“When a corpse is found … and it is not known who killed it.” (Devarim 21:1)

 The obligation to bring an eglah arufah which applies only when the identity of the murderer isn’t known begs further explanation. Logically if we’re obligated to bring it when the murderer is not known then certainly we should bring it when it’s known that the murderer was a Jew.

However when it’s known who committed the act of murder no Jewish person (other than the murderer himself of course) is in need of atonement. Why is this? After all innocent Jewish blood was spilled; how is the sin expunged by the fact that we know who committed the murder? (Rav Yehuda Leib Chasman Ohr Yahel).

Elul is here.

Something childish within me wishes to burrow deep within the blanket of everyday life not to know hear or see — just to think about 1 000 other things vying for my attention: the end of summer vacation and the beginning of the school year the initial preparations for the Yamim Tovim and the end of the season in stores. All those thoughts will help me forget the other thoughts pounding within my heart.

“Something” promises me that if I stay under that blanket everything will be all right. Elul will pass by the Yamim Tovim will pass by — even Yom Kippur. But I’m familiar with that “something.” When I was a child and hadn’t done my homework whenever the teacher asked who hadn’t done their assignment I was suddenly very preoccupied by my backpack my pencil case or the view outside. Everything but the teacher’s penetrating gaze.

If I was unlucky enough to be called on I’d take my notebook in hand with an air of confidence read the question in an important-sounding tone and then recite the answer from memory. If I didn’t reveal I hadn’t done the assignment no one would know. And I’d still be considered an excellent pupil.

That’s why I’m afraid of Elul coming.

Suddenly I have to admit every mistake every action which instead of bringing me close to Hashem moved me further away.

Doesn’t it make my sins worse when I admit them? When I revisit all those negative memories aren’t I destroying — with my own hands — the image of a good well-meaning woman who tries her best?

No the opposite is true.

This can be explained by what the Navi says: “Behold I am judging you for the fact that you said ‘I did not sin.’$$$separate quotes” We learn from this that if not for the claim that there was no sin there would not be a judgment. But is the judgment only on the fact that they made that claim? And if they did sin then where is the judgment for that?

When a person declares “I have sinned” he atones for his sin and Hashem removes His judgment from that person. This teaches us that the essence of atonement is the recognition of the sin since that recognition includes all three essential components of teshuvah: regret for the past a resolution for the future and confession. In contrast when a person says “I did not sin ” he strengthens the Divine wrath and he will be judged for that. 

Now I’m standing before Hashem and His gaze pierces my heart and soul. He sees all the things I’ve ever done knows everything in my heart. He’s familiar with the temptations facing a human being. All the blankets in the world can’t hide me from Him. No everyday matter not even 1 000 other responsibilities can conceal me from His gaze. .No matter how many times I say “I didn’t know” or “I forgot ” I am still standing before my Creator.

Am I trying to evade Hashem Himself? Am I pretending I can hide something from the Creator of all things? How could I possibly think I will simply continue with my daily routine when Hashem is waiting for me — waiting only for me?

Suddenly I realize I have already traveled most of the way and Hashem is carrying me with great mercy and love. I am on the path of return: back to all that is good and pure and back to myself. Back to the G-d within me.