Selichos, Boshes Hapanim, and Shivrei Lev

Topics

• Selichos Is a Return to Hashem
• “I Flee from You—to You”
• The Broken Heart
• Shame Itself Creates the Return
• The Tikkun Contained in Busha
• A Person Must See Himself as a Mishkan
• The Second Element of Selichos: A Shattered Heart
• Yissurim Are Not Only a Lesson
• A Life of Simplicity and Avodas Hashem
• “I Thank Hashem for This Condition”
• Will Suffering Produce Closeness or Bitterness?
• Three Foundations for Receiving Yissurim
• The Brokenhearted Are Nearer Than Angels
• Hashem Is Close to the Brokenhearted
• Life Does Not Have to Become Bitter
• The Arrow Follows Its Address
• A Lesson Postponed Is Not a Lesson Cancelled
• Why Chazal Called Yissurim Beloved
• Bringing the Broken Heart to Selichos
• The Blow That Reveals the Father
• A Transition Guided by Hashgachah
• Would Other Life Contradict Torah?

Transcript

## Selichos Is a Return to Hashem

The central avodah of Selichos is not merely to list individual aveiros. Detailed vidui has its place, and at the end we say *Ashamnu*. But the recurring language of Selichos is broader: we stand before Hashem as people who have sinned. The opening declares, *“Lecha Hashem hatzedakah, velanu boshes hapanim”*—righteousness belongs to You, Hashem, while shame belongs to us (Daniel 9:7).

Why is *busha* so central? Rabbeinu Yonah explains that when a person sins, he has, in some measure, forgotten Hashem. Had the awareness of *“Shivisi Hashem lenegdi tamid”* remained fully alive within him, he would not have acted as he did. The Rema therefore begins Shulchan Aruch by teaching that awareness of standing before the King immediately produces fear, submission, and shame (Rema, Orach Chaim 1:1).

Selichos restores that awareness. *“Kedalim ucherashim dafaknu delasecha”*—like the poor and destitute, we knock at Your door. We were distant; we were lost. Now we are knocking and saying: *Tatty, I am home.* We have no defense and no impressive argument. We come with shame. Yet that very shame proves that we once again recognize before Whom we stand.

## “I Flee from You—to You”

This illuminates the expression attributed to Rav Shlomo ibn Gabirol: *“Evrach mimcha eilecha”—I flee from You to You.* A person runs because he is ashamed. Deep inside, he cannot bear to face what he has done. But the moment he feels shame before Hashem, he has already returned to Hashem. The flight itself becomes the return: *evrach mimcha*—because I am ashamed before You; *eilecha*—and that shame places me once again in Your presence.

## The Broken Heart

Selichos contains another appeal as well: *“Rachmana d’anei letvirei liba, aneina; Rachmana d’anei lemachichei rucha, aneina.”* We ask Hashem to answer the brokenhearted and the crushed in spirit. This rests upon the promise, *“Karov Hashem lenishberei lev, ve’es dakei ruach yoshia”—Hashem is close to the brokenhearted and saves those crushed in spirit* (Tehillim 34:19).

Thus Selichos contains two movements. Through shame, a person returns to the awareness of *Shivisi Hashem*. Through his broken heart, he discovers that precisely in brokenness Hashem is near.

## Shame Itself Creates the Return

This point must be repeated because it defines the entire character of Selichos. Selichos is not primarily a catalogue of sins. It is the recognition: *We are people who sinned.* Therefore its introduction is, *“Lecha Hashem hatzedakah, velanu boshes hapanim”* (Daniel 9:7). We stand before Hashem with *busha*.

Rabbeinu Yonah teaches that an aveirah reflects a loss of inner awareness. A person may still speak religious words, but inwardly he has forgotten before Whom he stands. Shame reverses that distance. The shame says: I once again know that You are here. That is *Shivisi Hashem lenegdi tamid* (Tehillim 16:8), and that is why the Rema connects constant awareness of Hashem with fear, humility, and shame (Rema, Orach Chaim 1:1).

*Kedalim ucherashim dafaknu delasecha.* We were far away, but now we knock. Selichos means: *We are back.* We cannot explain ourselves. We cannot justify ourselves. We can only stand at the door ashamed. Yet that shame is not proof that we have been rejected. It is proof that we are standing before Hashem again.

## The Tikkun Contained in Busha

This also explains the teaching quoted from *Michtav MeEliyahu* regarding a sandek. A person who requires a tikkun in matters of *shmiras habris* may receive a tikkun through serving as sandek—not merely because of the honor of the role, but because of the shame he feels while occupying it. A sandek is compared to a mizbeach. A sincere person thinks: *Who am I to be treated as a mizbeach? Who am I to hold this child at such a holy moment?*

That shame is itself *lifnei Hashem*. It does not drive him away from holiness; it places him inside holiness. He feels unworthy, but precisely because he understands the greatness of the moment and before Whom he stands. The *busha* itself becomes part of the tikkun.

The same is true of Selichos. *Boshnu venichlamnu*—we are ashamed and humiliated. We fled because of shame, but the shame itself brings us back. *Evrach mimcha eilecha*: I run from You because I am ashamed, and through that very shame I return to You.

## A Person Must See Himself as a Mishkan

A Jew must understand that he is meant to be a dwelling place for the Shechinah. The Torah says, *“Ve’asu li Mikdash veshachanti besocham”—They shall make Me a Sanctuary, and I shall dwell among them* (Shemos 25:8). Chazal and the baalei mussar emphasize: not merely *within it*, but *within them*. A person himself must become a Mishkan.

Rav Yerucham taught that if a person possessed genuine inwardness, he would sometimes feel embarrassed to enter shul and begin davening after considering how he spent his day. He would think: *Look at the kind of day I lived. How can I now walk into the Beis HaMikdash and stand before Hashem?*

Yet here too, the shame is not the end of the relationship. When a person is ashamed, he instinctively runs away. The Maharal explains that shame creates distance. But before Hashem, that very shame proves recognition. I am ashamed because I know You are present. The awareness of shame is itself *Shivisi Hashem*. I run from You—and discover that I have run back to You.

## The Second Element of Selichos: A Shattered Heart

Selichos therefore speaks not only of *busha*, but also of brokenness: *“Rachmana d’anei letvirei liba, aneina; Rachmana d’anei lemachichei rucha, aneina.”* Hashem is close to the brokenhearted (Tehillim 34:19), and He dwells with the crushed and lowly in spirit (Yeshayahu 57:15).

These are related but distinct. Shame restores the awareness that I stand before Hashem. A broken heart opens the person to Hashem’s closeness. The question then becomes: what breaks the heart? What place do *yissurim*—suffering and struggle—occupy in a person’s avodah? If suffering is meant to teach, why must a tzaddik sometimes endure so much? Surely a tzaddik learns quickly. This question opens an entirely different dimension of *yissurim*: they do not merely teach a lesson; they can create closeness and deveikus.

## Yissurim Are Not Only a Lesson

A difficult question must be asked. If yissurim come only to teach a person, why must a tzaddik sometimes suffer so much? A tzaddik is a good student. He hears the smallest warning and immediately examines himself. He does not require years of repeated instruction before the lesson penetrates.

One possible answer is that perhaps the lesson has not yet taken root completely. Sometimes a person understands something intellectually, but it takes years of struggle before it becomes part of him. Yet *Michtav MeEliyahu* develops a deeper answer. Yissurim are not merely sent to correct a particular mistake. There are *yissurim shel ahavah*—sufferings of love (Berachos 5a). Their purpose is not only to communicate information. The suffering itself can bring a person into a deeper love of Hashem and a deeper deveikus.

## A Life of Simplicity and Avodas Hashem

I once saw this truth embodied in a person. Rav Yaakov Toledano, a talmid of Rav Shach, lived in France with a simplicity that recalled the home of the Chofetz Chaim. The shul was downstairs, and his family lived above it. There was no private entrance separating the house from the shul, and the building shared a simple bathroom. The yards were bare earth. Nothing was arranged for comfort or display.

But when one watched him daven, one saw a servant standing before his Master. There was awe, inwardness, and truth. Years later, after I was married, he developed ALS. A man who had once been so dynamic gradually lost the ability to control his body. When I visited him, he could no longer lift his own coffee; someone had to bring it to his mouth.

I began to cry. He looked at me and asked in Yiddish, *“Farvos veinstu? Why are you crying?”* I answered, “How can I not cry when I see what you are enduring?” His response changed my understanding of yissurim.

## “I Thank Hashem for This Condition”

Rav Yaakov Toledano told me that I had nothing to cry about. He then described a visit from his sister. Their father had been among the great rabbanim of Morocco, and the family had lived through the upheaval of a generation in which many children were removed from their traditional environment. His sister had drifted far from Torah observance.

When she saw him in his weakened condition, she said, “You sacrificed your entire life for Torah—and look what happened to you.”

He answered her, “Perhaps you will not understand what I am saying, but it is the truth. The love I feel for the Ribbono Shel Olam through this condition is something I could never have felt in any other way. Therefore, I thank Hashem for this condition.”

Certain stories are not merely stories. They reveal Torah. A person cannot manufacture such words for a speech. They must emerge from the deepest inward truth of a life saturated with Torah. He was saying that the suffering itself had brought him to a love and closeness that nothing else could have produced.

He then turned to me and said, “You should not cry.” Outwardly I stopped crying, but inwardly I cried a great deal. At that moment I understood the teaching of *Michtav MeEliyahu*: yissurim can create *hisbatlus* and deveikus.

## Will Suffering Produce Closeness or Bitterness?

Every person carries yissurim. For one it is family; for another, yeshivah; for another, parnassah or health. Everyone goes to sleep with something pressing upon him. The question is not whether a person will encounter pain. The question is what the pain will do to him. Will it bring him closer to Hashem, or will it make him bitter?

*Michtav MeEliyahu* gives three foundations through which yissurim can become a path to deveikus. Without these foundations, pain remains pain. With them, the same experience can draw the person toward Hashem.

## Three Foundations for Receiving Yissurim

The first foundation is complete belief in *hashgachah pratis*. Nothing is accidental—not the event, not the preparation that led to the event, and not the earlier preparation that created those circumstances. Every movement is governed by the Ribbono Shel Olam.

Try living through one day with this thought: *Ribbono Shel Olam, every step I take is from You.* The day becomes a different day. A person notices what he never noticed before. Even when something hurts, he can say: *This too is from You.*

The second foundation is that Hashem is right. It is not enough to admit that the event came from Him while inwardly thinking that He has treated me unfairly. The Torah says, *“Hatzur tamim pa’alo, ki chol derachav mishpat”—The Rock, His work is perfect, for all His ways are justice* (Devarim 32:4). His judgment is true.

The third foundation is that it is good. The experience is not only from Hashem and not only just; it is ultimately directed toward the person’s true good. These three recognitions—*it is from Hashem, Hashem is right, and it is good*—allow yissurim to become a source of deveikus.

This is not an abstract formula. Work on it in the moments when the pain is present. Say it when you lie awake at night. Every person has something that pushes and pulls at him. But through these three truths, a person can come to love Hashem from within the struggle itself.

## The Brokenhearted Are Nearer Than Angels

The Rokeach, in his discussion of Yom Kippur, cites a teaching that those with broken hearts are more beloved before HaKadosh Baruch Hu than the ministering angels. Angels may stand at immeasurable spiritual distances, but of the brokenhearted the pasuk says directly, *“Karov Hashem lenishberei lev”—Hashem is close to the brokenhearted* (Tehillim 34:19).

This returns us to Selichos. *“Rachmana d’anei letvirei liba, aneina.”* A shattered heart is not evidence that Hashem has abandoned the person. Properly received, it can become the very place where the person discovers how near Hashem is.

## Hashem Is Close to the Brokenhearted

The Rokeach describes the immeasurable distance between the ministering angels and HaKadosh Baruch Hu. We imagine that the malachim stand immediately beside Him, but the spiritual distances are beyond calculation. Yet concerning a broken human heart, the pasuk does not speak of distance at all. It says, *“Karov Hashem lenishberei lev”—Hashem is close to the brokenhearted* (Tehillim 34:19).

This is the meaning of *“Rachmana d’anei letvirei liba, aneina.”* Shame restores *Shivisi Hashem*; a broken heart creates closeness. We come to Selichos saying: *Ribbono Shel Olam, we were distant, but we have returned. We are ashamed, and we are broken. Precisely through that brokenness, we ask You to be near.*

## Life Does Not Have to Become Bitter

This work is difficult, but there is no alternative. A person who learns to view his life properly can live in a beautiful world. People often say that life is unbearable. Certainly people create problems, and pain is real. But emotionally, a person can learn to see goodness and to live positively.

The lesson must eventually be learned. If a person does not learn it through one family difficulty, it may return through a school problem. If not there, it may return through parnassah or health. The form changes, but the underlying avodah follows him.

A person once told the Chazon Ish that he wanted to leave Eretz Yisrael for America because of his difficulties. The Chazon Ish reportedly answered that in America he might not have those exact problems, but he would have his problems. Every arrow, he said, has an address written upon it.

Today we understand this through a guided missile. A person may run and hide, but once the target has been entered, the missile follows. So too, when Hashem sends a person an avodah, changing the scenery does not remove the address. The purpose is not to frighten the person, but to teach him: stop running from the lesson. Receive it, grow from it, and discover Hashem within it.

## The Arrow Follows Its Address

Modern technology gives us a vivid picture of *hashgachah pratis*. A guided missile is programmed with a target. The target may move, but the missile follows it. A person can run from one country to another and hide beneath a rock, but the address remains.

Every new technology can teach something about *yiras Shamayim*. A recording teaches that words spoken here can be heard far away and years later. A guided missile teaches that an arrow sent by Hashem carries an address. A person may run from Lakewood to America, Brazil, or anywhere else, but he cannot run away from the avodah Hashem has sent him.

## A Lesson Postponed Is Not a Lesson Cancelled

The baalei mussar offered a sharp mashal. A customer enters a restaurant and receives a piece of meat that is old and unpleasant. He refuses it. The waiter whispers, “My friend, eat it today. If you reject it, tomorrow they will grind it into pepper, and the next day they will place it into blintzes. Eventually you will eat it in another form.”

The lesson is obvious. If a person refuses to learn what his yissurim are teaching him now, the lesson does not disappear. It returns in another form. If he does not learn it in first grade, it reappears in second, third, or fourth grade. At some point, he must understand what Hashem wants from him.

This does not mean that every suffering can be decoded with certainty, nor that a person should confidently explain another person’s pain. It means that each individual must ask himself: *What growth is being demanded of me? Is this bringing me toward Hashem, or only making me angry?*

Receiving yissurim properly is difficult. Yet it is easier than refusing the lesson again and again. The purpose is that the experience should mature the person, deepen him, and bring him closer to the Ribbono Shel Olam.

## Why Chazal Called Yissurim Beloved

Once we understand that yissurim can create deveikus, the language of Chazal becomes more intelligible. The Gemara discusses *yissurim shel ahavah* and records that the sages regarded suffering as precious under certain conditions (Berachos 5a). Rav Yerucham asks: what could possibly be beloved about pain?

At first, one might answer that yissurim purchase Olam Haba. Olam Haba is beyond anything the eye has seen, and a wise businessman does not trade an eternal fortune for the temporary comforts of this world. If a moment of suffering brings immeasurable reward, the calculation is worthwhile.

But Rav Yerucham reveals a greater secret. Yissurim are not valuable only because of Olam Haba. Even within Olam Hazeh, there may be no greater pleasure than becoming attached to the purpose for which one was created. *Ashrecha baOlam Hazeh*—the happiness begins in this world.

The gedolim were not naïve people who failed to understand pain. They were the greatest businessmen. They understood value. They recognized that comfort without purpose is a poor transaction, while the difficulty that brings a person to his *tachlis* is a profitable investment.

A person naturally seeks pleasure. Rav Yerucham teaches that the deepest pleasure is not the removal of every difficulty. It is *deveikus batachlis*—being attached to the purpose of one’s existence. When yissurim lead to that attachment, they can become beloved not because pain itself is pleasant, but because of the closeness and life they produce.

## Bringing the Broken Heart to Selichos

This is the second dimension of Selichos. We come not only with humility and shame, but with *sheviras halev*. *Kedalim ucherashim dafaknu delasecha.* Ribbono Shel Olam, You know how broken I am. Other people may not see what takes place inside, but You know it completely.

Because of that brokenness, I speak to You. Because of it, I can live with *Shivisi Hashem* throughout the day. The yissurim that appear to distance me can become the reason I remain aware of You. When a person brings that broken heart to the Yom HaDin, it becomes a powerful source of closeness and hope.

## The Blow That Reveals the Father

A mashal is told of a father and son walking through a forest. The father warns the child, “Hold my hand. If you let go, you may become lost.” The child becomes distracted by a stream and the surrounding sights. Before long, he is alone.

He calls, “Tatty! Tatty!” but hears no answer. The noises of the forest frighten him, and he begins to cry. Suddenly he feels a sharp blow. He turns around and sees that it is his father, who has finally found him and is disciplining him.

The child cries out, “Tatty, I am so happy that you hit me—because now I know you are here.”

The mashal captures the inner consolation of yissurim. When a person feels lost in the world and cannot find Hashem, that absence is terrifying. But when the experience itself reveals that the Father is present, even the blow contains comfort. The suffering says: *You are not abandoned. Hashem is dealing with you. He is near.*

## A Transition Guided by Hashgachah

This thought led into another discussion. While preparing the pasuk connected to *Shivisi Hashem*, I received repeated phone calls and tried to protect the time needed for the shiur. A mashgiach with whom I regularly discuss *hashgachah pratis* called and said, “Perhaps the fact that I called now is itself hashgachah pratis.”

He then raised a public controversy concerning the possibility of life elsewhere in creation. That conversation became the source of the discussion that followed. The point was not entertainment. It was another opportunity to observe how Hashem directs a conversation and places a subject before a person at the moment it is meant to be addressed.

## Would Other Life Contradict Torah?

A recently published book had raised a controversy by asking whether the discovery of life elsewhere in the universe would conflict with Torah. The basic answer presented was that the existence of other created life would not, by itself, present a contradiction to Yiddishkeit. Hashem may create whatever worlds and beings He wills.

The discussion is not simple, however. Sefer HaIkkarim records a disagreement between its author and his rebbe concerning other worlds and forms of life. One position allowed for the existence of other creatures while questioning whether they would possess human *bechirah*. The precise text and parameters require careful study; this is not a subject for careless declarations.

Chazal themselves speak of Hashem traversing eighteen thousand worlds (Avodah Zarah 3b). Such statements do not automatically define the physical contents of those worlds, but they remind us that Torah never presents creation as limited by the smallness of human imagination.

The claim that man must be the only created being in the entire universe may itself arise from ego. The statement *“Bishvili nivra ha’olam”—The world was created for me* (Sanhedrin 37a) assigns responsibility and purpose to the individual; it does not necessarily authorize him to restrict what Hashem may have created beyond his knowledge.

The shiur paused here for Maariv, with the intention of returning afterward to the sources, the position of Sefer HaIkkarim, and the broader question. The discussion in this recording therefore remains introductory and incomplete.