Rabbi Ari Lev: Teshuva and Tochecha: Tools for Generative Conflict
Written in collaboration with Rabbi Benay Lappe and Rabbi Mónica Gomery
Yom Kippur 5779
September 19, 2018
This past January, we held a congregational meeting in which 60 of us gathered to discuss issues of Justice within the Kol Tzedek and wider community. In particular, we asked members to reflect on what they needed to feel seen and safe at Kol Tzedek with respect to six topics, Class/Money, Race/Racism, Gentrification/Neighborhood Relationships, Disability Justice, Prayer/Music and Israel/Palestine.
These are important issues are certainly not unique to Kol Tzedek.
As bell hooks notes, "To build community requires vigilant awareness of the work we must continually do to undermine all the socialization that leads us to behave in ways that perpetuate domination."
What emerged were incredibly honest reflections and a desire to have difficult conversations.
Not surprisingly, in some cases what surfaced were mutually exclusive needs.
For example, on the topic of prayer one person writes:
"I don’t want wall-to-wall Hebrew at services."
And the next one reads:
"I love Hebrew - praying, singing, chanting from the Torah & Haftorah"
Or on the topic of gender, one person reflects:
"I want this to be a place where I can teach my kids that it’s great to be female and great to be male."
And the next one reads:
"Can we have frank conversations about how terminology like male/female is part of the gender binary and is transphobic?"
Disagreement is alive and well at Kol Tzedek. Baruch Hashem.
And so is our desire to address it head on.
Many people wrote that they want Kol Tzedek to be a place where we talk directly about Israel/Palestine. That it is time to end the community silence. That we want to be able to share honestly with each other about difficult conversations and build a community where it is OK to disagree.
The desire to have hard conversations, be them about race, class, gender, or zionism, may actually be the strongest point of alignment, but certainly not consensus.
The board and I have been incubating this list of big topics with nearly 300 individual ideas for the past nine months.
Just imagine, 400 Jews, a thousand opinions!
First and foremost, what I want you all to know, is that I see our fault lines and our growing edges. I see the ways that that which is unspoken protects us and limits us.
I see the soft tender roots of so many new members. And I see our desire to deepen and strengthen, build trust and have hard conversations. In the words of Audre Lorde, "Without community, there is no liberation...but community must not mean a shedding of our differences, nor the pathetic pretense that these differences do not exist."
But before we can jump in to these deserving topics of both personal and political import, we need to talk about how to talk about them. There is not only disagreement about the goals, but in some case, about whether to talk about a topic at all.
As part of this quest to figure out how we might have enduring and generative conflict at Kol Tzedek, the board has created a communications charter for itself. It outlines intentions for how we want to collaborate and communicate.
The goal is to "Foster clarity, transparency, and accountability in KT board level communication through articulating our values and practices in and out of formal meetings."
Its guiding values are:
Even with these beautiful intentions that I truly believe in, I was stunned by how painful it was when at a recent board meeting, we disagreed about something that really mattered to me. It was a reminder of how hard it truly is to continue trusting across deep disagreement.
In Jewish tradition, there are two primary tools that maklokhet l'shem shammayim - for enduring, generative conflict. The first is one we may be more familiar with, Teshuva. Hard to define and even harder to do. Teshuva is a core spiritual practice, a belief we are capable of turning towards our best selves, a model of transformative justice that includes confession, remorse, forgiveness, and the commitment to change our ways. It is both personal and interpersonal. We sing of its powers in the Unetane Tokef - U'Teshuva, u'tefillah, u'tzedakah - ma'avirin et roah hagezera. That Teshuvah, prayer, and righteous giving can transform the harsh decree.
Because real Teshuva is so important and also so hard, the rabbis developed another mechanism that makes it possible for us to endure conflict and heal from hurt.
And it's called Tochecha - say this with me - To Che Cha.
It is as difficult to pronounce as it is to define, and even harder yet to practice. Tochecha as I understand it is what those of us who were socialized lesbians would call "feedback." It is something like constructive criticism.
The basic job of Tochecha is to get someone else on the Teshuva train.
But its underlying value is that we need to see ourselves as responsible to and for one another, to help each other do Teshuva, to lovingly hold each other accountable.
The first mention of Tochecha comes directly from Torah itself. We will actually read it aloud this afternoon in The Holiness code.
Leviticus 19:17 reads:
Lo tisna et achicha bilvavecha,
You are not to hate your fellow in your heart,
Hocheiach tochiach at amitecha,
You should absolutely rebuke your friend,
In other words, give your friend Tochecha.
Why should you do this?
The verse continues:
v'lo tisa alav chet
That you not miss the mark because of him.
This verse has three parts. If you want to look at it with me. P.672-3. Verse 17.
The first part of the verse, lo tisna - do not hate your brother, your brethren, your kin. This reads almost like one of the Ten Commandments. I might argue it should have been one, nestled amongst don't murder and don't steal. Don't hate!
The second part,
Hocheiach tochiach at amitecha.
There is a powerful doubling of this verb which implies emphasis. Surely you must do this.
And then finally the third section,
That one not incur a chet, a transgression.
There are three possible, valid, and important readings of this third part.
One option is that it is a mitzvah to give Tochecha and if a person chooses not to, they too have missed the mark.
In other words, for your own sake, don't walk around resenting another person who has wronged you in the world. And the way, according to the Torah, to not walk around with this hatred and resentment, is hocheich tochiach - give them Tochecha.
But it is not only for our own benefit, but it also prevents them from doing further harm.
The second possible reading is that if we do not give this feedback, the person who has wronged us will have no way to get on the Teshuva train, and as a result they will keep missing the mark.
But it is the third reading that brings with it reason to be cautious about Tochecha.
In this case it reads, You should absolutely give your friend feedback, but not to the point of humiliation. [1]
V'lo tisa alav chet - Do not miss the mark in your Tochecha by shaming someone.
For this reason, the obligation to give feedback is limited to the case in which there is reason to believe that the feedback will bring about a change in behavior.
And thus the Talmud teaches, "Just as we are obligated to give feedback when we are likely to be heard, so too we are obligated to refrain from giving feedback when we are not likely to be heard." [2]
Tochecha is an art not a science. It is a spiritual practice not a code of conduct. I think it is an essential skill set that we must collectively hone in order to be able to endure difficult conversations and stay connected.
Tochecha presumes a shared value system, which is precisely why this communication charter was a radical first step toward transparency and accountability.
For many of us, Kol Tzedek, is a refuge; a place to reimagine family; a place to truly be our fully selves; a place to connect to something beyond ourselves. We are healing from the Judaism of our childhood or the religion of our childhood. And as a result I fear that when we encounter ideas or decisions that are not what we would have wanted, each of us may be quick to think that means we are not safe here, that we were never safe here.
Which is why I think that having difficult conversations is both risky and holy. Both at Kol Tzedek, and in our own lives - with our colleagues and our partners, our parents and our friends. In search of a greater shared truth, we risk sense of safety.
And the rabbis know this.
Consider this story:
Rav, a great scholar and teacher, had a conflict with a certain butcher. The butcher did not come to see Rav in order to make amends. So on the evening of Yom Kippur, Rav said to himself, "I will go help him appease me."
Rav runs into his student, who says, "You're going to kill someone." I think this part establishes that "everyone [but Rav] knows" that the butcher isn't going to do Teshuva, and that Rav's insistence shows that he is being self-righteous and insensitive to or unconcerned with how his Tochecha is going to be received - which is a necessary factor to determine before doing Tochecha. This is the thing: Rav is now essentially putting the butcher in the position of REFUSING to do Teshuva rather than merely refraining from doing so.
When he arrived at the butcher's shop, Rav found the butcher sitting and chopping the head of an animal. Rav stood over the butcher, looming, waiting. The butcher lifted his eyes, and saw Rav standing there. "So it's you, Abba," he said with contempt, addressing the sage by his first name. "Go away! I have no words for you." [3]
In this story, it's unclear exactly who has the power. There's Rav, an esteemed scholar, who enters the butcher shop. But he is also vulnerable, entering the butcher's domain, stepping onto someone else's turf. And there is the butcher, holding a knife. Rav stands, the butcher sits. The butcher does not rise to receive Rav, and does not stop his work to greet him. Rav looms over the butcher. The tension is palpable, and neither character seems to be acting respectfully toward the other. When the butcher says "I have no words for you," does he mean "I don’t owe you an apology?" Maybe he means "We don’t have any problems between us." Or maybe the opposite: "We do have a problem, but I am not going to acknowledge it."
The story takes a dramatic turn. Immediately after the butcher tells Rav to go away, cutting off the possibility for reconciliation, a bone shoots out from the head of the animal he is chopping, slips from his hands, striking him in the neck, and he dies.
Many commentators feel Rav should have known better. He should have known the butcher was not ready to make Teshuva. And he should have refrained from showing up at his doorstep.
This story seems to be telling us that our lives depend on making Teshuva. On trying to, anyway. The path to repair is messy. Walk that messy path, with caution!
Reckless conflict - conflict without regard for the very real people in it, and the ability of those people to hear us out - has the potential to lead to more hurt.
And says the Talmud, it can actually destroy us.
As the story illustrates, Tochecha is difficult for everyone involved. It is exceedingly difficult to be told that you have wronged someone without becoming defensive behind a wall of guilt and shame. And it is exceedingly difficult to muster the clarity and courage to tell someone they have wronged you, in such a way that no one is humiliated.
What the rabbis realize is that it is not only hard, it is virtually impossible.
Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah said, "...There is no one capable of receiving Tochecha." And Rabbi Akiva said, "...There is no one who knows how to word effective feedback." [4]
Which is why the source of all Tochecha must be love.
Because words that come from the heart, enter the heart.
And likewise,
כל אהבה שאין עמה תוכחה אינה אהבה
A love that is not willing to reproof, is not really love. [5]
Which is to say, while it has the power to kill the spirit of our community, it is also essential for our evolution and existence.
Which is precisely why in a moment when we recite the Unetane Tokef, when we will call on God as מוֹכִיחַ (mokhiach) who hold us all accountable, we begin by asserting God's love as the source of his Tochecha.
וְיִכּון בְּחֶסֶד כִּסְאֶךָ וְתֵשֵׁב עָלָיו בֶּאֱמֶת.
Your throne is steadfast love
אֱמֶת כִּי אַתָּה הוּא דַיָּן וּמוֹכִיחַ
Truly, you are the Judge who calls us all to account.
Out of love for each and every one of you, and the community we are actively building, I pray we are able to be patient with these difficult conversations so that we have the clarity to say what can be heard and the wisdom to not say, that which cannot yet be heard.
Let us not be more eager to have the hard conversations with each other than we are to turn inwards and do the work of Teshuva with ourselves.
In the words of Marcia Falk,
Let us distinguish the parts within the whole
And bless their differences.
Like the sabbath and the six days of creation
May our lives be made whole through relation.
Now you might ask, how important really is Teshuva anyways? Well, the rabbis of the Talmud get a little hyperbolic about Teshuva.
So great is Teshuva, says Rebbe Hama bar Hanina, that it brings healing to the whole world.
I can top that, Rebbe Yonatan says:
Teshuva is so great that it brings redemption closer.
Reb Shmuel Bar Nachmani weighs in:
You wanna know how amazing Teshuva is?
Teshuva elongates the years of a person’s life!
Rebbe Meir concludes:
Listen. I'll tell you what Teshuva is capable of.
When one individual makes Teshuva, the whole world is forgiven.
On this Yom Kippur,
May the hours we spend in prayer and reflection bring healing to us all.
May it reduce our stress, increase the love in our lives and lengthen the years of our life.
And may we merit to see the whole world forgiven.
Gmar Hatimah Tova, May we be sealed for life.
[1] Rambam, Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Deot 6:8
[2] B.T. Yevamot 65
[3] B.T. Yoma 87a
[4] Sifra 89a-89b
[5] Bereshit Rabba 54:3
Yom Kippur 5779
September 19, 2018
This past January, we held a congregational meeting in which 60 of us gathered to discuss issues of Justice within the Kol Tzedek and wider community. In particular, we asked members to reflect on what they needed to feel seen and safe at Kol Tzedek with respect to six topics, Class/Money, Race/Racism, Gentrification/Neighborhood Relationships, Disability Justice, Prayer/Music and Israel/Palestine.
These are important issues are certainly not unique to Kol Tzedek.
As bell hooks notes, "To build community requires vigilant awareness of the work we must continually do to undermine all the socialization that leads us to behave in ways that perpetuate domination."
What emerged were incredibly honest reflections and a desire to have difficult conversations.
Not surprisingly, in some cases what surfaced were mutually exclusive needs.
For example, on the topic of prayer one person writes:
"I don’t want wall-to-wall Hebrew at services."
And the next one reads:
"I love Hebrew - praying, singing, chanting from the Torah & Haftorah"
Or on the topic of gender, one person reflects:
"I want this to be a place where I can teach my kids that it’s great to be female and great to be male."
And the next one reads:
"Can we have frank conversations about how terminology like male/female is part of the gender binary and is transphobic?"
Disagreement is alive and well at Kol Tzedek. Baruch Hashem.
And so is our desire to address it head on.
Many people wrote that they want Kol Tzedek to be a place where we talk directly about Israel/Palestine. That it is time to end the community silence. That we want to be able to share honestly with each other about difficult conversations and build a community where it is OK to disagree.
The desire to have hard conversations, be them about race, class, gender, or zionism, may actually be the strongest point of alignment, but certainly not consensus.
The board and I have been incubating this list of big topics with nearly 300 individual ideas for the past nine months.
Just imagine, 400 Jews, a thousand opinions!
First and foremost, what I want you all to know, is that I see our fault lines and our growing edges. I see the ways that that which is unspoken protects us and limits us.
I see the soft tender roots of so many new members. And I see our desire to deepen and strengthen, build trust and have hard conversations. In the words of Audre Lorde, "Without community, there is no liberation...but community must not mean a shedding of our differences, nor the pathetic pretense that these differences do not exist."
But before we can jump in to these deserving topics of both personal and political import, we need to talk about how to talk about them. There is not only disagreement about the goals, but in some case, about whether to talk about a topic at all.
As part of this quest to figure out how we might have enduring and generative conflict at Kol Tzedek, the board has created a communications charter for itself. It outlines intentions for how we want to collaborate and communicate.
The goal is to "Foster clarity, transparency, and accountability in KT board level communication through articulating our values and practices in and out of formal meetings."
Its guiding values are:
- We all care deeply about Kol Tzedek.
- We make expectations clear.
- We have the information we need to make decisions.
- We have strong opinions and we are open to influence.
- We strive for a balance of voices.
- We prioritize accessibility needs as best we can.
- We aspire to be fully present during meetings.
- We rest during Shabbat.
Even with these beautiful intentions that I truly believe in, I was stunned by how painful it was when at a recent board meeting, we disagreed about something that really mattered to me. It was a reminder of how hard it truly is to continue trusting across deep disagreement.
In Jewish tradition, there are two primary tools that maklokhet l'shem shammayim - for enduring, generative conflict. The first is one we may be more familiar with, Teshuva. Hard to define and even harder to do. Teshuva is a core spiritual practice, a belief we are capable of turning towards our best selves, a model of transformative justice that includes confession, remorse, forgiveness, and the commitment to change our ways. It is both personal and interpersonal. We sing of its powers in the Unetane Tokef - U'Teshuva, u'tefillah, u'tzedakah - ma'avirin et roah hagezera. That Teshuvah, prayer, and righteous giving can transform the harsh decree.
Because real Teshuva is so important and also so hard, the rabbis developed another mechanism that makes it possible for us to endure conflict and heal from hurt.
And it's called Tochecha - say this with me - To Che Cha.
It is as difficult to pronounce as it is to define, and even harder yet to practice. Tochecha as I understand it is what those of us who were socialized lesbians would call "feedback." It is something like constructive criticism.
The basic job of Tochecha is to get someone else on the Teshuva train.
But its underlying value is that we need to see ourselves as responsible to and for one another, to help each other do Teshuva, to lovingly hold each other accountable.
The first mention of Tochecha comes directly from Torah itself. We will actually read it aloud this afternoon in The Holiness code.
Leviticus 19:17 reads:
Lo tisna et achicha bilvavecha,
You are not to hate your fellow in your heart,
Hocheiach tochiach at amitecha,
You should absolutely rebuke your friend,
In other words, give your friend Tochecha.
Why should you do this?
The verse continues:
v'lo tisa alav chet
That you not miss the mark because of him.
This verse has three parts. If you want to look at it with me. P.672-3. Verse 17.
The first part of the verse, lo tisna - do not hate your brother, your brethren, your kin. This reads almost like one of the Ten Commandments. I might argue it should have been one, nestled amongst don't murder and don't steal. Don't hate!
The second part,
Hocheiach tochiach at amitecha.
There is a powerful doubling of this verb which implies emphasis. Surely you must do this.
And then finally the third section,
That one not incur a chet, a transgression.
There are three possible, valid, and important readings of this third part.
One option is that it is a mitzvah to give Tochecha and if a person chooses not to, they too have missed the mark.
In other words, for your own sake, don't walk around resenting another person who has wronged you in the world. And the way, according to the Torah, to not walk around with this hatred and resentment, is hocheich tochiach - give them Tochecha.
But it is not only for our own benefit, but it also prevents them from doing further harm.
The second possible reading is that if we do not give this feedback, the person who has wronged us will have no way to get on the Teshuva train, and as a result they will keep missing the mark.
But it is the third reading that brings with it reason to be cautious about Tochecha.
In this case it reads, You should absolutely give your friend feedback, but not to the point of humiliation. [1]
V'lo tisa alav chet - Do not miss the mark in your Tochecha by shaming someone.
For this reason, the obligation to give feedback is limited to the case in which there is reason to believe that the feedback will bring about a change in behavior.
And thus the Talmud teaches, "Just as we are obligated to give feedback when we are likely to be heard, so too we are obligated to refrain from giving feedback when we are not likely to be heard." [2]
Tochecha is an art not a science. It is a spiritual practice not a code of conduct. I think it is an essential skill set that we must collectively hone in order to be able to endure difficult conversations and stay connected.
Tochecha presumes a shared value system, which is precisely why this communication charter was a radical first step toward transparency and accountability.
For many of us, Kol Tzedek, is a refuge; a place to reimagine family; a place to truly be our fully selves; a place to connect to something beyond ourselves. We are healing from the Judaism of our childhood or the religion of our childhood. And as a result I fear that when we encounter ideas or decisions that are not what we would have wanted, each of us may be quick to think that means we are not safe here, that we were never safe here.
Which is why I think that having difficult conversations is both risky and holy. Both at Kol Tzedek, and in our own lives - with our colleagues and our partners, our parents and our friends. In search of a greater shared truth, we risk sense of safety.
And the rabbis know this.
Consider this story:
Rav, a great scholar and teacher, had a conflict with a certain butcher. The butcher did not come to see Rav in order to make amends. So on the evening of Yom Kippur, Rav said to himself, "I will go help him appease me."
Rav runs into his student, who says, "You're going to kill someone." I think this part establishes that "everyone [but Rav] knows" that the butcher isn't going to do Teshuva, and that Rav's insistence shows that he is being self-righteous and insensitive to or unconcerned with how his Tochecha is going to be received - which is a necessary factor to determine before doing Tochecha. This is the thing: Rav is now essentially putting the butcher in the position of REFUSING to do Teshuva rather than merely refraining from doing so.
When he arrived at the butcher's shop, Rav found the butcher sitting and chopping the head of an animal. Rav stood over the butcher, looming, waiting. The butcher lifted his eyes, and saw Rav standing there. "So it's you, Abba," he said with contempt, addressing the sage by his first name. "Go away! I have no words for you." [3]
In this story, it's unclear exactly who has the power. There's Rav, an esteemed scholar, who enters the butcher shop. But he is also vulnerable, entering the butcher's domain, stepping onto someone else's turf. And there is the butcher, holding a knife. Rav stands, the butcher sits. The butcher does not rise to receive Rav, and does not stop his work to greet him. Rav looms over the butcher. The tension is palpable, and neither character seems to be acting respectfully toward the other. When the butcher says "I have no words for you," does he mean "I don’t owe you an apology?" Maybe he means "We don’t have any problems between us." Or maybe the opposite: "We do have a problem, but I am not going to acknowledge it."
The story takes a dramatic turn. Immediately after the butcher tells Rav to go away, cutting off the possibility for reconciliation, a bone shoots out from the head of the animal he is chopping, slips from his hands, striking him in the neck, and he dies.
Many commentators feel Rav should have known better. He should have known the butcher was not ready to make Teshuva. And he should have refrained from showing up at his doorstep.
This story seems to be telling us that our lives depend on making Teshuva. On trying to, anyway. The path to repair is messy. Walk that messy path, with caution!
Reckless conflict - conflict without regard for the very real people in it, and the ability of those people to hear us out - has the potential to lead to more hurt.
And says the Talmud, it can actually destroy us.
As the story illustrates, Tochecha is difficult for everyone involved. It is exceedingly difficult to be told that you have wronged someone without becoming defensive behind a wall of guilt and shame. And it is exceedingly difficult to muster the clarity and courage to tell someone they have wronged you, in such a way that no one is humiliated.
What the rabbis realize is that it is not only hard, it is virtually impossible.
Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah said, "...There is no one capable of receiving Tochecha." And Rabbi Akiva said, "...There is no one who knows how to word effective feedback." [4]
Which is why the source of all Tochecha must be love.
Because words that come from the heart, enter the heart.
And likewise,
כל אהבה שאין עמה תוכחה אינה אהבה
A love that is not willing to reproof, is not really love. [5]
Which is to say, while it has the power to kill the spirit of our community, it is also essential for our evolution and existence.
Which is precisely why in a moment when we recite the Unetane Tokef, when we will call on God as מוֹכִיחַ (mokhiach) who hold us all accountable, we begin by asserting God's love as the source of his Tochecha.
וְיִכּון בְּחֶסֶד כִּסְאֶךָ וְתֵשֵׁב עָלָיו בֶּאֱמֶת.
Your throne is steadfast love
אֱמֶת כִּי אַתָּה הוּא דַיָּן וּמוֹכִיחַ
Truly, you are the Judge who calls us all to account.
Out of love for each and every one of you, and the community we are actively building, I pray we are able to be patient with these difficult conversations so that we have the clarity to say what can be heard and the wisdom to not say, that which cannot yet be heard.
Let us not be more eager to have the hard conversations with each other than we are to turn inwards and do the work of Teshuva with ourselves.
In the words of Marcia Falk,
Let us distinguish the parts within the whole
And bless their differences.
Like the sabbath and the six days of creation
May our lives be made whole through relation.
Now you might ask, how important really is Teshuva anyways? Well, the rabbis of the Talmud get a little hyperbolic about Teshuva.
So great is Teshuva, says Rebbe Hama bar Hanina, that it brings healing to the whole world.
I can top that, Rebbe Yonatan says:
Teshuva is so great that it brings redemption closer.
Reb Shmuel Bar Nachmani weighs in:
You wanna know how amazing Teshuva is?
Teshuva elongates the years of a person’s life!
Rebbe Meir concludes:
Listen. I'll tell you what Teshuva is capable of.
When one individual makes Teshuva, the whole world is forgiven.
On this Yom Kippur,
May the hours we spend in prayer and reflection bring healing to us all.
May it reduce our stress, increase the love in our lives and lengthen the years of our life.
And may we merit to see the whole world forgiven.
Gmar Hatimah Tova, May we be sealed for life.
[1] Rambam, Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Deot 6:8
[2] B.T. Yevamot 65
[3] B.T. Yoma 87a
[4] Sifra 89a-89b
[5] Bereshit Rabba 54:3