This article is being written with bochurim in mind, but that doesn’t mean adults and girls can’t benefit from it as well. In fact, they likely will.
Before I get to my point, let me share two short stories.
I remember it like it was yesterday, despite it having occurred over a decade ago. It was two days before Pesach, and I had to run to the grocery store to pick up some last-minute items.
As I walked into the grocery, I bumped into the owner, whom I knew. What can I say? The guy looked like a nebach. His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep, and he looked utterly exhausted. Yet, he was energetically talking on the phone while checking his clipboard to see what inventory still needed to be reordered before Pesach.
I told him, “Yankel*! You look terrible! You look absolutely exhausted.”
“Yes,” he replied, “I am a bit tired, but I’m in a great mood! Do you want to know why? Because in the last three weeks, I’ve earned more money than I generally make in three months! Im yirtzeh Hashem, this summer, I plan to take my family on a beautiful vacation. Every time I feel a bit tired, I think about the family time we’ll enjoy. That gives me the push to keep on working while staying b’simcha—not despite the hard work, but because of the hard work. The hard work is the ticket to my vacation.”
Another story.
A certain Yid – let’s call him Sruli – lives in a nice, three-bedroom apartment in Ganei Geulah, a popular apartment development in the heart of Yerushalayim, close to almost everything. Ganei Geulah is near Belz, Ger, Boyan, etc.
Right before Rosh Hashanah every year, he, his wife and his kids move out of their apartment and stay with his shver. Why? Because by doing so, he can rent out his apartment for the Yomim Noraim to Chassidim who want to be with their rebbe. They repeat the move for Yom Kippur and Sukkos, renting it to wealthy Americans or Europeans who want to be in Eretz Yisroel for Sukkos and are willing to pay the exorbitant price they ask.
I asked him, “But isn’t it hard? Isn’t it difficult to move into your in-laws’ home with a few children and have to sleep in the living room?”
“Yes,” he replied, “it is a challenge, but it’s well worth it. I earn so much during those 22 days that it covers many of my expenses. The temporary inconvenience is a small price to pay for the windfall we gain.”
Is Elul Reminiscent of Having One’s Teeth Pulled?
I thought about these stories when reflecting on Chodesh Elul. I can’t say that I speak for all yeshiva bochurim, but from my unscientific polling—just shmoozing with bochurim—many of them approach Elul much like they would approach going to the oral surgeon to get their wisdom teeth pulled.
They seem to be filled with a sense of dread and foreboding, not because of eimas hadin, but because they feel that they are going to jail for the next forty days. They must learn every second, and the intensity of the days makes many of them nervous. Although many won’t voice these feelings, many wish they could just be eating pizza on Motzoei Yom Kippur. They wish they could just go to sleep and wake up after Yom Kippur, ready to build the sukkah or go to the daled minim shuk to find a bargain.
Why they have this feeling is a separate discussion, not for these pages.
The truth, however, is that their feelings of apprehension and dread are misguided. Yes, if one actually has true eimas hadin, that’s another thing entirely, but this dread and nervousness that many feel aren’t rooted in eimas hadin. Rather, these feelings stem from not wanting to be uncomfortable, from not wanting to feel “pressure.”
A Change of Perspective
Perhaps, a change in perspective is in order. Maybe we should look at these forty days as days of phenomenal opportunity rather than days of dread. Perhaps, we should take a page out of our grocery owner’s playbook. Yes, he worked hard and was exhausted, but he was b’simcha because he remained focused on the opportunity and reward that his hard work would bring.
Perhaps, we should think of these days from the perspective of the guy who lives in Ganei Geulah. Yes, it’s challenging to squish an entire family into a small space, but look at the benefit! Look at the opportunity that a short period of discomfort brings.
That alone might be enough to change our perspective. Yet, in truth, that, too, is only a minute percentage of the windfall these days bring. It isn’t only about a bit more profit. It’s about the opportunity to change one’s entire spiritual dynamic.
Passing Up a “Golden” Opportunity
Let me illustrate this with a true story that happened with Rav Shmuel Berenbaum zt”l, rosh yeshiva of the Mirrer Yeshiva.
The story took place not long after World War II. The members of the Mirrer Yeshiva, after six years in golus in Shanghai, China, had finally boarded the boat to sail across the Pacific Ocean toward America. As the ship neared the port of San Francisco, California, one of the most enduring symbols of California, the famed Golden Gate Bridge, came into view.
The Golden Gate Bridge is a giant suspension bridge spanning the Golden Gate, the one-mile-wide strait connecting San Francisco and the Pacific Ocean. At the time of its opening in 1937, it was both the longest and the tallest suspension bridge in the world. Of course, for the Mirrer talmidim, who grew up in poverty-stricken Poland and Lita, it was a sight the likes of which they had never seen.
As the bridge came into view, everyone went out on deck to admire this marvel of invention and engineering ingenuity that symbolized American greatness and innovation.
One talmid, however, stayed below, his face buried in his Gemara, learning with great hasmodah. That talmid was the young Shmuel Berenbaum. “Shmuel,” one of his chaveirim urged, “come look at the bridge! It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see such a sight. When are you ever going to have the opportunity to see such a sight again in your life?”
Rav Shmuel responded with a profound answer: “I will only have this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to learn a Tosafos when I could have been looking at the Golden Gate Bridge!”
A “Golden” Perspective is a “Bridge” to Growth in Torah
Let’s analyze Rav Shmuel’s answer. It wasn’t just that he made a cost-benefit analysis and decided that he could get more s’char from learning than from seeing the bridge. That would have been a cheshbon for a simple grocery store owner.
Rav Shmuel recognized that the geshmak of learning a Tosafos and the kirvas Elokim of learning a Tosafos when he could have been looking at the bridge was so much sweeter. It wasn’t even a question. It wasn’t difficult. It was geshmak! His bond with the Torah was so strong that it was not even a question.
That’s what a properly observed Elul and Tishrei does for us. It isn’t just that we gain so much more s’char and that Hashem takes away so many aveiros that it’s worth it. For that, you can go to Ganei Geulah.
A Remarkable Opportunity, Not a Source of Dread
It’s far, far more than that. When a person observes Elul and Tishrei properly, he cleanses his neshomah and becomes so much more refined. He experiences such kirvas Elokim that the effort he invested doesn’t even feel like effort. He derives such taanug from shteiging, from getting close to Hashem, that he doesn’t want to leave.
Indeed, the Sefas Emes once saw a chossid rinsing his mouth with water right after Maariv on Motzoei Yom Kippur and disbelievingly commented, “You are so quickly washing out a mouth that has said so many devorim shebikedusha over Yom Kippur?!”
The point is that when we really do the avodah that we are supposed to do during Elul, viewing it as an unbelievably unique opportunity for kirvas Elokim, we should not—and will not—look at it with dread. Rather, we will view it with great anticipation.
Rabbosai, good times are coming!
