
You know those people who dream about how their wedding is going to look? They have built a blissful picture in their mind of every last detail: how their intro will sound; how they will bound into the ballroom and dance with their parents, rosh yeshiva, and then their friends; how they will be gracious, geshmak and full of life; how they will be hoisted on chairs and everyone will look at them adoringly…
I don’t have to go into the nitty-gritty details. You know what I mean.
Now, Moshe* was exactly that kind of chosson. He crossed off the days on his wedding clock one day at a time. He was so excited on the morning of his chasunah that after saying Modeh Ani and washing negel vasser, he began to dance a jig on his bed.
So, what happened at the chasunah? Moshe fasted on the day of his chasunah. After breaking his fast, he began to feel so woozy and unwell that he could barely dance at the wedding. They had to constantly sit him down and bring him water. He was so nauseous that poor Moshe couldn’t even appreciate the few hours that he had been so excitedly anticipating for so long.
Now, I want to ask you: Is Moshe married? Was the kiddushin chal even though he didn’t really perform much or even enjoy his own chasunah? Of course! He is married, and we all wish him a life of bliss.
No one would say that because the chasunah wasn’t what he had envisioned and because it wasn’t so geshmak, he isn’t married. Right?
The Seder of the Jewish Year = The Seder of a Person’s Young Life
We have just completed almost two months of elevated zemanim. First came Elul, then Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Sukkos, Shemini Atzeres and Simchas Torah, the most hallowed and elevated days of the year.
I once heard from Rav Shimshon Pincus that the whole seder of the Yomim Tovim is akin to the seder of a person’s young life. Pesach marks our birth. Just like a newborn baby must be extremely careful about what he or she eats because its system is still so fragile, we, too, must be extremely careful about only eating spiritual food that we can digest. That is why we are so careful about chometz on Pesach. At that young stage in our “lives,” any other “food” can be catastrophic.
Then comes Shavuos, our “bar mitzvah.” Just like a bar mitzvah bochur starts learning Torah earnestly at that age, so too, we, as a nation, received the Torah and became “bar mitzvah.”
Shavuos is followed by Elul and the first part of Tishrei, the preparation for our chasunah. Just like a bar mitzvah bochur shteigs and matures during the years between his bar mitzvah and chasunah, ultimately culminating in doing teshuvah and fasting as a chosson on the day of his chasunah, so too, we shteig during the period of Elul and Tishrei, culminating with doing teshuvah and fasting on Yom Kippur at the conclusion of the yemei teshuvah.
After we have done teshuvah, it is time for the chupah. That is Sukkos. On Sukkos, we sit under the sukkah’s canopy together with Hashem, together with the Shechinah, in “matrimony.”
Yet, that is still not the climax. The climax is Shemini Atzeres, when Hashem says, “Please, let’s just sit together. Let’s just be together, you and Me. Please, stay with Me for one more day.” That is the yichud, the peak, the zenith of what we have been working toward since Pesach.
Yes, we have just concluded this amazing journey that has culminated with our yichud, our unification with Hashem in the most sacred of bonds.
Now What?
The question is: Now what?
What do we do now? Yom Tov is over. We have a long, cold winter ahead of us, a leap year with an entire extra month of Adar. Yes, seven long months until Pesach. Do we just go back to the way life was before our “marriage”?
In our moshol with the chosson and kallah, what do they do after sheva brachos? Suddenly, they are no longer the focus. They go to their small apartment and begin to live a new life. They don’t return to their old life. That doesn’t mean that their daily schedule is that different.
The chosson may return to yeshiva and sit in the same place in the bais medrash where he sat before he was married. He may even learn the same masechta that he had been learning before.
The kallah may return to the same place of employment where she works from nine to five, just like she did before she was married. Still, it is a different life.
When Life Feels the Same But Is Different
Now, each of them has a true partner in life. They are living their lives together even as they go about many of the same things that they did before they were married.
We, too, have just finished the great chasunah that we had with Hashem. We have become bound with Hashem with an inseparable bond. As we return to “regular” life, we may sometimes feel that nothing has changed, that Simchas Torah was many months ago. It is difficult to believe that it was just a few days ago. The fact is, however, that the chasunah happened, and we are not the same people we were when Rosh Chodesh Elul arrived less than two months ago.
Is there any chosson in the world who has to be reminded that he is married? Do you know a chosson a few days or weeks after his wedding who might mistakenly head up to his bedroom in the dorm of Bais Medrash Govoah at night instead of heading to his apartment?
Do we have to remind him and tell him, “You are married!”?
Do you have to remind him, “You have a life partner. You have someone with whom you can talk, with whom you can share secrets and aspirations. You have someone who (hopefully) understands you”?
None of us should say that the Yomim Tovim are over and just flew away. When a chosson and kallah feel a bit stale, one of the things they might do is look at the pictures of their wedding to remind themselves of the wedding and refresh their memories of their feelings at the time.
Similarly, when we forget what things were like at our wedding with Hashem and the process that led to that wedding, we must remember how we danced with the Sefer Torah and the feelings we had at that time. We must think about the hallowed moments of Ne’ilah on Yom Kippur or tekias shofar on Rosh Hashanah. Those things will remind us that we are “still married.”
The Kiddushin Is Still Chal
Now, let’s say a person thinks, “I didn’t really have a special Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Sukkos or Simchas Torah.” Imagine if the person says, “I wasn’t really focused on Yom Kippur. I was so hungry and feeling so unwell that I just wanted it to be over.” Imagine if he says that he didn’t dance with enthusiasm on Simchas Torah. He just wasn’t in the mood.
Does that mean that the kiddushin with Hashem was not chal? No!
Rather, he is just like the chosson who felt lousy at his wedding. It doesn’t matter that the wedding wasn’t the picture-perfect dream that he had envisioned. It is still chal, and he can certainly start a new life and relationship together with his kallah, no different from the new life and relationship built by his friend who did enjoy his own chasunah.
The fact is that no matter how much we were or were not truly engaged and immersed in the Yomim Tovim, the Yomim Tovim are still chal in our neshamos and we have changed.
We are now “married” to Hashem. The kiddushin was chal.
Now, just as any chosson and kallah have to work on cultivating and improving their relationship and their understanding of each other, we can utilize this winter to build on that relationship, even as we return to many aspects of our previous lives.
Let us just remember: We are not the same.
We are married! You can’t forget that you are married, right?