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Ep 309: Habits of a Whole Heart with Arnie Herz and guest Shlomie Rabin P2 on hmTv

HMTC Season 1 Episode 309

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Ep 309: Habits of a Whole Heart with Cantor Shlomie Rabin (Part 2)

In this soulful continuation of their conversation, host Arnie Herz welcomes back Cantor Shlomie Rabin for Part 2 of Habits of a Whole Heart — an exploration of how music, faith, and gratitude can open the soul and transform everyday life.

From the haunting beauty of Unetaneh Tokef to the joyful energy of Dayenu and Al Tidag, Cantor Rabin reveals how Jewish music carries both the weight of reflection and the lightness of hope. Together, he and Arnie dive into timeless themes — the healing power of song, the role of gratitude in spiritual wholeness, and the unspoken language that connects us beyond words.

Listeners will be moved by live singing, heartfelt wisdom, and the inspiring reminder that music is the “quill of the soul” — a bridge between the human and the divine.

🎙️ Habits of a Whole Heart is part of the Humanity Matters series on hmTv, produced by the Holocaust Memorial and Tolerance Center of Nassau County.

Tune in and let your heart listen.

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Ep 309: Habits of a Whole Heart with Cantor Shlomie Rabin (Part 2)

Podcast Series: Habits of a Whole Heart
Host: Arnie Herz
Guest: Cantor Shlomie Rabin
Produced by: hmTv – Humanity Matters TV, Holocaust Memorial and Tolerance Center of Nassau County

Arnie Herz:
Hello, my name is Arnie Herz, and welcome to Habits of a Whole Heart for our second episode with Cantor Shlomie Rabin. We had a thrilling first episode going into the incredible depth and meaning of music, exploring how it connects us — within ourselves, our communities, and the world at large.

Shlomie, thank you for being here for episode number two. I was really moved by your singing in the first one. This is now our 21st episode overall, and it was the first time we’ve ever had live singing. Our sound technician was deeply moved, too. I think it really brought home the essence of what we talk about on this show.

One thing I’ve noticed about Jewish music is how it ranges from deeply mournful and reflective to incredibly joyful and playful. Why is that? And before you answer, I teased the audience that we’d start with Unetaneh Tokef. Can you share what that prayer means and what song you sing after it — and why?

Cantor Shlomie Rabin:
Sure. Unetaneh Tokef is one of the most serious and powerful prayers of Yom Kippur — and we also sing it during Rosh Hashanah. It speaks about how God determines what will happen in the coming year — who will live, who will pass, and how we will be judged. It’s a deeply reflective moment.

The melody I choose for it is also solemn, but I sometimes mix in something unexpected. Believe it or not, I’ve used the Titanic theme — “Near, far, wherever you are…” — because that song evokes such emotion and imagery. It reminds people of the fragility of life and the longing to connect.

(sings softly a portion of Unetaneh Tokef)

Arnie:
Wow. That’s so beautiful and deeply moving. I can feel the stillness you brought into the studio right now — the same stillness you bring into the synagogue. I imagine our listeners, whether driving or going about their day, can feel that same calm — that reminder to reflect, to let go of pain, and reconnect with light and meaning.

But I remember that in synagogue, you transition from that solemn prayer into something very different. Can you share what that is and why?

Shlomie:
Yes, that’s kind of my signature move — not necessarily one to try at home! After the seriousness of Unetaneh Tokef, I meditate on what I want the congregation to feel next. The prayer ends with hope: that through repentance, prayer, and charity, the harsh decree can be annulled.

So while it begins heavy, it ends with optimism — a sense that we can change our fate, that God loves us, and that humanity can heal. To bring that energy into the room, I transition to a joyful Israeli song — “Al Tidag” — which means “Don’t be afraid.”

(sings softly)
“Al tidag, al tidag…”

When 500 people sing that together, the energy lifts the roof. It’s transformative.

Arnie:
That’s incredible. You’re taking me right back to that experience. And as I listen, I’m reminded of my own path — how I once felt disconnected from Judaism. I spent years in India studying yoga and meditation before rediscovering Judaism through Chabad.

One night I heard Kol Nidre online — the haunting melody of Yom Kippur — and it awakened something inside me. Music brought me home. And I know you’ve said before that music is often the deepest point of connection for Jews, even those who don’t consider themselves observant.

Shlomie:
Absolutely. When you ask Jews who feel disconnected to recall a meaningful memory from childhood, it’s almost always tied to a song. Maybe it’s what their father sang at the Passover Seder, or the melody at Rosh Hashanah dinner, or songs sung around the menorah on Hanukkah.

Music etches those experiences into our soul. The Rebbe Rashab — the fifth Lubavitcher Rebbe — said that’s why we repeat each stanza of a niggun twice: the first time marks the outline, and the second time engraves it into the heart.

Even in Alzheimer’s patients, we see this. They may forget names and faces, but if you sing an old Jewish melody, the light returns to their eyes. I’ve seen it firsthand — music reaches where memory cannot.

Arnie:
That’s profound. Last night, I attended an AJC program about antisemitism on campuses. One speaker said that you can’t fight disconnection with arguments — you have to build emotional connection. That’s what you’re describing: music reconnects the heart when words can’t.

And when you asked what songs we remember from home — the one that comes to mind for me is Dayenu from the Passover Seder. Its message feels more urgent than ever. We live in a world of “I need more, I need more.” Social media tells us we’re never enough. But Dayenu reminds us to be grateful — that what we have is enough.

Would you sing a little of Dayenu for us?

Shlomie:
(sings joyfully)
“Dayenu, dayenu…”

Arnie:
I love that! Maybe we should do a whole series — Songs of the Holidays.

Shlomie:
I’d love that.

Arnie:
It’s interesting you mention gratitude, because on my drive here, I was thinking about how music and gratitude are intertwined.

Shlomie:
Exactly. The first songs ever written — from Adam’s Mizmor Shir L’Shabbat to King David’s Psalms — were expressions of gratitude. Miriam led the Israelites in song after crossing the Red Sea. Song has always been the language of thanks and connection.

Music quiets the mind and opens the heart. In our heads, we often think, “I’m not enough.” But our souls know otherwise. Music helps us remember that truth — that everything we need is already within us.

That’s why we blow the shofar on Rosh Hashanah. Not to make a speech, but to let out a pure, wordless cry — the sound of the soul stripped of all layers and roles.

Arnie:
That’s beautiful. You said something that really hit me: when we strip away all the roles — father, husband, lawyer, leader — what’s left is “I am enough.” That’s the essence of wholeness.

Through music, we pierce through all those layers and return to that simple truth. That’s what Habits of a Whole Heart is about — finding that completeness that’s already inside us.

Shlomie:
Exactly.

Arnie:
You also help others express that completeness — by connecting cantors and singers to opportunities. Tell us about your placement work.

Shlomie:
Sure. I was serving as a cantor for eight years in one synagogue, but I wanted to expand. I couldn’t find any central place that helped connect cantors to congregations — so I created one. It started by helping one rabbi in the Caribbean find a cantor. Now it’s grown into a full service that’s helped place dozens of cantors and brought in tens of thousands of dollars for them.

Some used that money to pay off debts, others to give charity or fund family needs. That ripple effect — helping one person use their gift to support their life and others — that’s what this is all about.

Arnie:
That’s beautiful. The highest form of charity is giving someone a job — creating opportunity. You’ve done that with heart.

Now, tell us about your Niggun Society. Why did you start it, and why is it important to preserve these melodies?

Shlomie:
It began at a Rosh Hashanah meal where we sang one niggun from each of the Chabad Rebbes — from the Baal Shem Tov to the Lubavitcher Rebbe. The idea is that when we sing a Rebbe’s niggun, we connect with his soul and his teachings.

Each Rebbe was like a spiritual leader for his generation — guiding the theme of that era. Moses led us out of Egypt; Joshua led us into the land. Each Chabad Rebbe carried the mission forward — from enlightenment to redemption.

These niggunim are not just songs; they’re guided meditations. Some prepare you for learning; others open your heart to prayer. The Alter Rebbe composed ten of them — some with words, most without. The wordless ones allow pure transformation.

A niggun moves you from point A to point B — from distraction to presence, from heaviness to light. It’s the soundtrack of spiritual transition.

Arnie:
That’s so powerful. Life is full of transitions, and music helps us move through them — just as a mezuzah reminds us to pause before entering a new space.

Shlomie, I can’t believe we’re already at the end of episode two. You’ve given us so much wisdom and heart. I’d love to bring you back each season — maybe explore the songs and meanings of each holiday.

This has been the most joyful episode we’ve had. Thank you for your craft, your light, and your spirit.

Shlomie:
Thank you, Arnie. It’s been a blessing.

Arnie:
And thank you to our listeners for tuning in. Many people today are searching for purpose — trying to move beyond the noise and reconnect with meaning. That’s what this podcast is about.

Please share this episode with anyone who might need a little light and reflection. Join our Habits of a Whole Heart community and stay tuned for future episodes, part of the Humanity Matters series on hmTv — the podcast platform of the Holocaust Memorial and Tolerance Center of Nassau County.

Until next time, I’m your host, Arnie Herz. Stay whole, stay kind, and stay grateful.