By the time you read these words, it will probably be Rosh Chodesh Elul or later. Thus, the message should probably reflect the weightiness of this chodesh and the beginning of the preparation for the Yomim Noraim. The problem is that, at the time I am actually writing these words, we are still in the middle of the bein hazemanim vacation, and, truth be told, I am still having a difficult time transporting my mind and heart into the Elul atmosphere.

Therefore, I think it would be appropriate to present a lesson that I learned during bein hazemanim that has applications to Elul.

Those of us who live in very large, established frum communities such as Lakewood, Brooklyn, Monsey, and others enjoy what I call “the luxuries of frum life.” In these enclaves, although there are obviously many nuances, you can go days and even weeks interacting with, davening with, and even shopping with people who live lifestyles fairly similar to your own.

Yes, of course, there are differences, but the nature of these communities is that you daven with like-minded people, you learn with like-minded people, and you might even go to the local gym to exercise so that you can keep your blood pressure down by losing weight—with like-minded people.

Encountering Yidden Who Are Different While On Vacation

One of the times that we actually see, meet, and interact with others who are not exactly in the same orbit as we are is during bein hazemanim, when many of us get away. We suddenly encounter people who may be different from those we are accustomed to seeing in our large frum communities. You don’t even have to go far to meet them. You don’t have to travel to exotic or unusual vacation spots. You can meet them in places just a few hours from home—perhaps in Pennsylvania, maybe in upstate New York, or anywhere else along the Eastern Seaboard.

What happens? You walk into a shul or a makeshift shul and see other Yidden who have also come to daven. They may look a bit different from you. Their attire is often not the same. You would be horrified to come to shul in flip-flops or shorts, as some of them do, but at the same time, they are saying the same Krias Shema and davening the same Shemoneh Esrei. It soon becomes very clear that not only do they value davening b’tzibbur enough to come to Shacharis, Mincha and Maariv, but they also listen intently to a devar halacha between Mincha and Maariv, commenting and asking questions.

I remember going to a local non-Jewish chain supermarket to buy water, soda, fruits, and vegetables, and seeing Yidden I wouldn’t usually see in Lakewood shopping there. They were intently scanning the labels for kosher symbols.

I realized that, yes, they are, in many ways, different from me, but we are all sons of the same Father. They know that our Father wants us to keep kosher, and that is what we do.

No, I am not advocating saying, “Great, we are all one, and how you daven or in what attire you daven makes no difference.”

Of course it does! My point, however, is that we get to see people who don’t look like us serving the same Hashem as us, keeping the same Shabbos, and observing the same basic kashrus. In short, they are amisecha. In accordance with the Torah, they are our brothers.

Now, brothers can disagree over many things and many standards, but they are still brothers.

Together!

I remember that, a while back, my extended family got together for a simcha. My extended family is not all cut from the same cloth. Their standards of Yiddishkeit, styles of dress, and approaches to technology are quite diverse.

I remember spending that gathering thinking to myself, “Had my father, zichrono livrocha, been alive, he would have kvelled from seeing us interacting together. He would have been delighted and thought, ‘They are different, but they are all my children, and I am so happy that they are sticking together.’”

We may not eat all the same hashgachos. Some of what other Yidden do might be very troubling to me and even hurtful. But one thing is clear: They, too, are living their lives in America in 2026 with cognizance of Hashem’s presence.

No King Without a Nation

During Elul, in the famous Talmud Torah of Kelm, the mussar factory that produced so many of the primary mussar figures who transformed Klal Yisroel, the Alter of Kelm would post a sign in the bais medrash that read, “Ein Melech b’lo am — It is not possible to coronate the King, Hashem, without a nation to coronate Him.”

He explained that this teaches us that it is imperative to behave like a nation, as one, to engage in zikui harabbim, to be cognizant of the needs of our fellow Yidden, and to try to provide for them.

Part of the avodah of Elul and the Yomim Noraim is to realize that we cannot coronate Hashem as our King if He has no nation. When we are together and are helping each other—all those who are considered amisecha, even if they are not exactly like us—that is a manifestation of coronating the King. When we are a nation, together, all of us coronate the King. If we are only willing to coronate Him with those who are exactly like us, then we may be missing part of the malchus.

So, if we truly want to make Hashem the Melech and coronate Him during this upcoming Yomim Noraim, all of us—all the diverse segments of Am Yisroel—must try to better understand each other.

Diffusing an Explosive Topic

I don’t like to inadvertently wade into a minefield, and I hope that what I am about to say won’t be misunderstood. One of the hottest hot-button issues of our time is the issue of the draft in Eretz Yisroel, and I think it is important for both sides to attempt to understand the viewpoint of the other.

No, I am not referring to the judges and politicians who are not even part of amisecha and who are simply using this issue as a cudgel to beat us and as a political tool to spread hatred and divisiveness among Klal Yisroel. About them we say, “Ul’resha mah lecha lesaper chukecha…”

There is, however, a massive segment of the population, both in Eretz Yisroel and even in chutz la’aretz, that is making no attempt to understand each other, even while they disagree. We want them to understand two things: the value of Torah lishmah, limud haTorah, and intensive limud haTorah without anything else. We also want them to understand how the army, even under the best of circumstances, presents serious spiritual pitfalls, even the so-called “chareidi” divisions. I have personally spoken with bochurim who are in the army and I have heard this from them firsthand.

Understanding Each Other

On the other hand, if we want them to understand us, we must stop for a moment and think about their reality. These soldiers, both regular soldiers and reservists, have spent significant portions of the time since October 7th on the front lines. Their lives have been turned upside down. Their wives, children, mothers, and fathers have had to contend not only with their absence from home and the loss of income, but, even worse, with the gripping fear that there might be a knock on the door or a phone call that will change their lives forever.

So many have died. So many have been wounded. So many wives are sitting at home alone with their children while their husbands are in horribly dangerous places such as Gaza and Lebanon.

If we want them to understand us, we must also understand their reality, sympathize with them, be nosei b’ol with them, and have a deep sense of hakoras hatov for them, even while tenaciously holding our position that we cannot participate together with them and that we must listen to the gedolei Yisroel who guide us in these extremely weighty matters of spiritual life and death.

If, however, we are so busy with our own battle that we cannot feel for them and empathize with what they are going through, we are truly missing something fundamental.

As we enter Elul, let us at least look positively at all of amisecha, at all our brothers and sisters, because they are our brothers and sisters. No, that doesn’t mean relaxing our standards in any way. But just as I know that my father would have derived tremendous pleasure from watching the different generations in his own family get along with achdus, so too, our Father in Heaven, our Melech, will certainly look benevolently upon His nation this Yomim Noraim when He sees that we are at least trying to understand each other and stick together despite our very real differences.