The Jewish new year revolves around the idea of forgiveness.
We cast away our sins, usually in carb form into a body of water, and we ask
those who we have wronged to forgive us. It is our sacred duty to cleanse
ourselves, to forgive. But take a step back. Is it?
When you are obligated to forgive someone, do you really
forgive them? Or do you just mumble the apology, bow your head to the
appropriate degree of repentance, and move on? Even as kids, we’re told to
forgive someone when they apologize to us. But this is not forgiveness. This is
jumping to the end of the story, without reading the actual content.
I’d like to make it clear that no one is obligated to
forgive. That’s right. If someone has wronged you, you are under no social,
moral, or religious oath to forgive them. You can do, think, feel, or process
whatever you darn well please. That is your right as cognizant human being.
Forgiveness is like a loan that someone has given you. They’ve apologized, and
handed you this metaphorical paper, reading, “You can make me pay this debt
whenever you want. I owe you.” They have wronged you, so you can bring up this
debt, this loan, whenever you want. That is your right. Or you could simply
hand it back to them, and say, “thank you, but I don’t need this.” You can let
go.
If you truly want to forgive someone, don’t do it for them.
The other person is entirely irrelevant. Do you think they care that you
couldn’t accept their apology? Or that they did something and you couldn’t let
it go? For example, it’s hard to believe that my childhood bullies stay up at
night, clutching their pillows and hoping that I’ve forgiven them for their
unkindness. No, most people don’t need your forgiveness. So why forgive?
Forgive other people for your own benefit. Collecting all
those loans, harboring bitterness and self-righteousness, it’s exhausting. People
are unkind. Life is not just. How freeing it is to let go of the idea that the
world will not hurt you. Breathe into the feeling of dropping those burdens,
those preconceived notions of what is fair. Forgive others to do a service to
yourself, lighten your own load. You have the power to release so much pent-up
negative energy. Those stories you have swirling in your head of, “Oh, well
that one time, you did…” What’s the point?
Don’t forgive because the Rabbi tells you to, or because it
is written in our sacred texts. Don’t forgive to feel like some benevolent
force; “I’m so emotionally mature and kind that I’m going to let you off the
hook for all the bad things you’ve done.” That’s not kindness, that’s
punishment, for everyone involved. Know that you have zero obligation to
forgive others. And then, if this is the path you actively choose, let it all
go. Throw away the debt owed. Feel how freeing it is to forgive according to
your own will. Everyone is trying their best. Everyone wants to love and feel
loved. How breathtaking the human spirit is! Flawed and miraculous. Apples and honey
cannot possibly compare to the sweetness of fully and authentically forgiving
someone. Of giving up a place of anger or fake piety in your heart, and filling
it with unconditional love. It’s not easy. But we’ve got the rest of our lives
to start trying.
Shanah Tovah, may your new year be filled with sweetness,
love, and the relief of true forgiveness.
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