From Secular Tel Aviv to a World of Torah: The Inspiring Journey of Rebbetzin Sarit Gaz

"To this day, every time Shabbat comes in, I remember the first Shabbats I started keeping, and I can't stop getting emotional," says Rebbetzin Sarit Gaz, an emotional therapist who brings many closer to Judaism and organizes women's conferences and hafrashat challah events. "At that time, I lived in an apartment in Tel Aviv, being the only one keeping Shabbat while everyone around me smoked and watched TV. Suddenly, on Friday afternoon, I would leave everything, sit in a corner of the kitchen, light candles, and sanctify the wine... It seemed unbelievable to everyone, and the truth is, it did to me too."

Rebbetzin Gaz pauses for a moment. Today, after decades in the world of bringing people closer to Judaism, she is aware that her story is unique. "There was no conventional process here; I feel that Hashem Himself was the one guiding me. I have no other explanation," she says.

Step by Step

When Rebbetzin Gaz is asked to pinpoint the moments of her initial return, she notes them from a very young age. "I was born into a good Moroccan family; we lacked nothing and I lived the good life of Tel Aviv. Nevertheless, I always felt something was missing inside me, and from a young age, it didn't give me rest.

"Something inside me cried out, and I was never satisfied with what I had as a child. The personal example I saw at home was very confusing—on one hand, my father made Kiddush and there was faith in the Creator of the world, but at the same time, there were also Shabbat desecrations because the tradition was mainly external and didn't really affect the internal.

"As I grew older, I understood this was not the way, but at the same time, I couldn't think there was any other possibility—'What? Will I become like those religious women with wigs and black stockings?' I really felt a revulsion towards the idea."

The change in her life began gradually. "It started when my grandfather passed away," she says. "For the first time, concrete questions began to surface: 'Why do we live in the world, and what's the purpose of these lives if, in the end, they end?' These questions didn't lead to any practical conclusion, but they shook me, and so my search process began. In the meantime, I did three years in the army and searched for myself in various fields. Among other things, I was recommended four times for the Miss Israel contest, and once I even reached the selection process, but I was shocked by the lack of modesty and the superficiality. I felt dizzy and simply didn't find myself there.

"Eventually, I returned to Judaism through introspection," she explains. "I wasn't a foolish girl, and each day I felt myself looking deeper and seeing the emptiness. The answers came on their own. I remember returning from outings on Friday nights, sitting on the bed, and starting to cry while talking to Hashem, asking, 'Master of the World, why did I come to this world?' I would release the questions into the air without getting answers, but with the understanding that they certainly exist, and I just have to find them."

In her mid-twenties, she began observing mitzvot—step by step. "I knew modesty was too big a challenge for me, so I deliberately didn't start with it," Rebbetzin Gaz clarifies. "I started with keeping Shabbat, which for me was something exciting and elevated—full of tranquility and purity. A real great privilege. The problem was there was no rabbi to guide me, so I decided to create my own atmosphere. True, I was in a Tel Aviv home with people smoking and watching TV on Shabbat, but I wanted to keep Shabbat, and it was important to me! So I created a small corner for myself where I would read Kiddush and hold a meal."

One of the most moving situations she remembers was on Shabbat Shuva. "It was the first time I went to the synagogue on Shabbat," she recalls, "I wore my mom's skirt and my brother's t-shirt—just to be modest, and I imitated all the worshippers around me—when they stood to pray, I stood, and when they stood for the 'Amidah, I imitated every move they made. I prayed every word from the prayer book: 'Mashiv Haruach' and also 'Morid Hatal', prayers for Shabbat and for the Three Festivals, for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Though I understood that not everything was meant for one prayer, I felt that on Shabbat Shuva, when one returns for the whole year, it was appropriate to pray all the year’s prayers. Today I am sure that the Creator of the world took this prayer and delighted in it."

Just to Give Thanks

The small progress continued with significant strengthening in other areas: kashrut, meat and milk, prayers, and other things that elevated her and pushed her forward. "Eventually I also reached the topic of modesty," notes the Rebbetzin, "and by then I was more ready for it, making it less difficult for me. By the way, this is also the advice I usually give to other women—'The hardest thing for a woman is modesty, don't try to strengthen specifically in it, but progress step by step in easier areas, that way you will succeed in approaching gradually.'

"But what strengthened me the most was the fact that, during my return to Judaism, I received answers from my body and soul, just as it is written 'From my flesh, I shall see Hashem.' After keeping Shabbat, I felt delight; after adopting modesty, I felt protected. I felt that after every mitzvah, I received confirmation from the Creator of the world.

"Ultimately, after I strengthened myself, I was blessed to meet my husband—Rabbi Rami Gaz, also a baal teshuva who underwent a similar process to mine. He too returned to Judaism on his own, without organized guidance, simply from sparks of holiness and a process that was greater than him. Today he is a marriage counselor and also a well-known lecturer at Hidabroot."

And how did your family react to the changes in you?

"The truth is it was hard for my parents, and at the beginning of my strengthening, my father said to me, 'Just don’t end up having a separated wedding.' In the end, the wedding was separate, in the strictest way, but my father was so happy and danced without stopping. In his job, he was a bank manager and met people of high stature, but in those days he told me it was the first time he felt a direct connection to spirituality and true Jewish joy."

About 30 years have passed since those days, and Rebbetzin Gaz wants to mention what she also says at the strengthening evenings she organizes: "Sometimes we feel that 'look, we've done something for Hashem, and now everything in our lives should be good,' and the truth is, that's not the case. In my case too, the trials never stopped for a moment. After the wedding, we had a sweet baby girl, but afterward, there was a stillbirth in the ninth month and a great heartbreak. We've experienced other challenges over the years, but as time passes, I try to teach myself not to pity and not to make myself a victim, to understand that Hashem does not owe me anything, and I just need to give thanks. Thank God, alongside the difficulty, we also received many gifts from the Creator of the world, including twins born in a birth following the stillbirth, and overall, we are parents to six amazing children.

"Both my husband and I are privileged to help many couples in marital crises—he as a marriage counselor and I as an emotional therapist using the CBT method. I also publish a daily strengthening video and, in another role, I guide brides and hold large-scale hafrashat challah events. I've been blessed that women who aren't connected to Judaism sometimes come to my events and are at the furthest edge, but their hearts are ignited, and it often happens that they continue attending Torah lessons afterward. Time and again, I tell them: 'I didn't come to bring you back to Judaism, not even to teach Torah, just to give tools for correct introspection on life, and this is the truth.'"