When Shabbos Pleads Our Case

Beginning on Rosh Chodesh Elul 5786, R' Benny Goldsmith, a yungerman in Bais Medrash Govoha, began learning Rav Shimshon Pincus's sefer Nefesh Shimshon on Shabbos Kodesh.

The sefer transformed his Shabbos.

Practices he had observed for years suddenly took on new meaning. Shabbos was no longer simply a day on which he refrained from melachah, davened, and sat down to beautiful meals. R' Benny began to appreciate the extraordinary holiness of the day twenty-four precious hours of closeness to the Ribbono shel Olam.

As he discovered more and more of that beauty, one thought began bothering him: How many other Yidden were going through Shabbos, week after week, without experiencing what he was? He wished he could somehow share that light with others.

That year, Rosh Hashanah was approaching, and Rosh Hashanah would fall on Shabbos.

R' Benny had learned a powerful and sobering idea about such a year.

The Gemara says, "Any year in which the shofar is not sounded at its beginning will experience misfortune at its end," because the Satan was not confounded by the sound of the shofar (Rosh Hashanah 16b). Tosafos immediately qualifies this, saying that the Gemara cannot be referring to a year in which Rosh Hashanah legitimately falls on Shabbos. In that case, we are refraining from blowing the shofar because that itself is the halachah. Chazal decreed that outside the Beis Hamikdash, the shofar should not be blown on Shabbos lest someone carry it four amos in a reshus harabim while bringing it to an expert to learn how to blow.

But that leaves a fascinating question.

The shofar ordinarily plays such an extraordinary role on the Day of Judgment. The Gemara itself says that its sound confounds the Satan. What takes its place when Rosh Hashanah falls on Shabbos?

R' Benny encountered a remarkable answer in the writings of Rav Yaakov Ettlinger, the Aruch LaNer, in his Minchas Ani on Parshas Haazinu.

The Minchas Ani begins with a striking observation. There were years of extraordinary blessing in Jewish history whose Rosh Hashanah fell on Shabbos and years of extraordinary tragedy. He calculates that the forgiveness of the sin of the Eigel, the establishment of the Mishkan, and the year Klal Yisrael entered Eretz Yisrael were associated with a Rosh Hashanah on Shabbos. Yet, he also notes that the years of the destruction of both Batei Mikdash began with Rosh Hashanah on Shabbos.

How could the same phenomenon accompany both the greatest blessing and the greatest tragedy?

The Minchas Ani explains it with a penetrating mashal.

A minister in the king's service committed a serious offense. The king was furious and ordered that he be brought before the royal court for judgment.

Terrified, the minister began searching for influential advocates who could plead his case. But one after another refused. His crime was too serious. No one believed there was anything to say in his defense.

The minister returned home crushed and told his wife what had happened.

"Why are you so frightened?” she told him. “I am constantly in and out of the royal court. I have close connections there, including a dear friend within the palace itself. I will accompany you and plead your case before the king."

And so she did. When the day of judgment arrived, the minister's wife stood beside him and spoke on his behalf. Her words were accepted, and her husband emerged innocent.

Not long afterward, another royal minister committed a similarly serious offense. His friends urged him to find a powerful advocate.

But he laughed.

"Why should I worry? My friend was acquitted because his wife defended him. My wife also has connections in the king's palace. She will speak for me, and I too will be cleared."

There was, however, one enormous difference.

Nevertheless, when the day of judgment arrived, his wife faithfully accompanied him to the royal court and attempted to defend him.

But the moment she began to speak, the king noticed the wounds on her face.

"What happened to you?" the king demanded.

The woman trembled. She tried to invent an excuse that would protect her husband, but she could not explain the obvious.

Finally, someone standing nearby spoke up.

"Your Majesty, those are the wounds inflicted by the very husband whom she has come here to defend. This second minister is a cruel and angry man. He treats his wife terribly. In a fit of rage, he beat her so severely that the marks of his cruelty remain visible on her face."

The king became furious.

"You expect this woman to be your advocate?" he thundered. "After what you have done to her, her very presence is your greatest accusation!"

The minister was found guilty.

The Minchas Ani says that this is the secret of a Rosh Hashanah that falls on Shabbos.

Ordinarily, Klal Yisrael comes before Hashem on Rosh Hashanah carrying the great merit of the shofar. Through its blasts, the Satan is confounded, and the shofar rises as part of our defense.

But on Shabbos, there is no shofar. Instead, says the Minchas Ani, Shabbos herself comes before the King.

Chazal describe Shabbos as the bas zug — the special partner — of Klal Yisrael. The Midrash relates that Shabbos said before Hashem, "Every day has a partner, but I have none,” and Hashem answered, “Knesses Yisrael is your partner” (Bereishis Rabbah 11:8). Shabbos has a unique closeness to the Jewish People, as the Torah says, “Between Me and the Children of Israel it is an everlasting sign” (Shemos 31:17).

When Klal Yisrael honors Shabbos, treasures her, and guards her properly, Shabbos can stand before Hashem as our great advocate. Indeed, the Gemara says, “Whoever observes Shabbos according to its laws, even if he worshipped idolatry like the generation of Enosh, he is forgiven” (Shabbos 118b).

But, the Minchas Ani warns, what happens if the very Shabbos that comes to defend us bears the wounds of our neglect?

If Shabbos has been disregarded, compromised, or treated without the honor she deserves, how can she plead for us? Her very appearance before the Heavenly Court can become the prosecution.

That is why, explains the Minchas Ani, Rosh Hashanah on Shabbos can be associated with the greatest possible blessing — or, chas v'shalom, the opposite. Everything depends upon how Klal Yisrael treats the advocate who comes to plead its case.

That idea struck R' Benny deeply.

He was also shaken by more recent examples often noted in connection with this phenomenon. The year of the Tach v'Tat massacres began with a Rosh Hashanah on Shabbos. So did the Hebrew year in which 9/11 occurred. And most recently, Rosh Hashanah 5784 fell on Shabbos, just weeks before the terrible massacre of October 7.

The message felt intensely relevant.

If this coming Rosh Hashanah would be on Shabbos, perhaps there was something tangible he could do to help strengthen the very advocate that would stand before the Ribbono shel Olam on behalf of Klal Yisrael.

Perhaps he could help more Yidden discover what Nefesh Shimshon had given him.

And so, The Shabbos Rosh Hashanah Project was born.

R' Benny decided to launch an initiative centered around learning Nefesh Shimshon and strengthening appreciation for Shabbos. He mapped out the program, prepared a poster, had it professionally designed, and contacted a local paper, spending more than $500 to advertise the new initiative.

Next came the sefarim.

After shopping around, R' Benny found a store willing to sell him copies of Nefesh Shimshon for $25.50 each. He immediately ordered forty copies for the first group of participants.

There was only one problem.

Who was paying for all of this?

R' Benny didn't know.

The advertising, the sefarim, and the other expenses were quickly adding up. He had no sponsor and no organization standing behind him. But this was something he desperately wanted to do for Shabbos.

So R' Benny reached into his own savings and paid the bills himself.

That day, someone heard about The Shabbos Rosh Hashanah Project and offered to circulate the advertisement among a large group of friends and family members. R' Benny happily agreed.

The following day, another opportunity arose. A local distributor could place the poster in 170 shuls throughout Lakewood in time for Shabbos.

The price: another $500.

This time, R' Benny hesitated.

He had already spent far more than he had planned, and another $500 was simply beyond his budget. He discussed it with a friend.

"We have to be realistic," his friend cautioned him. "You can't just keep throwing money into this."

For a while, he went back and forth. Was this responsible? Had he already done enough? Perhaps he should simply be satisfied with what he had accomplished so far.

But something inside him would not let go.

I'm doing this for Shabbos, he thought. I'm doing this for Hashem. Somehow, Hashem will show me what to do.

The distributor needed a final answer by 5:00 Thursday afternoon if the posters were going to be hanging in 170 shuls by Friday morning.

The clock was ticking.

R' Benny still had no idea where the money would come from.

Then, just twenty minutes later, his phone rang.

A man from Brooklyn was on the line. R' Benny did not know him, but the man had seen the advertisement that had been circulated the previous day.

"I love initiatives that strengthen Shabbos," the caller told him. "From now on, whenever you need to purchase sefarim for this project, they're on me. I'll cover the cost."

R' Benny could hardly believe it.

The ongoing cost of the sefarim was suddenly taken care of.

To R' Benny, that was his answer.

He called the distributor and gave him the go-ahead. The posters for The Shabbos Rosh Hashanah Project would be placed in 170 shuls.

There was just one thing.

He still didn't have the $500 to pay for it.

Nevertheless, he committed to the expense.

Then, just moments later, R' Benny's phone rang again. This time, it was his grandmother.

She was not someone who generally jumped to sponsor projects like this, but this project touched something deeply personal.

"My mother was moser nefesh to keep Shabbos,” she told him. "If you're starting an initiative to strengthen Shabbos, I want to be part of it."

Then she told him how much she wanted to contribute.

$1,800.

R' Benny was stunned.

Between the advertising, the first order of sefarim, and the distribution, he had laid out approximately $2,000 of his own money. Now, not only were all future sefarim sponsored, but $1,800 of what he had already spent had just been returned to him.

He was left with only a few hundred dollars out of pocket.

Then came Monday morning.

R' Benny received a message from an unfamiliar number. The sender had heard about The Shabbos Rosh Hashanah Project and wanted to contribute as well. Another $200 arrived.

Almost every dollar R' Benny had taken from his savings to honor Shabbos had found its way back to him.

And the story did not end there.

What began with forty copies of Nefesh Shimshon continued to grow. The initiative has already reached hundreds of new participants, with more Yidden continuing to join and discover the beauty, holiness, and depth of Shabbos.

R' Benny had set out to spread the light of Shabbos without knowing how he would pay for it. Each time he took another step, another door opened.

First came a sponsor for the future sefarim. Then, within minutes of his committing to the additional advertising, came his grandmother's $1,800. Finally, virtually all his remaining out-of-pocket expenses found their way back to him.

R' Benny had begun with one simple desire: to help more Yidden discover the treasure he himself had found in Shabbos.

R' Benny wanted to do something for Shabbos. And Shabbos took care of him.