Posted on 09/11/2002 6:58:50 AM PDT by July 4th
G-d, I need your guidance. I grieve for all the victims of September 11th. My heart is filled with pain, and with anger at the terrorists responsible for the horrible crimes committed on that day. But I know that you teach us to forgive those who sin. In the Bible you often tell us that you are a G-d who is slow to anger, merciful and forgiving. We are supposed to imitate you and adopt Your behavior as guidelines for our own personal conduct. Does that really mean that no matter how difficult it is, I have to tell myself to forgive all those who turned the twin towers into a mass graveyard? Am I guilty of failing my spiritual obligations if I'm not willing to respond to terrorism with love and forgiveness? G-d, how far does clemency go? In the name of religion, must I be prepared to pardon even those who committed murder?
Forgiveness is a divine trait. It defines the goodness of G-d. Without it human beings probably couldn't survive. Because G-d forgives, there's still hope for sinners. When we do wrong, G-d reassures us that he won't abandon us as a result of our transgressions. Divine forgiveness is the quality that most clearly proves G-d's love for us.
That's why the many passages in the Bible that affirm G-d's willingness to forgive our sins are so important. They comfort us and they fill us with confidence. We know none of us are perfect. If we would be judged solely on our actions we would surely all fall short. Thank G-d the heavenly court isn't that strict. We can rest assured, as the prophet Isaiah told us in the name of the Lord, "Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow."
It makes perfect sense, then, for us to understand that if we expect G-d to forgive us for our failings we have to be prepared to forgive others as well. What we need when we're being judged from above certainly deserves to be granted to those we are judging. So we obviously have to be guided by the profound words of Alexander Pope: "To err is human, to forgive, divine."
That all makes it seem like we have no choice in the matter. Forgiveness appears to be our only moral option. But the more we study the Bible, the more we recognize a peculiar paradox. The same G-d who preaches forgiveness very often doesn't forgive. Instead, he punishes sinners. He holds people responsible. He criticizes, he condemns, and afflicts those who committed crimes. Adam and Eve sinned, and they were kicked out of the Garden of Eden. Cain sinned and he was condemned to become a wanderer over the face of the earth. The generation of Noah sinned and a flood destroyed them. The builders of the Tower of Babel sinned and their speech was turned into babble. In one story after another, from the five Books of Moses through the works of the prophets, we read of retribution, of accountability, of divine punishment.
Isn't this an innate contradiction in the Bible? The same book in which G-d identifies himself as merciful and forgiving, repeatedly shows us a G-d of justice who withholds undeserved pardons. It almost sounds hypocritical to hear G-d glorify forgiveness as an ideal way to act and then most the time not to put it into practice in his dealings with human beings.
There must be something we're missing. There can't be such an obvious contradiction in the Bible. And sure enough, just a little reflection makes clear why there are times when G-d forgives people for their sins and why at other times he refuses.
THE PRICE FOR FORGIVENESS
G-d's great gift to us is a heavenly pardon. But His present is predicated on a condition. What He asks us to do before He grants us forgiveness is to acknowledge that we were wrong and that we renounce our sinful behavior.
"Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; and let him return unto the Lord, and He will have mercy upon him; and to our G-d, and He will abundantly pardon." (Isaiah 55:7)
Forgiveness is willing to overlook the sins of the past for the sake of an altered future. It is ready to pardon the most terrible wrongs for the price of remorse, regret and the desire for a new beginning. But the one thing G-d's forgiveness is unwilling to do is to condone vicious crimes by simply accepting them. An unrepentant sinner mistakes G-d's mercy for permission to continue in his ways. To forgive such a person isn't kindness; its cruelty to all those who'll be hurt by the evil that wasn't stopped before it could do more harm.
Yes, it was the same G-d who drowned the wicked generation of Noah and who saved the evil people of Nineveh. Those who were destroyed by the flood were given plenty of warning. They watched Noah build his ark for many years. Noah told them what G-d planned to do if they didn't repent. But they didn't believe him - even when it started to rain and to pour like never before. So of course people who didn't see the need to ask for forgiveness weren't forgiven.
But when Jonah told the residents of the city of Nineveh that they were doomed because of their evil behavior, they took the message to heart and committed themselves to a new way of life. And the people who changed were immediately forgiven. G-d wasn't going to hold their past against them - because it was really a thing of the past.
To speak of forgiveness as if it were the automatic entitlement of every criminal is to pervert a noble sentiment into a carte blanche for mayhem and chaos. We might as well open the doors of every jail and release all the thieves, rapists and murderers. Our wonderful act of compassion wouldn't take too long to be followed by the cries of the victims of our folly!
As a Jew, I recognize this idea as a basic principle of our faith. In our tradition we are taught that, "He who forgives the wicked hurts the good." But you don't have to be Jewish to acknowledge the validity of this concept. The Christian Bible unambiguously affirms it as well: "And if your brother sins against you, rebuke him; and if he repents, forgive him. And if seven times of the day he sins against you, and seven times of the day turns to you saying, I repent, you shall forgive him." (Luke 17:3-4) Forgiveness isn't an orphan. Its parent has to be repentance.
DON'T FORGIVE THEM UNLESS
Forgiving people who aren't sorry for what they did makes a statement: Repentance isn't really necessary. No matter what you did, you don't have to change. Can anything be more immoral than encouraging evil by refraining from any condemnation of those who commit it?
The day after the Columbine High School massacre, a group of students announced that they forgave the killers. A short while after the Oklahoma bombing, some people put out a call to forgive Timothy McVeigh. And, on September 12th, on several American campuses, colleges groups pleaded for forgiveness for the terrorists responsible for the horrific events of the previous day.
These weren't just misguided gestures of compassion. They were serious sins with potentially tragic consequences. Evil unchallenged is evil condoned. To forgive and forget, as Arthur Schopenhauer so well put it, "means to throw valuable experience out the window." And without the benefit of experience's lessons we are almost certain to be doomed to repeat them.
The terrorists who piloted the planes into the twin towers never asked us to be forgiven. They expressed not the slightest remorse as they went to their deaths together with their victims. Those who sent them, those who financed them, and those who applauded their mission never for a moment regretted what happened. Forgiving them is no less than giving them license to murder 4000 more innocent people. That's why to forgive in a case like this is to become an accomplice to future crimes.
WHAT IF A NAZI ASKED FOR FORGIVENESS?
What If a Nazi Asked For Forgiveness? But what if a brutal murderer realizes the enormity of his crimes and honestly regrets his past deeds? What if the plea for forgiveness is accompanied by sincere remorse? Can the crimes of the past be forgotten? Is a troubled conscience sufficient to secure automatic forgiveness?
That's not just a theoretical question. Something exactly like that happened towards the end of the Holocaust. And the man who had to decide what to do in such a situation, a concentration camp victim who had suffered indescribable mistreatment and torture, wrote a remarkable book about his experience.
Simon Wiesenthal was a prisoner of the Nazis confined to slave labor in a German hospital. One day he was suddenly pulled away from his work and brought into a room where an SS soldier lay dying. The German officer, Karl, confessed to Wiesenthal that he had committed atrocious crimes. Although raised as a good Catholic and in his youth G-d-fearing, Karl had allowed himself to become a sadistic accomplice to Nazi ideology. Now that he knew his end was near and he would soon be facing his Maker, Karl was overcome by what he now realized was the enormity of his sins.
More than anything else, Karl knew that he needed atonement. He wanted to die with a clear conscience. So he asked that a Jew be brought to him. And from this Jew, Simon Wiesenthal, the killer asked for absolution.
Wiesenthal has been haunted by this scene his entire life. When it happened, he was in such shock that he didn't know how to respond. His emotions pulled him in different directions. Anger mixed with pity , hatred with compassion, and revulsion with mercy. His conclusion was to leave in utter silence. He didn't grant Karl the forgiveness the German desperately sought.
Years later, Wiesenthal shared the story with a number of prominent intellectuals, theologians and religious leaders. How would they have reacted?, he asked them. In the light of religious teachings and ethical ideals, what should have been the proper response? Was there a more suitable reply than silence?
Wiesenthal collected the answers and had them published as a book called The Sunflower. The ranges of responses offer a fascinating insight into different views on forgiveness. Some, like the British journalist Christopher Hollis, believe that the law of G-d is the law of love, no matter what the situation. We have an obligation to forgive our fellow human beings even when they have caused us the greatest harm. A remorseful murderer deserved compassion.
On the other hand, Cardinal Franz Konig believes that Wiesenthal did Karl a favor just by listening to him. Wiesenthal did pass up the chance to offer his forgiveness to Karl, although in those circumstances doing so would have been " superhuman."
Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, a prominent American theologian and author, offered a different perspective. No one can forgive crimes not committed against him or her personally. What Karl sought could only come from his victims. It's preposterous to think that one solitary Jew can presume to speak for 6 million.
AND WHO ARE YOU TO FORGIVE?
Some years ago, Rabbi Heschel had occasion to elaborate on this idea. He had been invited to address a group of prominent business executives. Among them were some of the most important CEOs in the country. His lecture dealt with the Holocaust and its lessons for us. He stressed the importance of memory and the need to continue to bear witness to the crime of genocide.
When he finished, one of the very famous names in American corporate life angrily rebutted the essence of Heschel's talk. " I'm tired," he said," of hearing about the Holocaust. You claim that you're speaking in the name of morality. Why can't you demonstrate true morality by learning to forgive and forget?"
To a stunned audience, Heschel replied by asking them for permission to tell a story. Before beginning, he introduced his listeners to the man he would be speaking about. In the history of the Jewish people, he explained, there has hardly ever been someone considered as saintly as Rabbi Israel Kagan, commonly known as the Chafetz Chaim ("the one who desires true life"). A Polish rabbi and scholar of the late 19th and early 20th century, he was universally revered not just for his piety but more importantly for his extreme concern for the feelings of his fellow man. It is an incident in the life of this holy figure that Heschel said he wanted to share before he would respond to the question put to him.
Rabbi Kagan was traveling on a train, immersed in a religious book he was studying. Alongside him sat three Jews anxious to while away the time by playing cards. The game required a fourth hand so they asked the unrecognized stranger to join them. Rabbi Kagan politely refused, explaining that he preferred to continue his reading. The frustrated card players refused to take no for an answer. They began to beat the poor Rabbi until they left him bleeding.
Hours later, the train pulled into the station. Hundreds of people swarmed the platform waiting to greet the great sage. Posters bore signs of Welcome to the Chafetz Chaim. As the Rabbi, embarrassed by all the adulation, walked off the train with his bruises, the crowd lifted him up and carried him off on their shoulders. Watching with horror were the three Jews who had not long before accosted the simple Jew sitting in their cabin, now revealed as one of the spiritual giants of their generation. Profoundly ashamed and plagued by their guilt, they managed to make their way through the crowd and reached their unwilling card player partner.
With tears, they poured out their feelings of shame and remorse. How could they possibly have assaulted this great Rabbi? They begged for forgiveness. And incredibly enough, the Rabbi said no. The man who spent his life preaching love now refused to extend it to people who harmed him and regretted their actions. It seemed incomprehensible. So the three Jews attributed it to a momentary lapse. Perhaps, they thought, it was just too soon for the rabbi to forgive them. He probably needed some time to get over the hurt. They would wait a while and ask again at a more propitious moment.
Several weeks passed and it was now close to Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. Even the simplest Jews knew that they had to gain forgiveness from their friends if they wanted to be pardoned by G-d. With trepidation, the wicked three wrangled an appointment and once again were able to speak to the Rabbi. They pleaded their case. Still the Rabbi said no. He would not forgive them.
The rabbi's son was present as this strange scene played itself out. Puzzled by his father's peculiar behavior, he couldn't contain himself. It was so unlike anything he had ever witnessed before. Why did his father suddenly act so cruelly? Why would he persist in tormenting people who only asked for a simple expression of forgiveness?
The son dared to ask. His father explained. "Do you really think I don't want to forgive these poor Jews before the High Holy days? If it were only in my power to do so, don't you know that I would have forgiven them when they stood before me at the railroad station? Of course I, Rabbi Kagan, forgive them for what they did to me. When they learned who I was, they were mortified and filled with shame for what they had done. But the man they beat up was the one they presumed to be a simple, unassuming poor person with no crowd of well- wishers waiting to greet him. He was the victim and only he is the one capable of granting them forgiveness. Let them go find that person. I am incapable of releasing them from their guilt."
Rabbi Heschel completed the story. He then turned to the executive who suggested that it was time for us to move on after the Holocaust and to forgive and forget. "I would be more than happy to do so if I only could. But I was not the one who was sealed in the gas chambers to die a horrible death. I didn't have my child pulled from my breast and shot it in front of my eyes. I was not among the tortured, the beaten, the whipped, and the murdered. It is they and they alone who can offer forgiveness. Go and find those 6 million and ask them if they are prepared to forgive and forget."
Should we forgive the murderers of the thousands of victims of terrorism on 9/11? Perhaps the most appropriate response is simply this: We are not the ones who have the right to make that decision.
I would forgive them... After each and every one of them AND THEIR SEED is DEAD!
I think you should pause and give people the benefit of the doubt before you rush to condemn.
Rabbi Blech's answer is correct. This is an excellent article, while the attitude on the other thread is typical of the modern apostacy and may be one of the causes of it. In fact, the concept on the other thread is more like the Masonic doctrine of the "Fatherhood of God and the Brotherhood of Man" which is universalism and false. Blanket forgiveness without repentance brings society down to the lowest common denominator. Rabbi Blech's position calls people up to civility and to a higher position consistent with what G~d requires. It lifts them from the mire and says there is a consequence for sin.
There can be no forgiveness without repentance and restitution. What many Christians define as grace is merely their excuse to continue in unrighteousness and lawlessness. Num. 15:30 calls it doing ought presumptously and it is a sin unto death.
I could understand an oppressed people attacking their oppressors , with any means possible including "terrorism".
I believe there was a symbolism to attacking the World Trade Center and that the people working there weren't even part of it.
In order to heal ourselves , we can't harbor hate for these people. When we carry hate inside of us it festers and spoils our lives , while the ones we are hating probably don't give us a second thought.
If and when the time comes there will be a swift and violent reckoning for this attack and any others that may happen.
But until then let's remain calm respecting our fallen friends and family and represent them proudly.
There's a lot more things in this world to fight about , than ways of respecting the same God.
To me it seemed God could handle those people Himself.
But now if I understand it right , it's so Jews themselves don't accidently deface Gods' name.
Peace
This is not about harboring hate or being hateful. That is an argument often used against those who are opposed to wickedness and those who are victims of violence. G~d is angry with the wicked every day. Does that mean G~d is angry and hate-filled? No! It means He is just and there is a consequence of actions. If we are to be like Him we will be the same. A society should reward good and punish evil instead of all the reversals of that we see so often. See Godel's post in #11:
Blanket forgiveness cheapens the act of forgiveness itself. It masquerades as holiness and love but in actuality it is just a deadening or absence of true feeling. Some people are afraid of feeling anger or hatred because they have been brainwashed into believing these are "evil" or "negative" emotions. Nothing could be further from the truth. Our anger in response to an evil act discourages future acts of evil. If you refuse to be angry at murder then in some way you have moved closer to making it acceptable. There is a proper time and a place for all our emotions. Those people who are afraid to get in touch with all of their god given emotions will never truly understand humanity.I suggest saving and studying Rabbi Blech's article. There are many excellent points in it and it is one of the best understandings of forgiveness I have seen.
A voice of responsible reason in a sea of relative moralism is not only refresing, it is inspirational.
Given the chance I would slaughter the people responsible for this , all of them.
And walking around with hate ( constantly )in your heart is a waste of your life. It only punishes you , not your enemy.
Yes hate is a natural response to such action , and I see your point there. I just feel it's a type of stress that we have to get over the same as anger.
And then deal with the situation.
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