The Role of Regret in Teshuvah

The Role of Regret in Teshuvah

I was recently thinking about the role of nechamah (regret) in the teshuvah process. The Rambam spells out this requirement in Hilchos Teshuvah 2:2:

What is teshuvah? That the sinner should abandon his sin, and remove it from his plans, and resolve in his heart not to do it again, as it is stated, "The evil one should abandon his way, and the man of iniquity his plans" (Yishayahu 55:7). Likewise, he should regret having transgressed, as it is stated, "for after I did teshuvah, I regretted; after I became aware [of my sin], I slapped [my] thigh [in anguish]" (Yirmiyahu 31:18). And the One Who Knows Hidden Things should testify about him that he will never return to this sin, as it is stated, "We will no longer say, 'O our gods!' to the work of our hands, for it is with You that an orphan finds mercy" (Hoshea 14:4). And he must verbally confess and say these matters which he resolved in his heart.

My question emerged when thinking about a unique category of aveirah: an aveirah which ends up improving the transgressor’s life – either because it yields a benefit, or saves him or her from harm. For the sake of brevity, we will refer to this as "the case of the beneficial aveirah." Here are a few examples:

• There are many alcoholics and drug addicts who owe their recovery to “hitting rock bottom.” They recognize that if they hadn’t hit rock bottom, they would have persisted in their dangerous lifestyle – or, worse yet, they would be dead. 

• A person commits adultery and begets a mamzer/mamzeret, whom they raise as a child who they love and cherish. 

• A disenchanted and disenfranchised FFB person "goes off the derech" for a significant period of time, engages in a variety of aveiros, and through this, comes to appreciate the true value of Judaism in his or her life; that recognition, in turn, becomes the foundation of his or her new Jewish identity, which lasts for a lifetime.

All of these cases raise the same difficulty: How can a person honestly regret having committed the aveirah in question? How can the addict truly regret hitting rock bottom if doing so resulted in his salvation? How can the adulterer genuinely regret committing adultery, knowing that his beloved son or daughter would never have come into existence otherwise? How can the "off-the-derech baal teshuvah" honestly regret the numerous aveiros which ultimately rekindled his relationship with Judaism?

In order to answer this question, we must understand the nature of the nechamah component of teshuvah. Before we learn what it is, we must first establish what it is not.

"To have nechamah" does not mean "to wish that the aveirah never happened." The derech ha’Torah is to bring us closer to reality – not further away. The aveirah did happen, and to wish that it didn’t happen is to venture into a fantasy land. To the contrary, one must continue to face the reality of one’s past transgressions even after the teshuvah process is complete, as David ha’Melech said: "my sin is before me, constantly" (Tehilim 51:5).

Nor does "nechamah" refer to the pangs of shame and guilt which immediately follow in the wake of the aveirah. This is evident from the Rambam's placement of nechamah within the teshuvah procedure. Nechamah is the fourth step in the process - not the first. The pasuk that the Rambam quotes also supports this: "for after I did teshuvah, I regretted" (Yirmiyahu 31:18)

Likewise, "to have nechamah" does not mean "to stew in guilt and brood excessively over having transgressed," even after one has completed the primary teshuvah process. Not only is this type of regret unhealthy and unproductive, but it also runs contrary to the derech ha’Torah. The Rambam, in Hilchos Avel 13:11 writes: 

A person shouldn’t be excessively aggrieved (lit. "a person shouldn’t be too harsh with himself") over his dead [relative], as it is stated, "Do not weep for a dead man, and do not shake your head for him" (Yirmiyahu 22:10) – in other words, [do not cry] excessively, for such is minhago shel olam (the way of the world), and a person who pains himself over the minhago shel olam is a fool. Rather, how should he mourn? Three days for crying, seven days for eulogizing, and thirty days for [refraining from] haircuts and the other five [Rabbinic mourning practices]. 

If a person is considered to be a fool for excessively mourning and "being too harsh with himself" over the death of a loved one, then it is certainly foolish to be excessively aggrieved over an aveirah. Although cheit is certainly worthy of some degree of bemoaning – as the navi said, "Over what should a living person bemoan? A man over his own sins" (Eichah 3:39) – even cheit is "minhago shel olam," as Shlomo ha’Melech said, "For there is no man on earth who is [so righteous] and does not sin" (Koheles 7:20).

So what does nechamah mean in the context of teshuvah? I believe the answer boils down to a concept I learned from a shiur given by Rabbi Maroof on the topic of coping with tragedy. Rabbi Maroof cited a midrash from Pirkei d’Rebbi Eliezer. The midrash relates an incident in which Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai lost a son, and his colleagues came to provide him with nechamah (consolation). Several Tannaim attempted to comfort him by citing other instances of people in Tanach who suffered losses and were consoled (e.g. Adam ha’Rishon, David ha’Melech, Iyov, Aharon ha’Kohen). To each of these examples, Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai responds in the same way: "Why are you telling me about the tragic losses of other people? That doesn’t help me – it just makes things worse!"

Finally, Rebbi Elazar ben Azaryah comes and says: 

“I would like to offer you a mashal (parable). To what can this matter be compared? – To a man to whom the king entrusted a deposit. Each and every day the man cries and shouts and says, ‘Woe is to me! When will I depart from this deposit in peace?’ So it is with you, my master. You had a son. He read Torah, Prophets, Writings, Mishnah, Halacha, and Aggadah and he left the world without sin. You should be consoled that you returned the deposit intact.” 

[Rebbi Yochanan ben Zakkai] said to him, “Rebbi Elazar, my son – you have consoled me in the manner that human beings console.”

In explaining the meaning of Rebbi Elazar ben Azaryah’s comment (which I will not delve into here), Rabbi Maroof defined nechamah in the context of mourning:

The word in Hebrew for consolation is "nechamah." "Nechamah" means actually "to change your mind" [as in] "Hashem changed His mind (va'yinachem) the harm He declared He would do to His people" (Shemos 32:14). It means "to change your mind." "le'nachem" – "to console somebody" – means to help them change their perspective.

Rabbi Maroof went on to explain how Rebbi Elazar ben Azaryah’s mashal helped Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai to change his perspective by helping him to find meaning in his own loss. This "change of mind" is the essence of real nechamah over a personal tragedy. Rabbi Maroof elaborated in his description of this understanding of nechamah: 

If you want to use the word "cope [with their loss]," that's the best term. To cope with it [means] to see it in a manner that is manageable. To "cope with it" means to see it in a way that one can integrate it. What happens when we have a terrible loss and terrible suffering is that we feel like our personalities are broken, [and that we] are not whole, and we cannot function … To be able to integrate [the tragedy] into yourself again, to be able to absorb it, you need to be able to see it in a way that will fit, [so] that you can digest it.

To my mind, Rabbi Maroof’s definition of nechamah is the key to understanding the nechamah-component of teshuvah. "Nechamah" means "to change one’s mind" or "to change one’s perspective.' Theoretically, it is possible for a person to "quit" an aveirah "cold turkey" without nechamah. In other words, he can stop doing the aveirah, remove it from his plans, and resolve never to do it again – all without undergoing a real change of perspective on that aveirah.

This is where "nechamah" enters the picture. It is not enough to stop doing the aveirah and ensure that it never happens again. Teshuvah demands more. It demands that we understand how and why our involvement in this aveirah was harmful, and stemmed from a distorted view of reality. Teshuvah involves a transformation of the mind, from the mentality which contributed to our doing of the aveirah to a new state of mind, in which we would never do the aveirah. 

While looking for images to use in this blog post, I came across the following piece of street art:

"Never Regret Anything because at one time it was exactly what you wanted."

Needless to say, the Torah would not condone the first half of this message. However, the second half can serve as an excellent catalyst for arriving at genuine nechamah over one's past transgressions. The first step is to recognize that the aveirah is something that you wanted - at least, on some level, to the point where you went through with it. The second step is to understand the distortion involved in that desire. The final step is to develop your knowledge, middos, and values to the point where you no longer see that action as a good. That is the true philosophical "regret" which is an essential part of teshuvah.

Obviously, this is easier said than done. But nobody ever said teshuvah is easy.

I believe we can now answer our initial question. How can a person honestly have nechamah for committed an aveirah if that aveirah which improved his life? The answer is: by recognizing that the decision to do the aveirah and the results of that aveirah are only related circumstantially - not essentially. I will explain what I mean by introducing one more concept.

Hint: Don't.

I play a strategic trading card game called Magic: the Gathering. The game involves a tremendous amount of skill, but also involves a healthy amount of chance. Accordingly, it has been described as a combination of chess and poker.

The Magic pros caution against a fallacy they call "results-oriented thinking" (or "R.O.T."). To commit the fallacy of R.O.T. is to evaluate the success and failure of in-game decisions based exclusively on the results, rather than the strategic decision-making process. 

For example, let's say we were playing a simple "game" in which I roll a 20-sided dice. You have two choices: you can choose to bet on the numbers 1-19, or on the number 20. If you win, you get $100, and if you lose, you lose $500. Obviously, the rational decision is to bet on the numbers 1-19, which would give you a 95% chance of winning, as opposed to a 5% chance. 

Now, let's say we play. I roll the dice and it lands on 20 and you lose $500. If, in such a situation, you would say to yourself, "Oh man! I CLEARLY made the wrong decision! I SHOULD have picked 20!" then you have fallen prey to Results-Oriented Thinking. And if you were really ignorant about probability, you would conclude, "Next time I'll be sure to bet on 20." 

In contrast, if you were wise, you would shrug your shoulders at your loss and say, "I made the correct decision, and the odds were in my favor, but the dice just happened to fall out on an improbable outcome." And you would bet on 1-19 the next time, and the next time, and the next time - even if the dice landed on 20 multiple times in a row (provided you were certain that the dice were weighted fairly). 

So too, when doing teshuvah, one must not fall prey to the fallacy of Results-Oriented Thinking. Indeed, "the case of the beneficial aveirah" is somewhat of a misnomer. It may very well be that a person gained a tremendous benefit from an aveirah - and not just an imaginary benefit, but a real benefit. 

But here is the critical point: just because the transgressor received a beneficial result does not mean that the aveirah was a good decision. The decision to transgress must be evaluated on its own terms, completely independently from the consequences that came about as a result. For example:

• The drug addict's life might have turned around after he hit rock bottom, but that doesn't change the fact that indulging an addiction is a bad decision.

• The adulterer might have ended up raising a wonderful child whom he or she loves, but that doesn't change the fact that committing adultery is a bad decision.

• The "off the derech" dabbler might have ended up reunited with Torah, but that doesn't change the fact that violating Torah is a bad decision.

This is why it is so important to understand the true nature of the nechamah required by halacha. Without undergoing the process of nechamah - of "changing one's mind" by recognizing the error(s) which led to the transgression - one will not be able to adequately rid oneself of the feeling that the aveirah was actually a good decision, which just happened to be (labeled) as bad. The truth is quite the opposite: the decision was a bad one, even though it just happened to yield a benefit.

I feel like there is a lot more to explore here. I hope that at the very least I have raised a few questions about nechamah and its place in teshuvah. If you have any thoughts, questions, or critiques, I would love to hear them, as always.