The twenty third day of Elul

Rabbi Elimelech of Lizhensk (1717–1787) is said to have written a meditation to be used before prayer, in order to be able to pray without the distraction of our emotions. A prayer before formal prayer in the morning service, a kind of preparation of the soul, a letting go of feelings that hold us back, a reminder that how we behave with others has an impact on how we find our way to God.

This forms part of the prayer:

“Place within our hearts the gift of seeing the goodness in one another,
the strengths of each person and not their shortcomings.
May our words to one another be honest, kind,
and pleasing in Your sight.
Let no trace of hatred take root in our hearts,
one person against another.
Strengthen us in our love for You,
As it is revealed and known to you
that all we seek, all we do,
is to bring You joy.”


The twenty second day of Elul

Twenty second day of Elul
There are said to be 613 mitzvot (commandments) in the bible, though there is some debate as to exactly what they are. The Sefer haChinuch (“Book of Education”) is an anonymous work written in thirteenth-century Spain that details 613 commandments and explains the reasons behind them using biblical texts. There are other formulations too, but whatever one chooses, only one mitzvah can be done without any conscious forethought – that of “Shikhechah” – the mitzvah of forgetting. Based on the verse in Deuteronomy “When you reap the harvest in your field and overlook a sheaf in the field, do not turn back to get it; it shall go to the stranger, the orphan, and the widow—in order that the ETERNAL your God may bless you in all your undertakings.” (Deut 24:19), this is a mitzvah designed to ensure that having left the grain in the field, those people who are following the harvesters to glean what they can from what is left over, are not inconvenienced by the landowner returning. Once he has left the field with his harvest, the remaining “leket” and “peah” belong to the poor.
“To leave what is forgotten to the poor: That we were commanded when we forget a sheaf in the field to leave it there, and that we not return to take it when the thing becomes known to us. And about this is it stated (Deuteronomy 24:19), “and you forget a sheaf in the field […]; it shall go to the stranger, the orphan, and the widow” — meaning to say, leave it there for them.
It is from the roots of the commandment [that it is] since the poor and destitute — in their sin and in their poverty — suspend their eyes upon the produce, in their seeing the owners of the field sheaving their sheaves “according to the blessing of the Eternal that God gave to them”; and they think in their heart, saying, “If only it will be like this for me, to gather sheaves into my house — and if only I could bring one, I would rejoice in it”; and hence it was from God’s kindnesses towards all creatures, may God be blessed, to fulfil this desire of theirs when it occurs that the owner of the field forgets it. There is also a benefit for the owner of the field, that he acquires through this a goodly soul; for truly through the trait of generosity and a blessed soul that does not place its heart upon the forgotten sheaf and leaves it to the destitute — on those with such a soul — does the blessing of God descend forever. (Sefer haChinuch 592:1-2)

I have to say I like the idea of it being a mitzvah to forget. While this is based on a blessing to those who even inadvertently support the poor and needy in society, the idea of it being not only a good thing for others but also for ourselves that we can forget something we have held on to closely, is one I can get behind.
How many times have we found ourselves remembering with shame and embarrassment something that happened a long time ago, or that was minor in the minds of everyone else, but stays with us in full technicolour horror down the years? How many times have we hung on to our anger at the actions of someone else?
This is a strange mitzvah in so many ways, because it cannot be done with forethought. But also, it is a mitzvah that can only be done when we have made a mistake, not completed the full task we expected to do or done something not according to plan. We have made a mistake, and we can turn it into a blessing.
So as you examine your lives, look to see what you are holding on to that is holding you back, damaging you in some way or damaging a relationship or a reconciliation. And, recognising that that holding on has been a mistake, practise the idea of turning it into a blessing, let go and forget, it can be over and we can move forward without holding on to emotions that can only damage us.

The twenty first day of Elul

Rabbi Eliezer was known to be very severe and rather domineering with his pupils and his colleagues. He was inflexible and deeply conservative. But he was also recognised to be a great scholar and a worthy leader within the community.
During one particularly bad drought, Rabbi Eliezer led the community in prayer for rain. 13 different fast days were instituted in order to show penance to God, to beg for forgiveness and life giving rain. But still the sky stayed clear. As the people were preparing to leave the synagogue on the last day, Rabbi Eliezer called out to them “have you prepared graves for yourselves?” a question so shocking and terrible that they began to cry, and only then the rain began. (Ta’anit 25a-b)

The Talmud tells a second story, where again Rabbi Eliezer led the community in a long and extended amidah prayer while they all fasted, but his prayers were still not answered. Then Rabbi Akiva, a student and friend of Rabbi Eliezer, added his prayers – five sentences each beginning with the phrase “Avinu Malkeinu”. At that moment, the rains began and the famine was averted. The rabbis began to ask why the young Akiva was successful in his prayers whereas the great Rabbi Eliezer was not. And a bat Kol, a heavenly voice was heard to say that the issue was not one of greatness, but because Rabbi Eliezer was exact and demanding whereas Rabbi Akiva was relaxed and forgiving, and God had responded to each according to his personality.
How do we both create and receive the forgiveness we seek? Our liturgy quotes God as saying (as God said to Moses in Numbers 14:19-20 after Moses begs God to forgive the people who rebel after the report from the spies) “Pardon, I pray, the iniquity of this people according to Your great kindness, as You have forgiven this people ever since Egypt.” And GOD said, “I pardon, as you have asked – Salachti kidvarecha. “Salachti kidvarecha” – the answer is in the word kidvarecha – the thoughts and feelings we have and we express as we search for this elusive yet much wished for state. Maybe we have been a little too much like Rabbi Eliezer ben Hyrcanus, a little too inflexible, rigid in our attitudes and stubborn in our analyses. Maybe we have been more concerned with our status and how things look to others than we should have been. There is no question in the Talmud that Rabbi Eliezer didn’t pray – simply that his prayer was not conducive to being answered. In the first story the people finally comprehend that they have come to the end of the road – if their prayer is not answered this time they will die – and it is that realisation that gives their prayer the added dimension – urgency, depth, honesty – that means it will be answered. But it is from the second story that we learn something new, that God treats us as we treat others. If we refuse to forgive others, we too will have a hard time attaining forgiveness from God for ourselves. The same message is found elsewhere in the Talmud in tractate Rosh Hashanah 17a, where we find the statement “Whose sin does God forgive? The one who forgives sins (against themself)” – the person who is forgiving to others is more easily forgiven by God, who responds middah k’neged middah – measure for measure – towards each person according to their own behaviour and personality.

The twentieth day of Elul

Maimonides writes, in his Mishneh Torah (composed c1176)

“Suppose one should say: since jealousy, lust, ambition, and the like passions, are bad, and tend to bring people to an untimely end, I will withdraw from them altogether, and remove to the other extreme—and in this one might go so far as even not to eat meat, not to drink wine, not to marry, not to reside in a respectable dwelling house, and not to put on any proper garments, but only sackcloth, or coarse wool, or the like….. and one who walks in this way is called a sinner; for it is said with regard to the Nazarite: And he shall make an atonement for him, for that he sinned against the soul. On this the sages observe: “If the Nazarite who abstained from wine only, stands in need of an atonement, how much more does he require it, who abstains from every enjoyment.” The sages have therefore directed, that people should refrain from those things only, which the law forbids; but that we should not impose a self prohibition by vows or oaths, of such things as are lawful. Thus the sages say: “Is not that sufficient for you, which the law has prohibited, that you should even impose upon yourself restrictions of other things?”….. Solomon has directed us and said: Be not righteous over much; nor make yourself over wise; why should you destroy yourself? (Eccles. 7. 16). (Mishneh Torah, Human Dispositions 3:1)

While in a penitential mode, travelling through the days of Elul to reach first Rosh Hashanah and then Yom Kippur, spending time in self examination and reflection about our lives, it would be easy to look for ways to make our lives less fun and enjoyable, as a mark of our sincerity of repentance, or because we think this is what we ought to be doing.

So this is a salutary reminder that enjoyment of this world and its many wonderful and beautiful things is a way to appreciate the Creator of all, that over-zealous self-flagellation or misery arising from what we feel we have not done right so far in our lives is not the way to reach connection to our Divine parent.

As Bachya ibn Pekuda in his book “Duties of the Heart” wrote: “Many good things are left unenjoyed, and the happiness to be had from them becomes tainted either because people do not recognise the good in it, or they do not realise its value.”

So here is a poem by ee cummings to remind us of the value of enjoyment of our world, bringing us closer to God

i thank You God for most this amazing
day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes
(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)
how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any—lifted from the no
of all nothing—human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?
(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

The nineteenth day of Elul

The first use of the verb “k.p.r” is in the story of Noah, when God instructs Noah
עֲשֵׂה לְךָ תֵּבַת עֲצֵי־גֹפֶר קִנִּים תַּעֲשֶׂה אֶת־הַתֵּבָה וְכָפַרְתָּ אֹתָהּ מִבַּיִת וּמִחוּץ בַּכֹּפֶר׃
“Make yourself an ark of gopher wood; make it an ark with compartments, and cover it inside and out with pitch.” (Genesis 6:14)
Here the root of the word appears to mean both“ to cover”, and, since the word for pitch uses the same root – “pitch – some kind of waterproof and protective covering- so we can extend this meaning to “to protect”
We find an echo of Noah’s “ark” in the ark made for the tent of meeting, the place where the presence of God will hover: For this “aron” too is to have a protective covering – the kapporet (exodus 25:17-21) – the mercy seat that covers and protects the ark and the stones within it, decorated with cherubim to the sacrifices of atonement to be made by the high priest.
When we come to the more usual formations of the verbal root, it is generally found in Temple artefacts and ritual – almost always in the plural and in the piel or hitpael binyan , and almost always to do with the sacrifices to be made there to atone for the sins of the people, either as individuals or as a collective.
Altogether the root appears over a hundred times in Tanakh, and from its earliest and most “material” form in the “kal” binyan that we find in Noah, it grows to have meanings or undertones of “covering” or “protecting”, “appeasing”, “ransoming”, or a “reconciliation”.
What does it mean for us today, that we name our holiest day of the year after this verbal root with meanings of to cover over and protect, to appease and to ransom, to reconcile?
I think it means that we recognise that we cannot undo the past – but we can come to terms with it, and we refuse to allow it to define us and our future. We can create a kapporet – a protective “lid” or closure between us and what has happened– to enable us to let go of the damage or pain we have been carrying, and to accommodate out reality as we move into the future.

The eighteenth day of Elul

“Rabbi Abahu bar Zeira said, ‘Great is Teshuvah, for it preceded the Creation of the World, as it says, ‘Before the mountains were born,…You gave to human beings the ability to be contrite and to repent. (Psalms 90:2-3)” (Bereishit Rabbah, 1:4)
“Rabbi Levi said, ‘Great is Teshuvah, for it enables a person to reach the throne of God,” as it says ‘Return, O Israel, to the Eternal your God.’ (Hosea 14:2)” (BT Yoma: 86a)
“Rabbi Yochanan said, ‘Great is Teshuvah, for it causes a person’s verdict to be torn up.’ ” (BT Rosh Hashanah 17b)
The root of the word “teshuvah” is “Shuv” –to turn/ to return, but there is complexity in that meaning – to whom or to what are we to turn to, to whom or to what are we to return to?
Teshuvah is said to be one of the things created before the world itself was created. There are different lists – Avot 5:6 lists 10 of the mostly miraculous events in bible that our outside the laws of nature (“Ten things were created on the eve of the Sabbath at twilight, and these are they: [1] the mouth of the earth, [2] the mouth of the well, [3] the mouth of the donkey, [4] the rainbow, [5] the manna, [6] the staff [of Moses], [7] the Shamir, [8] the letters, [9] the writing, [10] and the tablets. And some say: also the demons, the grave of Moses, and the ram of Abraham, our father. And some say: and also tongs, made with tongs.”) But the list in Pirkei d’Rabbi Eliezer 3:5 – the Torah, the Throne of Glory, Gan Eden, Gehinnom,, the Temple, the Name of Messiah, and Teshuvah has a different purpose: not to ensure that the laws of the natural world will remain paramount, but that the laws of the spiritual world all support one thing – increasing closeness to the divine being.
Rabbi Abraham Yitzchak Ha-Cohen Kook wrote – “Teshuvah illuminates the spiritual darkness as a person returns to themselves, to the roots of their own soul, and through this action they are able to return to God, the owner and originator of all souls”
I love that rabbinic tradition has created stories so that all the strange and unnatural events in bible – the talking donkey, the staff that turned into a snake, the manna provided for forty years in the desert – are given an origin story that is rooted before the natural world is created, and so such “miracles” can no longer be expected to upend our worlds. But I love more that one of the things created even before the world was created is, in our tradition, the route back to our own authentic selves and back to relationship with our Creator.
Along with the texts that create the possibility of teshuvah in a formal process during the Yamim Noraim, Rabbinic tradition says always – there is hope. Things can be made better. Whatever we may feel about ourselves, when our mood is low and we can see no way forward, tradition reminds us -it is never too late to start again. And it provides a road map back into life.

The seventeenth day of Elul

Who has achieved complete teshuvah? A person who confronts the same situation in which he [or she] sinned and abstains, although that person has the potential to commit the sin again.… Sinners should abandon their sins and remove them from [their] thoughts, resolving in [their] hearts never to commit them again. (Maimonides, Mishneh Torah, Laws of Repentance 2:1–2)
Rabbi Bunam was asked: “How can a person know if their repentance is genuine?” He replied: “They will know their repentance is complete if they lose the desire to commit those very offences again.”
Teshuvah is a process of repair, of growing past what are sometimes long ingrained habits, and of renewing ourselves. We might regret and acknowledge and make amends as we review our past selves and our actions, but there is more to the process than this. To be in a position to repeat behaviours that we would be none to proud to remember after the event – though which may offer a gratification or a benefit in the immediate moment – and to make the conscious decision not to do so, not out of fear of the consequences but out of a genuine sense of our own spiritual growth, is a mark of a teshuvah that has changed us as we move into the future.

The sixteenth day of Elul

In the Babylonian Talmud, Tamid 32a, are recorded a series of questions that Alexander of Macedon (Alexander the Great) asked the Elders of the Negev
We read “Alexander said to the Elders: Who is truly worthy of being called wise? They said to him, citing a tradition (see Avot 2:9): Who is the wise person? The one who sees and anticipates the consequences of his behaviour. He said to them: Who is truly worthy of being called mighty? They said to him, again citing a tradition (see Avot 4:1): Who is the mighty person? The one who masters his desire. He said to them: Who is worthy of being called wealthy? They said to him: Who is the wealthy person? The one who is pleased with his own portion (see Avot 4:1).
The text presents, as if in a debate, the viewpoints of Alexander and Hellenism against the viewpoints of the Elders and Judaism. But for me the standout is the response to his question – “who is truly worthy of being called wise” . We are most used to seeing this question being answered by the text in Avot, and the response of ben Zoma (Avot 4:1) – “The one who learns from every person” – but here is a slightly different response – אֵיזֶהוּ חָכָם – הָרוֹאֶה אֶת הַנּוֹלָד – literally “the one who sees what is born”, – understood as the one who recognises that actions have consequences, and who therefore tries to anticipate and if necessary mitigate those consequences.
Much of the act of teshuvah is predicated on looking back, remembering, regretting, trying to ameliorate actions we have already committed. Tradition occasionally nudges us that some of this regret might not be necessary if we paid a little more attention to anticipating the impact of how we are behaving, and maybe hold back or do things differently.

The fifteenth day of Elul

While there is an encouraging statement in the Talmud that “If one commits a sin and is ashamed of it, all their sins are forgiven (Berachot 12b), the reality is that shame alone is not enough to effect change, let alone to understand the import of what has happened. Teshuvah is a process, not a single event.

So, the next stage of Teshuvah, after recognising and owning up to the behaviour that we regret and wish to change, is to determine to mitigate its negative consequences, and to make changes to help us not repeat the action.

For transgressions against God, the Day of Atonement atones; but for transgression of one human being against another, the Day of Atonement does not atone until they have made peace with each other. (Yoma 8:9)

In the case of the one who has transgressed against another person – the next stage is to acknowledge and apologise to that person to try to mitigate the damage done to them, to try to make peace – a cold peace is enough, one doesn’t have to force a friendship where it is inappropriate or not wanted. If an item had been borrowed and lost or not returned, it must be returned or an equivalent amount paid to the one who loaned it.

The person who has been wronged is expected to try to accept the overtures towards peace – alongside the returned object or monetary offer if it is lost. But it is clear in the halacha that while acceptance of the apology and mitigation is a hoped for outcome, it may not necessarily happen. As Maimonides writes (MT Hilchot Teshuvah 2:10)

“It is forbidden for a person to be cruel and refuse to be appeased. Rather, he should be easily pacified, but hard to anger. When the person who wronged him asks for forgiveness, he should forgive him with a complete heart and a willing spirit. Even if he aggravated and wronged him severely, he should not seek revenge or bear a grudge.”

But one cannot legislate for forgiveness. So tradition allows the regretful perpetrator of the sin to approach the victim of their sin three times in genuine apology. Should they still not be forgiven, the “case is closed”, their sin no longer a burden on their souls.

But they would hopefully be chastened and consider their future behaviour if they had caused so deep a hurt that the other person could not bring themselves to forgive

The fourteenth day of Elul

From the very days of your ancestors you have turned away from My laws and have not observed them. Turn back to Me, and I will turn back to you—said GOD of Hosts. But you ask, “How shall we turn back?” Malachi 3:7

לְמִימֵי אֲבֹתֵיכֶם סַרְתֶּם מֵחֻקַּי וְלֹא שְׁמַרְתֶּם שׁוּבוּ אֵלַי וְאָשׁוּבָה אֲלֵיכֶם אָמַר יְהֹוָה צְבָאוֹת וַאֲמַרְתֶּם בַּמֶּה נָשׁוּב׃

Teshuvah – Returning to the ways that God expects of us, is the theme of these Days of Awe, and again and again our liturgy exhorts us to return to God, and that should we do so, God will return to us. But as the prophet Malachi records – sometimes our response to that exhortation is – I would like to – but how do I do it?

Tradition tells us that teshuvah is not an event, but a process. Maimonides codifies the laws of Repentance in his Mishneh Torah, which begins

(1) All commandments of the Torah, whether they be mandatory or prohibitive, if a person violates any one of them, either presumptuously or erroneously, when they will repent and turn away from their sinful way, they are obliged to confess before God, blessed is God! even as it is said: “When a man or woman shall commit any sin..… Then they shall confess their sin which they have done (Num. 5.6–7), which is a confession of words. Such confession is a mandatory commandment.”

So the very beginning of the process is that a person must have in some way sinned, either deliberately or by mistake, and that they will recognise that they have done so. The recognition then leads to an acknowledgement, in the form of a confession before God.

How do we recognise and acknowledge what we have done / failed to do? The process is called cheshbon hanefesh – literally the accounting of the soul. The metaphor of a cheshbon is deliberate – the word is used in hebrew to describe a calculation, a reckoning, an account, and is the word in modern hebrew for the bill at a point of sale.

So we begin by looking in detail at our past selves, and look at each action – was it something that gave my life more meaning and brought me closer to my best self? Was it something I did carelessly that maybe impacted negatively? Was it something that brought me selfish gain or pleasure but did not reflect well on my values?

It is the first step in a process of return to our best selves, but cheshbon nefesh does not only have to be done retroactively as we reflect on our lives at this time. Cheshbon nefesh can be a useful metric for us to make choices going forward – we can ask ourselves how a particular choice will sit in the accounts book – will it take me closer to who I want to be or will it take me further away?