iTorah

Loading, Please Wait...

v3.0.10
A Yissachar / Zebulun Partnership in Loving Memory of Yishak ben Simcha A"H & Felicia bat Miriam A"H
Rabbi David Sutton

Daily Bitachon

The Month of Elul 52 - Bitachon and Rosh Hashanah

Lectured by Rabbi David Sutton

Published
September 8, 2026
Duration
09:15

Daily Bitachon: Bitachon and Rosh Hashanah

Welcome to Daily Bitachon. Today, we focus on our core mission—bitachon (trust in Hashem)—and explore how it fundamentally defines our approach to Rosh Hashanah.

The Tur (Orach Chaim 581) quotes a Midrash on the verse, "Mi goy gadol..."—"For who is a great nation that has God so close to them?" The Midrash asks: Which nation is like the Jewish people, who know the customs and ways of their God, and understand how He judges?

Analyzing this phrase, the Beit Yosef asks: Where in the word gadol (great) do we see that we know the ways of God? He explains that the word gadol shares a root with gidul—to be nurtured or raised. We are a nation raised by God, living, so to speak, inside the King's palace. Because of that intimacy, we know His ways and understand how His heavenly court operates.

When an ordinary person stands trial before an earthly ruler with their life hanging in the balance, they dress in black, let their beard grow unkempt, neglect their grooming, and tremble in absolute uncertainty. Think of a fallen leader being led out in prison garb, utterly broken compared to his former days of power. Yet the Jewish people do not act this way on the Day of Judgment. We dress in festive white, cut our hair, groom our beards, trim our nails, partake in lavish meals, and rejoice. That is not how people facing a grave tribunal normally behave.

Why do we do this? The Tur explains: because we know Hashem will perform a miracle for us. It is as if we are celebrating the miracle in advance. While our ultimate rejoicing culminates on Sukkot, we enter Rosh Hashanah already confident in that miraculous redemption. It resembles a childless couple buying a crib, or an unmarried woman purchasing her wedding dress with steadfast faith. We rejoice because we trust that Hashem will grant us life and vindication even before the trial concludes.

Rav Wolbe writes in Alei Shur (Vol. 2, p. 434) that, in truth, we ought to be dancing with joy when we recite Aleinu on Rosh Hashanah; it is only the solemn eimata dedina (awe of judgment) that restrains us from breaking into dance.

Rav Chaim Friedlander raises a profound question here: Does this unwavering confidence not border on presumption or false security? Judgment is intensely serious, and who among us can honestly proclaim, "My heart is pure from sin"? On what merit are we relying?

He answers through the verse itself: Mi goy gadol—who is a great nation. This certainty does not belong to the solitary individual standing strictly on their own record. When evaluated as isolated individuals, we pass before Him kivnei maron—like single sheep—and none can guarantee their outcome. Rather, this bitachon stems from being an inseparable part of the collective Jewish people. The Jewish nation as a whole is promised eternal continuity and boundless heavenly mercy. Therefore, an essential prerequisite to this bitachon is nullifying oneself to the tzibbur—integrating fully into the community. When you stand embedded within the collective Jewish people, you partake in Hashem's overarching promise to perform a miracle.

Where else do we find this principle that reliance itself forces open the gates of salvation? At the splitting of the sea (Kriyat Yam Suf). The Ohr HaChaim HaKadosh explains that at the Red Sea, the attribute of strict justice (middat hadin) prosecuted the Jewish people fiercely, asking why they deserved salvation any more than the Egyptians. Strict justice stood as a barrier against the miracle. Hashem then told Moshe, "Speak to the children of Israel and let them journey forward." The Ohr HaChaim comments: Hashem was telling them to advance based solely on reliance upon the miracle. Marching whole-heartedly into the waters with absolute trust tilted the heavenly scales—as he writes, great is faith and trust in its power to decide the verdict for good.

The Nefesh HaChaim echoes this principle. When Hashem asked Moshe, "Why do you cry out to Me?" He meant that the outcome rested upon the people themselves: if they stepped forward into the raging waters with unshakeable emunah and bitachon, the sea would split. The Imrei Emet explains that this is precisely what occurs every Rosh Hashanah. We step into the Day of Judgment leaning entirely on Hashem, trusting in His ultimate promise of life and continuity. This bitachon is not passive wishful thinking; it is an active reliance upon a divine guarantee.

This intimate bond between the splitting of the sea and Rosh Hashanah is woven throughout our prayers. In the Musaf service of Rosh Hashanah, we recite thirty foundational verses. The first unit is Malchiyot (Hashem's Sovereignty), and its opening verse is: "Hashem yimloch le'olam va'ed"—"Hashem will reign forever and ever." This line concludes Aleinu, which originates from the Rosh Hashanah liturgy.

Where does "Hashem yimloch le'olam va'ed" come from? It is from Az Yashir, sung at the shores of the sea. Thus, the very first verse affirming Hashem's eternal kingdom directly evokes Kriyat Yam Suf—a miracle catalyzed entirely by bitachon. These two moments mirror each other: the reliance that split the sea, and the reliance that carries us through Rosh Hashanah each year.

Furthermore, the fourth verse of Zichronot states: "Zecher asah lenifle'otav, channun verachum Hashem"—"He made a memorial for His wonders; gracious and merciful is Hashem." Why is creating a remembrance of His wonders described as an act of grace and mercy? The Chida cites the Arizal, who taught that every year, the unique spiritual light present at the original miracle shines anew. Time is not merely linear; we cycle through the spiritual seasons. On Pesach, the light that shattered the chains of Egypt is rekindled as zman cheiruteinu. When we remember a miracle, we tap into that recurring reservoir of divine energy and reignite its power in our personal lives. That is why we recall the Exodus every single day right before the Amidah—to evoke the reality of the sea splitting.

What original miracles of Rosh Hashanah do we reawaken on this day?

First, the very creation of Adam was an act of pure, unmerited mercy. The ministering angels argued against creating man, foreseeing that humanity would sin and corrupt the world. Yet Hashem created Adam anyway. That miracle recurs each year: Hashem grants us another year of breath, potential, and life, even when our merits alone do not warrant it.

Second, on the very day Adam was created, he sinned. Strict justice demanded immediate death, per the warning: "On the day you eat of it, you shall surely die." Yet Hashem mercifully defined that "day" according to His own calendar—where a day is a thousand years—granting Adam a long life. This divine mitigation of judgment (hamtakat hadin) awakens anew for us every Rosh Hashanah.

Rosh Hashanah is built on the reality that we rely on Hashem to perform a miracle for us, just as He did at the sea.

I once heard a beautiful thought from Chacham Yehuda Moallem: The Midrash indicates that the sea did not split all at once for everyone; it split when the water reached a person's nostrils and they realized, "I have reached the end of my natural strength; I need Hashem." Chacham Yehuda explained: If a person is humble and keeps their head bowed low, the water reaches their nose quickly, and the miracle arrives early. But if a person walks with their head held high and their nose in the air, it takes much longer for them to realize they are in trouble.

This is the essence of the bent shofar—it represents our humility. When we set aside our ego and recognize that we can accomplish nothing on our own, we cast all our trust upon Hashem. That humility activates the miraculous salvation of Rosh Hashanah: the grace that brought Adam into existence and the mercy that softened his judgment.

Recognizing that miracle brings salvation in its own right. As the piyut states: "Shir v'yosha mocheh pesha"—the song of Az Yashir erases sins. Celebrating God's miracles opens the channel for total forgiveness.

When we recite that foundational verse in Musaf—"Hashem yimloch le'olam va'ed"—let us internalize it with the same clarity and trust our ancestors had at the shores of the sea. Have a wonderful day.