The following address was delivered on Shabbos in a local shul by one of its members who is in need of a yeshuah. May it serve to inspire many and may all the good that it accomplishes be a z’chus for a refuah sheleimah for Moshe ben Chana, b’soch sh’ar cholei Yisrael. Please have him in mind during your tefillos.
The yemeiElul are here and the Yom HaDin is almost upon us. In our own lives, we each have so many things to be grateful for, yet at the same time, still have so many wants and needs. This year, this period has taken on an even greater meaning for some of us, and it has become obvious that we need HaKadosh Baruch Hu’s constant help. However, we really must all realize and internalize that, quite literally, in every instance, all of our lives depend totally on Him and we are all in His hands, every minute of every day.
The mefarshim say that the biggest act of tochachah and mussar given in the Torah was when Yosef HaTzaddik said to his brothers the two words: “Ani Yosef!” He didn’t rebuke them by asking how they could have done what they did to him all those years ago or go on an accusatory rant. He merely said “Ani Yosef!” Just looking at Yosef, his mere presence, and with those two words, the brothers understood that what they had believed for the past 22 years was wrong. Yosef had not been destined to be a slave but rather was destined for malchus, and their actions had been misguided. Those two words, Ani Yosef, were all that was needed to be said for the message to be received.
Morai v’rabbosai, my dear fellow mispallelim, ani Moshe ben Chana. This is my new identity, and I want to speak to you about, and remind us all, of the opportunity we are given through the gift of tefillah and what it means to me. You don’t need to look very closely to see that I am on my own journey of tefillah and bakashah as I seek a yeshuah and refuah from HaKadosh Baruch Hu. But the beauty of this kehillah and every kehillah, is that we all must know and internalize that we are not on our own. I thank you from the depths of my heart for all of your tefillos. We have been so overwhelmingly touched by the outpouring of support and friendship from family, friends, and people who we don’t even know, who are expending so much effort to create z’chuyos on my behalf. We truly feel “Yisrael chad hu.” We are a family here and family cares about each other, davens for each other, shares simcha with each other, and, Rachmanah litzlan, hard times with each other. With that comforting knowledge, however, also comes an unbelievable achrayus. As members of this kehillah, we must do all that we can for each other, and we will be judged based upon the seriousness with which we take that responsibility. I, as well as many others, am counting on your tefillos, just as I am davening for each and every one of you and your families. For better or worse, we will either swim together or, chas v’shalom, sink together. This beis ha’knesses is our communal raft on the ocean that is our lives.
Right after I was diagnosed, I happened to stumble upon the famous story about a man who fell very ill and went to Rav Avigdor Miller, zt’l, for a berachah. Rav Miller asked the man if he gave the proper kavod to tefillah in shul, to which the man answered yes. Then Rav Miller continued, and asked him if others in his shul were all giving the proper kavod to tefillah as well, to which he answered—unfortunately, not all of them yet. The rav told him to leave his shul and begin davening elsewhere in a shul of mispallelim who understand the importance of tefillah and act in kind. The man did so, and he miraculously recovered. I am not in a position to give mussar and I certainly am not one who judges anybody. But I feel an achrayus to my fellow kehillah members and now to myself, as well. We are a tzibbur, a team, a family, and HaKadosh Baruch Hu views us that way. We are not a bunch of random people who happen to daven in the same place for our own individual problems. We are viewed as onekehillah, and if any one of us does not treat tefillah with the kavod that is required, that person, according to Rav Avigdor Miller, is devaluating and possibly negating his neighbors’ tefillos. I know that this is an awesome responsibility none of us would like to play with.
Our very thoughtful president and gabbai encouraged me to speak today to create extra z’chuyos for myself. Their rationale was that being officially involved in more tzorcheitzibbur will provide me with additional shemirah. What kindness they have shown me. They understand that members of one kehillah are indeed family to each other, and they acted out of pure, genuine care and concern.
When we embarked upon the construction of our beismidrash, we had one objective in mind—to build a shul in our midst that would be at least as beautiful as the homes that surround it, that would be a true haven for kiddushHashem and kedushah, and that would be a place from which pure, genuine tefillah and Torah emanate. Baruch Hashem, with the help and generosity of all of you, we were able to build this binyan, which I do believe is undoubtedly magnificent. But have we indeed succeeded in our true endeavor? Our illustrious rav puts his heart and soul into always conveying to us what our main purpose here is, because he understands its importance, and wants all the tefillos generated from here to be accepted and pleasing in the eyes of the Borei Olam. But do we all do justice to this cause? Have we fulfilled the shul’s true mission to be a mikdash me’at that was built to be mekadesh Shem Shamayim u’l’hagdil Torah u’lhaadirah?
Tefillah, at its core, is about our fundamental relationship with our Father in heaven. We are given three formal opportunities a day to connect with Him. How seriously do we value those opportunities? Do we need to wait until, chasv’shalom, we really need Him to take tefillah seriously? We need to develop the keen awareness that even in the good times He has to be standing with us for us to thrive, and through tefillah we are afforded this precious chance to recognize all that He does for each and every one of us daily. When one is in my position, trust me, you talk to Hashem all day. Every day. Begging. Pleading. Crying. Longing to be able to talk to Him again from a place of joy and peace.
What separates man from all other living beings is that he is a medaber; we have the power to speak and express our thoughts and emotions. However, we have to be careful to use our mouths appropriately. When we stand in this space during tefillah, this makom kadosh that was built with a lot of mesirus nefesh by many, do we really feel as if we are conversing with our Father? If our father asked to speak or meet with us every day for our own benefit, would we ever show up late? Would we ever let our attention wander or not look him in the eye? Would we talk to others instead of to him? What kind of kibbud av would that be and what kind of message would we be sending to our father? Unfortunately, my father is no longer alive, but what wouldn’t I give to have the opportunity to speak with him again as I did every day during his lifetime? Al achas kamma v’kamma how I should feel towards Avinu she’baShamayim, the Melech Malchei HaMelachim.
As I look around, I see all of you, my brothers, my family. I see those who are having difficulty with parnassah, challenges with their children, in need of shidduchim, in need of refuos, and the list goes on. I see those here that have had miraculous recoveries from many hardships—I am sure, due in no small part, to the fact that many of us came together, with a unified voice, to speak to our Father during those times. Can we really afford to waste any tefillah opportunity when so many here are counting on us?
No one can do it alone. As we begin Selichos tonight and approach this Rosh Hashanah, let us please, as a kehillah, take it upon ourselves to use our time here in our beismidrash the way it was meant to be spent . . . with introspection, with thought, with respect, with seriousness, and with the deep concern that I know each and every one of us has for one another. If we can accomplish that, I am confident that we can break the doors of Sha’areiShamayim wide open, so that our collective tefillos will iy’H be heard and answered by HaKadosh Baruch Hu the way we want them to be—l’tov!
I will conclude with a berachah for the New Year. May we always be able to connect to Hashem through happiness and may we never have to feel pain or desperation in order to propel us into heartfelt, genuine tefillah. Please, don’t waste our precious chances and please, let us not let each other down. Have a kesivah v’chasimah tovah and a gut gebentched yohr!