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The Gift of Teshuvah and Rosh Hashanah
Author: Rabbi Moshe Pruzansky
With Rosh Hashana right around the corner, it comes as no surprise that this week’s parashah discusses the mitzvah of teshuvah.
Why does teshuvah work? Why is it that even if I sin severely, if I genuinely decide to improve, Hashem will accept that apology? This question becomes compounded when one realizes that even when I do teshuvah with the highest level of sincerity, ultimately, I will probably sin and stumble again in the future, as no one is perfect. If so, why does Hashem accept such a temporary and fleeting teshuvah?
Additionally, even though we are judged with frightening scrutiny on Rosh Hashanah for our every deed, it is still known as a Yom Tov, as it is the day we crown our King — and by doing so, reconnect to Him in the strongest manner possible. However, haven’t we all sinned many times in this past year? At the very least, didn’t we promise last year to dramatically improve, yet stayed more or less the same? If so, why would Hashem accept such a coronation? Shouldn’t our coronation be severely tainted? Furthermore, if indeed we are not as virtuous as we should be, why are our actions on Rosh Hashanah still so beloved by Hashem? Why did He decree that it should be a Yom Tov, and that we should eat enjoyable meals with friends and family and wear our Shabbos clothing?
Finally, how can we bring ourselves to be happy on Rosh Hasha- nah? Commensurate with the level of attachment to Hashem that we attain on Rosh Hashanah is the level of blessing we will receive. Shouldn’t we be concerned that due to our sins, we won’t be granted much of a connection to Him this Rosh Hashanah, and won’t receive as much blessing as we need? Shouldn’t we be worried and fasting? What merit are we all relying on?
The following parable, offered by the Nesivos Shalom, will help to answer our questions:
A soldier was stationed in a certain locale. The king of that country was making his annual rounds throughout the king- dom, and this soldier was charged with the great responsibility of welcoming him when he arrived at his village. The day of the king’s expected arrival turned out to be a scorching hot summer day. The king was supposed to arrive in the early morning; how- ever, by late afternoon, the king had still not arrived. As it did not appear that the king’s arrival was imminent, the guard, who was sweltering in the heat, changed into a bathing suit and left his post to take a quick swim in a nearby river.
Lo and behold, who should approach the city as soon as he immersed — none other than the king! Seized with shame and panic, as he certainly would not have enough time to change back into his uniform, the soldier found himself in a real quan- dary. Should he hide from the king, saving his own dignity at the expense of the king’s? Or, despite his appearance, should he stand at the entrance of the city at attention, so that at least someone would be there to honor and welcome the king? Mak- ing a sudden decision, the soldier decided to race to his post. How could he allow the great king to be dishonored by not receiving a welcome? While mortified by his appearance, the soldier stood dutifully at attention in his bathing suit, dripping wet, just as the king arrived.
Taken aback by the spectacle, the wise monarch instantly sized up the situation. He recognized that despite how foolish and inadequate it made the soldier look, the soldier had put the king’s honor before his own, and was impressed by the incredible display of loyalty to the king despite the difficulty involved. In- stead of anger, the king reacted by presenting the soldier with a medal of honor and stayed in close contact with him for the years to come.
We are like that soldier in the story. When it comes to teshuvah, and especially on Rosh Hashanah, we may feel inadequate and bare of merit and righteousness. How can we possibly return to our king in such a state? Didn’t we promise last year that we would dramati- cally improve? How can we face Him when we haven’t fulfilled that promise? Our plight is similar to the soldier’s — but so is the solu- tion. By dutifully dedicating ourselves fully to Hashem our King, and genuinely coronating Him in mind, heart, and soul, we earn His care and mercy. Furthermore, in a sense, the more we are deficient of righteousness due to our pitfalls, the greater the feeling of hesitation to do teshuvah, and the greater we are honoring the King by disre- garding our own dignity and admitting our sins, in order to honor Him. Once we do this, we earn His love and compassion, despite our past year’s sins.
This brings us back to our first question: True, it is beautiful that we rededicate ourselves to Hashem with all of our hearts on Rosh Hashanah, and through teshuvah throughout the year. However, what is the purpose of teshuvah, and our sincere Rosh Hashanah avodah, if we all know that we ultimately will mess up again? Nobody is perfect, and it will take a lifetime until we truly perfect ourselves. If so, isn’t our repentance and promises to improve, as well as our coronation of Hashem on Rosh Hashanah, intrinsically flawed? What do we ac- complish by promising that we will improve in all areas (something which is vital for teshuvah to work), if we know we will probably mess up again in the future? Furthermore, why would Hashem accept such a promise?
We can answer this by addressing one final question. The Torah portion that the Sages choose for us to read on Yom Tov is supposed to capture the very essence of the Yom Tov itself. Why is it, then, that on Rosh Hashanah, one of the single holiest days of the year, we read the portion of the Torah that discusses Yishmael being mirac- ulously saved from death? There are surely more important things from the Torah to read about than the father of Islam being granted a miracle!
The reason we read the Torah portion about Yishmael is be- cause when he was dying, he cried out to Hashem to save him. As Hashem considered doing so, the angels went to Hashem and made an extremely logical argument: “How could you save him? In the future, his children will slaughter so many Jews. In fact, he him- self was thrown out of Avraham’s tent for trying to kill Yitzchak (Midrash Rabbah 53:11 on Vayeira)! He wasn’t a good person in the past, and will not be good in the future either! Besides, he was only motivated to call out to You because he’s dying. How could You possibly save him?” Hashem answered them with the words that serve as the very foundation of our avodah on Rosh Hashanah until this very day. He replied: “I don’t act based on what people were in the past, nor do I act according to who they will be in the future. I only act based on who they are right now (ba’asher hu sham). Right now, he has a pure heart and he has called out to Me in full sincer- ity, and therefore, I will save him” (Rashi, Bereishis 21:17).
We learn from this episode that if we bring ourselves to sincerely improve right here and now, and take actions to genuinely con- tinue to improve in the future, then we have attained perfection in Hashem’s eyes. This is the purpose of Rosh Hashanah and of teshuvah in general: Perfect yourself in the present. Once you do so, you are in- herently righteous and pure, regardless of whether or not you stumble again in the future.
LIVING INSPIRED
ROSH HASHANAH IS a serious day, but it’s not a day of sadness. It is a day of joy.* We should be happy for the great opportunity that we have to crown our King!
Rosh Hashanah is known in the Torah as “Yom Teru’ah” (Bamid- bar 29:1). Do you know the definition of “teru’ah”? In Parashas Balak, Rashi defines the word teru’ah as “love and friendship” with Hashem (Bamidbar 23:21). This is what Rosh Hashanah stands for. May we all sincerely redevote ourselves to Hashem and rejoice at the great oppor- tunity that we have to honor, coronate, and reconnect with our King.