SEPTEMBER 29 • 2022 | 33

The Art of Apologizing
First of all, you don’t have to apologize 
to everyone you know, so no need to 
run up your cell phone bill. You’re only 
required to ask for forgiveness from 
those you know you have hurt. Some 
halakhic authorities recommend that 
you apologize to all your friends before 
Yom Kippur, just in case you hurt some-
one unknowingly (Rema 606:2; Arukh 
Hashulhan, 4). Doing this via a mass 
email or Facebook message is halachi-
cally (according to Jewish law) permis-
sible.
If you know you’ve hurt someone, 
you absolutely should make an apology 
before Yom Kippur. You can do this in 
person, by phone, via email, Facebook, 
Skype or even telegram — whatever 
means you want, but it should be per-
sonal.
Everett L. Worthington Jr. of Virginia 
Commonwealth University, a psychol-
ogist who studies forgiveness, knows 
what makes a good and effective apolo-
gy. He has a handy acronym he uses to 
help people remember all the steps of a 
meaningful request for forgiveness:

C - Confess without excuse. Be specif-
ic about what you’re sorry for (“I’m sorry 
I forgot our anniversary.”). Do not offer 
any kind of excuse. Do not let the word 
“but” come out of your mouth.

O - Offer an apology that gets across 
the idea you’re sorry and that you don’t 
want to do it again. Be sincere and artic-
ulate.

N - Note the other person’s pain. 
Acknowledge that your actions were 
hurtful.

F - Forever value. Explain that you 
value your relationship and you want to 
restore it more than you want to hang 
onto your pride.

E - Equalize. Offer retribution. Ask how 
you can make it up to the person.

S - Say “never again.” Promise that 
you won’t do it again (and mean it).

S - Seek forgiveness. Ask the other 
person directly, “Can you forgive me?”
Worthington suggests thinking through 
all the steps of CONFESS before you 
approach the person to deliver your 

deservedly) damaged my reputation 
for many years. 
“
A mutual friend told me that I 
needed to write a note and apologize. 
I did so. I got a reply, which I held in 
my hands for a while before I got the 
courage to open it. She did not forgive 
me. Even now, 30 years later, I feel a 
wave of shame. I don’t blame her for 
not forgiving me. My shame is my 
continuing penance.”
Glogower shares another story: “I 
was hired for a (relatively) well-paid 
teaching position within the Detroit 
Jewish community in a pilot program. 
The woman who sought me out was 
someone I was friendly with. In those 
days, I was a little cockier than I am 
now, and I thought the program was 
going well. Apparently, the powers 
that be were not in agreement. I was 
fired by the woman who had sought 
me out and hired me. Worst of all, I 
got no explanation of what I had done 
wrong. 
“I suspect I had been caught up in a 
power struggle that had very little to 
do with my specific actions. But, even 

so, to be fired without explanation 
was frustrating beyond description. 
I was angry. Not only that, but our 
paths would cross from time to time 
and each time I would relive the fury 
and the humiliation. A few years later 
another friend suggested I write a 
note. I did and there was no response. 
Let it go.”
Glogower said a few years after she 
wrote the note, “I attended a bar mitz-
vah at the Conservative congregation 
here in town; of course, she was there 
and, of course, I avoided her. But 
when I stopped in the bathroom after 
Kiddush, there she was. (By the way, 
a lot of interactions take place in the 
women’s bathroom, don’t know if that 
happens in the men’s room). 
“We looked at one another. I froze. 
She looked me in the eye and opened 
her arms, saying “Over?” 
“Over,” I responded through some-
what gritted teeth, and we embraced. 
Not exactly an apology, not what I 
needed, but it was something. She 
died a few years later and I was glad 
we had that embrace.

OUR COMMUNITY
HIGH HOLIDAYS

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