The most well-known theme of the Fall Feasts and Rosh Hashanah is that of Repentance (Teshuvah). It’s the time when we reflect on our previous year and we pray for the new. We stand beside living waters and cast the memories of our sins to be carried away as a reminder of cleansing renewal. It’s the ignition point of our awakening, our redemption, and our restoration.
So why bother starting a whole month early?
We have begun the month of Elul. At the end of this month, we will enter the New Year and that time of repentance. And yet, many start the process now. This is a time when some recite the Selichot prayers, when we sound the shofar and read Psalm 27 daily — all of these serve as calls to repentance. And rather than think, “Okay… so I repent for 30 days, and then for 10 more days, and then fast while repenting, and THEN five days later we party?” Let’s, instead think of it this way:
…As the Sages, of blessed memory, say in Rosh HaShana :
“Each year which starts in poverty [ends in wealth]….”
…[“Poverty”] refers to the contrition of the heart… – Ohr Yisrael 7:9
Sit with that for a moment. The year that starts in poverty ends in wealth.
As the commenter states, poverty equals contrition. It’s not simply a matter of feeling bad on one day or the next; is it? It’s a process of deliberately letting go in order to pick up something different. Think about how much we can receive if we have emptied our hands first. The principle is really quite simple.
Let go. And then hold your hands out.
It brings to mind the action of emptying one’s pockets. Of coins, perhaps, but also standing by a river to do Tashlich — turning out the corners of your pockets to remove all crumbs and left-behinds. There’s time and effort involved there. It takes a bit to impoverish ourselves. And the more we have, the longer it takes.
Consider all the things that you might slough off at this season.
[2Ti 2:21 ESV] 21 Therefore, if anyone cleanses himself from what is dishonorable, he will be a vessel for honorable use, set apart as holy, useful to the master of the house, ready for every good work.
The amount of time that can be devoted to repentance at this season can feel like a lot. Maybe it even feels like a bit of a bummer. But it doesn’t have to be. It’s better for us if we remember the time that the process takes. In order to end this year in poverty, we likely need to surrender things we once valued. We probably have to make choices and set priorities. We’ll have to switch perspectives, modify long-held habits, and probably take our pride down a notch or two… or ten.
If we spend this month of Elul concentrating on repentance and self-examination, that’s 29 days of preparation. If we then take the day of Yom Teruah (Rosh Hashanah) to reflect on the previous year, to ritualize the release of our sin in the cleansing waters, and to hear the cry of the shofar, that’s one more day. Then we spend the Ten Days of Awe in prayer and petitioning, watching and waiting — and that’s more reflection time. Finally, we enter Yom Kippur — the Holiest Day — with absolutely nothing of our own.
We renounce all of our vows and the pride in which we made them. We clothe ourselves in white and in humility. We empty ourselves and remain empty for a 25-hour dry fast. We afflict our souls (Lev 23:27) and seek atonement and what it is to draw near in confidence of His covering.
THEN will come the Marriage Supper. It’s the time of dwelling in Tabernacles (Sukkot), when we feast and we rejoice with the Spirit and with community. Under HaShem’s canopy, we start to be filled up all over again.
PSALM 27
There is ONE tradition that is sustained from Rosh Chodesh Elul through the 7th Day of Sukkot, Hoshanah Rabbah. It’s not the shofar blasts, those culminate on Rosh Hashanah. It’s not Selichot prayers or repentance, those climax at Yom Kippur. The one tradition that is kept for 56 straight days is the reading of Psalm 27. The Midrash, Vayikra Rabbah 21 equates Ps 27:1, “my light” with Rosh Hashanah and “my salvation” with Yom Kippur. The Psalm goes on to say in verse 5, “He will hide me in His shelter [בְּסֻכֹּה]”: in His Sukkah.
Beyond each of these interesting and mystical connections in the text, the overall message of this Psalm of David speaks to the heart and soul of this season. Commentators have stated that in verse one, “Fear/Yirah” refers to the dangers we see, while “Dread/Pachad” refers to that which we don’t see. In both, we find our comfort in the LORD alone. They find that in verse four, there is one request in which all requests are held, for no desire is higher than the desire of a non-priest, non-Levite who seeks to enter the LORD’s Temple simply to experience the sheer joy of being close to God there. Like it says in verse six, we make offerings of our cries to Him. In verse 10, we proclaim Him as the Savior and Comforter, even when all others forsake us. In verse 13, we know that in His goodness, we shall live with Him.
But there is one last verse… and in it, I see the true depth of this season of renewal.
Showing Up Empty
[Psa 27:14 ESV] 14 Wait for the LORD; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the LORD!
The word, “wait” in this verse (and many others) is KAVEH [קַוֵּה]. Most notably, it is the root of “tikvah”, as in, HaTikvah: the Israeli national anthem. It also is the root of the word “mikvah”, as in, the pool for ritual immersion. KAVEH can mean “to gather”, which is where we get mikvah, as in the gathering of the waters. And can mean “to hope”, which is its meaning in the national anthem.
In Psalm 27:14, it is translated as “wait” in almost every translation — and that’s fine. But I found the deepest insight into this verse within Rashi’s commentary which rendered the meaning this way,
“Hope for the LORD. And if your prayer is not accepted, reinforce your hope.”
If you find yourself entering this season with a poverty that is more than a humbled heart’s contrition, immerse yourself in David’s words here.
If you are coming empty-handed to the throne, repeating last year’s requests, don’t lose heart.
The challenge of looking back over the previous year is a loaded one. We might think about how far we’ve come. We might find that that isn’t very far. Maybe we’re assessing our growth and finding it minimal. Haven’t we all stood at the water letting go of something that we thought we’d released long ago? Psalm 27:14 reminds us that these are not reasons to despair. The exact opposite, in fact. We are to renew our hope.
Look at all the meanings of KAVAH. In Hebrew, hope is a twisting, gathering, binding, enveloping, enduring, patient, collection of expectancy. There is nothing passive about it. In fact, it’s like a rope — hope is something to hold onto.
Think on that this season. As you let go of your sins, take hold of hope. As you empty yourself through contrition, fill yourself with hope. As you lay down all this past year’s burdens, lift of up hope. Banish the seen and unseen fears so that you might welcome the seen and unseen of hope. Turn all of your requests and desires to ask just one thing of the LORD — to seek Him in His Temple — and hope in that with all your heart.
Expect that He will save you, comfort you, and bring you home.
I pray that for all that you let go of this year, you take hold of a much greater treasure.
“Each year which starts in poverty [ends in wealth]….”