In Psalms 130:3-4 King David writes: “If iniquities were guarded by You, Hashem, my Master, who would stand? For forgiveness is with you, in order that you be feared.”
It is important to note that the word I translated here as “feared” could also be translated as “revered.” In Judaism, they are intertwined. This is not a fear that makes a person flee in terror, but an appreciation of the awesome nature of Hashem, and how fortunate we are to be close to Him. In fact, in Hebrew there is a connection between this “fear” and simply “seeing.” In Ex. 3:3, when Moshe first encounters the Burning Bush he says “I will turn aside v’Ereh, and I will see.” And then in v. 6 the Torah records that “Moshe hid his face for Yareh, he feared, to look towards Hashem.” Thus the Yirah, the “fear” of which we are speaking, comes from re’iyah, sight—a recognition of Hashem’s greatness.
With that said, something seems off. Why does Tehillim say that this fear or reverence for G-d is tied to His forgiveness? We don’t avoid speeding because we might be let off with a warning, we avoid speeding (at least, too much…) because we don’t want to get a ticket!
The answer is, though, that even getting that speeding ticket is not the proverbial “end of the world.” You “pay your debt to society,” you make amends, and you move on with life. Been there, done that—though, according to my kids, not as frequently as I deserve.
The threat of destruction is fundamentally different. We are supposed to be close to Hashem, and transgression is how we move away from Him. So if Hashem truly “guarded,” retained, our sins, there would be no hope. We would be permanently distant.
And that is where human psychology contradicts what we might imagine to be true. Skydivers whose parachutes entirely failed to open, yet survived, frequently describe a sense of calm. In one notable case, an experienced skydiver simply looked into his camera and said goodbye to his family, before landing on a bush that reduced his impact. There was no reason to panic, because there was nothing to be done.
Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, begins from the notion that there is always hope. Much as we are commanded to fast and avoid leather shoes, it is also common to wear white, recalling Isaiah 1:18: “if your sins will be as red as scarlet, they will be whitened like snow” [as well as the red thread that did miraculously turn white during Yom Kippur in the Holy Temple]. We anticipate forgiveness, even as we contemplate our failings.
The message of these days, then, is that as long as we live, return to Hashem is possible. [This Sabbath is called Shabbos Shuvah, the Sabbath of Return.] Hashem does not permanently guard our transgressions, instead promising that if we simply turn back towards His goodness and greatness, if we return to Him, then the red will become as white as pure snow. Hope is never lost!
That is what makes these days, conducive as they are to this type of return, such a precious opportunity. May we all take full advantage, and be sealed in The Book of Life for a year of blessing and success.
