(From a class given in Tishrei 5749, in Raanana, Israel)

We find ourselves tonight in the middle of a very awesome period of the Jewish calendar. Sandwiched between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur is the period called aseres yemei hateshuvah -- the ten days of repentance. It is during this ten-day period that our fate is written and sealed, as you know. "On Rosh Hashanah they are written, and on Yom Kippur they are sealed," as the machzor states, for a good sweet year. Who will live and who will die, who will have a peaceful life, who will have a tragic death, and even if we will die -- who will die at the end of his life and who will die before his time. Supposing one of us sitting here G-d forbid has a not-so-wonderful decree pending. Is there anything we can do? Yes, say our Sages: "Teshuvah, tefilah, and tzedakah -- remove evil decrees." This is comparable to an appeal in an earthly court.

What do these three words mean in English? It's simple? But it is not so simple. Since these words are in loshon haKodesh, G-d's holy tongue, it is naturally important to translate them properly. However, it turns out that the English translation of these words is exactly the opposite of their meaning in Hebrew.

Let's begin with the word teshuvah, which is usually translated as repentance. However, the proper Hebrew word for repentance in the sense of regret is charota, not teshuvah. The real meaning of teshuvah is "returning" or restoring. We mentioned before a meshol, a metaphor, used by the previous Lubavitcher Rebbe, the Rayatz of sainted memory, which can help us understand the real meaning of teshuvah. He makes a distinction between letters which have been engraved in stone, like the Ten Commandments, and letters which have been written on parchment, like a Sefer Torah. The difference between the two is that the former are part of the stone itself, whereas the latter are actually two different things, ink and parchment, although they have been united. He then compares all Jews to the letters engraved in stone. He explains that the letters of Torah have been engraved in the heart of every Jew. Torah is always engraved in the soul of every Jew in the same way that letters are engraved in stone. They are totally united. They are not merely two things which have been stuck together. And not only that. What is engraved in every Jew's soul always remains clear and whole. No Jew needs a professional scribe to repair damaged or erased letters. All that is needed is to blow away the dust which has gathered in the letters, making them clearly legible once again. Teshuvah is therefore returning to one's natural state, it is coming home.

What about tefilah, prayer? Most people regard tefilah as making requests to G-d. You ask Him for your needs. Now, although this is true, Chassidus explains other aspects of tefilah as well. One of the origins of the word tefilah is from the root pilel, meaning judgment. Tefilah is a time of self-judgment. Do I measure up to Hashem's expectations of me? Another interpretation of the origin of the word tefilah categorizes it as being from the root tofel, meaning "joining together two halves of a clay vessel," or alternatively, "glazing a clay vessel." In this sense, tefilah means cleaving to Hashem, uniting oneself with Him just as a potter joins two halves of a clay pot, or he glazes the pot, making it a complete vessel. In this sense tefillah is not so much asking Hashem for something, but rather spiritual sustenance. Just as we eat three times a day to sustain our physical selves, so we must daven three times a day (ideally speaking) in order to sustain our spiritual selves.

Similarly, tzedakah in Yiddishkeit is understood in a completely different way. Whereas the rest of the world understands it as charity, Yiddishkeit understands it as justice -- tzedakah derives from the word tzedek meaning justice and righteousness. Jewish communities of two hundred, and even one hundred years ago, used to collect monthly "taxes" from the members of the community for charitable purposes. It was obligatory for everyone to make his contribution for the benefit of the entire community.

Another aspect of tzedakah can be illustrated by the following story: It is well known that the great Maggid of Mezeritch sent all of his students out on shlichus all over Russia and Eastern Europe. Their task, like that of today's shluchim, was to bring Yiddishkeit back to the masses of Jews who had become estranged from it through ignorance, lack of education, indifference on the part of the community's spiritual leadership, etc. Many of these students of the Maggid themselves became Rebbes after his passing, but even during the life of the Maggid, many of them were regarded as holy men (which they were), and they were treated as such.

Reb Zusya of Anipoli was one of the great students of the Maggid. He himself had many followers, many chassidim who regarded him as their Rebbe, even while the Maggid was still alive. Now in Reb Zusya's community was a simple Yid who would give a portion of his earnings to Reb Zusya in order to support him. The more he gave Reb Zusya, the more successful the Yid's business dealings were, until he became a fairly wealthy man.

One day, this simple Yid discovered that his Rebbe, Reb Zusya, also had a Rebbe, the Maggid. So he figured that if his support of Reb Zusya had earned him such a great blessing that he had even managed to become fairly wealthy, to give to Reb Zusya's Rebbe would be even more effective, and he could look forward to amassing a great fortune. So the Yid stopped giving a portion of his earnings to Reb Zusya, and instead, he gave it to the Maggid.

But, lo and behold, the opposite of his expectations occurred. Instead of achieving even greater success in his business dealings, he started to lose money through one bad deal after another. Eventually the situation became so bad that he decided to consult his former Rebbe, Reb Zusya, and the reason for his sudden change in fortune was revealed.

Reb Zusya, after hearing the man's sorry tale, explained that as long as a Yid is unjudgmental, and does not make cheshbonos as to who is more worthy of tzedakah and who is less worthy, the Aibishter also does not make judgments and cheshbonos about whether a person is worthy of success in his business or not. But when a person starts making all sorts of calculations... the Aibishter is also more careful.

The point of the story is that we shouldn't be so picky about who deserves our charity and who doesn't. This is not for us to judge. There is another story told about Rebbe Chaim of Tzanz, who was known for his generosity and concern for others. He once remarked to a rich man, "You do not give as much tzedakah as you can afford, because you are worried that you might give to someone who is not worthy, whereas I give much more than I can afford, in the hope that I will give to someone who is worthy."

Ten percent of our income is given to us as trustees. It's not ours. We are simply given the privilege of distributing it. If we don't give it of our free will, it's taken by force. Think of the past year. Do you remember how much money came in unexpectedly, and how many unexpected expenses you had? Make a calculation, and you might find some surprising results! The Rebbe Rayatz points out that our earnings for the year are decided in Heaven. In fact, all this is being decided right now Upstairs in the Financial Department. Whatever you do, however much you work, you will not be able to change things one bit. True, a person has to make a kli, a vessel, for Hashem's brochos, but it should only be regarded as that. It is certainly not a person's own exclusive efforts which will make him rich or poor.

So now that we know the correct translation of these terms, teshuvah, tefilah, and tzedakah, we will be able to do the right kind of service, and hopefully avert any evil decrees.

(The last part of this shiur was written down in cryptic points. Only a few points have been extracted and amplified. Ed.)

In one week's time we will be celebrating Sukkos, and just as the Ten Days of Repentance have a lesson for each of us, so does Sukkot. Our Sages teach that, "All of Bnei Yisroel are worthy of sitting together in one Sukkah." In addition, many ma'amarim and sichos explain how each of the four species used on Sukkos represents the idea of unity (achdus) of the Jewish people. In addition, although last year was the year of Hakhel, when all the Jews would gather together in the Beis HaMikdash during Sukkos, to listen to the king reciting sections of the Torah, the Rebbe explains that this idea of hakhel must be continued into the years which follow the hakhel year, and also express the unity and togetherness of the entire Jewish people.

Sometimes we feel we've messed things up -- we would have liked to do better. This entire year is the time to make changes. The Rebbe Rayatz teaches that nothing is ever ultimately farfallen and cannot be rectified. We can always make up for our previous omissions.

Just in the past few weeks the Rebbe has been speaking about things which I wish to share with you. The Rebbe asks that each of us make our homes into a bayis shel chesed by ensuring that we have tzedakah boxes attached to one of the walls of our homes...

May it be a wonderful year for all of us and our families -- spiritually and physically, with good health and nachas from our families.