On , we recite the Al Chet prayer - a litany of confessions to God for the ways we have harmed ourselves, our loved ones, our communities, and our relationship to the Divine. While sitting in services earlier this month, I found myself returning to one line in particular: "for the sin which we have committed before You by hard-heartedness." I reflected on the times this past year when I failed to show empathy for the pain of others, and when cynicism, rather than love and care, guided my view of the world. Yet the purpose of Al Chet is not merely personal reflection. The prayer is written in the communal "we," not the individual "I," a deliberate choice that underscores our collective responsibility to act with kindness, justice, and mercy. Al Chet calls us to begin the process of (literally "return") by recognizing when society itself has hardened its heart, and by committing to do better.
With this in mind, it is time to recognize, repent, and do t'shuvah for America's hard-hearted approach to reintegrating formerly incarcerated individuals into society. After serving their sentences, many of the 650,000 people released each year from prison face overwhelming barriers to living stable, dignified lives. Restrictions on access to employment, housing, and social services, combined with the stigma of a criminal record, have devastating effects on millions of people and their families. Deprived of meaningful opportunities for work and denied access to public benefits, many are trapped in a cycle of poverty and recidivism that our laws and institutions have made nearly impossible to escape.
In Jewish tradition, t'shuvah requires working with the person who has sinned, supporting their process of repair and welcoming them back into the community. The United States' current model of reentry, however, does the opposite: it is hard-hearted. It rejects rather than restores, punishes rather than partners, and in doing so, denies both the individual and society the chance for true redemption. This construction and maintenance of barriers to reentry is both counterproductive and immoral. We must demand repentance.
One barrier in particular - the lifetime ban on receiving Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP, formerly food stamps) benefits - is especially problematic. Passed as part of the 1996 crime bill, the ban prohibits any individual convicted of a state or federal felony involving the possession, use or distribution of a controlled substance from receiving SNAP and other federally-funded benefits.Time and again, research has proven that welfare bans for formerly incarcerated individuals actually increases recidivism rates. For example, a study conducted in California, Connecticut, and Texas showed that individuals recently released from prison are more likely to experience food insecurity, which in turn is associated with the use of illicit substances, sex work, and other illegal activities that can lead to reimprisonment. Recognizing the ineffectiveness of welfare bans, many states have opted out or adopted modified versions of the federal ban. Unfortunately, some states still enforce a complete SNAP ban, and research suggests that there is no practical difference between full and modified bans. Today, the problem has grown more urgent. With the passage of major federal budget legislation in July 2025, states now face soaring SNAP costs, forcing difficult choices between raising taxes, cutting programs, or restricting benefits. In this climate, many states may reinstate bans on SNAP benefits for formerly incarcerated people in order to save money. We cannot accept such a hard-hearted political reality, and we must demand that the United States government honor the time served by incarcerated individuals and repeal the SNAP ban.
Ending the SNAP ban would be an act of repentance, but repentance is only complete when it leads to transformation. Our commitment to redemption must extend beyond one policy to a broader reimagining of how we welcome people home. That means not only restoring access to food, but also to housing, healthcare, education, and meaningful employment. Justice demands that we replace systems of exclusion with systems of restoration, affirming that every life has worth, and every person deserves a genuine chance to begin again. As our sages teach, "nothing shall stand in the way of repentance" (Mishneh Torah, Repentance 3).
In the opening weeks of this new year, we must take seriously the words we spoke on Yom Kippur: that we, as a society, will choose compassion over hard-heartedness. To begin this national t'shuvah, we must call on our elected officials to compel the repentance of the federal government by passing the Re-Entry Support Through Opportunities for Resources and Essentials (RESTORE) Act. The RESTORE Act would repeal the federal ban on SNAP benefits for individuals with prior drug convictions and invalidate any state law that restricts benefit access for those with prior convictions. But we must go further still. Our leaders must act with courage and pass comprehensive reentry legislation that repeals all welfare bans for convicted felons and guarantees every returning citizen access to the food, housing, and employment needed to rebuild their lives with dignity.
