Rabbi Shmuel Reichman

We are each endowed with our own unique potential, and everything in our life – down to the smallest detail – is here to help us fulfill our unique role.

When you look at a beautiful sunset on the beach, where exactly is the location of beauty? Is it the sunset? The reflection on the water? The contrast of the beach against the sunset? It’s none of them and all of them.

On the one hand, we all believe that we are unique and special. On the other hand, we sometimes struggle to experience our individuality, feeling almost lost in the crowd.

When you see something, you experience it all at once; there’s no process, no surprises. When hearing, when taking a journey, there can be a long-winding path, twisting and turning in all directions, leading you on a seemingly endless quest.

The spiritual concept of seeing is the idea of observing something as it is, i.e., in a completely static state, lacking any movement. When you see a picture, you grasp the entire image instantaneously.

When used properly, clothing mitigates the shame of our physical bodies and helps us express our higher, dignified selves in the world. When misused, clothing can hide our spiritual core, portraying ourselves as completely physical beings.

Some may refer to the Torah as a history book; others may think of it as a book of law or a source of Jewish wisdom. While these are all true, they only scratch the surface of the Torah’s true nature.

We must ask ourselves: Is this the best way to handle an ordeal? When we face challenges, how do we act during these moments of pain and discomfort?

While the Ramban suggests that a test is within one’s capacity, the very Hebrew word for a test suggests otherwise. The root of the word nisayon is neis, the Hebrew word for miracle.

Hashem did not change His mind, the people themselves changed. The only way to change a gezeirah (decree) is through teshuva and tefillah.

The first night of Pesach was a gift, an experience of transcendence. This night was characterized by the miracles of makkas bechoros and yetzias Mitzrayim, which connected the Jewish people to a higher dimension of existence.

In truth, we are not counting down to Matan Torah, but rather are building toward it, ascending one day at a time. We do not wait for Shavuos to arrive; we actively bring it ourselves through the time and effort we invest as we count the omer.

In order to live a spiritual life, one must escape the physical, completely rejecting their physical nature. Therefore, spiritual systems such as Buddhism prescribe meditation, abstinence, and the suppression of physical desire. In such a system, the ideal is to sit isolated on a mountaintop and meditate on our navel.

The Seder night serves as an opportunity to pass over our mesorah, our tradition and legacy, to the next generation. It's a night when we speak about emunah, the meaning of being a Jew, and our purpose in this world. In order to teach these lessons to our children and ourselves in a deep and lasting way, we must encourage the Seder participants to ask questions, no matter the age or knowledge-level.

There is a fundamentally deeper understanding of a challenge – one that reveals the very core spiritual purpose and effect of a test.

Most spiritual schools of thought are focused wholly on the spiritual; they view the physical world as lowly and dangerous. They therefore claim that the physical should be avoided to the greatest extent possible.

The carpenter was shocked! If only he had known he was building his own house, he would have invested so much more effort.

Amalek rejects Hashem’s connection to this world or any connection between the spiritual and the physical. Essentially, Amalek denies Hashem’s control of this world and the ability for man to uplift himself to the level of the spiritual.

Things are not always as they seem. Each and every person in this world has a story, one much deeper than a surface glance reveals. Similarly, every object and occurrence in the physical world is laced with layers of depth and meaning. We must choose to peer beyond the surface in order to discover these layers.

It seems strange, even ironic, to derive a source for marriage from a case in which a man’s wife dies. However, this is not ironic, nor is it a coincidence; it reflects the deep truth that marriage is eternal.

If the events in this world emanate from the mazalos, how can we reconcile the fact that they foretold that Avraham would not have children? Chazal do not claim that the mazal changed, only that Avraham transcended it. How did this work?

The inability to fully understand the destination of one’s own growth can be compared to a child’s inability to grasp a complex scientific or spiritual concept.

A central question in the story of the mabul is why Hashem specifically chose to destroy the world through a flood. Hashem could have chosen any form of destruction, and yet, He chose water. Why?

Like Adam, each of us has our own unique creation story.

During the first stage of history, Hashem revealed Himself openly, and the world was replete with miracles, prophecy, and clarity. Little effort was required to find Hashem or to connect to that which is higher. This was the time of emes.

As human beings, we uniquely possess free will. We can know for a fact that something is wrong, and yet choose to do it anyway.

While this story is one of extraordinary commitment and loyalty, it is also one of utter foolishness.

When we live holistic lives, tapping into the true meaning of existence, life becomes a song, a magical and immersive experience.

Shana means that which is cyclical and repetitive, representing mindless ritual. However, shana also has another distinct meaning: to learn and to change (shinui, l’shanos). This is because when you add chiddush to shana, i.e., when you infuse newness into the circle, you create spiraling growth.

There may be nothing more enchanting, mystical, and mysterious than the wonder of music. It has the ability to reach the very root of our soul.