Last week, a youngish relative was trashed on the internet in a very ugly fashion by someone she had thought was a friend. She posted that she was unsure how or if to respond. Some friends recommended that she blast the person publicly and then end the relationship, others said “forgive and forget.” She responded that she did not feel forgiving; the person had not apologized and in fact had doubled down on her criticism. This post is dedicated to my relative R.F., and is a Jewish answer to her problem.
When I was victimized by someone, my first reaction was to get even. Then it occurred to me that wanting to hurt someone who had hurt me was carrying a grudge or acting in revenge. But these are against the Torah. The Torah teaches, “Thou shalt not take vengeance, nor bear any grudge against the children of thy people, but thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself: I am the L-rd.” (Leviticus 19:18).
But when someone wrongs you, how do you get over it? How do you forgive?
Two Souls
One line from our morning prayers gave me a clue: “The soul that You breathed into me is pure.”
The Chassidic movement teaches that we have two souls: an animal soul that is the part of us rooted in the physicality of this world, the part that has physical appetites; and a godly soul, the part that desires a strong connection with God (or, if we are unbelievers, the part that desires justice and hates evil). The godly soul tells us not to steal, to be kind to others, and if we are Jewish, to keep the traditional Jewish laws. The secular world calls this our conscience.
The wrongs we do come from our animal souls. Heavenly souls do not do hurtful things.
The wrong that a person does against us comes from his or her animal soul.
I do not want to commit an act of revenge that will harm or at least pain a godly soul, especially because that godly soul is already pained by the animal soul’s hurtful act. (The secular world calls this feeling guilt, shame, or both.)
At this basic level I might still be upset, feel hurt, or even angry. Yet I find within myself the strength not to hope for the person’s downfall and not to feel the need for revenge. In this context, when I think about a person’s animal soul striking out and hurting my godly soul, it is not difficult for me to forgive.
But what about my desire for justice?
God ends Leviticus 19:18 with the words, “I am the Lord.” He is telling us that our job is to love the heavenly souls of the people around us. He will do the godly thing: judge the animal souls and mete out any needed punishment.
In this framework, forgiving or setting down my burden of hurt becomes easier. The desire for revenge is, simply, the desire for retribution or justice. If God will take care of that, then I can let go of it. It is out of my hands, and—whether in this world or the next, whether in a form comprehensible to me or not—justice will be done.
Belief versus Nonbelief
Understanding and getting relief from these ideas of forgiveness is predicated on one thing: a belief in a loving God who cares for each individual. And I hear a lot of you readers saying, But I do not believe.
First, no one believes all the time, and no one’s belief stays the same all the time. Anyone who says so is not being honest (likely not honest with him- or herself). Second, belief starts out as a choice.
When our conscience fights with something we did or are thinking of doing, it is these two souls, these two sides of us, fighting. The results can be very ugly. Nonbelieving Jews often hate traditional Jews and traditional Jewish belief or abhor Israel. They call it rational to dislike irrational belief/faith and to abhor the “genocide” and “apartheid” that are claimed to be Israeli problems. However, the level of their dislike and their need to “get even” with religious Jews or with Israel proves that their dislike is not purely rational.
A rational response would be to shrug off religious people or elements. They could to brush aside Israel as simply a place they would not like to visit, the way I have no interest in visiting France or Germany because of their actions during World War II. I do not take to the streets to proclaim my feelings. When I see someone with an ugly hairdo I shrug it off. Their hairdo has nothing to do with me.
The problem with self-hating Jews is that their godly souls are pulling them toward God, that is, in a direction that they do not want to go. Meanwhile, their animal souls are pulling them hard in the other direction. This conflict is painful, so they lash out. When we stub our toe, we often kick the thing we stubbed it on.
Learning to believe
Think of a small child whose mother points to a daffodil and says, “See the flower.” Then she points to a rose and says, “See the flower.” And when the iris are in bloom she says, “See the flower.” That child will grow up like the man I knew who told me that he honestly couldn’t tell the difference between a daffodil and a rose. But if Mom says, “See the daffodil, see the rose, see the iris,” the child will instinctively look for the details. The same is true about belief. If no one teaches you to believe, and especially if people teach you not to believe, you will miss all the signs. You will not have a clue what to look for.
When I was learning to make God more than an intellectual concept, my spiritual teacher taught me to keep these ideas in mind:
Love God unconditionally. That is, do not think things like, “God can’t do that.” That is a limit, a condition.
Focus on God, not myself. Be aware of what God has done in my life. And in situations, what would a loving God do now?
When I focus on God and what He wants, I will see opportunities for behavior that I will not see when I am focusing on what I want and what I feel. What does He want? I was made in His image, so I should try to emulate His traits of love, mercy, generosity, modesty and justice (fairness).
Allow life to surprise me; move away from what I want to what God wants for me. In other words, do not try to force life to fit my ideas of what should or should not happen.
This last principle reminds me of a woman I knew who at 40 decided she wanted a baby. Many things got in her way of this goal, so at the age of 45 she used artificial insemination and very expensive invitro fertilization. I ran into her two years later, pushing a stroller with a screaming toddler. “I should never have done this,” she told me. “I am too old for a baby.”
The Baal Shem Tov, a great Chassidic master, reduced these concepts to two sentences: “Whatever a person sees or hears is a lesson in his service of God. This is what Divine Service consists of: understanding and deducing a way to serve God from everything.”
Once I began using these principles, I began to feel God’s presence and my life started to change for the better.
God as a Crutch
Okay, you’re a skeptic, and you say, “You’re just imagining God’s presence.” To which I reply, “Well, that’s certainly a possibility; but since my life has started to improve, I will continue to choose belief.”
As a child, I was taught that religion is a drug for weak people. As an adult, I believe that nonbelief can just as reasonably be considered a drug, one that incapacitates and encourages laziness and selfishness.
Laziness is encouraged because without God, the only things to strive for are the hollow goals of recognition and material success. Someone wise enough to see the hollowness of these is goal-less. Hence so many of the best minds get stuck in laziness that turns into (nonproductive) activism against products of godly souls, such as the riots of the past few years for George Floyd, for the normalization of transgenderism, and for Hamas.
Selfishness is the natural state of children who have not yet been taught that the world depends on the contributions of each of us.
To contribute meaningfully we must be aware of others and their needs, which is the opposite of the natural state of selfishness and must be taught. But without awareness of such godly traits as modesty, mercy, kindness, generosity, and fairness, we see the world through the selfish lens of “what can I get from this.”
Maybe God is a crutch. But I would rather be a weak person who admits she needs a crutch to walk than a person who selfishly sits around and moans that she was just born a victim.
Do You Have To Be Jewish?
Note that I have not said here that everyone needs to become Jewish to believe. To the best of my knowledge, these principles are basic to the Christian faith as well as to Judaism, and quite possibly to other faiths as well.
Additionally, one can believe in God and strive to emulate Him without belonging to any religion. In earlier writings I have mentioned the Seven Laws of Noah. I will be writing more about these in the coming weeks. These are the basic laws of civilization and are open to all people.
For me, studying my religion and the writings of great Jewish thinkers gives me insights into what wiser and more learned people have said about these big issues. Since most people these days are literate, and since bookstores and libraries abound, the thoughts of many more great thinkers are available to all.
Note I deliberately did not include podcasts here. Many evil people preach seductively online. But the great minds of the past are well documented, although possibly only available on paper.
The Ultimate Benefit of Forgiving
More important than whether God is or is not a crutch is that the unforeseen result of learning to forgive—being able to pray for the wellbeing of people who have hurt me—and knowing that God is in control has let me set down a tremendous weight. It has freed me from the burden of past hurts.
Learning forgiveness, is not quick or easy, but it is worthwhile. Because once you let go of your burdens, both those of today and of the past, you are free to soar.
Once again you're right on the mark, writing things that manage to be pertinent to all religions and all people. I'm looking forward to the 7 laws of Noah.
Take care, Jeff