Lo Sinaf: Faithfulness in a World of Fantasy

לא תנאף - “You shall not commit adultery.”

This post is part of a series exploring the Aseres Hadibros (Ten Commandments) through the lens of our relationships- with G-d, with ourselves, and with each other.

At first glance, Lo Sinaf sounds straightforward: don’t betray your spouse.
But on a deeper level, it’s about something much bigger.

Like we’ve been exploring these last weeks, there’s always more than meets the eye.
Lo Sinaf is about faithfulness to relationship itself - resisting the temptation to abandon the slow (sometimes achingly slow) sacred path of connection for a shortcut that looks easier, more exciting, or more gratifying.

When we place Lo Sinaf next to the second dibbur - Lo Yihiye Lecha Elohim Acherim (“You shall have no other gods before Me”) - a pattern emerges.
Both commandments are about loyalty. About staying in covenant.
About remembering the first and most foundational truth:
Anochi Hashem Elokecha - “I am Hashem your G-d.”
I am the Source. The One who took you out of Egypt.
The One who is in this with you.

But we forget.
We look elsewhere.

And not always in obvious, scandalous ways. Sometimes it’s subtle.
Sometimes it’s even dressed up as spiritual growth, emotional connection, or “authenticity.”
And to make things even more nuanced,  sometimes we’re right; there is something real waiting for us on the outside.
But beneath the surface, it’s often a refusal to stay in the discomfort of the real relationship.
A desire to leap past the process and get the outcome- without the cost.

In Our Relationship with G-d

We want to feel close to Hashem, to be uplifted.
But do we show up every day when it’s dry?
Do we learn, daven, and keep mitzvos even when they feel heavy?

Or are we constantly chasing a new spiritual high, a more inspiring teacher, a different path because the old one got boring?

Don’t get me wrong- I’m all for sparks and renewal.
But when passion becomes the only standard for commitment, we’ve already stepped out of the covenant.
That’s not relationship. That’s consumption.

And on Erev Rosh Hashana especially, we have to ask ourselves:
Are we in this with Him for real, or only when it feels good?

Like choosing the looser sweater when no one would know the difference; because it’s a relationship, not a vibe.

I’ll admit (and it makes me cringe a little) that there are items on my self-improvement list that have been there for years.
And I’m no closer to achieving them.

Why?
Because consistency - doing the boring, daily things that move the needle - isn’t glamorous.
It’s like making your bed every morning: not exciting, but it has to get done. Every. Day.
Whether you wake up inspired or cranky,  it doesn’t matter. It’s covenantal.

Yeah… I struggle with this one.
Consistency is not my natural strong suit.

In Our Relationship with Ourselves

So many of us are trying to get somewhere- to feel whole, confident, successful.
But instead of doing the slow, honest work of healing or growth, we try to skip the hard parts.

We mask. We perform.
We try to “feel empowered” before we’ve faced our fear, shame, or brokenness.
We bypass the daily minutes of showing up in imperfection and call it “enlightenment.”

Like posting confident affirmations while ignoring the hard conversation you owe yourself.

I have my own moments of bypass,  when I tell myself stories about how I’m actually doing great.
Because to look in the mirror and say, Nechama, you’re not getting closer. You’re failing right now. It isn’t working.
That’s terrifying.

But then to add, yet - that’s the sacred pivot.
You’re not there yet.

That, too, is a kind of infidelity; to the truth of who we are and who we’re becoming.
A betrayal of the process.

Real self-love means not abandoning ourselves just because we’re not there yet.

In Our Relationships with Others

In marriage, dating, or friendship, it’s easy to crave connection without doing the work of commitment.
We want to be seen, desired, loved, but we don’t always want to be vulnerable, accountable, or steady.

We flirt with people who aren’t ours.
We vent to others instead of having the hard conversation with the person we’re actually in relationship with.
We chase intensity over intimacy.

It can be so seductive to see something shiny and think: there - that’s where it’s better.

But we forget that true intimacy, real relationship, will always demand the same foundations:

Love. Respect. Loyalty. Trust. Honesty. Integrity.

And the same basic skills:

Communicating. Listening. Compromising. Expressing gratitude.

There are no shortcuts.

Like texting your friend about your spouse instead of texting your spouse about what’s actually going on.

Sometimes the most dangerous kind of betrayal doesn’t look like betrayal at all.
It looks like withholding.

When we stop bringing our best energy, creativity, affection, and presence into the relationship, and instead start giving those things elsewhere - to work, friends, our phone, or even to fantasy - we’ve redirected sacred resources.

We may still be technically in the relationship, but we’re no longer feeding it.
That, too, is a kind of stepping out - quiet, not dramatic, but deadly over time.

Lo Sinaf says: stop playing with fire. Stop feeding fantasy.
Come back to the person in front of you, and do the real work.

The Work of Erev Rosh Hashana

This is the work of Erev Rosh Hashana: to come back.
To choose covenant again.
Not just as a belief system, but as a way of life.

To say to Hashem:

I’m done running. I’m done chasing other “gods” — validation, achievement, pleasure, ego.
I want You. I want the real thing.
Even if it’s harder. Even if it takes time.
Because You are the Source. And there is nothing else.

To say to ourselves:

I’ll stop pretending I’m somewhere I’m not.
I’ll stop looking for quick fixes.
I’ll honor my process.
I’ll stay with my pain and keep walking forward - slowly, honestly, faithfully.

To say to those we love:

I choose presence over fantasy.
Integrity over escape.
I want what’s real - even if it’s messier.

There is no shortcut to holiness.
There is no bypass to intimacy.
The only way in is through.

And that’s the invitation of Lo Sinaf: to return to the sacred boundaries that make love possible.
To trust that what we’re longing for, connection, fulfillment, truth- can only be found inside the relationship, never outside it.

To put this into practice, ask yourself:

• Where have I been slipping out the side door instead of walking through the front?

• What relationship have I been half-in, half-out - wanting the reward without the responsibility?

Maybe this year, it’s time to stop flirting with fantasy.
And start showing up for what’s real.

So on this Erev Rosh Hashana, let’s not just recommit to rules.
Let’s recommit to relationships.
Let’s come back to Anochi.
Let’s stay in the covenant.
Let’s choose the long road — because it’s the only road that leads home.