It’s the annual post-Sukkos ritual. We dismantle our sukkahs, put away the machzorim and decorations, and try somehow to salvage our precious esrogim – whether by boiling them to make esrog jelly, turning them into pincushions stuck with fresh cloves for havdala, or cutting them up to make esrog liqueur (I know, I’ve tried them all). And then, the Yamim Nora’im are truly over and we go back to “business as usual.”
Too often, the tremendous spiritual highs that we reached over Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur start to quickly wane and dissipate, as we re-immerse ourselves into the day-to-day challenge of running our lives – taking care of our families, earning a living. Deep down, we yearn to hold onto the incredible ruchniyus (spirituality) of Yom Tov, but each year, as we arrive at Elul, we seem to be back at square one. We stare at the calendar with trepidation, wondering how best to prepare ourselves to scale those heights once again, to do a proper, meaningful teshuva, secretly worrying that it’s an exercise in futility, because after all, haven’t we been there before?
Two new books have just been released to take us by the hand and lead us on a new path up that mountain. The first one, by Rabbi Yechiel Spero, a rebbe in Talmudical Academy, is entitled, A Touch of Purity: The Soul of Teshuva through Stories and Reflections (Artscroll, 334 pages). In it, Rabbi Spero wastes no time getting down to business. He addresses his initial comments to his children, to whom he dedicates this book, and admonishes them to “live like a Yom Kippur Yid,” which he defines as “one who lives his or her entire life bearing Yom Kippur in mind.” With great affection, he pours his heart out to his sons and daughters and shares a saying of Chazal (the ancient Sages) in which Yom Kippur is referred to as Yom Chasunaso, a wedding day, and beseeches them to understand that there is no greater joy in life than being close to the Almighty. It’s a message that is just as apt for us.
As he did throughout his Touched by a Story series, Rabbi Spero delivers his message by interweaving short vortlach with an astonishing array of personal accounts, mashalim, and homiletic stories. He brings to life unforgettable scenes that drive his message home – we overhear Rav Isser Zalman Meltzer, zt”l, overcome by his tefilos during Elul, compare himself to a passul (invalid) Sefer Torah, and requesting that he, too, be wrapped in a gartel; we watch in awe as the Satmar Rebbe, Rav Yoel Teitelbaum, zt”l, wraps his arms around a Sefer Torah just before Kol Nidrei, and weeps over it with contrition and love, asking it to deliver a message “to our zisse Tatte in Himmel (sweet Father in Heaven);” and we observe with reverence as the Ponovezher Rav, Rabbi Yosef Shlomo Kahaneman, zt”l, dines alone on erev Rosh Hashana, year after year, because of a neder (vow) he had once made solely for the purpose of sparing someone from hurt. Rabbi Spero brings these Torah giants to life, and their stories resonate long after we leave them behind.
Along with the many inspiring stories, Rabbi Spero shares meaningful insights, complex gematriyas, and concepts connected by their common shorashim (roots) to add depth and breadth to his text. One of my favorites is his discussion of the different levels of meaning of Yom Teruah, the Torah’s only reference to Rosh Hashanah. He begins by citing Rabbi Shimshon Pincus, zt”l, in his sefer, She’arim B’Tefila, which catalogues a variety of terms for prayer, one of them being itur, which has the same shoresh (root) as teruah. Itur is defined as a persistent form of prayer, one that was used by Yitzchak when he prayed for a child. He then brings in a gemara from Sukkah (14a) which compares the tefilos of tzadikim to a pitchfork – an eser in Hebrew – an implement for picking up and turning over wheat in a field: in much the same way, the prayers of tzadikim can turn the middas hadin (judgment) to middas harachamim (mercy). Both itur and eser have the same shoresh – as does rei’us (friendship). Rabbi Spero concludes by juxtaposing all of these concepts into a beautifully coherent message: the short pounding blasts of the shofar sound of teruah echoes the sound of itur, which by its repetition and persistence creates a rei’us between us and Hashem, which can serve as an eser and help overturn the judgment of Din. The richness of this discussion is but one of many in this book. Rabbi Spero has produced a worthwhile companion to accompany us on the challenging but ultimately rewarding struggle to attain spiritual clarity during the Yamim Nora’im and beyond.
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For those of us who need a more concrete, how-to, type of guide to grow spiritually, Rabbi Doniel Frank, a musmach from Ner Israel and a therapist in private practice, has just published How Can I Change for Heaven’s Sake: A Practical 10-Step Plan to Improve the ABC’s (Attitude, Behavior, and Character) of your Life (Feldheim, 128 pages). While the title of the book may be a bit long, the book itself is a very fast read, with content that is solid, accessible, and immediately useful. Rabbi Frank introduces us to a prototypical “searcher” who discovers that his teshuva process has been lacking and that he is “pitifully unprepared” to fully appreciate the import of Ne’ilah, the final beseeching prayer of Yom Kippur. In his desire for meaningful and lasting spiritual change, the searcher sets out to meet with and learn from an unnamed “mentor” every day for 10 days – coincidentally, during the Aseres Yemei Teshuva, the Ten Days of Repentance – who can provide him with a roadmap to help him navigate his course. The mentor gives the student homework each day, and we get to witness the progress this young man makes in his quest to find an authentic connection with the Almighty, or, as Rabbi Spero had put it, to become a Yom Kippur Yid.
What distinguishes Rabbi Frank’s work from the bevy of self-help books populating bookstore shelves is embedded in its title: the understanding that true spiritual growth can only be sustained if it’s for Heaven’s sake. Rabbi Frank starts by distinguishing between Rosh Hashana commitments and secular new year’s resolutions. He differentiates between resolutions that are made to feel better about yourself (e.g., losing weight, getting organized, quitting smoking) and those intended to bring you closer to G-d (e.g., not speaking lashon hara, praying with a minyan, learning more Torah). Putting G-d into the picture, remembering the “Ana Hashem” of the Rambam’s prescription for teshuva, is essential for life-altering change to take place. And according to Rabbi Frank, the main purpose of Rosh Hashana is to spend it reflecting on our relationship with G-d. “Empty yourself of your predispositions,” he urges, “. so that you can be a vessel to receive G-d’s influence. That is how you can achieve the highest level of connection.” Doing so is a prerequisite for Step One: Creating the Framework for Change.
When we daven on Yom Kippur, and beat our chests during the “al cheits,” we too often can feel like hypocrites, knowing that we have failed to rectify the many flaws in our characters and, as Rabbi Frank puts it, that there are still countless skeletons hanging in our closets. The genius behind Rabbi Frank’s work is his ability to reassure his seeker (and that means all of us) that the path to change is not smooth, that falling from time to time does not imply failure, and that we cannot expect to change overnight: “There is real cause for concern only if you present yourself to G-d as a `finished product,’ despite your lengthy list of flaws. But when you present yourself as a work-in-progress, it is altogether different.” Growth, he reiterates, is a lifelong process.
A beautiful point that Rabbi Frank shares is his explanation for why many of us adopt chumros (stringencies) during the Aseres Yemei Teshuva. It’s so that we can “role model righteousness for ourselves. In this way, our aspirations are a standard that we ourselves have set (emphasis added).” Once we take on a practice for a week, we realize that we are capable of raising our standards, and that we can grow.
This is no pop psychology tome. The ten steps Rabbi Frank elucidates are solidly sourced from either Chazal or contemporary gedolim, among them the Rambam, Rabbeinu Tam, the Vilna Gaon, Rabbi Shlomo Wolbe, zt”l, and Rabbi Yaakov Weinberg, zt”l, and all the sources are properly identified at the back of the book. This is a book not simply meant to be read, but worked through, and more than once if necessary. The seeker’s mentor becomes our mentor. Rabbi Frank’s book is deeply insightful and should serve as a valuable aid to anyone who needs a roadmap to attaining a close and life-altering relationship with his Creator.
During last year’s teshuva drasha, Rabbi Yissocher Frand urged everyone in the audience to make an effort to work on themselves throughout the year, so that when Yom Tov returned, we would not be back at square one. Those of us who find ourselves there forget that teshuva is not something we are meant to work on only ten days a year, or even forty. As Rabbi Spero notes, “Teshuva takes preparation” – all year long. Both Rabbi Spero and Rabbi Frank have given us useful tools to guide and inspire us on our long and worthwhile journey to spiritual growth and accomplishment.
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Finally, in keeping with the theme of this article to start the year off right, I felt compelled to share one more recently released book that I found thoroughly engrossing and believe can make a huge contribution to every family’s Torah library. It is called The Nach Yomi Companion (Xlibris; OU Press), issued in two volumes (Vol. 1: Neviim and Vol. 2: Kesuvim), by Rabbi Jack Abramowitz, an educator, kiruv professional, and currently Associate Director of Synagogue Services for the Orthodox Union.
With chapter titles like, “Cook with Half, Worship the Other Half” (Yeshaya, Perek 44); “What’s Wrong with this Sundial?” (Melachim Beis, Perek 20); “Bentching Explained” (Shmuel Beis, Perek 22); “Dude! Where’s My Donkey?” (Shmuel Aleph, Perek 9), “King Saul and the Deathly Hallows” (Shmuel Aleph, Perek 28) and “Gideon’s Here to Knock Heads and Give Out Candy (Please Note: He’s All Out of Candy)” (Shoftim, Perek 8), Rabbi Abramowitz ensures that his readers will sit up and pay attention. More importantly, his style serves as an engaging invitation to a sometimes inaccessible or intimidating text. In places, he even inserts tangential or parenthetical remarks, relying on various meforshim to elucidate the meaning or to give his readers an important heads-up. For example, in Shmuel Aleph, Perek 21, he notes, “Shaul had a faithful officer named Doeg, who happened to be worshipping in Nov and witnessed the transaction between David and Achimelech. File away that piece of information; it’s going to be important later.”
Rabbi Steven Burg, International Director of NCSY, in his foreword to the book, describes Rabbi Abramowitz’s writings and translations as mirroring those of Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan, zt”l. Like Rabbi Kaplan, Rabbi Abramowitz has a knack for giving over the gist of the text in engaging, contemporary language. Unlike The Living Torah, however, The Nach Yomi Companion does not translate the text word for word; its intent is to provide a compelling summary that will captivate those new to the material and whet their appetite for more. It is equally suitable for middle schoolers learning Nach for the first time, and for adults who would like an overview of the various sefarim, many of which they may never have had a chance to learn before.
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With these new releases at hand, there is every reason to believe that this New Year 5771 can be one of tremendous personal growth and learning. And next year, iy”H, when we turn the calendar page once again to Elul, it will be b’lev maleh simcha (with hearts full of joy), knowing that we heeded Rabbi Frand’s call, that we demonstrated our ability to change and grow, with Hashem’s help, one day at a time.
The writer thanks Mrs.Geula Golfeiz, of the RYS Library, for providing the books reviewed in this article. For information about RYS Library, call 410-764-7353
