Judaism: Teshuva Drasha in Jerusalem 5774
Rabbi Shlomo RiskinThe writer is the founding and Chief Rabbi of Efrata, Gush Etzion, as well...
The Teshuva lecture this year is in memory of his beloved teacher and mentor, Rabbi Yosef Dov Soloveitchik zt"l.
Rabbi Riskin begins by talking about lectures given by Rabbi Soloveitchik, and how he defined himself as an "existential halakhist" in a Life Magazine interview, by which he meant that halakha speaks about every aspect of the human condition: love, fear, loneliness, joy, etc.
Rabbi Riskin extends that description of Jewish law to Rosh Hashana, describing the stringencies of his Rav with regard to shofar blowing.
The lecture is for listening only, as it was not filmed, just recorded.
Ohr Torah: Weekly Parsha Thoughts
"And Moses called unto Joshua, and said unto him in the sight of all Israel: 'Be strong and of good courage; for thou shalt go with this people into the land which the Lord has sworn to their fathers to give them; and you shall cause them to inherit it'" (Deuteronomy 31:7).
In last week's commentary on Rosh Hashana, the anniversary of the day on which the world was conceived, I explained the sighing-sobbing sounds of the shofar as the natural response of the Jew to an incomplete, imperfect world of evil as well as good, of chaos as well as order. We are entrusted with the mission of bringing down the Divine attributes of lovingkindness and courage, of compassionate righteousness and moral justice, to suffuse society with freedom and peace in order to perfect and complete the world in the Kingship of the Divine.
This is the message of the firm, exultant and victorious tekiya sound of the shofar, when we crown God as King of the Universe.
This task is not a simple one; it requires our becoming a holy nation and a kingdom whose every citizen is a successful teacher of morality to the world. Hence, Rosh Hashana begins a period of teshuva, or repentance, which must continue until it succeeds - however long that may take. It will require the cumulative commitment of many generations to the retelling and then reliving of the biblical narrative and to scrupulous observance of God's will.
Rosh Hashana is a joyous festival because we have God's biblical promise that we will eventually succeed.
We recite those verses of our success again and again in our Yom Kippur liturgy.
But there is a second significance to the broken, crying sound of the shofar. It is the existential sound of the individual who is living life within a vale of tears, who often doubts that this world will ever be perfected in the Kingship of the Divine, who always doubts that he will have the strength of will and character to make the world any better and who even doubts that the world had a Creator in the first place.
Although such a train of thought may initially release the questioner from certain ethical and ritual responsibilities, it can only lead to a dead end. If life is merely a "tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing," (Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5) why go through the struggle? The specter of a Sartrian world to which there is No Exit other than suicide hardly leaves one with a life worth living or worth reproducing. It only leaves one trembling in fear before a dark, black hole of nothingness.
These questions plagued the children of Israel in the wake of the sin of the Golden Calf. Having experienced the concern, the miracles and wonders of the Lord during the Exodus, as well as the riveting Revelation at Sinai at which they actually heard the Word of the Divine, how could they possibly have fallen prey to the orgiastic abandon of wild Dionysian debauchery? Moses, the source of their connection to God, had seemingly disappeared; they felt bereft and abandoned and so they lost themselves in a momentary "escape from freedom" and responsibility.
Moses is so frustrated that he smashes the sacred tablets. He beseeches God first to forgive Israel and then to teach the next generations how to deal with probable recurrences in the future. He says, "Make Your ways known to me," now the Israelites must act to find favor in your eyes, and "Show me Your glory in this world" - what truly characterizes You and Your relationship to us.
God then tells Moses to stand in the cleft of a rock in the mountain range of Sinai, to ready himself for the second Revelation, the continuation of the Ten Commandments; God will reveal to Moses His Name, His face, as it were, the aspect of God that may be grasped by the human mind.
And this is the Divine Revelation on the 10th day of Tishrei, Yom Kippur: "Havaya Havaya..." the Ineffable Name of God, of Havaya, which means literally "to bring into being, to create," and which the Talmudic sages identify as the God of infinite and unconditional love. The name is repeated twice, which our Sages interpret as, "I am the God who loves you before you sin and I am the God who loves you after you sin" - unconditional love (see Rashi to Exodus 34: 6). The first Havaya explains that since God's essence is love, His first human emanation, the human being, also has most fundamentally the transcendent power to love another and thereby to perfect himself and the world. The second Havaya explains that although the human being will fail and will sin along the way, God will always be ready to forgive us as long as we seek forgiveness.
And God goes one step further. Yes, in our imperfect and incomplete world, it is often difficult to find God, to sense His presence and recognize His concern. It is even more difficult to bring the Divine Majesty to this often corrupt and evil world. But once a year, God will seek us, God will "come down" to us in His cloud of glory, God will knock on our door with His gift of unconditional forgiveness. All we need do is open the door for Him and let Him in - into our hearts, where He can already be found and into our homes and our families. This is the magical gift of Yom Kippur, the day of consummate love.