I want to begin simply by saying thank you.
It is actually hard for me to believe that for eleven years now, I have written to you every single week. When I refer to all of you as the Aish family, I truly mean it. After eleven years of sharing thoughts, struggles, dreams, challenges, inspiration, and life together, I genuinely feel like we are in constant conversation.
In thirty-five years of working with the Jewish community, one lesson has become clearer to me than ever before: families have to be honest with each other. Families have to be open with each other. Families stand together through blessings and through challenges.
Last week, I shared with you some of the financial realities we are facing this year. After more than a decade of incredible growth and expansion, we hit some very real challenges because of the dramatic strengthening of the shekel against the dollar. Since our donations come primarily in dollars while our expenses are in shekels, the impact has been enormous.
An article in eJewishPhilanthropy highlighted these challenges publicly last week. To be honest, I was nervous about it. None of us enjoys having struggles discussed publicly. Every family and every business faces difficult moments. Usually, those moments stay private. When they become public, it can feel much harder.
What happened afterward completely overwhelmed me.
I have never felt more loved.

So many of you reached out with understanding, encouragement, kindness, and support. One leader of a major Jewish organization actually called me and jokingly said, “Mazel tov. Aish has officially arrived. Every major Israeli organization is dealing with this challenge right now, yet they chose you because of your global importance”.
I laughed because there was truth in it.
This is not an issue that is unique to Aish. This is affecting organizations across Israel. After two and a half years of war, rising costs, economic pressure, donor fatigue, and the weakening of the dollar against the shekel, many incredible institutions are struggling deeply.
Some may not survive this period.
What moved me most were the phone calls and messages, but even more than that, a number of you simply sent donations after reading my email, completely unsolicited. I cannot adequately express how emotional that was for me.
You understood.
You understood how hard our team works for the Jewish people every single day. You understood that virtually every segment of the Jewish world is touched by Aish in some way. Through Aish.com. Through social media. Through podcasts. Through our yeshiva and seminary. Through leadership programs. Through outreach. Through Torah learning. Through the chessed that Aish does. Through content. Through inspiration.
I felt your love deeply.
Thank you.
Thank you for believing in us.
Thank you for standing with us.
Thank you for caring enough to act.
If there is any way you are able to help right now, this would be an enormously meaningful moment to do so. Every donation matters to us. Truly. Whether it is five dollars or five thousand dollars, every single gift is treasured because every gift represents partnership, love, and belief in the Jewish future.
I also want to make a broader appeal.
Please look carefully at your tzedakah priorities right now and recognize how many Israeli institutions are struggling. This goes far beyond Aish. The combination of war, inflation, economic instability, and the shekel crisis is creating enormous pressure throughout Israel.
Our community has to step up for one another.
At the same time, I also believe challenges create opportunities.
This moment has forced us to become even more focused, more efficient, and more innovative. We are examining every part of our organization carefully. We are integrating AI across virtually every aspect of what we do. We are rethinking systems, content distribution, education, communication, and operations. In many ways, Hashem is pushing us to grow stronger and smarter.
I genuinely believe we are emerging from this more focused than ever before.
Thank you again for your support, your concern, your kindness, and your love. I truly feel the strength of family.
One thing I always want you to know is that when you reply to these emails, they come directly to me. There are no handlers. No filters. I read your messages personally, and I am always deeply moved by them.
This week, I made a very quick trip to Israel to continue working on many of these issues. I was blessed to be there for Lag B’Omer, which always carries deep emotion for me.

Every Lag B’Omer, I think about my dear friends, the Morris family, whose beautiful son Donny tragically lost his life at Meron several years ago. Donny was one of the most extraordinary young men I have ever known. Lag B’Omer has become a time when I reflect deeply on his life, his greatness, and the impact one soul can have on the world in such a short amount of time.

At the same time, Lag B’Omer at Aish has also become one of the most uplifting nights of the year.
Our seminary has grown into something truly extraordinary. The caliber of young women coming through our doors is inspiring beyond words. Since leadership and chesed are central values at Aish, the seminary created a beautiful tradition several years ago: every year, the students organize and create a dream wedding for a deserving couple.
This year was no exception.

The girls do everything themselves. Flowers. Food. Makeup. Decorations. Logistics. Music. Everything from beginning to end.

This year’s couple was especially beautiful. The Chassan’s family came from Germany. The kallah originally came from America. Both had grown tremendously in their Judaism, and now they were building a Jewish home together.
The wedding took place on the roof of Aish overlooking the Temple Mount and the Kotel. It was breathtaking. Joyous dancing. Singing. Holiness. Love. Jewish destiny unfolding right in front of us.

Late that night, I was sitting in my office thinking everyone had already gone home when I heard a knock on the door.
It was the parents of the chassan.
They were emotional beyond words. They told me they never could have imagined something like this. Coming from Germany, moving to Israel, adapting to an entirely different culture, and then watching their son get married overlooking the holiest place in the world.
The father hugged me tightly and thanked me over and over again.
Afterward, I walked them down toward the Kotel so they could say a prayer there together.
It is moments like these that remind you what Jewish life is really about.
Being there for one another.
Creating belonging.
Creating dignity.
Creating love.

Someone sent me a TikTok video this week that moved me tremendously. It showed a graduation ceremony at the Air Force Academy where graduates stand at attention until a family member or friend comes to “tap them out” after graduation.
One young man stood there alone. Everyone around him had family. Everyone had someone.
He had nobody.
Then suddenly, a fellow cadet fought his way through the crowd just to tap him out so he would not stand there alone.
The two embraced and cried together.
That moment stayed with me because loneliness is one of the deepest pains a human being can feel.
This is exactly who we are supposed to be as Jews.
We are supposed to notice the person standing alone.
We are supposed to walk over to the person who enters a synagogue not knowing anyone.
We are supposed to invite people for Shabbat.
We are supposed to send someone an Aish.com article on Friday and say, “I thought you might enjoy this.”
We are supposed to reach out.
We are supposed to care.
Every Jew in the world today feels some level of loneliness right now. Antisemitism. Hatred. Isolation. The craziness online. The constant attacks against Israel and the Jewish people.
The only thing that has ever carried us through history is each other.
We need achdus now more than ever.
This week, I was also contacted by several major news outlets after President Trump said during Jewish Heritage Month that people should take on keeping Shabbat.
They asked me what I thought.
I told them I thought it was beautiful.
Because at the end of the day, Judaism is not merely an identity. Judaism is a living religion. Religion requires ritual. It requires a connection. It requires sacred time.
What is so remarkable is that long before electricity, long before phones, long before social media, Hashem already knew humanity would one day desperately need a break from the noise.
Shabbat forces us to put away the phones.
Shabbat forces us to reconnect with each other.
Shabbat forces us to remember who we are.
The fact that a world leader publicly acknowledged the beauty and importance of Shabbat is extraordinary.
I spoke this week with my dear friend Rabbi Warren Goldstein, who founded the Shabbat Project and has inspired so much of the world to reconnect with Shabbat. We both agreed how unprecedented and meaningful this moment feels.

So let us enter this Shabbat with gratitude, strength, joy, and unity.
Let us take care of one another.
Let us notice one another.
Let us stand beside one another.
Our best days are still ahead of us.
The Jewish people will continue to shine.
We will continue to lead.
We will continue to inspire the world.
We will continue to be a light unto the nations.
Wishing all of my brothers and sisters across the globe an incredible, beautiful, passionate Shabbat Shalom.





