Whether
from the pulpit at a church in our area, at the vigil for unity this past
Monday in Hackensack, from the pulpit at Emanuel AME in Charleston, and from
the families of the victims – we have heard expressions of forgiveness to the
alleged shooter Dylan Roof. We have
heard people pray for him and for his
family.
I am
curious how these sound to Jewish ears.
I personally feel ambivalent about them.
After centuries of blood libels, Crusades, expulsions, massacres, the
Holocaust and other violence against Jews whether by physical force or through
force of words, the idea that I would forgive someone who murdered my loved one
or that I would pray for that person or his family, would be as shocking and
inconceivable as forgiving or praying for an SS Commander or a Hamas terrorist.
We can read
forgiveness in this case, as in others – like the way Pope John Paul the 2nd
forgave and prayed for the family of Mehmet Ali Agca, as something different
from saying, “I absolve you of guilt”.
This is my read on it – I imagine the late Pope would debate me on this. A wise person once said, “All forgiveness is
self-forgiveness.” This to me is the
only acceptable form of forgiveness in such an egregious case. Jewish tradition teaches us not to bear
grudges, not to mistreat our enemy’s property, and not to hate a fellow human
being in our hearts. But ironically, it
is Moses himself who bears a grudge
against the people for the way God punishes him in this week’s parsha, the way
God prohibits him from crossing into the Promised Land. Moses both blames the nation for his
punishment and does not forgive them,
later he says, “God got angry with me because
of you and said ‘You will also not go there.’” He says that when at the time of the
punishment God clearly places the onus on him, and on Aaron, for their lack of faith!
Moses
blames others and holds a grudge.
Forgiving the alleged perpetrator of the Charleston Church shootings
does not suggest that the shooter not go through due process of law, rather,
that individuals, and the community as a whole, should not be burdened with
anger, frustration, and fall into inertia.
The Rabbis teach that anger is avodah
zarah, idol worship – in anger we grip our personal agenda and feelings so
tight that we are the center of the world, as opposed to God.
Interim
pastor Norvel Goff sees other grim possibilities of what could happen if anger
boils in the community – A lot of people expected us to do something strange and
to break out in a riot," said Goff "Well, they just don't know us. We
are people of faith."
People of faith, like Moses after his punishment, know that lying down
and turning the other cheek do not lead to justice, or to greater faith or
community building, and they also know that violence does not solve problems,
it only creates new ones. And this is
one way the Rabbis make sense of Moses’ punishment, if the people would see
Moses and Aaron just speak to the rock, and not hit it, they would say, “This
rock that cannot speak nor hear and does not require sustenance can fulfill
God’s word, so much the more so can we.”
Hitting the rock is, in this case, a violent act, despite the fact that
Moses once struck a rock for water with no adverse reaction.
On this Shabbat of solidarity with our African American brothers and
sisters, and brothers and sisters of all religions and colors of the rainbow,
we recognize how meaningful but how incredibly difficult it must be for the
families of victims to forgive themselves enough to let go of emotions that
might prevent them from living meaningful lives even as they mourn the loss of
loved ones, loved ones who are gone forever.
And let’s recommit ourselves to the unity, to the solidarity that is the
spirit of this, and really every
Shabbat – each Shabbat remembers creation, and the Torah teaches that the
entire world is a tree of life, a family that grows from common ancestors. Even in bucolic and generally peaceful Glen
Rock and other towns where we live, we can attend services at another house of
worship, meet the people, share in their joy and prayers. As Mark Gewirtz wrote in a recent piece, we
can ourselves and with our children and students, talk about our fears, explore
what are the invisible walls that separate us from others and begin to break
through them. Pastor Thomas Johnson in
his sermon this past Sunday said we should do this, the same way President
Reagen said to Premier Mikhael Gorbachev 28 years ago, “Tear down this wall!”
And although we always hope for unity without a crisis, people of faith
also know that our tradition and our community helps us to weather a crisis by
reminding us we are not alone, providing structure when the world feels like
it’s falling apart. Boston Marathon
bomber Dzokar Tzarnaev made an apology in court, and one of the victims, an
amputee named Rebekah Gregory said in this spirit, “Your intent was to destroy
America. You have actually unified
us.”
We cannot be satisfied with speaking unity, or singing it, we cannot be
comfortable with living near each other, we need to reach out, we need to
introduce ourselves, have the courage open up to those around us whom we don’t
know yet and along the way practice thoughtful self-forgiveness so that our
burdens don’t break our will, our backs, or our faith.
Shabbat Shalom.
