What is Teshuva? The most common translation is repentance. However, repentance invokes a “gloomy and depressive mood of guilt and sorrow” whereas Teshuvah “implies of a positive sense of prospective growth and accomplishment.” Rabbi Zvi Yehuda uses three different definitions for Teshuva:

“Returning: turning from the wrong way and returning to the right way. It is self-improvement. By improving oneself, by becoming better, one returns to one’s true self-to God. Restoring: self-renewal, spiritual recovery and healing; rejecting the depressive mood of shame and guilt and adapting new, reconstructive ways of moral rehabilitation and self-esteem; by positive changes in one’s attitude and conduct. Responding-responsibility and responsiveness. By the experience of Teshuva, one returns to one’s innermost yearnings for a constructive and meaningful life, to the highest call of duty-to the will of God.”[1]

Rav Kook goes a step beyond this, stating that teshuva is “returning to one’s original status, to the source of love and higher being…in their highest spiritual character, as illuminated by the simple, radiant, divine light.”[2]

Teshuva is an important centerpiece of our religion. The Midrash teaches that “one who does teshuva, it is considered as if he went to Jerusalem, rebuilt the Temple, erected the altar, and offered upon it all the sacrifices of Torah.”[3] This is a metaphor for our taking what is broken in our lives and restoring it to wholeness. Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish takes it one step further, stating “repentance is so great that premeditated sins are accounted for as it they were merits.”[4]

Why is this so great? In his classic work Man’s Search for Meaning, Victor Frankl asserts “every human being has the freedom to change at every minute…a human being is a self-transcending being.”[5] In so doing, we also note, as Art Green writes, that “Our return to Y-H-W-H is in no way separate from our return to ourselves, to the point of inward truth out of which our humanity shines forth. ‘Return to Me and I shall return to you.”[6]

Of course, here we are talking about genuine repentance. Not these blanket apologies “I am sorry if I offended anyone.” The specificity that comes from true heshbon hanefesh, soul searching, is what is being called for here. It is also a constant process. The cynic may ask: “What good does Yom Kippur really accomplish. One goes through the ritual of atonement. One fasts and prays to be forgiven and goes out again in the world and commits the sins afresh!” This very question was once put to a rabbi by his disciple. His master replied, “Go, my son, to the creek to the outskirts of the town and stay there for a full week. Watch what takes place there, and you will then understand the value of repentance.” The disciple carried out the instructions of the master. He finally returned, still troubled by his old question, and baffled even more by the strange procedure that the master had suggested to him. “All I saw were women doing their laundry by the creek,” he reported. “They come with dirty garments, scrub them clean, and at the end of the week they return with more dirty garments and scrub them clean all over again.” “My son,” said the master, “there lies the meaning and value of repentance. Our souls are like those garments scrubbed by the women. In our encounter with the world, our souls become soiled, and they must be scrubbed repeatedly. Teshuva is a kind of scrubbing, to remove the filth which is on our souls. And cleansing must be continuous, because the accumulation of filth is perpetual.”[7]

Rabbi Harold Schulweis reminds us that it is not too late, that we have these remaining days of repentance to make amends.

The last word has not been spoken,

The last sentence has not been written,

The final verdict is not in.

It is never too late

To change my mind,

My direction,

To say no to the past

And yes to the future,

To offer remorse,

To ask and give forgiveness.

It is never too late to alter my world,

Not by magic incantations

Or manipulations of the cards

Or deciphering the stars.

But by opening myself

To curative forces buried within,

To hidden energies,

The powers in my interior self.

In sickness and in dying, it is never too late.

Living, I teach.

Dying, I teach.

How I face pain and fear,

Others observe me, children, adults,

Students of life and death,

Learn from my bearing, my posture,

My philosophy.[8]

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[1] Rabbi Zvi Yehuda, Thought of the Week, Cleveland Jewish News, 9-28-90.

[2] Rabbi Chai Levy in We Rise: An Anthology of High Holiday Sermons delivered the year after October 7th, page 249.

[3] Midrash Rabbah Leviticus 7:2

[4] Babylonian Talmud Yoma 86b

[5] Page 127

[6] Rabbi Art Green Say My Face, Speak My Name: A Contemporary Jewish Theology (Northvale, NJ: Aaronson, 1992) pg. 161.

[7] Rabbi Robert Gordis, Reconstructionist High Holiday Supplement 5739, Temple University

[8] Rabbi Harold Schulweis in God’s Mirror: Reflections and Essays (Hoboken, NJ: Ktav, 1990, p. 296-97)