Saturday, September 14, 2013

Yom Kippur 5774: High Holiday Word Play

What do you call an average-looking grassland? Plain plain. How would you describe an unsightly collection of 144 items: Gross gross. A super cool insect? Fly fly.

English homonyms are great. And I love a good pun just as much as the next nebbishy rabbinical student, but playing with English words…that’s small potatoes. Now, this may just be the reality of four-more years of school plus a lifetime in the rabbinate talking…but Hebrew Homonyms…that’s where it’s at.

An ancient language, tied to holy texts, given new, modern life by Eliezer Ben Yehuda in the late 19th Century, our modern Hebrew is continually growing and evolving to meet the needs of contemporary society. As you know, it is a language built on a series of three-letter roots. From each root, comes a host of words that, while all possessing an individual meaning, in their recitation recall the ideas and connotations of other words with that same root. But then, we come to the Hebrew homonym. A word spelled and pronounced exactly the same that, depending on the context, carries a different meaning.

Let’s start with a word that is familiar to us through our liturgy and a Reform vernacular…עולם. What does Olam mean? תיקון עולם: Repair of the WORLD. לעולם ועד: ForEVER and ever…an expression of time. ברוך אתה ה' אלהנו מלך העולם: Blessed are you, Adonai our God, Ruler of the UNIVERSE. This simple three letter root: ע ל ם gives us a single word, עולם, that can express time, space, and other worldly ideas. And even if we intend just one meaning, the connotation of its other definitions is also implied. So, when we read the prayer: אהבת עולם...do we describe God’s love of the world? God’s eternal, unending love, or a love that comes from the very existence and being of the universe? Back at school, for our weekly liturgy translation (the joys of rabbinical school on display!) a classmate of mine took to translating לעולם ועד as “To infinity and beyond” to keep these multilayered possibilities in his mind (and now mine, and maybe now yours) each time the phrase appeared. The exciting, challenging, and, at times baffling nature of the Hebrew language leaves unending room for interpretation of Torah, liturgy, and even day-to-day conversation. (Don’t worry…unending is a hyperbolic metaphor…the sermon will end eventually).

Now that we are warmed up…we can turn to the pivotal word of this day and of this season: תשובה. We say this word umpteen times throughout our service. We mention it in our daily High Holiday conversations. Even Stephen Colbert has the idea down pat. And this word ת ש ו ב ה is subject to the same multilayered meaning and connotative applications just like the word עולם.

During our services, when asked who by fire and who by water, we respond with “uteshuva, utefilah utzedakah maavirin et roah hagzeirah.”—“But Teshuva, prayer and charity temper the severe decree.” Teshuva is part of this all-powerful triumvirate that has the capacity to affect our fate and make our way toward meriting blessing, goodness, and life in the year to come.

But what do we mean when we say it? And, what are the other ideas that are implicitly brought up when we choose to use that word? In the dictionary (or on Google Translate), the word teshuva has three different meanings. So, let’s have a little “Teshuva 101 a survey course of Yom Kippur.” What might its different definitions of mean for this holiday, for our daily acts of teshuva, and the way we take advantage of the opportunity to “temper the severe decree.”

I think that when we say teshuva, we usually mean definition number one: “repentance.” It’s a simple definition, fits nicely into our High Holiday schema of judgment and forgiveness. And, frankly, it’s the way our prayer book translates it. Teshuva as repentance means recognizing our faults and saying sorry. It means being willing to vocalize our failings. In fact, this type of teshuva is a part of the traditional daily liturgy. Each day, three times a day, we say slach lanu ki chatanu, “forgive us for we have sinned.” We don’t just wait until the Days of Awe and Yom Kippur to do repentance; rather, our tradition encourages us to make it part of our regular practice to consider how we may have wrong others or committed offenses in the eyes of God, recognize our faults, and vocalize our remorse.

For many of us, true repentance also includes an aspect of restoration. Of seeing the wrong we have committed and then trying to make the situation better. And this leads us to definition number two: “Return.” Teshuva comes from the root “shuv” which means to return and teshuva is one of the noun forms that comes from this root. Ok…enough grammar. What is all this about return?

Some argue that it is a call to “return” to the right path and to return our hearts and minds to God. But, frankly, I think that’s a definition that is ultimately difficult to quantify and actualize. Let’s dive deeper. This word “return” also means something physical. For the Rambam, the great 12th Century philosopher, full repentance requires a series of steps. Yes, the person must vocalize his or her wrongdoings, but the true test of teshuva is when one returns to the same situation and acts differently. The repentance of teshuva necessitates a return and a physical embodiment of the remorse. It is not enough for the Rambam to just say “sorry,” there must also be a change in behavior. And only then, once we have reencountered the same situation and acted with our better judgment has teshuva been achieved.

This works well for the “sins against God” category, but what of our sins against another human being? How does the notion of return manifest itself in these scenarios when we may have caused harm? The person wronged is likely to be unsatisfied if the next time a chance for an insult comes along we desist or if we opt to not be negligent the next time a friend is in need of physical or emotion support.

We know that for sins between one man and another, the Day of Atonement does not atone until they have made peace with one another (and if we don’t know that flip back to page 314). Our teshuva, therefore requires a return. A return to the person whom we have wronged. To meet them face to face to give an honest apology, be forgiven, and to find a solution to the wrong committed.

Lastly within our second definition, we have a return that is mental rather than physical. Recalling a mistake is never easy. We tell ourselves stories to explain away our misdeeds or to wipe away an error through excuse gymnastics. To do teshuva, we can return in our minds to the place, to the time, and to the situation and honestly confront our deeds. When we recognize our faults instead of hiding behind a story we convince ourselves to be true, we can begin to work toward improving ourselves for the future.

And now, our third and final definition of teshuva: response. When a question is asked, the answer given is called a teshuva. But if teshuva is one of our ways to affect God’s decree, I want to get an A+ in teshuva, so I need to make sure that I know the answer to the question. So far, teshuva has been restoration and returning to situations and people where we have behaved poorly and repentance for the mistakes we have made.

I am a child of the Douglass Adams generation. I know the answer is 42, but to find the essence of the response of teshuva, we have to hunt for our question. And, like all great Jewish riddles, we can only find it through a story.

A rabbi named Zusya died and went to stand before the judgment seat of God. As he waited for God to appear, he grew nervous thinking about his life and how little he had done. He began to imagine that God was going to ask him, "Why weren't you Moses or why weren't you Solomon or why weren't you David?" But when God appeared, the rabbi was surprised. God simply asked, "Why weren't you Zusya?"[1]
Our call on this Day of Judgment to engage in teshuva does not ask us for something unattainable. As we read from the Torah portion today, lo bashamayim hi, it is not in heaven. It is within our grasp. We are called to do only what is reasonable to ask of us. And to work our hardest to be able to answer YES when asked the question “Are you striving to be the best you?” Teshuva, as an answer, calls us to consider what it means for Jason to be the most Jason. To be the best version of myself regardless of the situation. Full teshuva necessitates that I constantly ask myself if I am being my best self and working diligently to bring that person to the world.

A worthy task indeed. Surely this endeavor could temper the severe decree.

Our complete, homonym-filled rendition of teshuva may intend just one thing, but wrapped up within it are notions of vocalized recognition of wrong doing, apologies, doing the right thing the second time around, meeting those we’ve wronged face to face, and a constant effort to be our best selves. Whew. But, the call this day for teshuva does not ask that we spend our whole lives looking over our shoulders and chiding ourselves for our manifold sins and for our failure to live up to the person we know we can be. Rather, we ought to see in the truth of our daily actions and interactions. We need to recognize the wrongs we have committed and make amends for them. We can bring ourselves back to those places, to those people, to those situations where we have erred and find a way to repair what hurt and what brokenness we have caused. We can make it our daily practice to be present and to be aware of our impact on our world and in the lives of the people around us. In doing that, we will most surely be on a path to being the best Zusya we can be. Then, when challenging situations arise, when the opportunity to do right or to do wrong is put in front of us and we are asked how we will respond… we will have practiced and we will be ready to answer with kindness, with righteous, and with ahavat olam…eternal, unending love for the world around us.

[1] http://chippit.tripod.com/tales1.html

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