F
1110 THE JEWISH NEWS
A Toast
To Jewish Living
Forgiveness: An Essential Part Of Our Character
By RABBI DANIEL POLISH
Rabbi Daniel Polish is senior
rabbi of Temple Beth El and the
author of this month's 'To Our
Readers.' For each issue of
L'Chayim, a rabbi, a Jewish
educator or other notable will
present an overview of the month's
theme.
Have you ever poured too much
liquid into a glass? Sometimes it
goes to the very top and then,
somehow, a little beyond the top,
too. You know it should spill over
the side. In fact, in your mind there
is a very graphic image of that
liquid pouring all over the table. But
somehow, it does not overflow the
glass at all. It forms a little dome at
top of the glass. It stays there.
There could have been a terrible
mess. But there wasn't.
Or, maybe, you were packing a
suitcase. You knew that you put a
little too much in. In your mind's
eye you have visions of the suitcase
not closing at all (in fact, in the
more dire vision that our minds can
conjure up, the latches will break
under the pressure of the added
burden). But the latches don't
break. And the suitcase closes and
somehow accommodates the extra
contents.
In the world of mechanics
("how things work") there is a
name for this — when the glass
should overflow but doesn't, when
the suitcase shouldn't close, but
does. The name is "forgiveness."
Forgiveness seems built into
the world of nature. It is just one of
the facts of our physical
environment. We aren't entitled to
expect these things to occur, but
they do.
When we Jews look at the laws
that govern the world, we find
forgiveness there, too. We Jews are
not inclined to think so much of
nature, but of the God who rules
nature. And as we understand God,
He, too, has forgiveness as an
essential part of his character.
In the Torah, time and again
the Jewish people incense
God and provoke Him to powerful
anger. Moses is moved to plead
with God to forgive His people. And
God forgives. In one of the majestic
encounters in the Torah which we
have incorporated into our liturgy,
God is described as "merciful and
compassionate, forgiving iniquity,
transgression and sin ..." (Ex:34:6)
God has it as part of His very Self
to want to forgive the shortcomings
of His people.
And, at this time of year, we are
especially sensitive to that. The
liturgies of Yamin Nora'im are built
on the underlying belief that God
can forgive, does forgive, and will
forgive us when we fall short.
Our words and our actions
during these days, are bequeathed
to us by our tradition as a way of
focusing our hearts on our need to
repent, and assuring us that if we
truly repent with a whole heart, God
will forgive. The Book of Jonah
which we read on Yom Kippur
afternoon, is a story of God's
forgiving. God forgives the people of
Ninevah for their many
wickednesses. And God, in the end,
forgives Jonah for his foolishness in
trying to evade God's Will, and for
his small-mindedness in wishing evil
on the citizens of that great city.
God forgives. And if we atone
properly, we are assured, God will
forgive us.
And we human beings are
created in the image of God. We
are admonished to make God's
character and God's action the
model for our own lives. We are
called on to imitate God in all of our
dealings. So if God forgives us, it is
certainly the God-like thing for us to
forgive those who may wrong us.
As we look at the task of these
days of awe — atonement and
forgiveness — we might imagine
that the hard part is to atone. After
all we are called on to examine our
lives, find our failings and
shortcomings, and admit them to
ourselves and to God. But often, far
harder than atoning, is granting
forgiveness to those who have
wronged us. And so our tradition
enjoins us when someone sincerely
and honestly asks for our
forgiveness, we are required to
forgive them. Just as we hope God
will forgive us when we call on Him,
so are we told to forgive those who
call on us.
And we are wronged every day,
often by those closest to us. The
people whom we love often take us
for granted. Or they are
inconsiderate. Or they, at times, are
cruel to us, perhaps inadvertently,
perhaps driven by who knows what
impulses. They have a way of
hurting us. Our family can cause us
great pain, pain that we carry
around for long periods of time. Our
friends can upset us deeply, and
cause us great grief. So can the
people we work closest to. All of
these near ones are able to wound
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