As we enter the month of preparation for the Days of Awe, our job is to do a lot of inner soul work and searching; the idea is that we should feel ready to make the vows we will make when the new year starts. 

Vows are not to be taken lightly. In this week’s Torah reading, Ki Teitzei, we are told that if you make a vow and don’t follow through---and soon---you’re guilty (you have “Chet,” like the famous High Holy Day prayer, “Al Chet”). 

If you don’t make the vow, however, you’re okay. 

Promises are really important. Just like what you wish for, be careful what you promise. 

Let’s talk about responsibility for a minute.

Doctors are responsible for doing their best to save a person’s life, but it stops there. They’re not God, and they can’t promise. They’re liable if they do promise and then things don’t turn out okay. 

But how do we separate responsibility from blame and guilt? 

Our inner critical voices are so strong. Throughout this pandemic, but even before, people have been telling me, “Be gentle with yourself.”

If you’re lucky, you’ve been in touch with people who tell you the same thing--and regularly!

We carry these harsh voices within us from childhood, and even earlier. Our whole society is set up that way: “you didn’t study enough; you’re not smart enough; you weren’t paying attention; you didn’t listen to me; you aren’t grounded; you aren’t taking care of yourself your body your house your kids your money; just relax; you’re too stressed out; you’re too negative; just ignore it; get over it; move on and forget about it…” 

Aaaaaaaarghhhhhhh!!! The admonitions can go on and on and on and on, like this sentence and that song from my teenage years.

All these things may be true or even good advice, but does that make us guilty?

And how often do we say such things to other people without intending to make them feel guilty, but the effect is just that? 

One of the kindest things a friend recently said to me was, “I don’t think you do anything to cause your migraines. I think they just happen.” I was going through my mental list out loud of all the possible things I’d done to cause my latest one. (This is a (bad) habit of mine each time I have a migraine.)

“I don’t think you do anything to cause them.” 

She said it so casually, but the impact was so immense that it still pops into my head weeks later each time I get a migraine. And it lessens the stress, if not the pain. 

I’m not to blame. What a relief.

This week’s Torah tells us lots of things we’re responsible for, and migraines are not one of them. 

To give a few examples from the Torah: We’re responsible for giving back the animals that belong to a neighbor if we find them; marrying your dead brother’s wife so you know she’s taken care of; protecting a run-away slave; making sure you give full inheritance to a son whose mother you don’t love; leaving pickings in your orchard for the poor person; not taking too much from a field that’s not yours; listening to the priest’s instructions to keep a skin condition from spreading; crying out if you’re being raped. 

We are all responsible, but very few of us are actually guilty. 

If the priest doesn’t give you the right advice, you can’t be guilty of not containing the spread of the affliction. And if you cry out but you’re in a place where no one can hear you, it’s not your fault for not being heard.

My friend had no idea of the impact of her words, but they were heard, probably because of the casual, gentle way she said them. It just felt like a fact. She didn’t need to yell or admonish me. 

We all know what we have to do. We know our responsibilities. 

Here are some goals I like for the coming year:

• To be the gentle, casual voice that reminds myself and others, “It’s not your fault.”

• To not make unrealistic vows that I can’t carry out, whether they’re personal or for the world

• To seek out those who carry those gentle messages and make them my regular company.

• To keep crying out, in whatever ways I can, for what I need and for what is needed in the world, but to let go of any guilt for what I seem unable to change.

 Because we are all responsible, but only a few are truly guilty.