This month, Elul, brings the start of the yearly process of teshuva. Teshuva means return, and we usually talk about it as returning to Hashem through repentance — righting our wrongs and asking for forgiveness, from each other and from Hashem. But we learn in the Talmud, in Masechet Pesachim, that teshuva was one of seven things created before the world was created, and so before Adam and Chava ate from the Tree of Knowledge, and so before the concept of sin itself, or the necessity of repentance. So then, what is teshuva? We can also see it as returning to ourselves.
Rav Kook defines teshuva as returning to the root of one’s soul, and one way to do this, according to Rabbi Anat Sharbat, is to be ourselves as much as possible, to return to the metaphorical place we each belong. This could be reexamining and prioritizing our values, spending more time seeking pleasure or spending time with loved ones, for my fellow neurodivergents it could be letting ourselves unmask, and for my fellow trans people, it could also mean reaching towards gender euphoria. Transitioning. This is actually how Dr. Joy Ladin labels her transition, as “extreme teshuva.” She describes this process, of transitioning and teshuva as a whole, as “an example of completely reassessing your life, of facing up to what you’ve tried to avoid and who you really are, and reckoning with the way your life is bound up with other people’s lives and bringing that into balance.”
One of the Torah portions that’s read during Elul, Parshat Shoftim, also offers us a model for how to engage in teshuva, how to return to the root of our soul. Granted, this is a pretty heavy and legalistic parsha, with rules and instructions for judges, kings, priests, and prophets. Rabbi Shefa Gold, however, sees this parsha as identifying four different aspects of the self that one can explore and develop.
The word Shoftim means judges, and the first aspect she identifies is that of the judge, of one’s power of discernment. She speaks of the importance of developing a sense of inner wisdom, of knowing which voices inside and outside of us are acting as influences, and being wary of what biases and assumptions we hold. This is the parsha that gives us the phrase, tzedek tzedek tirdof, justice justice you shall pursue, and Rabbi Gold explains that this double-justice refers to justice both within and outside of ourselves. For me as an autistic person, this involves identifying and interrogating the things my mask is built on. In my efforts to learn and navigate the rules of a society steeped with oppression, what bigotries have I inadvertently taken on, and how can I return to my values?
The second aspect is royalty, which Rabbi Gold interprets as one’s connection with Hashem, which of course has a very wide range of possible interpretations. She sees it as knowing that each of us has a spark of the Divine in us, but being cautious that that spark doesn’t incite arrogance. It’s the story of Reb Simcha Bunen, who carried two slips of paper in his pocket, one which said, “The world is made for me,” and the other, “I am but dust and ash.” I see this aspect as moving away from imposter syndrome and towards self-worth, while still holding onto humility.
The third aspect, priests, refers to our commitment to spiritual practice, ritual, and artistry, and how we access visions of Olam HaBa, the perfect world to come. But personally, I would expand this to refer to how we move about the world, and how each of us can act as a leader in our community, regardless of whether each of us actually holds any kind of leadership position or not. It’s asking yourself, what does a perfect, just world look like, and how can your actions, the way you express your feelings and opinions, and the way you treat others move us closer to that perfect, just world?
And for the fourth aspect, we return to Rav Kook and Rabbi Sharbat. The prophet aspect of ourselves, according to Rabbi Gold, is our true essence — looking deep within ourselves, past our self-doubts, worries about our reputation, societal norms. If you clear away all those attachments and pressures, what’s left?
Of course, teshuva will look very different for each of us, and also different from year to year. Exploring these different parts of ourselves, returning to the root of our soul, is good and healing and transformative — but it can also be really difficult, and sometimes really discouraging. But the name of this month, Elul, can be seen as an acronym for a Hebrew phrase from Song of Songs, “ani l’dodi v’dodi li,” I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine. Song of Songs is often read as a series of love poems between two people, or between Jews and Hashem. But what if you saw yourself as your own beloved?
Engaging in this process of teshuva during Elul, letting yourself become your own beloved, invites you to return to the root of your own soul out of love — not just love for yourself, but love for others, too. Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz wrote, “Teshuva is not just a psychological phenomenon, a storm within a human teacup. It is a process that can effect real change in the world, in all the worlds.” Returning to yourself out of self-love not only makes repentance more impactful and meaningful, but the love that you show to yourself ripples outwards to the people and communities in your life.
Teshuva is not easy, and while it is a life-long project, it is also a necessary one. May each of us find the strength, and the love, to take at least one step towards ourselves.
char hersh (they/them) lives in West Philly and is the Director of Administration for Jewish Learning Venture by day, lay prayer leader by night and also by morning. They recently graduated from the first cohort of Kol Tzedek's shaliach tzibur (lay prayer leader) training program, where they immediately fell in love with service leading, in addition to leyning (chanting from the Torah), as a form of community support. They are especially passionate about using music as a way to make connections and lift up meaning across liturgy and tradition. An autistic nerd, char's special interests include mushrooms, Jewish liturgy, leyning, and mushrooms.
Bibliography
Gold, Shefa. Torah Journeys. Ben Yehuda Press, 2006.
Goldrich, Lois. "Extreme Teshuva." Jewish Standard, 2020. https://jewishstandard.timesofisrael.com/extreme-teshuvah/
Sharbat, Anat. "Teshuva as Returning to Ourselves." HIR - The Bayit, 2016. https://images.shulcloud.com/111/uploads/ariel/Derashot/Holidays/Rosh%20Hashana/2016/RoshHaShana5777.pdf
Steinsaltz, Adin. The Thirteen-Petalled Rose. Basic Books, 2006.
Love these definitions of tshuvah Char! Makes absolute sense.