The King Is in the Field
Choosing Love Before the Shofar Blows
A Meditation for Elul
There is a well-known idea that the name Elul (אֱלוּל) serves as an acronym for the verse:
"Ani l’dodi v’dodi li" – "I am to my beloved, and my beloved is to me."
(Shir HaShirim 6:3)
This phrase, drawn from the Song of Songs, is not just poetic sentiment. It is a compass. A reminder that the month of Elul — the month leading up to Rosh HaShanah — is not merely about fear or repentance. It is about love.
And not a one-sided love, either — but a reciprocal relationship between God and the soul. “I am to my beloved” comes first — we initiate. But the promise is, “my beloved is to me” — God responds.
It’s common to say, “God helps those who help themselves.” And that’s true. But the Torah, and especially the Sages of the Talmud, take it even further.
The Help from Heaven
The Talmud teaches:
“One who comes to purify himself, they help him.
One who comes to defile himself, they allow him.”
(Yoma 38b)
One of the most important ideas in Jewish thought is that free will is real — not just as an ethical doctrine, but as a spiritual law of the universe. But it works like a muscle, not everyone has the same strength of will, the same tolerance for pain and struggle, the same reserves of resilience. But it is also not static. Like a muscle, it can be developed with workouts. Tests of the spirit, such as Abraham, Sarah and the rest of our ancestors have faced. It was those very struggles to become that made them, and us, the Jews, what we are. Great innovators, great contributors. Our best as a people was of course our first invention - that of Abraham and God's Unity, but of course the Jews are not the only descendants of Abraham, nor are we the only adherents to Monotheism.
Even so, our version of Monotheism is rooted in a communal, national experience, the event at Sinai. If there were over 600k men aged between 20-60, i.e. the standing army, then we can only imagine the count when we include the entire people.
This mass of humanity stood under a quaking mountain and collectively received prophecy. At least the first of the two commandments, and the only important ones, in a sense. God is One. Serve no other. If we can just remember those two, everything else will fall into place. And this experience, this "Burning Man" for the ages, that changed all of human history?
It was impossible to fake, and impossible to create in the imaginations of the Jews at a later period, any period.
University professors use a system called "peer review" when they publish. So do Talmudic Scholars, only the peer review suffered by and Rabbi who dares to publish novella is much harsher, and way more penetrating than any University - even Harvard. These days - especially Harvard. I have a feeling, that if these words are read in the year let's say... 2035, that Harvard will no longer exist, at least not as we know it. I base this on a verse at the beginning of Parshas Lech Lecha. Enough said.
There is a constant, often invisible cosmic battle between good and evil — not in a Hollywood sense, but in a soul sense. Every human being is, consciously or not, a participant. When we choose good — when we seek to grow, to purify, to repair — help arrives. Angels, forces, opportunities, sudden insights, mysterious kindnesses. You are not alone.
But if we turn the other way — if we seek corruption, escape, apathy — no help is given. We’re not punished on the spot. But we are left alone. And to be spiritually abandoned — to detach oneself from the King — is perhaps the greatest danger of all.
Who Is Your King?On Rosh HaShanah, the Shofar will be blown.
Its primal cry announces the arrival of the King of Kings, the Holy One, Blessed is He.
The question is not merely: Is there a King?
The deeper question is: Do we count ourselves among His people?
If we do — what does that mean for how we live?
How we speak?
How we act when no one is watching?
It’s true — we face challenges every day. We fall short.
But if you’ve made mistakes — do not fear! That’s what Yom Kippur is for.
Rosh HaShanah is not primarily a day of guilt — not even a day of confession. It is a day of trembling joy.
We are not afraid because we are guilty.
We tremble because we love.
The King — our Beloved — has returned. He is in the palace. We have an audience. He is listening. To stand before such Majesty, such Kindness, such absolute Truth — is overwhelming.
And so we celebrate. To speak of our sins in that moment would be to put our fear ahead of our love.
And our love is stronger.
We know — in our heart of hearts — that God is Just and Merciful. That the King is not here to crush us, but to lift us. To remind us of who we are. To crown Him, yes — but also to crown the soul He made in His image.
The King Is in the FieldThere is a saying from the early Chassidic masters, made famous by the Alter Rebbe, that during the month of Elul, “The King is in the field.”
The idea is this: Rosh HaShanah represents the moment the King sits upon His throne. The palace is guarded. The court is formal. The stakes are high.
But in Elul, the King has left the palace.
He walks among the people, in the fields, in the marketplaces, even in the quiet places we go to hide. He is unguarded. Approachable. Smiling. His face shines.
This means that the entire month of Elul is filled with a special light — a revelation of God’s nearness — that makes change possible.
The shofar is not blown yet as a mitzvah, but we sound it daily anyway, because we are practicing. Not the notes — the awakening. We are training the heart to rise.
The Talmud teaches that the shofar is the instrument of revelation — and that the revelation of the King is not just about information, but transformation. It begins now.
Don’t Miss the ProcessionSo here’s the image.
The Angels are escorting the King from His fieldwalk back to the palace. They pass through our lives, watching. Sometimes they linger. They are helping all who help themselves — all who show up to do even the smallest act of return.
If we’re awake — even half-awake — we might glimpse them. We might catch up with the procession. We might find ourselves, almost without realizing it, in the King’s retinue.
But if we’re asleep — distracted — self-absorbed — it may all pass by unnoticed. We might only wake up when the gates are already closing. And what should have been Days of Awe could become days of, “ohhh…”
Final Note: The Choice Is OursThis entire season boils down to a single truth:
“I have placed before you life and death…
Choose life.”
(Deut. 30:19)
God doesn’t command submission. He invites relationship.
The King is not a tyrant. He is a Beloved. A Teacher. A Guide.
But He is also a Judge — because He believes in your greatness.
So choose life. Choose love. Choose to return before the Shofar sounds — and find yourself already held in the arms of your Beloved.
There is a well-known idea that the name Elul (אֱלוּל) serves as an acronym for the verse:
"Ani l’dodi v’dodi li" – "I am to my beloved, and my beloved is to me."
(Shir HaShirim 6:3)
This phrase, drawn from the Song of Songs, is not just poetic sentiment. It is a compass. A reminder that the month of Elul — the month leading up to Rosh HaShanah — is not merely about fear or repentance. It is about love.
And not a one-sided love, either — but a reciprocal relationship between God and the soul. “I am to my beloved” comes first — we initiate. But the promise is, “my beloved is to me” — God responds.
It’s common to say, “God helps those who help themselves.” And that’s true. But the Torah, and especially the Sages of the Talmud, take it even further.
The Help from Heaven
The Talmud teaches:
“One who comes to purify himself, they help him.
One who comes to defile himself, they allow him.”
(Yoma 38b)
One of the most important ideas in Jewish thought is that free will is real — not just as an ethical doctrine, but as a spiritual law of the universe. But it works like a muscle, not everyone has the same strength of will, the same tolerance for pain and struggle, the same reserves of resilience. But it is also not static. Like a muscle, it can be developed with workouts. Tests of the spirit, such as Abraham, Sarah and the rest of our ancestors have faced. It was those very struggles to become that made them, and us, the Jews, what we are. Great innovators, great contributors. Our best as a people was of course our first invention - that of Abraham and God's Unity, but of course the Jews are not the only descendants of Abraham, nor are we the only adherents to Monotheism.
Even so, our version of Monotheism is rooted in a communal, national experience, the event at Sinai. If there were over 600k men aged between 20-60, i.e. the standing army, then we can only imagine the count when we include the entire people.
This mass of humanity stood under a quaking mountain and collectively received prophecy. At least the first of the two commandments, and the only important ones, in a sense. God is One. Serve no other. If we can just remember those two, everything else will fall into place. And this experience, this "Burning Man" for the ages, that changed all of human history?
It was impossible to fake, and impossible to create in the imaginations of the Jews at a later period, any period.
University professors use a system called "peer review" when they publish. So do Talmudic Scholars, only the peer review suffered by and Rabbi who dares to publish novella is much harsher, and way more penetrating than any University - even Harvard. These days - especially Harvard. I have a feeling, that if these words are read in the year let's say... 2035, that Harvard will no longer exist, at least not as we know it. I base this on a verse at the beginning of Parshas Lech Lecha. Enough said.
There is a constant, often invisible cosmic battle between good and evil — not in a Hollywood sense, but in a soul sense. Every human being is, consciously or not, a participant. When we choose good — when we seek to grow, to purify, to repair — help arrives. Angels, forces, opportunities, sudden insights, mysterious kindnesses. You are not alone.
But if we turn the other way — if we seek corruption, escape, apathy — no help is given. We’re not punished on the spot. But we are left alone. And to be spiritually abandoned — to detach oneself from the King — is perhaps the greatest danger of all.
Who Is Your King?On Rosh HaShanah, the Shofar will be blown.
Its primal cry announces the arrival of the King of Kings, the Holy One, Blessed is He.
The question is not merely: Is there a King?
The deeper question is: Do we count ourselves among His people?
If we do — what does that mean for how we live?
How we speak?
How we act when no one is watching?
It’s true — we face challenges every day. We fall short.
But if you’ve made mistakes — do not fear! That’s what Yom Kippur is for.
Rosh HaShanah is not primarily a day of guilt — not even a day of confession. It is a day of trembling joy.
We are not afraid because we are guilty.
We tremble because we love.
The King — our Beloved — has returned. He is in the palace. We have an audience. He is listening. To stand before such Majesty, such Kindness, such absolute Truth — is overwhelming.
And so we celebrate. To speak of our sins in that moment would be to put our fear ahead of our love.
And our love is stronger.
We know — in our heart of hearts — that God is Just and Merciful. That the King is not here to crush us, but to lift us. To remind us of who we are. To crown Him, yes — but also to crown the soul He made in His image.
The King Is in the FieldThere is a saying from the early Chassidic masters, made famous by the Alter Rebbe, that during the month of Elul, “The King is in the field.”
The idea is this: Rosh HaShanah represents the moment the King sits upon His throne. The palace is guarded. The court is formal. The stakes are high.
But in Elul, the King has left the palace.
He walks among the people, in the fields, in the marketplaces, even in the quiet places we go to hide. He is unguarded. Approachable. Smiling. His face shines.
This means that the entire month of Elul is filled with a special light — a revelation of God’s nearness — that makes change possible.
The shofar is not blown yet as a mitzvah, but we sound it daily anyway, because we are practicing. Not the notes — the awakening. We are training the heart to rise.
The Talmud teaches that the shofar is the instrument of revelation — and that the revelation of the King is not just about information, but transformation. It begins now.
Don’t Miss the ProcessionSo here’s the image.
The Angels are escorting the King from His fieldwalk back to the palace. They pass through our lives, watching. Sometimes they linger. They are helping all who help themselves — all who show up to do even the smallest act of return.
If we’re awake — even half-awake — we might glimpse them. We might catch up with the procession. We might find ourselves, almost without realizing it, in the King’s retinue.
But if we’re asleep — distracted — self-absorbed — it may all pass by unnoticed. We might only wake up when the gates are already closing. And what should have been Days of Awe could become days of, “ohhh…”
Final Note: The Choice Is OursThis entire season boils down to a single truth:
“I have placed before you life and death…
Choose life.”
(Deut. 30:19)
God doesn’t command submission. He invites relationship.
The King is not a tyrant. He is a Beloved. A Teacher. A Guide.
But He is also a Judge — because He believes in your greatness.
So choose life. Choose love. Choose to return before the Shofar sounds — and find yourself already held in the arms of your Beloved.