We spend our lives trying to change the people we love. It is an exhausting, noble, and ultimately limited strategy.
The Chafetz Chaim would say he set out to change the world—and failed. So he tried to change Polish Jewry — and failed. Then his hometown of Radin — and failed. Then his own family — and failed. Finally, he focused on changing himself. And in the end, that is how he changed the world.
We read Parshas HaTeshuva every year on the Shabbos before Rosh Hashanah, and the Torah hands us a roadmap. In one of the most hopeful sections in the entire Torah, Hashem promises:
וּמָל ה’ אֱלֹקיךָ אֶת לְבָבְךָ וְאֶת לְבַב זַרְעֶךָ — Hashem will circumcise your heart — and the heart of your children (30:6)
It’s a beautiful promise, but notice the sequencing. Your heart first; then your children’s.
The Shinever Rov sees a profound lesson hidden in that sequence. If you want your children to do teshuvah, begin with yourself. Your own return will ignite theirs.
This is not merely practical advice — it is how the world actually works. Children don’t hear our lectures. They feel our energy. They absorb whether we are people who take our own inner lives seriously, who genuinely reckon with who we are and who we ought to be. A parent who does real, honest, vulnerable teshuvah sends a signal that ripples outward in ways no speech ever could.
The Yamim Noraim have a way of making us anxious about others — our children, our students, the people we love who seem distant from their own souls. The Torah’s answer is disarmingly simple: start closer. Start inside.
Before you look around the table, look in the mirror. That’s where teshuvah starts.