People of the Book

Rabbi Menny Chazanow

Some ideas don't just teach you something, they expand your world. In People of the Book, Rabbi Menny Chazanow sits down with thinkers, scholars, and visionaries to explore the Jewish ideas that change how we think, feel, and live.

Episodes

  1. Oct 25

    The Healing at the Heart of Chassidus | Rav Simon Jacobson

    Is Chassidus concerned only with serving Hashem, or is it also meant to cultivate an inner state of well-being, presence, and alignment? And what if that inner transformation is itself part of avodas Hashem? In this episode of People of the Book, I sit down with Rav Simon Jacobson for an extended conversation about Chassidus, psychology, and what it means to bring the inner teachings of Torah into the inner life of a human being. This conversation grew out of a wider discussion within the Chabad community about the relationship between Chassidus and contemporary therapeutic language. I spoke separately with Rav Kesselman and Rav Jacobson to explore the nuances of each perspective and what each might teach us. For Rav Jacobson, bringing Chassidus into the person is central to its purpose. Its teachings about Hashem, the soul, and creation are meant to take shape within the human psyche—to transform how we think, feel, relate, and live. Inner alignment and mental health belong within avodas Hashem: bringing our minds, hearts, and actions into harmony with the divine purpose for which we were created. Rav Jacobson asks whether, in learning Chassidus, we too often focus on achdus Hashem, the unity of God, without attending to achdus ha’adam, unity within the person. If someone can explain the deepest concepts in Chassidus but has little to say about shalom bayis, loving another person, finding peace within themselves, or relating to their children with patience and warmth, what does that say about their learning? What does it mean to understand divine unity if that understanding never reaches the divisions within us or the relationships around us? We also explore psychedelics, spiritual seeking, and the hunger for meaning and connection that so many people are experiencing. What responsibility do teachers, communicators, and mashpiim have to respond to that hunger? How can they offer guidance that remains faithful to Torah while reaching the person who is searching?

  2. Oct 16

    Have We Turned Chassidus Into Self-Help? | Rav Sholom Kesselman

    A conversation has been unfolding recently within the Chabad community about the relationship between Chassidus and psychology, the place of therapy in a Chassidic life, and what happens when the teachings of Chassidus are translated into the language of contemporary emotional and psychological experience. These questions have generated considerable discussion, and I wanted to hear the different perspectives at greater length, directly from the people articulating them. So I sat down separately with Rav Sholom Kesselman and Rav Simon Jacobson for two extended conversations. This episode is my conversation with Rav Kesselman. My conversation with Rav Jacobson will be released shortly afterward. In both conversations, I've tried as much as possible to approach the discussion with an open mind and to give each perspective a fair hearing. Of course, like anyone approaching a subject they care deeply about, I have my own thoughts, intuitions, and feelings about these questions. But my intention has been less to argue for a particular position than to genuinely understand what each person is saying, what concerns animate their perspective, and what we might learn from taking those concerns seriously. As I listened to the conversation unfold, I kept hearing what seemed to me to be one remarkably simple question beneath everything else: Who, ultimately, is Chassidus about? Is its central subject the human being or Hashem? Is Chassidus fundamentally concerned with cultivating a particular kind of person—a particular inner world, emotional life, and state of consciousness—or is its ultimate concern the service of God? And perhaps the deeper question is whether these are really two divergent visions, or whether Chassidus understands the cultivation of the human being as inseparable from the service of Hashem. At the heart of the discussion is a fascinating question: What happens when we begin speaking about Chassidus in the language of therapy? For many people, words like presence, healing, and self-acceptance have made ideas they learned for years feel newly accessible. But words carry assumptions. When we translate a teaching into a different language, do we bring its meaning closer—or subtly change what it is asking of us? Rav Kesselman challenges the way teachings centered on serving Hashem can become centered on the self. I push back on how neatly we can separate those things in a person's actual life. If someone learns Chassidus and becomes more present with their children, more attentive to their spouse, and more able to connect with Hashem, where does psychological well-being end and avodas Hashem begin? We talk about the difference between bread and challah, what makes an insight about the human mind specifically Chassidic, and what we mean when we translate bittul. We also ask whether a new language can reveal something that was always present in a teaching but that we hadn't yet been able to hear. I found myself agreeing, disagreeing, and being caught off guard. My own sense is that this is a deeply nuanced subject, with sincere intentions and important concerns on different sides of the conversation. I don't think these questions are best approached as a contest with winners and losers. I think they're worth exploring patiently, thoughtfully, and in good faith. Ultimately, I believe conversations like these are not only necessary, but can deepen our appreciation for the inner dimension of Torah and its profound relevance to our lives. A note on the recording: We experienced some technical difficulties during this conversation. We chose to preserve that portion because we felt the conversation was worth sharing in full. We apologize for the imperfections and appreciate your patience and understanding.

  3. Aug 25

    Because It’s True: Courage, Conviction, and Being an Unapologetic Jew — with Shabbos Kestenbaum

    I’ve admired Shabbos Kestenbaum for a while. There are obvious reasons for this. He sued Harvard. He has become one of the most recognizable young Jewish voices in America. He is willing to walk onto stages where neither Jews nor Israel are especially welcome, wearing a yarmulke, and say plainly what he believes. But that isn’t really what I admire most about him. What I admire is his clarity. Shabbos seems to possess something increasingly rare: a willingness to decide what is true before deciding what it will cost him to say it. At one point in our conversation, I asked him where he gets his courage. He resisted the question. He doesn’t experience himself as courageous. When it comes to Israel, the Jewish people, and the 3,000-year-old story he inherited, he doesn’t feel that he is bravely defending some controversial position. He believes these things are true. He feels profoundly fortunate to belong to this story. And standing up for it is, as he puts it, simply “what you do.” I found that answer striking, because it gets at something deeper than courage. Courage suggests overcoming fear. Shabbos was describing something that comes before fear: knowing who you are. That became, for me, the thread running through our conversation. We spoke about his unusual childhood and Jewish upbringing; Harvard and October 8th; Israel; Kiddush Hashem; the story of Yonah; and what Jewish resistance actually looks like. Sometimes resistance means taking Harvard to court. But it can also mean wearing a Magen David. Dating Jewish. Learning Torah. Building a Jewish home. Becoming, quietly and deliberately, a little more Jewish than you were yesterday. And beneath all of it was a question I kept returning to: What happens when a person knows who he is deeply enough that he no longer needs the world’s permission to be it? This is a conversation about courage, although Shabbos might reject the word. It is a conversation about conviction, responsibility, Jewish pride, and the peculiar freedom that comes from knowing that your life belongs to a story that began long before you and, God willing, will continue long after you.

  4. Aug 5

    "Faith Is Not the Absence of Doubt" — with Rav Sholom Kesselman

    Almost everyone I know who takes their emunah seriously has, at some point, gone through a stretch where the ground felt less solid than they wanted to admit — not necessarily a crisis, just a season of questions that didn't come with tidy answers. I don't think we talk about that enough in our world. We speak about emunah as if it's something you either have or you don't, when for many people it's closer to a current running through a life: it moves, it gets tested, and it comes back different than it left. Rav Norman Lamm once defined emunah as "the continuous tension between itself and the doubt within itself." And the Alter Rebbe points out in Tanya that emunah shares its root with oman — the Hebrew word for artisan, for art. Emunah isn't a fact you accept once and set down. It's something practiced, something honed, something that grows in nuance and richness across the whole journey of a life. Rav Sholom Kesselman directs the OK on the West Coast and serves as a mashpia in the Chabad community here in Los Angeles. I deeply admire him for the clarity of his thinking — the depth and spaciousness he gives to nuanced ideas, and the precision with which he articulates them without ever flattening what makes them nuanced in the first place. That quality runs through this entire conversation. If it resonates with you, you'll find more of his thinking on his substack, Rethink. We don't resolve the tension neatly, because I don't believe it resolves neatly. But I want to say clearly, up front, what I hope this episode says on its own: if you've had questions about your faith, you are not broken, you are not alone, and there is room in Yiddishkeit for you and for your process. I hope you find this conversation as meaningful as I did.

Ratings & Reviews

5
out of 5
2 Ratings

About

Some ideas don't just teach you something, they expand your world. In People of the Book, Rabbi Menny Chazanow sits down with thinkers, scholars, and visionaries to explore the Jewish ideas that change how we think, feel, and live.

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