“All neurotic manifestations are in fact incarnations of self-hate." –Dr. Theodore Rubin1

In his famous book Compassion and Self-Hate, Dr. Rubin argued—as the above quote suggests—that self-hate lies at the root of all nasty, destructive, and hateful behavior, including behavior directed at others. His pioneering work was, and still is, subject to much debate, making major waves in its time, including multiple screen adaptations.

It’s not hard to see why, as his basic premise strikes a deep chord. When we are honest enough to face our own inadequacies, it can be excruciating to deal with life, causing all types of destructive behavior.

Dr. Rubin’s suggestions of radical self-acceptance have proven quite popular. But what should we do when we don't think ourselves worthy of such love? What if you really did something terrible? Can you shake off shame and guilt and live an honorable life?

Cain’s Unanswered Plea

Parshat Bereshit has many important stories, not the least of which is the world’s first murder. Brothers Cain and Abel decided to offer a sacrifice to G‑d, and due to the cheapness of Cain’s offering, G‑d shunned it while He graciously accepted Abel’s.

Furious at this spurn, Cain murders his brother in cold blood. G‑d calls out and chastises him, eventually leading Cain to the realization that he just did something terrible.

Cain cries, “My sin is it too great to bear!” and proceeds to express his fear that everyone will try to kill him with his newfound reputation as a murderer. G‑d responds:

“Therefore, whoever kills Cain, vengeance will be wrought upon him sevenfold,” and G‑d placed a mark on Cain that no one who finds him slay him.2

Now, if the only thing Cain was worried about was saving his own skin, G‑d’s response makes sense. “Don’t worry, I got your back.” But that’s not everything Cain said; he said a few more important words, namely, “My sin is it too great to bear!”

If we take just a few seconds to think into these words, G‑d’s response seems to be sorely lacking.

Cain just realized that he made a grave, catastrophic mistake. A historic error the likes of which had never yet been committed. He had taken the life of another human, and his very own brother no less. Staring down the barrel of his own monstrousness, Cain threw his hands up in despair, “My sin is just too much to bear! How will I ever live with myself?”

This is a piercing, painful question.

How did G‑d answer? By simply telling him that no one would kill him. That may address Cain’s physical safety, but what of the remorse and the mental, emotional, and spiritual anguish Cain expressed?

This isn’t just a question about Cain. This is a question about me, you, and anyone else who ever made or makes mistakes—sometimes grave ones. How are we supposed to live with ourselves in the aftermath? What should we tell ourselves to still the cascade of guilt, shame, and horror after we do something terrible?

An Inner Holiness

The Chassidic masters shared a remarkable new reading of this verse that gifts us the answer. In Hebrew, the word for “sign” can also mean “letter”–a reference to the letters of the Torah. In this reading, G‑d gave Cain his personal letter in the Torah, fortifying his soul with an inner holiness that flows from the sanctity of Torah.

What was this “sign/letter” for? What was the point of giving Cain a strong bond to the sanctity of Torah?

To stand against any voices–external or internal–that would seek to deter Cain from his path of teshuvah. When the verse speaks of “all those who would find him,” the reference is to anything, say the Chassidic masters, that may get in the way of self-redemption through honest teshuvah.

There’s the answer Cain sought, and the answer for all of us, too: The truth of sin is indeed terrible, and it really is terrifying to live with. But G‑d promises us that if we’re honest and make amends, if we really set out on a path of teshuvah, He’ll help us live cleanly and peacefully with ourselves.

Don’t Let Your Past Hold You Hostage

Very often, the worst thing about doing something wrong isn’t so much the act itself, but the moment after the sin.

We’re so disgusted and horrified with ourselves, so terrified to honestly admit that, “Yes, I am the type of person who did such and such,” that we simply cannot bear it. In such cases, what usually happens is one of two things: We deny it internally, try to sweep it under the rug, and fake our way through life. Or we give in to the “bad guy” narrative and go full-on supervillain.

Obviously, neither of these are good options. But they are realistic, simply because facing our own mistakes is sometimes just too hard.

The deep truth revealed in this exchange between G‑d and Cain is that if it was up to us, it would indeed be too hard to face the truth of our own rap sheets, and we’d be up a creek without a paddle. But we’re not alone. Once we take the courageous step of teshuvah, G‑d steps in and helps us from getting bogged down by anything that gets in the way.

So if you’ve ever done something that you’re afraid to even tell your closest friend; if you’ve done something that horrifies you and makes you think that you’re a raging hypocrite and you don’t deserve nice things, and certainly have no right proceeding through life as if all’s well; if there something in your past that makes you think it’s never your place to claim any sort of moral, ethical, or religious ground because you’re just such a blazing faker, then this is for you:

You’re not worse than Cain. He murdered his own brother over a piece of flax! And yet, after expressing true remorse and setting out on his path of repair, he then turned to G‑d in a terrified voice and cried, “My sin is too much to bear!” To which G‑d responded: “Don’t worry. If you’re honest, if you’re serious about making amends and turning over a new leaf, I’ll chase away all those inner demons. I’ll make sure your past doesn’t hold you hostage.”

Your past won’t either. Make amends, do sincere teshuvah, and then go on and live a better life without ever looking back.3