During a family trip to northern Israel recently, two images caught my attention. The first was in Safed. We have all seen many moving and creative memorial projects, but this was something new. At the entrance to a coffee shop stood an ordinary plastic-bottle recycling bin bearing a sign: “Recycling station to fund a tefillin stand, in memory of Staff Sgt. Uri Yitzhak Iluz.”
Beside it was the tefillin stand itself, already installed in his memory - presumably funded, at least in part, by the bottles that had been collected for recycling. There was no Chabad emissary stationed there. It was simply there, waiting for anyone passing by who wanted to put on tefillin.
I went into the coffee shop, and the waiter, who had noticed me taking a picture, said: “Bottles, tefillin, remembrance - it’s amazing how many good things you can do all at once.”
The second image was in Or HaGanuz, a magical moshav in the Galilee. The community was founded by Jews who became observant later in life, and they live there cooperatively, almost like a kibbutz, guided by ideals of brotherhood and unity.
Among other things, they run a winery. Their motto is: “Wine created out of love for people, love for God, and love for wine.” Their wines carry a wide range of kosher certifications, they explained, “to increase unity, so that everyone can drink them.”
At the entrance to the winery, I found a prayer engraved on a large wooden plaque: “The Winemaker’s Prayer.” I learned that it was composed by Dr. Arkady Papikian and Prof. Amos Hadas, two of Israel’s leading wine experts.
“We pray for our wine,” the people at the winery told me. “This is wine that will be used for Kiddush, at the Seder table, and at other occasions throughout the Jewish world. For us, this isn’t just a livelihood. It’s a mission.”
The prayer is remarkably detailed. It asks for blessing upon the wine itself, upon the bacteria and yeast, upon the growers who tend the grapes, upon the wineries and every stage of the process, “so that it may bring health and joy to all who drink it.”
Today is election day!
“Today is the start of election season,” someone said to me this week with a smile. I didn’t understand what he meant at first, but then I realized: Yes, today is the first day of the month of Elul.
This is indeed the start of a turbulent election season, but one that takes place inside of us: What kind of Jew will we decide to be in the coming year? What will we decide to change and improve? And also, how much effort will we exert to follow the upcoming political season with all its surveys, commentaries, and “spins,” and how much time will we devote to our own personal “elections,” dedicating ourselves to refining our conduct and improving our character traits?
There are 40 days between the first day of Elul and Yom Kippur. This is the time for our annual inspection test - not for our car, but for our soul. From time immemorial, this has been the season in the Jewish year for “recalculating our route” and recalibrating a spiritually healthy life balance.
Our sages teach us that the most practical way to achieve self-improvement is to focus on one area of our lives that we would like to change, something small that we would like to amend in the coming year. I invite you to consider what your own personal area of focus will be.
Elul reminds us that our “votes” are not only cast once every four years in the election booth, but at every moment of our lives - in our daily behavior, our attempts to grow stronger, and in every decision that we make, from the most important to the least significant, including those seemingly insignificant decisions that we hardly pay attention to.
To return - inward!
During the month of Elul, there is a lot of discussion about repentance. The Hebrew word for repentance is “teshuva,” but what does that actually mean?
This week, on the third of Elul, we commemorated the yahrzeit of Rabbi Avraham Yitzhak HaKohen Kook. Rabbi Kook wrote a beautiful definition of the teshuva process:
“The primary teshuva, that which immediately lights up the darkness, is when a person returns to himself, to the root of his soul. Then he will immediately return to God, to the Soul of all souls.”
At times, the external circumstances and turmoil of our lives obscure the essence of who we really are, and who we have the potential to become. These external factors cause us to become confused and act in ways that are beneath us.
Rabbi Kook says that teshuva is the process of turning inward, returning to our true selves. When we do that, we remember that we are all created in the image of God; in other words, that God is the root and the source of who we are. We belong to Him and desire to live according to His will and to fulfill the mission He designated for us in this world.
Rabbi Kook explains that the teshuva process is intended not only for individuals but also for the collective: the Jewish people and the entire world need to return to their true essence, to what they were meant to be.
Bring every moment to life!
Do we appreciate our time enough?
In last week’s Torah portion, we read about a person who kills someone unintentionally—a death caused by accident, without any intent to harm.
Rabbi Elimelech of Lizhensk, one of the great Hasidic masters, offers a striking interpretation. When a person neglects what truly matters in life, when he wastes his time, he is, in a sense, unintentionally “killing” the life he has been given. Instead of making each moment count, he creates more and more “dead” moments, time that passes without being put to good use.
But the opposite is also true. When we devote our time to what is meaningful and worthwhile, we add life to our lives. We bring the time we have been given to life.
We often speak about the commandments between a person and God, and those between one person and another. Perhaps we also need to think about our relationship with our time. And maybe, these days, even our relationship with our devices!
How much time disappears into scrolling and staring at a screen almost without our noticing, only to realize afterward that we have squandered something precious?
Rabbi Elimelech of Lizhensk calls on us, especially during the month of Elul, to become more aware of our time. At every moment, we are choosing anew whether to “kill” time, God forbid, or to bring it to life.
May we merit to use our time well, filling it with light, abundance, and holiness!
Translated by Yehoshua Siskin and Janine Muller Sherr
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