אֱלֹהֵֽינוּ וֵאלֹהֵי אֲבוֹתֵֽינוּ Our God and God of our fathers. The Ba’al Shem Tov taught: The reason we say “Our God and God of our fathers” is that there are two types of people who believe in God. The first believes because he follows the way of his fathers, strongly maintaining their tradition of faith. The second is the one who gains his faith through reason and philosophical thought. There is an important difference between these two individuals. The first has the advantage that he cannot be tempted, even if he is confronted with philosophical arguments that challenge his faith. His faith remains strong because of the traditions that he has from his fathers. Besides this, he has never depended on philosophical speculation. On the other hand, this person also has a disadvantage. His faith is not well reasoned, nor thought out, and is essentially the result of habit. The second also has an advantage. He has discovered God with his logic, and is very strong in his faith. However, he also has a disadvantage. He can be persuaded by logic, and if confronted with the arguments that tear down the logical structure of his faith, he can be tempted away. The person who gains his faith in both these ways has every advantage. He depends strongly on the traditions of his forefathers, while at the same time taking advantage of his logic in thinking things out. He thus has the best and most perfect faith. When we say, “Our God and God of our fathers,” we thus allude to both paths to faith in God.

REPENTANCE, PRAYER AND CHARITY Rabbi Menaḥem Mendel Schneerson, the Lubavitcher Rebbe, pointed out that the usual translation of these words is inaccurate. Teshuva does not mean penitence. Tefilla does not mean prayer. Tzedaka does not mean charity. The word for penitence in Hebrew is ḥarata, meaning remorse for the wrong we have done. Teshuva means return. It tells us that every sin is a form of being lost; we are not where we are meant to be. Teshuva means coming home. The word for prayer, in the sense of request, is bakasha. Tefilla comes from the verb meaning “to judge.” Lehitpalel means “to judge oneself.” In tefilla we are both subject and object, the doer and the judge of what we do. It is this capacity for self-judgment that makes us capable of moral growth. The word for charity is gemilut ḥasadim. Tzedaka means justice, or justice and charity combined. There is no word for this in English. In Judaism we give, not out of charity but out of justice. מַעֲבִירִין אֶת רֹֽעַ הַגְּזֵרָה Avert the evil of the decree. In these four Hebrew words lies the difference between a hope culture and a tragic culture. In ancient Greece, there was a belief that once a decree had been sealed there was no way of averting it. Every act taken to frustrate it merely brought it closer to fulfillment. That forms the heart of the tragedy of Oedipus and Laius. In Judaism every decree can be averted by sincere repentance. That is the significance of the story of Jonah and the people of Nineveh. Jonah came and announced the decree: In forty days Nineveh will be destroyed. But the people repented and the decree was annulled. There is no fate that is final, no destiny that cannot be changed. Therefore there is always hope. Greece gave the world its greatest tragedies, those of Sophocles, Aeschylus and Euripides. Israel was and remains the supreme culture of hope. REPENTANCE The Ba’al Shem Tov said: When a person brings a candle into a dark place, the darkness disappears completely. The same is true when a person repents. Even though he was previously in a place of darkness, when it is illuminated with the light of Torah, the darkness disappears completely. Rabbi Bunam of Pzhysha said to his disciples: The sins that a person commits – those are not his great crime. Temptation is powerful and our strength is frail. The great crime is that he can repent at any moment, and yet does not do so. Said Rabbi Abraham Kook: Sudden penitence comes about as a result of a certain spiritual flash that enters the soul. At once the person senses all the evil and the ugliness of sin and he is converted into a new being; already he experiences inside himself a complete transformation for the better. There is also a gradual form of penitence. No sudden flash of illumination dawns upon the person to make him change from the depths of evil to the good, but he feels that he must mend his way of life, his will, his pattern of thought. By heeding this impulse he gradually acquires the ways of equity, he corrects his morals, he improves his actions, and he conditions himself increasingly to becoming a good person, until he reaches a high level of purity and perfection. There is another kind of feeling of penitence, unspecified and general. A person does not conjure up the memory of the past sin or sins, but in a general way he feels terribly depressed. He feels himself pervaded by sin; that the divine light does not shine on him; that there is nothing noble in him; that his heart is unfeeling, his moral behavior does not follow the right course, worthy of sustaining a meaningful life for a wholesome human being. For this state of spiritual malaise, penitence comes as the therapy from a master physician. A sense of assurance in the healing, the general renewal that penitence extends to all who embrace it, distills in him a spirit of grace and acceptance. Penitence is always present in the heart. At the very time of sin, penitence is hidden in the soul, and it releases its impulses, which become manifest when remorse comes summoning to repent. Nothing is more certain than penitence, and in the end everything will be redressed and perfected. (The Lights of Penitence) PRAYER Once Rabbi Levi Yitzḥak of Berditchev walked over to a group of his disciples after prayers had ended and welcomed them: “Shalom aleikhem.” The disciples were surprised and asked the Rebbe what he meant. They hadn’t been away. “I was speaking,” he said, “not to your bodies but your minds. I saw that while you were praying, you were thinking about other things. Your bodies were here but your minds were far away. Now that they have returned, I wished them shalom aleikhem.” All beings long for the very source of their origin. Every plant, every grain of sand, every clod of earth, small creatures and great, the heavens and the angels, every substance and its particles – all of them are longing, yearning, panting to attain the state of holy perfection. Human beings suffer constantly from this homesickness of the soul, and it is in prayer that we cure it. When praying, we feel at one with the whole creation, and raise it to the very source of blessing and life. (Rabbi Abraham Kook, Olat Re’iya) CHARITY There are ten strong things in the world: Rock is strong, but iron breaks it. Iron is strong, but fire melts it. Fire is strong, but water extinguishes it. Water is strong, but the clouds carry it. The clouds are strong, but the wind drives them. The wind is strong, but man withstands it. Man is strong, but fear weakens him. Fear is strong, but wine removes it. Wine is strong, but sleep overcomes it. Sleep is strong, but death stands over it. What is stronger than death? Acts of charity (tzedaka), for it is written [Prov. 10:2], “Tzedaka delivers from death.” (Bava Batra 10a) There are eight degrees of charity, each one higher than the other. The highest degree, exceeded by none, is that of one who assists a poor person by providing him with a gift or a loan or by accepting him into a business partnership or by helping him find employment – in a word, by putting him in a situation where he can dispense with other people’s aid. With reference to such aid it is said, “You shall strengthen him, be he a stranger or a settler, he shall live with you” (Lev. 25:35), which means: strengthen him in such a manner that his falling into want is prevented. A step below this is one who gives alms to the needy in such a way that the giver does not know to whom he gives and the recipient does not know from whom he takes. This exemplifies doing a good deed for its own sake. One example was the Hall of Secrecy in the Temple, where the righteous would place their gift clandestinely and where poor people from noble families could come and secretly help themselves to aid. Close to this is putting money in a charity box… One step lower is where the giver knows to whom he gives, but the poor person does not know from whom he receives. Thus the great sages would go and secretly put money into poor people’s doorways… A step lower is when the poor person knows from whom he is taking, but the giver does not known to whom he is giving. Thus the great sages would tie coins in their scarves, which they would fling over their shoulders, so that the poor could help themselves without suffering shame. Lower than this, is where someone gives the poor person a gift before he asks. Lower still is one who gives only after the poor person asks. Lower than this is one who gives less than is fitting, but does so with a friendly countenance. The lowest level is one who gives ungraciously. (Maimonides, Laws of Gifts to the Poor 10:7–14) The Kaminker Rebbe once resolved to devote a whole day to reciting Psalms. Toward evening, he was still reciting when a messenger came to tell him that his mentor, the Maggid of Tzidnov, wanted to see him. The rebbe said he would come as soon as he was finished, but the messenger returned, saying that the Maggid insisted that he come immediately. When he arrived, the Maggid asked him why he had delayed. The rebbe explained that he had been reciting Psalms. The Maggid told him that he had summoned the rebbe to collect money for a poor person in need. He continued: “Psalms can be sung by angels, but only human beings can help the poor. Charity is greater than reciting Psalms, because angels cannot perform charity.”

אָדָם יְסוֹדוֹ מֵעָפָר Man is founded in dust and ends in dust. Our time on earth is all too short. Our most precious commodity – given to each of us on roughly equal terms – is time. However rich or powerful we are there are still only twenty-four hours in a day, 365 days in a solar year, and a span of years that is all too short. The most important decision we make in our lives is how to spend our time. Looked at from the perspective of eternity we are nothing: a wave in the ocean, a grain of sand on the sea shore, dust on the surface of infinity. Yet we are not alone in a universe bereft of meaning. We are here because God created us in love and forgiveness. We are here because He wanted us to be, because there is a task He wants us to perform. Each one of us is unique. Even genetically identical twins are different. There are things only we can do, we who are what we are, in this time, this place, these circumstances. For each of us God has a task, work to perform, a kindness to show, a gift to give, love to share, loneliness to ease, pain to heal, broken lives to mend, and discerning that task, hearing God’s call, is one of the great spiritual challenges for each of us. Where what we want to do meets what needs to be done, that is where God wants us to be. And when we are there, our lives take on a meaning that no thought of mortality can defeat. “There are those who acquire their share of eternity in a single hour” (Avoda Zara 10b, 17a). The good we do lives after us and beyond us, inspiring others to do good in turn, creating ever widening ripples. Our lives are short, but just as we do not judge a book by its size or a symphony by its length, so a life is not measured by its years but by its generosity, its moral beauty, the blessings it creates in the lives of others. Rabbi Moshe of Kobryn taught: It is written, “And he dreamed, and behold a ladder set up on the earth.” That is every person. Everyone must know: I am earth, mere dust of the earth. But “the top of it reached to heaven” – my soul can still reach to heaven. “And behold the angels of God ascending and descending on it” – even the ascent and descent of the angels depend on my deeds.

בָּרוּךְ כְּבוֹד־יהוה מִמְּקוֹמוֹ Blessed is the Lord’s glory from His place. Two prophets, Isaiah and Ezekiel, saw visions of God enthroned in the heavens surrounded by angelic hosts. Their visions, though, were profoundly different. Isaiah said, “The whole world is filled with His glory.” Ezekiel saw “the Lord’s glory from His place.” The difference is that Isaiah prophesied when Israel was in its land, the Temple stood, the priests performed their service and the Levites sang their song. Ezekiel prophesied from Babylon, in exile. He was in mourning, a prisoner of war. He saw God’s glory confined, as it were, to heaven. There are times when we see God’s glory in the world, but there are other times when there is hester panim, when it is as if God were hiding His face. (Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik)

לְדוֹר וָדוֹר From generation to generation. Rabbi Yaakov Yitzḥak of Pzhysha said: If anyone is asked why he toils so hard, he replies: “To bring up my children to be good Jews.” And when the children grow up, they forget why their parents toiled, and they toil in their turn, and if you ask them why, they will say, “To bring up my children to be good Jews.” And so it goes on from generation to generation. But when will someone say, “Let me be a good Jew”?

וּמִפְּנֵי חֲטָאֵֽינוּ But because of our sins we were exiled from our land. Rabbi Ḥanokh of Alexander said: “The worst exile is to forget that you are in exile.”

וּבְכֵן תֵּן פַּחְדְּךָ And so place the fear of You. Rabbi Moshe of Kobryn taught: At the end of Ecclesiastes we read, “The end of the matter, all having been heard: fear God” (12:13). Now whatever matter you come to the end of, you will always hear this one maxim: fear God. And this one is the whole. There is not a single thing in all the world that does not show you a way to fear God and to serve Him.

וְאִם כַּעֲבָדִים, עֵינֵֽינוּ לְךָ תְלוּיוֹת And if as slaves, our eyes are raised and fixed on You. Rabbi Moshe Leib of Sasov said: How easy it is for a poor man to depend on God. What else has he to depend on? And how hard it is for a rich man to depend on God. All his possessions call out to him: Depend on us.

עַל־כֵּן הָמוּ מֵעַי לוֹ And so it is that I long for him within. A man came to the Rabbi of Kotzk and complained of his sons who refused to support him, though he was old and no longer able to earn his own livelihood. “I was always ready to do anything for them,” he said, “and now they won’t have anything to do with me.” Silently the rabbi raised his eyes to Heaven. “That’s how it is,” he said softly. “The father shares in the sorrow of his sons, but the sons do not share in the sorrow of their father.”

כִּי אַתָּה שׁוֹמֵֽעַ קוֹל שׁוֹפָר For You hear the call of the shofar. Rabbi Pineḥas of Koretz said: It is written, “Lift up your voice like a shofar” (Isaiah 58:1). Just as a shofar cannot emit any sound except when blown by man, no man can raise his voice in prayer except when the Divine Presence prays through him.

יִשָּׂא יהוה פָּנָיו אֵלֶֽיךָ וְיָשֵׂם לְךָ שָׁלוֹם May the Lord turn His face toward you and grant you peace. Rabbi Bunam of Pzhysha taught: Our sages say, “Seek peace in your own place.” You cannot find peace anywhere other than in your own self. In Psalms we read: “There is no peace in my bones because of my sin” (38:4). When a person has made peace within himself, he will be able to make peace in the whole world. Said Rabbi Abraham Kook: The spirit cannot find its stability except in a life oriented toward God. Knowledge, feeling, the imagination and the will, in their inner and outer manifestations, all condition people to center their lives in God. Then they will be able to find their fulfillment, their equitable and satisfying state. If a person should seek for himself less than this exalted state, he will at once become like a ship tossed about at sea. Stormy waves, raging in opposite directions, will continually rob him of peace. He will be thrown from wave to wave, and he will be unable to find himself. If he should be able to immerse himself in some crude and vulgar preoccupation, he may succeed for a time in reducing the perspective of his life, and it will seem to him that he has finally found peace. But it will not take long for the spirit to break out of its imprisonment and the maddening agitation will begin to act in all its fury. The place where it may find peace is only in God. (Orot)

בָּרְכֵֽנוּ אָבִֽינוּ כֻּלָּֽנוּ כְּאֶחָד Bless us, our Father, all as one. Rabbi Yaakov Yosef of Polnoye said: Jews are likened in the Torah to sand (Gen. 32:12). Each particle of sand is distinct, and only through fire do they become fused into glass. Likewise the Israelites are usually divided among themselves, and only calamities unite them.

הַמְבָרֵךְ אֶת עַמּוֹ יִשְׂרָאֵל בַּשָּׁלוֹם Who blesses His people Israel with peace. Rabbi Naḥman of Bratslav used to pray: Lord and King of Peace, Who makes peace and creates all things: Help all of us that we may always hold fast to the attribute of peace, So that true and abundant peace prevail between man and man, between husband and wife, And no strife separate humankind even in thought. You make peace in Your heaven, You bring contrary elements together: Extend abundant peace to us and to the whole world, So that all discords be resolved in great love and peace, And with one mind, one heart, all come near to You and Your law in truth, And all form one union to do Your will with a whole heart. Lord of peace, bless us with peace. (Likkutei Tefillot, I:95)