Maybe, just maybe, it’s okay

“I’m in survival mode,” she stated angrily. “We all are.”

I was honestly expecting that comment. At this time of year, we are being told collectively and individually to repent, and it feels unrealistic. Are we expected to repent for our sins, beat our chests and beg forgiveness from a G-d that feels so cruel at this time?

Now, not all of us feel that way. Many have found strength and comfort in G-d, particularly as humanity — whatever that means today — seems to be a hopeless ideal. Yet, when I was at a young adults’ social last night with a guest rabbi, I felt others’ pain.

“My friend is angry with G-d. She doesn’t even want to fast. To be honest, I’m also angry with G-d. What do I even say to her?” said one participant.

And there it was that I realized what I was not told growing up. It’s okay. It’s okay to be angry. It’s okay to accuse G-d. To say, “I’ve tried and now it’s in Your hands.” Because… we’re human. We have tried, but the point is not just throwing in the towel, it is rather — as the guest speaker called it — “failing forward.” The idea that we take our challenges, and we embrace them; we embrace our anger, and we understand why. And then we do our utmost to figure out what we can do.

When I was at school, I remember being terrified of this dark force called the “yetzer hara” (the evil inclination). I had conjured up in my mind that this dark evil force was always threatening to overcome me, to make me sin, to make me do evil. Fun to be a Jewish child, right?

And that, I daresay, is the problem. We are often encouraged to externalize. In the most ironic way, some educators teach children that there is this force that will make them sin while simultaneously saying that we are accountable. And that’s why, I distinctly remember with some amusement now, I told my parents that I was pulling out grass on Shabbat and it wasn’t my fault because “it was the yetzer hara.” For those who don’t know, you can’t do that. Both the grass and the accusation.

The most quintessential tale of evil starts in Genesis in the Garden of Eden when the snake provokes Eve into eating the fruit. Putting aside the multitude of problems with the narrative, I want to highlight one thing: how can she be held accountable? She was never commanded directly by G-d not to eat from the fruit; Adam had told her not to touch it even though G-d just told him not to eat it. Yet, many still blame her. I want to frame it differently because… it was a mistake. And that is okay.

What went wrong was not her action, it was her response. Their response was problematic because they hid. They couldn’t say, “We messed up. We’re sorry and let’s do better.” Because to be human is to make mistakes. If we didn’t err, we would be angels.

“So what’s the point? We’ll mess up again and again. If we can’t be perfect, what are we even doing?”

And this is where we get it wrong. We’re not “not sinning.” No. We’re going beyond the fact, going beyond what we did. We’re focusing on what we can do. How we can emulate G-d. We’re in this world, we might as well do something with it. Because… it’s okay to mess up. And we’ll only ever achieve some goodness if we realize what the evil is. We need to fight for a better future. In a woeful rewording of Hamlet, we need to learn who to be and what not to be.

It’s okay to be angry, and if we deny that many of us are, we’ll never grow. And who wants to live a lie? May this year be one of honesty, however painful it may be. A truthfulness with ourselves individually and collectively, and may the hostages and our soldiers speedily return safely to their families’ embrace.