Shortly before Rosh Hashanah two years ago I received a phone call from my friend Peter.
“Rabbi, I have a problem,” he said.
“Sure, how can I help you?”
“I’ve been dating a girl for quite some time and lately it’s gotten more serious,” he told me. “I’m helplessly in love with her.”
“That’s great news!” I said enthusiastically. “So, what’s the problem?”
That’s when Peter dropped the bombshell. “She’s not Jewish,” he said. However, “my parents want us to marry, my siblings are also encouraging the relationship, and most importantly, I love her and want to spend the rest of my life with her.”
“Hmm…” I said, my mind racing. “But why are you calling me? You sound like you’ve made up your mind.”
“As much as I love her, it bothers me that she’s not Jewish,” he answered. “But more than that, it bothers me that it bothers me.”
That line ran through my mind over and over. “It bothers me that it bothers me.” What a powerful testament to the purity of the soul!
My friend Peter is tormented by his predicament. He loves a woman who he knows he shouldn’t marry and his soul is capitalizing on that. His soul is pleading, crying out, “Set me free! Nurture me!” His soul wants to raise Jewish children and continue the chain of Jewish tradition.
We’re almost halfway through the Jewish month of Elul, the month immediately preceding Rosh Hashanah. Chassidic teaching explains that during the other 11 months of the year, G-d is like a king in his palace. When a king is in his court, he is less accessible. Only invited dignitaries and royalty can meet with him, appointments must be scheduled far in advance and can be cancelled at whim. But during the month of Elul, G-d is likened to a king in the field. When a king is out touring his land, he is much more accessible to his subjects. He wants to see how they live, and what they think and feel. Right now, G-d is “in the field.” He is closer to us than at any other time during the year and we can reach Him with much less effort than usual.
Also during the month of Elul we blow the shofar daily. The shofar represents the cry of the soul; the collective Jewish soul as well as our individual souls. It was that cry I heard in Peter’s heart. “It bothers me that it bothers me.” His soul was crying out for recognition and understanding.
I suggested to Peter that he pay his soul some of the attention it was begging for. “Come to shul every week, attend all our events and classes for a year. Feed your soul. Get involved. Unshackle your soul and harness its power by doing mitzvot and learning Torah.”
And while Peter was in a very specific situation, we can all benefit by doing the same. The word teshuva, usually translated as ‘repentance’ actually means ‘return.’ As we prepare for the new year, it is the most opportune time for us to do teshuva, to return to our true selves. We are all good people and we want to do the right things. Our souls are calling out for it. Let’s give them what they want.