Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, brings with it the promise of the impossible: If we repent, the past can be undone.
Through genuine regret and rejection of past bad behavior, and by resolving not to repeat the action in the future, an act of doing wrong is wiped out, as if it never was done — thanks to the miracle of God’s forgiveness. If a fellow human being was injured or deprived by the wrong behavior, then repentance must include restoration or reparation to the victim.
Yet the very basis of Yom Kippur seems to be contradicted by an explicit halachic ruling on the rules of repentance.
The Mishnah (Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Yoma 85b) says the miracle of divine forgiveness will not be extended to someone who abuses the system of repentance.
For example, if someone says, “I will sin and then I will repent so that I will be forgiven and thus will obtain the fruits of evil without being punished,” then that person will have no opportunity to repent, for this would make a mockery of the system. The person would be exploiting God’s mercy to get away with a crime. This is intolerable and forgiveness is denied.
Similarly, the Mishnah says, “if someone says I will sin and then Yom Kippur will bring me atonement, then Yom Kippur does not atone,” meaning the person allows him/herself to sin, counting on Yom Kippur to provide forgiveness. Here again, the Mishnah warns us not to abuse God’s grace in extending forgiveness. The power of Yom Kippur will work for us only if we do not exploit it and lower our moral standards.
Consider, however, that Yom Kippur is built into the Hebrew calendar permanently. This means that people can count on the Day of Atonement for forgiveness every year.
As we come to expect Yom Kippur’s power to wipe the slate clean, do we not lower our moral guard at least somewhat, knowing that our wrong acts are not ultimate? Does this not constitute an annual case of “I will sin and then Yom Kippur will bring me atonement,” which the Mishnah rules is invalid?
When I first raised this question at a rabbinical convention, I proposed that Yom Kippur should not be on the annual calendar; placing it there tempts people into depending on it.
If enough people sinned, then the rabbis would meet and proclaim that God’s forgiveness is still extended for all who repent and Yom Kippur would be convoked that year.
The typical reaction to the proposal was, “What? No Yom Kippur? We depend on the sale of seats, Yom Kippur appeal, etc., to sustain our budget!”
Does this not validate the point that in some sense, we are all guilty of sinning and depending on Yom Kippur to get us out of the pit we have dug for ourselves?
One possible answer is that Yom Kippur is built into the calendar out of the recognition of the fallibility of human beings and their proneness to sin, selfishness and error.
“There is no human being in the world so righteous who does [only] good and never sins (Ecclesiastes 7,20).” But this answer misses the depth of moral realism and profundity in the concept of atonement. Yom Kippur is not scheduled just because of the sinners. True, they need compassion and divine forgiveness — but the moral and righteous need Yom Kippur just as much.
Life is not a series of simple choices between right and wrong actions. In Jewish tradition, a host of morally responsible actions — even mitzvot – – carry with them guilt. Often, good people must choose between good principles in conflict with each other or must prioritize limited resources that leave them short of fulfilling obligations to others.
The right of self-defense is affirmed as a mitzvah. However, if we have to kill the other person, we have done the right thing, yet incurred guilt. In the Bible, the Israelite army had to undergo ritual purification after the war before being allowed to re-enter the Temple, the House of Life. And a hero priest who killed under these circumstances was permanently disqualified from blessing the people.
All human life is infinitely valuable and equal. Yet if we cannot save all in danger, then we must prioritize. In so acting, we have done a mitzvah — and we have failed morally, simultaneously. In an ideal society, we would assure economic equality. If that fails, we must extend tzedakah to the needy. But in so doing, our charity helps perpetuate the inequality. Thus we collaborate in continuing a system that, intentionally or inadvertently, robs people of dignity by making them dependent on others.
Keeping kosher is a mitzvah. It is less guilty than unrestrained carnivorous behavior but it falls short of vegetarianism in meeting the standards of reverence for life. Moral speech may require white lies; in an halachically legitimated abortion, protecting a mother’s life may involve sacrificing a fetus.
Governing, in particular, brings with it a host of ethical dilemmas and conflicts that inevitably involve moral compromise and guilt. Limited resources lead to rationing of medical treatment. Protecting people may lead to hasty or wilfully erroneous action. Every effort must be made to reduce or minimize immoral side efforts — but woe unto those who would keep their hands clean by failing to take responsibility for government and law and order.
In our lifetime, haredim, on the one hand, and extreme liberal idealists, on the other, have continually delegitimated the Israeli government’s use of power and force to protect the Jewish people. These critics failed to understand the deeper lesson of Yom Kippur.
The sincerely righteous must continually be implicated in ambiguous and morally imperfect behavior. There is no other way of working to perfect this world. (Of course, good people seek to reduce these compromising aspects.)
Therefore, all of us — saint and sinner alike — need God’s continuing judgment on our actions. As well, we all need divine compassion and forgiveness — lest we become hardened and embrace the admixture of evil in our behavior; lest we become complacent and excuse our compromises; lest we become cynical or self-protective and walk away from responsibility.
No wonder that on Kol Nidre night, we recite the formula that “by divine wisdom and community judgment, we permit [the righteous] to pray [as one congregation] with the sinners.”
Irving Greenberg is president of CLAL — The National Jewish Center for Learning and Leadership and author of “The Jewish Way” (New York: Summit Books).
ADD TO STORY: The following may be added after the fifth paragraph of the Landau analysis on settlements that appeared in the Aug. 7 JTA Daily Dispatch. That paragraph begins: “Palestinians leaders, in their initial, angry reaction to the Netanyahu government’s move….”
Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat reacted to the Cabinet decision with the strongest criticism of Israel since the Likud government came to power.
Calling settlement construction a “flagrant violation” of the self-rule accords, Arafat told the Palestinian legislative council Tuesday that “all means” must be used to resist “this demon that swallows up everything, including the peace process.”
Settlement expansion, he added, “means tearing up agreements we have signed, and it means disregard of the Palestinian track” in regional peace moves.
NOTE TO EDITORS: JTA editorial assistant Lori Silberman has left JTA. She has decided to pursue a career in journalism by attending Columbia School of Journalism. JTA intern Heather Camlot, also a journalism student, will be replacing Lori until we find someone new. Any questions about transmission, story arrivals, etc., can be directed to Heather at 212-643-1890, ext. 210.
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