We read in Parshas Bereishis that Adam and Chava partook of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge – although Hashem had expressly forbidden them to do so – and they were subsequently expelled from Gan Eden.
The medrash relates that after his expulsion, Adam was inspired to do teshuva. He went to the River Gichon and immersed in the waters up to his neck. He fasted intermittently for seven weeks until he was weak and thin. He then begged Hashem, “I know that I sinned before You when I was privileged to be in Gan Eden. Please forgive my sin and accept my repentance, and all the creations will know that You are close to all who call out to You.”
Our sages teach us that charata – regret – is one of the main components of sincere teshuva. When Hashem saw their contrition and misgiving, He had mercy on Adam and Chava and forgave them. Hashem promised them that although they had been banished from Gan Eden, He would never forsake them and would love them forever, through all the travails they might experience. Hashem said, “I know that your lives will be bitter, and for this reason I give you this jewel from My treasure house – a tear. When you are troubled and in pain, a tear will fall from your eye and your grief will be diminished.” Upon hearing these words, the eyes of Adam and Chava welled with tears that fell to the ground. These tears were left as an inheritance for all generations to alleviate their despair and sorrow.
After Adam did teshuva, Hashem also dressed him in the clothing of the Kohen Gadol. These were intended to give chizuk (encouragement) to Adam, to indicate that Hashem still cared for him and loved him. Dressed in these garments, Adam brought sacrifices to Hashem.
The significance of reading this parsha at the very beginning of the new year is clear. During the month of Elul, and through the Yomim Noraim, man is extremely careful to remain true to his resolutions to improve. However, once we resume our regular routine, the individual sometimes slips up, and he then becomes dejected because he feels he has failed.
One must keep in mind, though, that it is specifically at this time – when the person has been cleansed from sin – that the Evil Inclination is motivated to intrude. it doesn’t mean that the person is not on a high level spiritually, nor does it mean that he is not a good person, or that he is not desirous of being close to Hashem. Rather, it indicates that the individual has great potential, which can also make him more vulnerable to stumble. In fact, the Talmud (Succah 52a), “Anyone who is greater than another, his Evil Inclination is greater than his.”
Adam HaRishon was so exalted that the angels wanted to sing his praises as they did for Hashem, yet he fell very low into sin and changed the course of humanity forever. Nevertheless, Hashem forgave Adam.
It was a Shabbos morning in Breslov, and harmonious voices of tefillah emanated from all the shuls. In another part of town, the factories’ machines were humming, shops were open, and the citizenry were all busy at work, with no awareness at all that it was the day of Shabbos.
As a bookkeeper, worked diligently on his accounts, some ink spilled on his fingers without his knowledge, leaving a very unsightly stain. When he finished his work, though, he went out and began to walk towards the Jewish Quarter. The pintele Yid was unusually drawn to join the prayers, and he entered one of the shuls.
A congregant immediately recognized him as a non-observant Jew, and quickly chased him out. The bookkeeper tried entering another shul, but the gabbai came over to him and warned him in no uncertain terms to stay out.
The Jew wandered from place to place, and eventually went into the bais haknesses of the chasidei Breslov, under the leadership of R’ Nosson of Nemirov, R’ Nachman’s primary student and scribe. There no one harassed him. However, when the congregation recited the Mussaf kedusha – Keser Yitnu Lecha – they enthusiastically raised their hands in the air, the non-observant Jew along with them, and his ink-stained hands were visible to all who were present.
The congregants wanted to throw him out of the shul, but R’ Nosson cried out, “Don’t do anything! There is obviously a very good reason he came in.” When the bookkeeper saw that they didn’t bother him, he continued to return to R’ Nosson’s bais medrash. Little by little, he drew closer to the chassidim. He eventually did complete teshuva, and became a G-d-fearing man who loved Hashem.
Forty years later, as he sat in his seat in the bais medrash, he heard some of the young chassidim talking among themselves, bemoaning their difficulties in earning a livelihood. One of the men speculated that he was considering traveling to Uman to pray at the gravesite of R’ Nachman.
The now-elderly Jew could not hold himself back from commenting. “You’re thinking of traveling to Uman for parnassah? I’ve been going to Rabbeinu for forty years for Rosh Hashanah, and never once did I ask for a livelihood.”
The older chassidim standing around in the bais medrash who remembered the bookkeeper from many years back were astounded. It was apparent that R’ Nosson had already recognized the greatness of this individual. He had understood back then that this Yid was a jewel that had fallen into the dirt. All that was needed was to clean it off, to wash it off, to shine it and replace it in the crown of the king.
