzrayim, Hashem says, “I need you to do Korban Pesach,” which is pretty incredible. This Korban Pesach is very interesting. The Korban Pesach should be observed the next year, the Chachamim (Sages) tell us. It’s a remembrance. It’s a remembrance of Yetziat Mitzrayim. But the first Korban Pesach, before Yetziat Mitzrayim, is kind of misplaced. You celebrate something to remember something that didn’t happen yet.
Another interesting thing about the Korban Pesach is that in the Torah, we have two kinds of Korbanot (offerings). We have a sacrifice called a Korban Yachid and a sacrifice called a Korban Tzibur. A Korban Yachid is a personal Korban, if I want to bring a sacrifice for myself. Then you have a Korban Tzibur, which is a sacrifice for the Tzibur, for the people. In general, it’s one for the whole Kehillah (community), for the whole Klal Yisrael (the Jewish people).
Here it’s a little bit of both, because it’s a Korban Yachid in the sense that everyone is obligated to bring his Korban Pesach. But at the same time, it’s not each person; it’s each Chaburah, each group of people together. So, per family, per maybe small neighborhood, whatever, people bring it together. But also, everybody in the Klal Yisrael needs to bring this Korban Pesach. So it’s a Korban Yachid that is done by the Tzibur. Everybody does it together, at the same time, with the same halachot (laws), at the same moment.
Or HaChaim tells us that’s what was needed for the Klal Yisrael to merit going out of Egypt. Because if we don’t have this thing—that we all do the same thing together as one—then that beracha (blessing), that shefa beracha (abundance of blessing), that... You have small berachot; you have a big beracha: the big beracha of Yetziat Mitzrayim, coming out of Egypt to hold millions of people. You need something enormous for that. It doesn’t happen by itself. And that enormity has to come together. And the big beracha comes like this.
According to Kabbalah (Jewish mysticism), Hashem has a beracha. It’s a pipe. In order to receive the beracha, you need to have a matching pipe. Hashem is one. He’s Echad (one). If we’re not Echad, then that pipe cannot match. If I come with my little pipe, and you come with your little pipe, and somebody else comes with a cup, and the other one comes with a straw, it’s not going to fit. And if it’s not going to fit, then the beracha is not going to be one.
That’s what we say in Sim Shalom. In Sim Shalom we say, “All as one, because you’re one.” We have to be one so that there’s a perfect match. b'or panecha, with the light that comes from your face.
Now we’re living in days when we should be expecting enormous beracha, because there is unity. This lady just said it: “I never sat with people like you.” I could say the same thing: I never sat with people like her, in a sense. At the Shabbat table, together with everybody, it never happened to me. But now that it has happened, we have to take advantage of the situation. We have to pray, because the beracha comes from Echad to Echad. Now that we are Echad, we beg the Echad to match our beracha. Shabbat Shalom.