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 Continued on Page L-2