By Rabbi Dan Lewin
There are three primary modes of interaction between us and the Divine. It goes something like this: We receive a sign from Above, some form of kindness in our lives. We then respond out of gratitude, making more of an effort, reaching out from below. Finally, we are answered with an influx of blessings from Above. This is an ongoing dynamic and at any given moment, one of these may dominate, setting the tone for the next stage.
The same process plays out over the course of the calendar year. Nisan represents the awakening from Above — the month of miracles, as the Hebrew name implies. Just as this played out in the delivery from Egypt, so too we can tap into this same energy of an awakening from Above in our personal lives.
Elul, on the other hand, is the prime month of our effort, as we actively climb the heavenly ladder to connect with G-d. This is reflected in the word Elul, which spells out the first letters of the verse from Song of Songs 6:3: “I am to my beloved, and my beloved is to me.” This emphasizes our initiative. The final letters of each of those four Hebrew words correspond numerically to 40, alluding to the final 40 days (between Elul and Yom Kippur) when Moshe ascended to pray for forgiveness.
Then comes Rosh Hashanah, the awakening from Above — the Divine response to our work in Elul.
The deeper dimension of Elul
Looking from a mystical point of view, what distinguishes a Yom Tov from a regular day? One answer lies in the revelation of holiness. On Yom Tov, we refrain from certain types of labor to connect with the spiritual atmosphere of the day and avoid hindering it. During this time, the “lights are on” — we gather in shul with loved ones to commemorate a pivotal event in our history that also triggers replayed blessings in the present day. On Rosh Hashanah, this means praying for a sweet new year ahead. We don’t need to generate the ambiance of these Days of Awe to get inspired; it’s already alive within the stirring memories and poetic lines of the prayers.
The month leading up to this big day, however, is often seen merely as preparation — a time to get spiritually in shape so we’re not caught off guard during the precious moments of the Day of Judgment. But here’s the catch: Elul is actually a period when the 13 attributes of Divine mercy, typically associated with Yom Kippur, are already flowing strongly.
If so, why isn’t Elul a Yom Tov? Because unlike the more potent form, this type of mercy isn’t here to awaken us; it’s here to assist us in making our own efforts. We get an extra push to succeed in our hard work. In other words, G-d wants us to make purposeful, individual progress in our spiritual maturation but gives us extraordinary momentum to help us along.
The key is in the flavor of our preparation: to access the power of teshuvah when the lights are not on, when everything still feels ordinary. This type of self-generated change is more precious and powerful than when it comes through the external environment.
The King is in the field
To give an analogy from current events, in an election year, the atmosphere feels different from regular times. A future leader steps out among the people to campaign. Once the person is elected and seated in the palace (or White House), the citizens live under the policies that leader enacts.
A similar process reflects our relationship with Hashem during Elul. This is when “the King is in the field,” offering the common person greater access to the Creator. It is an auspicious period of closeness, a gesture of kindness and personal attention, inviting us to wake up and make changes.
But we must choose Hashem, appoint Him as ruler, by acknowledging His ongoing supervision and control over our lives. To do this, we need to shift our focus from the small concerns of our lives — our preoccupation with our tiny corner of the universe — to a broader awareness of the Divine. On Rosh Hashanah, we make that ultimate election and acceptance, which is the theme of the day.
A 5-step guide to real change
Now that we’ve defined the task — what our preparation entails — how do we ensure that it will be more permanent and far-reaching? The simple parameters of teshuvah are regret for past mistakes and the resolve to embrace positive change or correction within the guidelines of Torah for the future. But this process is not easy; it demands personal transformation. The Chassidic master, Reb Zusya of Anapoli, provided a more concrete and comprehensive formula using the five Hebrew letters of teshuvah, each corresponding to a scriptural verse. This formula covers all facets of life and addresses some natural inclination that needs to be realigned by bringing the higher level of G-d into our consciousness.
The first letter, taf, recalls the verse: “You shall be sincere with Havayah, your G-d” (Deuteronomy 18:13). Our natural tendency is to act with ulterior motives, even for spiritual rewards, or to make calculations about the future in times of crisis. The transformation required here is to cultivate simplicity, doing what needs to be done while trusting G-d to take care of the rest.
The second letter, shin, corresponds to the verse: “I place (shiviti) Havayah before me always” (Psalms 16:8). Our emotional fluctuations are part of human nature, but the word shiviti shares a root with equanimity and consistency. By deepening our connection to our source, we can practice staying even-keeled, avoiding the extremes of emotional highs and lows.
The third letter, vav, is linked to the verse: “And you shall love your fellow as yourself” (Leviticus 19:18). This calls us to refine our human relationships. Naturally, we feel separate from others and loving another person as yourself may seem impossible. That’s why commentaries focus on action rather than emotion in this command. Yet, a deeper understanding of our interconnectedness at the soul level, where our physical bodies create the illusion of separation, forms the foundation of the entire Torah.
The letter beit, representing the fourth letter of teshuvah, is reflected in the verse from Proverbs (3:6): “Know Him in all your ways.” We often compartmentalize our lives, viewing mundane activities such as eating, drinking or earning a living as separate from the sacred acts of prayer or Torah study. However, by staying mindful of G-d’s presence in our daily actions — whether by making a blessing over food or recognizing Divine providence at work — we elevate the ordinary and bring holiness into every aspect of our existence.
Finally, hei, the last letter, reminds us of the verse: “Walk humbly with your G-d” (Micah 6:8). The ego naturally seeks recognition for our achievements, but true teshuvah calls for humility. We must learn to act without seeking attention, even for good deeds.
Sincerity, consistency, love, mindfulness and humility — these qualities form the foundation for a complete and impactful teshuvah.
Rabbi Dan Lewin is director of the nonprofit Maayan Chai Foundation. For information, visit www.maayan-chai.org.