Rabbi's Blog

Death is not just physical. It’s a spiritual state, a feeling of hopelessness, of paralysis. It’s the voice that whispers, “What’s the point? Nothing really matters.”

When someone connects to the energy of despair, decay, and/or futility, they become spiritually blocked. One is then unable to step into the sacred spaces of vitality, purpose, and Divine connection.

Judaism insists otherwise.

The ritual of the Red Heifer, mysterious as it is, comes to cleanse that energy. It reminds us that no matter how heavy life feels, there is a path back to life, to meaning, and to holiness.

The mitzvah of the Red Heifer is known as the ultimate chok, a law that defies logic. The ritual purifies the impure while rendering the pure impure. It does not make sense. And that’s the point.

The Torah is teaching us something profound: not everything holy fits into human logic. Some things are done not because it makes sense to do so, but because they are true. Because they are Divine.

This past Sunday felt like our own Red Heifer moment.

We rejected despair and did something that defies logic. We created purity, hope, and connection in the form of a building.

This new space isn’t just brick and wood. It’s a bold rejection of cynicism. A statement of belief in life, in community, and in the power of the Jewish soul.

Some look around and see a world in decline. At the opening of Harford Haven, we saw the opposite:
Children laughing.
Neighbors connecting.
Souls lifted.

Who would have imagined, five or ten years ago, that our community would come together to build a center for Jewish life in Harford County? That families, individuals, volunteers, and supporters would give not just of their time and money, but their hearts?

Could anyone have logically predicted this? Probably not.

Yet, we felt it.
We believed in it.
We showed up.
We made it happen.

Is there still a large mortgage? Yes.
Is everything finished? Not yet.
But that’s exactly what chukat haTorah is about: Stepping beyond comfort zones. Choosing commitment over calculation. Purpose over predictability.

We’re not just avoiding decay, we’re choosing vitality. Choosing growth. Choosing to bring holiness into this world, one mitzvah, one moment, one brick at a time.

We did that and it paid off in joy, connection, and holiness.

Have you ever experienced a red heifer moment? 

Have an amazing Shabbos,

Rabbi Kushi Schusterman

P.S. If you are in town, join us at the new building for services 10:00 am

Kushi

On ben Peles was a man who got caught up in the wrong cause. He appears at the beginning of Korach's rebellion against Moses, but then mysteriously disappears from the narrative.

Korach led a rebellion against Moses, cloaking his desire for power in spiritual language: "The entire congregation is holy!" But beneath these lofty words lay ego and jealousy. On ben Peles, a lesser-known character, initially joined Korach but then vanished from the story.

Rashi explains that On's wife saved him. She pointed out the futility of the fight, recognizing that regardless of who won, her husband would remain a follower, not a leader. Then, with quiet wisdom, she got him drunk, put him to bed, and guarded their tent by brushing her hair outside. This ensured that no man would violate her privacy by approaching, making her husband unreachable to Korach's messengers.

She didn't fight Korach directly. Instead, she removed her husband from the fight entirely.

One of the worst forms of negative energy occurs when it wears holy disguises. This is why spiritually inclined people can get swept up in destructive causes. The righteous language makes the poison harder to detect.

Four ways to avoid the wrong fight

1. Discern the Real Motivation Not all "righteous" battles are pure. Ask yourself: Who truly benefits from this argument? What lies beneath the spiritual rhetoric?
2. Quiet Wisdom Can Be Powerful On's wife didn't confront Korach directly. She set boundaries and removed her husband from harm's way. Sometimes the most effective action is indirect.
3. You Don't Always Need to Win—Just Avoid Losing On didn't defeat Korach; he simply didn't show up. That was enough to save him. Victory isn't always about defeat, sometimes it's about self-preservation.
4. Guard Your Space Just as On’s wife sat at the tent's entrance, we must protect our emotional and mental boundaries from toxic influences.

Are there "Korach-like" influences in your life, charismatic and dramatic, but rooted in ego, that you need to quietly distance yourself from?

As the Rebbe often taught, choose life. Surround yourself with people and causes that truly uplift. The best response to darkness isn't always confrontation; it's clarity, boundaries, and purpose.

Sometimes the most powerful choice is not showing up to the wrong fight.

Have a good shabbos,

Rabbi Kushi Schusterman 

For many Jews today, all eyes are on Israel.

This week’s Torah portion tells us the famous story of the twelve tribe leaders sent to scout the Land of Israel. What should have been a quick, fact-finding mission turned into a crisis. Ten of the twelve spies returned with fearful reports, swaying the people, and triggering 4 decades of wandering in the desert.

It’s tempting to shake our heads at their poor choice. However, this story isn't just about those people back then. Like everything in Torah, it's just as relevant to us, every day.

Life is filled with choices. We choose how to react to what we see. We choose whether to live with faith or fear. We choose whether to focus on obstacles or opportunities.

Here's the thing: making good choices doesn’t mean choosing perfectly.

Ever watch a toddler eat? Most of the food ends up on the floor, chair, walls, and maybe even in their hair. Despite very little getting into the mouth, the meal is worthwhile as the child still gets nourished. That’s growth; messy but meaningful.

Sometimes we approach spiritual life expecting it to be clean and polished, like a calm meditation retreat. Yet, the Torah doesn't ask for perfection. It asks for effort. G-d doesn’t demand that we get it right the first time. He wants us to be involved and engaged. To be present.

The Land of Israel is not just a holy space. It’s also a land with grapes, fields, armies, neighbors, taxes, etc. It's where spirituality meets responsibility. Where divine purpose is lived through physical action. It's where the spirit meets the ritual. Where the divine and the physical merge. Where heaven and earth kiss.

The spies feared this merger. They liked the comfort of the desert where manna fell from heaven and Moses handled the hard stuff. But Judaism isn’t meant to stay in the clouds or on a mountaintop. It belongs on the ground; your ground, your world, your life.

Even if things don’t go perfectly, whether it’s your prayer that is distracted, your learning is interrupted, or your mitzvot are messy, keep going. The food is still getting in! The nourishment is real. The choices you make, even imperfect ones, shape your journey toward a fully holistic life. One where spiritual and physical, soul and body, heaven and earth unite.

Have a good Shabbos,

Rabbi Kushi Schusterman

The story is told that the Baal Shem Tov once visited a very poor farmer together with a few of his students. During their stay, they ate everything in the house. The last of the flour was used for bread, the cow that gave them milk was slaughtered for its meat. The students were horrified. The wife couldn't understand why they ever agreed to host these guests. The children were begging for food.

As the Baal Shem Tov climbed into his carriage to leave, he turned to the man and said:
"I bless you: ask for whatever you need."
And with that, he rode off into the forest.

The man, who until now had been content with very little, was left with nothing. No food, no livestock, no income. Desperate, he lifted his eyes and prayed:
"Master of the Universe, I have never asked You for anything. But now, my wife and children have no food. I need money to feed them, to buy back our farm. My wife would be so happy to have dowries for our daughters and weddings for them — four weddings! And, since I am asking, please bless me to have enough to help others as well."

And then he wept. He fell to the ground, sobbing and praying. After some time, Ivan, the town drunkard, happened by.
"Please, don’t cry," Ivan said. "Maybe I can help. You have always treated me kindly, while others mocked me. I don’t feel well, and if I die, I want you to have what I’ve saved. Come, I’ll show you."
Ivan led him to a large stone and uncovered a hidden box filled with gold coins. That very day, Ivan passed away. The farmer now had enough to buy a beautiful home and build a new life.

A year later, the Baal Shem Tov returned and said:
"In heaven it had already been decreed that you were to become wealthy. But you were so humble, you never asked. I had to bring you to rock bottom so you would finally ask for the blessings waiting for you. Mazel Tov, my friend — to the best of years!"

There is a recurring theme that keeps surfacing: the struggle people have with asking. Asking for support. Asking for what they need. Speaking up about their struggles. Often we hold back — out of pride, fear, or simply not believing we are worthy.

This is precisely what we read about in this week’s Torah portion.

As the Jewish people journeyed in the desert, they celebrated Passover in their first year. But some were ritually impure and unable to participate. They came to Moshe with a simple plea:
"Why should we lose out?"
They wanted a chance to serve G-d like everyone else.
Moshe brought their request before G-d, who responded with the establishment of Pesach Sheini — the "Second Passover" — a second opportunity to bring the offering. All because they asked.

The message is clear:
When we ask, G-d responds.

And in today's world, we feel that need to ask more than ever. In the past few hours once again, tensions in the world rose sharply. Israel, defending itself against threats from Iran, launched targeted strikes to prevent further escalation. We pray for safety, for peace, and for stability for our brothers and sisters in Israel and throughout the world.

But beyond the headlines and geopolitics, there is a spiritual call. In times like these, we must turn to G-d and ask:

• Ask for safety for our brothers and sisters in Israel.
• Ask for healing for those who are sick.
• Ask for blessing and abundance for our families.
• Ask for the Geulah — the final redemption — when the world will finally be filled with peace, free of terror and war.

We must remember:
We are allowed to ask. We are supposed to ask.

May Hashem grant all our requests for good, and may we soon see a world of revealed goodness with the coming of Moshiach.

Good Shabbos,
Rabbi Kushi Schusterman

“The main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing” Stephen Covey

What is the main thing? 

Many tell us that it is Torah, study, spirituality, and the stuff that lifts our heads and elevates our consciousness. When our mind is uplifted, it uplifts everything.

The Torah, as well, emphasizes the importance of Torah study and spirituality.

In last week’s Torah portion, Bamidbar, it began discussing the Levites’ jobs in carrying the Tabernacles when traveling. When talking about the Kehot family, the ones tasked with the holiest mission of carrying the Ark of the Covenant, it is mentioned at the end of the Torah portion. 

This week’s Torah portion, Nasso (which means uplift), begins with the family of Gershon, also from the Levite tribe. They carried the curtains and coverings of the Mishkan, the more “mundane” parts of holiness. 

Splitting up the Levite family’s tasks into two portions and specifically starting the second one with the mundane teaches us a powerful Jewish principal. A real spiritual lift isn’t just when we study something holy, it’s when that holiness spills over into our daily lives. Into the groceries, carpools, phone calls, and laundry. Into the mitzvahs we do with our hands, not just the ideas we hold in our head.

It’s as if to say: you might need to start with inspiration, but don’t stop there. Elevate the everyday action as well. At the end of the day, Judaism is about raising our heads. However, more importantly, it’s about raising our lives.

So, what is the main thing? Living our mundane lives in the service of Hashem and spirituality.

What is one thing you can do to make your regular life a bit more spiritual?

Have an uplifting Shabbos,

Rabbi Kushi Schusterman

Mark Gallagher, an executive in Formula One auto racing, spoke about a conversation he had with ‘David’, a driver from the Williams team. David had suffered a terrible accident when his steering had failed during a test lap. David described it as one of those accidents where you genuinely feel frightened because you know you're about to hit the wall, hard, very hard.

After the crash, Sir Frank Williams himself, founder and chief executive of the team, invited David to the Williams factory. Frank brought him into the boardroom for an unusual meeting: to face the mechanic who hadn't bolted the suspension together properly.

The mechanic was devastated. He apologized profusely and said, "I just cannot believe what happened. I was building your steering system when I got distracted by a colleague. I walked away to do another job and completely forgot to come back and finish it."

Mark asked David, "So what happened to that mechanic?"

David's answer was fascinating. "Frank promoted him," he said. "He made him head of all steering systems. Frank's reasoning was simple: that guy will never, ever let another Williams car leave the garage without perfect steering. He's completely focused now because he never wants to repeat that mistake."

As we prepare for Shavuot, we're reminded that we are a nation of kohanim. Each and every Jew needs to see themselves as a true prince or princess, a child of G-d. We don't need to beat ourselves up when we stumble and make a mistake. Instead, we need to recognize that we're not just cogs in the factory, we are the head. And as head of "steering," or whatever area we've erred in, we must ensure we never repeat it.

Although we are not literally the "head of steering," we are the head of our own life. As we once again receive the Torah, let's commit to doing our best and not making the same mistake twice. As the saying goes: first mistake, shame on circumstances; second mistake, shame on me.

May we all be blessed with receiving the Torah with joy and pnimius.

Rabbi Kushi Schusterman 

 Sometimes we're not actually "always" doing the thing we think we're always doing.

A rabbi complained to my brother that he was "always fundraising." When they broke it down, he wasn't constantly on calls or in meetings. He was constantly worrying about fundraising. Without a clear plan, worry rushed in to fill the space.

The solution was simple but profound: create a concrete plan. Focus on doing something about the problem rather than being consumed by it.

Sometimes we get stuck living inside labels like "anxious" or "overwhelmed." We identify ourselves as overwhelmed instead of seeing it as experiencing overwhelm—living in it as opposed to moving through it.

When you have a challenge, break it into manageable parts. Recognize that you are not your challenge, and then figure out if there is any ONE thing you can do to overcome that challenge. Do it.

This week's Torah portion describes a time when the Jewish people would "flee the sword, even though there is no pursuer." Although we as a nation have "fulfilled" this curse, sometimes we might still feel like we're running from invisible threats.

Turning the worry into tangible positive action might be one way to start healing from this paralyzing experience.

Good Shabbos,

Rabbi Kushi Schusterman

P.S. After the attack in DC, a few people reached out to ensure we are safe. I got a call from the Bel Air Chief of Police ensuring we are safe, noting they are increasing patrols and there are no known credible threats in our area. Some threats are real and we are very vigilant.

General Note: If you have a real issue, please consult with a professional. Today's message is about when we have an imagined pursuer that the Torah is talking about: "The sound of a rustling leaf will pursue them; they will flee as if fleeing the sword, and they will fall, even though there is no pursuer." — Leviticus 26:36

Did you know that happiness is a choice you can make with your brain? About ten years ago, we gave a course called "How Happiness Thinks". Something that stuck with me is that the Zohar explains that the Hebrew word for joy, "Simcha," is the same as "Sham Moach" - which means "there is brain." This tells us that joy is something we can choose with our minds!

The Zohar, a kabbalistic writing, was written by Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai (called Rashbi for short). Tonight is Lag Ba'Omer, the 33rd day of the Omer counting, and marks the day Rashbi passed away. Rashbi was known as "the happiest of all tzaddikim" (righteous ones). As per his deepest wish, we celebrate this day with happiness. Not just any happiness, but true Joy.

Joy is a choice. Joy comes from seeing things from their deepest level. Kabbalah is the “Inner light of the Torah” and if we tap into the inner Torah, it is easier to be happy!

Think of Torah like an apple. The outside is the stories and rules we can all see. However, inside the apple is something sweet and special, like Torah’s inner light. Rashbi taught that when we understand these deeper meanings, we find true joy!

On Lag Ba'Omer, we connect with the inner part of Torah. Then, two weeks later, on Shavuot, we receive the whole Torah. Before we can fully understand all of Torah, we need to connect to its heart first!

The word "Moshiach" is a permutation of "Yismach" (he will be happy) and "Y'samach" (he will make others happy). This wordplay reveals a profound truth: happiness is super important for bringing Moshiach - the time of the ultimate redemption of the Jewish people!

In addition, the Hebrew word for "messenger" (shliach) has the same numerical value as the word for "happy" (sameach). This means that being G-d's messenger naturally means being joyful!

Joy has a special power; it helps us create new things! As it says in the Tehillim - Psalms, "The mother of children is happy." That's why Lag B'Omer carries special blessings for those desiring children. Joy helps everyone bring new good things into the world.

Even though Lag Ba'Omer marks the day Rashbi passed away, we celebrate instead of being sad. This teaches us something powerful about happiness: true joy comes from seeing the deeper meaning in everything, even things that seem sad at first.

When we choose joy with our brains, connect to the inner light of Torah, and remember that we're all G-d's messengers, happiness becomes much easier! This happiness isn't just for us; it helps bring light to the whole world and brings Mashiach closer.

Today, let's make the choice to be happy by finding joy in the deeper meaning of things! We can all be happy messengers bringing more light into the world.

Have a good shabbos and a happy Lag B'omer

Rabbi Kushi Schusterman

Who is holy? Is it the mystic, the monk, or the guru?

So, here's the thing about holiness, it's not what most people think it is.

When it tells us to be holy, the Torah goes on to give examples like charity to the poor, honesty in business, respecting parents and elders, love thy neighbor, etc. Behaviors that seem more mundane and far from “holiness”.

When we examine the Hebrew word for holy - "kadosh" (קָדוֹשׁ), we discover something nuanced. The root word ק-ד-ש, K-D-Sh, isn't just about purity. It essentially means "set apart" or "separated" for divine purpose.

Here's where most religions get it twisted. They teach withdrawal from the world to achieve holiness. The message becomes: separate yourself completely, avoid contamination, preserve your ritual purity at all costs. The holier you are, the less you touch the messy world around you.
Judaism flips this script. We're taught to dive into the world while remaining kadosh - set apart in purpose, not in participation. We engage fully with life around us, while maintaining our divine essence.

This isn't about hiding from the world; it's about transforming it. Take ordinary actions, ordinary moments, and elevate them. Make them G-dly. Your separateness isn't about physical isolation; it's about bringing divine purpose to everything you touch.

Being holy in the Jewish sense means being in the world but not of it; remaining above the fray while actively working to raise it higher.

What normal and holy thing are you going to do this week?

Have a good Shabbos,

Rabbi Kushi Schusterman

There's an old joke we often share: What is worse than finding a worm in your apple? Finding half a worm.

This carries deeper wisdom when we read in this week's Torah portion about tzaraas, a spiritual affliction that presents similar to leprosy. What is worse than finding out you are fully covered in tzaraas? Finding out that half your body is covered.

Surprisingly, being fully covered is actually better! Why? Because then you remain pure.

As the Torah says, "And if the tzaraas has spread over the skin, and the tzaraas covers all the skin of the [person with the] lesion, from his head to his feet…he has turned completely white—he is clean" (Vayikra 13:12-13).

In other words, while a partial lesion may require isolation and purification, once the condition covers the entire body, the Torah declares the person pure!

One powerful explanation for this seemingly paradoxical law is that when your entire body is covered in tzaraas, the battle between good and evil becomes crystal clear. The division between right and wrong is so evident that healing has already begun.

Complete coverage represents that you've successfully separated your internal experience from external afflictions. All negativity is being expelled from your inner self, and you're well on your way to recovery.

When we face situations that blur the line between right and wrong, we need guidance (like going to a Kohen in biblical times). However, when something is clearly wrong, we should appreciate the gift of that clarity. The decision becomes straightforward, sparing us the struggle of moral uncertainty.

In today's world, there is often a lack moral clarity. The more we study Torah and integrate its timeless values into our daily lives, the easier it becomes to distinguish between good and evil. Our spiritual vision sharpens, allowing us to navigate life's challenges with confidence.

May we all merit to maintain our inner purity while keeping life's challenges external. When faced with difficult choices, may the light of Torah illuminate our path forward with clarity and conviction.

Have a good Shabbos,

Rabbi Kushi Schusterman

Dr. Velvl Greene was a professor of epidemiology at the University of Minnesota around 1960. He worked on NASA's program to find life on Mars. Despite being a scientist immersed in the secular world, his path would cross with Rabbi Moshe Feller. Once, before a trip, Rabbi Feller convinced the professor to order a kosher airline meal to inspire other Jewish passengers.

"If it will make you happy, I'll do you the favor," Dr. Greene reluctantly agreed, though he continued eating non-kosher at home.

On the flight, disaster struck. His kosher meal never arrived. While other passengers enjoyed their dinner, Greene sat hungry and increasingly frustrated. His anger built: at the airline, at himself for agreeing to this arrangement, and especially at Rabbi Feller for putting him in this position.

During a midnight stopover at Chicago's O'Hare airport, the hungry professor spotted an open non-kosher hot dog stand. The aroma was irresistible. Fuming, he called Rabbi Feller collect to announce his rebellion.

"I'm about to eat a non-kosher hot dog with mustard, onions, relish and kraut," he declared, "and with each bite, I'll be thinking of you!"

The rabbi listened patiently before responding with unexpected simplicity: "Velvl, you've often asked me about the essence of Judaism. Tonight, I'll tell you. It's about passing the hot dog stand and not buying one. That's all of Judaism; the rest is commentary."

"You're crazy!" the professor exclaimed before hanging up.

At the counter, something profound happened. He couldn't bring himself to order. In that moment of hesitation, a deeper understanding emerged. The kosher laws, which seemed arbitrary and inconvenient, suddenly revealed their spiritual purpose. This wasn't about food or rules; it was about his relationship with G-d and his identity as a Jew.

The kosher laws, like many Jewish traditions, aren't always easily explained through logic. They are chukim—divine statutes given without explicit rationale. Yet throughout history, these practices have served as a daily reminder of Jewish identity and covenant. In choosing to pass by that hot dog stand, Dr. Greene wasn't just making a dietary choice; he was embracing his heritage and reconnecting with something eternal.

Dr. Greene never ate non-kosher again. That single moment of choice, that small "no" to a hot dog, became a transformative "yes" to a deeper, more meaningful life.

What mitzvah is your “hot dog” that can transform your relationship with Hashem, because you embraced the connection over the hunger pangs.

Have a good Shabbos,

Rabbi Kushi Schusterman

Long ago in 1772, there was a kind and wise Rabbi named Menachem Mendel Horodoker. He and his friends went on a big adventure, leaving the Polish–Lithuanian Commonwealth to live in a special place called Eretz Yisroel - AKA Israel/The Holy Land.

One sunny day in Jerusalem, something exciting happened! A man climbed up a tall mountain called the Mount of Olives. At the very top, he blew a shofar. The sound was so loud that everyone in the whole city could hear it!

"WHOOOOOOOOO!" went the shofar.

All the people in Jerusalem started running around excitedly.

"Did you hear that?" they shouted. "The Moshiach has arrived! The world is going to change and become magical!"

The news spread faster than spilled juice on a white tablecloth! Everyone was talking about it.

Rabbi Mendel heard all the noise outside. He walked over to his window and opened it wide. Then he did something funny - he stuck his nose out and took a big, deep sniff of the air, like he was smelling for Kosher for Passover cookies baking.

After his big sniff, Rabbi Mendel smiled gently and shook his head.

"Not yet, my friends," he said. "When Moshiach really comes, the whole world will feel different. Everything will be filled with wonder and goodness, like the ocean is filled with water. We're not quite there yet."

Later his friend, Reb Gronem, explained: "Do you know why Rabbi Mendel had to stick his head OUT the window to check? Because inside his own little house, the air was ALREADY filled with that special magic of Moshiach! His room was so full of goodness and wonder that he couldn't tell the difference!"

This story is shared by Chassidim for over 200 years. But what is the message?

One message is that even before the global era of Moshiach, we can choose to live a life where exile, limitations, small minded thinking doesn't exist. So much so that our life inside is essentially messianic. To see if the global Moshiach has arrived, we need to open the window and smell the energy outside.

On the last day of Passover, we celebrate the possibility for this energy with the "Moshiach Meal". RSVP HERE The form will close once we are full or at noon on Friday. 

Join us if you can. If you can't, ask yourself how can I make Moshiach energy more real in my life?

Rabbi Kushi Schusterman

Passover is the Holiday of Freedom.

To celebrate freedom, we have a whole ritual called a Seder, which means order. For most people freedom means lack of order, no rules and I get to do what I want!

One who grew up Torah observant and now is no longer observant, in Yiddish they are called “Frie”, pronounced “fry”, which means free.

How does this freedom affect my connection with my higher power?

When you have a relationship with a G-d that recognizes the “Egypt” you live in and you trust that Hashem will take care of you, like he did for the Jews in the original Egypt on the original Passover, then you are truly free. You have a structure. E.G., at the Seder we first focus on the good and holiness (kadesh) and only then start to dabble with the challenges (karpas in saltwater).

True freedom is when you are free from worry, both the spiritual and material kind. True freedom is when you have nothing holding you back; no internal or external constraints and boundaries to living a complete Jewish life.

When you sign up for the limitations of an exclusive relationship with Hashem, you open yourself up to all the benefits of a meaningful, personal, and exclusive relationship.

To be free, you need to accept that structure, seder, is good.

Have a freeing, kosher, happy and orderly Passover.

Rabbi Kushi Schusterman