Unpacking naivete

In my previous post, I said:

I believe that naivete has an important place in our lives, in moving us from an ugly world to a more attractive one. Naivete regarding other people, naivete regarding Gd, naivete regarding ourselves. Let me be a cynic all year long, but not now, not in these weeks.

Let me add a few explanatory sentences here:

Normally, I believe in confronting questions, even going looking for them. I would rather read Richard Dawkins or biblical criticism, encountering their challenges and dealing with them, rather than pretend they don't exist; it fits my temperament. I tend to click on links that tout the latest scientific discovery that seems to contradict Bereishit, or that provide evidence tying traits of the soul with hormones and neural circuitry.

As Rosh HaShanah approaches, though, I prefer to turn off all of that noise. Not because its questions are any less valid, but because this isn't the time for it. Elul, Rosh HaShanah, Yom Kippur - these are like a marriage with Gd, a time when we are supposed to feel and express love. It's very hard to express love, to have a real bonding experience, while you're looking over your shoulder.

Hence my Rosh HaShanah derashah this year - naive in the extreme as it touted a relationship with Gd, while eliding the very real questions about just how much (or little) Gd wants that relationship. On Rosh HaShanah, I'm good with that.

As I explained it to a friend on Rosh HaShanah, I see the run-up through Elul like a second marriage. When a young couple, fresh out of school, go to the chuppah, they might have eyes only for each other, thinking the other is the best and the most attractive and the most ideal. But then imagine a couple entering a second marriage; they've seen the world, and they know that perfection is a myth and that their partner has warts and wrinkles in both body and personality. As they walk to the chuppah, though, they had better put the doubts and concerns out of their minds; to start off their marriage in a healthy way, they need that moment when they look at each other as though this is heaven, and there really is no one else in the world. Let the problems wait for another day.

That's my Elul. For these weeks, let me think that the people around me are wonderful. Let me believe that I can be wonderful. Let me trust, untrammeled, in a bond with my Creator, who watches and cares. Next week, I'll go back to wrestling with skepticism, but right now, I'm headed to the chuppah.

What rocked your world this year?

Sorry for not posting for a while. I must admit that it's not only about time; I don't feel like I have much that is both fresh and blogworthy to say these days. My thoughts are on Elul, on what it was like to be a shul rabbi in Elul vs. what it's like to be running a kollel in Elul, on teshuvah, on stress – all things I've written about copiously before. I don't need to regurgitate here; it's all in the archives.

However, I have come up with a new aspect of cheshbon hanefesh ("accounting of the soul") for myself this year, in advance of Rosh HaShanah. In addition to the standard questions and reviews, I've been asking myself: What rocked my world this year?

I don't mean highlights or lowlights, but events that truly, lastingly, changed the way I 'do business'. What changed me this year?

Some of the answers don't belong on a blog, but here are several that I can mention, in no particular order: 

• The passing of my grandmother, now almost a year ago;
• The passing of two good friends - a wonderful man (recorded here in Death of a Go'el) and a truly remarkable young woman;
• Being invited by a shul to become their Rabbi, and dithering far too long about it before declining;
• Events bringing me face-to-face with the questions that come with raising a newly adolescent son and daughter;
• Taking said son and daughter on two brief road trips;
• Agreeing to give classes  which compelled me to devote more time to learning Choshen Mishpat (business halachah);
• Being asked to write an article (Yom ha'Atzmaut YU To Go) on the Zionism of Rav Soloveitchik;
• Deciding to drive 7.5 hours each way to the RCA Convention during the Three Weeks, which resulted in me listening to two series of audiotapes, on the Enlightenment and on the early Greek philosophy;
• Receiving an email from someone who said that my role at her humanist Chanukah party for students at a university more than ten years ago was a positive influence along her path to traditional Judaism;
• Receiving a letter from someone who told me that he had been tormented for years by animosity between us back in high school. [I must admit that I have absolutely no recollection of this. This was a gamechanger for me.]

There's more, naturally, but that will do to convey the idea, and I hope the benefit, of reviewing the year this way.

Perhaps noteworthy: There is nothing on my list involving world events or politics. It has been a year of some change, but I can't think of anything about it that changed me. I can't say I'm surprised.

Cesar Kuriyama, Rabbeinu Yonah and self-improvement

CNN.com has a feature here on a TED talk by artist Cesar Kuriyama on his project, "1 Second Everyday". It's the sort of thing that my friend Neil Harris at Modern Uberdox would love.

As Kuriyama explains it:
The one-second everyday project [in which he recorded 1 second of video of his life every day, for a year, and concatenated the videos] was something that originally started out as a way for me to chronicle my year off from work but really quickly after I started I realized that it was helping me in many more ways. It was allowing me to realize that I could remember everyday that I've lived; it was allowing me to quickly reflect back on the things that I had to done, to be able to zoom out from the past month and realize, "Oh wow, I sat around a lot this month." I instantly decided to do it for the rest of my life and realized the benefits were far greater than the amount of work I needed to put into it, which was just a quick second to remind me of that day.

 I contrast this with the approach of Rabbeinu Yonah, in Yesod haTeshuvah:
This is the path he shall walk and the deed he shall perform to habituate himself to guard himself from sin. Each morning, when he rises from his sleep, he should set his mind to repent and he should examine his deeds... At the time for eating, before he eats, he should admit all of his sins, and if he corrupted anything then he should admit what he corrupted, and this very admission will distance him from all iniquity and sin...and so he should eat his morning meal, and then before eating in the evening he should admit all, as we have said, and then from the time of eating in the evening he should do the same until he lies down.

I see here two different approaches to the concept of cheshbon hanefesh, "personal accounting":

Kuriyama keeps a record, which he can turn back to over time to review where he has been. [Of course, Kuriyama isn't necessarily using this for self-examination leading to self-improvement, but I see this is a natural byproduct.]

Rabbeinu Yonah looks back at each one-second clip immediately afterward, in small increments, to catch problems immediately and steel himself against repeating them.

I do both; I keep a daily log of my activities, to which I can refer at year's end, and I also try to check in with myself pretty regularly.

which do you think works better?

A most moving video for the Ten Days of Repentance

We split our repentance process between two tiers, one our religious relationship with G-d and the other our personal relationship with our people. The following video speaks to both tiers:

1. It calls to me as a son to think about what my parents did for me;

2. It calls to me as a father to be that kind of parent for my children;

3. It calls to me as a human being to think about what Gd does for me.

Here it is; maybe you can watch this without tearing up, but I can't... (if you are very short on time, skip the first minute)

Shofar Practice

[I wrote this five years ago, in a different venue, when I was still a synagogue rabbi. It's one of my favorite posts, so I decided to bring it over here. I edited mildly, to preserve anonymity of anyone mentioned in the original post.]

Rosh HaShanah is coming; I know, because Shofar Practice started today.

Shofar Practice - it's like MLB Spring Training without the steroids, NFL Mini-Camp without the salary holdouts, NBA pre-season without the high school kids who all think they're the next Jordan. When Shofar Practice starts, there is no drama; it's just you, and the horn.

("Just let it happen, be the horn. Be the horn, Rabbi. You're not being the horn, Rabbi."

"Well, it's kind of difficult with you talking like that."

And I must include the song here, as well.)

Batten down the hatches, Rosh HaShanah's here. It's been here, coming closer, for weeks now, but as of today it's really here.

I know it's here, because I had to pull out the shofar and practice for Elul this afternoon. You can pretend there are five weeks left in the Shiva d'Nechemta, but I know better. Rosh HaShanah is knocking at the door, and it isn't going to care whether I answer or not. It's going to huff and puff on the old shofar and blow my house in.

When I was eight or nine years old, I used to live in dread of Summer Camp; I vividly remember nights when I went to sleep hoping I would die before the summer, so I wouldn’t have to go to camp. My dread of Rosh HaShanah doesn’t move me quite that far - but perhaps only because I have my own children to think about now, and I would hate to do that to them.

How can a tokeia (shofar blower) concentrate on his own teshuvah while he blows the shofar? Obviously, they’re all much better at this than I am. I spend those moments worrying about the mechanics, about generating a clear sound, about not embarrassing myself. Which is why I blow only for Elul, not for Rosh haShanah.

Rosh HaShanah: The day when I have to find a way to motivate hundreds of people to take their judgment seriously.

Rosh HaShanah: The day when the fate of my community of so many physically needy, financially needy, emotionally needy, religiously needy, will be determined.

Rosh HaShanah: The day when I have to be judged, myself.

A lot of the trick is just in getting the Shofar seated properly. If it’s in wrong, all the blowing in the world won’t help. If it’s in right, the gentlest puff generates a smooth, powerful sound. There’s a nimshal (allegorical lesson) in there somewhere.

Soon I'll get the phone calls asking, "I'm five months pregnant, do I fast?" "I'm nursing, do I fast?" "What about my asthma medication?" "Heart medication?" "Insulin?" "Prozac?" I'm glad they ask, and I'm grateful to those who actually ask before the morning of Erev Yom Kippur, but each question puts my nerves a little further on edge, makes me a little more tense.

I put the Shofar to my lips and blow the first blast, and it's tentative because my lips vibrate and they kind of jump back, startled, from the weird feeling of these vibrations. I get nervous, against my better judgment; will I be able to blow well, or will I have trouble?

I spoke to our Lulav and Esrog vendor last week, to lock in prices. We’ve set the shul schedule through Yom Kippur; tomorrow, I’ll work on Succos.

I want to blow Shofar with the tallis over my head, befitting the solemnity of the moment, but my nerves get in the way.

Rosh HaShanah is coming. I am so not ready.

The other day, someone remarked to me that Elul is coming early this year. I think he must have been joking; Elul comes early every year.

"G-d, please bring back my son"

[Note: My shiur on Rav Kook's "HaShofar", a poem which we discussed last week, is now on-line here.]

Rabbi Moshe Alshich's son left Judaism; the circumstances are not recorded, although someone has written on the Alshich's Wikipedia page that he was "taken" and he became Muslim. The Alshich asked the Ari z"l for help, and the Ari gave him a kabbalistic prayer to recite, for Gd to help his son return. As the story is told by the Ari z"l's main student, Rav Chaim Vital, the son returned to Judaism.

Of course, the idea of praying for others' repentance is basic to Judaism; we do it all the time, such as in the blessing in the amidah which asks Gd to bring us back in complete repentance. And yet, the idea of praying for an individual highlights what we are really doing: We are asking Gd to hijack people's hearts, to change their minds. [This is more troubling than asking Gd to hijack my own mind, in which case it is not truly an act of hijacking at all.]

This raises philosophical questions:
• What happened to Free Will?
• What happened to the talmudic dictum, "All is in the hands of Heaven, other than awe of Heaven"?
• Of what value is repentance which is not only catalyzed by, but actually performed by, Divine intervention?
• And a child of the modern age may well be offended: Who are you to judge others, and pray to Gd that they be reformed?

I intend to speak about this in a pre-Selichos shiur on the first night of Selichos; for now, the prayer itself appears below, as it appears in three editions with significant variations.


1. R' Chaim Vital, 16th century Tzefat, Shaar Ruach haKodesh, pg. 24b

יחוד א' להחזיר את הרשע בתשובה והוא להר״מ אלשיך זלה״ה על אודות בנו שנשתמד ולמד לו מורי זלה"ה שיכוין ליחוד הזה להשיבו בתשובה והועיל לו ושב לדת ישראל: כבר ידעת כי בברכת השיבנו אבינו לתורתך שבתפילת י״ח היא בבינה הנק׳ תשובה ולכן בהגיעך בברכה זו בתפלתך תאמר תפלה זו קודם החתימה: יהי רצון מלפניך ד' אלקינו ואלקי אבותינו שתחתור חתירה מתחת כסא כבודך ותקבל בתשובה את פב״פ כי ימינך פשוטה לקבל שבים בא״י הרוצה בתשובה

The first yichud is to return a wicked person in repentance. This was for Rav Moshe Alshich, regarding his son who had assimilated, and my master taught him to contemplate this yichud to return him in repentance. It was effective for him, and he returned to the religion of Israel.
You know that the blessing of "Return us, our Father, to Your Torah" in shemoneh esreih is in the emanation of Understanding, which is called Return, and so when you reach this blessing in your prayer, recite this prayer before the end: "May it be Your will, HaShem, our Gd and Gd of our ancestors, that You tunnel beneath Your throne of honour and receive the repentance of so-and-so, for Your right hand is extended to receive those who return. Blessed are You, Gd, who desires repentance."

2. R' Zvi Hirsh Kaidanover, 18th century Vilna, Kav haYashar 5

וזה יאות לכל בר ישראל להיות זוכה ומזכה לאחרים, ומכל שכן שצריך אדם להתפלל על רשעי הדור שיחזרו בתשובה, כדאיתא בגמרא בברכות בברוריה דביתהו דרבי מאיר שאמרה ״יתמו חטאים״ כתיב, ולא ׳חוטאים׳. על כן אסדר אני לפניך לכל איש ואשה לומר יהי רצון זה בברכת ״השיבנו אבינו לתורתך, וקרבנו מלכנו לעבודתך״, ויאמר: ״יהי רצון מלפניך ד׳ אלקינו ואלקי אבותינו שתחתור חתירה מתחת כסא כבודך לתשובת פלוני בן פלונית וכל העוברים על מצותיך, יהופך לבבם לעשות רצונך בלבב שלם, כי ימינך פשוטה לקבל שבים, והחזירנו בתשובה שלימה לפניך, בא״י הרוצה בתשובה״

This is good for every Jew, to earn merit and provide merit for others, and certainly one must pray for the wicked of the generation to repent, as is seen (Berachot 10a) that Beruriah, wife of R' Meir, said, "It is written, 'May sins end,' not 'May sinners end.'" Therefore, I will arrange for each man and woman to say this prayer in the blessing of, "Return us, our Father, to Your Torah, and bring us close, our King, to Your service."
He should say: May it be Your will, HaShem, our Gd and Gd of our ancestors, that You tunnel beneath Your throne of honour for the repentance of so-and-so and all who violate Your command. May their heart be reversed to perform Your will wholeheartedly, for Your right hand is extended to receive those who return. And return us with complete repentance before You. Blessed are You, Gd, who desires repentance.

3. R' Chaim Dovid Amar, 18th century Morocco, Tefillah l'Dovid, Hashiveinu #212, pg. 52a

כתב האר״י (שער היחודים דכ״ג ע״ג) מי שיש לו בן או אח או קרוב אחר ח״ו שהטה מדרך טובה לדרך רעה או שהלך לתרבות דעה, יתפלל בתפילת י״ח בברכה זו זה הנוסח, ואז מובטח שיהפוך לבו לטובה בעזה״י. וצריך להתפלל עכ״פ שלושים יום ערב ובקר וצהרים, ובפרט בימי אלול שאז הוא עת רצון, ומכ״ש על עצמו שצריך שיתפלל שיהפוך לבו לטובה. וז״ל: השיבנו אבינו לתורתך וקרבנו מלכנו לעבודתך והחזירנו בתשובה שלמה לפניך. יהי רצון מלפניך ד' אלקינו ואלקי אבותינו שתחתור חתירה מתחת כסא כבודך להחזיר בתשובה שלמה כל פושעי ישראל ובכללם תחזירני אני פב״פ ופב״פ בתשובה שלמה לפניך ד', כי ימינך ד' פשוטה לקבל שבים. ברוך אתה ד' הרוצה בתשובה.

The Ari wrote: "One who has a son or brother or other relative who has strayed from the good path to the bad or who is engaged in bad behaviour, Gd forbid, should pray this text in this blessing in shemoneh esreih. He can be certain that this will turn his heart for the good, with Gd's help. He must pray at least thirty days, evening and morning and afternoon, and especially during Elul, the time of desire. He certainly should pray thus for himself, that Gd turn his heart to the good.
This is the text: Return us, our Father, to Your Torah, and bring us close, our King, to Your service. And return us with complete repentance before You. May it be Your will, HaShem, our Gd and Gd of our ancestors, that You tunnel beneath Your throne of honour to bring back in complete repentance all of the sinners of Israel. Among them, return me, and so-and-so, with complete repentance before You, for Your right hand, Gd, is extended to receive those who return. Blessed are You, Gd, who desires repentance.

Michael Jordan and K'naan on Repentance

[Looks like Mashiach will have wireless - Israeli biblical park outfits donkeys with wireless routers]

"Failing is just an excuse for me to get better." – K'naan

"I've failed over and over and over again in my life and that is why I succeed." – Michael Jordan

In my mind, these quotes stand apart from traditional Jewish approaches to repentance because they convey the following rather arrogant messages:

1. I need only work harder in order to get where I need to go.
Failure is not about moral weakness or a demonstration of a flawed character requiring introspection and reconstruction of the self, but only a practical, technical error or non-achievement of a goal.

2. I need not appeal to a higher authority, or another party at all, for aid. It's all in my hands.
Contrast this with the classic Jewish idea of appealing to Gd for aid against the inclination toward sin, and the need for the assistance of mentors and peers in creating the right environment and incentives for growth.

3. I have already perfected myself after past failures, and can reflect on my growth from the perspective of success.
What Torah-based writer will refer to himself as having righted his wrongs and succeeded? What Jewish Jordan would ever present himself as a finished product?

And yet, I love these lines; they sit in a file that is always open on my computer, and they inspire me throughout the month of Elul. I love that arrogance, the assertion that it really is in my hands.

It's almost like Elazar ben Durdaya's recognition regarding his own repentance (Avodah Zarah 17a), אין הדבר תלוי אלא בי, "It depends only upon me," but stronger.

It ain't Rav Kook, but it works for me.

Remember!

An Elul thought I'm writing up for this week's Toronto Torah:

I've been thinking about the ways we depend on viduy (our recounting of sin) to help us repent. The more I think about it, the more I think that viduy is insufficient. To me, based on my own experience and the experiences reported by others, a healthy drive for growth requires both negative and positive motivation, lo taaseh and aseh, avoiding sin and drawing closer to G-d.

Our need for the two halves is evident in two complementary mitzvot which summon us to remember the Beit haMikdash, to motivate us to rebuild it: Zecher l'Mikdash requires us to relive its splendour, and Zecher l'Churban obligates us to recall its destruction. Envisioning the glory of our past and recognizing the decline of our present, we are motivated to return to greatness in the immediate future.

The Jew approaching Rosh haShanah and Yom Kippur often performs a Zecher l'Churban for himself, counting sins and deficiencies and so recognizing the decline of the present. We klop al cheit, day after day. But where is our Zecher l'Mikdash? Do we dedicate time to recall our heights, to relive the glory days of our righteous relationship with G-d? Months we spent in yeshiva or seminary, years of training our children in mitzvot, the time we spent writing checks for tzedakah or tuition, learning with a chavruta, helping our spouses, volunteering for community organizations, taking care of our parents, these are our Mikdash!

As we approach the days of judgment of mercy, may we perform both the Zecher l'Churban and Zecher l'Mikdash for ourselves, and so be motivated to return to greatness in the coming year.

The Relief of the Shofar

This was a first for me: When the shofar blew after davening on Wednesday morning, I felt a real wave of relief.

Yes, relief.

I normally put my tallis over my head before the shofar is blown, and wait to feel two changes: A humbling as I face judgment, and an increase in stress about that coming judgment. Today, the start of Elul, had the first of those two changes, but instead of stress, I felt relief.

Part of that relief was because I am no longer a shul rabbi. Elul's Shofar does not mean, "You are facing a gauntlet of three-day Yamim Tovim, you need to write 15 derashos, boy are you in trouble!" So a world of stress is gone from my shoulders.

And, Wednesday's shofar brought me relief because it is the starter's gun for real reform. I have spent weeks and months thinking about things I should be doing differently – but now the season has begun for implementing those changes. Think of it as "nesting" for the soul.

And a big part of it is that I welcome the arrival of these High Holy Days because they bring with them the world of honest emotion.

The intellectual pursuits of Torah study, teaching and debating, can be beautiful and inspiring, but they can also be depressingly empty. It is easy to be tempted into the superficial. It is easy to learn without the intensity required for long-term memory. It is easy to get caught up in making arguments to prove a pilpulish point, to explain an idea that is known to be incorrect, to determine that an author was consistent in his incorrect conception. It is easy to invest hours are in pursuing a reading that is not followed in practice, because it was the reading used by a particular scholar. It is easy to become involved in the pursuit of knowledge for all the wrong reasons - to demonstrate personal greatness, to defeat others.

In discussions of philosophy, unfounded doubts may be raised about fundamental elements of faith and unfounded assertions may be made in defense of those fundamental elements of faith. Theories are sometimes proposed even though their proponents themselves don't trust them, and archaic constructions explored even though the ideas involved have long since been discredited. I find that wearying.

Emotion, on the other hand, is honest and substantive and large to me, and real regardless of its stimuli and motivations. The crying of grief; the joy of a birth; the laughter and smiles of people enjoying each other's company; the love of a couple or of parents and children – to mangle a line attributed to Rav Chaim Brisker, "You can shlug up [refute] a dvar torah, but you can't shlug up the human heart." You can't shlug up humility, or tears, or commitment to improvement.

So Elul's shofar siren that summons us to self-analysis, to humility, to honesty, to regret, is welcome. Even though I know I will find myself short in many areas, I prefer that.

Selichos Haiku Rant

Okay, it's a little cynical... sorry. I do get a lot out of the words of Slichos. It's just that some of the other elements make it difficult.

I rise for Slichos
before first light, day’s re-birth
the dawn of return

I rise for Slichos
limning the day’s fresh slate with
pious commitment

I rise for Slichos
b'Ashmores haBoker
tie's knot like tzitzis

I rise for Slichos
socks don't match, surprised shoes do
left home without phone

I rise for Slichos
shul skips half the piyyutim
so unforgiven

I rise for Slichos
traverse tangled tongue twisters
catch speeding chazan

I rise for Slichos
cry Ashamnu, Bagadnu
transmute sleep to guilt

I rise for Slichos
in haste water bottle lost
spend the day in thirst

I rise for Slichos
clouded thinking, slow to grasp,
mind mired in drowse

I rise for Slichos
sleep-deprived, temper shortened
what is wrong with me?

I rise for Slichos
pre-dawn prayers change my world -
ruin night seder

I rose for Slichos
before first light, day’s re-birth
what a bust it was.

Rosh haShanah: Sunset or Rainbow?

[This week's Haveil Havalim is here]

Ever since my days in yeshiva in Israel, Elul has been a long month of introspection and preparation for Rosh Hashanah, a mix of awe and anxiety, a little asceticism and, perhaps, some degree of neurosis. The longer I go in Elul without conducting a full cheshbon hanefesh [spiritual accounting], the more nervous I become. I’m not ready, I won’t be ready, I need to make sure I haven’t missed any opportunity to fix things, and so on. [I know that doesn’t sound healthy, but I find it actually is healthy for me. Concentrating on these issues for a specific, intense period of time helps me, even if it’s not for everyone.]

In truth, though, Jewish law allows us to walk into Rosh Hashanah cold.

Indeed, for many good Jews Elul is a period of getting back from the summer, putting the kids in school, going back to a work grind, grasping the last days of sun and warmth, anything but introspection. They may go to minyan and hear shofar, they might say Selichos, but the first time they really stop and say, “What has this year been like?” is when the chazan starts that unique Yamim Noraim tune for Borchu.

Going by the letter of Jewish law, that’s fine. But how can that be a ‘real’ Yamim Noraim? Where is the opportunity for teshuvah? If Elul is really meant to be prep time for Rosh haShanah/Aseres Yemei Teshuvah/Yom Kippur, why is there no prescribed observance beyond our customs of shofar and selichos?

Should Rosh haShanah be a planned spiritual experience, like the beautiful sunset you know is coming and which you can prepare to watch with a picnic blanket and a sketchpad or a camera and a friend? Or should the opening notes of Borchu be a surprise, like a stunning rainbow you encounter after a bend in the highway, just after you emerge from the shadow of a mountain?

I can see advantages in both, of course. On the simplest level: Preparation enables a deeper transformative experience, but Spontaneity can take you by surprise and present a new way to see the world. And there is much more to say here, of course.

I thought about the question this year when we read Vaeschanan, as I noticed the difference between the Torah’s two descriptions of run-up to Matan Torah [the presentation of the Torah] at Sinai:

Parshas Yisro, Shemos 19 – The Jews arrive at Sinai on Rosh Chodesh Sivan, Moshe shuttles back and forth between them and Gd for six days with messages about their preparation to receive the Torah, spouses separate from each other for three days (one of which Moshe adds on his own, apparently), mikvah and korban and bris milah and so on, followed by clouds and thunder and lightning and a loud shofar. Major preparation.

Parshas Vaeschanan, Devarim 5 – No preparation. HaShem spoke to you at Sinai, and this is what you heard.

You can decide to tell the story with or without the six-day lead-in, but your decision changes the story entirely. In Yisro it’s a story of preparation for kedushah [sanctity] followed by the experience and message from Gd. In Vaeschanan it’s a story of the message from Gd, period.

Rosh HaShanah can be like Yisro and the sunset – a month of build-up, of preparation, followed by a sublime experience. Or it can be like Vaeschanan, the sublime, rainbowish experience itself. We are offered either option.

Our sages counselled preparation, and hence the shofar and the selichos, but they stopped short of legislating it, perhaps because they understood that preparation has its drawbacks, too. To some extent, we need to be taken by surprise.

And perhaps a greater message, beyond Rosh haShanah, is that a Jew should seek holiness and inspiration in both forms. In day to day life, we should look for holiness in both the sudden and the process, the spontaneous and the scheduled, the pre-programmed sunset and the rainbow startling us around the next turn on the highway, and learn to take advantage of both.

Rav Kook on Teshuvah: Healthy, Natural and Guaranteed

As noted here, I've been learning Rav Kook's Orot haTeshuvah in Elul.

Drawing on sources from Tanach, Gemara and Kabbalah, Rav Avraham Yitzchak haKohen Kook taught that teshuvah is more than a mechanical, three-step method of admitting, correcting and abandoning our sins. As Rav Kook described it, Teshuvah is a glittering thread woven into the fabric of the universe, a natural longing for righteousness, and an engine inexorably moving all of Creation toward the original Divine vision of perfection.

Here are several key passages from Orot haTeshuvah, Rav Kook’s landmark work describing the nature of Teshuvah. The translation is almost linear; the original Hebrew is available at http://www.hebrewbooks.org/31307.


Teshuvah is guaranteed:
The world is guaranteed to come to full repentance. The world is not static; it continues to develop. True, complete development must bring about total physical and spiritual health, which will bring with it the light of the life of teshuvah. (Orot haTeshuvah 5:3)

Teshuvah comes from the longing of the entire universe to become better and more pure, stronger and more elevated than its current state. At the core of this drive is a life-force that triumphs over the limited, weak character of natural existence. The repentance of an individual, and certainly of the community, draws its strength from this life-force, which flows unceasingly, at full strength. (Orot haTeshuvah 6:1)

Teshuvah always resides in the heart; even at the moment of sin, the impulse for teshuvah is hidden in the soul, radiating influence which will be revealed later, with the arrival of the regret that calls for teshuvah. Teshuvah resides in the depths of existential life, for it preceded the universe, and before sin arrives its teshuvah is already prepared. Therefore, nothing in this universe is as certain as teshuvah, and, ultimately, all will be repaired. (Orot haTeshuvah 6:2)


Teshuvah is a natural product of health and maturity:
The desire for teshuvah is a person’s most healthy spiritual desire. A healthy soul in a healthy body is compelled to achieve the great bliss of teshuvah, experiencing in it the greatest natural pleasure.

A properly functioning body removes harmful materials, thereby improving and healing the body. One who is spiritually and physically healthy will remove evil deeds and the evil, corrupt impressions they produce, every evil thought, and the distance from Divine influence which founds all evil, crudeness and ugliness. (Orot haTeshuvah 5:1)


Teshuvah is a process of developing our potential:
A person’s life is perfected by developing his inherent character. However, one’s still-undeveloped character lacks insight, and so sin is guaranteed along this path of development. “There is no righteous person in the land who will commit good and not sin. [Kohelet 7:20]” On the other hand, eliminating one’s natural character in order to prevent sin is itself the greatest sin, [regarding which the Torah says of the nazir in Bamidbar 6:11,] “He shall atone for his sin against life.”

Therefore, Teshuvah repairs one’s corruption and restores the world and this person’s life to its root, specifically by helping the inherent character to develop. (Orot haTeshuvah 5:6)


The potential for Teshuvah is always present:
Even if a person consistently stumbles, damaging his righteousness and ethical behavior, this does not damage his fundamental perfection. A person’s fundamental perfection is found in his longing and desire to achieve perfection, a desire which is the foundation of teshuvah, and which continually governs his path in life. (Orot haTeshuvah 5:5)


The rewards of Teshuvah:
With every aspect of ugliness banished from a person’s soul upon his internal commitment to teshuvah, whole worlds are revealed, in celestial clarity, in the midst of his soul. Removal of sin is like removal of a blinder from above an eye, such that the full field of vision is now revealed, a light from the breadth of heaven, earth and all they contain. (Orot haTeshuvah 5:2)

Rav Kook says: Teshuvah. It's guaranteed.

I've been learning Rav Kook's Orot haTeshuvah this Elul. In honor of Rav Kook's 75th Yahrtzeit, observed today [and see my Canadian Jewish News article in his honor], I want to quote three lines.

From his introduction:

התשובה היא תופסת את החלק היותר גדול בתורה ובחיים, עליה בנויות כל התקוות האישיות והציבוריות

Teshuvah [repentance] occupies the greatest portion of Torah and Life, and upon it are founded all of the hopes of the individual and the community.

From Perek 5:

העולם מוכרח הוא לבא לידי תשובה שלימה

The universe is compelled to come to complete teshuvah.

And, most powerfully, from Perek 6:

אין דבר בטוח בעולם כמו התשובה

Nothing in this universe is as certain as teshuvah.

I cry when I read this sentences. Okay, I cry easily, but still - I haven't been this moved by a Torah text since the first time I read Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch.

Rav Kook spends a lot of time on the mystical character of teshuvah - how it ties into the fundamental nature of the universe, why it is necessary, how it influences one's actions in the past as well as the future - but he doesn't use mystical jargon. I find it inspiring, very readable, and very worthwhile.

I'm embarrassed it's taken me this long to learn it כסדר.

The calming effect of a cheshbon hanefesh [self-accounting]

I have been in a lot of turmoil over the past couple of weeks.

Part of that turmoil came from anticipating today’s date – the third yahrtzeit of a beloved friend. It doesn’t help that the calendar is the same this year, as it was when he was killed in a car crash three years ago. It was a Shabbos, the Shabbos before Selichos, just like today. I walked past his house today. I remember every detail like it was happening right now. I’ve been dreading this day for weeks.

And part came from the doings of my own foolishness. I am exposed to lashon hara all the time, listening to people’s complaints about other people and about institutions and telling myself that I can’t accept these words at face value – and I’m usually pretty good at it. But this week I listened to someone and it sank in as Truth, and the result in my own actions was very ugly. It will take quite a bit of time and effort to get past this political mess.

And part of the turmoil, of course, came from this being Elul, and from working on speeches and classes, etc, as we have discussed, and from going without sleep in order to get all of that done.

And part came from anticipating tonight’s job of doing a cheshbon hanefesh, accounting for my mistakes of the past year and of past years, apologizing and repenting and trying to figure out how to move on from there.

Well, tonight, while waiting for chatzot [halachic midnight] and Selichot, I wrote up my accounting… and the surprising result was a real feeling of calm, my first in a while.

I looked at my list from last year, and – as always – had very, very little to remove. And I had a couple of items to add. So the calm doesn’t come from any sense that I’ve done better than in the past.

It doesn’t come from feeling, “I haven’t gotten much worse,” either.

For the most part, it just comes from feeling much more under control, much more like I know what I am doing, what I still have to do. I feel like I understand where I have messed up, and what I can do about it.

I still have to work on my list of תקנות for this year, things I plan to do differently, to reduce my problems and flaws. That will come over the next few days, I hope.

And then, Gd-willing, the וידוי (personal admission of sin) and, we hope and pray, an inscription and sealing for a good year.

Elul Panic Attack

I am so not ready to answer for my mistakes.		I am so not ready to give ten zillion speeches in a month.
I am so not ready to end my arrogance.		I am so not ready to convince others to end theirs.
I am so not ready to admit all of my ulterior motives.		I rely on those ulterior motives to drive much that I do.
I spent far too much time on shul and community this year, when I should have spent it on family.		I did not spend enough time this year taking care of the indigent and the emotionally needy.
I am afraid to sit down and write my cheshbon hanefesh.		I have no time for a cheshbon hanefesh, even had I the guts.
I long to spend more time with my children, both because I want to and because I should, because they need a father who will be there with them and because they need an Abba who will teach them.		I jitter in my chair, my knee jumping, as I try to assemble ideas into paragraphs to say something new, to inspire, to direct, to convey the awe of judgment without haranguing my shul into boredom.
I often think that my saving grace as a human being is my sincerity, the fact that I lay it all out there with as much honesty as I can find inside. The challenge of parenting is to find a way to take all of that authenticity and express it in a way that will help my children find their own.		I often think that my saving grace as a rabbi is my sincerity, the fact that I lay it all out there with as much honesty as I can find inside. The challenge of speechwriting is to find a way to take all of that authenticity and express it in a way that will challenge and not tear down, build and not destroy.
Some people tell me I am a great father, seeing my beautiful - thank Gd - children and the way they behave so nicely in public, sitting by my side in shul and doing well in school. But in this they rob my wife of the credit which is entirely hers, and inappropriately credit me for the work of another.		Some people call me their favorite rabbi (I kid you not) and other inappropriately laudatory names, measuring with the naked eye, all too willing to judge on the side of merit and go by what they see. I know they only mean to judge what they see and nothing more, but it is still frustrating to know they miss the שלא לשמה self-aggrandizement, the insecurity, the many inappropriate motivations which make Mordechai run.

I do believe I am a better person, and a better rabbi, than I was one year ago. Some would call this a significant accomplishment, and I do not belittle it. But I can do more - not to quote Barack Obama, but I am better than this.

I need to feel that drive to do more. Elul ceases to be frightening for me when I get past the regret and move into moving on, when I stop feeling sorry for my challenges and commit myself to specific action. It will come. Hopefully soon.