Singer Maor Nof: "I Had All the Money, But My Soul Was Crying for Help"

Since the release of Maor Nof's song "Ein Od Milvado" at the end of last summer, it became a surprising hit, garnering over 150,000 views within just a few days. It's easy to become addicted to this wonderful song, with its precise and moving lyrics, paired with captivating melody, that talks about the trials and challenges faced by those returning to their faith.

"I wrote this song from my personal experience," Maor shares in an interview. "Actually, all my songs are about what I go through; I pour everything onto the page. I am very familiar with the struggles and difficulties closely, having been a ba'al teshuva for eight years."

Maor Nof, 35, is a singer and songwriter, married and father of three. Music has always been a significant part of his life. Before his return to faith, he performed successfully in many clubs and earned quite a bit of money, although he is reluctant to talk about those distant days.

"I was in the worst places, performing in mixed environments, making quite a bit of money, almost reaching the top," he says. "But there was a terrible emptiness inside me. Today, I know my soul was simply crying for help. I had everything. I had money, in a material sense, I lacked nothing; I had everything I ever dreamed of, yet I felt I was living a lie... I couldn't understand it. How could it be that I have everything and I'm not happy?!"

It's not an easy step to decide to leave everything behind.

"People sometimes ask me why return to faith, and I think the real question is: why not return to faith? I believe anyone who wants to live sanely, to raise their children in a good and value-driven world, owes it to themselves. What’s better than that? A person of faith has much more strength, far more inner peace."

Maor explains that during those days of great emptiness, despite seemingly having it all, he felt he needed some meaning in his life, something beyond. "On one Shabbat evening, when I was just starting this path, I came across a book by the Lubavitcher Rebbe on my mother's shelf. There were about twenty of my friends at home, preparing to go out as we did every Friday, and I read and cried... read and cried. I felt Hashem was calling me, asking me not to go with them. For a long time, I tried to understand how it was possible; how Hashem prevented me from going with them, even though I had no connection to Judaism and knew nothing. You know what the answer is?"

What is it?

Maor smiles. "He simply wanted me close to Him. I don't think there's another answer."

"I decided to disconnect from everything... I felt this emptiness wasn't good for me"

Maor was drawn to Judaism as if by magical cords. As he brought his wife along, he quickly realized he had to leave everything. "I don't think I consciously decided, that's it, I'm returning to faith. Initially, I just wanted to leave everything, everything that wasn’t good for me. Disconnect from the clubs, the dirt, and filth. I told my wife I wanted to stop performing, that I wasn’t feeling good there, not with this emptiness."

As he drew closer to Judaism, Maor felt he could no longer lie to himself. "You can't lie to yourself, perform in such places, and then go study Torah," he explains. He decided to leave music entirely for five years. It wasn't easy.

"Initially, it was good; I had no other choice if I wanted to leave everything. I had to disconnect, but after five years, I felt I was suffocating. I talked to my wife, asked her opinion, and she replied: "I trust you." I decided to try returning to music. The first song I composed was Birkat HaKohanim, and more songs followed."

A large part of your songs deals with the world of ba'alei teshuva. Why is that?

"I write from my personal experiences. It's written that in the place where ba'alei teshuva stand, even perfectly righteous individuals do not stand. I think no one understands these challenges, the incessant struggle, more than someone who's a ba'al teshuva themselves. The words to my song – "Ein Od Milvado" – were inspired by my personal journey. These are words that came from the depths of my heart because I understand this challenge very closely."

Maor talks about another song of his – "Bat Melech" – which he wrote about model Linor Abargil, who returned to faith. "It's the first time I'm saying this publicly, but I actually wrote that song about her. When I heard about her story, how she gave up millions for the sake of modesty, I felt it was truly worthy of a song. I have immense respect for all ba'alei teshuva, because I know what this step entails. When I write, I don't just throw words on a page with a pen. I choose the words carefully because I'm really writing about my past experiences. Maybe not everyone will connect to my texts, which are very personal, but I try, when writing songs, to breathe life and meaning into them."

His past experiences, Nof testifies, touch on the most painful places. "In our home, there was no connection to Judaism. My mother raised us under very difficult conditions in a truly distressed neighborhood, and my first encounter with Judaism was traumatic. My first time in a synagogue was at my Bar Mitzvah. I prepared myself alone, bought clothes myself, and I remember arriving at the synagogue on a stormy winter day, and there wasn't even a minyan. After twenty minutes, I said to myself: 'I’m never coming back here!' Today, when I pass by, I smile. I never thought I’d return to faith, but when I decided to disconnect from the bad places I was in, I felt firsthand that in the way a person wishes to go, they are guided. That's what I want to convey, that returning to faith is not beyond the ocean or in the sky; it starts within you."

When will we see your debut album?

"I used to say soon. Today I say, with Hashem's help. The truth is my thinking has changed too. Today I want to sing, not just be a singer. I used to want the pose, all the surrounding glamour; today, I just want to touch, sing, and be happy. And honestly, the feedback grows from song to song. I hear from people who connected very much to my words and songs, and it definitely gives strength."

Where do you see yourself in a few years?

At this question, Maor hesitates for a moment. "I really hope in music," he answers honestly. "But more importantly, I hope I won't have to give up on Torah. My dream is to perform and bring joy, but with a Gemara on the way to and from performances. Success for me is in how I fill my day, not in how much money I make."