Reciting the divine attributes until they shape who we are
The thirteen attributes of compassion. Divine compassion, that is. A list of qualities that, our Torah says, express God’s true essence.
The thirteen attributes—middot— of compassion. Divine compassion, that is. A list of qualities that, our Torah says, express God’s true essence.
On Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, we recite the thirteen middot twenty-one times. Why? Perhaps because the Talmud says, whenever people sin, “let them act before me in accordance with this order, and I will forgive them” (Rosh Hashanah 17b, Steinsaltz translation).
What’s the origin of the thirteen middot of compassion? What do our Talmudic sages think they mean? How will reciting them lead to action? How will that action lead to forgiveness?
Moses says to God, “If you are going to lead us through the wilderness, we need to know who you really are.” God says, “no one can see panai (my face or my interior) and live.” But, “I will pass all my goodness before you” and “you will see achorai (my back or aftereffects).”
And then someone—the Torah isn’t clear if it’s Moses or God—someone calls out the words we now know as the thirteen middot of compassion.
Does God literally mean, if you see my face, you will die, so I’ll just show you my back? Probably not. Because the Torah also says that God did know Moses face to face. More likely, God means: no one can see my inner essence and stay the same. Once you know the essence, the aftereffects will change you.
That’s why our Talmud, the great Jewish book of law and lore from the sixth century, says: if you want to activate divine compassion, you simply need to recite the thirteen middot.
What does the Talmud mean?
Recite the thirteen middot to learn them. Recite them to memorize them. Recite them to contemplate their meaning. Recite them to internalize them, until the qualities of compassion show up in you, to shape the very ways you think and feel.
Until you yourself are a channel for divine compassion.
Recite them until you become like Adonai, Adonai, the Ineffable, Infinite, Eternal One, who is with us before we do harm and still with us after we do harm.
Recite them until you become like El, short for Elohim, a Biblical name for the Creator, who extends compassion to every living creature.
Recite them until you become Rachum v’ Chanun, compassionate toward those who atone, and gracious towards those who don’t know how to.
Recite them until you become Erech Apayim, slow to anger, never losing hope that people can change for the better.
Recite until you are Rav Chesed… so full of love, you can share it with those who need it.
Recite them until you are full of Emet, truth, willing to kindly but clearly teach people about the consequences of their deeds.
Recite until you are Notzer Chesed La’alafim, shaper of love for the best people, here to support those who do good deeds.
Recite them until you are Noseh avon, va’fesha, v’chata’ah vinakeh— aware of sin, and yet still here to help people who deliberately avoid what they know is good, people who purposely harm others, people who genuinely make mistakes, and people who do an earnest teshuvah—an earnest process of repentance, repair, and return.
And, gradually, you will learn to see what is true. Name it with kindness. Gently push it towards change.
Not just for others—but for yourself, too. So that your own teshuvah becomes a daily habit. An attitude, a skill, an opportunity. An inner space of witness and love and patience and truth. One in which you no longer ask God to forgive you in exchange for the right words or deeds. But one in which Spirit is there, doing the work alongside you.
Photograph of Doumac Park, Saanich, BC, Canada.
