Much of the material in this short article is taken from
various Shiurim given by Rabbi M. Miller in Gateshead
Seminary.
Pangs of conscience, feelings of guilt, culpability . . .
any normal human being suffers from all these, some more and
some less. Especially at this time of year when our failings
seem more glaring than usual and we try to improve
ourselves.
When someone is riddled by guilt, it is frequently for
something over which he had no control, which makes the guilt
a negative feeling. It will not help him to repentance; on
the contrary it may lead to clinical depression. For example,
a teacher had occasion to reprimand an eleven-year-old girl
one afternoon. The girl went home, and that evening she was
riding her bike and was knocked over and killed: a terribly
tragic story. But the teacher blamed herself constantly for
perhaps being the cause of the child's carelessness. Nothing
her husband could say or do made the slightest difference.
After forty years, and psychiatric treatment, she is still
blaming herself.
Regret for something we have said or done, does lead to
repentance as long as we manage to admit the truth to
ourselves, for the enormity of the crime. It is human to make
excuses for ourselves and to push things into the
subconscious. Rabbenu Yona in his Shaarei teshuvoh
writes that even after many years have passed, and even after
we have tried to make amends, we still have to regret our
misdeeds. Rabbi Dessler writes that the more sincere the
regret, the greater a person becomes. This is a far cry from
our casual "Do you forgive me for anything I've done," before
Rosh Hashonoh or Yom Kippur.
Most of us offend and transgress without premeditation. This
being the case, we have to face up to our failings and work
out how to deal with them and how to prevent a repetition of
the sin next time we are in the same situation. Remorse is an
emotion: it takes us a lifetime to refine our emotions. We
are taught that if we recognize our true worth, the People
chosen by Hashem to be His, we will automatically feel
ashamed of our offense, that we have failed to obey Him
fully.
We are encouraged to repent at any time of the year, yet the
Aseres Yemei teshuvoh are particularly suited for
repentance. The whole year round, every wrongdoing stains our
soul. Once a year, before our destiny is sealed at
neilah, we are given the opportunity to remove the
stains we have acquired throughout the year. During these
Days of Awe, we wear 'protective clothing' as it were, like
an apron, to prevent ourselves from getting more stains. Thus
we will impose chumros, stringencies, upon ourselves
which we will not necessarily keep up throughout the year. It
is frustrating to find ourselves in exactly the same position
as we were the year before, in spite of last year's good
resolutions. However, our Father and King knows that we are
human and makes allowances for us, but not until we have
appeased our fellow man!
A member of Alcoholics Anonymous was told that the only cure
for him was not to enter a pub at all. He passed one public
house and a second one. Later that day he passed a third and
a fourth, using all his will power not to walk towards the
door. By the fifth pub (yes, there are a good many pubs in
England), he felt he needed a reward for his abstinence, and
decided that he deserved a drink. We can only be sure that
our remorse is complete, if we do not repeat the same
misdemeanor the next time we are in a position to do so. That
is not to say that we will not be tempted. We have said that
we are sorry, and are determined not to 'open the fifth
door.'
Do we get 'points' for good intentions? A bride and groom go
under the chuppah with the best intentions, determined
to be perfect. If they do not wholly succeed, they say that
love is blind, and the young couple (on the whole) do not
expect perfection from each other all the time. In the same
way, the Jews accepted the Torah as a bride, with every
intention of keeping it. Because of His love for us, Hakodosh
Boruch Hu accepts our aim to be good, each year again.
Children sit and write New Year cards to parents, friends,
classmates, older brothers and sisters, teachers: in fact
anyone with whom they have been in fleeting contact. Whether
they sport a picture of apples and honey, scales and a shofar
or the head of a sheep or a fish, these cards all have one
thing in common: the word 'sorry.' Most of us find it
extremely difficult to apologize sincerely. The difficulty
starts as soon as a child begins to think. When a mother or a
teacher has successfully concluded an inquiry, and has
discovered who the real culprit was, s/he might attempt to
make the protagonists apologize to each other.
This is a difficult task even with four-year-olds. They do
not like to eat humble pie. We too, are ashamed to admit that
we have done something wrong, we do not like humiliating our
ego, i.e. ourselves. There would be far fewer divorces if
only the partners in a marriage had been educated from their
childhood to apologize sincerely. If children see that their
parents ask each other for forgiveness, they will probably
emulate them. "I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting for
dinner," or "You asked me to fetch your suit from the dry
cleaners this morning, and warned me that they were closed in
the afternoon. I thought that they were open and I was wrong.
I'm sorry." A mother has to apologize to her child, or a
teacher to his student. "I'm sorry I hurt your feelings, I
did not mean to. Please forgive me." This will not detract
from the older person's authority in the least. On the
contrary, the child will feel that apologizing is part and
parcel of life!
We ourselves have to know the significance of an apology, of
saying 'forgive me,' and we have to teach our children that
it is a serious matter. Youngsters make a joke out of
stopping each passer by before Yom Kippur with a flippant
'f'give me, f'give me,' as they hurry past. Sincere
forgiveness towards someone who has wronged us, is almost as
difficult as asking for forgiveness. However, since we ask
the One Above repeatedly, to forgive us, how dare we, however
much we feel wronged, deny a supplicant the forgiveness he
requests, as long as he is sincere.
