26 Aug ELUL; I AM TO MY BELOVED, AND MY BELOVED IS MINE.

The month of Elul
is characterized by
the pasuk from Shir
HaShirim: “I am my
beloved’s, and my
beloved is mine.”
But is this verse
only symbolic
because its initials spell “Elul,” or is there
a deeper meaning intended?
Rabbi Leib Mintzberg (Ben Melech, Shir
HaShirim, essay four) explained how the
relationship between us and the Creator is
expressed in the Torah mainly in three
forms: servant, son, and spouse, each
essentially different from the other. Let us
attempt to clarify each one.
Master and servant:
The servant–master relationship is such
that the master commands, and the
servant fulfills without emotion and
without understanding. His entire essence
is to do what the master has commanded
and no more. Thus, the Sages described
the servant as lazy, since all his actions
are solely for his master’s sake, and he
gains nothing for himself. In the Gemara
(Kiddushin 49b) it is said: “Ten measures
of sleep descended to the world; nine
were taken by servants, and one by the
rest of the world.” This is because the
servant has no pleasure or benefit from
his work. Moreover, the servant has no
desire to know why the master
commanded what he commanded—his
only wish is to do what is imposed upon
him and then rest. His overall feeling is
fear of the master, lest he punish him.
Therefore, the servant feels no joy when
his master is pleased, only relief that he
has not been punished.
Father and son:
Unlike the servant, the son desires to
bring joy to his father. This comes from
the fact that while the servant’s essence is
to serve the master, in the father–son
relationship it is the father who serves the
son from birth until he matures, and only
when the son grows independent does he
have the opportunity to return joy to his
father. In truth, the father seeks nothing
from the son; his true satisfaction is in
seeing his son succeed and follow the
good path. That is, whereas the servant’s
deeds serve the master’s benefit, the
father desires that the son should benefit
himself, and in that the father rejoices.
From this, a great love is born between
father and son, as their souls are bound
together. The son senses that his father’s

intention is his good, and therefore he
seeks to give him joy in whatever way he
can. Moreover, the son also desires to
resemble his father, to learn his ways, and
to understand why his father acts as he
does and why he commands him in
certain matters.
Husband and wife:
This relationship is fundamentally
different from the previous two. It is a
union in which the couple become one, as
the Sages said: “A man’s wife is as his
own body,” and as the pasuk states: “Bone
of my bones, and flesh of my flesh,” and:
“Therefore a man shall cling to his wife,
and they shall become one flesh.”
Ramban explained: “The woman was
bone of his bones and flesh of his flesh,
and he clung to her…. and since this was
the case with Adam, this nature was
implanted in his offspring—that the men
among them should cling to their wives,
leaving father and mother and seeing
their wives as closer to them than their
parents.”
Since they are considered one, when one
does something for the other, it is not
truly for the other but for themselves—or
more precisely, for their unity. This
relationship is not merely about
understanding what the other wants, but
about feeling the other’s desire and
making it your own. Such a relationship
is built more on emotion than on intellect,
unlike the servant who acts because “this
is what I must do,” or the son who acts
because “this is the right thing to do.”
Rather, here in spouses’ relationship it is
“this is what I want to do.” As the Sages
said: “Who is a worthy wife? She who
does her husband’s will.” This does not
mean she has no will of her own, but
rather that each spouse acts for the sake of
the partnership, making all their desires
serve this union. Such a relationship frees
the act from a sense of duty and transforms
it into an act of longing and love. Whoever
wishes to learn about this type of love
should study Shir HaShirim, and its
intention will become clear.
The lesson:
Since there are multiple dimensions to
our relationship with the Creator, we find
different approaches to divine service,
usually aligned with each person’s
spiritual nature. All are beloved and all
are desirable by Hashem.
For example, Rabbi Mintzberg explained
that the Brisk yeshiva emphasized serving
primarily in the manner of the servant,

who carries out exactly what the Master
commanded without questions or
investigations as to why. They ask less
“why” (the reasons for mitzvot) and more
“what” (what and how must be done). Yet
this Brisk approach is not like the lazy
servant mentioned above, but rather like a
devoted and faithful servant, as it says of
Moshe Rabbenu (Devarim 34:5): “And
Moshe, the servant of Hashem”. The
pleasure to the Creator, as Rashi explains
(Num. 28:8) on “a fire-offering, a pleasing
aroma to Hashem,” is: “a satisfaction
before Me that I said and My will was
done.”
In contrast, the Chazon Ish served
Hashem as a son, as is evident from his
writings, in which he labored to explain
everything in ways accessible to the
heart’s understanding, just as a son seeks
to understand his father’s ways. This
approach emphasizes refining one’s
character and performing mitzvot to
improve oneself, for Hashem gains
nothing from mitzvot, only joy in seeing
His children become better, as it is said
(Bereishit Rabbah 44:1): “The
commandments were given only to refine
people.”
There is also the third way, the relationship
of husband and wife, the path of the Baal
Shem Tov, who taught to serve Hashem
with the awareness that “Hashem and
Israel are one.” Just as the wife does not
act for herself like a son does, nor only
for the other like the servant do, but from
a deep desire to do her husband’s will—
thereby strengthening their bond—so too
in divine service. For example, when a
wife prepares breakfast for her husband,
it is not like the servant, who does so
because it is his duty, nor like the son,
who does so to improve himself and
please his father. Rather, she prepares it
as part of their connection. When her
husband enjoys the meal, she herself feels
satisfaction, which in turn strengthens the
bond between them. Similarly, in serving
the Creator, some perform mitzvot
because it feels good and uplifting, for
this connects them to their Creator. Their
only desire is to bring pleasure to Him.
For instance, in prayer one may pray as a
servant, fulfilling the commandment of
prayer: “And you shall serve Hashem,”
which the Sages interpreted: “What is
service of the heart? This is prayer.” Thus
one may stand in prayer intending to
fulfill his Master’s command. Since this
is done more out of obligation than desire,
the focus often wears thin over time, and

the person may just wish to finish quickly
and move on. Another may pray as a son,
requesting his needs from his father,
knowing it is his father’s will that he ask.
The Sages taught that Hashem longs for
our prayers. Ramban even ruled that
Torah law requires prayer only in times of
trouble, like a son turning to his father for
rescue. Yet sometimes people, having all
they need, lack heartfelt motivation to
pray.
But there is also the third way—one
stands in prayer seeking to bond with the
Creator, with the sole aim of strengthening
the love between them and pouring out
one’s heart. Such prayer is not an act of
compulsion, nor primarily a request for
needs, but wholly an act of love and
emotion.
This is not to minimize the importance of
any form of divine service—all are
precious. Nevertheless, it is clear that the
way in which a person feels truly bonded
to the Creator is the most secure path, as
Rashi already taught (Deut. 6:5):
“Perform His words out of love. One who
serves out of love is not comparable to
one who serves out of fear. He who serves
his master out of fear—when the burden
is too heavy, he leaves him and goes.”
Now let us return to the work of Elul. In
which of these three modes does its light
shine? The hint seems clear: Elul follows
the month of Av, as the name Av means a
father, teaches that in Av we must
strengthen our relationship with the
Creator as a son to a father. Immediately
afterward comes Elul, in which we must
serve with love, as a husband and wife.
The ultimate bond of love with the
Creator is not born of fear or even duty,
but of oneness—when our will and His
will become inseparable. This is the
calling of Elul: to rise above mere
obligation or even the longing of a child,
and to enter the embrace of love, where
every mitzvah and every prayer becomes
an act of closeness. This is the essence of
Ani leDodi veDodi li—I turn to my
Beloved, and in Elul I discover that my
Beloved is already with me.