Reflecting on God's Love Welcome to our special Chovot HaLevavot (Duties of the Heart) series for the month of Elul. Today, we'll discuss the fourteenth reflection, one of my favorites, and it's inspired by a real-life situation. How do you feel when someone shows you love? Maybe it's a child, a grandchild, a spouse, or a sibling who looks at you with affection, and you feel it instantly. Your natural reaction is to love them back. As King Solomon says in Mishlei (Proverbs) 27:19, " As water reflects the face, so one's heart reflects the other ." When you look in a mirror, it reflects what you show it. The same is true for emotions—the love you give is the love you get back. Now, imagine the person reflecting this love is someone very important—a minister, a prince, or a nobleman. What if they show you a sign of their love, like buying you a flower or performing a great kindness for you, not because they need something in return but simply to help you? You'd likely feel an overwhelming desire to love them back, doing everything in your power to fulfill their will and serve them with all you have—your money, your time, and even your children. If we react this way to another human being, a creation as weak as ourselves, how much more should we react with love to our Creator? God has shown us His love through His prophets. As it says in Devarim , " because of God's love for you ." He constantly shows us signs of His love, both old and new, in every generation. Even during our exile, the Torah assures us that God does not despise us or allow us to be destroyed. Even though we were slaves, He never abandoned us. The Bonds of Friendship and Covenant We know that we should honor the friends of our parents or grandparents. For example, if someone helped your grandfather escape the old country and signed his visa papers, you would remember and honor that kindness. As it says in Mishlei (Proverbs) 27:10, " Do not abandon your friend or your father's friend ." In the Gemara in Masechet Shabbat, the famous line that the whole Torah is summed up by " love your friend as you love yourself " seems to raise a question: what does loving your friend have to do with Shabbat, Tefillin, or Tzitzit? Rashi explains that in this context, "friend" doesn't just mean a fellow human being—it means God. God is our friend and our father's friend. God constantly remembers the covenant He made with our forefathers, the supervision He had over them, as it says in Shemot (Exodus), " and the oath He swore to our ancestors ." God will keep that promise. In our prayers on Rosh Hashanah, specifically in the Zichronot section, we talk all about God remembering this covenant. Our Stiff-Necked Nature After all of this, the Chovot HaLevavot pleads with us, highlighting our lack of reciprocation. He points out five failures on our part: We don't rely on Him. We don't count on His kindness. We aren't naturally moved to love Him. We don't cleave to His service. We don't pour out our hearts to Him in prayer. He asks, "What is wrong with us?" and goes on to explain: "How thick is our nature, how stiff-necked are we?" "How weak is our faith?" "How difficult are we to be dragged after the truth?" He lists all the reasons why we should respond to God's love, yet we fail to do so. We don't remember the love He had for our fathers and grandfathers, nor do we reciprocate His love for us. We don't act because of His promises or listen because of His kindness. We aren't embarrassed by our inaction, despite the fact that He created us and provides for us with good supervision. The Chovot HaLevavot says we do not remember, reciprocate, act, listen, or feel embarrassed. The Spiderweb of the Yetzer Hara "My brother," he says, "wake up from this sleep." Here's the secret: "Remove from your heart the curtain of your Yetzer (evil inclination) that has been cast upon it." There is a curtain, a blinder, a blackout shade between our intellect and our hearts. It blocks the message. It's like a spider weaving a web that blocks the light from entering a house. At first, the web is thin, but with constant repetition, it becomes thicker and thicker until no light can get in. This is how the Yetzer Hara works with us, slowly and surely. He puts layer after layer on top of us, preventing us from seeing these truths. We must rip off that spiderweb to allow the light of our wisdom to pierce our hearts and open our eyes. The Yetzer Hara is so powerful that we often don't feel God's love, despite all the signs. We can fall into the "He loves me, he loves me not" game, like plucking petals off a flower. We don't use flowers, though. We say, "I had a good day in business today—He loves me. I got stuck in traffic—He loves me not." But there's a different way to play this game: "He loves me, He loves me lots." This shifts the question from "if" He loves me to "how much" I am going to recognize and realize His love in my life. What a powerful reflection. The next time a grandchild looks into your eyes and you love them back, ask yourself, "Where is my relationship with God? Where is my reciprocal love for Him?"