Understand the Essence of Teshuva
What Exactly Is This Teshuva Stuff?
Every moment is a turning point between the past and the future. Yet some moments are more momentous than others. They seem to draw a more or less indelible line between the past and the future. The turning of the year is one such moment. The first month of the Gregorian year is January, named for the two-faced Roman god Janus who looked both forward and backward. It was—and still is—time of change and resolutions to do better. Of course, we thought of it first and went bigger.
For us, Rosh Hashanah begins a 10-day period of Teshuvah, “Returning,” culminating in Yom Kippur. During this time, we focus on atoning for past sins against both G-d and man, and seeking the forgiveness from the offended parties that will set the tone for the future. Atonement is the easy part.
In most cases in Jewish law, atonement involves recognizing the sin, regretting it, sincerely intending never to repeat it, confessing it and correcting it to the extent possible. The action is all performed by the offender. Nothing is required of anyone else, and nothing is left to chance. It is the closest one can come to sealing off his past.
However, in the words of William Faulkner in his monumental novel of guilt and redemption “The Nun’s Requiem,” “The past is never dead. It’s not even past.” The ultimate goal to be realized with the blowing of the shofar and the closing of the gates of Heaven at dusk on Yom Kippur is not just atonement, but forgiveness, a way to move forward into the future.
What is forgiveness? You’ve heard it from Oprah and from a convict on the eve of his execution, you’ve seen it on Reddit, you’ve read it in countless repetitions online and in real life: “Forgiveness is giving up hope of a better past.” Pithy and easy to conceptualize, this definition seems to reduce the act of forgiveness to acceptance of the status quo.
But if that is the case, why even bother to atone? Just make sure to offend only those with a pragmatic grip on reality. Is this what we are seeking? Surely not.
Once again, Jewish law provides a practical framework for understanding what appears, if memes are to be credited, to be a fairly difficult concept for even most adults to grasp. The fundamental Jewish law governing forgiveness is that only the offended party is empowered to forgive. Thus, G-d can forgive those sins committed against Him, but forgiveness for sins committed against our fellows can be forgiven only by them.
And while in the vast majority of cases heartfelt atonement for sins committed against G-d would be enough to merit full forgiveness, we or our fellows may be harboring a certain amount of hurt, pain or resentment, for which simply acknowledging the efforts of the offender—no matter how deeply felt—would not be enough.
The most basic—not to say grudging —type of forgiveness, Mehilah, is forgoing the debt that is owed, whether moral or material, including what has been described as “ the debt to society.” The only emotion necessary to accompany this is the wish that no punishment be incurred by the offender. Selihah is the type of forgiveness that is marked by a more openness of spirit and involves a sympathetic understanding of the offender’s point of view. It does not necessarily lead to a reconciliation between the parties, but it can.
Only G-d-given Kapparah constitutes a complete erasure of the offense. These are the three types of forgiveness we request of G-d during the Vidui, Confessional, prayer that we say on Yom Kippur.
Got All That? Now, Teach It to Your Preschooler
We’ve all heard it over and over and maybe even said it ourselves: Children are not just miniature adults. One way this becomes obvious is when it comes to Teshuva. For adults, atonement is the easy part; yes, confessing and apologizing can be awkward and make you feel uncomfortably vulnerable, but if you do the work, you’ll come out at the other end. Forgiveness, which may involve willfully forgoing resentments and the mental exercise of seeing through another’s eyes, might be a bit more difficult. With children the opposite is often true.
According to Rebbetzin Chani Gurkov, who teaches at the Hebrew School of the Chabad Center of Passaic County in Wayne, as well as at women’s Torah classes, “Leading by example is the No. 1 teaching skill. When children hear adults who are open and forgiving, it sets a foundation for forgiveness on their part.”
What passes for atonement among children requires a conversation.
“You first need to recognize that the child may not know he has done something wrong,” she explained. If one child takes a toy from another, for example, the child who was hurt needs to be able to say that what the first child did made him sad. Then the adult can ask the first child to put himself in the other’s place and can suggest that they share. “Forgiving is more than words and more than moving on. It’s making a change.”
When the same behaviors repeat themselves, it helps to give little pointers, reminders that they had said they would not do the same thing again. “That is when you can give them tools to work through their emotions,” such as hitting pillows or balls instead of siblings.
One reason forgiveness is easier than atonement for children is that young children don’t hold grudges. But you need to be in tune with what is happening. “Even though a child may seem OK, [incidents with other children] have to be addressed. First separate them and then speak to them in a calm setting. A good time is when tucking them in at night and reviewing their day. Don’t let it go until the next day.”
Rebbetzin Gurkov warned, “There are no quick fixes, and not always answers for every situation.” When a child embarrasses another child, for example, an adult can try to minimize the hurt and to teach the offender how serious a wrong that is, but sometimes the response can only be to say, “ ‘We all learn from others. From some people we learn what to do and from some people we learn what not to do.’ We are giving them the tools to be adults when they are adults, not adults when they are children.”
May you be inscribed for a good and sweet year!
Sue Kleinberg is a contributing writer to Jlife Magazine.
