Jeffrey Was Initially Too Angry to Put on Tefillin

By Rabbi Yisroel Bernath

Last week at JLI’s 19th National Jewish Retreat in Washington, DC, I had the privilege of hearing Jeffrey Warner share his story. I don’t use the word “privilege” lightly. His words pierced through the room, cutting right to the soul.

Jeffrey stood there and told us about a lifetime of feeling like he didn’t belong. He never went to Hebrew school. Never had a bar mitzvah. Never tasted the warmth of a Shabbos dinner. He grew up believing he was “not Jewish enough,” watching Judaism pass by from the outside. He described it so powerfully: “I didn’t lose my Jewish identity… I gave it away. Little by little. Every time I said, ‘I’m not that Jewish.’”

And then, one day, on campus at Arizona State University (ASU) in Arizona, someone asked him the eternal Chabad question: “Are you Jewish?” In that instant, everything changed. He put on tefillin for the first time, and a fellow student told him words that melted the walls of doubt: “You’re as Jewish as me. As Jewish as Moses.”

That moment cracked his heart wide open. It was the beginning of Jeffrey reclaiming what was always his. Through Sinai Scholars and the loving family built by Rabbi Shmuel Teichtel at Chabad at ASU, Jeffrey discovered that being Jewish isn’t about how much you know, it’s about how much you’re willing to learn. He found his voice, his strength, his purpose.

But life doesn’t move in straight lines.

Just as Jeffrey was climbing higher, the ground beneath him gave way. His mother’s battle with Multiple Sclerosis (MS) took a devastating turn. His father, his anchor, suffered a massive stroke. In a single moment, the man who once lifted Jeffrey onto his shoulders could no longer lift a spoon.

Jeffrey was broken. He initially boxed up his tefillin, his siddur, too angry to even look at them. He screamed at G-d: “This is my reward? After dedicating myself to You, this is what I get?”

And yet, this young man refused to let go.

He told us how every morning, strapping on tefillin felt like lifting a thousand pounds. But slowly, he discovered that those straps weren’t a weight, they were a rope. A rope pulling him out of despair, reminding him that Hashem doesn’t meet us in perfection; He meets us in the struggle.

With tears in his eyes, Jeffrey said, “Now, every morning when I wrap tefillin, I’m not just wrapping straps. I’m wrapping a promise that I’m never alone, that even in darkness, the Jewish soul carries its own light, and no one can extinguish it.”

Friends, Jeffrey’s story shook me. This is what it means to be a Jew. This is what it means to wrestle with G-d and come out with faith still burning.

This week, I sat down with Jeffrey for a late-night podcast conversation, 1:30 in the morning after the JLI Retreat. We spoke about life, love, relationships, and what it means to keep showing up even when life breaks you down. It’s not polished. It’s not scripted. It’s as raw and real as it gets. And I promise you, it will move you.

AUDIO: Listen here

But there’s more. This is not just a story to be heard, it’s a story to be answered. Jeffrey and his siblings are in an impossible situation. Their father is paralyzed. Their mother, battling MS. And both need round-the-clock care. And these three college students are left to carry it all.

Jeffrey has given us his heart. Now, it’s our turn to give him our hands.

Please, if Jeffrey’s story touched you, help his family in this urgent time. No gift is too small. Together, we can keep his parents safe and cared for, and give Jeffrey and his siblings the strength to keep moving forward.

Donate to the Warner Family GoFundMe

Jeffrey ended his speech with these words: “You were enough the moment you were born; the rest is just finding your way home.”

Let’s help him carry that light home.