Forgiveness

Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, "Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?" Jesus answered, "I tell you, not seven times, but seven times seven."  (The Gospel of Matthew 18:21-22)

Grace:
Accustomed to the “three strikes and you’re out” rule, most of us imagine forgiveness in conditional terms.  How can an Amish community, grieving the savage killing of five innocent children, forgive the perpetrator and then offer support to the shooter’s family?[1] How can a Holocaust survivor live with memories of a Nazi officer leading his parents and siblings to death in a gas chamber?[2]  How does a doctor in Gaza forgive the soldiers in tanks who decimated his home and claimed the lives of three of his five children?[3]  How can any of us forgive those who intentionally inflict harm and justify evil deeds with talk of righteousness? I think forgiving “seven times seven” calls us not to deny evil, but repeatedly to face darkness with light. Doing so requires deep faith and real courage." Yet I believe that in going through the painful and anguished process of forgiving others, we ourselves are transformed.

Yasmina:

Grace, I know this is not a mere coincidence. I attended a youth discussion this morning with my children at their first day of Sunday School and the topic happened to be forgiveness. I wish I could share in this forum the hour’s worth of sharp arguments and conversations. It was clear that forgiveness is complex, and part of the noble behavior that a Muslim strives to attain. The Quran and the Sunnah offer depictions of the virtues underlying it: determination, grace, patience, self-control and a strong desire to “do good.” Forgiveness is also described as having tangible, positive consequences; some are enjoyed in this world, such as turning adversaries into friends, and others are granted in the hereafter. Reflecting on the power of forgiveness is inspiring, and knowing that the All-Forgiving is willing to forgive us over and over again is deeply humbling. One of my favorite reminders of this is the verse, “…and let them pardon and overlook, would you not like that God should forgive you?” (al-Nur 24:22)

Tziporah:

Grace, this is also a timely topic for me, since Jews are currently in the period of what we call the Yamim Noraim, Days of Awe, a time for repentance and forgiveness.  The text from Matthew and your reflection made me think of Maimonides, who cautions: “It is forbidden for a person to be cruel and refuse to be appeased. Rather, he should be easily pacified, but hard to anger. When the person who wronged him asks for forgiveness, he should forgive him with a complete heart and a willing spirit. Even if he aggravated and wronged him severely, he should not seek revenge or bear a grudge.”[4]  Maimonides’ code is sensitive to the realities of interpersonal relations: it can be quite difficult to forgive another who has hurt you deeply, and some actions seem entirely unforgiveable. At the same time, refusing to forgive another is inevitably more hurtful to the person who bears the grudge.  I am also reminded of Pharaoh’s hardened heart and the terrible pain he ultimately endures because of his own cruelty.

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[1] Amish Grace: How Forgiveness Transcended Tragedy, Donald Kraybill, et al.

[2] See the memoir of Holocaust survivor Benjamin Hirsch and Elie Wiesel’s The Fifth Son.

[3] I Shall Not Hate: A Gaza Doctor's Journey on the Road to Peace and Human Dignity, by Izzeldin Abuelaish.

[4] Mishneh Torah, Laws of Repentance 2, 10. There is an excellent online resource of Maimonides’ works in English translation at Chabad’s website.

Shalom-Salaam-Peace

"Blessed are You, God, the One who spreads peace over us, over all His people of Israel and over Jerusalem." (Arvit, Erev Shabbat - Friday Evening Liturgy)

Tziporah:

While Jews recite a blessing for peace in every evening service, this line is specific to the Friday prayers. I love how we welcome the Sabbath by wishing each other "Shabbat shalom," a peaceful Sabbath, and praying for God to shelter us in a peaceful embrace. For me, the phrase "the One who spreads peace" evokes an image of God covering the world with a blanket of peace just as a parent gently tucks a child into bed at night. At the same time, the ancient, three-fold blessing of "us, Israel, and Jerusalem" gives me pause. For the Jew who composed these words—probably in the wake of the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem—this prayer was intended to apply solely to Jews. However, after engaging in interfaith conversations and study of our sacred texts with you, I have come to a new interpretation of this prayer: I believe each phrase builds from the personal to the universal. First, I pray for me, my family and friends; then for my synagogue community and Jews everywhere; and, finally, for Jerusalem, the spiritual center for all of us who answer Abraham.

Grace:

How very special your prayer, Tziporah!  I am moved by blessings for peace in all our faith traditions, yet also troubled by the absence of peace in the actual lives we live.  We proclaim “peace,” but we go to war with our neighbor, whether across the street or across the world. I am troubled that we—righteous men and women of every faith, even men and women who share a faith—can so easily foment battles with one another, whether over land or a political ideology or a religious doctrine or practice. The words of the song “Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me” haunt me as I ask myself, “With whom do I need to make peace today, and how do I do so?” Peace-making is rarely sweet and easy; it is very hard work! It occurs to me that, even with dedication and heightened awareness, I cannot be a bringer of peace unless I myself am profoundly rooted in the divine—where “self” is lost because consumed. Paradoxically, I believe that, in losing self, we find the self created in God’s own image, the self that does not need to be right, but only to be.  To be willing to lose one’s self in this way is terrifying, but I am convinced that only in so doing can we ever know fully “that peace that passes understanding.”

Yasmina:

Tziporah, I join my voice with yours and turn to As-Salaam, the One Who is the Source of Peace.  Like you, I wish for a peace that starts from the city that symbolizes the convergent point of God’s universal message.  As you know, the Islamic social greeting is “Peace be upon you.” You may also be aware that, in each of the five daily prayers, Muslims send prayers of peace to all the righteous servants of God.  I also join Grace in inviting myself and others to introspection of our most-inner selves: How can we learn to see past our apparent external differences? “Indeed, God will not change the condition of a people until they change what is within themselves.” (al-Ra’d 13:11) This invitation to start the process of change and make the “self” better is what will alter the perceptions we have of each other.  Islam literally means to find inner peace by submitting to the will and commands of God. I am thankful I have been able to celebrate Islam with you both, and I pray that by sharing our conversations we can inspire others to choose a similar path.

God Willing, Part 2

Yasmina returned from vacation and joined last week's conversation in which Grace & Tziporah discussed the topic of God's will. We invite you to share your thoughts in the comments section below.

Yasmina:

Grace, you are absolutely right. The concept of God’s will is one of the central beliefs in Islam, and Tziporah’s explanation of this concept in Judaism describes what it means and entails in Islam, as well. This belief applies to past and future events, and we use the phrases “In Sha Allah” and “Ma Sha Allah” to express it. Believing in God’s will is actually one of the first concepts children learn as they hear their parents respond to their demands: When children ask about going to the park in the afternoon and parents respond, “In Sha Allah,” they wonder if the answer is a "yes" or a "no." Soon they realize that it’s a "yes, unless something happens to interfere with our plans."

The words “Ma Sha Allah” are used when referring to events that have already occurred and when expressing admiration—for someone’s children or home—to ward off the evil eye.  More importantly, they are a verbal expression of the heart’s eye that fully accepts and submits.  For example, Muslims will say “Ma Sha Allah” when misfortune befalls them, accepting what God has decreed for them. This verse illustrates the point that we must equally accept the good and the bad: “And if God should touch you with adversity, there is no remover of it except Him; and if He intends for you good, then there is no one who repels His bounty. He causes it to reach whom He will of His servants. And He is the Forgiving, the Merciful.” (Yunus, 10:107)

As to the matter of justifying one’s actions by stating that they are God’s will, this demonstrates ignorance or twisted motives. When catastrophes such as the recent shootings occur, the one thing to remember is that although God has allowed the perpetrators to act, this in no way means that He has blessed their deeds. Understanding and accepting the tragedy that befalls us may be a test of our patience and trust in God’s wisdom, but this is a topic for yet another conversation.