Rosh Hashana Teshuva

Teshuva, the art of repentance, is far from easy. Not only is it difficult to confront oneself honestly about one’s own shortcomings, but it is even more difficult to internalize the need to repent and then transform this into action. How many of us are really capable of reaching such a lofty goal?

Our sages, well aware of these difficulties, looked for ways to pave our road to repentance. One of many suggestions is expressed in a Midrash that refers to the Haftara of Shabbat Shuva, the Sabbath between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur.

In this Haftara, taken from the book of Hoshea we read: “Turn, Israel, to the Lord your God, because you have stumbled over your transgressions. Take with you words and return to God…”[1] On this verse, Yalkut Shimoni, a midrashic commentary, states:[2] “Take with you words, like the words through which you seduced God at Sinai, as it is written ‘They beguiled Him with their mouth’”[3]

“We shall do and we shall hear”[4] was the expression with which the children of Israel, while standing at Sinai, promised to fulfill the Mitzvot, stating that they were prepared to commit themselves to God’s will, even without knowing the actual contents of the covenant. The words “through which you seduced God” are, however, most disturbing. It hints at the idea that this expression of total commitment was not entirely genuine, perhaps even unethical, and thus contrary to Jewish values as we know them.

We are even more surprised when we read that this phraseology refers to Israel’s failure to live up to its commitment from the very beginning. Immediately after the words, “We shall do and we shall hear,”[5] the Torah informs us that the children of Israel fell victim to one of the most severe transgressions in Jewish history – the creation and worship of the Golden Calf. It seems then that the words, “We shall do and we shall hear,” may have been a bit idealistic and perhaps unrealistic. This does not suggest, however, that their original intentions were in any way dishonest. The fact that the Jews were unable to hold up their end of the deal does not necessarily imply bad faith.

The Midrash sees things differently. Seduction is after all a pre-conceived attempt to make an impression that is not entirely true – to present a most favorable, but somewhat false, façade.

What, then, does the haftara mean when it suggests that we should use words of seduction at the time of Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur to aid in the process of teshuva? Why should we utter words that are not entirely truthful?

Rabbi Eliyahu Eliezer Dessler, z”l, one of the most outstanding thinkers in modern Jewish history, resolves this problem by analyzing the nature of a promise. A promise, states Rabbi Dessler, by definition includes the potential for falsehood. After all, at the time of the promise, the commitment is nothing but words. There is no reality to the statement, since the promise does not relate to what is done now, in the present, but what the parties intend to do in the future. At the moment the promise is made it is still unfulfilled and as such not (yet) true. In this sense, it carries the dimension of a deception, especially since it is always possible that, despite even the best intentions, the promise may never be fulfilled. In spite of the potential downside, making a promise can be of great moral value since it instills in a man an added sense of urgency to make the content of his promise come to fruition. This is the power of a promise. Even though one risks lying and breaking one’s word, a promise can inspire us to succeed in the most difficult and important realms of life.[6]

Progress throughout human history was made largely because people committed themselves with promises that they then felt compelled to actualize. As the famous saying attests: “We promise much as to avoid giving little.”[7]

We now may start to understand the Midrash. The only way Israel was able to force itself to a commitment to live by the demands of the Torah was by making a promise: “We shall do and we shall hear.”[8] At the time they made this commitment, they knew that it came with the possibility of eventually violating the treaty. And so we see the degree of deception involved when nearly a moment afterwards, the Jewish people turned their backs on God to worship the Golden Calf in His stead! This, however, does not mean that they were wrong to enter into the covenant. The obligations they took on with their utterance – “We shall do and we shall hear” – carried the seeds of success, even if at the time they made the promise they were not 100% genuine. Their higher-order value was to fulfill the covenant, and so they committed themselves in the hopes that their lower order values would eventually come into line with what they knew to be the right way to live.

God, consequently, asks the Jews and all of mankind, during times of introspection, such as on Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, to use words of seduction. Even though these words will not always come true, without them we don’t even give ourselves the chance for success.

Hoshea’s suggestion to “take with you words [of seduction] and turn to God” is, therefore, of profound value. Even when we are not fully committed to teshuva (repentance) at the time of the High Holidays, we should at least utter those words of teshuva, since it may come to pass at a later date that we will feel an honest desire to live up to our commitments and actually repent. In the promise lies the potential for our spiritual elevation and salvation, and for this reason God suggests that we should try and seduce Him, just like our forefathers did at Sinai (and also seduce ourselves, to greater growth and spirituality). Thus let us all pronounce the words, “We shall do and we shall hear,” during the High Holidays.[9]

Notes:

[1] Hoshea 14:2-3.

[2] Yalkut Shimoni, Remez 533.

[3] Tehillim 78:36.

[4] Shemot 24:7.

[5] Ibid.

[6] See R. Eliyahu Eliezer Dessler, Michtav me-Eliyahu (Jerusalem: The Committee for the Publication of the Writings of Rabbi E.L. Dessler, 1991), 4:237-238.

[7] Vauvenargues, Reflections and Maxims, p. 436.

[8] Shemot 24:7.

[9] The ba’alei mussar, the great teachers of Jewish ethics, suggest that one should not keep such promises private, but make them in the company of one’s spouse, children and friends so as to secure their fulfillment. Nobody likes to show himself as untrustworthy before one’s fellow men.