According to Lord Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, of blessed memory, this morning’s portion changes the trajectory of the world. It is the first time in all of the book of Genesis with it’s imperfect people, where we meet the concept of forgiveness. This happens when Josepeh reveals himself to his brothers.  

“I am your brother Joseph, whom you sold into Egypt! And now, do not be distressed and do not be angry with yourselves for selling me here, because it was to save lives that God sent me ahead of you… it was not you who sent me here, but God.” (Gen. 45:4-8) 

Instead of blaming his brother’s for throwing him in the pit, which causes him to be sold to the Ishmaelites, who sold him to Potipher who threw him in jail, which caused him to interpret Pharoah’s dream’s which caused him to rise to the highest ranks of government which is causing him to provide food for his family who now meets him in Egypt. My Hebrew class that is a whole bunch of hipheal verbs… 

But can you forgive the brothers for throwing him in the pit? Sacks argues that’s exactly what Joseph does:  “According to the Midrash, God had forgiven before this, but not according to the plain sense of the text. Forgiveness is conspicuously lacking as an element in the stories of the Flood, the Tower of Babel, and Sodom. When Abraham prayed his audacious prayer for the people of Sodom, he did not ask God to forgive them. His argument was about justice, not forgiveness. Perhaps there were innocent people there, fifty or even ten. It would be unjust for them to die. Their merit should therefore save the others, says Abraham. That is quite different from asking God to forgive.” 

Note, that it seems in these examples that even G-d has a hard time forgiving:  Think Adam and Eve expelled from the Garden of Eden, Cain forced to wander for the rest of his life, the destruction of the world by flood,  the Tower of Babel, and then Sodom and Gemorah. 

Now, this is Judaism, and some other rabbis argued that really the concept of forgiveness began in the story of Abraham and Abimelech. Nonetheless, the concept of forgiveness is something that Judaism gave to world and is part of what sets us apart as a moral people.  

And yet, in next week’s parsha, the brother’s actual asked for forgiveness: 

They sent word to Joseph, saying, “Your father left these instructions before he died: ‘This is what you are to say to Joseph: I ask you to forgive your brothers for the sins and the wrongs they committed in treating you so badly.’ Now please forgive the sins of the servants of the God of your father.” When their message came to him, Joseph wept. (Gen. 50:16-18) 

Now, I want to be clear. Forgiveness isn’t forgetting. It is isn’t easy. It can be more like an onion, with layers and layers and needed to do it over and over again. So why bother?  

We had a very rich discussion last night. One person said that after holding a grudge for 10 years they offered forgiveness to someone and felt a huge wait lift off of them. Another person who forgave because she felt it was too toxic to hold onto the anger really worked on it. She totally forgave the person but may never quite trust the person again.  

The Templeton Foundation, that offers the Templeton prize and also is the foundation that funds the Scientists in the Synagogue grant that we are finishing up, has spent roughly $10M on the Science of Forgiveness. Coming out of that is a 55 page document written by Everett Worthington on the Science of Forgiveness. https://www.templeton.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/Forgiveness_final.pdf  

However, our congregants are on to something. We forgive because we need to do it more for ourselves than for the person or persons we are forgiving. Rabbi Harold Kusher has much to say about this.  

“The embarrassing secret is that many of us are reluctant to forgive.  We nurture grievances because that makes us feel morally superior.  Withholding forgiveness gives us a sense of power, often power over someone who otherwise leaves us feeling powerless.  The only power we have over them is the power to remain angry at them. There may be a certain emotional satisfaction in claiming the role of victim, but it is a bad idea for two reasons.  First, it estranges you from a person you could be close to.  (And if it becomes a habit, as it all too often does, it estranges you from many people you could be close to.)  And secondly, it accustoms you to seeing yourself in the role of victim—helpless, passive, preyed upon by others.  Is that shallow feeling of moral superiority worth learning to see yourself that way?” 

Kushner counseled a woman still angry with the husband who left her years ago.  He said, “I’m not asking you to forgive him because what he did wasn’t so terrible; it was terrible.  I’m suggesting that you forgive him because he doesn’t deserve to have this power to turn you into a bitter, resentful woman.  When he left, he gave up the right to inhabit your life and mind to the degree that you’re letting him.  Your being angry at him doesn’t harm him, but it hurts you.  It’s turning you into someone you don’t really want to be.  Release that anger, not for his sake—he probably doesn’t deserve it—but for your sake, so that the real you can reemerge.” 

This fits with what Worthington says in his work at the Templeton Foundation.  

The next question then becomes are there limits to forgiveness. Yes. “Our own tradition says that there are some limits to forgiveness. At the individual level there are also some sins that seem to be beyond forgiveness. In my thesis, “Citing Maimonides, Dorff lists several categories of sinners who permanently lose their place in the world to come, heretics and those who deny the authority of the Torah, those who cause a multitude to sin, who secede from the community, who commits sins in a high-handed fashion, informers against the Jewish community, those who terrorize a community other than for religious purposes, murderers and slanders and those who remove the mark of their circumcision .” 

At the end of the Torah, in the book of Deuteronomy we are told to “Remember never forget Amalek.” Why, the Amalekites attacked the rear guard when the Israelites were wandering in the wilderness on their way to Israel. The women, the children the old.  And our tradition teaches that Amalek’s line leads to Haman that may lead to Hitler. Is it possible to ever forgive Hitler. That’s hard. Perhaps impossible.  

In Simon Weisenthal’s book, The Sunflower, that I gave to every commander at the Elgin Police Department several years ago, the famous Nazi hunter was confronted with a choice, a moral dilemma. A wounded Nazi officer who had driven hundreds of Jewish families into a house and set it on fire wanted absolution.  

Rabbi David Markus points out that forgiveness is not absolution: “But “forgiveness” isn’t absolution. We can “forgive” even if someone doesn’t deserve it—because we ourselves deserve the peace that can come by releasing pain and grudges. That’s forgiveness. It doesn’t absolve wrongs or withhold justice, but helps us live resiliently amid brokenness. It’s among our most powerful spiritual tools—and sometimes difficult to use.”–David Markus  

Could Weisenthal actually forgive the soldier? Weisenthal decided no, Judaism teaches that only the victims can grant forgiveness. The rest of the book, the rest of his life, he wrestles with this decision. The back of the book is a symposium on this topic with many famous scholars and leaders weighing in on Weisenthal’s discussion. It seems to split down Jewish and Christian understandings of forgiveness.  

Forgiveness only exists in a culture in which repentance exists. Repentance presupposes that we are free and morally responsible agents who are capable of change, specifically the change that comes about when we recognise that something we have done is wrong and we are responsible for it and we must never do it again.” Says Sacks.  

The person that we forgive then needs to go through the process of t’shuvah–repentance. We talk a lot about this during the High Holy Day season. As part of the steps of t’shuvah you must admit or confess you did something wrong, promise to never do it again, make restitution and then when confronted with the same circumstances, not do it again. T’shuvah isn’t easy either. And then if someone offers you forgiveness and you are, shall we say stubborn and you don’t accept the offer of forgiveness…three times according to Maimonides, then it is on you.  

When I looked at forgiveness for the thesis, I came to the conclusion that in order to forgive you need to feel safe. Therefore, victims of domestic violence for instance should not forgive until they are safe. We should not be telling victims to go back to their perpetrators and make up for instance.  

The 13 attributes of the divine, teach that G-d is a forgiving G-d, forgiving iniquity, transgression and sin. That’s why we sing it on the High Holy Days. We are told to be like G-d, so therefore we too should be forgiving, for us, for the world, but only if we are safe when we are doing it. Jospeh when forgiving his brothers, showing us a higher moral compass, was already safe. May we become like G-d and like Jospeh.