Hashem’s Kindness, in These Days, at This Time    

Seven years into my rabbinical career, I accepted an offer to lead a tzibbur in Chicago that included friends I had made over my years of living there. My rebbi, Rav Elya Svei ztz”l, advised me to upgrade my Shabbos wardrobe to a frock, thereby establishing emotional distance between myself and my congregants; we were no longer to be just buddies.

The Rosh Yeshivah must have detected something in my reaction that hinted at misplaced satisfaction, ga’avah, or both, and remarked, “Ihr veist vos dos iz mechayev zei. Vos iz dos mechayev eich? [You know how this obligates them. How does it obligate you?]”

To be honest, that took all the geshmak out of anticipating my new attire. But it was classic Rav Elya; he insisted that every twist and turn in life (especially the good ones) carries a mandate to look inward and honestly ask oneself how this change affects one’s avodas Hashem and one’s obligations going forward. Every Philadelphia talmid has heard this mantra over and over, both from Rav Elya and ybdlch”t Rav Shmuel Kamenetsky. Vos iz dos mechayev eich?

This past Hoshana Rabbah, I was approached after Maariv by a new acquaintance with the following question. We’d been told the hostages in Gaza were about to be released. What kind of obligations would they face once they were freed?