blogs/rabbi-huberman

Many years ago, long before I became a rabbi, I served as a synagogue president.

It was a challenging two years, as our temple transitioned from one spiritual leader to another—some favored rehiring the rabbi, others not so much.

It divided our community in many ways.

Ultimately, the matter was resolved, but of course—as with all things Jewish—not everyone was happy.

And so, immediately after the second day of Rosh Hashanah, I contacted one of our congregants and said, “Maybe with this issue behind us, we can meet for lunch and return to who we used to be when we were friends.”

To which he replied: “You can’t fool me. You only want to have lunch because you’re trying to clean the slate before Yom Kippur.”

And I responded: “Exactly.”

Unfortunately, we never completely renewed our friendship nor pursued a new beginning, as our tradition beckons us to do during this time of year. 

This brings us to this Shabbat, which—aside from the Shabbat before Pesach—was the only time of the year when the rabbis actually addressed the congregation.

On that Shabbat, they frequently focused on the topic of “return.” It is why this Sabbath is known as Shabbat Teshuvah.

Teshuvah has been widely linked with the idea of forgiveness—encouraging Jews to let go of their grudges and resentments—but its root is more accurately connected with the verb Lashuv, to return.

The question remains, “What are we returning to?”

As we consider the time between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, the issue becomes what the word Teshuvah means to each of us.

For some it is accepting or requesting forgiveness.

For others it’s the capacity to identify the good within every human being, rather than identify their frailties.

I may be wrong but in recent years, I’ve observed that our capacity to practice kindness, patience, and forgiveness has eroded substantially.

These days, we tend to pursue podcasts, websites, and television channels that reflect our points of view. We have become entrenched in our truths.

We used to be a culture that exchanged ideas. Now we share links.

There is so much for us to consider on this Shabbat—the Sabbath of Return.

Remember when we took long walks and left our phones behind?

Remember when silence was precious?

Remember when our willingness to forgive or seek forgiveness was easier?

Three weeks ago, before Rosh Hashanah, I ordered about 300 “affirmation stones” bearing various words and messages.

I suggested congregants take one of those stones home as a reminder to pursue change from now to Yom Kippur.

This week, I needed to re-order them because, within hours, stones carrying words like, “forgive,” “gratitude,” “kindness,” “care,” and “change,” among others, were quickly scooped up.

What a simple and revealing way to reflect what the High Holidays are really about. One word. One change. One step forward. One moment of return.

The year, while still in Canada, before I decided to become a rabbi, I asked the spiritual leader of one of our Orthodox communities whether—aside from a handful of historically heinous individuals—there is such thing as a truly evil person.

And he answered, “We are all unique under God’s heaven. Who knows why a person is the way they are.”

He then paused for moment, gently closed his eyes and continued.

“We are all Cadillacs. It’s just that some people have a bit more mud to wash off than others.”

Indeed, if we could peel back the onion, or wave a magic wand, what would we return to?

Increased patience and kindness?

Taking time to consider and express gratitude?

Spending less time talking and more time listening?

Let us on this Shabbat and on the days leading up to Yom Kippur reflect upon returning to a time of teshuvah—of becoming or returning to being the person we wish to be.

To consider the layers we need to peel away.

Or, as my rabbi friend inspired me to consider on that day, “Where is the mud that we need to wash away?”

G’Mar Chatimah Tovah. Shanah Tovah. Shabbat shalom.

Rabbi Irwin Huberman