Rabbi Charlie Cytron-Walker
We want everything to be “all better.” After scrapes, broken toys, mistakes – we have a solution and without thinking about it too deeply, we’ll proclaim to a child that the situation is “all better.” And a band-aid won’t make it “all better.” Duct tape won’t make it “all better.” And whether someone of any age is coerced into saying sorry, or it’s sincere, that act alone will not make it “all better.”
We know this. We know that “all better” doesn’t exist. That doesn’t mean that we don’t long for it. We crave the idea that everything will be ok – that we will be ok. We don’t get that guarantee – and that has to be ok, because we don’t have a choice.
That’s not to say that the tools of “all better” are useless. They’re not. A band-aid can provide a little protection, creating the space for healing. Duct tape can allow something that’s broken to function. Saying sorry provides the recognition that a wrong has occurred. They don’t make things “all better.” And they are profoundly significant.
It’s amazing what happens when we abandon the idea of “all better” and instead work within reality. Elul is a time to reflect on our wounded souls, our fractured relationships, and acknowledge both the hurts that we’ve administered and received. It’s not the time to make it “all better.” It is an opportunity to seek healing, hold what’s been fractured together, and work toward reconciliation. In Judaism, holiness has never required wholeness.