The Invisible Bridge

One last thought, if I may, about leaving Boca. We were honored at BRS yesterday with a Seudah Shlishit in our honor. It was very nice. Rabbi Goldberg said really nice things about us and many people gave us warm brachot and good wishes. After Shabbat we were presented with a beautiful Challah Tray as well. I thanked the community for everything they have done for our family and shared the following idea.

Last summer, while leading a group of teens on a 6 week tour of Europe and Israel, I had a powerful experience which I shared with the kids. We were at the Kotel on the last Friday night of our trip. There were thousands of others around us all davening and singing with their groups. We had to sing Lecha Dodi at the top of our lungs, and even then it was hard to hear. You could feel the Kedusha, the holiness, of the moment, praying with so many others in the holiest spot on earth. I was thinking about how powerful this moment was and how I wished the kids and I could feel this close to Hashem every Friday night. So I stopped the davening for a moment and I said the following.

"Guys, I want each of you to close your eyes right now. I want you to picture your community at home. Picture the seat where you daven in shul on Friday night. Picture your family's shabbat table. And now I want you to build an invisible bridge to that scene. So that next week, when you are back home, and every week after that, you can close your eyes again and cross that invisible bridge back to this moment right now. Feel the power of this moment and take it with you to every shabbat going forward!"

I shared this story with our community here in Boca and I said that I believe it is possible to build an invisible bridge through Time or Geography to connect back to people, places, and moments that have inspired you and shaped who you are. Elisheva and I are moving on physically from Boca, but we have built an invisible bridge connecting us back to this community. We will forever remain connected to Boca and will close our eyes and feel the love from this community we have been priviledged to call home whenever we need a little inspiration. May we all build bridges to the places and moments that have inspired us.

A Hug From The Future

Yesterday we moved out of the house we have been living in for the last 9 years. It was a hard day. In fact, this whole move has been harder than I expected. On the one hand, we are so excited for our new opportunity in Houston. It seems like a great community, and I'm so excited to join the amazing team at Beren. But at the same time, Boca has been our home for 9 years and it is a community that we love. We feel very at home here, have so many close friends here, and have raised our children here. As we walked through our empty house one last time last night I was reminded of the day we moved in 9 years ago. I was such a different person then. And our family was different as well. Shira was only 4 when we moved in. Now she is a bright, kind, mature 13 year old. Rina and Simcha were dreams of ours, that to be perfectly honest, I didn't always believe we would ever see fulfilled. Thank God, we have grown so much here in so many ways. We have been through very hard times here, and very happy times as well. We have so many special memories here, and although we are leaving Boca, Boca will never ever leave us. I've been thinking about what it is about Boca that I'm going to miss the most. What is it that's making this separation so hard? Some of it may just be normal anxiety about the unknown. But I feel that it goes much deeper than that. Is it the house itself? Not really. We have had many great memories in that house and will always remember it. But our new house in Houston is even nicer. Is it the neighborhood? While we will miss the palm trees and the beach, Houston is also very pretty and has a similar climate. At the end of the day, it's the people and the relationships that we will miss. Even with Facebook, and Skype, and Southwest, it's not the same as seeing people day to day. And I'm not only talking about our close friends with whom I'm sure we will stay close forever. It's even those people you see in shul that you look up to and have learned from, that have given you a hug or a kind word during tough times, and with whom you have shared so much. It helps me appreciate, at least a little, of what Avraham must have been feeling when told to leave his land, his birthplace, and his father's house. For Rina and Simcha, this community has literally been מולדתך, it is all they have ever known. For Shira, it has been בית אביך, the place she grew up. And for us, it has been ארצך, the place we felt at home. So I guess that's why this separation has been hard for us. It feels like we belong in both places and we don't want to let go of either one. It actually fits with a Dvar Torah I heard from a friend (Rabbi Neil Fleischman) about this week's parsha (Korach). The Mishnah in Avot says that the Machloket (dispute) of Korach was the classic example of a dispute that is not L'sheim Shamayim, for the sake of heaven. But the Mishnah says that if a Machloket is L'sheim Shamayim then Sofa L'Hitkayem, it will endure. Why would you want a dispute to endure? The answer may lie in the word Machloket itself. It comes from the word Chelek, a portion. If a dispute is really for the sake of heaven then each side knows that they only have a portion of the truth. And that they need each other to complete the puzzle. That's the type of dispute that we want to last. The kind that keeps people connected to each other even when they are apart. And that's how we feel right now. We have had this internal Machloket between staying in Boca and moving to Houston. We feel connected to both. And therefore Sofa L'Hitkayem, we pray that our relationship with both will endure forever. So what do we take with us from Boca? Beautiful relationships. Amazing memories. An understanding of what the word Community really means. And the inspiration to try to bring the sense of Achdut (unity) Kavod (mutual respect and tolerance for differences) and Areivut (shared responsibility) with us wherever we go. They say that when you depart from someone you should leave them with a Bracha, a blessing. To Boca, all I can say is thank you for all you have done for our family and may you continue to inspire many others. As for ourselves, the best Bracha we got was from my sister Rachel who said that she wished that the me from a year from now, who knows how right this move was for our family, and how happy we will be in Houston, could give a hug to the me from right now. I know she is right and I look forward to that hug. Anyone who knows me knows I love books (more on that in future posts). We have just completed an amazing (and long) chapter in the book of our lives. I can't wait to see how the next chapter goes. If it's anything like the last one then we'll be very happy indeed.

Our Life In A Truck

Yesterday was one of those days you will never forget. The movers came and packed the truck with all our life's possessions. Even after weeks of sorting, sifting, throwing away, selling, and giving away, we still had about 250 boxes of books, toys, papers, dishes, etc... When did we get so much stuff? And how did we fit it into a 3BR condo for 9 years? As the moving truck was pulling away, all I could think about (aside from how physically and emotionally exhausted I felt) was how none of that comes with us to the next world. As I said to my wife Elisheva at the time, we should live and be well for many more years, with God's help. But when the time comes all we will be able to take with us is our Maasim Tovim, our good deeds. I hope the truck with our Maasim Tovim will be even more packed than the huge truck that pulled away yesterday.

My Last Day As A Teacher

Today was my last day as a classroom teacher. I stress classroom teacher because I believe we are all teachers in our everyday lives, and because no matter what I do I will always give shiurim and share the joy of learning with others. Anyway, like I said, today was my last day. I've been a teacher in various schools in NJ, NY, Yerushalayim, and FL for 14 years. But this summer (actually 2 weeks from today) my wife Elisheva and I, together with our 3 kids, are moving to Houston, TX to become the Judaic Principal of Beren Academy. This is an amazing opportunity, one which I have been preparing for all these years. I am very excited, and have started this blog to chronicle my journey, both geographic and professional. So why was today my last day as a teacher? I actually taught my last class last week. But as any teacher knows, report cards always loom even after the students are off to summer vacation. So there I was, sitting at my computer typing in my last few comments. And I was thinking about the real point of report card comments. Obviously, a major goal is to give feedback about the student's strengths and weaknesses. This helps the student, the parents, and future teachers. I thought about each of my 8th grade talmidim and wrote appropriate comments that reflected their grade. I was about to finish when I went back and added one last line for each student. I wrote "Good luck in high school. I will always remain your Rebbe and look forward to hearing great things." Because at that moment, as I was putting the final touches on another year of teaching, I reminded myself that you never really stop being a teacher. Like a farmer who does not see the fruits of his labor right away, a teacher sometimes does not see the impact of his efforts until years down the line. I may not see those kids in the room every day anymore, but I will forever be their Rebbe. Not only in the sense that I will always be there for them if they need me. But also in that I will be following their progress with sincere interest and expecting great things from them. So, I guess my 1st reflection as I head off on this new adventure is that although today was my last day as a classroom teacher, I will never stop being a Rebbe. I thank all the hundreds of students whom I have had the priviledge of learning with over the years. And I leave you with the most important lesson I have been trying to teach you all along: I believe in you.