Teshuvah, Tefillah, Tzedakah?
During the 10 Days of Repentance, Jews meditate on these three concepts. They come from a pretty intense poem/prayer by an 11th century Rabbi called Unetanneh Tokef. Side-stepping my opinions on rabbinical Judaism vs. biblical Judaism (which I will have to blog about some day), Unetanneh Tokef cites a triad of behaviors as key to being inscribed in The Book of Life: Teshuvah, Tefillah, Tzedakah. Google them and you will find a lot of people getting cranky about their usual translation. Teshuvah is usually translated as “repentance,” Tefillah as “prayer,” and Tzedakah as “charity.” It is not that simple. I’m going to try to outline each of these concepts and explain what they mean to me.
Teshuvah
This is probably my favorite part of the High Holy Days. Teshuvah is often translated as “repentance.” To me, repentance sounds awful and counter-intuitive to my personal spiritual practice. Repentance implies being ashamed and full of guilt. It sounds like groveling for forgiveness. My personal concept of godliness does not support this type of self-talk. In my experience, Judaism is a supportive, encouraging, and compassionate religion. I do not feel shamed by the words of the Torah. I often feel challenged and pushed, but never put down.
A more literal translation of Teshuvah is “the return.” I am much more friendly to this interpretation. This translation implies that we are supposed to return to our essence. Our essence is a godly one. We were made in the image of God (again, one of these days I will explain my concept of God). This is an incredible gift. It is something that all humanity shares. It is a privilege and a challenge. It is a lot to live up to. During the 10 Days of Teshuvah (repentance or return), we are challenged to reengage with our Godly spark.
For me, this means taking stock of my successes as much as my failures. Recognizing my gifts and strengths and remembering to bring those to the forefront and use them for good. Yes, I acknowledge my short-comings. Yes, I grieve for my spiritual failures, but it is more to settle those debts, and clear that space for the good stuff.
Tefillah
Tefillah is understood as “prayer.” As Jews, we do a lot of prayer. The strictest amongst us recite three services of prayer a day. The least practicing may only pray on the High Holy Days while they are at shul or during a particular time of distress. “Prayer” is a terrible translation. A more accurate translation is “to attach oneself.” What are we attaching ourselves to? In my personal practice, I am attaching myself to that spark of godliness within me. Attaching myself to that spark of godliness in everything around me. I cling to my rituals and prayers in order to recognize the divinity of everything.
As a side note: one of my favorite prayers that we recite every day, including Yom Kippur, we thank God for the wisdom with which our bodies are made. We thank God for “combining veins, arteries, and vital organs into a finely balanced network.” When you stop and consider it, it truly is remarkable. By attaching ourselves to that godly foundation we are built on, we are more capable to rebuild the world. Which leads us to…
Tzedakah
Nope, it’s not charity as it is often translated. In fact, charity would be a lot easier than the true meaning of tzedakah. Tzedakah more fairly means “justice.” Justice requires a judgement. How fitting, then that this month’s Middah is “judging others favorably.” Fulfilling this call to justice does not simply mean giving money to charities, working at soup kitchens, or volunteering. While each of these things could be extensions of the original intent, “justice” requires helping others to obtain justice for themselves. Defending others from societal bullies or unfairness is one branch of this commandment, and defending others from themselves is the other. There is outright oppression in this world, but no oppression is as dangerous as self-oppression. Tzedakah, for me, is that undeniable call to service. Helping others to find their strength and godliness and helping myself is done by accomplishing the first two tasks: returning to our godliness and attaching ourselves to it.
So to recap, over the High Holy Days, I am reminded to
1. Return to my godly roots
2. Attach myself to God
3. Instill justice in the world by defending and protecting the godliness in others and in the world.
So what do the High Holy Days look like for me?
I write lots of letters to people I’ve wronged. I thank them for giving me the opportunity to improve myself. I journal about the people who I hold anger or jealousy towards. I plan for improvement. I reevaluate my relationship with Judaism. I consider what steps I want to take to incorporate Judaism into my life on a daily basis. This blog is a result of that contemplation.
Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are an opportunity. Regardless of your interpretation, each Jew is invited to wrestle with Rabbi Amnon of Mainz’s ferocious prayer, Unetanneh Tokef during these days, finding ways to return to our godly roots.
And You Shall Love 