How do we prepare for the Days of Awe? How can we truly live the concept of 'Ani L'Dodi V'Dodi Li' (I am my Beloved's, and my Beloved is mine)? Are the curses that we just heard in last week’s parasha meant to instill fear in us? And if so, why does Moshe Rabbenu later offer reassurance? What benefits can be had from the curses? What is the key to recovery, even after failure? Should Rosh Hashanah be a day of rejoicing, or should we be trembling from fear? Why do we dress in festive clothing and enjoy special holiday meals if it is such a fateful day? What is the power of 'Ein Od Milvado' (there is none besides Him)? How does it work, and how can it save people from danger?
How To Prepare for the Days of Judgment
In last week's article, we shared insights from Rabbi Aryeh Zev Gurevitch (Ma’orei She'arim, Sha'ar HaTaharah), Rosh Yeshiva of Gateshead. He explained how the essence of Elul is captured in the well-known acronym for the month: "אני לדודי ודודי לי" ("I am my Beloved's, and my Beloved is mine"). Throughout the month of Elul, we cultivate a deep connection with Hashem, building faith and recognizing Divine Providence in our lives. The more one internalizes this bond, that much more he is deserving of a favorable judgment during the Days of Awe.
Consolation, Fear, and Curses
This week's parasha (Devarim 29:9) begins with the words: "You are standing today, all of you, before Hashem your G-d." The Midrash (Tanchuma Nitzavim, 1; quoted in Rashi) explains why this passage appears immediately after the curses: “After hearing the terrible curses, the people were stricken with fear. Their faces turning pale and they exclaimed, ‘Who can endure this?’ Therefore, Moshe sought to comfort them, saying, ‘You are standing today’— ‘Although you have angered the Almighty tremendously, He has not destroyed you, and here you are, standing before Him.’” And Rashi adds another few cryptic words: “And it is because of the curses that you stand before Him today.”
And why is the word “hayom” – today repeated so many times? Rashi explains that just as the day cycles between light and darkness, so too, the Jewish people – they cycle between periods of light and periods of darkness. And, just as G-d enlightened them in the past, so too, He will continue enlightening them in the future.
Jewish history follows a cyclical pattern, alternating between times of light and periods of darkness. While we endure dark times, such as those described in Parashas Ki Savo, with its 98 harsh curses, these difficult times are not permanent. They will eventually give way to periods of light and redemption. Rashi offers a profound insight into this cycle, stating that it is precisely these curses and moments of suffering that sustain and strengthen the Jewish people, preparing them to stand before G-d. But how can suffering serve as preparation?
A Strange Consolation
The Kli Yakar (Devarim 29:9) questions the nature of this comfort. How can it be reassuring to know that we will eventually prevail, despite the terrible hardships we may face? In his commentary, the Kli Yakar delves deeper into this issue, raising several thought-provoking questions about how such a difficult reality can offer any sense of solace.
- Over the 40 years of wandering in the desert under Moshe Rabbenu’s leadership, the Jewish people deserved destruction multiple times, and through recurring miracles – survived. But what assurance is there that this pattern will continue? Might their merits not eventually run out?
- If the purpose of the curses is to ensure the Jewish nation don’t stray from their spiritual mission, why does Moshe console them by saying, "Do not be afraid, for in the end, you will prevail?" Does this not diminish the intended impact of the cruses?
- The survival of the Jewish people, that miraculous historic phenomenon, was already promised to them earlier by G-d (Vayikra 26:44): "I will not reject them nor abhor them to destroy them utterly." What new message is Moshe conveying here?
And there are several additional questions that arise from these psukim:
- If the people continue sinning, but prevail, does this imply that G-d shows favoritism? Can we suggest that G-d is lenient in judgment? The Gemara (Bava Kamma 50a) states, "Anyone who says that G-d is lenient, let his life be leniently taken”. How can Moshe console them with the assurance that G-d will pardon them?
- While one might see consolation in the temporary nature of darkness, the suffering is, nevertheless, very real. How does this alleviate the fear of it? History shows many periods of terrible darkness where Jewish communities were destroyed. Does ultimate survival lessen the profound pain? Was there any true comfort for the Jewish people in Ashkenaz and France, knowing that despite the horrific Crusades, the Jews as a nation would survive? Can the hundreds of thousands who perished, were uprooted, and lost their vitality in the expulsion from Spain take any solace in the knowledge that they would eventually be revived? Does the fact that the Cossacks "only" annihilated a third of the Jewish people through unimaginable brutality, ease the agony and terror of the massacres of 1648-1649? And what of the Holocaust, that unfathomable catastrophe? How can we claim that knowing we are destined to endure such profound suffering does not leave us trembling? Were we not meant to fear the Holocaust? And what comfort can we find in the fact that the Jewish people endured, that once again the sun rose upon us—when the destruction was so vast, and the pain so overwhelming?
Joyous Rosh Hashanah
To resolve this paradox, Rabbi Leib Gurewitz draws on a different concept. The Tur (OC 581) rules: "We wash and cut our hair (on Erev Rosh Hashana) as we find in the Midrash: ‘Rabbi Simon says: It is written, 'For what great nation...'. Rabbi Chanina and Rabbi Yehoshua said, 'What nation is like this nation that knows the nature of its G-d—His ways and His judgments? The way of the world is that a person who has a judgment pending wears black clothes, wraps himself in black, grows his beard, and does not cut his nails, because he does not know how his judgment will turn out. But Yisrael is not like this. They wear white clothes, wrap themselves in white, shave their beards, cut their nails, eat, drink, and rejoice on Rosh Hashanah, because they know that Hashem will perform a miracle for them. Therefore, the custom is to cut hair and wash clothes on Erev Rosh Hashanah and to eat festive meals on Rosh Hashanah."
On the one hand, we are filled with fear and trepidation, as the poet Rabbi Amnon eloquently expresses in his renowned Unesaneh Tokef: "We shall ascribe holiness to this day, for it is awesome and terrifying... Angels are in a state of alarm, seized with fear and trembling, and they say: Behold, it is the Day of Judgment... Who shall live and who shall die, who in his time and who not in his time, who by water and who by fire..."
Yet, on the other hand, we are reassured of the miracle Hashem will perform for us, and follow the halacha to prepare ourselves for a happy occasion: shower, take haircuts, eat, drink, and rejoice. How can we not fear Hashem’s judgment on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, when our future is being determined?
This very concept requires explanation: How do we combine joyous confidence in Hashem’s mercy with the reality of judgment? And why are both necessary?
Integrating the Two Behaviors
At first glance, it may seem like a contradiction, but in reality, there is no conflict. On one hand, the Jewish people celebrate and rejoice on Rosh Hashanah, confident that Hashem will perform a miracle for them. Yet, they also remain fully aware that a miracle is necessary for their salvation. This trust in Hashem’s intervention, however, does not diminish the seriousness or the fear of judgment.
In fact, the Maharshal (in his commentary on the Tur 581) and the Bach (OC 581) raise the question: if we are confident in Hashem’s mercy on Rosh Hashanah, why do we wear white instead of the regal embroidered burgundy typically worn on festive occasions? They answer that one who is overly celebratory during the Days of Judgment isn’t displaying true trust in Hashem but rather showing a disregard for the gravity of the situation, unaware that his fate is being decided. By wearing white, we are reminded of the burial shrouds we will one day wear, a somber reflection on our mortality. At the same time, white symbolizes the potential for forgiveness and purity, as the pasuk states (Yeshayahu 1:18), “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall become white as snow.”
Despite our trust in Hashem’s mercy, outward display of the exuberant joy of a holiday is inappropriate. Naturally, we have no chance of meriting a positive outcome, and we do not rely on miracles. Yet, at the same time, we know that we are standing on the threshold of a miracle, and therefore we wear beautiful white garments, which, along with their beauty and symbol of hope, also remind us of death and of our dependance on a miracle.
Moshe Rabbenu’s Comfort
A similar rationale can be applied to the question regarding Moshe Rabbeinu’s words of comfort to the Jewish people after they heard the curses. When they realized what their future held, they understood that, according to natural law, their survival was impossible. How could they ensure that future generations would never provoke Hashem's anger? After all, the Evil Inclination sometimes prevails, and even with the best intentions, we are only human, and there would inevitably come a time when the Yetzer Hara would overcome them. Considering the severity of Divine judgment, what hope did they have? The people feared they were destined for destruction, and their faces turned pale.
Moshe Rabbenu, however, reassured them: Although it’s true that, by the natural order, their survival seems hopeless, Hashem would perform a miracle on their behalf. They were no strangers to miracles—many had been performed for them during their time in the wilderness.
Yet, this response raises a question: aren’t we taught not to rely on miracles? How could Moshe offer comfort by encouraging hope in a miracle? Clearly, there must be a deeper factor at play. This same principle underlies both our trust in being judged favorably on Rosh Hashanah and Moshe Rabbenu’s reassurance of the Jewish people’s eternal survival.
Connection to Hashem, and Miracles
The author of Tzidah LaDerech, a disciple of Rabbenu Yehudah son of the Rosh, wrote in his work Kitzur Chovos HaLevavos (Shaar HaAhavah) that one who constantly connects with Hashem will suffer no harm. Despite having sinned and being undeserving of a positive judgment – he will survive. This concept is learned from the pasuk (Devarim 4:4), "But you who cling to Hashem, your G-d, are all alive today." Any pain, harm, or suffering is a result of disconnecting from Hashem.
Yes, bad things do happen. Terrible calamities are part of history. But suffering and pain are in our hands, and only born of our own disconnect from G-d.
Because what is life that we beg for on Rosh Hashana? What was the death that our forefathers feared in the desert? Aren’t all men destined to die eventually?
Yes, all men die in the end. But the life that we are granted on Rosh Hashana, and which was promised by Moshe Rabbenu is eternal life – spiritual prevailing.
The Power of "Ein Od Milvado"
And the spiritual connection also has profound physical power. Rabbi Chaim of Volozhin in Nefesh HaChaim (3:12) writes: "In truth, this is a great principle and a wondrous segulah to nullify and remove any harsh decrees or adverse wills that might affect a person. When one resolves in his heart, declaring: ‘Indeed, Hashem is the true G-d, and there is none besides Him, neither in this world nor in any of the worlds, for everything is filled only with His simple Oneness, blessed be His Name,’ and truly nullifies all other forces and desires, ignoring any power or will in existence, instead dedicating their thought entirely to the Master alone, blessed be He—then Hashem will provide for him. And, by this merit, all forces and wills will be nullified, unable to harm or affect him in any way."
Rabbi Leib Gurvitz shared an extraordinary story involving Rabbi Chaim’s grandson, the Rabbi of Brisk, zt"l. This story was passed down by the rabbi’s children:
In 1939, after the Nazis conquered Warsaw, the family decided that their best option was to flee to Vilna. However, the journey was fraught with danger, as the Nazis ambushed fleeing Jews, killing them mercilessly. The rabbi of Brisk told his children that since they had to escape to Vilna, their only hope of remaining alive was to remain mentally and spiritually attached to Hashem throughout the journey, without allowing their thoughts to stray for even one single moment, as prescribed by his grandfather, Rabbi Chaim of Volozhin. The rabbi was confident that by doing so, they would reach Vilna safely. And indeed, throughout their perilous journey, the Rabbi of Brisk and his children kept their thoughts unwaveringly fixed on Hashem. By this merit, they arrived in Vilna safely, and eventually reached Eretz Yisrael, thus escaping the deadly decrees of the era.
With this in mind, we can better understand Moshe Rabbenu’s comfort: "You are standing"—in a state of being "before Hashem, your G-d." As long as you cling to Hashem, there is hope, as it is written: "But you who cling to Hashem, your G-d, are all alive today." When there is attachment to Hashem, the natural course of events, as dictated by the curses, no longer applies. Rather, a new process is set in motion, one of trust in Hashem's mercy.
Practical Advice for Rosh Hashana
This is the key for surviving the judgement on Rosh Hashanah: to be thoroughly and fully connected to Hashem in every way. As the Torah instructs us (Bamidbar 29:1): “A day of teruah it should be for you"— the day should be dedicated solely for the “truah” – the shofar blast, which is the most profound physical expression of accepting G-d’s Kingship -- hearing the King’s trumpets. This is also the essence of Malchuyos -- recognition of Hashem as the ultimate, whole-encompassing King.
Cementing this full recognition is the merit through which we will see the miracle of being saved from the Attribute of Justice on the Day of Judgment. One who clings to Hashem operates under a different system, one that defies the natural order of justice. Then, despite having sinned, despite having made mistakes, our spiritual and physical lives will be saved.
Returning to our original point: Elul teaches us and trains us to cling to Hashem through the feeling of "I am my Beloved’s, and my Beloved is mine." In this way, even after the walls of protection have been breached—even after sin and harsh decrees have been issued—severe rebuke will not befall us. When we cling to Hashem and accept His kingship, we are saved from all decrees and judgments. May we all merit a good and sweet new year.