Joy and Elul

By Rabbi Moshe Krieger, Yeshivas Bircas HaTorah (www.bircas.org)

Twice in our parsha the Torah talks about being happy in the service of Hashem. The first time is by bikkurim. A farmer takes the first fruits of his field and brings them up to the Beis HaMikdash, and at the end of that whole process the pasuk says, “You shall rejoice with all the good that Hashem your God has given you and your household — you, and the Levi, and the convert who is in your midst” (Devarim 26:11). Look at where the mitzvah lands. The climax is joy:  Hashem gave you this fruit, Hashem gave you everything — be happy serving Him.

The second time is at the end of the parsha, in the section of the curses. The Torah gives the reason for everything that is going to come: “Because you did not serve Hashem your God with joy and with gladness of heart, when you had everything in abundance” (Devarim 28:47). Rashi explains that you had everything, and still you did not serve Hashem with joy. All of it came from one thing — a lack of simcha, joy.

This is very hard to understand. Why is simcha so important that all the curses should come because of it? And there is a second question. How do you ask a person to serve Hashem with simcha all the time? A person has his ups and downs. He has small problems, he has aggravation. He isn’t walking around happy every day of the week. So how can we ask it of him?

Rav Shlomo Wolbe says that serving Hashem with simcha is built on one thing — emunah, faith. Sit down and think about what Hashem has given you from the day you were born until today. He gave you your health. He gives you parnassah — a livelihood. He gave you a family. These are tremendous gifts, and every single one of them came from Him. Now think: what could I possibly give Him back for all that? Really, nothing. The one thing I can do is take His mitzvos and do them with zeal and with joy. That is my thank-you.

The Mesillas Yesharim writes (chapter 8) that every person owes Hashem so much for all the good He does for him. A wealthy man, a man with his health — for him it is obvious. But take a poor man who somehow, month after month, makes it to the end of the month. Is that not a tremendous gift from Hashem? And even a man who is sick — Hashem keeps him alive and gives him the strength to carry it. Whatever situation you are in, you owe Hashem so much. And that is what should push you to thank Him and to do His mitzvos with real zeal.

And it isn’t only the big things. Hashem gives you a little money, enough for a piece of clothing or something special for the Shabbos table — thank Him for it. Think about the man bringing his bikkurim. Maybe this year the harvest was bad and there is only a little in his basket. He carries it up anyway, and he does the whole thing with simcha. We also have to thank Hashem for every small thing He gives us. Every small thing.

The trouble is that once you have something, you stop seeing it as a gift. Somebody who learned in Slobodka told over that in those years there wasn’t even bread to eat. A rich man was somebody who had bread and something to dip it in — a little milk — and maybe a piece left over at the end. That was a wealthy man. So how much do we have to thank Hashem for everything we have? It is all a gift, a private gift from Hashem. And He gives each person exactly according to the avodah — the service — He wants from him. One has more, one has less. It isn’t random. It is measured out for the work Hashem wants from him.

Reb Tauber would say, half in jest, that a person has to go looking for ways to appreciate what Hashem gives him. Take somebody on a diet. All week he is eating plain whole-wheat bread and thin soup, and nothing on the plate has any taste to it. He isn’t doing anything wrong — he doesn’t want to be overweight. But Reb Tauber said that at the end of the meal he should eat one good piece of bread. Let him have something he enjoys, so that he can say Birkas Hamazon with simcha. The more you recognize that Hashem is the One giving, the more it will move you to serve Him with joy.

So one way in is recognizing the Giver. There is a second way, and the Saba MiKelm brings it out: the mitzvos themselves. They have tremendous joy sitting inside them. Torah is called “mesameach lev” — it gladdens the heart. On Tisha B’Av we can’t even learn Torah, because there is a sweetness in it, a taste that is very, very special. Tefillah — prayer — is also a big simcha. The Midrash on Tehillim (100) says in the name of Rav Aibu that whenever you stand up to daven you should be happy, because you are standing in front of HaKadosh Baruch Hu. Think about what that is. Every tefillah I am speaking to Hashem, and it brings me closer to Him.

And it isn’t only Torah and tefillah. Every mitzvah, if you stop and think about it, should give you joy. It is a privilege that I get to put on tefillin, that I get to wear tzitzis, that I get to say Krias Shema. Every one of them brings me closer to Hashem. Rav Wolbe says that if I prepare myself beforehand, I will feel actually feel the closeness.

So why don’t we feel it? Why don’t we serve Hashem with simcha? Because our heads are somewhere else. Sometimes we are doing the mitzvah for honor, or for what we will get out of it. And sometimes our head is simply in making money, or in running after the pleasures of this world. When the head is in a different place, it cannot taste the sweetness of the mitzvah, and it cannot feel the joy sitting inside it.

The Chovos Halevavos says something very similar in his introduction to Shaar Ahavas Hashem. Loving Hashem, he writes, is one of the greatest things there is. But you can only reach it if you are not running so much after the desires of this world. A head cannot be in two places at once. That is exactly why he placed perishus — holding back from worldly things — before love of Hashem in his sefer — his book. First step back a little from chasing after the world; then you can come to love Him and to do His mitzvos with joy.

This is the special work of Elul. The Arizal said that Elul is a time to leave the world alone a little, put down some of the desires, and put yourself into Torah and into serving Hashem. The Aruch Hashulchan explains what we say all month, “Ani l’dodi v’dodi li” — I am for my Beloved and my Beloved is for me. What does that mean? It means that in Elul my thoughts are on my Beloved and nowhere else. And when my thoughts are entirely on HaKadosh Baruch Hu, then He turns back to me too.

There were plenty of people who lived that way. In Kelm, even though the zman — the term — was already long, they added special learning sessions for Elul, two a day, eight hours straight each one. And I know people today who leave everything to come into yeshiva for Elul. Rav Don Segal takes a ta’anis dibbur — he doesn’t speak an idle word. He will speak Torah, he will speak about mitzvos and about serving Hashem, and nothing else, because Elul is not a time for his head to be anywhere else. Our part is the same. We are already sitting in yeshiva and the sedarim — the set learning hours — are laid out for us. So don’t break a seder up in the middle with idle talk. Learn the whole way through — that is what will bring us to a real love of Hashem.

Rav Yerucham once said that Elul is a vacation. Everybody was surprised: “Elul, a vacation?” “Yes,” he said. “You think the vacation was in the summer?” The summer was a vacation too, that’s true — a vacation for the body. You went to the sea, to the pool, some people went to a hotel, and the body got its strength back. Elul is the other one. Elul is a vacation for the neshamah — the soul. We leave the body alone a little and go strengthen the soul. And he added something: over the summer, nobody lets anything ruin his vacation. You don’t want problems, you don’t want interruptions. So in Elul too — don’t let anything interrupt it. This is our time to work on the neshamah and to come close to Hashem.

May we be zocheh to strengthen our service of Hashem this Elul, and to serve Him always with great simcha.