![]()
Inside A Transformative Evening With Gedale Fenster And Rabbi Asher Vaknin
This past Tuesday night, the Bukharian Jewish community came together for an evening that felt different from the start. The program, titled “Time Of War, Time Of Peace,” was held l’iluy nishmat Eliezer HaCohen Meirov z"l, marking five years since his passing on April 20, 2021. You could feel right away that this wasn’t just another gathering.
Before anything began, Eliezer’s brother, Yosef, addressed the room. There was no script, no polished delivery—just real emotion. He thanked those who helped put the evening together, including his brother Daniel Meirov and his wife Esther, and his own wife Shifra. He also acknowledged their mother, Angela, sitting in the front after everything she’s been through, mentioning that this wasn’t the first time something like this had taken place—it’s been building, growing each time.
What he asked for was simple, but it stuck. Take one thing. Not ten ideas, not inspiration that fades by the next morning—one real change that you’ll actually carry with you. One thing that can elevate a neshamah.
At one point, the room was asked to stand and respond together with a short declaration of faith. It didn’t take long, but it changed the feel in the room. People weren’t just sitting anymore—they were part of it.
Rabbi Asher Vaknin opened with a message that didn’t sound complicated, but the more he spoke, the more it built. Love, he said, isn’t just something we say—it’s something we use. It’s a key. Actually, three keys.
The first is ahavat Yisrael. Loving another Jew in a real way, not only when it’s easy. He spoke about spouses, family, people in shul—and even the ones we don’t naturally get along with. He tied it directly to why we’re still in galus. Not because of what’s happening around us, but because of how we treat each other.
He shared the story of two brothers, Moshe and David. Moshe built a successful life overseas and distanced himself completely. When David came to see him, he wasn’t even acknowledged. Years later, standing by their father’s bed, it came out in one line: If my son doesn’t have a brother, then I don’t have a son. That was it. Nothing needed to be added.
Rabbi Vaknin connected this to Dovid HaMelech saying that Hashem listens to his prayers—explaining that it’s not automatic. When a person truly loves other Jews, that’s what opens the door. He added something practical too: instead of only davening for yourself, daven for someone else in the same situation.
He then moved to the second key, ahavat Torah. Not learning because you have to, but actually connecting to it. Torah, he said, is light. Without it, even smart people lose direction.
He shared a story about a man sitting in court with no lawyer, no real plan, just a sefer—the Tanya. The prosecutor noticed and asked what he was learning. When he told her, she paused—her name was also Tanya. Somehow that moment changed everything. The case was dismissed. It wasn’t presented as something dramatic, just a reminder that when a person is connected, things don’t always go the way you expect.
The third key was ahavat Torah. Not when life is working out—when it isn’t. He shared an account from October 7 about a 76-year-old woman locked in her safe room while terrorists were inside her home for nearly two days. Instead of panic, she kept repeating: “Hashem, I love You. I know You are good. I know You will save me.” She said it over and over. She survived. You could feel the room go quiet when he finished that story.
When Gedale Fenster—a Miami-based entrepreneur and motivational speaker known for his classes on practical emunah—got up, the tone shifted. Rabbi Vaknin built the foundation; Fenster went straight into what to actually do with it.
He opened with something that hit right away: a lot of what we’re dealing with isn’t just the situation—it’s how we’re reacting to it. Then he said it straight—stop blaming the messenger. The people and situations that trigger us aren’t random. If you don’t get the message, you stay stuck in the mess.
From there, he broke things down in a way that felt very real. Stop focusing on who caused the problem. Start working on how you’re responding. Build yourself to the point where you can believe there’s a purpose behind what you’re going through—even if you don’t fully feel it yet.
He kept coming back to one thing: say it out loud. What you hold inside doesn’t disappear—it builds. Speaking, whether it’s to Hashem or just being honest with yourself, is what starts to release it. Otherwise, it just sits there and affects everything.
He offered practical tools to shift that mindset. Instead of facing a challenge alone, he suggested changing the language from “I have a problem” to “Hashem, we have an issue,” making the Creator a partner in the process. He also spoke about dealing with fear by not running from it, but leaning into it—accepting even the worst-case scenario so it loses its hold. And when the urge to delay or give up creeps in, he shared a simple tactic: do the work today, and tell yourself you’ll take the day off tomorrow.
He also made it clear that a person isn’t meant to stay stuck. You’re not supposed to live in “Mitzrayim.” If you don’t work through something, it comes back—same lesson, different version.
A big part of what he spoke about was energy. You can tell where you’re holding by how you feel. If you’re constantly anxious, frustrated, drained—something’s off. If there’s clarity, even a little calm, that’s a sign you’re more aligned. As he put it, you can’t stay in fear and expect things to work out. At one point he added that people want a touchdown pass while they’re still on the one-yard line. It got a reaction because it’s exactly how people think.
He connected this to Sefirat HaOmer, explaining that these days are meant for real work. Each week focuses on something else, and this week—Netzach—is about pushing through and not giving up.
He also spoke about timing. You can’t force results, and you don’t control how things play out. The more you try to rush it, the more resistance you create. The focus has to be on doing the work, not controlling the outcome. When you do that, you start to see that the solution is already inside the problem. And if a person wants a certain brachah, they have to start living with that mindset—carrying themselves with that kind of clarity and confidence.
When it ended, there wasn’t any big closing moment. People just got up—some talking, some quiet—but you could tell they were thinking. The title, “Time Of War, Time Of Peace,” felt different by then. Not just about what’s going on in the world, but what’s going on inside a person.
And it went back to what was said at the beginning. Take one thing. If someone actually does that, then the night doesn’t just end when you walk out.
By Shabsie Saphirstein
What Happens When We Stop Blaming The Messenger?
Typography
- Smaller Small Medium Big Bigger
- Default Helvetica Segoe Georgia Times
- Reading Mode
