Sometime in the early 2010s, I was filling out a grant application for the local Friendship Circle I was running when I encountered a question asking for our organization’s core values. I remember being annoyed because the question seemed so disconnected from the actual problem in front of me.
A friend complained that I keep naming the problem and never giving the steps. He was right. But the steps rest on a question I still can't answer: do we have permission to author a Shlichus?
I once overheard a Shliach venting to a friend about one of his congregants. This man, a regular, comes most weeks, sits through davening, stays for the kiddush. He has done so for years. "He's a warm guy, great to have around," the Shliach said. But
Over the past few weeks I've been getting the same note from a handful of you. The articles are resonating, you say, and you want to know the obvious follow-up: what are the steps to making the necessary changes? It's a fair question. Answering it
Most people who know me would assume I spent recent years mostly helping Shluchim set up a CRM or delegate to a virtual assistant. In large part they would be right. What would surprise them is that a good deal of my discussions were spent explaining to a Shliach why
Planning was one of the questions facing every growing moisad. Hiring is another. A Shliach who builds something serious eventually meets the ceiling of what he and his wife can carry alone. Systemizing and optimizing can raise that ceiling, but only by so much; past a certain point, what binds
In the new era of Shlichus, better planning is not the answer. The real shift is seeing the underlying reality clearly enough that the plan can serve something deeper than activity, optimization, or projection.
What’s missing isn’t strategy. It’s the instinct underneath it.
The things that used to work in Shlichus still work, but at a higher cost, with more friction, and less return. A signal that an era is ending, and a new one is beginning.