Sukkot: Filling the Vacuum – Literally

by Rav Yehuda Zoldan, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

As we know, the High Priest entered the Holy of Holies on Yom Kippur – a place where no one else was ever allowed to enter – and performed the service under the watchful eyes of absolutely no one other than G-d. We too enter a very holy place just a few days later: to our Sukkot. "The King has brought me to His inner chambers, we will rejoice and be happy with you" (Song of Songs 1,4). On the festival of Sukkot, the entire Sukkah is an inner chamber of the King of Kings, and His holiness is upon it.

There is a very profound connection between Sukkah and Mishkan/Mikdash (Tabernacle and Holy Temple). The first large Sukkah in our history was the Mishkan in the Desert – and its construction began on the 15th day of Tishrei. This is why we sit in our Sukkot for a week beginning on that very date [see the calculations and explanation of the Vilna Gaon in his commentary to the above verse]. 

After several centuries in which our Divine worship took place in the Mishkan, the First Temple was built. King Shlomo dedicated it in regal fashion on the days close to the Sukkot festival (Kings I 8, 65-66). Several laws of the Sukkah were derived from the Mishkan, such as its minimum height and the type of shade it must have. 

Sukkah: A Personal Mikdash

On the other hand: While the measurements, structure, and location of both the Mishkan and Mikdash were Divinely determined, a Sukkah is very different. It has certain minimum Halakhic requirements, but aside from these, every person may make it as large or small as he wants, with whatever walls, s'chach (which serves as a roof), decorations, arrangement, utensils, etc. that he chooses. It is each person's choice. Every Sukkah is different, and everyone builds his private Mikdash in accordance with his character and desires. 

One can also decide, aside from the minimum requirements, how long he wants to remain in the Sukkah, and what he wants to do there. One can, and must, decide how he fills the expanse that is generally a regular yard or porch, but which is now delimited by walls and s'chach for one week and thus receives dimensions of sanctity. 

The Zohar describes the Sukkah as tzila d'mehemnuta, "the shadow of the Divine Presence." The basic obligation to eat meals in the Sukkah is well-known, but beyond that, one can decide how much other time he wishes to spend there, and in what way – i.e., how much sanctity he wishes to absorb. He can choose to make the Sukkah his "permanent home" for the week, in the spirit of the Halakha [Jewish Law] – just as the High Priest does not leave the Holy Temple. Every person is like a High Priest in his own Sukkah. 

After the holiday has ended, when we dismantle the Sukkah and put away its walls and poles for the next year, routine returns to the yard and porch – and then we face the need to check what impression the holiday has made upon us. We must ascertain how we will remember Sukkot during the coming year even without the temporary closing up of this space by the Sukkah. Why is this important? 

Our ability to close off and delimit a place for a particular duration, and to thus grant it dimensions of holiness, teaches us the tremendous abilities we have, each of us, to create for ourselves frameworks with meaningful and even sacred content of our choice. On Sukkot we determine for ourselves, with our family members, what type of spiritual environment we would like to have, and how we would like to act within it. The Sukkah is a "surrounding light," according to Hassidut, a light that encompasses us. This is a light that challenges us to expand and augment it, and one that enables us to influence and be influenced in the right directions. 

The links between the Sukkot and Pesach festivals are both many and fascinating. On Pesach we are commanded to tell the story of the Exodus from Egypt, and on Sukkot, though we don't formally tell the story, we have the obligation to know that we are sitting in the Sukkah because of this same Exodus: "So that your generations will know that in the Sukkot [real ones, and/or Clouds of Glory] I had the Children of Israel dwell when I took them out of Egypt" (Lev. 23,43).  

This verse presents us with a strict requirement. Understanding the meaning of sitting in the Sukkah is critical (see Tur and Shulchan Arukh Orach Chaim 625); no other mitzvah requires such a clear understanding for its fulfillment. 

The Gemara (Sukkah 2b) explains that the above verse refers to a "knowledge for generations," which means, according to Rabbeinu Chananel, something very similar to the Seder night: "The future generations see the adults building a Sukkah and leaving their homes to dwell in it and ask for an explanation. Their parents are to then tell them all about the Exodus…"

But the parents need relay not only facts to their children. They must also show them how they invest in the Sukkah, the efforts they put in, the joy with which they do this, and the importance that they ascribe to it. This forms a framework of values for the future generations: "So that your generations will know…"

Sukkot is thus the holiday of filling our frameworks with genuine and meaningful content. 

Sukkot: The Four Species of Sukkot - Victory!

by Rav Yosef Naveh, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

The Holy Zohar writes (Vay'chi 221a) that between Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur, a war is waged between the People of Israel and the Nations of the World, between good and evil. How will we know who was the victor? The Zohar has a surprise answer: The contender that remains holding his battle weapons in hand is the victor. The reference, of course, is to the Four Species of the Sukkot holiday: lulav, etrog, myrtle branches, and willow branches.

Rabbe Nosson of Breslov, the prime student of Rabbe Nachman, asks two questions about this: First, why do we have to declare a winner? Isn't it obvious who's the winner and who's the loser? The one with the trophy, medallion, or whatever – he's the winner, while the loser is lying prone on the floor!

Secondly, why would he have to still be holding the weapons in his hands? He certainly doesn't need them anymore, so why can't he put them down if he wants without losing his title? 

Rabbe Nosson explains a very important principle in the service of G-d, which can be summed up in three words: Never give up!

The questions stem from a mistaken impression that success in a physical war is akin to success in a spiritual war. It's true that in a physical or material battle, the victor can wave his medal and show off his trophy, and he no longer needs his "tools of war." But a spiritual contest is very different. Here, even if your yetzer hara (evil inclination) has toppled you to the ground and you’re lying there with bruises and pains, you have not yet lost! As long as you don't give up, and continue to fight – you are the winner! 

These are Rabbe Nosson's words (Likutei Halachot, Shabbat 7):

     "… the war with Amalek is a very very long one – for Amalek is eternally that which whips Israel when it rebels. The main fight is the war with one's evil inclination, of which Amalek is the outside shell, always seeking to entrap a person totally and topple him down to the ground. Therefore, in order to defeat it, one must be strong in every aspect of what happens to him, and to make sure not to slip up in any trial he faces…"

     "Thus, in this war that everyone wages with his yetzer hara - a facet of the war with Amalek - every victory is when he strengthens himself and makes up his mind, with the strength of the tzaddik, to hold himself and face head-on any challenge that comes his way. As long as the person does not allow himself to despair, but rather strengthens himself to start over anew each time… and [doesn't quit the field but rather] continues the battle, in which the main weapon is prayer – he is considered the winner! For in truth, a person himself can't win the battle without G-d's help…"

As written in the final verse in Parashat B'Shalach (Sh'mot 17,16), "the Lord will have war with Amalek from generation to generation." The victory is G-d's issue, and not yours! Your job is just to hold on, not to give up, and never to abandon your desire to do good! The yetzer hara fights against you on one front only: that you should quit wanting to do good, that you should despair! But our task in this world is to want more and more to struggle to do good – and this is our victory. The very fact that I continue to hold my weapons of war - prayer and my will - in my hands means that I have won.

And if a person stumbles and falls and sins – what then? The answer is that if you picked yourself up and didn't give up – you have won! If you catch yourself and realize that what G-d wants from you now is to keep going despite all, this is the victory. But as opposed to a victory on the soccer field or elsewhere, your "small" spiritual win is not accompanied by cheers from the fans or an article in the paper; "G-d was not in the ra'ash [earthquake, but also means 'noise']" (Kings I 19,11), but rather just in a "still, gentle sound" (ibid. verse 12). 

Rabbe Nachman of Breslov famously taught: Sometimes the evil inclination gives you a slap in the face, and sometimes you give him one, and so on and so forth – but the main thing is to make sure that you be the one to give the last slap!

Yom Kippur: The Special Nature of the Ne'ilah Hour

by Rav David Dov Levanon, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

The solemnity of the Day of Atonement, which begins this year on Sunday night and ends Monday night, is axiomatic. It reaches its climax as the sun begins to set, which is the hour at which our Heavenly Judgement is sealed – and also the hour when our atonement is activated. As we say in the Ne'ilah prayer following Mincha: "Open the gate for us at the time of the locking of the gate, for the day is passing."

Why did our Sages institute this extra prayer, Ne'ilah, on Yom Kippur? The Jerusalem Talmud offers two proofs for the importance of adding prayers on Yom Kippur: 

R. Levi said: "[When you sin], even if you prolong your prayers I shall not hear" (Yeshayahu 1,15) – this tells us that [otherwise] one who increases his prayers will be answered. R. Ḥiyya said in the name of R. Yochanan, and R. Shimon bar Ḥalaphta said in the name of R Meir: "When she [Chana] prayed very long [and was answered]" (Shmuel I 1,12) – indicating that everyone who extends his prayers will be answered.

This does not necessarily mean that Chana prayed more in quantity, for we can assume that she prayed every year. Therefore we ask: Why was her prayer heard that particular year and not beforehand? The answer is that her prayer this year was stronger than before, because of two things that happened then: Her husband Elkanah said to her, "Why do you cry and why are you not eating and why is your heart so sad? Am I not good to you more than ten sons?" (ibid. verse 8) In addition, the High Priest at the time, Eli, actually thought she was drunk and reproved her for it. Chana then realized that she truly had no one to lean on other than our Father in Heaven, and thus her prayer was more powerful than before – and was accepted.  

Sometimes a short but powerful prayer can be that which achieves the best results. This was the case when Moshe Rabbeinu prayed effectively for his sister Miriam in only five short words: "G-d, please, heal her, please" (Bamidbar 12,13). 

And in our case, we are talking about a particularly receptive time for our prayers – the end of the Day of Atonement!

"For this, let every pious man pray to You at the time that You are found" (Tehillim 32,6). The Ibn Ezra explains that this is similar to that which is written in Yeshayahu 55,6: "Seek G-d when He is found… and you will find" – i.e., when you find Him, or when the worshiper finds his heart empty of distracting thoughts; then is when he should pray. Can there be a better time for that than during the Ne'ilah prayer? It is for this "time of finding" of the Ne'ilah hour that the pious man waits the entire year. 

I saw it written that HaRav HaNazir (Rabbi Dovid Cohen of Jerusalem, d. 1982) said about his teacher and rabbi, HaRav Kook, that he would longingly await Yom Kippur all year round. It is the wish of the pious man to wait for and anticipate the ultimate meeting with G-d that takes place on Yom Kippur and its climax, the Ne'ilah hour.

Throughout the Ne'ilah prayer, we keep the Holy Ark open – another indication of this climactic hour and encounter with G-d. We then conclude the prayer with the stirring repetition, seven times, of the words, "Hashem hu Elokim" – The Lord is G-d!" This symbolizes our connection with the different aspects of G-d and His essence, in an unparalleled time of purity, and precisely matched for acceptance of our prayers.

The importance of taking advantage of the right time for prayer is shown in this passage from the Jerusalem Talmud: "Whoever does not mention [the blessing of] Redemption adjacent to the Sh'moneh Esrei prayer is like one who is beloved to the king and who knocks on the king's door – but when the king comes out to greet him, he finds that the person has already left!"

Similarly, when one does a good deed, he must take advantage of the occasion and fulfill it as completely as possible. Even though Aharon HaCohen was Moshe's younger brother and might have been expected to be jealous of him, the Torah tells us (Sh'mot 4,14)that he was truly and sincerely "glad in his heart" to greet Moshe. On this point, the Medrash teaches that if Aharon had known that the Torah would speak so highly of him, he would have gone even further in greeting his brother with drums and cymbals. The Medrash makes the same point about others in the Torah who were praised for their actions. It's not that Aharon and the others would have sought to increase their honor, but rather that, by being made aware of what they were doing, they would have striven and succeeded in attaining the highest level of the mitzvah act. 

The next step is to preserve this feeling and certainly not to lose it. I saw a commentary by the Rupshitzer Rebbe who explained the meaning of the word ne'ilah, which is from the root meaning "lock." He said the time of the Ne'ilah prayer is when we should lock in the sensations of holiness within our hearts, just as one locks up a chest or closet so that the precious items within will not be lost or stolen.

To this end, we must start doing mitzvot immediately after Yom Kippur ends, by starting to build our Sukkah and preparing in other ways for the Sukkot holiday. In this way we pile up our feelings of holiness in the actual mitzvah items – the chafatzim of mitzvah. The Ramban explains the verse "Do not arouse the love until it is desired" (Shir HaShirim 2,7) as follows: "Desired" is from the same root as chafatzim, thus that the verse can mean: "… until you put the love into the item of mitzvah."

Haazinu: Fighting With Faith: A Message for Politicians on Both Right and Left

by Rav Moshe Tzuriel ZTz"L, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

These are the days of the year on which we repent and do teshuvah, both for our individual sins and our collective iniquities. One of the main things for which Israel as a whole must repent is our attitude towards the Land of Israel. Are we sufficiently aware that the Land is a gift from G-d to His people, and that as such it must not be maligned or neglected?

Ever since the establishment of our State in 1948, we have never ceased to face physical threats from our enemies who wish to annihilate us. Some of them wish to destroy us little by little, and others in one fell swoop, Heaven forfend. They claim that they wish to receive "their" land back, and will happily give us "peace in exchange for land." Though we know they have no plans to make real and lasting peace with us, we must not even entertain the idea of trading land – for G-d gave us His holy word in the Torah, so that we learn it and internalize it: This Land is His, and He gave it to us – and not in order that we give it away. 

Let us learn from Yiftach the Giladite, an Israelite Judge between the times of Samuel and David. The Amonites who lived in what is now Jordan demanded that we give them that area of land. Yiftach had been chosen to lead the Israelites at the time, and this was his response [paraphrased]: 

"Israel did not take your land. When we came up from Egypt, through the wilderness up to the Red Sea, we sent messengers to the king of Edom, saying, 'Let me pass through your land.' But he did not listen, and nor did the king of Moav, though Israel sent him messengers as well. And so Israel went through the desert, detouring around Edom and Moav. Israel then sent messengers to Sichon, king of the Emorites, asking, 'Please let us pass through your land up on our way to our home.' But Sichon did not allow us to do so, and instead gathered his army and fought with Israel. However, the God of Israel delivered Sichon and his people into the hand of Israel, and Israel took over the entire land of the Emorites. 

"And now, the God of Israel has driven out the Emorites from before His people Israel, and you want to possess it?! Whatever our God has given us, we shall possess. We have been living here now for 300 years; why did you not try to take since then? I have not sinned against you, while you unjustly fight against me." (Judges 11)

Despite this speech, the Amonites were not appeased. What did Yiftach do? He certainly did not wait to be attacked, but rather, "The spirit of G-d came upon Yiftach, and he passed over the Gilad, etc. (ibid.)" That is, he went to war – and not only a defensive one, but "a great battle in which he captured 20 cities." Ultimately, the Amonites surrendered.   

In short, Yiftach did not respond as our leaders respond nowadays, with statements like, "The sanctity of human life is greater than that of a geographic place," or that "saving lives overrides the mitzvah of settling the Land." He could have told those Jews living in east of the Jordan River that they must leave their houses and return "home" to the western Jordan area, in order to save Jewish lives. But he did not call for a "Disengagement." He rather said to Sichon, "Instead of us giving you land for peace, how about you giving us land for peace? Forget your demand to keep the Gilad, otherwise we will liquidate you!" And so Yiftach went to war, and was victorious, with G-d's help!

Today, if the Syrian despot were again to demand that we give him the Golan Heights or else face his military wrath, our response must be this: "We took nothing from you. It was you who so inhumanely ambushed us during the Six Day War, and we then won the war and captured territory – and we will keep it. We will continue to hold on to the Golan to make sure that you do not again try to rocket Beit She'an or the Jordan Valley. If you continue to threaten us, we will fight you!"

The difference between then and now is very simple: Yiftach HaGiladi believed whole-heartedly, in word and deed, in G-d and His teachings. Yiftach was very clear about this in his speech to the King of Ammon, saying that the Israelite victory was due to G-d's blessing. One who knows so clearly that G-d is with him, is stronger than others. He knows that he is in the right, concentrates on the mission, and goes out to fight and wins.

And in fact, with this in mind, I do not understand the secular public in our midst today. Back when we established the State, we thought that the nations of the region might welcome our presence and our technological, financial, and other contributions to the entire area. But when we saw that this was not true, and that they chose instead to attack and kill us – why should we remain here? If our goal is to establish our own Jewish culture with its historic and lofty ideals, then we have to do so via a state and government – and for this we must fight those who would fight us. But if our entire goal is to live like non-Jews, adopting their lifestyles and mores, why do we have to fight wars and lose lives? We might as well move to Australia or elsewhere and live like goyim peacefully. But to live like goyim and get killed for it, precisely in the Land of Israel from where they want to uproot us – what justification is there to live here and continue to kill and be killed? We can live like goyim elsewhere without any danger!

As such, our call for "general teshuvah" to the millions of Jews living here in the Land of Israel must be: "Learn from Yiftach!" When he was attacked by enemies who refused to be mollified, he relied on his trust in G-d and knew that the proper approach was to be confident and attack in accordance with the Divine plan. This is what we too must always have in mind. 

And this is the blessing that Moshe Rabbeinu gave Israel in his parting speech (Deut. 33,29): "Fortunate are you, O Israel! Who is like you, a nation protected by G-d, and He is your shield Who helps you and your triumphant Sword! Your enemies will come cringing to you, but you will tread upon their heights –", i.e., the high places from where they scout you out and can fire at you. 

We must learn from our past experience. The attempts to make "peace" by our politicians for whom faith in G-d is not a candle lighting their way have not led to great success. Arabs from Gaza and elsewhere continue to fire rockets and attack us every day. Just as Yiftach believed that it was G-d Who oversaw Israel's wars, and at His word battled even for territory east of the Jordan River – how much more so must we fight with faith and confidence for the very heartland of Eretz Yisrael, here in Judea and Samaria. 

Yoav, King David's nephew and Chief of Staff, said in the midst of a war: "Let us be strong and strengthened for our people and for the cities of our G-d" (Shmuel II 10,12). The Radak explained in his commentary that Yoav's concern was that the cities would be conquered and settled by enemies, in which case "they would no longer be G-d's cities, but rather the cities of false gods." 

That is to say, by virtue of the fact that we settle our cities, this gives them sanctity – but if, Heaven forfend, Jewish towns are given over to foreign rule, there is no greater Chilul Hashem (Desecration of G-d's Name) than that, as it is a "sign" of the idols' supposed success. We must repent and do teshuvah for this, and thus show our secular brethren how important it is for them to once again be courageous Jews. 

Rosh Hashana: The Milestones Along the Way to the New Year

by Rav Haggai Londin, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

When the Children of Israel received the Torah from G-d, they agreed to fulfill it even before hearing what was in it. That is, they famously said naaseh, "we will do," before saying nishma, "we will hear." This is an expression of Israel's natural belonging to the kodesh, that which is holy. The teshuvah process, too, wherein a Jew repents of his sins and embarks on the "road back," begins with the recognition of the presence of his intrinsically pure soul.

We know that on Rosh HaShanah night, we eat special foods as positive "signs" for the upcoming year. The Talmud states: "[Given] that a 'sign' is significant, a person should habituate himself to eat the following on Rosh HaShanah: pumpkin, black-eyed peas, leeks, beets, and dates [as these grow and multiply quickly, and some of them are sweet - good omens for the coming year]." (Tr. Keritut 6a)

On the holy holiday night, before dawn of the day on which the entire year's direction is to be marked, we prepare ourselves for repentance by eating these simanim, the "signs." As the renowned Sh'lah writes: "The fruit is the sign that will remind the person and awaken him to do teshuvah¸ and to pray for it… Thus, the main thing is the arousal and the prayer."

Accordingly, there is a logical order to the simanim that we eat [as per Rav Kook's siddur, Olat R'iyah II, p. 319], an order that will raise us up gradually to full teshuvah.

1. We begin with an apple, which we dip in honey and say: "May You renew upon us a good and sweet year." The Talmud elaborates (Shabbat 88b): "Why was Israel likened to an apple [in Song of Songs 2,3]? To tell you that just like an apple's fruit precedes its leaves, so too Israel preceded its 'we will hear' with 'we will do' [as explained above]."

We thus recognize that teshuvah begins with the recognition of our intrinsically pure soul, sweeter than honey. This is its nature before all the stains caused afterwards by our sins. This enables us to be certain of the "good and sweet" success of our teshuvah process. As Rav Kook writes (Igrot, Letter 378): "The foundation of all is that we must be certain of our teshuvah and of the great serenity and the joyous strength that will certainly envelope the soul of every person in whose soul the light of teshuvah shines."

2. We next eat rubiya, black-eyed peas, and ask, "May our merits be increased" – yirbu zchuyoteinu in Hebrew. The divine facet within us does not remain on the abstract soul level alone, but is also revealed in the soul's traits. The people of Israel are characterized by merits, that is, character traits imbued in our souls ever since the days of our Patriarchs. As we learn in Pirkei Avot (5,19): "Whoever has a good [generous, positive] eye, a humble spirit, and an undemanding soul – is of the students of Avraham Avinu." As the new year begins, we ask that these holy traits that are naturally imbued within us be increased, and that those seeds that are buried in the fruits of the ground (vegetables) be brought to full potential in our humanity [of the same root as 'earth'].

3. Next comes karti, leeks: She'yikartu oyveinu, "May our enemies be cut off." After we began by internalizing that our souls are imbued with a Divine facet that cannot be corrupted – we can now relate to the body and to its failings in a new light, amid trust and recognition of our worth. We must first recognize the sin, i.e., see precisely what parts of our soul are of sin and what are actually meritorious. The Mishna (B'rachot 1,2) says that the earliest time to recite the morning Shma prayer is when one can distinguish between blue and karti, a form of green not that different from blue. We must attain the stage where we can make that delicate distinction between the negative aspects of the soul, the inner 'enemies' that must be cut off, and the valuable, positive aspects of the soul that should be nourished. Making this identification brings naturally to the sin's cutting off from the soul – an important process that does, however, cause pain and (temporarily) diminishing strengths. Rav Kook writes (Orot HaTeshuvah 8,1): "The pain that is felt during teshuvah… is the result of the detaching of the bad parts of the soul…and via teshuvah they are cut off and uprooted, and every such uprooting causes pain, just as during a medical amputation."

4. Number four on the menu is silka, beets: She'yistalku oyveinu, "May our enemies leave us." The stage after we recognize the sin and it begins to be cut off is its final riddance. The sin must leave us absolutely, as it is the inner "enemy" of our soul: "What is teshuvah?" asks the Rambam. "It is when the sinner abandons his sin and removes it from his thoughts and makes up his mind not to do it again… and the Master and Knower of Unknowns [G-d] would be able to testify that he would never return to this sin again" (Laws of Teshuvah 2,2)." Not only that, but our absolute leave-taking of the sin begins the process of rehabilitating the soul: Salik in Aramaic means to ascend; we are now climbing up from that which is ugly and bad, and beginning a process of upward rising – just like the leaves of the beets rise straight upward.

5. Next are dates, tamar: Sheyitamu son'einu, May our enemies come to an end. At this point, after the recognition, cutting off, and absolute dismissal of the sin from the soul, the way is clear for complete teshuvah. The soul-hating sins are over, and the person's soul is informed that it is clean: "One who sees dates in his dream, his sins have tamu, ended, as is written, 'tam avonekh Bat Tzion, your sin is over, o daughter of Zion.'" (B'rachot 57a)

Tom also means "completeness" and "innocence." The tom of sin is also the gateway to the innocence and perfection of the soul. In Rav Kook's words: "Corresponding to every part of ugly sin that departs from a man's soul following his inner consent to the light of teshuvah, are worlds complete in their supreme clarity within his soul. Every time a sin is passed away and out, it is like the removal of something on one's eye bothering him from seeing, revealing a complete horizon of vision, the light of expanses of heaven and earth and everything in them." (Orot HaTeshuvah 5,2)

6. Next is kara, pumpkin or gourd, sheyikara gzar dineinu and yikar'u l'fanekha z'chuyoteinu: May our decrees be torn up and may our merits be read before You. Complete teshuvah and soulful innocence have the power to change our reality. Within them is a call to new creation that rips apart and changes the decree. As the Rambam writes: "One of the paths of repentance is for the [penitent] to always cry out before G-d... and to change his name, as if to say, 'I am not the same person who committed those sins" (Laws of Teshuvah 2, 4). Changing one's personality requires a tremendous effort; the Talmud tells us that one is not shown pumpkins in his dream unless he is a "G-d-fearer with all his might." Furthermore, pumpkins (when emptied and dried out) actually serve as a utensil for holding liquids (see Bartenura to Shabbat 17,6) – and we are asked to "draw out" [from the same root as d'laat, pumpkin) from within ourselves inner forces so that we can renew ourselves, tear up the evil decrees, and to grant a new essence to our lives.

7. Nearing the end, we eat pomegranate, rimon, "so that our merits will increase like [the seeds of] a pomegranate." Above we asked that our merits that we received automatically and naturally from our Patriarchs be increased, and now we ask, following a long process of teshuvah, for an abundance of the merits and good qualities on which we work hard to build up. As children of our forefathers, we cannot rely only on their merits; we must seek and work to reveal the patriarchal merits that are within us, by doing acts of Torah and mitzvot of our own. The Talmud states: "One who sees pomegranates in his dream… – if he is a Torah scholar, he should anticipate Torah, as is written… And if he is an ignoramus, he should anticipate mitzvot, as is written… [indicating that] even those who are empty of Torah are replete with good deeds, like [the seeds of] a pomegranate." (B'rachot 57a)

8. And finally, the last siman that we eat (although one may add some of his own) is the head of a fish, as we say: "Like fish, may we be fruitful and multiply and may the evil eye not have influence over us." We have reached the end of the teshuvah process:  Our mortal powers, which have been refined by teshuvah, can now grow and multiply without fear or apprehension that the "evil eye" will detract from them. In Rav Kook's words: "[… the righteous] who are not limited by external [factors] and whom the evil eye does not control because they stand above from the external, as whales swimming in the great sea." The intensification of our pure forces brings us to the "head," to the peak of thought, to the summit of aspirations – and to the primary point of the year coming upon us for blessing.

May this be G-d's will, Amen!

Rosh Hashana: Fear Leading to Bursting Joy

by Rav Yechezkel Frenkel, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

The Price of Fear

The process of teshuvah (repentance, return) obtains many assets for our soul: purity, cleanliness, and a sense of rebirth. The Halakhic believer has the ability to stand before the mirror after his viduy (confession) and regret, and say with sincerity and integrity that he has sinned – and this ability highlights the entire landscape of his life. Simply put, teshuvah has an element of "cure" for the person's spiritual status. 

Truly, as Rav Kook explained at length, the Torah desires to see people who are strong, courageous, proactive, and of initiative – people who go out to "rectify the world in the Kingdom of G-d." Of course, there are times that such people find that they also make "mistakes" – and these are to be corrected by teshuvah. As with any medicine, however, teshuvah not only cures, but also causes a form of weakness – in this case, some darkening of the stronghold of the will and soul, noticeably weighing down on the flow of life.

But this is actually something good. One cannot reach complete rectification without a full stop, even if temporary, of the bursting forth of the powers of the soul. This occurs during the High Holy Days. Then, once these day have passed, when we are pure and clean, and our soul's powers of action are cleansed and ready to return with greater and purer force – this is the time for the joy of the Sukkot festival. 

This is the time of rebuilding of the forces of life. The bursting joy can restore our active and constructive character in purity, and will then be able to stream forth in our complex reality – until the next time teshuvah is needed, followed again by the joy of Sukkot. And thus we have the Torah's complete spiritual-therapeutic framework, which rectifies and detracts from our strength, but also rebuilds and gives renewed forces of vitality and happiness. 

As a rule, Sukkot is our "time of happiness" - multi-faceted joy, touching on the Holy Temple, the Holy Land, various practical mitzvot, and more. In particular, one special dimension of joy on Sukkot has to do with "spreading out" and expansion, both physically and spiritually. On the days of awe and fear before Sukkot we are as if closed up in our homes and synagogues, while on Sukkot we are free to spread forth. 

An allusion to this positive aspect of Ufaratzta, "you shall spread out," is found in the list of punishments and rebukes in Parashat B'chukotai. There it says that if we sin, part of the punishment will be that we will be "gathered into our cities" – as opposed to the meadows and mountains. 

A unique description of the tension between the city and the outdoor expanses is expressed in a poem by none other than the Nazir, Rabbi David Cohen, a top disciple of HaRav Kook. During one of his trips to the Judean Desert, in which he sought to hear G-d's word in a place devoid of the distractions of the vanities of the world, he wrote: 

"… Finally, finally, the lion in me wishes to cut the binding ropes placed upon it, the ropes of a house - and it bursts forth to run away, to wander and be alone while seeking and awaiting G-d's salvation. Alone and solitary among the hills and mountains, the valleys and brooks – here in the plains of the desert, the mountains, so close to G-d… How lowly is the scorn in the city houses and their businesses, trades of ants. My soul thirsts for the expanse… freedom that is sacred unto G-d…" [freely translated]

 When we remember that the writer is a mature, tremendous Torah scholar who would spend nearly every minute from the end of the Sabbath until the beginning of the next one between his chair and study table in the Beit Medrash of Rav Kook, these words take on special weight. Not everyone is on the same level of seeking out G-d and His expanses as the Rabbi-Nazir of holy blessed memory. Yet it appears that the Torah is aware of the sense of being closed up that we often experience – and a bit of the remedy for such is found in the exit from our protected homes to the Sukkah outdoors... 

Happiness: Serious Business 

The serious nature of these Holy Days of Awe is certainly evident from many of the words in our prayers: "Place Your fear, and awe, upon the peoples… and may they fear You… Power in Your hand, might in Your right hand, and Your name inspires fear…"

But we sometimes forget that together with these expressions are not a few phrases of uplifting: "Grant joy to Your land, and happiness to Your city… And thus the righteous will see and rejoice, and the upright will exult, and the pious will celebrate in delight."

The Ramchal (18th-century author of the classic Mesilat Yesharim, Path of the Just) sees in this combination an opportunity for responsibility and serious work: 

"You have to know that even though Israel is chosen and sanctified, it is not in its highest state until the entire world, with all its parts, is rectified… And when [this happens], it will have to be that the nation of Israel is in the Land of Israel, because they are the Chosen Nation, and from the Chosen Land, and in Israel will reign a King of the dynasty of David who was the Chosen King, through whom all of Israel connects with holiness – and if even one of these conditions is lacking, the holiness cannot be in full force… There are many levels in Israel – righteous, upright, pious [as in the prayer] – but they must all be in happiness…" [From his work Maamar HaChokhmah]

Joy thus takes on a much broader dimension than simply one's piousness in his individual service of G-d. It rather goes as far as a sense of national responsibility – it is incumbent upon us to be with happiness, even when it is not so easy in light of the events. We must understand that just as "in water, faces answers to face" (Mishlei 27,19), so too, one's spiritual world matches his demeanor: The more we increase our Torah study and observance of mitzvot with faith and sacred insights into G-d's ways of leadership, so will Israel's happiness increase, and so will the shadows and sadness depart from us, and "G-d will remain exalted alone on that day on the Holy Mountain in Jerusalem." 

Thus the joy in our High Holiday prayers combines with the joy of Sukkot and its international dimension, which is reflected both in the number of Sukkot sacrifices in the Temple (70, standing for the Seventy Nations), and also in the Sukkot Haftarah reading: 

 "And it will come to pass that everyone left of the nations who came up against Jerusalem will go up from year to year to prostrate himself to the King, the Lord of Hosts, and to celebrate the festival of Tabernacles…" (Zecharia 14)

Emuna: Teshuvah - Comparing the French and Bolshevik Revolutions

by Rav Yeshayahu Shteinberger, yeshiva.co, translated by Hillel Fendel. 

Am Yisrael (the Nation of Israel) is busy these pre-High Holy Days with preparing for and doing teshuvah – return from our sinful habits to the straight Torah path. The problem is, though, that the changes we make don't generally last for very long…

This is true even though when we repeatedly recite the viduy (list of sins that we have committed and our intention to change) before and during Yom Kippur, we often have the best of intentions and truly wish to improve our ways. Change is hard, although it does sometimes happen – but not always for the best. Sometimes when a person is "born again," his personality truly undergoes a Kafkaesque transformation from normative to strange and extreme. This result is quite distant from the beloved and exalted personage of the true baal teshuvah, penitent, described in Chapter 7 of Maimonides' Laws of Repentance. 

What, then, can be done? Is there any practical formula we can use to bring about the best results from all our viduy recitations and requests for forgiveness? The Rambam and others provide some tips, but we are searching for something even more comprehensive.

Perhaps the answer lies in the fact that doing teshuvah, repentance, is actually a dramatic revolution – and therefore it should be equated to great national revolutions in history. Let us compare those that were successful to those that were less so, and see if nationwide upheavals can teach us something about individual revolutions. 

The French Revolution and the Springtime of Nations in 1848

Rabbi Tzvi Hirsch Chajes (1805-1855), a great Talmudic scholar from Galicia known as the Maharatz Chayes, was also educated in general matters and received the degree of Doctor of Philosophy. He raised an interesting question, not typical of questions generally entertained by rabbis: Why is it that the French Revolution of the end of the 18th century exacted so many hundreds of thousands of casualties, while the Springtime of Nations series of rebellions in 1848 was much calmer (though they also cost tens of thousands of European deaths in many nations)?  

The Maharatz explained that the backgrounds and conditions of the two revolutions were very different. In France, the revolutionaries sought to uproot religion, religious authority, and the traditional social structure – and the resulting shockwaves led to unbearable results. But the uprisings of 1848 had much more modest goals, seeking only relatively minor changes in the social structure. 

Rabbi Chayes was able to differentiate between a revolution that sought to rock the very pillars of deeply entrenched traditional mores, and a "velvet" revolution that corresponded to the spirit of the people and the times, and did not seek to create a new world on the ruins of an old one. 

The French Revolution sought a radical change: "Equality, liberation and fraternity," as a progressive substitute for the traditional authoritarian institutions that had sunk into debauchery and corruption. It justly wished to abolish the excessive privileges of the king, the aristocracy and the clergy that came at the expense of the commoners. But this was all too much for the lower class, which was stunned by the execution of the king and his family and the attempt to totally destroy the church. The people were not against the monarchy or religion, but wanted only to mitigate the corruption in these bodies. They wanted their revolution a bit more "modest." 

The Bolshevik Revolution of 1917, decades after the Maharatz's death, had similar characteristics. Costing millions of casualties and spreading destruction and ruination, it took down an old world while replacing it with something not only totally new, but also among the most tyrannical regimes in history. Interestingly enough, the Communist world essentially crumbled to nothing, quietly and with little violence, when the Berlin Wall was demolished eight decades later.

More than 100 million people around the world were killed in the Communist revolutions, which sought to found a new and better world – a Marxist utopia. This ideal, however, stood in absolute contrast to everything that the relevant societies knew and loved, such as in Russia, China, and elsewhere – and masses died. But when "tradition" was restored to power, it matched the people's desires, and it happened relatively peacefully. 

The Connection to Teshuvah

As stated, repentance is also a form of a revolution. Sometimes it is very radical, in which case its results are liable to be quite harmful, leading to instability and worse. Only when the baal teshuvah continues to live basically as he did before, as a thinking and logical person who keeps up with his family and his lifestyle, and who maintains a sense of humor and exudes cheerfulness – only then can his teshuvah be a source of blessing to himself and those around him. Repentance must be suited to the traits and measurements of each person. It will succeed only if it is rational and if the penitent remains "normal" and moderate. Turns that are too sharp and fast are always dangerous.  

Rav Shach of blessed memory used to advise newly observant Jews to remain in their jobs and careers that supported them when they were secular, and not to throw everything away from their former lives in order to learn in Yeshiva for a stipend "salary." Uri Zohar (1935-2022), a most famous entertainer-turned-baal teshuvah and rabbi in Israel, related that Rav Shach felt that he should continue to perform and make movies – modest ones, of course. He said that Rav Uri would thus be able to have more influence on those whose lifestyles he no longer appreciated. 

The saintly Rav Kook, too, appeared to agree with this approach. He wrote in his classic Orot HaTeshuvah (Lights of Repentance; 14,2) as follows [paraphrased]: "Sometimes, when people strive to adhere greatly to supreme spirituality, separating their body from their soul – bad traits can take over. And then when the forces of life return to their normalcy, the soul finds the body broken in its bad traits, and a great and very dangerous war begins." 

Even Rav Kook, who was considered a radical in many ways and did not hesitate to swim against the prevailing current, preached the importance of normalcy and practical-mindedness. He said that a baal teshuvah should emphasize inter-personal relations, as well as laws of financial issues, and should "do teshuvah gradually." 

Rav Kook, the giant of the Redemptive Vision, said that not only national repentance, but also individual teshuvah, is a Messianic process. "Israel will be redeemed only via teshuvah," the Sages teach, and this repentance is guaranteed. As such, both the nation and the individual will be redeemed. And since even after the Redemption, the world will continue to run as usual, this process will be a gradual, moderate one; the earth will not quake when we repent and are redeemed. One may act with extremism only under extreme circumstances, and even then - on condition that the situation will ultimately balance itself out according to the values that our Patriarch Abraham passed down to us. This is the "way of G-d," and it is that which will bring goodness and blessing to both individual and community.

Nitzavim and Vayelekh: G-d Gives Tests – and Provides the Answers

by Rav Moshe Leib HaCohen Halbershtat, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

We will read two Torah portions this week, Nitzavim and Vayelekh (Deut. 29,9-31,30). Nitzavim continues to recount the words of Moshe Rabbeinu to Israel as they are about to enter the Land of Israel, where he specifies what will happen to the nation if they sin. But this is puzzling, given that in last week's Torah portion of Ki Tavo, Moshe told them the same thing! Why the repetition?

The Ramban (Nachmanides, 1194-1270) tells us that in Ki Tavo, Moshe was delivering words of rebuke, as well as some optimistic promises, as to what could be expected to happen based on their behavior. But in Nitzavim, Moshe was speaking actual prophecy. Israel was hearing exactly what was going to happen when they disobeyed G-d and how the punishment would be carried out, and then how they would actually repent and return and merit once again to receive all the promised blessings. 

But the question still remains: What need is there for words of prophecy, when it was previously made clear what would happen in any given situation? 

We know that Avraham Avinu was tested by G-d ten different times, and he passed each one successfully. The Mishna in Pirkei Avot (5,3) teaches that this tells us of G-d's great love for Avraham. Though we are amazed and inspired by Avraham's strong faith that emboldened him to withstand a series of difficult tests, we must remember that the very fact that he was tested by G-d shows that he had the requisite strengths to pass them! Why? Because G-d does not send a test to one who is not strong enough to pass it!

How do we know this? From the famous trio Hananya, Mishael, and Azaryah, who were thrown into a fiery furnace by Babylonian King Nevuchadnetzar for refusing to bow to his image (see Daniel 3). This didn't help him, however, because G-d saved them for their faith and they were not consumed by the fires. The Talmud adds an interesting comment: "If they had not been thrown into a furnace, but were rather whipped, they would have bowed down to the figure." The Tosafot commentary explains that it's not that they would have violated a Torah commandment, because this was not really a question of idol-worship, but rather of showing honor to the king. They were willing to give up their lives in order not to have to equate his honor with G-d's honor – but the pain of whipping would have been even harder to withstand, given that what they were being ordered to do was actually permitted.

However, the Chidushei HaRim asks: What is the Gemara trying to teach us here? Why do we have to know that whipping would have been more torturous to them than death? 

He answers as follows: The Gemara is telling us that G-d chose not to bring upon them the test of whipping because they wouldn't have been able to withstand it! For G-d does not bring a test upon a person unless he can pass it. We must therefore always know that if we are faced with a difficult test, we most definitely have the ability to withstand it!

Therefore, when we read that Avraham was faced with ten Heaven-sent tests, it is clear that he had the necessary abilities to withstand them – for otherwise G-d would not have brought them upon him. 

The story is told of a pious Hassid named Berish, who was a follower of a certain Rebbe whom he had never met. One day he decided to make a trip to the big city to meet his Rebbe, hear his Torah, share with him his worries, and ask for his blessings. He slowly saved up the required amount of money for the trip, and finally, the big day came. He hired a wagon driver, and they made their way to the big city. Astounded by the hustle and bustle and the tall buildings, Berish found the Rebbe's court and made his way inside. Making sure he had his list of blessings and requests, he took his place in line to wait for his long-awaited appointment – and all of a sudden he sees his home-town neighbor Kalonymus running wildly and crying out, "Berish, Berish! I'm so sorry!" Berish is quite puzzled, and Kalonymus continues, "Terrible news! Your father has passed away!" Whereupon Berish faints and falls. With everyone in a tizzy, the other Hassidim try to revive him – but to no avail. Every time they manage to wake him up, he remembers the terrible news he heard about his father, and falls again into a faint. After this happens a few times, the Rebbe himself is alerted to the dire situation. His assistant asks the Rebbe, "What should we do? Berish is not waking up!" The Rebbe says, "Tell him it's not true. Tell him his father is alive." The Rebbe's pronouncement does the trick, and Berish begins to come back to himself – and in fact, it is later learned that Kalonymus had been mistaken.

Later, the Rebbe's assistant asked him, "How did you know? After all, the report of the man's death seemed to be quite reliable." The Rebbe answered, "When I heard that Berish was not able to deal with it, I realized that it couldn't be true – for G-d does not bring a test upon someone who cannot meet and withstand it." 

The Medrash Tanchuma tells us that the reason Nitzavim follows immediately after the punishments and curses of Ki Tavo is because when Israel heard all these curses, plus the others at the end of Vayikra, they paled and panicked and asked, "How can we possibly withstand this?!" Moshe therefore gathered them together in Parashat Nitzavim and successfully appeased them. 

To elaborate: The children of Israel said to Moshe, "How can G-d bring upon us such tests that we clearly don't have the ability to withstand?" Whereupon Moshe answered them prophetically, saying, "Here's a preview of everything that will happen to you, including your ability to withstand whatever G-d brings upon you – all the way up to the happy ending of your Redemption." He thus gave them the strength to withstand the difficult tests. Moshe Rabbeinu understood that what they needed to hear now was not warnings and promises – but actual prophecy that would show that they do, in fact, have the ability to succeed, and that G-d will give them only tests that they can pass, leading to the greatness and joy of the End of Days, speedily in our days. 

(based partially on a work by Rav Shalomo Schwadron)