Posted on 10/01/24
Every year I struggle to find just the right words to introduce the initiation of Selichos on Motzei Shabbos prior to Rosh Hashana, which hopefully will set the tone for the elevated days ahead through Yom Kippur.
Especially intriguing to me is the opening of the main Selicha we recite responsively, במוצאי מנוחה קדמנוך תחילה — As [the day of] rest departs we precede before you first.
Why the emphasis on it being after the day of rest, and not simply post-Shabbos?
The next phrase seems redundant. קדם — to precede, is synonymous with תחילה — first.
Wouldn't simply stating that on Motzei Shabbos קדמנוך — we have preceded before you, been sufficient?
We mention our coming before G-d, תחילה — 'first'.
First to whom?
Have we arrived before G-d? Are we referring to another nation that came after us in second place?
The Maggid of Koznitz observes that we only start the Motzei Shabbos immediately prior to Rosh Hashana if Rosh Hashana falls out on Thursday and Friday. If it falls on Monday and Tuesday, we start on the previous Motzei Shabbos. The reason for this, he suggests, is that we must have a full representation of the six days of creation, which took place on the 25th of Elul and culminated on Erev Shabbos — the 1st of Tishrei, with the creation of Adam on Erev Shabbos. From the Sunday through and including the two days of Rosh Hashana — when it falls on Wednesday and Thursday, we have it. But when it falls out on Monday and Tuesday, we are forced to have a set of 'six days' of creation represented in the previous week.
Why is this commemoration so critical?
Reb Tzadok HaKohen in his treatise on Shabbos presents a novel angle on our notion of Shabbos.
He begins by noting that the Torah when instructing us to observe Shabbos it is invariably preceded by the phrase 'six days shall you work'. Why, he asks, is there seemingly an imperative to work? Can't we celebrate Shabbos as a special time even if we have chosen not to work during the week?
The work the Torah speaks about, Reb Tzadok clarifies, is not technical labor. It refers to man's constant effort to promote the honor of Heaven in whatever activities we are destined to be engaged in. At the end of the all-consuming 'workweek' of עבודת השם — Service to G-d we are to sit back and reflect and celebrate with joy, the privilege we have in connecting to G-d. It deserves a day of rejoicing, a יום טוב — reveling in that role.
We often get so wrapped up in the details and struggles of the duty, that we forget about the enormous, good fortune we possess.
In a recent article a woman shares a powerful interaction she had on her return flight to Israel.
After spending time visiting her grandparents in Florida this frum woman found herself sitting next to Tamar, a young Israeli expat secular Jew who now lived in Florida and was traveling to visit her family in Israel.
During their subsequent friendly conversation, Tamar shared that she was non-observant and lacking in our traditional belief of G-d, a consequence of her having been born to Baalei Teshuva parents who divorced when she was just five, finding herself growing up on a moshav, and leading a totally secular lifestyle. Though she admitted she did acknowledge an acceptance of a higher power.
They shmoozed for hours eventually dozing off.
The sun's rays began to seep in stirring the passengers to awaken.
The religious seatmate pulled out her well-worn Siddur to daven. Tamar who was familiar with religion asks her friend if she is davening, to which she replied in the affirmative. Tamar shares that she too prays every day as she wakes up. She opens her phone and displays her screen revealing a lengthy document entitled HaTodah Shel Tamar — Tamar's Thanks. "Thank You for my health — physical and mental. Thank You for my friends… family… job…" The list was long, comprising many blessings.
The frum woman looked at her Siddur that she prepared — and in her own words — 'to mumble through the entire davening concluding with Aleinu at the finish line."
She suddenly felt so small, realizing how in her daily routine she may have recited all the words but neglect to connect consciously with G-d, as Tamar exquisitely did in utter simplicity with a heartfelt bond with a G-d she humbly alleged she didn't know.
After that eye-opener the frum woman prayed with great reverence, aware that each word was a gem.
Tamar's eyes were fixed on her screen, praying in a whisper with a belief she herself was unaware of.
As they landed, Tamar expressed her interest in staying in touch. They exchanged numbers, with Tamar excitedly adding that she would love to join her newfound friend in attending Selichos at the Kosel on the upcoming Saturday night!
The writer concludes her account with a pointed question — "Which one of us is the real believer?" (Ami Living Issue 667 Tamar's Thanks - Leah Chinmann)
We begin in earnest our journey of Teshuva on the night of Selichos. Having just experienced Shabbos, celebrating the previous 'six days of creation', regaling in our having invested time and energy in our quest to represent the will of G-d in all our endeavors. On this day of מנוחה — calm, that permits us to slow down the pace of our busied lives of devotion, and count and reflect on the numerous blessings showered upon us by G-d that enables us to serve him — our hearts fill with a sense of pride.
When Motzei Shabbos arrives, it is often accompanied by a sense of melancholy. As we head into a new set of 'six days of creation' we lapse into automatic pilot mode, returning to dutiful but often mindless and emotionless devotion.
If only we could integrate that excitement we experience over Shabbos — in the spirit of Reb Tzadok's directive — to remain mindfully grateful amidst the drudgery of daily responsibilities, sensing awareness of G-d's admiring presence in every deed we perform in His honor, we would see in each word of prayer a brilliant gem; every word of Torah learned an exalted dance with G-d; each step we take in fulfilling His will an entry into the parlor of the King.
We arrive on the first night of Selichos and declare קדמנוך! — not 'I have preceded You', but rather I place You foremost in my mind. The acknowledgment of Your presence will precede and set the tone for all that I engage in.
No longer will I plod through my days half-conscious and distracted, I will excite my every action with the knowledge and thrill of Your accompaniment.
בתחילה — I will 'start anew' with a fresh beginning towards reframing the ensuing 'six days of creation' as if every stride I take is as exciting as if I am walking in the streets of Jerusalem on my way to recite Selichos at the Kosel!
We state in the blessing of Zichronos, זה היום תחילת מעשיך — This day is the start of Your handiwork, זכרון ליום ראשון —a remembrance of the first day.
The simple understanding of this sentence is the noting of Rosh Hashana as the anniversary of the creation of Adam, which according to one opinion took place on the 1st of Tishrei.
Perhaps though there is a deeper sentiment being expressed.
This day is תחילת מעשיך — a new initiative to start afresh by infusing all our actions, with a זכרון ליום ראשון — an awareness of that initial enthusiasm Adam exhibited on the first day of his coming into existence!
בברכת כתיבה וחתימה טובה
באהבה,
צבי יהודה טייכמאן