Changes in Prayer Between Summer and Winter - Rabbi Binyomin Cohen shlita

00:02 Speaker 1 You’re listening to “Lema’an Yishme’u,” a podcast from the Chabad Halacha Institute.

00:09 Speaker 2 Now let’s turn to winter and summer: “Vesein tal umatar livrachah” and “Vesein berachah,” or, in another version of the prayer, “Bareich aleinu” and “Barecheinu.” We see a difference between the change from winter to summer and the change from summer to winter. When we move from winter to summer, on the first day of Pesach, we immediately begin saying “Morid hatal” in Musaf, and at Maariv after Yom Tov we say “Vesein berachah,” or “Barecheinu” in another version. But the change from summer to winter is different. At Musaf on Shemini Atzeres—which is also Simchas Torah in Israel—we say “Mashiv haruach umorid hageshem.” Yet we still don’t say “Bareich aleinu, vesein tal umatar livrachah” after Simchas Torah; we wait until 7 Cheshvan. The reason is well known: when the Beis Hamikdash stood, pilgrims would travel up to Jerusalem and then had to return home. If we asked for rain, they might get wet on the way, causing them distress. Our Sages estimated how long it took to reach the farthest Jewish settlement from Jerusalem, by the Euphrates River, and reckoned it was about two weeks. So they said: Until 7 Cheshvan, we won’t ask for rain; we won’t say “Bareich aleinu, vesein tal umatar livrachah.” We’ll wait until 7 Cheshvan. This shows us Ahavas Yisroel and consideration for others. After all, how many Jews lived by the Euphrates River compared with the population of Eretz Yisroel? Less than one percent, I would estimate. So why, for those few individuals, do we wait until 7 Cheshvan—two whole weeks—and refrain from asking for rain so they won’t get wet? What about consideration for everyone else? What about the needs of the many versus the few? But that’s just the point: here we see Ahavas Yisroel, with the community taking the individual into account. Yet this seems to contradict something else. In the Musaf prayer of

02:51 Speaker 2 Yom Kippur, we recount the prayer the Kohen Gadol would say when he entered the Holy of Holies. He would say a short prayer. One of the things he would say was: “Do not let the prayers of travelers regarding rain come before You when the whole world needs it.” The Kohen Gadol was saying, “Master of the Universe, if someone on the road asks You to stop the rain until he gets home, don’t accept his prayer.” Why? Because the whole world needs rain. Here the needs of the many take precedence over those of the individual. But earlier we saw exactly the opposite. All of the Jewish people wait until 7 Cheshvan and don’t ask for rain so that the last Jew can reach the Euphrates River safely, without getting wet on the way. So why don’t we take into account the person asking for the rain to stop? What is he asking for, after all? Give me ten minutes to get home. No—the Kohen Gadol preemptively sets aside those pray—those requests, ruling out all those prayers and requests from travelers because the whole world needs rain. So what’s the difference? The answer is simple. When we speak about the last Jew reaching the Euphrates River, we’re speaking about a fixed period: two weeks. For two weeks, we’re prepared to bear it, to wait and not ask for rain, so that the last pilgrim gets home dry, not wet. But here we’re talking about the entire winter, all five or six winter months, when people are constantly on the road. One person is coming back from a wedding, another from work or a night shift; someone else is heading out for a night shift, and others are traveling to or from somewhere else. There will always be someone on the road, and always someone asking, “Master of the Universe, stop the rain until I get home.” If Hakadosh Boruch

05:04 Speaker 2 Hu were to accept those prayers, no rain would fall all winter. So when we’re speaking about the entire winter, the needs of the many come before those of the individual. The whole world needs rain. We can’t stop the rain because Reuven or Shimon needs to get home. They’ll get a little wet; nothing will happen. They’ll get a little wet and reach home. The world needs rain. After Sukkos, by contrast, we’re talking about a set period of just two weeks, and we do wait that long so the last Jew can reach the Euphrates River. Although one could ask: Today, the Beis Hamikdash has still not been built. There are no pilgrims who need to return to the Euphrates River and might get wet. And even when, with Hashem’s help, Moshiach comes and the Beis Hamikdash is built, it won’t take two weeks to get to the Euphrates River. In the time of the Beis Hamikdash, people traveled by horse, donkey, mule and carriage, and it took two weeks. Today, boruch Hashem, we have modern transportation: cars, buses and trains. How long does it take to get to the Euphrates River? No longer than it takes to get to Eilat. Five hours, four and a half hours by car; six hours by bus with a rest stop. So why do we still have to wait until 7 Cheshvan? It’s no longer relevant: first, because there is no Beis Hamikdash, and second, because even when there is a Beis Hamikdash, the trip won’t take two weeks. So why do we still wait two weeks? There’s an important message here: to show us what it means to consider another person. We’re prepared to go without rain in the meantime so that that one Jew can get home without arriving wet. Another point: we see that the change from summer to winter and from winter to summer is made during Musaf. At Musaf on the first day of Pesach,

07:12 Speaker 2 we begin saying “Morid hatal,” and at Musaf on the first day of Shemini Atzeres, we begin saying “Mashiv haruach umorid hageshem.” Why Musaf, though? Why not Shacharis? More than that, why not Maariv? After all, in Judaism, everything begins at night: “And there was evening, and there was morning.” Shabbos doesn’t begin on Shabbos morning; it begins on Friday evening. All the festivals begin that way. Pesach doesn’t begin on the morning of the 15th; the festival begins on the night following the 14th. Sukkos begins on the night following the 14th of Tishrei, and it’s the same with every festival. So why not make the change that evening? In winter, why not say “Mashiv haruach umorid hageshem” at Maariv on the night of Shemini Atzeres instead of at Musaf? And in summer, why not say “Morid hatal” at Maariv on the night of Pesach, before the Seder, instead of at Musaf on the first day of Pesach? Everything in Judaism begins in the evening, not in the morning. The Alter Rebbe explains in Shulchan Aruch, and other halachic authorities also mention this, that in Talmudic times the shuls were not inside the neighborhoods as they are today. There weren’t shuls within the towns and settlements. The shul was outside the town. Usually there was one large shul that people would go out to for prayer. Not everyone could walk all the way there. Some elderly people found the walk difficult; there were older people and sick people who had trouble walking. So for Maariv, they would gather in small groups in their homes. After all, there’s no Torah reading at Maariv. What do you need? Ten people. You gather ten people and hold a minyan. In the morning, there’s a Torah reading. Not everyone has a Torah scroll at home; most people don’t. Torah scrolls belong in the aron kodesh in the shul, not in private homes. So in the morning, everyone came to shul. That’s why they didn’t begin the change to “Mashiv”

09:36 Speaker 2 Mashiv haruach umorid hageshem, and the change to morid hatal at Maariv, because people in those small minyanim might not know the halachah. On the Seder night, the first night of Pesach, they might go on saying mashiv haruach umorid hageshem. Then we would start saying morid hatal in the large minyan while they would still be saying mashiv haruach umorid hageshem in a small minyan. Or the reverse on Shemini Atzeres: in the large minyan we would already be saying mashiv haruach umorid hageshem, while in a small minyan they would still be saying morid hatal. That would create confusion. So we take into account those small minyanim, where people may not know the halachah completely or be so familiar with it. We’re concerned that they won’t know they need to switch from mashiv haruach umorid hageshem to morid hatal, or from morid hatal to mashiv haruach umorid hageshem. That’s why we don’t make the change at night. We wait until the morning, until Musaf, so the change can be announced aloud when everyone is together in shul. Again, we see consideration for others, consideration for the few. Most of the congregation did come to the main shul, but we still take into account those few people in smaller minyanim who may not know the halachah and may not make the change correctly. That’s why we, too, wait until morning. And why specifically Musaf, rather than Shacharis? All right, we want to wait for them and not start at Maariv. Fine, but we could start at Shacharis—everyone is already in shul then. So why wait specifically until Musaf? Because during Shacharis, one may not speak between Ga’al Yisroel and the beginning of the Amidah. The chazzan or the shamash can’t announce, “Gentlemen, mashiv haruach umorid hageshem,” or, “We’re starting morid hatal.” Speaking is not permitted. What can he do? At most, he can knock on the table, and not everyone will necessarily understand what the knock means. So we wait until Musaf, and then

11:53 Speaker 2 before Musaf, it’s possible to announce, “Gentlemen, we are now switching to mashiv haruach umorid hageshem,” on Shemini Atzeres, or, on Pesach, “We are switching to morid hatal.” Then everyone will daven correctly. We also recite the prayers for rain and dew, which we cannot do during Shacharis because one may not speak between Ga’al Yisroel and the beginning of the Amidah. Again, we see the same point: consideration for others, even if it seems to be only a few people, and even if those few would have no problem if they knew the halachah. But perhaps they don’t know it. We take them into account, too, and wait. We don’t make the switch from winter to summer or from summer to winter until Musaf. Again, the point is Ahavas Yisroel and consideration for others.