We moved to Hampstead when I was in early elementary. Now some of my friends were Jewish but not observant. I went to public school.
There was a brief window where I considered becoming more religious. I convinced my parents to sign me up for Beis Rivkah for grade 7. They actually agreed and I was fully enrolled and even worked with a tutor to catch up. But before the year started, someone talked my parents out of it, and I didn't go.
To me, that ship sailed. I accepted that I wasn't going to attend a Jewish school and that my level of observance would remain the same. Deep within me, there was a feeling that I wanted more, but I pushed it aside it with socializing and excelling in school, trying to infuse some kind of meaning in my life.
Fast forward to my early twenties, when I went away to grad school in Amherst, Massachusetts — a distinctly liberal college town where the air was fair trade and the sunset was organic. I assumed that since it was a crunchy, hippy place, it was a wholesome place, and since I was so used to living a secular life and taking it easy on Shabbos, I figured I could do it all on my own.
After the first very lonely Shabbos, i realized that this was not going to work. Shabbos on my own just didn’t have the same effect on me. I called the nearby shluchim, the Kravitskys, and asked to stay with them. They lovingly welcomed me every Shabbos after that for two years.
Shabbos at the Kravitskys was always bustling. My first week, a few dozen students and three families stayed with them, including the Rabbi’s dear friend, hip-hop singer Matisyahu. I remember watching him pray. He was a mainstream singer but at the time he was so inspired.
During a talk to the students, Rabbi Kravitsky said precisely what I needed to hear: “We need to let G-d into every aspect of our lives because our souls yearn to bring light into every situation we’re in. It’s not the case that sometimes we do holy things and other times we work, or live our life. We need to recognize HaShem’s involvement in every part of our lives. Weekend, weekday it makes no difference.”
He referenced the Chassidic concept of Dirah Betachtonim—a dwelling place for HaShem in the lowest realms. Chassidus teaches that our mission is to infuse the mundane with holiness, elevate every moment, and recognize the Divine spark in all aspects of life.
That moment was my turning point. I realized I had always felt like I was living a double life—Jewish on Shabbos and just like everyone else the rest of the week. It had always felt wrong, but now I understood that my weekdays had a holy purpose too. I was empowered and inspired to try to live one cohesive life... with HaShem in the picture.
After havdala at the Kravitskys Chabad house I didn't rush back to my "weekday self." Instead, I went to Matisyahu's concert with the same friends I had spent Shabbos with, wearing my Shabbos clothes—and it felt right.
Since then, Shabbos hasn't been just a spiritual vacation. While it remains an opportunity to connect more deeply with my true self, I now bring that connection into the rest of the week.
The next thing I learned was that creating a dwelling place for HaShem in this world is not about the reward. I had a hard time identifying with the statement from the Alter Rebbe when he said to HaShem, "I don’t want your World to Come, I just want You." I remember thinking whats my reward for not thinking about the reward?
But now I realize that I’m a partner. Imagine being part of a company. As an employee, sometimes you’re motivated and other times not. If you get a good raise, you’re motivated, but if something else comes up that’s interesting, you might not be committed anymore—that’s an employee. Now imagine a partner. They want the company to succeed because it’s their company.
I now try to recognize that I am a partner with HaShem. Creating a dwelling place for Him in this world is our mission.
And speaking of partners, I recently heard something from Rabbi Shais Taub that really resonated with me. He was saying that being an observant Jew in society nowadays makes no sense. It doesn’t add up. Consider the financial aspect of having tons of guests over every week eating expensive kosher food, private Jewish school tuition for multiple kids, summer camps, orthodontics, etc. Even the amount of time, energy, and patience you need for a large family—it’s not possible. Unless you have a partner, and that partner is the beyond infinite HaShem. HaShem is the third partner in my marriage. HaShem is the third parent for my children. With HaShem as my partner, anything is possible.
So I can be His partner, elevating the world with my mitzvos. Sometimes it’s not so hard to do. A blessing before eating food—it’s one line. A few coins to tzedakah. Acts of kindness to everyone. It’s really not so hard.
The Rebbe truly believed in our potential. During a farbrengen once in the early years he wept when he said that we only have a limited number of years, weeks, hours, and minutes on this earth. What will we do with this time? The Rebbe believed in us that we can seize every moment for the good.
So I can do these Mitzvos happily as often as I can but eventually I had this thought that really bothered me, if HaShem is my partner then why does he let me make mistakes? I've made plenty of mistakes.
Consider for a moment what it truly means to set aside our own needs in a relationship out of love. It involves allowing others to make mistakes without the need to say "I told you so," or accepting their differing opinions without insisting that they're wrong. It means giving them the freedom to explore, to return, to succeed, and to ask questions, all without making them feel inadequate. It involves feeling their emotions with them, without trying to fix everything. Sometimes, it requires us to remain silent, even when we desperately want to intervene or offer our advice. Creating space for someone to be different from us means fully accepting and trusting them as they are, without trying to change them. This isn't easy for me.
Yet, HaShem sets the ultimate example by stepping aside completely, allowing me to grow and find my own path, to make my own mistakes and learn from them. By making space for me, HaShem shows his absolute trust. As we say every morning in Modeh Ani – "Great is Your faith (in me)."
As I stand before you today, I am reminded that each one of us has the potential to bring the light of Chassidus into our lives.
By embracing this partnership with HaShem, we can elevate every moment, every action, and every interaction to create a world filled with holiness and divine presence. This is the dwelling place down here that I first heard about at Rabbi Kravitsky’s Chabad house.
May we all be inspired to live our lives with the awareness that we are never alone, this is a 24/7 job, but we have HaShem as our partner.
