On the second day of Rosh Hashanah, the shofar finally sounds. Yesterday’s question was: Are you awake? Today’s question goes deeper: What are you awake for and what happens when you finally know where you want to go, but you hit a wall? Drawing on a powerful teaching of the Baal Shem Tov, Rabbi Yisroel Bernath tells the story of people invited to visit a king. Again and again they encounter walls, obstacles, distractions, and treasures. Some turn back. Some settle for the rewards along the way. But a few keep going because they remember why they came: “I came for the King.” When they finally reach the innermost chamber and look back, they discover something astonishing: the walls were never what they appeared to be. The King had never been far away. We all have walls: anxiety, grief, shame, resentment, fear, family struggles, illness, disappointment, self-criticism, or the belief that we should be further along by now. The Baal Shem Tov’s teaching does not deny the reality of pain. It challenges the conclusion that because life feels difficult, G-d must therefore be distant. Kabbalah teaches leit atar panui minei, there is no place devoid of Him. Even the wall itself exists within the palace. The place we imagine is separating us from G-d may be precisely the place where G-d is meeting us. But the sermon goes one uncomfortable step further: sometimes the wall does not merely block us, it becomes our excuse not to move. Pain is real, but we can surrender our future to it by saying, “This is simply who I am,” “Nothing can change,” or “I cannot move until someone else changes first.” The alternative is not pretending we were never hurt. It is becoming a co-creator with G-d and asking: Given what happened, what do I want to create now? The shofar becomes the perfect expression of that journey: Teki’ah - wholeness. Shevarim - brokenness. Teruah - fragments. And then another Teki’ah - wholeness again. Not because nothing happened, but because beneath everything that broke is a deeper part of the soul that never stopped belonging to the King. Rosh Hashanah therefore asks us not to demolish every wall overnight, but simply to identify one wall and take one step. One apology. One boundary. One conversation. One mitzvah. One honest act of courage. And when the shofar sounds, hear the deeper truth: You were never outside the palace. The King was with you inside the journey all along. Key Points - Awakening is only the beginning. Once we know we want to change, we inevitably encounter resistance, the “wall.” - The wall is not proof that G-d is far away. Difficulty, distraction, doubt, anxiety, grief, and spiritual struggle do not equal Divine absence. - The wall itself is inside the palace. Since nothing exists outside G-d, even concealment exists within His presence. - Pain is real; separation is not. The sermon carefully distinguishes between denying suffering and refusing to interpret suffering as abandonment. - Thoughts can masquerade as reality. “I am broken,” “I’ll never change,” “I’m not good enough,” and “I’m too far gone” may feel like facts while actually functioning as walls. - Sometimes the wall becomes an alibi. A painful story can quietly become permission not to move, grow, repair, forgive, or take responsibility. - The opposite of Victim is Co-Creator. We cannot control everything that happens to us, but we remain partners with G-d in deciding what happens next. - You cannot always choose what happens to you, but you can participate in what happens through you. - You do not need to climb twenty walls today. Take one step: one apology, boundary, appointment, conversation, mitzvah, or change in how you show up. - Success can become a wall too. Not only suffering distracts us from the King. Career, money, status, accomplishments, and even religious achievements can become “treasures” that cause us to forget why we began the journey. - A mitzvah is not a trophy; it is a doorway. The question is not merely what we accomplished, but whether it brought us closer. The shofar tells the story of the soul: Teki’ah - whole. Shevarim - broken. Teruah - fragmented. Teki’ah - whole again. - Teshuvah means return. And you can only return somewhere you already belong. - The King was never waiting at the end of the journey. G-d was present inside every step of it. - The deepest Rosh Hashanah question becomes: What did you come for? And beneath all the noise, the neshamah answers: I came for the King. Rabbi Yisroel Bernath's New Book The Forgiveness Experiment is Available now: Paperback: https://www.amazon.com/Forgiveness-Experiment-What-Would-Your/dp/1069217638 Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FR2QNJL6 Audiobook: https://bit.ly/4tPFZhV Support the show Got your own question for Rabbi Bernath? He can be reached at rabbi@jewishndg.com or http://www.theloverabbi.com Single? You can make a profile on www.JMontreal.com and Rabbi Bernath will help you find that special someone. Donate and support Rabbi Bernath’s work http://www.jewishndg.com/donate Follow Rabbi Bernath’s YouTube Channel https://www.youtube.com/user/ybernath Access Rabbi Bernath's Articles on Relationships https://medium.com/@loverabbi
