Our Gemara on amud aleph discusses a situation in which a witness observed an event while mentally competent, then lost his sanity, and later returned to compos mentis. One might think that since there was a period when his thinking was compromised, even if he seems restored, perhaps some aspect of his memory or thought remains distorted. This could be compared to reassembling a complex piece of machinery and finding a few parts left over on the workbench. Well, hmmm, it still works…but what if some vital piece is missing, and the malfunction will only appear later? Regardless, the halacha does as it often does—it rejects a theoretical problem in favor of the plain, observable evidence:
If he was mentally competent, then became insane, and then became mentally competent once again, he is fit to bear witness.
The Maharal (Netzach Yisrael 11) understands this idea allegorically as well. God creates man with a perfect soul, as only God can do. Though a person may sin, if he repents, the impaired interim period is ultimately of no consequence.
But how can this be true, logically or theologically? Shouldn’t the time lost during his sinful periods be irrecoverable? We find an answer in a teaching from Yoma (86b), though it raises its own questions:
Great is repentance, as one’s intentional sins are counted for him as merits, as it is stated: “And when the wicked turns from his wickedness, and does that which is lawful and right, he shall live thereby” (Yechezkel 33:19), and all his deeds, even his transgressions, will become merits.
So we have support for the Maharal from the Gemara, but how do we make sense of it? It’s one thing to say that God forgives, as forgiveness is essential in any relationship. However, how can a sin or misdeed be transformed into something positive?
The answer, I believe, lies in experience. When a person sinks to the depths and then finds a way out, he becomes a different person. The improper actions he committed have now become part of the fabric of his personality, contributing to his growth. Yes, they were sinful, and that’s why repentance is necessary. However, now that he has gone through these experiences and has extracted himself, there is likely something beneficial he can also extract from them. He is now a person who has lived through both sin and redemption, and who chooses moral behavior with the benefit of this broader experience.
Consider Reish Lakish, who was once a bandit until Rabbi Yochanan brought him back to Judaism, after which he became a great sage (Bava Metzia 84a). Are we to believe that this transformation was mere coincidence? Certainly not. His heroic grit, determination, and courage—qualities that served him in his former life—enabled him to become a great warrior for Torah. And not coincidentally, the very dictum about repentance from love in Yoma is attributed to Reish Lakish! One who repents out of love is able to make his past experiences part of his future growth, using them in a morally upright way.
This principle applies not only in our relationship with God but also in personal relationships. Every time there is an empathic rupture, or even a betrayal, it presents an opportunity to learn more about oneself and the other person. The outcome of this repair process can truly be a relationship that is stronger than it was before.
This Rosh Hashana, it struck me that "repentance out of love" doesn't necessarily mean performing the same penitence, just with love instead of fear as the motivator. Rather, it may mean *literally* returning to God out of love for Him. In other words, it reflects a desire to draw close to God out of love, rather than focusing primarily on the sin itself. Of course, sin and lack of remorse create obstacles to becoming close to God. Still, the essence of repentance out of love might be the desire to return, rather than the act of penitence, which, by definition, is often motivated by fear. A more precise translation might be “return out of love” rather than “repentance out of love,” emphasizing the wish to become as close to God as possible.