I’m sure it’s the same in many homes. The last few days before the school year begins, our children are abuzz gathering school supplies. Our kitchen table and floor are littered with highlighters, crayons, markers, notebooks, binders, sticky notes, hole punchers, glue, tape, staplers and staples, paper reinforcements, looseleafs and looseleaf paper – standard and college (kollel) ruled, subject dividers, whiteout, rulers, compasses, and many other things that we will probably never see again after the first week. But it adds excitement to going back to school, and that’s a good thing.

Almost all young children are excited to go back to school. Almost every child goes to school with determination and optimism that he/she will be successful this year and make his/her parents proud.

As the years go by, however, many children become more skeptical of their abilities. Based on their past struggles, they lose confidence and, simultaneously, excitement for school dissipates.

Many adults have a similar feeling during the month of Elul. “I’ve tried to change so many times, but I keep coming up short. Even the improvements I have made in my life are a drop in the bucket compared to how much work I still need to do to become a half decent person. So, what’s the use of even trying?”

I recently heard a lecture by Rabbi Daniel Kalish, beloved menahel of the Mesivta of Waterbury (Durham, Connecticut), in which he poignantly expressed a point that I have long felt.

Rabbi Kalish noted that he detests when people have a defeatist attitude.

Paraphrased from his words:

“When I play sports, I give it my all. I can’t stand it when a guy gets on the court, looks at the other team, and declares that his team has no chance.

“Get your team, rally the troops, and bring it. I’m very competitive and I hate it when people have a defeatist attitude. That’s how Hashem made me. I’m a fighter and I’m a competitor.

“Don’t tell me you don’t have a chance. This is your team. Dig deep and play hard; fight like a tiger.

“You win, you lose, who cares? I don’t mind losing. But the defeatist mentality bothers me.”

Rabbi Kalish compared this idea to an approach often espoused when it comes to spiritual matters, particularly regarding our observance of Tish’ah B’Av and Elul/t’shuvah. People often nostalgically wax poetic about the days of old when people knew how to cry on Tish’ah B’Av and feel fear of G-d during Elul. They talk about a time when the fish in the sea trembled when the month of Elul was ushered in. Then they add how today our efforts are woefully ineffective and pitifully minuscule and inconsequential compared to generations past.

“It is dumb to say about t’shuvah that we have no connection. That is stupid. That’s treif.

“In the Kinos of Tish’ah B’Av, we refer to a terribly tragic story when the Jews murdered Zechariah, a kohen and a Navi, in the Beis HaMikdash. They killed him because they didn’t want to hear his message.

“Well, when you say we have no connection to Tish’ah B’Av, you’re a murderer of the Navi.

“I promise you, that’s exactly what it is.

“We have a spiritual force inside us that energizes us to want to connect to the day and grow from it. But then we’re told that our observance of Tish’ah B’Av is pitiful; it kills our momentum. The Navi comes to connect us to the word of Hashem. When one extinguishes that fire, he’s destroying that effort. Saying that our Elul and Tish’ah B’Av aren’t good enough is analogous to killing the Navi.

“I’m not saying that we experience it in the full ways we should. But we are trying.

“People like to preach on Tish’ah B’Av that we cry because we don’t know what to cry about. Sometimes it’s said almost smugly, as if sticking it to us.

“I say to those people: Stop it! Sit down! What are you doing? What are you trying to accomplish?

“I say kinos for the person who tells everyone else that they cry because they don’t know what to cry about!

“You’ll tell me the S’fas Emes says it. But the S’fas Emes didn’t have a defeatist mentality. He didn’t mean it the way people say it today. He never meant to convey a feeling of we have no chance at really experiencing Tish’ah B’Av so let’s all just wing it.

Tish’ah B’Av is a force that you could plug into. There’s a moed called Tish’ah B’Av.

“Stop with the defeatist attitude! It’s not a good thing. It’s bad midos.

“Don’t say we can’t play because we don’t have a shot at winning. That’s not how healthy people live life.

“Whatever you’re doing, do it with all your energy and effort. Live that on the court. Live that in the way you interact with your wife and children. Live that way on Tish’ah B’Av and in Elul. It may sometimes be hard. That’s fine. But never allow yourself to have a defeatist attitude.”

Noted inspirational speaker Zig Ziglar quipped that “Ultimately, your attitude, not your aptitude, will determine your altitude.” This is undoubtedly true in spiritual matters, as well. We have to believe that our efforts are invaluable in heaven (and there are enough sources to corroborate that idea). First and foremost is the fact that the most prominent hint of Elul is that the very word Elul is an acronym for “Ani l’dodi v’dodi li – I am to my beloved and my beloved is to me.”

I don’t know of a greater expression of love. Elul must be viewed as a time of love, and that engaging in t’shuvah is a meaningful endeavor, treasured in heaven. That positive attitude is the starting point from which all else flows.

 *****

Lovingly dedicated in memory of my Uncle R’ Shmuel Kohn (Shmuel Chaim ben Rav Yaakov Meir), who was niftar suddenly this week. When we spoke, Uncle Shmuel would often comment to me about how much he enjoyed these articles.


 

Rabbi Dani Staum, LMSW, is a popular speaker, columnist, and author. He is a rebbe at Heichal HaTorah in Teaneck, NJ. and principal of Mesivta Orchos Yosher in Spring Valley, NY. Rabbi Staum is also a member of the administration of Camp Dora Golding. He can be reached at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. and at strivinghigher.com.