Personal Stories
From Doubt to Depth: Nir Manoussi’s Journey to Torah
From secular philosopher to Torah thinker, Nir Manoussi reveals how deep questions led him home to Judaism
- Dudu Cohen
- פורסם י"ח חשון התשע"ד |עודכן

#VALUE!
On Nir Manoussi’s thoughtful website, Reflections of Teshuvah, one tab stands out: “Return to Teshuvah.” For many people who’ve become religious, the word teshuvah which means "return" in Hebrew feels like coming home to their true selves. But in more secular circles, the term can carry negative connotations. Clicking on the tab reveals Manoussi’s personal take:
“I object to phrases like ‘returning to questions’ or ‘leaving with questions,’” he writes, “because they distort the real meaning of teshuvah. They make it sound like someone who embraces faith is escaping from complexity, when really it’s a courageous step toward truth. If you genuinely love questions, then receiving real answers should excite you. That’s the depth of teshuvah, it’s not superficial. It’s a serious, thoughtful process.”
Nir Manoussi, now 38, is one of the most fascinating voices in today’s world of Jewish return. He’s the son of prominent Palmach-generation journalist Didi Manoussi and illustrator Tzila Manoussi. As a teenager, he attended Thelma Yellin High School for the arts and later studied illustration in London and New York. He earned a bachelor's degree in history and philosophy, and a master’s in cultural studies. His intellectual role model growing up was Richard Dawkins, a leading voice of atheism. The idea of embracing Judaism was the last thing on his mind.
But today, Nir is a dedicated student of Rabbi Yitzchak Ginsburgh, a well-known teacher of Hasidism and Kabbalah. He has edited two of the rabbi’s books—Love and Worlds, both of which make complex mystical ideas accessible to modern readers.
Coming from such a secular background, how did you find your way to Torah?
“It was gradual. I grew up in a home very distant from Judaism. I didn’t have a bar mitzvah, there were no mezuzahs on our doorposts, and we didn’t celebrate the holidays not even lightly. It wasn’t neglect; it was a matter of principle. My father loved the Bible and knew some things about the sages and the Talmud, but we never encountered Torah directly. So when I finally did, and my inner wall of cynicism started to fall, the experience was amazing.”
“My mother actually grew up in a religious home but moved away from it. So when I began my return to Judaism, she had a quiet appreciation for it. My father was initially very worried. He had read those stories about people who become religious and cut off all ties with their family. But I went in a positive direction. I visited more, showed them respect, and deepened our relationship. That gave him peace of mind. He got to know my wife, fell in love with the grandchildren, and slowly embraced it all.”
Nir’s journey back to Judaism began during his years at Hebrew University in Jerusalem, when he met a deeply educated religious Jew who introduced him to the inner teachings of Torah particularly Hasidism and Kabbalah. Their conversations touched something deep inside him.
“I was especially captivated by PaRDeS, the idea that Torah has four layers of meaning from the simple to the mystical. It showed me that Judaism is rich, layered, and filled with wisdom.”
Wasn’t it overwhelming to enter Judaism through something as deep as Kabbalah?
“Not really. In today’s world, rationalism has softened. Postmodernism teaches us that each worldview has its own internal logic. I realized that to understand Torah, you have to learn its language from the inside and not judge it by outside standards. Also, I started to question the very nature of skepticism. I had always been skeptical of religion, but eventually I turned that skepticism on itself. I asked, does skepticism build anything? Or does it only tear things down? I realized that to live a meaningful life, you need more than endless questions. You need a path.”
In his early life, Nir was known as Neil. His name change holds its own meaningful twist.
Why did you change your name from Neil to Nir?
“At my brit milah (ritual circumcision), I was actually named Nir. But before the brit, my parents had chosen Neil. They changed their minds, thinking Nir was more appropriate. Then after the brit, they went back to Neil, and that’s how I was raised. Years later, I discovered something amazing that ‘Nir’ appears only once in the entire Torah, and it happens to be in the weekly parsha (Torah portion) of the week I was born. They say parents have a kind of prophecy when they name a child, and I believe that’s what happened. My father still calls me Neil, it’s hard for him to adjust but when I’m called up to the Torah, I’m called Nir, and that’s what matters.”
So your parents gave you a brit milah even though your home wasn’t religious?
“That generation gave brit milah to everyone. I asked my father why he did it, given his principles. He said, ‘I didn’t want you to feel like an outsider among Jews.’ I told him, ‘But you still forced something on me.’ He laughed and he had no answer. For me, that moment was eye-opening. There’s no such thing as a life without influence. Even in the most liberal home, values are imposed. Brit milah shows that we don’t choose where we’re born or to whom but instead of running from identity, the brit places it front and center. It tells you: you belong to something. That’s powerful.”
Today, Nir continues to teach and write. Worlds, the book he recently edited for Rabbi Ginsburgh, contains 33 clear and insightful essays. Topics include the mystical layers of Torah, the Hasidic view of the soul, men and women in Jewish thought, the Jewish calendar through a Hasidic lens, and how these teachings apply to everyday life. The language is simple and engaging, making deep ideas accessible to beginners.
The next book he’s editing will explore the connection between Torah and science.
“It’s actually the first book I started with the Rabbi, but we paused it for a while. It presents a vision for uniting Torah wisdom with modern scientific knowledge. There’s a deep gap between the Enlightenment mindset and Judaism, and Hasidism wants to bridge it, not reject it, but elevate it. That’s what the future of Judaism looks like: bringing together Divine truth with human understanding. The seeds of that already exist, but we still have a long way to go.”