During the Aseres Yemei Teshuva, we insert the following plea into our prayers:

זכרינו לחיים, מלך חפץ בחיים, וכתבינו בספר החיים למענך אלוקים חיים – Remember us for life, our King who desires to grant life, and inscribe us in the book of life, for Your sake.

זכרינו לחיים

We grow up learning about the “Books” of Life and Death, which are essentially the books that categorise one as righteous or evil. So how can we implore Hashem that זכרינו לחיים – that He should give seemingly give a biased judgment? It would seem a fairly simple evaluation; are we or are we not worthy? The judgment should be impartial, so what are we asking for?

One doesn’t transform into a tzaddik because they pray or ask for something; and this isn’t a plea despite our sins. This is a prayer for us to be found righteous. How does it work, if we don’t deserve it?

Being a tzaddik is multi-faceted. Our sages teaches that one can be righteous in certain aspects of their lives.

Does a Paralympian athlete not deserve a gold medal if there is an Olympic athlete who can perform better? No – because the lines are drawn between able-bodied and disabled athletes.

We say זכרינו לחיים – see us as people worthy of life, so treat us individually, separately, in our own category. Let our accomplishments be foremost in our own unique category.

If a child does their best, but fails a test, will the parent get angry? They shouldn’t. Disappointment should only be manifest when the child is capable of more.

מלך חפץ ביים

It’s impossible to be perfect, and no one can stand comparison to objective perfection – the Gemara says that even Avraham would wither in the face of this comparison. But Hashem is kind, and does not expect this of us.

A tzaddik is someone who does their best, which is entirely subjective. What we’re good at can be evaluated externally, and crumble in the face of analysis, or can be evaluated on a personal level – מלך חפץ ביים – that Hashem wants to and can find a way to judge us as being good in our own way.

למענך אלוקים חיים

Why should Hashem give us things we don’t necessarily deserve?

If a person is looking for a house, and the real estate agent asks for a million dollars, is there a problem handing it over? The agent is acting for you; of course there’s no problem!

Hashem has no problem giving us things that help us serve Him better – למענך אלוקים חיים – they’re free! We can ask Hashem for things to help us serve Him better even when we don’t deserve it.

During the Selichos, Rosh HaShana and Yom Kippur prayers, we regularly mention that Hashem is ותיק ועושה חסד – He is old, and kind.

We’re probably not paying enough attention when saying this, but this clearly sounds very odd. What is the intent of the prayer by labelling Hashem as “old”, and what effect does that on His kindness? My father explains with a parable.

If someone gets pulled over for speeding on a particular road, and the police officer is in a particularly good mood, perhaps a very good explanation about a family emergency or what have you, will get them off the hook.

But if the same person gets pulled over by the same cop the next day, will the same excuse work? Absolutely not.

Every year, we make the same promises, and make the same excuses. Hashem is ותיק, that same “old” judge as last time, and yet ועושה חסד – nonetheless, He will act kindly with us.

Avraham’s ultimate test was Akeidas Yitzchak, but the test runs much deeper than it appears at face value. It seems the basic difficulty was that he had to sacrifice his son, although Hashem had said that this very same son would be his heir, and the future of Avraham’s covenant.

The Ran explains that there is much more to it, and points out a major subtlety, that adds a whole new dimension into what was required of Avraham. Hashem says: קַח-נָא אֶת-בִּנְךָ אֶת-יְחִידְךָ אֲשֶׁר-אָהַבְתָּ, אֶת-יִצְחָק, וְלֶךְ-לְךָ, אֶל-אֶרֶץ הַמֹּרִיָּה; וְהַעֲלֵהוּ שָׁם, לְעֹלָה – Please take your son, your only son, whom you love, Yitzchak, and go, for yourself, to the land of Moriah, and sacrifice him,max a burnt offering. (22:2).

The Ran point out that Hashem said קַח-נָא – “please take”. This was a request. It was not a command, it was not an instruction; sacrificing his son was something Hashem desired, but did not demand. It is quite possible that if Avraham had refused, he would not have violated Hashem word, as Hashem had not issued an instruction.

This enhances our view of the difficulty this task posed. Hashem did not require it, and Avraham did not “need” to go through with it. It would just please Hashem were he to go through with it, it ideas his choice. He was not compelled to do it at all.

The Slonimer Rebbe adds a further subtle reference to the turmoil he faced. The pasuk says
that as Avraham approached the place, וַיִּשָּׂא אַבְרָהָם אֶת-עֵינָיו וַיַּרְא אֶת-הַמָּקוֹם–מֵרָחֹק – Avraham lifted his eyes, and saw הַמָּקוֹם from a distance. (22:4)

Classically, this means that he literally “saw the place”. But הַמָּקוֹם is also a name of Hashem – He is “The Place”, He is everywhere, the Omnipresent.

In this context, וַיִּשָּׂא אַבְרָהָם אֶת-עֵינָיו וַיַּרְא אֶת-הַמָּקוֹם–מֵרָחֹק means that Avraham looked around, and felt a distance between himself and Hashem. Avraham was doing what he felt he ought to do, when he knew that what he was doing did not feel right. It tore him apart – he’d spent his whole life fighting idol worship and sacrifice, and yet here he was, about to sacrifice his son, throwing away his entire future, and Hashem had not even demanded it. וַיַּרְא אֶת-הַמָּקוֹם–מֵרָחֹק – Avraham looked around, and felt a distance between himself and Hashem.

We read this on Rosh Hashana, and perhaps, apart from the obvious merit this story brings, perhaps we can also relate to this on a personal level. Things aren’t always clear cut what we have to do, what’s right. We don’t always “feel it”, but sometimes, we have to persevere with what we have to do, and we will come out better for having done so.

When the Torah discusses Shavuos, it says: וְהִקְרַבְתֶּם מִנְחָה חֲדָשָׁה לַה – You shall bring a new mincha offering to Hashem (23:16)

The Torah never refers explicitly to Shavuos or Rosh Hashana by their primary themes; Shavuos being the anniversary of receiving of the Torah and Rosh Hashana being the day of judgement. Why does the Torah overlook this?

The Kli Yakar explains that the answer for both is the same; learning Torah each day is a new experience, bringing a new understanding and deeper insight with it. A person cannot learn the Torah as a monotonous rote study with no freshness or renewal. It is incumbent upon each of us to feel each day as though this were the day we received the Torah at Sinai. Hashem did not see fit to call the day we receive the Torah one particular day a year; as each and every day we are able to receive the Torah from Sinai. Therefore the Torah limits the description of Shavuos to a day where “you shall bring a new mincha offering to Hashem” – because calling it the day we received the Torah is a disservice to the Torah and our responsibilities.

Similarly, Rosh Hashana described as a Yom Teruah – a day of blowing the Shofar. It is not called Judgment Day because we cannot feel as though we are held accountable for our choices and actions on just one day a year; as must though we could act as we pleased all year round, with intent to makes amends on Rosh Hashana. Not so. Rather, every day needs to contain the awareness and responsibility that our actions are scrutinized.

The Sforno gives an intriguing explanation for the absence of the mention of Matan Torah on Shavuos.

Matan Torah was not simply a stage on which the Bnei Yisrael received the Torah and were subsequently expected to follow its laws. Matan Torah was intended to be a stage where Klal Yisrael reached the zenith of spirituality, the absolute peak humanity was capable of reaching.

When Klal Yisrael clamoured for an idol, the Golden Calf, they made ultimate purity untenable. It was out of reach, lost. The first Luchos were lost forever, and with them the capabilities that we would never have an opportunity to achieve on our own. It is said that the first Luchos were literally unforgettable – no Torah would ever have been forgotten.

Matan Torah did not run not as expected, in effect we never had the complete Matan Torah, therefore the Torah cannot refer to Shavuos as “the day we received the Torah”.

On the kiddush of the festivals, we say the following:

דַּבֵּר אֶל בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וְאָמַרְתָּ אֲלֵהֶם מוֹעֲדֵי ה’ אֲשֶׁר תִּקְרְאוּ אֹתָם מִקְרָאֵי קֹדֶשׁ אֵלֶּה הֵם מוֹעֲדָי
שֵׁשֶׁת יָמִים תֵּעָשֶׂה מְלָאכָה וּבַיּוֹם הַשְּׁבִיעִי שַׁבַּת שַׁבָּתוֹן מִקְרָא קֹדֶשׁ כָּל מְלָאכָה לֹא תַעֲשׂוּ שַׁבָּת הִוא ה’ בְּכֹל מוֹשְׁבֹתֵיכֶם – Speak to the Children of Israel, and tell them these are the Festivals that they shall keep holy. For six days, work may be performed, but on the seventh day, it is a complete rest day, a holy occasion; you shall not perform any work. It is a Sabbath to the Lord in all your dwelling places. (23:2,3)

Why is Shabbos inserted into the middle of the Festivals?

The Vilna Gaon explains that on all the Festivals certain types of food related activity are permitted, whereas on Shabbos all melachos are forbidden. However on one Yom Tov no melacha is permitted – Yom Kippur – which is also known as שַׁבַּת שַׁבָּתוֹן – the same terminology that the Torah uses for a regular Shabbos. Thus the pasuk can be rendered:

שֵׁשֶׁת יָמִים תֵּעָשֶׂה מְלָאכָה – On six days melacha is permitted – the first and last days of Pesach (2), one day Shavuos (3), one day Rosh Hashana (4), one day Succos (5), one day Shmini Atzeres (6).
וּבַיּוֹם הַשְּׁבִיעִי שַׁבַּת שַׁבָּתוֹן מִקְרָא קֹדֶשׁ כָּל מְלָאכָה לֹא תַעֲשׂוּ
However the seventh is the holy of holiest – no melacha is permitted – Yom Kippur!