Preparing for Rosh Hashanah: 2 Halachot for the Month of Elul

As we move through Elul and prepare for the High Holidays, even small practices can help us approach the coming year with greater awareness and connection to Hashem. Today’s halachot focus on a special chapter of Tehillim associated with Elul and what to do when joining Selichot through a live broadcast.

2 Halachot a Day

Two daily halachot from Behalacha UveAggadah, based on the rulings of Maran Rabbi Ovadia Yosef, of blessed memory.

Which Chapter of Tehillim Is Recommended During Elul, and Why?

It is a beautiful custom to recite Psalm 27, “L’David Hashem Ori V’Yishi,” from the beginning of Elul until Simchat Torah, following the Shacharit prayer. The Chida wrote, “How good it is to say it throughout the entire year after prayer,” and this is also the custom among many Sephardic Jews.

Anyone who recites this psalm from the beginning of Elul until Simchat Torah is assured of spending his days and years in goodness and pleasantness and of being found deserving in judgment, receiving a good and peaceful life. Even if, Heaven forbid, a harsh decree has been issued against him, reciting it can nullify the decree and remove accusers and adversaries from him.

Can You Answer Amen to Selichot Heard on the Radio?

Someone reciting Selichot at home along with a live broadcast of Selichot on the radio or via satellite may answer “Amen,” “Yehei Shmei Rabba,” “Vaya’avor,” and similar responses, even if there is sometimes a slight delay in the broadcast. For that person, it is considered Selichot with a congregation.

However, if the Selichot broadcast is a recording rather than live, he does not fulfill his obligation through it and may not answer these responses.

Today’s Insight

On the night after Rosh Hashanah, huge crowds waited at a bus stop in Bnei Brak for the 402 line to Jerusalem. The buses that passed were completely full, and people waited for hours. Naturally, everyone was furious with the transportation company, which had promised to send additional buses.

At 1:30 in the morning, an empty bus arrived at the stop. It was line 318.

The driver asked the people what they were waiting for in the middle of the night. They explained that they were stranded and asked him to change the route number to 402 and take them to Jerusalem.

The driver apologized. How could they ask him to do such a thing? After all, he was a driver on line 318, headed to Rehovot. He could be fired from his job.

The passengers continued urging him until finally he agreed. He changed the route number to 402 and drove them to Jerusalem.

Throughout the ride, the passengers recited a Mi Sheberach for him, and one after another, they came over to wish him a good and sweet year.

Near the end of the trip, one passenger approached the driver and asked, “How did you really agree to change your route for us? You could be fired from your job tomorrow.”

The driver finally revealed the truth.

“The dispatcher asked one of the drivers to go to the group that had been waiting at the stop for hours. No one agreed, because everyone expected the anger and curses they would receive from passengers after such a nerve-racking delay. Who wants curses before the new year?

“Then I had an idea. I would display line 318 and arrive at the stop that way. Thanks to that, instead of curses, I earned enough blessings along the way to last me the whole year.”

What made the passengers so angry at the driver who never came, yet so grateful to the “volunteer” driver who eventually took them to Jerusalem?

The difference can be summed up in two words: We deserve.

When the bus schedule says that a bus is supposed to arrive at a certain time and it doesn’t show up, we become angry. They promised. We waited. It was supposed to come.

But when another driver arrives, someone we believe was never supposed to take us, and volunteers to bring us to our destination, we feel grateful. He didn’t owe us anything, yet he helped us.

The same idea can transform the way a person looks at life.

When a person understands that Hashem does not owe him anything—not a livelihood, children, a home, or any of the other blessings in his life—he begins to see what he has as a gift rather than something he is automatically entitled to receive.

When we recognize that everything we have is a gift from Hashem, gratitude can replace the feeling that life owes us something. Even when circumstances are painful or something precious is taken away, Heaven forbid, we can still recognize and appreciate the good we were privileged to receive.