The Gemara in Masechet Shabbat tells the story of a great sage who went on somewhat of a “vacation,” and it did not turn out all that well.
Rabbi Elazar ben Arach was considered the most outstanding Torah scholar of his time. His mentor, Rabbi Yohanan ben Zakai, remarked that if all the Rabbis of his time would be placed on one side of a scale, and Rabbi Elazar ben Arach on the other, he would outweigh them all in his Torah greatness. Once, the Gemara tells, this towering giant went to a certain town where the people frequently indulged in physical enjoyment. They ate, drank fine wine, and bathed in special baths. Rabbi Elazar took a little “vacation,” in some sense, and to one extent or another, indulged together with the townspeople.
When he returned to the yeshiva, he was called to read from the Sefer Torah. He began reading, and right away he made a mistake. He misread the words החודש הזה לכם – “This month is for you” – as החרש היה לבם – “Their heart was deaf.” Rabbi Elazar’s students prayed on his behalf, and his knowledge was fully restored.
The Maharsha explains that Rabbi Elazar’s involvement in physical enjoyment diminished from his focus on Torah, and so his reading did not flow properly. His concentration was disrupted, to the point where he could not even read the words of the Humash correctly.
There is much more to say about this surprising story, but for us it suffices that this story should sound somewhat familiar to many of us, particularly as the summer comes to an end and we begin heading back to our regular routines. Most people allow themselves some degree of vacationing during July and August. We spend more time enjoying things like barbeques, swimming, sports, and recreational trips. And very often, this results in a diminished focus on mitzvot. Many people end up relaxing their standards, and lowering their level of concentration, over the course of the summer. When the summer ends and they try getting back to their routine, they – like Rabbi Elazar ben Arach – have some difficulty. The transition does not proceed very smoothly. Like a Major League pitcher who comes back after an extended period on the disabled list with a little “zip” missing from his fastball, we lose a little bit of the “zip” on things like tefilah, learning, halachic observance, and general spiritual focus.
Fortunately, the Jewish calendar offers a great deal of help with this process. The month of Elul almost always coincides with the final week or weeks of August, and Elul is precisely about refocusing, redirecting our attention to Hashem and to mitzvot. Elul is exactly what we need as we make the difficult transition from the vacation mode of summer to our regular routines.
Building the Relationship
The world and our lives are arranged such that certain times are perfectly suited for certain things. For example, there is nothing like hot cocoa on a snow day, when we stay home with our kids. We can prepare hot cocoa on any other day, and it just won’t be the same. There is something about a snow day that makes hot cocoa perfect. Saturday night is the time to go out. We can go out on any other night, or during any other day, but there’s no comparison between that and going out on Saturday night.
This is reflected in our religion, as well. Halachah requires that we pray Shaharit before the end of the fourth halachic hour of the day. If a person prays after that time, even though he says the right words and concentrates intently on the words, it just isn’t the same as praying in the early morning hours. There is something special about those hours that make them especially suitable for prayer, just like Saturday night is especially suitable for a trip to the pizza parlor.
Elul is the time for building our relationship with Hashem. Of course, this is something we ought to strive to do throughout the year, but no time is better than Elul. This is what the month is all about. Tradition teaches us that the pasuk which captures the essence of Elul is the pasuk in Shir Hashirim, אני לדודי ודודי לי – “I am for my Beloved, and my Beloved is for me.” The first letters of these four words spell אלול, the name of this month (אני לדודי ודודי לי), because this is what this month is all about – building our close, loving relationship with Hashem.
Elul is not just about preparing for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Even if, hypothetically, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur would not be observed right after the month of Elul, this would still be a special month of heightened religious awareness. Elul is not about preparation; it’s about redirecting our focus onto strengthening our relationship with Hashem. Of course, Hashem specifically arranged that Elul would precede Rosh Hashanah, for our immense benefit, so we go into the day of judgment having enhanced our connection to Him. But this is not the essential nature of Elul. It’s not about preparing, but about building – building our relationship with Hashem.
We might explain this concept by way of an analogy to a married couple. The burdens and responsibilities of their ordinary routine do not allow them to pay as much attention to their relationship as they would like. The pressures of childrearing, running the household, and earning a livelihood makes it difficult to focus on each other and nurture their bond. Therefore, every so often, perhaps once a year, they go away together alone so they can give each other the level of focus and attention that they want. They strengthen their relationship so that months later, when the husband is working long hours in the office until late at night, and the wife is busy running errands and caring for the children, they still feel bonded and connected, feeding off the period of special closeness they enjoyed during their vacation together.
This is what Elul is. Ideally, we should be intensely focused on our connection to Hashem at all times, 365 days a year. Realistically speaking, however, as with husband and wife, the bond sometimes fades just a bit. Our day-to-day obligations and responsibilities can, and generally do, diminish from our spiritual focus. Elul is the time to invest more in our relationship with Hashem, like a husband and wife going away to invest more in their relationship. It could be that in February, as we are shoveling our driveway rushing to get to work, and then school meetings, errands and semachot, we won’t be as focused as we would like. But if we work to strengthen our relationship now, in Elul, that awareness and closeness will remain with us, on one level or another, even during our pressured routine throughout the rest of the year.
The Kiddush Cup in the Tefillin Bag
There was a boy named Gary whose family belonged to a synagogue but was not strongly connected to religious observance. When Gary was 12 years old, his parents began feverishly preparing for his bar-mitzvah. They hired a high-end rock band to play music, and ordered especially designed T-shirts for all the guests. The décor, the menu, the photography, the entertainment and all the accoutrements were all meticulously and painstakingly arranged.
At one point during this flurry of activity, the father came up with the idea of having Gary learn to recite kiddush. The father had fond, nostalgic memories of his grandfather’s kiddush on Friday night, and happened to have his grandfather’s kiddush cup in his home, an heirloom with great sentimental value. It would be very special and appropriate, he thought, to have his son recite kiddush with that cup at his bar-mitzvah. Although the bar-mitzvah celebration was being held on Sunday, the father went ahead with the idea.
Gary learned the kiddush, and on the day of his bar-mitzvah, he stood up, proudly wearing his tefillin for the first time, held his great-grandfather’s stunning silver cup which was filled with wine, and recited the text beautifully.
The Rabbi of the family’s shul saw the magnificent kiddush cup, and was curious. He went over to the table after Gary returned to the dancefloor, examined the cup with great interest, and decided he would do the family a favor by washing it for them. He brought it to a sink, and washed it.
When the celebration ended, and the family was packing up their things, they noticed that the kiddush cup was missing. They searched high and low, but could not find it. The father went over to the president of the synagogue, who had stayed until the end, and asked if he had seen the cup. The president said that he had seen the Rabbi take the cup, but had not seen it since.
Gary and his father were very confused. What would the Rabbi had done with their cup? They thought they should call the Rabbi to ask what he did with it, but then they decided this would be disrespectful.
The experience left Gary very resentful towards the Rabbi. He couldn’t believe that the Rabbi would take something of such value and significance and not return it.
Years later, Gary went off to college, met a Jewish girl, and got engaged. Before the wedding, Gary’s father convinced him to take his bride to meet with the Rabbi, to hear a little bit about what a Jewish marriage is supposed to be. Gary initially refused, but finally, out of respect for his father, he agreed. He scheduled a meeting, and came with his fiancée to the Rabbi’s office.
At the meeting, the Rabbi spoke at length about the value of honesty and integrity as the foundation of a strong, happy and successful marriage. After a few minutes, Gary couldn’t take it anymore. He jumped out of his chair and shouted, “How can you say this, Rabbi!”
His fiancée blushed, and the Rabbi sat there in shock.
“How can you tell me about honesty when you stole my family’s kiddush cup!”
“What are you talking about?” the Rabbi asked.
Gary told the Rabbi about how the kiddush cup disappeared after his bar-mitzvah some ten years earlier, and that he knew that the Rabbi had taken it.
“That’s ridiculous,” the Rabbi said. “I would never take another person’s kiddush cup!”
After thinking for a couple of minutes, the Rabbi remembered what had happened.
“I took it to clean it for you,” he explained, “and then I wanted to give it back, but you were dancing. So I decided to put it someplace where I knew you would find it – I put it in your tefillin bag!”
We can both laugh and cry at this story, of a boy who never found his family’s kiddush cup because he never wore tefillin – even once – after his bar-mitzvah. But let us ask ourselves honestly about our own commitment to tefillin. Sure, we wear tefillin every day. However, how much thought and feeling do we put into this mitzvah? Are we so sure that we would notice a shiny silver kiddush cup in our tefillin bag, given how quickly and mindlessly we so often put on tefillin?
Elul is when we need to pay a little more attention to the mitzvot that we do, to put a little more heart into them.
As we said, Elul is the time to enhance our love for Hashem. Loving Hashem is one of the Torah’s commands: ואהבת את ה' אלוקיך – “You shall love Hashem your G-d.” In the very next pasuk, the Torah commands that we must place its words על לבבך – upon our hearts. It has been suggested that this is the way we fulfill the command of loving Hashem – by using our hearts, by putting some thought and feeling into our mitzvot. Rather than just go through the motions and follow our daily routine of mitzvot, Shabbat and holidays, we need to get our hearts involved, and put our minds and our feelings into the mitzvot that we observe.
Code Red
This is what Elul is for. It is the time to pay attention, to give a little more focus to what we do. It might be too much for us to stay intently focused all year round. Perhaps that isn’t realistic for us. But for one month, we can be more focused and attentive. For one month, we can put in a little extra, and invest some feeling into our mitzvot. A husband and wife cannot spend all day every day focused on each other, busy as they are with their myriad responsibilities. But when they take their annual vacation, this is what they do in order to strengthen their relationship. For three or four days, they manage to put everything on hold to focus on one another. And this is our job during the month of Elul.
The Department of Homeland Security, which was established after the 9/11 terror attacks, has a color-coded alert system to identify the level of a terror risk at any given time. When the threat of a terror attack is very high, the department declares “code orange,” and when the risk is especially high, it declares “code red.” Special protocols and security measures are implemented in accordance with the threat level at any given point in time.
One might wonder, wouldn’t it be wiser just to keep the level on “code red” all the time? If the objective is to prevent terror attacks, why not just maintain the highest level of caution and alertness around the clock, 24/7? Why should we ever lower our level of security?
The answer, of course, is that this is not practical. The “code red” measures are expensive and inconvenient. Our society could not function normally if it were always adhering to the highest levels of caution. Therefore, these levels are reserved for the times when there is an especially serious threat.
The same is true of our connection to Hashem. It might not be realistic for us to remain on “high alert” and attentively focus on every mitzvah we do each and every day of the year. Some exceptional people are capable of this lofty level, but for the vast majority of us, this is not yet possible. For one month, however, we can be more focused and attentive. For one month, we can raise our alertness level. If we don’t feel quite ready to move ourselves to “code red” during Elul, let us at least try to move it to “code orange.” The important thing is that we are making time and making an effort to enhance our relationship with Hashem, to focus more and be more mindful of our connection to Him.
Three Suggestions
Here are three humble suggestions of how we can be a bit more focused and attentive during this month of Elul.
1) The first berachah of the Amidah
The Shulhan Aruch rules explicitly that if one does not concentrate on the words as he recites the first berachah of the Amidah (through the words ברוך אתה ה' מגן אברהם), he has not fulfilled his prayer obligation. In principle, therefore, if one recited the Amidah without concentrating during the first berachah, he should be required to repeat the entire Amidah. In practice, we do not repeat the Amidah in such a case, because we presume that if we did not have kavanah (intention) the first time, we will fail to concentrate the second time, as well.
As mentioned, this is a halachah in the Shulhan Aruch, not some deep, esoteric Kabbalistic concept. Ideally, therefore, we must ensure each and every time we pray the Amidah, three times every day, to concentrate on every word of the first berachah. For many of us, though, this might be too high an expectation. So at very least, let us try to make a special effort during Elul. In this month, which is all about putting in a little extra, we can and should pay special attention when we pray, at least during the first berachah of the Amidah.
2) פותח את ידך
The Gemara teaches that if one recites תהילה לדוד – what we customarily call “Ashreh” – three times each day, he is guaranteed a share in the next world. The reason is because this chapter contains the special pasuk, פותח את ידך ומשביע לכל חי רצון – “You open Your hand and willfully satiate every living creature.” When a person focuses on this message three times each day, reflecting on the fact that Hashem provides us with our sustenance, he becomes the kind of person who deserves a share in the next world.
A man once approached the Maggid of Duvna and said, “I’ve been reciting Ashreh three times each day for about 40 years, and I don’t feel that it’s made me anyone special, like I am necessarily worthy of a share in the world to come. Why?”
The Maggid answered by telling the story of a doctor who examined an ill patient and then prescribed medication.
“Don’t worry,” the doctor assured the man, “I’ve had many patients with this exact same illness, and after taking this medicine three times a day for two weeks, they were cured.”
Two weeks later, however, the patient returned to the doctor, in even worse shape than he was the first time.
“What happened?!” the doctor cried. “You look terrible. Didn’t you take the medicine??”
“Yes!” the patient shouted, embittered. “It didn’t work!”
“How can that be?” the doctor wondered. “Are you sure that you took it three times each day?”
“I’m sure,” the patient said. “Every morning, afternoon and evening, I gargled the liquid and then spit it out.”
“What???” the doctor asked, incredulously. “Didn’t you realize that you have to swallow the medicine? Gargling isn’t going to help you!”
The Maggid explained to the man that the same is true of reciting Ashreh. Just “gargling” – mouthing the words – is not going to transform us. We need to “swallow” the words of Ashreh, to internalize them, to take a moment three times a day to contemplate the fact that פותח את ידך, that Hashem lovingly feeds us and provides us with our needs at all times throughout our lives. If we do this three times a day, day after day, for many years, we are guaranteed to be the kind of people who rightfully deserve a share in the next world.
At least during Elul, we can make a special effort to concentrate when we recite this pasuk, and take a moment to reflect on the belief that Hashem provides us with our needs.
3) סמיכת גאולה לתפילה
One of the strict requirements that apply to our morning Shaharit prayer is סמיכת גאולה לתפילה – that we must begin the Amidah prayer immediately after reciting the berachah of ברוך אתה ה' גאל ישראל. Following Shema, we recite a section known as גאולה, in which we describe how Hashem has delivered us from our enemies, paying special attention to the Exodus from Egypt and the splitting of the sea. We conclude this section with the berachah of גאל ישראל, and halachah requires going directly into the Amidah, without even the slightest interruption.
Rabbenu Yonah, in his commentary to Masechet Berachot, gives two explanations for this requirement; we will mention here just the second approach. He notes that after Yetziat Mitzrayim, when Beneh Yisrael saw the great miracles Hashem performed for them, and how He defeated the mighty Egyptian Empire, they were inspired with faith. As the Torah relates, ויאמינו בה' ובמשה עבדו – “They believed in G-d and in Moshe, His servant.” We are to follow this example, and proceed directly from גאולה, the section discussing Hashem’s power and miracles, to prayer – the ultimate expression of faith. Reflecting on Hashem’s unlimited power, and His unlimited love for His people, should automatically and immediately lead us to tefilah, inspire us to turn to Him and ask for everything we need.
Every time we pray Shaharit, we observe this halachah, but rarely, if ever, do we reflect upon the deep, profound message that underlies it. Perhaps during Elul we can make a little more of an effort to think about our prayer, and to reflect upon this theme of סמיכת גאולה לתפילה, that Hashem has unlimited capabilities and unlimited love for us, and we should therefore turn to Him and depend on Him for everything we need in our lives.
In conclusion, we might draw an imperfect analogy to the baseball season. The season spans 162 games, from early spring to early autumn. Invariably, even the greatest players are going to be a bit sluggish at various points during the long, grueling season. They might be a bit rusty when the season begins, and they might be a bit fatigued and lethargic in the dogdays of July and August, playing every day in 90-degree heat. This is perfectly normal, and to be expected. It is all but impossible to remain in “high gear” constantly throughout 162 games.
But in October, if a team makes it to the post-season, competing in the playoffs and World Series, every single player is focused and locked in during every inning of every game. Even the team that ends up losing plays in “high gear,” with intensity and concentration, throughout the entire post-season. During this critical time, there is no sluggishness.
Elul usually falls in late August and early September, but it is our “October.” This is the critical period, the time when we are to be especially focused and locked in. Let us be more mindful and attentive, and pay greater attention to every mitzvah we perform – such as our daily tefilot, our Torah learning, and our relationships to our parents, spouse and children – and put in a little extra. If we do, then we can raise our connection to Hashem to the next level, and then continue building it, one step at a time, throughout our entire lives, amen.