The Secret of Service as a Divine Need: A Homily on Repentance (Column 170)

With God's help

This Sabbath I spoke in the synagogue and dealt with the connection between Shabbat Shuvah and the portion "Vayelekh". I will present those remarks here, with some additions in honor of the coming Yom Kippur.

"Return, O Israel, to the Lord your God."

The haftarah from Hosea opens with the verses:

Return, O Israel, to the Lord your God, for you have stumbled through your iniquity. Take words with you and return to the Lord; say to Him: Forgive all iniquity and accept what is good, and let our lips substitute for bulls.

The Sages expound this as follows (Yoma 86a):

Rabbi Levi said: Great is repentance, for it reaches up to the Throne of Glory, as it is said: “Return, O Israel, to the Lord your God.”

Repentance takes us to the Throne of Glory, up to the Lord. The Throne of Glory is the upper part of the world of Beri'ah and the lower part of Atzilut, and in this sense it expresses the meeting point between divinity and us. Repentance takes us all the way up to divinity (though not literally into it). It is an infinite path that never truly ends.

Repentance as a Process

In the Yalkut Shimoni (Isaiah, sec. 488) an amoraic dispute is cited regarding the relationship between a penitent and a perfectly righteous person:

Rabbi Abbahu said: In the place where penitents stand, the wholly righteous do not stand, as it is said: “Peace, peace, to the far and to the near”—to the far first, and only afterward to the near. And this disagrees with Rabbi Yohanan, for Rabbi Yohanan said: All the prophets prophesied only regarding penitents, but as for the wholly righteous, “No eye has seen, O God, besides You.” And as for Rabbi Yohanan, how does he interpret “to the far”? Far from transgression from the outset. “And to the near” means one who was initially near to transgression and then distanced himself from it.

Here we have an amoraic dispute over who is preferable: the penitent or the perfectly righteous person. This is of course an aggadic dispute, so there is no room here for talk of a halakhic ruling. But it seems to me that the standard view people repeat follows Rabbi Abbahu, who holds that the penitent is preferable. Maimonides writes similarly in Laws of Repentance 7:4:

A penitent should not imagine that he is far removed from the rank of the righteous because of the sins and transgressions he committed. This is not so. Rather, he is beloved and cherished before the Creator as though he had never sinned. Moreover, his reward is great, for he has tasted sin and separated himself from it and conquered his inclination. The Sages said: In the place where penitents stand, the wholly righteous cannot stand—that is, their level is greater than that of those who never sinned at all, because they master their inclination more than they do.

At first glance, this is puzzling. What could be greater than a perfectly righteous person? Seemingly, the purpose of repentance is to erase and repair sins and to reach the level of a perfectly righteous person who has not sinned. From that perspective, a penitent is like a perfectly righteous person, but cannot be above him.

The rationale Maimonides gives, that the penitent subdues his inclination more than the righteous person, is also not entirely convincing. A perfectly righteous person may be someone who struggles all his life, only he overcomes and does not sin. Why assume that a perfectly righteous person does not battle his inclination?! On the contrary, he battles so powerfully that he does not fail, whereas the penitent does not battle so powerfully and therefore does fail from time to time.

It seems to me that Rabbi Abbahu's statement has a more essential meaning. His claim is that the rank of the penitent is greater because the value of repentance lies not only in repairing the sin and reaching a state of complete righteousness. There is value in the very process of repentance, not only in the state to which it leads. The penitent reached the level of a perfectly righteous person, that is, the state to which the process of repentance is meant to bring us. But the penitent also underwent a process of repentance on the way, and in that he has an advantage over the perfectly righteous person. This means that the value of repentance is twofold: both in reaching a pure and clean state, and in the very undertaking of the process. Even had we not reached a better state, there would still be value in the very act of repenting.

The Meshekh Hokhmah on our portion (Vayelekh 31:17) discusses the dispute between Maimonides and Nachmanides over whether there is a commandment to repent, and wonders why such a commandment is needed at all. We are already commanded not to sin. Repentance for desecrating the Sabbath follows from the Torah's very definition of Sabbath desecration as a sin. Abandoning the sin follows from the very definition of the act as sinful, so why is a commandment of repentance needed:

And it says, “And he shall say on that day: Is it not because my God is not in my midst that these evils have found me,” etc. Many have struggled with this: why does repentance not help here? We should consider that repentance, as its name indicates, is regarded as a commandment—that one return from his folly and not sin again. But even without this commandment, he is already commanded and obligated not to violate the commandments of the blessed God! Would one really think that because he transgressed and repeated it, it has become permitted to him?! The original prohibition that restrained him from sinning before he sinned also restrains him from sinning after he has sinned. See the Sifrei at the end of Shelach on this [and so too our master wrote in his commentary to the Mishnah, Nazir chapter 6, in the mishnah about a nazirite who would drink much wine; see there for forceful remarks].

And he answers:

However, the commandment of repentance, for which a specific commandment is needed, is this: if one has sinned and abandons his sin, it is a commandment to confess and to declare before the blessed God that he knows within himself that he has sinned and seeks atonement. This is also the wording of our master in the Laws of Repentance: “When he repents and returns from his sin [that is, to avoid sinning because of the command by which he is forbidden to transgress from the first time, before he sinned—whether a positive commandment or a prohibition], he is obligated to confess before the blessed God, as it says, etc., ‘and they shall confess their sin.’” And the requirement that at that time he resolve not to return to his folly and not again transgress the command of God is included in the confession; see there. And the Sefer HaChinukh followed him and explained his words. But repentance itself should not be counted as a new commandment aside from the commands that were already given; and this is clear.

His claim is that the commandment really is not needed in order to abandon the sin. We are already commanded regarding that even without it. The commandment speaks of the act of repentance itself. If a person desecrated the Sabbath, the Torah prohibition obligates him to stop sinning, but it does not obligate him to regret, confess, and undertake a process of repentance. That is what the commandment of repentance requires of us.

In other words, erasing the sin is not the essence of repentance. That is a result, the pursuit of which follows necessarily from the very definition of the act as a sin. The essence of repentance is the process, the very act of repenting. Repentance has value not only as a means of reaching a whole and proper state; it has value in its own right.

He continues there and writes:

Yet there is an aspect of repentance that can arise only after one has already transgressed. This is as our master explained in chapter 4 of Shemoneh Perakim. Just as a sick person is healed by bitter things contrary to his nature, in order to restore his nature and temperament to the middle path after the extreme tendency has gained strength within him, so too one who has already sinned must conduct himself by inclining toward the opposite course. For example, one whose desire has overpowered him should abstain even from what is permitted, as the Sages said (Sanhedrin, chapter 4, halakhah 3) that David would adorn his concubines every day and say to his inclination: Behold, you desired what is forbidden to you; by your life, I will render even what is permitted repulsive to you. And consider the expression “by your life,” for the central intention is the middle path. One who castrates transgresses a prohibition, and one who refrains from marriage neglects a positive commandment, and also violates a prohibition if he has a wife: “He did not create it for chaos” (Isaiah 45:18). But once he has breached the boundary, he must heal himself by the opposite means, so that he may endure on the necessary path intended in creation by the blessed Creator—and this is his preservation; this is the meaning of “by your life,” and understand it. In this way it is called repentance: that he place the powers of his soul at the opposite extreme against what he did in his sin and in his transgression of the commandment. So too our master wrote at the beginning of the Laws of Character Traits.

Here he sees value in the process through which a person sins and repents, beyond merely reaching the perfected state.

I once saw someone explain that this is also the initial rationale behind the person who says I will sin and repent. ("I will sin and repent"), for he wants to attain the level of a penitent, and that cannot be reached without first sinning. In practice, of course, we are told not to do this deliberately, and if one does, he is not given sufficient opportunity to repent. But the reason such a thought can arise is that this really is a more complete condition.

Interestingly, later in that Yoma passage (86b) we find another exposition of these same verses from our haftarah:

Reish Lakish said: Great is repentance, for deliberate sins are accounted to him as unwitting ones, as it is said: “Return, O Israel, to the Lord your God, for you have stumbled in your iniquity.” Now iniquity is a deliberate sin, yet Scripture calls it a stumbling block. Is that so? But didn’t Reish Lakish say: Great is repentance, for deliberate sins are accounted to him as merits, as it is said: “And when the wicked turns from his wickedness and does justice and righteousness, because of them he shall live”? This is not difficult: here it is from love, there it is from fear.

We see that repentance out of fear turns intentional sins into inadvertent ones, and repentance out of love turns them into merits. But there is no process of repentance that erases what was done. The path we have traveled accompanies us until the end of our days and is never effaced in any way. Repentance does not erase the sin; it merely colors it in different shades (inadvertence or merit). The process of repentance remains with us even when we have reached its goal. It is not a ladder that one uses and then throws away, for the process itself also has value.[1]

On Process and State Changes

In my article on Zeno's Arrow and Modern Physics I discussed the distinction between a process and state changes. The example I gave was the definition of velocity. We are used to thinking that velocity is defined by a difference quotient (difference in place divided by difference in time). From this it seems obvious to us that a body has no velocity at a single instant of time ("a bare instant"), but only over an interval, even if very small. Yet this conception gives rise to the paradox of the arrow in flight.

Zeno of Elea was a Greek philosopher who tried to undermine the concept of motion and see it as a fiction. In that context he presented several paradoxes intended to show that the concept of motion contains contradictions, and one of them is called "the paradox of the arrow in flight".[2] Zeno argued that if one looks at an arrow in flight, then at every moment one observes it, it is standing in a different place. If so, it is unclear when it moves. How and when does it pass between places? It is commonly thought that solving the paradox requires differential calculus, but in my article I argued that this is not so. The root of the problem is a conceptual confusion (which of course is connected to differential calculus) between "standing" and "being located". Zeno erred when he said that at every moment the arrow stands in a different place. More accurately, one should say that at every moment it is located in a different place. To stand in a place means to be there at velocity 0. But one can also be in some place with a non-zero velocity. Therefore the answer to the question of when the arrow moves is: at the very moment it is in some place, it is also moving.

I argued there that Zeno's mistake stems from a mistaken understanding of the concept of velocity. He identifies it with change of place, but that is not so. Velocity is a potential for change of place. Change of place is a result of the fact that a body has velocity, and indeed it is possible to define a body's instantaneous velocity. A body has a velocity at every specific instant, and at every instant that velocity is different. By contrast, change of place obviously exists only over an interval of time and not at a single instant. That is why Zeno was unwilling to recognize velocity at a single instant, and when the body is at some place at some moment, he therefore thought it was necessarily not moving then.

In my article I explained that this mistake stems from a mistaken conception of dynamics in general, according to which processes are nothing but state changes. But that is not so. The process is defined in its own right. It is a potential for a state change, but the state change is only a result of the fact that there is an underlying dynamic. The reason for this mistake is that we are possessed of a 'state-oriented' rather than 'process-oriented' conception, and therefore for us the definition of a process (such as velocity) goes by way of state changes (what I called above a 'difference-based definition').[3] So too with repentance. The process of repentance exists over and above the fact that our spiritual state changes. The change in spiritual state is a result of the fact that we are within a dynamic of repentance. As we saw, the value of repentance is also twofold: both in that it leads to an improved spiritual condition, and in the very process through which one advances toward that improved condition. The change of state is important, and so is the process that underlies it.

Perfection and Self-Perfecting

Rav Kook, in Orot HaKodesh II (p. 531), section 14, defines self-perfecting as a kind of perfection:

The slowness in the order of reality, the limitation in nature, its external sluggishness, the constriction in spiritual ascents, the temporariness of miracles—all these uphold the foundation of unceasing exaltation., for it is the inner foundation of reality: that it has a limit within its limit, such that the descent of the manifestation of worldly existence—even to its lowest depth and its darkest darkness—will suffice for an eternal ascent, without any interruption. And every slow period prepares strength for a more rapid period in its ascent, until the highest speed. “He leads us with maidens,” with swiftness, like those hidden things. “Running and returning like the appearance of lightning.” And forever the manifestation of exaltation will not cease, nor the increase of the light, delight, and life that grow ever more fragrant and become filled always with ever greater and loftier worth,until the form of complete perfection and the form of unceasing perfectibility, which comes because of the prior deficiency, become equal together.And the mere remembrance of the deficiency of the past will suffice to provide a constant push toward ever-increasing perfection. Thus the form of unceasing perfectibility will rise above complete perfection. “A woman of valor is her husband’s crown,” and “the righteous sit with their crowns on their heads and delight in the radiance of the Divine Presence,” which continually intensifies, ascent upon ascent, without end or limit. Blessed is the Lord forever, amen and amen, and blessed be His name forever and for all eternity. And all the sparks of life, all the souls, spirits, and living beings, and all the flashes of life in all existence—they are all united with the foundation of unceasing perfectibility.…

The ascent, that is, the process of self-perfecting, is itself a kind of perfection. The primordial lack (= the sin that preceded the process of repentance) is part of the perfection created by the process of self-perfecting. The intentional sins of the past take part in the perfection of the penitent. This is also his advantage over the perfectly righteous person: the former is also in a process of self-perfecting, whereas the latter is merely perfect. The righteous person is in the perfected state, but he does not have the process of self-perfecting.

"Service as a Divine Need"

Further on there (sections 15-18), Rav Kook raises a theological question and offers a fascinating answer:

15.The entire aim of existence, on account of the hidden infinite will, is—as it is revealed to us—a great design of exaltation and eternal increase. For if there were no reality of smallness and deficiency, there could be only greatness and fullness, but not growth, not a continual stepping toward additional blessing. And although there is no end to the elevation of full perfection—which, in its infinity, has no elevation from its own side—nevertheless this exalted power of continual ascent is also included within it. And this is considered as though absolute perfection is perfected through the process of perfection, which comes through the appearance of smallness developing into greatness. And this labor is a need on high..

16.What do we think about the matter of the divine purpose in bringing existence into being? We say that absolute perfection is indeed the necessary existent, and in it there is nothing merely potential, for everything is actual. But there is also a perfection of adding perfection, and this cannot exist in divinity, since absolute infinite perfection leaves no room for addition. Therefore, for this goal—that the addition of perfection should also not be absent from existence—worldly existence had to come into being, and accordingly to begin from the very lowest depth, that is, from a state of absolute deficiency, and to proceed always upward toward absolute elevation. Existence was created with such a character that it will never cease to ascend, for this is an infinite process. And in order to secure ascent within the very essence of existence, it was all created with a supreme elevation, and that elevation exceeded the measure that a limited content can hold in actuality, even though it can hold it potentially. Therefore, when existence appeared in actuality, things became corrupted, and the forces became entangled with one another, and they are engaged in fierce struggle, until the absolute infinite thought of the good prevails and everything is rectified, together with the added elevation of making room for the completion of unceasing ascent. This is a unique Eden, through which creation completes the glory of its Creator..

17. In absolute divine perfection we understand two values of perfection. One value of perfection is such that, because of its greatness and completeness, no addition of excellence applies to it. But if there were no possibility of addition, that itself would be a deficiency. For perfection that continually increases contains an advantage, a delight, and a kind of elevation for which we long so greatly—going from strength to strength. Therefore divine perfection cannot lack this advantage of added power. For this reason there is in divinity the capacity for creation, the unbounded worldly becoming that in all its dimensions proceeds and rises. Thus the divine soul inherent in existence, which gives it life, is its constant elevation, and that itself is its divine foundation., which calls it to be found and to be perfected....

18. The union of blessing and holiness. In the light of the Infinite there is, in itself, no place for increase or ascent. But in truth, it is impossible that the advantage of eternal ascent be absent from absolute perfection. This is the teaching of being: manifestations of lights of existential life through an imprint of descent, in such a measure that there will always be the possibility of addition and ascent, which in its very essence removes every descent and lowness. And the separations in the worlds will be united together in their single source of unity, and the unification will add light and advantage without interruption—constant blessing. And the content of blessing is ascent, and separation from all inferiority and wickedness, from all darkness and constriction: holiness..

God is perfect, and as such He cannot perfect Himself. But then He lacks the perfection of self-perfecting, and it follows that in a certain sense He is not perfect.[4] Rav Kook writes that nevertheless the potential for self-perfecting is included in divinity, even if not the actual process. But he adds the assumption that every perfection must also come to realization, otherwise something is lacking in it.[5] And the explanation he offers is that this is why we, the deficient ones, were created: so that through us divinity can undergo self-perfecting ("to go from smallness to greatness," in his language). This is what in several places is called "the secret of service as a divine need",[6] namely, that our service is God's need. He needs us, and therefore He created us. Without us He cannot undergo self-perfecting, and then He is lacking. His perfection is achieved only with our creation and with our self-perfecting. The Ari applied to this the verse Ascribe strength to God., and several medieval authorities (Rishonim) spoke of it in various places, usually by way of hints and concealment.

Now we can return and read the first verse of the haftarah from a different perspective:

Return, O Israel, to the Lord your God, for you have stumbled through your iniquity.

The word ki is not only the reason that we must return, but primarily the condition that makes repentance relevant to us. Because we have stumbled, that is precisely what enables us to repent, and only the perfection found in self-perfecting can bring us back up to God, or up to the Throne of Glory. That perfection is possible only because we have stumbled, that is, because we sinned and returned. In light of Rav Kook's words, one can say more than that: this very process of sin and repentance is the purpose of our creation. It is not an accidental failure, a mishap because we sinned. We were created deficient so that we would sin, repent, and perfect ourselves, and this process of self-perfecting is a divine need; it is the perfection of God Himself. This is also why the path of self-perfecting is infinite ('up to the Lord,' but not including Him), since one cannot limit self-perfecting unless one is actually in the perfect state itself (which, from our perspective, is probably only a utopia).

This may be the reason that later in the haftarah the relation between us and God is defined as follows:

Who is wise, that he may understand these things, discerning, that he may know them? For the ways of the Lord are upright; the righteous walk in them, but transgressors stumble in them.

We walk in God's ways, meaning that our walking is His way. The righteous perfect themselves and the wicked deteriorate, but the very fact that we are walking those paths is the justification for our existence. In that sense, these are 'the ways of the Lord': the paths on which we walk perfect Him; they are His paths.

When the Sages say that repentance preceded the world, perhaps this is what they mean. The purpose of the world is repentance, for repentance is our self-perfecting, for the sake of which we and the world were created.

The Portion "Vayelekh"

As noted, these ideas connected themselves in my mind associatively with this week's Torah portion ("Vayelekh"), and I hope I will be forgiven for the Hasidic homily. The portion of Vayelekh begins in a strange way (Prof. Yuval Sinai noted this in this week's Shabbat supplement of Makor Rishon):

And Moses went and spoke these words to all Israel.

It is not clear here where he went.

Immediately afterward the content of his words appears:

And he said to them: I am one hundred and twenty years old today; I can no longer go out and come in, and the Lord has said to me: You shall not cross this Jordan.

Moses is old and can no longer walk ("go out and come in"). God tells him that our task is to walk on His behalf, and therefore if a person can no longer walk, he has apparently finished his task and must move aside. That is why Moses will not cross the Jordan. So who will walk?

The Lord your God is the one who goes before you; He will destroy these nations from before you, and you shall dispossess them. Joshua is the one who goes before you, as the Lord has spoken.

So is God Himself passing before us, or Joshua? We have seen that God does not walk by Himself, for we walk on His behalf. So if Moses can no longer walk, now God walks before us by means of Joshua. In place of Moses, who can no longer go out and come in, Joshua is chosen to go before us in God's name; that is, God walks through him.

That is why at the beginning of the portion too, "And Moses went" is not a walk to some particular place. Moses is defined as one who walks, and therefore once he can no longer do so, he resigns his role. His final walk is to tell the children of Israel that he is stopping his walking. From the moment he says those words, Joshua begins to walk in his place.

Let me conclude with two remarks.

The "Nora Alilah" Mode of Providence

From the picture I have described here, it emerges that sin is a built-in need of creation. How can that be reconciled with our task not to sin? Does this remove guilt and responsibility from us? Is it God who committed the sin and not we?

I think there is no contradiction between these things. God created us deficient, that is, with the potential to sin. According to the law of large numbers, it is also clear that we will sin (in fact, even without the law of large numbers: There is no righteous person on earth who does good and never sins.). Our task is of course not to sin, for we must strive toward perfection. We saw that because of this there arose an initial thought of sinning and then repenting, but as noted, the Torah does not recommend this path to us. Do not worry: we will sin even without turning this into an ideology. But beyond the attempt to prevent sin (which will necessarily fail), our task is to repair those sins. This is our self-perfecting, which perfects God Himself. Repentance as self-perfecting and ascent from sin to the straight path is the purpose of creation.

There is an interesting midrash that expresses this idea (Tanhuma, Vayeshev 4):

[39:1] “And Joseph was brought down to Egypt” — this is what Scripture says: “Come and behold the works of God; He is awesome in His dealings with human beings” (Psalms 66). Rabbi Yehoshua ben Korcha said: Even the fearful things that You bring upon us, You bring by a pretext. Come and see: when the Holy One, blessed be He, created the world, on the first day He created the Angel of Death. From where? Rabbi Berekhiah said, because it is stated, “And darkness was upon the face of the deep” (Genesis 1)—this is the Angel of Death, who darkens the faces of creatures. And Adam was created on the sixth day, and the pretext was pinned on him that he brought death into the world, as it is said: “For on the day you eat from it, you shall surely die.” To what may this be compared? To one who sought to divorce his wife. When he was about to go home, he wrote a bill of divorce. He entered his house with the bill of divorce in his hand, seeking a pretext to give it to her. He said to her, “Mix me a cup that I may drink.” She mixed it for him. As soon as he took the cup from her hand, he said to her, “Here is your bill of divorce.” She said to him, “What is my offense?” He said to her, “Leave my house, for you mixed me a lukewarm cup.” She said to him, “You already knew that I was destined to mix you a lukewarm cup, for you had written the bill of divorce and brought it in your hand!” So too Adam said before the Holy One, blessed be He: Master of the universe, before You created Your world, for two thousand years the Torah was with You as Your treasure, as it is written, “And I was with Him as a confidante, and I was His delight day by day” (Proverbs 8). Two thousand years. And it is written in it, “This is the law: when a person dies in a tent” (Numbers 19). Had You not prepared death for creatures, would You have written this in it? Rather, You came to pin this pretext on me. Thus, “He is awesome in His dealings with human beings.” And so too you find that the Holy One, blessed be He, said to Moses, “If any man of these men, this evil generation, shall see the good land,” etc. (Deuteronomy 1). “Man” — this is Moses, as it is written, “And the man Moses was very humble” (Numbers 12): the distinguished man among men…

The Leshem calls what is described here the "nora alilah" mode of providence. God in effect planned Adam's sin in advance, and afterward He punishes him for it. And as noted, there is no contradiction here. Sin is built into creation, and God needs it in order to undergo self-perfecting through us. But our task is not to sin, and therefore when we sin we will be punished.

Jonah's A Fortiori Argument

The Book of Jonah, which is read as the haftarah at the Yom Kippur afternoon service, ends with the story of the gourd:

And Jonah went out of the city and sat east of the city, and there he made himself a booth and sat under it in the shade, until he might see what would become of the city. And the Lord God appointed a kikayon plant, and it grew up over Jonah to provide shade over his head, to save him from his discomfort; and Jonah rejoiced over the kikayon with great joy. And God appointed a worm at the break of dawn the next day, and it struck the kikayon so that it withered. And when the sun rose, God appointed a scorching east wind, and the sun beat down on Jonah’s head, and he grew faint; and he asked for his life to die, and said: Better is my death than my life. And God said to Jonah: Are you so deeply grieved over the kikayon? And he said: I am deeply grieved, even unto death. And the Lord said: You pitied the kikayon, for which you did not labor and which you did not grow, which came into being in a night and perished in a night. And shall I not pity Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than one hundred and twenty thousand persons who do not know their right hand from their left, and many beasts as well?

The a fortiori argument that God presents to Jonah is very puzzling: Jonah pitied the gourd, in which he had not labored and which he did not grow, and therefore God certainly ought to pity Nineveh, a city full of people that He created. This is a very odd a fortiori argument, for Jonah did not pity the gourd at all; he pitied himself. He needed it to give him shade and protect him from the blazing sun, and so he was distressed that it dried up. What room is there for an a fortiori argument that compares this to God's relation to the people of Nineveh?

Years ago I told my students at the yeshiva in Yeruham that this can be answered in two opposite ways:

• Only our criminally minded way of thinking assumes that Jonah did not pity the gourd. The fact that he had an interest does not mean that, in addition to that, he did not truly have compassion for it. This connects to my column on altruistic acts (120). The fact that a person has an interest does not mean that he necessarily acts because of it, just as someone who enjoys Torah study does not necessarily study for the sake of enjoyment (see the introduction to Aglei Tal).
• Only our narrow human mindset assumes that Jonah needed the gourd, but God does not need Nineveh. God created Nineveh because He needs it. As we explained, His need is to undergo self-perfecting through it. Therefore precisely a city like Nineveh, a city of sinful people who will repent, is what God needs. Cities of perfectly righteous people would not justify creation. God already possesses perfection in Himself even without the world He created.

For our purposes, of course, the second way is the important one. Jonah, who did not want to go to Nineveh, assumed that God does not need us except as perfectly righteous people. From his perspective, our purpose as human beings is simply not to sin (to be perfectly righteous people). And from this it follows that if we have sinned, it would make sense to destroy us, because we are superfluous. God teaches him that this is a fundamental mistake. Just as Jonah himself needed the gourd, so God needs us. And not only does He need us, He specifically needs us as sinners who return in repentance. Precisely people like the inhabitants of Nineveh, who sinned and repented (as became clear in the end), are the very purpose of creation. If they do not repent, the whole matter has no point. Repentance is a grace beyond the letter of the law for us, but for God it is required by the strict law itself. That was the central purpose of the creation of the world from the outset.

And this is the well-known midrash in the Jerusalem Talmud, Makkot ch. 2:

They asked Wisdom, “What is the punishment of a sinner?” She said to them: “Evil pursues sinners” (Proverbs 13:21). They asked Prophecy, “What is the punishment of a sinner?” She said to them: “The soul that sins, it shall die” (Ezekiel 18:4). They asked the Holy One, blessed be He, “What is the punishment of a sinner?” He said to them: “Let him repent, and he will be forgiven.” This is what is written: “Therefore He instructs sinners in the way”—He shows sinners the way to repent.

Wisdom and prophecy do not understand the purpose of creation. Just like Jonah, they too think that its purpose is that there be no sinners (that there be only perfectly righteous people). But for a world without sins, it would have been preferable not to create it at all, and then everything would be perfect. God teaches them the "secret of service as a divine need", namely that the purpose of creation is repentance from sin, because in that way He Himself undergoes self-perfecting. Without the world, He would lack the value of self-perfecting, and our service is His need. And perhaps it is no accident that they derived this from the verse He instructs sinners in the way.. The purpose of creation is walking in God's ways, that is, the self-perfecting of sinners out of their sins.

May we all be sealed for good.

[1] This can be compared to what in physics is called a "non-conservative force." Forces such as gravity have the property that movement from one place to another does not depend on the path by which we did so. The amount of work required to reach the new place is the difference in potential energy between the new and old locations (the end of the route and its beginning), regardless of the path. Gravity is a conservative force. But there are non-conservative forces, in which the work is a function of the path (for example, frictional forces). For such forces one cannot define potential energy at all, since the energy difference between the starting and ending points depends on the path. In motion under a conservative force, once we have reached the endpoint, we can forget everything we went through. It is no longer relevant. But with a non-conservative force, even when we reach the endpoint, we still carry with us the entire route we traveled. It is not forgotten, and it still has significance now.

[2] See, for example, here and here.

[3] See there for an explanation I proposed, in light of this picture, of the uncertainty principle and the foundations of quantum theory (and to some extent also of relativity).

[4] At first glance this may seem a bit like scholastic hairsplitting, since one could say that indeed He cannot perfect Himself because He is perfect. That is a "deficiency" imposed on Him logically. Or, in another formulation: one cannot see perfection itself as a deficiency. Self-perfecting is an advantage only for one who is deficient. But according to both of these formulations, we are really assuming implicitly that the process has no value in its own right, but only as a means of reaching the perfect state. If the process has value in its own right, then that value must necessarily be present with God as well. And from another angle: if such a thing exists with us, then like everything that happens here, its root should exist with God too.

[5] This is somewhat reminiscent of Anselm's assumption that an existing idea is greater than a merely theoretical idea. See the first notebook.

[6] The source is apparently Maharam Gabai's introduction to his book Avodat HaKodesh. See also Yosef Avivi's introduction to his article, "History as a Divine Need".