Atonement, at its core, is about making things right, finding places where we have missed the mark, adjusting our aim, and trying again. On Yom Kippur, we ask for forgiveness and commit to renewing our best efforts to repair what is broken—within ourselves, within our relationship to the eternal, and in relation to the world around us. But where do we start? At a time when so many things feel broken, how can we possibly know where to focus our attention, to redirect our aim?
If your family is anything like mine, you might have no shortage of people eager to remind you of what they think you might have done differently. Or perhaps you have parents, coworkers, or friends gifted with a knack for brutal honesty. Even total strangers do not hesitate to criticize these days, especially when they are safely behind a screen or their steering wheel. At times, everyone seems to have an unsolicited opinion!
Despite the plethora of voices in our world today telling us what we should think and how we should act, I suspect that most of us find the answer to the question of atonement at Yom Kippur instinctively, in our hearts. Our conscience nudges us, reminding us of the times we’ve caused harm, been careless with our words, or failed to live up to our highest values. We may remember a look, a sigh, or an argument resulting from something we did or said, and we know in our hearts that these were not our finest moments.
At Yom Kippur, we traditionally revisit parts of Parashat Nitzavim, including the famous reminder that the Torah is not up in the heavens or beyond the seas, but rather “very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to observe it." The voices without are not the ones that really need our attention. Our moral compass is not distant, inaccessible, or in someone else’s take on the world. It is already within us—in the words we speak, in the compassion we feel, and in the actions we take.
Hidden within atonement lies the potential for renewal. We recognize our power to make different choices moving forward, to follow our hearts and to use our voices for good, for peace, for love. As we enter the new year, we are called to remember that our words have immense power—to wound or to heal, to divide or to bring people together. When we speak with care, act with compassion, and build meaningful connections with others, we honor the Torah that lives within each of us. It is not far off—it is right here, asking us to choose kindness, justice, and love.
May we all be inscribed in the Book of Life for a year of peace, goodness, and blessing. G’mar Chatimah Tovah.
With love,
Rebecca Abbate
