The Urgency of Now: Walking through the Gates of Righteousness

The Urgency of Now: Walking through the Gates of Righteousness
Rabbinic Intern Brooklyn Michalowicz

Our tradition teaches that during these Ten Days of Awe — the sacred time between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur — the gates of heaven stand open. The Divine is closer than ever, but come time for Neilah, the gates close again at the very end of Yom Kippur.

Standing before the open gates, we are called to ask ourselves:
With only five days left, what else is required of us right now?

Having just celebrated the new year, we might turn to a piece of liturgy taken from our prayers for the new month that speaks to the theme of this season:

Psalms 118 reads:

“Pitchu li sha’arei tzedek avo vam odeh Yah.”

“Open for me the gates of righteousness, that I may enter them and give thanks to the Eternal.”

Traditionally, our sages understood this verse in two ways:

Some imagined that this applied to the Temple gates of biblical times, when someone who had survived hardship would bring their offering of thanks.

Others saw it as a plea for God to open the heavenly gates so that their prayers of gratitude may be better received.

Like upgrading from Divine dial-up to 5G.

But Rabbi Jill Maderer offers a different translation. Rather than “Open for me the gates,” she suggests: “Open me, the gates of righteousness.”

“I can be the gate that closes off to prayer or I can be the gate that allows my soul to pour through. Pitchu Li: Open me.”

It is a radical invitation: to stop waiting for God to act, and to realize that sometimes, God is waiting for us. We know how often this happens. In desperation, we pray: God, heal our broken world. God, sway the hearts of those in power to do what is just. God, please show us the way.

And sometimes God answers:
I already did. I created you.
You are the ones who must open.
You are the ones who must act.

Yet so often, we hesitate.
We see a problem and think: “What difference will one small act make when the whole world seems to be struggling?
It won’t solve anything.” So we do nothing.
And still, these days, with many, many of us, verging on hopelessness, one small act is everything.

A band aid may not heal the wound, but it can help someone get through the day. The psalm is not asking us to solve the whole world’s problems. It is asking us to do what we can. Open me, the gates of righteousness. But what if suffering — personal or communal — leaves us overwhelmed, afraid, or numb, unable to move at all?

Well the energy we use to act often comes from the same place as the energy that makes us miserable. Negative feelings can destroy us, or we can take that energy and apply it elsewhere. Discontent can motivate us to act justly. Grief can lead us toward understanding. And regret can move us to change. Our righteous acts in the Ten Days of Awe can be forms of prayer that pierce our own resistance and reach God with extra potency.

In her book The 5 Second Rule, author Mel Robbins teaches that when we need to act but feel stifled by helplessness, apathy, even depression, we can motivate ourselves with a deceptively simple practice: count backward like a NASA rocket launch — 5-4-3-2-1 — move. Since 2017, her technique has been used by doctors, therapists, and corporate coaches, to replace people’s tendency to overthink the smallest moves with a bias toward action. “When you act with courage,” she writes, “your brain is not involved. Your heart speaks first and you listen…” Imagine a woman struggling to carry a stroller up the subway stairs and deciding, in just five seconds, to lend a hand. Imagine an unhoused person sitting outside the grocery store, and deciding, in just five seconds, to go straight to the prepared food section. Imagine feeling the pull to take on a larger project — volunteering, starting an initiative, supporting grassroots organizations — and using that five-second countdown to take the first step.

Our tradition even echoes this advice in the midrash Mekhilta: Mitzvah haba’ah l’yadcha, al tachmitzenah — “When a mitzvah comes into your hand, do not let it spoil. Do it right away.”

When we move, the gates of righteousness open. Not because God flings them wide, but because we do. An open heart is the key that opens the gates of heaven. And the actions that follow — quick, compassionate, courageous — are how we walk through them. And we must walk.

In just a moment, we will open the ark to read from our Sefer Torah. The Zohar — one of our core mystical texts — teaches that every time we open the ark and take out the Torah, the heavenly gates open and love is awakened in the heavens. What happens above is mirrored below, and so love is stirred within each of us. Torah does not only open heaven — Torah opens us. This Shabbat, Shabbat Shuva, carries with it extra urgency to be moved by love and righteousness, as the gates are doubly open to us.

The moment to be the change we wish to see in the world is now. And when we reach Neilah, and the heavenly gates begin to close, we may feel a pang of loss as this particularly meaningful opportunity for atonement comes to an end. Yet, we can remember every time we rise to take out the Torah, to think of this very moment when we stood in a liminal space,

Spiritually vulnerable and motivated. As we rise to open the ark, let our hearts be stirred with love. We have five more days before Yom Kippur —
Five more days to meet the special urgency of this moment,
Five more days to take five seconds and act,
Five more days before the wide-open gates of heaven swing shut, at least, for now.

May we not only pray, “Open for me the gates.” but let us pray: “Open me.”
Open my eyes. Open my heart. Open my hands.
Open my soul to act before the moment passes me by.