December 26, 2024

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Imagine—if you will—what the prevalent mood would be among our people if the message of Elul were taken seriously. Buying a new dress for Rosh Hashanah is commendable. Redressing wrongs committed during the year is even more commendable. Showing up at High Holy Day services in a new suit is laudable. Much more laudable is being well-suited to appear before God, in that an earnest attempt has been made to do some serious soul searching. Hopefully, the time will come when the following Yiddish phrases and words will serve as an impetus for us to show Hashem that Elul is more than a time to secure seats for High Holy Day services.

Ess fahrdreest mir (It causes me to take to heart): There is a story told about an Eastern European rabbi who would make an entry into a notebook each night. But rather than make a note of time well spent during the day, this rabbi would calculate the amount of time he wasted each day. It was as though this rabbi were saying to Hashem, “Ess fahrdreest mir vos ich hob heint ahvekgepahttered efsher a tzahnzik meenoot,” (It causes me to take to heart that today I probably wasted 20 minutes). The rabbi realized that time is finite and those 20 minutes he wasted could never be replaced.

Ich bin oiser zich (I’m beside myself): Forgiving others isn’t always easy. Forgiving oneself is usually out of the question. There are those who hold themselves to unattainable standards. Because they are mere mortals and far from perfect, they tend to be far less forgiving and understanding of themselves than they are of others. “Ich bin oiser zich voss ich hob im nisht mevakehr cholim gevven oon eetzt leegt ehr bahgrobben,” (I am beside myself for not having visited him when he was sick and now, he lies buried).

Fahrzorgt (apprehensive): Just as the 613 commandments are divided into “thou shalts” and “thou shalt nots,” so too, does regret encompass that which we did—but should not have done—as well as not having done that which we should have. Put differently, human sin can be categorized either as sins of commission or sins of omission. The month of Elul ought to be the time for regretting not lending a helping hand when we were able to do so, thereby causing unnecessary distress. In addition to making a list of what we did wrong over the last 12 months, we should make a list and be fahrzorgt of what we failed or neglected to do over the last 12 months.

Ich been im shooldik ah mechileh (I owe him a forgiveness): There are occasions when someone apologizes to you, yet you cannot grant forgiveness—in that, it was not you who was offended. A congregant once put his foot in his mouth by making an unwarranted comment to the rabbi at a ritual meeting. An uncomfortable silence ensued. The next day, the congregant came to the rabbi asking for forgiveness. The rabbi responded that he was unable to forgive because the comment cast the congregant in a bad light, not the rabbi. Had the congregant made a much-warranted comment to the rabbi, and come the next day to ask for forgiveness, yet the rabbi refused to forgive out of hurt feelings—hopefully, the rabbi would, in time, realize, “Ich been im shooldik ah mechileh.”

Ess toot mir lyde (I am sorry that …): Reminding yourself of what took place and feeling sorry because of it is far better than being reminded by someone else of what took place and feeling sorry because of it. In either case, you have good reason to exclaim, “Ess toot mir lyde.” For example, one can say, “Ess toot mir lyde voss ich bin im nisht menachem ovel geven,” (I’m sorry that I didn’t pay him a condolence call). On the other hand, this being an election year, it is exceptionally rare for someone to say, “Ess toot mir lyde voss ich hobb dem candidaht fahrsholten,” (I’m sorry that I cursed out that candidate).

With less than two weeks left to the month of Elul, the opportunity may very well present itself for us to express regret by saying, “Ess fahrdreest mir.” Hopefully, we will not be too hard on ourselves and exclaim, “Ich been oiser zich.” Rather than expending energy on being “fahrzorgt,” perhaps, we can find a way to remedy the situation. With proper reflection, there will be those who come to the conclusion, “Ich been im shooldik ah mechilah.” Most of all, may there be an increase of those who come to realize, “Ess toot mir lyde.” Should none of the above come to pass, we may have to wistfully conclude that for us this has been yet another elusive Elul.


Rabbi Shawn Zell has recently returned to New Jersey, after serving at a pulpit in Dallas. He possesses certification in teaching Yiddish. Rabbi Zell is the author of three books.

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