"Today is the birthday of the world; today all mankind is judged."
Rabbi Chaim Shmulevitz, the rosh yeshivah of the Mir yeshivah, used to tell the following story in his drashos. During the Six Day War in 1967, he was sitting in the air raid shelter of the Mir Yeshivah in Jerusalem, at the time of the frightening, ear-shattering bombings by the Jordanians, and everyone was saying Tehillim. Suddenly his ear caught the words of a lonely and broken woman who had been deserted by her husband more than ten years before.
She was praying aloud, and the Rabbi could hear her saying: "Master of the Universe, I completely forgive my husband for all the sorrow, disgrace and pain that he has caused me all these years. May You please also forgive all the sins of those who are sitting in this air raid shelter, just as I forgive my husband with all my heart!"
Rabbi Chaim Shmulevitz concluded, "If the people in that air raid shelter were spared from death and saved from those bombs that were falling everywhere, I am sure that it was in the merit of that woman, who was willing to forgive her husband for his terrible crime against her. Her righteous action tilted the scales in our favor!"
That poor woman in the air-raid shelter was brave enough to forgive her cruel husband in spite of his despicable actions. This should be an example of us to have the courage to forgive our spouses for their mistakes, and should inspire us to strive never to lose our tempers.
The Talmud tells the following story. There was a righteous man who had given a coin to a poor person on the eve of Rosh Hashanah during a year of drought. This made his wife angry and she scolded him. In reaction, he went and slept in a cemetery.
Why would a person want to sleep in a cemetery? What does his giving a coin to the poor person and his wife becoming angry have to do with his going to a cemetery? Why do our Sages tell us that this all happened on the eve of Rosh Hashanah?
Rabbi Yisrael Salanter explains, in his book, that the righteous man in the story felt deeply insulted by his wife's abusive remarks. Yet he wondered at how he could be so easily insulted when he knew that a person should welcome insults as a form of atonement for his many sins. And so he haughtiness. He realized that he could only have taken offence at these unkind remarks because he had excessive pride in his self-worth.
The fact that this incident occurred on the eve of Rosh Hashanah frightened him, since he knew very well that this was the time of year when a person should be completely without sin, so as to receive a favorable judgement on the High Holy Days. Thus he concluded that only drastic action on his part could insure that he be judge favorably and inscribed in the Book of Life.
Hence, he decided to sleep in the cemetery, for he felt that being in such a humbling place would certainly help him to be able to subdue his arrogant feelings. He figured that when a person sees signs of death and feels the silence of the cemetery, he views things from a different perspective and is reminded of his place in the world. He understands that he has no right to be arrogant, since he sees very clearly what will eventually become of him. A person in a cemetery comes to understand that he will return to the substance from which he originated - the dust of the earth.
We can learn several lessons from this interpretation of the words of our sages. First, we can see how the Day of Judgement was completely real and alive in the mind of this righteous man. It was not an abstract idea, but rather something very concrete and awesome which required immediate attention. This feeling is certainly lacking in our times, where we walk around peacefully in the days before Rosh Hashanah, and do not experience the fear and anticipation which we should be feeling before such a tremendous day.
This interpretation also suggests the proper response we should have to a spouse's anger. In such a case you should strive not to feel hurt at all, because feeling hurt testifies to our own arrogance. Taking offence at the lack of respect given us indicates that we consider ourselves to be overly important. Generally speaking, a person can only consider another person's harsh words a personal affront, if he himself feels that this undermines his importance and self-worth.
Clearly feeling that we are due the unswaying respect of others is not the way the Torah wants us to think about ourselves. Who is greater that David, the King of Israel? And yet he said about himself, "And I am a worm, not a man." If a person thinks about his many sins, he will acknowledge that he really deserves much worse treatment than he receives. When he begins to sincerely think of all his shortcomings, this will cause any hurt or arrogant feelings he may have to vanish.
The famous Rabbi Yitzchak Blazer was greatly admired by his students. On Simchas Torah they used to lift him on their shoulders and dance with him. One of his students once noticed him murmuring something to himself on such an occasion and moved closer to listen. "Carry the dead animal!" he overheard. The student understood that Rabbi Blazer was afraid that some arrogant feelings might be creeping into his mind, and so he reminded himself of his shortcomings to circumvent such pernicious thoughts.
Additionally, being angry with your wife shows a lack of gratitude. When a husband honestly considers his wife's immense efforts to help him in life, he will not be able to feel anger. This is comparable to a situation where a person gave you a massive amount of money and then scolded you. The deep gratitude that you would feel in your heart would outweigh any ill feelings that you might otherwise have had towards that person. "Let him scold me," you would think. "After what he gave me, he can say whatever he wants!"
That is how we should feel about our wives. When we think of all they do for us we should come to feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude which will cancel out any feelings of anger. We should also be aware of the fact that someone who lacks gratitude is, by choosing to do so, falling short in the observance of one of the most basic principles of Judaism.
The deeper purpose of the blessings we say and many of our mitzvos is to show our gratitude towards G-d. The Talmud shows us how far our gratitude must go, "Do not throw a stone into a well that you once drank from." If we are obligated to feel gratitude even to inanimate objects like a well, how much more so must we be grateful to human beings, and how much more so to our wives, who are closer and dearer to us than anyone else in the world.
If you make a list of all the things your spouse does for you each day, you will soon see how numerous and important these little acts of loving kindness really are. Every action done for you deserves gratitude. You must strive to make this feeling of gratitude a part of you, and then you will be able to transform any anger you might feel towards your wife into feelings of humility and forgiveness instead.
Your anger damages both your relationship with your wife and your standing in Heaven. Make sure that it never takes control over you, because if it does it can easily ruin you life.
Speak to the children of Israel, saying, "In the seventh month, on the first day of the month, shall you have a Sabbath, a memorial of blowing of horns, a holy gathering."
Rabbi Eliyahu Lopian lived in the city of Kelm. When the size of his family grew it became obvious that they needed to rent a larger apartment, and so he searched for something that would meet their needs. At the time apartments were very scarce, and only after great effort was he successful in finding something suitable. At long last he came to an agreement with the landlord and prepared his family for the move.
Moving day came, and Rabbi Lopian and his family loaded all their furniture and belongings onto a wagon. When they arrived at the new apartment, they met a man who addressed the rabbi angrily, saying, "You should know, Reb Eliyahu, that my daughter is getting married soon. I have searched the whole town and have not found a single apartment except for this one. Alas, you beat me to it and have grabbed the apartment away from me. But you should know that if you take this apartment I will have to postpone the wedding."
When Rabbi Lopian's family heard what he had to say, they began to argue with him and berate him for his chutzpah, claiming that his apartment was suitable for a large family and not a newly married couple. Also, they pointed out they had already made an agreement with the landlord to rent the apartment, so he had no right to come along and complain. Rabbi Lopian listened to the argument between the two sides and did not say a thing. However, after a few minutes he turned to the driver of the wagon and told him: "Please do not unload the wagon. We are going back to our old apartment."
Rabbi Lopian could have easily justified his position to the man, but decided to be silent and give in. This should be the way we act in marriage where being silent and not reacting harshly can save a person from great aggravation.
"In the seventh month." Rabbi Berechya used to call the seventh month the month of vowing [in Hebrew the word seven and vowing have the same letters.] In this month G-d took an oath to Avraham, in response to Avraham's "vow." G-d said, "I vow in My name." Although Avraham offering his son to G-d was a great act, why was there cause to compare it to G-d's vowing? Rabbi Bivei the Great said in the name of Rabbi Yochanan: "Avraham said before G-d: O, Lord, it is well known to you that at the time when You said to me: 'Please take your son [to be sacrificed], I had in mind to point out to you that just yesterday you told me: 'Through Yitzchak will descendents be called yours' and now You say to me: 'Take you son.' So, just as I had in mind to refute you, yet I overcame my yetzer and did not do so; so too should it be that, when the son of Ya'akov will sin, You will overcome Your anger by remembering for them the binding of Yitzchak, their father, upon the altar. Have pity upon them and deal with them not with the attribute of judgement, but rather with the attribute of mercy. And when will you judge them in this favorable way? In the seventh month."
What does the sacrifice of Yitzchak have to do with Hashem taking the vow? Why was it not sufficient for G-d to say He would remember the merit of the sacrifice of Yitzchak, but rather made a point of vowing to this effect? What is the connection between what Avraham had in mind at the time of the sacrifice of Yitzchak and what G-d has in mind on Rosh Hashanah? Why should G-d change a person's judgement because of Avraham's intentions at the time of the akeidah?
Our Sages in this midrash are telling us that the akeidah alone, out of all the righteous deeds of our forefathers, had the strength of a vow. So, it was for this act alone that G-d would be prepared to take an oath. Elsewhere, G-d was reluctant to do so, because making a vow entails an obligation which leaves no choice but to act according to His vow.
Thus, to illustrate the tremendous value of the akeidah, our Sages felt it was not enough to simply say that in its merit the Jewish people would be saved ever Rosh Hashanah. Rather, they compared it to the power of a vow, to make us understand how great was the act of the akeidah.
Since Avraham understood that he had accumulated great merit through this action, he wanted to use it for the benefit of the Jewish people when they needed it most. The time of their greatest need is on Rosh Hashanah, since they are being judged for life or death. On that day the stakes are so high that if we lose, we lose everything. And so we must have something that will turn the scales of judgement in our favor. Only the akeidah has that power, and hence Avraham utilized it for that purpose.
To appreciate how G-d could change His judgement of a person because of Avraham's intention at the time of the akeidah, we must first understand the concept of merit. Spiritual merit in some ways is similar to credit at a bank. Even though a person's account might be overdrawn, the bank will treat him leniently because of good standing. That is same way spiritual merit works. Since we have good standing because of the righteous deeds of our forefathers, we are given credit in Heaven. This is true even though we do not clearly deserve Divine mercy due to our own shortcomings. Fortunately for us, we can draw from the merit G-d sees in the deeds of our forefathers.
The greatness of the akeidah was not only that Avraham was willing to sacrifice his only son, but also that he showed incredible self-control by not complaining of the injustice that was being done to him when he was asked to make this sacrifice. That is what the midrash means when it says in the name of Avraham: I had in mind to say to You, "Yesterday You told me, 'Through Yitzchak will descendents be called yours', and now You say to me, 'Take your son.' "
Here the midrash is showing how great a merit there is when one musters the courage not to answer back even when he has a burning desire to do so. This achievement is so great that it has protected the Jewish people on every Rosh Hashanah for thousands of years and will continue to do so. This teaches us how much we have to gain if we can emulate Avraham's fortitude and not answer back, even though we may have every right in the world to do so.
There is probably no relationship in which one is more tempted to answer back than that of a husband and a wife. People are full of contradictions. One day the wife says she is going on a diet, and the next day she is eating chocolate. The husband says he is going to come home early, and then he comes back later than usual. We can always find something to remark upon to show our spouses how self-contradictory they are, and what we have to say is often justified. But criticizing is easy. What takes courage is to keep our mouths shut. Every critical remark causes bad feelings between a couple and can harm the warm relationship that should always prevail.
One of our Sages tells us, "All my life I have lived among wise men, and I have not found a better thing for the body than keeping silent." This is quite an amazing remark. For the Sage lived among wise men, and he undoubtedly heard a great deal of advice in his lifetime. And yet he tells us this special piece of advice, that such a simple thing as silence can solve many of life's problems.
If we reflect on it, we might understand that the reason silence is so precious is that it keeps us out of all the trouble we might cause by saying the wrong thing. And when we speak in anger we are bound to say things which are going to hurt our spouse, and later we will certainly regret what we said. And so it is much wiser to keep silent in the first place.
No matter how much you want to answer back, don't do it. If you feel you are bursting at the seams, take a walk and calm down. But don't let off steam at your spouse. Your relationship with your spouse is one of the most valuable things you have in the world, and you must be very careful not to damage it by saying the wrong thing.
There is no better time to start having the courage to refrain from making an emotional outburst than on Rosh Hashanah. This is the very day when we benefit from Avraham's restraining himself from speaking out what he wanted to say to G-d. In his merit we receive abundant Divine mercy and if we try to emulate his righteous behavior, then our merit will be even greater. Certainly, all of us need as much help as we can get on the Day of Judgement.