Rabbi Shimon Peretz Brings Torah to Life Through Laughter

When I was nine years old, my parents hired clowns for my sister’s brit milah (a baby girl’s celebration). One of them stood out, his white face paint and big red smile lit up the room as he greeted guests with charm and mischief. Without anyone noticing, he’d remove their watches or envelopes with checks, then return them moments later with a laugh. That’s how he became part of our family memories and our photo album.

Twenty-one years later, after becoming religious, my husband and I hosted an evening of Torah and laughter in our home. The guest speaker was Rabbi Shimon Peretz, known for his “stand-up Torah” events that combine humor with spiritual inspiration. He began projecting images from his life before becoming religious, and to our shock, we realized that the clown from that long-ago party was none other than Rabbi Peretz himself.

Shimon Peretz was born in Haifa into a traditional Moroccan Jewish family. From the age of 12 until 18, he lived on Kibbutz Yakum. Although his mother’s home kept some Jewish traditions and he always felt a connection to Hashem, he lived a secular life. He studied in a secular school and later joined the IDF’s entertainment troupe. His comedic talent was obvious early on and he loved making people laugh, telling jokes, and doing impressions.

Back then, the American TV show “Fame” was popular in Israel. “My mother was addicted to it,” he says with a smile. “One day she said to me, ‘Shimon, I want you to be an actor.’ I replied, ‘Don’t you want me to be like Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai?’ She answered, ‘I want you to be HaRagbat!’ I asked her, ‘Who is HaRagbat?’ and she said, ‘Rabbi John ben Travolta!’”

Following her dream, he studied acting at the prestigious Beit Zvi School. He went on to perform at the Habima Theater, appear on TV shows like “Zehu Zeh,” the prank show “Pispusim,” and Yehuda Barkan’s “Lo Dofkim Heshbon.” At the same time, he ran a successful business providing clowns and dancers for events. Outwardly, everything seemed great. But inside, things began to shift.

Today, at age 47, Rabbi Peretz is a baal teshuvah, a returnee to Judaism, who uses his comedic talent to bring Jews closer to Torah. He performs all over Israel and the world, sharing his life story with warmth and laughter. He lives in Bnei Brak, is happily married, and when asked how many children he has, he smiles and says, “Once you have more than five, you stop counting out loud.”

It seems you had everything in your secular life, success, money, comfort. What changed?

“I was shaken awake. At 28, I married a wonderful woman in a storybook wedding. But within nine days, I knew it wasn’t right. Around that time, a friend who had become religious encouraged me to explore Judaism. He introduced me to Rabbi Daniel Zar, who invited me for Shabbat. That was the beginning. Slowly, I started keeping Shabbat.

“At first, I was still working in the events business. I’d arrive at a job, take off my kippah, and put it back on when I left. I also stopped going out. Eventually, I met a woman who was also becoming religious, and we decided to marry. It was another beautiful wedding. She was a good person, but we weren’t a match. After two months, we both saw it wasn’t working.

“I didn’t understand why this was happening. I wasn’t a bad person. Then it hit me that everything in life comes with instructions. When you buy a car, you get a manual and a warranty. Same with a refrigerator. Why should marriage be any different? I decided to follow Hashem’s instructions this time. I was ready to go all in. That’s the truth.”

Did things become easier after that decision?

“No, it was still hard. Every match I went on felt like another test. One woman was a widow still mourning, another was divorced with eight kids. It wasn’t simple. As a baal teshuvah, you suddenly can’t do all the things you used to. You’re now part of a framework. But I had a goal, so I pushed myself. Baruch Hashem, I eventually met my righteous wife. Because I was divorced twice, her father took me to a rabbi for guidance. The rabbi gave us a blessing and we got married.”

If you could speak to your younger, secular self, what would you say?

“I’d invite him to learn Torah. I’d say, ‘Let’s open a Rambam, a Gemara. There’s so much wisdom there.’ Think about this: the sages discussed, hundreds of years ago, a case where a kohen (priest) is inside a box, can you carry that box over a cemetery? That shows you they already had insight into things like air travel! And Tehillim (Psalms), every line King David wrote came from deep experience. Every word is perfect. People admire Shakespeare, but the real power is in the Hebrew text.”

Would the old Shimon have listened to you?

“It would have been hard. I was always working at Superland, Luna Park, hotels, events. There was no time to stop and listen. I was chasing work.”

So how do you define your journey now?

“It was about turning around. I left one path and entered a new one that teaches how to live in every part of life. I remember once at the bank, I asked who was last in line. A man answered, and I stood behind him. Suddenly, a woman came and claimed she was ahead of me. Then she turned and said, ‘You religious people steal from the country. Now you’re stealing spots in line too?’

“I said nothing. A moment later, the bank manager came by and greeted me warmly. The woman asked him, ‘How do you know him?’ He said, ‘He used to act at Habima Theater.’ And just like that, her tone changed. Suddenly I wasn’t ‘ultra-Orthodox.’ She saw me differently. But I had to remain calm, I represent something.”

“For me, becoming religious was like polishing a diamond. A diamond by itself is nice, but once you set it in gold, it shines. I remember going to the beach in the past and never enjoying it. I wouldn’t even go into the water, I didn’t want to ruin my hair. Now, as a religious Jew, I go to separate beaches just for men. I don’t need to impress anyone. I see fathers playing with their sons, enjoying Hashem’s creation. It’s pure. It’s holy.”

“Baal teshuvahs can reach incredible spiritual heights. They’ve tasted what’s out there, movies, nightlife and made the choice to step away from it. That choice carries tremendous power. And yes, it’s hard. We remember our past, we battle pride, and we work hard to keep laws like family purity. But it’s beautiful. What longing a husband feels for his wife during that time. What holiness. And how can we not thank Hashem, who gives us life every single day?”

Has anyone become religious because of you?

“Yes. In South Africa, a wealthy bachelor laughed throughout one of my performances. Later, someone told me he was 44 and had never married. I encouraged him to come to Israel, and he did. He met a woman from Rosh HaAyin, married her, and now has four kids. He keeps kosher, observes family purity. You see? Even through stand-up, hearts open.”

Your performances aren’t directly about faith. What’s your goal?

“To help people stop living in fantasy. If you live in a movie, you’ll end up eating movies. I want people to have faith in our sages. Like the story of the man who asked a rabbi what would happen to him. The rabbi opened a Torah scroll and said, ‘You’ll die in four months.’ Eight months later, the man returned. ‘Rabbi, I’m still alive!’ The rabbi said, ‘If you had real faith, you’d be gone.’”

Are you more serious or funny in daily life?

“Mostly serious. At home, I’m not the same as I am on stage.”

Where do you see yourself in ten years?

“I’d love to create a full stage play based on the story of Rabbi Akiva and the rooster, the donkey, and the candle. With real scenery, lights, sound. When a child sees something like that, they’ll want to be Rabbi Akiva. Theater leaves a deep impression. It inspires people to live the story.”