How Not to Do Teshuvah

The message on my phone reads, “If I’ve done anything to offend you in the last year, please forgive me.”  The Teshuva Text. This is what forgiveness before Yom Kippur has come to.

The sentiment (or lack thereof) isn’t a product of the smartphone format. I’ve been receiving phone calls or having awkward in-person conversations of a similar nature for years. You’re put on the spot by a friend, family member or acquaintance—perhaps you don’t even remember the person’s name—to grant their atonement so they can be sealed in the Book of Life for another year. What can you do, right? So you respond, “Of course! And if there’s anything I did, please forgive me!” before continuing on with the superficial relationship.

It may sound glib to take issue with something so seemingly innocuous, but this thoughtless act is troubling for so many reasons. Most importantly, it completely misses what teshuvah is about. Poorly mistranslated as repentance, teshuvah literally means “return.” Judaism believes human beings are inherently good. Our “sins” (also a poor translation) don’t so much “make us bad” but instead function to create a barrier to our relationship with God. The same is true with the people in our lives, except for us the divide is tangible. Religious and spiritual ramifications aside, the act of teshuvah creates a special time where sincerely seeking out forgiveness is far more welcome by offended parties. 

Let’s look at the superficial apology again.

“If I’ve done anything to offend you …” 

Let’s assume there is something you’ve done wrong.

If the relationship is worth continuing, one would hope it is also worth deepening. How do you make something deeper? You dig. Chances are if you give it a few minutes’ thought, you’ll find something. You were late, you forgot to use a coaster, you disagreed publicly on a Facebook forum, humiliating them by lambasting their point of view. You know, the small stuff. If nothing comes up, then consider changes in their behavior such as: instances of awkwardness, unease in conversation, etc., and meditate on those. Unusual moments you overlooked may unlock clues you’ve been subconsciously avoiding. 

“… please forgive me.”

Once you’ve pinpointed what it is you have done to offend someone, you may feel the person is wrongly offended. Their fixation on some little thing you did is surely an indication of their obsession. Now, that may be the case, but part of this process is the effort to understand their point of view. That’s the growth part of teshuvah. You don’t have to agree, but at least try to see the other side. 

Let’s say you go through this process, but you just can’t come up with anything. Fine, go back to the template, “If I did anything in the last year to offend you …” 

But this time don’t say you’re sorry. Instead finish that sentence, “Please tell me what I did.” Maybe even add, “It’s the only way I will grow and better understand you.”

By using this format, you’ve opened the door for the offended party to be authentic and to actually create that change. It also shows you care and want to make sure your relationship is solid. Maybe you’ve got nothing to worry about. But maybe you learn that you did something of which you were unaware, something that was a problem whether you realized it or not.

Teshuvah is about reflecting on your life, contemplating the traps you all-too-frequently fall into, and then deciding to make a change.

Teshuvah is about reflecting on your life, contemplating the traps you all-too-frequently fall into, and then deciding to make a change. To do it with God is hard enough, but we know He is going to forgive us, so there’s no risk of backlash. But that’s not the case for our relationships, especially when family is involved. 

When you go through the process of teshuvah properly, you not only learn about yourself, but you also learn about the other person. Why do you keep doing the thing that upsets them? Do you really care about their feelings?

When you go through the process of teshuvah properly, you not only learn about yourself, but you also learn about the other person. Why do you keep doing the thing that upsets them? Do you really care about their feelings? Are you still mad about something you didn’t even realize and it’s coming out in ways you haven’t realized because the issue is unresolved? It’s when you put that effort into the relationship that you become closer than if you had never upset them at all because you have a deeper understanding of all parties involved. From that approach, a transgression can become a merit, and a relationship can be resurrected.

Benjamin Elterman is a screenwriter, blogger and speech coach who has worked for Aish.com, OpenDor Media, as well as his own blog SixDegreesOfKosherBacon.com. He is also the founder of MitzvahSpeeches.com, where he works one-on-one with students to craft moving and personal bar and bat mitzvah speeches.