Starting Off Right: The Greatest Segulah for Success
(Adapted from a shmuess delivered by R' Naftoli Kopshitz shlita to the talmidim of his yeshivah at the beginning of Winter Zman 5785.)
The first day of the year possesses a unique power. It serves not merely as the beginning of the calendar year, but as a formative moment whose influence extends throughout the months that follow. For this reason, Chazal instituted various customs on Rosh Hashanah that function as auspicious signs for the coming year. This significance stems not only from the fact that Rosh Hashanah is the Day of Judgment, but also from the intrinsic power of the year’s beginning to shape and define all that follows.
Accordingly, the Shulchan Aruch (Orach Chaim 583) records the custom of eating foods that symbolize blessing and success. As the Gemara teaches, “Now that we have established that signs are significant, one should eat at the beginning of the year gourd, fenugreek, leek, beet, and dates.” Likewise, the Rema cites the Yerushalmi which states that one who sleeps at the beginning of the year will sleep throughout the year. Therefore, one should avoid unnecessary sleep on Rosh Hashanah so that his fortune not be dormant, for the entire year follows its beginning.
The Mishnah Berurah likewise emphasizes the need to be exceptionally careful on Rosh Hashanah to avoid anger, sadness, and all forms of negativity. Sweet foods are eaten so that the year should be sweet. Even nuts are customarily avoided because their numerical value alludes to sin. Certainly, one must be vigilant not to stumble in actual transgression, for nothing could be a more harmful omen than sin itself.
From all this we gain a profound appreciation for the power of a beginning. The “rosh”, the “beginning” possesses the ability to influence everything that follows it. While it is always possible for a person to begin anew and renew himself, the importance of the initial step remains unparalleled. The beginning establishes a direction whose impact is immense.
In this week’s parsha the Torah relates regarding the generation of the Tower of Bavel:
“They said one to another, ‘Come, let us make bricks and burn them thoroughly’... And they said, ‘Come, let us build for ourselves a city and a tower whose top reaches the heavens, and let us make a name for ourselves lest we be scattered across the earth.’”
One wonders why the Torah expends so many words describing the manufacture of the bricks. The essence of their sin was their rebellion against the Creator. What difference does it make whether the tower was built from bricks, stone, timber, or some other material?
Rabbi Yosef Chaim Sonnenfeld zt"l, offered a powerful explanation, later recorded in the sefer Orchos Chaim. When the President of Czechoslovakia visited Yerushalayim and discussed with him the alarming moral deterioration taking place throughout the world, particularly during the period between the two World Wars when many Jews abandoned the path of Torah, Rabbi Sonnenfeld explained that the root of this decline could be traced to the very attitude embodied by the generation of the Tower.
They sought to rebel against the Ribbono Shel Olam and therefore deliberately manufactured their own building materials rather than using the stones created by Hashem. They wished to create everything themselves, thereby denying their dependence upon the Creator. For the same reason they chose to build in a valley rather than atop a mountain. Although a mountain would have made the task easier, they did not want to make use of anything fashioned by Hashem.
Rabbi Sonnenfeld observed that modern civilization often fosters the same illusion. Technological and societal development can lead a person to imagine that he is self-sufficient, that he can manage independently without Divine assistance. From there, the road to heresy, moral decline, and spiritual degeneration is not far.
There is, however, another approach to understanding these pasukim.
The Tikkunei Zohar frequently states that “the companions would go out to the field,” referring to the sages who studied the hidden dimensions of Torah in the fields. The Vilna Gaon, commenting on this, directs us to the Gemara in Bava Metzia 85, which records an exchange between Rabbi Chanina and Rabbi Chiya.
Rabbi Chanina once declared that if Torah were ever chas veshalom forgotten from Yisrael, he possessed the ability to restore it through his profound analytical powers. Rabbi Chiya responded:
“I ensure that Torah will never be forgotten from Yisrael.”
He then described how he planted flax, fashioned nets, trapped deer, fed their meat to orphans, prepared parchment from their hides, wrote Sifrei Torah, taught children Chumash and Mishnah, and arranged for each student to teach another. Concerning this, Rebbi exclaimed: “How great are the deeds of Rabbi Chiya!”
At first glance, Rabbi Chiya's description seems puzzling. If his objective was to preserve Torah, why begin with planting flax? Why concern himself with every preliminary stage?
The answer is that Rabbi Chiya understood that enduring success depends upon sanctifying not merely the result, but the beginning itself.
The flax used to make the nets, the nets that captured the animals, the hides that became parchment, and ultimately the Torah written upon those parchments, all originated in holiness and were performed solely for the sake of Heaven. Rabbi Chiya wished to ensure that the very roots from which the Torah would emerge were imbued with sanctity.
This is why he did not simply purchase parchment from merchants. He personally oversaw every stage of its preparation, infusing each part of the process with holiness. Through this, he implanted within Torah a spiritual strength so powerful that it would never be forgotten from Yisrael.
For that which begins in holiness acquires a permanence that endures forever.
This may also explain the Vilna Gaon’s remark regarding the sages who studied in the fields. A building, even a Beis HaMedrash, might not have been established entirely for the sake of Heaven. Human motives can become mixed and imperfect. A field, however, remains untouched by such considerations. There the sages could engage in the deepest secrets of Torah in an atmosphere of complete purity.
Similarly, the Vilna Gaon is quoted as saying that if every material used in the construction of a Beis HaKnesses were prepared specifically for the sanctity of the Beis HaKnesses, and if every stage of the building process were performed with pure intentions, then the tefillos offered within its walls would attain an exceptional degree of sincerity and elevation.
In light of this principle, we may return to the generation of the Tower.
Just as there are forces of holiness in the world, so too there are corresponding forces of impurity. The holy recitation of Pesukei DeZimrah serves to remove spiritual impediments and clear the path for holiness. The generation of the Tower sought to draw strength from the opposite side. Therefore, they worked to ensure that every aspect of their undertaking, beginning with the very first brick, was dedicated to rebellion against Hashem.
“Come, let us make bricks” was not a construction detail. It was a declaration of ideology.
They wanted their enterprise to be rooted in defiance from its very inception. Their entire project was carefully prepared from the ground up in furtherance of their rebellion.
This sheds light upon the pasuk:
“And now nothing that they have planned to do will be withheld from them.”
Their undertaking possessed extraordinary power precisely because of the strength invested in its foundations. To thwart their plans, Hashem intervened by altering the very structure of human speech, confusing their languages and dispersing them across the earth.
If such power exists on the side of evil, how much greater is the power of holiness.
When a person begins a Torah endeavour, a mitzvah, or a spiritual undertaking with purity and sincerity, he draws extraordinary Heavenly assistance. To such a person the pasuk may be applied in the opposite sense:
“Nothing that they have planned to do will be withheld from them.”
Consistency: The Secret of Success
At the beginning of every zman, people arrive filled with lofty aspirations. They yearn to learn great quantities of Torah, to acquire wisdom, and to amass merits beyond number. The opening days are usually marked by enthusiasm and resolve.
Yet experience teaches that beginnings are easy; perseverance is difficult.
A person may embark upon a programme of learning Mishnayos and complete several masechtos with great success. Then he reaches a more difficult masechta, such as Shabbos, and suddenly encounters challenges. Even though his accomplishments are already remarkable, he begins to feel discouraged and eventually abandons the programme altogether.
The Chafetz Chaim offered a remarkable lesson based on the end of Parshas Noach and the beginning of Parshas Lech Lecha.
A distinguished Talmid Chacham once asked Rabbi Moshe Shapiro zt"l for practical guidance in avodas Hashem. Rabbi Shapiro replied by sharing this insight from the Chafetz Chaim.
At the conclusion of Parshas Noach, the Torah tells us that Terach departed from Ur Kasdim with the intention of traveling to the Land of Canaan. Yet he stopped in Charan and settled there. He never completed the journey.
At the beginning of Parshas Lech Lecha, however, the Torah states regarding Avraham:
“They went out to go to the land of Canaan, and they came to the land of Canaan.”
Avraham set out to reach Canaan and indeed arrived there.
In these two journeys lies a profound lesson.
One may become a disciple of Terach or a disciple of Avraham.
Terach possessed noble aspirations. He wished to leave behind a corrupt environment and journey toward a holier destination. Yet somewhere along the way obstacles arose, momentum was lost, and the journey ended prematurely.
Avraham encountered challenges as well. Yet once he had resolved to travel to Canaan, no difficulty diverted him from his objective. He persevered until he reached his destination.
The lesson for us is clear.
When a person undertakes a worthwhile resolution or formulates a thoughtful plan for growth, he must remain faithful to it. He should not alter course merely because new difficulties arise or because the Yetzer Hara convinces him that his original decision was misguided.
Very often, such thoughts are nothing more than tactics designed to weaken determination and sever consistency.
If a person awakens late one morning, he should not conclude that the day is already lost and that he may as well begin again tomorrow. The Yetzer Hara waits for precisely such moments, because once consistency is interrupted, the entire structure is endangered.
Similarly, when one encounters a difficult passage in learning, he should not abandon his seder because he is presently unable to understand it. He should continue learning, make note of the issue, and return to it later.
The difficulty must be postponed; the commitment must remain intact.
For abandoning consistency is the beginning of spiritual decline.
One who seeks success must cultivate steadfastness and determination, remaining loyal to his commitments regardless of obstacles.
As Maran Rav Shach zt"l was fond of saying:
“The stubborn person succeeds.”
The one who refuses to let distractions, setbacks, or the Yetzer Hara divert him from his path will ultimately succeed.
Rav Moshe Soloveitchik zt"l of Zurich maintained a fixed daily learning quota. Even after exhausting days of communal work, when he repeatedly nodded off over his Gemara, he refused to forgo his daily commitment.
Others advised him to rest and make up the learning the next day, but he disagreed. Breaking consistency, he explained, is one of the Yetzer Hara's greatest tactics. Better to learn less well than not learn at all.
May we merit tremendous hatzlachah in the coming winter zman, to remain steadfast in our commitments, acquire lasting kinyanim in Torah, and serve Hashem wholeheartedly. Amen.
