Rabbi's Blog

There’s a comedian who jokes about the sheer chaos of getting out the door with kids. Last minute scrambling for lost shoes, zippers that don’t close, snacks that must be had in the car, and then, when all are finally in the car, someone must go to the bathroom. It’s stressful, messy, and somehow takes an extra hour. Sound familiar?

Leaving the house is the first step of a journey. You may not be on the highway yet, or even know exactly how long the trip will take. Yet, once you step out the front door, you’re no longer at home. You’ve started moving.

When the Jewish people left Egypt, that moment, just stepping out, meant they were no longer slaves. They hadn’t reached the Promised Land, but something had fundamentally shifted.

The same is true in our lives.

When you’re in an emotional, spiritual, or mental funk, and you take that first small action: playing uplifting music, calling a friend, learning something inspiring… you’re already on your way out. You haven’t “arrived” yet, but you’re no longer where you were.

No matter how far you’ve fallen, it only takes one step to start rising. One moment of connection can shift your whole direction.

“These are the journeys of the Israelites” is how the Torah begins talking about the journey into the desert. Although it took only one journey to leave Egypt, it refers to it as journeys, teaching us a powerful lesson. No matter what level you grow to, what was yesterday’s destination, is a new constricting experience for today. No matter how far you’ve come, you haven’t “arrived.” Growth is in the journey, not a destination.

Wherever you are, don’t get think you are so great, and don’t let yourself sink too low. Life is a series of steps. Just take the next one.

Are you ready to go?

Have a good Shabbos,

Rabbi Kushi Schusterman 

Pinchas, the grandson of Aaron the High Priest, saw a public act of immorality that defied G-d’s will and desecrated the sanctity of the Jewish people. While others stood by in shock, Pinchas rose with zeal, taking swift action to stop the wrongdoing. His boldness wasn’t fueled by anger, but by devotion to G-d and a desire to restore sanctity (and sanity). In response, G-d rewarded him with a covenant of peace and eternal priesthood. Pinchas wasn’t the obvious hero. He wasn’t the elder nor a high-ranking leader. He wasn’t even one of the “big names” like Moses or Aaron. And yet, when no one else moved, he acted. While others stood paralyzed, unsure, or unwilling, Pinchas stepped in to right the wrong. And G-d rewarded him with something extraordinary. It’s strange; zealotry usually implies the opposite of peace. However, Pinchas teaches us that when our passion is rooted in truth, not in ego, anger, or drama, then (and only then) our bold actions can actually bring healing. Here’s the kicker: Pinchas didn’t wait for someone “more qualified.” He didn’t say, “Who am I to act when Moses is here?” He didn’t second-guess whether he had the credentials, the title, or the learning. He simply knew that something had to be done and did it. He trusted that G-d had put him there, at that moment, for a reason. Perhaps the sages around him were silent, not because they didn’t care, but because Hashem was waiting to see if someone like Pinchas, a “regular guy”, would rise to the occasion. And he did. We often find ourselves in situations where something isn’t right. It could be in our community, our families, or even within ourselves. And the little voice creeps in: “You’re not the one to fix this. Let someone else step in. You’re not spiritual enough… not wise enough… not strong enough.” But the truth is, it’s all noise. YOU might be the one G-d is counting on. The Rebbe teaches that Pinchas had the soul of Elijah the Prophet, the one who will herald the coming of Moshiach. That means that his boldness wasn’t just about a single act, it was about ushering in a better future. And so is yours. When you respond to a moment of truth with courage and self-sacrifice, you’re not just solving a problem. You’re fulfilling your purpose. You’re bringing light into a dark place. You’re helping usher in the ultimate era of peace. Maybe it’s time for you and me to become zealots. Not angry or destructive ones. One who says: “This matters. I’m going to act. I’m not going to wait for someone else.” Because sometimes, you are the one Heaven is waiting for. Have an amazing Shabbos, Rabbi Kushi Schusterman

 Bilaam had one job: curse the Jews. And he really wanted to. He wasn’t just passively going along with Balak’s request, he was all in. However, he had a challenge: Bilaam knew that Hashem runs the world. He therefore played a strange game, trying to maneuver around G-d’s will, hoping to find a loophole.

One can’t outmaneuver the truth. In the end, the words that came from his mouth were blessings. Because when Hashem runs the show, even the plots of a would-be prophet-for-hire get flipped upside down.

I’ve been thinking: what’s the antidote to a “Bilaam moment”?

Maybe it is when we don’t want to do something good, yet we pause and ask ourselves:
Should I?
Could I?
And then… we do it anyway.

That’s when we flip the narrative. That’s when blessings show up.

The other day, I got a call around 6 PM. A Jewish couple was stuck in Elkton with their baby, no kosher food and no support. It was not very good timing for me to pick up and go and asked them to reach out to Chabad of Delaware, who was anyways closer and should be honored with the mitzvah.

But they were out of town.

I was an hour away, and honestly? I really didn’t want to go.

After a quick conversation with Fraida, I found myself taking the pan she packed of food and salad and heading out for a 2 HR excursion.

I didn’t see a miracle. I didn’t get a flash of divine reward. But I did feel the quiet joy of being there for another Jew in their time of need.

Not because I wanted to. Because it was the right thing to do.

What’s something good that you need to do but don’t really want to?

Try doing it anyway.
That’s where the blessing is.

Have a blessed shabbos,

Rabbi Kushi Schusterman