I’ve been thinking about selichos lately and trying to connect to this avodah a little more. One thing I’ve been thinking about is the different parts of selichos and what each one means.
There seems to be three components to selichos. One is simply telling Hashem that we are sorry for anything we may have done wrong during the year. Another is awakening Hashem’s infinite compassion by saying the Yud Gimmel Middos HaRachamim (13 attributes of mercy) again and again. And another is saying pesukim that remind us of Hashem’s infinite greatness, such as Ashrei and Lecha Hashem.
The parts about awakening Hashem’s rachamim and thinking about Hashem’s greatness are easier for me to understand and connect with. But the part of simply saying, “I’m sorry,” I find much harder.
I sometimes wonder: Am I really all that sorry about everything I did? Is there a point in saying I’m sorry if I may not mean it with every fiber of my being? If my “I’m sorry, I have sinned” was fully authentic, I would of course understand how important this Teshuva is. But during selichos I am not always in a place of a fully heartfelt and proper Teshuva! Is there really value to an external “Chatasi”?
I came across an amazing Medrash Tanchuma that helped me navigate these thoughts and gave me a newfound appreciation for the avodah of selichos.
When Bilaam was on his way to curse the Yidden, his donkey squeezed his foot against the wall, and Bilaam hit the donkey with his stick. Eventually, Hashem opened Bilaam’s eyes, and he saw a malach standing in the donkey’s way with a sword. Bilaam immediately told the malach, “Chatasi ki lo yadati” — “I have sinned, because I did not know that you were standing here.”
The Medrash tells us that Bilaam knew a secret. He knew that the moment a person says “chatasi” — I have sinned — the malach no longer has permission to punish him:
ויאמר בלעם אל מלאך ה’ חטאתי כי לא ידעתי להודיע שהיה רשע גמור ידע שאין עומד על הפורעניות אלא תשובה שכל מי שחטא ואומר חטאתי אין רשות למלאך ליגע בו
“Bilaam said to the angel of Hashem, ‘I have sinned, for I did not know.’ This teaches us that he was completely wicked. He knew that nothing can stand against punishment except teshuva, for anyone who sins and says, ‘I have sinned,’ the angel has no permission to touch him.”
Think about this. The Medrash describes Bilaam as a rasha for using this as a way to escape punishment. Bilaam wasn’t truly regretting what he had done. He said “chatasi” because he knew that by saying those words, the malach would not be able to punish him. And still, just by saying “chatasi,” he was spared.
How much more so for us Yidden.
When we say “chatasi,” when we tell Hashem that we are sorry for the things we have done wrong, we may sometimes wonder how much we really mean it. We may wonder how long our feelings will last or whether we are really going to change.
But there is one big difference: We want to mean it. Us Yidden are either truly sorry or we truly want to be sorry, but we aren’t saying chatasi just to trick the angel like Bilaam did. We truly want to come closer to Hashem. And if Bilaam’s “chatasi” had such power, then surely our “chatasi” does as well, even when it isn’t as heartfelt as we’d like it to be.
The sefer Sifsei Tzaddik adds another beautiful point. We know that when a Yid, chas v’shalom, falls and does an aveirah, it creates a bad malach, which can then try to pull him toward more aveiros. But when the Yid says “chatasi,” when he turns to Hashem and says, “I sinned, and I’m sorry,” those malachim no longer have permission to harm him. They can no longer pull him toward more aveiros.
So, as we begin these heilige days of selichos, let’s remember the great power of every word of teshuva, even if we do not feel it or connect to it as much as we’d like. Retzoneinu laasos retzonecha!
This article was found in Nekuda Tova Issue 97.
