There was once a man who was mired in financial ruin, drowning in oceans of debt and without a job, and who was walking with his son when they passed by a store. The son said he was thirsty, and so they went into the store. The father picked up a can of soda and approached the shopkeeper.
“Please, kind sir,” the man said, “I am very poor, I cannot pay my bills. Might I ask that I be given this can for free? My son is thirsty.”
The shopkeeper graciously agreed.
The impoverished man then thrust his hand into his pocket, and pulled out some small change.
“Actually, I have a small amount of money with me,” he told the shopkeeper. He counted his change, and it turned out that he had precisely half the price of the soda can. The man smiled and handed it to the storekeeper.
The storekeeper, surprised, warmly expressed his appreciation. “Wow, thank you so much!”
After the man and his son left, the son turned to his father and asked, “Dad, if you knew you had some money, why did you first ask if you can have the can for free?”
The father replied, “You see, if I would have right away told the storekeeper that I have only half the price of a can, and asked if he could give it to me for that price, this would have sounded very rude. He would not have let me do it. But once I explained that I am poor, and asked for a free gift, offering half the price sounded like a very kind gesture on my part.”
This story has been told as an analogy to explain the meaning of the Selihot prayers which we recite throughout the month of Elul in preparation for Rosh Hashanah, the day when we are judged for our conduct over the course of this past year.
Comparing mitzvot to money, we are all like that poor man. If we are honest with ourselves, we will acknowledge that we are very deficient. We have not always acted the way we should. We have not always spoken the way we should. We have not always prayed when or the way we should. But this does not mean that we have nothing. We all, baruch Hashem, perform mitzvot. We do a lot of things right. So, like the poor man in the story, we come before Hashem and plead for mercy and compassion, saying that we have nothing. In our Selihot prayers, we openly admit our failings, we confess to have fallen far short of what is expected of us, and we beg Hashem to mercifully forgive us, to accept our prayers and grant our requests even though we have nothing. Then, on Rosh Hashanah, we come with the mitzvot we have performed, and Hashem graciously accepts the “half-price” that we give Him, as it were.
Feeling Uneasy
This cute analogy help crystallize for us one of the purposes of Elul, and that is to engender within us a certain degree of uneasiness as we head into the season of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.
Rav Yisrael Salanter said that in his time, when the hazan announced on the Shabbat before Rosh Hodesh Elul that the month of Elul was starting that week, the people would begin trembling. It is told that the Hafetz Haim was seen crying in terror when Elul was announced. The very word “Elul” would evoke fear. While we are certainly very far from this level, the general concept is relevant even to us. The period of Elul is intended to shake us, if only slightly, from our complacency. It should make us at least a little uncomfortable and uneasy. Elul is like the bill from the credit card company which is sent for the third time, warning of the consequences if we fail to pay. We know it’s time to “pay,” and we are worried that we won’t have enough to cover the bill.
The story is told of a Russian soldier during the reign of the brutal Czar Nicholas I who once approached a man and informed him that the Czar wished to see him. This man was inebriated at the time, and so he ignored the command. The soldier repeated the order, but the drunken man again ignored him.
Later, the man was put on trial for ignoring the soldier’s orders. The man pleaded innocence, noting that he ignored the soldier only because he was intoxicated.
The soldier then retorted, “It doesn’t matter how drunk you are. If you hear the words ‘Czar Nicholas,’ you should immediately be scared and respond!”
The word “Elul” should have an immediate effect upon us. It doesn’t matter how “drunk” we are, how preoccupied our minds are with summer vacation, with our work, or with our myriad responsibilities. When we hear that Elul has arrived, we must come to attention, recognizing that this is serious.
This is the first concept of Elul – feeling a bit uneasy, a bit tense, a bit uncomfortable with ourselves knowing that we will soon stand trial.
Think!!
The Tur – the code of halachah upon which the Shulhan Aruch is based – discusses in one place a number of interesting features of השיבנו אבינו, the fifth berachah of the Amidah prayer, in which we pray to G-d to help us repent. One of the aspects of this blessing addressed by the Tur is its position in the Amidah – immediately following the blessing of אתה חונן, in which we pray for wisdom and intelligence. The Tur explains that this sequence is very significant, reflecting the notion that repentance must be preceded by intelligent thought. Without wisdom, we cannot perform teshuvah. And so we first ask Hashem for intelligence before asking for help performing teshuvah.
The Tur here teaches us something simple but critical: the first step of teshuvah is thinking. We need to think. We need to be mindful. We need to pay attention. We need to reflect on our behavior and how we should be doing thing differently. We need to stop living in “auto pilot” mode, acting mindlessly, on impulse, and start to really give serious thought to whether we are doing things the way we should.
This is a second purpose of Elul. It is a time to think. We all live according to fixed routines, often without thinking about whether what we’re doing is correct. Elul is the time to think and consider if maybe some things we do need to be changed.
I would like to point to just two examples of areas where people tend not to think, and perhaps act without paying attention whether they are acting correctly.
1) Immodest attire
Every so often, particularly during the summer, when I walk around and see how some girls and women in the community dress, I start wondering how they allow themselves to dress this way. I understand that not everyone is going to dress like a Rebbetzin in Lakewood, and I understand that the Torah’s standards of tzeniut are difficult for many to observe. But I have trouble understanding how some people are not embarrassed going outside dressed so inappropriately. The only explanation I have is that these girls and women simply are not thinking about it. They open fashion magazines, see what is being worn, and assume that this is what they should wear. Elul is the time to think, to reconsider, to give some thought to whether we are dressing the way we are supposed to.
2) Following previous generations’ standards
Another example of “thoughtless” behavior is the attitude among some in our community that anything our parents and grandparents did when they first came to the United States is good enough for us. The argument goes that our standards of observance when it comes to things like Shabbat, kashrut, family purity and dress need not exceed the standards that were accepted in the Syrian Jewish community here several decades ago.
I call this attitude “thoughtless” because it bespeaks willful ignorance of the obvious differences between our generation and prior generations.
Back then, our community offered far less opportunities for Torah education than it does today. There were also few kosher restaurants and supermarkets. Additionally, the first generations of Jewish immigrants on these shores faced enormous pressure to work on Shabbat to earn a living – pressure that none of us can even begin to imagine. If we choose not to think, and just act mindlessly, we can allow ourselves to do what previous generations did, and no more. But if we think about it, we will realize that we have no excuse. Torah education in our community has grown in leaps and bounds, both quantitatively and qualitatively. We have hundreds of wonderful, knowledgeable and devoted Rabbis teaching and guiding both youngsters and adults. We have countless kosher eateries and stores, as well as mikvaot, shuls and other religious institutions and organizations. The compromised standards that became accepted due to the hardships faced by the first generations of immigrants are no longer justifiable. We are midgets standing on the shoulders of the giants of the previous generations, capable of seeing further than they did thanks to their hard work and sacrifice. We need to start thinking if maybe we are following relaxed standards that were perhaps understandable years ago, but can no longer be excused.
Elul is here to make us think, to make us reassess, to make us take a step back from our routine and see if maybe there are things we can do better. This is the first critical step to teshuvah.
Waving to the Captain
A man once came to a beach and saw a group of boys running about in the sand and playing together, while one boy was off to the side, staring anxiously at the sea. The man decided to approach the boy and ask why he was not with his friends.
“I’m waiting for a ship that’s going to pass by,” the boy explained.
“A ship?” the man asked, laughing under his breath. “Why do you think a ship is going to come here? Ships don’t normally come so close to the shore unless they’re docking!”
“No, there is a very large ship that is going to pass right along the shore, and I am waiting for it to come,” the boy said.
“Ok, but why is it so important to you to see this ship?”
“Because I want to see the captain,” the boy replied, excitedly. “I am going to wave to him when he brings his ship here, and he is going to wave back.”
“Why are you so sure that the captain is going to wave back?” the man asked. “And why are you so eager to wave and to see him wave back?”
“The captain is my father. He’s been at sea, and we have not seen each other in a very long time. He is going to bring his ship near the shore so I can see him and he can see me, and we are going to wave to each other.”
This story was told as an analogy to explain another aspect of the month of Elul. During most of the year, we might have drifted away from Hashem. Busy with our lives, even as we perform mitzvot and make time for Torah, we might not have been as connected to Hashem as we should. During this month of Elul, He comes close to us. He brings His “ship” to the “shore,” so we can see Him. And all He asks from us is that we “wave,” that we show our love and commitment. He does not expect us to do anything drastic. But we need to “wave,” to make some small but meaningful gestures to show that we care, that we are trying, that we want to get closer.
We are all familiar with the concept that the word אלול represents the pasuk אני לדודי ודודי לי – “I am for my Beloved, and my Beloved is for me.” Elul is a time when our relationship with Hashem grows stronger and closer. He comes close to us, and we need to go to greet Him and show our love for Him.
This is why it is customary during Elul to take on a number of modest measures of enhancing our connection to Hashem. Even if we ultimately find that we cannot keep them going after this month, we would have at least given it a shot. The point is to “wave,” to show Hashem that we take our relationship with Him seriously and we want to make it better. How successful we are at the end does not matter nearly as much as our sincere effort to try.
A book was published in 1994 entitled Built to Last: Successful Habits of Visionary Companies. One of the successful habits documented in this book is the constant effort to improve. Successful companies are constantly trying new things, constantly testing new ideas, and constantly coming up with new products and new strategies. Some new ideas work, some of them – perhaps most of them – don’t. But the key is to keep trying until something works. This is how a business grows and becomes successful – by constantly trying new ways to improve, without being discouraged when the new ideas don’t work.
We should all be in the business of being good people and good Jews. And the way we become successful in this business is by constantly taking on new measures, trying new ways to do things better. Whether we are able to continue doing it the rest of our lives, for the next year, for the next month, or just for a week, we’ve tried. And this is all that is expected of us.
I would like to offer two ideas of measures that we can try to take on as our “wave” to our Father, the Captain, who is coming near us during this month.
First, the Gemara teaches that there is special value in being among the first ten men in shul for prayer. This is brought down in the Shulhan Aruch. The Maharsha commentary explains that when ten men assemble for prayer, the Shechinah (Divine Presence) descends, and thus the first ten who arrive are credited with bringing the Shechinah to the synagogue. This is truly a very significant achievement – to be among those who bring Hashem’s presence into the shul! Perhaps during this month of Elul, we can all make a little more of an effort to arrive on time, or even early, to shul. Again, this might not last beyond Elul. But we will never know if we don’t try. This is a simple, yet ever so beautiful, measure that we can all take on in our effort to raise our standards during this month of Elul.
Another example is Torah learning.
Each time the Daf Yomi cycle begins anew, many thousands of Jews decide to join, and they start learning a page of Gemara each day. By the time the Daf Yomi reaches the third masechet, Eruvin, which is an exceedingly difficult masechet, many of these people are no longer learning the daily page of Gemara. But at least they tried. They probably completed Masechet Berachot and a good deal of Masechet Shabbat, and nobody can take that away from them. Nothing can be lost by trying.
No matter what level a person is on, and no matter how busy he is, there is some additional learning that he can take on. For some it might be Daf Yomi, for others it might be a class in the synagogue, for others it might be listening to recorded classes on the way to and from work. And there are many other possibilities, as well. The important thing is that we, like a successful company, are trying something new. We need not feel intimidated by the prospect of a major, permanent life change. The change we make does not have to be major, and it’s ok if ends up being impermanent. We just have to try something. We just have to choose something and give it a test run. This is what the “Captain,” our loving Father, wants as He comes near us during this special month of Elul.
Losing the Battle, Winning the War
Rav Shimshon Pincus was once leaving the bet midrash on Rosh Hashanah and saw in the hallway a seventeen-year-old student sitting and crying. The Rabbi went over to the boy and asked what was wrong.
“Every Rosh Hashanah, I tell myself that the coming year will be different,” the youngster explained. “Year after year, I tell myself I’m going to change, but I never do. It never works.”
Rav Pincus told the boy that one of his children once got hurt and needed stitches, and so he brought him to the hospital. This was during the Yom Kippur war, when, tragically, many Israeli soldiers were killed or wounded in action. As he walked through the hospital with his son, Rav Pincus noticed a great deal of commotion in the hallway. It turned out that a soldier had been rushed to the hospital from the battlefield. He had sustained a gunshot wound, and the doctors successfully removed the bullet.
Sometime after the surgery was completed, the doctor told the soldier that he was being discharged.
“You can go home now,” the doctor said.
“Home?!” the soldier shouted. “No way! My comrades are there on the battlefield, and they need me. I’m going right back to help them.”
Rav Pincus turned to the despondent student and said, “That soldier lost the battle, but he insisted on winning the war. He was hurt, but he didn’t quit. He went right back and tried again.
“Life is a war. We have challenges that we need to overcome. Sometimes we succeed, sometimes we don’t. The key is to keep trying. Each time we fall, we have to get back up. Every time we get ‘shot,’ we’ve got to head right back to the battlefield as soon as we can. This is what it’s all about!”
This is what Elul is – a time to try. It does not matter what happened last year, the year before, the year before that, or for the past twenty years. What matters is what’s happening right now, as Hashem passes right near us and is seeing how we respond, what we are doing to show our love and devotion.
Elul is here. Let’s start thinking and reflecting, and let’s try something new to show that this is serious. Let’s not be afraid to try.