The central theme of Yom Kippur is teshuvah, commonly translated as “repentance.” We hear so much about this term. What, in fact, does it truly mean?
On the simplest behavioral level, writes Maimonides, teshuvah involves “returning” to a situation in which one had previously failed, and not making the same mistake a second time. It means being given a second chance.
No wonder Yom Kippur has elements of joy: We celebrate being given a second chance. In too many of life’s pursuits we are given only one shot. If we miss, it’s all over. On Yom Kippur God says, “No matter if you have failed before; you can still return.”
A chassid once asked his rebbe, “Why pray on Yom Kippur? After all, we’ll inevitably sin again.” In response, the rebbe asked him to look out the window.
“What do you see?” asked the master. “A child, standing and falling,” replied the disciple. Day after day the chassid returned to witness the same scene. At week’s end, the child stood and didn’t fall. The child’s eyes expressed the achievement of having attained the impossible.
“So with us,” said the rebbe. “We may fail again and again, but in the end, a loving God gives us the opportunities we need to succeed.”
The mystics understand teshuvah differently. For them, teshuvah means “returning” to being righteous. But suppose one has never been righteous? What does such a person return to? The soul of every person, says the Sefat Emet, is fundamentally righteous. There may be a layer of evil obscuring the inner being, but all people created in the image of God are inherently good. Teshuvah, then, means to return to the inner kernel of goodness we all possess.
Another classic story. Reb Zusha was on his deathbed, and tears were streaming down his face. “Why are you crying?” asked his disciples.
“If God asks me why I wasn’t like Moses or Maimonides,” answered Reb Zusha, “I’ll say, I wasn’t blessed with that kind of leadership ability and wisdom.” But I’m afraid of another question,” he continued. “What if God asks, ‘Reb Zusha, why weren’t you like Reb Zusha? Why didn’t you find your inner being and realize your inner potential? Why didn’t you find yourself?’ That is why I am crying.”
Yet another chassidic legend. A young girl came to the Ba’al Shem Tov – the father of chassidism – crying. “Why do you cry?” the rebbe asked.
“I was playing hide and seek,” said the young girl, “but no one came looking for me.”
“So, too, is it with God,” reflected the Ba’al Shem Tov. “He, too, is crying. For as much as He is looking for us, we rarely look for Him.”
It was left for Rav Avraham Yitzchak HaCohen Kook, the first chief rabbi of Israel, to offer an understanding related to the establishment of the modern State of Israel.
Teshuvah, according to Rav Kook, ought be understood eschatologically. It literally means “go home” – to our homeland. It is not only an individual quest but a communal mandate to establish a land that is different from all others. A land that is a light to the nations of the world, a land that marks the dawn of redemption, a land at peace. On this Yom Kippur – let it be, let it be.
