The Call of Teshuva

I always find it funny that Yom Kippur is usually considered the somber day of self-examination and teshuva, while Rosh Hashanah is thought of as celebratory and sweet — when actually, Rosh Hashanah is known as Yom haDin — the day of judgement.

This is because on Rosh Hashanah, the shofar blasts are believed to open the gates of heaven so that we are seen and accounted for in the fullness of our humanity before the Divine. The book of life is opened; the ten days of teshuva begin.

And it can be serious business, this teshuva! Many of us have been engaging in the work of cheshbon haNefesh, soul accounting, throughout the month of Elul. But on Rosh Hashanah, it gets real: if we were to die today, how would we feel about the state of our lives and relationships? Do we have any unfinished business regarding what really matters? If the veils were removed, and everything was revealed to be the divinity it is — how would we feel about how we treat one another?

There’s a common assumption that teshuva is about self-criticism, beating the chest, being hard on ourselves for our sins. But a classical rabbinic teaching says that when God hears us sounding the shofar, the Holy One arises from the throne of din (judgement) and moves to the throne of rahamim (compassion). For teshuva to be possible, it must be enveloped in the expansiveness of compassion. It cannot come from harshness or shame. It must be held in a balance of chesed (lovingkindness) and Emet (honesty).

This isn’t easy. But it is our holy work. Our sages teach that teshuva was created before the world itself — the need for return is built into the cosmos. Judaism, in its wisdom, acknowledges that we will miss the mark, and we must continually return; and at the same time, insists that our actions matter deeply. One of Judaism’s great revolutions in the time of its inception was to say that spiritual life is not just about prayer, ritual, and ceremony; what matters more than anything is how we act towards one another.

Judaism’s mysticism is practical: in Kabbalah, the journey is only complete when all of our beautiful prayers and intentions make it all the way down to earth, to manifest in our most mundane actions. That is when the shekhina rests among us in a sanctuary of peace.

Rosh Hashanah invites us to take this work seriously— and with hope. There is something profoundly optimistic in hearing the call of the shofar, year after year, as it announces a sacred future. There is something profoundly optimistic about the hard work of teshuva. When we engage in this work, we affirm that we are alive; that we will continue on the path of learning, growth, and healing; and that we will continue working to bring more holiness, compassion, and justice into our world.

This season, may we listen for the call that awakens us. May we return— again and again — towards alignment and compassion, for the sake of each other, this precious earth, and the sacred future being born through us.

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About Your Teacher:
Rebecca is a meditation teacher, artist, writer, and student rabbi. A devoted student of contemplative practices since her teens, Rebecca has sat numerous intensive Jewish, Buddhist and secular retreats in the US, India and Israel. She serves as a full-time core faculty member at the Institute for Jewish Spirituality, where she founded and directs programming for the Shevet Jewish Mindfulness Community for Young Adults. In addition to IJS, she is on the teaching faculty of Or Ha Lev: Center for Jewish Spirituality & Meditation. Rebecca taught mindfulness in low-income California schools with Mindful Life Project, and co-authored the Mahloket Matters Schools curriculum integrating social/emotional learning and skills for constructive conflict with the Pardes Center for Jewish Educators in Jerusalem, Israel. She currently lectures on meditation and mindfulness at Stanford School of Medicine, and previously directed the SHEFA Initiative for Health & Well-being at Stanford University’s Hillel. Learn more about Rebecca on her website: rebeccaschisler.com