The Courage to Search the Heart©
Reverend Janet Parsons
Gloucester UU Church
October 2, 2022
It was 25 years ago now: one of the earliest school shootings that I remember hearing of, at Heath High School in West Paducah, Kentucky. This was even before the terrible Columbine shooting, back when we hoped that this phenomenon might be isolated, or even short-lived. A 14-year old opened fire on a group of students, killing three, and wounding five more.
It’s a long time ago now, but I remember my horror. And I particularly remember one quote in the newspaper that puzzled me, and has stayed with me over the years. One young girl witnessed the shooting, and talked about her fear. She then concluded, “but I’m a Christian and so as a Christian I forgive him.”
And I thought, ‘how can that be possible?’ Instant forgiveness? And I have found since then that that comment still perplexes me. We warn so often about a rush to judgment. But shouldn’t we also be concerned about a rush to forgiveness?
Yom Kippur, the holiest day in the Jewish year, is also known as the Day of Atonement. This year it begins on Tuesday evening, and lasts until sundown on Wednesday. Yom Kippur concludes the 10-day observance known as the Days of Awe, which began last week with the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah. During this period, Jewish people are called to search their hearts, to remember times in the past year when they might have caused harm, and to seek ways to atone for their actions. On Yom Kippur, people attend day-long services at synagogues, and fast. But that is just the culmination of the 10 Days of Awe, during which they are called to act; to reach out to those who they might have harmed, to try to examine themselves and to learn from any mistakes.
It’s a process. In our culture of instant gratification, when we are conditioned by media to solve mysteries within an hour, to buy anything that might make us happy, to jump straight to forgiving and forgetting, we tend to not want to engage in a lengthy process to repair our mistakes. Feelings of guilt and shame make us uncomfortable, and our main motivation is to put those feelings behind us as quickly as possible.
One of the marked differences between Christianity and Judaism is that Christianity emphasizes forgiveness as the ultimate goal in repairing relationships, repairing harm. Unintentionally, this can place the burden on the person harmed. “Forgive and forget!” is a commonly heard phrase. But in Judaism, the emphasis is on repentance, on repair. Forgiveness, if it takes place at all, is considered to be a much later step in the process. Repentance, or teshuva, or turning, is the important work that the person who has caused harm must begin, even before an apology, or a request for forgiveness.
Teshuva. Turning. Last week Gail Seavey spoke about these concepts, and led you through the Jewish ritual of Tashlich, or symbolically casting sins into water. And you sang the old Shaker song, so perfect for the occasion: “’Tis a gift to come back where we ought to be…To turn, turn, will be our delight, for in turning, turning, we come round right.”
The goal of Teshuvah, of repentance, is to cast off the harmful behavior. We do that by committing to study ourselves, to examine ourselves, and over time, become a person who no longer causes harm in such a way. We work to return to the person we are capable of being.
Much of this practice was developed by the 12 century Jewish scholar, philosopher, and physician Moses ben Maimon, known as Maimonides. He codified Jewish law guiding many areas of observant Jewish life, and his masterpiece is known as the Mishneh Torah. In this work Maimonides set forth a five-step process for healing and repair, that can guide anyone, in any era. Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg, the author of our reading this morning, wrote, “After years of working with Maimonides’ stages of repentance, I have become convinced that they make sense not only in our individual lives – as we make mistakes with our coworkers, friends, family, and intimate partners – but also on the communal, cultural, and even national level.” (On Repentance and Repair, p. 22.)
Rabbi Ruttenberg goes on to say, “The Laws of Repentance are about amends, but also about transformation. According to Maimonides, a person doesn’t just get to mess up, mumble, ‘Sorry,’ and get on with it. They’re not entitled to forgiveness if they haven’t done the work of repair.” (Ibid., 23.)
We have all seen and heard many insincere apologies in our lives. I’m especially thinking of politicians and certain supposedly religious figures, whose apologies usually amount to “I’m sorry I got caught.” We can feel the lack of accountability, the lack of authenticity behind those statements. A bad apology really ends up making a situation worse: imagine how a person who’s been wronged feels when they hear, “Well, I’m sorry, but you really shouldn’t have made me so mad,” or other similar versions. I always say that an authentic apology should never contain the word ‘but’. It automatically forces the blame, and the work, back onto the victim.
So what should we do, according to the 12-century philosopher? It’ll be hard to go into much detail in this short time we have this morning, but we can touch on Maimonides’ five steps. For all of you who might participate in a 12-step program, you are likely to note some similarities.
The work begins, according to Maimonides, with being able to name and own the harm we might have caused. This is confession, admitting and acknowledging that our words and or actions have done damage. This is a challenging exercise in our culture today: imagine what our lawyers might say if we proposed such an action. I remember learning some years ago that medical doctors were instructed to never admit to a mistake, and never to apologize, for fear that they would be sued. Imagine the pain and guilt that results. For until the damage can be named and acknowledged, there is no path forward. We cannot repent for something we cannot admit.
To even begin this first step, we must have the courage to face our words and actions, and to admit them, first to ourselves, and then to others. This is risky: what if the harmed person lashes out, brings up other mistakes, hurts us in return? This work requires courage.
The second step in the process of repentance is beginning to change. In order to truly repent, we must learn enough about ourselves, our actions, and their consequences to simply never allow the harmful mistake to happen again. In other words, if we find that we keep repeating the same mistake over and over – a hurtful comment, a joke, or worse – then we have not internalized and truly understood the harm we are causing. True repentance is demonstrated by a change in behavior and in thinking; when we find we are capable of making different and better choices. Even if we’ve offered a sincere apology, for cheating on a partner, for example, but then find ourselves tempted to do it again, we have not repented. We have not turned.
The third step is making amends. It’s interesting to note that this takes place after admitting to a mistake and beginning the process of repentance. Why not start with restitution: paying damages, perhaps? Paying for medical care for an injury, or for therapy for someone who has suffered abuse? Well, if we haven’t truly confronted the harm we have done, the restitution, the amends, might not really be equivalent to the harm that has been done. It might not be truly sincere.
And now we finally arrive at Step four, which is apology. This can take place at the same time as making amends. This work, this process, doesn’t have to happen one step at a time. But again, an apology waits until it is truly sincere, until the person who has caused harm understands the magnitude and is ready to approach the wronged person humbly. Rabbi Ruttenberg tells the story of a rabbi who was caught filming women as they entered a ritual bath. He did this many times over the years, apparently, and when caught offered a proper apology. But, he asked for and received a lighter sentence based on only one act, rather than on multiple ones. And the women who had been victimized were left feeling that this could not be a sincere apology, as he made it clear he felt entitled to a reduced jail sentence. The restitution and the apology did not equal the harm that was done.
It is now, at this stage of the process of repentance, that we can ask for forgiveness. We should not expect it, and according to Maimonides, whether forgiveness is granted is not the most important part. We know, of course, that forgiveness helps ultimately to restore a victim to wholeness, but it cannot be commanded, or expected. True forgiveness happens only when the victim is ready. That is why, when I read about the young girl offering forgiveness to a school shooter, I was so astonished. It could not possibly be authentic.
And finally, we are at the end of this long journey toward wholeness, toward repentance. And this final phase is when, if all the work has been done, perhaps taking years, and false starts and stops, and more mistakes along the way, we are finally able to see ourselves with honesty, and to become the person we know we should be. If we are willing to engage this process, to search our hearts, to take risks and be courageous, we can be transformed. We can ‘come round right.’
Teshuva. Turning. Having the courage to search our inmost selves, to see ourselves honestly, to be willing to find a better way for ourselves and for all those in our lives. A life of accountability and honesty; a life of accepting consequences for our words and actions, takes courage.
Our culture shies away from this way of being. We are taught to hide from ourselves, and from those around us. We are taught to never admit a mistake, to never apologize. Think of the damage this does; to our souls, to the people around us, to the world.
The Psalmist wrote,
“O Lord, you have searched me and known me.
You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
You discern my thoughts from far away.
You search out my path and my lying down,
And are acquainted with all my ways.
Even before a word is on my tongue, O Lord, you know it completely.
You hem me in, behind and before,
And lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is so high I cannot attain it.
Where can I go from your spirit?
Or where can I flee from your presence?…
And the Psalm concludes:
Search me, O God, and know my heart;
Test me and know my thoughts.
See if there is any wicked way in me,
And lead me in the way everlasting.” (Ps. 139, NRSV)
May we be grateful for conscience, for the still, small voice named or unnamed, and may we have the courage to listen, to be tested, and to know our hearts.
Blessed Be.
Amen.
