The Judgement of Rosh Hashanah
When we are chozer be’teshuva, we usually focus on our actions. When we become more sophisticated, perhaps we even consider our middos; surely, we need to do teshuva for them as well. However, the primary focus of teshuva actually lies elsewhere.
The well-known Yerushalmi, cited by Rabbeinu Chananel in Rosh Hashanah, states:
זך וישר היית לא נאמר אלא זך וישר אתה – עכשיו.
“You are judged on Rosh Hashanah not on what you did throughout the year, but on where you are now.” This means that the judgment on Rosh Hashanah concerns whether you are currently on the correct path.
What does this imply? Typically, judgment involves reviewing a file of past actions. Here, it appears no specific file is presented; the past is not taken into account. How can it be that you’re judged solely on your current state? What is the basis of this judgment?
The judgment is on your bechira, not on the actions resulting from it. The real focus should be on the bechira itself, because our decision-making process is flawed. If your bechira is faulty, it’s no surprise that you commit aveiros. It’s like using a crooked and short yardstick to build a house. If the yardstick is defective, then of course the floor and walls will be faulty; the issue is not with the floor nor the walls, rather with the yardstick.
Therefore, let’s concentrate on making bechira in the right way. When we will work on our bechira, Hashem will say, “This person deserves another year because now they have the right tool for Avodas Hashem.” Until now, we were using the wrong tool; let’s ensure we have the right tool in our hands.
The Vidui of Rav Nisim Gaon
We see this point in the central part of the Yom Kippur tefillah—the vidui (confession) of Rav Nisim Gaon. It’s definitely an overwhelming vidui, but there’s one part in it that’s particularly perplexing:
בַּמָּה אֲקַדֵּם, אוֹ מַה רְפוּאָה אֲבַקֵּשׁ, כְּבֵן סוֹרֵר וּמוֹרֶה הָיִיתִי, כְּעֶבֶד מוֹרֵד עַל אֲדוֹנָיו, כְּתַלְמִיד חוֹלֵק עַל רַבּוֹ, אֵת אֲשֶׁר טִהַרְתָּ טִמֵּאתִי, וַאֲשֶׁר טִמֵּאתָ טִהַרְתִּי, אֶת אֲשֶׁר הִתַּרְתָּ אָסַרְתִּי, וַאֲשֶׁר אָסַרְתָּ הִתַּרְתִּי, אֶת אֲשֶׁר אָהַבְתָּ שָׂנֵאתִי, וַאֲשֶׁר שָׂנֵאתָ אָהַבְתִּי, אֵת אֲשֶׁר הֵקַלְתָּ הֶחֱמַרְתִּי, וַאֲשֶׁר הֶחֱמַרְתָּ הֵקַלְתִּי, אֵת אֲשֶׁר קֵרַבְתָּ רִחַקְתִּי, וַאֲשֶׁר רִחַקְתָּ קֵרַבְתִּי, אַךְ לֹא לְהַכְעִיסֶךָ נִתְכַּוַּנְתִּי.
“What shall I do? What should I plead for? I was like a wayward son, like a servant rebelling against his master, like a student disputing his teacher. What You purified, I defiled; and what You defiled, I purified. What You permitted, I forbade; and what You forbade, I permitted. What You loved, I hated; and what You hated, I loved. Where You were lenient, I was stringent; and where You were stringent, I was lenient. What You drew near, I distanced; and what You distanced, I drew near. But it was never my intention to anger or spite You.”
Where does Rav Nisim Gaon derive this confidence from? How can he be so sure that his actions were not done to spite Hashem? Perhaps they were! Maybe he’s such a great tzaddik that he can confidently say that when he strayed, it wasn’t out of spite. But for most of us, can we really be so certain?
Flawed Bechira
We see here that the root problem is not the action itself—because if it were, it would be considered lehachis (spiteful defiance). If someone deliberately chooses to commit a sin, knowing it’s against Hashem’s will and specifically doing it to spite Him, that’s lehachis. But Rav Nisim Gaon points out that this isn’t our issue. The true problem lies not in the actions themselves but in the bechira—in the entire process by which we make decisions.
Our flawed decision-making process, our incorrect measuring of values, that is the real issue. The problem isn’t in what we did, but in how we arrived at those decisions. This, according to Rav Nisim Gaon, is where our teshuva must focus.
We need to acknowledge that we have an issue with bechira, and we must reflect on what it truly means to be a boicher. We’ll discover that it requires a very sincere and deep way of thinking. There’s something profound happening within a person when they make a bechira.
The Pressure of Yomim Noraim
However, pressure should not be part of this process. When we focus solely on actions, it becomes very binary: either you did the right thing or you didn’t, and that creates tremendous pressure. For instance, as the Yomim Noraim approach, and you take them seriously, you begin to think, “I have to change this and this and this.” When you view bechira as solely about the outcomes, you end up focusing on countless things—perhaps closer to 5,000 issues. Then, as Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur arrive, you’re overwhelmed with pressure to change all of these outcomes. You feel compelled to make a kaboleh, and then you find yourself trying to commit to changing those 5,000 things. But it simply doesn’t work.
This is where the well-known advice from R’ Yisroel comes in: make a strong decision to fix just one small thing. But it’s hard to sincerely identify with that approach because you know deep down that you have 5,000 problems. How can fixing one thing make all those other problems disappear? Yet, you believe in it because R’ Yisroel was a great man, and you trust his guidance. Still, the pressure remains.
The Nature of Avodas Hashem: Diligent Work Without Pressure
The truth is, Avodas Hashem is a significant task. It’s not easy; you have to work very hard. But there should be no pressure involved. It is like playing the violin, which is an apt analogy. When you play the violin, you work incredibly hard. Have you ever watched a violinist practice, playing scales up and down, jumping between notes, bowing in various ways?
They practice day and night, working tirelessly, but without pressure. Because the moment you play under pressure, the tone becomes jarring and dissonant. It disrupts the music. So, no pressure, just relaxed, persistent effort—that’s how you play the violin.
The same principle applies to Avodas Hashem; you should work very hard, but without pressure. However, if you’re stuck in binary thinking—either yes or no—then pressure is inevitable. Even with Reb Yisroel’s approach, there’s still some small amount of pressure. And it’s actually not that small, because you’re aware that this small thing is your only hope, and you must hold onto it no matter what. You believe that fixing this one thing will somehow resolve all the other 5,000 issues.
All this creates is pressure, and that pressure is totally counterproductive. We need to find a way to work on ourselves conscientiously and diligently, without creating any pressure.
Bechira and Life
Rabbeinu Yonah in Sha’arei Teshuvah states:
ודע כי המעלות העליונות נמסרו במצות עשה. כמו מעלות הבחירה שנאמר (דברים ל) ובחרת בחיים.
“The greatest qualities of a human being were given through positive commandments, and the first among them is bechira.”
R’ Yonah lists the bechira as the first of the ‘great qualities’; this suggests that bechira is foundational. Without it, not only can you not be an Oved Hashem, but you’re not even fully human. He says that the source of bechira is the posuk in Nitzovim which says, Ubocharto BaChayim—”You shall choose life.” Rashi notes that the Borei Olam does a great kindness as if taking our hand, placing it on the good side, and telling us, “Choose this.”
Now, someone might ask, “Who doesn’t want to live?” So, of course, you will choose life. What does “You shall choose life” really mean? Why does the Borei Olam have to guide my hand?
This implies that from my own perspective, I might not recognize true life when I see it. I might not perceive life in the mitzvos. But the Borei Olam commands me to choose life, placing my hand on the right path and saying, “This is life.” Thus, we see that I must choose the mitzvos not just as actions, but because they embody life itself.
The Essence of Bechira: Hergesh in Mitzvos
R’ Yisroel Salanter teaches that life, in this context, means an emotional response—kol chai margish. Life means experiencing a hergesh. However, this hergesh is not to be confused with excitement or fleeting emotions – a הרגשה; rather it’s a deep, delicate response, an emotional connection to the mitzvah. In our case, we might not immediately perceive this hergesh in the mitzvos—they might seem dry at first. But bechira means choosing the mitzvah because you know that within it lies a profound hergesh, even if you can’t feel it yet. Bechira, then, is not just about choosing an action; it’s about choosing the life within the mitzvah. This is the essence of bechira—choosing life that you may not yet perceive.
People speak about this concept as if it only applies to beginners. They might tell a young student starting their journey in Torah learning, “Yes, it’s difficult at first, but eventually, it will become sweet, just like it was for the great gedolim, who found every moment of learning to be so precious and delightful.” But the posuk Ubocharto BaChayim is addressed to everyone—whether it’s the Arizal, the Vilna Gaon, the Ramban, or anyone else. Hashem always has to guide our hand to the good side because we might not see it ourselves. This was true even for the greatest of our sages. Their bechira was the same—it wasn’t just for beginners.
This concept of bechira is very different from the common understanding. Some people think that bechira is like a donkey standing between two identical bales of hay, unable to decide which to eat, eventually starving due to indecision. They imagine that bechira is simply choosing to go right instead of left. But the Torah doesn’t say, “Choose right,” or “Choose mitzvos.” It says, “Choose life.” That’s what bechira is about—choosing life, even when it’s a life you can’t fully perceive. It is like a father that has to guide your hand because, left to your own devices, you wouldn’t do so. This is how bechira is fundamentally structured.
Choosing Life on Rosh Hashanah
On Rosh Hashanah, we seek life from the Borei Olam. That’s what we want—real life. Now, with this perspective, everything falls into place. When I stand before the Borei Olam on Rosh Hashanah and declare, “I am choosing life in the way You want,” it’s no longer just about past actions. It’s about my bechira in life itself. When the Borei Olam sees that I genuinely want to choose life, He can say, “This person deserves life,” because they are choosing the right thing, the life that aligns with His will.
This understanding of a human being as someone who has bechira is profound. It’s not just a philosophical concept, though it’s often treated that way. People think of it in terms of human complexity—being a creature with good and bad inclinations, capable of making decisions between them. This is all true, but it doesn’t capture the essence of bechira. The true essence of bechira is encapsulated in Ubocharto BaChayim—”You shall choose life.” It’s not merely about standing between two options and making a decision based on external factors like learning halacha or following a rebbe’s instruction. It’s about choosing life, which is a deeply personal and internal decision.
This concept is closely related to the kaboleh ketanoh of R’ Yisroel, who emphasized taking on something easy and small. He illustrates this with the example of tzitzis, where there are white strings, which are inexpensive, and t’cheiles (blue strings), which are costly. It is easier to acquire the white strings; the appropriate kabolleh would be on that, as the punishment on that will be more severe.
It’s not about doing business with Hashem. Not wearing t’cheiles might be viewed less severely due to the expense involved, but not wearing the white strings is entirely different. Here, the only excuse is a lack of desire, which stems from the fact that the mitzvah feels dry—there’s no hergesh in it.
If I truly felt a hergesh in the mitzvah of tzitzis, I would wear them without hesitation. But without that hergesh, the mitzvah seems lifeless. Here, the Borei Olam intervenes, taking my hand and placing it on the tzitzis, saying, “There is incredible life within this mitzvah.” I might look at the tzitzis and think it’s just some strings attached to the corners of a garment, but the command Ubocharto BaChayim tells me there’s a profound chiyus within it.
Choosing the Life Embedded in Mitzvos
This is where the challenge arises—to be open to the life within mitzvos that I don’t naturally perceive. It’s easy to deepen my connection to something I already find meaningful, like tefillah or learning, but expanding my life involves embracing the mitzvos that don’t initially resonate with me. When I choose to engage with these mitzvos, I discover hidden qualities that might have been overlooked but are truly life-giving. That is why R’ Yisroel emphasizes that the kabolleh should be easy, because then the central issue will be about me and my connection to the mitzvah, and that is how the kabolleh will affect my life.
Understanding this makes it clear that when you approach Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur with this mindset, you position yourself to be zoiche to life. You’re choosing to live in the way that the Borei Olam desires—not just performing the right actions, but truly trying to find the life embedded within His mitzvos. This is the essence of bechira—choosing to live in a way that reflects the divine life present in every mitzvah, even when it’s not immediately apparent.
