Transcript
Auto-generated transcript. Not time-synced to the video.
[music]
>> This is a video for the [music] people
who never get videos. For the people who
never get honored. For the people nobody
notices. For the people who get eye
rolls instead of applause. For the
people who secretly think they're
failures. This is a video for the
teenagers fighting a war with the
internet every single day and wondering
if there's anything left of their
nishamos. This is a video for the Bas
Yakov girl who looks fine on the outside
but feels absolutely nothing on the
inside. This is a video for the people
who struggle with Shabbos. Who struggle
with Torah. Who struggle with tefillah.
This is a video for the divorced man who
once had the big house, [music] the
family pictures, the dream, and now
sleeps on a mattress in a one room
basement. This is a video for the 32
year old single woman who smiled through
weddings and smiled [music] through
Shabbos meals and smiled through
conversations while carrying a pain that
few can understand. This is a video for
the couple in year seven [music]
of infertility. The couple that says
everything's okay when everything is
very much not okay. This is a video for
the man who took a job he hates because
his family needed him to. [music] The
man driving home from work in Delaware
sitting in traffic staring through the
windshield wondering, [music] is this
really my life? Feeling all alone,
feeling unseen, feeling unaccomplished,
watching old friends become Rosh Yeshiva
and Rosh Chaburas and Rabbonim, watching
others accomplish things he once dreamed
of accomplishing, wondering where
exactly his own dreams went and yet
after a full day of carrying the weight
of a family on his shoulders. He pulls
into the parking lot of a Beis Medrash,
opens a Gemara, and learns. This is a
video for the Yeshiva bochur in second
year Beis Medrash who can't stand Gemara
anymore, but he shows up anyway. This is
a video for the baal teshuva who shocked
his family at age 18 and [music] became
religious. The one who turned his entire
world upside down for Hashem. Who became
a stranger in his own home. Who sat at a
family gathering like a guest, who
couldn't eat at his own parents' table,
the man who feels like he never fits in
no matter where he goes, the man who
spent years building a life from
scratch, years learning what others
inherited, years figuring out alone what
others had handed to them, the one who
spent a decade searching for a shidduch,
the one who spent years and decades of
awkward conversations and decades of
disappointments and decades of watching
everyone else move through life with
ease, the one who had every reason in
the world to look heaven straight in the
eye and say, "Hashem, I gave up
everything for you. I left behind my
friends for you. I left behind comfort
for you. I left behind the life I knew
for you, and this is what I get?" And
yet he never says it. Instead, he gets
up and he goes to daven. He learns, he
builds, he keeps believing, he keeps
keeps showing up, not because it's easy,
not because he's celebrated, but because
somewhere deep inside he decided that
Hashem is worth serving no matter what.
This is a video for him.
This is a video for the man who made one
terrible mistake, one foolish, stupid
decision, and now he sits alone in
prison for years and years and years,
not one visitor, not one phone call. His
wife is gone, his reputation is gone,
his future is crushed. And yet every
morning he wraps his tefillin around his
arm, every day he opens a sefer, [music]
every day he cries his way through
Shmoneh Esrei. This is a video for him.
This is a video for the widow who just
buried her husband, the woman staring at
an unknown future, the woman who wants
to collapse, [music] the woman who wants
to scream, the woman who wants to
disappear, but instead doesn't just live
her life, she gets up and she roars
through life, she sings through life,
and somehow keeps on going.
This is a video for the man who hasn't
slept in 3 years [music] because he's
drowning in debt and yet walks into shul
every day with a smile. This is a video
for the man who gets up and walks into
seder every morning despite being mocked
by his family, the very people who
should have been his biggest supporters,
where every day he hears, "When are you
going to get a real job? When are you
going to get a real job?" The man who
gets treated like the family failure
[music] for choosing a life of Torah,
the man who despite the ridicule and
despite the insults and despite treating
like a disappointment, despite being
financially cut off from his family,
despite being told he's wasting his
life, he walks into seder carrying
wounds that nobody sees and he walks in
[music] anyway. This is a video for the
girl who's downloaded Instagram 100
times and deleted it 101 times. The girl
who has made the same kabbalah over and
over and over and over again, who has
cried the same tears and fought the same
battle and fallen into the same pit and
yet gets up anyway. The girl who
desperately wants to be holy, who
desperately wants to be pure, who
desperately wants to be the person she
knows she can be and despite all the
fails and despite all the frustration
and despite all the moments she looked
into the mirror and felt like a nothing,
she keeps on fighting. This is a video
for her.
This is a video
for the bochur who gets compared to his
brother every day of his life, the
brother who learns better, the brother
who davens better, the brother who
speaks better, the brother who acts
better, the bochur who walked into the
base medrish and despite feeling behind
and feeling like he doesn't belong and
feeling like everyone else gets it
except him, [music] he shuts his mouth,
he rolls up his sleeves, and he opens
his gemara and he tries yet again.
[music]
This is a video for the husband and wife
whose child left Yiddishkeit, who
managed to smile through the Shabbos
seudah while carrying a heartbreak they
never imagined they would have to carry.
The husband and wife who simultaneously
live in a world of zemirot and Torah and
shul and a world of rehab and fear and
uncertainty and unanswered phone calls
and terrifying phone calls and eyes
swollen with tears. The husband and wife
who drive hours just to spend a few
minutes with their son, who sit beside
him in treatment centers and stare at
their phones every day hoping his name
will appear. The husband and wife who
never stop worrying and never stop
loving and never stop waiting. The
husband and wife who sit at a simcha and
wonder if he's okay. They sit through a
Shabbos meal and wonder where he's
sleeping that night. The husband and
wife who have become experts at hiding
pain, who learned how to smile while
their hearts are breaking, [music]
who learned how to say baruch Hashem
while carrying questions they cannot
answer. Who they walk into shul and hear
others discussing their children's
accomplishments while they sit at home
while silently wondering whether their
own child is even alive. The husband and
wife who have shed oceans of tears that
nobody knows about and despite all the
fear and despite all the disappointment
and despite all the embarrassment and
the endless ache they keep showing up
for Hashem and serving with pride. This
is a video for them.
This is a video for the ger who left
behind his entire world, his family, his
friends, his [music] comfort, his
everything and wonders if anyone
understands what that cost. This is a
video for the woman battling [music]
anxiety so intense that getting out of
bed feels like climbing a mountain and
yet she gets up and she gets dressed and
she shows up to life without anyone
realizing what she conquered that
morning. This is a video for her.
This is a video for the [music] parents
whose child has special needs, the
parents who never get a day off, who
never get a break, who never get
applause, but keep carrying the load
anyway.
This is a video
for the man sitting in the back of the
shul
because he's embarrassed by what he's
become. And this is also a video for the
man sitting in the back of the shul
because he's embarrassed about what he
didn't become.
This is a video for the person who has
davened to Hashem for the same thing for
40 straight years and it keeps [music]
on dominating. This is a video for the
people who cry in their car before
walking into a simcha. The people who
cry in the shower. The people who cry
into their pillows. This is a video for
the people fighting battles that nobody
can see. The people battling ADD and
ADHD and anxiety and depression and OCD
and PTSD and bulimia and anorexia. The
people with lists. The people who
stutter. The people battling obsessive
thoughts. The people battling panic
attacks. The people battling loneliness.
The people battling addictions. The
people battling grief. The people
battling memories that they wish they
could forget. The people battling minds
that refuse to give them even one minute
of peace. The people who wake up
exhausted before the day even begins.
The people from whom getting out of bed
is already a victory. The people who
spend all day fighting a war that nobody
around them even knows exists. The
people who hear, "You seem fine." when
they're anything but fine. The people
who smile and show up and function and
perform and produce and then [music]
collapse the moment nobody is looking.
The people who have every reason to quit
and every reason to give up and every
reason to surrender and yet don't. They
wake up every morning and they pick up
their sword and they march right back
into the battlefield, bruised and
bleeding and exhausted, but still
fighting and still believing and still
serving Hashem with strength no one
sees. This is a video for you. Because
when you imagine Mashiach coming on that
long-awaited day, when Klal Yisrael
floods the streets and we're all craning
our necks to get a glimpse of our
long-awaited Mashiach, you probably
picture yourself in the back. Behind the
Rosh Yeshiva, behind the Rabbanim,
behind the Gvirim, behind the people who
seem all successful. Behind the people
who seem all put together. Behind the
people everyone assumes will be front
and center. And you tell yourself,
"They're the ones who will greet
Mashiach first, not me." Like Mashiach
isn't coming for me. Me? The guy
struggling online? Me? The girl who
hasn't davened in years? Me? The guy who
works while my brothers are still
learning? Me, the divorced guy who is
embarrassed to walk into shul?
And slowly you see yourself where you
always place yourself, in the back of
the crowd if you're even invited at all.
But what if I told you you've
misunderstood the entire story?
What if I told you you may be in for a
surprise?
What if heaven has been keeping score
differently than you have? What if the
people carrying the heaviest burdens are
the people Hashem has been watching most
closely? What if the people who thought
they were in the back of the room were
actually standing in the front all
along? What if the people who spent
their entire lives feeling like
disappointments are among [music]
heaven's greatest success stories? What
if I told you that on that day, the day
all of Klal Yisrael gathers together,
the day the tears of thousands of years
finally come to an end, the day Mashiach
arrives, the day every question finally
receives [music] an answer, the day
every hidden battle is finally revealed,
Mashiach will ascend a stage and the
world will fall silent. And Mashiach
climbs up on that stage and clears his
throat and makes the first announcement
[music] and he says,
"Anyone who lived by the words Kavod
Hashem
ha lev, please step forward. Anyone who
served Hashem through heartbreak, please
step forward. Anyone who had full
bitachon in Hashem even while their
hearts were shattered, please step
forward." And suddenly, from the back of
the crowd, a widow takes a step. [music]
And a divorced father takes a step. And
a single woman carrying years of
disappointment takes a step forward. And
a couple [laughter] carrying the pain of
decades of infertility takes a step
forward.
"Anyone who lived by the words l'fom
tzara agra, please step forward. Anyone
whose avodas Hashem was heavy, who had
to fight through every mitzvah, who had
to crawl when others could run, please
step forward." And suddenly the crowd
turned to the back and a teenager
[music]
fighting the internet walks to the front
of the crowd. And a girl with severe
anxiety steps forward. [music]
And a man who battled addiction his
whole life takes a step. And a bocher
who learned in Yeshiva and then kayl for
years with a severe stutter comes to the
front of the crowd.
Anyone who lived by the words Rachmana
Liba Bayi, please step forward. Anyone
who came broken but came anyway, please
step forward. Anyone who came from a
dysfunctional household and remained
faithful, please step forward. And
suddenly, from the back of the crowd,
all the people who never received
aliyahs take a step forward. And all the
people who never received awards take a
step forward. And all the people who no
one cared about and no one thought about
and no one looked at step to the front
of the crowd.
Anyone who lives by the words Layv
Nishbav Nidvav Galuy Kim Lay Siruv Zay,
please step forward. Anyone whose tears
became tfilos, whose pain became a
korban, [laughter] who served Hashem
without family or societal pressure,
please step forward. Anyone who served
Hashem in jail or rehab centers, please
step forward. And suddenly, in the back
of the crowd, the mother crying in the
laundry room steps to the [music] front
of the crowd. And the father crying in
his car takes a step. And the prisoner
crying in his jail cell into his sitter
takes a step forward. And the teenager
who had to run from his family and got
caught up in the wrong crowd and lived
on the streets for years and yet still
somehow TRIED HIS BEST TO KEEP SHABBOS,
he steps forward.
Anyone who lived by the words Shaarei
Dimah Leinyanalu, please step forward.
Anyone who thought nobody saw their
tears and nobody cared about their cries
and nobody saw their darkness and still
served Hashem with sincerity, please
step forward. And suddenly, from the
back of the crowd, [music]
the people who cried in hospital rooms,
the people who cried in therapist's
office, the people who cried after
everyone else had gone to sleep, the
people who cried because they missed a
child or missed a spouse [music] or
missed a dream or missed the life they
thought they would have, they all step
forward. And they walk [music] to the
front of the crowd.
Messiah says, "Anyone who lived by the
words
please step forward." And suddenly from
the back of the crowd, the baal teshuva
who never fit in, he steps forward. The
baal teshuva who reads Hebrew funny, he
steps forward. The baal teshuva
[laughter] who couldn't get his kids
into school, he steps forward. The baal
teshuva who lived an entire life of
awkwardness and disregard, he steps
forward and walks to the front of the
crowd. "Anyone who fell 100 times and
got back up 101 times, please step
forward. Anyone who refused to let their
failures have the final word, please
step forward." And suddenly from the
back of the crowd, the girl who deleted
Instagram 100 times takes a step forward
and the boy who spent years and years
and years fighting a private war with
the internet takes a step forward and
the MAN WHO SPENT 20 YEARS REBUILDING A
LIFE HE ONCE THOUGHT was beyond repair,
he takes a step forward. And the woman
who endured setback after setback after
setback after setback since somehow
never stopped believing, she takes a
step forward. Messiah says, "Anyone who
felt abandoned but kept davening anyway,
please step forward. Anyone who felt
nothing in their Yiddishkeit, nothing,
yet keep showing up anyway, please step
forward. Anyone who walked into shul
carrying a broken heart, please step
forward.
Anyone who learned Torah while carrying
a pain that nobody else knew about,
please step forward. Anyone who smiled
while silently falling apart, please
step forward. Anyone who spent years
believing they were disappointing Hashem
while heaven was marveling at their
courage, please step forward." And at
that exact moment, there's movement back
in the crowd and slowly dozens and
dozens and dozens of people begin
stepping forward, the unnoticed, the
overlooked, the struggling, the lonely,
the exhausted, the people who spent
their entire lives convinced they were
religious failures, the people who
thought they were barely hanging on, the
people who never in their wildest dreams
imagined that their names would be
called. They all step forward.
And the world stands frozen in stunned
silence as the hidden heroes they're
ushered to the front as a hush falls
over all of creation and generations of
assumptions and preconceived notions
come crashing down and from one end of
the world to the other end the words I
am a free easy are spread across the
heavens. So to every struggling warrior
out there listening to this,
stop apologizing for who you are. Stop
measuring yourself by people who have
never fought your battles. Stop waiting
for people to understand you or to
appreciate you or to validate you. Some
people will never understand your fight
because they've never had to fight it.
They have no idea what it takes for you
to get through a day. They have no idea
what it costs you to keep showing up and
quite frankly, who cares? Because
history is never changed by the people
sitting in the stands.
>> [music]
>> History is changed by the people in the
arena. The people bleeding. The people
sweating. The people fighting. You think
heaven is impressed by people who had
easy roads? Heaven is impressed by
people who struggle and do not give up.
Heaven knows exactly how much [music]
weight is on your shoulders and heaven
knows exactly how far you've carried it.
So let people talk. Let people judge.
Let people roll their eyes. Let people
misunderstand you. Tune it all out. Keep
moving. Keep fighting. Keep building.
Keep dragging your feet forward if
that's what it takes. Because one day
the world is going to discover [music]
something that will shock them. And that
the people they thought were fail
falling behind were actually carrying
the entire generation. The people they
thought were weak were the strongest
among them. The people they ignored were
the people holding the line. So lift
your [music] head high and keep on
marching because I also cannot afford
for you to quit. We need your scars. We
need your resilience. We need the
strength you earned in places that
nobody saw. you're not carrying a
burden, you're carrying a banner. The
banner of resilience, the banner of
loyalty, [music] the banner of a Jew who
refuses to quit. So, hold your head high
and walk with pride because one day,
when the shofar will sound, when the
exiles [music] will gather, when all the
tears come to an end, when the heroes of
Klal Yisrael will finally be revealed,
and when the march to Yerushalayim
begins, you won't be scrambling for a
place in the back of the crowd. You'll
be right at the front with the flag of
Hashem in your hands and the third Beis
Hamikdash before your eyes and all of
Klal Yisrael marching behind you as you
triumphantly
lead the way.
>> [music]