From Routine to Radiance: When Small Acts Become Sacred
This week’s parsha introduces the laws of inheritance—because of five remarkable women: the daughters of Tzelafchad. Here’s the claim they presented to Moshe:
“Our father died in the desert. He was not among Korach’s faction, who protested against G-d, but died because of his own sin. He left no sons. Why should our father’s name be diminished simply because he had no sons? Give us a portion of land along with our father’s brothers.”
(Bamidbar 27:1–5)
Moshe then brings their claim close to G-d.
Why does the Torah phrase it this way? Why not simply say Moshe brought their question before G-d or asked G-d? What does it mean that he brought it close?
One of the most important traits of a Jewish leader is the ability to see the spiritual dimension in the actions and questions of the people. Moshe didn’t see the daughters’ request as merely a financial or territorial matter. He recognized that it was spiritual—a heartfelt desire to preserve their father’s legacy in the Holy Land. That’s why he brought their claim close to G-d; he sensed that this was more than a legal question—it was an expression of faith, purpose, and connection to the land.
And Moshe was right. G-d Himself affirms their claim, saying:
“The daughters of Tzelafchad speak properly.”
(Bamidbar 27:7)
This moment teaches us a profound lesson: a true leader sees beneath the surface. Even mundane actions or questions can contain deep spiritual potential. And when they don’t, a leader may guide others to elevate them.`
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Two stories illustrate this idea.
A newly appointed Chassidic Rebbe once came to visit Rav Yaakov Kamenetsky zt”l (1891–1985), accompanied by a sizable group of Chassidim. As they crowded into the room and pressed forward, Rav Yaakov—accustomed to decorum—asked that they be seated and suggested they bring folding chairs from the basement.
One by one, each chassid went down, brought up a chair, unfolded it, and sat down.
After a few minutes, Rav Yaakov couldn’t help but comment.
“When someone schleps a chair from the basement and sits on it, he’s just a shlepper. But if he brings a chair for someone else, he becomes a kind person. The action is the same—but the intention transforms it. You can choose to just be a chair-shlepper, or you can become a giver.”
The Chofetz Chaim zt”l (1839–1933) once traveled by taxi with his son-in-law, Rav Tzvi Hirsch Levinson zt”l. Upon arriving, Rav Levinson immediately took out his wallet and paid the driver. The Chofetz Chaim sighed.
When asked why, he explained:
“There is a mitzvah in the Torah to pay a worker on time. If, before paying, you pause for even a moment and think about fulfilling that mitzvah, the simple act of paying becomes a spiritual opportunity. You can elevate it from something mundane to something meaningful—perhaps even magnificent.”
We have opportunities like this every day.
Take breakfast, for example. Billions of people eat breakfast each morning without thinking much about it. But if I pause and remember that I’m eating to give myself strength to care for my family, help others, work honestly, or learn Torah—then I’ve transformed eating into a mitzvah.
Similarly, when I pay someone who has completed a job—a plumber, a handyman, a house cleaner—I can stop for a moment and think: I am fulfilling the mitzvah of paying a worker on time. That simple awareness elevates the act.
I once told a Jewish appliance repairman that every time he fixes a washing machine, he has a unique opportunity. Even though he’s being paid, he’s doing a chessed. Imagine how stressful life becomes when the washer, dryer, or fridge breaks. By repairing it, he restores a family’s sense of calm and routine. That’s no small thing. With the right mindset, even turning a wrench becomes an act of kindness.
People often ask me, “How can I be more spiritual?” or “How can I lift myself out of the routine?”
One answer is simple: Look for the opportunities to elevate the everyday. They are all around us. We just need to notice them. With mindfulness and intention, we can transform routine actions into acts of holiness.
What is one seemingly mundane thing you do every day that you’re willing to transform into something magnificent?
Good Shabbos