REVIEW: Books on Repentance

Yitzchak Blau Tradition Online | September 15, 2024

Michael Rosensweig, Mimini Mikhael: Essays on Yom Kippur and Teshuvah (RIETS Hashkafah Series & Maggid Books, 2023), 326 pages

Aharon Lichtenstein, Return and Renewal: Reflections on Teshuva and Spiritual Growth, adapted and edited by Michael S. Berger and Reuven Ziegler (Yeshivat Har Etzion/Mishnat HaRAL & Maggid Books, 2018), 230 pages

R. Michael Rosensweig has been a distinguished Rosh Yeshiva at Yeshiva University since 1985 and his publications have mostly consisted of lomdish articles in Torah journals read largely by yeshiva fellows. Therefore, the publication of Mimini Mikhael: Essays on Yom Kippur and Teshuvah is a cause for celebration and an opportunity to analyze his thought. While making my way through this newly published volume, I was inspired to read R. Aharon Lichtenstein’s Return and Renewal: Reflections on Teshuva and Spiritual Growth, a posthumous collection of twelve teshuva derashot from 1992-2008. The contrast between these two works proves illuminating.

R. Rosensweig is an outstanding lamdan and a very erudite talmid hakham. He masterfully practices the art of Brisker conceptual analysis and has a knack for finding the unusual source crucial for illustrating a possible understanding for any topic at hand. For example, in chapter 17 he presents R. Sa’adia Gaon’s position that Jews should recite a berakha before immersing in a mikve prior to Yom Kippur which R. Rosensweig understands as an indicator that (according to R. Sa’adia) such immersion is an independent religious value and not just an act enabling entering the Temple. Were it merely a hekhsher mitzva no blessing would be recited.

Rambam dominates his discourse. After a first chapter based on Rambam’s presentation of repentance [read that chapter here], the second chapter, titled “An Alternative and Complimentary Perspective on Teshuvah: Rabbeinu Yonah’s Sha’arei Teshuvah” actually discusses Rambam more than Rabbenu Yonah, the purported focus of the essay. R. Rosensweig reads Rambam very carefully and frequently draws inferences from Rambam’s placement of particular ideas. For example, Rambam mentions the obligation to repent on Yom Kippur in Hilkhot Teshuva (2:7) and not in Hilkhot Shevitat Asor (p. 6); he lists the commandment to visit one’s rebbe on festivals in Hilkhot Talmud Torah (5:7), not in Hilkhot Yom Tov (264). In both instances, placement indicates that the mitzva in question is part of a larger year-long theme and not restricted to particular calendar dates. Rambam’s decision to create a separate section for Yom Kippur and not to include it in Hilkhot Yom Tov may reveal that Yom Kippur lacks a generic Yom Tov quality and is a purely sui generis day (124-125).

He also draws inferences from Rambam’s wording. Rambam surprisingly describes both Yom Kippur’s work prohibition and the mitzva of innuy as forms of shevita (Shevitat Asor 1:4) because fasting on Yom Kippur differs from other eating prohibitions (123-124). When citing a Gemara about four ways to enhance repentance including crying out and changing one’s name, Rambam alters the Talmudic formulation (Teshuva 2:4 based on Rosh Hashana 16b). The Gemara states that these four practices help “tear up” negative heavenly decrees while Rambam omits that phrase, referring to them as mi-darkei ha-teshuva. The change conveys that repentance ideally is not just escaping punishments but rather involves a personality transformation (37-43).

In one instance, extremely meticulous reading of Rambam may lead our author astray. Rambam places the mitzva to purify before holidays in Hilkhot Tumat Okhlim (16:10) and not in Hilkhot Yom Tov. This, in conjunction with inferences from Rambam’s wording, brings R. Rosensweig to the conclusion that purity is an independent and not merely pragmatic value according to Rambam (257-262). However, it seems dubious to me that a series of diyyukim should overpower Rambam’s explicit statements in four different works. That very halakha in Tumat Okhlim offers a pragmatic rationale: “All of Israel is cautioned to be pure on the regel so that they will be ready to enter the Temple and eat sacrifices.” Two halakhot later (16:12), he pragmatically explains the rabbinic group that ate even mundane foods (hullin) in purity as attempting to generate social separation from the masses. He also strikes pragmatic notes in his commentary on the Mishna (Taharot 2:2), Sefer ha-Mitzvot (asse #109), and in the Guide (III:47). The last source, not cited by R. Rosensweig, portrays the laws of purity as a means of restricting access to the Mikdash since it is hard to maintain the purity necessary for entry, thereby generating reverence for our Holy Temple.

This volume introduces an important innovation regarding Rambam’s kotarot (section headlines) where he catalogues the upcoming mitzvot before each halakhic section. R. Soloveitchik famously suggested that Rambam states the kiyyum ha-mitzva in the kotarot and the ma’ase ha-mitzva in the laws themselves (Al ha-Teshuva, 41-44). Thus, the koteret to Hilkhot Teshuva talks of repentance while the laws emphasize verbalizing confession. The koteret to Hilkhot Tefilla speaks of avodat Hashem while the actual halakhot focus on the ritual act of prayer. R. Rosensweig offers an alternative approach in which the kotarot highlight the uniquely Jewish character of the concepts in question. The ketuba reveals the nature of halakhic marriage and the written get illustrates the character of Jewish divorce; therefore, both themes appear in their respective kotarot (12-13).

In classic Brisker fashion, R. Rosensweig often suggests twin contradictory or complimentary themes. He cleverly shows many sources linking Yom Kippur and Sukkot and sees the two of them as the balancing of a holiday with curtailed joy preceding a festival with the most expressive happiness. The wide range of support cited for this holiday linkage illustrates the quality of his argument. In Leviticus 23, the word “akh” only appears regarding Yom Kippur and Sukkot and both, in contrast to Rosh Hashana which occurs during “hodesh ha-shevii” (the seventh month), fall out in “hodesh ha-shevii ha-zeh” (this seventh month). According to R. Yehiel Mikhel Epstein, Sukkot takes place in Tishrei, even though it could theoretically have been set in any month of the year, in order to connect it with Yom Kippur. Finally, the customs to build a Sukka on the night after Yom Kippur and to make Hoshana Rabba an extension of the Days of Awe further the connection (chapter 18).

Two successive chapters depict a dialectic regarding the Ten Days of Repentance. On the one hand, we adopt certain stringencies (pat akum, e.g.) reflecting our maximalist aspirations in religious life (chapter 9). On the other hand, we delay particular mitzvot such as kiddush levana, court cases, and marriages (according to one custom) so that we not view such mitzvot as generating automatic atonement and freeing us from the need for authentic improvement (chapter 10). This works very well for marriage which our tradition views as providing Yom Kippur-like atonement.

Bringing this volume into conversation with that of R. Lichtenstein zt”l highlights one strong parallel and a number of intriguing contrasts. Both authors distinguish between a repentance that deals with particular sins and one that addresses our overall relationship with God (chapter 1 in R. Rosensweig; 54-57 in R. Lichtenstein). Mimini Mikhael is full of hakirot about the nature of halakhic concepts. Does Tosefet Shabbat or Yom Tov extend the sanctity of the day or just generate legal obligations (chapter 13)? Is the hatzi shiur prohibition a protective fence or an assertion that prohibition is not a function of quantity (167-170)? In Return and Renewal, the dialectical questions revolve around the quality of human experience. There is a repentance born in ferment and one in tranquility (“Teshuva: Ferment and Repose”). Repentance entails profound humility but also depends on a sense of self-worth (“Humility and Pride in Teshuva”). In addition, R. Lichtenstein probes deeply into the impact and language of sin. He lists five negative aspects of transgression and six metaphors for the impact of iniquity. Sin is wrongdoing per se, unduly prioritizes our desires, soils our personality, rejects divine authority, and ruptures our relationship with God (44-45). We describe sin as an illness, defilement, failure, a source of mourning, as a feeling of being trapped, and as disintegration (213-215).

R. Lichtenstein also moves beyond the halakha in stressing particular challenges facing our community. Praying with intent, always a difficulty, has become harder for the Modern Orthodox Jew who does not perceive himself as dependent on God (31). Are Modern Orthodox Jews impassioned enough to cry (75)? On two occasions, R. Lichtenstein outlines problems of opposing Jewish groups. Haredim are too self-assured to question their principles whereas Modern Orthodox Jews lack confident commitment (154-157). Some chauvinists deny any value to the gentile world while other Orthodox Jews fail to acknowledge gentile influences we need to be wary of (190). None of these sorts of sentiments appear in R. Rosensweig’s writing.

In addition, R. Lichtenstein sometimes personalizes the material by relating stories or revealing something about his inner world. He informs us that he has a special affinity for the line “and purify our hearts to serve You with integrity” (19-20), that he cannot fully identify with Halakhic Man’s critique of musar’s intensive self-introspection (150), and that R. Soloveitchik was in his best mood of the year right after Yom Kippur (216). Such content is also absent from Mimini Mikhael.

Finally, there is a huge discrepancy in terms of sources employed. Return and Renewal indicates just how significant the canon of Western literature is to R. Lichtenstein. Eleven of the twelve chapters (the only exception is “The Integrity of Teshuva”) are chock full of references to Shakespeare, Wordsworth, Tennyson, C.S. Lewis, Milton, Matthew Arnold, T.S. Eliot, Spenser, Augustine, Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, Kant, Ricoeur, de La Rochefoucauld, Dostoevsky, Pico, Nietzsche, Whitehead, Proust, Conrad, D.H. Lawrence, Erasmus, Luther, Otto, and others. This volume gives the lie to any suggestion that humanistic thought was of minor importance for R. Lichtenstein. In contrast, R. Rosensweig’s references to broader literature consist of two footnotes referring to a Bergsonian notion of time as a way of explaining the past-altering ability of repentance (47, 77).

In all fairness to R. Rosensweig, we must note how unusual R. Lichtenstein is in the rabbinic world. Most Roshei Yeshiva write seforim with no secular references or self-revelatory passages. We are grateful that R. Lichtenstein, and R. Soloveitchik before him, were both exceptions in these two areas.

Perhaps the discrepancies in citing non-Jewish wisdom also connects to a distinction in their portrayal of gentile repentance. Both writers think there is an aspect of repentance reserved for Jews but R. Rosensweig does more to maximize that distinction. He writes: “Certainly, the category of teshuvah mei-ahavah—which has the capacity to transform willful transgression into merits—is a special prerogative for the Jewish people alone” (75). Since he only cites one supporting source, it is unclear why he thinks this point certain. Seforno, for one, explicitly disagrees (commentary on Exodus 4:23). R. Lichtenstein, on the other hand, infers from the language of “kol adam” (Hilkhot Teshuva 7:1) that Rambam’s admonitions about repentance refer to gentiles as well (98). Similarly, he derives from our Selihot text stating that God “performs righteousness with all flesh and spirit” that this concept includes the entire range of human existence and activity (177). R. Lichtenstein’s positive evaluation of non-Jewish spiritual potential goes together with his gleaning profound insight from their writings.

Now, someone may contend that these distinctions simply reflect different audiences; R. Lichtenstein delivered his teshuva derashot to broad public audiences whereas R. Rosensweig’s essays originated as shiurim to yeshiva students. In response, I would note that R. Lichtenstein consistently cited gentile sages and plumbed the depths of human experience within Yeshivat Har Etzion’s beit midrash as well. Moreover, which audiences one chooses to address and which audiences seek out any given speaker can be quite telling.

I conclude with three intriguing ideas in R. Lichtenstein’s work. He suggests applying bal tashhit to not realizing one’s human potential (13). He cites R. Tzadok ha-Kohen of Lublin’s explanation for how a chapter in Psalms about the crushing guilt of sin can begin with the happy note of “a song of David” (Psalms 51:1). R. Tzadok notes that there is also an element of joy in the teshuva process (226). Finally, Rambam writes that a person should “try” (yishtadel) to repent (Hilkhot Teshuva 7:1) rather than one is “obligated” to repent, as repentance is “a process and not necessarily a Rubicon that one must cross” (118).

Taken together, we have two important and worthwhile works by significant rabbinic voices. R. Rosensweig is the master lamdan. Those interested in a broader reach will find luxurious comfort in R. Lichtenstein’s mansion.

Yitzchak Blau, associate editor of TRADITION, is Rosh Yeshivat Orayta in Jerusalem’s Old City.

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