Rabbi's Blog

Last night, we witnessed valor across generations.

In a sold-out room of 260 people, two Jewish women — from two very different stages of life — stood before our community and reminded us what courage, responsibility, and leadership look like in real time.

More than a gala, it was a moment. 

This week’s parsha opens with words that suddenly felt less ancient and more immediate:

“ויקחו לי תרומה” — Take for Me an offering.

In Parshas Terumah, Hashem commands the Jewish people to build the Mishkan — the first sanctuary, a dwelling place for the Divine Presence. But it would not be built through obligation or taxation. It would be built through generosity. Through hearts moved to give. And our sages teach something striking: The women led. They gave first. They gave eagerly. They understood instinctively that building a sanctuary is not about materials — it is about responsibility.

Last night at Boca Beach Chabad’s 2026 Women of Valor of Dinner, we witnessed a modern-day Terumah. A community gathered not merely to attend, but to affirm that when women lead, sanctuaries rise. We honored two women of valor from two generations — distinct in expression, united in purpose.

Billi Marcus represents the generation that builds foundations. For decades, alongside her husband Bernie Marcus, her philanthropy has strengthened hospitals, educational institutions, Jewish causes, and humanitarian initiatives across the country. During her deeply emotional tribute to Bernie, one could feel that their giving was never merely charitable. It was covenantal. It was partnership rooted in responsibility. Terumah teaches that if you are blessed, you build. If you are entrusted with resources, you create sanctuaries. Billi’s life reflects that truth.

But valor does not only construct. It also declares.

Montana Tucker’s presentation electrified the room. She spoke about standing proudly as a Jew in an age of rising antisemitism — not only undeterred by hate, but motivated by it. Strengthened by it. Determined to be even more visible. Her decision to wear a yellow ribbon dress to the Oscars was not fashion. It was moral clarity. She shared how major Jewish celebrities privately tell her they are proud and supportive — yet hesitate to speak publicly. Her challenge to them is simple: Be louder. Be clearer. Be prouder. She is using her platform not for comfort, but for calling. Not for applause, but for peoplehood.

Providentially, before the evening, as part of the opening video presentation featuring the Rebbe that set the tone for the evening, we had selected a 1991 exchange between the Rebbe and Miss Israel, Miri Goldfarb, to frame Montana’s role. In that encounter, the Rebbe told her that her title was not about beauty alone. It was a platform — an opportunity to spread light and holiness — and he urged her to share that responsibility with the other contestants.

And then something remarkable happened.

Providentially, seated in the room last night was Israel’s current Miss Israel, Melanie Shiraz — (who once served as President of Chabad at Berkeley during her college years.) A young woman who understands that visibility and conviction can coexist. She was recognized and presented with a Women of Valor necklace — a quiet but powerful symbol linking title to purpose.

In that moment, the message from 1991 was no longer archival.

It was alive.

Montana Tucker and Melanie Shiraz are, in different ways, modern expressions of Queen Esther. Two young, visible Jewish women. Two women who found themselves in positions of prominence they may not have planned. Two women who chose not comfort — but courage.

Queen Esther did not seek the palace. Yet Mordechai’s words still echo:

“ומי יודע אם לעת כזאת הגעת למלכות”
Who knows if it was not for this very moment that you were made queen?

Position is not accidental. Platform is not neutral. It is entrusted.

If Billi Marcus reflects Terumah — building sanctuaries through generosity — then Montana and Melanie reflect Esther — stepping into royalty and role for the sake of the Jewish people.

The Mishkan was built through gold and silver. But its true materials were courage and generosity. Last night, we saw both. Builders who create institutions that heal and sustain, and voices who project pride and strengthen identity.

The Jewish future requires both. It requires roots. And it requires wings.

When Jewish women give, sanctuaries rise. When Jewish women stand tall, a nation finds its voice. That is valor. And last night, we saw it — across generations.

Good Shabbos and Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Ruvi New

Dedicated in honor of the marriage of Sara to Levi Solomon

The Torah portion of Mishpatim is known for its detailed civil laws, yet within it appears a deeply personal passage often referred to as Mishpat HaBanos—the framework outlining a husband’s essential obligations to his wife. From these verses flow the three pillars later codified in the Kesuvah: mazon, levush, and onah—food, clothing (including shelter and protection), and intimacy.

These seem purely practical commitments. But in truth, they describe the architecture of a home.

Mazon is nourishment—sustaining life itself.
Levush is dignity and protection—the environment in which life flourishes.
Onah is closeness—emotional and physical intimacy, the bond that transforms coexistence into unity.

Under the chuppah, the groom commits to all three. The question naturally arises: how can anyone guarantee such provision with certainty? The answer lies in the spiritual reality of that sacred moment. The chuppah is a portal of unbounded Divine generosity. An abundant flow of bracha accompanies a new Jewish home at its inception.

Yet the Torah is not only about beginnings—it is about continuity. How is that flow sustained?

Our sages teach that two forces keep the channels of blessing open.

First is simcha—joy. The joy of the bride and groom, and equally the joy of the guests who celebrate with them. Joy is not decorative; it is generative. It expands the vessel that holds blessing. When a wedding is celebrated wholeheartedly, that shared happiness becomes part of the couple’s spiritual foundation. The dancing, the singing, the heartfelt good wishes—they are not fleeting moments. They become enduring channels through which bracha continues to flow.

Second is honor and respect. The Gemara teaches that blessing rests in a home where the wife is honored. Respect creates spiritual alignment; it invites abundance. When dignity and sensitivity define a marriage, they reinforce the original covenant established beneath the chuppah.

What is true within marriage is also true in our relationship with Hashem.

Hashem, as it were, commits Himself to provide us with mazon, levush, and onah.

Mazon on a spiritual level is Torah as nourishment—its revealed teachings that feed our intellect and guide our daily lives. Just as physical food becomes part of the body, Torah internalized becomes part of who we are.

Levush is the protective garment of mitzvos and the deeper teachings of Chassidus, which clothe our lives with meaning and shield us with perspective. They provide spiritual warmth and dignity in a complex world.

Onah is intimacy—the experiential closeness we feel in tefillah, in moments of sincerity, in the quiet awareness that Hashem is not distant but present. It is the bond that turns observance into relationship.

Marriage, then, is a living metaphor for covenant. And covenant is sustained through joy and honor.

Now that the wedding celebration has passed, we are filled with gratitude. To every friend, family member, and guest who traveled, danced, sang, and rejoiced with us—thank you. Your joy did not end beneath the chuppah or on the dance floor. Our sages teach that the happiness of those who gladden the bride and groom becomes a conduit for ongoing blessing in their lives. Your simcha helped open the channels of bracha—and continues to sustain them.

May the shared joy we experienced together ripple outward, strengthening Sara and Levi’s home and drawing continued abundance from Above.

And may we all merit to experience in our own lives the full measure of mazon, levush, and intimacy—both in our homes and in our relationship with Hashem—sustained through joy, dignity, and enduring blessing.

Good Shabbos and Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Ruvi New