This week, like so many across Israel, I found myself running to a shelter.

It is a strange experience — one that compresses time. In seconds, the noise of daily life disappears, replaced by urgency, instinct, and a quiet, shared tension among strangers and family alike.

And then, just as suddenly, there is silence.

It is in that silence that a deeper question emerges:

This Shabbat, we read Tzav and mark Shabbat HaGadol — and it feels as though the Torah is speaking directly into this moment.

At the center of Tzav is a simple yet profound command:

“A continuous fire shall burn on the altar — it must not go out.”

In quieter times, this may feel like ritual detail. Today, it feels like instruction.

For much of my life, I have understood this idea through the discipline of sport.

In karate, where I began my international journey as a young Australian athlete at the Maccabiah and then after years of training in Japan,  there is a deep emphasis on repetition — on showing up, day after day, to train, refine, and strengthen both body and mind.

There is no applause in repetition.

But that is where resilience is built.

And that is what leadership looks........

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)