Awakening from Spiritual Malaise
Teshuva and Parashat Nitzavim:
Rabbi Ari Kahn
As the annual Torah cycle draws to a close, Parashat Nitzavim emerges as a pivotal moment for reflection and renewal. Positioned just before Rosh Hashanah, the parasha invites us into the theological and existential framework of Teshuva—repentance—not merely as a seasonal practice, but as a foundational principle of Jewish identity and destiny.
The locus of this discussion begins in Perek Lamed, often referred to as Parashat Teshuva. The repeated use of the root שב (to return) throughout the chapter is striking. Verses such as וַהֲשֵׁבֹתָ אֶל לְבָבֶךָ, וְשַׁבְתָּ עַד ה׳ אֱלֹקֶיךָ, and וְשָׁב ה׳ אֱלֹקֶיךָ אֶת שְׁבוּתְךָ form a linguistic and conceptual tapestry of return—both human and divine. The recurrence of this root underscores the centrality of Teshuva in the Torah’s vision of spiritual restoration.
The Rambam, in Hilchot Teshuva, Chapter 7, cites this section not as a source for a personal commandment, but as a prophetic assurance. He writes that כל ישראל יעשו תשובה בסוף גלותן—all of Israel will ultimately repent at the end of their exile. This framing is significant: Teshuva is presented not as a mitzvah incumbent upon the individual, but as a historical inevitability, a divine promise embedded in the arc of redemption.
It is important to note that the Rambam, while not functioning here as a biblical commentator (parshan), is meticulous in his use of scriptural sources. His citation of this passage as a haftachah—a divine assurance—rather than a commandment, reflects a broader theological stance. Teshuva, in this context, is not tethered to the calendar or the liturgical cycle of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, but to the eschatological unfolding of Jewish history.
This distinction becomes even more pronounced when we consider the structure of the Mishneh Torah. The Rambam’s decision to include Hilchot Teshuva in Sefer Mada—the Book of Knowledge—is itself a statement. Unlike the Shulchan Aruch, which omits non-practical laws, the Rambam constructs a comprehensive system encompassing all of Judaism. His 14 books and precisely 1,000 chapters reflect a deliberate architectural vision.
Notably, there is no Masechet Teshuva in the Mishnah. The Rambam introduces Teshuva as a standalone subject, placing it within a philosophical framework that begins with theology and epistemology. Sefer Mada addresses the foundations of belief, the rejection of idolatry, and the intellectual prerequisites for religious life. Teshuva, in this schema, is not merely behavioral correction—it is a return to truth.
This placement suggests that the Rambam views Teshuva as an intellectual and spiritual awakening, rather than a ritualistic or emotional response. It is the reorientation of the self toward divine reality. The absence of precedent for a “Book of Teshuva” in rabbinic literature only highlights the Rambam’s innovation and the depth of his theological vision.
In this light, the opening chapter of Hilchot Teshuva assumes profound significance. The Rambam could have begun with the second chapter, which defines Teshuva and its mechanisms. Instead, he begins with a halacha that establishes the obligation of Vidui—verbal confession—as the essential act accompanying Teshuva. This choice reflects his understanding that Teshuva is not a private meditation, but a relational act directed toward God.
The Rambam writes:
רמב"ם הלכות תשובה פרק א הלכה א
כָּל מִצְוֹת שֶׁבַּתּוֹרָה בֵּין עֲשֵׂה בֵּין לֹא תַעֲשֶׂה אִם עָבַר אָדָם עַל אַחַת מֵהֶן בֵּין בְּזָדוֹן בֵּין בִּשְׁגָגָה כְּשֶׁיַּעֲשֶׂה תְּשׁוּבָה וְיָשׁוּב מֵחֶטְאוֹ חַיָּב לְהִתְוַדּוֹת לִפְנֵי הָאֵל בָּרוּךְ הוּא שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר אִישׁ אוֹ אִשָּׁה כִּי יַעֲשׂוּ וְגוֹ' וְהִתְוַדּוּ אֶת חַטָּאתָם אֲשֶׁר עָשׂוּ זֶה וִדּוּי דְּבָרִים, וִדּוּי זֶה מִצְוַת עֲשֵׂה, כֵּיצַד מִתְוַדִּין אוֹמֵר אָנָא הַשֵּׁם חָטָאתִי עָוִיתִי פָּשַׁעְתִּי לְפָנֶיךָ וְעָשִׂיתִי כָּךְ וְכָךְ וַהֲרֵי נִחַמְתִּי וּבֹשְׁתִּי בְּמַעֲשַׂי וּלְעוֹלָם אֵינִי חוֹזֵר לְדָבָר זֶה, וְזֶהוּ עִקָּרוֹ שֶׁל וִדּוּי, וְכָל הַמַּרְבֶּה לְהִתְוַדּוֹת וּמַאֲרִיךְ בְּעִנְיָן זֶה הֲרֵי זֶה מְשֻׁבָּח, וְכֵן בַּעֲלֵי חַטָּאוֹת וַאֲשָׁמוֹת בְּעֵת שֶׁמְּבִיאִין קָרְבְּנוֹתֵיהֶן עַל שִׁגְגָתָן אוֹ עַל זְדוֹנָן אֵין מִתְכַּפֵּר לָהֶן בְּקָרְבָּנָם עַד שֶׁיַּעֲשׂוּ תְּשׁוּבָה, וְיִתְוַדּוּ וִדּוּי דְּבָרִים שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר וְהִתְוַדָּה אֲשֶׁר חָטָא עָלֶיהָ, וְכֵן כָּל מְחֻיְּבֵי מִיתוֹת בֵּית דִּין וּמְחֻיְּבֵי מַלְקוּת אֵין מִתְכַּפֵּר לָהֶן בְּמִיתָתָן אוֹ בִּלְקִיָּתָן עַד שֶׁיַּעֲשׂוּ תְּשׁוּבָהוְיִתְוַדּוּ, וְכֵן הַחוֹבֵל בַּחֲבֵרוֹ וְהַמַּזִּיק מָמוֹנוֹ אַף עַל פִּי שֶׁשִּׁלֵּם לוֹ מַה שֶּׁהוּא חַיָּב לוֹ אֵינוֹ מִתְכַּפֵּר עַד שֶׁיִּתְוַדֶּה וְיָשׁוּב מִלַּעֲשׂוֹת כָּזֶה לְעוֹלָם שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר מִכָּל חַטָּאוֹת הָאָדָם.
Rambam, Hilchot Teshuva, Chapter 1, Halacha 1:
All the commandments in the Torah—whether positive or negative—if a person transgresses any one of them, whether intentionally or unintentionally, when he repents and returns from his sin, he is obligated to confess before God, blessed be He, as it is stated: “A man or woman who commits any sin… they shall confess the sin they committed” (Numbers 5:6–7). This verbal confession is a positive commandment. How does one confess? He says: “Please, God, I have sinned, I have transgressed, I have rebelled before You, and I have done such-and-such. I regret and am ashamed of my actions, and I will never return to this behavior again.” This is the essence of confession. The more one elaborates and extends this process, the more praiseworthy it is.
Similarly, those who bring sin or guilt offerings for inadvertent or deliberate transgressions do not achieve atonement through their offerings until they repent and confess verbally, as it is stated: “He shall confess that he has sinned regarding it” (Leviticus 5:5). Likewise, those liable for capital punishment or lashes do not achieve atonement through their execution or flogging until they repent and confess. Similarly, one who injures another or causes financial damage—even if he pays what he owes—does not achieve atonement until he confesses and resolves never to repeat such behavior, as it is stated: “From all the sins of man” (Leviticus 16:30).
Here, Teshuva is framed as a process that culminates in Vidui. The use of both תשובה and וידוי—return and confession—emphasizes the dual movement of inner transformation and outward articulation. The obligation to confess before God situates Teshuva within the realm of divine relationship, not merely personal ethics.
Thus, the Rambam’s opening chapter is not ancillary—it is foundational. It establishes the theological and halachic architecture upon which the rest of Hilchot Teshuva is built. It is a declaration that Teshuva begins not with ritual, but with recognition; not with action, but with awareness.
The Rambam’s emphasis on Vidui as the actionable core of Teshuva is further underscored by his assertion that Vidui constitutes a positive commandment. This claim has generated significant discussion among commentators, many of whom question whether the mitzvah lies in the act of Teshuva itself or in its verbal expression. Some argue that Vidui is merely the vehicle through which Teshuva is actualized, while others maintain that it is the mitzvah in its entirety.
The Rambam proceeds to define the structure of Vidui:
כֵּיצַד מִתְוַדִּין אוֹמֵר אָנָא הַשֵּׁם חָטָאתִי עָוִיתִי פָּשַׁעְתִּי לְפָנֶיךָ וְעָשִׂיתִי כָּךְ וְכָךְ וַהֲרֵי נִחַמְתִּי וּבֹשְׁתִּי בְּמַעֲשַׂי וּלְעוֹלָם אֵינִי חוֹזֵר לְדָבָר זֶה, וְזֶהוּ עִקָּרוֹ שֶׁל וִדּוּי,
How does one confess? He says: “Please, God, I have sinned, I have transgressed, I have rebelled before You, and I have done such-and-such. I regret and am ashamed of my actions, and I will never return to this behavior again.” This is the essence of confession.
This formula includes essential elements: recognition of the sin, emotional rejection of the act (charata), shame, and a commitment not to repeat the transgression. These components reflect a comprehensive model of repentance—one that engages cognition, emotion, and volition.
Notably, the Rambam’s formulation does not begin with action. Teshuva begins with awareness, with the internal realization that one’s behavior has violated divine will. The confession is not addressed to society, nor even to oneself—it is directed to God. This reinforces the theological dimension of Teshuva: it is not merely moral rehabilitation, but a restoration of covenantal intimacy.
The Rambam then expands the scope of Vidui to include those bringing korbanot (sacrificial offerings), those receiving judicial punishments, and those seeking atonement for interpersonal wrongs. In each case, Vidui is indispensable. Atonement is not achieved through ritual or restitution alone—it requires verbal acknowledgment and a sincere commitment to change.
This leads to a broader insight: the Rambam constructs Teshuva as a universal mechanism of spiritual repair, applicable across domains—ritual, ethical, judicial, and interpersonal. And at the heart of this mechanism lies Vidui.
The Rambam’s architectural choices in Hilchot Teshuva reflect his broader philosophical vision. Teshuva is not merely a seasonal practice or a liturgical obligation—it is a foundational principle of human agency. It affirms that man, though fallible, possesses the capacity for transformation. And this transformation begins not with ritual, but with recognition.
The Ramban, in his commentary on Parashat Nitzavim, offers a foundational interpretation of the Teshuva passage that deepens and complements the Rambam’s view. He affirms that the verses in Deuteronomy 30:1–10 are not merely aspirational—they are prophetic. They describe a guaranteed future in which the Jewish people, at the end of their exile, will repent and be redeemed. This is not a conditional hope but a divine promise embedded in the Torah’s eschatological vision.
Yet the Ramban goes further. In verse 11—“For this commandment that I command you today is not hidden from you, nor is it distant…”—he identifies Teshuva not only as a prophecy but as an eternal mitzvah. According to the Ramban, this verse refers to the commandment of Teshuva itself. It is not in heaven, nor across the sea—it is “very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to perform it.” Teshuva is accessible, immediate, and incumbent upon every Jew in every generation.
This dual framing—Teshuva as destiny and as duty—is profound. It means that while national repentance is assured by divine promise, individual repentance remains a personal obligation. The mitzvah of Teshuva is not reserved for moments of crisis or exile; it is woven into the fabric of Jewish life. The Torah does not merely predict that we will return—it commands us to do so.
In this light, Teshuva becomes both the mechanism of redemption and the measure of spiritual maturity. It is the bridge between exile and return, between concealment and clarity, between estrangement and intimacy with God.
The Ran, in his Derashot, offers a compelling interpretation of the verses in Parashat Nitzavim. As a student of a student of the Ramban, he stands on the proverbial shoulders of his great master and expands the theological architecture of Teshuva with remarkable nuance.
He focuses on the phrase וַהֲשֵׁבֹתָ אֶל לְבָבֶךָ—“you shall return to your heart”—and notes that the Torah does not initially describe any external change. The return is internal, cognitive, and emotional. It is the stirring of conscience, the awakening of moral clarity. Teshuva begins not with confession or restitution, but with the quiet realization that one’s life has been built on illusion.
This reading aligns with the Rambam’s placement of Teshuva in Sefer Mada, the Book of Knowledge. Teshuva, in this framework, is not merely a behavioral correction—it is a reorientation of the intellect and the soul. The initial movement is inward, and only subsequently does it manifest in speech and action. The heart awakens before the mouth speaks. The soul stirs before the hands act.
The Ran further distinguishes between two stages in the verses: the initial hirhur teshuva—the internal contemplation—and the subsequent active return to God. He explains that God responds to each stage individually. For the first, God grants mercy and softens the exile; for the second, He completes the redemption. This layered reading reveals Teshuva as a process of spiritual emergence, where even the first flicker of awareness elicits divine compassion.
In this way, the Ran affirms that Teshuva is not a single act but a journey—from internal recognition to external transformation. And it is this first step, the return to the heart, that sets the entire redemptive sequence in motion.
This reading aligns with the Rambam’s placement of Teshuva in Sefer Mada, the Book of Knowledge. Teshuva, in this framework, is not merely a behavioral correction—it is a reorientation of the intellect and the soul. The initial movement is inward, and only subsequently does it manifest in speech and action.
The concept of hirhur teshuva—repentance initiated by thought alone—emerges as one of the most radical and nuanced elements in the halachic literature surrounding Teshuva. The Talmudic passage in Kiddushin (49b) presents a provocative case: a man, known to be a rasha gamur(utterly wicked), betroths a woman on the condition that he is a tzaddik. The Gemara rules that the betrothal may be valid, shema hirher teshuva b’libo—perhaps he contemplated repentance in his heart.
This ruling has generated extensive commentary and debate. The Rambam, when codifying this halacha, maintains the ambiguity: the woman is me’kudeshet safek, betrothed under doubt, because the man may have experienced a sincere internal shift. Yet this raises a profound question: can a fleeting thought, absent action, confession, or restitution, truly transform a person’s spiritual status?
The implications are staggering. If hirhur teshuva alone suffices to redefine one’s moral identity, then Teshuva begins not with behavior, but with awareness. It is the moment of existential rupture—the recognition that one’s current path is untenable. This realization, even if not yet articulated or acted upon, marks the beginning of transformation.
Nevertheless, many commentators have struggled with the radical implications of hirhur teshuva. The B’nei Yissaschar, for example, attempts to mitigate the impact by asserting that such a transformation must be rooted in teshuva me’ahava—repentance motivated by love of God. This reframing places the fleeting thought at the apex of the Teshuva continuum, rather than at its inception.
Yet this interpretation may obscure the essential insight of the Gemara: that Teshuva begins with the recognition of brokenness. It is the moment when a person realizes that their life is built on illusion, and that another path is possible. This awakening, even if not yet accompanied by confession or restitution, marks a fundamental shift in identity.
Rav Kook refers to this as nitzotz haTeshuva—the spark of repentance. It is the first flicker of light in the darkness, the initial rupture in the fog of moral confusion.
Rav Soloveitchik similarly identifies Rosh Hashanah as the day of hirhur teshuva. Drawing on the Rambam’s description of the shofar as a wake-up call—uru yesheinim mi’shinatchem—he sees the day not as one of confession, but of awakening.
Indeed, the absence of vidui on Rosh Hashanah is striking. There is no Ashamnu, no Al Cheit. The liturgy does not focus on sin, but on coronation—on the acceptance of divine sovereignty. This tension is reflected in the verses of Nehemiah, where the people, upon hearing the Torah, begin to weep. They are told instead to rejoice, to eat and drink, for the day is holy.
This paradox—judgment without confession, awakening without articulation—underscores the unique character of Rosh Hashanah. It is the moment when the soul stirs, when the illusion begins to crack, when the possibility of change first emerges.
In a lecture delivered in 1976, Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik offered a profound meditation on the symbolic structure of time as it relates to Teshuva. Drawing upon the Ramban and Ibn Ezra’s commentary on Bereishit, he examined the recurring phrase וַיְהִי עֶרֶב וַיְהִי בֹּקֶר—“and it was evening, and it was morning”—as more than a chronological marker. Rather, it reflects a metaphysical rhythm embedded in the human condition.
The term Erev (evening) is etymologically linked to ta’arovet—mixture or confusion. It denotes twilight, the liminal space between light and darkness, clarity and ambiguity. It is the time when forms blur, when moral categories collapse into uncertainty, and when man loses his bearings. Erev symbolizes existential disorientation, the fog in which sin often takes root.
By contrast, Boker (morning) signifies discernment. It is the time when light reveals the contours of reality, when distinctions re-emerge, and when man regains his capacity to distinguish between good and evil. Boker is the moment of awakening, of clarity, of moral reconstitution.
Rabbi Soloveitchik posited that Teshuva is structured around this dialectic. Man sins in the Erev—not necessarily at night, but in the metaphorical darkness of confusion. Yet it is precisely this confusion that makes Teshuva possible. Were man always in a state of clarity, he would be an angel, not a human being. The greatness of man lies in his ability to emerge from Erev into Boker, to transform failure into growth, and confusion into insight.
This framework aligns seamlessly with the concept of hirhur teshuva. The initial moment of repentance is not action, but thought—not confession, but contemplation. It is the silent cry of the soul, the shame that precedes speech, the pain that precedes healing. It is the Erev of Teshuva—the moment of existential crisis that opens the door to transformation.
On Yom Kippur, this structure is enacted liturgically and emotionally. The night is filled with introspection, with the weight of memory and regret. The day brings clarity, the possibility of renewal. Teshuva, in this schema, is not merely a return—it is a creative act. The penitent does not revert to his former self; he becomes a new being. As the Rambam teaches: אתמול היה שנוא לפני המקום, היום הוא אהוב—“Yesterday he was despised by God; today he is beloved.”
This transformation is what makes Yom Kippur a day of unity—between past and future, sin and sanctity, man and God. It is the culmination of a process that begins in the fog of Erev and ends in the light of Boker.
The transformative power of Teshuva lies not only in its capacity to repair past actions but in its ability to redefine the self. The moment of hirhur teshuva—the internal realization that one’s life is misaligned with truth—is not merely the beginning of repentance; it is the beginning of a new identity.
Rabbi Soloveitchik emphasized this point by drawing attention to the existential rupture that precedes Teshuva. A person immersed in sin may possess free will in theory, but in practice, their moral imagination is constrained. They cannot conceive of an alternative path because their desires and worldview are shaped by the fog in which they live. Teshuva begins when that fog is pierced—when the individual recognizes that their current reality is illusory.
This moment of awakening is not yet action, but it is no longer passivity. It is the first movement toward truth. The Rav described this as the moment when a person realizes that their existence is structured around falsehood, and that another possibility exists. That realization alone marks a shift in identity. The person who recognizes the lie is no longer the same person who embraced it.
In a separate lecture, the Rabbi Soloveitchik explored this dynamic through the biblical figure of Terach, the father of Avraham. Terach, an idolater, begins a journey toward the land of Canaan but does not complete it. The Rav interpreted this as a symbolic act of hirhur teshuva. Terach, confronted by the radical monotheism of his son, experiences a moment of doubt—a jarring thought: What if Avraham is right? That question, that rupture in confidence, is the spark of Teshuva. Whether Terach completes the process is secondary; the awakening itself is transformative.
This interpretation challenges the assumption that Teshuva must be fully actualized to be meaningful. Rabbi Soloveitchik, like Rav Kook, understood that the initial spark—the nitzotz—is itself redemptive. It is the moment when free will is reclaimed, when the individual begins to see beyond the illusion.
The implications of this view are profound. The person who experiences hirhur teshuva is no longer the same sinner. They have begun the journey toward truth. And in halachic terms, this shift may be sufficient to redefine their spiritual status. As the Gemara teaches, one who betroths a woman on the condition that he is righteous may be considered righteous, shema hirher teshuva b’libo—perhaps he contemplated repentance.
This halacha, though perhaps enigmatic, reflects a deep theological truth: Teshuva is not merely behavioral correction. It is an ontological transformation. The individual who awakens to truth is no longer the person who sinned. They have entered a new moral universe.
This awakening is not yet confession. It is not yet a transformation. It is the moment of existential rupture, when the soul stirs and begins to question its trajectory. It is the recognition that one has been asleep—lulled by habit, illusion, and complacency.
The absence of Vidui on Rosh Hashanah is not an omission—it is a statement. The day is not about articulating sin; it is about confronting reality. It is the moment when the individual begins to see beyond the fog, when the possibility of Teshuva first emerges. It is the day when the soul begins to stir, when the illusion begins to crack, and when the possibility of change first enters consciousness.
Rabbi Soloveitchik understood that this moment is redemptive. The individual who awakens to truth, who recognizes the falsehoods they have embraced, is no longer the same person. They have begun the journey of Teshuva. And even before confession, even before restitution, they are inscribed in the Book of Life.
This insight offers profound hope. The shofar does not demand perfection. It demands awareness. It calls the soul to attention, to honesty, to possibility. And in that moment of hirhur teshuva, the individual becomes a tzaddik—not because they have completed the process, but because they have begun it.
The journey of Teshuva, as articulated through the writings of the Rambam, the Ran, Rav Kook, and Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, is not merely a personal spiritual exercise—it is a reclamation of reality. It is the process by which the individual awakens from illusion, reclaims free will, and reenters the moral universe.
This awakening begins with hirhur teshuva—the fleeting thought that disrupts complacency. It is the moment when one recognizes that the life they have constructed is built on falsehood, and that another path is possible. This recognition, though internal and silent, is transformative. The individual who experiences it is no longer the same person. They have crossed a threshold.
Rabbi Soloveitchik emphasized that Teshuva is not a return to a previous state, but the creation of a new self. The penitent does not revert—they are reborn. This transformation is not only personal; it is national. The verses in Parashat Nitzavim speak of a collective return, a redemption that begins with the stirring of conscience. The Rambam reads these verses as a prophetic assurance: כל ישראל יעשו תשובה בסוף גלותן—all of Israel will repent at the end of their exile.
This national Teshuva begins, like the individual’s, with awakening. It begins when a generation realizes that it has embraced illusions, that it has mistaken distraction for meaning, and that it longs for truth. Look at contemporary society: the prioritization of entertainment over introspection. These choices reflect a culture of illusion. Teshuva begins when that culture is questioned.
And this is the power of Rosh Hashanah. It is the day of awakening. The shofar pierces the fog, calling the soul to attention. It does not demand confession—it demands honesty. It asks the individual to confront the lies they have accepted, the falsehoods they have loved, and to begin the journey toward truth.
At that moment—when the soul awakens, when the illusion is shattered—the individual becomes a tzaddik. Not because they have completed the process, but because they have begun it. And in that moment, they are inscribed in the Book of Life.
This insight offers profound hope. Teshuva is accessible. It begins with a thought. It begins with the courage to question. And from that spark, a fire can grow.
What the Rabbi Soloveitchik did is theologically breathtaking. He took a halachic ruling—that the status of a confirmed sinner is transformed by mere acknowledgment that the world he lives in is a lie—and revealed its philosophical underpinnings. In that moment of hirhur teshuva, the sinner becomes a tzaddik, and the marriage is valid. Rabbi Soloveitchik applies this principle to Rosh Hashanah: by extension, we all become tzaddikim with mere wistful thoughts as the shofar sounds. We are written in the Book of the Righteous—the Book of Life.
But something is still missing. The fresh groom is indeed married and is now a tzaddik, but his sins still require atonement. His status has changed, but he still carries a spiritual—and sometimes actual—debt. For this, he must continue with the other stages of Teshuva: regret, acceptance for the future, and vidui (confession).
Likewise, the Jewish people, after hearing the shofar and attaining the status of righteousness, are still in need of atonement and forgiveness. Fortunately, the remainder of the Ten Days of Teshuva culminates in the appropriately named Yom Kippur—the Day of Atonement.
In a word: our status changes to righteous on Rosh Hashanah, and on Yom Kippur we achieve—if we use the day properly—complete atonement.
May we all, as individuals and as a nation, awaken to truth. May we reject the illusions that have clouded our vision. And may we be inscribed in the Book of Life—not because we are perfect, but because we have begun the journey. May we have the courage to pursue complete atonement, and may we merit that promised rendezvous with God, foretold in Parashat Nitzavim—a return not only to Him, but to ourselves.
And it shall be that when all these things—the blessing and the curse which I have set before you—come upon you, and you take them to heart among all the nations where the Lord your God has banished you, and you return to the Lord your God and listen to His voice according to all that I command you today, you and your children, with all your heart and with all your soul, then the Lord your God will restore your fortunes and have compassion upon you, and He will return and gather you from all the peoples where He has scattered you. Even if your outcasts are at the ends of the heavens, from there the Lord your God will gather you and take you. The Lord your God will bring you to the land which your forefathers possessed, and you shall possess it; He will do good to you and multiply you more than your ancestors. The Lord your God will circumcise your heart and the heart of your offspring, to love the Lord your God with all your heart and soul, so that you may live. The Lord your God will place all these curses upon your enemies and those who hate and pursue you. You shall return and listen to the voice of the Lord and perform all His commandments that I command you today. The Lord your God will make you abundantly prosperous in all the work of your hands—in the fruit of your womb, the fruit of your livestock, and the fruit of your land—for good, as the Lord once rejoiced over your forefathers, so shall He rejoice over you, if you listen to His voice and keep His commandments and statutes written in this Book of the Torah, and return to the Lord your God with all your heart and soul. For this commandment that I command you today is not hidden from you, nor is it distant. It is not in heaven, [so as to say], “Who will ascend to the heavens for us and take it, and let us hear it so that we may perform it?” Nor is it across the sea, [so as to say], “Who will cross the sea for us and take it, and let us hear it so that we may perform it?” Rather, the matter is very near to you—in your mouth and in your heart—to perform it. See, I have set before you today life and good, and death and evil, in that I command you today to love the Lord your God, to walk in His ways, and to keep His commandments, statutes, and judgments, so that you may live and multiply, and the Lord your God will bless you in the land to which you are coming to possess.
Rambam, Hilchot Teshuva, Chapter 7, Halacha 5:
All the prophets commanded concerning Teshuva (repentance), and Israel will only be redeemed through Teshuva. The Torah
רמב"ם הלכות תשובה פרק ז הלכה ה
כָּל הַנְּבִיאִים כֻּלָּן צִוּוּ עַל הַתְּשׁוּבָה וְאֵין יִשְׂרָאֵל נִגְאָלִין אֶלָּא בִּתְשׁוּבָה, וּכְבָר הִבְטִיחָה תּוֹרָה שֶׁסּוֹף יִשְׂרָאֵל לַעֲשׂוֹת תְּשׁוּבָה בְּסוֹף גָּלוּתָן וּמִיָּד הֵן נִגְאָלִין שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר וְהָיָה כִי יָבֹאוּ עָלֶיךָ כָּל הַדְּבָרִים וְגוֹ' וְשַׁבְתָּ עַד ה' אֱלֹהֶיךָ וְשָׁב ה' אֱלֹהֶיךָ וְגוֹ'.
I have learned this idea from what is written in the Torah: “And it shall be when all these things come upon you—the blessing and the curse… and you take it to heart… and you return to the Lord your God… then the Lord your God will restore your fortunes and have compassion…” (Deuteronomy 30). One must carefully examine these verses. First it says, “and you take it to heart,” then it says, “and you return to the Lord your God,” and later it says, “then the Lord your God will restore your fortunes and have compassion,” and again, “He will return and gather you from all the nations.” These two pairs of verses require explanation.
It appears that the first phrase, “and you take it to heart,” refers to contemplating repentance in the heart, though not yet completing it through action. Afterwards, one strengthens himself to fulfill it, which is what is meant by “and you return to the Lord your God and listen to His voice.” Then the Torah says that for each of these two stages, God will reward you accordingly. For the first—when you merely contemplated repentance in your heart—it says, “then the Lord your God will restore your fortunes and have compassion,” meaning He will incline your enemies to show you mercy and relieve you of your suffering. The word “restore” (v’shav) here is derived from the language of shuvah (repentance) and nachat(peace), as in “in returning and rest you shall be saved.”
However, God will not fully redeem you for this alone, just as you have not yet completed the full measure of repentance, so too He will not complete your redemption entirely. But for the second stage—“and you return to the Lord your God and listen to His voice”—which means you have fully completed the process of repentance, the Torah repeats and says, “He will return and gather you,” meaning He will likewise complete your redemption in full. As it is written afterward: “Even if your outcasts are at the ends of the heavens… the Lord your God will bring you to the land your forefathers possessed, and you shall possess it; and He will do good to you and multiply you more than your forefathers.” Blessed is the Lord forever, Amen and Amen.
דרשות הר"ן - הדרוש העשירי נוסח א
...וַאֲנִי לָמֵד דָּבָר זֶה מִמַּה שֶׁכָּתוּב בַּתּוֹרָה, וְהָיָה כִי יָבֹאוּ עָלֶיךָ כָּל הַדְּבָרִים הָאֵלֶּה הַבְּרָכָה וְגוֹ' וַהֲשֵׁבֹתָ אֶל לְבָבֶךָ וְגוֹ', וְשַׁבְתָּ עַד ה' אֱלֹהֶיךָ וְגוֹ', וְשָׁב ה' אֱלֹהֶיךָ אֶת שְׁבוּתְךָ וְרִחֲמֶךָ וְשָׁב גּוֹ'.וְצָרִיךְ לְדַקְדֵּק בַּמִּקְרָאוֹת הַלָּלוּ, כִּי אָמַר רִאשׁוֹנָה, וַהֲשֵׁבֹתָ אֶל לְבָבֶךָ, וְאַחַר כָּךְ אָמַר, וְשַׁבְתָּ עַד ה' אֱלֹהֶיךָ, וּפָסוּק אַחֲרוֹן גַּם כֵּן אָמַר, וְשָׁב ה' אֱלֹהֶיךָ אֶת שְׁבוּתְךָ וְרִחֲמֶךָ, וְאָמַר עוֹד, וְשָׁב וְקִבֶּצְךָ מִכָּל הָעַמִּים, וְצָרִיךְ בֵּאוּר מַה הֵם שְׁנֵי זוּגוֹת הַלָּלוּ, וְנִרְאֶה לְפָרְשָׁם כָּךְ, רִאשׁוֹנָה אָמַר וַהֲשֵׁבֹתָ אֶל לְבָבֶךָ כְּלוֹמַר שֶׁתְּהַרְהֵר הַתְּשׁוּבָה בַּלֵּב אֲבָל לֹא תְּשַׁלֵּמְנָה עֲדַיִן שֶׁתַּעֲשֶׂנָּה בְּפֹעַל, וְאַחַר תִּתְחַזֵּק לְהַשְׁלִימָהּ, וְזֶהוּ שֶׁאָמַר וְשַׁבְתָּ עַד ה' אֱלֹהֶיךָ וְשָׁמַעְתָּ בְּקֹלוֹ וְגוֹ', וְאַחַר אָמַר, שֶׁעַל שְׁנֵי דְבָרִים הַלָּלוּ יִגְמָלְךָ ה' עַל כָּל אֶחָד וְאֶחָד כְּפִי עִנְיָנוֹ, עַל רִאשׁוֹן שֶׁהִרְהַרְתָּ תְּשׁוּבָה בְּלִבְּךָ יֹאמַר וְשָׁב ה' אֱלֹהֶיךָ אֶת שְׁבוּתְךָ וְרִחֲמֶךָ, כְּלוֹמַר שִׁתְנֵךְ לְרַחֲמִים לִפְנֵי כָּל שׁוֹבֶיךָ וְיַנִּיחַ לְךָ מֵעַצְבְּךָ, וְיִהְיֶה "וְשָׁב" נִגְזַר מִלְּשׁוֹן בְּשׁוּבָה וְנַחַת תִּוָּשֵׁעוּן. אֲבָל לֹא יוֹצִיאֲךָ ה' בִּשְׁבִיל זֶה בִּלְבַד לִרְוָחָה, שֶׁכְּשֵׁם שֶׁאַתָּה לֹא הַשְׁלָמַת חֹק תְּשׁוּבָתְךָ כֵּן הוּא לֹא יַשְׁלִים עִמְּךָ לִפְדּוֹת נַפְשְׁךָ לְגַמְרֵי, אֲבָל עַל הַדָּבָר הַשֵּׁנִי שֶׁהִזְכִּיר לְמַעְלָה וְהוּא וְשַׁבְתָּ עַד ה' אֱלֹהֶיךָ וְשָׁמַעְתָּ בְּקֹלוֹ, שֶׁפֵּרוּשׁוֹ שֶׁתַּשְׁלִים חֹק תְּשׁוּבָתְךָ לְגַמְרֵי, עָלָיו שָׁנָה וְאָמַר וְשָׁב וְקִבֶּצְךָ, כְּלוֹמַר שֶׁכְּמוֹ כֵּן יַשְׁלִים הוּא גְּאֻלָּתְךָ מִכֹּל וָכֹל, וְכָתוּב אַחֲרָיו, אִם יִהְיֶה נִדַּחֲךָ בִּקְצֵה הַשָּׁמָיִם וְגוֹ' וֶהֱבִיאֲךָ ה' אֱלֹהֶיךָ אֶל הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר יָרְשׁוּ אֲבֹתֶיךָ וִירִשְׁתָּהּ וְהֵיטִבְךָ וְהִרְבְּךָ מֵאֲבֹתֶיךָ: בָּרוּךְ ה' לְעוֹלָם אָמֵן וְאָמֵן:
[If a man betroths a woman] on the condition that he is righteous—even if he is a completely wicked person—the betrothal is valid, for perhaps he contemplated repentance in his mind. [Conversely, if he betroths her] on the condition that he is wicked—even if he is a completely righteous person—the betrothal is valid, for perhaps he contemplated a thought of idolatry in his mind.
תלמוד בבלי מסכת קידושין דף מט עמוד ב
עַל מְנָת שֶׁאֲנִי צַדִּיק אֲפִילּוּ רָשָׁע גָּמוּר מְקוּדֶּשֶׁת שֶׁמָּא הִרְהֵר תְּשׁוּבָה בְּדַעְתּוֹ. עַל מְנָת שֶׁאֲנִי רָשָׁע אֲפִילּוּ צַדִּיק גָּמוּר מְקוּדֶּשֶׁת שֶׁמָּא הִרְהֵר דְּבַר עֲבוֹדָה זָרָה בְּדַעְתּוֹ.
See Bnei Yissaschar, Ma'amarei Chodesh Tishrei – Notes on Ma'amar 4, "The Greatness of Teshuva," Derush 14, also see Imrei Emet, Devarim, Parashat Nitzavim, Year 5693 (1933):
Editorial note: This resolves the halachic ruling that if a man betroths a woman on the condition that he is a completely righteous person, and he is in fact a completely wicked person—even guilty of sins warranting karet, capital punishment by the court, or desecration of God's name—the betrothal is still valid, because perhaps he contemplated repentance (Kiddushin 49b). This refers specifically to the well-known category of repentance out of love—understand this well.
בני יששכר מאמרי חודש תשרי - הערות מאמר ד - גדולה תשובה, דרוש יד
*) הג"ה ובזה יתורץ מה דאיפסק להלכה המקדש את האשה על מנת שאני צדיק גמור ונמצא רשע גמור (אפילו כריתות ומיתות ב"ד וחילול ה') מקודשת שמא הרהר בתשובה [קידושין מט ב] (היינו בתשובה הידועה תשובה מאהבה, הבן).
Imrei Emet, Devarim, Parashat Nitzavim, Year 5693 (1933):
In the portion of Teshuva (repentance), it is written: “And it shall be when all these things come upon you—the blessing and the curse… and you take it to heart among all the nations where the Lord your God has driven you” (Deuteronomy 30:1). Later (verse 8), it again says, “And you shall return.” But Teshuva was already mentioned earlier—why repeat it? The answer is that there are two forms of Teshuva: Teshuva out of fear and Teshuva out of love. Initially, regarding Teshuva out of fear, it says (verse 2), “and you shall listen to His voice.” Later, regarding Teshuva out of love, it says (verse 10), “when you listen to the voice of the Lord your God,” using direct address (lashon nochach). Through Teshuva out of fear, one arrives at Teshuva out of love, and through Teshuva out of love, one’s intentional sins are transformed into merits (Yoma 86b). This is what is written (verse 6) in connection with “And you shall return”: “And the Lord your God will circumcise your heart and the heart of your offspring to love the Lord your God…” And it is written (verse 7), “And the Lord your God will place all these curses upon your enemies and upon those who hate you, who pursued you.” The curses are reversed upon them—this is the sign. Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur follow this same pattern: Rosh Hashanah is Teshuva out of fear, and afterward, on Yom Kippur, the verse is fulfilled, “And the Lord your God will place all these curses upon your enemies,” as it says (Leviticus 16:22), “And the goat shall bear upon itself all their sins.” Intentional sins become merits. New spiritual energies are released; the forces return. And therefore, one must again perform Teshuva—“And you shall return.” Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are two gateways; on Yom Kippur, the inner gate is opened—the second gate.
אמרי אמת דברים פרשת נצבים שנה תרצג
בפרשת התשובה, והיה כי יבואו עליך כל הדברים האלה הברכה והקללה וגו' והשבות אל לבבך בכל הגוים אשר הדיחך וגו' (דברים ל א), ואחר כך (פסוק ח) כתיב עוד פעם ואתה תשוב, הלא כבר כתוב מקודם תשובה, אלא שיש ב' תשובות, תשובה מיראה ותשובה מאהבה, בתחילה גבי תשובה מיראה כתיב (פסוק ב) ושמעת בקולו ואח"כ גבי תשובה מאהבה כתיב כי תשמע בקול ה' אלקיך בלשון נוכח, ע"י תשובה מיראה מגיעים לתשובה מאהבה וע"י תשובה מאהבה נעשים הזדונות כזכיות (יומא פו ב), וזה דכתיב (פסוק ו) גבי ואתה תשוב ומל ה' אלקיך את לבבך ואת לבב זרעך לאהבה את ה' אלקיך וגו', וכתיב (פסוק ז) ונתן ה' אלקיך את כל האלות האלה על אויביך ועל שונאך אשר רדפוך, זה מתהפך עליהם וזה הוא הסימן, ר"ה ויו"כ הם ג"כ כך, ר"ה הוא תשובה מיראה ואח"כ ביו"כ מתקיים ונתן ה"א את כל האלות האלה על אויביך וגו' כדכתיב (ויקרא טז כב) ונשא השעיר עליו את כל עונותם, זדונות נעשות כזכיות, כוחות חדשים, הכוחות באים חזרה ולזאת צריכים שוב לעשות תשובה, ואתה תשוב, ר"ה ויו"כ הם שני פתחים, ביו"כ נפתחת הפנימיות, הפתח השני.
