In his final address to the Jewish people, Moshe Rabbeinu stands before the entire nation and proclaims: “Atem nitzavim hayom kulchem—You are all standing here today, all of you, before Hashem” (Devarim 29:10).
But he doesn’t stop there. He continues with a cryptic addition. “Not only with you, who are here today, is G-d making a covenant. So too with those who are not here.”
Who are these unseen participants in Moshe’s covenant?
The mystical sources explain that “hayom” refers to Rosh Hashanah, the Day of Judgment. On this day, we do not stand alone. We are joined by the souls of our parents, grandparents, and ancestors, who stand beside us in judgment. The neshamos in the Olam HaEmes, the World of Truth, are spiritually present, shoulder to shoulder with us, davening and pleading for our future.
The Gemara (Rosh Hashanah 32b) records a remarkable exchange between the angels and Hashem. “Why,” ask the angels, “do the Jewish people not recite Hallel on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur?” “Is it possible,” Hashem answers, “that the King is sitting on the Throne of Judgment, with the Books of Life and Death open before Him, and Am Yisrael should sing joyous praises?”
The Chasam Sofer offers a deeper layer of interpretation.
When Chazal say, “The Books of Life and Books of Death are open before Hashem,” the “Books of Life” refer to the machzorim, siddurim, and Tehillim that we, the living, pour our hearts into during these holy days. But the “Books of the Dead,” the Sifrei Meisim, refer to the heavenly machzorim of our ancestors. Their souls are also davening on Rosh Hashanah. They are not passive onlookers, but active advocates.
With this, we can understand something profound.
We do not say Hallel on Rosh Hashanah because, as the Pasuk in Tehillim (115:17), says, “Lo ha’meisim yehallelu Kah—The dead cannot praise Hashem.” Since our ancestors are present with us, and they cannot sing Hallel, we too refrain, out of solidarity and reverence for their presence.
There is a moving story about the Chasam Sofer and his son, the Ksav Sofer.
When the Ksav Sofer was just two years old, he became gravely ill and the doctors had lost all hope. The Chevra Kadisha even lit candles beside him. But that night, the Chasam Sofer locked himself in a room and davened with tears until dawn. In the morning, he emerged and said to his wife, “I secured him another 50 years of life.” And indeed, the Ksav Sofer lived to age 52.
Years later, when the Ksav Sofer was 24, the Chasam Sofer became ill. On his deathbed, he turned to his son and said, “I appoint you as my successor.” The young man was terrified. Replacing the great Chasam Sofer was a monumental burden. But his father reassured him. “Don’t be afraid. Your grandfather, Rav Akiva Eiger, will be on your right. Your other grandfather on your left. Above you will be an angel. And I, your father, will be behind you. You are not alone.”
With those words, the Chasam Sofer returned his soul to its Maker. That year, on Shabbos Shuvah, the newly appointed Ksav Sofer prepared to deliver his first public drasha, but nothing came to him. He sat the entire night with a blank page, eventually falling asleep in despair.
In a dream, his father appeared to him. “Why are you so upset?” “Because,” the Ksav Sofer said, “everyone will be judging me based on this first speech, and I have nothing to say.” The Chasam Sofer smiled. “Then I will give you a speech.”
That Shabbos, the Ksav Sofer delivered a brilliant drasha, with people coming up to him afterward and praising him. “That sounded like a toldah, a derivative, of the Chasam Sofer,” playing on the double entendre of Av and Toldah, Father and Son, Primary Act and Derivative, as associated with the prohibited laws of Shabbos.
The Ksav Sofer pithily remarked, “No, it was not a toldah; it was an Av Melachah.”
On Rosh Hashanah, the Sifrei Chayim and Sifrei Meisim are open. When we visit the kever of a tzaddik, when we learn their Torah, when we emulate their ways, we are not merely honoring them. We awaken them, and they in turn, become our advocates in Heaven.
When we daven with our ancestors beside us, in the courtroom Above, it becomes not just one generation speaking, but an entire nation of neshamos pleading together.
So stand tall. Stand with dignity. Because this Shabbos, when we say “Atem nitzavim hayom kulchem,” and reflect upon the upcoming days of Rosh Hashanah, we mean all of us. The living. The departed. The entire Am Yisrael, past and present, standing firm together before the King.
