Dear Friends,
At the beginning of this week, Ahuva and I had the joy of traveling to Utah for the wedding of Noa and Jonah Rose, son of our dear friends Michael and Jill Rose. The wedding took place at La Caille in Sandy, just outside Salt Lake City—a spectacular setting surrounded by mountains, gardens and vineyards.
Standing there, I couldn’t help thinking about Tu B’Av, the 15th of Av, the end of Summer holiday which we had just celebrated. The Talmud describes how, on Tu B’Av, the young women of Jerusalem would go out into the vineyards, where matches were made and Jewish homes were born. How wonderfully appropriate, then, to celebrate a Jewish wedding in a vineyard—a new family taking root in a setting that has symbolized Jewish matchmaking for thousands of years.
But the image of the field and vineyard carries us even further.
We are now in the month of Elul, the month famously described by the Alter Rebbe with the metaphor of “the King in the field.” During the year, approaching a king requires entering the palace, passing through gates and securing permission. In Elul, the King comes out to the field, where everyone can approach Him, and He receives each person graciously and with a smiling countenance.
This week’s Torah portion, Ki Seitzei, begins: “When you go out to war against your enemies.”
Chassidus reads these words not only as describing a physical battlefield, but the battlefield within each of us—the lifelong struggle between our higher aspirations and the forces that pull us elsewhere. The Torah’s words are striking: Ki seitzei—when you go out. Don’t wait for the battle to come to you. Take the initiative. And when you do, the Torah promises, “Hashem your G-d will deliver him into your hand.”
But the deeper surprise comes next: “And you will see among the captives an eishes yefas to’ar—a beautiful woman.”
The Zohar explains that this “beautiful woman” represents the neshamah, the Divine soul. The Ohr HaChaim teaches that the soul remains pristinely innocent and beautiful; it is simply sometimes taken “captive”—buried beneath distractions, habits, ambitions and the noise of everyday life.
That gives the “King in the field” an intensely personal meaning.
Elul isn't only about finding G-d in the field. It is about finding ourselves there.
Somewhere underneath the person we have become through another busy year is the person we really are. The aspirations we postponed. The mitzvah we meant to begin. The relationship we intended to repair. The Jewish voice inside that perhaps became harder to hear.
Elul tells us: go looking for it.
Perhaps that is what made this week’s vineyard wedding especially poignant. A vineyard is a place where something is planted, cultivated and ultimately transformed into something far greater.
Tu B’Av reminds us that we can find another person in the vineyard. Elul reminds us that we can find the King in the field.
And Ki Seitzei reminds us that, sometimes, the most important person waiting to be rediscovered there is ourselves.
Good Shabbos and Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Ruvi New
