You are probably going to read the heading of this article, yawn and say, “Oh, I’ve heard this all a million times before.”
The “King is in the field”. Tell me you haven’t heard that every single year as we approach Elul. That phrase has become a popular, feel-good expression and the lyrics for dozens of songs that convey how G-d is extra accessible in the weeks before the High Holidays. Many people are unaware that this idea is a deeply mystical concept with a hyper-relevant lesson.
All year long, G-d is locked away in His “palace”. Ordinary people like you and me don’t get appointments to see the King of kings in his throne room. You can approach if you’ve earned it. And most of us are not tzaddik enough to have achieved that. Elul is a totally different story. For four weeks Hashem acts like a king on his way home from a journey abroad. His entourage travels through the fields on the outskirts of the city, and he meets and warmly greets the simple labourers as he passes through.
In this parable, we are the plebs in the fields who only glimpse the king once a year, when he returns from his annual trip.
Only we’re not farm labourers. We are sophisticated 21st-Century techies living in urban jungles. Most of us spend no time in fields and wouldn’t know what to do if we were out there. How does this whole “field” metaphor relate to us?
If you mean to tell us that G-d is close, that’s great! If your point is to highlight that we are out in the fields, hmm…
Let’s revisit the parable, moving away from the literal field and trying to understand what it represents. When you think about it, most of us are living in a field most of the time. Outdoors, you’re exposed to the elements. You are not secure at home. They don’t serve chicken soup with kneidlach in the fields. And the cell phone reception is shocking. Fields and home are opposites. Being out in the field implies we are far from our spiritual hub. It means we have strayed from our soul’s centre of gravity. Unfortunately, most of us can probably relate to that much more than to being alone and cold in a field.
In the warm-up to Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, we assess how in touch or out of touch we are with our Judaism. How have we fared spiritually since the last High Holiday season? We likely feel more “outsider” than we imagined we would be.
The good news is, Rosh Hashanah is near.
In just over a month, we’ll file into shul and persevere through the service. Hopefully, the rabbi will be on form, and the songs will be soul-stirring. The Shofar will rouse emotions. Kol Nidrei will buzz with a full Shul of eager supplicants. Neilah will climax with us all proclaiming G-d’s oneness.
All going well, we’ll feel inspired – like we were last year.
Our experience proves that inspiration doesn’t last. Shul, the High Holidays and the spine-tingling shofar are distractions from real life. They’re a fleeting moment in the Divine palace. Once they’re over, we return to the “field” in no time.
Elul reminds us that the King is in the field too. If we get a little more in touch with our soul during “ordinary” days, we’ll stay in touch. If we wait for Yom Tov to cast its spell over us, we should not expect the magic to last. Do an extra shiur, minyan or mitzvah each week until September. Guaranteed, you will have a meaningful and lasting soul-experience. Hashem is in the ‘hood this month. It takes an extra mitzvah to find Him.
