Tshuvah helps us to move on

Judaism takes a pragmatic approach to repentance, demanding that we acknowledge our shortcomings so that we can ‘cover over’ our sins and continue the effort to make our lives sacred

Rabbi Yael Splansky
Holy Blossom Temple, Toronto

Rabbi Mark Fishman
Congregation Beth Tikvah, Montreal

 

Rabbi Splansky: These are the days we ask forgiveness from one another. We believe that forgiveness is real. It is not a figment of our imagination, nor an illusion fostered by our desires for a happy ending. Time and again in the Al Chet lists of transgressions, we plead: “For all these things, O God of Forgiveness, forgive us, pardon us, grant us atonement.” While the three verbs used in this prayer are synonyms, they each suggest a different aspect of the nature of forgiveness. 

The minimum view is expressed by the term slach. The root has an Akkadian cognate, which means “to sprinkle with water.” In some cases forgiveness acts as a kind of air freshener. The sin remains as it was, but we clean it up a little by sprinkling it with water, so that the sight of it, the memory of it, is tolerable.

Rabbi Fishman: I have been deeply influenced by the writings of Maimonides and his monumental Laws of RepentanceHilchot Tshuvah. What is fascinating is that it seems underlying all of the varied forms of repentance is the overarching concept of Viddui – confession. 

Oscar Wilde once wrote that “we are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.” Before one can begin to change their ways, there is the necessity of confronting reality and expressing the wrong one has done. Tshuvah demands that we acknowledge our shortcomings and that, at times, we may have slipped down into the gutter. 

Rabbi Splansky: At the other end of the spectrum is the second term m’chal, derived from the Hebrew root “to wipe out entirely.” According to this maximum view, forgiveness requires blotting the sin out completely. Is it possible to make it so it never was? I’m not sure. 

Forgiveness is not a magic trick, but, I believe it is possible to blot out a transgression enough so that it is “as though” it had never been.

Rabbi Fishman: I think of the scenario of approaching an individual to apologize only for them to reject it because the pain is still too raw. Sometimes our memory of the past does not let the apology get through. We may hear the person saying sorry, we can genuinely feel for their aching state of mind, and yet the pain of the past keeps both the sin and indeed ourselves locked in. On this level, it takes enormous courage to grant forgiveness.

Rabbi Splansky: Yom Kippur derives its name from the last verb – kaper, which I’ve learned is related to the Arabic word “to cover over.” The goal here is not simply to learn how to live with the insult or the injury. We do not pretend the offence was never committed.“Kippur” means “covering over” the sin and beginning again. Picture a wooden table with a deep scratch in it. Kapparah is like laying out a beautiful, fresh white tablecloth over the scratch, dressing the table with candlesticks and delicious holiday foods, and gathering around that once-damaged table to say blessings with the people closest to you. “Covering over” is a readiness to heal, to move beyond the hurt, so we can get on with living and doing our best to make it sacred.

Rabbi Fishman: In his book Prisoners of Hate, Aaron Beck describes how people can turn anger into hate and how our thinking patterns can imprison us in patterns of reactivity. In contrast to this, Judaism suggests a most pragmatic approach: move on! Learn that life continues, that life is too precious, that life is too short. 

I can almost hear this concept of kapparah being described with a heavy European accent that shrugs and says “Nu, what are you going to do?” Sometimes the hurt that is caused cannot be undone, but kapparah allows us to move on, to rebuild and to continue. How important kapparah is to those who burn their bridges and let an argument last indefinitely. 

In our perennial search for perfection, kapparah comes along and teaches us that relationships can and do go on, even in a state of imperfection. While some aspects of our lives may be broken, the willingness to fix and to heal can also be a sign of transcendence.