הֲשִׁיבֵנוּ אָבִינוּ לְתוֹרָתֶךָ וְקָרְבֵנוּ מַלְכֵּנוּ לַעֲבוֹדָתֶךָ וְהַחֲזִירֵנוּ בִּתְשׁוּבָה שְׁלֵמָה לְפָנֶיךָ: בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה’ הָרוֹצֶה בִּתְשׁוּבָה – Return us, our Father, to Your Torah and bring us near, our King, to Your service; and bring us back in whole-hearted repentance before You Blessed are You, Hashem, Who desires penitence.

Return

One of Judaism’s signature beliefs is in our personal ability to do Teshuva and make amends.

Return and repentance are among the most beautiful and innovative beliefs in the Torah, and it’s hard to overstate their significance.

Everything lost can be found, and everything broken can be fixed and restored.

Teshuva and the personal ability to earn atonement and forgiveness are groundbreaking because, in the ancient world, humans lived in fear of their gods. You would try to do right by them in the hope that they would do right to you; you don’t offend them, so they don’t smite you. The relationship people had with their gods was explicitly transactional and, from a certain perspective, what we might call abusive. 

A popular aphorism states that home is the place where, when you go there, they have to let you in. Teshuva is the return to a religious home, even if you’ve never been there before.

R’ Jonathan Sacks likens it to the waves of diaspora immigrants who escaped to the Land of Israel. When Europeans, Yemenites, Moroccans, Russians, Mizrachi, and Ethiopians stepped off boats and planes into a land they’d never seen before, they knew they were home.

As Rabbi Nachman of Breslev put it, if you believe you can break, believe you can fix.

Take responsibility

As much as we believe God will forgive anyone, we also believe in the prerequisite requirement to show up and take responsibility. As R’ Jonathan Sacks teaches, forgiveness can only exist where repentance exists, and repentance can only exist where responsibility exists.

Responsibility is a uniquely human quality; it suggests a duty or obligation that can sometimes be burdensome and make you uncomfortable. The Rambam notes that reward and punishment only make sense if humans have moral agency and free choice, or in other words, responsibility. Without choice, it would be unfair and wrong for God to hold you responsible for bad things you did because you were incapable of choosing otherwise; responsibility only exists alongside the ability to decide how to act.

How do you get there?

In the Amida, there tend to be formulas and patterns.

One that keeps recurring is that the conclusion of each blessing mirrors the opening; Grant wisdom, the One who grants wisdom; Forgive us, the One who forgives, Heal us, the One who heals, Bless us, the One who blesses – סְלַח לָנוּ / הַמַּרְבֶּה לִסְלוֹחַ; רְפָאֵנוּ / רוֹפֵא חוֹלֵי עַמּוֹ יִשְׂרָאֵל; בָּרֵךְ עָלֵינוּ / מְבָרֵךְ הַשָּׁנִים.

This blessing deviates from the standard form; it closes with a request for God to desire our return, yet opens with a request for God to return us to the Torah – הֲשִׁיבֵנוּ אָבִינוּ לְתוֹרָתֶךָ / הָרוֹצֶה בִּתְשׁוּבָה.

It suggests that connection to the Torah is at the heart of seeking Teshuva.

Our sages intuitively taught that uneducated people can never truly be saintly; it is impossible to be careful and particular with something you lack basic awareness and familiarity with – ein am haaretz chassid.

It follows that deep engagement with Torah is essential for a meaningful spiritual journey and genuine repentance. Our Sages teach that during pregnancy, an angel teaches a child all of Torah, which they forget at birth; in a sense, we’re asking for a return of what we once had – הֲשִׁיבֵנוּ אָבִינוּ לְתוֹרָתֶךָ.

On a simple level, the path to teshuva can only be identified and illuminated through the Torah.  All people have different natural proclivities; some people are incredibly kind, and others are incredibly honest. It is absolutely possible to intuit your way into a key value of Judaism, but it’s essentially impossible to identify and perform Judaism’s key tenets without referring to the sources. As the Mishna in Pirkei Avos teaches, simple people can’t be meticulous – וְלֹא עַם הָאָרֶץ חָסִיד. If you don’t know how to get there, you probably won’t find your way by accident.

However, and most especially since the early Chassidic masters, the greatest sages have often been able to glean profound teachings and sparks of holiness from the simplicity and sincerity of the common folk. This dynamic suggests that while Torah knowledge is crucial, the heart and soul of everyday life and the unassuming wisdom of those less learned also hold valuable lessons. If these saints maintained airs of arrogance and superiority, they could not have lowered themselves enough to learn from these people.

As such, the journey of repentance is not solely about acquiring Torah knowledge but also about embracing an attitude of humility, recognizing that every individual, regardless of their level of scholarship, can contribute to our spiritual growth and understanding.

Embarking on a journey toward spiritual awakening demands more than merely following transient feelings or personal inclinations that feel good at the moment. There are so many divergent paths, and it is up to each individual to embark on the journey to explore its landscapes.

So we ask for help reading the map, the Torah – הֲשִׁיבֵנוּ אָבִינוּ לְתוֹרָתֶךָ.

How does it get you there?

Apart from the Torah being the key instrument to identify pathways, the Torah itself can inspire us to make amends as well.

Our sages teach that when a person has lost their way, teach them some Torah, and the light it contains will guide them back. A similar teaching imagines God saying that He could forgive the Jewish people if they forgot Him but kept the Torah because it would ultimately lead them back.

Our sages teaching that Torah study can inherently refine and elevate us presents an intriguing paradox. Sure, engaging with the Torah links our soul with the divine, but there are plenty of Torah teachings that are abstract and arcane, distantly removed from the practicalities of everyday life, offering little in the way of direct transformation of our daily routines or behaviors. This suggests that our sages teaching operates in a far more modest fashion, and our request for help returning to the Torah is desperately necessary because the Torah won’t return us all by itself; we need help – הֲשִׁיבֵנוּ אָבִינוּ לְתוֹרָתֶךָ.

The transformative power of Torah doesn’t operate on autopilot; it isn’t mechanical. Rather, it requires a conscious, deliberate effort to integrate its teachings into the fabric of our lives. The idea that Torah study alone can automatically reform us might be overly simplistic, overlooking the complex interplay between knowledge, action, and personal growth.

We seek more than academic study and retention of information. Far more than the particular information obtained from a learning session, the Torah has a potential restorative property that operates indirectly.

Some symptoms have to be treated directly – if you cut your finger, you need to clean and treat the wound. But some injuries are treated indirectly – you might treat back pain with exercise, an ergonomic chair and shoe inserts, or an ear infection with a course of antibiotics. If you’re struggling with a particular issue, tackle the issue.

Our approach to self-improvement and spiritual growth is similar; you can confront the symptom directly, identifying a specific negative behavior and resolving to stop it. This is akin to setting a boundary for yourself, a clear line in the sand, resolving not to do something anymore. It’s a necessary and effective strategy for immediate change, marking a critical first step in the journey of self-betterment.

However, there exists a more profound, transformative approach that goes beyond merely addressing the symptom. It involves recognizing that the negative behavior is not only undesirable but fundamentally beneath our potential. This perspective invites us to level up and grow to see ourselves as inherently capable of more than our missteps suggest. It’s an internal call to action: You’re better than that, and engaging in such behaviors is a disservice to your true self.

In this framework, it’s not about overcoming a flaw but transcending it entirely, cultivating a mindset where the negative behavior becomes alien to our nature, where the thought of succumbing to it again would be personally disappointing, letting and yourself down.

We pray for the connection and direction that can truly shape our lives, aligning and guiding us toward our highest and best selves and the fulfillment of our sacred potential – – וְקָרְבֵנוּ מַלְכֵּנוּ לַעֲבוֹדָתֶךָ וְהַחֲזִירֵנוּ בִּתְשׁוּבָה שְׁלֵמָה לְפָנֶיךָ.

Shlomo the baller

I am extremely competitive, and one my passions has always been basketball.

On the courts in the evenings, between my ability and intensity, the people I played with couldn’t believe when I would tell them that I am a rabbi. But there was one way I convinced them every time.

I asked them if they’d heard me swear.

My rosh yeshiva growing up said that playing ball is idol worship; I think he probably meant that losing control on the field is like idol worship, which is pretty accurate. Losing yourself to anger, pride, or even a game is a false idol.

One time, the Rosh Yeshiva came over to the best guy in yeshiva. He’d noticed a particular trait of arrogance creeping into the demeanor of a boy known for his sharp intellect and diligence. The Rosh Yeshiva pulled him aside and told him he was the best, a sparkling diamond, but that this behavior didn’t suit him. It was the best mussar I ever heard, and it wasn’t even to me, and it wasn’t even about anything in particular.

You’re a diamond! It wasn’t a reprimand but an affirmation of the boy’s worth and a call to align his actions with his true essence.

הֲשִׁיבֵנוּ אָבִינוּ – Father, return us

As the source of all existence, God is the Father of all things in the most literal sense; our sages refer to the Creator as our third parent.

One of the key features of the Torah’s characterization of the relationship between humanity and Creation is the role of a covenantal partnership, with mutual expectations and commitments central to understanding both parties’ roles.

As such, God expects us to observe the Torah, but to a certain extent, we can have the same expectation of God. Moshe successfully makes the argument to God that if humans are called to be godly and display compassion, then the Creator must do so as well. We can notionally assume that God adheres to the principles laid out in the Torah if it is to serve as a model for human conduct because if we are to emulate God’s ways, God, too, must act in a manner consistent with the teachings of the Torah. This reciprocity underscores a shocking dynamic that features prominently in the stories of our ancestors; just as we strive to live up to the Torah’s ideals, we might also hold God to the standards of justice, mercy, and righteousness that the Torah espouses.

Invoking our relationship to God as Father highlights the duties a father’s duty; the Torah requires fathers to teach their children Torah and its values – vshinantam lvanecha.

In this prayer, we ask for something similar: Father, we want to do the right thing, we want to make You proud. Please trust with your secrets; please guide in what is right and proper – הֲשִׁיבֵנוּ אָבִינוּ לְתוֹרָתֶךָ.

Moreover, this dynamic captures a healthy approach to repentance and making amends. Whatever mistakes you’ve made, this phrase captures the fundamental belief in the enduring bond between Creator and creation, likening it to the unconditional relationship between a parent and a child; you might have let Father down a bit, but Father doesn’t give up on us, and you can still ask for some help, for what you need, always ready to welcome us back, eager for our return.

Despite our failings and transgressions, we ever remain children of God; the relationship is inviolable and cannot be tainted, affirming our intrinsic worth and potential for transformation and renewal.

We declare our hope and faith in the power of repentance, the act of coming home, returning, and rediscovering our true selves – הֲשִׁיבֵנוּ אָבִינוּ.

לְתורָתֶךָ – to Your Torah

(!ed Shlomo – consider No True Scotsman fallacy)

We pray for assistance, for help returning to God’s Torah.

This phrase implies the surprising existence of a Torah that is not God’s.

Our sages reiterate that the main thing is not theory but practice; that study is only worthwhile when it leads to practice. The Chafetz Chaim notes that observing the commandments is only any good when we live in alignment with the divine attributes.

The Torah consistently self-describes in multiple places and voices as being a particular way; learning and living with that authentic understanding is in alignment with the divine intent – לְתורָתֶךָ.

Love your neighbour is the principle of reciprocity that is one of the foundations of all morality. Its ways are pleasant; God’s Torah is marked by a life of pleasantness, grace, peace, kindness, and moral integrity.

God’s Torah is perfect; it restores the soul and enlightens the simple – toras hashem temima. The meta-principle of God’s Torah is that it has transformative properties rooted in divine wisdom; it has the power to rejuvenate the spirit and imbue individuals with wisdom, guiding us towards a path of goodness, humility, and understanding.

The litmus test of whether it’s God’s Torah or not is whether our interactions make us kinder and more compassionate. Someone living by God’s Torah speaks the truth, is honest, just, and upright, committed to helping the oppressed and vulnerable, the widows and orphans in our communities.

The reality is that it is theoretically possible to engage with the Torah in a manner that does not reflect what it means to live by these values. There are individuals who study the Torah and are deeply flawed and in blind denial of those flaws. Despite their knowledge of the Torah, they may exhibit behaviors and attitudes that are deeply flawed, characterized by judgmentalism, arrogance, self-righteousness, or a lack of sensitivity and compassion. Such people are awful; that’s not God’s Torah.

That actually extends beyond Torah to many other things, too; there is a world of difference between knowing information and the wisdom of understanding how to put it into practice.

Bring us

Our heartfelt prayer to return to Torah is universal, ranging from the most distant soul who just learned their mother is Jewish to the most strictly observant bearded and hatted, and every point on the spectrum in between and beyond.

Ostensibly distant or close, every single one of us yearns for connection, a bridge that connects us all and brings us closer to our roots, traditions, and a sense of belonging.

People immersed in daily practices of Torah study also yearn for authentic connection to God’s Torah. Beyond strict observance and scholarly pursuits, they seek a deeper, more intimate bond with the Creator that transcends the performance of commandments.

Standing at the Western Wall, you can stand on clear panels and look down through the glass at the archaeological discoveries below. You realize that you’re at the place your ancestors stood, but you’re not actually standing in the place they stood at all; so close yet so far, a profound sense of proximity to, yet distance from, the sacred history of the Jewish People.

We cherish our heritage, touching ground that has been the focal point of Jewish prayers and dreams for millennia, yet we are also far, separated not just by physical layers unearthed by archaeologists but by the expanse of time and the evolution of tradition. We cannot stand where our ancestors stood.

On our mission to live a life of meaning and purpose, we may try hard to live according to our values and study Torah, and yet, we might still feel a sense of missing something crucial, of not quite reaching the spiritual heights of our ancestors or achieving the intimate closeness with God that we seek.

If that feels like you sometimes, just ask for a hand – הֲשִׁיבֵנוּ אָבִינוּ לְתוֹרָתֶךָ.

Find your piece

This blessing doesn’t have a sequence of phased requests; it consists of one request with natural consequences. If we felt like children connected to Father’s Torah, we would live in God’s service in states of complete repentance.

The word Torah literally means instructions.

You might expect that everyone gets the same instructions; it would be weird if the flat-pack furniture company sent out custom instructions for every order.

But you are a human, not a coffee table, and you actually do have custom instructions.

The Zohar suggests that at the revelation at Sinai, every soul received a bespoke portion of Torah uniquely tailored to its level, needs, and spiritual mission; this teaching suggests that Torah is not a monolithic entity but a multifaceted revelation, encompassing myriad paths, missions, and directions, each designed to resonate with the individual soul, and what I am called to is not the same as what you are called to.

Understanding that each soul has its own Torah means recognizing that our engagement with Torah should be marked by personal growth, spiritual enrichment, and a clearer sense of direction in our lives. If we find ourselves learning without effect, it may be an invitation to seek out new approaches or aspects of Torah that align more closely with our innermost selves. It’s a journey of finding how the infinite wisdom of the Torah can speak directly to us, guiding us toward our unique path and mission.

In this light, the Torah becomes more than a text; it is a living, breathing guide that interacts uniquely with each soul. The challenge and beauty of Torah study lie in discovering how it speaks to you, how it moves you, and how it shapes the direction of your life. When we find that connection, we discover not just the Torah of our ancestors but the Torah of Hashem, a divine directive that continuously guides, nurtures, and transforms us. It is well worth taking the time to identify the parts of the Torah that engage you and set your soul on fire and to find the teachers and spiritual guides that understand you and can unlock your greatness.

When things feel stagnant and nothing seems to move you, it may signal a disconnect or misunderstanding in your engagement with Torah, indicating that you have not yet located your sweet spot.

But if the Torah is our instruction manual for living, it clearly outlines the free will and responsibility of our choices between good and evil, life and death.

Some things don’t need instructions at all; don’t put your hand in a blender, don’t slam your finger in the car door. Yet, applying the Torah’s teachings is not always straightforward. When you have a headache, you take a painkiller. One of the side effects of common painkillers is a headache! If the side effects were a guaranteed outcome, one might question the wisdom of taking the medicine at all.

If we could see with perfect clarity, who would ever make bad choices, who would ever choose the path of death? The reality is that humans are complex creatures in a complex world, clouded by uncertainty, biases, desires, and misunderstandings. People might have their interpretations of Torah, influenced by personal inclinations or societal pressures, and justify actions at odds with essential teachings.

If everything was crystal clear to us, we wouldn’t make mistakes, but it’s not crystal clear, and we do make mistakes. Our sages teach that at the gathering at Mount Sinai, the Creator instructed Moshe to ensure that the people would not touch the mountain, and Moshe felt like he didn’t need to because God’s command alone would suffice to keep them away; an instinctive recognition of its sanctity and a natural inclination to comply.

At a fundamental level, we are aware of certain moral absolutes that should not be crossed. If someone threatened to kill you unless you killed a child, that’s a boundary most people would intuitively recognize as unthinkable.

But the human capacity for rationalization and self-justification makes it possible, and sometimes all too easy, to twist textual interpretations and manipulate religious or moral arguments to serve personal biases or agendas. This trickery fools others, and some people even fool themselves.

Medicine doesn’t always work; the interactions of biology, chemistry, and diagnostics are complex. But gasoline will always catch fire. It’s a simple reaction by the very nature of its chemical structure; that’s what it is, that’s what it does, and that’s how it works. In fact, if you light something and it doesn’t catch fire, you can be sure it’s not gasoline!

Unbiased learning leads to natural learning; the Torah is a gift is a divine gift designed for human benefit and development, and God isn’t in the business of deceit or trickery. It’s designed to give us what we need. If we approach it with an honest attempt. A sincere approach without biases, prejudices, and preconceived notions will have a natural gravitattional pull toward the truths and lessons of goodness and kindness.

Storytime

When I lived in Jerusalem, I was walking on Rechov Bar Ilan one Shabbos, and an unfortunate soul drove his car up the road. A group of Yerushalmi Jews screamed and spat, “SHABBOS!!!” throwing rocks at the car.

I watched this exchange and, a few minutes later, approached the group and asked them about their own Shabbos observance. Rocks don’t have a functional use on Shabbos, and fall under the category of things that are set aside for Shabbos – muktzeh.

How could they throw rocks on Shabbos?

“Well, you see, we actually prepared these rocks before Shabbos! They are designated especially for throwing.”

They followed the laws of Shabbos scrupulously; there is no faulting them there. But they completely failed the laws of Moses.

Another Shabbos, I was nearby, and another car drove through the neighborhood. The most beautiful, sweet, Yerushalmi man was walking toward me with a beard as white as snow, and I wondered how he’d react.

He closed his eyes and stopped moving for a moment, and whispered to himself, “Shabbos, Shabbos.”

He was disturbed and didn’t want to condition himself to normalizing or desensitizing himself to it. But shouting and throwing rocks was not going to be effective, and being judgmental or hateful would probably foreclose any future opportunities for religious engagement as well.

וְקָרְבֵנוּ מַלְכֵּנוּ לַעֲבודָתֶךָ – and draw us near, our King, to Your service

Having asked our Father to return us to Torah, we follow up by asking the King to draw us closer to divine service.

This highlights a nuanced aspect of the relationship between humanity and the Divine, beyond the intimate father-son dynamic to encompass the broader, more complex sphere of obligation and voluntary devotion, God as our King.

In our spiritual and religious lives, there are different forms of labor or service, the voluntary and the mandated, the things we want to do, and the things we have to do. This reflects the inherent tension between our obligations and our desires, between the duties we are bound to perform and the acts of service we are drawn to out of love, passion, or personal conviction, as well as things we are supposed to do, but don’t enjoy doing – meleches avodas haBorei.

There are the things everyone has to do that are foundational aspects of Jewish life, and there are other things like a little more Torah study and some random acts of kindness and charity. The things we have to do ensure a basic structure to commitment and observance, and the voluntary acts of service allow for personal expression and deeper spiritual engagement. Both are essential.

We ask for the strength and dedication to fulfill our obligations and for the inspiration and desire to go beyond them, a balanced blend of blending commitment and passion, for the guidance and grace to navigate the complexities of religious life, obligation with love, in our continual effort to serve the Creator with all our heart, soul, and might – וְקָרְבֵנוּ מַלְכֵּנוּ לַעֲבודָתֶךָ.

The concept of “meleches avodas haBorei” – the work of serving the Creator – encapsulates two distinct forms of labor or service in our spiritual and religious lives: the voluntary and the mandated. This duality reflects the inherent tension between our obligations and our desires, between the duties we are bound to perform and the acts of service we are drawn to out of love, passion, or personal conviction.

King

R’ Chaim Brisker sharply asserts that a servant who only follows 99.9% of his boss’s instructions is not truly a servant at all. This principle, while exceedingly strict, highlights the depth of commitment expected in the traditional interpretation of our service to God.

If someone conforms to 99.9% of the Torah but has a self-serving agenda overall, are they serving God at all?

However, when we apply this concept to our relationship with the Divine, it is crucial to understand the nature of this dynamic not as characterized by coercion or unwillingness; there are no whips or chains.

Imagine living in a tyrannical regime rife with corruption and lawlessness. Eventually, the neighboring king can no longer tolerate the instability on his border and invades and overthrows the government. If the new king invests in building roads, schools, and public infrastructure, generally improving the well-being and prosperity of his subjects, he will be absolutely loved.

To this day, the British monarchy is beloved, providing a sense of national identity and stability. When the public perceives the monarch as benevolent and enlightened, they are proud to be subjects; that’s what happened at Mount Sinai.

There are so many rules, and they can be hard to keep. Kosher, Shabbos, gossip, honesty, modesty, and more. We want to be okay with humbling ourselves and acting properly, to love serving the Creator. We want to recognize the beauty and specialness of our beliefs and practices, finding connection and joy in them, to experience their richness and depth, to discover the intrinsic value and profound satisfaction that come from living in harmony with our heritage.

If you have a rebellious streak, this one is for you – וְקָרְבֵנוּ מַלְכֵּנוּ לַעֲבודָתֶךָ.

לַעֲבודָתֶךָ

What is God’s service?

This term is conventionally understood in two primary ways: as a reference to observance in general, encapsulating all aspects of Jewish life and law, or more specifically, as denoting prayer, the service of the heart, emphasizing that prayer is not just as a duty or ritual but as something that requires sincerity, concentration, and emotional engagement, underscoring the significance of seeking divine assistance even in our ability to pray effectively.

If someone grows up learning to only look left when you cross the road, that looking both ways is for crazy people, that person has no chance considering they have been taught to ignore a basic safety principle. When a family teaches poor life practices or distorted interpretations of Torah principles, the children are predisposed to follow the same path, underscoring the heavy responsibility parents hold in shaping their children’s understanding of the world and guiding their moral compass. One can only hope that free will shines through, that despite the challenges and predispositions resulting from their upbringing, they find the right teachers and influences, and use their capacity to question, learn, and ultimately choose their own path.

We all face the danger of absorbing or inheriting flawed perspectives and behaviors that can impact our moral direction and compromise our integrity with misguided principles. We affirm the necessity of divine grace to overcome the physical, spiritual, or emotional distances that separate us from the Divine – וְקָרְבֵנוּ מַלְכֵּנוּ לַעֲבודָתֶךָ.

Free will

Does asking for help violate the principle of free will?

As much as we believe in free will, there is so much we don’t get to choose: our parents, health, intelligence, and so on. Why weren’t you born to Medieval peasants in China?

The axis of free will in our lives is the specific point of choice at which our inclinations for good and bad are in equilibrium – nekudas habechira.

Choosing to ask for righteousness and to be free from negative influences is a profound exercise of free will that signals a desire to transform our inner world to be in alignment of our deepest desires with the values of integrity, and goodness. Beyond action and behavior; the aspiration to be a certain way, to cultivate a character that inherently leans towards righteousness, is both noble and challenging. It requires constant vigilance, self-awareness, and a commitment to growth.

The point of choice is not static; it shifts as we evolve, presenting new challenges and opportunities for growth – וְקָרְבֵנוּ מַלְכֵּנוּ לַעֲבודָתֶךָ.

וְהַחֲזִירֵנוּ בִּתְשׁוּבָה שְׁלֵמָה לְפָנֶיךָ – cause us to return in complete repentance before You

As the Kotzker says, sin is like thick mud that clogs and jams the marvelous machinery of the human mind – שׁוּבָה יִשְׂרָאֵל עַד ה אֱלֹהֶיךָ כִּי כָשַׁלְתָּ בַּעֲונֶךָ.

But the solution isn’t the deflated repentance of brokenness and low self-esteem. No, thank you!

We pray for a repentance that is complete, not only thorough but also transformative.

We want our repentance to be complete and unwavering, with a resolve never to revert back to previous misdeeds, where any inclination to repeat past mistakes is eradicated. This level is challenging, requiring not only a change in behavior but a fundamental shift in heart and mind – בִּתְשׁוּבָה שְׁלֵמָה.

We want our repentance to encompass us as complete individuals, emphasizing the holistic nature of wholesome repentance. We want more than superficial change limited to specific actions; we want to uplift our whole being — transforming every aspect of  life, in thought, emotion, action, and spirit – בִּתְשׁוּבָה שְׁלֵמָה.

In the same way it’s possible to study Torah and not live its values; it’s possible to practice values and not believe in them at all. Someone might avoid certain behaviors, like stealing, not out of any belief that it is wrong, but due to the desire to maintain social standing, ensure personal gain, or adhere to societal conventions. While resulting in outwardly acceptable behavior, this approach lacks the depth and sincerity that are central to Jewish life.

Is the staff member caring for special needs children because they are a kind person who cares about other people, or are they totally self-absorbed and it just looks really good on a resume?

We want to go far beyond compliance with social norms or strategic navigation of communal expectations, so we ask for help living the spirit of the law to its absolute maximum – וְהַחֲזִירֵנוּ בִּתְשׁוּבָה שְׁלֵמָה לְפָנֶיךָ.

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה’ הָרוֹצֶה בִּתְשׁוּבָה

The interplay of Divine action and human agency is a core idea in Jewish thought, capturing the complex relationship between God’s sovereignty and individual free will.

Who moves first?

The question of who is acting, whether we learn Torah by our own initiative or are returned to it by God, and the necessity of asking for divine assistance all touch on this dynamic.

One of Judaism’s foundational principles is that while the Creator does whatever the Creator does, free will means we have the ability to want something and ask for help. Our sages teach that a voice echoes from Sinai every day, “Return, my wayward children!”

This teaching suggests that despite the constant and perpetual invitation to return, humans have to tune in and choose to listen and respond to that call. When we listen, the voice of Sinai sounds a lot like our moments of regret, yearning, conscience, and aspiration. God is always waiting, ever ready to welcome us back with open arms, but the act of returning is ours to undertake.

Our sages had the deepest respect for free will and the power of choice, teaching that the the universe leads us to the places we want to go – bderech adam rata leilech moichin oso CITE.

If you want to be a better person and you succeed, you succeeded because you wanted it, illustrating a fundamental truth about human agency and the power of desire. All a person has is their will, which is not merely a passive longing but an active force that shapes our spiritual and moral life.

This framework highlights the tremendous value of the intention behind our actions, the importance of conscious decision-making, and the power of our deepest desires.

As we affirmed in the blessing for wisdom, all we have is a choice between the right thing and the wrong thing; God does the heavy lifting, but you have to want the right thing. Our lives are just a semantic tree of decisions, each choice branching into subsequent decisions, creating a complex network of paths that define our lives. Every fork of choice represents an opportunity to exercise our free will, to choose actions aligned with our deepest values and aspirations, or not.

We can’t do it by ourselves. We can’t repent on our own, what if we learn the wrong Torah?

So we ask for help. We are trying, and that has to be enough, it is enough.

We come with humility and realism about the human condition and the complexity and challenges of truly understanding Torah and discerning the right path amidst life’s ambiguities and our own limitations.

When you set your mind to see the best in something, you will likely find what you are looking for. That’s true for relationships, as well as seeing the worst. Intention and perception wield enormous influence in shaping our experiences and outcomes. In the context of this prayer, this principle reveals a comforting and hopeful aspect of divine compassion: God’s desire for our return, even valuing the weakest attempt at teshuva.

As the blessing concludes, we praise God not for accepting our repentance, but for desiring it. We place deep trust in God’s mercy and understanding to find grace in our attempts to live righteously and learn Torah.

Our sages teach that those who have mastered repentance have standing that even the completely righteous do not; this teaching highlights the exceptional value of the sincere effort and struggle of seekers, even if the path is fraught with challenges and missteps.

Numerology

(!ed Shlomo – please explain this to me again)

There are 15 words in this blessing, which is the length of each half of the lunar cycle, with 15 days of a waxing crescent new moon and 15 days of a waning moon.

The lunar cycle represents from full illumination to complete darkness and back again, mirrors the spiritual journey of the Jewish People and the individual soul’s journey of renewal, resilience, and the fluctuating nature of life.

The moon wanes from full brightness to complete darkness, only to reemerge once again; we all experience periods of diminishment and resurgence, and renewal always lies ahead, within each person and community, regardless of the magnitude of challenges faced.

Here’s the thing.

Even though the moon looks smaller, it didn’t actually get smaller at all.

It was enormous throughout, and its size remained unchanged.

What changes is that in certain moments, you only see it partly illuminated.

It looks smaller when the Earth gets in the way; the earth can obscure the moon’s light, creating phases and eclipses. Physicality and material pursuits can overshadow our spiritual essence and impact our visibility and integrity.

speaks to the enduring essence and strength of the Jewish people. Despite periods of darkness or diminishment, whether through persecution, exile, or internal struggles, the intrinsic identity and vitality of the Jewish people, like the moon’s size, remain unchanged. What varies is the illumination—the visible expression of that inherent strength.

Within each of us is a part that doesn’t get blocked, the pintele Yid, where there exists a genuine desire for return and renewal, that yearns to reconnect with our highest self and with the Divine.

Arcane things

(!ed Shlomo – I don’t understand this very well, does it belong)

15 ingredients build mishkan

connects heaven to earth

world bridge

15 steps levites sang on on beis hamikdash

7 heavens and 7 spaces with 1 kisei hakavod

ata kadosh yoshev tehilos

15 is yud hey

hey is oepn and closing letter

yud is middle letter

people vasciallate

but in the middle is pure spirituality

the central axis is yud

the single point

pintele yid

This means although you have to do your hishdadlus and put the work in, essentially if you want something enough that it can be considered as you’ve done it. The Gemara (Megilla 6b) says “If a person says I have worked hard but have not found [success], don’t believe him. [If a person says] I have not exerted myself, and I have found [success], don’t believe him. [If he says] I gave it my all and I have found [success], believe him!”.  This is the only combination that works.  Since even a person’s work is Hashem, the only thing he has power over is his free will. This means if you take everything away – your guf, your talents, your abilities, the only thing you have control over is Hakol bidei shamayim chutz miyiras shamayim (Gemara Brachos 33b).  If a person really wants something enough it will happen.

Even when a person decides to do something, at every second Hashem has to give you the strength to continue doing that.

E.g. Let’s say you’re not religious, and you decide to wear a kippa.  You walk in the street and the mailman makes a comment. Then the postman makes a comment. Then you see people across the street who know you. At every second you are choosing to keep wearing the kippa/not remove it.

Same with our choices. At every second we’re making the decision. But it’s Hashem who is actually giving the strength.  Because all we are able to bring to the table is our ratzon.

That’s not to say anything is taken away from you – it’s still wholeheartedly your mizvah.  But understand, the mitzvah is not expressed in it’s doing, but rather in its desire. That’s the difference between us and animals. Humans are tzelem elokim.  Until we were created, only Hashem had the power to ‘choose what He wanted to do’ so to speak. Then we were created and the power was also given to us.  And just because Hashem has foreknowledge of my choices, it doesn’t change my bechira.  Hashem is above time – this is how He knows what decision I’m going to make. But it’s still my decision to make. If I hadn’t made that decision, He would still know, but in that case He would know I didn’t make that choice.

So we’re saying here that we don’t have the power to do real teshuva, it’s too hard. We don’t have the power or willingness or da’as to be able to decide what is toratenu and toratecha. But we’re trying to find it.  And that has to be enough.  And that must be enough. If you’re trying your best to find it that’s good enough.

Words in Bracha

There are 15 words in this bracha. And the concept of 15 is one with many ramifications. All of which relate to the essence of this bracha.

Another ramification of 15 comes from the mishkan being created with 15 ingredients.  The mishkan is an element that connects Earth to the heavens. When klal Yisroel lost their ability to connect directly to Hashem, Hashem allowed us to have a mishkan.

It goes further. There were 15 steps in the beis HaMikdash that led a person up from the other region to the inner region. The leviim used to sing on these steps. It was these 15 steps that led a person closer and closer to Hashem, with increasing purity.

A level above the beis HaMikdash, chazal tell us there are 7 heavens and 7 spaces between them.  The kisei HaKavod is the highest, 15th, level.

Through our teshuva, we bring ourselves back, from the earth to the mishkan, from the mishkan to the stairs, from the stairs to the kisei HaKavod.

One final step. 15 is divisible by 10 and 5.  The Hebrew letters that represent this are yud and hey.  The Talmud mentions that, (and the Gemara in Menachos 29b asks why), Hashem created this world, Olam HaZeh with the letter hey, and Olam HaBa with the letter yud.  We begin the bracha with the letter hey of hashiveniu.  We end the bracha with the hey of teshuva, and the exact middle letter is a yud.  Through the process of teshuva, and through our work in saying the 15 words of this bracha, we are able to go from this world, and attain Olam HaBa.  Despite a person constantly swinging from on element of Olam HaZeh and taivos, to another element, represented by the hey’s at the beginning and end of the bracha, all a person needs to recognise is that at his very core, in the middle of him, exists Olam HaBa.  At his very core is spirituality.

If you ever think there is some level that is beyond you, or you feel like you’ve been pushed away, recognise that your essence is pure and holy. That is the beauty and treasure hidden inside every Jewish neshama, and if you could only get the Earth out the way, you’d be able to see it in its full glory.

הָרוצֶה בִּתְשׁוּבָה:

Thank Gd that the Being I’m davening to is You, who wants to see even the tiniest aspect of teshuva as teshuva. How beautiful

The age of prophecy and revelation ended long ago; how do you ever know if you’re on the right track? That your mental model of the world is accurate and precise? For a start, the self-awareness to ask the question is half the battle.

God doesn’t directly and openly communicate with us, but there are always little signs and indicators if we look for them. When we meet people who are able to open our horizons, when we read books and learn things that expand our consciousness, when we find ourselves in situations that challenge us, and we audit whether we have it right.

He opens our eyes to this. We just have to be looking.  We have to believe we have the coach.  It can’t be that Hashem gave us something we can’t figure out, because there would be no point in that. No-one writes a long work email to a vendor who doesn’t speak English; if God is talks to us in a language we don’t understand, we need to have the understanding to take it to someone to help interpret what it could. Maybe He’s telling you to go to da’as Torah for some guidance.  If you’re attempting to interpret the message l’sheim shamayim, you’ll figure it out, because you’re doing your best.

Aseh lecha rav

Freifeld hutner story, god talks to us every day?