The Sages referred to the first 10
days of our Jewish year as the aseres
yemei teshuva – the ten days of teshuva (repentance/return to Hashem). These days begin with Rosh Hashana, a day of malchus (kingship) and din (judgment), where we focus on God’s
reign over the entire world – melech al
kol ha’aretz. They continue with the
seven days prior to Yom Kippur; days of repentance, reflections,
self-improvement, making amends for past transgressions against others and
against God. And finally the ten days
commence with Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, on which we are provided an
atonement for our sins, provided proper repentance. From both the lectures I have heard and the
books I have read related to teshuva,
it appears the rabbis believed that shame (i.e. embarrassment) is a feeling
that would stop someone from returning from their incorrect path(s) in life to
God, the Torah, and the Jewish lifestyle. Therefore they cautioned against this
potential thought. This thought is
espoused by both the Rambam and Rabbeinu Yonah, and the introduction to the
Artscroll Machzor for Rosh Hashana states, based on Rav Dessler:
Let not
his [the sinner’s] thoughts confound him and restrain him from repenting on the
grounds that he is ashamed of
his sins. He may think, ‘How can I be so
brazen as to repent, when I have erred, been iniquitous, and willfully
sinned! I have done such and such; I
have transgressed over and over countlessly.
How can I come before Him again, ashamed,
like a thief who has been caught; for I am ashamed
to stand before Him! Moreover, how dare I step into His courtyards, and how
dare I observe His decrees!’
There may have been a time when this
method of instruction was relevant. It
is still relevant, I believe, to many religious Jews. It is certainly relevant
to an introspective, honest, soul-searching individual. But the majority of Jews in the 21st
century are, sadly, numb to such instruction.
How many Jews today can honestly approach God with a feeling of shame
that they have erred? There is, I
believe, a surface level introspection amongst the majority: I need to improve
myself by improving this relationship, by making an effort to give back to my
community, by not gossiping…. Yet even
when someone recognizes today that they have improvements to make, I don’t
think the feeling of shame overcomes them.
And even less people take the initiative to actually make improvement –
to pick up the Chofetz Chaim’s book on loshon
hara in order to become more sensitive to gossip, to learn the details of
the way one’s speech can really impact a person and, perhaps, a community. To actually improve one’s self takes effort, time, commitment, and
resolve. And it’s hard.
But things that are hard are often
most meaningful to our lives and make the most difference in our lives. I think we can see this through the haftarah readings (a selected reading
from Prophets each day) on the two days of Rosh Hashana.
As I was reviewing the Torah and
Haftarah (Reading from the book of Prophets) on the two days of Rosh Hashana I
noticed a difference between the themes of the day. A gemara in the Talmud (Rosh Hashana 11a)
tells us that “On Rosh Hashana Sarah, Rachel and Hannah were remembered.” This is a reference to our matriarchs Sarah and
Rachel, and the mother of the prophet Samuel, Hannah, who were praying for
children and God answered their prayers on Rosh Hashana. Based on this verse,
we read of Sarah in the Torah reading on the first day of Rosh Hashana and of
Hannah in the haftarah. But on the
second day, when I would expect to read of Rachel, we are instead greeted by a Torah
reading about the sacrifice of Isaac (which took place in the month of Tishrei)
and a haftarah from Jeremiah that promises redemption of the Jewish
people. Struck by the difference between
the two days, I discovered an article by Rav Moshe Lichtenstein explaining the
differences between the two haftarot:
In the story
of Chana, we read about a woman of amazing spiritual strength, whose prayer is
answered and whose aspirations are realized by virtue of her actions. God remembers her in the wake of the
self-sacrifice that she demonstrates and the powerful prayer she offers,
[offering her first born to the service of God]….
In the
haftarah read on the second day, on the other hand, we encounter the opposite situation. (Jeremiah) prophesies during the time of the
destruction [of the Temple]…. He does
not explain the redemption as following from Israel’s merits, but from their
wretchedness…. [As it says:] They shall come [to Israel during the
redemption] with weeping, and with supplications will I lead them. I will cause them to walk by the rivers of
waters in a straight way, in which they shall not stumble, for I am a father to
Israel and Efrayim is my firstborn. (Jeremiah 31:6-8)….
In the second days’ haftarah, Rav
Lichtenstein continues, the beginnings of teshuva
(repentance) comes on the heels of the redemption. God’s mercy saves us and when we recognized
His compassion and kindness towards us we will then begin the process of
repentance and returning to Him.
On the first day we read of the
ideal redemption – to be redeemed through our merits. Through self-sacrifice. Through prayer and deed. Through development of a relationship with Melekh al kol ha’aretz, the King of all
the world. But on the second day we are
comforted: even if we are unable to attain this lofty level of conduct and
connection, “God will treat us graciously and with compassion.” Therefore we pray on Yom Kippur before
beginning viduiy, confessions:
Do not ignore
our supplications, for we are not so brazen and obstinate as to say before You,
Hashem, our God, and the God of our forefathers, that we are righteous and have
not sinned. Rather, in truth, we and our
forefathers have sinned.
And we recall His mercy:
[God
says,] I, only I, am the One who wipes
away your willful sins for My sake, and I shall not recall your errors. And it says, I have wiped away your willful sins like a cloud and your errors like
a mist – so return to Me, for I have redeemed you.
From Rosh Hashana up until Yom
Kippur we are focusing on teshuva, improving
ourselves, becoming better people and better Jews, resolving to make the next
year better than the last through a closer connection to God and our Judaism
(which in truth encompasses our entire lives).
On Yom Kippur we have the same resolve, but we recognize how small we
are, how much we have strayed from God, how much potential we have let fall by
the wayside. We say viduiy during all five services of Yom Kippur, confessing and
expressing our sins, humbling ourselves.
Perhaps the rabbis intended some comfort in the prayers in the way that
Jeremiah did: we will be redeemed even if we have fallen short of where we
should be. We must strive to utilize all
of our potential, but when we fall short, Hashem’s mercy and compassion is
still there to support us. He is our “God,
King Who sits on the throne of mercy; Who acts with kindness, pardons the sins
of His people, removes them one by one, increasingly grants pardon to careless
sinners and forgiveness to rebels, Who deals righteously with every living
being.”
