29 Aug KI SAVO: WHEN G-D WANTS YOU TO COMPLIMENT YOURSELF BEFORE I CONFESS MY SINS, I MUST CONFESS MY GREATNESS

Make a Confession!
I want to achieve an
ambitious goal with
this essay: I want to
bring back confession
to Judaism. People
attribute confession to
Catholicism; they think it is the job of the
priests. I believe it is time to bring it back to
our people. I am going to ask of each of my
readers that during the following day you
should make at least one confession.
Now before you dismiss my plea, allow me
to explain myself.
Tithing Cycle
This week’s parsha, Ki Savo, discusses an
interesting law known as “Vidui Maaser,” “the
Tithing Confession.”
In the Holy Land, tithes must be taken from
one’s crops, according to a set three-year
cycle. During each of the three years, a portion
of the produce (around 2 percent) is given to
the Kohanim, the priests, who had no income
of their own (due to their Temple service).
This is known as terumah. Another portion of
the produce (around 10 percent) was given to
the Leviim, who also had no income of their
own, as they also served in the Temple and
served as teachers. This was known as maasar
reshon, the first tithing. There were other
tithes that differed from year to year. Here is a
quick glance:
Year 1—in addition to terumah and maser
reshon, you separate a portion of the crop,
known as maaser sheni. This is taken by the
owner to Yerushalayim and eaten there. It
gave Jews an opportunity to spend time in the
Holy City, contribute to its economy, and learn
from its masters.
Year 2 – same as year one.
Year 3—in addition to terumah and maser
reshon, a portion of the crop was separated
and given to the poor, known as maaser ani
(this was in addition to many other
contributions made to the poor from each
farm.)
Year 4 – same as years 1-2.
Year 5 – same as years 1-2, 4.
Year 6 – same as year 3.
Year 7 – This was a sabbatical year, shemitah,
in which no plowing or planting was permitted,
and no tithes were given. That year the field
was open to everybody to enjoy.
Now, on the day before Passover of year four
and year seven, every owner must make sure
that he has delivered all the tithes of the past
three years to their proper destination—to the
Priests, the Levites, and the poor. Then, on the
last day of Passover of the 4th and 7th years,
the farmer recites a special declaration found
in this week’s portion.
Let us review the text in the Torah:
“You shall say before G-d your Lord: I have

removed all the sacred portions from my
house. I have given the appropriate portions to
the Levite, to the convert, to the orphan and to
the widow, following all the commandments
You prescribed to us. I have not violated your
commandments, and have not forgotten
anything… I have listened to the voice of the
Lord my G-d; I have done everything You
commanded me…”
Basically, G-d wants us to verbally declare
that we have done everything right. We
distributed all the produce we were required
to. We tell G-d bluntly that we perfectly
implemented all of His commandments on this
matter.
This is, no doubt, an interesting mitzvah. G-d
wants us to compliment ourselves. He wants
us to declare emphatically: G-d! I did it, and I
did it well!
But why? He knows we did it. We know we
did it. What is the point of making this official
verbal declaration?
We have no other precedent for this in
Judaism—to literally compliment ourselves
before the Almighty!
This Is a Confession?
What is stranger is that this recitation has a
name in all of Talmudic literature: Vidui
Maaser, “the Tithing Confession.” Yet
virtually, this recitation is the furthest thing
from a confession. A “vidui,” a confession, in
its classic sense, means that we admit our guilt
and ask for forgiveness. We have in Judaism a
number of confessional prayers (most of them
will be recited on Yom Kippur, the day of
confession and atonement), and they all share
the same message: Ashamnu, bagadnu,
gazalnu, debarnu dofi… “We are guilty; we
have dealt treacherously; we have stolen; we
spoke falsely, etc.” We confess for the sins and
errors that we committed in one form or
another, we express remorse and we resolve to
change in the future.
Yet in this case, we encounter a “confession”
of a diametrically opposite nature. Imagine
you approach your wife and say: My dear, I
want to make a confession to you. Your wife’s
ears perk up to hear what you did this time.
You continue:
“I want to confess to you today, that I am a
wonderful, accomplished, flawless,
magnificent, incredible, sensitive, kind, caring,
handsome, and passionate husband and father.
I have fulfilled all of my duties; I have been
loyal to you with every fiber of my being; I
have dutifully always fulfilled all my
responsibilities; I forgot nothing, I did not
transgress; I have been faithful and dutiful,
committed and moral. Alas, I am the perfect
man.”
Well, call this guy any name you’d like, but
for G-d’s sake, it is not a confession!…
Yet, astoundingly, this is exactly what we do
with the “tithe confession.” Listen to the
words: “You shall say before G-d your Lord: I

have removed all the sacred portions from my
house. I have given the appropriate portions to
the Levite, to the convert, to the orphan, and to
the widow, following all the commandments
You prescribed to us. I have not violated your
commandments, and have not forgotten
anything… I have listened to the voice of the
Lord my G-d; I have done everything You
commanded me.”
And Judaism calls this a confession, a
“vidui”!
Perhaps if more Jews would know that this is
“confession,” we would not leave this art to
the Catholics; the synagogue would have long
lines every day of Jews coming to confess,
telling us that they are absolutely perfect,
impeccable, flawless, and faultless.
A Catholic boy and a Jewish boy were talking
and the Catholic boy said, “My priest knows
more than your rabbi.” The Jewish boy said,
“Of course he does, you tell him everything.”
Poor Christians! They think confession is
sharing all the negative stuff. Nonsense!
Confession is saying how perfect you are. “I
have fulfilled all of your commandments.”
I’m Awesome
Yet it is in this very mitzvah of “tithing
confession” that we encounter an incredible
truth: It is important for people to verbalize,
from time to time, how good they are, how
beautiful they are, how powerful they are. Not
in a generic, meaningless, and foolish way,
and certainly not in a haughty way, but rather
in a very specific, directed, and focused
manner. There is always one area, one aspect
of your life in which you are a success story.
And you need to be able to see it and verbalize
it. In this above law, the Jew specifies that as
far as tithing is concerned, he has done a
magnificent job.
And this is called “confession.” Do you know
why? See how the Sages, 1800 years before
the development of many psychological
schools of healing and therapy, taught us this
potent truth: Only when I believe that I am
good, I’m capable of regretting my mistakes.
If I believe that I am just a dirty old rat, I can’t
really regret my wrongdoings, because I see
them as inevitable. When I appreciate my
potential for greatness, I can hold myself
accountable for my errors.
Genuine confession requires not only
acknowledging and confronting a mistake; it
also requires a belief that you are essentially
good, that you are capable of being good, and
that in some areas you are exceptionally good.
If my garment is raddled with stains, and you
pour some orange juice on it, it won’t bother
me. I may not even notice it. But if I am
wearing a fresh, clean, and beautiful suit and
you spill the chocolate mousse with vanilla on
it, I will take note. If I consider my soul dirty
and filthy, I can’t even take note of my
inappropriate and immoral behaviors, of my
hurtful words, of my toxic thoughts; they fit

right in with my distorted self. Only when I
appreciate my innate dignity, majesty, and
purity, can I begin to notice and feel bad about
all that which tarnishes and eclipses such a
beautiful life.
Have you ever heard a couple argue in the
following manner? She: Darling, you are
making a mistake again.
He: Of course! I am always wrong; you are
always right. I am the dumb, stupid, bad,
husband, who is always dead wrong. You are
the perfect wife. You are never ever wrong.
Well, we all know that no woman is pleased
with this acknowledgment. Because it is
meaningless and cynical. Whenever anybody
says, “I am always wrong,” it means “I am
never wrong; you are just impossible to
please.” Whenever anybody says, “you are
always right,” it means “you are never right.”
Sincere confession means that I am
sometimes right. But now I am wrong. I am
not always wrong; it is now that I am wrong.
There is a verse in Shir Hashirim: “I am dark
and beautiful.” These are the two
interconnected sides necessary for all personal
growth: I am dark, I may have succumbed to
darkness, but I am inherently beautiful. Hence,
1) I regret what I did. I know that it did not
befit me; I am so much better. I want to fix it,
because this behavior compromises my
inherent beauty. 2) I acknowledge that I had
the power not to do it; it was not inevitable. I
was capable of choosing otherwise and I regret
my wrongdoing. 3) I know that I possess the
power to fix it for the future. I am not a victim.
To truly confess a mistake or a sin requires
that I can sometimes tell G-d: I am good! I am
great! I have done exactly what You wanted. I
have not transgressed. And because I am
capable of doing things correctly I can
sincerely regret my actions when I fail to do
so. The tithing declaration is called confession
because it enables and gives meaning to all
other confessions of repentance.
An Exercise
So I return to my original plea: I want each of
you to make a confession today. Tell
someone—your rabbi, your friend, your
spouse—something very positive about
yourself. One positive thing about your soul
and your life. Something you are proud of. Not
in an arrogant way, but as a “confession.”
Because when you realize how good and
capable you are, you might ask yourself the
question, why I’m I not living up to my
potential?