Selichot – The Last Minute Rush
Before the King had a chance to react, the handyman threw himself at the King's feet, and said, "Your Majesty, what can I say, how can I justify myself?
“What can we say, how can we justify ourselves?” (“Lecho Hashem Hatzdaka,” first Slichot prayer, said daily after Ashrei and Half Kaddish).
Rebbe Nachman of Breslev teaches (Likutei Moharan I:9) that when a person utters words in truth, Hashem illuminates that person with His Divine Presence.
The biggest liar is one who lies to himself. To avoid the pitfalls of fooling ourselves, we should make honest, cogent self-evaluation and soul-searching a high-priority of our daily routine, especially during this period of Selichot. When we compare our actual actions to the Torah’s requirements, we come up lacking. Western society teaches a person to hide his or her shortcomings; the Torah teaches the opposite. If we’re smart, we’ll turn to Hashem, lower our heads, and cry, “What can we say, how can we justify ourselves?” Rather than being punished, our souls will receive the reward of Hashem’s illumination for telling the truth.
With Hashem’s loving grace, the following parable will help us understand both ourselves and the phrase at hand from the Selichot liturgy:
The King desired to build a vacation home far away from the Palace on a distant shore – a haven of blue sky, golden sands, soft sea breezes, and temperate seasons. A royal proclamation invited interested builders to submit their tenders within thirty days.
The well-known contractors shied away from the royal project. They had no desire to spend months thousands of kilometers away from the Palatial City on a deserted island. Therefore, a poor handyman with no more than a hammer, a saw, and a small bag of nails landed the job, for no one else submitted a proposal.
The King was undismayed. He trusted the poor handyman, and gave him a ship loaded with the finest building materials – wood, marble, metal, and cement. The King’s sailors packed the hold from top to bottom with an entire year’s supply of food, clothes, utensils, temporary shelter, and every other amenity and necessity that the handyman might need in order to perform his task. The handyman agreed to complete the project of building the King’s vacation home within twelve months.
Following a lengthy voyage at sea, the ship finally reached the King’s vacation island. Other than a great expanse of sand and beautiful beach, there wasn’t much on the island except for clumps of coconut palms and monkeys. The sailors unloaded the cargo and set the handyman on shore. They told him that they’d return in exactly twelve months to take him home.
For the first week, the handyman devoted all of his time to setting up his own tent and household. The King gave him the best flour, dried fruit and nuts, preserved foods, and plenty of wine. Subsequently, the handyman would spend an hour or two a day laying the foundations for the King’s vacation home, and spend the rest of the day attending to his own needs and pleasures – baking bread, sunbathing on the beach, and drinking wine.
By the time eleven months had transpired, the handyman had only completed the foundations, the frame, and a portion of the roof. Even working around the clock, he’d need several more months to complete the job. With no choice, he threw away the wine, baked no more bread, and ate nothing but dried nuts and raisins. Barely sleeping, he rose before sunup to begin working; his hammer and saw wouldn’t rest until after sunset.
At the end of the year, the royal ship approached the island, with the King on board. When the Monarch came ashore, he found a house with no doors or windows, and debris all over the place, despite the handyman’s last-minute rush. Monkeys pranced from room to unfinished room. Before the King had a chance to react, the handyman threw himself at the King’s feet, and said, “Your Majesty, what can I say, how can I justify myself? Your Majesty sent me here with all my needs, but I pursued my own bodily gratifications rather than devoting myself to completing the royal vacation home. Please forgive me! Please give me another year to complete this task. I’ll do my best not to disappoint Your Majesty!”
The handyman’s candor saved his life, converting the King’s potential anger to mercy and compassion. The Monarch granted the handyman another year – with all his needs provided – to complete the task.
The King in the parable is Hashem. We are the handyman. Hashem gives us our needs for the entire year in order to “build his home” on a “faraway island,” in other words, to learn Torah and perform mitzvot in order to create a worthy sanctuary for the Divine Presence in this lowly material world. But, rather than doing the King’s bidding, we use our heaven-sent supplies – our health and livelihood – for our own gratification rather than for the glory of Hashem, the King. When Elul arrives, we make a last-minute rush to say Selichot early in the morning and to complete whatever teshuva we can, but our hearts are still far from being a worthy sanctuary for the King of Kings. With Rosh Hashanah just around the corner, we see that we’re far from finishing our task, so we beg for another year.
Selichot means forgiveness. By honestly requesting Hashem’s forgiveness for our shortcomings – by tearfully lifting our eyes to the Heavens and admitting, “What can we say, how can we justify ourselves?” Hashem forgives us and blesses us with an additional year of health and prosperity, Amen.
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