Hashiveini Ve'ashuvah
by Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz
In one
of the Al Cheit confessions that we recite on Yom Kippur, we beg
forgiveness “al cheit shechatanu lefonecha besimhon leivov,” for the
sins we committed through confusion of the heart.
Why do
we need to ask forgiveness for sins that are caused by confusion? Why are they
not onsim, accidental mistakes, from which the Torah absolves us?
The
answer is given by way of a parable. Imagine a man traveling on his boat. A
vicious wave tips the boat and throws the man into the water. After initially
flailing about, he summons his inner strength and swims to the shore. When he
reaches safety, he realizes that in the confusion and turmoil, he forgot his
Rolex watch on his boat and that he will never see it again. Obviously, the man
is easily forgiven for forgetting about his watch under those conditions.
Now
imagine that the man is thrown from his boat by a strong wave, and after
swimming ashore, he realizes that he swam to safety without thinking about
saving his wife who was traveling with him. In all the tumult, he forgot about
her. The act of forgetfulness in such a situation is unforgivable. Their
relationship doesn’t allow for forgetting.
At Har
Sinai, we forged a relationship with Hashem that endures through blood and
fire, in good times and bad. Ki anu amecha ve’Atah Elokeinu. There is no
exclusion in times of confusion. We seek to live with that reality, pledging
allegiance to the ideal and embodying it. Emunah and bitachon are
our lifeblood.
The
emotional high point of the tefillos of the Yomim Noraim follows
the gripping prayer of Unesaneh Tokef, when the entire shul cries
out, “Useshuvah usefillah utzedakah maavirin es ro’a hagezeirah!”
Teshuvah, tefillah and tzedakah have the power to overturn a ruinous
judgment. But how exactly does this work? What is so unique about these three
activities that they can reverse a Divine verdict?
Rav Zvi
Schvartz from Rechovot once asked me what the difference is between a person
who is a kofer and a person who is a ma’amin. The answer, he
said, is gratitude. A kofer, at his core, is a kofui tov,
whereas a ma’amin is a makir tov.
The
conversation prompted me to gain an insight into the manner in which teshuvah,
tefillah and tzedakah are intrinsically related, and how they are
able to neutralize an evil decree.
Rav
Schvartz’s comment is packed with profound insight. A kofer cannot
acknowledge a Supreme Ruler of the world, because that would imply indebtedness
to a Force other than his own intelligence and strength. In his arrogance, he
is convinced that he is totally self-sufficient. He is subservient to no one.
Jews who
sin are contrasted with animals, as the posuk states, “Yoda shor
koneihu vachamor eivus b’alav, Yisroel lo yoda, ami lo hisbonan.” Even an
animal recognizes its master, who feeds it and cares for it, the posuk
states. Am Yisroel, when sinning, doesn’t recognize the G-d Who cares
for them.
A ma’amin
knows that he was placed in this world by Hashem, Who cares for him and
sustains him. He knows that his life and his livelihood are gifts, and that
every aspect of his existence, including his environment, social standing and
day-to-day accomplishments, come from Hashem. The awareness that he owes all of
life’s blessings to the One Above stimulates constant gratefulness and
appreciation.
A ma’amin
wakes up in the morning and says, “Modeh Ani, thank You, Hashem, for
giving me another day of life.” He davens and says, “Modim, I
thank You for all Your miracles, wonders and favors that sustain me.” He sits
down to breakfast, thanking Hashem both before and after he eats. Gratitude to
Hashem for another 24 hours of life and hope for His continued munificence set
the tone for the rest of his day.
He
doesn’t permit his ego to block his awareness of his dependence on his Creator.
He doesn’t feel diminished as a human being when he expresses appreciation to
Hashem for His guiding Hand in every facet of life.
He is
not too conceited to recognize that there is Someone above him Who watches over
him and cares for him. It doesn’t hurt his ego to be thankful every waking
moment. And since he knows that Hashem sustains him, he knows that Hashem
created the world and he knows that he must follow the commandments that Hashem
laid out in the Torah in order for him to thrive in this world.
Both as
appreciation to Hashem for all of the kindness He extends to us and because he
recognizes that the Creator has placed us here for a purpose, the believer
engages in teshuvah in order to bring himself closer to his Maker. Hakoras
hatov is an integral part of his personality, and he understands that if
for no other reason than hakoras hatov, he has to keep the mitzvos.
For a ma’amin,
hakoras hatov sparks a readiness to reciprocate in some small measure by
upholding the Torah and clinging to its laws. But just as important, hakoras
hatov inspires teshuvah. It generates the desire to purify oneself,
strengthen one’s faith, and come closer to the One Who protects and nurtures.
Thus, as
Rosh Hashanah approaches, the ma’amin intensifies his efforts to
do teshuvah in order to please his Maker to the greatest extent
possible. He does this out of a sense of appreciation for the good he has
received and the recognition that the One Who nourishes him has set a code for
him to live by.
How does
a person arrive at teshuvah? Doing so requires conducting a serious cheshbon
hanefesh. A person must subject his deepest self to intense scrutiny,
seriously reviewing every aspect of his conduct. But that is only half the
battle.
Once we
have performed a painstaking self-assessment, we have to internalize and apply
what we’ve discovered. We have to set about correcting our character flaws, and
rectifying the mistakes and errors of judgment we made.
The
process, when performed correctly, can be excruciating. After going through it,
we emerge changed people. It is not enough to beat our chests and
klap al cheit. We have to actually change our psyches and adopt different
behaviors. The teshuvah process has to humble every being as it reminds
him of his proper place in creation and prompts a greater appreciation of
Hashem’s role in his life.
Teshuvah brings
us back to where we were before we sinned. It sets us on the path we should
have been on all along and gives us the energy we need to do it right this
time.
Teshuvah
triggers an outpouring of sincere tefillah. Tefillah is a natural
outgrowth of teshuvah. With a fresh awareness of how small and helpless
we really are in the face of life’s frightening precariousness comes a
spontaneous outpouring of tefillah, on three levels. We proclaim
Hashem’s supremacy over all of existence, we thank Him for His daily
kindnesses, and we beg that we merit His continued generosity.
We pray
for His salvation from all our troubles, individually and collectively, and for
a year of health, happiness and success.
Middos
tovos and proper ethics are prerequisites for teshuvah,
for if a person is conceited, he will never come to recognize that it is not
his “koach ve’otzem yado” that support his lifestyle, and it is not his
superior intelligence that earns him his living. Rather, he is dependent upon a
Higher Power for all he has. Tikkun hamiddos and proper ethics are
prerequisites for teshuvah.
A man
once arrived in the yeshiva of Kelm. The person sitting next to him
during davening noticed that at the portions of davening that called
for the return of the Shechinah to Tzion, the distinguished-looking
visitor uttered the words with great devotion. During the portion of davening
requesting personal sustenance, however, the person rushed through the prayers.
The talmid who observed this conduct discussed it with the Alter of
Kelm.
The
Alter explained that the person, despite his impressive outer appearance, was
in fact not really a great ma’amin. “In matters pertaining to himself,”
said the Alter, “he believes that he controls his life, arranges his own
success, and doesn’t require G-d’s help. In areas outside of his realm, he
prays for Hashem to bring about the changes everyone is awaiting.”
As long
as a person continues to believe in “kochi ve’otzem yodi,” that his success
is due to his superior intelligence, his ga’avah will render him
incapable of repenting. He will be unable to reach the level of understanding
required to draw himself closer to his Master, and he will wallow in sin and
self-indulgence even as he goes through the motions of religiosity.
A person
with an untamed ego will not be able to thoroughly examine himself and his
actions in order to repent. His ego will blind him from recognizing that he is
not in charge and that he has to subjugate himself to his Creator.
How
often does it happen that you try to show someone the truth about something
and, despite the absolute clarity, the person refuses to listen? You patiently
work through an issue, take it apart piece by piece, and reconstruct it to
forcefully drive home the truth, all to no avail, because the person you are
trying to reason with can’t sidestep his ego and view the matter objectively.
Ga’avah is one
of the yeitzer hora’s favorite tools. It prevents a person from
comprehending what is obvious to everyone else. It derails a person from
properly preparing for Rosh Hashanah and from becoming a special person.
In the
face of the yeitzer hora’s constant maneuvers, we have to throw our
energies into seeking strategies to offset the many challenges that prevent us
from becoming better people. One of the most effective strategies, the Gemara
tells us, is chochmah.
The posuk
in Mishlei states, “Emor lechochmah achosi at.” The Gemara
in Maseches Brachos (17a) explains that the ultimate purpose of chochmah
is teshuvah and maasim tovim.
In order
to overcome the roadblocks put in place by the yeitzer hora, we have to
strengthen our ability to use chochmah. Only with chochmah can we
subdue the yeitzer, as the posuk (Mishlei 24) states, “Betachbulos
ta’aseh lecha milchamah,” in fighting your enemy - the yeitzer hora
- you have to use chochmah to outwit him.
Chochmah is
acquired by learning sifrei mussar, which touch our inner core and put
us back on course, following the literal translation of the word teshuvah,
to return.
Another
powerful weapon available to us is embedded in the Yom Hadin itself. The
Gemara (Rosh Hashanah 11a) states that Rosh Hashanah is
the day on which Yosef was freed from the Egyptian jail, as well as the
day that marked the end of crushing slavery for the Jews in Mitzrayim. Thus, in
addition to being a day of judgment, Rosh Hashanah is also a day of
redemption. On this day, we can all be released from enslavement to the yeitzer
hora and to the web of desires that ensnares us. The avodas hayom
and the day’s built-in redemptive power can return us to an earlier, more
ennobled state.
Once a
person reaches that higher level of spiritual awareness brought on by teshuvah,
he realizes that he is not superior to other people, who were created just as
he was, b’tzelem Elokim. His eyes open to the plight of the many people
in this world who are in need of assistance, evoking his sympathy and
compassion. As part of the spiritual growth triggered by teshuvah and tefillah,
he has a growing awareness that it is not enough to care for himself and
satisfy his own indulgences. He must share his blessings with others.
Ga’avah
prevents a person from helping others. An arrogant individual looks down upon
others and views them askance, with a measure of scorn and hate. His negative middah
keeps him from using his gifts to help others. He looks down upon them and
views them as somehow deficient, and inferior to himself.
Once the
baal teshuvah repents, however, he becomes a makir tov to the Ribono
Shel Olam and thus proves that his convictions have been corrected and his
priorities straightened out. He has come to recognize that he is not
all-powerful, and that he is dependent upon the grace of Hashem for his wisdom,
wealth, health and happiness. He has attained a new level of contentment
reserved for those who are humble and walk in the path of Hashem.
This
thought echoes the oft-repeated comment of Rav Yisroel of Salant that the way
to prevail on the Yom Hadin is to behave selflessly, helping and giving
to others, and becoming involved in improving the klal. A
communal-minded person indicates via his altruism and benevolence that he
recognizes his mission: to emulate Hashem by being a giver. A baal tzedokah
who conducts himself lesheim Shomayim is, in essence, the truest
manifestation of a makir tov.
When
teshuvah, tefillah and tzedakah flow naturally, a person
indicates that he has reached the level of observance required to prevail in
the din of Rosh Hashanah. Thus, with our hearts focused on
implementing the lessons embedded in these words, we proclaim, “Useshuvah
usefillah utzedakah maavirin es ro’a hagezeirah.”
We
endeavor to reach that lofty level and find favor in Hashem’s eyes, so that He
will bless us all with a kesivah vachasimah tovah.
But then
there are those of us who, as hard as they try, feel that they have not been
able to return to the desired pure and exalted state. What are they to do?
Should they give up? Is it possible that teshuvah wasn’t meant for them?
My dear
friend, Rav Simcha Bunim Cohen, reminded me that the novi Yirmiyahu
speaks to such people in the haftorah we read on the second day of Rosh
Hashanah.
The novi
proclaims (Yirmiyahu 31:17), “Shamoa shomati Efraim misnodeid. I
have heard Efraim moaning. He is saying, ‘Yisartani va’ivaseir
k’eigel lo lumod, You have rebuked me and I have accepted Your punishment
like an untrained calf. Hashiveini ve’ashuvah ki Atah Hashem Elokoy.
Bring me back and I shall return.’”
The Bais
Haleivi, in his peirush al haTorah, in Parshas Vayishlach, as
an addendum printed on the bottom of the page, offers a fascinating explanation
of the posuk. He says that Klal Yisroel asks Hashem to help us
return to Him with teshuvah. We say that we are k’eigel lo lomud,
like an uneducated calf.
When a
cow is plowing a row in a field, or pulling a wagon, and it veers off course,
the farmer or the driver whips it and it returns to the path it is meant to be
on. That is only if the cow has previously plowed or pulled a wagon. Since it
knows where it should be and the job that is required of it, if it is punished
for going the wrong way, it can rectify itself.
But if
the cow is untrained, has never plowed, or never pulled a wagon on a road, then
as much as you whip it, the cow won’t do what is demanded of it. In fact, if it
is whipped, it is liable to run even faster in the wrong direction, requiring
the owner to work even harder to return it to the furrow.
The Bais
Haleivi explains that we say to Hashem, “Please don’t whip us. Don’t punish
us, for we know not of what we do. We have received so many punishments and
reminders to adhere to the proper path, but we are untrained and lost. Hashiveini.
Please, Hashem, bring me back. Return me to the proper path, without the whip.
Show me the way; where I should be going and how I should behave, ve’ashuvah,
and I will return and remain on the path You have charted for me.”
Teshuvah is for
everyone. We all want to return to Torah and behave as Hashem intended. At
times, it is difficult for us to right ourselves and we require painful
reminders.
There is
a concept in halachah of kofin oso ad sheyomer rotzeh ani (Rambam,
Hilchos Geirushin, 2:20). Even if Jew proclaims that he does not want to
follow halachah, if he is beaten and submits and declares that he will
do what is incumbent upon him, we accept his declaration. The Rambam
(ibid.) explains that “rotzeh hu la’asos kol hamitzvos ulehisracheik min
ha’aveiros, veyitzro hu shetakfo, vekivon shehukah ad shetoshash yitzro veomer
rotzeh ani…” Every Jew, says the Rambam, intrinsically wants to
observe the mitzvos, but his yeitzer hora overcomes him.
Therefore, when his evil inclination is beaten down and the person says that he
wants to do the mitzvah, we accept his declaration as if he willingly
observed the halachah.
Everyone
essentially wants to do teshuvah and return to Hashem’s embrace, but
some find it difficult to overcome their habits and the yeitzer hora,
which leads them astray. They feel so removed from kedushah and Torah
that they feel they can never rid themselves of their addictions. If they would
only call out, “Hashiveini! Hashem, help me. Bring me back,” then ve’ashuvah,
they would be able to return. No one should ever give up on themselves, and we
should never give up on anyone.
We must
remember that people are inherently good. If people have fallen into lives of
darkness, we should be there for them. Hashiveini ve’ashuvah. The day
will come when they will return to a life of light. We pray that their return
is not dependent on whipping and other punishments.
I was
discussing this concept last week with my friend, Rav Eliezer Sorotzkin, who
heads Lev L’Achim, and he shared an insight. We all know that Elul is an
acronym of the words Ani LeDodi VeDodi Li, which appear in Shir
Hashirim (6:3). The complete posuk reads, “Ani leDodi veDodi li
haroeh bashoshanim,” which is literally translated as, “I am my
Uncle’s and my Uncle is mine, the shepherd with the roses.”
What
does it mean? Chazal use the acronym to explain that Hashem is
especially close to his beloved nation during the month of Elul. He is
our shepherd and we are his flock. But shepherds use different methods to keep
their sheep together and to lead them where they have to go. Some strike them
when they veer off the path. Some throw sticks at them to keep the flock
together. Some send dogs after them. Others shout at them. Some throw stones to
scare the sheep.
But then
there is the loving shepherd who sits under a shady tree and plays the flute.
The sheep gather around him and follow his melody. Such a shepherd is referred
to as a roeh bashoshanim, herding the flock with roses and love.
We
proclaim that Hashem is especially close to us during the month of Elul,
guiding and leading us as a roeh bashoshanim.
We turn
to Him and plead: Please don’t strike us. Don’t afflict us. Don’t send Hamas,
ISIS or Iran to remind us who we are and what we should be doing. Please don’t
have the government enact harsh decrees so that we will be chastised in order
to return to the proper path. Heal the sick, cure the wounded and empower the
weak, and lead us with a flute, not a stick. Show us the correct path with
roses, not stones.
Hashiveini
ve’ashuvah. Lead us back, Hashem. Bring us into Your
embrace and inscribe us in the Book of Life.
Kesivah
vachasimah tovah to all.
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