“Silence Saved My Life”: The Inspiring Return to Faith of Ron Shaharbani

If you had met Ron Shaharbani, a resident of Zichron Yaakov, thirteen years ago, it would have been hard to talk to him about anything other than soccer. He himself played for a period on the Hapoel Petach Tikva team, and even afterward, soccer continued to fill his entire world.

“I was very far from Torah and mitzvot,” he recalls. “I wasn’t interested at all. The amazing part is that my late father’s cousin is Rabbi Yehuda Shaharbani — the author of the Ari Prayer Intentions Siddur. So many people drew closer to Judaism through his classes, and people always asked me: ‘How is it possible that you remain so distant — when you have such a relative? Why don’t you at least try to speak with him?’

And I would answer: ‘What would we even talk about? Soccer? The trips I take to the U.S.?’

I was completely distant and disconnected.”

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A humiliation unlike any other

Exactly thirteen years ago, on the eve of Yom Kippur, Ron joined his relative, Rabbi Shaharbani, at the synagogue for prayers — and from that moment, his life changed.

“Through the Rabbi I was introduced to Judaism,” he says.

“At first it was the Yom Kippur prayers — you simply cannot stand there and remain unmoved. Later, the Rabbi took me to the Ari Mikveh. We went there in the winter at one in the morning. I immersed for the first time in my life — and when I came out, I felt completely different. Something inside me filled up.”

What surprised him most was the contrast: “All my life I felt a certain emptiness, and I could never explain why. As a soccer player, I excelled. In my work, I managed forty sales agents and earned a very respectable salary. Believe me, I lacked nothing.

But only after I came closer to Judaism did I understand that you can succeed in many areas — but in the end, Torah is real life.

A full year passed since Ron began his spiritual journey, and once again the High Holy Days approached.

“I often hear people say that when they start to return to Judaism, they suddenly face difficult tests — and that’s exactly what happened to me. Three days before Rosh Hashanah, I was asked — through the leasing company I worked for, to take a car from Petach Tikva to Bnei Brak, and then return with a different car back to the lot.”

He describes what happened next: “I arrived in Bnei Brak, but the return vehicle was still in the garage and would only be ready in an hour and a half. As I was about to leave, a man came in asking for charity. He said he was a father of nine, had no way to prepare for the holiday, and begged us to help.

I gave what I had — and told him: ‘Since I have an hour and a half anyway, I’ll go out and collect a food package for you.’

So I went into the busy streets of Bnei Brak before the holiday and approached several business owners I knew. Most of them donated generously — but one of them humiliated me in public, in a way I had never experienced. It was like Shimi ben Gera cursing King David — and in front of many people.

I had what to answer back, but I bit my lip. I felt that on the eve of Rosh Hashanah, this was not the time to start a dispute. Back then, I still didn’t understand the tremendous power of silence — that remaining silent can be the essence of a person’s spiritual rectification in this world. That is something I only understand today.

I finished packing the food package and handed it to the man, collected the replacement car from the garage, and drove back toward Petach Tikva.”

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A nightmare on the road

Then came the terrifying part of the story: “The drive back from Bnei Brak started off normally. But when I reached the parking entrance of the leasing company, the gas pedal suddenly jammed — pressed all the way down — and I had absolutely no control.

It was like a nightmare. The car began swerving wildly inside the parking lot, crashing into brand-new vehicles one after another, while I sat inside praying to God that I would make it out alive — and that no customer or staff member would walk by at that moment. I had no control over the car. No words can describe that feeling — it was raw, real fear.

In a split second, I decided to steer straight into the fence. The car was badly damaged — but, by the grace of Heaven — it finally stopped.”

He stepped out of the car shaking: “I opened the door, trembling, and thanked God for saving my life, and for the fact that no one was hurt. They called an ambulance and took me to the hospital. The damage was estimated at 1.7 million shekels — but the company covered it fully after it was proven that the car was defective.

Many people drew their own conclusions from that incident, but I came away with one lesson: There is immense spiritual power in remaining silent when humiliated.

That silence granted me the gift of life.

What would have happened if the pedal had jammed a few minutes earlier, when I was still driving along Jabotinsky Street? How many people could have been harmed? And what would have become of me? Everyone would have assumed it was a terror attack.

Since then, every year when the High Holy Days return, I remember this miracle — and I share it with others.”

Ron Shahrabani. Photo by Elior Lahav

As you mentioned, you were still at the beginning of your spiritual journey at the time. How did this experience affect you?

“Honestly, it was hard. I felt like I was doing my best, and suddenly God gave me such a shaking test.

But when I spoke with Rabbi Shaharbani, he shared many stories of people who returned to faith — and precisely then encountered challenges. Because that’s exactly what God wants from us — to learn to believe in Him even in difficult times, and to recognize the miracles in our lives every single day.

You don’t need dramatic events like mine to see them — you just need to open your eyes and pay attention.”