Shabbat Shuvah

I recently read a story of a young student who found a large map of the world in the newspaper. The student brought the map to school, but, unfortunately, during the day, the newspaper fell on the floor and got torn into many, many pieces. Fragments of paper had fallen on the floor, and on the child's desk. Seeing an opportunity to turn the child's dismay into a learning experience, the teacher handed her a roll of tape, and challenged the student to reassemble the map of the world.

The student dropped to the floor and, in short order, completed the assignment by correctly taping together each of the pieces of the whole world. Where only minutes before there was an image of a torn and crumpled newspaper, crumpled and strewn across the floor, now it was recreated as an intact whole.

Returning to the teacher's desk with the map correctly taped together, the teacher was amazed. The teacher asked her how it had been possible to reassemble the fragmented world so quickly. The child's response was short and to the point: "There was a picture of a person on the back side. I repaired that one person and the whole world got fixed, too."

It's not hard to understand the metaphor of this sweet story: as our world is broken, so too are we. We are broken in many ways: we have disappointed ourselves in some way; we have not treated a loved one in the way that we should have. Perhaps we are dealing with a personal, or professional failure that is hard to cope with.

During the High Holy Days, especially, we acknowledge our shortcomings, and work to repair it. In Judaism, this process of repair is called teshuva. The word teshuva comes from the word Shuva, or Shuv, which literally means to turn, or perhaps, return. On Rosh Hashanah, the New Year, we began this journey, by judging ourselves, and by being judged by God. On Shabbat Shuvah, the Sabbath of Repentance, we continue the work demanded of us during the high holy day season.

I wish the work were as easy as pasting back together a photograph of a torn map; it's not. During the High Holy Days, we are tasked with asking forgiveness from loved ones for hurts we've committed, as well as turning to God for forgiveness as well. We are broken because we've hurt others; because we've not lived up to our own expectations or goals; in short-we've fallen short of the mark.

Like an archer, when the arrow misses the target, he must first be aware of how far off - and in what direction - the arrow missed the target. Then the archer must make careful adjustments to redirect the arrow, and try again. If the new position is correct, the archer will see improvement. More likely, the archer will have to, continually, readjust the bow and arrow to make the mark. This is like the process of teshuvah: First, we must recognize that we've made an error. We have to acknowledge that we miss the mark. Then, we have to learn how, like the archer, to reposition ourselves, to aim correctly the next time. How does this work? We must admit that we are not perfect, and that we've likely missed the mark in our lives as well. Like the archer, noting what they've done wrong, we must admit that we've caused hurt, and, to acknowledge it we have to make amends to that person, or to God. Additionally, like the archer, we have to acknowledge that our aim is not perfect, and that teshuva is a continual process, of aiming towards the mark, admitting we've missed, and aiming again. . .

Once, during the Days of Penitence, a Hasidic rebbe was walking through the marketplace, and he overheard a customer bargaining with a merchant. The merchant proposed a price, and the buyer said, "You can do better than that." The shopkeeper then came up with a lower price, and the customer persisted, "You can do better than that. " At this point the rebbe lifted his eyes heavenward and said, "Master of the Universe, isn't that the message of these Yamim Noraim? Aren't You saying to us, 'You can do better than that; you can do better than that?'" We can do better, as Rabbi Harold Schulweis teaches in this lovely, simple poem:

The last word has not been spoken,
the last sentence has not been written,
the final verdict is not in.
It is never too late
to change my mind,
my direction,
to say no to the past
and yes to the future,
to offer remorse,
to ask and give forgiveness.
It is never too late
to start over again,
to feel again
to love again
to hope again....

During the high holy days, We take out the tape, and begin putting the broken pieces back together again, returning to a whole self. We must be honest with ourselves, admitting that we have missed the mark, and that we can do better. We must embrace the opportunity to, through teshuva, to set the target anew and aim again.

Home