Toldot: Pain and Birth
These Torah thoughts are dedicated to the memory of Rabbi Tzvi Kogan z”l, a Chabad emissary who served the Jewish community in the UAE. His work symbolized the strength and beauty of Jewish hospitality and the power of multifaith connection, especially in the wake of the Abraham Accords. Rabbi Hogan helped to organize Jewish life in a region where community bridges are being built with courage and love. Tragically, he was murdered this past week, leaving behind a family and community that mourns deeply. His story reminds us, once again, that the differences we feel within our Jewish family often fade in the face of a world that doesn’t distinguish between us. Friends, if you know a Chabad rabbi or couple in your community, reach out to them. Show them the kind of strength and love they consistently show to us all. And let us amplify Chabad’s very Jewish message: Be prouder, louder, and more visibly Jewish. As Chanukah approaches in just a few weeks, consider placing a bigger menorah in your window. Invite your neighbors — Jewish and non-Jewish alike — into your home, into your light.
Just this past Shabbat weekend, my precious wife Neshama and I were privileged to celebrate with the Jewish Studio in Bethesda, Maryland, where the Scotland AME Zion Church choir joined in song. Together, we felt God in the room. In a time when the news often feels unbearably harsh, the simple act of building relationships — even when tested — remains urgent and necessary. It is how we build this world from love, together.
This week’s Torah portion, Toldot, offers us a deep challenge. Rebecca and Isaac, yearning for children, pray for a future filled with possibility. When Rebecca becomes pregnant, the pain she feels leads her to cry out: “If so, why do I exist? (Gen. 25:22)” She seeks God, and God tells her that the struggle she feels is not the end, but the beginning — birth is painful (Gen. 25:23).
Rebecca’s cry resonates with us today. We feel the pain of a world in turmoil and wonder, “Why does it have to be this way?” And yet, when we form a new friendship, when we reach out in love, we glimpse God’s answer: It doesn’t have to be this way. Birth is painful, but it is also transformative.
Our Jewishness — the biggest, brightest, and most demanding part of us — is not a barrier but a bridge. Judaism begins with the story of the world, not just our people, and reminds us that God’s concern is universal. Feeling pain is perhaps the most godly experience of all because it calls us to action. It is not good for us to be alone, and so we are called to find each other, again and again.
Today, let us honor Rabbi Kogan’s memory by choosing to act. Do one mitzvah — just one new act of kindness you hadn’t planned. Hold a door for someone. Give tzedakah. Learn Torah. Make a friend. Heal this planet. Who knows the ripple effect that one mitzvah can create?
As we close, I ask you to take a moment to bless the memory of Rabbi Tzvi Kogan z”l and his family with strength and healing. And then, decide: What mitzvah will you do today? Let us, together, build this world from love — again, and again, and again.
Amen.