Community Stories

I call it a social experiment. Others call it brave. Some call it naive. I just call it necessary. I’ve set up a simple sign in public spaces.

I call it a social experiment. Others call it brave. Some call it naive. I just call it necessary. I’ve set up a simple sign in public spaces.

I call it a social experiment. Others call it brave. Some call it naive. I just call it necessary. I’ve set up a simple sign in public spaces.

I call it a social experiment. Others call it brave. Some call it naive. I just call it necessary. I’ve set up a simple sign in public spaces.

I call it a social experiment. Others call it brave. Some call it naive. I just call it necessary. I’ve set up a simple sign in public spaces.

I call it a social experiment. Others call it brave. Some call it naive. I just call it necessary. I’ve set up a simple sign in public spaces.

A Bar Mitzvah trip that missed the autograph but captured something far more meaningful. A reminder that presence matters more than perfect moments.

I came to Fiji to officiate a wedding, a beautiful love story. He was from Sydney, she from the United States, and they had brought family from all over the world to meet in this paradise.

I first met him at his grandson’s Bar Mitzvah. He was sitting near the front, quiet but deeply attentive. He was watching every word, every smile, and listening to every prayer.

I call it a social experiment. Others call it brave. Some call it naive. I just call it necessary. I’ve set up a simple sign in public spaces.

Since October 7, something shifted. In Israel. In the world. In all of us. There was grief. Anger. Fear. But also—this deep, almost unspoken need.

People often ask me: “What’s the most meaningful part of being a rabbi?” Is it the weddings? The Bat Mitzvahs? The holy days?

Their parents, now in their 90s, are about to celebrate an incredible milestone: 70 years of marriage. They were married just after the war. Life was fragile. Resources were few.

A few months after I launched Rabbi On Demand, my phone rang. The voice on the other end had a thick Russian accent. Then he asked, “Are you Orthodox?”

I had the honour of officiating one of the most beautiful and moving ceremonies I’ve ever been part of – and it wasn’t your typical wedding.

I had the privilege of officiating one of the most meaningful Bar Mitzvahs I’ve ever been part of – not in a synagogue, not in a fancy venue, but in the lounge of Montefiore aged care home.