Through nigun and short, searing teachings, we ask: “What will You do with all these tears?” We learn how to hold protest and trust together, how to daven without going numb, and how to turn Jewish pain into clarified love and courageous gevurah.

This shiur also marks the crucial difference between then and now: we are not helpless; Am Yisrael is awake and acting. Rav Shlomo speaks about holy gevurah, teshuvah of clarity, and restoring the Jewish heart without going numb. If you’ve wondered how to daven, protest, and trust all at once, this is a tender, unsparing roadmap from the Rebbe’s words to our reality.

Dedicated to the fallen and wounded of Am Yisrael, HY”D, and to those protecting us in body and spirit. May the Aish Kodesh be a melitz yosher for us all.

In the raw days after Oct 7, Rav Shlomo gathers the chevra to sing, weep, and find the strength to daven. Through niggunim (including the original “Oran” melody) and living Torah from the Piaseczner Rebbe—the Aish Kodesh, HY”D (may Hashem avenge his blood)—he speaks to the exhaustion, the waves of emotion, and the holy refusal to go numb.

This shiur leans on the Rebbe’s teaching that pain itself can become Torah, and on Tehillim’s promise: “On the day I call, You answer me; You embolden my soul.” We hear why learning gives koach while doom-scrolling drains it; why documenting who we are now will strengthen who we’ll be later; and how Am Yisrael’s awakened heart is restoring courage to the world.

Dedicated to the fallen and the wounded of Am Yisrael, HY”D, and to those protecting us on the front lines. May our tefillah grow stronger, and make us stronger, day after day.

From the depths of the Warsaw Ghetto, Rav Kalonymus Kalman Shapira of Piaseczno, may Hashem avenge his blood (הי״ד), taught how to find Hashem within the fire — how to hear the Rebbe’s Torah even in a world turned upside down.

In this shiur, Rav Shlomo reads the Aish Kodesh as prophecy for our moment: that our pain itself can become Torah, that faith born in suffering is the deepest kind of emunah, and that the Jewish soul can never be extinguished. As we face war, loss, and awakening, we discover that Hashem is still our Rebbe, teaching us, refining us, strengthening us,  through every unbearable chapter.

This is not a lesson in history. It’s the Aish Kodesh speaking now.

On the Rebbe’s 78th yahrzeit, Rav Shlomo Katz opens the Aish Kodesh and Hakhsharat HaAvrechim to uncover the Piaseczner’s breathtaking understanding of the soul’s longing, pain, and ascent. We learn that when a tzaddik leaves this world, his tefillah changes perspective, his prayers align with Heaven itself, and that on his yahrzeit, those prayers still lift us upward.

Through this lens, Rav Shlomo explores the Rebbe’s teaching that everything is already within us. Our work is simply to create the platform — the awareness — for the soul’s song to emerge. The Piaseczner warns against the temptation of emotional numbness, urging us instead to feel, to risk, to live with the full range of divine experience.

From the depths of the Warsaw Ghetto to our own hearts today, this one piece of heavenly advice still whispers: Don’t silence your soul. Hear it sing.

From Chovas HaTalmidim to Aish Kodesh, we follow the Rebbe’s journey from teaching the joy and innocence of youth to confronting the unimaginable: praying within destruction. Rav Shlomo explores what it means to desecrate prayer (chilul hatefillah), to rediscover its essence, and to stand before Hashem not only with wounds that still bleed, but with scars that never fully heal.

A reminder that our deepest prayers are not always the ones we speak, but the ones that rise from silence.

Through niggun, story, and Torah, Rav Shlomo traces the journey of the Piaseczner Rebbe from his yeshiva in Poland to the hidden manuscripts buried in milk cans beneath the Warsaw Ghetto. We explore his teachings of emunah written in the darkest hours of Jewish history, his longing for Eretz Yisrael, his love for children, and his unbreakable belief that even in the pit of Gehenom, the soul can still sing.