DVAR TORAH Oct. 2026

From the beginning of the month of Elul until the end of Sukkot, synagogues around the world recite Tehillim (Psalm) 27 several times a day. I have often wondered what makes this passage so significant that we say it more than any other special prayer during this season. We often add special prayers for specific holidays, but this is the only time a single passage is recited for over a month: before the holidays, during them, and in the days between. I have heard a few ideas about this psalm and its connection to the High Holiday period that I would like to share.     

The psalm opens with the words L’David Hashem Ori, “Of David: Hashem is my light.” King David declares that Hashem is his light in this world. Light is associated with hope, clarity, and optimism for what lies ahead, which fits beautifully with the 

beginning of Elul, the final month of the Jewish calendar. As we look toward Rosh Hashanah, Elul is a time of self-reflection, and that can be frightening. When we honestly examine ourselves and our behaviour over the past year, we may find it filled with mistakes, regret, and perhaps a deep sense of guilt. This is why the opening words of the psalm are so crucial to our outlook. Hashem is our light. If we seek Him over the coming weeks and commit to becoming better versions of ourselves, that dark sense of regret can be transformed into a light that guides us into the year ahead.

The very next word is V’yishi, “and my salvation.” Once we recognize the hope that Hashem offers us, we must take action and commit to self-improvement. Yet we cannot accomplish this on our own. We must place our trust in Hashem, Who forgives us as we approach Yom Kippur, the day on which we pray for the peace, redemption, and ultimate salvation of the Jewish people.

A few verses later, the psalm declares that Hashem will shelter us in His sukkah. After the awe-inspiring days of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, our relationship with Hashem shifts from Malkeinu, our King, to Avinu, our Father. He surrounds and protects us within the walls of the sukkah, showering us with love, trust, and joy before we set out on the journey of the year ahead.

Now that this season has passed, how can we hold on to these feelings and channel them through a stretch of more than a month without a single holiday? I believe the weekly parashiyot we are now reading complement these ideas perfectly. We are learning the remarkable stories of our forefathers, Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov, each of whom embodies what it means to be a true servant of Hashem.

Avraham came from a family of idol worshippers, as far removed from a connection with Hashem as one could be. Against all odds, he found the Ori that King David speaks of. He sought out the light that fills the world until he found Hashem.

Avraham passed that light on to his son Yitzchak, who endured perhaps the greatest test of faith ever known: his willingness to offer himself as a sacrifice to Hashem. Yitzchak’s commitment is a central part of our prayers on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. We recall his devotion and draw inspiration from it as we recommit ourselves to Hashem. It is that very commitment and sacrifice that will ultimately bring about Yishi, our salvation.

Finally, the light of Avraham and the commitment of Yitzchak were passed down to Yaakov. As the father of the twelve tribes of Israel, Yaakov was tasked with building the nation and establishing its roots. Without a nation, there is no one to shelter. Yaakov built the people who would serve Hashem, a people whom Hashem would protect beneath His sukkah.

As we enter the new year, we must carry the lessons of the High Holidays with us. Like Avraham, we begin by searching for the light, with a sincere yearning to grow and become more spiritual people. Like Yitzchak, we must make that commitment and accept the sacrifices that often come with it. And like Yaakov, we build, in our homes, our families, and our communities, something worthy of Hashem’s protection. When we show our King that we are truly on this path, He responds not only as a King, but as a Father, embracing us with the same warmth, comfort, and protection a father gives his children. May the light we found in Elul, the salvation we prayed for on Yom Kippur, and the shelter we felt in the sukkah accompany us through every day of the year ahead.