September 29, 2024|כ"ו אלול ה' אלפים תשפ"ד Navigating the Ups and Downs of Spiritual Life By Rabbi Jonathan Muskat

As we approach Rosh Hashana and the start of a new year, some of us are filled with excitement, eager for the fresh opportunities that await. We're ready to improve our avodat Hashem, to strengthen our relationships, our temperament, and our work ethic. But for many, there’s a different feeling—a sense of dread when we hear the words "three-day Yom Tov." And not just one three-day Yom Tov, but three of them in the span of a month. Who’s more anxious: those of us in America, facing this challenge three times, or our friends in Israel, who usually celebrate just one day but now face a rare three-day challenge as well?

We know how it goes. On day one of a three-day Yom Tov, we are full of energy, adorned in our finest clothing, gathering for meals on china plates, surrounded by the beauty of family, community, and the spirit of the holiday. We share beautiful divrei Torah and melodious zemirot at our festive meals. But by the third day, we’re in casual attire, eating off plastic plates, hoping that the kids will play outside to give us some peace and quiet, and wondering when our guests will finally leave.

Some of us are excited, but others may be feeling sluggish and distant. Perhaps we’re not in the best frame of mind—feeling off in our relationship with God, or disconnected from our loved ones. Maybe we’re simply overwhelmed with the preparations for Yom Tov, the time off work, and the endless to-do lists. But that’s okay. It’s natural to feel this way.

In Parshat Vayeilech, the Torah presents a powerful message for us during these moments. The parsha opens with vayeilech Moshe, with Moshe going, but the Torah doesn’t exactly tell us where Moshe was going. The Ramban says that Moshe is going from tribe to tribe and from tent to tent in order to comfort them. He tells the Bnei Yisrael that his time is near, he can’t fight in battle anymore and God doesn’t allow him to enter Eretz Yisrael, but he encourages them to have faith and courage as they prepare to face the challenges ahead. Then the paragraph ends, marked by a samech in our chumashim. In the next paragraph, two events occur: First, Moshe turns to Yehoshua in front of all the people, telling him to stay strong and be courageous, for God will be with him. Immediately following this pep talk, in the very same paragraph, the Torah introduces the mitzvah of Hakhel, commanding that every seven years, all of Israel must gather together to hear the Torah.

At first glance, these two messages seem unrelated. But the fact that the Torah places them together in the same paragraph reveals a deeper connection. Bnei Yisrael are about to cross the Jordan River into a new, unfamiliar world. They are transitioning from the miraculous life of the desert to a natural existence in the Land of Israel, and Moshe, their guiding light, will no longer be with them.

We observe Hakhel during Sukkot, following the shemitta year. During shemitta, farming—the core profession of biblical Israel—stops, and unemployment skyrockets. What do the people do in this year of forced rest? The Ibn Ezra explains that they engage in Torah study. Shemitta is not only a miraculous year of survival without planting or harvesting but also a spiritually elevated time of deep Torah engagement. Hakhel marks the transition from this miraculous and spiritual year back to regular life.

Moshe's message to Yehoshua and the mitzvah of Hakhel share the same theme: when life feels uncertain and miracles seem distant, don’t give up. Stay the course. Even when the highs of spiritual moments fade—like the miraculous shemitta year—we must gather together, reconnect, and strengthen ourselves for the journey ahead.

This resonates deeply with us as we approach the Yamim Noraim. There are times in life when we feel God’s presence intensely—during Rosh Hashana, Yom Kippur, or moments of inspiration. But there are also times when we feel distant. And maybe now, for a variety of reasons, some of us are not feeling the inspiration of the hour. That’s okay. Life is cyclical, with ups and downs, moments of clarity and moments of confusion. The key is not to despair during the low points but to keep pushing forward—come to shul, be present with those around you—knowing that the highs will return.

Rav Wolbe, in his sefer Alei Shur, discusses the concept of ymei ahava and ymei sin-ah—literally, days of love and days of hate. It is completely natural to go through cycles in life, periods of confidence and joy followed by moments of anxiety and sluggishness. But when we’re struggling, we must hold on. We don’t give up on davening just because we can’t muster the kavana we wish for at this moment. We don’t give up on our relationships or our responsibilities because we’re feeling low. We push through, knowing that this, too, will pass.

Rabbi Frand gives a beautiful parable about being stuck on a plane next to an irritating passenger. When that passenger is snoring non-stop, you don’t look for the emergency exit and jump off the plane! You endure the discomfort, even for hours, because you know the flight will eventually land and your suffering will end. Similarly, when we’re feeling down spiritually, we must continue to show up, to do what we can, knowing that better days are ahead.

And when we’re feeling good—when we’re excited, when we feel a spiritual high—that is the time to push ourselves to do more. Rav Wolbe teaches that during those moments, we should strive to be mechadesh, to renew ourselves, by taking on something extra or doing something special. Don’t just coast through the good times—capitalize on them. If we successfully elevate ourselves during moments of inspiration, we will be able to extend the ymei ahava, those moments of spiritual connection.

As we stand on the threshold of the Yamim Noraim, now is the time to level up. In less than a week, we will recite the haunting piyyut of Unetaneh Tokef, reminding us of the solemnity of the day of judgment and the impact of teshuva, tefilla, and tzedakah. Now is the time to level up in these three areas. In teshuva, commit to something extra, something manageable, some concrete mitzvah to improve upon that will make a difference in your spiritual life. In tefilla, choose one part of davening where you can improve, where you can be more focused, more connected to God. And in tzedakah, consider giving just a little more than you did last year. 

If we all push ourselves just a little further—if we level up in our teshuva, tefilla, and tzedakah—we can extend those moments of spiritual vibrancy, those ymei ahava, not just for ourselves but for all of Klal Yisrael. With God’s help, we will enter this new year strengthened, uplifted, and ready for whatever comes next.