Under His Staff

THE RAV.

There’s a satisfaction that comes with walking into shul a half hour before Kol Nidrei with an envelope heavy with money. You’ve been collecting since Elul began, 40 days ago, with repeated pleas to the kehillah to support their struggling peers before Yom Tov, but there’s nothing like a contemplation of mortality as Yom Kippur creeps in to really encourage that last push. And you’ve made it at last. You have enough to get the people who need it most through Succos.

Many rabbanim have lost faith in their congregations. You’re not one of them. You believe that, ultimately, the people around you will do the right thing. It’s what has kept you here for decades.

You have yet to be proven wrong.

You descend into the basement of the shul, where your office is, and put the money into the safe in the wall. It’ll be secure until after Yom Kippur.

Now, it’s time to return to the somber mood of the evening. It’s the month of Tishrei, when you elevate yourself before the King, only to remember that you are dust and ashes, that you’re struggling to survive for another year. You climb the stairs and into the shul itself, settling down in the men’s section with a bottle of water that your wife has sternly instructed you to finish before the fast begins.