Turns out, according to some fascinating Jewish traditions, even God feels that way sometimes!

This idea comes up in connection with Rosh Chodesh, the celebration of the new moon. You know, that tiny sliver of light that marks the beginning of each new month in the Jewish calendar. So, what’s the connection?

Well, there’s this mind-blowing myth that suggests God, in a sense, repents. It all goes back to the story of the sun and the moon. The Talmud, in Tractate Hullin 60a, tells us that originally, the moon was the same size as the sun. Imagine that! Two equally brilliant lights in the sky. But then, God decided to diminish the moon.

Why? The stories don’t always say explicitly, but the consequence is clear: the moon became smaller. And according to this tradition, God later regretted that decision. As we find in Numbers 28:14-15, during the time when the Temple in Jerusalem was standing, a goat was offered as a chatat, a sin offering, on every Rosh Chodesh. The verse reads: "This is the burnt offering of every new moon throughout the months of the year. And one he-goat for a sin offering to Yahweh shall be offered."

So, what was this goat for? According to this astonishing myth, it was to atone for God’s act of making the moon smaller! God Himself acknowledges a decision He regrets. And to atone for it, a sacrifice was offered on Rosh Chodesh, precisely when the moon is at its smallest.

Think about that for a moment. Rosh Chodesh, the day we celebrate the new moon, becomes a day when we, in a way, atone for God's "sin," or at least God's regret. The possibility of God reversing this decision is never considered in the text. Even stranger, it is incumbent on the Temple priests to atone for God's sin by offering a goat as a sin offering on Rosh Chodesh.

What does it all mean? It’s a radical idea, isn't it? We often think of repentance as something humans do. We mess up, we apologize, we try to do better. But this myth suggests a much more complex relationship with the Divine. It implies that even God is capable of regret.

And even more profoundly, it suggests that we, the Jewish people, have a role to play in helping God find atonement. It highlights the idea that Israel does not only repent for its own sins, but for the sins of God as well, for which God seeks atonement. It's a powerful reminder that we are partners with God in the ongoing work of creation and repair, or Zohar" target="_blank" rel="noopener" class="source-link">tikkun olam.

You can find more on the myth of the shrinking of the moon in Howard Schwartz's "Tree of Souls," specifically in the section called "The Quarrel of the Sun and the Moon." And if you want to explore other sacrificial traditions, you might find "A Scapegoat for Azazel" helpful, particularly its description of sacrificing a goat to Azazel on Yom Kippur.

So, the next time you see that sliver of a new moon, remember this story. Remember that even in the grand scheme of the cosmos, there's room for regret, for atonement, and for the ongoing partnership between humanity and the Divine. Maybe it's a reminder that none of us, not even God, is perfect. And maybe, just maybe, that's okay.