Jewish wisdom teaches the art of forgiveness
AMY HIRSHBERG LEDERMAN
Special to the AJP
Have you ever wondered why it’s so hard to forgive someone who has hurt your feelings? Do you hesitate to say you’re sorry when you’ve hurt someone you love?
The act of forgiveness is a reciprocal process because it involves two people: the one who has done the injury and the one who has been injured. Whether we are asking for forgiveness or giving it to others, it is one of the first “morality” lessons we learn, because from the moment we begin to assert our autonomy, independence and free will, we will inevitably do things that hurt others.
Consider 2-year-old Sarah playing in the sandbox with her 3-year-old sister, Ellen. She hits Ellen and grabs her shovel. Mom scolds Sarah and tells her to say “I’m sorry” to Ellen. When she does, mom encourages Ellen to tell Sarah, “That’s okay.” And so begins the cycle of learning that when we hurt others, we must apologize for our mistakes and that when we are hurt, we should accept apologies graciously.
To be human is to be flawed. We err, act without thinking, and react out of anger, frustration and indifference. It is impossible to be in relationship with others and not hurt them at some point along the way.
For many of us it is not easy to forgive others, perhaps because we have difficulty forgiving ourselves. All too often, both parties feel that they are the injured person and that it is the other person who should apologize. Jewish tradition offers great wisdom and practical advice, however, to help us learn the art of forgiveness. Beginning with the biblical model of Divine forgiveness, we are taught a short but sweet lesson about the sins we commit against God. Simply stated, man sins and God forgives.
For God to forgive us, we must first take three corrective steps: acknowledge our wrongdoing, cease from doing it again and take action to do better in the future. That is the message of the High Holidays — the idea that God will forgive us when we engage in sincere teshuva, or repenting and returning to God. Our liturgy affirms this when we say together, as a community, prayers like the Unetanah Tokef (which contains the verses on who shall live and who shall die), acknowledging that we have all erred but that through repentance, sincere prayer and acts of charity, God’s decree and judgment will be tempered.
But what about the wrongs we commit against one another? For those, we must seek forgiveness, not from God, but directly from the person we have hurt. Jewish law mandates that if someone has hurt you and sincerely asks for your forgiveness, you must forgive him with a whole heart and a willing spirit. Because of the human tendency to hold on to our resentments, there is a special reward for one who freely forgives. The Talmud tells us: “For the person who overcomes his natural tendencies and instead forgives, all of his sins are forgiven.”
There are times, however, when we are too angry or too hurt to forgive, even when we are approached by the wrongdoer. In that case, we are counseled to tell the person seeking forgiveness the truth: that we aren’t ready yet but that he should come back, in a week or a month, and ask again. During that time, it is up to us to work on our anger and to try to overcome what is preventing us from granting forgiveness. After three sincere requests, if we continue to refuse to forgive, then the wrongdoer is regarded as forgiven and we are now treated as the wrongdoer.
There are exceptions, times when forgiveness is not required under Jewish law. For example, no one can forgive a crime committed against another person except the victim himself. Accordingly, murder, by definition, is an unforgivable act. In cases of slander or speaking lashon hara (gossip; literally “evil tongue”), where the damage is deemed irrevocable, forgiveness is not mandated although we are still encouraged to do so.
In American tort law, hurting other people or their property results in the payment of compensatory damages to “make them whole.” Jewish law also requires compensation for wrongdoing but goes a step further. Atonement is meant to make us whole in spirit because when we engage in the act of forgiveness, either as the person asking for it or the one granting it, we better understand the nature of being human and what it means to live with compassion.
Amy Hirshberg Lederman is an author, Jewish educator, public speaker and attorney who lives in Tucson. Her columns in the AJP have won awards from the American Jewish Press Association, the Arizona Newspapers Association and the Arizona Press Club for excellence in commentary. Visit her website at amyhirshberglederman.com.