Yesterday lunch I was at my monthly meeting of the 16th Circuit Court Family Violence Faith Watch Committee. We were discussing our annual conference about domestic violence and faith. We decided that the focus of the day would be how faith communities discuss forgiveness when it comes to domestic violence. It is a tricky topic and one that I wrote part of my rabbinic thesis about.
Over time, survivors go through a process of forgiving themselves, their abusers, their communities that didn’t shield them and G-d.
Sometimes we in the faith communities don’t help. Some of us tell victims to forgive before they themselves are ready. Sometimes, we add the words, “You should.” “You must” or add pressure by saying G-d forgives those who trespass so we should forgive those who trespass, or turn the other cheek, or in the 16th century words of Rabbi Luria, added to many Jewish prayerbooks as part of the bedtime ritual, “I hereby forgive anyone who has angered or provoked me or sinned against me, physically or financially or by failing to give me due respect, or in any other matter relating to me, involuntarily or willingly, inadvertently or deliberately, whether in word or deed: let no one incur punishment because of me.”
That last one becomes one of those difficult texts. Really? Forgive someone who hurt me physically? Financially? Can I do that? Can anyone do that? Or is it just something we aspire to?
My job at the conference will be to do an interactive text study of some of those texts, across religious traditions. It is a job I am well suited for, as I jokingly remind people that I got an A in a course entitled, “Justice, Forgiveness and Reconciliation in Jewish and Christian Thought.”
It was in this class where I read extensively the words of Nelson Mandela. Nelson Mandela, held in prison for 27 years for his activism against apartheid, against racism. Nelson Mandela who became the first president of a unified South Africa. Nelson Mandela who reached out to his enemies and invited them to his inauguration. Nelson Mandela who insisted on the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. Nelson Mandela who is known for sitting in that jail and forgiving his captors.
In Simon Wiesenthal’s seminal book, The Sunflower, On the Possibilities and Limits of Forgiveness, which we read for that class, Robert McAfee Brown acknowledges that “perhaps there are situations where sacrificial love, with forgiveness at the heart of it, can make a difference, and can even empower” (pp. 122-123). He cites Nelson Mandela and Tomas Borge as examples of men who have forgiven wrongs that many might see as unforgivable.
Mandela himself said in his book, Long Road to Freedom, “As I walked out the door toward the gate that would lead to my freedom, I knew if I didn’t leave my bitterness and hatred behind, I’d still be in prison.” He is talking about forgiveness. In his Nobel Peace Prize acceptance speech he said, “If you want to make peace with your enemy, you have to work with your enemy. Then he becomes your partner. We forgive but not forgotten…Courageous people do not fear forgiving, for the sake of peace.”
As part of the debate on the special report of the Truth and Reconciliation Committee he said, “We recall our terrible past so that we can deal with it, to forgive where forgiveness is necessary, without forgetting; to ensure that never again will such inhumanity tear us apart; and to move ourselves to eradicate a legacy that lurks dangerously as a threat to our democracy.”
Forgiveness is a difficult thing. Forgiveness does not mean forgetting. Forgiveness is not a one time thing. It is a process. Rabbi Harold Kushner teaches, “Since my husband walked out on us, every month is a struggle to pay our bills. I have to tell my kids we have no money to go to the movies, while he’s living it up with his new wife in another state. How can you tell me to forgive him?” I answered her, “I’m not asking you to forgive him because what he did was acceptable. It wasn’t; it was mean and selfish. I’m asking you to forgive because he doesn’t deserve the power to live in your head and turn you into a bitter, angry woman. By holding on to that resentment, you are not hurting him, but you are hurting yourself.” Can a victim of domestic violence get to this place? Does he or she need to? Maybe for the reasons that Kushner cites. I would never tell a victim of domestic violence that they have to forgive their abuser. Until people feels safe, they cannot forgive.
Forgiveness is difficult. Forgiveness is complicated. Forgiveness happens slowly over time. Forgiveness does not mean forgetting. Forgiveness does not mean not pursuing justice. It is a softening, a flowering, a measure of healing–and only one measure. It is about putting the pieces of our lives back together and there is no one way to do that and no time line.
Nelson Mandela led by example. He led from the front and from the back when he needed to, as he himself said. Our job as leaders is to follow his lead. I applaud Mandela for the courage that he displayed. I admire his leadership. May his memory continue as a blessing. May we all learn from his example.
Beautiful Margaret.
Margaret, I remember when you invited several of us to participate by writing about forgiveness and how much the process helped us. All that you have written is right on the mark…especially about “the power to live in your head and turn you into a bitter, angry woman.” I think you could write a book called “Why does G-d allow bad things to happen to good people?”
Thank you Amy and Dona. Dona, that book has already been done, When Bad Things Happen to Good People. (Although I think you were being funny). I went to an interesting Chicago Board of Rabbi meeting yesterday about when the rabbi struggles with faith because his friend dies. Look for more on that topic!
A beautiful piece of writing. Thank you for including full quotes and explanations for the diference between forgiveness and forgetting, and most of all, for describing what anger and bitterness can do to someone.