Becoming a world champion boxer was my dream ever since I was a young boy. After moving to Brooklyn from the Ukraine in 1991, the isolation of the immigrant experience led me to seek out a boxing club while I was only 13 years old. While most American Jewish boys were studying for their bar mitzvah, I was dreaming of becoming a boxer.

When I was 14 years old, my mother became ill with cancer. During a visit to my mother's hospital room, I met a chassidic man who was visiting his own wife. A friendship formed and he put me in contact with Rabbi Zalman Liberow of Chabad of Flatbush. Rabbi Liberow encouraged me to gradually accept more rituals of Judaism and I grew to love the traditions of my ancestors. I began to pray every day and eat kosher food.

Meanwhile, my boxing career was progressing. When I turned 17 it was time to compete in the NYC Golden Gloves amateur boxing tournament. I made it to the finals which were on a Friday night. By this time I had learned that Friday night was the Jewish Sabbath, and I felt guilty about fighting, but I decided to fight anyway. I was excited about the opportunity to win the tournament and get a lucrative offer to turn pro. Alas, it was not meant to be and I lost.

I thought about quitting, getting a regular job and forgetting about my dream of becoming a world champion. A few months after the Golden Gloves, I was picked to compete in the U.S. Amateur Championships held in Gulfport, Mississippi. One more try I thought. I trained diligently, and came to my Rabbi for a blessing to win. Rabbi Lieberow told me that I could have an impact as a positive role model, but he reminded me that I should observe the Sabbath.

I decided to make this commitment and to take the next step in my religious observance of not fighting on Sabbath. This was a crossroads point in my life. I worked hard and put my faith in the hands of G-D I decided that G-D rules the world and my testament to that as a Jew was by observing the Sabbath.

In Mississippi, I was told that the finals were on the Sabbath and I would be disqualified if I did not fight. Since I was not favored to make it to the finals, I didn't worry about it. But after scoring two upset victories, I made it to the finals. I was fully ready to be disqualified, but thankfully the tournament organizers decided to move the match so that I could participate.

This time I won the tournament and became the U.S. National Champion. I also entered the Golden Gloves again the following year. I made it to the finals at Madison Square Garden. This time the finals were held on a Thursday and I won the tournament. Shortly thereafter I turned pro and have now compiled a record of 30-0.

Looking back on these past 10 years, I recognize that the direction I got from my rabbi gave me a core strength that I carry both inside and outside the ring. I now dedicate my life not only to winning boxing matches but to teaching children how to engage in non-competitive boxing so that they can be physically fit and gain confidence in themselves.

Boxing is a mental game as much as it is a physical one. My immigrant story, my mother's illness, and my dedication to Shabbat, are all a part of my strength and a fundamental reason for my success as a boxer. I look forward to my title fight, which I now know--no matter what--will not be on Friday night. That fight I have already won.

Dmitriy Salita, an Orthodox Jew and the No. 1 junior welterweight contender, delivered this sermon July 14 at Ohev Sholom--The National Synagogue.