Shabbat Parah
Exodus 30:11-34:35
Numbers 19:1-22
Ezekiel 36:16-38
by Rabbi Amy Eilberg
We Jews have such trouble with the notion of forgiveness. We tell ourselves (amazingly!) that forgiveness is not a Jewish practice. We think that forgiveness means that the wrong done is forgotten, and we know that this is unacceptable. We fear that forgiveness means acceding to injustice or hatred. We fail to understand that forgiveness is a process, not a discrete result. Or we simply don’t know where to begin.
This week’s parashah brings us our people’s central story of sin and forgiveness. Impatient and frightened by his long absence when Moshe ascends the mountain to receive the Torah, the people commit the ultimate sin of idolatry: They build a calf and worship it. A terrible punishment ensues and then a remarkably intimate encounter between Moshe and God.
In the wake of this extraordinary meeting, God is ready to forgive. What follows are words of forgiveness so powerful and evocative that the Rabbis chose this passage as a chorus, which we repeat throughout the High Holy Day liturgy: “God! God! A God compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in kindness and faithfulness, extending kindness to the thousandth generation, forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin… ” (Exodus 34:6-7). We recite these words again and again on Yom Kippur, trusting that their power will open the heart of God and that we will be forgiven.
Our tradition is rich with images of a forgiving God. And we know that the Torah teaches that we are created in the image of God. Yet we often forget that we are called to be forgiving in our own lives, just as we are commanded to be compassionate people, partners with the Divine and pursuers of peace and justice.
I recently encountered the most helpful approach to cultivating forgiveness that I have ever seen. The following steps, adapted from “Practicing our Faith,” edited by Dorothy C. Bass, presume that forgiveness for a wrong done (1) always includes more than one party, (2) always takes time, (3) is difficult and holy work. What do we do to move toward forgiveness when a wrong has been done?
“We become willing to speak truthfully and patiently about the conflicts that have arisen.” If we want to be forgiven or relieved of the burden of our own resentment, we have no choice but to begin a process of patient and honest communication.
“We acknowledge both the existence of anger and bitterness and a desire to overcome them.” If we want to lighten the load of anger and estrangement, we must go beyond our comfortably self-righteous repetition of our side of the story. We must be willing to admit to our emotions and also to acknowledge that we would like to move beyond recrimination and conflict.
“We summon up a concern for the well-being of the other as a child of God.” In order to forgive, or to let forgiveness in, we must dare to move beyond the habit of seeing the other only as the wrongdoer, the enemy or the other. We must dare to see the other party as created in the image of God, just like us.
“We recognize our own complicity in conflict, remember that we have been forgiven in the past, and take the step of repentance.” Surely, there are cases of unambiguous, unilateral evil. But far more often than we care to admit, there are two sides to the story of hurt, two participants in the conflict. If we truly want peace, we must question our comfortable desire to blame the other and remind ourselves that teshuvah is possible — for the other, and for us.
“We make a commitment to struggle to change whatever caused and continues to perpetuate our conflicts.” One cannot magically forgive then continue to blame and hate. The process of forgiveness requires humility, empathy, ongoing commitment and great patience. Forgiveness, in this sense, like peacemaking, is a way of life, not a single event.
“We confess our yearning for the possibility of reconciliation.” Sometimes this is the hardest step of all. Admitting to this yearning, even within ourselves, reminds us of our own vulnerability, our lack of control over the people and circumstances of our lives. Yet without letting ourselves know that we deeply desire the end of conflict, we may stay mired in old hate, resentment and recrimination.
May the powerful story of reconciliation in the parashah inspire us to reconsider the work of forgiveness that stands before us in our own lives. And may God be with us in our efforts.